grimeymtl-blog

[girldraki]

aroace girlies stay winning by the way

[silent-sanctum]

Objection! Yet Another "In Defense"

Okay! My alarm bells went off and it has come to my attention that yet another user has posted a "Jotaro is a misogynist" allegation post. Since Yoongi ain't raise a weak bitch, I am here to give my own counterarguments to the post in more comprehensive detail.

This will be my "Should pineapple be on pizza or die" / "Is mint chocolate actually good or is it the spawn of Satan" type of debate.

I am going to die on this hill that while he is in fact a man of many, many flaws, misogyny is not one of them no matter how convinced some people think he is. I will live up to my bio and that's the truth.

But before I begin, I'm going to put up a couple disclaimers because if I know the Internet, people love jumping the gun almost immediately when encountering someone who has a different opinion than theirs.

Disclaimer #1: Whatever I state (or even what OP has said), is all within the realm of HEADCANON because we aren't Araki. We did not make the canon universe, so all my yapping will be assumptions based on the material presented to the audience. Disclaimer #2: I am in no way shape or form fighting OP, alright? These are just my rebuttals against the arguments she has mentioned. She's entitled to her own opinion. I'm entitled to mine. 'Tis but a food for thought of mine. Spicy edition. Disclaimer #3: I don't want anyone commenting/reblogging this saying "lmao don't you have anything better to do than to argue with people online?" Because I just finished a whole day's worth of examinations, for which I studied a whole week, and got good scores from it. I can do whatever the hell I want during my resting period, anonymous user. Even if it's making this huge ass post defending my hyperfix. Thanks.

With that out of the way, let's get on with the meat of it all.

"You people can't recognize misogyny if it isn't in your face "Women should die" kind of bullshit."

Oh I'm aware. Bold of you to assume that we don't know how deep and how silent misogyny can run in today's society. More so in Asia and the Middle East.

And it's slightly insulting to assume that because I want to defend a fictional character and that he isn't misogynistic popularized via memes, you say that "Oh! You don't know misogyny at all! It's annoying!"

You say that because I know in the West, misogyny is the more "in your face" and obnoxious type. But as an Asian woman, I very much know the levels of audacity men can harbor against women that aren't just limited to, as you quote, "Women should die" behavior.

Misogyny is similar to a spectrum. It can be as obvious and proud as the Andrew Tate's, the "Alpha" men, and the basement-dwelling incels. It can also be as quiet and condescending as a regular guy in your day-to-day. They won't preach toxic masculinity, but would instead infantilize, belittle, differentiate, or alienate women and see them as someone inferior to the male sex.

I can sense red flags. I'm hypervigilant about how men behave around women and whether they see them in a different, negative light. So I know what the hell this word means.

And I'm not saying OP is one (I genuinely don't), but women can be misogynists too. Ironic, I know but they exist. Some women are drawn to misogynistic men as well. Booktok is an example of that.

Phew. With that introduction out of the way, let me first make my little assumption on why this whole debacle started before I start breaking down each argument.

When you look at it from a bigger picture, he doesn't get to interact with many women in this series with an abundance of male characters. So it's easy to jump to conclusions about their stance on it when you decide to base a whole character on the beginning episodes.

I think the reason why some people are convinced that Jotaro is an "anti-woman" is because he yells at women... for the first few episodes. Let me see what else. *Flips note* Oh, that's primarily the reason. Okay.

What bad things had he done? Called Holly a bitch and yelled screaming girls to shut up. That's it. Any other things I left out was intentional because I will be discussing that separately.

I won't expand on the whole "but Part 3 happened because he loves his mother" shtick because it's in the first argument. But when you come to think of it, he doesn't really say "bitch" as much as people expected him to outside of Holly. He doesn't even say it unwarranted or like he wants to.

Onto the screaming flock of school girls. Before he tells them to shut up, here's what happened. They congregate, start calling for his attention, and one of them grabs his arm.

What does he do? Does he yank his arm off in disgust? Does he shove her even slightly? Does he tell her to "back off bitch" or "get the hell away from him?" No.

He simply looks at her and does nothing. Ignoring her so to speak. Because he doesn't like the attention of being seen as a piece of meat for them to ogle at. He only tells them to shut up when they start becoming obnoxiously loud.

"But he was very rude and pushed those two women on the plane!"

Ma'am/sir, they're on a plane about to crash unceremoniously into the ocean, and the flight attendants decide to prioritize fawning a minor over their own lives. In the process, they block his path to the cockpit. Who wouldn't get frustrated in a situation like that?

Onto the arguments:

I agree that there are misogynistic men who can still love their female family members but still be an "anti-woman" towards others. But I can cite examples on how he interacts with women who aren't family in contrast to how a misogynist would.

Case A: The School Nurse

And we have one of our first earlier examples from Episode 2. When we first meet her, he's sitting in the infirmary and she's there almost giving him a light lecture about getting into trouble. He wants his knee patched up and she's about to do that because that's her profession.

How does he behave around her? Does he show body language signs indicating he's undermining her skills as a nurse? Does he call her a nagging bitch for lecturing him? Does he dismiss her words?

No. He evades her hands from reaching his hat, and when she's about to snip his expensive pants he reasonably asks "what are you doing?" She explains her intention and he sighs, simply saying that he'll take them off himself.

Does he show resistance? No. He does what is told so his knee can be treated.

AND after Kakyoin reveals himself, he gets pissed at him for using the nurse as a puppet, saying his whole speech and ending it with "Especially if it's an innocent woman!"

I've seen some use this sentence as him being misogynistic because they perceive it as a sign of belittlement when in actuality, it's not.

You have to know that he lives in 80s Japan- Patriarchal Japan where women are most likely going to be treated less than men in general even up to today's day and age. (I doubt you've heard but there's currently active crimes against women in Korea. If shit can happen there today, it can happen in Japan too). Let's face it and I hate to say it but it's the truth: Women are part of the minority. That's a reason why gender equality rights are being fought for, and why feminists exist to begin with, as well as the creation of the MeToo movement.

Jotaro knows women are more prone to be taken advantage of in this country, more so during this period. And he hates that. He despises that. Hence why he responded with such words to Kakyoin with that much vitriol.

He acknowledges he's not a perfect guy, that he's a punk true and through, but he has enough dignity and moral values to see that when one portrays women as lesser than men and uses them for personal gain, it's vile and evil.

Case B: Anne

Miss little stowaway! Let's see his behavior around her. OP has mentioned her at the ending, being on the fence and all, so I'm here to shed some light.

Back in the boat when she's still posing as a boy, how does Jotaro see the situation: It's a child in the middle of trouble. He looks at it not through the lens of "I applaud this boy for fending himself", but more so through "People are already intervening so I'm gonna sit this one out."

She goes overboard and he jumps in to save her. And then he finds out Anne's a girl. Does he think differently of her? No. She's still a child who needs saving.

He becomes her passive big brother figure. He wants to assist her off the small boat, but she declines and sticks a tongue out, and he sighs. Saw someone's head get mutilated? He shields her eyes. Anne is getting inappropriate attention from an ape? He intervenes and sees the orangutan as a disgusting animal, both in a literal and figurative sense. Falling off a cliff? He safeguards her. Caught in a dead end? He helps her with a quick "good grief".

Case C. Tomoko

Another example! But let's switch it up a bit to Part 4 this time. A testament on how his personality was really just him being a teenager going through an identity phase, replacing that punk persona for professional stoicism.

When he visits her house to look for Josuke, he meets her. She sees him, thought he's Joseph, and immediately goes in for a hug, motorboating his chest with a string of "Love you's" spilling out in that pitchy voice.

Does he call her a bitch? Does he pull her away because she violated his boundaries? Does he make some belittling comment about her behavior in his mind?

No. Jotaro stands put, gets put off because she's all up on him rubbing her face on his chest, tells her frankly to look over him again and says he's not Joseph.

And then he asks if Josuke's at home. Tomoko's zoning out. And what does he do? He doesn't groan. He doesn't roll his eye at her blanking out. Instead, he notices she isn't responding so he repeats his question to her face with the same polite tone so he can snap her out of her thoughts.

And when he leaves, he says one more thing to her. It's easy for anyone to say something along the lines of "Toughen up, it'll get better" / "It'll pass" / "Hang in there". But what does he say instead? He offers condolences and mentions that if Joseph was less senile, he'd support Tomoko, knowing that she's been wanting to meet the old man again.

Yes. That's because he is mean to everyone. Equally. Hell, I think he calls men "bastards" more often than he calls women "bitches". In which part of the show did he show any sort of condescending remark that women were weaker? How often does he spout out "bitch" in the entirety of the show?

He protects them because, for one, his enemies have supernatural abilities that ordinary civilians can't see. Which one will make him more of an ass? Protecting them or turning a blind eye?

It's like saying that a man shouldn't help a woman struggling with her heavy luggage up the staircase because "Hey aren't we all equal? They should struggle as much as we do!" Which is such an asinine concept to adhere to.

It's not seeing them as weak. It's called having basic human courtesy. He's going to help because they're people who need help, not because they're women in need of saving.

How is that any different from him wanting to protect Koichi? From him wanting to protect Josuke?

"She's no mere woman. Jotaro stumbles upon a woman stronger than him and he couldn't comprehend it."

OR.

He knows something's wrong with the nurse so he makes that comment. "She's no mere woman" as in "She's behaving erratically than what a normal person should be behaving." Man or woman. She has a welcoming personality so of course he'd be thrown off guard when suddenly she's stabbing students in the eye and cheeks with unnatural strength.

And the way you worded this was as if you're saying Jotaro is allergic to strong women. When it wasn't the case at all. In part 3, he fights against strong women Stand users (Enyaba and Midler) just like he does with the male enemies. In part 6, he teams up with strong women Stand users (Jolyne and Hermes).

He even outright states and believes that Jolyne can make it through the chaos because he knows she's strong and capable. He's proud of her strength and abilities.

Again, in which part does he not comprehend that women can be strong? That it's so mind-boggling to the extent you had to include "fucking" to emphasize your point?

In fact, I think he'd respect and appreciate a woman who knows her self-worth and power. Sees a successful female colleague? *applauds in stoic.*

Again, I agree that age does not excuse anyone to be misogynistic. It can happen at any age. Because it's a mindset. It's rooted deep in the psyche. But I've already made my case about teenage Jotaro so I'm not gonna reiterate.

With the whole Kira deduction thing in Part 4.

Let me restate this- The time this part was set in is the late 90s. Setting? Japan. A patriarchal country where gender roles were more rigid and inflexible. During that time, I hate to break it to you, but the country was not that expressive nor progressive as compared to the West. It was common for women to be housewives doing the chores and tending to the kids, while men did the heavy labor out of the household.

So you cannot blame Jotaro for making that logical deduction. He was born in Japan, knew by then how his country works at 28 years old, and thus is able to make a deduction based on the patterns of how society was structured during that period.

Sure you could say some women worked too, but the majority of them would be the typical housewife. In 80s-90s Japan I say again.

"Traditional Japanese"

This, fellow readers, is what you call a "Preference". It can be harmless and not necessarily condescending. But even then, with the inclusion of the parenthesis, you could say that this was a choice based on the mindset of a teenager's train of thought.

Jotaro likes his quiet time -> learns from the world that apparently traditional Japanese women are usually the "quiet types" -> resulting in the aforementioned preference.

And just like any other preference, it can change with time as you grow older and wiser. As you can see, he dates and marries a foreign woman who's not "traditionally Japanese" and even had a kid with her.

It doesn't necessarily mean he wants a housewife who can cook and clean for him. At the age of 17, that's the least of his concerns. All he wants is for his partner to know when it's appropriate to be quiet and when it's appropriate to be excited. He prioritizes his peace. As simple as that.

I can see why people like to see him as part of the autism spectrum and I respect that.

And yes, I acknowledge that he's a huge asshole. No denying that. That's just how he is at that age.

And again, we don't see him say "bitch" that much anyways for it to be a verbal stim of sorts. I recall he says it twice or thrice. And that's it.

Personally, I'm not that sold into the headcanon (and this is coming from someone who probably has ADHD and has a sibling diagnosed with autism). Introverts can be callous. Some can look apathetic. Not every one of us will be shy and timid.

"He could've shoved her off."

And you know why he doesn't? Because as much as he tends to bark and yap about how annoying and doting his mother is, he loves Holly. He likes her hugs. He lets her give him goodbye kisses to the point it has become a pattern in his life. He likes her cooking. He's going to travel the whole world for his sick mother to get better.

And Holly knows that. A mother knows her child more than anyone else. She's unfazed by his words because she knows the good son she raised underneath that tough abrasive persona. Heck, even Suzy Q knows that too.

Also a cute little assumption. After they fight Midler and after Suzy talks to Jotaro, you can see his hand lingers on the phone. It's as if he's contemplating. I'd like to think that's a moment where he wanted to call Holly, to check up on his mother.

I agree that being gay doesn't excuse someone from being misogynistic. Like I said, it can happen to anyone of any gender or age.

Gay people can be misogynists. Point blank period.

Personally, he's a demisexual king in my eyes. But others are free to give him any orientation they see fit. Gay, trans, bisexual, aroace- You name it. The fictional world is your oyster! Go ham!

I believe that a fictional character's sexuality is a headcanon in on itself unless explicitly stated by the creator. Telling someone that character is straight? Headcanon. That character is gay? Headcanon. Claims a character to be non-binary? Headcanon.

"He's just a baby boy uwu uwu"

Okay OP with the "we're infantilizing him" allegations! That's new!

(That... was passive-aggressive of me. Apologies. I'm aware we call him "baby girl" often but with the way those two words were put into that sentence combined with the emojis gave off a different connotation.)

I don't know why but whenever we say that Jotaro isn't *insert one negative trait*, y'all are quick to say that we are proclaiming that:

"Oh my god~ He's not like that~ He's Saint Peter coming from the heavens pure as light."

Like what? No seriously... what??? I have never seen anyone treat him like he's the perfect human being.

Hell, I can even say that he's NEGLECTFUL. Yes! He's a neglectful father no matter how good his intentions were. He was an absent parent who technically neglected his child. There! I said it!

We KNOW he's an asshole. We KNOW he has a multitude of flaws that are not admirable. He's reclusive as fuck. He's brash and abrasive. He's seemingly distant when he talks to people. Socially awkward outside of work. He's impulsive when he wants to be.

I love character flaws. That's what makes a character so fascinating.

So please, if you have any strong opinions, keep them to yourself. Not everything has to be shared online. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

I can see a shit ton of flaws in this reserved, stoic mountain of a man. But I draw the line when it comes to some traits that seem not entirely fitting of his character.

The ending paragraph...

Me, an Asian woman constantly facing the audacity of men my age objectifying women and promoting toxic masculinity on a daily basis:

[bloodiedrogue]

SWEETER THAN DEATH

SUMMARY: The absorption of a curse has always been disgusting and lonely. Well, at least until Gojo showed up.

PAIRING: Geto Suguru & Gojo Satoru

WORD COUNT: 2,244

WARNINGS: Brief descriptions of vomiting, angst, Geto POV, my own silly headcanons about Geto's connection to curses. :)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, I saw this headcanon and my JJK brain rot grew three sizes in the span of a minute, so I made this. Also, knowing me I'm probably going to get consumed by these two so if you want to be tagged in future JJK stuff just let me know!

MASTERLIST

-

The flavour is revolting. A combination of putrid acidity and rotten flesh —it’s the kind of taste that would churn even the strongest of stomachs, resulting in Geto himself struggling to suppress it. 

As he stands alongside Gojo, imagining the process of its inevitable digestion, he still can’t manage to do it in front of people. Fearing that they might judge his lack of composure each time he has to force the cursed sphere down, he merely pockets it instead. Muttering something along the lines of I’ll save it for when I’m hungry at the same time Gojo stretches his spine, acting none the wiser.

“What do they taste like anyway?” 

They taste like death, he wants to say, like a decomposed corpse that’s expelled its insides or a pile of vomit left out in the sun. Instead, though, he just shrugs and tells him they’re flavourless. An empty vessel that fills him up but fails to provide the enjoyment of actually eating a proper meal. 

An answer that Gojo thankfully accepts with a nod before moving on—both of them walking down the street as he starts yammering on about whatever topic of interest he’s deemed exciting enough to share. Forever failing to catch on to the fact that all Geto wants is some peace and quiet as they make their way back to campus. 

This time it’s movies. Specifically Western ones. None of which Geto has seen or has any interest in, considering all he can think about is the curse that rests against his palm. Specifically how it causes his skin to itch with need despite wanting nothing more than to toss it as far as he can so that he doesn’t have to experience it slipping down his throat. 

He’s still not entirely sure why it happens but after a curse has been exorcized it’s as if this connection forms inside his brain. One that requires him to swallow the damned thing as quickly as possible, assuming there’s some sort of time limit. As if he doesn't, something bad might happen. So much so that, even now, even though it’s only been a few minutes since he initially got rid of it, he can feel it calling out to him in the back of his mind. Begging for him to eat —screaming at him to absorb its contents until suddenly they find themselves in the heart of Kyoto. 

At which point Geto can hardly contain the temptation. Palming the sphere with tightened fingers, it’s as if he can feel the curse inside pressing against the outer walls. Its voice echoing overtop of whatever Gojo’s saying now. Forcing him to close his eyes and breathe as he digs his nails into his own flesh, forcing his hands to his sides rather than inside the pockets of his pants.

“It looks so good! We should definitely see it when it comes out!” Gojo practically yells —most likely still talking about movies, prompting Geto to press his lips into a false smile and nod. 

Something he does quite often these days thanks to the amount of missions they’ve been going on. 

“Do you have a favourite?”

In response, he blinks, trying to force himself to return to the conversation. To seem like he’s present and calm rather than bursting at the seams with fear. “Hm?”

“Movie, Suguru!” Gojo chastises, rolling his eyes at Geto’s lack of attention as he shoves his arm. “Weren’t you listening?”

“Course.” 

“Liar!”

This time Geto rolls his eyes. Unable to come up with a clever rebuttal thanks to the curse’s desire to be consumed as quickly as possible. 

“I swear, you’re always elsewhere.”

“What do you mean?” 

“That head of yours.” Before he can process what Gojo is doing he feels his index finger pressed against his forehead, pushing him backwards roughly. Forcing Geto to grunt at the impact before swatting away his hand. “It’s got you distracted.” 

“I’m not distracted.” 

“Then what’s my new favourite movie?” 

Again, Geto fails to come up with a response, resulting in the humiliated feeling of Gojo Satoru being right. A feeling so utterly embarrassing that for a moment he forgets that he should be excusing himself to feed. To give in to the pressure of the curse’s voice penetrating every corner of his mind. To force the rotting flavour down his throat so that he can once again feel nothing.

It takes a while, but eventually, when there’s a pause in Gojo’s one-sided conversation, he lies and says he has to go to the bathroom. Another excuse his friend accepts without question, pulling out his phone while Geto walks a block back before dipping into the nearest alleyway. Completely unaware of the shaking hands that pull the curse out of Geto’s pants pocket. 

EAT ME. EAAAT ME.

By the time he’s out of sight, the voice is borderline hysteric as it sits in his hand. Causing him to narrow his eyes in annoyance, almost immediately he raises the sphere to his mouth while clearing his throat, preparing the space with reluctant thoughts. Wishing just once he can find it in himself to consume without struggle. To taste without the urge to vomit. To feel, just this once, like his ability is more than just a fucking curse. 

Swallowing hard, he does his best to imagine something else in his mouth. Dorayaki, cheesecake —hell even those awful black sesame cookies his mom used to make when he was a kid. Anything to distract himself from the truth as he slips the curse between his lips, immediately gagging when the acrid taste first hits his tongue.

He isn’t sure why but every time feels worse than the last. As if the continual ingestion of these creatures is somehow rotting him from the inside out. Consuming his quality of life each time he’s forced to absorb it.

Which is ultimately an assumption he thinks about often. Considering that’s all he’s become lately, the idea that he’s been deemed as nothing more than some glorified maid being sent out to clean up messes really pisses him off. Especially because he knows that despite being an equal level to Gojo, the only reason he’s allowed to tag along is because everyone knows he’s a liability. A potential threat they might need to subdue in the future. 

Deep down, he knows he’s one wrong thought away from being subdued. After exorcising and absorbing over and over and over again, he can feel the madness slipping through. All the questions of whether or not it’s worth it to continue running rampant through his thoughts as he inevitably spits the curse out, heavily breathing through the rancid taste of failure yet again.

Under his breath, he swears and roughly grips the curse feeling his limbs begin to twitch —the angered voice returning before he can even think to suppress it. 

EATMEEATMEEATMEEATME!

And all he wants is to listen. To grant the voice it's wish so that he may get his. But at the back of his mind, all he can think about is death. How it lingers against his taste buds, filling every crevice of his mouth with the kind of flavour he’d hardly wish upon his worst enemy. How it causes his thoughts to shift to a world where curses no longer exist. A world where he can finally live and breathe and—

“Suguru?” 

He’s on his knees panting through the pain. Still gripping onto the sphere, instead of raised into the air it’s wedged between the concrete and his palm. Becoming more and more pressurized the longer Geto stares at Gojo’s frame, realizing he’s been had. That the illusion of his strength has been reduced to weakness in a matter of seconds. 

A fact that makes him wish the taste inside his mouth was real. That instead of death on his tongue there was instead death in his heart. In his stomach and his lungs —spreading throughout his system in a path that would eventually lead to nothing but darkness. 

Kneeling on the ground, he wishes he were dead instead of staring into the bluest eyes he’s ever seen, watching them narrow with worry. Seeing them twist and turn into shapes filled with panic and confusion and pity until they’re sitting directly in front of him. 

“What’s wrong?” 

For a while, he doesn’t respond. Instead, he only lowers his head and closes his eyes, allowing the breath of his lungs to filter through his tainted throat. Desperately attempting to coat it in a layer of something other than the leftover flavour of the curse until he’s able to look at Gojo, muttering out a pained bad. 

“Bad?”

He nods his head, watching Gojo glance around the alley. Paying no mind to the curse in his hand until eventually it clicks and all he can do is stare. Focusing on the way Geto’s fingers angrily grip the sphere. Most likely wondering why he’s spent all his time lying about something so trivial as taste. 

“I thought you said they don’t taste like anything.” 

Despite everything, all Geto does is laugh darkly, shaking his head. Trying to act as calmly as possible even though the curse's voice is fully ripping its way through his mind now. 

“Guess I really am a liar.”

“Do they always taste bad?” Gojo asks, reverting the subject to its original topic. Prompting Geto to wonder why he cares to question an answer that’s so obviously right in front of him in the first place. 

Because sure, Gojo’s always been a bit ignorant of these kinds of things, deeming himself too important not to be given exactly what he wants regardless of how easy it is. But he’s never acted like that with him. At least, not in such a personal way. Not in a way that could result in some sort of crossed boundary. 

So, it throws him off. As he looks back up, watching Gojo’s hand tentatively rise to cup his cheek. How his thumb shifts to stroke the highest point of his bone structure before brushing away the loose hairs that have fallen in front of his face. How somehow the tenderness of his touch feels like the most painful thing he’s ever experienced, unaware of whether his actions are the result of pity or not. 

Which is why he brushes him off. Throwing his arm in the way of his friend’s lingering hand, he can’t help but groan at the sudden lack of contact as he falls back. His back crashing against the brick wall behind him as he glares into Gojo’s eyes.

As it happens, Gojo jumps at the sudden movement but doesn’t do anything to stop it. Instead, merely allowing Geto to stir in his anger as he hugs the curse against his chest, trying not to cry. 

Because despite the strength he manages to exude each time he stands alongside Gojo, deep down he always feels this weak. As he blinks back tears, hearing the repetitive chant of the curse in his hands —feeling the madness it inflicts as Gojo inches a bit closer, telling him that he’s okay in such a contradictive way— all he can do is sit. And stare. Attempting to calm himself down as Gojo shoves a hand into his pocket, eventually producing a closed fist. 

“Here.” 

Almost immediately, Geto looks at him with confusion. The kind of look that results in Gojo scoffing in annoyance and opening his palm to reveal a piece of candy.

“Listen, I don’t know if it’ll help but—“

“I’m fine.” 

“Sure, okay… but maybe it’ll make it easier.” 

He wants to tell him that it won’t. That no matter how hard he tries to get rid of the taste that remains long after he’s consumed a curse, it’s always there. Sitting in the farthest corners of his body, waiting for their chance to become present once again. Waiting to make him feel disgusting and weak and—

“Stop being so prideful and take the damn candy, Suguru.”

Before he can deny him again Gojo grabs one of his hands and places it in the centre. Keeping it locked lightly around Geto’s wrist as the two of them continue to stare, wondering what the other’s thinking. Both of them trying to find the best way to go about this vulnerable moment they’ve just shared until Gojo lets him go.

At which point Geto feels that tinge of pain again. The one where he isn’t sure why his friend is doing this. Why, instead of chastising him for a weakness he’s repeatedly lied about, he’s offering support. Why he’s sitting there, allowing him to sift in the screams of this spherical curse for as long as he needs. 

“It gets worse every time,” he eventually tells him. Unable to hold back the way his voice breaks through each syllable. A sound that further paints just how weak he is at this moment as Gojo sighs. 

“What does it taste like?”

“Death.”

“Death?”

He nods just as Gojo starts to look around, eventually producing a small grin that leaves Geto confused all over again, watching him reach out to touch his head again. 

“Guess we’ll need to get you something sweeter then,” his friend suggests, and despite knowing that still probably won’t help, Geto merely nods again, feeling Gojo’s fingers ruffle roughly through his hair before he’s suddenly standing up and offering a hand Geto isn’t quite sure he deserves to hold. 

[shotorozu]

encountering a ‘pick me’ girl

character(s) : kirishima eijirou, todoroki shouto, bakugou katsuki (bnha)

warning : PICK ME GIRL, misogyny (?) pick me girl makes an off handed comment about your body but it’s not detailed at all

PART TWO — PART THREE

legend : [Y/N = your name] afab! reader, but they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned

headcanon type : fluff, angst if you squint

note(s) : i made 2 versions of this post so,, if you’re reading this— then i probably decided that i liked this one more than the other one i made,, anyways, i used real life examples 💀

»»————-　♡　————-««

kirishima eijirou

i’d imagine that eijirou would have an idea of what a pick me girl is— i mean, there were probably 2 of those girls in middle school

but has he experienced it first hand? nahh.

though, eijirou didn’t think he’d encounter one when he was already in a healthy and committed relationship!

eijirou is practically friends with everyone— and yeah, even the most unexpected. so, he’s bound to accidentally befriend a pick me girl

him, being the nicest one out of all of the characters in this list, will still be nice to said pick me girl, despite wanting to snob them to the core

because really— you can’t really fight fire with fire in some cases

but, he can be everything but lenient when the pick me girl starts insulting you for doing certain things, and for absurd reasons too

like,, how you laugh, and how you take care of yourself (for example— if you wear makeup, or how you style your hair)

which is odd! everything about you is everything but the things the pick me girl has stated so.. he cannot stand by.

SCENARIO

the girl giggles to herself after that snide comment leaves her lip gloss coated lips. eijirou shifts uncomfortably— honestly taken aback by the anything but subtle insult that was thrown at you

“like.. seriously! it’s honestly quite superficial if you look at it like that. who the hell would put that much effort infront of your boyfriend? i’d assume they’d see everything AND everything but.. i guess not.”

you blink. superficial? now that’s a new one. the girl infront of you has been babbling insults sugarcoated in boasts the entire time, and you’re just wondering if it’s about time you guys leave but—

“well that’s unfair,” your boyfriend laughs, “i put the same amount of effort as this cutie right here,” eijirou pokes at your cheek, earning a quick laugh from you— which he can only thank the heavens for that

“but that’s different. it actually looks put together when you’re doing it, eiji.” the certain glint in her smile makes you want to wipe it right off with a dirty mop, “it’s impossible to look put together with expensive clothes, but being built like a—”

the sound of the sliding of a chair is quicker than your actions, and it easily cuts her off.

“i’m sorry, but we gotta go, it’s totally not cool of you to say those things about Y/N!”

“what? but i mean.. it’s true, right? i’m looking out for them! they’re literally out here l—”

“bye!” eijirou waves her goodbye with your hand, dismissing the sour expression on her face— as he dashes off with you

you’d question how he’s just so nice to people like that, but when he turns around, you could see the distaste in his eyes

“so that’s what a pick me girl’s like,” shaking his head, his expression lights up with such a quick manner “i’ll never make friends that are like that again!”

safe to say, eijirou’s friend list has been a a person shorter ever since that incident

bakugou katsuki

oh, so that girl’s bold bold.

if she thinks she could get away with being a not so subtle pick me girl infront of bakugou katsuki, then she couldn’t be more wrong.

it’s absolutely revolting— i mean, he hasn’t displayed any romantic feelings towards ANYONE that isn’t you.

also, they’re quite gutsy if you ask me. so congrats for having guts??

i don’t think he’d be friends with a pick me girl. he’s very selective of who he’s befriending, so it’s probably your friend that’s the pick me girl in this case

he wouldn’t know what a pick me girl would be, but he’d probably know the description of one.

over some time, he’d grow some resistance to insults directed at him, but when someone insults his s/o

oh boy. that’s not good. remember when i said that katsuki was almost like your scary and intimidating dog

this is what i mean

knows he can’t make a scene, so his first option is to be dismissive asf— but if said pick me girl literally can’t get it, he won’t be afraid of shoving some explosions into her face

because his hands are rated e for everyone

SCENARIO

“so you wanna be picked or something, is that it?” he hates how you literally have the resistance of a rock— which is something he always liked, but in this case hated. if it weren’t for you— he would’ve blasted explosions into her sorry excuse of a face until it’s beyond recognition (that wouldn’t be hero like, is what you’ve said in the past, but he disagrees.)

but seriously? ugh. he just wants to leave this horrid place, and make some dinner with you in the comfort of his home. why are you even friends with her anyway? she’s not even trying to be slick at this point.

“p-picked? i’m not understanding, katsu.”

“it’s bakugou.”

“right,” her laughter is like nails on chalkboard, “i’m just watching out for Y/N, y’know? there’s no point in wearing all of that.. on their face.” and she’s obviously referring to your obviously very well done makeup

“it’ll make your skin terrible in the long run! and really— i couldn’t really understand on why someone would wear that much, when you could survive with i dunno.. lip gloss at most?”

you would’ve actually said something as a rebuttal, but your boyfriend is quicker, and a lot more direct than anyone else in the area.

“just say you can’t do makeup and fucking scram,” katsuki’s ice cold glare finally breaks out of the act he’s been trying to hold together for you

“their makeup is fucking bomb as hell, compared to your ridiculous spider lashes, lady. come back when you’ve watched james charles’ entire fucking channel.” he harshly states in similar bakugou fashion, despite the lack of screaming.

and if you squinted hard enough, you could see tears welling up in her eyes. but katsuki tugs your hand before anything else could be said

“let’s fucking go, you need better friends.”

he makes you cut ties with all of them, and he practically scolds your terrible choice of friends— but he goes quiet when you tell him that you’ve been friends with her since middle school

“good fucking riddance. next time, i’ll punch them as soon as they say something outta line, got that?” and next time (hopefully, there won’t be a next time) you’ll actually lash out— or maybe,, you’ll let him loose for once.

todoroki shouto

now shouto might be,, socially unaware sometimes. but he can tell whenever someone’s trying to insult his s/o

like,, right away.

now— you both run into this person after a pleasant date, and she eagerly presented herself as your friend

so, her attitude catches him off guard because who’d have anything rude to say about you and towards shouto’s face? especially when it’s about something normal.

like,, wasn’t she your friend?? why is she even like this?

his hostility is very well known, so they should be scared.

he gets detached from the conversation, and he’ll immediately go cold— and shouto would probably go as far as walking away with your hand in his

doesn’t matter if he properly says goodbye or not— if a girl’s being rude to his s/o, they obviously don’t deserve his usually polite attitude. nope, that’s a luxury.

oh— and what more when they’re seeking for his validation. newsflash! said pick me girl won’t be get any from him.

SCENARIO

shouto couldn’t stop the bitterness bleeding into his mouth, when the girl in front of him continued to babble and take up the valuable time he had left with his s/o

initially, she presented herself as your friend from middle school— but as of now? she seems to be more interested in him more than you, despite knowing you first.

she’d ask him a string of obvious questions with very obvious answers, like ‘is she treating you well?’ ‘is she acting correctly?’ and questions of the sort

“oh, sorry! i’d hate to cut this conversation short, but—” you finally decide that it was about time to leave, while shouto looks pretty,, deadpanned right now, you could tell that he was gradually starting to get irritated by your friend’s words.

“wait. thats.. kind of controlling, don’t you think? do you ever let shou make decisions?”

“uh.. controlling? since when??” you question at the accusation. this girl knows nothing about your relationship dynamic, and she’s already jumping the gun and making conclusions.

your gaze snaps back to shouto, who looks just as surprised as he could possibly be.

“yeah! it clearly looks like he still wants to talk” which is an obvious lie, shouto just wants it out of here “i wonder how you managed to snag such a guy like him,” she comments with a smile that looked anything above suspicion (yet, it makes your stomach churn)

you could see the way her hand gets gradually closer to him— and frankly, you’re not sure about what she was planning to do next, “you wouldn’t need to dress all expensive and fancy, if you’re with a girl with an already classy appear—”

“i think this conversation is over,” shouto grip is firm on the wrist that was attempting to grab his shoulder, shouto makes no attempt to even look at the girl infront of him “i don’t know what you’re trying to do, but it’s not humorous. at all.”

“what?” she stammers, drawing her hand back “i-it’s obvious they don’t know how to take a joke! this is why there are barely any good w—”

shouto’s next actions knocks her speechless, his hand rests at the small of your back, before gently guiding you forward— “love, what movie are we watching later?” he says, making an effort to press a quick, yet intense kiss on your lips

“oh,” you breathe out, surprised by this action. “don’t be so tense, love.” shouto comments on how tense your shoulders have looked, ever since she started running her mouth, “now.. what movie do you want to watch tonight? comedy? thriller?”

“you pick,” you laugh at the quick shift of topic. and when you look behind you, you could see shame and defeat welling up on her face. shouto finally feels like he could smile again, the bitterness dissipating from his mouth

after shouto questions you if that was what a pick me girl was, he makes sure that you guys won’t ever encounter such thing again

“you.. don’t have more friends like that, right? if you do— we could always do another friend list cleansing.” this statement makes you laugh but shouto is anything but joking

but being reminded of his reaction to that ‘pick me’ girl does puts a smile on your face.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[magratmakethetea]

Sometimes I read discourse™ about modern historical and fantasy fiction, about "tokenism" and "virtue-signalling" and representation being an anachronistic fad, something "trendy right now." I see people claim, for example, that disabled characters simply would not have survived a thousand or two thousand years ago. I see them assume that the historical past was made up of culturally and racially homogeneous groups until some unspecified time in the early modern period. And not only in online discourse but even within academia (where they should really know better) I see people implicitly denying agency to marginalised and oppressed groups, as if the only agents actively/self-awarely engaging in their culture and history were wealthy men and a few exceptional women. In a bid to avoid anachronism, some people will actually be more misogynistic (etc) than the ancient I've read sources.

And this isn't going to be a coherent rebuttal, let alone an exhaustive one — it's a bad sign, isn't it, that I can't even be bothered to track down example of the things I've seen over the years on Reddit/YouTube/Tumblr that inspired this?

I'm not going to touch — or not today — on all the complicated and heterogeneous historical evidence about the lives and statuses of disabled people, or women, or slaves, or immigrants, or any other marginalised people. I only know a little after all. Neither am I going to rant about the inherent assumptions involved about what kind of lives make stories worth telling. (Though I would like to note in passing that things not only varied over time and between cultures, but within cultures. There is no one historically accurate story of how individuals of X group lived in time Y and place Z: when you get your metaphorical magnifying glass out and look at the evidence things become very granular.)

But when I read these kinds of claims, I think of one of my favourite authors: Rosemary Sutcliff. Sutcliff (1920-1992) was a prolific author of (mostly) children's historical fiction, who published around 50 books from 1950 onwards (some posthumously). You may not have heard of her: when I worked in a bookshop last year we stocked only one of her books (the Eagle of the Ninth, you may know the 2011 Channing Tatum movie based on it) and my local library has five. When I was a kid about ten years ago they had maybe twenty, but books get damaged and most of her works are I think no longer in print. She was successful in her lifetime — she won the Carnegie medal six times — but suffice to say she's neither modern nor trendy.

But one of the striking features of her writing, for me, is how deliberately yet casually she imbeds disability in her historical world. I think something more than half her books have at least one disabled character whose place in their society is both well developed and matter of factly presented, and several are our main characters through whose perspective we see the world: their existence is normal, and though they often face discrimination she never lets the reader doubt that her characters are capable.

She shied away, I think, from what we would call "inspiration porn" today: the presence of disabled people is unremarkable and there's no inherent tragedy to disability, but they aren't inspiring rays of sunshine and they can't just overcome their difficulties with a good attitude. They are faced with discrimination and assumptions about their capabilities/prospects, and they need to find accomodations, but they are absolutely capable of succeeding — though they sometimes have to redefine success outside of their communities' assumptions. And though the characters' disabilities obviously shape their lives and stories they never are the story. They're real rounded characters with agency engaging with their world on their own terms. I think that's important.

It always felt realistic to me as a kid, though I would note that I'm not physically disabled. She was, though, after severe rheumatoid arthritis as a toddler. This no doubt influenced how she wrote and what she wrote about, but I want to highlight that she was hugely successful and widely published: these stories were not something her world wasn't ready for or open to. An appetite for books with physically diverse characters isn't new at all (which, incidentally, makes perfect sense! Disability isn't a modern thing, and though I don't have any stats to hand I'd guess that acquired disabilities would become more and more common the further we get from modern medicine.

After the cut, assuming it works, is a more detailed and specific discussion of Warrior Scarlet, one of my favourite books as a kid (and one which I recently reread the first half of during the slow bits of my little brother's school concert)

In her bronze age novel Warrior Scarlet (1958), which I think might be her novel most "about disability," she does this really striking thing when introducing our main character Drem, who [SPOILERS, I guess? I'm not sure spoilers apply to a book published 64 years ago] was born with a withered right arm. The story is told in a pretty narrow third person limited voice from Drem's POV, and it takes a couple of pages for us to learn about his arm at all. Which makes sense: it's Drem's body, he's entirely used to it. Even when we are told, it's almost a throwaway line of description, it doesn't seem important. I think it might not be till ten or more pages in that the reader actually realises that this is disabling, when Drem (eavesdropping from a spot he's climbed to on the roof), hears his grandfather tell his mother Drem will never be a warrior, since he can't carry a shield, and will in fact get kicked out of the tribe to live with the "half people," a group of (basically) serfs who herd sheep for their tribe.

His mother argues otherwise, pointing out Talore (another one handed warrior in the tribe) with whose help Drem (eventually) proves her right, but the damage is done and his self-image forever changed. It's a huge and traumatising shock, and I think it's really interestingly done — reminiscent of arguments about whether neurodivergent people are disabled by societies lack of accomodations, for example. From a reader's perspective the disability is almost created by the introduction of Grandfather's outside perspective. Grandfather isn't even entirely wrong — Drem can't ever fight in his tribe's standard way with a spear in his right hand and shield in the left, and his happy ending doesn't involve a "cure" — but he's unimaginative: with Talore's encouragement Drem learns to "throw a spear so well that they forget it isn't by choice" and if I remember right he and a friend come up with a kind of shield-harness he can strap to his right arm.

Even then, hard work and a good attitude isn't enough — but I won't retell the whole story. Drem is also no ray of sunshine, inspiring and motivating the able-bodied people around him: if I'm honest Drem is kind of an arrogant, territorial little prick with a "lordly manner" and a violently competitive streak. As a preteen he'd happily pick a fight with a grown man or a whole room of other boys, and much of his character development involves slowly learning not to treat other people like dirt. He does learn, in the end, but it really takes a lot.

It's just a really good book and a fascinating (and realistic-feeling?) portrayal of a disabled character in prehistory. An appetite for diverse or inclusive historical fiction books isn't a modern trend, though if it was that would hardly be a reason to dismiss them. Furthermore diversity in history is not anachronistic.

For anyone interested here's a list of her disabled characters from her TV Tropes page:

Bury Your Disabled: Averted, along with other disability tropes. Sutcliff was physically disabled from early childhood, and wrote many characters who work around congenital defects, Career-Ending Injury, chronic illnesses, and in a few cases mental illness, as well as the odd disability-adjacent issue like stammering or disfigurement.

Congenital physical defects: Adam Hilyarde, The Queen Elizabeth Story; Robert Cecil, Lady-in-Waiting; Drem, Warrior Scarlet; Sir Charles Cavendish, The Rider of the White Horse; Vadir Cedricson, Dawn Wind; Gwalchmai, Sword at Sunset; Archibald Campbell, Heroes and History; Lovel, The Witch's Brat; the Emperor Claudius, Song for a Dark Queen.

Acquired physical disabilities: Robin, The Chronicles of Robin Hood; John Carey, Simon; Marcus, The Eagle of the Ninth; Walter Raleigh, Lady-in-Waiting; Talore, Warrior Scarlet; Midir, The Mark of the Horse Lord; Lucian, The Fugitives; Timotheus, The Flowers of Adonis; Lucianus Calpurnius, The Capricorn Bracelet; Rory the Dirk, We Lived in Drumfyvie; Jestyn Englishman, Hakon One-Eye, Bardas Schlerus, Blood Feud; Moon-Eye, Shifting Sands; Hugh Herriot, Bonnie Dundee; Anoud bin Aziz ibn Rashid, Blood and Sand; Conn, The Shining Company; Onund Treefoot, Sword Song.

Invisible physical conditions: Sir Thomas Fairfax, The Rider of the White Horse; Aracos, A Circlet of Oak Leaves; Prasutagus, Song for a Dark Queen.

Blind Musician: Rhiada, Outcast; The Bard, Warrior Scarlet; Thorn, Literature/Blood Feud.

Speech Impediment: Justin, The Silver Branch; Sir Thomas Fairfax, The Rider of the White Horse; Claudius, Song for a Dark Queen.

Mental irregularities: The Tom-o'-Bedlam, Brother Dusty-Feet; the mazelin, The Shield Ring; Cullen, The Silver Branch; Dicken Gibberdyke, The Rider of the White Horse; Stripey, Swallows in the Spring; Daft Fergie, Old Nannie, and Geordie Breck, We Lived in Drumfyvie.

[bittenwritten]

Idle Gossip

[Harley Quinn 2019] Scarecrow x [Villain] reader

*reader is gender neutral* [Reposted from my Wattpad account]

It all started with your invitation to the Penguin’s nephew’s Bar Mitzvah coming through the mail slot. Normally, you’d prefer to keep to yourself and not attend any social gatherings. However, on this occasion you’d had a rough week and a fancy get-together seemed to be just what the doctor ordered, and so you decided to bite the bullet and attend. Unfortunately, what you seemed to completely forget, until the day of the Bar Mitzvah, is that you'd actually have to talk to people. Great.

You decided that cancelling now would just be more hassle than it was worth, and so that is how you ended up sitting round a small table with a few of your fellow Legion of Doom members discussing the recent drama that was the JoQuinn break-up. Other than the Joker blowing up the host of Good Morning Gotham, this was the first time you were hearing about the whole drama, so it was all news to you. Well, I say ‘conversation’, it was more so just Scarecrow gossiping at the group about the whole hullabaloo while everyone else was becoming tired of the non-stop gossip coming out of Jonathan’s mouth. Well, everyone but you. You couldn’t for the life of you explain, but you just seemed to hang onto every single word that came out of his mouth as he rambled on.

 You weren't even really listening to what was being said anymore, you were just so transfixed by the way he spoke, there was some kind of devilish charm to it that made you feel weak in the knees.

 You’d only recently realized your feelings for the twig of a man on a collaborative heist, where you had to suddenly drag him out of Batman's sight and ended up pinning him up against the wall. Neither of you even said anything, you just stared at each other for an uncomfortably long time until Batman walked in and caught the two of you like that. It had to be the most embarrassing point in your career, but there was something about that flustered look on his face that made your heart skip a beat.

Back in the present, Twoface looked like he was about to lose his patience before the door to the atrium swung open. Two figures stood in the doorway, the more extravagant of the two had a massive tiger on a lead in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. You didn’t even recognise her for a split-second but her pale-white skin was an immediate give away to her identity, it was the Joker’s ex, Harley Quinn. Behind her stood the more intimidating figure of Poison Ivy, she seemed to be more disinterested with the whole thing. Harley took a swing from the bottle and threw it over her shoulder, only to stop dead in her tracks as she looked around in horror, you could only assume she mis-read her invite in regards to what type of party this was. Glancing over to your fellow villains, they seemed to be just as confused as you were.

“Well, this is an interesting development” Scarecrow commented, resting his head in his hand as he leaned forward. “You know...” he started “i bet there’s something going on between those two” he used his free-hand to gesture towards the two.

“Y’know what, I’m starving.” TwoFace quickly stood up “Bane, buddy, how's about you and I go check out the buffet?” 

“Sure, sounds good.” Bane said in his usual upbeat tone.

“Yeah, good idea.” Scarecrow added as he began to stand out of his seat.

“Nah, nah, nah.” TowFace cut him off. “Y’know two’s company but three's a crowd-” he clearly just wanted an excuse to get away from the non-stop gossip that was giving him a head-ache.

“You two just stay put, we’ll be back in a sec” and with that he bee-lined towards the buffet table with Bane following closely behind. Scarecrow slowly sat back down and stared in confusion at the two before turning his attention to you.

“Wonder what got into them” he laughed awkwardly.

“Yeah, I wonder.” you agreed and took a quick sip from your drink.

His expression turned to a more deadpan one. “Well I mean you could at least try to be a bit more subtle with it.” he scoffed.

“Sweetheart, if I was to be subtle about anything, you wouldn’t pick up on a single thing I was implying” you shot back, leaning towards him and taking another swig from your drink.

“Oh, like your obvious attraction to me.” he joked and raised an eyebrow as you spat out your drink in surprise.

“S’cuse me?!” you managed to sputter out once you recovered from your coughing fit.

“Oh give me a break.” he rolled his eyes. “I know I can be a bit oblivious at times but not to this extent.” he said as a smirk formed at the edges of his mouth.

“What are you talking about?” you laughed nervously, trying to relieve some of the sudden tension that had been created. He looked at you like you’d just asked him who Batman was before answering. 

“I mean, you avoiding me recently, your longing stares.” he put a hand on his head in overly dramatic fashion, which admittedly got a slight laugh from you.

“I mean for fucks sake, just now you were making eyes at me throughout the conversation about the break-up.” he added. Your body stiffens and heats up as he finishes his sentence. God, were you that obvious? 

At this point, your face was as red as a tomato and you were stumbling over your words as you failed to come up with a rebuttal. Luckily you were saved from this hell when Bane and TwoFace returned to the table, stopping him from continuing his accusation. You sighed in relief and looked back over to him, he still had that smug smirk on his face that always made your heart flutter. 

“How's the food over there?” you asked.

“Eh, nothing worth spoiling your dinner for.” TwoFace shrugged, sitting back into his seat.

“Uh-oh, who are these trouble-makers?” Harley walked up to the table.

“Nah, I'm just kidding- I know it’s you [name], Scarecrow, TwoFace, other side of TwoFace, Bane-!” you all laughed at her imitation. “I'm gonna’ blow up this Bar Mitzvah” Bane grumbled.

“Quinn, Great ta’ see ya’! Where've ya’ been hiding?” TwoFace asked.

“On your left side where you can’t see shit!”

You all burst into laughter again but this time you couldn’t help but steal another look at Scarecrow. You loved the way he looked when he laughed, from the way his eyes lit up to his dorky smile, you just couldn't get enough of it but you quickly looked away before he could catch your staring.

“So guess who came up with a plan to kill Batman, uh, ya girl-” but before she could continue a looming shape appeared behind her.

“Look who’s trying to run before she can walk”. Well, as if your night couldn’t get any worse, the Joker was here to completely derail it. Great.

The others laughed and you plastered on a fake smile.

“Mazel Tov!” Bane greeted him.

“Jesus”

“Glad you're here, J-man. Pull up a chair, doesn’t bother me-” Harley pulled out the menu.

“So who’s going beef and who’s going chicken?”

“You are going somewhere else-” Joker demanded.

“-because this is the Legion of Doom table! Why don’t you find the crazy bitch table?”

“Spoiler: it’s not a real table” Bane chipped in.

“That was implied-”

“Oh” Bane frowned.

“Who wants to ditch this jester and tear up Gotham with me?!” Harley yelled, which was only met with manic laughter from the Joker.

“Laugh, laugh with me” Joker ordered. You did your best to sound genuine as you forced a laugh, like the others, but you weren't too sure how convincing you sounded.

“Uhh, you know what, who needs ya’ this table is too far away from the dancefloor anyway!” Harley stomped off.

Joker pulled up a seat and sat down.

“Sorry about that folks, women am i right?” None of you really felt comfortable with that last comment.

“Joker, nice to see ya’, didn’t think you’d make it” TwoFace said, greeting him.

“Well, of course, how could i miss such a big event” he grinned, to you it seemed a bit disingenuous but you let it slide.

“Now, what did I miss?”

“Scarecrow was just telling us how Harley dumped ya’.” TwoFace explained.

“Oh really?”

The smug grin on the Joker’s face dropped as he shot a glare at Scarecrow, who was currently sweating bullets.

“Oh I'm sure you're definitely in a position to talk, Crane, seeing as your single ass can’t even get a date, let alone dump one. And for the record, I dumped her.” you could feel the condescending nature of his tone as he spoke. Jonathan looked down at his drink as Joker continued to talk down to him.

You desperately wanted to say something but were snapped out of your thoughts by a loud voice screaming “assholes-”, you all quickly turned to see where the voice came from, only to find it was Harley bitching about you all to Ivy. Joker shot her a smug grin before turning back to the group. He opened his mouth to speak again only to be cut off.

“But they don’t know shit-” Harley screamed again, shaking their table as she slammed her fists onto it. Luckily, this seemed to distract Joker from his rant long enough for him to forget.

“Now, where was I?” 

Thinking quickly you came up with an answer.

“You were talking about dumping Harley.”

“Ah, yes. Can you believe that, the bitch even blew up my hideout out of spite-” he started going on and on about how he was totally the one who ended it. You looked over to Scarecrow as he sighed a breath of relief and mouthed ‘thank you’. You smiled and nodded at him before facing back to the pasty-white madman in front of you. 

By the time Joker had finished his rant, the food had arrived. It was pretty good, but you and Scarecrow were both too busy stealing looks at each other while the other wasn’t looking to enjoy it. 

“Uuh, my chicken’s rubbery.” Joker grumbled.

 “Ooh, your beef looks good” he said as he slid Bane’s plate over to himself.

“Uh, fine” Bane sighed as he reached for the plate of chicken, wanting at least something to eat.

“Ah-“  Joker swatted his hand away. 

“I might finish that.”

“Well, then, what are we doing?-” Bane protested, but was cut off by a voice over the speakers.

“Hey, everybody, let’s give it up for Joshua’s Bar Mitzvah. Huh?” Penguin stood on stage next to his nephew, Joshua.

“It was very special, for me it was when I realized it was my dream to become a crime lord” he wiped a tear from his eye before continuing. 

“So today, I force that dream onto you.” The crowd cheered as he placed a top-hat, that was identical to his, onto Joshua’s head.

You look out of the corner of your eye and catch Scarecrow staring directly at you. Though he was wearing his mask, you could tell he was blushing by the way his eyes darted away from you as he straightened himself the moment your eyes met, only daring to look back at you to see if you were still staring back at him. You flashed him a cheeky grin as you playfully winked at him, you could swear that you saw his heart completely stop beating inside his chest as you did. 

“Okay, Joshua, get ready for your first caper! Good luck fighting off the guards, also known as Gotham Chuckle Hut’s finest improvisers, and stealing that cash-ola, otherwise known as ‘Joshua Bucks’!” The curtains began to open.

“Go Joshua- Oh my God-”

The curtains opened fully to reveal what seemed to be a massacre. The improv troupe lay in pools of their own blood, you could even see the bone fully stick out of one man’s leg for crying out loud! The culprit stood in the doorway of the vault, after somehow getting it open, and was holding some of the ‘Joshua Bucks’. Judging by your table’s reaction, you could tell who it was. Your suspicions were confirmed when the perp spoke up.

“Hey, Joshy, Mazel Tov!” Yeah, it was Harley. You could get a better view of her as she walked closer and picked up one of the men so it looked like he was standing.

There was an audible gasp from the crowd as she dropped him again, further exposing his bones. In contrast, Joker started laughing maniacally and nugded Bane.

“This is fantastic! You’re probably not laughing because this is sort of how you screw up.”

“You ruined the Bar Mitzvah!” Penguin stated as he walked forward as the crowd booed.

“-and crippled an improv troupe!”

“Meh- oh well”

Bane, TwoFace and Bane quickly stood up, but you and Scarecrow were only now snapping fully back into reality.

“If you two could quit your eye-fucking session and hurry up, it would be greatly appreciated-” Joker snapped at you both as he and the others made their way to the vault room, before you could say anything to defend yourselves. You both looked at each other for a split-second but you quickly pushed down your feelings of embarrassment and speeded after them with Jonathan hot on your heels.

“-and that's our show, folks!” Harley announced and took a bow before darting towards the exit.

“I've got this.” Penguin said, cocking his umbrella gun and taking aim.

There was a loud ‘thud’ as Harley fell to the floor as the tranquilizer dart took effect. You all gathered round to see what was happening.

“Say ‘goodnight, Puddin’.” Joker spoke with a smug grin on his face.

“You think… this is gonna’... stop...me?” her words became more slurred as she slipped into unconsciousness. Joker only laughed at ths threat.

“Hah- She even sounds like you!” he laughed as he turned to Bane.

“Oh- I don't think… Do I sound like… You never hear your own voice I guess.” Bane sputtered out, as two of Penguin’s henchmen picked up Harley’s limp body. You all walked out of the vault room and joined the crowd as the music started playing again.

“I’m assuming this is all you’ll be gossiping about for the next year.” you spoke in a hushed tone as you nudged Scarecrow’s arm. He simply rolled his eyes at you, but did nothing to cover up the dorky grin on his face as he did so. 

“Perhaps.” he said, pausing before he continued.

“When I do, would you like me to leave in the part where I repeatedly caught you staring affectionately at me or no?”

“Oh really, ‘cause I could've sworn that I caught you only a couple of minutes ago doing the exact same thing.” you scoffed, leaning towards him.

 You see a hint of momentary panic in his eyes as he tries to conjure up an excuse and push down the feeling of… warmth?- he got in his stomach as he remembered the part where you winked at him, he couldn’t explain it but it felt familiar. Then it hit him like a brick, he knew exactly where he’d felt this before. He’d felt the same weird, warm, fuzzy, confusing feeling when you had him pinned against that old factory wall and were staring into his eyes. He’d rather die than admit it, but you looming above him, the way your chest rose and fell as you panted, the fact that your mouths were so close that if he so much as tilted his head upward your lips would be touching, might have just awoken something in him.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and saw you still waiting for his answer.

“Guilty as charged.” he shrugged and laughed nervously.

Before you could continue, you both noticed four men carrying Harley, who was tied to a chair and just regaining consciousness now.

“Cut the song- No Horah for Harley” Penguin ordered as the men placed the chair down a couple of feet away from him.

“Hey, it's gonna’ take more than a souped-up parasol to keep me from kicking your ass you fat, flightless bird.” Harley snapped.

“The mouth on her!” Penguin turned to Joshua.

“What better way to become a man than by-”

“-Ohh! Than by touching your umbrella? Whoo!” Joshua snatched the umbrella from his hands. 

“Yes! I’ve been waiting for this!” he stated as he pointed it towards Harley

“Any last words before I kill your dumb, blonde, stupid, smelly-”

“-That’s too many adjectives,” Scarecrow whispered. You nodded in agreement.

“-Idiot ass!” Joshua finished.

“Hey, Joshua, make sure you aim it directly at my head ‘cause you don’t want to miss in front of your friends and family-”

“I won’t miss” Joshua stated as his hand began to shake.

“I don’t know.. That trembly finger’s telling a different story-” she taunted.

“I-it’s not trembly, it’s just- I’ve never shot an umbrella before-”

“I bet there’s a lot of things you’ve never done, like: drunk a beer-”

“-I drunk a beer, like all the time. I always drunk beers” his voice became as shaky as his hand as he looked around the room.

“I bet you still believe in Santy Clause.”

“I-i don’t! I’m Jewish and tonight I’m a man!”

“Oh, that’s right, i forgot that I’m talkin’ to a newly grown man- I mean you’ve already finger-banged somebody.” There was a loud gasp from the audience. Well, this got uncomfortable real quick.

“Wait, what?!”

“I mean you have, haven’t you, you didn’t lie about such an important milestone, right?”

“Y-yeah it happened!”

“Are you sure?” Joshua’s body was fully trembling at this point as he looked over to his uncle, who glared back at him, waiting for him to take the shot.

“I-I don’t… I don’t know… it was dark” he stammered .

“It was at camp, at night… it was me and her and it was dark. I definitely did something” 

“Oh, Joshy, do you really think you're ready to kill someone if you’ve never even finger-blasted a girl?”

“You’re right- I’m not ready” he started to sob as he ran into his mother's arms.

“I told you we should’ve gotten him the dollhouse like he asked, Oswald-” she hissed

“It’s not a dollhouse! It’s an army base with sound  effects of real screams, and it’s the only thing I wanted!” his voice broke half way through his sentence.

“Your dead, Quinn” Penguin spat as he aimed his umbrella at her, but then the sound of glass breaking filled the room and a man fell face-first from the ceiling, followed by Poison Ivy lowering herself down from the newly made hole with a vine. Harley greeted her before doing a front flip onto her back which broke the chair, and something else , you assumed by the way she reacted.

“Uuh, i thought that was gonna be way cooler-” she hissed as the Joker walked up to her.

“Harley, you're not a solo-act, you're a sidekick, an afterthought. No one is ever going to take you seriously. Admit you’re nothing without me and you walk away alive. Or you can die!”

“Welp, easy choice.” the weird green man got up from the floor.

“uh , lovely Bar Mitzvah. Mazel, mazel.” he began to walk away.

“Are you leaving?” Ivy asked him.

“Uh, no-”

“I ain’t admitting shit!” Harley hissed as she picked herself up. Joker only sighed.

“Boys?” he called on the four of you, you all grinned and raced to grab your weapons from the table.

“I’ve got TwoFace.” Harley stated.

“I’ve got [name] and Scarecrow.” Ivy confirmed.

“I have-oh wow- oh God- wow.” Kite-Man stared up to see Bane towering over him, who got even bigger when he started pumping venom into himself.

“You- you’re looming! Um, alright, I’ll take, um… if you don’t mind if you could scootch just a little.” he asked, looking past Bane.

“Boom, onsite coordinator. Looking kind of brittle there, won’t see it-” Bane swatted him to the other side of the room before he could finish.

TwoFace opened fire on the two, but Ivy used her vines as a shield for herself and Harley. Within seconds, Harley was flung over the top of the shield and landed behind you and Scarecrow. You both turn around just in time to dodge the first few swings of her bat but as Scarecrow stepped back Harley kicked his gun right out of his hand and yelled for Ivy to pass her TwoFace’s gun. You spun round to see if Jonathan was alright, only to be met with a bat to the back of the head as Harley snuck up behind you, which caused you to fall forwards. You braced yourself for the feeling of your head hitting the hard tiles but were caught on your way down. You looked up to see Scarecrow grabbing you by the arm, you pushed against him and were able to get back on your feet and tossed him his gun. You glanced behind him to see Harley aiming TwoFace’s gun at his back but fired before you could get out a warning. As the bullets punctured the canisters on his back, the force of the fear toxin rushing out sent him flying. You covered your mouth and ran away to avoid the fear toxin that was already causing people to hallucinate, grabbing your gun as you did. Thankfully, Scarecrow landed a couple of feet from where you were and you rushed over to him. You offered him your hand and quickly pulled him up.

Behind you, Harley continued firing from the stolen gun before Penguin was able to shoot it, causing it to explode in Harley’s hand. As she stepped back in shock, she bumped into TwoFace who pulled out two dual handguns. She began to back away to Ivy as you, Scarecrow and Penguin walked up to join TwoFace, weapons drawn.

“Let’s get out of here!” Ivy yelled. Harley looked behind you all only to see Joker filming the whole thing.

“No, let’s fight! Maybe Kite-Man can help!” They glanced over to where Kite-Man was and witnessed as Bane repeatedly punched him in the head while he had him in a choke-hold.

“Bane, quit dicking around with Kite-Man and get those two.”  Joker snapped.

“But he was attacking me-”

“With what, a kite? Just do as I tell you, you dumb, freakish monster!”

“Bane, why are you letting him talk to you like that?” Harley asked.

“In fact, why do any of you let him talk to you like that?” she began to raise her voice as she looked at the four of you. You all lowered your weapons and looked over to where Joker stood.

“He doesn't even have powers-”  you felt your body stiffen as you shifted your gaze down to the floor. 

“His only power is bullying you into doing what he wants. I should know, he did it to me for years.”

“Don’t listen to her! She’s nothing.” Joker protested.

“She makes a good point, I don’t like how you called me a monster” Bane interrupted him.

“Yeah that was pretty harsh” Scarecrow chipped in and looked to you as you nodded in agreement.

“Oh my God, it’s just an expression-” Joker tried to explain it away before Bane interrupted him.

“Also, let’s talk about dinner-” Bane crossed his arms. “I selected the beef well in advance and you stole it from me, you said you didn’t even want to come to this ‘stupid thing’.”

The crowd gasped.

“My thoughts exactly, this is a monumental night for young Joshua.”

“I’m the Joker, I was joking, okay? Oh my God, I’ll kill her myself.” he said, pulling out his gun and pointing it to Harley’s head, only for Ivy to stand in his way.

“Ivy, if you could just, y’know, just move so I, I can just kill your friend.”

“Absolutely- over my dead body.”

“Uhh- female friendships!” he groaned as he got ready to shoot, but Ivy’s vines suddenly sprouted up behind him and surrounded the three. 

The sudden action caused you to step back and instinctively grab onto Scarecrow’s shoulder, which caused him to freeze momentarily before melting into your touch.

Joker aimed his gun at Ivy’s head but she didn’t move a muscle as her vines closed in on him. High-pitch laughter came from his pocket as his phone rang. He began yelling into the phone about some sort of building issue with his base and ran off, but you weren't really paying attention. You looked down at where your hand was, only to notice a large red stain on his upper-arm, it took you mere seconds to realize that it was blood, his blood even. You assumed he must have knocked into something sharp when he was sent flying a couple of minutes ago. You must have looked fairly shocked, as Jonathan followed your gaze down to the wound and tried to brush your hand away.

“I-I’m fine. -really-” he started, but you only grabbed his arm and noticed a multitude of smaller blood stains all over his right side.

“Jesus, Jon, what did you land on, a pile of cutlery?” you asked, more concerned than anything else.

“Well it might as well have been.” he grumbled, quickly glancing over to the, now, broken table he had landed on.

“Right, well, let’s get you patched up.” you said, lightly tugging on his arm.

“Oh, there’s no need, honestly-” He protested before you cut him off.

“-Jonathan, there is a massive gash on your arm. Now come on, I have a first aid kit at my place.” you began leading him to the main exit.

“A-at your place?” he froze in his tracks.

“Yeah? What’s with the shocked face?” you looked back at him.

“You know I don’t bite, right?” you grinned at him. You said your goodbyes and thanked Mrs. Cobblepot for your invitation before dragging him off despite his insistence that he could just ignore it until the party was over and sort it himself.

“Look, you’ve made it clear that you don’t like it when I help but-”

“That’s not what I meant-”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I… I just didn't want to trouble you, that’s all!” That answer came a little too fast for you to fully believe it but you thought it would be best to drop the subject as it clearly flustered him.

As the two of you walked out into the warm summer night you loosened your grip on his upper-arm and let your hand glide down his arm and wrap around his wrist, not daring to go the full mile and hold his hand, though you could swear you saw a hint of disappointment in his eyes as you did. As the two of you stepped into the parking lot and found your car, Scarecrow cleared his throat.

“[Name]?” he glanced over at you as he got into the passenger's side seat.

“Yeah? What is it?”

“It’s okay if I stay the night, innit’? It’s just that my hideout is on the other side of the city and it’s already really late-”

“Well as long as you don’t mind sleeping on the couch, then sure.” you said as you pulled out of the parking space and onto the main road.

“Cheers, luv.” 

 What followed after that was near miss with an oncoming truck and your face becoming a bright red colour as your brain temporarily short-circuited. You looked over to make sure Jonathan was alright, only to see him gripping onto the seat like his life depended on it. 

“Jesus- if you don’t like me calling you that then you can just say so- Bloody hell!” 

“It’s not that, it’s just-” Your brain was working at 100 mph trying to talk your way out of this because: God- did you love the way he called you that. Unfortunately for you, he quickly caught on and was going to give you hell.

“Oh so you like me calling you ‘luv’, then?” The corners of his mouth curled up into a smirk as he noticed the massive blush on your face. 

“Wh- no- that’s not what I meant!”

“Sure thing, luv.” His smirk had turned into an ear-to-ear grin as he saw your face turn an even darker shade of red. This just elicited a loud, frustrated groan from you.

“I swear to God- do you want me to crash this car!” you snapped at him, smacking your hand off the steering wheel, which was only met with laughter as you yelled a string of expletives.

“You wouldn’t do that.” he stated, still giggling to himself.

“What makes you so sure of that?” You scoffed but you couldn’t deny the way your heart sped up when you saw the dorkiest grin on his face.

“You care about me.” He teased, resting his head on the back of his hands.

“Shut up.” You lightly punch his shoulder.

 You tried to cover up the growing smile on your face with your free hand but failed as Jonathan noticed and pulled your hand down from your face, unintentionally encasing your hand in his. It took you both a while to realize it but once you did his hands immediately shot back to his sides and didn’t look at you for the rest of the car journey instead opting to twiddling his thumbs.

“We’re here.” you called, snapping him out of his daze.

You stepped out of your car and into the apartment block. Seeing as you were both still in costume, you darted for the elevator and hit the button. As the elevator began its ascension you  took this opportunity to take a breather, knowing you would have to leg it to your apartment at the very end of the hallway lest someone see you and call the police. You sighed and leaned against the railing while looking at your reflection in the mirror but you couldn’t help noticing the way Scarecrow straightened the noose around his neck as if it was a tie. For fucks sake, if this keeps up you might just lose it. He met your gaze in the mirror and grinned at you.

“I mean, if you want to watch you can just look at me, it’s less creepy.” he chuckled but suddenly stopped as he winced in pain and grabbed his arm. You straightened yourself and rushed to his side. Luckily, you’d reached your floor and as the doors opened you grabbed Jonathan by the wrist and led to your apartment. You quickly looked around before inserting your key into the door, as you fumbled with the key, Jonathan remained eerily quiet compared to his usual gossipy self. You finally got the door to open and the two of you walked into the empty apartment. You felt about for the lightswitch and eventually found it.

“You go sit down, I’m just going to get the first aid from the bathroom.” you gesture towards the couch and walk off. You rummaged around for a bit, eventually finding it at the very back of the cupboard, you checked it’s contents to make sure you had the right stuff. You made your way into the living room and found Jonathan holding a book you’d left out on the coffee table earlier. He looked up at you and then the first aid kit in your hands.

“Right.” you started, taking out a few bandages. “Show me your arm.” After a few minutes of struggling he managed to roll up his sleeve and outstretched it to you. You gently took his hand and sat down next to him. You, deciding that it was probably best to treat the biggest cut first, took out an antiseptic wipe and lightly dabbed the wound Jonathan winced at this but a soft smile from you seemed to help.

“[name]?” He took a deep breath.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for looking out for me. I know I can be… difficult at times -but I really appreciate you dragging me here instead of leaving me to bleed out at the party.” he laughed nervously and averted his gaze from you.

“You're probably one of the closest friends I’ve ever had.” his voice cracked slightly.

You slightly cringed at the word ‘friends’, well, I suppose you better get comfy in the friend-zone. He swallowed and returned his arm to his side before continuing.

“A-and I’d like to be more than that-” he sputtered, beginning to fiddle with the ends of his noose. 

“You… would?” you looked up at him, your heart feeling like it would burst out of your chest if it beated any faster than it already was.

“Yes.” he grabbed your hands and put them between his.

“I like you- a lot! I like your eyes, your face, the way you always know how to make me laugh” he snapped out of his daze.

“-But, I mean if you don’t feel the same way I completely understand, actually on second thought this was a horrible idea and you probably don’t so I’ll just leave and save you the trouble of kicking me out, like you should-” you could hardly keep up with the word vomit coming out of his mouth as he shot out of his seat.

“I’m sorry, I’ve probably wasted your time ‘cause you probably only see me as a friend and I’ve most likely just ruined our friendship so I’ll just leave and I swear you’ll never have to see me again so-” he made a break for the door but you quickly yanked on his wrist which almost caused him to fall backwards.

 He caught himself just in time but was beginning to wish he’d just fallen to the floor instead as he realized he was using you to support himself and had wrapped his arms around your neck. He tried to push himself away, only for you to snake your arms behind his waist and trap him there. You could practically feel the warm air of his breath on you skin as he panted, you could feel yourself melting into his arms and did not stop him as he squeezed you tight. After a few moments, you managed to sit him back onto the couch.

“I want to be more than friends too.” you spoke softly, not missing the ear-to-ear grin on Jonathan’s face.

You leaned onto him, your head resting on his shoulder, he froze up for a split-second before wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

“So, how far off was I?”

“Hmm?” you looked up at him.

“Remember earlier? When I said I saw you giving me looks?”

You gave an exasperated sigh and smirked.

“Was it Bane or TwoFace who had to point it out to you?”

“Both.” he answered with a slight laugh.

“But you’re not denying it!” 

“Why would I, you were doing the exact same thing?” you scoffed, giving him a light punch on the arm.

“Oww- okay, okay, fair point.” he laughed as he pulled you back close to him, brushing a strand of hair out of your eyes and behind your ear.

“Y’know, if you were anyone else I would’ve killed you” you only half-joked, tracing shapes with your fingers onto his chest.

“I know” he laughed, placing a hand under your chin and lightly lifting it so you two were making eye-contact.

“-And that's what I lo-” he cut himself off. “I mean, like about you” he smiled sheepishly.

You only smiled before cupping his face and pulling him closer.

“I love you too, you fucking dork” you chuckled before leaning in and kissing him.

He practically jumped out his skin when you did, but as the realization sunk in he wrapped both arms around you and kissed back, eyes fluttering shut. His lips pressed softly against yours, as one of his hands travelled up your back and cupped the back of your head. The kiss itself was very soft and didn’t last too long, maybe only a couple of seconds, but to you it felt like an eternity. Your lips finally parted when you both were in desperate need for air, but that dazed look on his face made you want to do it all over again.

“You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that.” you smiled up at him.

“Same here” he added, before quickly pulling you back in for another kiss.

[delu-jean]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧: 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

(Jean x fem!/reader) -> Angst -> 4.7k 

Notes: Sorry for updating a lot later than expected! Here’s chapter eleven, and twelve will be out as soon as I write it. Hope you enjoy! 

Ⅹ > Ⅻ

During the night, you had no dreams or nightmares. It was simply peaceful, calming, and warm. Having him beside you (though he was on the floor) gave you the utmost comfort. He was really here with you, resting to the side, while you did the same. Such a feeling that was yearned for, had finally found its way back to you. The first night in what seemed like forever where you actually slept through calmly. 

You woke up the next day to see the sun peer in. Through the crack of your blinds, highlighting the walls of your cozy room. The birds, though silent, remained present as the wind rustled quietly. Jean lay on the floor. His hand still clung onto yours from the night before. His grip felt secure and gentle when holding yours. His hair laced over the pillows, as his body was barely covered by the sheets. Only now did you realize how much of a mover he was. Though that was the case, he still miraculously held you through the night. Without causing any discomfort whatsoever. 

You wanted to sit in this moment for a tad longer, but knew you would have to ready you both for the day ahead. You tried to slip out of his hand, but to your failed attempt, he gripped even tighter. He really wasn’t going to make this easy. You tried yet again, using your other hand to assist. Regardless, his one hand and few fingers kept you grounded. You thought that was the end of things, but he then pulled you in. Locking you in a tight embrace. You shook your head, both flustered and disappointed. You needed to get away from him, yet here he was, keeping you captive. 

“Jean...Jean I need to get up-” 

“Not again...no...never,” he mumbled. 

It seemed as if he was sleep talking. If he was conscious, he probably would’ve laughed at you by now. You were sad to hear such words. He had gone through so much trauma to the point he couldn’t let go of you. 

“I’m not leaving...not yet at least...so Jean, don’t worry and please let me go,” you cupped his cheek as it sank into your touch. His head now leaning towards you, and his face at a closer range. Smiling at the reaction, you then heard a knock coming from outside. 

“Hm...I have to go now,” he seemed less tense than earlier. It must’ve been because of your words since he actually let you go. You got up, put yourself in a cardigan, and quickly tied your hair. Maybe this time it was actually Reiner, for goodness sake you would now need to leave a candle there. Just in case next time, it’s a crazy psycho and not Jean. 

You opened the door, ready to attack if it was anyone threatening. Though hesitant, you let your guard down, opening the door even wider. 

“Ah Y/n! Long time no see,” you stared at the woman, flowers in one hand, while treats in the other. 

“Alexandra, what are you doing here?” you smiled shocked. 

Alexandra was also a person from the military. An Eldian soldier who commanded her own squad. Though your rank was a tad higher than her’s, she was never too far from you. You both conversed here and there. Though you weren’t as close to her as you were with the warrior unit, you were both mutually acquainted. Enjoying each other’s company from time to time. 

“I just came to drop by. If you’re busy, I can come sometime later today,” you didn’t want to be rude and reject her. Even though Jean was over, you assumed that if he had heard someone else (other than you) in the house, that he would keep quiet. 

“No no no, I insist. Come in, I’m free,” you led her inside for her to then place the gifts on the table. Now that you thought about it, this was the second time she had been to your house. That being said, you were surprised she still had this place memorized. Not only that, but you were surprised she had come out of the blue. Did she have something important to share, what drove her to come? 

“Curious are we?” she laughed as your eyes widened, embarrassed. 

“Of course not-” 

“Haha, you’re not a very good liar Y/n~” 

“I guess you’re right about that,” you grinned as you started to prepare tea. She was just such a lady, and plus, tea complimented any situation. So why not make some now? 

“Hm lovely. Earl Grey if I’m correct?” 

“Haha, yes you are,” you then placed a cup down. Pouring the tea as she patiently waited. Crossing her legs and setting the treats she brought across the table. 

“I’m sorry I’ve come so early in the morning, it’s just that my squad is going to be shipped out sometime tomorrow...so I wanted to say my goodbyes before then.” 

“What do you mean? I know you’ll come back,” you smiled as she followed hesitantly.  

“Yeah...of course I will,” you then set the teapot down, as she took a sip.  

“Hey so...I heard that someone might be getting married,” you start to drink your tea, eyeing her suspiciously. 

“Who?” 

“Who else but you,” you choked on the beverage, wondering as to how she would know such a thing. You then tried to play things cool, hoping the subject would slowly avert. 

“I’m still not understanding?-”

“You and Reiner silly. It’s been going around everywhere...didn’t you know?” 

“No...I...I didn’t know that others knew?...” 

“Ahh I see. Well, from what I know, the town seems content with such a proposal. The ladies have been talking about what kind of future you both might have, even with the limited time. Not only that, but Reiner’s mother seems ecstatic with both the arrangements, and attention being given,” you then bite down on your tongue. Never would you have thought things would escalate so quickly. Rumors that weren’t even confirmed, yet spread like wildfire. She then placed her cup down, grabbing one of the deserts to munch, and then covered her mouth. She spoke, trying to keep her manners while also enjoying the treat. 

“So, have you prepared a wedding dress, did he give you a ring yet, or are you both going to wait for the day of?” 

“No...I haven’t been given a ring, nor have I gotten anything.” 

“Wait, really?” 

“Yeah…” 

“Hm...well okay. Let me ask you a different question.” 

“Of course, whenever you’re ready,” she then finished, and took a sip. Eyeing you as you sat uncomfortable, not sure what her next approach would be. 

“You do like him, don’t you?” 

“Um...well...I...I would say-” 

“You know, I’ve always thought the both of you were...how do I say it, cute. Very cute actually.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” you laughed a little, thinking she was being sarcastic. Whereas she was being quite serious. 

“You two have always seemed so close. You both respect each other, take the time to have one on ones, you also put in the effort to see each other’s families, and just...so much more. You’ve always seemed like a couple, or, couple goals to say the least. Not only that, but you seem to genuinely care for each other. You give words of affirmation, and he gives you acts of genuine affection.” 

“How would you know such a thing?” your brow cocked as she sighed. 

“My dear, it’s called observation. Speaking of observing, you can’t deny that Reiner is very attractive.” 

“I-” 

“I mean, he’s a total catch. He’s a very good looking gentleman. One that actually takes care of his hygiene. He’s presentable most of the time, and treats you like the lady you are. Giving you the respect which you deserve. Very attractive in my opinion. Chivalrous, yet understanding of a lady’s worth.” 

“I agree with that,” though your feelings for Reiner were platonic, what she stated was...somewhat true. Just disclude the whole “wanting to kill you,” along with the “using you as a way to cope,” and vice versa. 

“So you do like him?” she asked as you sat there, not sure about what your response would be. 

“Well…” a question then sprung in your head. You put your cup down, to then eye her yourself as she locked her gaze. Awaiting for whatever your answer would be. 

“Alexandra what if...what if there was someone else?” 

“Someone better looking than Reiner?” 

“I...I guess so,” you chuckled as she stared at you in shock. 

“No way...did you get with Porco? Wow...you surprise me the more I get to know you-” 

“Wait a minute, you think Porco is more charming than Reiner?” You cut her midway through, baffled to say the least. Now you were the person in shock as she smiled cockishly. Proud of such a statement. 

“Well...yes...yes I do,” she said shamelessly as you now laughed. 

“Wait, but why? I’m genuinely curious,” you said, obviously having a different opinion. 

“First of all, his undercut is both sharp and clean. Not only that, but the dirty blonde really suits him. His build is nice, along with the fashion he portrays. Though not too out of the ordinary, you can tell he puts in the effort to look his best.  

The energy he gives off is adventurous, dark, and mysterious, you know? But at the same time, he also seems like a gentleman. One who’s misunderstood, yet has a soft interior. His eyes seem to hide an excruciating pain, yet his smile is one full of brightness, and laughter,” you were surprised about how philosophical, and passionate she was when describing Porco...Porco of all people. No offense to him, but you would never see him in such light. 

Regardless, she seemed proud to say such a statement, as she then asked you: 

“And you? Just what about Reiner intrigues you? I understand for some reasons, but more than Porco?” you nodded to then state: 

“I can’t guarantee my description will be a full fledged english essay. But oh well, here it goes,” she listened intrigued, ready to hear your rebuttal. 

“Well, he does have a beard. Though Zeke’s is fuller, Reiner’s compliments his face structure. He has a very um...broad build, the blonde suits him well, and over all, is a very sweet person. Compared to Porco, I would say he has a much more timid nature. Don’t get me wrong, he can speak his mind, but is a little more sensitive when doing so. That being the case, I feel as if he’s more relatable. Though, I may be saying this because I’ve known him for longer, outside of Marely of course, I just think he’s the better option-” 

  “The better option, so he is an option. Meaning that you feel attracted to him. Leading to the conclusion that you like him,” she grinned maliciously as you panicked. 

“Um well...I wouldn’t say that…” 

“Interesting...but my point still stands haha. If you ever need someone to help you prepare for the occasion...if I come back...I’ll be sure to aid you.” 

“Of course,” she then stood up, placing the flowers in a vase. Grabbing her bag, her coat, her hat, standing before you. 

“But before I go, just who is this other person?...Are you really seeing someone?” 

“I…” you weren’t sure what to say to her, as the hesitation rang in your voice.

“No...I just wanted to know what your thoughts would be,”  You know you should have told her yes, but you just couldn’t. You didn’t want to add any more fuel to the fire, and if you couldn’t even tell the warriors, telling someone else shouldn’t have been an option. 

“I see, well...farewell Y/n. Let us meet again, and if not here...somewhere else…” 

“Yes, of course,” you smiled happily as the door then shut. 

You were glad that one, she came to visit you, and two, that things were now over. You sat in your seat, stretching out your arms to hear another knock. Except this time, it was coming from behind you. Your head then flung backwards, your smile growing even wider as your chair tilted. 

“Good morning handsome~” 

“Good morning beautiful, how are you?” 

“Greater than ever, how about you? Did you sleep well?” 

“Magnificent. Also yeah, I did sleep well...surprisingly,” you both laughed a little, as you then got up, placing breakfast for the both of you. Though a little full from the meeting before, you still wanted to enjoy a meal with Jean. After all, it had been so long since the last time you did. And plus, that was during your time as a cadet. You weren’t able to enjoy such a feast in the morning. 

You both ate in silence. Both of you trying to enjoy the food, and each other’s company. Letting the peace around settle in. Once you had finished both eating, and cleaning up after yourselves, you then decided to speak, asking: 

“Did you hear the conversation I had earlier? I’m assuming you probably woke up because of it,” you didn’t ask how much he heard. You instead wanted to see how much he did hear from the man himself. He put the cloth he was holding down. Similar to you, he wanted to see if you’d tell him anything from the conversation. So he asked: 

“Was there anything important I should be informed about regarding it?” 

“No…” you lied guiltily, but you didn’t know how to handle it otherwise. He then decided to hint you with what he knew, by saying: 

“Hm...Is Reiner really your type? Do I have to buff it up, go blonde, and grow a stache?” he then touched his face as you laughed. Both out of silliness, and nervousness. You felt worried knowing he heard that much of your conversation. Meaning, he knew you hadn’t denied Alexandra even once. 

“Haha no! I love you just the way you areeee!” 

He then looked at the ground, leading him to stand up. 

“If that’s the case,” he leaned against the wall, staring at you intensely. 

“No? Y/n, why did you say no?” you sighed in defeat, seeing that he most definitely was on your tail. 

“I can’t tell her I’m dating a ‘devil’ from Paradis,” you said, trying to make an excuse. 

“You wouldn’t have needed to tell her that...just saying yes should’ve been a good enough answer. You didn’t have to say no.”

“I know…”

“Then why did you?..” 

“I just...I’m not even sure myself-” 

“About this...us?...” he stopped himself while clenching his fist. Though he was annoyed, he didn’t want to push that onto you. He knew you cared about your relationship, and plus, it sounded petty for him to say.  

“Never mind...it’s not a big deal.” 

“I see…” you agreed, still feeling guilty as he then asked: 

“You’re not planning on marrying him...right?” 

“Hm,” you think to yourself. Though your mind had run blank, he certainly did not as it ran with rage. Seeing you hesitate when the answer should have been obvious. He just couldn’t handle it, along with his sense of inferiority. Though he had matured, there were still times where acted otherwise. This being one of them. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t say no, almost immediately-” 

“You know I won’t Jean…” 

“Then why didn’t you tell off your friend? You didn’t deny the proposal, or  your affection for him.”

Jean wasn’t jealous, rather, frustrated. Frustrated that you weren’t using your words (yet again), nor telling him any of your thoughts. It's like watching a movie with no audio, he wasn’t able to understand your actions even when seeing them. Without any coordination, communication would never reach his side of the spectrum. 

He scrunched his eyebrows, and pinched the bridge between them. Though that was the case, he was trying to be patient with you. After all, this was something new and he didn’t want you to feel pressured. Nor did he want you to feel like it was completely your fault. Even if it was, he wouldn’t have known unless you told him so. 

“Look Y/n...I really don’t want to fight, especially over something like this. But in order for me to understand things, even if it does hurt my feelings, I need to understand your thought process. That way, I’m able to clear up any misunderstandings. You tend to keep your mouth shut, and that’s not something that we need as of right now. You know how I feel, now it’s your turn,” you were still hesitant, feeling pressured as he approached you. He looked into your eyes. His stare was desperate, yet understanding. Patting your head as you gazed upwards. 

“I’m sorry for acting like that...but you know...your actions do hurt me, especially when I don’t know where you’re coming from. So can you please...try to explain?” he pouted as you sighed, ready to convey how you felt. He seemed excited seeing that you were somewhat ready, feeling like a proud father...which was something he didn’t feel often (having both Connie and Sasha). It was a weird metaphor, but the only one which could describe the moment. 

“I wasn’t sure if I should tell her. Although I do trust her, it could get out. You never know. Plus, I didn’t want to deny the proposal yet. I still need to talk things out with Reiner, and his mother” he seemed a bit disappointed, leading you to then hug him.  

“But I can promise you, it’s something that won’t happen. I love you, and you alone,” he then wrapped his arms around, returning the favour. Him hovering over your top half, as you hugged his torso, still in your seat. 

“I see...thanks for that but...I think I’ll still go blonde-”

“NO! I like your brown hair, it’s cute!” 

“Cute eh? I guess I’ll keep it then,” Him then smirking at the ego boost, as you sat flushed. 

“I love your hair as well.” 

---

After breakfast, you both decided to make plans. Heading out for a walk in the park, wanting to spend more time together. If anything, you could conclude it as being a date. You went out for lunch, and strolled together while conversing. Though walking was a great thing, so was sitting. That being the case, you both sat on a bench. Hands intertwined, feet swinging, and him calmly humming. Moments had passed in such comfort for him to ask: 

“What’s happened in your life? Well, other than becoming part of the military, and all of the boring stuff.” 

“Nothing much, how about you? What’s been happening in yours?”

“Ah...I can’t say too much about that,” he nervously said, as you backed off, understanding it wasn’t something to be said aloud. You both then sat awkwardly, only for you to ask something that you had been curious about. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened? After I left...the truth if possible,” you knew Jean was a truthful person, you trusted him, but you also knew he would sugar coat things to make you feel better. That being the case, you wanted honesty. No matter what. Afterall, you deserved to hear such criticism if needed. It was the least you could do to attone. 

“I guess I’ll start off lightly. Um...we did find the cellar, the one which Eren’s father resided in. We also took back Shiganshina, though now mainly used for military purposes...I think. Not only that, but your horse has been doing fine.” 

“Violet? How about Buchwald?” 

“Yeah, him too. They’re pretty good friends in my opinion,” he looked at you to see that you weren’t content. It seemed as if you wanted to know more, rather than being shielded by the lightness in his words. Since you could make your own decisions, so could he. Deciding that he would tell you instead of keeping you from things. Things that you honestly...deserved to know. 

“After you died...I barely slept. I couldn’t eat, train, or even walk for that matter. I was pretty malnourished during that time, refusing to have a meal. I did that feeling guilty that you couldn’t have it with me. You passed and yet I still lived?...it didn’t seem fair no matter what was said. I was pretty grumpy as well. Angry, sad, and confused. Not knowing what to do. 

When Marco died, instead of mourning, I instead used it as a way to motivate me. To push myself even further for humanity, so that his death wouldn’t go in vain. But with your death...I couldn’t even. It was too painful to even bring up. Thinking of it as my motivation, seemed both coward like, and sickening. 

Everyone else was pretty moody as well. Not sure how to approach such rogue behaviour from me, nor how to accept your death. Even though I made the biggest ordeal, they still mourned. However, even though that was the case, what matters is that you’re alive now. We’ve also talked things through, and now I’m here...with you,” he grasped your hand, smiling softly. The guilt that now built in your stomach, remind you of the pain you put him through. Not only that, but the anguish which held him captive for so many years. Though you put him in such a position...he was still willing to forgive you? 

You stared at him. His eyes broken, yet also...in the process of healing. Although you couldn’t change the past, maybe you could alter the present, concluding in a better future for you both. You smiled as his thumb caressed your knuckles, loving the warmth. You sat there for a second, to then ask: 

“Tell me...is Berthold alive?...in Paradis?” he then stopped, as he looked at the ground. You understood the answer, based on the actions given. 

“How did he die?” 

“Armin...ate him-”

“What? That’s only possible if-”

“We had spinal fluid? I know,” you sat there spooked. Just now finding out Paradis had such information, climbing up the latter as you spoke. They’d probably catch up to your wits eventually. Though that was the case, and you could have worried even more, you decided against it. Knowing this wasn’t the time to. 

Instead, you decided to focus on Bertholdt. He was really gone...though you assumed it would have been better than being held captive, it still hurt. He must have felt so much pain going through that. Not only did he get eaten, but he was alone. None of you were there to help, nor witness such a sight. It saddened you as your eyes teared. The sweetest person, the only person who didn’t want to fight, was finally taken out of it in such a brutal way. 

Jean saw the distress that struck across you, as he then wiped your tears. Trying to console you the best way he could. He knew what it felt like to lose a friend, heck he even thought he lost you. It was a process that hurt a lot...but one that would come to pass.

“What about everyone else?...”

“Hm...everyone is fine...especially Sasha and Connie. Those two are still as lively as ever,” he smiled as you followed suit. 

“I’m glad they’re still the hooligans they were.” 

“Yeah…me too.” 

“How did you get here?...and why are you here?” you asked, genuinely wanting to know. 

“Shh...it’s a secret,” he joked, obviously trying to avoid the question. After he answered, you could feel the tension in the air. One not wanting to tell the other everything just yet. You both trusted each other...yet felt as if your intentions...were something to keep behind closed doors…. For now at least. 

Jean then sighed, gripping onto your hand even tighter. He, along with you, tried breaking the ice. Him with his actions, and you with your words. Though it felt a little awkward, you still wanted to carry out your conversation. 

“You know, even though I tried pushing things aside...after leaving...I could never get over the departure. Separating from you, our comrades, and the place that made me feel...happy...normal...and well...loved,” grinning he then draped his arm over you. Your hand then grabbed his which lay on your chest, both intertwining whilst you both were even closer. 

“Also...I’m surprised you didn’t move on. Especially after all of that time,” his expression then changed into a curious one. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well...you thought I died. Not only that, but you're quite the ladies man. So I wouldn’t see you having much to...any difficulty actually.” 

“I could never Y/n...though it sounds childish, you were my first love. I couldn’t imagine leaving you for someone else, even if you had passed. I would’ve died an old stallion,” he dramatically said as you burst out laughing. He loved seeing the face you’d make when you were happy.  How lovely the corner of your lips would lift, the way your eyes crinkled, as your brows lifted the slightest bit. He was glad he could see such a sight, and that he was the cause behind it. 

“Who said you won't, ya horse!” 

“HEY! I’M NOT ONE!” laughter continued to fill the atmosphere. Both you and him adding your humor to the mood. Laying your head on his chest, and moving in closer. 

“You know, if we ever do part ways...don’t feel bad, okay?” you stated. 

“What do you mean?” 

“It can apply to anything but...I mean death to be more specific. You never know what will happen in the midst of battle.” 

“Hm...I guess so” 

“But, the guilt will live with me forever. No matter what because...I just love you that much,” you smile to yourself and nod.  

“I too, love you just as much...Jean. And I always will.” 

--- 

While you two were enjoying your moment, being yourselves, cherishing each other’s presence, Zeke was not having any of it. He didn’t hate the sight of you being with someone else, it was just that...he thought your priorities lay elsewhere. Both in loyalty, and worth ethically. That being the case, he decided to do the only logical thing. Crash. The. Party. 

So, he crept behind the both of you, clawed his hands, and placed them on your shoulders screaming: 

“BOO!” 

“WHAT THE HECK!” you then smacked his arm, quickly squirming away from Jean. 

“Heh, good morning to you as well, Y/n. Now, who’s this we have here?” Before you could respond, Jean sighed, extending his hand. He knew that if he let you talk, you would be put in another awkward position. 

“My name is...John. A friend of Y/n,” you wheezed internally. He just had to pick the most generic name, one which sounded like his own. Zeke grabbed his hand, and shook it. 

“Ah...nice to meet you John. Anyways, Y/n...Reiner has been looking for you all morning. His face seemed urgent, so I think you should go see him,” though Jean wasn’t pleased, with both Zeke, and the fact you had to leave (him for Reiner), he approved of the notion with a small nod. 

“I’ll see you later, Je-John.” 

“Yeah...same here,” he then walked the other direction, leaving both you and Zeke to walk towards HQ. 

“Were you lying, about Reiner?” hand in his pocket, as the other smoked up a storm. 

---

“No, I wasn’t. He actually was looking for you.” 

“I see.” 

“Also Y/n, just for the record, know that I’m not dumb, nor oblivious. I know what stunt you two were pulling off, trying to lie to me, tch,” he said, clearly annoyed. You inhaled the smoke of cigarettes. Not sure what to tell him. But you were also...laughing a bit. Actually enjoying his reaction since you’ve never seen Zeke so frustrated out of work. 

“I see I’ve upset you?” 

“Whatever you rascal. How long have you been with him?” he smiled as your hands clasped. 

“We really are just friends. I met him at a pub, nothing much has happened between us, nor will anything in general,” he sighed as his tone became a lot firmer. Though he didn’t believe you, he still had something to say.

“You need to be more careful. If it were someone else who had seen, even more rumors would've been speculated, you know that? Plus, friendship or not, know where your priorities stand,” you choked on your saliva, trying to cough as his words caught you by surprise. 

Before he could say anything more, the gates to HQ then opened for the both of you to see...Reiner...running as fast as he could. 

“Reiner?...” 

“Y/n! You’re here!” 

“Yeah...I am….” 

“I need you, let’s go,” he then dragged you elsewhere as Zeke stomped on his cigarette. 

“You may need her...but does she actually need you...Reiner?” 

Ⅹ > Ⅻ

[cogentranting]

So I’ve seen some complaints about the finale not having Klaus conjure a ghost army to fight the Commission. And I’ve seen some good rebuttals as to why maybe he didn’t (mainly revolving around his ptsd and the strain on him through the season). And while I think that’s a really good, valid point, I think there’s another reason:

He can’t yet. 

But he’s done it before. No. He’s conjured one ghost to fight for him, and two to hold him up. He’s talked to more ghosts before than that, but he’s never made more than two corporeal at a time. In fact, those two cowboys that caught him in the finale are the first time he is able to make more than just Ben corporeal. In this timeline that’s the most he’s ever done with that aspect of his power. So it’s not a safe assumption to say that he is capable at this point in the story of multiplying that by 100 or 1000 or 10000. Because logically that would be a much more significant expenditure of his power. 

But we saw him do it in the opening fight of the season. Yes. But in that season opener we saw all of them (minus Five and Ben) operating with significant upgrades to their powers and the way they fight and yet none of them have reached that upgrade in the main timeline of the season. Something about having Five present in the timeline this time around changed things so that they never learned how to push themselves to that point. 

Allison is the clearest-- we see Allison using her power again, but what she did in the opener was completely different. She wasn’t using mind control, she was actual using her voice to create a real physical effect (blowing up heads). And in the main timeline she hasn’t come close to doing anything like that, or even attempting it, much less doing it with the confidence shown in the opener. 

Luther- in the opener it’s not necessarily using his power in a new way (because what can you do with super strength that’s new?) but he’s learned to use it in a really effective way and taking a massive hit unscathed and we don’t see him doing anything similar in the finale fight. 

Vanya- vanya maybe has reached the level of the fight from the opener (she’s certainly closer to it than she was) but I might still argue that she doesn’t have the full control that she demonstrates in the opener, since the blast she uses to take out the army doesn’t require much finesse. 

Diego- He DOES take a big step forward with his power by stopping the bullets, but he ISN’T at the level from the opener. Stopping all the bullets and then just kind of throwing them off to one side takes much less control and finesse than what he did in the opener-- he took control of about eight different bullets coming from different directions, and instead of just moving them away from himself, he redirected them into individual new targets, hitting each one perfectly, while doing a twisty front flip off a car (compared to the intense concentration of the finale). 

So it seems safe to assume that Klaus is on the same page as the rest of his siblings and has not gotten his big upgrade yet. 

WHY did the writers tease their potential and then not have them reach it this season? I’m not sure. It seems like it’s an idea they’re planting to be paid off later (hopefully next season, not even later). 

My best guess at what that is: The Sparrow Academy is going to be a team closer to their peak potential. The Umbrella Academy mostly stopped pushing themselves to develop their powers pretty early on (possibly because of Five’s disappearance). Facing the Sparrows will be the impetus for them exploring their powers more deeply. But the beginning of season 2 was the best opportunity to give Five a glimpse of what that potential IS. Him having had that glimpse will be instrumental in getting the others to realize that they haven’t fully explored their potential yet (instead of just... concluding that the Sparrow’s are better than they are). 

[magicalforcesau]

Letters (part 1)

The written correspondence between Obi-Wan and Satine throughout their Hogwarts career. In this part, we see the early stages of their friendship leading up to where we find ourselves in the beginning of “Dancing with Ghosts in Your Garden”.

ao3 link

First Year- Winter

Dear Obi-Wan,

I distinctly recall requesting that we continue correspondence over the course of our winter holiday and yet, here we are nearing the halfway point without any trace of a letter. It is to my understanding that you are intrinsically hardwired to automate politeness, but such pleasantries are meaningless if you do not intend on following through. Here I was thinking that despite our many differences, that we were becoming acquaintances. 

Before you go off developing delusions of grandeur thinking I am lonely or desperate for your reciprocated communication, I am quite well off either way. I am just miffed that I was not afforded the opportunity to practice writing in Mando’a more this break and my owl, Copikla, needed the exercise. 

Should this letter find you well, I must emphasize that I am not crying out for a response. Your silence will be loud enough on your intentions regarding any pursuit of a potential friendship. Do not write back out of pity, either, because that would be as insulting as it would be foolish.

Sincerely,

Satine Kryze

Dear Satine,

Please understand that I am deeply apologetic for not writing sooner. It was not out of intentional callousness nor more damningly, indifference. Cody had written to me as well asking in regard to my whereabouts. Though it is not an excuse for my silence, I’ve mentioned before that my parents are very specific in what they expect of me, and unfortunately, I did not meet their hopes for the term. As a result, I've resolved to cleaning every square inch of the house. While this might seem like a simple set of chores, I promise you my house has many inches to clean.

Even in writing this letter I had to perform with haste. Mother has, of course, enlisted my assistance for the New Year’s party as she had for the Christmas party. I beg of you to ignore the fact that this is written on a napkin. All of my parchment is upstairs.

My semester at Hogwarts could have been completely dreadful had it not been for Cody and your combined efforts in preventing me from wallowing in my own self-pity. I am beginning to see the positives in starting fresh in Ravenclaw house and hope that one day, I will be capable of showing my parents the potential as well. Only time will tell, but I cannot wait to return to Hogwarts and that is because of the both of you.

I truly hope I can return some of the happiness you’ve given me and I say that not out of obligation, but from the depths of my heart.

Sincerely,

Obi-Wan Kenobi

 Second Year- Summer

Dear Obi-Wan,

I know we just parted not but a few hours ago (don’t let it go to your head), but I couldn't help but look up what we were discussing earlier on the train. The International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy was formed due to the many witch and wizard (mostly witch- sexism and all that) burnings that were taking place all across the globe. Witches and wizards did not feel safe especially for their young, who could not control their magic as easily. However, as I suspected, there was opposition to maintaining secrecy and it was from none other than the pureblood sectors of magic.

That’s interesting, right? Especially when you consider our present political climate where it is the opposite. The purebloods preferred the melding of the two worlds, because they enjoyed coming and going as they pleased as well as associating with the upper class muggles of the time. 

I hope you are not chained to your bedpost for the entire summer considering Ravenclaw claimed the House Cup in part to your miraculous save at the end of the match. You certainly deserve to see a little sunlight and that’s coming from someone as pale as myself.

Do actually write back this time if you’re allotted a quill and parchment. You’ll be insulted to know I am using a mechanical pen as we speak. There are some aspects of the wizarding culture that I will never understand, and the lack of simple innovation is one of them.

Sincerely,

Satine

 Dear Satine,

What is truly a wonder is that someone is tackling the summer reading assignments even before I’ve managed to touch them! If you aren’t careful, everyone is going to start calling you the nerd behind your back. They’d be utterly daft to say it to your face, of course. I do not want to hear any nonsense about you finishing your homework before me, because simply using a standard pen is giving you a significant advantage to your arsenal. Before you retaliate with some droll rebuttal about how I’ve had countless advantages in being bred with wizarding history all around me, I think you need to reconsider my sources and how often I have to sift through half-truths to find reality.

For instance, the very piece of history you’re speaking of is told entirely differently in our textbooks than it has been my whole life. My family has always given off the impression that purebloods wanted to spare the less fortunate wizards from the muggle world and that it was those of lower status who did not understand the dangers of the world and got themselves twisted with dangerous muggles. It’s a little frightening how perspective changes the course of history.

The witch burnings were truly a terrible incident altogether, which is something all sources seem to agree upon. I do wonder though if they were more like martyrs for the ISS to begin. I’m sure muggle history has its ugly spots as well in regards to this era. When you finish your assignments and inevitably grow bored enough to write to me again, I’d be interested to hear the muggle perspective on historical incidents such as these. I’m sure as someone who has gone to muggle primary school, you were afforded a different and more rounded perspective on the matter. 

Sincerely,

Obi-Wan

 Third Year- Summer

Dear Ben,

I don’t understand how you can even REMOTELY believe that an institute that enslaves LIVING BEINGS of any kind is anywhere near acceptable. How do you go a full two years of knowing a person and never come across that key factoid? While I do often find myself trying to be considerate of the environment you grew up in, this is a basic core belief that is incredibly black and white. Either you believe that slavery is a reasonable option, or you do not. It is not a subject in which someone can have no opinion, because in doing so would only support those that believe in its merit. It’s how oppression thrives, not in its believers, but in those unwilling to say anything at all. 

House Elves were not enslaved because it was the very reason they were created, but they were enslaved and then brainwashed into believing that their life’s purpose was to serve. The very ideal of their desires being infringed upon with the abolitionist movement was a narrative that was bred by slaveowners. A while back, when we spoke of witch burnings and of skewed narratives, you mentioned that you have been raised under the belief that historical moments happened a certain way. You then had to question your beliefs because your textbook said differently.

Allow me to be your textbook: wizards are not entitled to house elves. The institution that thrives off of the economic convenience of house elves was built on the backs of slavery. Cruelty. So, pardon me for feeling no remorse in the economic lapse taken when your ancestors were forced by wizarding statute to relinquish their slaves. In fact, I am doubling down on that apathy in how your family treats their paid servants. 

Sincerely,

Satine

Dear Satine,

I never said owning a house elf was okay nor did I say I agreed with it. For Pete’s sake, do you always have to dig into controversy the moment we enter the borders of London? I swear you get pleasure out of catching me with my foot in my mouth with the excuse to go on some form of a tirade. How silly of me to ever dare to assume that I had the last word on the train.

House Elves were slaves and it was and always will be wrong. You’ll have no arguments from me in that regard and I’ve always believed that, with or without your infinite wisdom. I wish it was never a facet of our society, but it was. I’ve been honest with you in reference to how poorly my parents treat their servants and that they are not paid a typical wage, but out of indentured servitude. I was merely stating before that I have no pull nor say in ending this “contract”, not that I agree with its existence. While I’ll be honest, I never truly considered the injustice of it all until more recently, I never envied him and always showed compassion. I’ve been compassionate not to lessen my burden of guilt, but because it’s the right way to be.

I do not appreciate your comments in reference to my upbringing, as though that somehow makes me a lesser person simply because I come from bias. Everyone has bias and everyone must learn to differentiate from them. 

My primary argument was from an economic standpoint only and in trying to raise the important question of how to repair that without relying on servitude. To this day, former elves struggle as some of the very elves who participated in the revolution are still alive and without a set purpose in this economy. Though they deserved to be free, the manner at which is was done was nearly as horrible as keeping them chained forever. Most fall back into stride of serving former masters. It raises the question of if they were ever really free and if we require such practices in order to thrive, are we really free? That doesn’t say much about us, now does it?

Now that I had more than exactly three seconds to articulate my point, does that satisfy you? Or would you rather return to your soapbox?

Sincerely,

Obi-Wan

P.S.: I hope your newfound abhorrence to my character does not prevent you from continuing to write this summer.

 Third Year- Winter

Dear Satine,

Perhaps it’s near damnation for me to be physically documenting this moment, but I simply had to tell somebody. That impulse alone is a very frightening character change that I did not see coming. I’ve always thought I liked keeping to myself, but now I wonder if that was mere acceptance rather than preference. Regardless, I need you to know that I released Jar Jar, our humble and bumbling servant, from his contract this evening. 

They were going to hurt him. 

It wasn’t my parents’ decision, by my grandfather’s, who if you ever believed my parents were strict and traditional, you’ve never seen him in action. Practically senile, my grandfather loathes not only muggles and muggleborns, but halfbloods and low-ranking purebloods as well. My mother swears he was not as blunt and fiery in his youth, but I cannot be so sure.

Jar Jar has gotten a bit clumsier in his growing age as well. We have a whole lot of ‘loyal’ butlers and maids, of course, but Jar Jar has been with my family the longest, dating back shortly after the house elf revolution. He made the unfortunate mistake of spilling a glass of milk on my grandfather’s lap and his punishment was decided. It was to be done later that night in the backyard like he was a rabid animal.

I did not realize such practices even existed, nor that it was impossible for Jar Jar to simply run, since he still owes a significant monetary debt to my family on behalf of his ancestors. He would have died if he’d done so, because unbeknownst to myself, an unbreakable vow had been committed. 

My Father was quite upset too, saying he’d grown to care for him and all the work he’s done since he was a child. It was the closest my father and I have ever come to sharing an emotional moment. Of course, now I can’t seem to hear anything they say regarding the matter without your words ringing through my head, so it was a bit muddled by the fact that he was more focused on losing out on Jar Jar’s service than on Jar Jar. He was also quite sloshed.

I could stand it no longer and I could simply not allow this sort of act to occur. They could have killed him if I’d heard correctly the sort of punishment method they were going to implement. I’ll spare you the details, but they were quite gruesome. 

So, I crept upstairs, grabbed the savings I’d been holding onto beneath my bed,  and I handed it over through a door that was merely cracked open enough to fit my hand through. I’m not even sure if Jar Jar knew it was me. All I knew was that Jar Jar was gone when they opened it later to retrieve him and we were all surprised.

Again, writing this down and admitting to it might be foolish, but while I might have committed a grand piece of treason from the shadows, I have never felt more relieved.

Best,

Obi-Wan

 Dear Ben,

Yes, recording the very stunt you are trying to maintain a secret is not the most logical way to keep it under wraps, but I am ever elated to hear that you did it anyway. I’m sorry to hear that Jar Jar was to be harmed at all- let alone for something so mundane and that he didn’t get to achieve freedom until late in life. Who’s to say if he’s truly free right now anyway, as you have pointed out before. However, I will say, he is certainly better off being far away from your grandfather, who cannot harm him anymore.

That does not, of course, take away from the bravery of your actions. I find myself apologizing not once, but twice in this letter, because I do owe you one for ever insinuating that you would be actively in support of cruelty. It is not your way and I should know that by now. Sometimes, I’m a bit too rigid for my own good and I’ll admit to that firsthand. I worry that your need to confirm this with me was simply because you feel as though I think ill of you.

This is not the case. I know I was brash and reactive the first time we discussed this, but while I try to empathize, you must do the same to me. I grew up in a world where this sort of nonsense only existed in history books rather than being an ongoing debate. What concerns me most about the wizarding world is that it refuses to evolve. Not only technologically speaking, but on a humanitarian level.

As always, please keep me updated. I fear not only for the safety of this recently liberated indentured servant, but for you, because I understand you stuck your neck out for him and I admire you for it.

Best regards,

Satine

  Fourth Year- Summer

Dear Satine,

I can already tell that summer is going to be brutal around here. While the climate has been tolerable, my father insists on around the clock quidditch practice. It seems my ‘lucky’ catch in second year was not enough to fully establish their faith in me. I can’t say I blame them. I’m indisputably the worst player on the team. Ever since Ventress caught the snitch for Slytherin and took the cup this year, it’s just about all they can talk about.

I actually don’t mind playing quidditch with my father. He’s very passionate about the sport or moreover, being the best at it. My father was captains of the Slytherin team his 6th and 7th year at Hogwarts. Evidently, he was an unstoppable force. I know they’ve always wished that for me, for that feeling of pure satisfaction at one’s job well done, but I am not the athlete he used to be.

Speaking of Ventress, they keep bringing her around more often than not. She’s still as pleasant as ever, if you’re wondering, and actually mentioned you the other day. She’s still cross about your beating her in wizard’s chess. She hasn’t said as much, but I can tell. I’ve got plenty of practice with deciphering young women that project their annoyance onto me. I can thank you for honing that special skill of mine.

How is your family? It’s to my understanding that your sister is not participating in summer camp this year. I know you saw her at Christmas, but you mentioned that you hadn’t truly spoken due to being so distracted from festivities. I know that you do not enjoy talking about it so if you do not want to, please do not feel obligated. I understand better than many the complications of the families we have to love. It makes us question our sanity sometimes.

Best,

Obi-Wan

 Dear Ben,

You must truly be miserable to be writing to me first this summer. Usually, I have to pry letters from your hands if I want to hear about the whereabouts of your family. Now that you’ve turned the tables on me, I can understand why you are less than forthcoming.

Bo being around certainly is odd when it never used to be. I’ve only been at Hogwarts for almost four years. Why does that feel like a millennium? She’s taken great care to be away every summer in its entirety for camp, but this year the camp had been closed. My mother says she’s furious, but I suspect that’s because she doesn’t have an entirely different setting to run off to. I suppose I can’t judge too heavily, but I usually do enjoy my time at home. Seeing my mother and my brother is always refreshing and warm. I don’t want to set the impression that I don’t love my sister, because I do. She’s just… difficult. She doesn’t understand or like the concept of magic. Where my mum and my brother see an amazing new opportunity for me, Bo sees absurdity and refuses to open her mind.

If I can be honest with you, and you’ve certainly proved thus far that I can, I suspect she may be a little jealous. It would not be out of character for her to project her own disdain towards me. 

Explaining any more deeply than that would be migraine-inducing for the both of us. I assure you my familial drama does not run as deep as yours, try as you might to downplay your situation. Before you object, I know you care for your family and wish for them to be happy. Of course I respect that. Maybe because I would give just about anything for Bo to be happy too. Within reason. She’s a bit fixated on these violent video games and I assure you I would not be leaning into that lifestyle for the happiness of a twelve year old.

As for your playdates with Ventress, do try and put some distance between yourselves. I wouldn’t want you to catch anything contagious. You tend to sit awful close to Cody and I at lunch.

Best of Luck,

Satine

 Fourth Year- Winter

Dear Ben,

I can’t believe we are officially halfway through our time at Hogwarts. It’s silly to think about when we’ve got so much ahead of us, but for some reason this evening, shortly after I got off the train, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Now, here I am, losing sleep like an imbecile despite the fact that I’ve got plenty of time to consider the future. It doesn’t help that they’re already priming us for OWLS and eventually NEWTS shortly thereafter. It feels like just yesterday I’d held a wand for the first time. I’ve never been the same since, of course, but I also don’t feel all that different at the very core.

Well, I certainly don’t despise you anymore and that’s a difference. You’re going to tease me for being soft, but it’s 2 in the morning and the only part of me that is working to quell my anxieties is the realization that the passing of time has only strengthened my knowledge, resolve, and friendships. Not to mention my overall strength in general. At the end of this year, they’ll be announcing who the incoming prefects will be. Naturally, you’ll be amongst them by status and grades alone. I hope to be among that lot. You can’t possibly run the careful ecosystem of law enforcement without me. You’re far too nice.

Maybe you won’t be teasing me for going soft then…

I kid. You’re brilliant and Hogwarts would be lucky to have you. Your family is lucky to have you. I’m (And Cody, of course) very lucky as well. Do not make me say it again, but I will if I must. Sometimes, you need to be reminded of your positive light in people’s lives more than once and I suppose that's what friends are for.

I wish I had a more intellectual debate to pick your brain for at this moment, but in reality, I just wanted you to know that as we stand at the halfway point of our Hogwarts careers, I wouldn’t change a second of it.

Yours,

Satine

 Dear Satine,

I’m missing the part where I was supposed to be making fun of you. I do wonder what brought this on, but then again, I find myself in a panic over the passage of time more often than not lately. I truly need to start learning to live rather than survive, because otherwise, I’m going to miss a lot of valuable moments. That’s what Professor Qui-Gon says anyway. I will not miss this one, though, because I am going to save and highlight the portion where you called me brilliant. Just for reference.

I would tac it to the wall, but that might draw some unwanted questioning.

I simultaneously can and cannot believe we are at the midway point of being in school. Look at how far we’ve come! I mean this in the most gracious way possible, but I feel as though I’ve known you all of my life. I don't even want to imagine what I would have been like if you hadn’t shoved all that dessert in my face during first year. Most likely a lot skinnier, which yes, I know that’s still saying a whole lot considering Tarkin refuses to call me anything other than “broomstick”. I’d be more insulted if he wasn’t going gray at 16. It’s quite a pity.

But truly, you’re the reason I didn’t starve and I’ll never forget that.

Ease your thoughts, my friend, because the future for you is bright and limitless. You’ll rise beyond Hogwarts in whichever world you so choose- muggle, magic or both. I believe I speak for Cody as well when I say we have great faith in you.

Truly,

Obi-Wan

[tinyshe]

The chapel veil was the custom of all Catholic churches (eastern and western), everywhere in the world (including English-speaking nations) for nearly 2,000 years.  The custom only fell out of use among western Catholic women, particularly in English-speaking nations, in just the last 30-40 years.  Why is that?

A movement was introduced to western culture at around the same time that explains a lot of it.  The movement was called feminism.  Like most social movements born in the 1960s, some good did come out of it.  But at the same time, some not-so-good things came out of it.  On the positive side, feminism pushed for equality for women in the workplace and in government.  On the negative side, feminism saddled women with burdens they never bargained for, and in some ways made their struggle worse than it was before.  The long term effects of feminism (positive and negative) will be debated for decades to come, and that is not the purpose of this article.  So for now, we'll leave the sociology to the sociologists.

What concerns us is feminism's effect on Catholic women in western cultures, particularly those in English-speaking nations.  The most noticeable effect in such nations was the rapid disappearance of the chapel veil from mass.  Almost overnight the veil was gone.  This was accompanied by the release of the new Code of Canon Law in 1983, which no longer mentioned chapel veils.  Since the new Code of Canon Law abrogated the older code, it was assumed by many that the custom of veiling was also abrogated, simply because it was no longer mentioned.   That combined with feminist influences on Catholic women in western nations led to the popular misconception that veiling is now optional, and women are no longer required to do it.  As a result, it came to be the norm for older traditional women to keep wearing the veil, while younger Catholic women discarded it completely.

The feminist transformation of western Catholic women was accomplished mainly though propaganda.  It was propaganda that fit the feminist mindset very well, but actually mischaracterized and falsely represented the Catholic mindset.  Women were told that the veil represented male oppression, and that a male controlled Catholic Church sought to dominate women by forcing their subjection through the symbolic act of veiling while in Church.  (Now none of this is true, and if it were, yours truly would be against the chapel veil as well.)  The tide of feminism was overwhelming in western culture, particularly in English-speaking nations, and as a result most Catholic women simply accepted this propaganda as truth without ever questioning it.  Thirty years have gone by, and one can easily find Catholic women who still accept the propaganda without question, having never even heard a rebuttal.

It would appear the Vatican listened to the feminist movement, and did find a potential problem in the Code of Canon Law that could be made as a case to bolster the erroneous feminist argument.  It was possibly for this reason the Vatican dropped the chapel veil requirement from the Code of Canon Law.  Under the old Code of Canon Law, women could theoretically be forced under penalty to wear a chapel veil against their will.  The problem with this was twofold.  First, this canon could be used as a case to bolster the erroneous feminist argument against the chapel veil.  Second, this canon actually defeated the authentic Catholic reason for veiling in the first place.

The authentic Catholic reason for wearing the chapel veil is the Biblical reason.  It's just something that all Christian women (regardless of denomination) are supposed to do, not because they have to, but because they're supposed to want to.  The Catholic Church has decided to no longer enforce this Biblical custom through Canon Law, and in doing so, the Church is saying it does not want to be our nanny.  The chapel veil is a custom for women to do voluntarily, because they want to, not because they are being forced to.  The idea is that women are to read what the Scriptures have to say, and be convicted according to what is contained therein.  In order for a chapel veil to be an authentic sign of humility and holiness, it must be voluntary.  Indeed, Christian women are supposed to wear one, but it is never to be forced.

The Scriptural case for the chapel veil...

1st Corinthians 11:2-16 I commend you because you remember me in everything and maintain the traditions even as I have delivered them to you...

The tradition of the chapel veil comes from Christ, by way of the Holy Spirit, through St. Paul, for Paul mentions later in this same epistle:

"What I am writing to you is a command of the Lord.  If any one does not recognize this, he is not recognized."

- 1st Corinthians 14:37-38  St. Paul commends the Corinthians for keeping the chapel veil tradition, among other traditions, and then he continues in chapter 11...

....But I want you to understand that the head of every man is Christ, the head of a woman is her husband, and the head of Christ is God...

Here we have the central point of misunderstanding.  This verse has been misused time and time again as a means of male superiority.  Not only is this a misreading of the text, but it completely misses an important theological point Paul is trying to make.  This chapter of Corinthians is entirely Eucharistic, in the sense that it centers around the Eucharistic celebration (or the mass).  The following verses (17-34) deal entirely with the celebration of Holy Communion.  When Paul says the head of every man is Christ, what he's saying is that Christ came in the form of a man.  He's making a statement about the incarnation.   He's saying that Christ came in human form, and because of this, the man becomes a physical representation of Christ -- particularly if he is a husband.  When he says the head of every woman is her husband, he is not saying that women are inferior to men in any way.  What he's saying is that if a husband becomes the physical representation of Christ's incarnation, than his wife becomes the physical representation of Christ's spouse -- or the Church. When Paul says "husband" here, he is referring both to earthly husbands, and to Christ himself.  That being the case, wives take on the symbolic role of the Church.  Paul continues in chapter 11...

...Any man who prays or prophesies with his head covered dishonors his head, but any woman who prays or prophesies with her head unveiled dishonors her head...

Again, this goes straight back to the incarnation.  All of this is a symbol of what we Catholic Christians believe about Christ, his incarnation, and the Eucharist.  Paul tells us that if a man covers his head during mass, he dishonors his spiritual "head" which is Christ.  In other words, a man who covers his head during mass dishonors Christ, because his action of veiling himself sends the physical statement that Christ was not incarnate as a man.   The woman, on the other hand, representing the Church, ought to cover her head because if she believes that Christ is truly incarnate, she should veil herself as a sign that the Church has been made holy by Christ as his spouse. In doing so she honors Christ as a symbol of his sanctification on the Church.  She also honors her husband with a physical sign that he represents Christ, because Christ came in the form of a man.  The chapel veil is a sign of holiness because Christ has made his Church holy, and women represent the Church as the "bride" of Christ.  It is a sign that the Church is covered and under Christ's protection.  This is the symbolism of the Church's relationship to Christ. It is not so much a statement of a particular woman's holiness, but rather the Church's holiness.  Paul continues...

-- it is the same as if her head were shaven. For if a woman will not veil herself, then she should cut off her hair; but if it is disgraceful for a woman to be shorn or shaven, let her wear a veil...

Here Paul is really laying it on think, and he has good reason.  He's trying to convey a big theological point.  Customs in the church are not the result of random happenstance.  These things exist for a reason. Under the Old Covenant, both Jewish men and women covered their heads during worship, but the early Jewish Christians changed that custom for a reason.  They wanted to make this practice of veiling a symbol of Christ's incarnation, like they did with so many other Jewish traditions, and as Paul mentions in chapter 14 (cited above) these things are not trivial man-made customs, they came from the Holy Spirit Himself.  Here Paul is telling us that it is shameful for a Christian woman not to cover her head during mass, and he is using an illustration from antiquity that has to do with punishment.  In ancient times, women would have their heads shaved publicly as punishment for lack of modesty.  It was a form of public humiliation.  Here Paul is not advocating the shaving of a woman's head for refusing to wear the chapel veil, but rather, he is trying to convey the seriousness of the imagery.  When a Christian woman refuses to do this, she is in effect saying (though perhaps not intentionally) that Christ was not incarnate in the form of a man.  Granted, in modern times this is almost certainly not the intention of any woman who refuses to veil during mass, but what Paul is telling us here is that every custom in the Church has meaning, and because of that, failure to keep those customs also has meaning, whether one intends to convey that meaning or not.  It's sort of like bowing, kneeling or genuflecting before the Eucharist for example.  Catholics do these things in mass for a reason, and that reason is to stress the real presence of Christ in the blessed sacrament.  In practice, we are bowing, kneeling and genuflecting before our God and King, whom we profess to be really and truly present in the sacrament of the Holy Eucharist.  That being the case, if one fails to bow, kneel and genuflect, what kind of signal does that send to those around him/her?  One may not intend to send any signals of disrespect, but invariably one can, whether one intends to or not.  The custom of the chapel veil has similar significance.  Paul continues....

...For a man ought not to cover his head, since he is the image and glory of God; but woman is the glory of man. (For man was not made from woman, but woman from man. Neither was man created for woman, but woman for man.)  That is why a woman ought to have a veil on her head, because of the angels....

Here we have another commonly abused passage.  Again, Paul is not trying to bolster male dominance here.  Remember, we have to keep the context of this chapter in mind, and the context of 1st Corinthians 11 is the Eucharistic celebration.  Paul calls man the "image and glory of God" for one reason and one reason only -- because Jesus Christ (who is God) was made incarnate as a man.  Then he expounds on this by pointing out that the woman is the "glory of man" (or mankind).  This is meant to be a complement.  Of the two human genders, women are far more "glorious" then men in their appearance, beauty, voice, fashion and general gracefulness. The hair was considered a woman's crowing glory in Biblical times (Song of Songs 6:5).  Beyond that, women bear the special gift of motherhood.  In that, God touches them in a way no man has ever experienced.  The Scriptures tell us that God Himself fashions the unborn child in the womb, and plants a living human soul inside the body of a women when she becomes pregnant (Psalm 139:13-16).  In this way, God touches the body of a woman in a way he never touches a man's body. This makes the woman's body a sacred vessel of God's creative powers.   It is something that is particularly holy, and must be respected as such. It is no wonder why women are called the "fairer sex."  Paul is agreeing with that here. However, Paul is also reminding women not to get too prideful.  He reminds them of the Biblical story of Adam and Eve, where the woman is made to complement the man, and not vice versa.  Now we learn that the chapel veil is also a sign of personal humility in addition to the Church's holiness. The woman not only covers her head as a sign of her belief in a incarnation, not only to show how Christ has made his Church holy, but also to cover her "glory," as a sign of humility to show that she is not vain or overly proud of her womanhood and beauty.  The veil or headcovering is a symbol of the woman's acceptance of her role in society, the family, and the Church, in accordance with God's will. It is an imitation of the Virgin Mary, who wore such a headcovering.

Then St. Paul says something very curious.  He says the woman ought to veil her head during mass "because of the angels."  Paul tells us that the angels participate with us during mass, and this is reinforced by the writings of St. John:

"And another angel came and stood before the altar, having a golden censer; and there was given to him much incense that he might offer it with the prayers of all the saints upon the golden altar which is before the throne."

(Revelation 8:3, see also Matt. 18:10).   The angels watch everything that is going on during mass, as they participate in the same liturgy we do.  They are also well aware of the customs of the Church and what they mean -- even the custom of veiling.  Angels are offended when we ignore or refuse to follow any liturgical custom, whether it be failing to kneel or veil in the presence of our Eucharistic Lord.

...(Nevertheless, in the Lord woman is not independent of man nor man of woman; for as woman was made from man, so man is now born of woman. And all things are from God.)...

If ever there was a verse to counter the abuse of male dominance, this is it.  If ever there was a verse to prove that St. Paul was not a male chauvinist, this is it.   Paul follows his previous verse, reminding women to be humble, with this verse, reminding men to be humble too.  He doesn't want the men to use what he just wrote as a means of beating down the women in a form of male superiority.  He is reminding the men that they are not superior to the women, but rather fully dependent on them, and that both genders come from God.  One cannot be "better" than the other.  Then he continues with some rhetorical questions to back his point...

...Judge for yourselves; is it proper for a woman to pray to God with her head uncovered?  Does not nature itself teach you that for a man to wear long hair is degrading to him, but if a woman has long hair, it is her pride? For her hair is given to her for a covering....

Paul is not prohibiting hair styles here.  To focus on hair styles is to miss the point.  Paul is simply asking a few rhetorical questions based on popular culture.  In most cultures women have longer hair then men, and when they do, it usually looks better.  He's saying that when a woman has long hair it usually looks beautiful, and when a man has long hair, it usually looks a little odd.  In some cultures, long hair is considered a sign of femininity.  So if a man has long hair, it looks feminine in those cultures, and that is "degrading" to him.  What Paul is doing here is he's appealing to nature.  He's saying; "Look, even mother nature teaches us the same lesson.  She gives women long hair as a covering and it looks good and proper on them."  Then he concludes with this interesting verse...

...If any one is disposed to be contentious, we recognize no other practice, nor do the churches of God.

Some Bible versions have mistranslated this verse to say

"we recognize no such practice, nor do the churches of God."

 This mistranslation is often used to negate the previous first half of the chapter.  In other words, those who abuse such mistranslations say that Paul spent half a chapter, explaining a deep theological principle pertaining to a custom he applauds the Corinthians for keeping, only to say in this last verse that they really don't need to keep it.  Such interpretations are silliness.  The proper translation is rendered here as

"we recognize no other practice."

 Here Paul is telling the Corinthians not to get too contentious over the chapel veil custom, because he's not going to burden them with anything else beyond that.   He's not going to tell men and women how to dress.  He's not going to tell them what kind of a veil they should wear, or how they should wear it.  He's simply saying that this is the custom as it is practiced in the "churches of God" and they recognize no other practice beyond this.

So the chapel veil has nothing to do with male dominance.  It has nothing to do with subjecting women under male authority.  It has everything to do with Christ's incarnation, and the real presence of our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament.

The Bible is very clear about this.  Women are supposed to veil in the presence of the Eucharist and in prayer, but at the same time, they are to take it upon themselves to do it.  They are not to be forced into it by men, nor coerced into it by the Canon Law of the Church.  Coercion actually defeats the whole purpose of veiling.  (Which may be one reason why the custom of the veil has no place in canon law.)  It has to be voluntary, if it is truly to be a sign of holiness and humility.  This is why the Church removed it from Canon Law.  It was not to send a signal to women that they need not do it anymore.  Rather, it was to tell women that when they veil themselves, it is not because men told them to.  It is a sign and symbol coming from them, voluntarily, not as a grudging requirement against their will.

Furthermore, the chapel veil is a sign of the incarnation, illustrated in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament.  Women are supposed to veil in the presence of the Sacrament and in prayer before God.  They are not veiling in the presence of men, nor has the tradition of the Church ever required this.  The feminist propaganda was wrong.  If the chapel veil were a sign of male dominance, than it would have been required in the presence of men, but it is not.  Nowhere in Church history, Canon Law, or the Bible, are women required to veil in the presence of men.  They are only expected to veil in the presence of our Lord.

Though the custom has generally lapsed in western cultures, particularly English-speaking nations, it is not erased entirely from the conscience of western Christians.  For example; what's the first thing a Catholic mom does when her daughter is preparing for first communion and confirmation?  She goes out and buys a veil.  Likewise, what's one of the most important accessories to a bridal gown?  Why it's the veil of course!  Finally, when a baseball game or community event is opened in prayer, regardless of the religious denominations of those in attendance, what's the first thing everybody does?  The men all remove their hats, and the women do not.  Funny how that works, isn't it.  This doesn't just happen by accident.  It all goes back to the ancient Christian custom of veiling.

Yes, Christian women are supposed to veil during worship, and this is especially true for Catholic women who understand the incarnation of Christ and His real presence in the Blessed Sacrament. According to the Bible, this is not optional.  All Christian women are expected to do it, but it is to be done voluntarily, without force or coercion.  The custom was removed from the Canon Law of the Catholic Church, but it was never abrogated as a Biblical custom of the Faith.  To veil properly, women must do so voluntarily, and they must do so with proper understanding of the custom and what it means.  Hopefully this article has been helpful in this.

this was snipped from this blog [archived]

[okay-victoria]

Writing Dialogue

While some choices in dialogue will come down to style preference, most fanfic dialogue suffers from a much earlier problem of being done incorrectly, no matter what the stylistic preference. Once basic spelling & grammar is mastered, and assuming the fic contains more than a handful of dialogue, I think bad dialogue is the thing that kills my enjoyment the fastest. I can handwave plotholes and understand emotions that weren’t conveyed right, but I can’t read people having a conversation that doesn’t look anything like an actual human conversation.

Problem 1: Too Much Drama

We want our scenes to pulse with energy! Of course we want the dialogue to be dramatic! The problem here is, what makes for good dramatic dialogue is not people yelling powerful words at each other very passionately. What makes for dramatic dialogue is mostly the importance of that scene to the plot & the characters, so to achieve dramatic dialogue, the best thing you can do is not overly rely on the dialogue itself to be dramatic. Set up a dramatic situation, and then people don’t have to yell. They can say a few basic sentences and the audience already knows why it is important and why the characters care so much.

Have you ever seen the scene in The Room where Tommy Wiseau yells “You’re tearing me apart, Lisa!” Did you actually find that dramatic or did it just make you laugh because it was overdramatized? That’s what dramatic dialogue does to a story. Unless your characters are middle schoolers exclaiming it out in the hall between classes, chances are, older and more mature characters aren’t going to do a lot of yelling or make weirdly dramatic statements like the world is ending.

One of the biggest offenses on this count is overusing exclamation points and overusing emphasis. Exclamation points should be used very, very rarely, as should telling your reader what words are meant to be emphasized. Your character’s mood should primarily come through action - are they slamming doors, pacing back and forth, collapsing into a chair? Dialogue tags like “shouted” or “replied angrily” can be used to help, but should not stand on their own as the only thing portraying mood.

Instead of looking like this: “OMG! Can you believe it! Drama! Let me scream all the drama out in a monologue!” Lisa screamed, it should look like *Lisa kicks off her shoes, one leaves a mark on the wall* *Lisa slams bag down on counter, opens fridge for beer* *Lisa’s boyfriend stands frozen, as this is not normally how Lisa comes home from work. “This thing happened.” *Lisa collapses into kitchen chair and sticks head in her hands.* *Lisa’s boyfriend comes to put a hand on her back*. “One sentence reminding reader why Lisa is upset about this”.

Problem 2: Too Little Drama

Alternatively, you get scenes that sometimes look like two college roommates got high and are trying to acquire a pizza with as little effort as possible. Let’s say, for example, you have one character that has a crush on another character, and they are trying to find out information about them. While maybe the character learning this information is going to do something with it, so it’s important to the plot in another way, so the conversation itself does not need to be dramatic, it might end up looking like this:

I met Crush after class and we walked together. “What’s your favorite color?” - “Red” - “Do you like dogs?” - “Yes. Did you do the homework?” - “Yes. Math is my favorite class. How about you?” - “P.E.”

Like with the above, setup and action are everything. If you set up the scene where we know in advance how long it has taken Karen to get up the courage to talk to Chad and things like that, and then include actions in between the dialogue to show that she is nervous and therefore not very talkative, like her glancing up at him briefly but looking away as soon as he makes eye contact, or have her analyze Chad’s mood and wonder if he’s annoyed, etc, the scene can be made much more meaningful without needing to be a “dramatic” scene.

Problem 3: Dialogue is written like exposition

This tends to go unnoticed by some authors who are otherwise decent, and for me really ruins an otherwise decent story. The writing within the dialogue tags is written well, it just isn’t written like dialogue. It is written like exposition/narration.

In exposition: This project was doomed from the beginning. The improvements might look nice on paper, but the law of diminishing returns was going to stop it before it really started. Sounds...not excellent, I just pulled an example out of my ass, but fine.

In dialogue: “I think this project is doomed already,” Bob said, looking around the meeting room. “The improvements might look nice on paper, but the law of diminishing returns is going to stop it before it really starts.”

...sounds like Bob is kind of a psycho, or possibly your most pompous and hated coworker. Who the hell says “Law of Diminishing Returns” out loud if they aren’t a professor? The longer the dialogue and more flowery/technical/big vocab it becomes, which often *adds* to exposition, the worse and more unnatural the dialogue becomes.

Dialogue should not feel the same as the “speech” when a character is thinking. We tend to be fairly limited in how we express ourselves, use shorter and more simple sentence structures, more basic vocabulary, and haven’t memorized what we are going to say, so it doesn’t come out eloquently.

The one real exception to this that isn’t really dialogue, but is speech, is if you have a character making a speech or presentation, which they have prepared for in advance, and it is reasonable for them to give it uninterrupted.

If you want to make a point of one of your characters sounding like a total tool when they speak, you can also do this to achieve that and make it immediately clear to the audience why everyone hates them, but unless that’s what you’re going for, avoid this at all costs.

Problem 4: Dialogue is otherwise unnatural

Always, always, until you’re pretty damn sure you’re pretty damn good at it, say your dialogue out loud.

Would that personally really say “What is that?” or is it “What’s that?” Along the lines of not needing to use emphasis as much as you might think, if you were, say, in Scotland and just saw the Loch Ness monster pop out and want to ask your companion what it is, “What is that?” is fairly unnecessary. “What is that?” suffices. The simple fact that you didn’t use the standard contraction means the character emphasized the “is”. If you just see a piece of mail on someone’s desk that you are curious about, you’re going to say “What’s that?” and it won’t sound like you are dramatically asking about a generic piece of mail.

There are lots of very minor and small things that can easily go wrong in dialogue of this nature. It’s really important to say to yourself: if I was in this situation, how would I say it? Read it like you are acting it out in a movie and see. Also, question if a person would even say a sentence like that to begin with, or if they would be more or less direct in their approach. More direct is appropriate in many cases because people are usually trying to communicate clearly. Even if they are lying, they usually just say a direct statement that is a lie, they don’t dance around it indirectly and give hints to the other character. More indirect is appropriate when a character is trying to have a difficult conversation - we don’t tend to give tough advice or be directly rude, we try to work around it to make it sound better.

Because people want to have “exciting” or “cool” dialogue, they will often also give characters great rebuttals all the time, where they have these snappy conversations. This *can* work, but it’s really hard to pull off well, so in general I’d limit it to having a character having the occasional good rebuttal than a conversation of back-and-forth snark. Honestly, most of us just can’t think on our feet that well, and unless you’ve built the case that these characters can [ie, they’ve been married 20 years and are having the same arguments over and over so have it all thought out] it just seems very unrealistic.

Problem 5: Underutilizing dialogue tags

If you have two characters speaking, theoretically, if we know who the first speaker is and they switch off, a reader can follow the conversation indefinitely and know who is speaking.

In practice, that doesn’t happen. We like to be occasionally reminded. Personally, I try to max out at four consecutive lines of untagged speech, so no more than:

“Hey” said Kyle when he saw Brad.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Partying, bro, what did you think?”

“Haha, true. Do you think Lindsey will be there?”

“Man, you have such a crush on her,” Brad laughed.

Problem 6: Overusing dialogue tags

Conversely, in a conversation that is easy to follow, every single line does not need to be followed by a variation of “X person said”. If you are going for a tight back and forth conversation where neither character is thinking in between, you want to gum it up as little as possible with extraneous non-conversation. Hit us with occasional dialogue tags, and that’s it.

Problem 7: Not breaking dialogue up

This is somewhat of a style question, but in general, conversations should only be quick back and forth when that’s the point, but otherwise should generally pause briefly to “show” people doing actions, give some character thoughts, or otherwise break it up so the entire scene isn’t just a conversation.

Also, you can use these pauses as a way of showing hesitation/actual pauses that happen in the conversation.

Problem 8: Huge breaks between dialogue

This is something I am probably the *most* guilty of myself, because I’m writing a story where characters analyze the other characters a lot, so sometimes they’ll pause and think for a while in between. I haven’t quite arrived at the level where I’ve figured out how to get that all to flow in a way that breaks the dialogue up nicely, but not so much it is jarring and you’ve forgotten what the last thing a character said was.

But, anyway, definitely something to keep in mind. While a scene shouldn’t usually be all conversation, breaking the conversation up too much makes it feel like it isn’t a conversation at all.

[liskantope]

Hopefully this will be my last-ever post complaining about what someone said on social media, because current events are simmering down and once they’ve reached a moderate enough hum I’m going to redouble my previous efforts to stay away from it. But the particular interaction I’m going to describe seems to have furthered my progress slightly in understanding why so many people shout their views in the way that they do and how I should learn to better accept it.

One of my “closest” Facebook friends for over a decade, whose life’s passion nowadays revolves around anti-racist work (mainly in childhood education; she is white) posted a few hours after Biden’s victory was officially called last Saturday to preach that white Biden-voters shouldn’t claim any of the credit for his victory because it was BIPOC and particularly black women who carried this election (her justification for why they “carried us” was that as a demographic group most of them voted for Biden while as a demographic group a majority of white people voted for Trump), and that nothing will be better now except for who is in the White House because “whiteness and white supremacy have not disappeared” and that “your” responsibility is not diminished and “you” are not absolved as a good white person. She ended with an exhortation to bow down and “bend your knees” to BIPOC for “saving our asses”.

(Just realized looking back at her post to write this one that the phrasing was not “bend the knee” as I repeatedly misread at the time, assuming that it was a direct reference to Game of Thrones of which I know she’s a fan, and having recently listened to this insightful 8-minute Sam Harris podcast episode which used the phrase. This is slightly unfortunate since it was the obnoxiousness of that particular phrasing which tipped me over to acting against my better judgment in not just ignoring this like I have with so many dozens of other statements. I still find it obnoxious, though, and sanctimonious, and terrible messaging, and using poor arguments about causation, and reflecting an insistence on viewing as much as possible in terms of race at all times, and the epitome of identity politics.)

So yeah, after waiting a couple of days, I broke my usual silence and wrote a very polite but argumentative response that turned out to be enough paragraphs to make me feel a little embarrassed that I would take that much of my time on it. I knew there was virtually no chance of convincing her of anything substantial, but I figured just maybe some insight into how foreign and alienating this “you are responsible for what everyone of your color does and are never good enough and have to kneel in deference to those of a color which is” messaging is bound to be to anyone who’s less in an academic bubble than we are (which is, like, most people). I made the point that individual BIPOC didn’t contribute any more than individual white people did to Biden’s victory and that if we’re going to judge blocs of voters according to race we should be blaming Cuban-Americans for Biden’s loss in Florida, and that in fact Trump gained votes from among BIPOC and lost white male votes since four years ago. I wrote that implying that the only salient feature of us individuals is race is exactly what people complain about when they use the term “identity politics” and that the results of this election suggest that maybe we’re doing something wrong with our messaging.

It wasn’t a disaster. I got a very cordial response which completely avoided ad hominem and at least engaged the points I had made while clarifying her views. I didn’t find the supposed rebuttals of my points at all convincing, of course. For instance, my complaint about treating individual voters as merely people of a certain color was met with “It’s important in anti-racist scholarship to be able to analyze demographic trends in terms of race” (I would... never disagree with this?) and that focusing on individuals allows people to only look at their own actions and those of their friends and feel too good about themselves. She also expressed skepticism about my statistics about where Trump gained/lost support, which I was able to back up with a quick Google search which pulled up a Vox article among others (I thought it was only the insufficiently committed white liberals like me who sucked at Googling?). But her own views, while still resting on axioms I fundamentally differ on, just sounded a lot more reasonable when restated? E.g. “Moments like this shouldn’t be centered on whiteness” and “the ‘good white liberals’ should be aware that they aren’t as a big of a demographic in our race as they should be” (I don’t know any white liberal who would disagree or who doesn’t realize that white people vote majority Republican or is okay with that?) and that the bowing and bending the knee was not “a literal statement” but simply meant to convey that we should greatly respect how BIPOC voters contribute. She ended with providing a long list of anti-racist activists (the only one of whom I’m familiar with is Ally Henny, who I mainly remember for statements about how I’m encased in so many layers of racism that I would never be able to peel them off if I spent my whole lifetime doing nothing but trying) as a “starting point” of study.

I replied thanking her for pointing me to sources and agreeing with her implication that I should read more with a mind towards understanding what they’re saying before spouting off any more opinions. (Guess I have to make good on that promise now.) I made clear that I see a difference between her restatements and the way she worded things in her original post and suggested that some of this might even be on me for interpreting these kinds of posts more as logical arguments when they should be understood in a slightly more poetic manner. I gently gestured towards my suspicion that the current scholarship in this area might reflect a university culture (which I am very much a part of) more than the concrete priorities and concerns of the majority of people of color, although I’m in no position to positively claim anything about this. I got no response.

Anyway, in writing my last response, a little more clicked into place for me about a different lens through which I should process all the behavior that drives me nuts in a written context online (I mainly mean social media but am being even broader than that). This is going to sound condescending but ironically it might help me to have a less condescending attitude?

The fact is -- and I just have to accept this -- that making efforts to be nuanced and to “meet people who disagree where they are at” and to aim for the truth but no farther than the truth are simply not highly-valued principles for most people (social media -users and otherwise). They may kinda-sorta agree in the abstract with these principles, but in practice they hold a much lower status than the principles of conveying anger and strong words as a sign of commitment towards Fighting Evil. Some people I know do have an “argumentation value system” closer to mine, and I know who those people are -- it really shows in what they write online. But those people are a fairly small minority.

And this alien “argumentation value system” isn’t something that really shows in casual real-life interactions very plainly at all (which of course is what almost all human interactions were up until 10-15 years ago), while in contrast social media is an environment that augments its effect.

The sooner I accept this, the more moderation I’ll be able to manage in my negative reactions. I can remind myself that there’s less fundamental disagreement on most actual issues between me and the people I know: we instead disagree on a sort of meta-level issue of how one’s views should be presented. And that issue, taken by itself, seems somehow like something more minor. I wrote a few months ago about how knowing what so many people in my life write publicly oftentimes interferes with my capacity to view them as potential intimate friends/partners. Maybe I can be a little more accepting when I recognize that the things they write which turn me off perhaps don’t come from a place of such irrationality as I thought, that the differences in our ways of thinking might not be quite so fundamental (although this differing system of values for argumentation still strikes me as something that could badly affect a marriage, say). And in the practical short term, I can ignore things that bother me more easily in the future -- instead of feeling like I’m on a tilted playing field where everyone else gets to vent without inhibition while I have to carefully monitor and qualify everything I say, I can try to just round a lot of this off in terms of different preferred writing styles and somehow that bothers me less?

A similar underlying principle holds for the things that annoy me on dating profiles, what with the collective obsession with dogs and boasts of being “fluent in sarcasm” and so on. This probably doesn’t reflect much about the way the creators of these profiles actually are as humans in real life. Not that many single women really view their dogs as the most interesting thing that ever was or will be about their lives. They just choose to have a certain style of exposition about themselves because of peculiarities of the environment of online dating sites/apps, where showing enthusiasm and individuality in some way seems to pay and the topic of dogs would seem like a pretty safe place to direct this performed enthusiasm. Doesn’t mean that it doesn’t demonstrate some aspect of incompatibility with me or that I’m not going to be more instantly attracted to those with profiles that have more refreshing things to say than stuff about how amazing dogs are or of those who *gasp* actually prefer cats or *deeper gasp* prefer not to have pets at all. But it means that I can read the dogs-and-sarcasm-enthusiast profiles a little more charitably maybe?

This slightly altered mindset is a far from perfect solution, but I think it helps. A lasting three-quarters-of-the-way disconnect from social media entirely still needs to be a goal at this point.

[otterskin]

A Rebuttal to a ScreenRant thing on Loki and the Thor films for no reason other than the catharsis similar to shooting at clay pigeons that aren’t even trying to fly

Don’t click on this but here’s the article - https://screenrant.com/mcu-things-make-no-sense-about-loki/

Ah, ScreenRant, my old foe...you hath fallen so far these past few years...time was you were almost legitimate, but once you were sold to new owners, you became a rag of thoughtless clickbait 'journalism', seeing plotholes where there none. Let's dance.

ScreenRant Text: (So you don't have to feed them clicks)

Loki is often considered one of the greatest superhero movie villains of all time due to his never-ending schemes and tricks. As Thor's adopted brother, Loki has always been jealous of the God Of Thunder. His animosity mostly stems from the inheritance of the Asgardian throne.

Loki was denied the throne because he is the biological son of the Frost Giant ruler Laufey. After being abandoned by his father, he was adopted by Thor's father Odin and raised as an Asgardian prince. While Loki's never-ending deviousness makes for great entertainment, there are a couple of things about him that make no sense.

We begin with a Bonus Round! Loki is considered one of the greatest superhero movie villains of all time for various reasons, but the 'never-ending schemes and tricks' thing is a little...lackluster. It's not exactly what I'd say made himso successful, nor is it particularly true, but this is a matter of opinion. I'll let it slide. This, however:

His animosity mostly stems from the inheritance of the Asgardian throne.

Untrue. Thor 1 even has him state explicitly that the throne was never an objective of his, which is something I liked very much about the character and that film. It didn't go for the boring, stereotypical, low-hanging fruit, but actually tried to give the character a bit of humanity and zigged when most characters of that ilk zagged. That's the actual reason people like Loki, IMO. He surprised people by being - gasp - interesting. His animosity comes from a variety of things, but to simplify, if I may get schmaltzy, it comes from his fear of rejection and abandonment, and of being seen as less-than.

Loki was denied the throne because he is the biological son of the Frost Giant ruler Laufey.

We are never told why he was 'denied the throne'. We can guess. We assume this is the case, but it also seems like a) as the elder son, Thor was always first to inherit and b) When Odin promised that both his sons would be kings, it seems likely that at one point he intended to install Loki as king of Jotunheim, but then changed his mind. However c) it's mentioned clearly in an older scene in the script that Odin and Frigga had hoped that while Thor was officially king, that Loki would essentially be sharing many of his duties and would wield substantial power. 

I won't say this is 'wrong'. Loki, after all, claims it as the reason Odin didn't choose him as his successor. He may have been right. But we don't know that. Ambiguity is part of what makes films interesting, but apparently nerd media can never have a 'maybe' for an answer, sigh. This is a bigger problem than ScreenRant, so I'll let it go.

After being abandoned by his father, he was adopted by Thor's father Odin and raised as an Asgardian prince.

...this is what Odin said, immediately after Laufey tells us that Odin is a 'liar and a thief'....and then is proven right. Again, it's possible this is true, but we're also given reason to doubt Odin, and it's also possible Odin thinks he's telling the truth but is...wrong! Which he is about many things. It's something that makes him an interesting character. Ambiguity and interpretation. It's what makes you think about something long after the movie stops playing.

While I'm already disagreeing with SR here, this is more a fandom-wide problem of taking the text at face value only and reading the most shallow interpretation possible. However, stating that Loki's animosity comes from wanting the throne is in contradiction to what we've seen in the films, or at least a gross oversimplification. I award myself a half-point for that.

Points: 0 SR, 0.5 Otterskin

10. Unrealistic Survival

During the final moments of Thor: The Dark World, Loki became impaled and passed away in the strong arms of loving brother Thor. Dead? Not really. He was back in Thor: Ragnarok. Apparently, that was just one of Loki's holograms and the villain himself was very much okay.

However, recent history in the MCU proves that he holograms cannot be touched. In Thor: Ragnarok, Thor even failed in his attempt to throw a rock at Loki’s hologram. But in the death scene, Thor just happens to be holding him comfortably. And given that rocks go right through a hologram, then any other hologram shouldn't have been stabbed either.

EHHH wrong. Yes, Loki's 'light' magic can't be touched when there's nothing else there. But, as we see also in Thor Ragnarok, it can be touched if Loki is inside it - say, when he's pretending to be Odin. Thor grabs his shoulders and holds him in place after throwing Mjolnir. Great moment. As for that wound....who says Loki wasn't actually injured? After all, the scene was filmed 'for realsies' at the time and a reshoot retconned Loki into surviving later...but that doesn't mean he faked the whole thing. It's also possible that Loki just plain survived, due to some unknown Frost Giant ability that perhaps he didn't even know he had. We've never gotten a clear answer. And yes, keeping up the pretense of his death is still 'faking his death', even if he was really fatally injured. So no contradictions there.

SR - 0, OS - 1.5

9.Poor Attempt At Trying To Kill Thanos

Before he was made to look incompetent by Thanos, Loki was a very intelligent villain. Catching and defeating him wasn't easy, and this was all thanks to his ability to create illusions at will. He used this trick very many times and it always worked.

But when Loki is trying to kill Thanos in Infinity War, the only trick up his sleeve is pretending to pledge loyalty to the Mad Titan with secret intentions of stabbing him with a blade. Of course, Thanos stopped him and killed him. Why didn't Loki use a smarter trick? More importantly, why didn't he use his tried and tested illusion trick?

Hmm. Plenty of people have complained about this, but I never had a problem. For me, the answer is simple: what kind of intelligent is Loki? He's not a mastermind. He's not particularly gifted at tactics. What he's good at is misdirection and manipulation. And, when he does it, it usually has some kind of terrible personal effect. When I saw this scene, I had no problems with it from a character standpoint. Loki is a character who thinks with his emotions and does things based on that, even if they aren't logical. It's his fatal flaw going back to Thor 1 and present in every appearance since. In this case, I think Loki was manipulating Thanos. Manipulating him to kill Loki. Probably because Loki knew that would mean he'd spare Thor. However, this is my interpretation, and you're allowed a different one, SR. We'll just disagree on this one. I leave it to the commenters to decide who gets this point. For now, I'll give us both a 0.5.

SR - 0.5, OS - 2

8His Evolution Into A God

According to the MCU, Loki's parents are the Frost Giants Farbauti and Laufey. Despite his parents not being gods, Loki evolves into the “God of Mischief.” How is this possible, given that he was only adopted by Asgardian parents who were gods, but he himself had no god lineage?

RELATED: 10 Loki Memes Only Real Fans Will Understand

For Thor, his god status is understandable given that his biological father and grandfather are gods. So, can one become a god even when they aren't directly related to any god?

...I don't even know where to start with this. First off, we do not know who Loki's mother is. In fact I don't think it's even in the comics. If you mean the myths, then Laufey is his Mother, not his father, and in many myths Laufey is in fact Às (Asgardian), while Farbauti is his giant Father. He would also have two younger brothers. This is not the case in the MCU. There's some evidence that Loki's mother, whoever she is, is not a jotunn - he has biological features the giants do not, and Sir Kenneth Branagh indicated in the commentary for the movie that he was 'at least part giant', which could mean 'only part'. Eh.

Next...have you not been paying attention? This whole character arc is about Loki finding out he's not 'a god' due to his blood and trying to figure out who he is without that blood. At the end, he embraces his identity and decides for himself to be 'God of Mischief' and 'Odinson' regardless of his bloodstatus, while also, if not exactly coming to terms with his heritage, no longer hiding or rejecting it. Yes, it's about him 'becoming a god' and always having been a god, reaffirming his identity and recontextualizing it.  It's his whole...THING. And in fact, it’s the main thesis of Infinity War. It’s the challenge to Thanos, which he then accepts. Infinity War is Thanos’ ‘God Quest’, in which he endeavours to gain the powers of a deity. However, what being a ‘God’ meant to Loki is being ‘an accepted part of a family’. Thanos destroys his children in his quest to become a god. It’s an interesting contrast between the two ‘villains’.

Geezus, this is just being dense. And for the record, many Norse Gods and Goddesses are also giants, full-blooded and otherwise. Skadi, Goddess of Skiing, is my favourite goddess ever and she’s full giant. Her husband has very handsome and large feet, which is her preferred feature on a man. You know. To walk on snow with.

Two points to me for dealing with this nonsense. And a half a point for Skadi, she always gets you a half point.

SR - 0.5 OS - 4.5

7.Blue Hue

As the son of a Frost Giant, Loki was born with a blue skin tone. When Odin adopted him, he cast a spell that changed his tone from blue to white. However, Loki never seems to have an idea about his true skin color. Given his history of mischief, he has never attempted to change back either.

After, Odin’s spell to keep Hela far from Asgard ended in Thor: Ragnarok, his spell on Loki ought to have ended too. Or perhaps Loki has always been aware that he is blue. If so, then the confusion ought to be cleared up.

You know what? Point to SR for knowing Odin cast a spell on Loki and that Loki is blue (dabadeedabadie). We gotta throw them a bone, and that’s something other people forget or get wrong all the time.

As for the spell not breaking...Dr. Strange said it himself. A dead wizard’s spell is harder to remove. A spell falling apart in the event of the wizard’s death seems like a major design flaw. Can you imagine if other things worked like that? If a test was too hard, you could pass if you killed the teacher? Or if you locked yourself out of your house, all you had to do was track down the locksmith and murder him to destroy every lock he ever made?

I find it highly unlikely Odin would have been foolish enough to create a spell that would have failed upon his death. Hela was being actively contained, and even then she didn’t immediately appear upon Odin’s death. It still took her a minute to break free.

SR - 1.5 OS - 5.5

6Mind-Controlling Hawkeye Instead Of Fury

Loki found himself in the S.H.I.E.L.D. base after using the Tesseract’s portal to transport himself. One of his first tasks involves mind-controlling Hawkeye so that he can use him as security.

He also mind-controls Dr. Selvig to make him create the Chitauri portal.But it's strange that he doesn't mind-control the boss ,Nick Fury. If he had done that, everything he wanted would have been achieved more easily. Fury would have been his puppet and he could have used him to make the Avengers make regrettable decisions.

Honestly if he’d just walked into the UN it would have been easy-peasy, we can go down this rabbit hole until we end up in Oz.  But hey, we’ll give this one to SR, as one of those typical ‘CinemaSins’ things that Alfred Hitchcock would reply ‘because then there’d be no movie’ to.

I would add that this is more Thanos’ plan than Loki’s, though, so we don’t know if that was ever an option the purple man would’ve allowed.

SR - 2.5, OS - 5.5

5Thanos Was Too Lenient Towards Him

Long before they became enemies, Loki and Thanos were associated. One of the instructions that Thanos gave Loki was to get the Tesseract as soon as possible, or else. Yes, there were stipulations from Thanos outlined to Loki by The Other. Loki was promised a kind of pain he'd never known before.

RELATED: 10 Best Recurring Jokes In The MCU

However, Loki wasn't able to deliver the Tesseract for more than six years, and nothing really happened to him. Given how ruthless the Mad Titan is, it's a mystery why he was so lenient towards Loki.

...interesting that being promised untold pain is related to recurring jokes, ha ha...not sure what that’s about.

I dunno, Loki got the most brutal and graphic death in the film, seems pretty un-lenient to me. Not to mention half the people he’d just saved were all slaughtered in front of him, making him responsible for Asgard’s second destruction.

As for why not sooner, Loki was living under an assumed identity for those 6 years as his own father, his death widly publicized as a popular play. I imagine Thanos caught a matinee or something. Let’s just call this a draw.

SR - 2.5, OS - 5.5

4Stopping Agent Coulson

During 

Loki's invasion of Earth

 in

Avengers

, he trapped Thor in a cage, and while he was talking to his brother, Agent Coulson tried to stage a surprise attack. Not so fast Coulson. It appears the God Of Mischief is also the God Of Anticipating. Coulson ended up shooting a hologram instead of the real Loki.But how exactly was Loki able to anticipate Coulson's arrival? Can he see the near future? If such is the case, why didn't he see the attack from Hulk coming? Why didn't he use a hologram during the beatdown that left him in a pretty bad state either?

These are getting weaker, not stronger, as we get to number one. Didn’t expect people to still be reading, huh? Guess I’m the real loser, wasting more time on replying to this than was spent writing it. Oh well.

Chances are Loki turned himself invisible and left a copy in his place before walking behind Coulson. Which he’s done before. Illusions and mind-tricks are his main power.

SR - 2.5, OS - 6.5

3Hatred For Thor

Thor has always cared about Loki, but Loki has always wanted to end his brother. During the events of Thor: Ragnarok, a flashback scene showed Thor and Loki during their childhood days. Apparently, Loki did plenty of bad things to Thor.He once transformed Thor into a frog, while he also transformed himself into a snake to fool Thor into picking him up. Thor loved snakes, so when he tried to pick the reptile, Loki transformed back to himself and stabbed Thor. Why was there so much hatred? According to the first movie, Loki used to love Thor. He only started hating his brother when he found out that Thor was going to be the Asgardian king.

Always wanted to end his brother? Where is that coming from? Because he stabbed him as a kid in Thor’s anecdote in Thor 3? These are Asgardian kids, I expect there to be five stabbings before lunchtime. Kids are practically given daggers as teething toys.

I’m guessing this writer has never been or met a pair of siblings. Why is there so much hatred? Gee, I dunno, maybe because ‘Thor won’t stop hogging the X-Box and it’s my turn, Mum, it is!’ I mean, brothers and sisters do terrible things to each other. They make each other eat dirt and bugs, push each other off the deck, cheat at chess, spit in their hair, hide frogs in their bed, you name it. Now upgrade that to the level of the gods and you got some real fun shenanigans, and several more centuries of time in your childhood to get up to even more mischief.

You can still love someone and turn them into a frog. 

SR - 2.5, OS - 7.5

2Takeover Plan

Still, in the first film, Loki began scheming after finding out that he was adopted and he'd never become king.  The God of Mischief assisted the Frost Giants in gaining entry to Asgard so that he could destroy the Frost Giant King Laufey before he could kill Odin.RELATED:

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Sounds good, but then Thor tried to feud with the Frost Giants too, and this didn't turn out so well for him. In fact, Thor was banished and dispatched to Earth because of this. It is thus strange that Loki thought Odin would like him for doing what Thor had done. Loki also waited for Odin to sleep first before trying to destroy Laufey. Wouldn't it have been better for him to try and do this while Odin was awake?

The order of events is all wrong. Loki did not discover his heritage until they went to Jotunheim, and didn’t hear the whole story until the Vault, at about the halfway point of the film. Yes, the film opens with him secretly helping the giants into Asgard to disrupt Thor’s coronation. He intended to goad Thor into going to the Bifrost to attack Jotunheim, and, as he says later to the W3 and Sif while their wounds are being treated, he hoped they’d be stopped there by Heimdall. However, Heimdall was more prideful than he’d accounted for, and that’s when they went to Jotunheim, which wasn’t the plan. Everything after that point is Loki improvising and reacting - it’s not so much a scheme as a scream, if you know what I mean.

Loki was unexpectedly made interim King while Odin was asleep and Thor banished. That’s a condition depending on Odin’s sleep and Thor’s banishment, either of which could end at any time, as Frigga tells him. She also tells him that Odin can see all of Asgard, even while asleep. Laufey reiterates this right before he tries to kill him. Odin also cries in his sleep, indicating he can perceive his children fighting on the bridge later in the film. Loki is putting on an elaborate play to demonstrate his loyalty to Odin and simultaneously sever his connections to Jotunheim, which he sees as a threat to his bond with Odin. He has room for only one father.

Were you on your phone when you were watching this movie? ...It’s okay if you were, but...man, you’re writing about this film, at least get the sequence of events right. It’s not a particularly complicated film.

I feel like I’m getting mean. Lose half a point for meanness, gain two points for two points made.

SR - 2.5, OS - 9

1Not Teaming Up With Hela

Loki and

Odin’s abandoned daughter Hela

had the same goals, but strangely enough, they didn't team up to make everything go smoothly. Given the kind of unity Loki had seen from the Avengers, he'd have been smarter enough to value teamwork more.When Hela arrived to take the throne and get revenge, Loki ought to have been the first person on her side. Her plan was basically a newer, small-scale version of his own plan in Avengers. Given his nature, it could have been more logical for him to team up with her then destroy her.

Same goals? You don’t mention them, though. I’d say their goals are entirely opposite. We see Loki’s rule contrasted with Hela’s quite clearly in Ragnarok. Loki withdrew Asgard from the other Realms (in my opinion, likely because he only has love for Asgard, and his interest in it and its people). He’s not interested in invading or enslaving or plundering (yes, yes, I know, Avengers, but that film was constantly making it clear that Loki wasn’t enacting his plan, but Thanos’, and he was being baby-sat by the Other to make sure he didn’t forget it. The stone was meant for Thanos, and we also know Loki wasn’t at his best self mentally at that time. He looked like he’d been chewing on coal and his skin had all the healthy pallour of a plastic bag. Compare that to Ragnarok, where he’s much more at ease and less...’my whole world has crashed down upon me’). Loki is like a cat in a sunbeam, happy to soak up praise, adulation, and acceptance from Asgard. Hela also wants those things - she’s upset when people don’t bow to her, that no-one remembers her, and that her cool paintings are gone. However, her solution to this is to kill everyone until she’s left with the people who are loyal to her. Loki’s was to create the play (which is either propaganda or much-needed Loki representation in the media, depending on how you view it), and convince people to like him. Hela demands loyalty, Loki wants love. Very different.

Her goal, of course, is to make Asgard great again, through conquest. Admittedly Loki did do something similar when he tried to flambé Jotunheim in Thor 1, but he did that for personal reasons, while Hela has a policy. Also, Hela wants Thor and Loki dead, and possibly was a large reason why Odin died (likely he was drained from imprisoning her). Loki loves Thor and Odin and does not want them dead; he also does not seem to want to be killed, at least by any hand not his own. There’s also the little problem of him being a frost giant, which Hela would likely not look kindly on (heck, original drafts of that painting depicting Hela conquering show her essentially enslaving the giants and forcing them to help build Asgard.) Hela isn’t looking for an equal partner. Loki wants equality above all else.

So no, no reason to team up.

SR - 2.5, OS - 10/10, a very good girl, here’s an invisible gold star

Aight, that was a great waste of time. But sometimes, you just need to refute every single point of something to feel better.

TL;DR: ScreenRant didn’t watch the movie(s).

[dogbearinggifts]

Protect Vanya. Stop Pretending She’s Innocent.

Because she’s not. 

She’s not innocent. She’s not a sad woobie who is buffeted about by larger and larger acts of cruelty until she inevitably snaps. She’s not the only blameless victim in a family of monsters. 

She is a victim, make no mistake. Robbed of her powers, excluded from family life by her father, ignored by her siblings—terrible things were done to her, and she neither deserved them nor brought them on herself.

But she most certainly is not blameless. 

It’s common to want to downplay or ignore the flaws of a character you identify with, and Vanya is nothing if not identifiable. Who hasn’t been left out of the group? Who hasn't felt like their voice was muted, their story ignored? Her story resonates with fans, and so it makes sense that they would want to defend her. It makes sense that they would want to ignore her flaws, focus on the moments when she’s victimized and not when she victimizes others. But do you know who suffers the most when we pretend she’s completely innocent of any wrongdoing? 

Vanya. 

Pretending She’s Innocent Disregards Her Agency 

Vanya has agency, and she uses it. She makes her own choices. The results of these choices wind up pushing her further and further away from her siblings and closer to her future as the White Violin, but that does not make the choices any less hers. 

Again, not everything that happens to her is her fault, but it’s important to acknowledge that the choices her siblings make regarding how they treat her do not come out of the ether. Allison chooses to ream her out for trying to sympathize with her painful divorce and custody battle; but because she brings up Vanya’s book in her lecture, it’s safe to assume that her anger is in part a result of the things Vanya wrote. Her siblings choose to hold a meeting without her, but Vanya was the one who chose to stay at an address where she could not be reached by phone rather than at the Academy or even her apartment. Allison chooses to try and Rumor her, but this is in direct response to Vanya’s threats and screaming rage that left her with no other defense. 

Luther chooses to choke her unconscious and lock her in an anechoic chamber, but he would not have done this if Vanya had not allowed herself to lose control of her anger and nearly kill her own sister, making herself appear to be an immediate threat to everyone currently under that roof. 

I’m not trying to downplay the awfulness of her siblings’ actions toward her. I am simply pointing out that Vanya’s behavior toward her siblings is no less deplorable, and part of the cycle in which she suffers. She had a choice in all of those situations I mentioned. She didn’t have to write her autobiography. She didn’t have to jump to conclusions upon seeing her siblings gathered without her, or upon hearing Allison’s confession. Vanya made perhaps the worst choice possible in all of those situations, but you can’t deny she had a choice simply because the result makes her look selfish. 

Pretending She’s Innocent Downplays Her Trauma

I know that seems counterintuitive. Current trends in trauma talk tend to make victimhood an either/or: either you are a victim, or you are a perpetrator. This is ridiculously simplistic and so wrong I could spend quite a few words explaining how, but I’ll sum up my rebuttal instead: 

Hurting people hurt people. 

I’ve seen this notion called by many names. The chain of pain. The cycle of abuse. Generational curses. Generational sin. (I grew up in a very religious household.) Call it whatever you like, but the principle remains the same. People who are hurt by others make self-centered choices to protect themselves from being hurt in the same way again; these choices hurt others in new ways, who go on to hurt others, and so on and so forth until someone breaks the cycle. 

Vanya was hurt as a child. There’s no way around it. She was deeply hurt, and excluded, and treated as if she was unwanted. Being told by her parent that she was ordinary, being forbidden from taking part in the family photos, hearing from her parent that he doesn’t think her existence is even worth mentioning—all of that is damaging and it’s no wonder Vanya has such deep scars. 

But not all of these scars can be romanticized. It’s easy to feel sympathy for a lost little girl who plays her violin while her siblings learn to be heroes; it’s far more difficult to muster up the same pity for a young woman who flies into a screaming rage because she refused to believe the truth of her sister’s soul-searching confession. It’s easy to cheer for a wounded woman as she finds the courage to tell her story; not so much when we learn that this act of empowerment harmed six people who neither asked nor wanted to be written about. 

Vanya is selfish. She is bitter, she is vindictive, she jumps to conclusions and she lacks empathy. All of these traits are a direct result of the trauma she suffered. She is selfish because she felt as if she got far less than her siblings as she grew up, and now she feels she must cling to the things she wants before they are taken away. She is bitter because she felt she had to watch her siblings be spoiled while she suffered; she is vindictive because she felt she had to sit and take whatever ill treatment she was given and now she is overcompensating. She jumps to conclusions because she didn’t know her siblings all that well, and so the only means she had to explain their behavior was to construct narratives in her head; and she lacks empathy because being excluded from and presented with a distorted picture of family life gave her few reasons or opportunities to practice empathy. None of these personality traits are attractive, but none of them would exist without her trauma. 

Ignoring these traits might make Vanya look better, true, but it also denies some of the most insidious effects of a childhood spent on the outskirts of her own family. 

Pretending She’s Innocent Lessens Her Importance to the Story

A common refrain in this fandom is that Vanya went on a rampage because she lost control of her powers. Every negative action she committed using her powers, every thing she did that harmed someone, is chalked up to a lack of control over the powers she just recently discovered. And she did lose control—but not of her powers. 

When I vented to a friend of mine, they said that “Vanya lacks control over her powers the same way somebody with anger issues lacks control over their fists.” Her powers aren’t the problem. They’re an extension of her emotions, and that is what she lacks control over. Watch her during her rampage. She actually exhibits very fine control over her powers—fine enough to flip a car that honked at her, fine enough to kill Pogo in a very gruesome way. She also has control over when those powers activate; if she lacked control of those powers, she would have instantly shredded Pogo the moment she saw him, rather than being able to wait until after she’d bullied him into a confession. 

When Vanya’s rampage, and the resulting apocalypse, are made into a result of powers she can’t control, those powers become more important than Vanya herself. Her choices no longer matter if her powers are in control. Her trauma, her background, her motivations—none of those matter. She is simply a vehicle for her powers. She is innocent of wrongdoing, but she is no longer important to the story. 

Vanya makes choices, as I’ve demonstrated. They’re awful choices, but they drive the story and influence what her siblings do. However, the corners of the fandom that wish to absolve Vanya of all blame portray these choices not as decisions on her part, but as inevitable reactions to negative stimuli. Of course she flew into a screaming rage when Allison confessed to Rumoring her; it’s not like she could have taken a deep breath and asked a few more questions. Of course she destroyed the Academy; it’s not like she could have simply broken out of her prison and moved on with her life. None of those were choices. None of those were Vanya. Those were simply results of what others did to her. She doesn’t matter; only her powers drive the story. 

When we acknowledge that Vanya’s harmful and self-destructive actions were the results of choices she made, Vanya becomes a character. She becomes a fully realized person with motivations and flaws, virtues and vices, whose decisions drive the story to a tragic conclusion. She is integral to a story that would not exist without her to drive it. 

When we pretend that her harmful and self-destructive actions were inevitable reactions to negative stimuli—or worse: her powers taking control of her—Vanya becomes little more than a MacGuffin. She is no longer a character; she is a walking plot device that will end the world if handled improperly. She is no longer vital to the story; her powers are the important thing. At this point, we might as well replace her with a nuke or an unusually volatile houseplant. 

Pretending She’s Innocent Perpetuates Toxic Narratives

In literature, especially Western literature, there is a narrative that abuse is a sort of purifying agent. Dumbledore expresses it most explicitly, when he says Harry “needed” to be abused by his aunt and uncle in order to develop strong character; but it’s far older than that. Cinderella often falls into this trope, what with the abuse victim being sweet and kind while her spoiled stepsisters are cartoonishly horrid. (I will say, though, that one thing I appreciated about the 2015 Cinderella remake was that “Have courage and be kind” was something instilled in her by loving parents before her father ever remarried. Cinderella’s sweet nature is something that managed to survive the abuse, not a result of it.) 

It is disturbingly common in this fandom to pretend that Vanya’s only flaws are a lack of self-confidence and low self-esteem. Her selfishness, her bitterness and lack of empathy are all downplayed or ignored; in some fanworks, she is even portrayed as kind and empathetic, a result of being left out as a kid and not wanting anyone to suffer the way she suffered. Not only does this deny Vanya’s canon characterization, but it plays into and perpetuates the notion that child abuse results in better children. 

I don’t think anyone in this fandom does so on purpose. I have yet to see a single fan attempt even a flimsy defense of the way Reginald treated his children, and Leonard is roundly condemned as the emotional abuser he is. This fandom is good at recognizing abuse, and it’s good at recognizing how harmful it is. Where it fails, though, is recognizing that the effects of abuse cannot and should not be romanticized. 

Vanya is a deconstruction of the broken bird, the unfavorite who was never in the limelight and always ignored. A child who grew up under the circumstances she faced would almost certainly not become kind and empathetic; they would become bitter and self-centered, resenting every moment they were not the center of attention, hating the siblings who stole their limelight. This is not pretty. It is not the sort of thing that lends itself to sweet fanart or beautiful poetry. It is not a tale of resilience and persistence; it is a tale of brokenness and perpetuation of the chain of pain. Vanya is hurting, and in her hurt, she hurts people. This is not the sort of story we like to tell ourselves, but it is the sort of story that happens far more often than we will ever care to admit. Vanya is not a romanticization of the unfavorite; she is realism. She is a result. 

Pretending otherwise does a disservice to very real people who share Vanya’s background. Child abuse does not result in better children; it results in broken adults who must learn how to function in society all over again. Depression and anxiety are not the only outcomes of abusive childhoods; adult survivors of child abuse also suffer from an inability to form and maintain relationships, poor social skills, aggression and violent behavior, and many other effects that would not lend themselves to a pretty piece of art. Child abuse is ugly, and the results are ugly. Romanticizing a character who exhibits that ugliness makes it that much more difficult for people to admit they see themselves in that ugliness, that this character’s most horrid traits remind them of their own behavior and made them realize what changes they need to make. 

The Umbrella Academy is not a tale of empowerment. It’s a tale of pain, and brokenness, and slowly but surely recovering yourself. It’s a tale of how abuse breaks children, and how that damage is turned on others. The Academy is a perfect mirror, a place where real survivors can see themselves in the characters they meet. It’s a place where it is okay to be messed up, where it’s okay to admit that the shit you went through as a kid turned you into a bully, or an addict, or a person who can’t take responsibility for anything, and where it’s okay to admit that you’ve hurt others. The Academy is where survivors can face their inner demons through the lens of fiction, where they don't have to pretend their demons made them better people. 

None of this can happen if we continue to romanticize one character’s abuse. 

[banashee]

Part 3/7

-

 "What do you mean, you LOST Steve?!"

 “In my defense, he’s tiny!”

 “ So are you!”  

 Tony puffs up his chest like a peacock, trying to make himself look bigger than the scrawny 12-year old that he currently is. Besides, that answer is kinda hypocritical, given that Clint himself is only 1 and a half inches taller than Tony is at the moment - or any given moment, actually. Even when Clint isn’t currently a teenager, that half-inch in particular seems to be important to him.

 Tony is about to spit out a rebuttal for that comment about being tiny, but the older boy looks at him in utter confusion and disbelief, quiver dangling from his arm while he gestures through the air. Clint has no idea what’s going on.

 All he knows is that he went shooting arrows and when he arrived upstairs, everything is in utter chaos and he’s being dragged through the hallway by Tony who keeps yelling that Steve is lost and they need to find him. And now they’re here, somewhere in the tower and not any smarter than before.

 With a sigh, Phil interrupts their bickering. Just like Clint, he doesn’t know what is even happening. But since he is one of the designated parent-adults, it’s on him to figure this out. One would think that he’s gotten used to this in the last few weeks. After all, most of the team is living their lives as kids for the better part of a month now, but with these humans around him, Phil knows, things are never quiet for long, no matter their age.

 He has the remarkable ability to stay calm in pretty much any situation. He’s got this.

 “Boys, please. I’ve been gone for like 30 minutes, can anyone explain to me what happened here while I was gone?” While he finishes the sentence, Phil bats off the slowly extending arm of a plant that’s trying to eat his sleeve. The thing has taken over most of the floors occupied by the Avengers, spreading out at an alarming speed. Who knew that venus fly traps could be this… Invasive?

 Clint shrugs helplessly. As confused as he is, he is worried about Steve.  Because Tony is right,      Steve is tiny    , but it doesn’t stop him from seeking out all sorts of trouble. The main issue is probably that Steve manages to look completely innocent and adorable, even when he is about to set fire to something just to see what happens. It’s an issue.

 “I don’t know, I’ve been shooting arrows downstairs. Then Tony came running and yelling about Steve being lost and I don’t know what’s happening. Tony?”

 The younger boy looks uncomfortable, chewing on his lower lip and eyes flickering back and forth.

 “Okay, so I know this sounds bad…” Hesitating for a moment, he looks up at Phil. The plant is sneaking up at them again, and Phil shoves it off - he would very much like to know how this much chaos ensured in such a short timespan, but then again, he’s learned lately that the kiddie-versions of the Avengers are, naturally, even more of a human tornado than usual.

 Phil can also tell that Tony seems to feel guilty about something - he, as well as everyone else, has opened up a bit by now, but the trust issues are still very much present. Right now, he avoids looking him in the eyes.

 “Please tell me what happened. No one is mad, we just need to know what is going on so we can help. And find Steve. How did he get lost?.”

 Tony sighs, then he starts talking to the slowly extending venus fly trap next to Phil’s head, keeping his eyes focused on the plant while he explains as quickly as possible what happened.

 “Okay, so I was in the lab with Bruce…”

 *+~

     Normally, the labs would have been off-limits for kids of their age. But then again, it would be more than a little far-fetched to call any of the Avengers “normal”, no matter how old they are. As it is, both Tony and Bruce are both highly intelligent and easily bored, although Bruce isn’t really one to voice that latter part out loud. He simply tries to find any kind of occupation that he can, which usually ends up being whatever book he can get his hands on.  

     Being quiet and invisible is what he does best. Knowing his file and the environment he grew up in, it doesn’t exactly surprise anyone, but they do worry about him.  

     Right now though, he seems to be happy enough.  

     Science is fascinating, and getting to share the excitement and    learning new things      with an older friend like Tony, is… Amazing.  

     As soon as the fear and weariness from the beginning of their age regression has worn off a bit, the two of them are oftentimes attached to the hip.  

     Tony himself had never really had friends before, especially friends he could share his excitement with. School is school, but his classmates are quite a few years older than him and don’t really care about hanging out with a 12-year old.  

     Meeting Bruce is like meeting a younger, much more quiet version of himself, and that is both    fascinating       and wonderful. The two of them get along beautifully.  

     Surprisingly, it doesn’t take long for them to get permission to use the science labs in the tower, although there are some general ground rules set and Phil and Thor quickly remove anything that might be too dangerous for the children to be around.  

     It works out, until this one day, when they come across a hidden drawer full of glass bottles.  

     To be fair, no one, besides probably the adult-versions of Tony and Bruce knew about that one, and the kids don’t really mean anything by opening it - Tony bumps into the side of the table with his knee on accident, and suddenly the drawer opens up.  

     “Ow! Oh hey, look at this!”  

     “What is it?” Bruce looks up from his experiment when he hears a bump and the older boy say “ow!” but then he sees what Tony is pointing at.  

     “Oh!” He climbs off of the chair - jumping really since his feet dangle in the air when he’s sitting on it. As soon as Bruce hits the floor, only a bit of hair is visible over the edge of the table.  

     “What’s in there? Are we even supposed to use this?”  

     “It doesn’t say… Hold on.”  

     Tony is curious, pulling out a few of the bottles to investigate their contents from the outside. Bruce on the other hand is getting nervous, uncertainty strong.  

     “We, uh, I think we should put this back. If it was hidden…” he trails off, chewing on his lower lip and shuffling his feet.  

     For a moment, Tony looks like he wants to argue with that, but then thinks better of it. Bruce is probably right. He is aware that being allowed in here without supervision is a privilege and he doesn’t want to jeopardize it, even though his curiosity is nagging at the back of his brain.  

     “Yeah, okay, you’re right.” He is about to just pack everything back where it was, but then it happens.  

     Tony knocks over one of the vials on the table by accident and jumps to catch it in time before it rolls off of the edge and hits the ground. Naturally, while doing so, he knocks over the remaining two and in a series of unfortunate events, glass breaks, and strange liquids mix up. Rushing to clean it all up, a few drops of the concoction drip into a nearby flower pot, and then everything happens way too fast. In a matter of minutes, the venus fly trap has grown unnatural amounts, and then two boys scramble to get out of the room.  

  ~+*

 “...So, an unknown substance got into a houseplant down there, it kind of mutated, spread out, infected other plants on the way. And now we can’t find Steve anywhere in this jungle?”

 Phil sums it all up, admittedly assuming that last part, but it’s not far-fetched at all.

 He is quickly walking alongside the two boys as they try to make their way through the mess.

 “Uhm - yeah, pretty much.” Tony admits sheepishly, looking guilty as he pushes his way past another snapping head of venus fly trap. “We didn’t know where he was before, and now we can’t find him anywhere.” He looks guilty and miserable.

 “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, I promise.” he adds, careful not to sound too defensive, but not very successful.

 “It’s okay, Tony, I believe you.” the boy in question doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he nods nonetheless. It doesn’t escape Phil’s attention that Tony takes all of the blame to himself, leaving Bruce completely out of it. But he is nowhere to be seen, so he needs to ask,

 “Do you know where Bruce is right now? I’d rather keep everyone close together at the moment.”

 “He went to tell Thor when we realized we couldn’t find Steve. I think they’re already looking for him, together with Nat, so I ran to get Clint…”

 “You did the right thing. Now let’s go find the others.”

 The three of them make a run for it, and finally, when they round a corner, there is Thor with Bruce, Nat and Lucky in tow.

 “Any success?” Phil asks, worried, but glad that at least the rest of the family is together.

 “Not yet, but we’re onto something. This way!” Thor adds, pointing in the direction where Lucky is shuffling with his nose on the floor.

 “Wait, you’re letting Lucky search for him? That’s genius!” Clint pipes up, and it’s the first thing he’s said in a while. But his love and adoration for this dog has been clear from the second he’d set eyes on him.

 “It was Nat’s idea!” Bruce offers proudly, while Thor is holding up one of his sweaters that was clearly the source of scent for the dog. Nat is beaming next to them.

 The little girl had shaken her head no everytime someone would call her “Natasha”, always correcting that it was  “Natalia”. The nickname didn’t take long at all to establish itself, and she seems to be more and more comfortable here every single day.

 From the start, she’d spent most of her time either lurking in doorways or behind a corner, just watching everyone else around her, unsure how to interact or ask for anything. As young as she is, distrust and uncertainty of the people around her are a long standing habit already and it’s heartbreaking to think about.

 The language barrier isn’t nearly as much of a problem as they’d thought - clearly, the Red Room starts teaching the girls other languages early on, making it easier to blend in. Now, spending so much time in America, Nat picks up more and more of the language every day, soaking up knowledge like a sponge.

 But then again, she is also slowly warming up to them - the first person she latched onto had been Clint - if this has anything to do with subconsciousness or simply the fact that on the day they got turned into kids, he was busy throwing sharp and heavy objects on any adult trying to grab them, they’re not quite sure.

 Unsurprising to anyone who knows the two as adults, they are a package deal, no matter the circumstances.

 Clint himself, being the oldest of the kids, is both paranoid and protective - it has taken him by far the longest to warm up to any adult, even Phil and Thor. He’s okay with being around them, and even talking a bit lately because they’ve made it clear that they won’t force him or any of the other kids to do anything, and won’t come close unless given explicit permission. It works out better than expected, although it is still very much a work in progress.

 None of this will stop him from putting himself in between the younger kids and anything that might possibly be a threat.

 Right now, all of them have one collective concern though: find Steve.

 As sweet and polite as he is, that boy is trouble. He’s curious, in general but especially here in this entirely new and exciting time for him.

 To be fair, Avengers Tower is an adventure for everyone who comes here for the first time. For a 10 year old boy coming straight from 1928 it must be like living in a science fiction novel.

 Regardless: this is the very same boy who thinks it is a good idea to climb out of windows and explore the outside of the tower, only to be picked up by a very confused and concerned Spider-Man, putting him back inside and shouting down a hallway,

 “Hey Folks, I picked up a very small and very brave boy from your rooftop! Does he belong to anyone? hellooohoo?!”

 So, yeah. This is indeed a very concerning situation, especially with a mutated giant plant in the house that takes over everything it can reach.

 Only a few minutes later, their search for Steve ends with Thor wrestling aside a particularly nasty piece of plant, Lucky barking excitedly and making a run to lick all over Steve’s face, who indeed, sits on the ground, unharmed and completely unconcerned. His notepad and a few colored pencils are scattered around him, the green on the paper indicating that he might have tried to draw the venus fly trap that’s currently resting one head on his shoulder.

 A shout of relief runs through the entire group, and Phil can only barely restrain himself from tackling the goddamn plant and pry it off of Steve. Whenever this whole age regression thing ends, Phil is pretty damn certain he’ll have lost whatever is left of his hair from stress at that point.

 “Hi!” The bright smile on the little boy’s face when he greets the others is like the sun coming up. Steve carefully strokes the venus fly trap head on his shoulder, then reaches to the side and pulls away with a fork full of what looks like meatballs. Everyone else just stares for a moment, because what?

 “Steve!”

 “Steve! Oh my god!”

 “Thank the allfather, you’re okay!”

 “Uh.      Are     you okay?”

 “What the fuck.”

 “Language!”

 “Are you…      Feeding     this thing??”

 The questions come out in a messy jumble at the same time and Steve beams up at them.

 “Oh, yes, I’m fine! This is Cleopatra, by the way. I figured, a plant this alive should have a name, right?”

 “...You… Named      and     feed this thing. OK, cool. What the hell is going on?”

 Phil blinks a few times, collecting himself. Everyone seems to be at a loss for words, but at least, all kids are safe and alive, and honestly, that’s probably all they can ask for at the moment. He’ll be bald by the end of the month, Phil is sure of it.

 “So… What are we going to do about this?” someone asks, and the room is in silence for a minute or two.

 Lucky is on his back, letting Steve rub his belly. Then, a leaf is slowly creeping up at him and the dog jumps, growling and putting himself in between the plant and the boy.

 This is probably their cue to do something.

 Together, all of them walk towards the end of the hallway. They’re not that far from their general living area, but there is a bit of space left, several doors leading to different rooms.

 “You. Stop eating my jacket.” Phil scolds the plant and pulls it away from his sleeve. At this point, it’s useless to do so since there are more fabric scraps than actual sleeves hanging off of his shoulder at this point. Still, it’s a matter of principle.

 The plant didn’t grow eyes, but Phil swears, if it did, it would have glared at him. Weirder things have happened here.

 “I think we should somehow contain this beast, lest it’ll take over everything” Thor points out, carefully picking up a potted cactus from the windowsill, but too late - it snarls at him and he holds it away from himself as it makes its way towards his beard. He smiles at the thing, slightly shaking his head.

 As much as he likes the chaos that comes with his teammates turned into kids, this is getting out of control.

 “Agreed. We just need to find a room…” Phil trains off, looking down the hallway and weighting out their options.

 “We never use the room in the back.” Steve points out, holding out the last meatball on a fork for Cleopatra to eat. She inhales the offering in record speed and then burps loudly.

 “I’m still not sure if this” Clint gestures with his elbow towards the empty plate, since he’s otherwise occupied with wrestling one of the larger plant parts together with Lucky, who is biting at it to keep it away from the kids, “is a good idea or another problem.”

 “Definitely not a good idea. But I honestly don’t care as long as it keeps this thing happy long enough for us to store it somewhere.” Phil grabs a handful of another plant, the mutated Monstera in his way and makes his way to the end of the hallway.

 “Her name is Cleopatra!”

 “Alright, as long as      Cleopatra     is happy for long enough to put her in a contained room, I’ll be happy.”

 Phil will probably have to pay for this in the near future - but for now, he really doesn’t give a fuck. All that matters to him is that the kids are all safe and everyone is back together.

 The seven of them spend a significant amount of their afternoon stuffing plants into the office, and when they close the door again, pushing in the leaves and extending heads of Cleopatra the Venus Fly Trap in an attempt to stop them from leaving the room, they simultaneously let out a big sigh of relief.

 A few days later, the kids are busy kneading cookie dough in the kitchen, with Thor by their side and Phil working on his laptop in a corner, listening with one ear and smiling every now and then. It’s been a fairly uneventful day so far, which for them, is always a good thing.

 They laugh, bicker and argue just like any big family would, teasing one another, stealing bits of chocolate and dough from the next person and generally having a blast.

 It’s a good day, and they hope that they’ll get more of those in the foreseeable future, until there is a cure for the spell that will turn everyone back into an adult.

 More or less secretly, both Thor and Phil want to make sure that their friends get to collect some nice childhood memories. Neither of those children has had an easy upbringing they know, and even though they are unsure if it’ll even work, it doesn’t stop them from trying. They love these people and they love spending time with them, one way or another.

 “You dropped something!” Steve laughs, accompanied by the sound of Lucky shooting up from his blanket and in between their feet to catch the bit of dough. Thankfully, there is no chocolate in it, because no one can move fast enough to stop the dog from inhaling it.

 “Too late. Oh well.” Clint bends down to Lucky, and is greeted with doggy breath and what Lucky considers a proper greeting - slobbering all over his face.

 “This is not good for you, boy. I love you still.” he tells the dog, and holds his hands out of reach before Lucky decides it would be a good idea to lick them, too. They’re still covered in baking ingredients, after all.

 Suddenly, the elevator makes it’s usual ‘pling’ sound, indicating that someone arrived just now. Just a moment later, a surprised yelp sounds from somewhere in the hallway, followed by

 “What the hell?!” in Pepper’s voice, and then, much, much louder:

 “PHIL!”

 The man in question looks up from his laptop, blinking. Slowly, very slowly he gets up from his seat.

 “Poop with knives.”

 The kids turn around with regretful expressions and a silent “Oh shit” mirroring each other in their faces - it looks about right. Even Thor looks like that, although he pats Phil on the shoulder apologetically, leaving behind a large handprint with flour on his sweater.

 “Ah, the wrath of Lady Pepper. Farewell, dear friend.”

 Phil sighs on his way out.

 “You got this, Phil! Sorry!” one of the kids calls after him, and it actually makes him huff a laugh.

 “I’m really feeling the love there, guys. See you, later.”

 The smile that Pepper greets him with is sugary sweet and murderous. One of her sleeves looks like it’s been gnawed on by a vicious venus fly trap…

 “Pepper, hi. I’m terribly sorry about this, but I’m sure we can find a solution…”

*+~

23 - Hiding

[lambertsdaddyissues]

It’s fucking hilarious to me how you’ve spent like the last week screaming about how people are “tantruming” about the bang, when quite clearly the one throwing the biggest tantrum is you. Do you have no sense of self awareness?? Your white-knighting isn’t making the bang look any more appealing. I know you’ll never admit it but I fully believe you are one of the mods in disguise, raging about the fact that people dared to disagree with you about the content restrictions. Either that or you’re a massive troll, since when someone actually tried to explain to you what you were getting wrong, you completely missed the point and basically wrote angry word salad in reply.

In order:

- I mean, given that they started the wank over bare minimum content restrictions, I’d say they’re pretty tantrum-y. I was just rude because I wanted to call a bunch of idiots a bunch of idiots and using capital letters is fun. But that’s my mistake. I forgot that when like, your lot is angry and vocal about a non-issue and even starts a loud-and-proud spite event, it’s fine, but when I’m angry and vocal about an issue, I’m tantruming.

- Of course i have no sense of self-awareness! Glad you noticed!

- The reason I’ve been so vocal is because you idiots literally made shitting on the EBB the latest bandwagon to jump on and do you fucking know how taxing that is on people’s mental health? I’ve gotta assume it hurts to have something you’re genuinely passionate about torn to pieces under the scrutiny of people engaging in bad faith. The mods are people too and taking the brunt of an attack like the wank fucking SUCKS. I know if I’d been in their position, i would have felt like pure and utter shit after this.

- I’m not an advert for the bang. If i was, I’d be focusing less on the idiots that started this wank and more on the bang’s image.

- Don’t be silly, I’m not a mod in disguise, the mods have way more self-respect than I do and aren’t engaging presumably so that people like you don’t send them asks like this??

- Also, if I’m a mod then who am I white-knighting? Myself? I have questions about these logistics.

- Of course I won’t admit to being a mod in disguise. I’m not one. It’s odd, you’re simultaneously wrong and right about the same thing.

- The explanation the last anon gave me was not a very good one, actually, because it was a bit wrong about things. Just because they took the opposite stance doesnt make their word gospel truth. I’ll admit, my posts could have used a bit of nuance, but they were long enough already that I figured that people would be able to use their critical thinking to understand that I meant that in a collaborative event, people are going to have to engage with others’ content, and even if not Everyone ended up having to engage with the kinds of niche content that were on the restrictions, at least Some People would, and given that the EBB is not a kink/gore event, there was no guarantee that there would be consenting people present to do so. But you seem to have completely missed the point there and assumed that I was talking about every artist being forced to do kink art? Which i wasnt doing, by the way. Don’t worry, i spelt it out for you!!

- My rebuttal wasnt angry word salad because the point that I made was actually valid. I even bolded it for you!! I hope you manage to find it this time 💚

- I tried to engage in good faith, anon, but it’s hard to take your ask seriously when it’s so full of updog.