#its just really good at breaking down the complexities of learning and respecting anything and just how important it is to be bad at someth

[system-of-a-feather]

Hiya! Umm... I saw your long AAPI/cultural appropriation essay, and you seem to know what you're talking about. Way more than I do.

I'm in a tricky spot and I don't know what to do about it. (I know you may not be the right person but I don't know who else to ask)

So. I'm a traumagenic system. I was lonely, and anime was there for me. I have introjects, sure. But we're polyfrag and it's fuzzy, and for the whole system it feels more than just a source media thing.

We grew up DREAMING about Japan. We studied japanese and tried to sing the original lyrics of songs and search up their meanings as a kid. I'd sometimes try to make english versions of them. Not to hide the original, but because my family couldn't understand the beauty I saw. And I felt such a connection to it...

Now I'm rambling... 😅

I've always wanted to teach Japanese, to use Japanese every day in my life. When I wrote stories I would go search through all the Japanese to english dictionaries and search for the perfect name with the perfect meaning. I thought all the names were gorgeous and appreciated how special they were.

I try and bring Japanese culture into my life every day, even. I listen to Japanese idol groups and pop. I'm still trying to learn japanese, and further more I want to teach it to my community, to create a place where we can come together and learn this language together, as a small country community. To learn and embrace some of their cultures and try new things along the way.

I know that I am not Japanese. I don't want to appropriate them. But I find them so... or not them. But the language and culture and almost everything I find out has me entranced and wanting to learn more. It almost feels like my purpose, or a huge part of my life. My goal. My mission.

I live on the disability pension. I will probably never see Japan in person, and I've heard disability is frowned upon there anyway, to some degree. I don't know if I could even live there, especially if my workability was low. I'm not so young anymore. Even then there are stories of all the people who aim for their dreams and don't make it there. So I dropped it from my cards. I decided if I couldn't do it there... maybe I could do it where I am.

If I'm culturally appropriating Japan and it's cultures I'm happy to give them all the credit. I'm proud of where I found what I have. I adore it and would lift it up any day. But I also adore what I'm doing, what I'm bringing to life. I'm making some Japanese-Aussie vibe culture hybrid or something. I don't know!

But I wouldn't give it up for anyone. If a Japanese person asked me too... I'd prefer to start life over in Japan with no money or resources to my name. I'd probably prefer to live their homeless. I couldn't organise it myself. But I'd take a harsher punishment rather than let it go. I'd prefer to embrace it entirely than ever give it up.

But people online keep saying that nobody should use the names, the language, the cultures... I don't know what to do. I... don't have an answer.

I don't want to be for something so harmful. But I've posted about how names are beyond something that could be taken away. I've disagreed with people of colour about Japanese examples. I've never met a truly Japanese people, beyond watching lessons and shows and blogs and cultural breakdowns. I don't know what they'd say. I've heard that Japanese people praise other cultures for trying to learn their language, from articles online detailing what foreigners should expect. But I know Japan is big on honour culture, so they might just think it and not say their true thoughts to be polite.

Idk what to do!! I want to uplift everyone around me. To build villages for people who I come in contact with. To create openness and to be respectful and create fond memories. I don't want to go down as someone oppressive. But I want to go down as me.

I have no Japanese heritage, no japanese blood or family. I have no rights except for years with nothing else.

I know the answer some people would give is to embrace my own culture. But well... Aussie culture is sort of memes and culture-mix-soup. Beyond white man capitalism and conquering and the white people bible. Aussie culture is "it's hot here and we're like smart, funky, weird sounding bogans". I sort of want more than that.

I want to preserve their (Japans) culture how I found it, if I can. If I accidentally tamper with it, I want to say that, to let it be known. But I like how it is too mostly.

There are some negatives to it too, I know. Like, LGBT rights in Japan, the mental illness stuff, and more. But I'm not willing to leave because of those bad things.

Sometimes moving forward means taking aspects of different places and furthering them together to make something new. Is that cultural appropriation? Will I get in trouble for doing that? And how can I progress it/myself, how can I aspire and dream of a better world if all the jigzaw blocks are forced down to the table and unmovable. What do I do?

I don't understand it. And I don't know what to do about it.

Help.

(sorry it is so long. Sorry 😅😥)

Reading this back, I feel like the indignant child. "I don't want the other one, I want that one." Is that bad? Idk.

I'll just leave this here. What is your take? What do you& think?

Yeah thats a complex situation that I don't really have any kneejerk direct opinions on it towards. I might actually leave this in my drafts for a bit to think about it some cause theres a multi-dimensional aspect to it and a lot to consider that even I don't think I'm entirely all that knowledgable to comment on

(Especially regarding Japanese culture as I am Not Japanese and while there are similar dynamics in how western / white perspectives influence it, the dynamics are different and the histories are different; additionally, of a lot of the 'main big' Asian groups, Japanese is honestly the one I've had some of the least engagement with as the places I've lived have been heavily Vietnamese, Thai, Chinese, and Korean; we have a couple Japanese marketplaces near but beyond community, I don't have too much personal insight into the intricracies of Japanese culture and their opinions on these matters, so do understand ANYTHING from this post is coming from a Indo-Chinese perspective and anything I say on this topic, is to be taken second / less than any Japanese person that might want to key in on it as well)

I do have to say - from what I can tell from this ask alone (which is not necessarily a best sample, a lot of judgement of respect is best seen in Action and not words which asks are limited to) - I do have to say I really think you have a good intent and a better understanding / concern to the complexities of things than a lot of people I've seen who "really like Japan and Japanese culture" so in my more optimistic, generally wanting-to-give-best-faith and progressive culture-sharing perspective, I would like to encourage the dream and intent cause I think the vision is really great and amazing honestly.

The issue I have is that the practical application is pragmatically difficult and a bit uneasy because, as much as I think you have a lot of good intent and probably more than the average person, you aren't the first nor last white person who found themselves enamored and emotionally bonded with an Eastern Culture and with a full heart and chest wanted to help preserve and care for the culture. I don't say it in a means to be accusatory or aggressive, but more so a thing to be cautious if you want to try both holding your dreams and joys in the most respectful manner - but the rhetoric does sound a bit white savior / white knight adjacent. That is just to say that it's important to remember that, in the end of the day, Japanese people don't need you (a white person) to advocate for them or to save them and the culture doesn't need you to spread or preserve it for them.

I don't like to say it because I think with a lot of caution, respect, and passion, people who really love something can do a lot of good in the world; but (and I don't know if this is the case or just my past experience with white people who want to help Eastern cultures making be a bit cautious) inherently if there is any part of you that feels as though you will be a hero or leader in any way or form towards the Japanese / Japanese culture, I think one of the first things you'd need to make sure you do is to toss that dream of heroics out and take a massively more "follower" and "aid" mindset out.

In the end of the day, if you want to help any eastern culture be preserved and what not, its important that you - someone who has never been raised or lived the life - are never the end point of people reaching to it; the best place your role would and should be is a means of connection and resource provision, because in the end of the day, you are going to always be a student compared to those that have lived their life in the environment

With that in mind, I am a person who really likes the idea of healthy and productive sharing of cultures and respectful interactions between them and I also know that in some places - which I assume Australia might be as well - there is not as an abundant AAPI populace and probably not much of a pre-existing environment / people to engage with so the complexities of "leave it to the people of the culture" is not entirely practical.

So with all that in mind, first thing I'd say is - as I said above - listen to Japanese voices over mine. I'm speaking largely from theoretics on what I've seen in trends in other eastern cultures and my own experiences as well as being a relatively more idealistic and open perspective.

Second thing, I would see if there is any pre-existing niches where there might be at least an AAPI center around where you live - see if there are any events or classes or something that you may realistically be able to get involved in. If there aren't any of those, consider seeing if there are any direct cultural derivatives from that to participate (as in arts, crafts, hobbies, etc) - cause in my experience, stuff like martial arts are open things to engage in and they can help you connect with people more familiar and more engaged with the genuine culture.

The main reason I say this is because - other than the risk of falling into the white savior complex - one of the largest obstacles to doing this respectfully and healthily is putting time and effort into getting around how white / western culture has already distorted your understanding of Japanese culture in ways you probably don't know about. (And this isn't only you, cause I also am 100% sure I don't see Japanese culture correctly due to white / western influences; I'm not particularly qualified to talk about it as a result; its a very hard and very long journey for any not-Japanese person to do to get as untainted, genuine, and complete understanding of the culture as possible)

One of the best ways to navigate working on that is to find people and environments that are less-tainted by white / western lenses and influences and to take a more student lens and approach to it; very much a "sit and listen and reflect and do your unpacking homework"

If none of those are available or reasonably possible due to disability and/or financial things, I would strongly recommend reaching out to Japanese communities online (reddit probably has a good community) and getting advice from them as they will have more insight and ideas than I could think up.

I will say, they might be a lot more hesitant and wary than I am, cause again - from what I've seen, I think I'm considered pretty idealistic and a bit of a dreamer when it comes to including non-AAPI people in cultures (some are even uncomfortable with married-in-white people getting involved; my bestie is married to a Chinese person and he's been derogatorily and regularly considered a 'gweilo'; ie derogatory term meaning "Westerner" / "white man" / "ghost man") so you will probably face a lot of people nay-saying it, but I would hope maybe someone shares a little of the optimism / appreciation for the vision that I do, even if it's a minority.

That said, I think if you do want to honestly go forward with this and try to do so with the most respect and healthiest lens, I think it is important that you inevitably face the amount of distrust a lot of AAPI have towards white / western involvement in their culture face on and deeply develop a very complex and nuanced understanding to your place and position in the overall roles, history, and participation in it. Cause if you do want to help and do want to be a part of it, it's important to understand where YOUR culture comes into play with all of this. Cause you aren't Japanese and you will never be Japanese, even if you were an expect PhD holding person living in Japan. Inherently you will always be the white person engaging with Japanese culture, and so its important to remember that with you, you bring your own culture into this and that is something that has to be dissected in relationship to it all.

Third, and (less important but relevant) I do not at all mean this to diss on the culture or anything, but a lot of Eastern cultures have something of bad blood towards Japan and I don't honestly know the details enough nor have the energy to Properly Get Into It in a way that won't be misread without nuance by White Piss on the Poor Tumblr, but if you don't know what or why that bad blood exists, it'd be good to try to read into it and look into non-Japanese AAPI voices about it. This isn't to say that "its a bad culture", but more so that if we are talking about seeing the history as a whole, its important to know the impacts Japan and Japanese cultures have had on related cultures which, unfortunately, Japan has been a large part of. (China, Phillipines, Korea, etc)

Overall, it'd probably be an unpopular opinion among other AAPI, but I like the vision and passion you have for it and while I'm a bit hesitant to give support because I know how many people say similar things then fail to do all the work it takes to Do It Right ((ie, I honestly haven't really seen it ever, that said I haven't put the effort into trying to see it happen ever)), if you are willing to do all the tedious and life long homework of understanding your culture, Japanese culture, the ways your and Japanese culture interact to impact your understanding of BOTH cultures, white / western history, white / western history with AAPI cultures and Japan's culture, Japan's history within overall AAPI history, etc and are willing to do your due diligence to network, get involved, and engage with less white-tainted and warped parts of the culture AND navigate a lot of the inherent (fair, earned and justified) distrust to white / western involvement in culture, then I don't think you might have some merit to the dream.

Like it's going to be a LOT of work, a life long thing of work and admittedly, you will likely never be the expert or the advocate or the person you idealistically dream to be and that sounds negative, but in Buddhist philosophy, you are never meant to actually obtain perfection and its considered near impossible to reach "true enlightenment", but we aim for it anyways because the ideal is 1) worth aiming for and 2) we do it because it is good to try and do it anyways as the ideal is not necessary to enjoy the good that genuine and good work towards the ideal.

I guess the last parting thing I'd put out is that a really helpful concept and lens I'd recommend sitting on and thinking about is one of my favorite Buddhist lines of thoughts from Shunryu Suzuki here as it might be helpful in persisting against a lot of the inherent obstacles you will face should you genuinely intend to do it right, cause you are going to probably inherently - due to being white, western and not around any actual japanese culture - "the bad horse".

In general, I think in the end, one of the things that also would be really helpful is that I mention a lot of being a student to the Japanese culture and whether or not you want to take the writing in the Zen Buddhist idea of Zen behavior or just generally keeping a very respectful and chronic student lens to any really insurmountably large and complex topic that you are inherently disadvantaged in (such as learning and respecting a culture that you have no inherent place in), I recommend giving Shunryu Suzuki's book on "The Beginner's Mind" a read / listen.

Overall, that book has helped me so much in both mental health, goal seeking, system management, and overall my perspective on people and culture beyond a simple "buddhist" lens so I really really strongly recommend it.

[halite-jones-reblog]

Dealing with intrusive thoughts.

I will never be good or pure enough for anyone's absolute philosophy. This makes me feel bad, and like I have failed at being a good person, but the thought is a negative delusion, and does not undo the good I have done in my life previous to my failing to fit in with people who have refused to or are incapable of understanding me.

This also sets me free enough to think beyond simping for someone who simply never cared for me, or didn't care enough to make me feel like I was accepted or supported.

This sets me free enough to think about what I want to do in my life that is totally unconnected to things previous people who tried to be the leaders of my life.

I want to be open to the idea that maybe I should correct my thinking if it's bent or inappropriate or making people uncomfortable. But I have been made uncomfortable countless times, and sometimes I've been made to think that I owe the person who made me uncomfortable an apology, and that has made me even angrier. I have been apologized to before, but for other things.

My brain sticks to situations where no one has apologized to me for hurting my feelings. Some of it is me never speaking up for myself when my feelings are hurt, but I'm afraid to say it because of the inevitable shout-down of "your fee-fees don't matter, toughen up, crybaby!" Which of course just makes me cry more, and builds up my silent resentment that I hope will dissipate on its own.

But when I can't talk about my true feelings, they just stay where they are, for years. Not being able to talk to people about complex shit on equal terms makes me shut down.

I've been intimidated into and out of quite a lot of social groups, and in my desperation for community and acknowledgement, I've overextended myself.

I am healing every day I don't force myself into a situation where I feel like I've wronged someone just by standing next to them.

Learning to put myself first is scary because, as a very neurodivergent black sheep, my needs are mostly incompatible with others. I judge myself a little bit every day when I can't fit in or even silently disagree with those I care for or about, but not everyone is ever going to agree with everything someone else says.

I have attempted full agreeableness, and it has ended in misery, and resentment that is difficult to resolve. I need to fix it, but the thing I need to fix is not my incompatibility with others. The thing I need to fix is the feeling of inferiority I feel when I can't fit in.

In general, no one is telling me there's anything wrong with me but me. My notions of inferiority are echoes of past trauma, and don't apply to every situation.

I try to act with honor and respect, to bring humor and levity, and to share the works I've done with people that I hope are at least somewhat like-minded. I am not always met with the same, and it breaks my heart when I'm not.

I put so much effort into my dealings with others. It is difficult for me, with my neurodivergence, to just naturally connect. I have to work to appear human. It is work that very often goes unacknowledged, but I want to have friends and be around people so that I'm not just stuck with myself.

But when I can't really articulate that, people can't know or see what I'm doing. I need to stop sacrificing my calm to be in spaces I'm not ready to be in. And some people mislabel their spaces as safe, but I can't put my guard down until I know a space is safe for me.

When my brain is at its worst, every space seems like it is dangerous, and I feel like I cannot trust anyone, even when it's not the truth.

I'm trying to calm myself back down, and get back to a thought-space where I'm not consistently agitated. I don't want to hurt or disappoint anyone, or give an incorrect impression of myself. But I'm also in the negatives, and in the interest of keeping myself from lashing out at others, I would rather remove myself than hurt someone else. But that also hurts me, and prevents myself from getting closure, and I need to re-adjust the re-adjusted re-adjustments, which is very frustrating!

[wallwriterstuff]

The Good I Come Home To ||Leon S. Kennedy x Female!Reader|| Part 1

Warnings: Angsty, PTSD Leon being very jumpy and shell-shocked, mentions of sex. 

Words: 3318

Summary: Originally posted to my Archive of Our Own Account. 

Part 2 can be found here

Leon has kept it very casual with you for months, seemingly oblivious of the growing feelings you harbour. You have no idea just how badly it hurts him to leave you every time until he tries to cut you out of his life completely. You have other ideas. You just have to persuade Leon they're the right ones.

Leon S. Kennedy was a complicated man in many respects, but it was easy to unravel all those complex layers if you started looking at his core values, his sense of purpose. To serve, to protect. Leon was built to be the bodyguard of humanity, the first line of defence between unimaginable horror and the things he loved. Every experience had moulded him into this hard shell of a man, so far from the one people used to know. It had been interesting, really, to see an old friend from the Police Academy approach him and see just how different they had turned out. They both had the eyes of experience anybody in the force acquired over time, but Leon’s were sterner, like an unbreakable stone as opposed to ice you could chip away at and eventually shatter. This old friend of his had a small-town job and apple pie life. He had the white picket fence and the wife who kissed him when he came home to freshly made dinner. His children were doing well at school.

Leon had listened like his life was a whole other world away. It was visible in his eyes, though he carefully kept it off his face, that the comparison between each man actually disturbed him. You hadn’t meant to see of course. It was pure coincidence you’d happened to be in the supermarket, walking down that same aisle. His old friend had hit the barricade you so often hit when you asked. You’d stopped questioning it after a few months of back and forth and the looming threat of losing him became a dark and unbearable burden.

“So er, heard about the huge explosion at Raccoon. Where’d they place you after that?”

“Nowhere. I work for the government now.”

“Oh damn. FBI?”

“Something like that.”

His job was the complicated topic. Classified and bad enough to put a certain brand of darkness behind his eyes when you asked, it was  best left untouched by your hands because it was hidden beneath the many layers of the man you’d only ever been allowed to scratch the surface of – literally and figuratively. Beyond his core values, the simplicity of Leon S. Kennedy lay in his needs. He was a flesh and blood man after all. He was guaranteed to need to eat, to do laundry, to shower, to relieve himself. These simple needs were what made him somewhat predictable to you. On his best days, when he text you days or hours before, you were almost guaranteed to be wined and dined. Okay so the wine and dine option was sometimes more like beer and take-out pizza but it was always paid for by him if you bought the alcohol.

When he was feeling a little less than okay, you’d get no outright statement of his desire to see you, but he’d hedge around the topic and wait for you to ask him, like he was afraid to be a nuisance. You’d only get this awkward and prompting behaviour from him an hour or two before he showed up which left you little time to prepare, but a quick shower was always on the cards. In his worst moments, he’d give no warning and simply show up at your house with smouldering eyes that demanded your attention and everything else you had to give him. God help you, you always gave him everything. As simple as his needs were, as his feelings on the matter appeared, yours were much more complicated. Leon S. Kennedy had made it clear from the start when he met you at the bar that fateful night, all chiselled jaw and playful eyes, that nothing serious was to come of this.

It had progressed to a proper agreement when you both seemed to just keep running into each other. You were free to date, if you so pleased, and he’d stop showing up. He’d be gone like dust in the wind, untraceable and impossible to bring back. You didn’t want that. Until the day either of you became tied down you had agreed you were exclusive. You sated each other only. It was hard to keep to that promise all the time when he was away for long periods, but you remained true to your word anyway, and that was how it had stayed for a solid eight months. Leon came back to a bed you kept free just for him and left in the morning like it was no more than a pit-stop on a long and winding road.

You suspected he wasn’t proud of it. You thought sometimes you could see something softer in his eyes, something that made you think he wished for something more than he was already giving you. There were moments his eyes lingered when he said goodbye, times his hands stayed on you a little longer than they usually did. On rare occasions, when he was just a bit too drunk after what you guessed was a bad job, you let him sleep it off with his arms around you and listened to the whimpers in his sleep with an aching heart. Leon consistently let you have his body, gave you the briefest glimpses at the big heart he held so carefully hidden away, but never once did he let you into his mind. As much as you loved being with him, you had never truly been with him at all. You’d never truly connected with him beyond anything physical. It pained you to know you never would. You cared for him too much. You saw the deep pain he carried with him everywhere, and you’d never be able to alleviate that load because he wouldn’t let you.

You had to pause the TV to be sure you’d actually heard anything at all, but when you heard the noise again it was stronger, bolder. Knocking. Glancing at the clock, you turned the TV off with a frown. There weren’t many people who would come knocking at this late hour, and you didn’t know if your heart was in it tonight to let him in when he would forever keep you out. As if on cue, when you opened the door to a dripping wet Leon, thunder rumbled and rattled the open window in the corridor of your apartment block. A small puddle of water had formed on the windowsill, dripping in as the harsh rain battered the glass. Leaving your door propped with the door stop you kept nearby for moments like these, you crossed to the window to close it and lock out the weather. You felt sullen enough without the storm clouds invading your house.

“Leon if you’re here to drink that’s okay but I’m not really up for-“ you cut yourself off, uncertain all of a sudden as to what it was he was here for. His needs were always so simple, the looks and actions associated with them something you had come to learn to recognise without much conscious thought. This was entirely new. Those piercing blue eyes were sullen, fighting between being as hard as sapphire and as soft as calm ocean waves. What was frightening was the depth of the ocean you saw. It was like staring into an abyss of torment. Red-ringed and with whisky on his breath, it didn’t take a genius to realise Leon had been crying and was in fairly bad shape. Hair soaked and plastered to his forehead, he stared at you through those horribly complex eyes, his mouth half open like he wanted to say something but couldn’t force the words out. He was pale, breaths even but heavy, like he had to physically remind himself to huff out each one.

Wordlessly, you took him by the hand. His skin was freezing to the touch and you guessed the faithful jacket had done little to keep the bitter cold from seeping into his exposed skin. Your theory was proven right when his cheeks were just as cold to the touch.

“I…” you thought he might say more but it was like watching a caveman learn to talk. There were only sounds, no words. He was usually very skilful with his tongue but tonight those talents were nowhere to be found. Pushing his jacket from his shoulders you hung it to dry over the back of your sofa, hoping the radiator would do its job and leave it toasty for him when he inevitably put it on to leave you again. You ignored the stinging in your chest at the thought. Leon didn’t need you to be petty right now. Truthfully, you were frightened. Leon’s carefully constructed composure had been shattered by something and you didn’t think you wanted to know what was strong enough to shatter this man’s rock hard exterior and cut him so deeply. He stood dumbly in your hallway, and you gently pushed him to the edge of the sofa to take off his shoes so they wouldn’t traipse water into your home.

“Shhh Leon, just come with me.” You coaxed him back onto socked feet, leading him down the hall to your bathroom.

“No…no Y/N I, I don’t…” he swallowed.

“Do you trust me Leon?” you asked him, keeping your voice gentle like you were cajoling a wild animal into eating from your palm. Leon nodded without question and you smiled slightly. “Then just follow for me now.” You kicked open your door and led him to the edge of the tub, grabbing a towel from the shelving units there and placing it on the sink.

“What are you doing?” he could barely speak above a whisper, looking confused and upset and lost all at once.

“I’m going to run you a nice hot bath before you catch your death. I don’t know how long you were in the rain for Leon but you’re frozen to the bone.” You said calmly, putting the plug in the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. Leon didn’t answer, merely watched you with the eyes of a man so lost in trauma he couldn’t find his way back to the surface world and make sense of the happenings around him. While you waited for the water to turn steamy, you rubbed at his hair with the towel in your hand to dry it. You knew something was incredibly wrong when he let you mess it up like that. There were very few instances you were allowed to touch his hair and you had to always, always comb it back into place or suffer the consequences. Occasionally, you took a break to fill the tub with some of your prized bath oils. Lavender, camomile, jasmine, all your favourite scents from a beautiful kit a colleague had bought you as part of secret Santa last year.

He didn’t comment as the room filled with intoxicating, relaxing scents, nor when you checked the temperature again and told him he could get in when he was ready. He held the towel in both hands, staring at the cotton as if it might hold some answers.

“Thank you.” He mumbled. You nodded once.

“Have you eaten anything yet?” you asked him. He nodded once, but he didn’t meet your gaze. He was lying you were sure. “Okay. Take as long as you need in here, I’ll be about when you feel ready to see me alright?” you promised, leaning up to kiss his cheek softly. Your lips lingered a little too long, but Leon didn’t move away. He closed his eyes as if the contact was all he had wanted and more. As the door closed behind you you heard the soft, muffled sob he tried so hard to bury in the towel, and your heart broke a little more. Something had shattered Leon S. Kennedy and it didn’t sit well with you at all to see him this vulnerable. He needed the space right now to get his mind back in order but once he did, when he was ready to face you, you weren’t sure you’d get an explanation from him. He’d shut down every time you’d ever asked for one before.

He’d woken screaming one night, lashing out so violently that if you had been sat upright there’d have been no way to avoid his fist and he’d have knocked you out cold. When you tried to ask what was wrong, he’d simply snapped at you to leave him be and left your apartment so fast there could have been a fire under his ass. So, what did you do? Did you just not even try? He hadn’t made a move on you, had specifically said no when he saw you heading in the direction of the bedroom. But if he wasn’t here for sex what was he here for? It only added to your anxiety that you really had no clue what he wanted if it wasn’t your body he’d come for, and though part of you thought that should make you angry, another part of you hoped that that meant it was something more that he was after this time. The kind of more you wanted.

No. You had to try for him. You couldn’t let him go on like this. He didn’t have to fight the war in his head alone, not when you were here. At least, if he wanted to go it alone, he could have someone stable waiting with a safety net if he stumbled. For now you’d let him linger and soak in the tub, and you’d make the most out of the ingredients you had in the fridge. If he stayed, he could eat it off a plate. If he didn’t…well, you’d make some in a container in case. Pasta bake had always been your father’s speciality and it had been your favourite as a child, was still your comfort food now. Chicken and bacon sizzled, pasta boiled, and you grated the cheese to the rhythm of your favourite song playing softly on the radio while the milk and butter warmed on the stove. You snagged a piece of bacon from the wok and let the salty flavour burn your tongue.

With your masterpiece constructed and more cheese grated on top, you slid the dish into the oven for it to crisp up and set your timer, setting about washing the utensils next. It kept your hands busy, kept your mind from wandering too much, but even the sudsy water couldn’t quite keep your mind from ticking over. Why had Leon come here in the pouring rain? What had spooked him so badly he’d thought, in his less than coherent state, that he needed to be here in your apartment? Did the fact he’d come to you mean anything at all or did he just happen to be nearby? You put the saucepan a little harder than necessary into the rack when it slipped from your hands, jumping and cursing to yourself at the loud clang it had made.

“Y/N!” Leon almost roared your name in pure, abject terror. Eyes wide you rushed for the bathroom, hands still soapy and dripping water. He was already out of the bathtub, naked and scrambling through his jacket until he came up with a gun of all things, aimed right at you as you burst through the door. A shriek escaped you and you immediately dropped to the floor, hands above your head.

“Leon it’s me!” you begged. Harsh breathing filled the room.

“Where is it?” he demanded. You peeked up at him from below your arms, lowering them slowly. He was half-crouched, eyes wild and fixated on the door that led back to your room. He offered you a hand. “Come on, get up and get behind me, where is it?” he repeated the question more firmly now.

“Where’s what? Leon I – there’s only us here. I just dropped a saucepan.” You breathed. His expression faltered, confusion flooding his features first , then guilt, and finally grief. His eyes closed and he inhaled deeply, held it, exhaled slowly. He lowered his gun after a few more deep breaths.

“I’m sorry.” He said, looking a little like a kicked puppy. You shook your head, slowly pushing to your feet so as not to startle him. His skin was tinged pink, little suds clinging to the ends of his hair. The timer went off in the kitchen and Leon flinched again, hand tensing around the gun. You soothingly placed your hand on his arm.

“It’s just the timer. We’re the only people here Leon, nothing’s going to hurt us. How’s about you dry off and come have something to eat?” you suggested. He blanched at the mention of food and you frowned. “You don’t have to eat everything, just a little bit, you look really pale.” You reached for the towel and held it out to him until he reluctantly nodded and wrapped it around his waist. You left the door slightly ajar and headed for the kitchen to switch off the damn timer. He was so jumpy, so eager to jump to your defence. You plated up a small portion, not wanting to put him off with a large one. You didn’t feel particularly hungry yourself but you’d had a proper meal earlier in the evening, a cup of tea would suffice, camomile and honey would soothe your nerves. Leon had a liking for peppermint you knew. Maybe if he was nauseous that would help him eat? Tea and pasta bake served you sat opposite his place, one hand wrapped around the handle of your mug and the other pulled up to your mouth, your teeth nibbling the side of your nail.

“You’ll make your thumb sore.” He lingered in the doorway like he wasn’t sure if he should sit down or run away. You dropped your hand and placed a more welcoming smile on your lips, nodding to the plate.

“Chicken and bacon pasta bake. It’s good.” You invited. Hesitantly, Leon shuffled to the chair and sat down. You didn’t push him to talk. Months of being with Leon had assured you that pushing would only clam him up further, and you wanted to pry him open tonight. With a sinking feeling, you realised it might be the last night you ever saw him. He’d let himself be extremely vulnerable to you already and you weren’t the type of person to see this kind of trauma and let it go unchecked. You’d want to check in on him, you’d want to help him feel better, and Leon didn’t appreciate the questions you’d have to ask to get the kind of help he needed right. He sighed slightly, picking up the fork and taking a small bite. He looked physically sick for the first few mouthfuls, and you made an effort to distract him with small talk about the weather, your day and all its mundane happenings.

He seemed enraptured by your very voice, soaking in every syllable that crossed your lips and mindlessly working his arm and mouth to clear the plate and drain the mug in front of him.

“Can I have a bit more? It’s really good.” He surprised you with his request but you obliged him, spooning some more on his plate.

“If you’re that partial to it you can take some home to.” You said simply. He nodded once, clearing the second portion with ease and looking much better for it. The colour had returned to his cheeks and he looked a little more put together than before. You settled back in your chair, watched him clean his plate and put it in the drying rack. It was a courtesy you’d never have asked for but were grateful for nonetheless. He didn’t turn around though, keeping his back to you and tightening his grip on the countertop.

[moonbaby26]

Title: The Battle

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Continuation from last chapter. Set during X-Men: Age of Apocalypse, you and the others fly to Cairo to confront Apocalypse and his soldiers in an attempt to rescue Xavier.

Warnings: Apocalypse being a leg breaking, hero strangling jerk. Characters fighting for their lives, but bookended with fluff from Peter x Reader pairing.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp, @wintwrsoldiwr, @tommy-braccoli, @amourtentiaa

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

———————————

You’d at least gotten to clean up somewhat. Earlier as Hank and the new woman you’d just met, Moira, had worked on readying the jet, you’d found some bit of helpful supplies. Clean rags to wipe off the blood, and bandages that’d you’d hurriedly applied to your shallow claw wounds.

All the remnants of your restraints were gone, and your old, torn clothes you’d just tossed in favor of the thin jumpsuit and lightly armored black flight suit over the top of it. You all wore these suits, commandeered with this experimental jet now rumbling beneath you as you shot off to Cairo together.

There was silence for a good while, after some initial nervous chatter and joking from the others. It would have been too easy to fill this quiet with any of the myriad of questions still rushing through your brain, but you really had just listened and little more when they’d filled you in earlier with the gist of what they’d learned.

All that really mattered was that the Professor was being held captive by a seemingly omnipotent mutant. One that had now declared war on all and recruited his own powerful soldiers. This was a rescue mission, with likely all your lives at stake.

You leaned your head back, wondering if anyone else would really even know or care what had happened to you if you never came back from this.

The escape from Stryker’s lab had been life threatening as well of course, but it was so different when it’d just been one thing after another. Events unfolding too quickly to really develop any sense of dread, it’d been all adrenaline and luck really.

But even in a jet like this, flying all the way to Egypt was more than just a skip and a jump. It was well enough time to dwell on your own inexperience and shortcomings, to wonder if this was the last time you’d ever do anything at all.

“Hey,” Peter’s voice was quiet, just to you, as you glanced over, having been mired only in your own thoughts until that moment.

He was sitting beside you, both of you strapped in these jump seats that ran along both sides of the jet. Vaguely you realized the others had started talking once more as well then. Maybe that was why he felt more comfortable speaking to you again now.

He hadn’t addressed you directly since you’d reunited with the others. Though you wouldn’t blame him if he was just as nervous as you were deep down. But from his self deprecating jokes in front of your friends earlier, about still living at home with his mother, he would at least seem better at hiding fear if he did have any.

“Hey,” You answered back reflexively, looking at him fully again.

“So uh....” He was chewing a piece of gum, as if some part of him still had to stay in motion in order to remain comfortable. “That car, that was pretty sweet. That yours or what?”

Honestly it took you a very long, awkward pause before you could piece together any idea of what he was referring to. But being that you’d only known him since literally just earlier today, there wasn’t anything else he could possibly mean. “The yellow convertible?” You questioned anyway, not really surprised by much of anything now.

“Yeah, I mean, I take the road if there is one. I saw you guys on the way to the house,” He answered, still offering a little explanation regardless. “Looked like you knew what you were doing though.” There was a more sheepish grin emerging. “I was going to stop and say hey I guess. But then I saw the, you know, fireball coming out the house and all, had to go see what that was about. Save everybody or whatever...” He trailed off after a bit, maybe realizing that you were just letting him ramble.

It reminded you of how you’d acted with him during the whole lab fiasco. He seemed the more confident one down there, while you got easily flustered. You really wondered if having your friends here now was making the difference. As if he was more unsure of himself when there was a potential audience to hear what you might say back to him.

It was interesting, getting to put more of those pieces together, or at least starting to be able to when it came to him. For putting on the display of an extrovert, and if you could finally admit it, even him being an outright flirt, you felt more and more sure that that was only skin deep really. That was just the outer layer he protected himself with.

“It was one of the Professor’s cars,” You smiled genuinely, probably the first one since they’d told you where you were going in this jet and why. “We were on our way back from the mall.”

That warmth from you seemed to ease him back into his normal tone, maybe a slight relief in him that you didn’t find it off putting that he’d already taken notice of you before you even knew he was anywhere around.

“Oh, mallrat, huh?” He quipped, “I can picture that.”

He was teasing, but you gave it right back. “There is no way you can tell me that you don’t end up in music stores wherever you live, like a lot.” You hadn’t forgotten his band t-shirt after all. You thought you’d seen him putting away headphones at some point too. “And that leather jacket and pants you had? Come on, that didn’t come from some bargain clothes rack.”

You might have had him for just a moment there. Just a flicker of surprise in his eyes to know you really had paid him that much attention, before he retorted, “Hey, what’s the point of a fast car if it has no style, right?”

“Says the guy who most people can’t even see until he slows down.” But you were purposeful to make clear in your tone that that wasn’t an insult at all, just continuing a little more bravely afterward, “Though their loss I guess.”

There was no mistake then, he really did pause. You could feel the slightest bit of heat in your face again, but you were not about to take that back. Not when you didn’t even know what was really awaiting you all at the end of this flight.

And you were still the next one to speak, that resolve remaining. “If we make it out of this, maybe you can come with me back over there to our mall. Help me pick out some new stuff.” You tried not to make it sound funny, but on some cosmic level it still was. “Seeing as how my room and everything I owned was incinerated and all.”

“Deal.” He said immediately. Only a little afterward seeming to realize that maybe he sounded a bit too eager. He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “I mean, I’m pretty good at Ms. Pac Man too. They have an arcade, right?”

“Yes.” You answered, trying not to look too amused, and going along with him to help him feel more comfortable. “I can’t say I’m actually any good, but they do have a Flash Gordon pinball machine I always play. And a couple of air hockey tables. That’s my go-to.” No question with his speed that he would likely annihilate you on both. But the idea of being in a much simpler, safer place like that with him some day was a pleasant one right now.

“Oh yeah. I can show you a thing or two.” He was clearly back in his element then, looking smug once more.

“I’m sure you will.” You could only wonder if the god complex mutant and his lackeys you were now off to go challenge would have any idea that in the back of your mind you’d now be dreaming of a simple date in an arcade as extra motivation to get back home in one piece.

———————————

It wasn’t long before things had started spiraling in quick succession again. You’d all arrived in Cairo to find it essentially destroyed, save for what this fake god had already erected in monument to himself. A huge pyramid in the style of the ancient Egyptians, one he’d taken Xavier hostage inside.

It hadn’t been clear though how much of the destruction was done by this mutant, and how much had actually been at Magneto’s hands as it was with more shock that you’d found him in the middle of this as well. Now serving this apocalyptic mutant.

You knew enough about Magneto to both fear and respect him. Even though his history with the Professor went back so many years, Erik Lehnsherr as he was actually named was always more on the side of peace through violence. While Xavier preached ideals of tolerance and education for regular humans to one day accept mutant kind, Magneto thought them incapable of such, and had no qualms on preemptive strikes against non mutants as well as eye for an eye type vengeance.

But even for Magneto this seemed surprising. He would really just give Xavier up this way? As you’d gotten closer, Jean had sensed that Apocalypse (what you were now calling the new enemy in your own mind) intended to take over the Professor’s body, possessing him permanently to gain access to his mind control powers and become basically omniscient. He’d be unstoppable with everyone as his puppets then. Free will would cease to exist.

“You guys help Nightcrawler get into the pyramid!” Raven called back to all of you as the jet was landing. “Get Charles and I’ll take care of Erik.”

You’d snapped back to attention at the orders, and you saw that Peter was suddenly at her side.

He looked so focused all at once, “I can get you in there,” He told her, referring to the debris field of broken buildings and all else now churning, stuck in a huge magnetic orb with Magneto at its center. When she didn’t look sure, he continued quickly. “I came here for him, let me help you.”

Raven nodded to Peter then in agreement, knowing there was no time for more back and forth. “The rest of you, get Charles on this plane and get him out of here!”

You too knew what was at stake, there was no reason to argue, even if there still must have been concern on your face. You didn’t understand Peter’s change and sudden fixation on Magneto.

But it was only Kurt that spoke up immediately, yelling back to Raven and Peter, “We’re not leaving without you!”

Peter looked back at that, “Don’t worry.” In fact, you realized he was looking directly to you for one moment. “We’ll catch up.”

———————————

While Peter had sped Raven out of sight to try and reason with Magneto, Moira had stayed with the jet and Hank had come with you, Scott, Jean, and Kurt.

But as you all ran along the rubble, trying to make your way to the pyramid, it hadn’t been but moments until you encountered Apocalypse’s other soldiers, mutants set on stopping you all from interfering by any means necessary.

A tall, blonde man with wings made out of metal, a ninja seeming woman with a pinkish purple energy she could wield from her hand like a blade even while also carrying a katana, and a girl nearer your own age with stark white hair and seemingly the most power out of the three as she’d flown right towards you throwing lightning bolts from her hands.

You’d had no choice but to split up. Which you were sure was what they’d wanted even as you’d chosen to try and take the white haired girl’s attention. You didn’t really want to find out what would happen if one of those bolts struck you directly, but you could guess you had the best chance of anyone to maybe absorb some of it in your energy form.

You’d immediately powered up, glowing white as she’d chased you around the sky, both of you darting and flying in some kind of bizarre dog fight.

Your heart had been racing though, no amount of training at the mansion could actually prepare you for dueling with someone who actually wished to harm you. Everything to this point had just been about learning to control your powers, maybe even firing an energy blast at a dummy or paper target or two. But you’d never tried to hurt anyone. Not on purpose.

“Why are you helping him!?” You yelled out to her, swerving again as she tried to get close enough to you to land a hit. You generated an orb of light energy from one hand, letting it destabilize before you threw it towards her. It collapsed into itself, exploding to make a shockwave through the air that pushed her back again.

“He’s going to make it so we never have to hide what we are again!” She growled back in frustration, steadying herself in the air before her eyes hazed over into solid white.

You doubted that could be good, and of course it wasn’t as she raised her arms, a tornado like blast of wind then trying to knock you from the sky. You were able to shield yourself somewhat with your force fields, but the barrage of debris and wreckage that came with the winds made it too difficult to keep track of her as she did nearly land a direct lightning strike then.

“You’re wrong!” You yelled back, even as you felt numb and disoriented briefly, like the electricity surge was messing with your own energy. “He’s just using all of you! He only wants slaves, nothing more! And you’re just going to hand us all to him!”

She didn’t answer back after that, but you knew it wasn’t as if you could change anyone’s mind for them. She’d have to live with her own choices, just as you’d have to live with yours.

After a good while of this tit for tat though, you were really trying to take her out of the sky at last, knowing you needed to find and help the others as this had already been going on for far too long. You started trying to get her in the chest with white energy beam after energy beam shooting from your hands. She was fast, but you were able to at least get her in one shoulder at last as she spun with the force, losing altitude quickly with the hit.

Even as she fell, you could see her already correcting course though, trying to take aim at you again as she glared upwards.

But you didn’t get to see what happened next. A three fingered hand grasped your left arm suddenly from thin air, and then you were collapsing onto the floor of the jet you’d come here in.

“Gotcha, time to go!” Kurt spoke quickly as you looked to him in surprise, that strange burning smell hanging in the air briefly that always accompanied his teleporting. It was as instant a feeling as moving with Peter, but thankfully without the subsequent vertigo as you stood quickly, powering down, even as you were already looking around for the speedster.

With relief you did see Jean cradling the Professor’s head as they sat on the floor, Xavier unconscious but still breathing. But you did not see Peter or Raven.

Moira and Hank were already firing up the jet engines and you grabbed hold to the wall as you felt the craft quickly rising. “What about Peter and Raven?” You called out over the noise of the turbines spooling up faster and faster.

“We’ll have to trust them to figure it out, we’ve got to get Charles out of here now!” Hank answered back, leaving no room for debate.

You felt an unease building in your stomach, but it was true that if Apocalypse got Xavier, that Peter, Raven, or anyone else would then no longer matter anyway. At least for now you could hope Peter would just take Raven and run somewhere far from here. Xavier and Jean could use their psychic abilities to find them later and you could reunite.

But a hard thud above you left you all looking upward as the jet rattled.

“What the hell was that!?” Moira called out.

As soon as you saw that pinkish energy blade emerging through the jet’s hull, you had already powered up again, glowing and ready to shield the others as best you could. Apocalypse’s soldiers were proving too difficult to shake.

Yet Jean had other plans, “Everyone, grab onto Kurt!” She yelled.

You didn’t know what altitude you were already at, but you knew it wasn’t a survivable one for the jet itself if it was ditched now. Yet a fight in this close of quarters with all your powers would likely end in the same result. So her choice wasn’t as irrational as it first seemed.

You reached one hand quickly back, firmly grabbing onto Kurt’s shoulder, even as you kept your other hand raised towards where the metal winged mutant and the blade wielding woman were now trying to force their way in through the breach they’d created in the hull.

“I’ve never done it with this many people!” Kurt warned as you all held to him.

“Get us out of here!” Jean commanded, her desperation bringing out a forcefulness you hadn’t yet seen from her.

But Kurt was still straining, the sound of his opening whatever portal he used clearly heard but not bringing you anywhere as he tried several times.

The man with the metal wings jumped down into the cockpit, now just feet away as you realized what you had to do.

“Go without me!” You screamed over the rush of wind now coming through the hull breach. You let go of Kurt, making direct eye contact with Jean.

You could get out on your own. At least you were going to try. It was the only way. Kurt wasn’t able to take you all.

You felt that Jean was listening, that she heard your thoughts and that as difficult as it was, she agreed just as quickly. It was the only way.

“Do it!” She urged Kurt even through the horrified look he gave you both.

“I’m taking it down.” You also heard her voice say in your head almost simultaneously. That briefest warning to ready yourself before she willed the controls to throw the plane into a nosedive and cause Apocalypse’s soldiers to lose their footing.

The last you saw of your other friends was still their shocked and frightened expressions as they disappeared from right in front of you. But this was your only chance as well, propelling yourself as fast you could, right through the fading cloud of gas they left behind and past the now tumbling winged mutant as all your focus went to that small square of sunlight that they’d cut into the hull.

It was your one window of survival. For just the briefest moment, you felt him try to grab hold of your leg as you flew past him. But you kicked him with the other leg as hard as you could manage, breaking free into the open air as the jet plummeted on without you.

Out the corner of your eye you saw the woman had remained on the outside of the jet, but jumped free from it as well. You lost sight of her as you both fell, focusing only on trying to slow your descent to a survivable speed. It was one thing to levitate yourself up from a neutral position, and wholly another to try and control your energy field around yourself enough to reverse the terminal velocity transferred to you from being within a crashing plane.

The ground still came too fast, too hard. You blacked out on impact, laying alone in the dirt as your light energy faded, receding back inside you.

————————————

An unknown time later, something jolted you awake. You could hear screaming as you opened your eyes. You were laying on your side. Everything hurt and you could taste blood in your mouth.

But you were already forcing yourself back up as you swallowed. Disoriented as you were, you still recognized that voice. It was Peter. He was hurt.

You were looking all around you, and it didn’t take long to see the source and reason for the screams.

Not far from you at all, Apocalypse stood in a clearing from all the rubble. Peter right beside him, half crumpled to the ground. One of Peter’s feet was encased in the earth, trapping him there like an animal in a snare. His other leg was clearly broken, twisted at a grossly unnatural angle.

You felt a foreign rage beginning to burn up inside you, but before you could even physically react you saw the woman with the katana again. Nowhere in your mind did you take any time to consider how she would look so clean and uninjured having just come from the same circumstances as you of barely escaping the crashing jet.

All you saw was her walking towards her master, sword at the ready to finish Peter.

“Stop, (Y/N)!”

Charles screaming inside your head was the only thing that kept you from revealing yourself at that moment.

“It’s Raven! I’m telling you, it’s Raven!” Even Charles was struggling to break through your flaring emotions, as he repeated himself desperately. “He’ll kill you, (Y/N)! Stay in place, I beg you!”

The Professor had never spoken to you in such a way before. You gripped onto the broken wall in front of you, still only just obscured from their view as you saw Apocalypse grab Peter by the hair, jerking the young man’s head back roughly to expose his throat to the woman.

“It’s Raven, please trust her!” Charles did not let go. You could feel him actually starting to control you even, something he had absolutely never done before, though your emotions were exploding like they also never had. He didn’t want you to make a life ending mistake.

“(Y/N), please.” He called again and you realized you were being held in place, unable to move out any further. You were forced to only watch as the woman raised her blade, Peter wincing in fear and pain beneath her as she swung it.

But it was only Apocalypse’s throat that ripped open. Yet even in your surprise, any sense of victory was still non existent. No blood poured from the wound, and it healed completely within moments as he only grabbed his supposed traitor by the neck, holding her up immediately.

Raven’s feet hung in the air while she choked, her blue skin and true appearance quickly returning as she could no longer control her disguise as Apocalypse strangled her.

And it was only then that you felt Xavier letting go of you, in his own shock as Apocalypse tried to bait him out.

“Charles! Come! Rescue your weaklings!” Apocalypse challenged aloud, still dangling the now helpless Raven while Peter stayed trapped at their feet. “Give your life for theirs!”

He was going to kill her right in front of you. You powered up, knowing there was no other choice. You had to-

“No. I’m still connected to him. Let me get in his head, (Y/N), then you can go to them.” The professor spoke quickly, yet with a touch of new resolve.

“Charles! Will you do nothing?” The false god continued to bellow.

This time you listened without being forced to. You did see Apocalypse pause as if Xavier was indeed making contact. It was still an agonizing wait, but when he finally let go of Raven, you allowed yourself some shred of hope. You’d never seen anyone be able to overpower the Professor mentally, once he was fully in.

But that hope was also short lived as just moments later Apocalypse raised his hand abruptly. At will he dissolved the outer wall of a nearby building. You could see Scott and Hank then exposed, themselves just as surprised and staring out. But you knew it could only mean that Apocalypse had used Xavier’s connection against him just that quickly to root out his hiding place.

This could be the end then. You resigned yourself that the only choice was to die fighting if that is what it had to be. But you weren’t as alone as you thought.

As Apocalypse had left Peter and Raven behind, now striding confidently to his prize, two massive steel beams suddenly shot into his path. They buried themselves into the ground, crossing into an X to block him.

You looked back into the sky, glad in this single moment that you had been right about at least one thing. Magneto wouldn’t give Xavier up in the end. Not without bloodshed anyway.

“You betray me?” Apocalypse asked, already turning to deal with Erik instead.

“No. I betrayed them.” Magneto unleashed hell then, every bit of metal he could pull shooting towards Apocalypse in an unending assault as the other raised a shield that incinerated each and every piece as it hit. But doing so clearly taxed him, allowing the perfect moment for the rest of you to join the battlefield.

You got to Peter almost simultaneously as Hank got to Raven. You and Beast were clearly in the same mindset of getting the injured out of the immediate firefight before you would join in.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, the Professor froze me,” You spoke in quick apology to Peter, using a small energy blast to break up the earth that had been hardened around his trapped foot. Once cracked, you broke the rest of it free just with your fingers.

He was obviously surprised, grateful, and maybe even confused all at once as you gently lifted him with the help of your powers. You wrapped his arm around your shoulders, trying to mind his broken leg as you helped support him while gliding over to a safer spot some distance away.

“Stay here.” You spoke, sitting him down so his back was against a mostly still standing wall to shelter them.

Hank was sitting Raven down in the same manner beside him as Peter suddenly spoke up to you. “Wait.”

You were still crouched in front of him, you’d been about to stand back up when his hand went around the back of your neck and pulled you in closer.

Before you could register anything else, you felt his lips press against yours. It was a bit harsh, desperate even, and then it was over just as fast as you pulled back in surprise.

“In case we don’t ever get to make it to that arcade,” he responded to your shocked expression that was still evident even in your energy form like this.

You took a breath, now was not the time for verbalizing any of this. But you wanted to show you agreed with the sentiment. You leaned back in, kissing him yourself for one longer moment, one hand gently cupping the side of his face before you stood back up. He allowed the contact readily and you could only wonder what it felt like to him when you were enveloped in light like this.

Hank and Raven just gave you both the most confused of looks, but nothing was said as you and Beast had then rushed back off to throw yourselves into the fight.

——————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

[summonerscenarios]

So, mc adopting at least one of each of the Child mobs, how would that go?

IT MAY BE 4AM BUT THAT'S NEVER STOPPED ME BEFORE LETS DO SOME MF HCS.

Sadly I was only able to work on two of the mob kiddos as I didn't want this to get too long but I still hope its okay~!

Also just a heads up a lot of this is a pure waffle of information based on my own interpretations of the mobs so here's hoping I did a good job with them lmao.

---------

It wouldn’t have been the first time you’d ended up inadvertently adopting someone, nor will it be the last knowing your luck. It’s not like you intentionally do anything to draw people to you, it just so happened that the things that you did and situations you got wrapped up in led to you getting to know all kinds of people in the process. And those people saw you in all kinds of ways - most saw you as friends, others saw someone else in you, more than a few made no attempts to hide their blatant flirting - and, rarely, a few would even see you as a role model,a mentor or parental figure to look up to.

You honestly have no idea why, after all, it’s not as though you go out of your way to make particularly responsible decisions (if anything, you get yourself in enough trouble that you’d imagine you’re anything but a role model) but a lot of the younger transients and students seem to flock towards your presence, looking for comfort, advice, or just someone who respects them. At first it was just the younger members of your guild that you technically took under your wing - as the Guildmaster you assumed it was only natural to look out for them, and you’d long gotten used to protecting Agyo and Kijimuna, wanting to make sure that the only thing they had to worry about was having the chance to be kids rather than getting dragged into the Guild’s app-based affairs. It’s not like responsible parental figures are easy to come by in this world of app-battles and fighting, so that’s perhaps why when you start taking a more protective, nurturing role with the younger ones that more of them begin popping up.

Surprisingly, the ghosts are some of the first mob children that you noticed began flocking towards you. Roaming spirits are unusual but certainly not rare, and it honestly breaks your heart a little to see so many young ghosts lingering around in the unexplored corners of the city, searching for one thing or another. Things feel...off, for a while before you can pin down the issue - you start feeling as though you’re being watched when you’re in the guildhouse by someone other than your teammates, and when your attempts to shake off the uneasy feeling doesn’t work, you decide to bring it up to your fellow Guild members in case it’s someone trying to spy. You want to make sure it’s not someone who can bring danger to the guild, but you don’t have much of a chance to set up a search of the building when the D-evils come tottering into your field of view, screeching up a storm and motioning towards an otherwise unassuming corner of the window.

Turns out you weren’t the only one noticing the other presence, as Shiro’s D-evils seem to have picked up on it to - and when your attention snaps over to the window to see what they’re pointing to you barely catch a glimpse of the flickering figure of a ghost child as they disappear from view. From that point on you start spotting the child more often - he’s shy or wary, always lingering someone just out of the corner of your eye but never getting any closer almost like he’s afraid. He seems to have taken an interest in you though, especially whenever the younger guild members come around to spend time at the guild, and it isn’t long before you notice that he’s intently watching the way you watch over and care for the kids of the guild - he looks almost sad in these instances, but never dares to get any closer and disappears as soon as you turn to look at him. Over time it becomes almost normal to have a resident ghost at the guild (though Agyo still shudders at the mention of ghosts despite having seen the kid plenty of times since arriving). He seems to be more at ease after a while of watching you, and things finally come to a head one day when you’re playing videogames with Hanuman and the other kids, noticing that the little ghost has wandered far closer than he’d ever done in the past, watching the small screen setup on the floor with an avid interest that seems far happier than the forlorn looks he’d had before. Taking a chance you tilt your head to look over at the ghost child, motioning him to come over and join; he disappears for a moment, startled, but right as you start to worry you may have scared the kid off he rematerializes, inching hesitantly closer and closer till he’s hovering beside the rest of your group, eyes fixed to the characters on screen with a child-like wonder.

You aren’t quite sure how this ended up with you adopting the ghost child yourself. It’s just one day you were talking about how you were pretty much adopted by the teachers at school and how you’d like to pay it forward some day, and the next you were talking about ‘son’ this, and ‘might as well take the kid under your wing’ that - you were practically acting like an impromptu parent for like a fifth of the people you knew anyway, so what was actually adopting a child? Toji had just about choked to death when you’d made the unfortunate decision to announce that fact mid-drink, and Shiro spent more than his fair share of time probing you with the legal questions surrounding a student adopting a child, ghost transient or not. Ryota seems incredibly excited by the idea however, gushing about being an uncle and wondering if your new son can eat and if so what his favorite food is - plenty of questions for a later time.

Ghost is certainly the most clingy of the children you end up adopting, and it’s clear from the get go in the sense that the poor little one is essentially glued to your side from the moment you take the venture to actually adopting him. With few things remaining in the physical world to cling onto, the familial bond is something that the little one cherishes and he absolutely refuses to budge on letting it, and by proxy, you, go. For a while he actually fears you’re going to leave him and take back what you said about protecting him and being a good parent. He of course had parents once, and their lack of presence at his side now paints a tragic picture no matter what way you look at it, so the kids got more than a few attachment issues you need to work through. Ghost doesn’t really talk too much, instead relying on gestures and interacting with things around him to talk to you and others - it takes a little bit to get used to if you’re unfamiliar with some of the gestures but it’s easy to pick up as time goes on.

Definitely one of the more well behaved children of the bunch, given that once you’ve convinced him that you’re not abandoning him he’s dead set on making you proud. He gets antsy when you’re not around, spending most of his time at the guild when you're at classes, but he takes to following Agyo around instead during these times. Agyo’s more than a little startled at first, and is a bit awkward about the whole situation as he processes it, but before long Agyo’s not only getting along with your ghostly son, but he’s also teaching him the ‘lion dog duties’ that he’s been teaching you - you’ll never quite forget walking in to Agyo giving the poor kid a detailed rundown on the upkeep of the guildhouse and all that it pertains.

It was supposed to only be the one child, you swear, but damn if you haven’t got a bleeding heart and a knack for attracting trouble. Word travels around fast about your adoption, and as more people learn about your impromptu push to parenthood people start coming to you for help - namely, kids with nowhere else to go. Maybe it’s your bleeding heart or savior complex, but before long one kid becomes two, and then two becomes three, and soon enough you’ve got four kids on your hands.

There’s no denying that things get a little bit rocky when you start taking in other children. Despite the other kids in the guild, Ghost has technically been the only child up to this point, and with your attention shifting from both him and the other children at once it’s a sudden change - one that you thankfully discussed with him first to make sure he was okay. Even with the okay though, Ghost is more than a little anxious when you bring the second child, a nether sprite, ‘home’, especially because of how loud she is by comparison. Nether sprite is an absolute ball of energy and mischievous to boot, so she more than makes for an interesting parallel to the otherwise quiet Ghost you’ve been taking care of the past few months.

She’s a handful, especially during the first few weeks that she’s settling in - it takes her a while to really start seeing the place as home, and even longer for her to even consider you a parental figure (she’s seen you as more of a babysitter till you proved you were willing to stick around and put the effort in to be a good parent). Once she does settle in however she takes to the place quickly, and, to your surprise, your two kids become thick as thieves. The Nether sprite catches on quickly to how Ghost communicates, and given his penchant to linger around those he’s close to and follow them around she’s more than happy to drag him all over the shop from one activity to another - it’s a surprising development but one you actively encourage. Unfortunately as I mentioned she’s still mischievous, though tones it down from anything too troublesome if it’ll cause you too much grief.

However that hasn’t stopped the amount of times you’ve gotten calls from someone about the kind of trouble you two little ones have wound up getting themselves into - looks like they both picked up your knack for getting intentionally and unintentionally dragged into the weirdest events (sure, it’s fun when you do it, but having your kids doing it only serves to give you grey hairs from the stress.) And things only get crazier once the other kids end up coming along, for both better and worse - but that’s a story for another time.

[ikingsley]

Ina x MC: My Star

Ina x MC: My Star

Summary: Ina and Luna take their relationship to the next level.

Warnings: Fluff! So much fluff.

Tag: @samanthadalton @domakir @kulaykape @hellyeah90sbaby @dopeyouth @kwaj05 @thedaft1​ @swimmingshoebakerydreamer @kaitlynliaofanxx (Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed)​

Author’s Notes: Events after the gala in QB Ch 16. Unfortunately, I have been busy with school and work, but I’ve still been writing. I’ve been working on a new series, one that tells about Ina and Luna’s future together. Here’s the start to their future relationship.

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

May 3 @5:42 PM

Ina: Hey. I have a little something for you. Do you want to swing by my place and pick it up? Maybe stay for dinner too?

Luna picked up her phone, reading the message. They had been together officially for a few months now, but the gala had in a way halted their progress. It’d been a few weeks since Ina and Luna had truly been together for a date. Conversations through texts and FaceTime calls that lasted well into the night did occur frequently, but nothing of the romance the two had grown used to. Neither one knew how to approach the delicate situation they found themselves in. 

Luna: I’ll be there.

Luna walked quickly to her dorm, grabbing a hoodie. She trudged over to Ina’s apartment and waited patiently on the other side of the door. Ina opened it and gave her that million-dollar smile. 

“Hey,” Luna breathed out, her breath hitching after seeing Ina physically after weeks.

“Luna. You’re looking as radiant as ever. Come inside.”

Ina’s glance to the outside world did not go unnoticed. It was if she was searching for someone watching her. Not finding anyone who caught her attention, Ina closed the door and bolted it as she welcomed Luna inside.

“You know, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“You finished your first year at Belvoire. I think that deserves some celebration.”

Luna looked around, taking in Ina’s apartment once more. Then she smelled it.  She looked around the kitchen and saw the oven light on.

“Is Ina ‘I-Burned-Pasta’ Kingsley cooking?”

“Well, attempting to. I have some chicken in there.”

“Color me impressed. Does that chicken happen to be for me?”

“No,” Ina chimed in, turning around to attend to her food. “It’s for a twin sister you never knew you had that I also happen to be going out with.”

Luna only rolled her eyes at Ina in reaction, but reached forwards to hug her from behind.

“I missed you,” Luna whispered into Ina’s ear.

Ina spun Luna around and stared intensely into her eyes. “And I, you. Our FaceTimes weren’t enough for me. I don’t know what happens next with my future at Belvoire, but I know I want my future with you.”

Ina pressed a kiss against Luna’s temple. The timer went off and Ina pulled the chicken out of the oven.

“Me too. I-” Luna stopped.

Ina stopped and swiveled around waiting to hear those three words. “I…what?” Ina questioned. And how she longed to hear those words uttered from Luna’s mouth. Ina heard them frequently from Lilian and Charlotte, but she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d heard it from a partner. Excluding Luna, it’d been so long since she’d felt that kind of intimacy.

“I…I wonder what we have to accompany this chicken!” Luna diverted.

“Oh. I forgot to tell you. I have some broccoli in there too. Maybe I have some…wait- this went bad.” Ina dumped the rotten spinach in the trash. “Yeah, only broccoli.”

“That’s perfect.”

Soon, Ina placed a full plate in front of Luna and settled beside her. They took their first bite and surprised was only one way to describe the taste.

“This is uh…interes-” Luna remarked as she politely forced herself to swallow a portion of the food.

“You don’t need to-”

“Thanks.” Luna ejected what was left of the chicken from her mouth like it were a toxin.

“So, pizza?” Ina said and sputtered out the chicken. It was bone dry and there was too much seasoning of all sorts. Too many things had been combined.

“Please. No offense.”

“None taken. It’s the thought that counts, no?”

“You’re improving every time I see you cook, so let’s call it progress,” Luna smiled as she patted Ina’s shoulder. She stood up to grab her phone and order pizza.

Ina sighed and flopped on the couch. She so desperately wanted this night to go well. She herself was nervous. Ina had spent the previous nights tossing and turning. It finally had dawned on her that she was in love with Luna. Ever since she met her she’d slowly been falling more and more under Luna’s spell. Now she was completely enraptured by her. The simple facial features that morphed into an infectious smile. The way her nose crinkled when she laughed at Ina’s horrible jokes and witty banter. The way Luna caressed her face as she swept her into a kiss. Everything had been coming together.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Luna asked while she sat down next to Ina indicating she had just gotten off the phone for pizza delivery.

“Just...contemplating everything surrounding us. I’ve come to understand what’s truly important to me, which ultimately boils down to Lil, Charlotte and you of course. I don’t dislike my job, but maybe this is an opportunity for me to try and search for a more research-based career rather than actively teaching.”

Ina stood up, grabbing a small, elegantly wrapped rectangular box.

“I care for you too, Ina,” Luna smiled. “You so did not wrap this by the way.”

“Hey! I’ve gotten better at gift wrapping.”

“Not this good-”

“Oh hush, you. Open it.”

Luna meticulously pulled off the wrapping. Inside was a small framed poster. The poster had a big circle right in its center with some stars in it.

“Ina, this is beautiful. Is this-?”

“The stars on the day we met.”

“I don’t know what to say, babe. It’s...it’s perfect. I love you. I mean, I love it! Yeah! I love it.”

The silence that followed was highly drawn out. Both - who could talk a mile a minute when they were excited or passionately ranting - were dead silent. Ina replayed the moment in her head over and over. Had she heard right?

Luna was more bewildered with herself. She’d been too used to toxic, quickly-ending high school relationships. But as more time passed since she’d let the cat out of the bag, the more she realized that this somewhat spur-of-the-moment confession had more truth in it than anything she’d ever said before. She did love Ina. She loved the way Ina would tell her about her day, getting particularly loud during both the best and worst parts of the day. She loved the way Ina made her laugh or actually kept up with her nerdy discussions. She loved the way Ina would leave anything she was doing if Luna needed something. She loved the way Ina cared for Luna during her stressful finals and tended to her every need. She loved the way Ina balanced her so well. 

But deep down, Luna was scared. Scared of being hurt again. Scared of loving someone who only loved her if she acted in a certain way. But that someone wasn’t Ina. She’d found more of herself through Ina. And she’d found something she deserved in a relationship - a mutual respect.

“Can I crash here? I’m pretty tired.”

“Yes, but Luna...”

“Good night!”

“Wait-”

Ina’s urgency made Luna swivel around and she finally met Ina’s eyes. They were full of admiration, love, happiness.

“Did you mean it, Luna?”

“Mean...what?”

“You know.”

“Well, words are a tricky thing. After all, there’s a whole branch of anthropology that focuses on linguistics. It’s very complex!”

Ina hummed softly. “Yes, well...good night.” Ina pressed a chaste kiss on Luna’s forehead and Luna began to turn around to the bedroom. “I love you, Lu.”

Again, Luna stopped in her tracks. “What?”

“I love you, Garcia,” she grinned. “Come here.”

Luna ran towards Ina as she swept her in her arms. Luna jumped into Ina pressing her lips against Ina’s. Ina carried Luna’s small frame and paraded her around the apartment, often breaking their kiss with more admissions of love.

“I love you, Ina. With all my heart. You know pieces of my past and so I was scared to say it. I know we haven’t officially been together for long, but what I feel for you, it’s beyond anything I’ve ever felt before. I am...deeply in love with you, however scary it may seem.”

“Read the caption under the stars, my love.”

Quietly, Luna descended from Ina’s arms and picked up the poster she’d just been gifted. Under the stars was a small quote. 

I love you, what star do you live on? - Conrad Aiken 

Ina Kingsley and Luna Garcia

The Day the Stars Aligned. September 6, 2020 | 4 AM | Dreams Diner, New York 

“I love you so much you big nerd,” Luna beamed and wiped away the tears that began forming at the corner of her eyes. “I love you, Ina Kingsley.”

“Sol.”

“Sun? My name, Luna, means moon in Spanish. But I guess I’m your sun too.”

“You are. By the way, I know that, Lu.” Luna gave her a ‘really? are you sure about that’ look. “I am fluent in Spanish thank you very much! I learned it before English!”

“As did I,” Luna retorted.

“Right, well. My middle name. It’s Sol.”

~

A few months later...

“I can’t believe I’m here,” Ina laughed.

“Honestly, same.”

“What? You basically coerced me into coming!” Ina exclaimed. “I thought we were going to the museum.”

“We will after if you’re up to it. And you would’ve come regardless. You love me too much.”

“Touché.”

“Such a little simp.”

“And?”

“No, nothing,” Luna said quickly. She proceeded to whisper simp once again under her breath.

A strong, tatted man opened the dark curtains, letting the establishment soak in the sunlight.

“How can I help you?” he asked.

“We’re here for tattoos!” Luna said happily.

“Yes, well, we are at a tattoo parlor,” Ina retorted.

“Sorry. Don’t mind her. She’s just grumpy all the time.”

Ina made a face at Luna, her brows furrowed in frustration. Just through that look, Luna knew not to pester Ina once more. She gave her a ‘you’re in trouble when we get home’ look.

“You both are willingly getting tattoos?” the man asked. It was definitely more directed towards Ina.

Bashfully, Ina nodded. Never in a million years did she think she’d do this. A tattoo. Jesus Christ. Luna was right. If she pulled out a Merriam-Webster dictionary, she knew she’d find a full page photo of herself next to the word simp - a word they’d specifically added just for her.

“What are you guys looking for? Something small, something big? Something plain, something colorful?”

Who was this man? Dr. Seuss’s son? Ina thought to herself.

“Just something small. Maybe on my hip or something,” Luna answered for the both of them as Ina nodded in agreement.

As fun as this little bonding activity was, both women were professionals. Nothing could be too blatantly obvious. Potentially hypothetically, Ina couldn’t have her students ask her about her new tattoo rather than anthropology.

“Do you guys have any designs you want me to copy?” the man asked as he put on gloves.

“Umm...I didn’t have anything in specific in mind. Maybe her name or something that reminds me of her? A rose maybe?” Luna began rambling as her thoughts took over.

The two women stood aside in silence, pondering what they would get. It was unlike them - they were always prepared for everything.

“Hey, Luna,” Ina turned to face her partner. “Why don’t we get a sun and moon?”

“Aww, Ina,” she smiled.

Goddamn those heart eyes, Ina thought.

“Okay, why don’t you get a moon and I’ll get a sun,” Luna said. “That way I’ll always be reminded of you, and you me.”

“I’d like nothing more, my love.”

And after being called a baby multiple times by Luna and a few blaring yelps - mostly on Ina’s part - they were permanently linked by ink. 

“I love you but I am never ever doing that again, Luna.”

[rpbetter]

I'm so tired of roleplaying with people who don't put half the commitment I do into our threads and muses. I'm so tired of feeling like I'm a weirdo or like I don't belong for that. Any other hobby and people wouldn't care if I took it seriously. Why is roleplaying different? How can I keep going like this if I'm getting rudeness from all sides? I can't even go outside my already tiny bubble and find more partners, because I always see people putting roleplayers like me down and it's exhausting.

"Why is roleplaying different?"

Well, Anon, I know that was a rhetorical question, but I have some thoughts on that. To the surprise of no one!

I strongly believe that this is an issue with how fandom has come to dominate roleplaying. As I've said before, it really wasn't always like that. Of course, you always had canon characters and almost all RPers were invested in a fandom or two. The difference was that online RP was once viewed much more like tabletop RPGs are.

When the RPC became a near-total offshoot of Fandom, a lot of shit changed and very rapidly...and within Fandom, a lot of shit was changing very rapidly as well at that time.

RP has always been something looked down on (though, at least no one ever accused written RP online of being literally demonic like they did DnD, or made correlations to murder sprees like they did LARPing, so there's that) as strange, not the good, understandable sort of dorky.

Part of that is almost certainly because of the difference in the way society views writing vs the way it views hobbies like gaming - writing is seen as an intellectual pursuit and a job, gaming, even at its most negative points of view in wider society, has been seen traditionally as a downtime activity only.

But. RP was not looked down upon from within Fandom or in roleplay communities themselves like it is now.

When the whole experience of fandoms themselves became extremely mainstream and open, it welcomed in a ton of shit ideas and behaviors that were not previously prevalent. It changed RP, too, along many of those same lines.

When your hobby is considered objectionably weird by people within the fandoms you love and RP in and that makes you a sort of lowest-tier fan, the viewpoint of RP to RPers becomes something lesser than a valid hobby. When RPers are the same people who engage with Fandom monetarily, anything not monetized is passively consumable content, including RP. And RPers are trying to both deflect shame and struggling with wider society's mixed messages, that now hit them everywhere online as well. Shit like, "you don't have to monetize your hobby, it's okay to just make really good cross stitches of memes for yourself" and "if you're not paying me, you have no control over me."

We seriously do not view RP as a proper hobby anymore, that's why. There are many factors to that, those are just few, but that's the ultimate answer. It's not seen that way because it's not valued in the same way.

I think much of the problem with muns losing their entire shit over anyone else approaching the hobby differently, dare I say...more seriously, is related to a lot of complex psychology about self-esteem, control, and anxiety. So many people here struggle with serious self-worth and confidence issues, and I think to many of them, whether they realize it or not, when they see serious RPers, they feel like that's an inherent judgment and a danger to their own enjoyment. Because RP, as writing, is a skilled hobby - the more you practice it, the more skilled you become with it. Meaning that someone who approaches the writing seriously is going to be at a higher skill level.

Enter the way we're training to think about writing again - when they see someone who is very practiced, skilled, and confident with their writing, the learned idea is that they're somehow superior in a nasty, personal way.

I most certainly do not think that makes it alright, it isn't, and I'm not very tolerant of it.

It's absolutely alright to engage with RP in any way you see fit. If that's extremely casual, it's a minor hobby for you, that's great! I'm so happy you're enjoying yourself, and I mean that in no facetious way. But not when that is the only form of it respected and accepted. It's just as alright to have RP as your primary, serious hobby!

The only way we can all enjoy a hobby with such great variance within it is by respecting each other's variables, not by vilifying them. It's recognizing that, no matter how much you enjoy the mun and/or muse, they're not engaging with the hobby in the way you are, it's not a good fit to write together. (Please, begging y'all to be friends with those who are different, not enemies, shit's sake. You've not got to write together to be friends!) Instead of labeling them and being hateful. Different =/= a threat.

And, to go off a bit lol y'all demonizing serious RPers really don't get that there are some intense tones of ableism and more going on in that narrative of yours, huh?

Not that anyone requires a reason to be serious about any hobby, but when people pick a hobby like RP as their primary one...you should probably have the maturity to consider why that is. Could it be that they focus on a hobby they can do from their homes and that requires low physical involvement, and has a degree of separation from direct socializing, for a reason?

Serious RPers tend to be limited in their ability to pursue other hobbies. Mental and physical health, region, finances, and ability to spend time outside of the home are all very common limits for those who "take RP too seriously/are addicted to RP."

Maybe take five seconds away from your own issues to consider that the person you're shitting on for something so minor as a difference of importance of a hobby might be the full-time caretaker of a special needs child, having to remain home and on a very small income. They might be chronically ill or suffer from agoraphobia. They might live in an area with no hobbies of interest, affordability, or at all...or they might live somewhere that is incredibly dangerous for them.

I honestly do not know where these people have been that they've been aggressed at by serious RPers, but that's usually the excuse. (I'm not saying it has never happened or does not happen, before anyone goes there.) The idea that serious RPers are extreme elitists who are demanding that other muns do what they do, how they do it. That they expect other muns to be online and RPing all the time, that they be "available for entertainment at all times" at the cost of real-life matters. Having the expectation that threads not be dropped constantly or that a writing partner not leave for months with no contact is neither of those things.

In over two decades of RPing across almost every platform type that has existed, I have literally never seen that be either a singular RPer-type problem or one that serious RPers are even more likely to deal in. I've seen the opposite, actually. Which is not a condemnation or a statement that all casual RPers do this, just what my experience has been. And one that actually stands to reason based on the way they view and engage with RP - quick replies, quick entertainment, and very low commitment to threads, muses, or other muns. Of course, it's annoying to them when a more serious RPer is unwilling to do rapid-fire style quick, short threads from an ask with them, but is writing the lengthy replies they already owed instead.

That's probably a factor as well, in here among a plethora of misunderstanding/unawareness of differences - for many serious RPers, it's not easier and more fun to write short, quick threads. So, what a casual RPer is seeing is that they're willing to put all this extraordinary effort into a massive reply to someone else while their easy, fun, quickly done thread is waiting in line.

Misunderstandings and unawareness breed hostility, period. And there is a hell of a lot of those things in the RPC.

What serious RPers are expressing are either boundaries/expectations or frustration. Not a demand that you be around all the time, but an expectation that you leave them alone if you're not also a serious RPer who will be committed to threads and muses. Not hostility and elitism, the frustration that it's already difficult to find muns who will work out before you add in the majority rule of casual RPers.

It's incredibly disheartening, frustrating, and honestly, a bit anxiety-inducing to constantly be the weird one, always have few choices, and to be at risk of being Problematic purely because you take the hobby seriously. You can't vent without someone jumping on your ass to remind you (even if you said numerous times that "real life comes first" and "people can do what they want") that omg, people have lives, people can do what makes them happy, it's just RP.

It's so upsetting when you think you might have found a good writing partner, then, you see a PSA they've reblogged about how it's a "hobby, not a jobby," and "no one owes anyone anything, ever." Excuse me, as that last one is a direct quote, let me redo it so it is verbatim: "no one owes anyone here anything - EVER !!!"

I said I wasn't very tolerant :)

But seriously, exactly what you've expressed is why I'm not...it's another form of controlling others instead of trying your best to control your own experience, and it's often extremely hateful. I'm not tolerant of anything like that, it's no longer supporting preferences at that point. When your preference is the only one that will be tolerated in the community, it's not a preference anymore.

It's something that makes others feel isolated, afraid of harassment, and depressed. It is a hobby and it isn't supposed to make you feel like that!

And, no, absolutely the fuck not lol the "answer" to this isn't that you're taking it too seriously and need to take a break. I'm so tired of seeing that shit tacked onto RPH responses and vents and PSAs. You're not saying that RP is making you feel this way, "just take a break and come back when you agree with everyone else" isn't a solution.

Of course, if you do feel like your time here has become so upsetting? Yeah, obviously, you should try to find some other things to supplement your downtime that make you feel happier again. Engage in some other forms of writing just meant for yourself, or that can be published as fics. Spend some more time on a game you enjoy for a while, or get invested in a new one. Learn to shape bonsai or make no-knead rolls. Whatever would make you happy as a hobby when you're not here.

Other than that, however, well...we're not going to be implying on this blog that you're too serious and need to take a hiatus until you have no emotional investment in your hobby. That's insane. I'd not say it about hiking, martial arts, dog obedience competitions, hobby farming, or painting either.

I wish I could think of some solutions as to where you could look that wasn't like this, but it's definitely the majority of the RPC. It doesn't help that, due to this, serious RPers have a tendency to quietly stick together and not venture out into the RPC. They're just not incredibly easy to find.

I will say that they tend to be:

novella - if you're not here for serious RP and sticking around for a while, you're not going to invest the time and energy into particularly lengthy writing

older RPers - I would say that twenty-five is probably the youngest, with early thirties to late forties being the majority

in fandoms with a large adult base of fans - even if it's a franchise friendly to, or even meant for, younger fans, if it has a particularly active adult fanbase, it's a better chance of finding serious RPers in it

as above, old fandoms - fandoms that have been around for a long time tend to have more serious RPers in them

fandomless OCs - tend to have a higher chance of being written by serious RPers than canons or heavily fandom-involved OCs

RPers who do not do a ton of advertising for their muse(s), but when they do, they don't advertise them based on activism points or trends

slightly more likely to not have an emphasis on highly aesthetic blogs, graphics, icons etc. - they use a modified basic tumblr theme, low on graphics, their aesthetics are not on-trend, for example

anti-content policing/"write what you want" style muns

muns with more extensive rules pages - they plan to be here for a while, they take writing, RP, and their muse(s) seriously, so, it's a bit more important to them to head off problems before they start

those with older characters/FCs - be that literally in age or the character being one that has existed for a long time

"stay in your lane" style muns - if they're opining on fandom or the RPC, they must really be angry about something

those with numerous and detailed headcanons - for example, their response to a HC meme ask like, "what's your muse's favorite ice cream flavor?" is going to be treated seriously, not simply answered with "mint chocolate chip because my bby is gross"

As usual, not a complete or perfect list. I don't fit some of the things on there! It could give you some things to look for when trying to find other serious RPers, though. It's based on observances from someone who was never a casual RPer, even as a minor (me, obviously), and maybe it could at least keep you from continuously running into hostility about your approach to RP.

I've honestly considered making a list of some sort expressly for RPers who are on the more serious end of the spectrum, but...in a RPC back when things were dominated by serious RPers, I did that sort of thing with a RPH I had, and it still got labeled as being a list for and by Elitists. I don't know that anyone would want to put themselves out there for potential harassment on tumblr, you know? It was a joke then, just having a group of RPers label you as an Elitist. Here, you get told to kill yourself, and none of us need more of that shit, right?

Try to hang in there, Anon, I know it's upsetting, and I'm so sorry that something fun has gotten to be like this.

Try to understand that these people are coming from a place of irrational defensiveness, often in response to bullying themselves at some point or feeling bad about themselves. That doesn't make it right, but it does make it easier to not take to heart.

And keep at it! In my experience here, once you find a group of people you fit into, it really is...A Group. Especially among RPers who are ostracized, they stick together, they promote each other, and they're very happy for their mutuals to become your mutuals. Once you find them, it unlocks so many opportunities for the interactions and type of RP you've been missing!

[rachelbethhines]

Tangled Salt Marathon - Rapunzel’s Return Part 2

Continuing on from part 1 - 

https://rachelbethhines.tumblr.com/post/635068926214258688/tangled-salt-marathon-rapunzels-return-part-1

Summary: When Rapunzel tries to defeat the Saporians by herself she gets captured; but once Varian realizes that the Separatists plan on using one of his potions' destructive properties to destroy Corona, he and Rapunzel work together to stop it.

Let’s Talk About What a Let Down the Sapiorans Are

Throughout seasons one and two the Sapiorans were built up to be this intriguing race of people with a complex past and real problems that are sadly relatable to this day. They had a history, goal, motives, and special abilities like magic.  

Yet all we got was a really bad hipster parody. 

Heck, the crew can’t even keep it’s stereotypes right because they mostly slide into hippy territory instead. Hipsters, Yuppies, and Hippies are three distinctive counter culture movements for three different generations with completely different social concerns and fads. 

Basically Chris tried to “stick it to the kids” again and just wound up insulting his parents' generation instead because he’s that oblivious of other human beings.

And that’s not even taking into account that previously the Sapiorans were living on the run as nomads in caravans not dissimilar to common Romani stereotypes, so the show is once again making negative racial connotations due to thoughtlessness.

Why Do You Have a Secret Underground Room Hidden Behind Your Workshop Xavier?

Like that not a thing normal people happen to have lying around there workspace. We still are given zero explanation for why Xavier has all this plot convenient knowledge and rare unordinary plot useful stuff. 

Given his previous connection to Saporia and Zhan Tiri wouldn’t it not have made more sense to reveal that he is an actual plot important character in season three rather than keep him as just the exposition fairy? 

So Was This Before or After the Saporian Take Over? Cause Either Answer Makes This a Dumb Plan.

Why would the guards, especially Cap, just give up? Did they even bother fighting and then lost to Varian’s weapons or were they told to stand down by a brainwashed Frederic? If they knew something was wrong then why not stay and help? What makes them think they even could find Rapunzel given how no one knew where she was heading and her letters were infrequent? What difference would they think finding Rapunzel would do? 

Basically, just like with the “former cellmate” line, we needed to actually set up and establish this conflict rather than relying solely on exposition dumps. Because what we get here doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. It goes against established character and leaves a lot of unanswered plot holes. 

More Promotion of Authoritarianism From the Show

Remember that these are the same people who formed a lynch mob to hunt down a fourteen year old all because the king told them to. The same king who had been lying to them for years and placed their lives and homes in danger for months. The same king who persecuted the poor and orphans for years. Him suddenly sending townsfolk to the mines isn’t anything new, so what are these people’s breaking points? Anyone else would have revolted by now.  

But noooo, they need Rapunzel to do it for them. Cause Rapunzel is royalty and they can’t do anything without royal permission because they’re sheep. Sheep that’s been subjugated for years and conditioned to be afraid of their “beloved ruler”. 

I understand from a meta point of view why you would want your main character to take charge but...

Like this isn’t inspiring.

It’s disturbing. 

Why are we promoting blind loyalty to a person who’s not earned it just because they were born special? In a freakin’ kids show no less! 

Oh and still no one bothers to call out King Frederic’s abuses here, FYI. 

Take Note That Quirineon is Activated By Heat

This will be important later on in the review. 

He’s Already Built Grenades For You. Wouldn’t Those Be Better Because They’re Easier to Control?

He’s already built explosive chemicals for you. You just used them in part one of the episode. And it came in an easy to use form rather than an unstable, and untested, mess that could literally blow up in your faces since no one, not even Varian himself, knows how to control it yet. 

You Don’t Hammer Out a Cast Iron Pan

It’s literally in the word. To make a cast iron pan you pour the metal into a casted mold. You don't hammer it out like you would with a sword or something. And you can’t even go with the “rule of cool” here cause Rapunzel surrounded by molten metal and fire would have been far more impressive looking.  

Yes I’m being picky cause I’m stalling. I don’t care. This is just yet another instance of the crew not paying attention to details like they should. 

Behold The Final Time Eugene Will Ever Call Out Rapunzel’s BS

This is the last time Eugene will hold an honest discussion with Rapunzel like an equal to her. By the end of this episode he will have transitioned into full on doormat mode. 

Also burying negative feelings and not addressing issues is who Rapunzel is. She’s been pulling this shit since day one. It’s what causes 90% of the conflicts in the show. Have you not noticed Eugene?  

So This Episode Has Contradictory “Lessons” 

The episode presents this idea that Rapunzel needs to open up to others and trust again after Cassandra’s betrayal. The problem is that the episode doesn’t follow through on that. It makes a knee-jerk decision to go with a “responsibility” lesson that wasn’t built up to instead at the last minute. 

More on this later.    

Varian Doesn’t Actually Interact With the Saporians at Any Point.

The only person Varian interacts with is Andrew. We have no concept of how he fits in with the rest of the group and what his dynamics are with them. What do they think of Varian? What does Varian think of them? The consequence to this is to further divorce Varian from narrative, even though this is supposed to be his redemption episode. 

As I said in the last part, you can easily write Varian out of this episode and nothing really changes plot wise. That’s bad writing. 

Also I was robbed of Khary Payton and Jeremy Jordan exchanging lines. I was this close to having audio material for my BH6 crossover, dang it! 

Behold The One Time the Black Lady Gets a Line!

I think her name is Juniper? 

You can tell it’s her because of the shadow on the wall.

Anyways they casted this part and only bothered to give the character a single line? What a waste! 

But this just goes back to the series' poor representation. The only WOC in the show are presented as “shifty” and untrustworthy, even when they are ultimately “good guys”. The majority of them are straight up villains tho, and even as antagonists they’re not afforded any real screen time. 

And the only other outright black women on the show is the inventor lady who was given zero respect and the ghost of a barbarian. 

Once again, I don’t think the crew are intentionally racist. I think they’re just sloppy. They wanted to be more inclusive but they failed to actually give voice to minorities behind the scenes and so failed in representing them well. This is a problem with the industry as a whole, not just this one show, and must be talked about as such if we wish to change things for the better. 

None of this “Stuff” Holds Any Real Meaning

We get several callbacks to season one through Cassandra’s personal things that she left behind, but none of this stuff holds any real personal meaning. It’s just there. They wind up triggering these big emotional reactions from both Rapunzel and Cassandra but the audience is just left confused because what they’re crying over are things that have little significance to these characters. Even this line from season one is just dripping with sarcasm and not some pleasant past memory that either Cass or Raps holds dear to their hearts. 

Way To Go, Dumbass

It’s not that she went alone, or that she broke down when it finally hit her that Cass left, that I’m making fun off. The episode already addresses those two points. 

No, what ticks me off is that Rapunzel has taken down killer robots, ghosts, and monsters before now with her magical hair but a handful of regular dudes can just bring her down? I don’t care how much alchemy they got. Depowering your main character for no stated reason just for narrative convenience is poor writing. 

Because If He Didn’t He Would Have DIED, Rapunzel!!!

He literally would have freakin died had he not done something! He was left inside a jail cell to rot away! Before that he was threatened with hangman’s noose! Before that violence from an angry crowd! Before that he was left alone to starve and/or die from exposure! There was no way out for him except to fight! 

And here you are inside the very prison that you kept him in and you still don't have the fucking self awareness to put two and two together! 

This Right Here the Assassination of Rapunzel’s Character and the Killing Blow to the Series

Yeah, and what about after the storm? Hun, bitch!?

We’ve spent two damn seasons watching Rapunzel stepping on people and making excuses for herself and the one time when she should realize her actions are wrong and finally own up to her behavior and she still does not fucking change.

This is supposed to be a coming of age story! That means the main character is supposed to grow and learn shit! But when it matters most, Rapunzel only digs in her heels and refuses to change! 

Why should I care about this character anymore if she’s just going to keep on being selfish no matter what? Why should I bother watching the show if it fails to deliver on its premise? How is this in any way shape or form an appropriate message for children!? 

If you’re watching the series for the first time, then it’ll take awhile to register just how awful this scene is and how it really is the beginning of the end, because they did have time to turn things around after this. But they didn’t, and here we are. 

This Isn’t a Real Apology

It’s not a real apology if all you do is make excuses for yourself. Rapunzel doesn’t address what she actually did wrong here and it has nothing to do with her stupid promise. 

She neglected and enabled the abuse of a child for a year and three months, and she’s not even sorry for it! 

You Were Never a “Friend” Rapunzel

Friends, actually do shit together. They enjoy each other’s company. They care when the other is hurt or in trouble. 

Rapunzel only came to see Varian when she needed him for something. Even now, after this confrontation, that’s all she’ll ever do. She does not actually care about Varian, because the creators will not let her care. 

And Here Comes the Death of Varian’s Characterization

In order to make this stupid, forced, “redemption” work the writers had to do a complete 180 with Varian’s character and his motivations. Instead of freeing his father, seeking revenge, or just, you know, surviving, he now suddenly cares about “being friends” and “being accepted by people”, only he has no reason to want any of that! 

Rapunzel is a shit friend. Heck all the mains are crap friends to him. They ruined his life and the townspeople tried to kill him. Why would he want anything to do with any of these a-holes!? 

Varian doesn’t get assassinated in the same sense as Rapunzel and Cassandra do. He doesn’t suddenly become a hateable dumb douchebag or anything, but he nevertheless has his character retroactively sabotaged by the writing.  

Uh, Were You Not There When Your Dad Rounded Up a Lynch Mob Against Him, Raps?

I believe you were. Also Varian literally told you to your face that he had to go into hiding cause the townspeople were willing to attack him just because those rumors that you failed to stop and pretended not to know anything about. 

Just because the characters shout something repeatedly does not make it true. The audience isn’t dumb. They can remember what happened only two seasons ago. 

Where Was the Inciting Incident For This Change of Heart?

Why should he even want their forgiveness? Why has he given up on freeing his father? Why is he having second doubts about overthrowing the kingdom that persecuted him? 

If you’re going to drastically change a character’s motivations, goals, and moral alignment then you need to present an in story reason for that change. We don’t get that. There’s no inciting incident on screen for us to see the shift in his character development. 

The audience is left to only infer, and that’s poor writing. The audience shouldn’t have to do the work of the writers for them.  Characters’ motivations and goals  should not be guess work. 

The only thing we can glean from this is that he had a change of heart while in prison and that’s a horrifying thing for the show to suggest. That’s basically justifying Frederic’s abuse. It also recontextualizes Varian’s arc into one of submission to his abusers and not one of learning to do the right thing simply because it’s right. 

Once Again, Were You Not There For Season One Rapunzel?

They had a year and three damn months of chances. These people actively tried to do him harm just for simply seeking help. He has no reason to trust them nor you. 

Why Are We Shoulding All of the Blame Onto the Abused Child?

Yes, he did do all of those things, technically, but they’re being presented here without context.

The Queen enabled his abuser who was threatening his life and destroyed his home. He kidnapped her as a last restore when all other methods to get out of his desperate situation failed. 

The princess he threatened neglected him for three months and repeatedly refused to help him, even throwing him out into a deadly snow storm. Despite him being her responsibility, thereby making her neglect a flat out abuse of power.  

He would have died a slow and painful death in prison had he not helped to overthrow the kingdom that persecuted him. 

I’m not going to pretend that what Varian did was right or that he shouldn’t feel sorry for what he did, but this is a highly skewed version of events that are being recounted here just to create bias in the viewers. It’s manipulative writing intended to gaslight the audience. 

Also, why does he even want a second chance!?   

Doesn’t This Undermine The Saporian’s Goals?

The Saporians wanted to reclaim their ancestral homeland so that they would no longer be a displaced people. How does blowing up that homeland help them? 

Season three just throws all logic out the window. There’s barely a single villain who doesn’t undermine their own goals at some point with their stupid actions. 

So Why Varian and Andrew Not Some Other Team Up?

Out of all of the various recurring baddies in the show Varian and Andrew have the least in common. I’m not saying that they couldn’t work together, but doing so required more set up than this. Because as is, this is a very contrived teamup. 

They have diametrically opposed goals and moral alignments. Varian doesn’t bring anything to the table that the Saporaions couldn’t have supplied themselves. Meanwhile the Saporians have failed to offer Varian anything that he could want. 

At best it’s a marriage of convenience for them to both break out of prison together, but even that is contrived because we don't know why neither of them were sent away on the prison barge with the rest of the season one villians.  

Better combinations would have been 

Varian & Lady Caine

Andrew & Lady Caine 

Varian & Cass

Andrew & Cass 

Varian & Zhan Tiri

Andrew & Zhan Tiri

Varian & Hector

The Baron & Varian

Andrew & Staylan 

King Trevor & Varian 

Like there were tons of options here that the writers just ignored, even though any of them would have made more sense than the one they went with.  

The Andrew and Varian Dynamic Can Be Seen as an Allegory for Grooming; Unfortunately the Writers Didn’t Consider That Implication.

Yeah... That’s pretty much what Andrew has done here. He’s groomed this desperate and lonely teen to become a child soldier for him. And one only can only pray that’s all he tried to groom him to do since they were trapped inside a confined and enclosed space together for several months. 

Listen, I don’t mind children’s shows touching upon darker subjects. Often fantasy is a good way for people to process complex themes and uncomfortable real world situations through the safety of fiction. It can even be helpful for those who have had the misfortune to experience certain traumas. 

I’m not complaining that TTS is too dark. 

I’m complaining about it being shit. 

All of the crap Varian goes through is just thrown in there for shock value. It’s not here to commentate on the real world nor provide a complex story. The situations are brought only to then be outright ignored. This isn’t thoughtful nor deep. It’s not meaningful nor heartfelt. It’s just hollow drama done in bad taste. 

You’re Not In a Position to Judge Rapunzel 

You got captured first because you decided to throw yourself a pity party. 

Would He Though?

I’m pretty sure Quirin is very well aware of how shitty Frederic is. If anything I would think he’d be pissed that his son, that he tried so hard to protect, was mistreated in such a hordenous way. 

This isn’t some satisfying ending to Varian’s arc. It’s a heartbreaking revelation that he’s been beaten down by his abusers.  

Varian’s Arc Isn’t Actually About Validation, and Rapunzel Giving It Here Doesn’t Really Change Anything 

I spoke about this before on its own, but Tangled the Series places far too much stock in validation. Yes, it’s an aspect of his character arc, but it’s not the end all and be all of his motivation. It’s not the force that drives him to do what he does. 

His primary goal is survival, both for himself and for his father. His secondary goal is gaining his father’s approval, but that’s not because he’s seeking generic praise, it’s because his father is emotionally distant. The “validation” is a mask for the real issues which are to fix his relationship with his dad and avoid the guilt of having possibly killed him in an accident. 

Rapunzel has fuck all to do with that. 

He doesn’t need to hear approval from her. He needs her to get her shit together and help him! 

Rapunzel’s and Varian’s Situations Are Nothing Alike and Rapunzel Doesn’t Know Jackshit

Rapunzel you were dumped by your bestie because you’re a shitty friend. 

Varian was neglected and abused by those who were supposed to take care of him. 

Unless you’re drawing parallels to how Frederic and Gothel treated you, and even then neither of them denied you basic fucking needs! 

This should be an “Oh Shit! I’ve become just like Mother Gothel” moment for Rapunzel, not an “Oh yay! Someone to share in my personal misery” moment. 

Man, Rapunzel suuuuuucks! 

Also This Still Isn’t An Actual Apology

Once again, Rapunzel is not admitting what she did wrong here. She’s not actually acknowledging Varian’s pain, nor what she needs to do to make admins with him. 

What she’s doing is making things all about herself again. She’s talking about her feelings. About what she is facing. Rapunzel is an incredibly selfish and egotistical person and the show is trying to present this as a positive thing by rewarding her for such behavior. 

Varian’s Redemption Should Have Nothing to Do with “Friendship”

Varian has no reason to want to become friends again with the woman who ruined his life and abused him. 

But more than that, redemption shouldn’t be dependent upon Rapunzel’s friendship, nor even her ‘forgiveness”. Varian should be able to do the right thing just because it’s the right thing, Rapunzel be damned. 

This cheepens not only his character development but also Rapunzel’s development as well. Rapunzel is not allowed to grow as a person and accept that not everyone wants to be her friend, and that people may have valid reasons to hate her even, and that doesn’t make them evil. 

It also rushes through Varian’s arc undermining what the audience had to get through to get to this point.  

OK, Let’s Talk About The Goatee

I wouldn’t have minded the beard had it just not looked like a fucking barcode. There’s production art where it looks fine. But just wiping it away ties back to what I was talking about in part one. It’s denying Varian the chance to grow up. This is supposed to be his coming of age story as well but the crew won't let him do that because “rule of funny” apparently overrides what the characters actually need in order to develop.  

Once again, the show isn’t a sitcom. You can have comedic moments but the comedy doesn’t need to outright undermine the drama. 

Once Again, Shouldn’t Eugene Be the First Person to Jump to Varian’s Defence?

You mean the orphan on the streets who stole stuff and fought to survive when the adults failed to take care of him? Is that what you’re talking about Eugene? Cause if I remember correctly that was you not just three years ago. 

You Mean Rapunzel Needs Him To Make Her Feel Better About Herself

Spoiler alert, but Varian doesn’t actually do anything after this point in the episode. His entire “redemption” is just about making Rapunzel feel better about herself after Cass has rejected her. He’s literally become the rebound. 

How Come Varian Suddenly Became Shorter Just for This Shot?

I know the meta reason is to reflect that scene back in Queen for a Day when Rapunzel promised him that she'd help him before everything went tits up. Where he was also drawn shorter in that episode to make him seem more verunable, but here he’s just suddenly shorter for only two shots and then suddenly back to his usual height. 

Crap like this is why I insist that Varian didn’t actually get any taller in season three. The show just has always been inconsistent with his height and most of the “evidence” for his growth are cherry picked instances where the show drew him smaller than usual for reasons, like here.   

So Where Did They Get That Much of the Explosives and How Did They Get Them So Fast?

Only Varian knows how to manufacture that stuff. Why would he make that much of it if he was still in the experimental phase with it? He’s even surprised that they have so much, so where did they get it? If they made it then, how did they make it so fast? 

So This Plan Goes Nowhere

Spoiler alert: Varian doesn’t actually get to do any of that. In fact he’s kind of pointless for the rest of the episode. 

Why Would the King and Queen Care About a City That They Can’t Remember?

Like this revenge doesn’t make sense. It’s just a contrived way to get Eugene and Lance out of the way.

If the Quirineon Explodes From Being Exposed to Heat Then What Good Does Just Dropping It Do?

Yeah, remember? The stuff explodes when heated. Simply dropping it shouldn’t do anything other than make a mess on the ground maybe. 

All That Build Up and Varian Still Doesn’t Get to Do Anything Useful

Up till this point, Varian was shown to be the most competent threat in the show. Yet here they have him be a screw up twice in a row just for comedy antics and to glorify Rapunzel again. 

If you got to nerf other characters just to make your main look good then you’ve failed to establish your main character as being capable in their own right. 

Remember That This Boy Was Trapped in a Jail Cell With This Guy for a Year!

No, I’ll never be over this.

Andrew is the most directly violent and scummy out of all of the villians in the show. 

If he’s willing to do this now, if he was willing to do this to his ex-girlfriend, then what the heck was he willing to do when he and Varian were trapped alone together? 

So Andrew Just Willingly Sacrifices His Own People Here....Even Though His Goal Was to Give His People a New Home....

People need to use this gif more often when concerning this show and the villains’ ass-backwards plans.

And yes they survive because of Varian alchemy. But that was on accident. Andrew had no way of knowing that would happen. He’s willing to destroy his own people just to blow up his ancestral homeland and for what!? What does he gain from this action?  

The Mind Wipe Kills Frederic’s and Arianna’s Characters; Littraly

Frederic and Arianna are effectively dead at this point. Anything that made them, well them, has been wiped away. Their personalities, hopes, dreams, their on going stories and development, just gone. And we never get them back, even when their memories supposedly return. 

Varian’s Not Even Allowed to Get the Idea On How to Save Corona...In His Own Redemption Episode No Less

This is his episode! We’ve spent two years building up to this point and you can’t even let him help? He’s denied the chance to make up for his own mistakes! Just so Rapunzel can play hero and be a very shallow representation of what a bunch of men think a “strong” woman should be! 

It’s fucking insulting. That’s what it is. 

Making a female character the center of the universe to the point where other people are just props for her is not empowering! 

No It’s Not!!

Uh you wouldn’t even be here had you just fucking helped Varian to being with you dumb bitch! This is very much you and your father’s mess! 

Even now, while pretending to be responsible, Rapunzel can’t actually be responsible and own up to what she did! 

She’s fucking 20 and the 16 year old shows more maturity than her! 

Also Your Hair Can Protect Two People at Once Rapunzel; Remember?

There’s no excuse for leaving Varian out of the action. We’ve been shown multiple times now that Rapunzel’s magic hair can protect her and other people at the same time. 

Having Rapunzel Save the Day By Herself Undermines Everything the Episode Was Trying to Establish

What happened to needing to “trust again” and letting other people help you? Having Rapunzel save the day alone just tosses out the lesson that the show was trying to build up to. 

The show tries to frame this as Rapunzel learning “responsibility” but that also does not work. For one it was never established that she needed to learn that within the episode itself and secondly, she doesn’t actually do anything different from what she usually does. 

Being an action hero isn’t the same thing as being responsible. Being responsible is being considerate of others, doing the borning shit or mundane crap that you hate, and being mature enough to recognize your own failings and admitting when you were wrong. 

So in the end Rapunzel is neither responsible nor more open to others. 

And There’s the Death of Eugene’s Character

Lance, who has maybe exchanged all of three sentences with Raps, is more distrught than the guy that supposedly wants to marry her. This isn’t heartwarming, nor it is growth. It’s just lobotomizing a character right in front of our eyes. 

In this very episode he was worried about Raps going to face the Saporians by herself and was, guess what, fucking right to do so. But he doesn’t give two shits if she gets blown up!? 

Ooookaaaay.....

This is the completion of turning Eugene into a doormat. From now own he shan’t be allowed to have any thoughts or feelings of his own that disagrees with Rapunzel. 

The Eugene we knew is now dead. 

But Of Course the Show Rewards Everyone for Behaving In the Dumbest Way Possible Anyways

Don’t expect any of these grossly out of character moments and oxygen deprived logic to be addressed nor fixed within the show. The series will keep on shoving unearned endings into our facing while insisting that this is positive development. 

How Did Y’all Get Here Before Varian?

Yes, he was left on a roof, but he can climb and y’all were outside of the city. 

Yeah... A Year and Half Fucking Later!

Ok, a year and three months, but that’s still not any better. Worse, all this implies is that Rapunzel would not have ever concerned herself with trying to free Quirin had Varian not broken out of prison. She would have literally left them both for dead and we’re supposed to find her suddenly doing the bare fucking minimum heartwarming and inspiring?

Where Was the Inciting Incident to Use the Decay Incantation for This? 

How did Rapunzel come up with this plan? When did she come up with it? 

When the hurt incantation was first found no one mentioned how it could be used to save Quirin. No one even gave Quirin a thought. Since then the incarnation hasn’t been brought back up, ever. This is a pretty big leap in logic for Rapunzel to suddenly think of this. 

All it highlights how Varian was originally meant to be there to translate the scrolls and incantations in order to establish all this but of course it got cut so now it just comes the fuck out of nowhere. 

Not Letting Varian Have Anything to Do With Saving His Father Is Even Worse Than Not Letting Him Save the Day

This has been his motivation since the beginning. It’s been the driving plot for a season, and now that the time has finally come what does get to do? 

Hold a dang bucket. 

Part of coming up with satisfying endings is following through on what you’ve established. The audience needs closure. Simply freeing Quirin isn’t enough, we need the carthartis of Varian specifically fulfilling his goal. 

I don’t know how to break this to you Chris, but this isn’t Rapunzel’s story. Not this segment of it anyways. It’s Varian’s and it just so happens to connect to Rapunzel’s. She shouldn’t have been center stage for this. 

The Series Blows It’s Load Too Early with the Incantations

This is the last time we’ll hear any of the incantations sung on screen, cause someone in budgeting didn’t know what was important to throw the money at and what was not. 

It’s not bad here, but if we could only hear one incantation only once this season it needed to be in the finale with the final heal incantation. 

Varian Was Right All Along

Also, all this does is justify Varian’s actions in season one. Rapunzel was indeed the only one who could free his dad according to this. For a series that desperately wants to shove all of the blame onto an abused child’s shoulders they sure go out their way to prove him right. 

So How Is the Hurt Incantation Suppose to Work?

There were so many fan theories after this scene because Varian and Quirin don’t respond to the hurt incantation the same way previous characters had. 

No one is gasping for breath, Varian can touch Raps without burning his hands, and Rapunzel can control the direction of her power. ect. 

Turns out there was nothing there, the writers just didn’t know what the fuck they were doing and made the hurt incantation very inconsistent just like all of the magic in this show. 

BULLSHIT!!!

You literally turn into a villain because she gave up on you!!!!

She also didn’t give two shits about you throughout the entirety of season two. 

Why are we just pretending like season one didn’t exist!? 

Why!?

The Note!!!

No It Fucking Didn’t!

Does That Look Like “I’m Proud of You Son” To You?

Chris went on to confirm that, yes, the note did hold more information that then got cut. Pretty much confirming all that we suspected. That Varian was cut from season two and his story hastily shoved back into season three at the last minute. 

Below is the link to the tumblr post he made.

https://cnotes.tumblr.com/post/190534585146/apparently-one-of-the-writers-said-a-while-back

What’s worse is that his defense is such bullshit. The below exchange pretty much sums it all up.

This Doesn’t Actually Resolve Anything and Is Therefore Unsatisfying to Watch

Part of the reason why this conclusion doesn’t work is because it doesn’t actually address any of the problems that they have in their relationship. Quirin never owns up to what he did wrong. There’s no discussion of what Varian was up to while he was entrapped, no conversation about what secrets Quirin hid from his son, and zero admission of wrongdoing on either side.   

Also Varian has done nothing significant to earn those particular words. Saying I love makes sense, but in context saying “I’m proud of you” does not. It doesn’t even work on a meta level cause the episode prevented Varioan from accomplishing anything. 

It’s empty. 

There Could Have Been More Screen Time to Fix This If Not for Season Two Mucking About

https://discord.com/channels/427940661589704715/569296212218347522/777635115978457098

Above is the link to the original storyboards. It doesn’t fix everything but there’s a lot more satisfying emotional beats including adding Ruddiger back in who is suspiciously absent for the entire episode for no stated reason. 

This version was cut due to time. Which, like with the Crossing the Line song, didn’t need to be had they been more effective with their usage of time in season two. 

They also could have had a better conclusion to Varian’s arc in general had he not been cut from season two altogether. 

So What Does Freeing Quirin Add to the Series?

I’m serious. What does freeing Quirin at this point and time do for the story?

It doesn’t add any character development, Quirin just wanders around aimlessly in the background until the finale and even then his part in that is a pointless dead end. Varian doesn’t gain his emotional closure, just empty, hollow “praise”. Nor is he allowed to accomplish any of his established goals. No new lore or history is exposed. No mystery uncovered. 

There’s no reason why this couldn’t have been done later in the season. Provide more tension and keep up the consequences of the characters actions. Give the mains something to do and work on until Cass and Zhan Tiri show up again.  

The only reason why this is here is to wrap Varian’s story up as soon as possible so he won’t “steal Cassandra’s spotlight”. That’s it. He’s rewarded for conforming to Rapunzel’s will and all the fans should shut up and be grateful, at least according to Chris.

I Like This Song But It Wasn’t Needed

It doesn’t add anything to the story. It’s just a generic celebration song. Which would be fine if it wasn’t for the fact that we have a limited number of songs, even less than in previous seasons, and the story isn’t over yet. This is the wrong place to put a victory song at. 

Especially when we could have had a song that furthered Varian’s redemption instead.  Yeah, that was cut too. 

So Is Varian the New “Lance” This Season?

He’s right there! This is his dang focus episode! 

Why hire Broadway singers and not let them sing!? Why waste talent and money like that? 

Also These Lyrics!

Did Glenn Slater just not read the scripts before writing the songs? That’s all season three ever does! Give the mains what they want without earning it. Even in this very episode!

So Is This Rapunzel’s 20th Birthday or Not?

Ok I have gotten into many a heated debate about how long season three is supposed to be. And that’s because what the crew says doesn’t match what the series shows us. 

By all accounts this should be Rapunzel’s birthday. According to season two she’s been gone for one year, and there’s the lanterns that they fly specifically on her birthday. 

But no one verbally says it’s her birthday and I’ve heard conflicting accounts from different members of the crew. Some stating that it is her 20th birthday and some disagreeing that it is. 

Well I’ll take what evidence that the show actually presents to its audience on screen over what the cast and crew says after the fact any day of the week, so I’ll be gathering up this evidence and proving by the end that season three is two years not one. 

But the fact that I must comb through series to prove this, the fact that we can even have this debate, and the fact that the crew have to state basic info after the series is over is just proof of the bad writing. 

Fun Fact: Cupcakes Weren’t Invented Until the 20th Century

Yeah, that’s the fault of the OG film, and yeah it doesn’t really mean much, but still it’s one more thing to add to the pile of stuff that doesn’t fit. 

Plus I’m just a hardcore nerd for historical cooking and I like to share my knowledge.  

Yeah But How Can He Trust All of You Again?

You’re the ones who let him down first; repeatedly. And you only started to make things up to him once he became useful to you. What assurance does he have that you won’t mistreat him again next time he’s in trouble or is no longer of any use to y’all? 

Yes, Let NOT Show What the Main Character Is Actually Going Through

Yup, this is “Rapunzel’s show” but we’re not going to let Rapunzel have any focus on her feelings or give any insight into her thought process about what is the main conflict of the series now.

Conclusion

Ducktales was robbed! 

I can’t believe this shit won an Emmy for “best writing.” It utterly fails on every possible level. It fails to be a continuation of the ongoing story and it fails to be a stand alone episode. Even the very structure of the story is fundamentally flawed. The only reason why it’s not the worst episode of the entire series because the finale and the penultimate episodes exist. 

Anyways...I finally made it through. It literally took my entire weekend but I’m finally caught up. Next week I’ll be going back to the usual one episode a week schedule. 

[lambourngb]

“It was supposed to be a regular, boring morning shower”

First line tag

A million years ago, an anon sent me this ask for the first line meme. I woke up possessed and wrote “stuck in gravity, clawing for some bravery” in 10 days.  This story is complete, 23,000 words. I put the first two chapters up on AO3 early in honor of the news of our show coming back. The rest goes up tomorrow.

beta thanks to the wonderful @tasyfa

Pairing: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes, Alex Manes/Forrest Long, Michael Guerin/Maria Deluca (past) Kyle Valenti/Maria Deluca (implied/mentioned)

Tags: Starts Forlex ends in Malex, Getting back together, Nebulous Season 3, Angst,  Pining, Alien Soulmate Bullshit, Emotional Infidelity, Communication, Emotional Hurt/Comforot,  Explicit Sexual Content, Dirty Talk , Telepathy, Handprint Sex

Summary: A year after Crashcon, Michael knows three things for certain. 

1. He loves Alex and he probably definitely always will.

2. Having Alex as his best friend makes everything in his life better.

3. Knowing, thanks to his bullshit alien biology, that Alex still fantasizes about his body regularly while dating someone else for a year, well, that is a little more difficult to navigate. 

It’s fine. It is all just fine. 

Author Notes: This content is probably not appropriate for review by a college writing class on tumblr, just saying but you’re welcome to leave a kudo if you like it. 

*****

It was supposed to be a regular, boring morning shower for Michael. 

His first Sunday off in over three months deserved a little self-care, he had decided. The summer had brought an abrupt uptick in work at the garage with increased summertime driving leading to more careless accidents and stranded motorists to tow to safety. While Walt would deny it to the end, Michael couldn’t help but notice the old man had slowed down in his work. Between doing his best to keep Sanders’ in business and taking shifts at the Crashdown to fill in for the still-absent Liz so Arturo and Rosa could have their own break, taking the time for more than a perfunctory late night wash down felt luxurious to Michael.

There was a point to staying busy, with filling every hour inside an engine or on a different project around the junkyard with his trailer and that point was distraction. Distraction from the awareness that everyone was thriving. Max and his new-found ‘cousin’ Jones were reconstructing the history of their people’s language and literature together. Isobel had recently celebrated her three-month anniversary with Monica, an artist who shared the same studio space as Rosa. Maria had made exploring her alien-rooted abilities the focus of her life outside of the bar, combining her knowledge of yoga and meditation to crack the ability of moving forward in time. With that success, she had managed to bring back the answer to saving her brain from damage from the future. Her work with Kyle in developing the treatment for her and Mimi had led a new romance there. Then there was Alex, the true focus of Michael’s need for distraction, marking a one-year anniversary with Forrest. 

It was fine. All Michael had ever wanted was for Alex to be happy. The distractions he had filled his life with helped soothe the edges of knowing who was at the root of Alex’s new-found peace.

In the last year, Michael had built a permanent wooden deck out in front of his Airstream, transforming his fire pit into an outdoor brick barbecue oven, before moving on to recycle discarded auto glass into window panes for a small greenhouse complete with a rainwater cistern off the rear of the trailer. The actual interior boasted its own changes, an expanded shower stall and more of a kitchen set up than a hotplate and kettle with a small split-level stove and expanded countertop. The next task was building a canopy to shield the deck from the elements. At some point, Michael had acknowledged to himself that each piece he had worked on had turned his portable, transient can-go-anywhere Airstream into a stable fixture at Sanders’. 

A home with roots. 

A home without Alex and he had accepted that, respecting Alex’s choice of partner. They were the right people for each other, but were always meeting at the wrong time. For a while, he had waited patiently for things to end with Forrest. He had been happy enough to work on being Alex’s friend in the meantime. Then, once they were truly friends sharing every stupid moment of their days via a text message or over a beer at his trailer, he had felt the betrayal of his selfish thoughts keenly. What kind of friend would root for a break-up? What kind of friend would wish heartbreak on the other?

The asshole kind, he had concluded. 

As the hot water from the shower head poured over his head though, the acceptance he had about Alex moving on was just a little farther from his reach because Alex was currently thinking about him. They weren’t platonic friend-thoughts either.

A ghost sensation of a hand skirted down Michael’s body, lingering over his chest hair, and fuck, Alex had really loved to card his fingers through it. His mind was awash with impulses not his own, hot anticipation and the thrill of pleasure dropped down his body like the free-falling crest of a rollercoaster. Michael closed his eyes, soaking in the feelings. A gasp escaped his mouth, heard by no one in his trailer. Good God, Alex was really ready, waking with morning wood or to someone — Wrapping his own hand around his hardening cock, Michael stroked himself in time with Alex’s thoughts, pushing aside his own. It was best to just give into temptation and enjoy the moment. 

It was something he had learned to embrace with varying degrees of eagerness over the last few years. 

The connection with Alex had formed apparently sometime after the shed, but it had taken him over ten years and Alex moving back to Roswell to realize what was going on between them. The summer they had turned eighteen, they had barely been able to keep their hands off each other in the desert, and when Michael was alone, all he could think about back then, was Alex. His head had been a complex swirl of emotion, slingshotting him from the highs of seeing Alex to the lows of facing his own aborted future. There was the longing for Alex, the sadness that he knew their time was limited because Alex was going to go places, and he was stuck in Roswell watching over Isobel, but in the background, of what he thought was a relic from Jesse’s attack, was always a sense of sick fear, of being caught. Again.

Then over the last ten years, Michael would experience this awareness, and suddenly all he could think about was Alex. How it felt to touch him, the wickedness of his mouth, the burn and the stretch to accept Alex’s cock as he took him inside with a bitten lip- Michael thought it was just his mind, giving him a touchstone to happiness and the remembrance of being loved briefly by Alex. Nostalgia. Afterwards as he caught his breath, with his chest splattered with come, the sadness would seep in again, stealing whatever light that was made by those memories.

It wasn’t until after the drive-in, when Alex had spent almost two months avoiding him in person, that Michael had realized that those moments, late at night or early in the morning, were tied to Alex. It took falling into his bed one night, after visiting Isobel in her pod to finally piece it together. His face had hurt from crying on the drive home and the urge to sleep and never wake up again had been so incredibly strong that it took a moment for him to realize he was thinking about Alex. His cock hadn’t even been on his radar, but suddenly all he could think about was getting sucked off. 

Fuck, he hadn’t wanted it then, too sad and scared about Isobel to feel much connection to his body for the purposes of pleasure, but the sensations and feelings that had overtaken Michael were too intense to fight that night. Later as he panted, open-mouthed and staring at the ceiling of his Airstream with distant thoughts of cleaning up, his phone rang once. Only the once. Then a ding of a text.

Alex -is home: Sorry pocket dialed.

The rush of self-loathing that hit Michael as he read the message had been so strong he had dropped the phone on the floor of the trailer. That’s when he knew it wasn’t his feelings in his head because in all the years of knowing Alex, of loving Alex, he had never once felt disgust toward himself for his feelings for Alex. From the moment across a borrowed guitar, Michael had accepted the tilt of his axis toward Alex Manes as a fundamental fact, like force equalling mass times acceleration.

Alex hadn’t shared that comfort, and the more Michael tuned into what was going on in Alex’s head, the more his heart broke. Two things became clear to Michael over time; the occurrences were sporadic enough for him to know that he only felt them when Alex was specifically thinking about Michael when he jerked off, and the post-orgasm feelings of disgust and self-loathing were not isolated incidents for Alex to feel afterwards.

“Sometimes things end in a whimper, Guerin-” and Michael had numbly accepted that as proof that while Alex might enjoy thinking about his body, about the ways he had pleasured Alex in the past, Alex had no desire for anything more from Michael. The sex was epic, fodder for a late night fantasy, but Michael himself? He was not someone that Alex wanted to want. 

He had changed Alex’s name in his phone from “Alex -is home” to “Alex -is a bad idea” after that and then cursed himself for the trick of alien biology, doomed to be forever aware that he was an example of backsliding to Alex. When Maria had reached for him that night in Texas, he had welcomed her because she seemed at least self-aware of the fact she didn’t want to want him. There was zero chance of a misunderstanding between them that night, even as he kicked himself for still following after people who swore to him that it would never happen again.

For a long time after Caulfield, he had thought perhaps the grief of losing his mother had broken the link with Alex, setting them both free in the wreckage and dust of the prison. The dying psychic screams of his people had rolled over him, scorching his thoughts into cinders as that last connection to love and hope burned out in his mind, his mother’s life extinguishing under the thunder of Semtex and C-4. Then one night shortly after moving his trailer to the Wild Pony, it had happened again. The same overwhelming feeling of need, of longing, but this time the self-loathing afterwards had been accompanied by a crippling feeling of guilt. He had laid there in the twilight of the Wild Pony’s loft, having silently come into his palm while the sound of Maria’s breathing brushed against his ear. For the first time, he had joined Alex in that feeling of self-hatred. 

It was past the time for him to flip the switch from ‘tortured lust’ to some semblance of friendship with Alex, if he could and so tentatively, he agreed to work on uncovering his mother’s past together with him. He updated his phone again with that decision in mind to “Alex -sup bro”.

After Maria had learned the truth about Rosa and sent him away with betrayed eyes, he experienced a moment of weakness for Alex after the visit they had made to the Long Farm. There had been a lightness in how Alex had moved that day, his steps had been considered but committed as they had explored the last place his mother had felt at home on earth. Inside of Michael’s heart, he had been able to feel the pieces moving together while he had stood in a place where Nora had had a family, next to a man who had always represented that promise to Michael. The openness of Alex’s smile as they had waited for Forrest Long to reappear had had Michael thinking dangerous thoughts again about a future with him.

What if.  What if Alex were ready to take a step toward him without the weight of the past? 

That tenuous hope had lasted until the night after Alex had given him the piece of the ship’s console. Standing in his bunker near two am, he had been examining the new piece of his ship, of his past, puzzling over why it wasn’t bonding with the rest of the console when he had felt the awareness of Alex creep into his cells, into his DNA. Eagerly he had opened his jeans with both hands and had fisted his cock, letting himself go with the pull of Alex’s desire. In the aftermath, he had found himself on the floor of the bunker, with come dripping off a fallen drawing of a ship’s engine, but near tears with the knowledge that nothing had changed for Alex. It had still been the same fear flooding his veins, still the same anchor of tortured longing and deep shame weighing his limbs down even as he had been left wrecked by how good his body had felt.

It had been madness for Michael the next few months as he had fallen in deeper with Maria, while the connection with Alex had kept tugging at his soul. There had been little rhyme or reason to when it had happened. Weeks would pass where he apparently hadn’t crossed Alex’s mind once, and then there had been a week when every night Michael had been hit with the same mix of love, lust and bottomless need. Thankfully it had matched with the week-long retreat Maria and Mimi had taken together, saving Michael the work of explaining to her why he was wearing out the washing machines at the Fluff N Fold with his dirty sheets.

The self-torment Alex had felt about him had slowly lifted, to the point when Michael had found out the truth about Walt Sanders, he had called Alex without hesitation. The contact in his phone had changed to ‘Alex- best bro’. If he had finally become a measure of comfort for Alex to remember in his most personal moments, then perhaps Alex could also become a comfort to him, without the mire of their trauma holding them frozen in place. 

He had been fooling himself completely in the aftermath of Alex’s abduction that friendship would ever be enough for him. The wounds from his breakup with Maria had still been bleeding below his skin when he had stepped into the Wild Pony to hear Alex singing about him. About them. Then he had been hit with the connection, blossoming open for the first time ever in Alex’s actual presence under the spell of his song. 

There had still been a ghost of darkness in Alex’s feelings for him, as he had sung about fighting battles but for the first time in a long time, Michael had felt that there was hope that Alex was finally finding peace with Jesse dead. Despite Isobel’s prodding him to stay and make a move, he had known that it wasn’t their time yet. There had been too much grief and regret swirling in his head, and not just from Alex, but he could be patient for them both for the right moment. The connection had never felt more alive between them that night on the promise of a future.

At least that was what he had thought, until time had kept passing yet here he was, standing in his shower with his hand on his dick a year later, while Alex was across town in someone else’s bed but clearly thinking about him.

Michael watched as his seed dripped down the fiberglass walls, the shower spray sending it down the drain in an eddy of his own frustrated longing. His body was calm, at least, and his mind was buzzing with happiness from Alex. He concentrated on the euphoria floating between them in particular. Alex had soaked up pleasure this morning, pursuing it with a greed that Michael couldn’t help but admire, and then he had let himself go without any hint of shame. God, it felt good to know that Alex had finally found that comfort with himself.

He breathed in and out, counting the seconds down until the connection faded. Once it was over, he gave himself five more minutes under the hot spray, letting whatever was welling in his eyes, slip unseen down his face. He cursed his stupid alien biology in the same breath that he clung to it for giving him Alex again, if only briefly. 

After he was dressed for his brunch plans with everyone, he checked his phone before he left, to find a text from Alex. The contact had been updated one more time, six months after the Crashcon, from “Alex -best bro” to “Alex -bf”. Isobel had been way too excited to see that notation, until Michael had patiently explained it had stood for ‘best friend’. Maybe in another universe it was ‘boyfriend’, just not this one.

This wasn’t crumbs, he had argued to her, Alex was still a feast for him in whatever way he could have him. He read the text with his mind still working to box up the feelings that lingered for Alex, “Tell everyone we will be late- overslept”. The ‘we’ was what puzzled Michael the most about the whole situation over the last year. Why was Alex still thinking about Michael the way he did while he was with someone else?

AO3 link for more

[reidecorating]

the bau team and their star signs based on science

hotch: clearly an aries. this is not up for debate and i don't take criticism. natural born and excellent leader? maybe. but bossy boots because he is just a bossy boss man who probably sleeps in a suit or those pyjamas that have suit graphics on them? most definitely. when he speaks, his voice sounds like it’s coming out in all lower case, when he yells, it’s all caps. angery. down to throw hands at anything in his immediate line of vision probably. will exterminate you like a roach if you mess with someone he cares about. don't break the rules or my boss will kill me 😡 to you're breaking the rules under MY supervision, that way my boss will kill US 🥰. probably microwaves food a lot. type of dad to say no to getting a dog, then two months later get matching christmas costumes with said dog. never stops working because he is an absolute UNIT built like the circuit of one of those infinity pools in bali. could use another sabbatical.

rossi: i saw his birth certificate and the rumours are true, he’s a november sagittarius. two wives away from being a modern day king henry the eighth. it’s rossi’s world and we’re all just living in it. he is a prophet. his third eye has been opened and he ascended to the seventh dimension at the age of 24. when he takes leave, the only way to contact him is through a ouija board in latin or maybe greek depending on the position of the sun. he will only die when he chooses to die but will dissolve at the words ‘what are we?’. the major arteries in his body are just long pieces of macaroni. definitely has hooked up with one person from every state the jet has landed in. no filter between his brain and mouth, will destroy your self confidence intentionally. uses abbreviations when texting. liberal - because of the experimenting back in college. probably friends with your mum on facebook.

prentiss: imagine her being anything but an air sign. you can't because she's clearly an aquarius?? work comes first (first equal with her girlfriend). if you tell her to do something she simply won't do it, especially if it was something she was just about to do. she once came home from a run with her mother in the summer and her mother politely suggested that she should drink some water. emily, an anarchist, did not drink water and was hospitalised for heatstroke in due course of proving her point of nonconformity. has been to jail. sucks on candy canes and makes them pointy because christmas is one of her least favourite days. on probation. no, i really like him *deletes his number*. maybe moves to iceland to become a sheep herder to avoid having to ever see anyone she has romantically affiliated with ever again. actually quite the jester, joke levels exceed 4000, but can make you laugh and cry in the span of approximately the length of a short youtube ad. the antichrist.

morgan: has at some point caused someone to question their sexuality. am i really a straight man? do i really only like women? - direct quotes from anyone who has seen him. if that doesn't scream libra i don't know what does. i’m trying to refrain from using the words ‘hot’, ‘sex god’, ‘rail me’. the kinda guy who will hold open a door for you, but also have no problem kicking one down for you. has never ditched class before. momma’s boy. tries to make his pecs move in the mirror. he KNOWS he’s hot okay??? but THEN its not just that because people are like ‘oh he's attractive’ but then they find out he’s RESPECTFUL, and INTELLIGENT and COMPASSIONATE and then that awkward moment when you just DIE because he is not flawed??? it’s like he’s a lucid dream??? probably secretly is really good at baking some obscure european good. uses colognes that have really manly man sounding names for instance, ‘Man Musk’, ‘Mystical Muscles’, ‘Beards and Buttercream’.

garcia: the epitome of a female pisces. a baddie™. definitely owns a pair of those really skinny sunglasses that influencers wear and looks like god herself while in them. spirals from being the momma bear to the wine-aunt. she will care about you so hard but if that's not reciprocated, will hack into your my eyes only and fax those pictures to every machine she can connect to. accidentally has flirted her way into at least 19 relationships. really good at writing fan fiction??? like - seriously good. knows 4 different synonyms for the word “member” iykyk. researches things the people she loves most enjoy, so when she talks to them she can have more detailed conversations. catches feelings for people who are definitely not good for her. sometimes just takes off her glasses because she's tired of, well... seeing. hand makes cute lil earrings for her friends. a master at fireboy and watergirl and will never play with anyone else because ‘another player just slows you down, i can do it myself in half the time’. THAT FRIEND WHO WILL WAIT FOR YOU TO TIE YOUR LACES.

jj: virgo. she was definitely that girl who had notes with pretty titles and colour coded highlighters in school. also did extracurriculars in the weekends so she’d have to be picked up from sleepovers early to go to soccer games. when she takes the time to learn something she learns it well and perfects any craft handed to her because anything less than 100% is failure in her eyes. gets annoyed when other people cry for too long probably. will judge you. so much. silently. especially if you cry. don't make her mad because she has caused civil unrest in 13 continents. live, laugh, love signs in her kitchen. security footage surfaced in 2007 of her roundhouse kicking a middle aged man, in the junk food aisle of a trader joe’s, after he took the last re-stocked bag of cheetos. has a ‘mom first, agent second’ mug that garcia got her. likes family walks which will most likely be planned out meticulously, involving a detailed itinerary of the day i.e. Henry’s toilet break, 10AM

reid: he despises star signs and anyone who gives them any thought because “where is the SCIENCE?” this bitch is a scorpio. definitely only knows his sun sign. so intense! have you seen the way he looks at things?? the way he stares??? the way he analyses dead bodies??? the way he loves??? ridiculously put together to everyone around him but emotionally life is soup and he is fork. kinky. breaks off bananas little by little with his hands before eating each piece individually because eating them normally is too sensual and he’s paranoid morgan might see him doing it and take a picture. wants the kind of love he reads about. has a superiority complex about having a superiority complex. keeps a straight face while saying literally anything so you cannot tell if he’s being serious or not like one day he’ll just be like “yeah i killed a man with an axe once to enable myself to more easily empathise with future unsubs who potentially work as lumberjacks or have a history of logging. it’s called method axing,” and then leave the room to draw circles on maps or something. believes that parallel parking should work, in theory, but never seems to work for him in practice.

[scraregenrecs]

Rec Roundup - April 2021

Can you believe it's May?! Now that @sctropefest​ has run its course and so many people in the fandom are catching their breath – your rare & gen reccers included! – it's time to look at some of the fics we enjoyed from April 2021. As a reminder, we will be posting a master list of all of the Tropefest rare & gen fics once reveals are out, so stay tuned

Afternoon Delight by IAmHereIRL, Jake/David, rated E, 8652 words

Summary: This is the story of David and Jake's encounters from the end of season two to the start of season three

Rec [written by yourbuttervoicedbeau]: I think it’s fairly obvious by now that I’m a Jake Fan first and a human being second, so you KNOW anything with Jake’s name in the relationships tag is going to grab my attention. This is the author’s very first fic they’ve posted, and it’s just a delight — and the ending made me laugh out loud. 

Basically His Only Friend by jmda4, Alexis & Johnny (background Alexis & Roses, and Alexis/Ted), not rated (we'd call it G), 1414 words

Summary: Minutes after realizing that she'd miss her family, Alexis feels her stomach drop when she checks her phone and sees a stream of missed texts from Stevie.

"Your Dad's in the hospital. They don't know what's wrong."

"We're at Elmdale Hospital. He was having chest pain and couldn't breathe."

"Alexis?"

Rec [written by doingthemost]: I will forever be salty that Alexis wasn't involved in Johnny's hospital scare, and I'm also a complete sucker for Johnny's relationships with his children… so this fic was a delight to stumble upon. I'm happy to consider this part of canon from now on! 

coffee and catching up by @sarah--tonin, Patrick & Twyla, rated G, 535 words

Summary: patrick goes to the cafe the day after twyla gets back from nyc and wants to hear how it goes. because he and twyla are friends. :)

Rec [written by samwhambam]: I ALWAYS enjoy a good Twyla is friends with people fic. I love seeing her build friendships with members of the Rose family, and this fic shows a little friendship moment between Twyla and Patrick and it is so lovely! (with a little hint of Alexis/Twyla. It’s inspired by the fic Got You by colourcodedbinders

I would be complex, I would be cool by @yourbuttervoicedbeau, Alexis/Ruth, rating, 2220 words

Summary: Ruth doesn’t ask to stay the night, which is good; it saves Alexis from the awkwardness of coming up with an excuse for why she can’t. Ruth is gorgeous, and lovely, and fantastic in bed, but Alexis just isn’t looking for her next big love story right now. She’s not sure she’s over the last one.

Rec [written by doingthemost]: I'm absolutely enchanted with this world and the thought of these two confident, radiant characters getting theirs and more – and the reason why things shift from casual to the potential for more is so hilarious, I literally LOL every time I think about it. This is inventive, fun, sexy, and an utter thrill to read.  

Learn To Live On Less by @chronologicalimplosion​, Alexis & David, Ted & David, Ted/Alexis, rated T, 4509 words

Summary: For the first month and a half, even with the lists and the challenging reality of tailgates and homemade cheese balls, it doesn't even occur to David that his health might be affected by the move. His small black medicine clutch, already pre-packed in case of an Alexis emergency, had been practically the only nonissue the day the feds stormed through the house racing to touch everything of value in the house before the Roses could sweep it into their own arms. The bag had been solidly in-hand right after he emptied his cabinet of hair products haphazardly into a duffel and right before he chewed a bloody hole in the side of his mouth from the stress of having to manhandle his precious wardrobe in the name of expediency.

And then he wakes up--at a respectable 10:32--to an email from his old pharmacy notifying him that his automatic prescription refill date is coming up.

OR

The one where David Rose is a trans man and it's a little complicated transferring your HRT prescription to another country when you've lost all your money and are living out of a motel.

Rec [written by yourbuttervoicedbeau]: This is such a wonderfully done layer over canon that just fits. Both the ‘real time’ and the flashbacks are visceral and wonderful. David and Ted’s interactions are so, so funny, and I can’t wait for more of this series.

never thought i’d meet you here by @thankstwy and @landofsonlali, Ted/Alexis, rated G, 3716 words

Summary: David doesn’t know I’ve been writing you these letters though so this can be our little secret. One teensy little letter can’t hurt right?

Alexis and Ted exchange letters after he moves to the Galapagos.

Rec [written by yourbuttervoicedbeau]: Look my Ted/Alexis feelings are… too much for this forum, so let’s just say they’re a lot. Also if you’ve read… anything I’ve written you’ll know what a sucker I am for epistolary. Basically, even though this was a birthday gift for someone else entirely, it FEELS like it was made for me. There’s such a gamut of emotion in the letters that Ted and Alexis exchange, and you really feel what the characters are feeling. Also the choice for how to structure the two chapters (which I’m not going to spoil) is SO effective. And the ending! The ending. You’ll see.

Tell it to the Goats by @kindofspecificstore, Heather/Rachel, T, 23,318 words

Summary: Rachel loves chocolate cake, her houseplants, and Patrick Brewer. She's not a fan of her car breaking down on the drive out of Schitt's Creek. Thankfully Warner Farms comes to her rescue in more ways than one.

Rec [written by doingthemost]: I don't know what to say about this fic other than: READ IT! It's captivating, enchanting, and delightful, packed with lots of enjoyable Rachel introspection and queer feelings. I love how fic gives us an opportunity to expand on characters we barely get to meet and give them new life, and this is no exception. It's tagged "the wlw Hallmark movie we all deserve," and it's absolutely true.

The Seasons of Our Life by @treepyful, Stevie/Twyla, rated G (MCD warning), 666 words

Summary: Stevie used to know nothing about plants. (Stevie thinks about the late love of her life as she picks flowers)

Rec [written by samwhambam]: Beware: there is a MCD warning on this fic, but that happens before the store begins. Grief is hard and never ending and this fic perfectly describes a moment of peace after a death, where you are able to think of their memory and remember them as they were and their impact on your life and just love them. It’s short, and beautifully written and perfect and I just want to give Stevie a hug. Highly recommend.

Wake Up, Sunshine by @fraudulentzodiac, Stevie/Ruth, rating, 407 words

Summary: Stevie wakes up to Ruth making breakfast.

Rec [written by doingthemost]: This is the perfect, bite-sized fic, full of fluffy, wonderful domesticity. Despite its short length, their personalities ring true in every word. This fic is like a warm hug, just like the cozy morning it depicts.

Happy reading, friends!

[regrettablewritings]

Can I request a Love head canon with Geralt please? I just read the pre-relationship one you did for Jaskier and I absolutely loved it!!

I mean... I can try 😅 Though, I think it should go without saying that Geralt isn’t exactly synonymous with love and affection as we relatively human beings interpret them . . .

Who said “I love you” first?: Assuming we’re sticking strictly to the verbal expression of the phrase, I believe you already know the answer to this. After all, it’s simply not in Geralt’s nature to be the most talkative person, much less vulnerable and affectionate. And that’s referring to his nature as being Geralt of Rivia and not specifically his nature of being a Witcher. You could wait an entire run of three human lifetimes and still potentially have to wait just a bit more to hear Geralt willingly say, “I love you” in this manner. It’s nothing against you, of course, but it’s better for you to recognize this and accept it than force otherwise. Besides, it’s not as though he doesn’t appreciate it: Deep down, Geralt is beyond startled that you would willingly apply such affection and devotion to him of all people, and a Witcher at that! Though, if you’re willing to stretch the expression one uses for “I Love you”, then it’s arguable that Geralt said it first, in some way, considering that . . .

What are their primary love languages?: Geralt is a very . . . sexual being. Physically aggressive. And considering his complex relationship with Yennefer, it therefore would stand to reason that his primary expression of “love” comes in the form of physical touch. Hell, if love languages were a thing acknowledged of the period (and if Geralt ever even cared to acknowledge them), he might’ve grunted and agreed so himself, even if only to get the conversation over faster. But the longer he spends having you as his companion, the more evident it becomes to him that this may not be the case. The thing is, physical touch can be more than just sexual release -- but for him, that’s all it ever was, simply because it was easier for him to do when Yennefer was still around. But since then, he’s come to recognize that perhaps he has more to offer than he gave himself credit for: Geralt operates through acts of service. Geralt is never going to be the most openly expressive one of the bunch, even when it pertains to you. But he’s always going to show his care for those whom he has a soft spot for by assuring their safety and well-being -- in odds and ends, so to speak. He’s never going to write you sonnets or wax poetically to you; he will rarely hold your hand just for the sake of doing so, or be the best at offering words that could technically be comprehended as affectionate. But when he notices you’re tired, he won’t hesitate to place you on Roach’s back -- an absolute honor, considering his protectiveness towards the mare. He’ll make sure that you’re warm and sheltered when you break camp, even if it comes at the cost of his own comfort (not that he feels much of a difference after this point anyway). If he thinks you may be doing something or even considering doing something that might put you in harm’s way or cause you mental or emotional pain, he’s unafraid to shoot that shit down (he loves you enough to let you hate him, so to speak). It may be the bare minimum that he saves you from a death of cold or starvation or hazardous encounters, but for him, it’s a way of showing he at least respects your right to continue living. He doesn’t really expect anything back besides respect. And perhaps some . . . physical comforts. But, once again, to his surprise, he’s not solely focused on physical touch when it comes to you. At least, not as intensely as he normally would be. What Geralt specifically appreciates form you is words of affirmation. But only from you: None of that showy, obnoxious nonsense that Jaskier calls music. Geralt likes feeling recognized as a person, questionable as that sort of title might actually be. He just likes being talked to to a degree, over small things. The affirmations come where you openly appreciate him for his efforts and bravery, and even when you thank him for taking care of you. Being a Witcher is a thankless job. But hearing you appreciate him for everything, big and small, and acknowledging his more humanistic traits at the same time? It does him more good than both you and he ever thought it could.

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?: The closest you get is when the two of you are either in a very crowded market place or are running and you’re having trouble keeping up: He’ll hold your hand to assure you don’t get separated or left behind. There’s also, of course, the preservation of body heat when the both of you wind up breaking camp on a particularly cold night.  But other than that, I wouldn’t expect much in the ways of affection.

What are their favorite things to do together?: The lifestyle you both lead (well, that Geralt leads -- you simply adopted it by association) doesn’t exactly lend itself well to couples’ hobbies . . . But the two of you haven’t bitten each other’s throats out yet, so clearly you’re doing something right, no? You aren’t quite sure what it is, but you heavily suspect that it might be when you ask Geralt to tell you about the creatures he’s encountered. Not in the “Tell Me Stories of Your Amazing Feats” kind of way, but more so in a manner of “Please Make Me Aware of the Weird, Strange, and Horrific Beings Lurking in This World and How To Combat Them”. Which suits Geralt well enough, as he tends to skimp on the details and doesn’t care to describe battles or anything of the sort. He knows that you’ll never be a Witcher, but it surely couldn’t hurt you to have an awareness of the world around you. Besides, he’s witnessed far too often the slaughtering of perfectly harmless creatures due to ignorance -- he feels a sense of relief when you express an interest in learning how to differentiate beasts with intentions of harm and beasts that simply want to be left alone unless provoked.

Who’s better at comforting the other?: Neither of you is especially great at it, but for different reasons. Though it should at least be said that you’re better skilled at comforting than Geralt is: You by far are the more emotionally available and intelligent one between the two of you, so the efforts you put forward are at least more overt. However, given that Geralt is a rather standoffish person and not especially prone to expressing vulnerabilities of any kind, it’s hard for you to know if you’re getting through to him. He won’t make it blatantly obvious if something is bothering him unless it’s bothering him in a way that earns his aggression -- and even then, he doesn’t need comfort, he needs you to gently chide him and calm him down as one does to an agitated horse or dog. Or a wolf, in this case. Meanwhile, Geralt . . . just isn’t the best at comforting people. At least, not in the most traditional sense. When he tries to be, it comes off very awkwardly, the words not filled confidence as much as they are hesitancy. It’s only made worse by the fact that his gruff, barely-used voice just isn’t compatible with the words he tries to use. Which is why he feels the best he can really offer to do is just say nothing at all. He won’t reject you or even flinch if you were to bury yourself into his side, instead just slowly placing an arm around you and trying to give a consoling, if stiff, pat on the back. Please know that this is him trying his best, and that he’ll be far more relieved than you’ll be if you actually do find some semblance of comfort in his seemingly low-effort efforts.

Who’s more protective?: Geralt wouldn’t consider what he does protection -- it’s simply what he, well, does. He’s always fighting creatures (and people) in self-defense or for a cause of some kind. And whenever Jaskier joins the two of you, or once Ciri becomes a part of his life, the job only intensifies. Him keeping you alive is simply common decency, lover or not. But if one were to ask someone who’s more emotionally observant like, say, a certain bard who occasionally accompanies the two of you, then he would beg to differ: Geralt is fiercely protective of you, he just does so quietly. Contrary to his stony nature,he does value your well-being. And even if you’re a commendable fighter, he acknowledges that it’s not as up to snuff as his own, making him feel more obligated to assure you come out of encounters alive and well. This is more obvious in the wilderness, of course, but when it comes to civilization he tends to become a bit more lax. He trusts you enough to measure your options when, say, some men at a pub are making particularly bawdy comments about you. He also trusts you to know when to whip out that knife you always keep on you. However, you needn’t worry about him turning a blind eye, should things threaten to escalate: Whether you’re at a marketplace buying some necessities, or paying for your meal at a tavern, Geralt is never so far away that he can’t keep a close eye on you or be unable to step in, should the environment intensify.

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?: Geralt likes verbal affirmations, yes, but don’t discount physical: At least he doesn’t have to talk or respond when at the end of a long day, you sit next to him and nuzzle your head up to the crook of his neck. Plus there’s the whole intimacy he experiences for the first time in its true form when you and he finally decide to take that step.

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?: Hm. It’s hard to say, especially considering that Geralt is a hard person to apply music to, much less music with a narrative or one that actually sounds like anything he might listen to, particularly in a romantic setting. I had to push past that mindset just to pick anything, and what that got me to conclude was something along the lines of “Love Like You” by Rebecca Sugar or "Resilience” by Thomas Newman. Maybe “My Blood” by Twenty-One Pilots. I can’t place exactly how or why, especially sound-wise, but these just stood out to me in particular . . .

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?: You two don’t really resort to nicknames, actually. “Geralt” isn’t exactly an easy name to harvest a nickname out of, and he doesn’t do anything that particularly warrants one in reference to an idiosyncrasy. The closest you ever got was trying out “Wolfy” in reference to his title as “The White Wolf” but the look the attempt received, coupled with your own realized distaste for it, made you drop it in an instant. And Geralt just isn’t the sort to apply nicknames in the first place.

Thank you for requesting this! I hope I did okay . . .

[amazildoessomethingstupid]

Chapter 68: December

Hey guys, welcome back.  As you can tell by the title, we have a very special rant in store.  As you guys may know, this rant series is meant to be about me catching up with BCB and where it’s been going recently, and give my thoughts about it.  But today we are going to be doing something a little different, instead we are going to go back.  And I mean WAY back.  To one of if not the most notorious, the most infamous chapter in all of Bittersweet Candy Bowl.  That’s right boys and girls…

WARNING: Very long Tumblr breaking rant below the break.

If you’re wondering why I’m doing this, it’s mostly because I wanted to do another Let’s Rant video but most of the boys don’t know about BCB.  So when I made comparisons to December, they didn’t really understand what I was talking about.  And I know that some of you new viewers may not understand why people hate December as much as we do.  To really understand, you must put yourself in the shoes of a dedicated reader.  Back to the year of 2011, a simpler time.  A dark time.  And we start off with one of my personal favorite pages in Bittersweet Candy Bowl.

SNOW.  FUCKING SNOW!

FUCK. YEEEAAAAAAAH! LET’S HEAR IT FOR FUCKING SNNNNNNOOOOOWWWWWWWW!

Alright that may seem like an over reaction, but let me set the stage for you alright, because at the time that this chapter came out I was a dedicated reader.  And I mean full blown fan, waiting for the hour to change to read the pages as they came out.  And at this time, Taeshi was going through a real rough time and it was quite apparent to everyone who was in the community.  The plot seemed to stagnate, and there wasn’t much happening.  Taeshi’s behavior had grown very strained and it was the common consensus that she needed to take a break.  

So she did, and in order to take a break the upload schedule turned to two pages a week… The problem was that up to this point, Bittersweet Candy Bowl was uploading on an every other day upload schedule.  Now the problem that comes when you slow down your schedule like that, is that it’s meant to be temporary, or that you compensate that with content in the pages and chapter that makes the wait more bearable or at least less tedious…

Now with all that in mind. Imagine if you will, that you had to wait 4 days for a new page to start a new chapter, and you were greeted by…

FUCKING SNOW! And a dread filled your heart as you realized you’d have to stare at snow for another full 2 days before you could look at something else, and hope that it’s more interesting than fucking. Snow.

The next page does not disappoint though, because now we actually have characters! And dialogue!

And look a joke, haha! Except

Look at all the characters in this page.  You got Daisy, you got Paulo, you got abbey, you got David, you got sir Noodles, and you got a reinforcing action to remind us about how Abbey and Paulo’s relationship is.

Guess how how many or which of these characters actually matter in this chapter or have an effect on it. Can you guess?

Yup, yeah that’s right none of em.  Not a single fucking one of these characters matter.  Not a single fucking thing in this page fucking matters at all, it barely even constitutes as a set up for the rest of the chapter.  Congratulations, we just wasted a week of your time. Actually I was wrong, you know what the one and only thing that this page does that means anything?

There! That one fucking line.  You waited a whole fucking week to digest two pages and all it really tells you that you didn’t know is what FUCKING TIME IT IS! EXCEPT EVEN THAT IS TOLD TO YOU

BY THE TITLE OF THE FUCKING CHAPTER! I am losing my shit this early because I want to make it abundantly clear just how infuriating this chapter was to read.  This was when I realized we were in for a LONG ride.  To better understand this, the chapters that preceded this one were centered around Lucy’s slow decline into depression, after her friendship with Mike had become fractured leading to her isolating (or at least distancing herself) from Mike (and the rest of the gang by proxy). This chapter was billed to be the culmination of all that fallout, which makes this pacing SO GRATING.

Thankfully page 3 actually does have characters that matter, and it actually is a set up for what the chapter is going to be centered around which is the kids working on a World War 2 Essay.  

And we finally get a bit of substance to sink our teeth into! But before we go any further I should tell you a bit about my. Man. Mike. So Mike is a moody bitch.  I talked a bit about what happened to Lucy, but Mike despite literally NOTHING happening to him directly since then aside from the rest of the gang not understanding why he wanted to separate from Lucy is still being moody and bitchy.  And here we see him reach PEAK MOODY MIKE!

Haha that’s an actually good joke.  I appreciated that when it came out.  

And so, because Mike is being a moody bitch he ends up sealing his fate and is paired with Lucy. And for a second here, I had hope. Since Taeshi is pretty much declaring how frustrating and stupid Mike’s moodiness has been for the past number of chapters.  Also while we’re here, I’d like to point out how everyone in this page apparently got their arm lopped off.  I mean look!

At least Lucy was able to find her right arm at the end there.  But also, look at Abbey!

Oh look at him, you can see how he cares about Mike’s position on distancing from Lucy!  Awww such a good friend.  Oh he’s definitely not going to make a heel turn and accuse others of not caring about Mike!

I am so glad I saved that image.

Anyway the next page is Mike and Lucy deciding to go to the library to work on the essay.

And then the page after that is Lucy trying to make an effort to ease the awkwardness, while Mike gives her the cold shoulder. Congratulations.  We have spent a week, walking to the fucking library.

The monotony is broken up though, as we get to see that Augustus is at this library.

It doesn’t stop the back and forth that we just got in the last two pages from continuing though, and as a reminder this is all that we’ve been given to sustain ourselves for three whole weeks!

At least Augustus is able to break up this feet-dragging by giving us SOMETHING different to talk about.

Ooh look, something actually interesting! We get some insight into Lucy and Augustus’ relationship. For context, Augustus has been a very interesting side-character; one of the best.  And his relationship with Lucy is a pretty nice one with its own complexities and great chemistry.  As I’ve mentioned before, Lucy had spent the last few chapters isolating herself from Mike to try to let things cool off and respect his wishes.  In that time, she ended up finding company in Augustus, the resident bad boy.  He was suspected of attempted rape on Daisy, but we’re not talking about that.

Well maybe a little.

Lucy expresses what she’s dealing with and like before, she’s trying to find understanding from Augustus.

And he is having NONE OF IT! As someone who actually has serious problems, he calls Lucy out for being a privileged blue-eyed white cat whose only problem in life is being rejected by someone she loves.  

But Augustus does give Lucy some advice, in how he sees and deals with his situation.  Showing that while he does think Lucy is stupid for even thinking about killing herself over Mike, he does want to help her.  It’s just…

He’s wrong.  He’s so fucking wrong.

We now know through the power of hindsight, that Abbey and Daisy’s relationship was a total sham! It wasn’t a healthy loving relationship at all! It was all a lie!

GOTTA LOVE THEM RETCONS AMIRITE?!

Nah we haven’t even STARTED to begin.

Anyway, Augustus leaves and we’re back to this bullshit.  Now Mike’s not just being moody, he’s being judgy!

Oh no, fuck you Lucy! I don’t want anything to do with you, I want you to be out of my life!

Hey, what are you doing, talking and having a conversation with someone I don’t care about?  Stop being such a leech! Just because I don’t want you to be in my life, doesn’t mean you can just go and move on to find company in other people!  Why don’t you just die alone and unloved like I tell you to?!

But don’t worry right after, Lucy breaks the ice and gets a smile out of the boy!

It’s a breath of fresh air, and we see the dynamic with the two is still there and-

No, I didn’t buy that when this page came out either. It’s meant to portray that Lucy can make Mike feel better and break him out of his funk, but…yeah at this point I knew better. By the way, it has now been one whole month of December.

And we’re only a third of the way through.

And thankfully we’re out of the library.  And even more fortunately…

Taeshi learned that you don’t have to spend two whole updates on moving your characters from one location to the other!  She’s learned you can smash two pages together and NOT WASTE YOUR AUDIENCE’S FUCKING TIME!

As for the actual content of this page, Lucy and Mike go to Mike’s house and we get a bit of Lucy interacting with Mike’s family, and how they get along well.  Mike’s still moody as ever though, and we get our first glimpse that things aren’t perfect for him.  Also

RIP the boy, Chris. he ain’t dead but I do miss him.

Anyway, the two go to Mike’s room to study, and it’s still awkward until Lucy breaks the silence!

Old joke is old, but I love it nonetheless.

Okay, enough foolin’ around. Actually Lucy decides that she’s tired of pussyfooting around, and decides to say, “fuck it” and let off some steam by playing some video games like old times!

Mike is of course denying it and content in stewing in his anger. But lucy is adamant about doing something to break this stupid cycle of drama.  I like it.  Even though I didn’t buy the bit of Lucy making Mike laugh by showing a funny face, this one I do like.  And while some (especially at the time) would point to this as an example of Lucy emotionally manipulating Mike to get what she wants in making him not angry at her, I would say-

SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LET ME HAVE THIS ONE, JUST THIS ONCE!  I HAVE BEEN SO GOD DAMN CONTENT STARVED, THIS FUCKING DRAMA HAS BEEN GOING AROUND IN CIRCLES FOR ALMOST TWO YEARS!  MIKE AND LUCY HAVEN’T TALKED OR ADVANCED THEIR POSITIONS IN MONTHS! LET ME EMBRACE THIS ONE LIGHT IN DARKNESS BEFORE IT IS SNUFFED OUT!  LET. ME. HAVE. HOPE.

THANK YOU!

And so after a bit of a timelapse we get to see Mike and Lucy playing together, and how the turns tabled!

It’s great, and we even get a glimpse at how Lucy has been progressing herself.  Perhaps the improvement in gaming being a metaphor of her own self-improvement.

We even get a bit of Mike reflecting and thinking how it is nice.  And remembering that Lucy isn’t really that bad.

The scene continues, and we get a peek into Mike’s circumstance.  As Mike kind of reveals that he himself has felt quite alone without Lucy there.  And it’s really touching, it’s good character development.

And Lucy continues to take initiative to stop the awkwardness, by giving Mike a distraction. Not looking to fill the hole in his heart, not looking to force him to accept her.  But allowing him to enjoy himself in the moment.  It’s nice.  It’s…

Really…nice…

Y’know…

It really was nice.

Ladies and gentlemen.

This is December.

[redacted due to Tumblr purposes.  insert the entire Mike yelling scene from January here]

One month.   That’s how long this scene lasted in real-time. Everyone who was a fan in 2011, everyone who had been so deeply invested in these characters watching them grow, interact, struggle, and suffer for years.  All of them could only watch for one entire month as Taeshi ripped their hearts out. People defended this scene when it came out.  There’s still people who defend this scene to this day, saying that Mike was right.  I wasn’t one of those people.  When this scene came out, I was shocked.  I couldn’t understand what was going on, but I knew it was wrong.  It was the first time I ever got into a discussion about BCB, because I just had to understand what the fuck was happening and why.  Why is this happening?  Why would Mike do this?  How is this possible?  And the only response I got, was that I just couldn’t understand.  And y’know…

They were right.  I didn’t understand.  I was never really abused as a child.  I never had bad friends, or was really bullied (except one time).  There was no way I could grasp what the fuck just happened.  Which felt so bizarre, because when this chapter came out…I was 15. I was the same age as these characters and I couldn’t fathom doing what Mike just did.  I couldn’t imagine any of my friends saying what Mike just said. And yet everyone else seemed to understand, to the point I thought that I was the weird one.   Did I just fucking win the social lottery or something and just not have any shitty friends?

Maybe so…But y’know after all these years, stewing and thinking about December which has haunted me as I’m sure it has, many other readers.  And after all this time, running it around my head, and arguing about it, I think I finally understand.  I get it…I finally get what Mike’s saying here.

That being said, no this scene is still bullshit.

Now let me tell you why.

First of all, look at this face.

Just look at this dopey doe-eyed cute cat right here, BECAUSE YOU WILL NEVER SEE THAT AGAIN.

But just to recap, let’s start with the actual preamble to the bullshit.  Mike gets a text from Sandy which makes him revert back to his moody Mike self.  And I will say at least here, Mike is in character.  He’s been a bitch this whole chapter, and he’s just snapping back to it because he is reminded “Oh yeah, Sandy exists!” so he tells Lucy to beat it.

Lucy is understandably frustrated because we were seeming to finally get to a better place between these two characters.  And instead of Mike being upfront about what his problem is, he chooses to shutdown the conversation and act like there’s nothing.  Or to put it in another way…

So what exactly is causing Mike to revert to his moody mode?

Right, right, of course. It’s because Sandy’s coming!  And just to catch up those of us blessed enough to not remember…

This is Sandy.  Mike’s long time long-distance girlfriend and central conflict for BCB for the last…well for pretty much most of BCB at this point.  Mike loves her, bordering on the point of obsession.  To where most of his actions in BCB can be linked directly to Sandy.  We’ll get to that later, but this is all you really need to know right now.  Just briefly keep it in mind,

Lucy is surprisingly taking it in stride, or at least trying to be supportive of Mike and Sandy’s relationship.  Obviously it does hurt her, but she is trying to make the best of it.  Taking what Augustus had said to heart, in accepting Mike and Sandy’s relationship but still trying to be there for Mike.  Using that to grow and maybe be a stronger person.

But sadly…this is December.

And nothing is allowed to grow in December.

Well…yes.  Partly because we were literally told NINE PAGES AGO!

I believe this is what the kids call…gaslighting. But I prefer to call it

BULLSHIT!

But now we’re getting into it…

Let’s dig into the real hard bullshit of December.

You ready?

I’m ready.

Yes, right.  Lucy is a bitch who has absolutely nothing for Mike, and never acted like a friend, or god forbid did something selfless for Mike like oh I don’t know…

Risking her life to try to save you from drowning, when she herself couldn’t swim and knew it could very well lead to her death.

Or what about when she was almost raped, and put literally put herself between you and danger!

TWICE! Wait, what the hell? They changed Confrontation! She’s supposed to say…

Because before mike got pinned he was saying…

That was like an actually cool and bad ass line.  One of the best moments in BCB, why would you change it?  Why would you change it to something as soft as that? And I’m the guy who wrote a comic where the moral of the story is that you can solve everything through the power of friendship!

But I digress.  Was Lucy mean to Mike?  Yeah.  Did she pick on him a lot in the early chapters? Sure!  But here’s the thing that people seem to forget about those early volumes…

Mike was kind of a little shit back then!

Lucy often picked on Mike because he was doing something wrong like trying to treat her like Sandy.

And lest you forget, Mike was more than capable of doing the exact same things!

Yes Lucy picked on Mike, but Mike also gave shit to Lucy.  They both were active participants in giving shit to one another, but no it’s not bullying.  It’s giving someone shit for doing something stupid, to keep them grounded, it’s a form of support that helps to build someone up not just through violent means, but because you care enough to want them to stop being stupid.  And as the saying goes, “A good friend will hold you and support you to tell you everything will be okay no matter what. Your best friend, will kick you in the side and tell you to stop being a pussy and get over it.”

BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT FRIENDS FUCKING DO! THEY DON’T LIFT YOU UP! THEY MAKE YOU PICK YOURSELF UP! AND Y’KNOW WHY MIKE IS THINKING THIS WAY?  YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT THE FUCKING CHERRY ON TOP OF THIS BULLSHIT CAKE IS?!

Sandy…

Mother…Fucking…Sandy. Up to this point Sandy herself had little to no presence as a person in this story. I mean she had an effect on a lot of things, but as an actual character we never got to see much of her personality outside of one standalone chapter: To the Top which only served to give us a shallow and basic understanding of her character.  But even then, as far as actual personality, writing, hobbies, and chemistry we really didn’t get much at all as far as understanding who she is. The only things we knew for certain was that she’s in a long-term long-distance relationship with Mike. She’s a model.  She goes to school.  And she’s beautiful.  That’s it. But that in and of itself doesn’t make Sandy a bad character.  I mean for cryin’ out loud, two my favorite characters that I shoe-horn into all my projects are McCain and Carter.  And they’re the most one-note characters in this comic! No, the problem with Sandy isn’t that we don’t know anything about her.  It’s that despite us knowing nothing about her, Sandy has her fingerprints on almost every fucking conflict in Bittersweet Candy Bowl.  And worse, the only purpose she seems to have on the comic is INFLUENCING MIKE! Let me pull some examples…

Mike and Lucy go on an adventure into the city which fleshes out the inner problems in their relationship.

Because Sandy might be there.

Mike and Lucy are starting to act awkward with each other, and it’s making everyone take notice. Why?

Because Mike is delusional about Sandy.

In the chapter directly after that, Mike is now suddenly obnoxiously happy and giddy, why?

Because he finally got to talk with Sandy!

It’s Christmas time, and Tess is having a party and Mike’s coming, why?

BECAUSE OF FUCKING SANDY!

Mike rebuffs Daisy’s advances during the carnival date…why?

Because of Sandy!

Although, to be fair of course there WAS a lot of other things going on in that scene, primarily Daisy being REALLY pushy, and needy.  So it’s not JUST because of Sandy.  It was because we just weren’t ready for Slut Daisy. The Free Daisy.

Tess is organizing a group vacation trip to Acapulco!

And what’s this? Mike doesn’t want to go? Is it because he thinks Lucy is gonna go and he wants to separate himself from her? Is it because he’s finally woken up and decided to stand up for himself?!

NO YOU FUCKING IDIOT! IT’S BECAUSE OF MOTHER FUCKING SANDY! AND THE WORST PART OF IT ALL, IS THAT NONE OF THESE SCENES ARE EVER DIRECTLY BECAUSE OF SANDY’S ACTIONS AS A PERSON! IT’S LITERALLY JUST BECAUSE SHE EXISTS! YOU COULD MAKE UP ANYTHING ABOUT SANDY, AND SHE WOULD STILL HAVE THE SAME FUCKING IMPACT ON THE STORY THAT SHE HAS HAD UP TO THIS POINT! All that Sandy’s character has been used for is just a means of influencing Mike!

And that’s not a character…that’s a plot device.  

And nothing makes that point more clear…than this scene.

We get a scene where Mike is talking with Sandy, and he shows how over and over, Lucy’s jabs and abuses which were played for laughs in Volume 1 apparently were a super serious problem and we should’ve seen them as such.  Now as a reader, I didn’t buy that for a fucking second, for reasons I’ve already explained.  However, Sandy being on the other side of that long-distance relationship doesn’t fully understand the situation.  But still she’s very worried and concerned for Mike, which leads to this.

Sandy making Mike hate Lucy. Some have pointed out that this is actually a good scene.  Because here we get to see that Sandy at least cares about Mike.  Except that, if you strip away those tears, and all the bullshit.  What little characterization we get here, which is shit we already know in Sandy caring about Mike and Lucy’s relationship.  Is something we should already know.  She’s in a long-term long-distance relationship with Mike SHE FUCKING BETTER CARE ABOUT LUCY! The problem though, is like I said… Sandy isn’t treated like a fucking character.  She’s treated like a fucking plot device! If she were an actual character, we should’ve seen her actually have a back and forth with Mike.  The whole conversation about Lucy should’ve come up a LONG time ago.  Because if she were treated like an actual character with agency…

She would’ve already known this.  

You telling me that after how many phone calls, in the time that elapsed between these phone scenes Mike never actually told her about Lucy; the other biggest part of his life?!  Did Mike never tell her about the amount of times that Lucy almost died to save his life?  Or the amount of times he did the same for her?  No! Because that would bring character growth.  And we don’t want character growth.

We want to push this narrative! We want to implant these thoughts into Mike.  We want him to have  a victim complex so that he can do shit like THIS!

We want to push this plot point.  And Sandy is the vessel to drive it off the cliff. This is why I fucking hate December. Because worst of all THIS…

Is no longer Mike speaking. This is Sandy’s influence speaking. Now LITERALLY ALL THE FUCKING SHIT THAT MIKE PEDALLED ABOUT NOT WANTING TO BE LUCY’S BABY SITTER AND BULLSHIT, CAN NOW BE ATTRIBUTED TO SANDY INFLUENCING HOW MIKE SEES HIS OWN FRIENDSHIP! And since we don’t have a clear timeframe of where these calls were made, and when exactly Sandy got through to Mike, that means you could pick any time where Mike was being cold or distancing from Lucy and blame it on Sandy! Including…

This scene…

Lest you think characters were the only casualty of December’s nuclear blast, it took with it one of the most emotionally tense and moving chapters of Bittersweet Candy Bowl: A Distance Apart.  

I’ve already talked about this chapter in my rant on Golden Hour (aka December 2: homosexual boogaloo) so I’m not gonna get too into how the perspective of this chapter was changed because of December, but I will say that lines like the above now are specifically what’s tainted because of December.  No longer is this Mike realizing that Lucy isn’t who he thinks she is, or him realizing that their relationship is not a healthy one on his own. It’s because as he said himself!

It’s Sandy’s fault.  Because all she heard about Lucy was the negative, and now all Mike can see is the negative.  And this chapter is saying it’s all Sandy’s fault that Mike now has a victim complex and it’s totally fair for him to say what he’s about to say.  

WAIT! DID YOU JUST SAY…

JANUARY?!

Hah, nah I’m just fuckin’ with ya.  We’re trying to stay focused here, so I’m holding off on the January references. Don’t worry kids, you’re safe for now.

For now…

Let’s unpack this first, because believe it or not we still have a LOT of ground to cover. Specifically, let’s talk about Mike’s glorious plan to leave the table!

God it is taking a lot to not just paste panels from Daisy’s rant in January.  You people have no idea… But to summarize, this is fucking stupid at best and manipulative at worst.  What Mike is talking about, is selfishly pide-pipering their whole friend group (minus Tess because Tess doesn’t exist anymore) away from Lucy, and he’s betting all of that on the fact that he knows Daisy is still head over heels for him.  And what’s absolutely stupid about this fucking idea (which by the way seems to be premeditated so this can’t even be blamed on Sandy) is that if this was Mike’s plan all along.  And December didn’t happen, and he did this table move guess what? Sure.  Daisy follows Mike, Abbey and Paulo follow Daisy, and David follows Paulo…and then they invite Lucy, because in case you forgot SHE’S THEIR FRIEND TOO! (also I just noticed Mike completely forgot about Susan.  That’s kinda fucked up, dude.)

But not as fucked up as this!  Seriously, that’s a fucking low blow.  And so fucking judgy.  I guess we now know where Abbey learned to stoop so low while grand standing on his high horse! And yes I have heard the “muh hormones” and “they’re just KiDs!” excuses.  But none of that really explains…

WHY THE FUCK DOES MIKE CARE?!  DO YOU SERIOUSLY CARE IF LUCY (as you would put it) LEACHES OFF OF PAULO?  HE’S LIKE ONE OF THE TOP OFFENDERS FOR PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY ABUSED YOU! THE MOTHERFUCKER SICCED A GAGGLE OF GIRLS TO BEAT UP ON YOU FOR BEING A “CHEATER”! Or are you worried because if Lucy clings to Paulo, then it ruins your fool-proof plan of going to another table since she’ll follow Paulo?  OH NO, WE’VE FOUND A HOLE IN YOUR INGENIOUS PLAN!  But speaking of worst offenders…

THIS. LINE.  THIS FUCKING LINE!  I don’t care who you are, I don’t care what the fuck you think.  YOU DO NOT COME BACK FROM SAYING THIS.  YOU CAN NOT FUCKING SAY THIS SHIT, AND THEN BE THE GOOD GUY! This is the point where I and many others realized Mike, was too far gone.  And yet SOME PEOPLE WILL STILL ARGUE ABOUT THIS SHIT!

Oh you don’t understand, Amazil! He is just a stupid 16 year old ball of emotions and hormones!  This has been building up THIS ENTIRE TIME! You even pointed out how Mike’s frustrations have been hinted at since the Vacation Arc! Obviously this has been hinted at for years! You’re just too ignorant to understand what Mike’s doing here! Of course he’s being overly cruel here, he feels backed into a corner, and is facing off against his abuser!

Now listen here, you may be right.  I can’t, I hope, and I am grateful that; I don’t fully understand how it feels to be abused for all my life.    But what I do know, is that NO ONE. Child, Teenager, or adult.  Would fucking stoop that fucking low, and think they have any business.  Any chance. Of coming back from that terribly burnt bridge. No one is that fucking ignorant!  WHEN YOU BURN A BRIDGE LIKE THAT, WHEN YOU GO THAT FAR, YOU BETTER FUCKING BE READY TO LIVE WITH THE CONSEQUENCES!  AND MIKE AT THIS POINT, SHOULD KNOW VERY WELL WHAT THE CONSEQUENCES MAY INCLUDE!  AS THE PERSON WHO KNOWS LUCY MORE THAN ANYONE ELSE ABOUT LUCY, HE SHOULD BE FULLY FUCKING AWARE WHAT SHE IS GOING TO FUCKING DO WHEN TOLD THAT SHE IS A PARASITE AND THAT NO ONE FUCKING LOVES HER, WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU EXPECT SHE WAS GOING TO FUCKING DO, MIKE?!

JESUS CHRIST, HE’S LITERALLY USING HER DEEPEST SECRETS AND HIDDEN INSECURITIES THAT ONLY HE KNOWS ABOUT AGAINST HER! HOW THE FUCK DO YOU SUPPORT THIS SHIT?  AND FURTHERMORE, “Like I’m the only one who cares about you.” TO QUOTE YOU LITERALLY A PAGE AGO!

YOU FUCKING TOLD HER THAT NOBODY LOVES HER.  AND THAT SHE’S A FUCKING PARASITE!  HOW ARE YOU THIS FUCKING STUPID!  HOW CAN YOU STILL THINK THAT YOU’RE IN THE RIGHT?  HOW DO OTHER PEOPLE THINK YOU’RE IN THE RIGHT?  HOW CAN YOU STOOP SO FUCKING LOW, WHILE GRAND STANDING ON YOUR HIGH HORSE?!

Now, imagine if you will, after 2 whole months of reading December.  You sit there and you wonder what is going to happen now.  What is left to say?  What more is Mike going to do? I mean there’s no way this chapter can get any worse!  There’s NO WAY that Mike can be any more of an asshole.  It’s not possible!  And as if to get one last knife twist out of you.  To kill the last shred of hope you had, that maybe.  Just maybe this could be salvaged, and Mike can’t be worse… Taeshi does this.

….

Y’know, I once heard a story that someone actually killed themselves over BCB.

And I completely believe that.  Two whole months we spent, having to watch week after week as this character we cared about.  Rips apart the other character we’ve spent so much time learning about, growing with, understanding, and learning to love.  And how do you end this chapter?

Grindingly slow.   With Lucy throwing up, then eyeing Mike’s phone.

Followed by a nothing page where Mike’s happy.

Another nothing page where Mike goes to his room.

Dialogue that means nothing.

A whole fucking page of Lucy leaving.

MORE FUCKING SNOW

And one last lie.

And that, kids.  Is the chapter of December.  The most infamous chapter in all of Bittersweet Candy Bowl.  And I hope you’re starting to understand why that is the case.  Although, I’m sure a lot of you may have some contentions especially given the newer chapters that have come out.  I mean, I often compare bad or infuriating scenes to December. And many may wonder or feel like those chapters are worse than December.  I mean sure Mike ripping into Lucy is bad…

But what about the one-sided and almost carbon copy of December in Golden Hour?

Or what about Guest of Honor with it’s Abbey Smash?

And what about the second coming of the Carnival Chapter, with its DISGUSTING implications?

Or lest we all forget the wonderous return of Lucy herself, in Love Again!  All of these chapters are fucking terrible in their own right.  And it’s debatable how they ruin some characters worse than December.  But there’s one very important factor that is lost to us now, that makes December in my eyes worse than any other chapter that Taeshi has put out.  One singular thing makes December worse than anything Taeshi has come out with so far…  And what is that factor?

Why, it’s TIME my dear reader.  Time is what sets December apart from every other chapter.  Readers at the time had to spend three whole months waiting for this chapter to end.  We stared at each singular page for days, waiting hours on end, hoping that the next page would somehow be better, or give us an out.  Instead it got worse and worse and worse.  But what also sets it apart from all those other chapters I’ve mentioned is that, unlike Guest of Honor, Golden Hour, or Return to Carnival chapter; December was a very important moment in Bittersweet Candy Bowl. Not only because of how it changed the character, but because it is one of the only times in this fucking comic where the plot actually starts to develop.  And we finally get a clear conflict to grasp onto and focus on.  

In the chapters that came before December, the conflict of Mike and Lucy was just slowly getting worse and worse.  And for the most part it just seemed to stagnate, with Lucy trying to keep her distance from Mike, and Mike constantly giving Lucy the cold shoulder.  And everyone else having to deal with that.  December was meant to be (and it did succeed in becoming) a bombshell chapter.  A big revelation moment where things finally kick into high gear.  Like, “Oh man that was brutal!” “What’s gonna happen now? Sandy is coming!”  “Lucy just got fucking REKT!” “What is she gonna do?”  “Taeshi just dropped the biggest bomb on top of us, where is she gonna take us?  How are we going to follow up this momentum?!”

BY RELEASING ONE OF THE LONGEST.  MOST NEEDLESS CHAPTERS EVER!

FOURTY EIGHT FUCKING PAGES. ALMOST FOUR MONTHS DEDICATED TO A PLOT POINT THAT HAS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH THE GIANT NUCLEAR BOMBSHELL THAT WAS JUST DROPPED ON US!  And it’s especially needless because the entire point of this chapter is to tell us that Abbey’s mom died.  Except that WE ALREADY THOUGHT SHE WAS DEAD! Oh you mean this character who all we know about was that she in a terribly abusive marriage, who we have not heard from since Abbey was introduced into the comic, who was in such a terrible state that she left her son and daughter orphaned. You mean the person so fucked up, that the last time we saw them was on a fucking stretcher is…DEAD?!  SAY IT AIN’T SO! Y’know, it would’ve actually been more of a twist, and a lot more interesting if we found out ABBEY’S MOM WAS ACTUALLY ALIVE!  

INSTEAD OF BUILDING OFF THE FUCKING MOMENTUM THAT YOU JUST SET UP, WE GET STRUNG ALONG FOR FOURTY EIGHT FUCKING PAGES!  INSTEAD OF FOCUSING ON LUCY, AND USING DECEMBER AS A LAUNCHING POINT TO DRIVE THE FUCKING PLOT, ALL OF THE MOMENTUM IS GROUND TO A FUCKING HALT IN SERVICE OF A PLOT POINT THAT ULTIMATELY DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER! And if you made it through that and was hoping, “okay NOW we can start to get into the actual plot! NOW we can focus on Lucy, and what the aftermath of December is!  Well…

Paulo tries to give a cake to Lucy, and he mostly fails, giving us

NOTHING!

Just beautiful! The one chapter where it would be okay to not give all the attention to Mike and Lucy’s relationship.  The one chapter where we could maybe get to see Sandy be a character!  Mike X Lucy is fucked, but maybe we can find comfort in Mike X Sandy!  Maybe we can have some sweet moments, and strengthen this central love triangle that we’ve been dancing around for all these years!  Maybe, just maybe, Sandy can be more than just a fucking plot device!

BUT NOPE! SHE’S JUST THERE TO BE USED SO THAT MIKE CAN REALIZE THAT HE WAS WRONG AND FEEL BAD, SO HE CAN TRY TO MAKE IT UP TO LUCY!  TOO BAD IT’S TOO LATE, SO IF YOU WERE LOOKING TO HAVE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT EITHER FROM LUCY OR SANDY, I’M SORRY BUT YOU GET

TWO BIG HEAPING SERVINGS OF NOTHING!

AND IF YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE STARVING FOR CONTENT BEFORE,  BRACE YOURSELF FOR A ONE-PAGE CHAPTER THAT GIVES YOU

NOTHING!

AND I HOPE YOU FUCKING LIKE THAT ONE-PAGE BECAUSE YOU’RE GONNA HAVE TO LOOK AT IT FOR

FOUR

WHOLE

MONTHS!

Although… to be fair, I think during that hiatus period Taeshi had guest comics and exclusive content to keep us occupied, but you get the point. As for the rest of the chapters…

Paulo breaks up with Jasmine in the most hackneyed fucking way possible, and we get a fake-out of Lucy’s suicide attempt.

We finally get the play chapter, and it teases us with the idea that Lucy and Mike are getting better except that no one falls for it because IT’S IN THE PLAY.  AND WE ALL KNOW THAT IT’S JUST AN ACT AND IT’S FUCKING…

And then Lucy finally attempts suicide and it’s all OFF-SCREEN! THEY KILLED OFF THE MAIN CHARACTER! THE ONE FUCKING BIT THAT WE WERE ALL LOOKING FORWARD TO, AND IT’S OFF-SCREEN!

Do you see what I mean now? December isn’t just a fucking chapter. It’s an arc.  The most teeth grindingly slow, and agonizing arc Taeshi ever made!  This is why December is and always will be the absolute fucking worst!  It’s like Taeshi knew what we wanted and refused to deliver! Instead being content with teasing the readers over and over for almost two years, with the prospect of seeing Lucy go through a depression arc. Instead, we’re focused on literally everyone else and all of Lucy’s inner turmoil, heartbreak, thoughts, and progressions are just hinted at and we’re just left in the dark.  We never got to see Lucy in her final moments.  What was she doing? What was she thinking?  Where was she?  How is she doing?  We wouldn’t get that information for

Nearly four years! And even then, IT WAS ALSO BULLSHIT!  December is like a nuclear warhead of a bombshell that was dropped on us, except instead of going off and blowing us away, sending us to the greater plains. It just leaked radiation everywhere and killed us from the inside slowly.   Its carbon footprint can be felt to this very day, we can’t get over December.  Because THE COMIC ITSELF CAN NOT GET OVER DECEMBER! People who wanted to see Lucy become a better person, to see her try to get better, get help, or do SOMETHING! Would never get that relief.  When I thought about December and how it treated its characters.  I felt sorry for all the people who had to read this, who felt for Lucy.  Who wanted to see her get better… I felt bad because I knew deep down that we were never going to get that story…

So I did it myself…

Don’t act surprised. You knew I was gonna go there.  I literally warned you!  There is no way in hell I’m gonna talk about December without bringing up the comic I literally made BECAUSE of December in: January.  And this time we’re looking at January as a whole.  Because now that you know WHY and WHAT I hate about December, you can start to see why January was made the way it was.  I feel the need to explain this, because January still gets a bad rap by people saying that it’s “hate-filled” which it’s not.  January is not a death threat  , nor is it meant to say “I’m better than you”, it’s not a love note to BCB, it’s a Get Well Soon card.  Not necessarily saying that I can do it better, but rather this is what you could’ve done.  Whether or not it’s better is up to you to decide.  And with that context, you can see why January was written the way it was. And it all starts with one simple change.

Instead of just outright removing December, the only thing I changed was that Mike didn’t get paired with Lucy and throw a fit.  It doesn’t spitefully act like December never happened, in fact…

December plays out the exact same way as it did in the canon, just with Susan supplementing for Lucy. So Sandy’s still coming home, Mike’s still pissed at Lucy, and he’s planning on moving to a new table to get away from her. But because Lucy’s not there…

She’s able to fucking do something.

We get to see her try.

We get to see her fail.

We see how Mike’s plan comes to fruition.

We see how things fall apart, even with Lucy’s best efforts.

We see how December still takes its toll.

We get to see her snap out of it, briefly.

We see her at her lowest point.

We see what she’s thinking and why she’s doing what she’s doing.

We see her try to figure out what to do.

We see her picking up the pieces.

We see her take action to improve herself.

We see her getting help.

We see her taking action.

We see her getting better.

We see everyone come together to support her.

We see her at the end of her journey, come to terms with what she’s done.  And wanting to improve not only herself, but her friendship with Mike. She shows maturity, empathy, and most importantly GROWTH as a character.

And in the end, the reader never gets to see how Mike and Lucy end up talking things out, but they can rest easy knowing that everything is going to be okay.  And if THAT’S hate-filled, I don’t know what the fuck you’d call the canon’s handling of Lucy in the December arc.    

The fact that we never got to see Lucy try.

The fact that the comic kept dicking us around, and baiting us with the inevitable.

The fact it KEPT FUCKING BAITING US WITH FALSE HOPE.

The fact we don’t get to even see her at the end of the line. The fact we had to wait three years for her to come back and let us know that she’s even ALIVE!

The fact that when she does comes back, SHE’S A HORRIBLE CUNTY SHELL OF THE PERSON SHE ONCE WAS…

That… is why December is the most infamous chapter in all of Bittersweet Candy Bowl.  Not just because of what it did.  But because of what it didn’t do.  Because it promised the end to Mike and Lucy’s drama one way or another. It promised us that we were going to tackle these issues that Mike brought up in Lucy, but yet… Here we are.

Back to square fucking one. You know what they say…Those who don’t know their history are doomed to repeat it. So you better brush up on your December knowledge, or at least I hope this rant serves as a good refresher. Cause from the looks of it, we’ve been repeating these plot points for almost 10 years…

Y’know I thought I was actually going crazy there for a second.  Obsessing and never getting over December for all these years. But now I see. This comic…never moved on from it. We’ve never recovered.  We’ve been stuck in December for almost 10 years…

0/10 never forget…

[365days365movies]

March 7, 2021: Onward (Review)

Guess what my favorite Pixar film is now!

Yeah, it’s still Finding Nemo hands down. Not even a little bit of a question. But there is still a question. Where does this movie rank for me? And by the way, Finding Nemo is my FAVORITE Pixar film, but I don’t consider it be objectively the best.

I mean...come on. It’s Ratatouille. The hell else was I gonna say?

Ahhhhhh, SHIT, you make a good point there. Well...at least there’s only the two choices for objectively best

OH HOW GODDAMN DARE YOU

...Any more you wanna throw at me, you goddamn monsters? Huh? HUH?

...Crying, probably. Goddamn, OK, there are a LOT of good Pixar films, and this one doesn’t have a GODDAMN CHANCE against these movies. So...which ones does Onward beat, for me, anyway?

I mean, yeah, duh. I’d put all of the Cars films below Onward. Brave and The Good Dinosaur, too. All of the Toy Story films are above it, and...I think my initial assessment was correct.

And again, I like A Bug’s Life a lot! But I think that Onward’s about on this level for me in terms of favorites. Why is that? Well...let’s go through it, huh? You an check out Part One and Part Two of the Recap if you’d like, but the Review and my final opinions are down below!

Review

Cast and Acting: 9/10

OK, above everything else, I will say that Tom Holland and Chris Pratt are great in here, and they...mostly disappear into their characters. Maybe it’s because these are currently both MASSIVE names, but I never lost sight of the fat that these guys were playing Ian and Barley respectively. It’s a little odd, especially for a Pixar movie. Not as much for a Disney movie...which is an interesting point to revisit later. But they are good. And they’re also vastly surpassed, for me, by Julia Louis Dreyfus, WHO FUCKING OWNS HER ROLE! Yeah, sorry, Dreyfus is the MVP of this movie for me, and I genuinely love her and Laurel. Octavia Spencer was, of course, also good...but was also weirdly stilted in her line deliveries most of the time. I love Octavia Spencer, but she’s not a voice actress, what can I say? Still, Corey’s another of my favorite characters, so she’s not bad at it. Tracey Ullman and Mel Rodriguez are also good in here, for the record.

Plot and Writing: 9/10

You know...it’s funny. This movie doesn’t really feel like a Pixar movie, as much as it feels like a Disney movie. Not a bad thing, I promise, but it just doesn’t...feel Pixar to me. I can’t quite pinpoint the reasons for that...yet. But in terms of the plot, it’s mostly standard Disney/Pixar adventure fare, with some decent writing and good universe building behind it. However...I’ve been thinking about the ending, and it’s actually the most Pixar thing about the movie, mostly because it was, well...extremely unexpectedly good.

Yeah, I mean that. Ian’s sacrifice is NOT how I expected that to go down, and probably would’ve been different in a straight-up Disney movie. Credit to Dan Scanlon, Jason Headley, and Keith Bunin for crafting a unique and emotionally deep ending. If Pixar’s good at one thing, it’s emotionally complex endings. Coco eventually ends with Coco dying, Boo’s sort of just gone in Monster’s Inc (I know Sulley sees her again, BUT WE DON’T), Toy Story eventually ends in Woody leaving the gang with Bo Peep, and Finding Nemo...I mean, Nemo surpasses his disability, and Marlin learns to let go of his son, so...OK, maybe that’s the exception. STILL MY FAVORITE DO NOT @ ME

Directing and Cinematography: 8/10

Well...on one hand, it’s a Pixar movie. Obviously it’s got good directing (by Don Scanlon), but...I think this movie broke Pixar films for me. YEAH. I’ll explain, and understand: I’m not saying that the cinematography by Sharon Calahan and Adam Habib is bad, but it’s very Pixar formulaic. Here’s what I mean: I’m gonna put a bunch of GIFs of Pixar films up here. Look for the commonality.

THEY’RE PERFECTLY BALANCED. Which, at first glance, obviously isn’t a bad thing. But I just posted GIFs of films from SEVEN different directors! And they ALWAYS balance their characters perfectly on screen! I’d provide more proof of this, but LOOK!!!! It’s a very formulaic form of cinematography, and while it’s obviously not bad, it’s also...obvious. You want more proof? Let’s look at more unique Pixar films and directors. Brad Bird first.

Bird’s scenes feel more dynamic, more interesting, and he has a MUCH higher focus on the foreground vs. the background than these other guys. And yeah, he also centers some of his characters, because that’s find of how film works, but his films are a lot more visually complex, and they’re considered the best of the Pixar movies. OK, what about a more recent film?

A HELL of a lot of shots in Soul are unbalanced. Which is interesting, because this is Pete Docter, one of Pixar’s most prolific directors. He’s also the director of some of their most unique films, like Monster’s Inc., Up, and Inside Out. And his flair is in a lot of unique camera movements, but also interesting angles and shot composition. And maybe I’m going CRAZY with over-analysis here, because I am NOT a film student, AT FUCKING ALL...but this film made me notice this because it just feels so visually...formulaic. Not bad, just plain. And not just in terms of cinematography.

Production and Art Design: 8/10

These are Disney characters. THESE ARE DISNEY CHARACTERS. Which, I must once again stress, IS NOT A BAD THING. But it’s also not really Pixar. I mean, look at that collection of GIFs up there again. One of the things that Pixar is lauded for is its unique character designs and concepts. And, uh...this isn’t that. It’s still good...but it’s not Pixar’s usual fare. Again, not a bad thing, as they’re more than allowed to innovate, but...is a lack of innovation really innovating? Breaking formula, yeah, but pointedly not anything new. Which, sure, fine, but...it ruins something for me, I’m gonna be honest.

Now, again, IT IS NOT BAD. It’s still actually VERY good, from the lighting to the rendering, and to the unique world that’s been constructed. Well...mostly unique. It’s kind of just our world with magic. There’s definitely some uniqueness, but not enough for me in a lot of cases. I dunno, it’s weirdly low-fantasy for something that is POINTEDLY high-fantasy in origin. Which is pretty interesting, now that I’ve typed that out loud. I like the look of this movie, again...but I’d love something a little less Disney, and a little more Pixar.

Music and Editing: 9/10

Music’s good! And so is the editing, for that matter. Composed by Mychael and Jeff Danna, and edited by Catherine Apple, this aspect of the production carried over pretty well, I think. Soundtrack is definitely fitting for a fantasy film, that’s for sure. And, yeah, no problems with the editing (which, to be fair, is not the easiest category to judge for e, ESPECIALLY here). The point of is because, well...not putting it on my playlist. It’s good, but not the best music I’ve heard, this month, or from a Pixar movie. Real talk, whenever I mention Finding Nemo (I KNOW I KNOW I’LL SHUT UP ABOUT IT BUT HOLD ON), the soundtrack plays through my head with reckless abandon. Can’t really say the same for Onward.

I’m more than cool with a 86% for this one.

Look, it’s a genuine rarity for Pixar to make a bad film. Although...it’s funny, this is barely a Pixar movie for me. It mostly just doesn’t feel like a Pixar movie, potentially because it has the overarching structure of your more typical Disney fare. Which, no, certainly isn’t a bad thing, but it’s not...quite the same.

This is still a great movie, and good for families. And I should say, I’m watching this film from the standpoint of an only child, and it was still a heartwarming look at a relationship between two very different siblings. I liked it, is what I’m saying. But this is it: we’re done with animated fare now. Although, blue animated magic characters from Disney does remind me of someone...

OK, the next movie is NOT ALADDIN, I swear. I’ve definitely seen that one. But, uh...since I’m moving to live-action anyway...

March 8, 2021: The Thief of Bagdad (1940)

[iatethepomegranate]

We are not alone in the dark with our demons, Chapter 12

In which Caleb buys a house in Rexxentrum with Beau and Yasha, becomes a professor, learns how to be a person, and grapples with how to help the other Volstrucker survivors, and his students, in a way he had never been helped.

Content warnings: References to Caleb's backstory, depression, poverty

Chapter summary: Caleb and the Nein meet up in Nicodranas, and he can no longer delay telling them of his failure to protect someone who desperately needed him. But, as it turns out, he was not the only person keeping secrets about that day.

Chapter notes: This is a somewhat chaotic chapter. Enjoy and let chaos reign, I guess! Chapter title is from Three by Sleeping At Last

****

Chapter 12: A mess of a story I'm ashamed to tell but I'm slowly learning how to break this spell

Essek teleported the four of them to the Blooming Grove the following morning to pick up Caduceus, who offered to message Wensforth to save the wizards the spell. They had breakfast in the Grove with the Clays, and got their hands dirty in the garden for a while, until Caleb rolled the aches from his shoulders and began to draw the teleportation circle to Tidepeak Tower.

“I might have to go back earlier than the rest of you,” said Beauregard. “Dairon’s guiding the monks on the Nico hunt for now, but they’re super busy.”

“We can send you back whenever you need,” said Essek.

Caleb’s next few chalk strokes were a bit more aggressive than they needed to be. It was hard not to feel guilty for leaving Rexxentrum while Nico was out on his own and people were searching for him. Essek sat on the floor by his side, knocking their knees together. He felt better, and no one made any mention of his silent outburst.

He completed the final stroke and the five of them rushed through, landing in a familiar tower, where Wensforth waited in the doorway.

“Welcome, welcome.” Wensforth guided them down the stairs. “The master is eager to speak with you.”

Yussa was already arranged on a couch in the sitting area on the ground floor, delicate fingers holding a teacup. Once borderline inscrutable, the man smiled at them as he often did these days. Especially to Caleb, on whom Jester thought Yussa had a crush. Caleb was more of the mind that Yussa saw him as little more than a precocious child, given their respective ages, but his particular fondness was evident all the same.

“Oremid tells me you are teaching at the Soltryce Academy now,” Yussa said. “Sit. We should talk.”

“Hi, Yussa,” Beauregard said, a little pointedly. “How’ve you been?”

“I am well, Beauregard. It is good to see you. All of you.”

They arranged themselves on the soft couches in the space, Caleb sitting across Yussa for ease of conversation, given the man clearly had things to say today. Essek was at Caleb’s side, slightly further than he would be just around the Nein, but close enough to be a comfort whenever Caleb’s anxiety spiked nonetheless.

Essek had been to Yussa’s tower a few times in Caleb’s company before. Given everything the Nein had put Yussa through already, the man had taken the presence of a fugitive of the Kryn Dynasty in his stride.

With a gesture from Yussa, his teapot lifted and poured itself into the other five cups on the little table in the centre of the room. Then, in turn, each cup floated into the hands of his visitors. Caleb accepted his with a soft thanks, slipping into Zemnian out of habit. He had spoken more Zemnian in the last few weeks than he had in years. It was always the little words, the pleases and thank yous, the hellos and goodbyes, that stuck the hardest.

“So…” Yussa honed in on him again. “Teaching. A step down from the original job they offered you, I hear.”

“Teaching is a better use of my time than spying.” There were more things Caleb could say about the Archmage of Civil Influence as a position, and most of them were far less polite. “Astrid always wanted that position more than I did anyway.”

“Good. You might survive to old age after all, for a human.”

Essek flinched a little at the reminder of Caleb’s shorter lifespan. Yussa’s eyes tracked the movement, but he let it pass without comment.

“Are we third-wheeling for you guys again?” Beau asked, but it wasn’t really a question. “Because we can, like, go.”

Caduceus placed a package on Yussa’s table. “Here, I brought that tea you liked last time.”

“Yes, thank you. You are all welcome to stay if you like.”

Beauregard was already standing up. “Nah, I think we’re good. Cool to see you again with your face where it belongs.” She awkwardly finger-gunned in Yussa’s direction, backing towards the door.

She, Yasha and Caduceus left the tower.

Yussa watched them go with amusement. “It seems my social graces are rather rusty.”

“They don’t mind,” said Caleb. “They have met too many wizards to be offended.” Essek snickered into his hand, finally relaxing a bit. “So, you were saying?”

“Teaching is good work, if you can tolerate the children,” said Yussa. “I did it myself for a time. For one to turn down an archmage position… you must have a goal.”

“Leave the Empire better than I found it,” Caleb said. That encompassed all his knotted up feelings about it.

Yussa raised a single well-kept eyebrow. “Interesting. What is your definition of ‘better’, if I may ask?”

Caleb did have a vision for this, and the situation with Felix and Nico had thrown into sharp, painful relief how far there was to go, and how much pain he would never be able to prevent. “No more children thrown on the pyre. No more stolen childhoods. No more abuse. A government and its mages who choose to consider simple human cost, before they consider their own selfish ambitions.” Caleb was typically more reserved with Yussa, but the more he spoke of this, the harder it became to restrain his emotions. “No more wizards with a god complex who think themselves above basic compassion and ethics. No more butchering the innocent to grease the wheels of war. Just… no more.”

“A lofty goal,” Yussa said, quiet. “One that would take the remainder of my lifetime, or even young Essek’s lifetime, let alone yours.”

“I know. Hence the importance of teaching these things to those who will come after me.”

Yussa hummed thoughtfully. “I wish you luck. More powerful men than yourself have tried, and been consumed.”

“Been there, done that. Have the trauma.” Caleb wasn’t sure where he found the capacity to joke, even flatly, about all of this. Sometimes it was easier to get the point across if he allowed for a bit of sarcasm. “In my experience, the children put at the mercy of these people may need the most help. And that is something I can do.”

“I will watch your progress.” Yussa finished his tea, setting the cup aside. “Now, enough of mundane matters. I have been tinkering with Willi some more. Would you like to see the results?”

“Always.” Caleb missed that golem terribly.

They lost a few hours discussing the golems of the Happy Fun Ball, and comparing notes about the pre-Calamity Aeormatons the Nein had encountered. Caleb and Essek had run across Devexian a few times in their travels since. It was a good use of time, and it settled Caleb’s nerves. He felt better.

***

Once they left Tidepeak Tower, Essek disguised as a blonde half-elf, they headed over to Veth’s place. Caleb was somewhat nervous about this, because he knew she would see through any of his bullshit and know he was going through something. And then he would have to explain everything to the rest of the Nein. And, of course, Jester already had an inkling thanks to Astrid.

There was no getting out of this. And it wasn’t that Caleb didn’t want them to know, exactly. He had just grown tired of explaining it. And he knew what little equilibrium he had managed to find would fall away as soon as Veth said or did anything in response, and he would break all over again.

Nevertheless, he messaged Veth as soon as they stepped out of the tower. “Hallo, Veth. Essek and I are on our way to your place. Be there soon.” Then, for old time’s sake: “You can reply to this message.”

The first sound that came through was Veth’s trademark screech. “Caleb! We made lunch. Get over here!” A split-second’s pause. “Good shot! Oh, sorry Lebby. Luc shot Beau in the ass. Like mother, like son.”

Luc was going to be a menace as a teenager. Caleb intended to be around to see it. And probably try to save a little bit of Yeza’s sanity if possible.

Caleb and Essek took their time wandering through Nicodranas. The streets were filled with people out for lunch, enticing scents curling through the air. Caleb and Essek stopped by a bakery to grab some pastries for the group (mostly Jester)--there had evidently been some Zemnian influence on Nicodranas, or the other way around, as treats such as bee stings could be found in both areas. Nicodranas made them a touch sweeter and stickier.

Caleb also grabbed a fresh loaf of bread, though he did not shove his hands into it this time. He hadn’t known that was a poverty thing until Beau and Jester had reacted so strongly to him doing it that one time. He still thought it was a useful trick, but it apparently unnerved people. Bread mittens had kept him warm many times in the freezing cold when he had no one to look out for him, and had to choose between food and something as simple as mittens.

Anyway, bread was wonderful.

They wound through the streets until they reached Veth’s place. There was an unpleasant feeling in the pit of Caleb’s stomach that he couldn’t quite describe. Unease or dread felt too uncharitable, but the feeling was somewhere in that neighbourhood. Essek slipped his hand into Caleb’s, gently leading him to the door. Essek knocked, and it was thrown open in seconds and Veth had already thrown herself at Caleb’s abdomen, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.

Caleb almost broke then and there. He carefully rested a hand on the top of her head, sliding his fingers through her hair, looking ahead but not really seeing anything. Veth gave him a final squeeze and stepped back, grabbing his hand on the way. It took Caleb a second too long to lock eyes with her, by which time whatever joy had been on her face had been replaced with worry.

“Hi, Lebby,” she said, in a careful soft tone she used whenever he was teetering on the brink of crashing down. “What’s the matter?”

Caleb took a careful breath, and spoke in a measured tone. “I will tell you, but we should eat first. I may not be able to later.”

Veth tugged him inside, Essek taking care of the door and following them through the house. The rest of the Nein were already crammed into the kitchen, stuffing their faces with a simple stew that smelled delightful. It must have been one of the recipes Veth remembered from Felderwin.

Jester leapt upon him with a hug, dragging Essek in with her. “You’re here! It’s so good to see you! We got chased by a dragon turtle again and I turned it into a sea slug like last time, and we got away!”

“This happened at sea, I assume?” asked Caleb, who knew enough about Jester to take nothing at face value.

“Of course, Caleb. Don’t be silly!” Jester let him go, and booped his nose. He managed not to flinch.

Caleb wordlessly held out the pastries and bread. Jester squealed and grabbed them off him, shoving them into the centre of the table. Veth grabbed an enormous knife and began to cut the bread while the rest of the Nein shuffled around to make room for two more chairs. It was a tight fit, and Caleb was firmly sandwiched between Essek and Beauregard, but it felt somewhat akin to Essek’s nighttime pressure on his back and sometimes chest that crushed his soul back into his body. Their thighs were jammed together now, and it was easy to hook his ankle around Essek’s and keep himself grounded. For now.

A bowl was shoved in his direction and he ate mechanically, dimly aware of the chatter around him. Luc’s voice was among the loudest, and it was good to hear his voice. After everything the boy had been through, on Caleb’s account no less. No matter what anyone else said.

Caleb was going to spiral if he didn’t get a hold of himself. And he wanted to have a good time in Nicodranas; he didn’t know when he would be back here. Not to mention he would prefer not to retraumatise the already traumatised toddler by having a breakdown in the middle of lunch.

So he ate. Slowly. Methodically. He silently counted each mouthful, because he needed to count something. And when he had finished the stew, he felt more present in his surroundings. Veth distributed slices of bread with little pots of spiced olive oil and balsamic vinegar, and the Nein continued to chatter away as they tore off pieces of bread, dunked them into the oil, and finished off the loaf. Caleb was glad they liked it. And that Veth had been here long enough to have picked up a local bread tradition to share with them all.

“This is good bread, Caleb,” said Jester.

“I went to the bakery you recommended,” Caleb replied.

“That was months ago! You remembered!”

Caleb tapped his temple.

“Caleb has a very good memory,” Veth said warmly, as if everyone at the table wasn’t already keenly aware.

“I’m a bit curious about that,” said Kingsley, his tail smacking Beauregard in the arm, ignoring her as she slapped it off her. “Have you always been like that?”

“My memory was always good, ja,” said Caleb. It was rare for Kingsley to ask about someone’s past; very Molly-esque, not that Caleb would ever tell him that. “I could count things very well, especially time, and naturally had good recall. I did develop it further at school, but it was always there.”

Most people who found out about Caleb’s memory either saw it as an interesting party trick, or a useful tool if they were more like Trent. He did not speak of the downsides of having a near-infallible memory very often.

But Kingsley was looking at him with sharpness in his eyes behind the easy smile. “Maybe I’m biased since I barely remember anything that this body did before a few months ago, but that sounds feckin’ awful.” He said it lightly, but Caleb could hear the edge in his voice. Kingsley had been around when Caleb had told his story to Beauregard in the Grove; he had the context, and his own experiences, to put things together.

“A blessing and a curse, ja.”

The mood at the table threatened to darken, but Luc was thankfully oblivious to it, and instead started babbling about a huge bug the Brenattos had found in the garden yesterday. And that his father had screamed very loudly. Caleb sat back from the conversation, but was pleased when the tension broke.

“It really was adorable,” Veth was saying.

Yeza rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Yes, and you were my valiant saviour once again.”

But lunch was just about wrapping up at this point, and Veth would soon turn her focus back onto Caleb and his problems. Caleb’s lunch sat like a stone in his stomach, and maybe he shouldn’t have eaten quite that much. But it was hard to say no to a home-cooked meal surrounded by the people he loved most in this world. Those who were still alive, anyway.

Veth, charitably, let Caleb have a few extra minutes while she and Yeza cleared the table before she sat back down with a sigh, and turned her eyes to him. “All right. What’s the matter?”

Yeza picked Luc up. “I think we’ll go for a walk.” He didn’t know every little thing about Caleb’s shit, but he knew enough to understand whatever they were about to discuss was not something Luc needed to hear. “We’ll be back in an hour.”

As soon as they were gone, Jester spoke up. “Astrid said some stuff happened, but she wouldn’t tell me what.”

Caleb sighed deeply. “All right. I will tell you. Some of you already know what happened. I would appreciate your assistance.”

Beauregard knocked her knee against his. “We’ll help. But you should start.”

So he did. Caleb told the Nein that Astrid had been reaching out to the Volstrucker, and that two boys had been unaccounted for. He led most of the explanation of how they had come to understand what this probably meant, and to make plans for it. Beauregard began to speak up a bit when he spoke of finding Felix and convincing him to speak to them, of bringing in Caduceus to lift the modified memory. Caduceus began to add pieces where relevant, of the things he saw. Of scrying on Nico, and learning where he was.

Beauregard led the discussion of rushing after him and finding the house ablaze, and Caleb very briefly spoke of his experience on the upper floor, and finding the bodies of Nico’s parents. The memories were too vivid, and choked him up a bit, so Beauregard took over once again, and then Caduceus after they had traded places to help Caleb try to save the Baumanns.

“I do have a confession to make,” said Caduceus.

“Oh?” said Caleb, who couldn’t say much else at the moment.

“I was still scrying when Nico lit the fire,” Caduceus admitted. “I saw how he reacted to it. I chose not to inform you, because I feared leaving the scry before your arrival, in case something else happened. I… in the moment, I did not think telling you would have helped, but I wanted to apologise. I wanted to explain all this earlier, but...” Caduceus didn’t finish--maybe he had realised that would be jumping a bit ahead in the story. But Caleb understood.

There had been a small shred of curiosity in the back of Caleb’s mind, but he had been too preoccupied to give it much thought. But Caduceus’s explanation made sense; he had weighed up the benefits of both options and chosen the one he thought best in the moment. Leaving the scry to tell Caleb the house was already ablaze probably wouldn’t have made much difference. The Baumanns had already been long dead by the time he reached them. So Caleb harboured no ill will towards Caduceus for the difficult choice he had made, nor did he resent Caduceus for not telling him sooner, when Caleb had been far too unwell.

“There is no need to apologise,” Caleb told him. “You made a hard decision. Thank you for telling me now, when I am better able to handle it. Are you all right?”

Caduceus smiled sadly at him. “I understand you better now. Not in the way either of us wanted, but I’m all right now that I’ve told you.” He straightened, clearing his throat. “Anyway, where were we?”

They briefly talked about the night they had Nico, and that it had been a bad one for Caleb, and then Essek chipped in to describe the Greater Restoration spell the following morning. And the chaos that had ensued. Caleb spoke briefly about the chase on his side of things, with Beau and Yasha contributing theirs.

“We didn’t find him,” said Beauregard. “Monks and Volstrucker are still on the lookout. Caleb thinks the kid probably ran for the woods to get some cover. He taught Felix the Sending spell and took him back home to his parents.”

“Felix and I message Nico regularly,” said Caleb. “No responses yet.” And, because he was with the Nein, and because they loved him, he said, “I… feel a bit useless, at the moment.”

Jester reached across the table, tears in her eyes, and squeezed his hand. “You’re not useless, Caleb. You’re really smart, and really cool.”

“You’ve done a lot for those kids,” said Fjord. “I’m sure they both appreciate it, even if Nico isn’t talking to you. He’ll find you when he’s ready.”

“Maybe,” Caleb murmured. He was tired.

Veth was watching him, mouth downturned at the corners. “Caleb. Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve come over.”

Caleb didn’t know what to say to her. An apology wasn’t enough. And he didn’t know if he could explain it right now. He looked away from her, down at the table, and tried not to crack apart with guilt. He was not doing a very good job.

A flash of movement, and Veth had launched herself across the table and into his lap. “Oh, Cay Cay, honey. No. Shh.” She squished his cheeks, which he only now realised were wet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” She flung her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. Caleb buried his face in her shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I’m not angry, and I don’t blame you for not wanting to talk about it. It’s okay.”

That only made him feel worse. Breathing was hard. Two hands, belonging to two different people, found their way to his back, rubbing slow circles. The more delicate hand--Essek’s--applied a little more pressure than the other. Probably Beauregard. She was next to him.

“You’re all right, Caleb,” said Caduceus. “We’ve got you.”

Caleb laughed wetly, remembering those exact words from Fjord as they had guided him home after a panic attack behind the coffee shop. Maybe this was a thing now. Or at least a thing from the Wildmother devotees of the Nein.

The rest of the day was quiet. Caleb composed himself after a while, and set up his lesson plans and speech notes on the floor of the Brenattos’ living room. A cup of dead people tea at his side. Surrounded by the chatter of his friends, and Essek’s head on his shoulder as he worked through a book written in Undercommon.

Yeza and Luc returned after a while, and Luc napped on the couch at Caleb’s back. Breathing loudly into his ear. It should have been annoying, but really wasn’t. The boy woke up some time later and wriggled his way onto the floor, peppering Caleb with questions about what he was doing. Caleb was more than happy to answer, hoping he had simplified it enough for the boy. Luc was very clever, but he was also very young.

Most of the Nein drifted away once Caleb seemed more stable. Jester, Fjord and Kingsley went off to check on their crew (including Vandran), and hang out with Marion. Caleb expected he would see her at the Chateau in the evening for dinner. Beau and Yasha had wandered off to the fish market.

Caduceus was still around, and Caleb suspected he actually felt much worse than he was letting on. But he seemed content to chat with Yeza and Veth over tea in the kitchen. Caleb caught snatches of the conversation; it seemed they were trying to explain some alchemical concepts to him. There was a good chance that Caduceus did have some knowledge in the area, but not in the same scientific way. Which made such a conversation all the more entertaining, as fragments of it drifted into the living room as the Brenattos and Caduceus tried to reconcile their wildly different experiences of very similar things.

Luc had just finished asking Caleb what a cantrip was, drawn from his lesson notes for Beginner’s Transmutation. The boy climbed into his lap, resting his head against Caleb’s collarbone. At first, Caleb thought he was still groggy from his nap. Then:

“Uncle Caleb?”

“Ja?”

“Are you having a bad day?”

That was a far cry from most of Caleb’s interactions with Luc, where he was mostly playing the part of the fun uncle with cool magic tricks. Essek hadn’t spent as much time with Luc, and was still phenomenally awkward around both him and Yeza, and even he seemed to notice the shift. Essek froze, his eyes glued to the one spot on the page.

“What do you mean?” Caleb asked Luc.

Luc shrugged. “Your eyes are puffy.”

Caleb chuckled at that; trust a small child to have no filter. “Ja, okay. I cried a bit earlier. Your mother and our friends took good care of me, though.” He thought back to Luc’s question. “We all have bad days, ja?”

Luc nodded, face pressed against Caleb’s shirt. “I had a bad day yesterday.”

“Oh?”

“I was remembering something that hurt a lot. And sometimes when I remember it, I get really sad and can’t think about anything else.”

Caleb, unfortunately, knew exactly what Luc was remembering. Veth didn’t bring it up often, but she had occasionally mentioned that Luc would have entire days after waking from nightmares of fire where he was just… out of sorts. Not wanting to play. Or even shoot his crossbow. Caleb could relate to the feeling.

So he set his pen aside and wrapped his arms around Luc. “Ja, that happens to me, too. Shall we stick together for today? We can cheer each other up.”

Luc just nodded, and Caleb rocked him side-to-side. The boy was probably still recovering, both from his disturbed sleep and the depressive episode.

“You’re good with him,” Essek said later, when Luc had fallen asleep against his chest.

Yeza ducked his head out of the kitchen, probably concerned that Luc was up to mischief in his silence, but his expression cleared when he saw the boy was sleeping. “Thank you, Caleb.”

Luc was not only a child, but also a halfling child, so it was a simple matter for even Caleb to hold him throughout the day. He felt better having someone else to care for, and Luc seemed to find comfort in Caleb’s attention.

***

That evening, they all visited the Lavish Chateau for dinner. Essek was in his blonde half-elf disguise again while the group ate on the ground floor. Luc was still clingy with Caleb, but he genuinely didn’t mind. He balanced the boy in his lap while they ate dinner. The chef had prepared a mildly spiced rice dish for the table that was easy for both of them to eat in this situation.

Marion joined them, graceful and lovely as ever. Like Yeza, she had not held ill will for what had befallen her during Trent’s pursuit. In fact, on more than one occasion, she had joked that she should thank “that horrible man” for forcing her to spend time with Babenon while in hiding. The situation was still complicated between the pair, and Caleb understood those kinds of complications better than most of the Nein. But she seemed happier than she had been in a long time.

Jester had apparently updated Marion with every shred of information she had gleaned from the Nein, so Marion was already aware of Caleb’s new job, and that he and the lesbians had a house together in Rexxentrum.

“It’s quite the change, I imagine,” she said.

“Oh, ja. I still wake up sometimes and have to pinch myself.”

“If you ever find yourself in Rexxentrum,” said Beauregard, “we’d love to have you.” She even managed not to look constipated or aggressive while saying it, which was a far cry from the prickly woman Caleb had met in Trostenwald all that time ago.

Marion smiled warmly. “Unlikely, but I will be sure to take you up on the offer if the need arises. How is your work, Beauregard?”

She glanced at Caleb, and sighed. “Complicated. But Caleb’s ex is the new archmage in the Assembly, and she’s actually not a shitty person most of the time. So that helps.”

Marion looked to Caleb, amused. “How does she feel about your new partner?”

Gods, Caleb had never gotten to have this kind of conversation with his own mother. So, even though the reminder hurt a bit, he indulged her. “Oh. Uh. Well, you see…”

“Caleb’s had a threesome,” Jester supplied helpfully.

“I see.” Now Marion looked very entertained. “We all have hidden depths. The two people who came to warn us about your teacher?”

“Ja.” Caleb’s face was hot, and probably as red as his hair. “They are… respectful of us. But they also told me they would, ah…” He remembered there was a small child on his lap who absolutely did not need to go around telling people he would cut off their balls. “They would cut off an important part of his anatomy if he ever hurt me. So, I think they approve.”

Essek made a choked sound. “You did not tell me this.”

“I was preoccupied.” Caleb didn’t need to elaborate; Essek would figure out what he meant.

Essek relaxed marginally, and knocked their knees together. “Right.” He wasn’t the type for public displays of affection, even if he didn’t have to worry about drawing attention to himself.

Marion looked to Essek. “Good luck.”

He laughed nervously. “Thank you. I will need it.”

“You’ll be fine,” Caleb said. Astrid and Wulf cared too much for Caleb to hurt him, now that they were no longer in a situation where it was required of them.

“Moral of the story,” Beauregard said, already three cups in. “Caleb’s got game.”

“I really do not,” Caleb said flatly.

“Real recognises real, Caleb, and you’re lookin’ real familiar.”

Caleb sighed, relieved that Luc was preoccupied with a puzzle cube he had brought the Brenattos last time he was in town. “We have talked about this before.”

“Yeah, but it’s different in front of Marion. She knows what I’m talking about.”

Marion chuckled softly behind her hand. “Indeed I do.”

“Caleb’s a loving guy, if you know what I mean,” said Jester, and her eyebrow waggle was too much for him to bear. Caleb did not stop loving people, and while it was easier to deal with his feelings for Jester now they were both in stable, happy relationships, there would always be an edge for Caleb. A point where he had to step back.

Kingsley, also quite drunk at this point, was biting his lip while he watched Caleb. “Oh, really?” The flirting from Kingsley was far easier to handle, even if the ghost of Molly made any joy bittersweet.

“That’s quite enough, I think,” said Essek. Gods, Caleb was both relieved and terrified by how well the man could read him these days.

Kingsley and Jester both pouted, and Caleb pounded back his glass of wine so he didn’t have to look at them.

Later, as Caleb carried Luc through the nighttime streets alongside Essek, Veth and Yeza, Essek tugged gently on his sleeve.

“Maybe this is a bad time,” Essek said quietly, tilting his head to check that Luc was asleep. He was. “And I do not expect answers you do not wish to give. But, may I ask you something?”

Caleb glanced ahead, where Veth had grabbed Yeza’s ass; they weren’t listening to this conversation. “All right.”

“I know the nature of our circumstances means we cannot be together all the time,” Essek said quietly. “I had a… proposal, I suppose. I don’t know how to word it, or if you will be insulted. But I notice you are very…” He cleared his throat. “What the fuck am I saying? You are a sexual person, and I enjoy that very much about you. And while we are together, I am happy for us both to fulfill our needs with each other.”

“But?” Caleb had not fully recovered from Jester and Kingsley at the Chateau.

“Well, I was wondering. You know I do not experience attraction as often as you do. That I need to be close to someone, and I am close to very few people. You are the first in many years to have caught my interest in this way. But I know it’s not the same for you.”

“Essek, I love you, but please get to the point.”

“Right.” Essek chuckled, and it was out of sheer discomfort. “I just wanted to say, that if you choose to scratch that, ah, itch while I am not around, I would be okay with that.”

Caleb didn’t know what he had expected from Essek, but certainly not that. “Oh. Um. Good to know.”

Essek glanced around in the dark, evidently found nothing of concern, and kissed Caleb’s cheek. “You are still my priority in that department. And I want to remain yours as well.”

“You are.”

“Good. There will be times when we are apart for a long time. You are still mine, through all of it, but I don’t mind if you, ah, take your pleasures as you need them.”

“That is… generous.” Caleb’s mind was not coping with this conversation at all. “I will… think about it.”

The Brenatto home came into view at that point, and Caleb was relieved that it effectively ended this discussion. Caleb had never really talked about it, but he had also never hidden from Essek the fact he had a lot of feelings for many people going at any one time. Essek came first. Always. And he wasn’t sure if he would ever take Essek up on the offer to invite someone else into his bed in Essek’s absence. But it was good of him to say.

He felt seen, in a strange way. Even though Essek was firmly monogamous, and extremely demisexual, he understood Caleb better than most.

So, as long as Essek wasn’t being self-sacrificing by offering this, Caleb was grateful for it. Even if he never acted on it. He couldn’t think about it right now. Probably wouldn’t for a long time. And if he did think about it, he certainly would not be doing that while Essek was very much within his reach, rendering the offer irrelevant.

They stepped inside the house after Veth and Yeza, and offered to watch Luc for a while. Though no one said anything explicitly for fear of Luc waking and hearing the conversation, it had evidently been some time since Veth and Yeza had been intimate together.

So Caleb and Essek sat in the sitting room for a while, quietly working on their respective studies, with Luc napping in Caleb’s arms.

[blakegopnik]

SIXTY YEARS AGO THIS WEEK, POP ART WENT PUBLIC FOR THE FIRST TIME

THE DAILY PIC shows the window of the Gunther Jaeckel department store off Fifth Avenue in Manhattan as it stood 60 years ago this week, giving the public its very first glimpse of true Pop Art — by a certain Andy Warhol, as it happens.

This post celebrates that 60th birthday, but also the release of the paperback edition of my Warhol biography, published by Ecco at HarperCollins.

I thought this would be a good moment to list my own favorite moments in the book, so readers of the new edition could cut straight to the chase, as it were.

I’ll admit that I’m particularly happy with what I managed to find out about the changes in marketing at Gunther Jaeckel — and across American retailing — that let Warhol’s Pop Art make sense for its window display in April of ’61.  

Here, in chronological order, are a dozen other moments in my book that I’ll admit to being pleased with:

1) Documents left over from Warhol’s college years — from teachers’ class notes to college textbooks, some covered in Warhol’s own annotations — let me outline precisely what he learned about art, and how advanced that teaching was. Forget the notion, often propagated by Warhol himself, that he was a self-taught know-nothing.

2) The memories and records of gay Pittsburghers revealed the utter brutality that they suffered in Warhol’s hometown in the years after World War II — just when Warhol was coming out. When gays weren’t being beaten up by college jocks they were being shot and extorted by local cops. No wonder Warhol could never be completely comfortable in his queerness.

3) Thanks to records at the Library of Congress, I was able to dig into Warhol’s experiences with the avant-garde dancer Franziska Boas. For several months late in 1949, soon after he’d arrived in New York, Warhol rented a corner of the Chelsea loft that Boas shared with her nudist Lesbian partner. It was his first sustained contact with New York’s gay bohemia, and I think it affected him deeply.

4) It’s a minor detail that almost got left on the cutting-room floor, but in the end I just had to share it with readers: In 1959, Warhol designed a production of Jean Cocteau’s Orphée  put on by students at Barnard; a surviving contact sheet of the sets shows that silver foil and fabrics played a big role — years before Warhol’s famous Silver Factory came into being.

5) There are only shreds of evidence that survive from the meeting between Yves Klein and Warhol at the Chelsea Hotel in the spring of 1961. But I hope my book makes a convincing argument for why the encounter was vital for both of them.

6) Silkscreening and Warhol go together in our minds like … silkscreening and Warhol. But amazing records preserved at the New York Public Library show that by 1962 the technique had acquired all kinds of baggage — aesthetic, political, economic and cultural — that affected what it meant for Warhol to adopt it. It had been celebrated in industry as an example of America’s commercial know-how, denigrated by fine printmakers who were fighting for art-world respect and trumpeted on the left as a way to bring art to the people. I’m pleased with the pages in my book that allowed me to share that complexity.

7) Once Warhol began to build his classic Pop persona, striped sailor’s shirts and dark glasses became part of his signature look. It was fun to unpack exactly what those shirts and those glasses meant in and for 1960s culture: The shirts came with links to Picasso, biker flicks and Jean Seberg; the glasses crossed over between Greta Garbo, JFK, James Bond and Miles Davis. (I discovered that once Warhol went out of a morning in his shades, he couldn’t really take them off again even in the dimmest of rooms; they had prescription lenses that corrected his extreme near-sightedness.)

8) Almost since the moment that Warhol began to live his life in public, people have judged that public life to be one of his most important works. I was pleased to discover that this was more than an empty cliché that might apply to almost any celebrity. Warhol’s self-sculpting was part of an early-’60s trend that saw artists on the farthest margins of the avant-garde working hard to break down any barrier between art and life. Alberto Greco declared his final work to be his own suicide, committed days after one of Warhol’s first appearances in his full biker-jacket-and-shades look, at the ICA in Philadelphia in 1965.

9) Warhol skeptics love to doubt the worth of his “superficial” society portraits. I hope I’ve managed to convince a few doubters that those portraits have true value and heft as a single, giant project in social analysis and commentary. Not everyone will buy my comparison to Goya — but I borrowed it from some of the smartest critics in Warhol’s own day.

10) I was surprised to discover, and pleased that my book could reveal, Warhol’s close ties to late-’60s conceptualism. He admired the conceptualists, mixed with them, collected them and, more than anything, wanted to copy their achievements.  Some ideas he got from them, like an interest in Business Art, got him in trouble when he took them further than anyone else.

11) Warhol’s Shadow paintings, made and shown in the late ’70s, can seem like some of his most straightforward, even superficial works: “Disco décor,” he himself called them, and others have seen them as simple — maybe simpleminded — abstraction. But I hope that, by digging into what disco and abstraction truly meant at the time, to Warhol and others, my book reveals these paintings’ real depths.

12) Already from college days Warhol probably knew of Marcel Duchamp’s doubts about painting’s validity in modern times. Those doubts informed all the many “paintings” that Warhol went on to make. (Those scare quotes are there, invisibly, as a frame around every one of his canvases.) I hope my book shows that those doubts are front and center when he engages with the new, hot painting and painters that hit the scene in the 1980s — he paints to explore his own doubts, not to show that he’s lost them.

(Artworks in my image © The Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Inc.)

For a full survey of past Pics visit blakegopnik.com/archive.