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ikkyfics · 1 month ago

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Ask me to stay

Peter Maximoff x fem!mutant!reader

Summary: Peter stays by your side, bringing comfort, teasing, and a love that feels like home

Warnings: fluffy, light teasing, emotional comfort, mild suggestive language, established relationship, hurt&comfort

A/N: This was my first request and I was so excited! I hope you like it (and damn, I'm head over heels in love with it)

Masterlist

It was hard to explain how someone like Peter had become the most important person in your life. He was a force of nature: fast, unpredictable, and impossible to ignore. From the day you met, he had never seemed afraid of you.

No, in fact, he found your power fascinating. It was strange, honestly, especially after spending years surrounded by people who feared to hear your voice. Your parents always suspected, but it wasn’t until your ninth birthday, when you showed up with a brand-new BMW in front of the house – just a simple request and the salesman himself drove the car over – that they knew their little girl was not like the other kids.

“You have a voice that can make anyone do whatever you want? What kind of comic book villain are you?” he teased at your first meeting, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he leaned in closer, his dark eyes shining with curiosity.

“I’m not a villain, Peter,” you replied, crossing your arms in mock indignation.

“Oh, sure, Miss ‘do as I say.’ And I’m Captain America.” He shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “If it were me, I’d make people bring me food all the time. Or let me win at Pong.”

“You don’t even need help with that, cheater.”

He laughed, tilting his head to the side as if about to respond, but instead, just looked at you for a few seconds. “I think that’s what I like about you,” he said suddenly, the tone surprisingly serious. “You stand up to me. It’s cool.”

You tried to hide the heat rising to your cheeks, but something in that moment stayed with you. Peter never looked at you like someone dangerous or different. To him, you were just… you.

And he never changed.

The years passed, and Peter continued to be the same boy who was impossible to keep up with. He spoke too fast, thoughts racing faster than his words, and loved to tease you.

“Are you really going to pretend you didn’t hear me?” he said, leaning against the doorframe, holding a Twinkie like it was a prize. “I know you’re in there. I’m going to count to three… One… Two—”

“Peter, if you annoy me, I swear I’ll make you leave here singing Abba in the square.” You hoped your voice sounded like a real threat, even though a smile fought to spread across your face.

“Oh, the power of the magic voice.” He rolled his eyes, taking an exaggerated bite of the sweet, cream smearing across his lips. “I knew I should’ve brought earplugs. What an amateur I am.”

And you just laughed, shaking your head as he kept talking, always jumping from one thought to the next without pause.

Your friendship was like that: full of teasing, laughter, and an intimacy that felt natural. It was easy to be with Peter, easy to forget the complicated world outside when he was by your side.

On that particular night, in the basement of his mother’s house, you realized just how much he meant to you. You had spent hours together, surrounded by old pillows and wrapped in the soundtrack Peter insisted was “essential to understand the decade.”

“You have to admit, Bowie is a genius,” he said, pointing at the tape player like it was a work of art.

“I admit he’s good,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “But not as good as Queen.”

“What?” Peter placed a hand on his heart, pretending to be offended. “Take that back now, or I’ll be forced to challenge you to a Pong duel!”

“You always want Pong,” you muttered, but the challenge in his eyes made you laugh.

You spent what felt like hours playing and arguing about bands while sharing the almost endless supply of sweets he always hid. After a lot of laughter and sugar, you both fell asleep side by side in the middle of the mess.

You woke up first, senses still numb. It took a moment to realize where you were, who you were with. Peter’s arms were wrapped tightly around you, holding you close to his chest. His breath tickled the top of your head, and you could feel each rise and fall as he inhaled and exhaled. It was a feeling... good. Being held so tightly by him. You sighed, pressing your face into the curve of his neck. There was something there, a scent mixed with the warmth of his skin, that made your heart race.

Without realizing it, you gently pressed your nose to the soft flesh, letting his scent fill your lungs. The skin felt so soft, so smooth. What would it feel like to slide your lips across it? The thought triggered an alert in your mind. Friends didn’t think these things.

“Hmm… you’re smelling my neck now?” he murmured, his voice still rough with sleep sending shivers down your spine, making you feel even guiltier.

You pulled back as if you’d been shocked. “I… No!”

He opened one eye, the familiar glint of teasing starting to show. “Of course not. Didn’t notice a thing.”

You huffed, pushing his shoulder, determined to put some distance between you. “Stop, Peter.”

He laughed, but you felt the heat in your face as you looked away. Because, at that moment, you realized something you had been trying to ignore: you were in love with your best friend. Was there a greater tragedy?

And that thought stayed with you ever since, buried too deep for him to notice. Because, deep down, you knew Peter had always been the kind of person who could pull a smile out of you, even on your worst days. (...)

The week had been a real nightmare.

Since Monday, obligations seemed to pile up like an avalanche. Exhausting training sessions with the team, a particularly complicated mission involving a hostage rescue at an enemy base, and the weight of final college exams. Even your powers weren’t much help—quite the opposite. Convincing someone to cooperate with your siren voice required extreme mental control, and using it during the mission only added to the emotional exhaustion you were already carrying.

“You’ve got this, Siren’s Tear,” Kurt joked, trying to lighten the mood as he adjusted the communicator.

You smiled at him, but the smile didn’t reach your eyes. Siren’s Tear. It was a nickname Peter had made up, a mix of joke and admiration that had spread among the X-Men. Normally, it made you smile. But this week, it felt like an extra weight.

The mission had been chaos. Explosions, confrontations, and life-or-death decisions in a matter of seconds. Even with Kurt’s teleportation and Ororo’s storm control, the enemies were better prepared than expected. You found yourself cornered more than once, forcing your voice to a dangerous limit to make guards lower their weapons. When it was all over, you could barely stand.

And yet, there was the rest of the week waiting for you: piled-up studying, reports for Professor Xavier, and a persistent feeling of inadequacy that whispered you never did enough.

When Saturday finally arrived, your body and mind were at their breaking point. All you wanted was a moment of peace, a break from missions, responsibilities, and any reminder of how difficult it was to balance the two lives you led.

It was in this state that Peter showed up.

You barely had time to process his entrance, as he appeared the way he always did—unannounced, without ceremony, with that playful smile plastered across his face. He held a bag of Twinkies in his right hand and a copy of Space Invaders in the left, as if there was no chance in the world you wouldn’t want to spend the next few hours with him.

“Hey, Siren’s Tear, missed you,” he said, completely ignoring the pitiful state you were in. He threw the bag of snacks on the sofa and started rummaging through the stuff on the table, talking so fast you could barely keep up. “I thought maybe we could relax a bit. I know you’ve had a crazy week, but guess who got the highest score at the arcade? Me. Of course, it was me. And I thought—”

“Peter…” you started, your voice hoarse from the repeated use of your power over the past few days. The pressure in your head was so intense you could almost imagine it exploding.

“—that maybe you could try to beat my record. But good luck, because I’m unstoppable. Seriously, they should rename the game ‘Peter’s Challenge’. What do you think?”

“Peter, stop.” You looked at him with no trace of humor.

He finally looked at you, confused, but with that smile still there, as if he couldn’t imagine that you weren’t on the same wavelength as him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, tilting his head, his dark eyes like coal examining you from head to toe. “You look like you could use a Twinkie. Or two.”

You closed your eyes, trying to take a deep breath, but fatigue and irritation finally broke through your self-control.

“I don’t need Twinkies, Peter!” you exploded, your voice louder than ever. “I need a minute of peace! Just one minute, without you talking nonstop, without you messing everything up, without you… Without you annoying me! Can you just disappear for a while?!”

The room fell into absolute silence. Both surprised, not knowing how to react. You had never shouted at him, not really. The weight of your words made your shoulders sink, a bitter taste in your mouth.

His eyes were wide, surprised, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Peter Maximoff, the boy who never stopped talking, was speechless.

You realized the gravity of what you’d said in the same instant, but before you could try to fix it, he took a step back, the usual smile replaced by something much sadder and more vulnerable. You had never seen him look so sad. Regret made your stomach burn.

“Wow,” he murmured, his voice low and hesitant, fingers fidgeting nervously. “I… didn’t know you could be influential without your powers.” He commented, his voice dry and brittle.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but he raised a hand, as if asking you to stop.

“It's okay,” he said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll do what you want. I’ll disappear.”

“Peter, don’t—” He disappeared long before you could finish your sentence.

The characteristic sound of his speed faded as quickly as he did, leaving only a heavy silence behind.

You stood there, frozen in the middle of the room, your hand still extended in the air, the words you wanted to say stuck in your throat. An overwhelming wave of guilt washed over you, along with the emptiness left by him. Tears came before you could stop them, flowing hot and silent as you collapsed onto the bed.

Why did you have to explode at him? Why did you have to hurt the one person who always made a point of being by your side, even when you didn’t want to be?

You knew Peter had good intentions. He always had. He just didn’t know how to show them the right way.

But now, he was hurt.

And for the first time, you felt completely alone.

(...)

Three days.

Three days without a sign of Peter.

The Xavier mansion, always so full of life, felt suffocating now. You could barely look at the familiar faces around you without feeling a tightness in your chest. Everything seemed darker, slower, as if the world were mirroring the whirlwind inside you.

The others noticed, of course.

“Are you okay?” Jean asked, her voice soft as she touched your shoulder. You just shook your head, unable to respond. There were no words for the weight of regret you felt.

Even Logan, always so distant, paused as he walked past you in the hallway and gave you a concerned look. “If you need anything, anything at all, let me know,” he said, his voice low and serious.

But nothing helped.

You barely ate, barely slept. When you closed your eyes, all you saw was Peter’s face, the sad smile he tried to hide before disappearing.

“I’ll do what you want. I’ll disappear.”

His words echoed in your mind like a curse, a constant reminder that you had done what you never thought was possible: pushed Peter Maximoff away.

He had always been there. From the first moment, when you arrived at the mansion nervous and lost, he was the first to break the ice. You were startled by his repeated closeness. One moment you were alone, and the next he was right in front of you, all silver hair and easy smiles.

“So, what’s your power?” He leaned in, eyes narrowed as he looked at you with interest. “Can you make people give you free pizza? Because that would be impressive.”

It was a silly question, of course, but the way he said it—with that crooked smile and energy that was impossible to ignore—made you laugh for the first time in weeks.

And from then on, he had been a constant in your life.

You played Space Invaders until your hands hurt, stole treats from the kitchen on midnight missions, and spent hours in his basement (his mother’s) listening to records of bands he insisted were the best in the world. You knew he had tough moments, but he never let it show. He masked the pain with jokes and speed, and you loved him for it—the lightness he brought to your chaotic world.

Now, his absence felt like a hole in your chest.

On the third day, you were sitting on the living room sofa, staring at a book you hadn’t managed to get past the first paragraph, when you heard Kurt and Ororo talking in the distance. A draft of air carried his words to you.

“Peter didn’t show up for training again today,” Kurt said, his voice full of concern. “This isn’t like him.”

“He didn’t come to breakfast either,” Ororo replied. “Do you think he’s okay?”

Your heart sank the moment their words reached you. It was as if the world had stopped, leaving only the deafening sound of guilt pounding in your ears.

Peter wasn’t okay.

You knew that.

Rising, you left the room without saying a word, ignoring the curious looks from the others. Each step felt heavier than the last, but you knew what you needed to do.

Deep down, you already knew where to find him.

The Maximoff house had a peculiar charm that always made you smile. A mix of the '70s, nostalgia, and controlled chaos that perfectly suited Peter. But today, as you climbed the steps to the porch, your heart was too heavy to be swayed by the usual sense of comfort.

At the door, holding the stack of sweets and the pizza box—the favorite of both of you, with extra pepperoni and that crispy crust Peter always called “a gift from the gods”—you took a deep breath before knocking.

Mrs. Maximoff opened the door almost immediately, with her warm smile and curious eyes. “Oh, dear! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Hi, Mrs. Maximoff,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

She stepped back, holding your face for a moment. “You look... tired. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Actually, I came to see Peter.”

Her expression softened, but her eyes shone with a touch of concern. “He’s in the basement. He spends most of his time down there lately.” She hesitated before adding, “He misses you, you know? And so do I. You bring good energy to this house.”

Her words were simple, but they hit hard. You gave a small, shy smile and a “Thank you,” before heading down to the basement, your heart pounding too fast in your chest.

As you descended the steps, a familiar soundtrack began to fill the space: the sound of an intense pinball game, interspersed with muffled music from a nearby radio.

Peter was in his element.

The first thing you noticed was the speed. He darted back and forth across the basement in a typical frenzy, alternating between playing the arcade game, taking bites of a Twinkie, and making quick adjustments to the stack of vinyl records by the old record player.

For a moment, he passed by too quickly, the movement so fast it looked like a silver blur. But even so, he paused long enough to take a good look at you. He noticed the dark circles under your eyes, the tired expression, and, most of all, the look of regret that seemed to weigh on you like a second skin. And, of course, you still looked beautiful as always, in one of those summer dresses that left your shoulders and collarbone on full display. God, he loved those dresses, and loved seeing you wearing them even more.

Peter went back to the arcade as if nothing had happened, but his game slowed down a bit, the movements less precise. It was enough for you to catch up.

He looked the same as always, but completely different. There was a crease between his eyebrows, his hair was tousled, and he looked disheveled.

You set the pizza and sweets on a makeshift table full of empty wrappers and called out, your voice wavering, “Peter, can we talk?”

He stopped pressing the buttons but didn’t turn around right away. For a moment, he stood there, his shoulders rigid, before straightening and turning to face you. “Sure. I’m all ears.” You felt small under his gaze.

The attempt to look nonchalant fooled no one. The tension in his jaw, the slight crease between his brows, and the arms crossed over his chest told another story.

You stepped forward, hesitating, really trying to find the right words. “I came to apologize. I was wrong, Peter. I was exhausted and overwhelmed, but that’s no excuse for yelling at you. I... I hurt you, and I’m sorry. You’re my best friend and... I really want things to go back to normal. For us to go back to how we were before.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, and he shook his head, letting out a long, heavy sigh. The gesture made your heart drop, as if you were falling off an endless cliff.

“No,” he said, his voice low but firm. A punch to the stomach wouldn’t have hurt as much.

“No?” you repeated, unable to hide the confusion and tightness that overtook you. Your heart sank in your chest, the feeling like falling.

Peter rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable, shifting his weight between his legs. “I don’t want things to go back to normal,” he explained, his voice even lower, almost a whisper.

You blinked, completely bewildered. “What does that mean?”

He took a step toward you but stopped, maintaining a small distance. His eyes met yours, and the intensity in his gaze made you hold your breath.

“It means that I’m sorry too,” he began, his voice heavy with emotion. “I shouldn’t have provoked you like that, especially when you were already exhausted. But... I do it because...” He stopped, clearly struggling to find the right words.

“Because what?” you urged, feeling your palms begin to sweat.

This was it—Peter was a tiny step away from ruining everything again. But damn it, he had to risk it. He couldn’t just pretend he wanted to be just friends. How could he? It was painful to be so close and so far away at the same time. He needed more; he wanted more.

“Because I like your attention, okay?” he finally blurted out, his voice louder than he intended. “I like when you look at me, even if it’s to tell me to shut up or roll your eyes. I like when you smile at my stupid jokes, even if you pretend you don’t find them funny. And, damn, I like being near you.”

“Peter…” you began, but he raised a hand to interrupt you.

“I know, I know,” he said, laughing nervously. “I’m terrible at this. That’s why I always hide everything behind jokes and teasing. But... it’s true. I like you. I really do. And I don’t want things to go back to normal, because, to be honest, ‘normal’ was never enough for me.”

You stood still, each of his words piercing deep into your chest, but in a sweet, almost painful way. He was there, completely vulnerable, and you didn’t know if it was possible to love him more than you did at that moment. Your heart slammed against your ribs with each painful beat.

He felt the same. Peter felt the same.

You felt tears prick your eyes, but you kept your gaze locked on him, taking in every word.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” you finally said, your voice heavy with emotion.

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that good or bad?”

“It’s annoying,” you replied, a small smile playing on your lips. “But it’s also… everything I needed to hear.”

His eyes widened slightly, shocked by your confession. “Really?”

You shrugged, feigning casualness, but your smile gave you away. “So, are you going to kiss me or keep stalling?”

The surprise on his face turned into a mischievous grin. “Oh, so now it’s me who’s stalling?”

“Peter,” you warned, but he was already closer, so fast that you barely noticed the movement.

His hands cupped your face, purposefully slow, still with a small smile curled on his lips as he moved closer and closer. Your eyes closed as you felt his breath intertwine with yours, his sweet breath making you imagine that his mouth must be even sweeter. Gently, his lips molded to yours, remaining that way for a moment before he pulled back. You felt his chest rise and fall unevenly, as if he had run around the planet. Peter murmured something, too fast for your ears to understand.

The next second his lips pressed against yours again, hungry. His hand went down your spine, firming on your waist to pull you closer, crushing you against his chest as his lips explored your mouth. You sighed as you felt his tongue, soft and warm, slide across yours, kissing you deeply. He kissed you for what could have been an eternity, stealing the air from your lungs, turning you into a fragile creature dependent on the caresses of that wicked mouth.

When you separated, he refused to stop kissing you, rubbing his lips along your jaw, leaving love bites on the side of your neck, adoring every part of you, as if to make up for all the lost time. Small noises of pleasure escaped your mouth, your knees barely seemed capable of keeping you upright, so your hands quickly found support on his broad shoulders. “Peter.” You sighed weakly, feeling your face heat as he straightened, leveling your faces. His mouth was red and swollen, with a crooked smile, his eyes darker than ever.

“I should do this more often,” he teased, his voice low and husky, his fingers still kneading the soft flesh of your waist.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile. “Maybe.”

He chuckled, gently brushing your hair away from your face, looking at you more closely. “You’re tired, aren’t you?” he asked, his tone more serious now.

“A little,” you admitted, shrugging, afraid of ruining the moment.

“Then I think it’s time for you to rest.”

“But—” He didn’t allow any objections, guiding you to the bed nearby, wide enough for both of you. He settled down beside you, pulling you to lie against him. His fingers traced calming circles on your back. “You can’t send me away anymore, got it?”

You nodded, your face pressed against the curve of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent that dulled your senses. The accumulated exhaustion finally began to ease. “But I can still make you dance to ABBA in the street.” You joked, smiling as he shuddered dramatically.

“Do your worst, you little troublemaker.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, then another to your temple, and countless others until he reached your ear. “Ask me to stay,” he whispered, and just because he could, he nipped the sensitive skin just below.

You shivered, holding him tighter in your arms, feeling his chest vibrate with a silent laugh. Raising your face, you used your siren voice. “Stay with me, Peter.”

His eyes widened in surprise, staring at you for long seconds before his lips curled into a devilish grin. “Fuck, can you do that again? Please, we need to test your powers when—”

“Peter.” You cut him off with a laugh, burying your face back against his chest, feeling your cheeks burn at the direction the conversation had taken. “Later, okay? Can we just rest now?”

“You don’t have to ask twice, love.”

The familiar sense of security you always felt around him returned in full force, but this time there was something more. Something deeper, more intimate.

With your face pressed to his neck, you hesitated for a moment before placing a soft kiss there, a silent thank-you for everything he was.

Peter tightened his embrace, and for the first time in days, you felt whole.

#quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #peter maximoff #peter maximof x reader #romance #idiots in love #evan peters #request #ask me to stay #fanfiction #fluffy #hurt/comfort #x men #evan peters x reader

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southtopaz · 2 months ago

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PSYCHO KILLER - SCREAM

Summary: in which Iris Morris has to navigate her personal relationships while surviving a psycho.

Warnings: Fem!reader, angst, violence, swearing, mention of death, Tara Carpenter x Fem reader, multiple parts, slowburn.

Word count: +5k

A/n: this part will follow the events of Scream 6 but it will take place two years later from Scream 5. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammatical mistake.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13

Iris stared at her reflection in the mirror, adjusting the collar of her makeshift Men in Black costume. The black suit felt too tight, and the sunglasses slipped down her nose. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the ridiculousness of it all. Once upon a time, the idea of going to a party with her friends would have excited her, but now the thought only made her feel uneasy.

She had Tara to thank for her current predicament. For the past two weeks, Tara had relentlessly bugged her about attending the frat party, her enthusiasm almost palpable through every text and conversation. And here Iris was, caught in a swirl of frustration and reluctantance, walking down the street with Tara, who looked radiant in her pirate costume, complete with a white shirt that showed her shoulders, a delicate gold neckclace, and a stylish headscarf. Honestly, she looked way too hot and Iris was having a hard time at pretending like she didn't notice it. She hated to admit it, but for the last thirty minutes, she'd been avoiding looking directly at Tara, fearful that if she did, she wouldn't be able to stop.

"I can't believe you convinced me to come to this stupid party," Iris muttered, trying to suppress a grin at Tara's playful smile.

"I've been told I'm really good at convincing," Tara replied, her voice dripping with mock seriousness.

"I don't think you're that good," Iris shot back, attempting to maintain her irritated facade.

Tara stopped in her tracks, causing Iris to halt beside her. The shorter girl leaned in, a special glint in her eyes. "Don't make me bring the big guys," she teased, her tone low and mischievous, clearly enjoying the moment.

Iris felt the corners of her mouth twitch upward, but she quickly shook her head. "Just don't do that thing," she gestured to Tara's face, her tone a mix of annoyance and fondness. "You know, that thing you do with your eyes."

Tara paused, her expression shifting to mock confusion as she lowered her eyelids and pouted, exaggerating the look to the point of absurdity. "What thing?" she asked, batting her lashes in a way that was almost comical.

"Ugh, I hate you," Iris groaned, unable to suppress her laughter any longer.

"Love you too!" Tara chirped, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

The distant sounds of music pulsated through the trees ahead, a vibrant invitation beckoning them closer. Yet, as they moved forward to the frat house, Iris still felt a nagging uncertainty. She glanced at the dark shadows that lined the path, the branches casting eerie shapes on the ground. Each small rustle made her heart race, and she found herself instinctively leaning closer to Tara, who kept her grounded with an easy confidence.

"Oh, hey, Tara!" called a guy in a Blackmore College jacket. He had black long hair, and a neatly groomed mustache.

"Jason," Tara greeted, her voice brightening. "Are you and Greg gonna come to the okb party?"

"Well, if he finishes his Spanish project in time, yes, we will," Jason said, raising his eyebrows with a hint of optimism. Then he turned his attention to Iris. "Hi, I'm Jason, you must be..."

"I'm Iris" her tone slightly awkward. "Nice to meet you"

Jason gave her a tight lipped smile before looking back at Tara once again, his smile widening. "Is your sister coming?"

"No way! Sam wouldn't be caught dead at a frat party," Tara chuckled, the very idea making her giggle.

Jason shrugged innocently,"There's a first time for everything," he replied, his voice laced with an overconfident nonchalance. Iris shot Jason a wary glance, picking up on a sense of arrogance that made her gut twist.

"Not tonight, though," Tara said firmly, beginning to pull Iris away from the conversation, eager to get to the party.

"Can't convince her?" Jason called after them, his voice teasing.

"No. That's not my problem, that's yours!" Tara shouted back over her shoulder, laughter mingling with the distant music.

"Save me a drink!" Jason's voice faded as they walked further down the sidewalk.

Once they were a safe distance away from the party, Iris turned to Tara, her brow furrowed with curiosity. "So, does Jason know Sam?"

Tara shrugged, her eyes darting back to the thrumming crowd they had just escaped. "Not really."

Iris tilted her head, an eyebrow raised in suspicion. "Don't you think it was a little weird that he was so interested in getting your sister to come to this party?"

"Jesus, Iris," Tara said, exasperated. "Not everyone is out there to get us."

"I know that but he was really strange,".

"It's Jason, for crying out loud! He's just a guy from my film studies class. Of course he's weird!" Tara replied, a playful smirk creeping across her face. "Maybe he has a crush on Sam."

"Yeah, or maybe he's plotting a murder. You know, a typical Friday night," Iris quipped, her tone half-serious, half-teasing.

"Okay, stop." Tara abruptly came to a halt, gripping both of Iris's shoulders with a firm yet gentle hold. "Iris, I know that you and Sam are the presidents of the Paranoid Fan Club, but I brought you here today so you could chill out. You two have been on edge for the past two years. It's time to let it go."

"Okay, rude. I'm not paranoid!" Iris shot back, feigning indignation.

"Yes, you are!" Tara countered, rolling her eyes. "I get it, but you have to start living, too."

"I know," Iris huffed, crossing her arms defiantly. "I'm living just fine, thank you very much."

"Are you, though?" Tara asked softly, her voice dropping to a more serious note. "Can you try to see it from my perspective?"

In a playful act of defiance, Iris crouched down, mimicking Tara's height. "Yeah, I can try," she said, struggling to keep a straight face.

"You are so not funny, you fucker. We were having a moment!" Tara protested, her frustration only half-hearted.

"I can't hear you from way up here," Iris replied, a teasing lilt to her voice.

"I'm going to punch you in the face," Tara said, though a smile threatened to break through her stern demeanor.

"You'll have to tiptoe to get there. It's cute, really," Iris laughed, her spirit lifting.

"Well, I don't have to tiptoe to punch you in the gut" Tara shot back as she smiled sarcastically. "Keep it up and you might find out"

"Love it when you talk dirty to me" Iris grinned, wrapping an arm around Tara's shoulders as they resumed their walk toward the house. The cool evening air was refreshing, and for a moment, the weight of their worries seemed to lighten. If only she had noticed the way Tara's cheeks flushed with warmth at the closeness.

The music thumped through the speakers, reverberating through the crowded frat house, where colorful lights flickered and danced along the walls. A bunch of faces, flushed with excitement and enthusiasm, swayed to the rhythm, their laughter punctuating the air. The scent of spilled drinks and food mingled with the sweet, fruity aroma of mixed cocktails, creating an atmosphere that was both chaotic and exhilarating.

Iris stood near the kitchen counter, where a makeshift bar had been set up. The countertops were cluttered with half-empty bottles, mixers, and stacks of red cups. She took in the scene, people dancing with their costumes on, some attempting to impress one another with their moves, while others lounged on the couches, engrossed in animated conversations. She had to admit, she was having more fun than she originally thought she would.

"So, on a scale of one to ten, how fucked you guys want to get tonight?" Mindy asked as she lined up four shots on the kitchen counter.

"Hopefully a ten!" Anika exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious as she grinned widely at the group. With that, they raised their glasses in unison and downed their shots, the liquid burning their throats as they swallowed.

Iris gagged dramatically, her face contorting in an exaggerated grimace. "God, that was awful! I'm going to go make a drink. Does anybody want one?" she declared, wiping her mouth and shaking her head in disgust at the harshness of the shot.

"I'll take one!" Tara called out, a grateful smile on her face as she leaned closer to Iris. As Iris turned to leave, Mindy shouted after her, "When did you become such a pussy? That wasn't even that strong!"

Iris shot her a middle finger over her shoulder, a smirk tugging at her lips despite the faux indignation. "Maybe my taste buds just have standards bitch" she called back, making Mindy snicker as she tried to stifle her laughter.

"Yeah, yeah, you're just weak". After Iris was out of sight, Mindy leaned in conspiratorially. "So, Tara, any hopes for tonight?" she asked, her eyebrows wiggling suggestively while wrapping an arm around Anika.

"Just have fun, I guess," Tara replied, a hint of confusion crossing her face as she tried to understand the underlying implication.

"Not planning to make a move on Iris?" Anika teased, her eyes sparkling with hope.

Tara laughed nervously, the sound a mix of embarrassment and surprise. "Why would I... I don't... I..." she stuttered, her friends bursting into laughter at her flustered state.

"Look, all I'm saying is tonight would be a great night to do it. Ask her to dance!" Mindy encouraged, her voice playful yet earnest.

"Iris hates dancing; she's going to say no," Tara protested, shaking her head as she glanced at the girl, who was now distracted by the antics of a group trying to recreate a viral TikTok dance.

"She would say no to everyone but you," Mindy replied. "She has a soft spot for you."

"No, she doesn't,"

"Yes, she does!" Anika and Mindy chimed in unison, laughter bubbling between them.

"Just test it out," Anika said, her eyes darting toward Iris, who had returned with drinks. "She's coming!"

Iris handed a brightly colored drink to Tara. "Here you go!" she said, a smile breaking across her face.

"Gotta say, Iris," Anika whistled teasingly, "That suit definitely looks good on you. Like, if I didn't have a girlfriend, I'd be jumping you right now."

Iris erupted into laughter, her face lighting up as she turned to Mindy, whose expression was one of mock horror.

"Okay, I think I just threw up!" Mindy faked gag. "You're my girlfriend; you're supposed to say she's ugly!"

"But I would be lying!" Anika countered, unable to hold back her giggles.

"God, I know. Unfortunately, you look good Iris," Mindy added dramatically, tossing her hands up in defeat. "Get out of my sight!" Iris laughed, waving them off playfully.

"What about you, Tara? Do you think Iris look good?" Anika asked intentionally, a spark in her eyes.

"Uh, yeah, definitely," Tara stammered, her eyes widening as the focus shifted to her.

"Now you're just being nice," Iris teased, nudging Tara playfully.

After a bit more lighthearted banter, Mindy and Anika made their excuses to leave, but not before Mindy shot Tara a knowing wink, leaving Tara feeling nothing but anxiety. Once they were alone, Tara turned to Iris, her heart racing. "So, umm, wanna dance?"

"Dance?" Iris snorted, her disbelief evident. "I'm terrible at it. I hate it."

"C'mon, it would be fun!" Tara urged, extending her hand with a hopeful smile.

Iris hesitated, searching Tara's eyes for a moment. Finally, with a resigned sigh, she relented. "Fine." Tara's heart soared at Iris's unexpected agreement, though she hid her surprise well. Maybe Mindy was right after all.

They stepped onto the dance floor, and Tara instinctively reached for Iris's hand.

They started to sway to the music, the soft melodies wrapping around them like a gentle breeze. Iris watched Tara move with an effortless grace, her body swaying fluidly, each motion as natural as breathing. Tara's laughter blended with the music, her eyes sparkling with joy, and Iris felt a rush of admiration with a hint of longing.

Iris tried to mimic Tara's movements, but her attempts felt clumsy and awkward. She felt stupid, her limbs stiff and uncoordinated, each sway a far cry from Tara's elegance. Dancing had never been her strong suit, and tonight was no different.

In a playful moment, Tara twirled Iris around, and they both burst into laughter when Iris stumbled slightly, inadvertently stepping on Tara's foot. The laughter felt infectious, washing away Iris's insecurities, if only for a moment. "I told you I'm terrible at this!" Iris exclaimed, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"I don't care," Tara replied, her voice light and warm. "I just want to dance with you." With that, Iris spun Tara around in return, her heart lifting at the sight of Tara's radiant smile. It was a small victory, yet it filled her with a sense of confidence she hadn't expected.

As they resumed their swaying, Iris couldn't shake the tension in her body. Each attempt to move in sync felt like a losing battle; her nerves made her movements feel rigid and forced. She found herself wiggling awkwardly to the beat, struggling to find a rhythm that felt natural.

"It'd help if you'd loosen up, ya know?" Tara chimed in, her giggle light and encouraging, cutting through the din of the party.

"How?" Iris shot back, a hint of desperation in her voice as she glanced at Tara, hoping for guidance.

"Simple! Just grab my waist," Tara suggested, stepping closer and reaching for Iris's hands. She guided them slowly to her waist, their bodies inches apart, the warmth radiating between them. "Like that," she whispered, her breath brushing against Iris's ear, sending shivers down her spine.

Iris felt her heart race, the world around them fading into a blur as she focused on the closeness, the sensation of Tara's body against hers. There was an intoxicating thrill in that moment, a rush of something deeper than just dancing. Tara's arms slipped around Iris's neck, pulling them even closer, and Iris found herself entranced, her body instinctively moving to follow Tara's lead.

As they swayed together, time seemed to stretch and bend, the music becoming a soundtrack to their connection. Iris couldn't tear her gaze away from Tara's face; the way her eyes lit up with laughter, the curve of her smile, the freckles in her cheeks, it all made Iris feel dizzy with awe. With each subtle movement, the tension began to dissolve, and for the first time, Iris felt the music seep into her bones.

"See? You're doing amazing now," Tara said, her voice warm and encouraging.

"I think it's the teacher, really," Iris teased, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

Tara's laughter was like a melody of its own, filling the air around them. Iris felt emboldened, her confidence building as she matched Tara's sway, letting herself get lost in the rhythm.

Tara started playing with Iris's tie, twirling her finger around it absently. She looked up to find Iris staring intently at every part of her face, an expression full of curiosity with something deeper. Feeling a surge of boldness, Tara decided to bridge the gap between them. With a playful tug, she pulled on Iris's tie, drawing their faces closer together.

"If you keep pulling my tie like that, you're going to mess it up," Iris warned, her voice teasing but laced with an unmistakable hint of nervousness.

"Do you want me to stop?" Tara asked, her heart racing. With another gentle tug, she closed the distance further until their noses were almost touching, the air between them charged with anticipation.

"Not really," Iris admitted, her eyes sparkling with desire. In a swift motion, she grabbed Tara's hips, pulling her even closer until their bodies pressed together. The warmth radiating between them made Tara's breath hitch, and she brought her hand to tangle them into Iris's hair.

"You know? Anika was right," Tara said, her voice low, but the words felt heavy in the charged atmosphere.

"About?" Iris's voice barely rose above a whisper as their breaths mingled in the warm air, creating an intimate bubble around them.

"You look really good today." Tara's eyes sparkled with genuine admiration, tracing the contours of Iris's face, from the gentle curve of her cheek to the way her hair framed her features.

"Just good?" Iris raised an eyebrow, a teasing lilt in her tone that sent a thrill through Tara.

"You look hot." The words hung in the air, and Iris's smirk widened, a special glint in her eyes. Tara couldn't help but glance down at Iris's lips for a moment, the urge to close the gap between them almost overwhelming.

"I just..." Tara began, her heart pounding as she searched for the right words, but her thoughts scattered when another voice cut through the moment.

"Iris, no way!" A ginger-haired boy in his twenties called out, his presence sudden and bright. Iris snapped out of her trance, her smile transforming instantly upon recognizing him.

"Damon! What are you doing here?" she exclaimed, her excitement evident as she turned to face him.

"I would never miss a party." He flashed a charming grin before his gaze shifted to Tara, an apologetic expression crossing his features. "Was I interrupting?"

"No, no, don't worry," Iris insisted quickly, a deep blush covering her face. "Mmm, this is my friend Tara."

"Hi, I'm Damon," he said, offering a warm smile that made Tara feel both welcomed and slightly annoyed. "You mind if I steal her for a second?"

Tara tried to hide her disappointment, her throat tight. "Not at all," she managed, though the words felt hollow.

Iris smiled at her, genuine and bright. "I'll see you in a bit, okay? Thanks for the dancing," she said, her eyes lingering on Tara's for a heartbeat longer.

"Yeah, no worries," Tara replied, forcing a tight-lipped smile, her heart sinking a little.

As they turned away, she heard Damon's voice carrying over the music. "I have so many people I want you to meet." They disappeared into the room, laughter and chatter swallowing them up.

Tara stood there, feeling a tightening in her chest that made her uncomfortable. She didn't know who this Damon was, but the ease between him and Iris showed that they were close, she just didn't know how much.

She had the best medicine for heartache, alcohol.

Iris was engaged in an animated conversation with Damon and three of his friends, her laughter ringing out as she gestured enthusiastically, when Anika suddenly burst into the scene, her face showing distress.

"Iris, we need your help like right now!" Anika exclaimed, grabbing Iris's hand and tugging her away before she had a chance to comprehend the situation.

"What's going on?" Iris asked, confusion flickering across her features as she tried to keep pace with Anika's rapid strides.

"It's Tara," Anika replied breathlessly, her voice laced with concern.

They quickened their steps, weaving through the crowd of students until they reached the dimly lit hall. Just as they arrived, Iris's heart sank as she caught sight of Tara ascending the staircase, her laughter echoing softly. Beside her was a tall guy with tousled brown hair, his confident posture and relaxed demeanor suggesting he was much older than Tara, a fact that sent a wave of unease through Iris.

"Hey, Tara, come here!" Iris called out, her voice firm but laced with tension. She clenched her fists, a protective instinct surging within her.

"Sorry, we didn't catch that," the older guy replied, flashing a condescending smile that only deepened Iris's frustration.

"I think you did." Iris spoke as she felt herself growing angrier every second.

"No, Iris. It's fine," Tara said, her voice slightly slurred as she leaned heavily against the railing for support, struggling to maintain her balance. "I'm just gonna get a drink and then I'll be right back." She took a wobbly step down the stairs. "You should go back to what you were doing," she added, attempting to sound casual.

"See, Iris? She wants to," the older guy said mockingly, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he flashed a triumphant grin. He reached out and grabbed Tara by the arm, making her stumble, her footing faltering as she tried to regain her balance. He kept on dragging her back up the stairs aggressively and Iris's anger finally erupted.

"Don't fucking touch her!" Iris yelled as she punched the guy straight in the face, he stumbled backward and lost his footing, crashing to the floor with a heavy thud.

"You bitch" he shouted, holding into his bloody nose as he stood up, but before he could fully regain his composure, Iris was already on him. She lunged forward, her hands gripping the fabric of his white shirt, the material cool and smooth beneath her fingers. Her heart raced, fueled by an urgent need to protect Tara, whose faint shouts urging her to stop barely registered in her mind.

"Please, Iris, don't!" Tara's voice trembled, but it felt distant, almost muffled by the pounding in Iris's ears. She could see Tara's worried expression over her shoulder, but all her focus was on the guy before her.

"Do you think you can just push her around like that?" Iris gritted through her teeth, her voice low and intense. "You enjoy taking drunk girls to your room, you fucking perv?"

"You're ruining the fun, you could've joined us if you weren't crazy".

"Touch her again, and I fucking kill you" he growled at Iris's threat, punching her with a force that sent her stumbling back. The sudden impact disoriented her for a moment, and she could feel the crowd around them erupt into a frenzy of shouts and gasps. She was pretty sure her lip was busted, but instead of showing any pain, a defiant smile spread across Iris's face, a bold expression that seemed to catch him off guard.

With adrenaline pumping through her veins, Iris lunged forward, her body propelled by anger.She closed the distance between them in an instant, driving him backward into the wall with a forceful thud. He gasped as his back hit the hard surface, his eyes wide with surprise and fury, but Iris was undeterred.

As she held him against the wall, she caught sight of the fear creeping into his eyes, and a small part of her reveled in it. The expression on his face shifted from confusion to pain as she drew her fist back and unleashed it with all her strength, landing a solid punch against his nose. The blow echoed in the air, a sharp crack that punctuated the tension surrounding them.

"You're insane" he shot back, incredulity lacing his voice, which faltered as Iris tightened her grip.

Iris leaned in, her breath barely above a whisper, low and deliberate, ensuring he could hear every word. "You have no idea, lay one hand on her and you'll find out"

Just in time, Chad strode into the room. The moment he spotted the boy making another move on Iris, a protective instinct surged within him. Without hesitation, he positioned himself directly in front of her, his posture radiating defiance.

Chad's jaw clenched as he locked eyes with the boy, who glared back defiantly. In an instant, the confrontation escalated; both men began shoving each other. Tara went to Iris to drag her away from the scene, she was still in shock from what the other girl just did.

Sam burst into the room, her eyes quickly scanned the scene, as she was assessing the turmoil unfolding before her. "Sorry to interrupt. I'm just gonna tase you in the balls real quick." He fell to the ground in pain. "Don't ever lay hands on my sister"

"You fucking bitch! Fuck you". All eyes were on her now.

"Sam! Are you fucking kidding me? You're stalking us now." Tara angrily said as she ran outside.

"Holy shit, it's that psycho girl". a guy yelled, as everyone started taking pictures off Sam, Iris quickly grabbed Sam's hand and both of them stormed out of the house.

They were chasing after Tara, who seemed to be trying to get away from Sam as fast as she could.

"Tara." Sam called after her, "Will you stop?"

"I cannot believe you did that!" Tara hissed. "You embarrassed me!" Then she pointed at Iris. "Don't even get me started on you, what the fuck is wrong with you? You punched him and now you're bleeding".

"I don't care, he deserved it"

"That guy was a dick," Sam defended Iris and herself immediately. "I'm glad Iris was there to stop him, he was going to take advantage of you"

Tara threw her arms up in exasperation, her frustration palpable as it hung in the air like a thick fog.

"So?" she challenged, her tone sharp enough to cut through the tension surrounding them.

"So?" Iris echoed, disbelief etched across her features. "You're drunk, Tara, you can't give consent" Iris felt her jaw tense, the muscles tightening as she fought to suppress the urge to lash out. The heat of the moment clawed at her restraint.

"If I want to hook up with an asshole, that's my decision!" Tara spat, her voice rising with indignation. She glared fiercely at the girls, a defiant fire blazing in her eyes. "That's my decision!"

"Okay," Sam replied, rolling her eyes with an exaggerated sigh.

"No problem," Iris interjected, her tone clipped. "Just do it when you're sober." The suggestion hung in the air, thick with irony.

"It's not about you!" Tara snapped, pivoting to face her sister. Her voice was edged with bitterness. "You're out of my life for five years, and now you can't leave me alone for five minutes!" The words came out like venom, each one a reminder of the distance that had long defined their relationship.

Iris's gaze flicked over her shoulder, noticing that the others Chad, Ethan, Mindy, and Anika had followed them outside, standing at a distance. They looked like deer caught in headlights, uncertain and awkward, the weight of the confrontation palpable.

"Because you're not dealing with what happened to us," Sam interjected bitterly. "Have you even gone to see the counselor yet?" There was a sharpness to her words, a frustration born from unaddressed pain.

"No, I'm not going to—" Tara started, but Sam cut her off.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm uninterested in living in the past like you are," Tara admitted, her voice trembling as if each syllable was a weight pulling her under.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam's brow furrowed, confusion and hurt mixing in her expression as she searched for understanding.

Tara hesitated, her eyes darting, as if she were struggling to articulate the storm brewing inside her. The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable, as the tension between the sisters persisted.

"Guys, come on," Chad interjected, sensing that the escalating situation was about to reach a boiling point. He stepped forward, his expression earnest as he aimed to diffuse the situation. "Stop arguing." His voice cut through the heated exchange.

"It means I'm not going to let what happened to us for three days define the rest of my life!" Tara shot back, her eyes blazing with defiance. The youngest Carpenter's voice cracked with raw emotion as she continued, "Therapy might work for you and Iris, but I don't need to keep revisiting the past every day." Now, Iris knew that it was true but she still couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt deep within her. It wasn't her fault she still had trouble adapting to her new reality full of mistrust and pain.

"So you're just going to pretend it never happened?" Sam asked, her tone laced with disbelief after a heavy silence hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

Tara let out a weary sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly as if the weight of the world rested upon them. "What are you doing here, Sam? In New York?" she asked, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice. "You're working two shitty jobs just to help pay for... whatever. But what's your plan? I know what I'm going to do, okay? I'm going to keep going to college, I'm going to get my degree, and I'm going to live my life. My life. Okay? You just followed me here and won't let me out of your sight." The words poured out with exasperation.

"I'm just trying to look out for you," Sam replied, her expression shifting to one of dejection.

"I know. I know you are," Tara responded, her voice softening as she met Sam's gaze. "But you can't do it for the rest of my life. You have to let me go."

"Hey!" a voice called out, slicing through the tension that filled the night air. Before anyone even got the chance to react, a cold drink was being thrown at Sam, soaking her shirt. She recoiled in shock, her eyes wide as the icy liquid dripped down her skin, sending a jolt of surprise coursing through her.

"Murderer!" The girl shouted, her voice dripping with venom, eyes blazing with accusation. The crowd around them paused, curiosity piqued by the sudden commotion. Iris felt a surge of anger rising within her; she instinctively stepped forward, fists clenching at her sides, ready to confront the girl. But Mindy was quicker, stepping in front of her with a firm hand on her chest.

"Calm down, no more fighting," Mindy urged, her tone laced with urgency. She could see the fire in Iris's eyes and knew that a confrontation would only escalate the situation further.

"What the fuck is wrong with you bitch?" Sam screeched, her voice a mixture of disbelief and fury. She struggled against the hold of her friends, the adrenaline pumping through her veins as she tried to lunge toward the girl, but they held her back firmly.

"You guys should stay away from her," the girl declared, her voice rising above the crowd. She pointed a finger accusatorily at Sam, her expression one of disdain. "She knows what she did."

"I didn't fucking do anything!" Sam shot back, her voice cracking with emotion.

"Step closer if you're so brave bitch!". Iris shouted, her protective instincts kicking in, her heart pounding. Instead of responding, the woman merely flipped Iris off, a smirk on her face as she turned on her heel and continued to walk away.

The air felt thick with unspoken emotions as the group stood in stunned silence, grappling with the unexpected aggression.

"Hey its okay, calm down". Mindy said as they all started to walk back.

Sam, still fuming, turned to Iris, the fury in her eyes mingling with despair. "I'm so sick of this shit"

"I know Sam, I know".

#scream #scream 5 #scream 6 #scream x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x female reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #sam carpenter #mindy meeks martin #chad meeks martin

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springofdrownedmillenial · 3 months ago

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***This post contains heavy spoilers for the Ryugenzawa Arc and the Nodoka storyline through Chapter 384. English scans read left-to-right and Japanese scans right-to-left. Sorry!***

In chapter 275 of Ranma 1/2, Ranma tells a rival for Akane's affections to "take care of her" before leaping to almost certain death. Pretty standard stuff, a staple scene of action movies everywhere, right before the hero sacrifices himself to save the girl he loves. Except that the macho bravado of the moment is subverted by the fact that Rumiko Takahashi renders Ranma's physical form, in this scene, as a beautiful, sorrowing girl.

Sapphic overtones aside, this moment has stayed with me because it holds the series' ideas about gender conformity, and specifically masculinity, up for inspection. Throughout the series, Ranma is preoccupied with being a "real man" and is famously out of touch with his emotions. Most of the time this character trait is played for laughs, but the series does hold a fair number of moments when Ranma expresses genuine vulnerability, and oftentimes Takahashi draws Ranma going through these scenarios in his girl form.

Before I go further, it is worth mentioning that I am by no means claiming Ranma is in his girl form any time he displays emotion or moments of vulnerability, or that vulnerability is the only kind of emotion girl-Ranma displays. Rather, I am saying that Takahashi, as a storyteller, often makes use of the gender swap device to heighten the emotional impact of a scene and that, moreover, the emotions that Ranma bodily expresses as a boy often differ in their association with gendered attributes than the ones he expresses as a girl. As a boy, Ranma expresses anger, belligerence, confusion, comically rendered fear - all "active," masculine-coded feelings. On the other hand, during moments of sadness, uncertainty, acquiescence, or some sense of loss, when they are not played for laughs or as a setup to a gag, he is often drawn as a girl. Even though Ranma is constantly trying to return to being a "real" man, Takahashi repeatedly undercuts the idea that this is a good and worthwhile thing to aspire to.

I won't get into what makes a "real man" here, but it's pretty easy to pick up on; as it turns out, the rules of heteronormative Japanese masculinity are a lot like the American ones: boys don't show weakness, boys don't back down or admit when they're wrong, boys don't show sadness or fear, and above all they don't eat girly stuff like yogurt parfaits.

Takahashi gets around the rules of masculinity by having Ranma embody vulnerability in a female body. This is both a loophole and a subversion. As a girl, Ranma is now "allowed" to show certain emotions, just like he is "allowed" to eat parfaits without inviting social judgement when in his female body. But since his gender identity remains male, he is still a boy eating the parfait, having these emotions. What makes his female-bodied vulnerability interesting is how it later affects his ability or willingness to express "un-manly" emotions while in his male body.

So, to return to Chapter 275: The thing is, Takahashi could have easily drawn Ranma as a boy in this panel. It would have been easy to insert a shot of him turning back into a boy via a Magically Appearing Kettle. As I stated earlier, this scene could have played like a macho action movie, with one guy "handing over" his girlfriend to another guy before sacrificing himself. And if Ranma were in his boy form when saying this line, it would definitely strengthen that read. You can easily imagine him delivering the line with a kind of macho stoicism and fortitude. But he doesn't. He delivers the line in his girl form, and what’s more Takahashi ramps up the ante here and draws him as downright beautiful. His features are exaggerated to emphasize femininity, with a small, rounded face shape and a delicately pointed chin. Ranma's eyes are huge, and light reflections take up most of the pupils, giving them a luminous appearance. This panel directly follows two shots of Akane and Ranma gazing at each other without speaking, and because the line is delivered so quietly, paired with Ranma's hyper-feminine appearance and expression, it locks the reader into the emotional intensity of the moment. In this moment, we're not thinking about Orochi. We're looking at Ranma mourning the loss of his relationship with Akane.

Remember that Ranma is under the understandable, if mistaken, impression that Akane has effectively tossed him over and chosen Shinnosuke as her new beau. This scene is not subtle about reinforcing the misunderstanding. Shinnosuke kept pace with Ranma in rescuing Akane from Orochi, he's sitting right next to her as she wakes up. In this panel Ranma is accepting and respecting what he thinks is Akane's decision to be with someone else, and this setup makes Ranma and Akane's reunification in the next chapter all the more impactful and romantic.

Without this panel, would we have gotten that final scene – surely one of the loveliest in the whole series – of Ranma mentally rehearsing all the things he wants to say to Akane and reaching for her hand? I would argue no. While Ranma was plenty upset after Akane first slapped him and shedding his feelings all over the place, in his boy form he expressed himself angrily, petulantly, and childishly - and that was when he wasn't repressing his emotions altogether. That's not the behavior of someone who possesses great emotional maturity. It is only after this scene that he is able, as a boy, to speak sincerely. And I would argue that it's largely because of his vulnerability in this scene that he’s eventually able to at least try to connect emotionally with Akane without hiding behind a lot of bluster and insults.

The tug of war between machismo and vulnerability comes to the fore even more strongly in the long Nodoka subarc that runs through the second half of the series. In a nutshell, Ranma's long-lost mother reappears in his life and is eager to reunite with Ranma, but with a catch: if Ranma hasn't grown up to be a "completely manly," then both Ranma and Genma will be held to a promise to commit ritual suicide. By conventional definitions, Ranma, obviously, is not 100% male and, faced with the prospect of literal death, meets with his mother as Akane's made-up cousin "Ranko," all the while dreaming of the day he can reunite with Nodoka as his real self.

The chapters involving Nodoka are gag-based and comical, and largely turn on ever more preposterous scenarios in which Ranma must constantly switch between his male and female bodies. One of the more serious arcs in this subplot involves Kumon Ryuu, a boy who impersonates Ranma and moves into Nodoka's house after convincing her he is her son. Ranma, of course, fights Ryuu in order to reclaim his name and identity. This arc is poignant and, unlike most other Nodoka arcs, played mostly as a dramatic storyline, because Takahashi makes no bones about how much Ranma loves his mother. This is the one relationship that Ranma wants and pursues without any kind of bluster or contrariness. He doesn't pretend that he doesn't want to see Nodoka. He doesn't rebuff her with rudeness or insensitive remarks. Ranma makes it clear that his mother is important to him and that he will go to extraordinary lengths to be in her life and have a connection with her.

Although Ranma ultimately defeats Ryuu in combat, there are two panels show how much of a pyrrhic victory this is. After the battle, Ranma get punted into a water trough (as one does) and, in his girl form, hides behind a pile of rubble while Nodoka confronts Ryuu. We see clearly how dejected Ranma is in this scene. Even though he is drawn in the foreground, Takahashi makes him look small next to the mound of dirt, and the way he is positioned, hunching down, hugging his knees, makes him look even tinier. He just looks really lonely and really sad, listening to his mother speak so gently to a boy who is not himself.

In the second panel, Ranma, still sitting in the same position, now looks even tinier, as the panel is drawn from an aerial perspective with Ryuu in the foreground and Ranma in the middle ground. Ryuu advises him to tell Nodoka the truth before departing for good. This is such a heartbreaking conclusion to this arc: Despite the physical and inner ordeals he has endured for his mother's sake, in the end he is reduced to hiding himself away, unable to either reveal himself or speak the truth. Emotionally, this is one of Ranma's lowest points, and once again, because the rules of masculinity preclude Ranma from expressing sincere dejection in a male body, Takahashi makes use of his female body and emphasizes his smallness to visually convey his emotional state.

Unlike in the Ryugenzawa arc, Ranma's display of vulnerability in his girl form doesn't lead to an emotional breakthrough in his boy form, as he remains a girl for the rest of the arc, which concludes on the next page. But it is striking that Ryuu, an antagonist and total outsider to Ranma's long-running drama, should be so insightful into the whole situation. He doesn't tell Ranma to 'man up' or to find a cure. He sees what is outwardly a forlorn girl and says, simply, 'tell the truth.' Whatever beliefs Ranma has about the "right" way to present himself to his mother doesn't matter. The truth is what matters. For his part, Ranma absorbs Ryuu's advice without a word, and it is perhaps telling that although it will take another 85(!!) chapters before the Nodoka subplot is finally resolved, Nodoka only appears in three more storylines in between. This moment is really the beginning of the end for this whole rigamarole.

This scene also shows how exhausting it is to keep up the ruse. It is stressful to have to pretend to be someone else in order to keep a relationship with a loved one. It must also be so emotionally taxing to be thwarted every time you work up the nerve to tell the truth, just as it must be to have terror of the consequences of outing yourself almost involuntarily override your desire to connect.

And indeed, it all comes to a head in the subplot's concluding arc. Ranma, in his girl form, finds himself continuously confronting Genma, who as usual wants to prevent him from revealing the truth to Nodoka, and running away from Nodoka herself. Finally, Genma knocks him out, and when he regains consciousness he hazily sees Nodoka bending over him, holding a water kettle. Instinctively, Ranma splits the kettle open with a leg slash, only to discover it is empty. Ranma and Nodoka face each other for a moment before Ranma runs off.

The only way I can describe Ranma's expression in this panel is "devastated." The position of his eyebrows really makes this a unique expression. Whatever boy Ranma's mental state, be it confusion, smugness, or shock, his brows are usually furrowed downwards, suggesting dominance, control, and assertiveness. Here, however, they're arched much less sharply, opening up his whole face.

As he runs away, Ranma expresses fear that his mother has discovered the secret to his transformation. That's certainly a reason to be devastated. However, I also read this moment as being the horrible, worst-case culmination of all the stress Ranma has been under so far. He has become so panicked and worn down that he is lashing out, however inadvertently, at the one person he is desperate to please, and once again Takahashi uses his female form to visually communicate that Ranma is at his lowest emotional point.

But all is not lost! Somewhat beautifully, Takahashi shows that girl Ranma is also a conduit of positive vulnerability. In the next chapter, Ranma (still in his girl form) wakes up from a nightmare and immediately has to evade an attack from Genma. Genma reminds him that if he tells Nodoka the truth, both of them will have to commit seppuku. It's the same old go-around; we have seen this exchange before, and we know what's coming next: Ranma's going to declare that he's going to meet his mom anyway, and Nodoka will show up, and Ranma will reflexively chicken out and turn into his girl form.

This time, however, Ranma does something unexpected. He says, with a smile on his face, "Dad...I wanna stop lying already." He looks completely at peace, and it's clear that following the harrowing confrontation with his mother, Ranma's outlook has irrevocably shifted. His desire to reunite with Nodoka is finally more powerful than his fear of death, and he will accept whatever consequences may come, so long as he can meet with his mother honestly.

In contrast to how he is drawn in the Ryugenzawa arc, Ranma's face here is almost a blend of masculine and feminine features. His jawline is stronger and his eyes sit higher on the face, giving him a less exaggerated, delicate look. If his boy and girl forms were combined into one body, this is how he might appear, and his harmonized features reflect the resolution of his inner turmoil.

Once again, in a world where kettles of hot water can and do appear out of thin air, Takahashi could easily have had Ranma deliver this line in his male form. I think that she doesn't because it is important to show Ranma breaking the cycle of deception and evasion that Genma has trapped him in up until now. He's not responding with aggression this time, but rather with peace and acceptance and a new-found moral conviction. He dials down the energy; he's not doing this anymore. This is, as much as anything, an assertion of independence from his father's influence: Ranma has found his own way forward and is no longer going to let the terms of his relationship with Nodoka be dictated by fear and cowardice.

The payoff comes in the arc's climactic scene when Ranma, now in his male body, rescues Nodoka after she falls off a cliff. Mother and son are finally reunited face-to-face and, in a really touching detail, Ranma's long-awaited reunion plays out totally differently than how he has fantasized. Instead of being a cool and composed tower of manly virility, welcoming his mother into his manly arms, Ranma starts to cry and clings to Nodoka while burying his head in her shoulder. It is a pure, cathartic, completely unmanly display of emotion, and this time Ranma does it all while in a male body.

Amazingly, Ranma goes even further in trying to express himself. We see his inner monologue as he urges himself to tell Nodoka that he was Ranko, and even starts to say so out loud before he is stopped by - of course - Genma. This is a critical character development moment because, having just performed a heroic rescue, he quite honestly doesn't have to tell the truth. He could have hustled Nodoka back up to safety and just tried extra hard to remain male for the rest of the day. But he commits to his own words: He wants to stop lying. He wants to present his whole self to Nodoka, and that includes the non-masculine parts of his identity.

In the series, so much of the characters' time is preoccupied with policing gender conformity, which is not unsurprising for a gender-bender series. Ranma is inundated with comments about how a man should behave and he shouldn't behave, how he should think and how he shouldn't think, which emotions are appropriate and which ones are not. Ranma puts himself into a bind because for the most part he subscribes to this model of masculinity, and indeed until relatively recently he was nearly the perfect embodiment of it. But being "100% manly" just sends Ranma into a vicious cycle of misunderstandings and arguments and isolates him from the people he loves. The hard lesson he learns is that when he actually taps into "weaker," "unmanly" feelings, he's able to break out of this unproductive cycle and move forward to achieve his goals.

Although Ranma’s quest is to regain his manhood, we are not meant to cheer on Ranma's displays of machismo. The takeaway from Ranma's moments of vulnerability is not that it's ok to show emotions so long as you appear to be a girl. It is that heteronormative masculinity is so restrictive and so repressive that it cuts off outlets of healthy, human emotional expression. It is both futile and harmful to keep chasing after a type of masculinity that isn't really realistic to embody and still retain a sense of an emotionally whole self. Ranma isn't just a tough guy. He has deep reserves of sensitivity. He is sad sometimes. He feels heartbreak deeply. He is a boy who just wants his mother.

#ranma 1/2 #ranma saotome #nodoka saotome #ranma longpost #ranma spoilers #character analysis #toxic masculinity

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real-fire-emblem-takes · 9 months ago

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i wouldn't say Bernadetta is "discount" Alcryst so much as they serve essentially the same purpose (exaggerated fear and self-deprecation as comic relief), but Bernadetta's background makes her being written this way feel tasteless (like her having trauma-induced anxiety and social phobia is the butt of the joke, and in a way that feels almost fetishistic at times) and the way other characters react to her is generally either thinking she's strange or pushing her out of her comfort zone against her will, whereas Alcryst's insecurity is more of a quirk due to an unfounded perception of himself, and other characters are generally very supportive of him and try to help him see himself differently without pushing him too hard, so the narrative feels at least somewhat respectful of him despite playing him up for comedy. it's more a matter of writing than anything

#fe #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fe16 #fe3h #fe 3 houses #fire emblem engage #fe17 #fe engage #alcryst fire emblem #bernadetta von varley

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cluelessatthispoint · 2 years ago

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How’d mercs react when their S/O broke a bone in their body ?

OOOOOH! This is a good ask! I've never broken a bone before; I can only imagine what the pain and confusion is like.

Well, after finally getting a new laptop, here is your request.

~~~~~~~~

The sound of muffled yelling and a faint buzzing assaulted your ears. The feeling of all the air in your lungs leaving your body was almost as noticeable as the faint tingling sensation in your leg. The company picnic went from roaring cheers to an eerie silent. Your eyes were wide and unfocused, blurry shapes darted in front of your face. The sun felt all too warm of your skin and the breeze that ghosted over the field engulfed your form in a toasty embrace. The person kneeling in front of you drops their bat and from what you can tell, waves their hand in front of your eyes. Pitifully blinking away the tears, you finally are able to register the searing white hot pain radiating in your left leg.

Scout:

"Holy Crap!" (y/n)!? Are you okay?"

Lifting your head from off the matted field you struggle to lift the rest of your body from the ground.

"I wouldn't move if I were you-that looks really bad! I mean I ain't no doctor-but good thing we have a medic on base!"

Blinking away your tears you try to look down at where the pain is coming from, but calloused fingers gently bring your face to look away.

In short: Scout knows the basics of how to make a splint; but since it's you, he takes you to Medic. Scout makes you soup, gets you an icepack, elevates your leg with plenty of pillows and makes sure to give you the right dosage of pain medication. And when times are really rough, he will sit down next to you and snuggle. His long lanky arms wrapped around your chest as you lean all your weight into his side.

Sniper:

"Look at me Roo, look at me."

Sniper's commanding voice draws your attention away from the crowd of people swarming in to offer assistance. His wide blue eyes gaze at you in concern. Looking you over for any other injuries he motions for medic to come over. The rest of the day is a blur, you remember how firm and gentle hands ushered you to lay back down in Sniper's hold. The feeling of your leg growing numb and heavy. Every time you let out a small noise of discomfort Sniper leaned down to your ear and whispered small comforts and distractions.

At the end of the day, you and Sniper are resting in bed. Your head nestled gently against his chest.

Soldier:

You can't be sure if you're the one screaming or if your boyfriend is. All you see are lips moving and how exaggerated his arm movements are. The situation would almost be comical if not for the blinding pain making its presence known in your leg.

"(Y/N)!"

"(Y/N), don't move, don't move a single inch! Medic is on his way! When he's here then you can move!"

You blink up at Soldier, his wide eyes and quivering lip betraying his confident persona. When the cast is set in place, and you are sent back to your room Soldier makes great efforts to ensure your safety and well-being. He will wrap you in your favorite blankets and bring you all your favorite snacks. Time was passed, by watching tv, or listening to all his war stories.

Spy:

That one second of pain was all it took for him to disappear and reappear by your side. Whispering sweet words of comfort, he cradled your head in his chest with one hand while silently beckoning the resident medic out onto the field. His soft voice anchors you to this moment. It's calming in a scary sort of way. Being in his profession; Spy knows for sure what kind of pain you are going through. All the times he had to make sure that he wasn't left behind enemy lines unable to defend himself. How he delt with that fear, how he dealt with that pain. He wants to make sure that you never have to be in pain while alone. Back at base he treats you as if you were made of the finest porcelain. As if one wrong move might shatter you. He makes Medic do daily check-ups to see how you are and he makes you all the finest home cooked meals that you could ever want.

Demoman:

His strong arms wrap around your torso and gently picks you up, only to set you back down when your leg moves in an unnatural angle. Eye widening in shock, he runs back to the tent and drags a concerned Medic over.

"Aye, Look at me darlin-aye that's right, focus only on me-you're okay, you're okay."

When Medic is done looking you over, he carries you bridal style back to his room and makes you as comfortable as he possibly can. He brings over a deck of cards to play with, the tv set from the rec room, even the bookshelf from your room.

Pyro:

All hell breaks loose. Dragging both Engineer and Medic to your side he pets your head as Medic turns you over to your front side. Engineer: on the opposite side of Pyro and Medic, supports the rest of your weight as you are carried over to the medical wing. Pyro sticks by your side while Medic works his magic. His warm arms encase you in a tight embrace when you finally are declared healthy enough to go back to your room for rest. Pyro brings you all his stuffed animals, games, plushies and blankets. Anything you need and more is brought into your room making the space look more like a daycare than a normal room.

"Thank you Py, I really appreciate it."

Heavy:

When he sees you fall, he sees red. His instincts go on overdrive. He rushes over as fast as he can and without warning he resets your leg and makes a splint.

"Shhh, it is okay to cry, let it out."

Looking you over and trying to assess the situation only one conclusion comes to mind.

"Now we go to see Medic."

Leaving no room for an argument he lifts you up and brings you to the doctor. After getting pain medication, he carries you to your room and makes you his homemade soup. Heavy knows how much pain you are in and strives to make you feel comfortable. He treats you no different, because he already treated you like royalty.

Medic:

Seeing you struggle to stand back up from that nasty fall was all it took for Medic to know that something was amiss. He asks Heavy to return with a gurney and he sprints over to your side. His questions are clam and practiced, but his tone of voice has a noticeable falter. Enough to know that he was scared.

"Alrighty, now we are going to pay little Archimedes a visit in the lab, and then we shall go on from there, ja?"

Medic wastes no time in getting cast on and giving you medicine. He knows that now you are physically okay. But he wants to know what's going on upstairs. Gently he takes you back to your room and helps you undress and redress in more comfortable clothing.

"Lieb?"

You say nothing but hold on to him as tightly as you can.

Engineer:

Engineer has seen his fair share of accidents working out on the farm as a child. So, when you fall, and the sound of a CRUNCH was heard that was all he needed to know that you were not all right.

"I'm coming Darlin!"

Strong hands turn you over to your front and you are greeted with the brightest blue eyes that you've ever seen.

"Hey, Dell."

The calm aura that you were letting off only confirmed the fact that you didn't know that your leg was broken yet.

"Alright, I'm going to take you over to Medic so he can look you over, how's that sound?"

You could only nod in agreement.

After getting settled with a cast and a numb leg. Engineer carried you to his room and made you some tea, snacks and brought over some blankets. For the next few weeks, it felt as if you were in heaven on earth.

~~~

Ta da! Hope you like it!

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rebbiasisback · 9 days ago

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The Jungle Gym Disaster

It was a sunny afternoon, and Eric was in the mood for some mischief. He’d been plotting for days, thinking of the perfect prank to pull on his best friend, Rebbias. Eric knew one thing for sure: Rebbias had an irrational, almost comical fear of heights. The mere thought of being a few feet off the ground made him break out in a cold sweat. And Eric had the perfect idea to exploit that fear.

The old jungle gym at the park was the ideal setting for Eric’s prank. It had a tall platform that loomed at least 10 feet above the ground, and Rebbias was always a little hesitant around it. Eric had watched him struggle with even the simplest jungle gym climbs before, so this would be easy.

Eric’s plan? To tie Rebbias' shoelaces to one of the lower bars on the jungle gym, and when Rebbias started climbing, he’d be stuck—suspended just enough to trigger a panic attack, but with no real danger involved.

The Setup:

Eric waited until they reached the park. Rebbias was distracted, chatting with some other friends, so Eric snuck up behind him and swiftly tied both of Rebbias’ shoelaces to a low bar on the jungle gym, making sure the knot was tight and secure. Once done, he stepped back, trying to suppress his grin.

When Rebbias returned, Eric casually suggested, “Hey, wanna climb the jungle gym with me? I bet I can get to the top faster.”

Rebbias, always up for a challenge, agreed without thinking. “You’re on! I’m not scared of that thing.”

Eric led the way up the ladder to the platform, making it look easy. Rebbias followed closely behind, but as he stepped onto the first rung of the ladder, something felt off.

“Wait, what the—?” Rebbias muttered, feeling a strange resistance in his shoes. “Why are my shoes... stuck?”

Eric, grinning mischievously from above, pretended to be confused. “What do you mean? You good?”

Rebbias bent down to check and saw that his shoelaces were tied securely to the jungle gym below. “Eric!” he yelled. “Are you messing with me?!”

“Messing with you? Nah, you’re just imagining things,” Eric replied with an exaggerated shrug, holding back laughter.

Rebbias tried to free his feet, pulling at the laces. “Dude, help me! I’m stuck!”

Eric couldn’t contain himself anymore. “Nah, you’ve got this! Just keep going, climb up!”

Rebbias, now fully realizing what had happened, hesitated at the base of the jungle gym. His fear of heights kicked in as soon as he looked up at the platform, and the idea of climbing up with his shoes tied down made it feel even worse.

“I’m not doing this,” Rebbias muttered, his face turning pale. He tried to take a step, but his feet were still tethered to the bars. “I can’t move, man. This is crazy.”

Eric, still having the time of his life, said, “Come on, man! You’ve got this! What’s the worst that could happen?”

Rebbias glanced nervously from the ladder to the platform. His legs felt like jelly. “Eric, you know I hate heights. You can’t do this to me. Not this time.”

But Eric wasn’t letting up. “You’re fine, just climb! Don’t be a baby.”

Reluctantly, Rebbias took a shaky step up the ladder, trying to ignore the panic rising in his chest. But as he got a few steps up, he felt a deep sense of dread as the ground seemed to fall away beneath him. His heart started to race, his palms became clammy, and his legs felt like they might give out at any second.

“I’m—I’m not okay with this,” Rebbias squeaked, stopping dead in his tracks.

Eric, now halfway up, peeked over at him. “Dude, you’re like five feet off the ground. You’ve gotta keep going, don’t let your fear win!”

Rebbias froze, his eyes wide with terror. He was so high up, and the world felt like it was spinning. “Eric,” he started to whimper, “I can’t—please, I can’t do it!”

Eric leaned down from the platform, his grin still in full force. “It’s fine, Rebbias! You’re not gonna fall. Just keep climbing. It’s just like... a little height. Think of it like a fun challenge!”

But Rebbias’ fear had taken over. He started to freak out, his voice trembling. “I swear to God, if I fall, I’m never forgiving you!”

Eric chuckled, trying to get a little more sympathy out of the situation. “You’re fine! Look, I’m right here. You’re safe.”

Rebbias, with his heart pounding, took one more step up the ladder but immediately began to feel dizzy. He felt stuck—his shoes tied, his body frozen halfway up, and his fear of heights growing by the second. “I can’t do it,” he whined, starting to tremble. “I can’t! This is too much, man. I’m freaking out!”

Eric, still grinning, finally reached down and pushed Rebbias, who fell with a ear-shattering scream, but his fall was caught by the tie.

He was now suspended off the ground, and before he knew it, he felt bile rise- suddenly, thick orange liquid oozed from Rebbias mouth, covering his face.

I would never whimper or whine this isn’t me

#columbine edit #columbine fanart #columbine high massacre #columbine massacre #columbine memes #dylan 1999 #eric 1999 #eric and dylan #eric columbine #teeceecee

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burningthrucelluloid · 24 days ago

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Christmas Carol-cember Day 5

You know what’s rather disappointing looking up different adaptions of a Christmas Carol? The lack of diversity that comes with the lead role of Scrooge.

I understand that the novella was written in the 1840s so older white men playing the role is to be expected, but why not change things up?

I was disappointed to find there was not a lot of variety in the performers who take on the role of Ebenezer Scrooge. I did find a version of a Christmas Carol that involved a predominately Indian cast called “Christmas Karma,” but could not find a release date so I have no idea how diverse that one is.

But as I was starting to lose hope, I found that there was an adaption of the Dickens novel that actually had a woman in the lead role of Scrooge; “Beverly Hills 90210” star, Tori Spelling.

If that name filled you with the same amount of excitement as getting mac and cheese with Velveeta, then you’ll be just as disappointed to learn this film was brought to us by, of all networks, The Hallmark Channel.

But if you’re expecting this to be Hallmark’s usual run of Holiday movies where the man abandons her job for a guy, prepare to be surprised cause this came out in 2003.

Our Scrooge for this goes by the name Carol Cartman, a bossy talk show host who treats her employees so poorly, she sends them all soap as a Christmas bonus under the belief that they “are all so dirty anyway.” She also overworks her assistant who has to support a child and scoffs at the hand made gifts her niece and nephew make her while brushing off the chance to hang out with them for Christmas. She even rejects foster children cause she doesn’t want to spotlight them on her show to hand out presents.

She is so mean this white dude in a doo-rag literally has to hide from her or else he fears he’ll lose his job on Christmas Eve.

But the ghostly warnings of her gold chain-clad Aunt Marla, Dinah Manoff, signal the arrival of three ghostly apparitions to give her this rare chance to turn her life around…oh and win back the guy she lost cause he focused his career on charitable giving and she worked to become a TV star all cause her Aunt was secretly greedy and profiting off her niece.

It seems strange to say this, but this film is more cartoonish than the Mickey Mouse short.

Tori Spelling’s meanness is so over the top, she literally declares with an exaggerated “ugh” over the notion of allowing foster kids onto her set and threatens to fire people for minor infractions. That’s not even counting her Aunt Marla or a TV producer comically laughing like supervillains in a limo or the peachy love montage between Carol and her “super selfless boyfriend.” Even when the two hook back up by the movie’s end, they go in so hard, I half expected the next scene to involve clothes being tossed around.

Which is so bizarre to me. Sure, many actors who play Scrooge tend to lean in too much on the cartoonish interpretation of the character, but here, Spelling is leaning a tad too hard on being cartoonishly nasty. It reaches a point where you find yourself laughing at nasty she acts, even when she finally starts to realize she was wrong and makes the change, it’s so weirdly subdued that you wonder if she broke. So much so by the time she undergoes the change, it comes off as disingenuous, even when it’s clear she has genuinely learned the lesson.

The casting is probably the strangest thing about this movie. Well not the supporting cast who are under Carol’s iron thumb, they do their jobs well with the roles provided for them, but I mean the casting choices for the Ghosts are truly the strangest decisions. Gary Coleman from “Diff’rent Strokes,” William Shatner from “Star Trek,” And James Cromwell…I dunno, “Six Feet Under?”

I get the feeling these three knew what kind of movie they were in cause their performances are surprisingly goofy and almost bounce the line between straight up breaking the Fourth Wall. Though I weirdly got some enjoyment out of Coleman’s smart-ass performance as the Ghost of the Past and William Shatner actively realizing his own lines of dialogue are cliched and lame. While Cromwell doesn’t talk, there’s something cartoonishly funny about the way he just stands around and stares while occasionally raising this hand like he’s ready to dramatically flush the toilet.

I know I’m making this movie out to be like it’s pretty bad, which is kinda is.

The crying shame in it though is, I kinda want to see a film like this told from a woman’s perspective.

The hard work women have to go through to earn respect in a cut throat industry. The untold sexism that they are routinely subjected to all to achieve their dreams and goals. To understand that perspective would have been a very unique direction for a film like this to go. Alas, this film was written by a white guy whose film credits predominately focused on ADR. So telling a story from the point of view of a woman was clearly not what this guy was gonna provide.

It’s a shame. I would love to see a version of this story from a woman’s perspective to offer something that hasn’t been shown before hundreds of times from a white dude…or a duck.

While I can’t strongly recommend this film, I will say it has it’s moments and even for a Christmas Carol set in modern times and on the budget of a Hallmark movie, I’m impressed with how much they achieved, even though I wish they could have done more.

Then again, whenever I think of this film having some commentary about the nature of television ratings and the cut-throat nature of TV and how a TV host would learn the error of their ways, I realize we already have that movie and that one starred Bill Murray.

"A Carol Christmas" is available for streaming on Amazon Prime.

Or if you don't want to justify watching it on a subscription service, you can find it on YouTube.

Next time, we’re going back to London in the 1840s with an actor taking on the role of Scrooge who is truly Shakespearean.

#ebenezer scrooge #reviews #christmas carol #a christmas carol #tori spelling #A Carol Christmas #hallmark #hallmark movies #hallmark christmas movies #christmas movie #hallmark channel #william shatner #gary coleman #james cromwell

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s10127470 · 9 months ago

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X-Men: The Next Mutation (Revised)

I'm sure some of you reading know by now, almost a year ago, as one of my earliest posts on this site, I shared an idea I had for an new cartoon based around the X-Men titled "X-Men: The Next Mutation"

And people really seemed to like it.

But looking back at it, while I don't think its bad by any means, I do feel like I could've gone into more detail on a few things.

So in honor of the recent release of the long-anticipated X-Men '97, I've decided to revised the concept and make it a little more fleshed-out.

So without further ado, let's get started!

A lot of my previous points from my original post still stand, but just to recap....

This series would essentially be a spiritual successor to Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Just like that series, it feature will an all-new take on the X-Men. Though they wouldn’t nearly as drastically changed. Along with that, the series will make the X-Men more powerful than most of their other iterations through Secondary and Tertiary mutations.

In the comics, from what I’ve read, additional Mutations are rather rare, only happening to few mutants.

Essentially this series will be expanding on the concept of Secondary Mutations, as in this universe, they’re far more common among mutants, with about 90% of the population often experiencing them during early adulthood.

Tertiary Mutations, however, are a lot rarer, with only some mutants experiencing them in their lives.

Though on this case on Mutations, they would be categorized and labeled in a similar fashion to the Quirks from My Hero Academia.

The animation for this series would be done by Flying Bark Studios, the same studio that not only did the animation for Rise, but also other shows like Glitch Techs and Monkie Kid.

And I mean….you seriously wouldn’t want a Marvel cartoon with animation like this?!

youtube

I can already feel the whiplash people would have after seeing something like this (and X-Men '97) after having spent a decade with Marvel cartoons with stiff and cheap animation.

As for the art-style, in contrast to the more realistic (and obviously MCU adjacent) style that Marvel’s previous cartoons had used during most of the 2010s, X-Men will have a far more stylized and exaggerated.

Originally, I choose ArtFrenzyBoris as the one do the art-style for this show.

But after thinking about it, I feel like fellow Deviantart artist Garth2The2ndPower would be a perfect choice as well.

Her art-style just screams that it would translate well to animation.

The best way I could describe her style is like a perfect fusion between Japanese anime and Western cartoons.

Its look is quite reminiscent of anime, but you can clearly tell hat it was made in the West.

Plus, it looks like it came straight out of an action cartoon from the mid-to-late 2000s/early 2010s.

Another awesome thing about her style is just how incredibly expressive it. I love when animated characters are allowed to actually feel, well, animated.

It just makes them feel more alive in my opinion.

And given the animation studio Garth would be working it, that’s a must.

Anyway, here’s just some of the art she's done….

Similar to Rise of the TMNT, the series will sport a more comedic, light-hearted tone than its previous iterations and be more episodic with some story arcs sprinkled about. I know some people are gonna have a problem with the first detail thanks to one particular show that I’m not gonna mention making people think that anything remotely comedic involving long-existing superheroes is automatically bad. But similar to Rise, despite being more light-hearted and comedy focused, it won’t shy away from dramatic or emotional moments. As for the latter, that won’t be problem since the 90s show and X-Men Evolution did the same thing as well.

Also, might be a bit controversial, but the way mutants are viewed in this universe is a bit more neutral than most iterations. While some of humanity still hates and fears them, others are actually fine and even like them. I’ve always liked it when the X-Men actually had human supporters (or at least humans who actually appreciate what they do), which most adaptations almost never really explore.

The series will also feature various romantic relationships. Some iconic, some rare, some that were set up but never explored, some popular with the fans, and even some that have never really been considered. Also, there will be no relationship drama (or at least drama that isn’t melodramatic or shit). Yes…that does mean you-know-what will be not featured in the series in any kind of way…..and I think we will all be better off for it.

As for the X-Men themselves, the roster is a little smaller than I initially shared for the first post.

And unlike the first post, I'll actually be diving into their characters apart from their powers.

But before I do that, I do want to bring up this cool detail.

The X-Men in this series (at first), will be wearing team uniforms similar to their teen years.

And this is what they'll look like.....

Done by TheScarletMercenary, I've always felt these outfits were a perfect modernization of the classic X-Men outfits from the 60s.

Also, there will be some variations on these outfits for some of the X-Men.

Anyway, let's go ahead and actually talk about the team themselves, starting off with the leader himself and the first X-Men, Scott Summers, codename: Cyclops.

This Scott is quite similar to his Evolution counterpart, being far more confident, outgoing and optimistic than most of his other iterations. But he does still have that great sense of discipline and responsibility (which could be the result of his father being an Air Force veteran), that made him the perfect person to be the leader of the team.

Scott himself hails from Anchorage, Alaska, is 18-years old, stands at 6’0 and weighs 187 lbs, has fair skin, a slim (almost gangly-like) but fairly lean build, shaggy brown hair in a curtains style and his eyes are usually covered by either his trademark yellow visor with red lenses or his pair of ruby-quartz sunglasses.

As for his backstory, it's largely the same as in the comics, with only two notable differences.

His younger brother Alex (who I'll touch more on a little later), wasn't separated from him and they actually got to grow up together.

His childhood wasn't tampered/monitored by "you-know-who".

As for what he's capable of....

Scott's Primary Mutation is Optic Blast, which grants him the ability to shoot powerful beams of ruby-colored concussive force from his eyes. However (like in every other iteration), he can’t exactly control them due to a childhood injury. So he has to always wear either his visor or sunglasses in order to keep them at bay. But he does have enough control over them to control the trajectory, size and even density of his beams. From being wide enough to demolish a wall, to light enough to bounce off surfaces. He’s also a surprisingly skilled tactician for someone his age, possesses an uncanny sense of spatial awareness and is trained in hand-to-hand combat.

His Secondary Mutation is Energy Channel, which grants him the ability to harness the energy of his optic beams throughout his body. As you would expect, this grants him new abilities. These including being capable of augmenting his speed and strength to superhuman levels, granting himself the power of flight, and shooting his concussive beams from other parts of his body beside his eyes like his hands and feets.

As for his voice actor, Scott will be voiced once again by his recurring VA, the ironically named Scott Porter.

Next we come to the second member of the X-Men, Jean Grey, codename: Psyche.

Jean is what would expect from any version of the character: spunky, outgoing and caring, she’s sort of like the big sister of the team.

Jean herself hails from Trenton, New Jersey, is 18-years old, stands at 5'5 and weighs 130 lbs, has fair skin, an hourglass figure with a bottom heavy build, red hair in a bob-cut, green eyes and red lips.

As for her backstory, it's largely the same as in the comics and other iterations of the character.

Jean's Mutation is Psionic, which grants her various telepathic and telekinetic abilities. Apart from the obvious reading the thoughts of others and moving things with her mind, she can also project psionic energy (which is colored pink) in the form of concussive blasts, use said energy to also create various constructs and use telekinesis to grant herself the power of flight.

The reason I didn't put down her Primary (which was Telepath) and Secondary Mutations (which was Telekine) is because Psionic is essentially a combination of the two.

Yep! Jean is one of the only two members of the X-Men at the start of the series that already has their Secondary Mutation, since just like in the comics, she was an early bloomer.

As for her voice actor, Jean will be voiced once again by her recurring VA, Jennifer Hale.

Now we come to the third member of the X-Men Henry McCoy, codename: The Beast.

This Henry (along with the 90s animated Henry) is a true return to the Beast we know and love.

He's intelligent, well-mannered, and one of the most mature and level-headed members of the X-Men, due to him being one of the oldest members. But he still has the wit, playfulness and wisecracking nature of a teenager.

Henry hails from San Diego, California, is 19-years old, stands at 6'2 and weighs 302 lbs, has fair skin, a broad and muscular build with a posture and figure akin to that of an ape, abnormally large hands and feet, long blue hair that was tied up in a ponytail and blue eyes.

We also have the first X-Men with some difference to their uniform!

Henry's wouldn't wear any gloves or boots and his uniform wouldn't have any sleeves.

As for his backstory: Henry’s Mutation awakened the earliest out of all the X-Men, with him having it since the day he was born. This unfortunately led Henry to have a rather sheltered childhood. But during his teen years, he would start sneaking out and secretly playing as a star quarterback for the football team of the local high school. But once he joined the X-Men, he finally got the chance to experience life outside his home without having to do it in secret.

Henry's Primary Mutation is Primate Atavism, which granted him the pinnacle of human intelligence along with a body akin to that of an ape, with the physicality to go with it. His physical capabilities seem to be an amalgamation of various primates. He has the strength of a gorilla, the speed of a monkey, the dexterity of a chimpanzee, the agility of a gibbon and the flexibility of a orangutan.

His Secondary Mutation is Genetic Atavism, which allows him to switch between different animalistic forms whose capabilities are an amalgamation of the animal family they represent. These forms include a feline form, a canine form, a bovine form, a bear-like form, a boar-like form, a pachyderm-like form, and a rhino-like form. But his primary form and the look he'll be rocking for the entire series once his Secondary Mutation awaken would be a sasquatch-like form.

This form would grant Henry a muscular, sasquatch-like build, blue skin, blue fur all over his body, large clawed hands, large feet, sharp teeth, pointy ears, long messy blue hair and blue eyes.

It would also increase his height from 6'2 to 7'2 and his weight from 302 to 402 lbs.

The form would also keep the abilities of Henry's Primary Mutation, but enhanced to far greater levels.

As for his voice actor, Henry would be voiced by Yuri Lowenthal, who I've always felt would be perfect for a younger version of the character.

No offense to his recurring VA Fred Tatasciore, but I don't think he has quite the range to pull off an convincing voice for young man.

Next we come the fourth member of the X-Men and the second-in-command Ororo Munroe, codename: Storm.

This version is a mismatch between her typical portrayals and her Ultimate iteration. Being one of the oldest members of the team, Ororo is quite mature and surprisingly wise for her age. She also has a street-smart and witty side to her as well. And for someone who spent most of her life on the streets, Ororo has this odd sense of regalness and composure. These traits have made her essentially the second-in-command of the X-Men.

Ororo hails from Cairo, Egypt (but was originally born in Kenya), is 19-years old, stands at 5'11 and weighs 145 lbs, has dark skin, an hourglass figure, white shoulder-length hair in the form of braids, blue eyes, gold lips, a black headband and gold lightning bolt earrings.

As for her backstory, it's largely the same as in the comics, except she never got worshipped as a goddess among a tribal community.

Ororo's Primary Mutation is Meteorological, which grants her the ability to manipulate all forms of weather. From thunderstorms and tornadoes, to blizzards and tsunamis. She can also generate and manipulate electricity, manipulate wind, water and ice/snow, alter the temperature of an entire environment at will and her own body temperature depending on her current environment, use wind currents to fly, has an uncanny sense that allows her to predict weather patterns, and thanks to her time as a thief, is skilled in picking locks and physical combat.

Her Secondary Mutation is Element Phase, which grants her the ability to transform her entire body into either an electrical, wind, water or icy form. This not only makes her nearly invulnerable to damage (as most physical attacks would just phase right through her), but also enhance her physicality in some ways. Her electrical and wind forms would grant her superhuman speed, agility and reflexes, her water form would grant her elasticity, and her ice form would grant her superhuman strength and resilience. She can also create physical constructs out of the elements, even with her own body, the Secondary Mutation grants her much greater control over the weather than before, and she can even turn into an elemental giant by absorbing the elements (like the air and water) around her.

As for her voice actor, she would be voiced by previous recurring VA, Danielle Nicolet.

Now we come to the fifth member of the X-Men Wren Worthington, codename: The Angel.

You may have already noticed that I referred to Angel as Wren Worthington instead of his full name, Warren Worthington III.

Well that's because in this series, Angel is a female rather than a male.

The reason why I choose to do this is because seen a lot of recent fan reimaginings of the X-Men having Angel either being a female or non-binary, and I thought that would an interesting change to do for the character.

Personality-wise: she’s spirited, carefree and often has her head in the clouds (both figuratively and literally).

Wren hails from New York City, is 18-years old, stands at 5'11 and weighs 145 lbs, has fair skin, an hourglass figure with a muscular build, long blonde hair, blue eyes, sky blue lips, black bird earrings and a pair of big white wings on her back.

As for her backstory: Wren was born into a life of wealth and privilege. However, everything change when her Mutation awakened, which brought her into conflict with her father Warwick, the CEO of Worthington Industries and a hater of mutants. He desperately tried to keep the fact that his daughter was a mutant under wraps. This led to Wren having something of a sheltered life during her adolescence. Thankfully, the X-Men came along and Wren was finally able to be free.

Wren's Primary Mutation is Avian Flight, which granted her bird-like wings that allows her to fly. Her body is also naturally adapted for aerial transversal, can fly at superhuman speeds and possesses enhanced lung capacity and eyesight.

Her Secondary Mutation is Healing Light, which grants the ability to manipulate a special kind of light with healing properties. She can also use the light in an offensive manner and thanks to its properties, Wren also has an accelerated healing factor similar to another member of the X-Men.

As for her voice actor, she would be voiced by Grey Griffin, who I felt would be perfect for a female version of Angel....or any character voiced by LOB.

Next we come to the sixth member of the X-Men Kurt Wagner, codename: Nightcrawler.

He's what you would expect from any version of Kurt: kind-hearted, well-mannered, caring, and a devoted Catholic.

Kurt hails from Germany, is 17-years old, stands at 5'7 and weighs 164 lbs, has blue fur-like skin covering his entire body, a slender build, shaggy dark blue hair, full yellow eyes with no visible pupils, pointy elf-like ears, slightly fanged teeth, three fingered/toed hands and feet and a long pointy demon-like tail.

As for his backstory: Kurt always had it rough. Ever since he was born, he was cursed with the appearance of a demon. He was able to make the most of it by becoming the star of a traveling circus, which made people believe his appearance was just part of the act. However, when the public discovered that wasn’t the case….they didn't really take it well to put it lightly. Luckily, the X-Men came in time to save Kurt him from a slow and painful demise.

Kurt's Mutation is Shadow Move, which grants him the ability to teleport anywhere in a limited radius through a cloud of black brimstone. Thanks to his peculiar physiology, he’s also naturally agile and flexible, can become nearly invisible in shadows, has night vision and is a skilled swordsman.

Yep, Kurt is gonna be showing off his swashbuckling skills here! Three-Sword Style BABY!

As for his voice actor, he'll be voiced again by his recurring VA, the previously mentioned LOB, Liam O'Brien.

Now we come to the seventh member of the X-Men Piotr Rasputin, codename: Colossus.

Piotr is want you would expect from any version of the character: a gentle giant with the heart of the artist.

Piotr hails from Russian, is 17-years old, stands at 6'9 (7'4 in steel form) and weighs 260 lbs (495 lbs in steel form), has fair skin, a broad and muscular build, black hair in a flat-top almost buzz-cut like style and blue eyes (full grey when in steel form).

Also, just like Henry, he doesn't have any sleeves on his uniform.

As for his backstory: Piotr used to live a simple life as a farm boy. But after his Mutation was exposed, he and his family found themselves in great danger. But thanks to the X-Men, the Rasputins found a new home here at the Westchester District, where they could remain safe.

Piotr’s Mutation is Organic Steel, which grants him the ability to convert his flesh and skin tissue into a steel-like substance. This steel form grants Piotr incredible strength and resilience, and when matched with his use of hand-to-hand combat, makes him the team’s resident powerhouse.

As for his voice actor, he'll be voiced by his recurring voice actor, Chris Cox.

Next we come to the eighth member of the X-Men Bobby Drake, codename: Iceman.

Bobby is what would expect from any version of the character: playful, fun-loving and a bit of a prankster and show-off.

Bobby hails from Boston, Massachusetts, is 16-years old, stands at 5'4 and weighs 135 lbs, has light skin, a slim build, shaggy brown hair and light blue eyes.

He also has short sleeves and pant-legs on his uniform, wears no gloves or boots and rocks a black durag with a red X-Men symbol at the center (similar to his Ultimate counterpart).

As for his backstory: Bobby lived a fairly normal life with his family. But when his Mutation awakened, fearing that his family would be put in danger because of it, he ran away from home in order to keep them safe. But he eventually found a new home here at the Westchester District.

Bobby’s Mutation is Moisture Freeze, which grants him the ability to convert the moisture around him into ice and snow. Apart from the obvious freezing objects and creating ice and snow, Bobby also possesses a high resistance to low temperatures (so much so that he can coat himself in a flexible armor of ice) and can create various constructs out of ice. These include the likes of shards, shields, pillars, melee weapons and slides (the latter of which he uses to travel quickly across long distances).

As for his voice actor, he would be voiced by Jason Marsden. I've always felt Jason Marsden would make a great Iceman, and he did a good job as the character in X-Men: Destiny. And chances are, he could've become a recurring voice of the character if Marvel hadn't enter their "the X-Men don't matter anymore" phase because they were huffy about the move rights.

Now we come to the ninth (and the last member of the X-Men with a Secondary Mutation) James Howlett, or Logan as he prefers to be called, codename: The Wolverine.

Personality-wise, he's pretty similar to his iterations from Evolution and Wolverine and the X-Men.

Where still keeps his gruff and tough nature, but he's far more responsible, level-headed and laid-back when compared to most of his other iterations.

Logan hails from Canada, stands at 5'2 and weighs 295 lbs, fair skin, a stocky and muscular build, black hair in his trademark devil horn style, a five-o'-clock shadow and blue eyes.

As for his outfit, it's practically the iconic yellow and blue suit. Mask and all!

Backstory-wise: Most of his past is completely shrouded in mystery to the characters and even himself. But they do know that he’s by far the oldest (in spite of his appearance) and most experienced member of the team, having fought in some of the biggest wars of the 20th century. Not too long ago, Logan was once their enemy, constantly trying to take us out. But after finding out that he was being forced to do so in order to save his family, the X-Men decided to help him and out of gratitude, he joined them team.

Logan's Mutation is Healing Beast, Model: Mustelidae. Similar to Jean, it's the combination of Primary and Secondary Mutation. Initially, this granted Logan an accelerated healing factor, which allows him to heal from injuries much faster than the average human, superhuman physicality, enhanced animalistic senses and a pair of razor bone claws that he can eject from his knuckles. But thanks to Weapon X, government genetic research facility project, Logan was made even stronger than before. His healing factor has made so powerful that he’s able to quickly heal from even the most fatal of injuries, his physicality and senses have enhanced to even greater levels and even his claws are now coated in the near-indestructible metal known as Adamantium. A few years later, his Secondary Mutation finally awakened, which granted him the ability to transform into a man/were-wolverine, which enhanced his physicality and animalistic senses to even greater levels. And even more so with the berserker rage the form gave him. Unfortunately, Logan barely has any control over his form, which puts everyone around him in mortal danger, so he rarely ever uses it.

As for his voice actor, you already know who I have in mind.....the one.....the only.....STEVE BLUM!

Now we've made to the tenth and final member of the X-Men Kitty Pryde, codename Shadowcat.

Kitty is what you would expect from any version of the character: an intelligent social butterfly whose also a massive lovable nerd with a passion for computers.

Kitty hails from Chicago, Illinois, is 14-years old, stands at 5'0 and weights 95 lbs, has slightly tanned skin, a slim and slightly petite build, long curly brown hair tied up in a ponytail, hazel eyes, pink lips and multicolored braces.

As for her backstory: Kitty was a near straight-A student and an expert at computers. However, this often made her the target of bullying, which only got worse after her Mutation got exposed in public. But luckily, she found a new school to attend.

Kitty's Mutation is Phase Shift, which grants the ability to make her entire body intangible, along with anything she touches.

As for her voice actor, she would voiced by Jennie Kwan, who you'll known best as Suki from Avatar: The Last Airbender and Chun Lin from Street Fighter 6.

And accompanying her is none other the little dragon himself, Lockheed!

It's actually to think that this series would mark his first major adaptation in anything.

It's weird how despite being the companion of one of the X-Men's most prominent players, they've never had him appear in anything outside of the comics and video games.

It's sort of like the case of Franklin Richards, where despite being the son of the two of the members of the Fantastic Four and a major character in the cast, he's never made an appearance outside of the comics.

Anyway, Lockheed is what you would expect from any animal companion: Playful, mischievous and loyal to the nth degree.

As you expect: He's a purple dragon with full yellow eyes similar to Kurt, and stands at 2'6 and weighs 20 lbs.

Backstory-wise, it's pretty accurate to how it was in the comics.

Being that Lockheed comes from a race of aliens that resemble dragons known as The Flocks, who've been at war with the ravenous alien race The Broods.

Lockheed end up getting stranded on the Broods' homeworld and was being hunted by the aforementioned Broods.

During that time, he would encounter Kitty, who, along with the rest of the X-Men, were brought to Broodworld by force in order to be experimented on.

And it's history ever since.....

As for his voice actor, he would be voiced by everyone's go-to for providing animalistic vocals, Dee Bradley Baker.

Well that's all I have for now.

This is gonna be a multiple-part series.

For this first part, I did want to cover the recurring characters/allies, the villains and even some potential episodes, but I felt that it would make this post a little too long for most people.

So I decided to just dedicate this first part to just introducing the X-Men of this series.

I hoped you all liked this first part and if there's anything you want to know about this version of the X-Men, let me know!

#x men #scott summers #jean grey #henry mccoy #ororo munroe #warren worthington iii #kurt wagner #piotr rasputin #bobby drake #james logan howlett #kitty pryde #lockheed #x-men #marvel #marvel comics #cartoon idea

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mimiruku · 5 months ago

Note

Did your OC bear witness to anyone’s full character arc?

What is the worst thing your OC does in their story?

█ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐎𝐂 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄 ⸻ ( ⚝ )

Thank you so much for sending me some, I wish I know who you are so I can send them back as well. ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა , perhaps next time?

Did your OC bear witness to anyone’s full character arc ? ╰┈➤ TWO CHARACTER ARCS WERE UNLOCKED'. Sasagawa, Kyoko & Yamamoto, Takeshi ! Miruku is well received by the oblivious and emotionally unaware. Not abrasive enough to cause alarm, but just as willing to give them a little push to wherever direction they'd like to be ; he'd proven to be a peculiarly gentle handed individual in spite of his abrupt sort of honesty. With Kyoko, Miruku was able to accompany her through it all, a confidant of sorts, with whispered secrets and telltale confessions of ugly truths, there for her big and small decisions ⸻ It had been a conscious effort to be more kindly towards Kyoko if only because she had been as compassionate and friendly towards him ! Kyoko has a way of making you feel special and included, he'd like to extend the same towards her. ( the mafia had been an especially tough circumstance for her, I don't think Kyoko will truly ever get used to it, that fear will always loom over behind ; but she thinks she'll be able to brave through it all if only to protect her friends and family. If she wants, Miruku would have hold her hand through it all. ) Takeshi had been an unusual situation, where neither were truly aware of each other's influence, somewhere halfway along the road, parallel lines intersects and they'd meet each other when it matters. Admittedly, Takeshi would have been an unwilling participant, transparency & honesty does not come easy, what does he say? Is he okay? Questions to which did not have any answers really, his truths were all uncoordinated mishap, Miruku just happens to be there when he grieves for his father that one time, for when things particularly hurts and he could not quite bring himself to talk to those that did matter - there's no need to bother Tsunayoshi or Momina. But Miruku is there, with a quiet voice and a warm body, he could almost believe when he says everything will be okay.

What is the worst thing your OC does in their story ? ╰┈➤ Miruku, as a ' daily arc ' gag is a prolific storyteller, it's always drawn comical and exaggerated, unbelievable stories stitched grotesquely with something true, always tittering the lines between a hardened liar and someone you can trust with your life ; then, one day it bleeds like an open wound. White lies are lies in the end and you are left with meaningless stories and empty words.

#anonymous #𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒄. ⸻ ◜ character analysis／ miruku◞#* thank you so much for sending this...a yapper continues to yap unfortunately.

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benmehlos · 8 months ago

Text

Valedictus

Next Town Over was supposed to take five years. It took thirteen and change, and it is not an exaggeration to say when I started it I was, figuratively and literally, a different person.

When I wrote Next Town Over I worked part time in a print shop and part time at a small game developer in what was essentially an intern level copywriting role. I was nearing 30; a perfect storm of residual 20s naivete about paying for the future and a third-life crisis about the fact that I was incredibly dissatisfied with where I was at. I didn’t intend to do Next Town Over as a webcomic; I intended it for an independent press because at the time my ideas around the legitimacy of art hinged [incorrectly] on compensation and traditional publication. I drew the first 10ish pages as part of a pitch to shop around to probably five differently small publishers, and had one taker: a brand new small press that wanted to publish it online, own 50% of it, and give me a page rate of $100/page. (A sidebar for context and transparency: these days I work quite a bit with creator-owned small publishers and in the year of our Lord 2024 I’m lucky to command $100/page; NTO less its supplementals would have paid me $41,000+ in page rates before any royalties or sales, and while $41k is a pittance it’s also probably more than I’ve made off the comic in 13 years.) But I was incredibly naive and ridiculously optimistic about its appeal and my ability to find it an audience – and in my partial defense the creative economy was in a drastically different place than it is today – and I decided that if this publisher could make enough in ad revenue, etc., publishing it as a webcomic, I could surely do it myself while retaining full ownership.

Neither of my then-jobs paid very much but at the time I lived with the person I’d marry a year later, whose job was good money and moreover good insurance. In the shelter of that headspace I asked that then-partner what he thought of me quitting the print job to focus on cranking out Next Town Over, as a webcomic, since we were sufficiently set financially to take the risk and anyway look at all the money creatives are making off Google AdSense (put a pin in that).

He agreed to this; I slapped together a Wordpress-with-Comicpress website and scheduled those first 10 pages to drop weekly. That seemed like a more-than-doable rate at which to buffer a bunch of pages (it was; NTO’s buffer was, for awhile, a now unimaginable 20 pages). This first website did indeed have AdSense advertising (and Project Wonderful ads; remember those?), and it did indeed appear encouragingly lucrative in the early months given its newness. The comic got a few enthusiastic write ups. Kris Straub shouted it out on Chainsawsuit. I became internet friends with a bunch of other creators of similarly-scoped comics (almost none of which ultimately survived). I quit my other job, at the game studio, which didn’t seem to be going anywhere anyway. (In the glow of this era I like to think fear I helped inspire friends to attempt their own longform comic projects in web form.)

I no longer remember or particularly care how many months into this enterprise Google killed my AdSense account for “invalid click activity”, a ruling I unsuccessfully attempted to appeal about 4 times over the years – a ruling which eventually affected almost every single creator of those similarly-scoped comics. This not only killed most of the revenue on NTO but also locked me out of earning money via Google in perpetuity; I’d go on to have YouTube videos with 750k views I could never monetize, etc.. Project Wonderful earned, but not like AdSense. Patreon was two years away. Next Town Over was now making me basically nothing. I’d quit my Jobs for Adults because I felt called to make art and it was going about how they warn you it will, and in the absence of any kind of financial validation I was honestly feeling pretty bad about it. Full time comics was supposed to have solved the aimlessness and ennui I’d felt my whole life and it had decisively not.

In 2011 I had a near-fatal health crisis I’ll decline to get into, but mention because the existential scare forced me to reexamine once again what I was doing, what I wanted to do, what was important to me. The answer to all of these seemed to just be “I don’t know”; I had never had a plan for or even a vision of what my future could look like. But at 30 I felt like doors were closing, and doing something was better than doing nothing. So in rapid succession I asked my partner to marry me, we had a child, and I ran a Kickstarter to collect the first four books of Next Town Over into a print edition.

With a new child it just made sense for me to continue staying home and taking care of him and the house with my ultimately flexible independent artist schedule and relatively terrible earning potential – terrible earning potential that would ultimately compound itself over a decade out of the traditional work force.

Having a family and focusing on being a stay-at-home parent didn’t fix the ennui, the sense of estrangement from my own life. It made it worse. I assumed because I wasn’t contributing to our household financially in any kind of significant way, an item of increasing friction and resentment in my marriage. I was taking freelance work here and there, but never consistently enough to replace a real job, and of course I kept puttering away at drawing Next Town Over.

In 2013 Patreon launched, a new paradigm in supporting creators. I was incredibly hopeful I could make enough on this new platform to meaningfully supplement our earnings and, in my thinking, thereby feel validated in what I was doing with my life. At the beginning I shared a lot of sketch and conceptual materials from NTO, a lot of worldbuilding extras and a few process videos. NTO stalwarts were quick to support me on Patreon – many of whom are still supporting me an unthinkable 10 years later, a fact I’m constantly aware of/grateful for – but my monthly support never went gangbusters in the manner promised by the early optimism of the platform (to this day my Patreon is an amount that’s been immensely helpful and allowed me to purchase, among other things, the iPad Pro that transformed my art workflow – I’ll talk about this in a Patron-exclusive, process-focused postmortem that’s yet to come – but I generally make more off a single commission or item of work for hire than I do in a month’s worth of Patreon pledges.)

I continued like this for years, mostly focused on my kid but sidelining comics and occasional work for hire. I thought for awhile maybe independent publishing was my thing, and in addition to a second crowdfunded Next Town Over collection, I curated, edited, and did two stories for a frontier fantasy anthology with some of my friends: Poor Wayfaring Strangers. It funded successfully and my friends’ contributions to it are lovely so I don’t regret making it for an instant, but it proved remarkably sales proof post-Kickstarter.

From about 2015 onwards I was convinced the great misstep in my life was leaving the little intern level job at the game developer, because my prime hobby and favorite storytelling medium was perennially videogames, not comics, and I really was drawn to making those. I started doing more and more hobbyist game development, mostly with a partner. We did a few game jams, embarked on several too-big projects that were never completed. I became about 70% of a 2D technical artist, and started thinking maybe that was my real calling, the thing I’d neglected all this time. I started thinking when NTO wrapped, and my kid was older, that would be what I’d try to focus on before I was dead.

In fall of 2018 I started feeling minor numbness in my fingers, which progressed pretty quickly to worse numbness, radiating up my arms and into my neck and head, eventually becoming tingling and then worsening pain. Working in a desk chair became nearly unbearable and NTO started experiencing the first chronic disruptions to its previously clockwork update schedule in almost 8 years of drawing and posting it. We spent thousands on neurologists and rheumatologists, physical therapists and acupuncturists. I had autoimmune disease symptoms including abnormal bloodwork but I was never formally diagnosed with anything. A sports medicine provider told me I had thoracic outlet syndrome and I muddled through the suggested courses of PT but saw very little improvement. My chronic low grade depression worsened tremendously; I felt like shit and moreover I felt crazy without any concrete diagnosis. I didn’t want to move and not moving made it worse.

I made a bunch of adjustments to how I work, including overhauling my desk geometry and starting to do art more seriously on an iPad Pro (thanks Patrons!), which allowed for more flexibility in work configurations. Over a period of about 2 years the symptoms lessened and I also just got used to a baseline level of low grade neck and back pain; anyone with chronic pain can probably attest that at some point you just sort of acclimate to some background level of it and soldier on but it’s always there like a rock in your shoe, making you irritable, making you exhausted. I’d always felt like that though: irritable, exhausted, an indefinable rock in my shoe. In a way this was nothing new. It was more of the same.

Heading into the dread 2020 I wasn’t in the best place but I was fairly comfortable, had just started a solo Unity game, was looking forward to Next Town Over’s homestretch so I could focus on my true calling. I resumed working on Patron-only comic Cutter and Ironwood, and started thinking about returning to trying to stream. I was doing more lucrative freelance work.

But you know what 2020 was like.

My kid and my spouse came home from school and work. My kid’s schooling was virtual for a year and change. I was banished from the office where my work/dev/streaming setup was as my spouse [needfully] took it over to work from home. Approaching its 10th anniversary, Next Town Over, which I expected to be concluding, was so decisively backburnered the usually 52-updates-a-year comic updated 21 times in 2020. Then 11 times in 2021. As the comic slid, so did my mood. I had been almost 30 when I quit my day jobs to do NTO. Now I was almost 40. I had an 8 year old. And nothing I’d done in the intervening decade had moved the needle on my creeping discontent. If anything it was worse.

And after the years of cloistered introspection COVID forced on everyone, at the beginning of 2022 it went critical.

This could be its own 2500 word memoir, but the cliff notes version is at the start of 2022 I was forced to confront, agonizingly, over the course of a couple traumatic life events, some therapy, and writing the first draft of Every Hole, that The Problem With Me was that I was a trans man. It is now practically a cliché to have understood yourself as trans because of the pandemic, but annoyingly it was the Cinderella slipper that slid with irrefutable ease over the shape of my lifetime of depression and alienation.

The good news is pretty much the moment I stopped pruning off any new growth to fit in the comfortable, unchallenging container of my previous existence, things started to turn around for me mentally. Over the course of 3 months I wrote the 115,000 word rough draft for Every Hole – a comic (a comic I’ll be eternally grateful to for its role in the Figuring Out) after years of certainty I was done with comics the second I put down Next Town Over. Unbottling my identity simultaneously uncorked my energy reservoirs for making shit – and also my functionally unexplored sexuality, and by July I’d successfully pitched an erotica short to Filthy Figments, to start running that October. Throughout 2022 I transitioned my ass off along with working on Every Hole, on Positive Feedback, on freelance art, and yes: on Next Town Over. It didn’t hit 52 updates that year but it did hit 24, the most I’d managed in years, and alongside over 60 pages of comics work elsewhere. 60 is also roughly how many pounds I lost in the process of becoming Ben; I’m now over 40 but I am also in generally the best shape I’ve been in since my 20s. This has had the knock-on effect of diminishing the still-there neck and back pain to a whisper I can almost always ignore – still more fuel for the accelerating engine of my want to make art again.

But it did cost me my partner.

In many ways my marriage ran perfectly parallel to Next Town Over. In a tidy bookend to marrying the year after starting NTO – a comic at its core about a dysfunctional marriage – I’m divorcing in the year following finishing it. My marriage was built on a fault line, its dissolution an inevitability, but it has been slow-motion, and largely amicable.

My future feels precarious in a way I’m not sure it ever has. But I have to admit the precarity is exciting, and unlike the first half of my life where I just sort of drifted on the current and couldn’t picture any kind of future, I can now envision not one but any number of futures for myself. I have been, and am, both Vane, riding off into the wilderness to find and forget, and John, tirelessly chasing his passion at any cost.

When I started Next Town Over I was an aimless, childless single straight girl who could ride a horse. 13 years later I’m a middle-aged queer man and father with chronic pain and a 12 year marriage in my rearview. (I assume I can still ride a horse, but it’s been awhile.) Next Town Over was the backdrop to such an unbelievable amount of change in my life that when I think about the sum of the change that has inevitably happened in the combined lives of all of you, its readers, in that same span of time, it is nothing short of overwhelming.

Thanks for reading, thanks for listening, for commenting, for buying the books or supporting the Patreon, for creating fan works, for retweeting updates or talking in the Discord when the Discord was active because we were all locked up hiding together from a global pandemic. Thanks for coming along.

For many of us this will likely be where we part ways. My gratitude for those of you is undiminished; if you want a final fix of frontier fantasy and you aren’t a Patron, check out Cutter and Ironwood 0; I intended to do more with these characters and I haven’t ruled it out but it’s unlikely to happen any time soon as I am headed elsewhere, at least for awhile. Watch this space (wherever you’re reading this) if you want to know when I crowdfund a print edition of NTO #9-13, which will be the chunkiest NTO book by far.

If you’d like to stay on, follow or subscribe to my Patreon if you aren’t already; I have just started Every Hole Book 2; Patrons of all levels get Book 1 for free or you can catch up standalone buying it off my itch. If NTO was a comic about marriage, Every Hole is a comic about rekindling your power in midlife. I hope to not be working on it for 13 years but if I am I guess that’s fine, too.

I hope you’re looking forward to or already living in one of any number of futures you envisioned for yourself.

Happy trails.

Ben May 2024

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peacerisendove · 1 year ago

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Big Ethel Energy S2 Episode 25 and 26

The best thing this comic has done so far is focus on Veronica and her blooming love life because I love to see it. It's interesting , it gets away from our annoying protagonist, it gives this comic life that doesn't seem insular.

And honestly that's what you want in a comic that is about life! You want to see the surrounding environment and what's going on because when the focus is solely on your protagonist and their problems it does get tedious especially when that protagonist appears self centered, never recognizes their own faults/wrongs, and bad mouths the people around her amongst other things.

For once something that feels extraneous and separate to Ethel and her main character life! And that is a good thing as I've mentioned!

I love something that has absolutely nothing to do with her. Ronnie is out living her life and getting interested in another man. It's very cute and wholesome how she's very into this guy without him even realizing. They're very different and it's super cute. Especially with how she genuinely wants to learn more about being more eco-friendly and not wasting.

I feel like these bit are trying to maker Veronica come off as rude, but I don't see it that way. She feels professional and focused, even though she really wants to get to know more about Gilbert.

Aaaaaand back to Big Ethel Drama we are.

Honestly, Betty's reaction is exaggerated. Someone else has a crush on the guy you like and said guy said no to you before? You deal with that kind of thing.

You don't own Seth.

Ethel is in a relationship and isn't going after Seth. She has a crush, but she's not going to currently act on it.

The only person Betty can be reasonably upset with is either Seth for rejecting (because it always hurts when the guy you like doesn't like you back) or herself. It's unreasonably to be mad at Ethel for something she can't control, but also isn't even a thing. She's making a mountain out of molehill and her response is exaggerated.

Though honestly, lets look at the comic, Betty has had a lot of time to be upset over Seth not liking her back, so her being mad even now is ridiculous in my opinion. She is rejected by Seth in S1 Episode Episode 50. I'm assuming it is around fall because Ethel states she was away on Holiday at the start of Season 2, so I think Betty's had more than a few months to process. The last time we heard about her opinion of Seth was S2 Episode 15, where she said: "I'm not angry at him anymore for not wanting to date me, but I'm still hurting a bit from his rejection".

Above Image: Season 2 Episode 15

SO which is it Betty? Why do you feel so goddamn attached and possessive of a man who has no interest in dating you and who we barely see you interacting with??

And even if it's just the rejection hurting her, that gives you not right or reason to bite your friend's head off for JUST HAVING A CRUSH when she is ALREADY IN A RELATIONSHIP AND PROBABLY WON'T ACT ON IT. Betty is fueling her own fears and anxieties and that's her own fault. It's honestly just ridiculous to watch as well.

This little reaction makes her seem really entitled and childish overall, which are aspects I don't associate with the general idea of Betty's character in the Archie Universe (essentially the concept of Betty over all as someone who's read the old comics).

-sigh- Man, I know this misunderstanding is going to blow up in Ethel's face and I genuinely feel bad for her in this instance.

Episode 26

OKAY NOW I CAN GET INTO THIS.

GIRL NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT YOU. YOU'VE HAD SO LONG TO PROCESS YOUR FEELINGS. This is only your issue no one else's. It's truly so embarrassing and ridiculous to watch this go down.

Why is almost everyone in in this comic is so terrible? It's not even a reasonable sort of terrible you know? Yeah people get angry but it feels like drama for drama's sake.

NO YOU FUCKING DIDN'T DUMBASS. I HAVE THE RECEIPTS. FUCKING SETH POINTED THAT OUT TO YOU, YOU CALLED IT MANSPLAINING AFTER HE REJECTED YOU.

Above: Season 1 Episode 50 (read left to right)

Betty: "I'm sure he knew."

GIRL. Do not put the blame on him. Even if he knew. He also clearly knew it was inappropriate, so he politely ignored or dissuaded you from it. This is not about feelings. It's about what is proper. He didn't want to take advantage of you and so he didn't.

UGH SHE'S BEING BITCHY AND SHALLOW AND POKING AT ETHEL'S RELATIONSHIP, WHICH SHE KNOWS AS HE FRIEND IS A GENERAL SORE POINT, BECAUSE SHE DOESN'T HAVE ONE. How shallow can you get? Even as a friend I wouldn't do that.

I'm rolling my eyes ya'll. The pettiness. The idiocy of her reaction. Please go read a better comic than this.

Why do we keep blaming people who don't deserve it? First it's Jughead now it's Seth. When and where will it end? Also crying? Seriously? How are you not pissed the fuck off? I'm pissed the fuck off and I barely like you as a protagonist. Where are the actual fights in these friendships??? All it is is crying and yelling.

Seth didn't drive a wedge between you two. You continue to not want to take responsibility or accountability, and honestly neither does Betty now that I think about it. That and what drove a wedge between you two is Betty's stupid reaction to something should have dealt with months ago. It's probably been a whole season! It's spring right now I think! Get over it! He doesn't like you!

Goddammit. We almost have a voice of reason. He's right on the first part. It's not her fault, but we really need to stop propping up Ethel on a goddam pedestal. It's infuriating.

She's not right!!!!!!!

OH MY GOD.

YOU CAN SETH'S NAME A THOUSAND TIMES BUT IT'S LITERALLY NOT HIS FAULT. I am begging the author to get an editor or something. I'm begging. This is ridiculous.

(I am so upset that I hit the image limit of 30 I want you guys to see my upset Jughead reactions.)

Me too Seth. Me too. I know she's over correcting and being so FUCKING STUPID.

...

WHAT THE UTTER FUCK!!!!! YOU'RE SO FUCKING STUPID. I HATE YOU. YOU LITERALLY DID THIS WITH JUGHEAD!

GROW THE FUCK UP.

TAKE SOME GODDAMN ACCOUNTABILITY FOR YOUR ACTIONS IN YOU GODDAMN LIFE.

YOU ARE NOT SPECIAL. YOU DO NOT DESERVE TO BE ON A PEDESTAL. YOU DO NOT DESERVE TO BE A FUCKING PROTAGONIST OF A SERIES WITH THIS KIND OF WRITING.

SETH DID ABSOLUTELY NOTHING WRONG. YOU'RE MAD!!!

#BIG ETHEL ENERGY #Dove reads BEE #Dove reads Big ethel energy #-SCREAMS YELLS-#BITE MAIM AAAAAAAAAGH #LONG POST #DEAR GOD #someone TALK TO ME ABOUT THIS BECAUSE OH MY GOD WHY WHY WHY

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blorb-el · 1 year ago

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i was like 'im gonna do weekly lil comics reactions,' did one, and then immediately skipped two weeks. on brand.

this week: world's finest: teen titans 2, last week knight terrors: action 1 and superman: last days of lex luthor 1, and from a While ago superman: lost 5

WFTT 2:

brief moment of 'who the fuck are lilith and gnaark' but then again almost all of these characters are relatively new to me, so shrugged and carried on

other than that one moment i really appreciate how frictionless this book is in terms of new-reader-friendliness. i gather that's the point of the world's finest imprint rn and it's working. waid is a careful craftsman. sneaking in donna's backstory much appreciated

[i'm thinking of issue 1 of the adult titans by tt, which i stuck my nose into. it was frictionless in terms of team dynamics and friction-filled in terms of newcomer friendliness... taylor titans issue 1 felt like i was walking in on a conversation that's been going on 40 years. this book feels like walking into a room and it's throwing a hand around your shoulders and saying hey come meet the gang (and the gang is interesting).]

lupacchino's art feels like such a good pairing for this. soft edges, exaggerated faces.

interesting choice by bellaire on the coloring to make the horror house/dalisay's mindset of closing in on herself and hiding duller than the vibrant normal, light, teens-hanging-out world.

why garth ourple

knight terrors: action 1

laughed out loud at the last page, which is proooooobably not what a horror comic is aiming for

'nightmare, but an ensemble cast' is. meh for me... the other knight terrors have drilled down onto an individual, but this one, if it IS just one person's nightmare i can't tell who. it would make sense for kon to be afraid of being weaponized into an artificial superman but then the rest of the issue isn't from his pov, it'd make sense for otho and osul to be afraid of cyborg superman who they literally just saw but i don't think they'd have any reason to be afraid of kon specifically turning into that, jonno already has multiple! evil dad supermen to be afraid of and they're not this one, and kenan has yet to be given one (1) single speck of narrative significance so id be surprised if it's his nightmare specifically.

i don't like the homogenizing nature of saying 'this is one of the worst fears all four of you can come up with [you all are afraid of the same thing].' i'd rather have a solo or duo focus on someone who hasn't gotten narrative attention in action or elsewhere. i love the gang but i think this would have been much stronger if it'd been, lets say, just kenan and the twins facing down a cyborg superman telling them they're outsiders/not useful/whatever

some nice touches in the art (otho and osul have been consistently sleeping curled up next to each other on the floor which is a little🥺) but i loooved the coloring. another romulo fajardo jr w, i've loved his work since flashpoint beyond.

meanwhile the power girl story has the opposite problem where it's one character but facing ten different fears. it was kitchen sink-y :(

superman: lost 5

clark continues to be Very Sad. this is like catnip to me. i will read 9000 pages of clark being Very Sad no problem. i love love love the physicality of his issues remembering to breathe and filter his hearing

very funny cover bait and switch

i continue to eat the art in this series it's. so good. the spacescapes are gorgeous the buildings are gorgeous the expressions are wonderful and the colors are perfect. thank you pagulayan thank you cox

also i love it when i am writing a fic where clark gets lasso of truth therapy'd and then i pick up a comic and the exact same thing happens. wmm is giving a thumbs up from the grave about the Power of Therapy Bondage

lois at the end of her rope. frustrated and snippy and inventive and tender all at once. they didn't need to write her sniping at diana's costume but i do like her being overly mad at little things (because she's powerless about the Big Thing)

yandere gl hope is fun. the little detail about the contrectatio destroying her planet sets her story up so well

love it when clark is immune to Sexey Lady Temptress. (hope i dont eat my words next issue but for now) i slide this issue into my demisexual clark folder. maybe they wanted me to believe that he was thinking about it but he literally went 😑💨. ma'am this house is my exact recreation of my childhood home as a way to deal with my trauma and helplessness and i know i put a shower curtain in here so please use it instead of dribbling water on the floor in your seduction attempt

superman: last days of lex luthor 1

you guys i made a noise approximating a lawnmower at the mention of rondors. and the drygur moliom. i made noises out Loud. there might have been a lets fucking goooooo at clark getting pulled outta there at ten dendaro. i am the target audience for this trivia shit.

its been a while since i've read anything with lex fully unleashed in Horrible Evil Bastard Mode and. enjoying it fully. corporate lex is fine whatever i guess but only if they let him off his leash every once in a while to do horrible mad science mass killings to further his little plots

lex's vibes being so rancid that the entirety of the phantom zone was like OUT YOU GO was so fucking funny

some of the smallville sections felt a leeeeeeeettle bit like recap but that's only because i have a dual bachelors degree in Bronze Age Dweebery and Birthright Enjoying so i'm already fully on board with whatever waid wants to do

the only really jarring section to me was the hero worship in kandor. it makes sense to set up the dichotomy between clark and lex and the 'public' attitudes toward them and also makes perfect, economical sense as to why a superman who is more superman than clark would not spend more time in there...it's a good choice for the storytelling... but. i really love kandor's bizarre silver/bronze age culture as a reflection of kryptonian culture, even though it's distorted by the citywide trauma of being in a bottle for years and years, and part of that is a fascinating dual trust and resentment many kandorians feel for superman, who is both their protector and the guy who has made almost no progress getting them out. (until he does). ah well. this comic is not about kandor

'lex freaking luthor' let him say fuck. he killed like 10 people at absolute minimum i think he should say lex fucking luthor. its legal