#like Kevin has to call a cat the same thing he called his abuser

[zipperuser103]

That Andrew and Neil named one of their cats “King”, means so much more now that we can see how often Riko was referred to by it in TSC…

[swampthingking]

The First Crack on the Glass

Jean is welcomed to SCU with open arms, and he has no idea how to feel about it.

CW: suicidal thoughts, mentions of past SA, mentions of past abuse, this is Jean Moreau we’re talking about here

Jean Moreau had been a ghost for five months.

He had been a ghost his entire life, really. A shadow. A pawn. Property.

Never allowed to speak, never allowed to have an opinion. Only allowed to sit there, Jean. Take it.

But this was different. This was all consuming, this was internal.

Who was Jean without the Ravens? Without him?

His sense of self was nonexistent. It was beaten and fucked and broken out of him years ago.

But now, he reminded himself with a breath so deep that his chest cramped, he was out. He was free.

As free as he could be, with his abuse still following him. His violence hovering above Jean’s head like a guillotine. Jean had spent his life on his back, strapped beneath the blade, anticipating the next time it dropped. Forced to watch it fall.

“Jean?”

Her voice was sweet. Kind.

Abby had taken care of him, despite his best efforts to tell her to fuck off, let me be. Let me die. Let the infection burn me from the inside. Let it kill me.

The sharp objects and medications and anything resembling a rope were hidden from him after that.

“David’s gonna take you to the airport, okay?”

She never opened the door without his permission. She never snuck into his room. She never questioned when he woke up dry heaving.

Jean opened the door. His bag was already slung over a shoulder. The rest of his things were at the Nest. All of his belongings, not that they were sentimental. But his books. Sketchbooks. His journals. The only life he’d ever had was there.

And he hadn’t had a choice in being transferred over to USC. Another business transaction. Another trade. Another object.

Abby put a hand to his cheek before he could spiral. She was good at that; noticing when he looked miserable. He hated how much he craved touch, despite how much he had experienced under heavy hands. Hated how much he wanted to relax into it, despite his immediate tension. His relationship with touch was nuanced and troublesome, and every day was a battle where he shooed it away, but it always came slinking back like a stray cat you made the mistake of feeding once.

He ate out of Abby’s hand anyways.

“You’re going to be okay,” she whispers. Her eyes are so kind. Jean can admit, at least to himself, that he’s softened his edges a bit for her. This woman, this small but mighty woman, who has nurtured him despite his rage and ugliness; she hadn’t given up.

Jean grunts, almost a laugh, but not really. He didn’t have the energy to pretend. He was too busy suppressing how much he was going to miss her.

David Wymack doesn’t speak much, but when he does, it’s hesitant, at least with him. Jean can’t say the same for the rest of Wymack’s team. For Kevin, to whom he barks, “Get the fuck out of my face. And put your seatbelt on.”

Kevin and Renee are in the back of the car. One of them had moved from the passenger’s seat to the back, and Jean knew that because the passenger seat was still warm when he sat down.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Renee smiled when she saw him, said hello with her lilting voice, and Kevin stared at him. Kevin had been staying at Abby’s, unfortunately. Jean didn’t know where the rest of them were. Kevin had told him they usually stayed at Abby’s over the summer, but they were staying at another place because Jean was there. Jean didn’t care.

He did care, at first, when Kevin told him that. Jean had sprung from the bed and started to pack as soon as the words left Kevin’s mouth. The thought of sharing a space with the people who had stolen him from his home, now infiltrating the space that was starting to feel safe made him feel physically ill. Kevin stopped him from packing, informing him that they were staying somewhere called Columbia.

They settled into silence. Wymack was playing whatever popular radio station was on. Jean didn’t care what happened.

On the way to the airport, Jean wondered about the probability of another car hitting them in order for only Jean to be killed. If it was possible for another car to slam into only the passenger side, so he would be the only one affected. He thought about it the whole way there. Replayed it on a loop. It was comforting.

The airport wasn’t very busy, and Jean only stuck around to say thank you before he turned his back on Wymack, Renee, and Kevin.

He didn’t have a checked bag, so he went through security. It was fine. He had a bottle of water in his bag that he’d forgotten about, and he had to be patted down. That was not so fine, but Jean allowed his eyes to glaze over. Allowed himself to float until the TSA agent cleared him.

They disposed of the water bottle.

He put his shoes back on.

He sat at the gate.

He boarded the plane. Took the window seat.

He watched the clouds. Wondered if the plane would crash. Wondered if it would be painful.

He fell asleep. Woke up nauseous, with the taste of someone’s fingers in his mouth. Down his throat.

The woman in the middle seat was asleep on her husband’s shoulder.

Just a dream.

Even in his sleep, he can’t have any peace.

-

Jean waited outside in the California air. It was hot. He was tired. He had slept for a few hours, but he still felt like his body would give out any minute.

“Hey, Jean!”

Jeremy Knox was in front of him, waving a hand in his face. Jean hadn’t seen or heard him approach, which seems preposterous because Jeremy Knox is one of the most obnoxious individuals he’d ever seen. He’d only played against him and watched him on TV. He had never had an actual conversation with him, but that was enough of an impression.

His exuberance was disturbing. His zest for life, immature. His golden hair, unkempt.

“You don’t have a checked bag?”

Jean shook his head.

Jeremy said, “That’s alright,” with that smile. It showed so many teeth. It was genuine. Jean hated it.

Jean stood, and Jeremy’s head tipped back to follow as Jean raised himself to his full height, almost a foot taller than Jeremy.

“Wow, forgot how tall you were. Wow. Very tall. You ready?” Jeremy turned and led them to his car. Jean followed obediently. He reminded himself that Riko is dead. He doesn’t have to obey anyone. But he did it anyway. It was ingrained into him.

“Okay, let’s go. Are you hungry? You look like you’re about to fall asleep. The flight was, what, seven hours? You’re probably starving.”

He wasn’t. He could barely eat. Could barely keep it down. Jean didn’t answer, because he had an inkling that Jeremy wasn’t done.

“We have food in the dorm. Not much, but we can get you something on the way back. Do you want a coffee or anything?”

“We?” Jean said.

Jeremy looked perplexed. “Yeah. We. We’re roommates.”

Jean distracted himself by getting into the car, only to avoid Jeremy’s eyes for a moment. Jean hadn’t expected to live privately, of course, but he hadn’t expected his roommate to be Jeremy Knox either.

Somewhere deep in his subconscious, he hears Kevin’s voice telling him about it. How Kevin had specifically asked Jeremy to room with Jean, and Jeremy agreed for some reason.

Jean must have forgotten. Or ignored Kevin. Or not have cared enough to retain it.

“No one told you?”

“Forgot,” Jean mumbled, looking out the window. He’d only said a few words today, and he was exhausted.

“That’s okay! I forget stuff all the time. I think I have ADHD.”

Jean didn’t answer. Jeremy didn’t stop talking.

-

There was a banner. And balloons. And flowers on the coffee table. A smaller vase of flowers on the counter. And a cake.

“Bienvenue, Jean!” the banner read.

“SCU Trojans #29” the cake read.

He could see Jeremy’s smile in his periphery. Wide as always, but a little hesitant. A bit shy.

Jean scanned the room. Maybe this was there for Jeremy. The other Trojans must have set this up for him. Maybe Jean was standing here dumbfounded at something that was absolutely not meant for him.

But it was. The cake had Jean’s number on it. The banner said his name.

And Jeremy was vibrating. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and gave Jean a chance to say something.

Jean didn’t know what to say. He stood near the door, strangling the straps of his duffle.

Riko would have popped him in the back of the head by now. Riko would have made a nasty comment about being ungrateful. Riko would have made him beg for forgiveness, and tell him all the things he was thankful for, because Riko is the one who allowed him nice things. “Nice” things. Like being allowed to live.

But Riko was dead. No matter how much Jean lived in fear that he’s actually alive somewhere, in hiding. That he’s going to come back into Jean’s life the second he began to live. But for now at least, he’s dead.

Jeremy looks like he wants to scream.

“I’m so sorry if it’s too much!” He finally breaks, face red either with embarrassment or from repressing his excitement. “I just wanted you to feel special. We’re all really excited for you to be here, Jean. I didn’t know what kind of cake you liked. Or even if you like cake. Shit,” Jeremy blanched. “Do you like cake?”

Jean blinked. Jeremy was staring up at him, assessing him like he could find the answer to do you like cake? written across his face. He must not have found it, because his next thoughts were spewing from his mouth before Jean could even process the question.

“Okay, well it’s here if you like it. It’s half vanilla and half chocolate, because I wasn’t sure what kind you liked.” Jeremy walked over to the small vase of flowers on the kitchen counter, fluffing them as he spoke. “And I tried not to get any flowers that people have allergies to. So there’s no lilies or roses or anything. I didn’t… I didn’t know if you were allergic to anything. Oh God,” he pulled back. “There are sunflowers though. Are people allergic to sunfl— Shit.”

Jeremy put his head in his hands, like the sunflowers are going to take years off of his life. “This is going horribly. I should have checked. Do you feel stuffy or anything?”

Jeremy then crossed the floor, determinately invading Jean’s personal space. Before Jean could flinch, Jeremy put the back of his hand on Jean’s forehead to assess if he was feverish, as if that’s how anaphylactic shock works.

“I’m…” Jean started, taking a step back, away from Jean’s hand. He ended up against the door.

He wasn’t sure what he was. He wasn’t sure what to say. The thought of Jeremy and the Trojans organizing this was jarring. The thought of Jeremy stressing about if Jean liked cake, and what flavors he might like. The banners. The flower arrangements, two of them. The balloons that yelled Welcome!

It all made Jean feel like he couldn’t breathe. It cracked the apathy beaten into him; the apathy he clung to to survive. This display was a pebble on a windshield, but it woke Jean up a bit. Chipped the glass.

To his absolute horror, his complete humiliation— Jean will blame this on the long trip and the harrowing flight and the human interaction for years— his throat seized. His vision blurred.

Jeremy had stepped back, waiting, looking up at Jean with a palm over either of his own cheeks.

“It’s really…” Jean didn’t have the words. So he nodded, unceremoniously. He felt like he should’ve said more. He couldn’t.

But it must have been enough. Jeremy’s grin could have lit heaven.

[silvereternitywrites]

Disaster Ice Cream

Prompt: Your roommate is a hulking demon, a former warlord with millennia of combat experience, and the picture of menace and brutality. You just caught them halfway through a gallon-sized bucket of your favorite ice cream, frozen like a deer in headlights.

Prompt Source: user/quazerflame ; subreddit “Writing Prompts”

Grath, Demon Lord of the 649th battalion of Hell's Army, did not touch my personal things without permission as a general rule. It was one of those demon things, he couldn't.

The Disaster Ice Cream was an exception and like every roomate I had ever had before him, I had explained exactly what circumstances it was for and that, like a fire axe, in those circumstances it was considered communal property.

I considered for a moment.

"So... are you... okay first I'm trying to help not overstep boundaries so please take it in that spirit, this is my first time with a non-human emotional catastrophe and I can't read your body language too well. Is this a 'I need to process in peace with tissues and ice cream in private' or is this a 'two bowls and vent' kind of issue?"

Slowly, almost like he expected me to be mad at him or something, he dipped one claw in for another scoop, wide-eyed as a cat.

"I... do not know. But eating Disaster Ice Cream unobserved has not helped the situation; perhaps a listening ear or advice might be better."

Oh, his real voice was out, he hated doing that since it was so deep it tended to vibrate everything in the house. It was also warbling all over the place, the way if he was human I would call 'about to cry' or 'devastated', so I elected not to mention it.

"Two bowls it is, then. You didn't use a scrubber under your claws before you tucked in, did you?"

He looked at me funny.

"Emotional Disaster or not, you have been quite informative about the many ways germs get humans sick. I hoped to not need the entire gallon; I scrubbed my claws and skin accordingly so as not to contaminate the bucket."

"Nice, I appreciate your thoughtfulness," I said, and watched his ears lift slightly from their droop. "Most humans, by the time they need the Disaster Ice cream, can't think that far ahead. Me included at times."

He blinked, and his pupils dilated a little from the stressed pinpoints.

"So this is why venting can help. You can been where I sit with the Disaster Ice Cream."

"Not always exactly the same, but I have been in a point of emotional devastation. So, what caused this?"

"Human Kevin, at work," and now his ears were drooping again and I started stabbing the remaining half of the gallon with my spoon to get some in my bowl.

"Is Human Kevin that jerk supervisor who tried to cancel your time off request from literally last year until you got his boss involved?"

"Yes, that Kevin," he sighed gustily, and the bucket in his lap froze over anew. Frostbreath- he really felt like shit if his magic was slipping out unnoticed.

"He passed you over for that promotion, didn't he," I growled.

"How did you know?"

"People like that," I accidentally bit my spoon so my snarl was louder than intended, "are petty, vengeful, and just plain MEAN. You going over his head kept the company out of legal trouble for your leave, but it made him look bad, and in his tiny worldview was defiance of his authority."

"Human Kevin thinks he has real authority? When I have served under Hell's greatest commanders? When I have seen the Dragonsbane on the field of war? He thinks to command me?"

His voice edged high in disbelief- human Kevin was so insignificant that he didn't even warrant anger at his foolishness. Grath mostly seemed bewildered.

"Shitty managers like to power-trip by abusing what little power they have over people that rank lower than them in any way, especially in any official capacity like a job. They have no real power and never will- they don't have the willpower to make it honestly by becoming like, a soldier or general or something, so they look for people to take advantage of. Human Kevin is one of those. He desperately wants power and authority but isn't willing to do any of what it takes to earn or accumulate it. So he can 'punish' you for 'defying' him by not giving you the promotion YOU earned, but he can't stop you from transferring to a position equal to or higher than his in another department. He thinks he can be a tyrant, but he's really just a little fish in a big pond swimming with tiny fish to make himself look bigger."

Aw, my ice cream was gone.

"Ah. He is an unruly recruit who believes he is fast-tracking to officer, when he is actually fast-tracking to black board," Grath said knowingly as he emptied the last of the gallon. "Now I no longer feel bad about him calling me a poor worker, selfish, lazy, or undedicated. These are all the things HE is and wishes others to believe are not him. I know what to do with people like him. This has helped immensely. I appreciate your Disaster Ice Cream much more now, Friend."

I grinned.

"Good! Cuz you finished it, which means you get to make that cold-ass trip to get a new one!" I slapped a twenty in his hand and, laughing, saw him out the door.

Then I put in a call...

"So Human Kevin is about to get his shit wrecked. Tomorrow when G gets in to work. Let everyone know- I want SOMEONE in the office recording the fireworks. I promised his first boss if we ever made sure Kevin got what's coming to him I'd make sure he got a copy on tape."

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

I’m Ready

Summary: “I can’t...I can’t take my forever if you’re not in it.” 

Picks up right where the show left off. Not technically a fix-it, as I didn’t change anything, but I promise it gets better. 

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of (canon) child abuse and neglect, mentions of past trauma, working through trauma, denial, bit of pining (but, like, in a denial sort of way), some fluff, some angst (but not as much as there is fluff)

Author’s Note: So many thanks to @there-must-be-a-lock​ for endless suggestions, fixes, and beautiful images (header AND dividers!!!). Thanks to all my friends for cheering me on, especially @thoughtslikeaminefield​ ; I probably wouldn’t have kept going with the story without you.

This is my first Destiel story and my first time posting in a while. Please be kind.

Word Count: 7704

In case you missed it: ItMightHaveBeenintentional’s Masterlist

Dean isn’t sure how long he’s been in heaven, at least not by heaven’s timeframe. Probably years, maybe even a couple of decades. He doesn’t age in heaven, and time works differently, running fast and stretching slow. 

For Dean, heaven is a chance to rest, catch up with his massive found family, and just breathe for the first time since he was a kid. No worrying about Sam, no waiting for the next monster to pop out, no prepping for the next apocalypse.

Nothing like heaven to give a guy time to kick his boots off and just relax. 

Unfortunately, relaxing has never come easy to Dean. Sure, he can go through the motions (binge watching horror movies, binge drinking, hell, just bingeing in general), but relaxing is an entirely different matter.

Relaxing means letting his guard down. It means giving up his hypervigilance. It means sleeping hard and staying asleep until he wakes naturally and unassisted by attackers. It means spending long moments reminding himself the monster at the end of the book is really gone.

Sam is safe. Everyone he’s ever loved is safe and close, where he can reach them.

Almost everyone. 

...

Jake Walker is born on the ninth of July at twenty-one seconds past 9:14 AM. His mother Samantha is exhausted after a two-weeks-early delivery, but both she and the baby are strong and steady. Her wife didn’t faint, none of the medical team ever sounded the least worried, and she heard her son’s first shocked wail as he came into the world. Exhausted, but definitely good.

His mom Betty, on the other hand, is an absolute wreck. She’s been anxious the entire pregnancy, despite good news from the doctor at every visit, and she is terrified that the unexpected early arrival of their son means her worst fears are just beginning. 

Betty takes slow, calming breaths, focusing on not clamping down too hard on Sam’s hand. She has to stay strong, calm, for her new family. She has to keep her head on straight, in case—in case —

“Your son is absolutely fine, seems he just had a real particular time he wanted to arrive. Here he is.”

Betty opens her eyes to find a delivery nurse beaming at her, proffering a small, swaddled bundle.

“Never seen such a calm baby. Here, he’s been waiting for you.” 

Betty looks down into the startlingly clear, mossy green eyes gazing up at her from the squashed, serene little face, and she feels something click into place in the middle of her chest. Samantha leans her head back against her pillow, letting out a long slow breath as she smiles, and Betty’s pulse slowly finds its way back to something like normal.

“We’ve been waiting for you, too, big guy.”

...

Trauma doesn’t heal in a day, not even in heaven. All the shit Dean remembers — all the shit he tried to forget — everything he ever managed to suppress — drives him from his bed at night, leaving him sleepless on his front porch, staring blankly into the night, or tinkering on Baby in the garage, digging into the perfect engine, determined to distract himself from his spiraling thoughts. 

Dean has never been an idiot, no matter how many times he played the fool in life. The people he and Sam couldn’t save, the people he let down, none of those deaths are on him. Dean isn’t responsible for the pain and suffering, but he’s haunted by it all the same. 

The problem is, haunts don’t go away on their own. Every hunter knows that. 

It’s not that he wants forgiveness; how can he be forgiven for something he isn’t responsible for? He needs to see those people, though, see that they’re okay and at peace. He has to make sure everyone is where they should be, safe and at least content. And even if he ultimately isn’t their killer, didn’t want their deaths, would have done anything to prevent them, he still needs them to know...to know everything. 

He needs absolution.

And if the person who needs to hear those things the most is MIA, well, they’ve got a history of not saying a lot of things face to face. There’s always prayer, right? 

Dean starts by visiting a couple of people he hadn’t been able to save along the way, feeling strangely like someone following a twelve step program. Objectively, (ie, according to the people he talks to), he’s got nothing to apologize for. He did his best; he made tough decisions in situations forced upon him. They don’t blame him in the least, and most are truly and obviously thankful for his intervention.

Their words don’t make much of a dent in the mountain of guilt Dean carries on his shoulders, but it’s a start. 

Once or twice, Dean finds himself looking up at the sky, so far from empty, opening his mouth to call out — an action so common on earth it nearly became reflex —but he stops himself both times. He’s not ready for that conversation.

But he needs to talk to someone closer to him, a deeper connection than the monster victims he’s been visiting. 

He’s restless, needs to move a little, needs to talk to…

Someone. He needs to talk to someone. But he can’t. Hell, he can’t even say the name. 

Pacing the garage turns to a wandering ramble down the road, past Sam and his family’s house, past Mom and Dad’s house (there’s a conversation or fifty that he’s not ready for), until he finds himself in front of what can only be described as a hobbit hole. He shakes his head, not for the first time, the corner of his mouth tilted up as he knocks on the circular front door. 

He’s greeted by bright red hair, a surprisingly crushing hug, and one of the brightest smiles Dean has ever seen.

“Hey, Charlie. Can we, uh...You up for a walk? I was hopin we could talk for a while.”

...

Jake grows quickly and steadily, always near the top of all his growth charts but never alarmingly so. He’s bright, quick to anger and quick to laugh, and fiercely loving. He is both his mothers’ boy, always up for a cuddle or a wrestle, and he loves to build block towers and demolish them with equal abandon. 

He makes his displeasure with vegetables known early on. On this particular morning, he introduces his strained peas to the kitchen wall with surprising velocity. Betty knows better than to encourage this attitude, so she hides her smile behind calm, controlled admonition as she offers another spoonful. 

Jake looks her straight in the eyes, his smile dazzling and laughter bright, and she knows she hasn’t fooled him one bit. She sighs and lets her own smile match his. He won her over the day he was born; there’s not much point trying to fight it now.

“Come on, babe, eat your peas and we’ll see about some of those stewed apples left over from Mommy’s pie filling. Deal?”

She scrunches her nose and wiggles her eyebrows. Jake’s little eyes widen at her expression, and he tries to imitate it before dissolving into giggles. Betty takes the opportunity to poke a spoonful of peas into his open mouth. 

She’s not spent much time around kids before this, but Betty swears she’s never seen a baby look so resigned and exasperated in real life. But she’s played her trump card. He’s too young for the crust, but a couple of spoonfuls of smashed up fruit (apple is his favorite), and Jake is guaranteed to eat just about anything she presents.

“Pie?” she asks.

Jake smiles and opens his mouth wider.

...

“SURPRISE!!!”

The last time he was shocked this badly, Sam didn’t let him forget that fucking cat for years. Or ever, really. Seems like everyone he ever knew is stuffed into his living room, barely leaving room for the balloon bouquets and a massive… That’s not a cake, it’s…

That’s the most beautiful apple pie Dean has ever seen in his entire life. 

Dean is engulfed by arms, hugging and patting and slapping his back (was that a pinch on his ass?), everyone eager to get their turn with him, wishing him a happy birthday, saying they can’t wait until he opens his presents, it’s so good to see him, he’s looking so rested!

He manages to extract himself from the wellwishers, citing parental obligations, and finally makes his way over to Mary, smiling warmly and offering him a knife and a plate. His eyes flick anxious from his mom to the golden brown circle of perfection before him, but he can’t bring himself to ask. Mary’s smile widens.

“I didn’t lay a hand on it except to take it out of the box. Happy Birthday, Dean.”

Six plates of pie later, Dean reclines on his couch, letting the relaxed atmosphere of the party sink into his bones. The excitement and crowd of early have begun to wind down, leaving a double handful of family, both blood and found, all telling the most embarrassing, terrible Dean stories they can think of.

It’s possible Dean’s never laughed this hard in his entire life.

He heaves a deep sigh of contentment and props his feet ponderously on the coffee table, draping an arm across the back of the couch and surveying the room. 

Donna, one of the apparent party conspirators, tosses him a sparkling grin over her shoulder before turning back to a rather animated conversation with Charlie about the length of Dean’s wig at the LARPing battle. Sam and Kevin are recounting Dean’s worst cooking disasters to Garth’s wife, and Bobby is entertaining Mary with Dean’s disastrous attempt to flirt with the pizza delivery girl who delivered to Bobby’s house most weekends when Sam and Dean would stay with him. 

If Dean had to describe one perfect day, this would be just about it, down to the flakiness of the pie crust and the amazing collection of horror movies and original vinyls he’s been gifted. Almost every single person he could possibly want present is there, and since he isn’t dwelling on absence today, Dean decides to push his wandering thoughts out of his head and just soak it all in.

Every muscle in his body hums contentedly, and Dean feels strangely warm and peaceful, but excited, all at once. It’s weird, just sitting here and enjoying the moment, not worrying about the next minute or hour or day or even year. He’s full of pie, he’s got great tunes to look forward to, and there’s nothing to worry about. 

He’s happy.

Naturally, that’s when the panic sets in. This won’t last; it never does. Happiness can’t last. He learned that a long time ago. 

Sure, it’s heaven, but he doesn’t deserve to be here, so something is going to spoil it for him, for everyone. Probably Dean himself, he thinks as his eyes dart from his mom to his dad. Dean always seems to find a way to fuck things up, couldn’t take care of Sam, couldn’t keep himself alive, couldn’t even keep the Empty from—

“Hey, birthday boy.” Jody’s voice somehow reaches Dean through his darkening thoughts, and he comes back to himself in stages, focusing on the warmth of her hands on his shoulders. She stands behind the couch, leaning down to squeeze his shoulders. “Wanna get some air?”

He nods blindly and climbs numbly to his feet. Jody guides him efficiently out the door and points Dean in an arbitrary direction. They walk for what could be moments or hours as Dean plows through the morass in his mind. 

“I get it,” Jody finally says. 

Dean glances sharply at her. 

“I still have random panic attacks sometimes, wondering if Alex is safe at the hospital, if this is going to be the hunt that gets Claire.” Her eyes are fixed on some point in the distance, and he gets the feeling she’s deliberately not meeting his eyes. “I check on Owen every thirty minutes on my bad nights, and I have to lay hands and eyes on Sean to convince myself he’s really there before I can calm down. It always takes me a minute or sixty to make myself remember where we are, where everyone is, and that there isn’t some big or even small bad waiting around the corner or under the bed.”

Dean stuffs his hands in his pockets, stuffing down his automatic reassurances. The first half of his life was spent avoiding conversations like this, and it took him a long time to unlearn the knee-jerk reaction to brush off people’s concerns with some variation of “Everything’s fine.”

Jody, with an awareness born of decades of hunting and parenthood, senses his discomfort. She slows her steps and catches Dean’s elbow, turning him gently to face her.

“That feeling in your gut when the happiness comes, the panic, that knowledge deep, deep down that everything good is bound to turn to shit.” Jody reaches out and wipes a trickle of moisture from Dean’s face.

It’s not raining, he thinks, frowning. Where the hell did that come from?

“You're going to unlearn it. You’re the toughest bastard I’ve ever met, Dean, and you've been through literal hell. If anyone has earned their happiness up here, it’s you. You’re allowed to be happy, and someday you’ll know it.”

Dean would love to reply right now, to contradict Jody. He’d love to remind her of all the bad calls he made, of all the torturing he did in hell, of all the lies he told... 

But this knot in his throat is choking him. And still Jody persists.

“I know how goddamned stubborn you are, but you’re not stupid either. We have nothing to forgive you for. Maybe once you’ve talked to everyone on your list, you’ll see that, too. But in the meantime, take a deep breath, give me a hug, and at least say in your head that you’re allowed to enjoy yourself at your own damned birthday party, even if you can’t admit it out loud.”

And if the damp patch on Jody’s shoulder bothers her as they stroll back to Dean’s house to grab a couple of beers, at least she’s tactful enough to not mention it.

...

Jake takes care of his family. He’s a fairly serious, empathetic toddler, quick to kiss other’s ouchies. After receiving his first Elmo bandage, Jake insists on bandaging his stuffed puppy’s tail, his tyrannosaurus rex’s left eye (“He fight with stegosaurus,” Jake solemnly informs Samantha as he presses the adhesive strip in place), and then an old, almost-healed shaving cut on Betty’s left knee. 

“Mama better now?” Jake asks, somehow managing to sound strictly professional and absurdly adorable at the same time. He looks up to Betty for approval, and she wonders how she manages to let him touch the ground at all with how much she just wants to hold him all day long. 

“Mama so much better now,” she informs him, careful to stay serious. He rewards her with the golden smile that is the highlight of her days before rushing off to find someone else he can fix up. 

Both Betty and Samantha marvel in his quickness to share his snacks. They never refuse an offered Cheerio from him, no matter how damp or sticky (though a few of those disappear quickly when Jake’s attention wanders). 

The discussion over a first pet is fairly quick and decisive. Everyone agrees the pet must be something fluffy that can be cuddled. Betty vetoes anything smaller than a cantaloupe, citing her clumsiness and tendency to step on things that should never be trod upon. Jake vetoes cats, saying he just doesn’t trust them, and Mommy and Mama share one of their silent conversations before Samantha speaks up.

“A puppy it is, then, Jakey. Let’s go look up some good breeds.”

Their first pet is a rescue named Garth, at Jake’s adamant insistence, though they're still not sure where he learned that name in the first place. Garth is clumsy, awkward, easy-going, and the most spoiled and cared for pet in the neighborhood. 

Jake’s little sister Tabitha comes along shortly before his fourth birthday, and he takes to big brotherhood with an authority and self-assurance that delights every stranger the family meets. When she eventually starts walking, Jake is right by her side, guiding each one of her toddling little steps while a beaming Mommy and Mama follow close behind.

No one is even a little surprised when Tabby’s first whole word is “Hake.” She masters the letter j eventually, but continues to refer to his big brother by the name she gave him for most of the rest of their lives. Jake doesn’t even pretend to be annoyed.

“It was just a matter of time,” Samantha says one night, as she and Betty are getting ready for bed one night not long after Tabby has given Jake his new moniker. “You know what I mean?”

Betty, who has known exactly what Sam means since the day she literally tripped over her future wife at university, smiles and turns down the covers on her side of the bed. 

“That’s Jake,” she says. They’ve spent hours, discussing their son’s odd, charming quirks long into the night, offering up phrases like “old soul” and “wise,” and eventually realized nothing they said could ever completely encompass the loving little person they somehow managed to bring into the world.

“That’s Jake,” Sam agrees, and turns her version of Jake’s golden smile on her wife. Mischief sparkles in her eyes, and Betty wonders how she ended up with three people in her life that she absolutely cannot win against. 

“Ready to get sweaty, Betty?”

Betty groans but can’t hold back her grin. “You are the absolute worst, and that is exactly why I love you.”

…

Sam manages to shock Dean when he insists on a big family Christmas. His extra years on earth apparently helped the younger Winchester warm to the idea of holidays, finally getting to enjoy them with his son as he never did during his own childhood. 

Sam doesn’t have to try very hard to talk everyone into celebrating. Things have been calm and serene, more than a little on the uneventful side, and Dean figures it will add some variety to his afterlife. Something to plan, something to look forward to that won’t be crashed by murderous Elder Gods or various other supernatural entities. 

Probably. 

Dean secretly loves that feeling of finding the perfect present for someone, something he was never really in a position to do back on earth. He takes a deep breath, proactively reminding himself that this is okay, this is allowed, this is good, that everything is not only okay but actually kind of great, really.

He can be happy. He can. He can do this. 

 The shade of red Sam’s face turns before he finally dissolves into laughter is a thousand percent worth the degradation of actually gifting someone a signed vinyl copy of Celine Dion’s first solo album.

“It’s perfect, Dean. Thanks, man.” Sam pulls his brother into a hug, and his giant paw slapping Dean in the middle of the back literally knocks the panic right out of him. Deans huffs, at a loss for words, and hugs Sam back perhaps just a smidge too forcefully before letting him go.

“You’ll never top Sapphire Barbie for best Christmas present, but this runs a close second.” Sam shakes his head, still grinning as he reads over the back cover of the album while Mary and John look on, varying levels of confusion and amusement on their faces.

“What’s he talking about, Dean?” John asks. He takes a long drink of his whiskey. “Sapphire Barbie? Some kinda code word or something?”

Sam and Dean glance at each other, their shoulders tensing automatically. For a moment, Dean can actually feel the phantom hunger pains transposed over the current fullness of his belly, and he can see a tiny Sam (still way more hair than necessary), huddled despondent and hungry under a shitty, moth-eaten motel blanket, convinced there would be no Christmas. 

“Dean, uh...accidentally got me a Barbie for Christmas one year, it was — a, uh — yeah, he wanted to make sure I got a present, so he grabbed it, and…” Sam trails off. 

John huffs a confused laugh, and Dean’s hackles rise at the scoff, so like Sam’s and yet so much more...condescending. John rises from the couch and goes to refill his glass. Sam seems content to let the moment pass, but something in Dean’s gut, something latent and ignored since his heavenly ascension, sparks and smolders bitterly. 

“How the hell do you ‘accidentally’ get somebody a Barbie?” John asks, still chuckling, and Dean suddenly realizes he’s real fucking tired of biting his tongue.

“I stole the Barbie. Stole a couple of other things, too. A Christmas tree, some decorations, a baton.” 

Mary glances between her sons, confused, before turning to John. “Where were you while this happened?” 

A parade of emotions march over John’s face: confusion is followed by slow recognition. Guilt makes a quick appearance only to be chased away by dull, ashamed anger. 

Dean can practically see John’s mind flashing through the scenario, recalling more about the hunt than his own sons on that cold, nasty Christmas Eve. He knows the instant his dad reverts to default setting of laying the blame on his eldest son. Dean braces himself automatically, his body viscerally reacting to the familiar storm on his father’s face.

Dean has the fleeting thought that at least his dad is drinking from a glass now; ought to hurt a lot less than being hit with a whole bottle.

“You left your brother to go steal from somebody else’s home on Christmas? After what happened with the shtriga?” 

Dean knows true anger, near rage, for the first time in heaven, and the bitter wash of it through him is cutting and all too familiar. 

“Pretty stupid thing to do, I know, but I wasn’t even twelve yet, so I wasn’t making the wisest of decisions.”

“Not even twelve?” Mary cuts in. “Sam? Does anybody feel like explaining this to me?”

“What the hell were you thinking, Dean, anything could have—” 

But Dean had a lifetime of being plowed under by his dad’s inability to take responsibility, has had way more than enough of shouldering the blame for shit he should never have been left with in the first place.

“I was thinking that somebody should get a seven-year-old something for Christmas, should make sure he has enough to eat. Where were you, Dad? What were you thinking? Because you sure as hell weren’t thinking about us.”

That knot starts up in Dean’s throat again, the muscles tightening against the fear that blossoms in his chest, echoed from decades of training. Sam’s hand finds Dean’s arm, and Dean looks to him. Instead of the caution or reproach he’s expecting, though, all Sam simply nods. 

“Say it, Dean.”

Dean stands slowly, facing John Winchester with every bit of strength he’s built, every bit of courage he’s earned from a lifetime of terror, and realizes that the angry, bitter man before him is no more a threat to him anymore than Chuck is. And without looking, he knows Sam stands behind him, solid and resolute.

“I wasn’t even twelve. It was Christmas, and you abandoned us. Yeah, I stole Sam a Barbie doll. You know what I got for Christmas that year? The year before? Every fucking year before that for almost as long as I can remember?”

John opens his mouth, even now unable to admit his faults, but Dean barrels on before his dad can get a word out.

“Not a damn thing from you. Not one damn thing. Not presents, not food, not a warm place to sleep or a word of thanks or approval. Not even a fucking phone call to say Merry Goddamn Christmas.” Dean pauses one last time, and it suddenly feels like he’s towering over the man whose shadow always felt too dark, too large, too suffocating; the man whose respect he used to crave more than food and water. 

“What about me, Dad? Huh? What about me?”

Dean doesn’t recall leaving his parents’ house, doesn’t remember driving home, but he finds himself on his own front porch, leaning forward in his rocking chair. He takes in a long, deep breath before scrubbing his hands through hair and leaning against the back of the chair.

A breeze rifles the leaves of a nearby tree, ruffling Dean’s hair. He taps his thumb against the arm of the chair and takes a long moment to breathe in the night air. 

Dean lets his thoughts roll around for a while. The stars creep slowly across the black, the crickets chirp, and the breeze continues to tickle through Dean’s mussed hair. 

“You and I could write the book on shitty dads, am I right, kid?”

He’s not sure why he decides to talk to Jack. Just nice to have someone to talk to, knowing they’re not going to talk right back.

“Could just cut him out. Dunno how that’d work in heaven.” He thinks a moment, then grins to himself. “Not sure Mom’d let me get away with that. Sam would back me up, though.” Dean grins into the somehow not-empty night. “I would be the guy that brings a family feud into paradise, huh?”

Dean takes in the wilderness around him, the empty house at his back, the extra rocking chair for...a visitor, he supposes. He has learned today that heaven, as perfect as it is, still holds anger and bitterness and loneliness, and he figures that’s to be expected. 

“You still did good, kid. You and me, we did good even with our shitty old men in and outta our lives. Glad we cut yours out for good. Guess I’ll figure out how to deal with mine eventually. All I’ve got now is time, anyway.”

Dean pushes up slowly, still surprised at the lack of cricks, pops, and aches that accompanied the action his last couple of years on earth. 

“Night, Jack,” he says into the wind. He glances over at the empty rocking chair one last time. “If you see him, tell him —just tell him—” 

Dean frowns, shakes his head, and turns his back on the night.

…

Jake’s not a crier, not really. There are inevitable tears that come with bad falls, but Jake sheds tears like it’s a physical reaction that he’s getting out of the way so he can move on. 

So when Betty goes to change the sheets in her son’s room, only to find him silently crying on the floor, she panics. Sheets flop forgotten to the side as she drops next to his, reaching instinctively for his still-plump cheeks.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? What happened?”

“Nothing happened, Mama, I’m sorry I scared you,” he sniffles, his eyebrows down low on his small forehead. 

Jake has never lied in his entire young life, and Betty is torn because he is obviously upset about something, but his face is full of nothing but truth and confusion.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Jakey,” she says, settling on the floor next to him and opening her arms. He instantly climbs into her lap, hooking his own arms around her neck and nuzzling under her chin. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Can you tell me what made you cry?”

“I...I don’t know,” he says, his little voice quiet and heavily confused. “I was playing with Tabby, she was helping me build a tower with my blocks, and then Mommy came to get Tabby for her snack.”

Betty is stumped. Jake has never had any kind of separation anxiety, as far as she can tell. He’s spent nights with both sets of grandparents, even a couple of weekends with aunts, uncles, and cousins, and never shed so much as a single tear.

“You...are you crying because you miss Tabby? She’s right in the next room, baby, you can go with her for snack time, you know that.”

“No, Mama, I —I don’t know why I’m crying. Tabby hugged me, she said she loved me, then she went with Mommy, and I felt...really happy. Like —the happiest ever, and...it was too much happy?”

The last part comes out as a question, and honestly Betty isn’t sure how to answer it. 

“Well, baby,” she starts hesitantly, not sure where to lead this particular discussion. “Can you explain  what you mean when you say ‘too much happy’?”

He snuggles closer against her chest, his forehead pressing along her jaw. “I dunno. I think...maybe I’m not supposed to be that happy? Is that why the tears came out? Because I got more happy than I’m supposed to get? Was I wrong, Mama?”

Betty breathes slowly, tightening her hold on the little boy in her arms. “You weren’t wrong, Jake. You can be as happy as you want. There’s never too much happy, I promise.”

She feels him shift, and she looks down to meet his clear, green gaze. He studies her carefully, scrutinizing her expression, and she’s reminded why she’s always been so very careful to tell her children the truth, albeit on levels they can understand.

“You pinky promise?” 

The proffered pinky is smudged, pudgy, and absolutely perfect. Betty hooks her pinky finger with her son’s, bumping his nose gently with her own. 

“Jakey, you have my eternal permission to be as happy as you are capable of feeling. And no one is ever allowed to take that from you. Good?” He nods, and she carefully brushes the tear tracks from his cheeks. “Sometimes feelings are really big, and they’re just a little too big for your body. They have to find a way out, and that’s why the tears come out.”

“Is that why you cry when you watch the kissy movies?” he asks, suddenly smiling. “Your feelings are too big, too?”

“Yup. We’ve got big feelings in this family, Jakey. Better get used to it, kiddo.”

...

More time passes. Dean walks, he talks, he goes through the motions. He heals a little with every conversation, every time he reaches out, and even though some of the wounds feel as fresh as the day he got them, eventually all that’s left are faint scars. He’d never willingly erase the scars, anyway. He earned them, and he’ll be damned if something like a little death and talk therapy could just wipe them away.

Gradually — so gradually Dean doesn’t realize it until Donna makes a comment one night after their regular poker game — Dean learns to not only let his guard down but drop it entirely. He’s shocked to realize the loss of his emotional armor doesn’t even bother him. 

Dean works on Baby, drinks with Bobby, teaches Mary how to make an apple pie from scratch, and even manages to have a couple of honest, semi-civil conversations with his father. They don’t exactly reach Andy and Opie levels of father-son bonding, but John does eventually manage to grudgingly admit he fucked up some (a lot). Dean supposes anyone can make progress in heaven if they try hard enough. 

He’s talked to everyone he can think of, settled scores, smoothed ruffles, filled himself to bursting with absolution. Dean is so absolved he thinks he might punch the next person who pats him on the back and tells him how much good he’s done for the world.

And still, he comes home every night to that extra rocking chair. 

He waits now, waits while he talks with Sam, waits while he walks through the woods, waits while he changes Baby’s oil. He can’t shake the feeling that something is coming. He can feel it around himself, like a suit of armor or a second skin. Nothing terrible, nothing ominous, but something. Which is weird because nothing ever seems to happen in heaven, not really. 

Could be he’s just bored, but Dean doesn’t think that’s it. Not entirely.

He talks to Jack nightly now. It’s a habit, something to help Dean talk through and untangle his thoughts into something he can understand. He looks forward to their talks, being able to get his feelings out without being either validated or rebuffed. Just letting some steam off.

He’s done it for so long that he can barely remember the night he started. Dean knows Jack can hear him, but the kid’s been true to his word, stayed hands off and radio silent. He lets mortals deal with their own issues, keeping himself and the supernatural world well away. Even the angels leave people alone in heaven.

Especially the angels, Dean grudgingly admits to himself, late one night after leaving Sam’s house. Instead of going home to that extra rocking chair, he drives Baby slowly, aimlessly, yet somehow ends up back on that same bridge where he met up Sam all those years ago. 

He parks right at the end (no traffic in heaven) and strolls out to the middle, scuffing his boots and sending little puffs of dust in the air. His hands are stuffed deep in his pockets, out of habit more than anything else, and he lifts his gaze from the ground up to the full moon in the sky.

“Hey, kid,” he says softly. “Hope it’s goin good for you.Things are pretty good here. I know you know, you’re everywhere and all that,” Dean waves his hand vaguely, then continues, “Just wanted to let you know, I guess. I didn’t tell you enough, but we—I —really appreciated you. Appreciate you. You, uh...you did real good, kid. Then and now.” He pauses, then takes a breath, standing straight and letting all pretense go.“Please tell Cas...he did good, and...I miss him. And I know you’re all taking the hands-off approach, but —I dunno, maybe...he could —stop by? Or…”

The silence around Dean is heavy, comforting like a thick blanket.  

Or a tan trenchcoat, he thinks.

“Jack —“

He cuts himself off, though. He spent all this time in heaven working through rivers of bullshit, wearing down mountains of lies and self-loathing until he can finally be honest and open with everyone. And if he’s going to be honest with himself tonight, Jack isn’t who he needs to talk to.

“Sorry kid, I gotta put you on hold.”

Purgatory flashes before his eyes, that sense of loss and being lost, the desperation and certainty that he’d never see his best friend again. 

I can’t do this anymore, he thinks. I can’t pretend anymore. And I’m done lying to myself.

“Cas. Castiel. I hope you can hear me. I miss you. I don’t know where you are. Bobby said you were here, that you helped remake this place into something pretty damned awesome, but I never see you. I can feel you sometimes, can tell some things are up here just because you put ‘em there. Someone will tell a story, and I swear I can feel you standing right beside me, can almost hear you frowning and not understanding the joke. I…”

He knows there’s something left —knows he hasn’t found the right words yet. He has no idea what that right thing is, or even what he’s still waiting for, but he figures if he just barrels on, it’ll come to him. 

“There was too much in the way, back on earth, in Purgatory. Too much always coming after us, trying to kill us or worse. I got in my own damned way, never knew what to say or how to say it. Didn’t think I deserved...I should’ve…”

He’s not sure what’s more bizarre, that he’s praying to someone who probably won’t respond — probably can’t even hear him — or that he’s doing so in a place wildly opposite from that last time he prayed like this. 

Dean isn’t sure how he keeps ending up in this situation, but here he is, gasping out his feelings to the night air, barely able to squeeze the words past that perpetual knot in his throat. 

“It’s a lot clearer up here, more room to breathe and think. This heaven you and Jack made...it’s great. Hell, it’s damn near perfect. But there’s no you. And I just can’t see my heaven as right without you. I can’t...I can’t take my forever if you’re not in it.”

A wispy cloud, silver in the moonlight, drifts across an otherwise flawless sky. Dean stares upwards for several minutes, wondering if Cas can see the same stars tonight, wherever he is. 

“Maybe...I don’t know if you can come back. Or if you even left. I don’t know how any of it works.”

He’s on the cusp. He can almost taste the next step. 

Dean’s at a loss, though. He could be brave: he could say everything he should’ve said in that last moment, everything he should have told Cas. 

Or he could take the comfortable path, revert to being a dick and tell Cas exactly how he feels about all this silent treatment, about the no-show in heaven or not telling him about his deal with the Empty until it was too late, about waiting until the last second so Dean would have no time—

Or he could do both. 

Both is good.

Metal railings squeak under Dean’s punishing grip. He’s not sure when he grabbed hold of the bridge itself, but right now he needs all the support he can get.

“You left me! You should have told me, given me a chance. Another chance, just one more. I’m sorry, Cas, I knew but I didn’t. I— I should’ve told you, should’ve held you, I could have—“

The tears flow unimpeded, the air squeezed from his lungs in convulsive gasps, but Dean can’t stop now.

“I should have told you everything I felt, every day. I should have trusted you more, and I’m so sorry. You were always family, you were always there for me when I needed you. We both fucked up so many times, lost so much time together. I was so angry at you, at me, at everyone and everything, and I let it get in the way.”

The silence around him is maddening. Here he is, ripping his guts out in the middle of the bridge, and all he gets back is crickets and evening breezes. Dean shoves off the railing, too frantic to stay still.

“Gimme something, Cas, anything! I’m pouring my heart out! I fucked up, and I’m sorry, and I swear I’m gonna do better, but you’ve gotta give me the chance! Just...just give me some sort of answer, please? Let me know you’re there!”

The silence persists. 

Just as quickly as Dean’s rage crescendos, it fizzles suddenly. He drops to the ground, back and head slamming hard against the side of the bridge as he lets out a roar of helpless rage. His fists grip his hair, teeth grinding against the wave of helplessness that threatens to overwhelm him.

“I missed my chance, I waited too long, I should’ve said— I should have—“

And then it comes to him.

His hands draw down from his hair, scrubbing his face before steepling his fingers in front of his mouth. He can’t believe it’s taken him this long to realize. 

“I’m an idiot.” His voice is barely audible, even to his own ears, but he has no doubt his words will reach their intended destination. “This place you built, you and Jack, it’s as good as it gets. I deserve it, I earned it. I got my family, I got the easy life for a while. I got my family. I had my rest. There’s only one thing left in the universe I need, only one person I want.”

Dean stands, dusting himself off and turning his face back up to the stars. 

“I’m ready, Cas. I— I love you. And I’m ready for the next thing. Whatever that is. However that is. As long as—”

One last pause.

“As long as you’re there, that’s all I need.”

...

The inevitable day of separation comes: Jake’s first day of kindergarten. Samantha is proud of her guardian warrior, knows he’s going to succeed at everything he puts his little bullheaded mind to. Betty hopes very hard that he won’t be too lonely without Tabitha there with him. Tabitha only knows that Jake’s finger tastes good and makes her gums feel better when she chews on it.

Jake, as always, approaches this monumental step with aplomb and logic. 

“I’ll give it a shot,” he says casually as his little sister gnaws on his thumb. “An’ if I don’t like it, I’ll just stay here and take care of Tabby. You an’ Mommy can go to work, then, ‘kay, Mama? I can make nut butter n’ jelly sammiches. But I’ll try it out.”

...

School isn’t so bad, Jake decides on his second day. His teacher Mrs. Harris seems to know what she’s doing (she already knows who she can trust with scissors and glue), and the other kids are nice enough. There’s different toys (“learning tools”, Mrs. Harris calls them), so that’s interesting enough, but—

Something is missing.

“Can you tell me what you mean, Jakey?” Betty asks at dinner that night. “Are there supplies you need? We got everything on the list.” She wipes a smear of sweet potato off Tabitha’s face before looking back to her son. His mouth is turned down in a frown of concentration, like he’s trying to remember something.

“I don’t need anything, Mama, just...someone. I need someone. My friend hasn’t come to school yet.”

“It takes time to make friends, baby,” Samantha says. “It’s only the second day of school. Have you tried asking anyone to play yet?”

“Yeah, and they’re fun and all, but they aren’t my friend. My friend isn’t here yet,” Jake says. Then his frown vanishes with the sudden mood change of a five-year-old, and he turns beseeching eyes on Betty, aiming unerringly at the softer target. “I finished my green beans. That means dessert now, right, Mama?”

Jake decides on the third day that the best place to wait for his friend (he just knows he’s going to show up any day now) is the playground.

“My friend likes the playground,” he murmurs. “That’s good, I like the playground, too.” He eats his lunch slowly, watching the other kids wolf down their food so they can have extra playtime. He’s barely finished his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, though, when he’s distracted by movement on the other side of the play yard. The door to the school opens and the school secretary steps out. Then she turns and gently pulls someone out from behind her.

A small boy stands in the doorway, white shirt tucked neatly into black slacks. His blue tie is a little loose, as if he’s been tugging on it, and his tan jacket is a little too big, hanging loosely around his small frame. His hair looks like someone was in too much of a rush to comb it properly. He clutches a pink piece of paper in one hand and, in the other, a backpack inexplicably decorated with flying, winged slices of pizza. 

“Late drop-off, parent had to run,” the secretary tells Mrs. Harris before tiptoeing out of the room. 

With an anxious glance at the other children, the boy scuttles forward and immediately trips over his own untied shoelaces.

Jake is at the little boy’s side before anyone else can react, kneeling down to check on him. The prone child is too shocked to cry, both by the fall and by the sudden appearance of this unknown factor. Jake checks him over, then nudges him until he sits up. 

“You gotta keep ‘em double tied,” Jake says seriously. “Or else that’ll happen all the time.” Without waiting for an answer, Jake sets about the laborious task of looping each set of laces in turn, rabbits chasing each other around trees and down holes until the shoes are secure.

Jake climbs to his feet and reaches down, gripping the other boy’s shoulders and helping him stand. A dark smear of jelly stains the shoulder of the coat in the shape of a smudged purple handprint.

“Thank...thank you,” the smaller boys whispers. He lifts his eyes hesitantly, and clear blue meets olive green for the first time. “I’m Chris.”

“I’m Jake.” He thinks for a long moment, frowning. Something is settling in his chest, something big and permanent and scary; at first he thinks it’s too much. 

Then he thinks back to what Mama told him: you can be as happy as you want. 

He smiles at Chris. “You’re with me. You’re the one I was waiting for.”

Hope and just a bit of delight flicker across Chris’s eager face. 

“I am? You mean it?”

Jake nods and grabs his new friend’s hand. “Yep. Now you’re here, that’s all I need. And nobody's allowed to take you from me, Mama said so. C’mon, let’s play cars.”

[abraxos-is-toothless]

Some Minyard-Josten rivalry plus softness fic please!

Ask and ye shall recieve (well, recieve slowly). I loved writing this but you shall be the judge of whether or not it’s any good. I’ll be adding my tag list down below and if someone has more propmts, here is my ask box.

On with the show!

They were on their last game of the season and Neil was both happy and sad about it, because while it was off season, he got lazy mornings with that cats and late night drives in the Maserati. But this also meant no Exy except for training and Kevin phoning constantly to make sure he was eating properly. He’d had enough it during college and would always contemplate murder whenever he was asked, “Have you seen the new meal plan I sent you?” It was fucking annoying.

It was the last few minutes of the game and his legs were ready to give out on him. It had been a brutal game since the first buzzer sounded, and now, defence was beginning to border on the line of illegal marking and ramming strikes into the plexi-glass.

Andrew was on the opposite team and was in goal for the last quarter, meaning Neil would not be getting in any more than two goals unless he tried hard enough. They had agreed that neither of them would go easy on the other when they played court together. It had been almost two years since he had left college and three since Andrew had, however, they couldn’t play on the same team yet because Andrew still had a year left on his contract with no way out of it. Long distance was hard but they made it work. But there was also another thing that helped to ease the pain of not being near each other 24/7.

The Minyard-Josten rivalry.

A fan had started it not long after Neil had joined a professional team and it had been top most thing talked about in Exy since. Neither of the two would confirm nor deny that it was a real thing but they also liked to add to the drama now and then. One of them would call out the other on twitter or make it seem like they were shouting at each other in Russian on court, which was great because everyone thought they were insults, yet they were only asking each other very domestic couple things.

Did you feed those idiot cats this morning?

What ice cream do you want this weekend when I come over?

I made space in a draw for you; it’s easier than bringing a whole duffel bag each time. You did? It’s for convenience junkie, now shut up.

But there was always one that broke Andrew’s composure slightly, causing him to flip Neil off or throw the ball at his legs.

Remember that time you had me on my knees in the locker room?

They were always asked questions after games and people would sometimes try to stop them in the streets, but they only ever got blank looks in return.

Neil had just got close enough to the goal now to try and take a shot but Andrew blocked it with ease, which made Neil shout something ridiculous about what take out they were having. Apparently though, one of the newer backliners on Andrews’s team didn’t take too kindly to supposed verbal abuse against his team mates. He vaguely remembered them ‘Jeffords’ before he was body checked so hard he lost his helmet and his vision when black for a few seconds. Or maybe it was longer because the next thing he knew, he was being lifted onto a stretcher by paramedics, and Andrew was a quiet yet angry force to his left.

“I’m going with him. Try to stop me and I’ll stab you.”

None of them knew Andrew well enough, which meant they didn’t realise how real that threat was. People were protesting saying that they weren’t even team mates so why should he and that there was still a game to play. He knew there was only so much more Andrew would take before violence ensued and he tried, yet failed, to make him calm down.

“Drew, m’fine. It’s o-okay.” He said while reaching out with one hand but he didn’t know how well that worked as everything was still very hazy in his mind. He felt like he wasn’t in control which didn’t help things, because whenever he felt like that, panic attacks happened. Noticing this, Andrew seemed to have had enough with all the objections and people standing in his way.

Pulling off his gloves, reached into his jersey and yanked out a chain. A chain which Neil knew held a small gold band engraved with ‘Abram’ on the inside. After everyone one realised what he was trying to show them he said;

“He is my husband. I have every right to go to that hospital with him, your fucking game be damned. Now move out of my way or more of you will be joining us.”

Neil had blacked out again before he could see the shock on everyone’s faces.

oOoOo

When he woke again, he was in a very white room, dressed in a stupid hospital gown, and there was annoying monitor beeping in his ear. Neil groaned slightly, trying to sit up, when a hand took a hold of one of his own and another rested on the back of his neck.

“Easy junkie, you have a bad concussion and some bruised ribs. The docs want you to stay for the night for observation.”

Turning his head to look at Andrew, he noticed the furrowed brow and tense set of his jaw and raised a hand to his cheek, not actually touching until he was given a nod to do so. Andrew leaned into the touch slightly and Neil moved his thumb to trace his cheekbone.

“Are you alright, Drew?”

The question earned him a very displeased scoff.

“You were the one rammed into a wall by a guy the size of Boyd, yet you’re asking me how I am? Your idiocy knows no bounds.”

Reaching up, he took the hand that was on his neck down into his lap and rubbed at the gold band there. He knew there was more that Andrew wanted to say but didn’t know how just yet, so he waited. There was a ragged breath before he continued.

“Your helmet came off and you weren’t moving, but I couldn’t get to you. By the time I pushed through everyone, I could hear the medics calling for an ambulance.” His voice went shaky while he tried to say the next bit and he started playing with Neil’s ring in return, “wh-when you blacked out again, the paramedics looked panicked. I kept asking what was wrong but they wouldn’t say anything. The doctors said it wasn’t bad when we got here, but I thought-“

He cut himself off then and turned his face away, but Neil didn’t want him to start bottling everything up. They didn’t do that anymore, so, he brought Andrew’s hand to his face and began kissing his palm which usually helped to calm him down. When he turned back to him, Neil whispered gently, “You thought what? You can tell me.”

“I thought you weren’t going to wake up.”

Hearing the fear in his voice broke something in Neil, so he patted the small space beside him on the bed, not knowing what to say just yet. Andrew climbed up to lay next to him, albeit slowly and careful of his injuries. When they were finally lying down face to face, Neil cupped his cheek in his palm again, while Andrew fisted his hands in the front of the awful coloured gown.

“I love you, Andrew Minyard-Josten. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”

He was pulled impossibly closer at that, so close that he could feel his husband’s breath on his nose.

“Don’t you dare scare me like that again, ever.”

There was no way he could promise that, so he simply just nodded, content to going back to sleep with Andrew in his arms.

He could feel that heavy weight pulling him under, but just before he let it have him, he heard a quiet mumbling above him of what he thought were the best words to ever be spoken.

“I love you too, Neil Minyard-Josten. Idiot.”

Tags: @junkiejosten10 @oreosndscones @koholania @skunked-up-kicks @shutuptheooo @hannahoftheinternet @palmettofoxesthings @jostenlovesminyard @fangirl0503 @stop-breathing-its-annoying @incorrect-the-foxhole-court @intoomanyfandomsstuff @imstupidremember @fancyclodpaintercookie

[aftgficrec]

Hiii! Im looking for an au where Neil and Andrew are separate cat owners and they take their cats to the vet and the vet calls one of them up by saying: the owner for the stupidly named cat" or smth and then they both stand and ig that's how they meet? sorry this is really badly described and idk if it even exists or if I imagined it but thanks anyway

Hello, friend!  Well, we have a real treat for you: the fic you’re searching for is most likely based on this post by @andrews-nothing.  Instead of just one fic, we have 2 fics and 1 series for you!  Have a great time reading! - S

A Mewment Like This by fuzzballsheltiepants [Rated T/M, 38784 words, Incomplete, Last Updated July 2020]

Part 1: Name Games [Rated T, 2312 words, Complete 2018]

The credit for this fic belongs to @andrews-nothing on Tumblr for their post: Andriel AU where Andrew owns Sir Fat Cat McCatterson and Neil owns King Fluffkins and they meet because they’re both at the vet at the same time. The assistant, an aggravated and annoyed Kevin, announces to the lobby, “will the owner of the cat with the stupid name come back here? Your cat is trying to kill the vet.” And Neil and Andrew both stand up.

Part 2: That Cocky F*%!ing Smile [Rated T, 2222 words, Complete 2018]

A follow up to Name Games, in which Neil and Andrew meet up for coffee. A series of lawyer jokes ensue and Andrew speculates about Neil's overly-involved coworkers.

Part 3: Imagine Me and Mew [Rated T, 2738 words, Complete 2018]

Neil enjoyed getting coffee (it wasn't even coffee!) with his new friend Andrew. His coworkers see it a little differently. Neil has an existential crisis.

Part 4: Too F*%!ing Deep [Rated T, 2694 words, Complete 2018]

Andrew tries to convince himself that he doesn't need more drama in his life. Renee believes otherwise. And Neil is too intriguing for Andrew to walk away.

Part 5: Don't Freak Meowt [Rated T, 3534 words, Complete 2018]

Neil can't figure out what his role is in his own life, but Andrew's role seems to be increasing. Nicky invites Neil over for dinner, and things do not go as planned.

Part 6: Absolutely F*%!ing Ridiculous [Rated T, 3358 words, Complete 2018]

Neil googles the thing Andrew told him not to. Confusing texts, more shared meals, and a trip to a museum result.

Part 7: Purrtrait of a Disaster [Rated T, 3479 words, Complet 2018]

Neil, Jean, and Jeremy enjoy trivia night, kinda. Nicky and Erik come over for apology dinner and Neil finds out about Aaron. Andrew is just exhausted.

Part 8: What a F*!%ing Mess [Rated T, 3011 words, Complete 2018]

Andrew's stress level is mounting, so he makes an appointment with Bee and then talks to Attorney Abby Winfield. But he still can't figure out what to do about Neil.

Part 9: Can't Stop The Feline [Rated T, 3777 words, Complete 2018]

Neil keeps getting hit on and he doesn't understand. He seeks refuge with Andrew, but that is no less confusing. Yet another shared meal and an embarrassing confession ensues.

Part 10: Who the F*!% Asked Them [Rated M, 4169 words, Complete 2019]

Andrew is faced with the reality of his impending graduation, and all that comes with it. A trip to the aquarium serves as a bit of a distraction, and an excuse to get to know Neil better.

Part 11: Unfurmiliar Thoughts [Rated M, 7490 words, Complete 2020]

While Andrew is away at an externship, Neil takes the time to get to know Sir, and a bit more about himself. Clubbing with his coworkers leads to a confession...and a discovery.

tw: panic attacks, tw: scars, tw: references to past abuse, tw: references to past csa, tw: implied/referenced noncon

don't worry baby (everything will be alright) by ganseyboii [Not Rated, 7506 words, incomplete, last updated May 2019]

"Neil, baby, how are you?"

"Hey, Ally, I'm fine. You know something about cats right?"

In which Sir is sick and Allison recommends Colombia Animal Clinic. There Neil meets Dr. Aaron Minyard, the no-holds-barred veterinarian, Kevin Day, once rich and famous surgeon now turned rude vet tech, Nicky Hemmick, the peppy receptionist, and Andrew Minyard, the monster of a vet tech that haunts the linoleum halls.

The Cat With The Stupid Name by AnniGrace [Rated G, 803 words, complete, 2018]

Based of the oooooold prompt: "AU where Neil and Andrew meet at the vet when the assistant announces, "will the owner of the cat with the stupid name come here? Your cat is trying to kill the vet."

[thewatsonbeekeepers]

Chapter 2 – Look up here, I’m in Heaven: the height metaphor

[The chapter title comes from David Bowie’s Lazarus. Lazarus is a cracking song, and you should listen to it. X CN: death, disturbing imagery]

It’s worth stating here that this whole meta has a cn for death and suicide – this one is analysing the literal peaks and troughs (height is important in this episode) that Sherlock goes through in order to look at how close he is to dying throughout.

In my reading, EMP theory begins once Mary shoots Sherlock in HLV – I’ve linked the reasons for this in Chapter 1 X, so I’m not going to run through them again here. I think Sherlock comes the closest to death that we see him in the EMP at the end of HLV – if you remember, he’s been put on a plane in ‘exile’ by Mycroft, but in reality is being sent to his death. This plane/height image is really important. In the Christian tradition (and therefore majority Western tradition that the writers are writing in), the sky is associated with heaven – Sherlock’s plane taking off being synonymous with his death seems a pretty straightforward metaphor in that regard. (It’s even one that’s used in Cats, though I don’t know if that’s a good thing.) Further to that – it ties in nicely with Sherlock being ‘high’ through a lot of s4, which represents the moments in which he is most repressed and his repression is most tied to self-harm. We have further ideas to buttress the height/aeroplane metaphor with, however – do you remember the plane in ASiB?

Sure, as I recall it never gets off the ground. But everybody on it is dead. Aeroplanes have an association with death already in this show, and the choice to put Sherlock on a plane rather than lock him up for four minutes or anything equivalent – and probably less expensive to shoot – suggests a deliberate throwback. We’re supposed to think of it as a kind of metal coffin.

[Obviously, there’s another, more notable use of an aeroplane in the programme – you can see where I’m going here. But bear with me – there’s more first.]

I want to quickly talk about what grounds Sherlock’s aeroplane. Moriarty appears on screens everywhere, and then we have the following exchange between Sherlock and Mycroft. I’ve already made a post about this that’s done the rounds on tumblr X, so if you already know this bit you’re ahead of the game.

As far as I can tell, nobody ever tells Sherlock that Moriarty is back. It’s possible Mycroft tells him offscreen, or that he googles it from his phone, given that he’s already breaking flight rules, but given that it’s the entire trigger for TAB, it seems a pretty odd thing to leave out. In EMP theory, it’s also the thing that downs his plane – in terms of the plane metaphor as well as literally, it stops him from dying. It’s pivotal, but we don’t see it. I therefore want to hypothesise – what does it mean if Sherlock is never told that Moriarty is back?

The first thing it tells us is that Sherlock is in his Mind Palace, because he knows that Moriarty is back without needing to be told. But the second is that Mycroft, the brain, is waking Sherlock from his dying stupor to tell him that England needs him, meaning that Sherlock’s brain equates Moriarty coming back with the word ‘England’ in some way. Perhaps this is a tenuous link, but the seed is planted back from ASiP, when we’re taught to associate John with his armchair.

Don’t mind me, I’m just crying. Basically, Sherlock knows that John is in danger and that’s what pulls him back from the brink – and we know it’s serious, because Mycroft, the brain, is warning him. Via call.

The fear of Moriarty coming back might sound like a tenuous symbol for John being in danger, but when we probe deeper the two are actually quite obviously equivalent. The only threat that Moriarty has ever posed to Sherlock is a threat to John’s life – the Semtex, burning the heart out of him, John Watson is definitely in danger, the sniper at the fall. This is Sherlock’s pressure point, and by getting rid of Moriarty, he’s getting rid of any danger to John – we know from his drug abuse etc. that his regard for himself is much lower. So Sherlock being woken from the dead to save John makes complete sense. He died for him, and now he’ll resurrect himself for him.

There are several layers to how John is in danger – the bottom one, which for me s4 is about getting to the heart of, is that without Sherlock John is suicidal. This was established in ASiP, and I believe is the metaphorical plot of TLD (see Chapter 9 X). However, there’s also the problem of Mary, newly discovered as an assassin, and Sherlock trying to work out who she is and where she comes from – more on that later, but there’s certainly a chance she’s linked to Moriarty, given the Morstan/Moran connections. ‘Did you miss me?’ works for both of those layers – the danger John is in from criminals is something that was really apparent in s1 and 2, but John’s endangerment from suicide is also something that was there at the beginning of the series. Sherlock changed these things – and didn’t realise he was the changing factor, but something in his subconscious is telling him that with him gone, John Watson is once again in danger.

So, his plane comes back to the runway – still in his mind palace, of course, but coming down. TAB – of which more on later – seems to be about the return of Moriarty, and Sherlock puzzling through it, which is jarringly absent from TST and TLD if you’re reading it on a surface level – it takes TAB for Sherlock to puzzle through this and to pull him down from death, as he comes to understand the Moriarty threat. This all sounds pretty vague – the TAB chapter will deal with it in more detail. For now, let’s move on to the other places where the height/heaven metaphor comes into s4.

One thing that several meta-writers have pointed out is that Ella’s office is… fucky. It’s not the same office as John repeatedly visits outside the MP – it’s possible that Ella has moved premises, but it’s a weird thing to draw such obvious attention to by the weirdness of the room. This isn’t a subtle change, like John and Mary’s place, it’s a really dissonant one, and the oddness of the room pulls our attention towards a character and space that by rights belong in the background of the story. It’s a really odd move – and that’s why I’m so convinced that it’s important.  

It looks like Heaven, for want of a better description. The window with the light streaming through looks like the very top of a church window, and the beams suggest that the ceiling is like a kind of spire – and the spire in a church is meant to be closer to heaven, that’s part of the imagery. So there’s that side of things, and I really don’t think that’s a coincidence. However, the even weirder part is the partitioning of the room, for want of a better word. The wall ends at about chair height, and from there to the floor is – nothing? These aren’t mirrors because the chairs aren’t reflected. I have never seen a room partitioned like this, and nor has anyone I’ve shown the image to – again, it draws attention to itself. If the creative team had wanted us to take this scene at face value, they would have put Ella in an office. This is not a psychiatrist’s office. The partitions mean that it isn’t even private.

I don’t know if I’m right about the partitions, but there’s only one thing they remind me of, and that’s a closing door. It’s a trope in an adventure film – I first saw it in Indiana Jones, but it’s in many a movie. It also features in Doctor Who on multiple occasions.

It’s the moment when the door is coming down and you only have a few seconds to get under it, otherwise you die. Indiana Jones famously goes back for his hat. That one. That’s what the space under the partition looks like. Sherlock, thinking he’s solved the case of Norbury and therefore Mary (more in Chapter 7 X) is ready to pop off – he’s nearly gone. But in a moment of self-interrogation – making sure he got everything right, that John’s safe now – he realises he isn’t, and so he comes down. That sinking downwards is represented by the water imagery, as he sinks deep into his subconscious – LSiT has written a fantastic meta on water in S4 which you can read here X, as I’m loath to take credit for this idea!

I’m going to talk about water a lot more in the chapters on TFP, because of John in the well and pirates and so much, but the obvious thing to talk about now is the plane in TFP.

This is a point where surface level plot breaks down – because this cannot be in Eurus’s mind. When we watch film/tv, we make one of two assumptions – either we have the omnipotent view, like in most films, where we’re guided by the director but everything we see is ultimately objectively true, or we see through somebody else’s eyes (rarer). These can be played with – think of a film like The Usual Suspects (please skip to the next paragraph if you haven’t seen this film because it’s fantastic) where the film lets the viewer rest on their laurels and slip into normal, objective viewing patterns when of course it’s a subjective, flashback narrative, which Kevin Spacey is deliberately obscuring to trick an audience. This rug pull can be fantastic, but we don’t have such a rug pull here. Either it’s a poor man’s version, or there’s something else going on. Mug drop.

New paragraph – spoilers gone. Moments where the perspective was actually subjective and we missed it or forgot it are great rug pulls, because the clues are there but we don’t spot them. We love a good unreliable narrator. This isn’t the case here. The plane scene, as visualised, exists only inside Eurus’s head. Eurus is emphatically not our narrator during TFP, so when it comes out that the girl on the plane isn’t real, we just feel lied to.

If we accept that s4 takes place inside Sherlock’s MP, this makes more sense, because all of the characters are manifestations of different parts of Sherlock’s psyche and so he can jump between perspectives. It also means that the terror of being on a crashing plane that Eurus has felt ever since she was a child is not hers – it’s Sherlock’s. If we remember that planes are synonymous with dying in this show, an association that’s reinforced because of the “sleeping” people on the plane, a clear throwback to the dead passengers in ASiB, the climax of S4, when Sherlock is trying to save John and work out his repressed memories, is all fuelled by a child’s nightmare of dying, a terror that has resurfaced.

I think Eurus represents Sherlock’s queer trauma, and I’ll explain that in more detail in Chapter 5 X, which is completely devoted to Eurus. Her representing trauma, though, makes a great deal of sense in this situation. The problem of the plane, the threat that she hinges on, is one that has been repeating and repeating, though repressed, inside Sherlock’s consciousness, and he breaks through it with not only kindness, but the recognition that it is all in Eurus’s (and by extension his) head.

This doesn’t diminish the trauma that Sherlock experiences – one of the things I begrudgingly like about the ending of TFP. Sherlock can’t get rid of the problem and possible danger that is his trauma – but he can stop it from careering to the point of destruction by recognising it, he can learn to live in harmony (see the violin duet) with it, he can accept its existence.  Pushing through that trauma is what makes him able to abandon the plane and (we hope) return to the real world.

The positioning of the aeroplane problem in relation to the John-trapped-in-a-well problem is also pretty important. I’m of the firm belief that Eurus represents queer trauma, and this is the trauma that throughout the entirety of series 4 is both pushing him towards John and blocking him from him. Sherlock needs to wake up to save John, and has to push through the trauma to recognise this – but the trauma is blocking his way. She’s stopping him from helping John – it’s a terrible moment when Sherlock is telling John that he’s busy whilst John is drowning in the well – but it’s also pushing through the aeroplane moment that allows him to save John in the MP. This is the paradox of queer repression, right, and the paradox in Eurus’s behaviour – she’s simultaneously blocking Sherlock and leading him on to the solution.

When Sherlock finally reaches Eurus’s room, he tells her that he’s on the ground and he can bring her down too – and what is most striking is the way Eurus is sitting. She’s actually incredibly grounded, sitting cross-legged on the floor, and given that the house is burned it’s likely that this is the ground floor as well. The dark room is a far cry from the bright lighting of the plane – everything suggests that she’s been pulled back. And of course, the lovely touch that all she needs to do is open her eyes. That’s all the creators have ever been asking people to do – open their eyes to what is hiding in plain sight – and Eurus is allowing Sherlock to see things afresh for the first time. But also, this final breakthrough is what’s going to allow Sherlock to open his own eyes, right? So that phrase is doubly powerful.

And there was me hating on TFP for three years. That’s a brief journey through the highs and lows of series 4, though if anyone can explain the planes in TST to me that would be wonderful! The next chapter will do a run through of HLV before we move onto TAB and series 4.

[satsuki2406]

Dear Aomi Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

"I've seen you in a dream before, you are the warm and bright presence that embraced me on Cape Kamui a long time ago on a June afternoon."

Shinohara (Y/N) is a normal girl who had everything she could ask for, a loving family, a beautiful home, friends, and a fluffy cat. For a long time, she gave her life and happiness for granted, never imagining that she'll face one of the worst and crueler facades of society so closely, destroying what once was a happy, harmonious and normal family. One day, in hopes to recover what they lost, the Shinohara family took one of the more difficult decisions of their lives; leave behind their home back in Hokkaido and travel hundreds of miles south until Musutafu, the place that could grant them a solution and help close the yet fresh wound and scare away the ghosts of the past. Hardheaded, passionate, and ambitious (Y/N) is forced to confront the incarnated face of the superhuman society that she hated the most; Bakugou Katsuki.

PAIRING: (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

GENRE/WARNINGS: Romance, Fluff, Angst, Dark Themes, My poor attempt of humor, Strong language (Courtesy of Lord Explosion Murder 💥), Manga Spoilers, LONG ass chapter.

STATUS: On going

Chapter 1: School is a Great Place to Make Enemies

2-My Stupid Classmate, the Angry Dandelion

Running steps along tired panting could be heard through the empty streets. Both teens were now a good distance from school but adrenaline pushed them to keep going a little more. But once the necessity of breathing started to kick in, both decided that a break would be more than appreciated. They came to a halt at the entrance of a tunnel and concentrated now on catching their breath, once he was recovered enough to talk, Midoriya, timidly made the first comment. “Shi-Shi-Shinohara-san…!” (Y/N), getting one last intake through her nose, landed her eyes on Midoriya who whimpered nervously hardly believing that now he had officially talked to a girl who wasn’t his mom. “Huh? What is it?”

The poor boy, unsure of what to do and terribly flustered, tried to rearrange his thoughts while covering his reddened face with his arms.

“W-Why you di-did that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Confront Kacchan, de-defend me I mean” Midoriya almost whispered.

“And why shouldn’t I? You were being a victim of injustice so I stepped in, that’s how it works, if you see someone in trouble, you help them, that’s the correct thing to do isn’t it?”

Midoriya watched amazed at (Y/N) while she sweetly smiled at him, touched by her words.

“W-Well I guess b-but... you-you don’t think I’m a loser cause I’m quirkless?! A-Aren’t you going to avoid me like everybody else does? Make fun of me like the rest of the class?!”

“To be honest Midoriya, ‘til this moment you haven’t give me a single reason to do any of that, actually, you look like a nice guy.” Midoriya’s blood pressure was sky high at this point, a pretty girl faced no other than Bakugou fucking Katsuki for his sake twice in the timespan of eight hours, talked to him kindly and also complimented him? All in the same day?!

‘This is so crazy!’

“Midoriya?” (Y/N)’s voice interrupted his accelerated thoughts. “Y-Yes?!”

“Are you ok? I mean, Bakugou blasted your desk at the beginning of the class- oh by the way! What was that notebook you had earlier? ‘Hero notes for the future’ was it? I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him from burning it, but at least it didn’t end at a koi pond or something.” (Y/N) said with a closed-eye smile.

“I-It’s ‘He-Hero Analysis for the Fu-Fu-Future’ actually, b-but you g-got it close! H-Hero notes is ok! I-I mean if you want to call it that way! But you can call it whatever you like! If you want to put it a specific name it is, if not, it is ok! Oh my God...! This is kind of overwhelming, we just jumped from a third floor but we are safe and sound! I can’t believe you actually confronted Kacchan, b-but what if now he starts targeting you?! It would be all my fault! I’M SO SORRY SHINOHARA-SAN!! But unlike me, you could rely on your quirk to defend yourself, but after what happened today, he will try to take revenge for sure…! And my situation with him could get even worst, especially after what happened today! But even though…*mutter mutter mutter mutter mutter mutter mutter mutter mutter…*”

Midoriya kept blabbering and blabbering endlessly and (Y/N) just could sweat drop and observe him with eyes wide as saucers. ‘He definitely has no friends, huh? Even if it sounds mean, it was expected.’ (Y/N) took a deep breath and smiling at the awkward greenettte she decided to stop Midoriya’s creepy monologue before it got even longer.

“Midoriya…” She rose her hand and softly karate chopped the top of his fluffy head. “…snap out of it!” (Y/N) said while smiling at the now deeply flushed boy.

“I-I’m so sorry!” The poor boy said while aggressively bowing his head at a inhuman speed.

“Haha! No problem! You really are funny Midoriya! But please stop that you’ll damage your neck.”

“F-Funny?! M-Me?!”

“Yup! By the way, who’s Kacchan?”

“O-Oh, w-well Kacchan is actually Bakugou’s nickname, everybody used to call him like that when we were kids, I guess it just got stuck with me. His actual full name is Bakugou Katsuki.”

“Oh my God! You actually call him that all the time?! Hahaha! That’s sooo cute! I’ll tease him tomorrow with that for sure!”

“W-What?! No! Please Shinohara-san you’re already on Kacchan’s bad side! Don’t get in more trouble because of me!”

“I’m not afraid of Bakugou, Midoriya. As you said I can rely on my quirk for self-defense, and besides, if that asshole is that dead serious about getting into U.A he’ll try to keep his record as clean as possible. He’s nothing more than a bully who was lucky enough to get a strong quirk.” A serious and confident look was settled on (Y/N)’s eyes, Midoriya, despite being surprised by her courage, remained a bit doubtful. After suffering years and years of mental and physical abuse by Bakugou, he was unsure if it was a good idea for Shinohara to keep on irking the already irritable blond. But at the end, she had something he never will, a power of her own and self-confidence. Maybe he could try to rub on a bit of the last one.

“Oh, damn it! Our shoes still at school! I guess my plan wasn’t bulletproof after all…” Midoriya lowered his view to his shoes finding out that indeed, (Y/N) was right, a pair of white uwabaki* were covering his feet instead of his signature red shoes.

“Oh no! I forgot my bike too! My parents are going to kill me!” (Y/N) said desperately pulling her (Y/N) locks. “Crap I need to go back to school!” (Y/N) tried to put her head together with a plan to sneak into school and avoid bumping into Bakugou to avoid more trouble. ‘He probably left already, but I can’t take the risk anyway.’

“I-I’m sorry that you are having to get in all this trouble because of me, I’m sorry Shinohara-san” (Y/N) saw Midoriya’s sad expression, and a little pang of guilt passed through her. ‘I guess I have to be careful of what I say in front of him, he seems kind of sensitive and self-conscious, I’ll have it on account the next time.’

“Come on Midoriya! You take everything too seriously! And don’t forget that I was the one who decided to step up and give you a helping hand, so don’t overwhelm yourself with the simplest things! It was my mistake so I’ll solve it! As simple as that! (Y/N) said while she padded Midoriya’s back animatedly.

“Well! I guess this is when we part ways Midoriya! See yaaa!~” Just like that the lively (H/C)-ette ran her way to Aldera meanwhile Midoriya contemplated her get lost on the horizon. ‘That was so insane…! I don’t think this day could get more nuts…!’

 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️💨

“Goddamnit! My-my lungs are on fire! If it wasn’t for my regular workout routine, I would have passed out ages ago!” After a couple of minutes, the school came into view again, wheezing and with a tremendous thirst. (Y/N) finally arrived at her destiny. Once she recovered her breath, she started looking for some trace of Gru, Kevin and Bob at the school entrance. Once she verified that the coast was clear, (Y/N) proceeded to jog at the main entrance, where the shoe lockers were located. Thankfully nobody was there at the moment, the only remaining students at the school were the members of the clubs. After finding her locker, she quickly changed her shoes. ‘Perfect! Now to the bike parking we go! If I’m not wrong is at the back of the school’

Stealthy and cautiously, (Y/N) made her way to the bike parking only bumping twice with other students that fortunately weren’t the explosive blonde. Just a few minutes later she could already devise her goal at just a couple of feet away from her, fortunately they weren’t a lot of bikes there like in the morning so find it was easier than expected.

“If I’m not wrong, I put it in the third row to the left, so, in theory it should be right-AHA! There you are!” Right in front of her eyes, was a brand new, vintage style (F/C) bike. It was a gift that (Y/N) received from her parents after they moved to Musutafu, she has been dying to have one of those since the last summer, so it wasn’t an overstatement to say that she almost had a heart attack when she saw it parked with a big (F/C) bow on it at her new house’s driveway after they arrived.

Without wasting more time, she placed her bag on the front basket, unlocked the cable lock and got on the bike. Watching her surroundings one last time to make sure it was safe to go, she pedaled the bike with all her might until she was a fair distance from the school, again.

“That was a close one! I’m glad I didn’t bump into that stupid dandelion!” ‘Although I was honest when I said to Midoriya I wasn’t afraid of him, it doesn’t mean I want to start another argument with him, it would be the third of the day, been his classmate is exhausting enough.’ Thanks to the hectic events occurred no even an hour ago (Y/N) could appreciate better the beautiful view surrounding her, the soft spring breeze swayed the cherry blossoms making them rain over the sidewalk and the heads of the distracted passerby that walked under them. This was a really crazy day full of surprises, some more pleasant than others but having such a calming landscape was really comforting. ‘Maybe this city is not so bad after all’

(Y/N) train of though was abruptly disturbed by a strong explosion that resonated in the distance. “A villain attack? It looks like it is happening in the center-” “Indeed-nya, young lady, in the Commercial District to be more specific-nya” (Y/N) turned her head to find the origin of the voice that answered her inquiry to be found with an elderly woman with cat ears and tail accompanied by who seem to be her daughter. “How do you know it?” (Y/N) asked intrigued. “We just were evacuated from there by the heroes-nya” the younger woman said. “We happened to be shopping there when a villain took a middle schooler hostage-nya and stared to cause havoc in the place, explosions, stores on fire, people running everywhere, it was crazy-nya! We were fortunate enough to escape as soon as it started-nya!”

“Oh God!  A middle schooler?! That sounds awful! I hope the heroes can stop it soon, you really were lucky.” After share a couple more words they went on their separate ways. “Oh man! I was supposed to pass there to buy some stuff for dinner, I guess I’ll have to go to a konbini, I know mom will understand. Now the actual question is how I’m supposed to go home without going through the city centre that must be closed right now?” (Y/N) sighed resigned now that she had no choice. “The long way it is then I guess.”

 🚲🚲🚲

One hour. That was what took (Y/N) to reach her neighborhood, and she still need to go to the konbini before going home. “Thanks God I have the bike, otherwise I don’t want to imagine how long it would have taken to get here with the train station closed right now. I really need a bath~ I want to get into the ofuro* and never get out…” ‘Now that I think about it the konbini should be on this street- Oh! There it is!’ Just In cue with her thoughts the lights of the store made their appearance on the way, lighting the sidewalk in front of it. Quickly, (Y/N) rode her bike to the main entrance and locked it on the little bike parking close to the automated door. After entering, (Y/N) took a shopping basket and was welcomed by the attendant at the cash register. ‘This place is quite large, maybe I can find all I need, ok, so the list say I need carrots, chicken breast, milk, pork cutlet and eggs, it’s not too much’ “Alright let’s get over with this so I can go home!” (Y/N) nimbly navigated through the store to get everything she needed to, along with some snacks and a bottle of Ramune soda to drink during the way home. After she got everything she needed (Y/N) made a beeline to the cash register to pay and leave. She gave her basket to the cashier who proceeded to scan the products, meanwhile (Y/N) busied herself looking other costumers entering and leaving on the convex mirror close to the door; an elderly man, two girls around the same age as her, a kid, Bakugou, another kid…wait-

‘Bakugou?!’

“Danm old hag running out of soy sauce at this fucking hour…” (Y/N) could hear him grumbling as he entered the store, sweating bullets at this point she mentally implore the cashier to hurry the hell up so she could leave before he noticed her presence. ‘Why did I have to grab so many snacks?!’

Unfortunately, the luck that seemed to stick to her the whole day decided to run away before she could do it first, because just in that moment Bakugou decided to take a detour to the manga display section that happened to be right at the side of the cash register. To put the cherry on the top, the Ramune bottle decided to rebel at that moment and refused to be scanned after the third failed try. “Oh, the code seems to be a bit blurred, let me bring another one to scan it” said the cashier. Before (Y/N) could oppose and just leave without the drink, the cashier girl disappeared at the back of the store where the cold drinks were.

‘Please, don’t notice me don’t notice me don’t notice me don’t notice me don’t notice me don’t-’

“The fuck are you doing here thief bitch?” Bakugou sneered

‘Goddamnit!’

“Oh, I don’t know, if we look at the evidence presented here, I’m standing at a convenience store’s cash register with a basket full of products that I’m about to pay for, so what do you think I’m doing here genius?”

“Don’t you smart mouth me idiot” Bakugou sneered.

“Don’t ask stupid questions then”

“You! -”

“I’m back! Sorry for the delay. So, your total would be ¥2738” (Y/N) slammed 3 bills of ¥1000 over the counter, took her bags and told the girl to keep the change before exiting the store.

“Oi thief bitch! Come back here! I’m not done with you!” Bakugou left the Shonen Jump magazine he was holding and went behind (Y/N).

“Oi! I’m talking to you bitc!-”

“Can you just shut up?! I have nothing to talk with you! And stop calling me ‘thief bitch’! I have a name you tared!” Bakugou stopped on his tracks a bit shocked by her reaction, and looked at her load the bike basket with her shopping bags and angrily unlocking the cable to hop on it.  Hunching his posture and shoving his hands in his pockets he addressed her once more, this time more calmly.

 “What’s your problem with me?”

 (Y/N) stopped the bike making the rubbers screech against the ground before turning around to see Bakugou glaring at her. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me”

“If you mean that I completely dislike you and find you absolutely intolerable then yes, that’s my problem, well done Sherlock, can I go now?” (Y/N) turned her back to him with the intention of leave once and for all, but Bakugou had other plans. “What I said on class, what I said to Deku today, I mean it, Every. Single. Word. I’ll surpass All Might and become the strongest, richest and most powerful hero of all time, I don’t care what Deku or you do or think, I’ll crush you both.”

‘The nerve of this guy!’

A long pause took place after Bakugou’s statement, pleased with her silence the young male turned back to the konbini to buy the damn soy sauce his mother was nagging for and go home as well.

“You really are blind, aren’t you?”

“Hah?”

“You, like everybody else thinks that being a hero is all about recognition, fame, money, influence, power, right? Just because you have a powerful quirk you think you have what it takes to be a hero? You talk about surpass All Might yada yada all that crap. How are you supposed to be a hero and even more, exceed The Symbol of Peace himself when all you are is a bully? When you do nothing more than hurt and discourage, treating everybody like trash because you think you must be worshiped like a God who the Universe itself owns its very existence? Tell me Bakugou, you think that with how you are right now, one day when you try to rescue someone, can you guarantee that someone would take your hand? Trust in you blindly? Become a Symbol? You haven’t understood why All Might is the Number One Hero in the first place, it’s not all about fighting and kick everybody’s ass to oblivion. You may have been looking up to him all your life, and you still don’t understand.”

Bakugou looked at her astonished, how dare she to look down on him?!  Of course he had all that it takes to be a hero and more! He is the Bakugou Katsuki! The next Number One Hero! Who wouldn’t want to be saved by him?! He is the best! He is a winn-

“If all you ever do is look down on people, you won’t be able to recognize your own weaknesses.”

“Weaknesses?! What fucking weakne?!-”

“Didn’t you mommy sent you to buy soy sauce? I bet she must be waiting.”

“Don’t change the damn subject!- Oi! get your ass back here!”

“You already made me waste a lifetime, and like I said, I have nothing to talk with you”

As (Y/N) got farther and farther she could hear Bakugou’s shouting being muffled by the distance.

  “Ha, serves you right, asshole.”

  ✒A/N:

Did I invested 45 minutes of my life investigating the real prices in Japan of all the products in (Y/N)’s list to make the total amount as accurate as possible? Yes, yes I did. *cough*OCD*cough*  ¥2738 are approximately $25.61.

*Uwabaki: They are a type of Japanese shoes worn indoors, at home, school or certain companies and public buildings where street shoes are prohibited. 

*Ramune: Is a type of carbonated soft drink originally created and sold in Japan. It’s original taste is lime-lemon, very similar to a Sprite but sweeter and softer, it comes in a wide variety of yummy and weird flavors like bubble gum, melon, cola, curry or teriyaki. If you have the chance to find it give it a try, the original flavor is really good and open the bottle is really fun!

[ultraclops]

Semi-Live Blogging: Finale Time!

With reaction images this time!

Adoradad

TRAINING EXERCIIISE

Adorabat's practicing her screaming! Bet that's gonna come in handy later.

"Fneh!" Wow what an introduction Eugene

His design is like? Really cool?? He looks practically nothing like Adorabat tho. And why does he have a spade on his stomach instead of a heart??

Badgerclops drew him with a giant ass mustache lol.

Adorabat takes banjo lessons? More importantly, Eugene thought she was at a banjo lesson FOR 8 MONTHS?!

"She scares me" lol

Adorabat ran away from home? Why?

"I thought you were a ward of the state!" Remember when everyone thought Adorabat was an orphan? Yea.

"I thought you were my conscience!" Badgerclops...you've lived with Adorabat for a year...went to her school...AND YOU THOUGHT SHE WAS A PIECE OF YOUR SUBCONSCIOUS?!

...why did Badgerclops use Adorabat as monster bait...

I expected to hate Eugene but he's actually really cute and interesting?? Aside from the fact he thinks Mao Mao & Badgerclops are criminals. Love to see him again sometime!

Wow her dad has a whole badass mansion!! Why doesn't she just stay there...

Oh...her mom died...that's why he's so protective of her and was so upset when she left. Also her mom looks amazing & I wanna see a flashback episode with her. For some reason I can imagine her sounding like a deeper version of Scoops?

Aww Adorabat's room is super cool! Also Eugene cracking the door for her asfgjkl

"Do you think that monsters attacking the city are gonna - wait, does that have peanut butter in it? " (Cuts to MM & BC eating ice cream while crying) That's a perfectly rational reaction to losing your adoptive daughter

"I can keep it together!" (Cut to Mao Mao trying and failing to shovel ice cream in his mouth with his helmet on) NSADGEDHAMADH

Wait a second. Mao's eating mint chocolate chip ice cream. ISN'T CHOCOLATE TOXIC TO CATS?!

"But you said I was part of the team!!" "Then you're...off the team."

Adorabat crying while showing Eugene the picture OUCH MY HEART...

"I used to go exploring in those caves with Mom all the time..." I'm guessing those are the caves from the promo?

"She wasn't afraid of anything!" " Well Adorabat definitely takes after her mother...

"And then one day, Sonara didn't come back with you." Ooh her name's Sonara!! Pretty!! I can't tell if they chose it cuz it sounds like Sonar or because it means "pleasant sounding"

Glad to see Adorabat's still a die-hard metal fan, even with Eugene

Oof Mao isn't taking this well at ALL if he's pretending Adorabat's molt is her...

OOH SHIT ADORABAT RAN OFF TO THE CAVES - wait a minute no she didn't. OH NO EUGENE WENT TO THE CAVES

Ooh there's Sonara's looking glass, bet that's gonna be important

Yay Adorabat saved her dad!

Damn Adorabat must be super traumatized after basically watching her mother die. No wonder she tried to murder Boba-Chan!

Oh the only way to stop the monster is by screaming!

(Mao Mao hears Adorabat scream) "ADORABAT?!" ADOPTIVE DAD POWERS ACTIVATE

Ooh her mother's figure appears over her when she says she's not afraid of anyone...maybe her spirit's inside of her or something?

REVENGE TIME BAYBEY

HOLY SHIT ADORABAT FUCKING MURDERED THAT THING

Eugene & Adorabat both apologized to each other I...

"You can't just leave without the most fearless member of the group!" YAAY ADORABAT'S BACK (Also how are we gonna explain to Eugene Adorabat's scared of the dark?)

"I'll mess 'em up real good! So good, their mommies and daddies won't be able to recognize them when I'm done..." Daaammmnnn...

"She scares me :)"

I wonder...is Sonara really dead? Or are they gonna pull a Kipo & have her still be alive but in a different form?

Badge-A-Fire explosion

Uhh...where is Badgerclops? And why is Mao Mao on the top bunk?!

Of course Badgerclops is petty enough to install a fake monster alarm on his laptop to wake Mao Mao and Adorabat up.

"This is a super-serious work meeting, as you can see by the fact that I haven't provided any snacks!" No snacks?! This must be a serious issue!! /s

"As you know, I am a creative genius. Sometimes there's so much natural creative genius that my brain overloads, and I enter a heightened state that I call 'Ultra Focus'..." Oh so basically like hyperfixation?

"...where I break into a creative sprint, inventing super-advanced technology at supernatural speeds, unparalleled by anyone in the entire field of science." Okay maybe only a LITTLE bit like hyperfixation...wait a second, IS THAT WHY BADGERCLOPS IS SO TIRED ALL THE TIME?!

Uhh did he get his arm stuck in the front door? HE TOOK THE AEROCYCLE?!

"...I forget everything the next morning." Remember my headcanon that Badgerclops represses his memories? Yea...

"Which is why it's not my fault and I don't think I should be criticized :D" TBH I screamed with laughter at this scene solely because of the expression he made

...HE GAVE THE SKY PIRATES THE GEM CELL?! I mean he clearly wasn't thinking right when he did it BUT STILL?!

"Oh hey, I told you I'd use that weird elevator thing!" Dude you LITERALLY used it in Ultraclops. What are you talking about.

"If the Sky Pirates had the Gem Cell, they would've used it already!" That is a fair point ngl.

Umm...did Badgerclops give Adorabat a BOMB?!

Tbh if my friend woke me up in the middle of the night with weird-looking eyes and handed me a timer while saying something about an explosion I would DEFINITELY not go back to sleep afterwards...

I'm sorry, IS THE WHOLE VALLEY GONNA BLOW UP?! WHAT THE HELL DID HE MAKE?!

Mao wiping Badgerclops' tears I'm

A paper towel dispenser? Well that's not that bad - IS THAT A GIANT PAIR OF PANTS?!

Ooh it's not a shock collar it's a translator!! That makes a bit more sense... "I HAVE NO REMORSE OR CONCEPT OF EMPATHY!" ...if the monster doesn't have remorse or empathy how does it know what those words mean...

Badgerclops keeps telling Mao Mao & Adorabat not to criticize him...hmm...I wonder who criticized his inventions that made him that way...*cough* HIS MOM *cough*

"Are all your inventions this weird?!" "YOU'RE WEIRD!!"

IM SORRY DID BADGERCLOPS BUILD A DANCING MACHINE INTO MAO MAO'S BONES?! HIS BONES?! AND HE MADE ADORABAT A SECOND MEGAPEG?!

What in the absolute hell is going on dgaadhdagdadga

Okay but when Badgerclops clutched his head and started shaking when Mao Mao asked why he made those things...I FELT THAT IN MY HEART I FELT THAT IN MY SOUL

Ngl this scene really hit home for me cuz that's how I act when I have a breakdown...

The timer went off but nothing blew up - WAIT, IS THAT A REPLICA OF MECHA HOSSORAFFASNAKEARANG?!

"Initializing Totally Humane Knockout Procedure." (Proceeds to slam the Sheriff's Dept. into the ground) ajdajdgdad

Ooh...ohh they're on some sort of water park...ride...thing??

"And if I didn't want us to get out, then I made sure we couldn't...with super-strong shoe things." But there isn't any on Adorabat, can't she just squeeze herself out?

Ooh I'm getting Pirates of the Caribbean vibes

There's the Gem Cell, it must be powering the ride! Also the robotic arm slaps Mao's hand the same way Mao slaps Badgerclops' hand in Flyaway skkkk

"My amazing creativity is finally gonna destroy us all..." "Hey, at least we'll be destroyed together!" Fair point, fair point

The shoosh returneth

"I always loved inventing." So he was an inventor ever since he was little? Daww.

YOUNG BC IS SO ADORABLE!! He has a lil medical patch instead of an eyepatch which is def more accurate to real life...but what's the vest for? Protection in case he falls? A pressure stim?

That figure's def his mom since they rejected his ideas & he mentions she was mean to him. Also the theory that his mom's a villain seems a bit stronger since they straight-up hand him a tool kid + a set of blueprints with no regard to his safety...

"Also there was a bunch of other kids at school and some other people throughout my life who mocked me relentlessly." THEN WHY'D YOU TELL ADORABAT YOU COULDN'T RELATE TO HER WHEN SHE SAID NO ONE WANTED TO BE HER FRIEND?! (Also I noticed literally all the kids are other badgers, so I'm assuming Badgerclops grew up sheltered like Mao Mao did.)

So the Ultra Focus is basically a really weird coping mechanism to deal with all the abuse and bullying he went through? Holy fuckkk

"They only made fun of you because they were jealous. Happened to me my whole life!" Umm...

"Even the dance chip I surgically implanted in your brain?" Excuse me the dance chip that you WHAT

"I love you-" HE SAID IT 💗💓💗💓

"I'm finally around people who love and understand me..."

Wait did the cannon misfire? DID IT BLOW A HOLE IN THE GROUND?!

OH HE ACTUALLY DID CREATE AN ANIMATRONIC BAND?! I THOUGHT IT WAS A JOKE!!

"Take it away, Boss Hosstritch!" (Distorted garbling)

Oof Mao caught all the water

"We hope you all enjoyed being Badgerclops' friend." 💞💕💞💕

Not that anyone cares but I noticed there's a picture of some of the Sweetypies on the monitors, meaning 1. Badgerclops tested it out using them first, or 2. Badgerclops just likes those Sweetypies for whatever reason. Tho that makes me wonder why he'd choose Pinky of all people...

THE SKY PIRATES WERE INSIDE THE ANIMATRONICS THE WHOLE TIME?! THE MAN BEHIND THE SLAUGHTE

Zing Your Heart Out

Why are they giving out rotten sushi??

"HOW DARE YOU LAUGH AT ME EATING SOMETHING GROSSLY?!"

Ooh god Chester's gonna be super freaking annoying in this episode, I can feel it.

"What's blue and smells like red paint? Blue paint!" BAYBEY

Jesus what a prick. GET HIM MAO MAO

Ngl that background's really pretty...

Oooh no the Ruby Pure Heart's being weird again. Ooh no.

FUCK YEA ROAST HIM BABY - Did Adorabat's eyes turn purple because the Ruby Pure Heart gave her powers?

Oh so the siren in Badgerclops' robo-arm is a backup monster alarm?

More Sky Pirates - and the Pure Heart's being weird again...

"I'd tell you but despite your height it'd go right over your HEAD!" Asdfgghjjk

"For someone with two brains, you're not very BRIGHT!" EVEN BETTER

Kevin said he was raising money for a school trip, then for a trip to the hospital...which one is he raising money for?!

"SILENCE PANCAKE, LEST YE BE BUTTERED"

OOH NO SHE ATTACKED MAO AND BC

"IT FEELS LIKE THE WEIGHT OF ONE THOUSAND PLANETS!!"

"One second, I'm getting mad, and the next thing you know-" Is she freaking possessed??

Wait, is the Pure Heart TALKING to Adorabat?! How?!

Cluckins you don't ask people what's wrong with their eyeballs...even if there is something wrong with their eyeballs

"I CAN'T FEEL MY SELF-RESPECT!!"

The pure 'oh shit' on Marion's face when Adorabat turns to her

Half of the people she insulted showed up to her party! Didn't that mean she loved them?!

Oh god not this bitch again - nvm, thanks Adorabat

"Taking over the castle and ruling Pure Heart Valley forever does sound nice..." This is starting to remind me of that one AU where Adorabat turns evil, becomes the ruler of the Sky Pirates, then convinces them to kill Snugglemagne and becomes the queen of Pure Heart...she isn't gonna kill Snugglemagne, is she?

What did Adorabat tell Snugglemagne?! I WANNA KNO

Why is Pinky stealing teeth...reminds me of this

NO BC DON'T EAT THE TEETH

"I...hate myself! Therefore, I'm invincible!" So the trick to not getting your ego destroyed...is to not have an ego. Sounds reasonable.

"Your bug platter, my king?" Genderfluid Adorabat rights

"Mao Mao, your head looks like a CROW!" (Mao Mao caws) IT WAS A LIE HE ISN'T A CAT HE WAS A CROW THIS WHOLE TIME-

"It looks like a half-melted ice cream cone!!" That is...a strange way to describe your own neck...

"Well, I'm...bad (◡‿◡)" Kinda weird that the canonically depressed character can't even cleverly insult himself

...why does Adorabat's skin smell like old cantaloupe

OH SHE IS POSSESSED!!

HOLY SHIT MAO WAS GONNA FUCKING MURDER ADORABAT TO SAVE THE KINGDOM?! THANK GOD HE SAW HER JOKE BOOK, HOLY SHIT

Positivity outweighs negativity!

"WHERE DOES A 800 POUND GORILLA SIT?!" "Where ever it wants!◝(⁰▿⁰)◜" Curse you for making me laugh...

OOH NO THE JOKEBOOK! - Wait nvm Mao remembers Adorabat's jokes!

I think the reason they used that joke is because it represents Mao Mao and Adorabat - Adorabat is blue, and she wants to be like Mao Mao, who wears red. What is BLUE, and smells like (is similar to) RED paint?

YAAAY HE BROKE HER FREE FROM MIND CONTROL!! And did BC get Thanos snapped in the background?

"Thank goodness you're alright! We almost..." Fucking murdered you? Yea

"Might we have our crown and kingdom back, yes?"

"Sorry for being such a monster today." "You're a monster everyday." Is that a joke because she was today's villain, a reference to Sleeper Sofa or foreshadowing?

I hope Mao Mao and Badgerclops decide to investigate what's up with the Heart in Season Two, cause I highly doubt they'll let Adorabat getting fucking possessed go under the radar.

The visual gag of Mao trying to stomp out his ice cream cone like a cigarette is perfect. This is peak comedy everyone else go home

WHOOP CHESTER'S ASS GUYS

Strange Bedfellows

"So, your name is Boss Hosstrich, but you're not actually the boss?" How long did it take him to realize that

JFC Mao & Orangusnake are REALLY hellbent on killing each other huh...at least the deputies and the other Sky Pirates have common sense.

Hahaha nice Dragon Ball Z reference - and they both got crushed by the monster! Lovely.

...did Mao seriously think he died and went to heaven?

So does Orangusnake breathe through Tanner or do they both breathe independently & Coby can feel when Tanner can't?

Dang those skeletons remind me of the Steven Universe Future episode Growing Pains. And why is Lucky inside of Orangusnake? "THAT WAS MY LUNCH, JERK!" Ooh that's why.

"They're full of these tiny, little cracks or, as they're known in the medical field, 'whoopsie-boo-boos'." AGSADGASGADGDASG

Damn their skeletons are just gonna freaking evaporate huh...

"The doctor said I was very brave :D"

Ooh shit the Deputies and the other Sky Pirates met at the same elevator, are they gonna fight - nevermind, they're still calling time.

JESUS CHRIST ARE MAO & ORANGUSNAKE EVER GONNA STOP?!

"You don't have the guts!" "I have a million guts." That is...mildly concerning

"Yeah, I wanted to be a baker, before I realized I liked hurting people so much." Then why doesn't she just like, help Muffins or something?

Tbh I thought Ratarang was holding a gun and I'm glad it was just a weirdly wrapped banana

CONE OF SHAME. CONE OF SHAME. CONE OF SHAME.

"Aww, y'all shouldn't have - this is empty." "Just like my heart when you injure yourself!!" He loves him sm...💓💓

"Why didn't you bring me weapons?!" "Because this is a hospital, and I'm a good boy (◡‿◡ )"

"I really feel like this could be a turning point in their relationship." (Mao and Orangusnake proceed to try and kill each other again) *sigh*

Ngl Mao & Orangusnake constantly repeating themselves is getting super annoying.

That hospital bed beeping is giving me flashbacks to all the times I went to the hospital for seizures...

"You know y'all could live like this, like, all the time if you didn't go around hurting people, right?" "Pssh! Tsk-tsk, boy. You know I gots to hurt people." Uhh you guys should really listen to Badgerclops he knows what tf he's talking about

UUhh, whose egg is that? "MAMA" ASGagddahDh

Of course they had to land in freaking CEMENT to realize that maybe they shouldn't kill each other

Did Mao just deflate like a ballo- oh nvm there he go.

Boneless Mao. Boneless Mao.

And Mao saved Orangusnake!! By...breaking every bone in his body somehow.

"I'm the kind of hero who wants to save you so I can fight you later...at the right time and place." Just gonna file this along with the credit score scene from Perfect Couple in the 'Orangumao' folder.

Is Badgerclops duct taping Mao to the stretcher? I mean, at least he won't move & hurt himself again but geez

Tbh Zing would’ve made a better finale than this ep. At least it had a sequel hook

[calgoodie]

Calum’s character study. Just something I stole from AJ who stole it from Bay :))

BASIC

FULL NAME: Calum Taylor Goodrich

HOW IS IT PRONOUNCED?: Cal-um Tay-lor Good-rich

IS THERE A MEANING BEHIND IT?: No

NICKNAMES: Cal, Calcium Trashbin, Goodie

AGE: Twenty-One

DATE OF BIRTH: September 21st, 1998

ZODIAC SIGN: Virgo

PLACE OF BIRTH: Salinas, California

HOMETOWN: Carmel, California

LOCATION: Dayton, California  

ETHNICITY: Biracial (Mexican Hispanic, Swedish, Native American, French, English, and Iranian)

NATIONALITY: American

RELIGIOUS VIEWS: Agnostic

EDUCATION LEVEL: Senior in college 

OCCUPATION: Lighting/Audio tech at The Cage, coal runner at Tits, Clits, & Bong Hits

MENTAL CONDITIONS: Major Depression, PTSD, generalized anxiety 

PHYSICAL IMPAIRMENTS: None

ADDICTIONS: Marlboro reds, cocaine (when available), psychedelics 

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

HAIR COLOR: Brown

HAIR STYLE: Short, and lightly curled. Essentially this

EYES COLOR: Brown

CLOTHING STYLE: I’ve always said that Calum wears a lot of the same thing over and over. Lots of black t-shirts and dark jeans. He’s a lighting tech so as a techy wearing a lot of black is a must. That doesn’t change much when he’s working at TC&BH. In between, he likely wears a lot of jackets (hoodies, jean jacket, rain slickers, whatever in his closet). He has one suit that he wears on special occasions and that’s it. 

PERSONALITY

POSITIVE TRAITS: Creative, passionate, charming

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Indecisive, clingy, impulsive

WHAT DO THEY CONSIDER TO BE THE BEST AND THE WORST PART OF THEIR PERSONALITY?: Calum would consider the best part of his personality to be that he loves wholeheartedly and puts way more trust into people than he should. The worst part is that he is painfully indecisive and his anxiety often gets in his way of being able to confidently make a decision. 

ARE THEY MORE EXTROVERTED OR INTROVERTED?: He’s very much an ambivert.

ANY TALENTS?: He can blow smoke rings. Best pussy licker in town. Dems da facts. 

WHAT ARE THEIR FEARS?: Slides, rejection, losing people 

ANY ALLERGIES?: No

DO THEY HAVE ANY PHOBIAS?: monophobia

WHAT IS THEIR SOFT SPOT?: Animals, The Ew Crew, his romantic partners

LIST 3 PET-PEEVES THEY CAN’T STAND: Rap, people trying to speak in accents that aren’t their own, loud talking

PAST

BEST MEMORY: Joining an underground lobster smuggling ring with Evie

WORST MEMORY: Probably watching his dad get shot and then watching his attacker kill herself. 

BIGGEST SECRET: He had sex with Evie

BIGGEST WISH: To have a family with Callie that somehow includes Dayana

BIGGEST FEAR: Being alone

FIRST KISS: age 14 end of 8th grade. 

FIRST LOVE: Georgie Sanford 

CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND: Jane Ridley

CHILDHOOD PERSONALITY: 0-14 energetic, curious, athletic, outgoing. 14-18 solemn, angry, jealous, anxious mess  

ROMANCE & SEXUALITY

TURN ONS: Neck kisses, shoulder bites, soft voices, when Callie calls him daddy, being dominant, being dominated (we stan a switch), bondage, breath play, when someone brings him taco bell. 

TURN OFFS: Being yelled at, no lube, cock cages

MISCELLANEOUS

SPEAKING VOICE CLAIM: Benjamin Wadsworth’s voice

SINGING VOICE CLAIM: Jake Scott 

RELATIONSHIP WITH MOTHER: Calum never had a relationship with his mom. She did shortly after giving birth to him. 

MOTHER’S NAME: Tara Goodrich 

RELATIONSHIP WITH FATHER: Calum’s father raised him after his mom died. Their relationship was pretty good until his dad started dating Denise. After which both of them got heavily into drugs and what started as a lighthearted good time turned into night after night of heavy abuse. His father would torture and find various ways to make his life miserable until almost blinding him and sending him off to live with his aunt and uncle. 

FATHER’S NAME: Raymond Goodrich 

SIBLINGS: None but Max & Ainsley Slater are his cousins.

PETS: Moose (Dog), Blue (Dog), Tater Tot (Dog), Kevin Bacon (Tea cup pig), Crackers (opossum), Sir Woolington the third (Sheep), Kevin (fish), Tapas (dead shark in a knight costume) 

ROLE MODELS: Glen Bell, Hayden

FAVORITE PLACE: City Watertower, Highway 1

FAVORITE ANIMALS: Russian Sables 

FAVORITE BOOKS: The Sneeches, Cat and the Hat, The Lorax, Sea Glass Heart (as written by Callie Forsyth)

FAVORITE MOVIES: Where the Wild Things Are, Ponyo, Pokemon Mew Two Strikes Back

FAVORITE MUSIC: alternative rock, pop, country, really anything sad AF

FAVORITE FOOD: Taco Bell

QUIRKS

ARE THEY RIGHT OR LEFT HANDED?: Right Handed

WHAT’S A WORD THAT’S ALWAYS ON THEIR LIPS?: “Sit on my face.”

WHAT LANGUAGES DO THEY SPEAK?: English

DO THEY CURSE?: Yes

WHAT’S THEIR WORST HABIT(S)?: Cheating

DO THEY DRINK OR SMOKE? HOW FREQUENTLY?: Calum absolutely does both but not nearly as frequently as he used to after he started dating Callie. 

ARE THEY AN EARLY BIRD OR A NIGHT OWL?: A little bit of both. It depends on when he’s working. 

HOW TIDY IS THEIR ROOM?: His room is actually super well taken care of. Calum likes to keep his space clean. Easy to do since he doesn’t own much. 

HOW LONG TO THEY USUALLY TAKE GETTING READY?: Calum literally takes like 10 minutes to get ready unless he’s being DISTRACTED. 

[whenimgoodandready]

Remember Felix? That scrapped character from the concept stages of the show (Ladybug PV) who was the OG Cat Noir? That one character that Astruc thought was an “anime cliché”, the one type he thought wasn’t “strong” enough to be in a dynamic with Ladybug and said he would “never” ever come into the now complete show “Miraculous Ladybug”? Well, guess what? He’s here! Yea! Except he looks like sh*t! Nay! How bad is the “canon” Felix, I’ll tell ya:

*Felix-We (sorta kinda) know how time works in the show, right? I mean, it’s been like, yeah, a year since Emilie “disappeared” and during that time (according to Alya in “Feast”), it’s been months since the dynamic duo and the big bad birds showed up too. With the questioning timeline, the Agrestes are honoring the one year anniversary of when their matriarch “vanished” and Adriens friends (even the faux fox and retired bee) cheer him up by sending him videos on how much they care about him with Marinette privately confessing her love (yeah, I know he won’t see that and what does that make it? The 563rd time? Not so charming. Oh well, tough sh*t).

From the promos, we saw a “figure” of what looked to be Emilie herself coming back, but since this is impossible, (cuz we know why) the fandom guessed correctly that it was in fact her identical twin sister, Amelie Graham de Vanily. Wow! They actually pulled that into the show, huh? Can this get any more obvious? Anyways, the only difference I could see between the two sisters is that they wear different colored outfits (Emilie-Pale Pink (or is it White cuz of the whole Yin-Yang theme?), Amélie-Black. Granted, it’s cuz the latters in mourning from her husbands death the same time Emilie was comatosed) because I can’t say how their personalities are since all’s we got about Emilie was that she was “loving and caring”, but that’s not enough. Amélie here, she seemed “nice” until we saw how she transparently wanted back the Agrestes wedding rings as they “rightfully” belong to her side of the family. I’ll get to that soon.

Then we have, the moment we’ve been waiting for, the day that we never thought would happen, but it did! After all these years, The one who seemed to only exist in fanfics, brought back by popular demand! The man! The myth! The legend! Felix! (trumpets sound, but then untriumphantly fall flat).............I know.............it’s greatly disappointing (sigh). He differs SO MUCH more greatly than his mother and aunt compared to his PV. The eyes, the hair, the facial structure, the height, the age, I get the gist, I don’t need to explain it to you guys. I’m on the side where I prefer the PV Felix too.

Maybe this would go better if we compared the two Felixes. Let’s start with PV Felix. We only knew him from the concept promo years ago and were only given just a little info until we read up more about him and it was enough to give us an idea of his character. From what we saw, he was a stereotypical anime love interest type being all cold, reserved and distant from others like in the scenes where he was ignoring PV Marinette and in one art, using his powers to make an apple fall on her head. There was a reason for that. He was cursed with bad luck from his miraculous (in the developing stages for the show) and didn’t want to put any one in harms which made him go into a pissy mode. As his Cat Noir self, he was more wild and carefree with a sense of justice and he was happy to spend time with Ladybug. Some didn’t like that he tried to seduce her into kissing him to free himself from the ring, but we don’t know if it gave him the inability to tell her or the thought just never crossed his mind (shrugs). In the end, he seemed like he would’ve gone through character developement had the show been picked up by that format.

As for our “Miraculous Ladybug” Felix, he’s a “Mini Me” because just like Gabe, he too has changed drastically after the loss of a loved one. He was cold and distant to Adrien as well and messed with Plaggs cheese and he had his reason too, he was upset with Adrien for not attending his fathers funeral. However, he acted that way even after Adrien apologized for that! Adrien likes to see the good in rotten people such as Chloe and Lila and tries to excuse their spoiled selves to others. Chloe, he knows her mother walked out on her and she was his only friend growing up. Lila, she’s home alone all the time and he sympathies with that and believes she lies to get attention (which is the first reason). So now, with Felix, it’s cuz he was close with him in the beginning and he lost his father. Little does Adrien know, all three have gone to the dark side. Felix “changes” in the end after almost getting himself killed and makes amends with Adrien (I like to think it’s genuine). However, he still has a grudge with Gabe and pick pocked his ring, but only cuz his mother wanted it. The only thing they kept of “Canon Felix” was his name, clothes and the a**hole personality. Speaking of which, it comes out when he impersonates Adrien and badmouths his friends on his “cheer up” video offending Alya, Rose and Juleka to become the The Punishers Trio.

Oh! Don’t get me started on those three here! I’ve seen fans come up with theories on how they perceived them like for example, them being the equivalent of The Fates from Greek Mythology, but Noooooooooooooooo! That didn’t happen! Instead, what did we get!? Just their signature akumatized forms with a group name! Lame! (although, I did have a tiny theory Felix would side with them, so that part I liked) That just doubles the disappointment for this ep! To make matters worse, THIS WAS THE LAST EPISODE WE GOT FOR SEASON 3! UGH! Biggest.disappointment.for.the.show.ever! :P.

Although disappointing, considering the fandom had high expectations of Felix to be a CGI version of his PV self, there were at least a few interesting things good enough to get through with this. First, Gabriel almost told Adrien the dark truth about him being Paris’s public enemy #1 (maybe this would’ve gone better talking through a heartfelt “mono-a-mono” then traumatizing the poor guy, physically abusing him and even akumatizing him that lead to Kevin Costner’s, “Waterworld”). Then Adrien says he supports Gabenath and that he has his blessing (guess he’s been browsin’ Tumblr and discovering somethin’ goin’ on between his dad and his assistant huh?), but Gabe calls him a “Banana Haired Idiot and to go f**k himself”. Rude! Least somebody knows how to move on and seek happiness elsewhere instead of jumping into supervillainy, brainwashing innocent civilians and almost killing people all for a pair of magical jewelry from two teenagers to bring back his “dead” wife! On the subject of Nat, she can kick ass! So it’s not just as a supervillainess she can do that, she knew moves beforehand! Maybe she should double as Adriens bodyguard. Also, on the ship support, Luka happily ships Adrienette despite his own interest in Marinette cuz he too wants happiness for others. Finally, the best moment that helped get over the ep was the whole “No! means No!” scene between Ladybug and Felix (disguised as Adrien) where she decks him out for being a pig. Girl Power!💖✊ Good thing she knew Adrien was a gentlemen to not be so forward (and as a bonus, give the audience a “Take That!” to the show of how displeased we were of canon Felix). Thank you, Ladybug! Now onto the serious talk, The Graham de Vanily rings. What is it about them that Amelie wanted them back so badly!? It was never explained as that was just to get us hooked and eager for the reveal in Season 4, but just what is so intriguing about them? Are they of value? Like, worth a fortune? Is it an amok to expand on the “Adrien being a sentimonster” theory (and for that matter, Felix!?), Are they magic? Is there a secret Miracle Box we don’t know of where they’re a miraculous? WHAT!? Ugh! More unanswered questions! They just won’t end will they? Personally, I just thought it was low of Gabe to take his own wife’s ring as a replacement, WTF Dude!?

[pika-ace]

In the Heights AU-Watership Down

This is more of describing the characters rather than the story as a whole,I’ll get to that later. If you think anything can be improved just say so!:-)

((Ironically I started watching the original movie when you sent this to me XD; with that said, I LOVE this, it’s perfect!))

Usnavi and Sonny take the place of Hazel and Fiver respectively. Instead of being brothers,they are cousins of course. Sonny was taken in by Usnavi’s parents after his own parents were killed by predators. Usnavi’s parents later died of sickness, so both of them were looked after by Abuela,since they were still relatively young. The warren they live in is fairly big, but there isn’t much care from the group as a whole,more like individuals caring for other individuals. But there is a chief and the Owsla,like in any warren. Usnavi is really an average rabbit in this warren,but is very caring and protective,especially of Sonny. Of course,as the story progresses, he actually becomes a leader of the group,as Hazel does in the original story. Average size, but he talks very fast and excitedly, one of the few to really believe Sonny in the beginning. He’s also nervous and unconfident about his ability to be a chief, and he struggles to overcome his doubts. Abuela is a fairly old rabbit,still able to run if she needs to,but is up in years. She’s been in this particular warren since she was a very small kit with her mother. She doesn’t have a mate or kits,but instead looks after everyone, especially Usnavi and Sonny. She doesn’t represent anyone in the original story,but I think Abuela should be here. She also has to take breaks sometimes when traveling to the new warren, but will push herself so as not to slow down the group so much,much to Usnavi’s concern. Has great advice for practically anyone. Is the group storyteller as well,telling ancient tales of the Prince of rabbits. Sonny is Usnavi’s cousin, he’s been having bad dreams for a while now,but isn’t extremely concerned about what they could mean until he has a vision while out grazing with Usnavi. He sees that something very bad is about to happen to the warren,and tells Usnavi that they need to warn others and get out NOW. Unfortunately, not everyone believes him. I don’t think Sonny would be as frail and nervous as Fiver is as much,I think his personality would stay relatively the same,but it would be very stressful sometimes to see the stuff he sees,and worse,not know what it meant,so he is still very much able to have a breakdown about them. Usnavi and really, everyone, do what they can to help him through it. Benny is a member of the Owsla of the warren, much like an average guard or officer. Used to be a bit of a troublemaker when he was younger. Is much nicer than Bigwig in the original story,friends with Usnavi and Sonny, but he also wants to impress the chief and his superior officer, Kevin. So while he sometimes goofs off,he tries to do his job like he should. He let’s Usnavi and Sonny talk to the chief when they’re trying to warn of the trouble coming, but nearly gets his head bitten off by the chief for doing so. Annoyed by how he’s been treated, he disobeys Kevin to escape with the others and help them escape from the pursuing Owsla. Kevin is the Captain of the Owsla in the original warren. He’s strict,but doesn’t abuse his power,unlike some other officers in the warren,and can be kind. Took Benny under his wing when he was a young juvenile rabbit,to get him to stop causing trouble and to train him to become part of the Owsla. Tries to stop the group from leaving,but thanks to interference from Benny, is unsuccessful. Mates with Camila,they had a single kit named Nina,who unfortunately was snatched by a bird when she was still young. Still mourns her. He can be stubborn, but his mate is often his voice of reason when he gets this way. Willing to do anything for those that he loves. Fortunately able to escape the destruction with Camila,though he is injured in the process, and later joins up with the group. Camila is Kevin’s mate,and again is often his voice of reason when he gets stubborn, unfortunately this can still be a hard task sometimes. If you pushed her too far though,you will definitely know it! She’ll stand up to anyone if they’re acting Isn’t like a jerk including her mate. She’s still very sad at the loss of her daughter,but very motherly to everyone. You can be sure that she’ll make sure the others are eating enough. She stays at the warren with Kevin initially, not wanting to leave him,though she’s nervous about what Sonny said would happen. Kevin reassures her,but the destruction comes as predicted. Fortunately able to escape with Kevin,though they are the only ones who survive and Kevin is injured. Are able to rejoin the group at their later home. Daniela is the “gossip queen” of the warren. Seems to know practically everything about everyone, though how she’s knows some things is a mystery. She never gossips to hurt anyone though,just for something interesting to do. Friends with our main group,but a little skeptical of the claim that something bad was coming. Eh,she was getting a little bored here anyway, this should be interesting. Becomes really close friends with Carla when she joins the group from another warren. Carla was from a warren that was fed by humans. The food was bountiful and good quality, but the humans would also lay out snares to harvest rabbits from time to time. When the traveling group came,she befriended them in the few days they stayed. She tried to warn them of the snares,but was always interrupted or stopped before she could. Benny was later caught in a snare,and she helped to rescue him by preventing the enemy rabbits from stopping the group. Asks to be allowed to join the traveling group to their new home,as she doesn’t want to stay in such a dangerous place and is accepted in. Becomes really good friends especially with Daniela. Good at digging tunnels, that’s something she helps with at the new warren. I’m thinking that Pete can be one of those loner male rabbits that wasn’t really part of the warren,but still was around the territory. He’s a little bit of a troublemaker, will sneak in to steal some food from inside the territory, or something just to annoy everyone. Willing to trade some things he finds for good food. Friends with Sonny,Usnavi doesn’t like him(thinks he’s a bad influence). Has a good heart and very protective of those he cares about. Sees the group leaving, and after hearing why,decides to join them,much to Usnavi’s annoyance. One of the few to really believe Sonny,besides Usnavi and Abuela,at least at first. Very fast, instrumental in leading attacking crows away. Nina is the kit of Kevin and Camila. Very smart and hardworking,and it was thought that she could even be chief of the warren one day,but was snatched up by a hawk,and thought to be killed. Fortunately the hawk dropped her,and she landed in a bush. Was able to hide,and later found by a kind human who nursed her back to health. The human kept her as a pet rabbit in a hutch on their farm,protected from the cat by her cage. Was friends with Usnavi and Benny when she was younger, also would watch over Sonny when he was really little. Her farm happens to be nearby the down that the group comes too,and while passing by,Benny stops and looks at her, though not realizing it was her due to the distance. Would like to be free,but isn’t able to escape herself. Since they are looking for more members for the warren, a couple is sent to ask if she wants to join, made up of Kevin and Benny,both who are overjoyed to see her alive. They help her escape,though they barely escape the humans, who end up grazing Benny’s leg with a bullet. When they make it back to the down everyone is very happy to see her. Eventually falls in love with Benny,her father isn’t as opposed more like a mix of, “I just got you back why are you growing up so soon” and “Of all the bucks,you pick Benny!?” Gets captured by Efrafa while looking for herbs to help Benny’s wound. Vanessa is part of Efrafa,but not willingly. Wants to escape with others but the escape attempts always fail. She doesn’t give up hope however, and keeps trying, despite the punishment she and others receive. Meets Usnavi,Kevin,and Pete when they first meet up and are captured by Efrafa, and bonds with Usnavi especially. She helps them escape from the Efrafans,but cannot escape herself,to which Usnavi promises to her that they will come back to free her,and to not give up yet. She later meets Nina, who accidentally got captured while looking for certain herbs, and Benny,who has been sent as a double agent of sorts to “join” Efrafa. When they are able to,they make escape plans. Piragua Guy is the bird that the other rabbits meet who is injured. He’s much more friendly than Kehaar is in the story,and is very grateful to the rabbits for helping him. He’s a seagull from the docks a ways away,and talks a lot about some sort of food called “piragua” Apparently he nests near a human that makes piragua,and over time has given him little bits of left over ice and syrup, so he talks a lot about the different flavors.(I’m aware this would probably be bad for a real bird,but let’s pretend it isn’t bad in this world). I’m thinking maybe he’s named Eliseo? He helps with finding the Efrafan warren when the others are looking for more rabbits, and also helps them to escape by attacking their enemies. I’m thinking the one who could represent Blackavar would be Ruben from Do No Harm? He was raised in Efrafa but always resented it because of how they treated him and his family. He tries to escape only to be recaptured and his ears torn up a bit,then paraded around to be seen as an example. He joins later in the escape with Benny,Nina,Vanessa and any others who join. He’s a great tracker and a good friend to everyone, but is still traumatized from his time in Efrafa,something that his new friends try to help him through. El-ahrairah is represented by Hamilton. He’s the Prince of the rabbits, and the one who’s stories have been passed down from generation to generation. He still has those “Icarus” qualities, though he does everything for his family and people. They became too numerous, and he refused to control his people,so this led to the creation of the thousand enemies to the rabbits. But they were given the abilities to run and dig to escape and survive as a species. 

[withinthescripts]

Season 3, Reel 2: August 13, 1953

[tape recorder turns on]

Amy, call Dr. Jefferson and get me an appointment on Thursday or Friday early morning.

Vivi and I found an injured cat and we’d like to get it fixed. Fixed meaning “spayed”, but I suppose also meaning “repaired”. See if Dr. Jefferson can repair and spay our new cat.

Also, pick up a square fabric about 30 x 30 centimeters, something orange, preferably patterned, an argyle or stencil print, as well as some dark thread, maroon or violet. Once you did that, fold the square into a bandana and embroider the name “Constance” onto the back part of the bandana. We named the cat Constance. Also Amy, can you print that name in script? In cursive where each letter elegantly sweeps onto the next. Don’t fret if you can’t do that, just do it in print, I guess. Thanks.

Letter from the office of Michael Witten on the 13th of August, 1953 to Ursula Lindholm, Director of Communications, Department of Global Trade, European office. Dear Director Lindholm. Thank you for your reply to my question about personnel restructuring. Your concerns about my “poking around” are valid, but rest assured that this is not an inquisition or a judgment, simply curiosity. Amy, don’t write “poking around”, say uh, say “inquiries”. Always mean what you say, but rarely say what you mean.

It is a brave new and unincorporated world out there, and we’re all doing our best to set about a new, less destructive course while implementing an entirely novel set of rules. If you and your office are finding success in reorganization, I certainly wanna know about it. We are not business, Director Lindholm, we are government. We are a truism, a monolith, many roots of the same tree. This is not competition, but collaboration. That being said, I apologize if I pressed too hard into your business and the goings on of your new Regional Director of Trade, Karen Roberts. Karen and I know each other peripherally through Global Secretary of Trade, Vishwathi Ramadoss, my direct supervisor.

Karen, I believe, testified against Secretary Ramadoss during preliminary hearings about domestic espionage in Vancouver last year, even though there were no fucking documents to suggest any of the allegations were true, Ursula, and even if they were, the things Secretary Ramadoss could have revealed about Karen, if there were any domestic spying on businesses, would have destroyed her career. Secretary Ramadoss was using computational machines to record basic data on commerce. It’s just numbers to help with global trade, which is Vishwathi Ramadoss’ fucking job over the whole fucking planet. So yeah, I’m a bit goddamned concerned about Karen Roberts.

Amy, obviously delete all of that, just cut it after the part where I said that I knew Karen. But seriously, Vishwathi was organizing data into charts about a birthplace, age, gender and known health records. The Pacific Northwest pissed themselves that Vishwathi was keeping notes on parents’ names. Oh, what if the citizens find out and try to reconnect with their parents? We don’t allow parents anymore – spare me, she only wrote down the parents’ names in cases where people were direct descendants of the last generation, so they’d already know. It was everything over nothing!

By the way, were you not able to find any of the files from our work in Vancouver? Where was I?

If my tone was aggressive, then I apologize. Ursula, it was not my intent, I would never wanna make a colleague feel less than on equal ground. As I understand it, Karen Roberts relocated the entire Western European Labor Department into the Communications Office. Congratulations on the increased resources! I hope you got a raise.

I wish there were a way to suggest this a joke. Ursula doesn’t seem to have any sense of humor. Her letter was what, two sentences? I’m surprised she didn’t carve it directly into a block of ice.

Amy, can you just draw a smilie face after my last comment? I’m not kidding.

But most of my questions went unanswered. Perhaps you’re pressed for time and if so, please let me know my best approach to Karen Roberts herself. She hasn’t returned my calls or letters. First, what is to become of regulatory protections for workers? The North and Baltic Seas are filled with fishing ships, there are mines and textile factories all over the continent. Who is protecting workers from abuse if the entire region has no labor department? You can’t build a society without a well treated work force.

Second, Karen Roberts owned the largest construction firm along the Gulf of Mexico. Upon taking a government job, did she sell her interests in KR Development, Inc.? Calls to her Houston office suggest to me she has not. This is a violation of the new society ethics bylaws for bureaucrats. If she still owns any part of KR while administering all of Europe’s trade, then this is in direct conflict with our new society’s core values for governmental leadership. This is not a threat, but a fact. Also, it is a threat.

Don’t write that part. Uh, no, write it but then draw another smilie face. That was definitely a joke, no threats in letters Amy, you know that.

I especially encourage you to look into the matter of weapons development along the old Mexican border. Karen’s factories were former arms manufacturing sites. Of course, KR Development now makes its business dismantling war machines for use in new, non-military construction. They have their slogan “swords to ploughshares”, of course. But in my working with Karen on previous North American reconstruction projects, there were persistent rumours that southern militias were being armed by weapons still being manufactured by KR. I have no physical evidence of this and I would never share it publicly, but the European people will not be happy if some journalist finds this proof. My North American people will certainly not be happy, which will make me even more unhappy, and Global Secretary of Trade Vishwathi Ramadoss will be the least happy of us all.

Of course, my staff member Amy Castillo was not able to dig up anything about current weapons production, and if she cannot find anything then I’m sure no one can. You didn’t, right Amy?

So perhaps we have no worries at all. I merely encourage you to do your own research into your new head of trade. Please keep me informed on this matter.

Finally, I was told someone from your office has shut down the production of a play called “Last Night We Were the Wind” at the Olympia in Dublin. I don’t mean to suggest that you are practicing censorship, but the account I heard had to do with the playwright Neve Connolly’s open critique of the new society, that your office found the play, quote, “grotesquely retrospect”. I understand that art can be disruptive and provocative, and we are all trying to build public and global confidence in our new society, but this is why a department of labor or culture exists, to work with artist to find the right message. Amy, underline “right”.

It should be a friendly discourse between government and author, not an indifferent one, as is the way with the “last” generation, nor as in this alleged case, an authoritarian one. Plus we’re only one year removed from the Removal of Nations Act, which forced England to finally cede imperial claims over Ireland, so I’m not sure a London office shutting down a play in Dublin goes over too well. There may be no more borders, but there are a fucking lot of feelings. A-amy, streamline that. Perhaps there were other problems related to labor or finances I’m unaware of, but please do enlighten me on the reasons for silencing a young artist.

Thank you for your time and input. Despite my uh pointed questions, please know that I’m only interested in learning more about what has been effective for your region. Life is nothing if not for learning.

Sincerely, Michael Witten, Director of et cetera et cetera.

[tape recorder turns off] [ads] [tape recorder turns on]

Amy, on second thought, if you can’t embroider a nice cursive script, please just find a tailor or something to teach you. I dunno, figure it out. I’m positive you can figure it out. I think you said you were learning pottery or woodworking? I should remember these things. It was something crafty, so you’ll pick this up in no time.

I hope you realize how much I appreciate your work, Amy. I’m aware that I can be abrupt, and I probably don’t acknowledge your efforts enough, but believe me, they are appreciated. When I worked as Head of the Midwest Region before I took this job, I knew the location of every file, every book, every paperclip in my office. I had to, I had a secretary oh god, Kevin Prince. He was dreadful. I had to edit every letter he transcribed, double check his document organization. I even listened in on some of the phone calls I told him to make. I liked how confident I was in every detail of what I did, but I got home at nine or ten PM most nights. Vivian was not happy eating alone. I felt like I was stacking teacups, each a different size every day, one on top of the other, each one taking more time than the last. Carefully looking at direction, curve, weight, keeping the center vertical… I knew it wouldn’t take long for it all to collapse. But then by miracle, I was selected to take over this office, and here you were.

And you’re everything Kevin was not. Organized and detailed, on time. My first boss at the Textile Distribution Center in Sioux City gave me only one rule: “if you receive an order, ship it.” It’s a deceptively difficult rule. I know almost no one including myself who can follow this 100 per cent of the time. If you receive an order, ship it.

I know we don’t work in shipping and fulfilment here, Amy, but everything I ask of you, you do immediately and effectively. I don’t know where anything is or how you have it all filed, but I’m home by six every night. And when I ask you to dig up old records on some project or meeting, I’ve got a tidy stack on my desk at the end of the day. Except Vancouver. I’m assuming those were lost or we just never had them?

I used to think leadership was managing every aspect of an underling’s work, but I realize leadership is quietly accepting that people will do everything correctly and allowing them to figure out when they’re wrong. Or you’re just really remarkable. Either way, Vivian appreciates you more than you know. We should have you over for dinner some night. We’ve worked together for how many years now? Why hasn’t this happened? Let’s make this happen.

Letter from of the office of Michael Witten on the 18th of August 1953 to Bernice Jones, Minister for Culture, North American region.

Dear Bernice, it was fantastic having you and Miguel for dinner this weekend. I always enjoy your company and Vivi and I truly loved the wine you brought. We never had a marble wine before. So crisp and smooth, but with a sweet nose, like someone eating a passion fruit next to you while you touch cold marble swatches. And please thank Miguel for the wonderful gift of music. I’m listening to the record right now*, Vivi has turned me on to jazz. I don’t know if I enjoy it, but I uh appreciate it. It’s like music but with a puzzle in it. Apparently there are some jazz clubs right here in Chicago.

* there’s no music in the background

You mentioned your youth arts initiatives in Oaxaca and I was intrigued. While the Department of Global Trade does not directly oversee artistic funding, we certainly oversee global trade, whatever you think that last word means. Perhaps there’s room for a collaboration here between our offices. As you know, Vivi is an avid collector of modern art. You noted with a touch of awe the original Claudia Atieno in our den, and I’ve never seen Vivi light up quite like that. [chuckles] With all the accountants and lawyers who come through our doors, you can imagine how rare it is to find a dinner guest who can recognize the care and attention Vivi puts into her collection.

After your visit, Vivi and I discussed how we can do more to help young artists. Or forget young, artists in general. Why single out only the inexperienced? What of those in between training and fame who need our help most? Of course we donate and make purchases where we can, but money only goes so far.

You may need to burn this letter after I tell you this, but our department is swimming in money. I can’t put resources toward a North American gallery or opera or (-) [0:16:30], but I could certainly put money toward a global artistic exchange. Can you imagine teaching the Cahto language in (Canberra), or singing Mariachi in Marrakesh, or performing Neve Connolly in London? I think the people of London would adore such a dynamic new writer.

Connolly is controversial, yes, what with her depictions of traditional family roles and the challenge this presents the new generations of people raised to reject the tribalism of family. But she’s a brilliant young playwright. You know her work, she was brought to speak at Tulane last year through a grant from your office.

The Palladium in London is dark right now. The West End is starving for theatre. We could produce a Neve Connolly play there with a North American production team and Dublin actors. I’m not sure if you’ve read her play “The Topaz Window”, but it’s truly a masterpiece. It centers around an extraordinary painting of mysterious origin that begins to drive a wedge between a previously close family. I won’t spoil it, but the denouement is truly shocking.

Anyway, if someone were to stage that, I’m sure we could commission a well regarded artist to provide the painting in question, maybe even Claudia Atieno herself. I know an art collector named Archie McPherson who would get us in touch with her.

This is truly cultural and global trade, I’m positive our European offices will be pleased. No, make that “delighted”, Amy.

I’ll have my secretary Amy send you a full proposal and budget within a week. I look forward to discussing this with you soon, give my love to Miguel, all the best, Mikey.

[tape recorder turns on]

Amy, write a letter to Vishwathi. 20th August, 1953.

Dear Secretary Ramadoss, I’m pleased to hear you agree with me about the European trade offices. I, too, was alarmed to hear that Karen Roberts had disbanded her labor department, but not surprised. As you saw in my memorandum, she has a long history of disrespect towards workers, going back to her time in Houston. My contact, Ursula Lindholm in the Communications offices in Europe, is reluctant to share many details with me, so I’m hoping to make new connections with the European Trade Department employees. A former colleague of mine from my old job in St. Louis, Leena Mäkinen is living in Helsinki. She would be interested in a move to the Oslo offices. Would you be willing to write a recommendation for her? I think Leena could provide some information that Ursula is certainly unwilling to share. Not a spy, really but a um… You know, scratch that, let’s not be dramatic.

I know you do not know her, and I do not want to seem flippant about professional ethics, but as you once told me, act first, argue semantics later. The staff and I hope you can visit Chicago again soon. Fall is beautiful here, we’ll take you to the lake. Also the Field Museum finally reopened last month. They only recovered a quarter of their collection from the Great Reckoning, but many museums were far lass fortunate.

Amy, remove the paragraphs mentioning Leena Mäkinen from this letter. I think it’s better not to involve the secretary in this. Let’s go with this.

Perhaps you can use your influence to find out whether Karen has sold off her interest in KR development, and what they plan on doing to manage labor, now that they’ve gutted the department. Thank you again for your attention in this manner. Sincerely, Michael Witten, North America.

[tape recorder turns off]

Jeffrey Cranor: Within the Wires is a production of Night Vale Presents. It is written by Jeffrey Cranor and Janina Matthewson, with original music by Mary Epworth. Find more of Mary’s music at maryepworth.com. The voice of Michael Witten is Lee LeBreton. You can support our show and get exclusive episodes and other cool things at patreon.com/withinthewires.

OK, our time is done. It’s you time now. Time to head to happy hour after a long day of work at the [yoga tournament], to enjoy a pint of [tamarin sauce] with your friend [Jean Valjean].

[smokeybrand]

Flashpoint

So these Flash leaks, man? Yeesh. I get what DC is trying to do and i definitely commend them for it because the Snyderverse is a goddamn mess, but we just saw Marvel clean up Sony's mess, and "fix" their Spider-Man in the process, with the excellent No Way Home. Like, Feige made me like a version of One More Day. I HATE One More Day. My confidence in WB doing the same thing is just not there. I actually like Flashpoint, even if it is responsible for the nu52, but this sh*t they got slated for release next year? That nonsense sounds like a goddamn mess, man. I don't understand how Marvel Studios, a film company that's been around for less than thirty years, can make better films than Warner Bros., one that has been around for damn near a hundred. How is that possible? More than that, and the point of this essay, the sh*t stars Ezra Miller. Now, i like Miller as an actor. I think he has a unique personality and distinct talent for his craft. If you’ve only ever seen him in the Flash role, you’re missing out. Check out We Need to Talk about Kevin. F*cking chilling performance. Even more so now that this clown has shown us who he really is.

Ezra Miller is out of his f*cking mind. I just read about how he got arrested in a bar, in the middle of the day, for disorderly in Hawaii. He choke slammed a female fan, on camera, like, last year. Also, apparently, he committed a home invasion? What the f*ck, dude? How is this guy still getting work? How does he, not only get to keep the Flash role, but have so much sway in that production, he can veto creative choices? I’m sitting here reading these articles and am flabbergasted because he’s out here committing actual, documented, felonies and there is nothing happening to him, cats are actually carrying water for this terrible f*cking behavior, but Johnny Depp gets his finger cut off and dude gets the boot from Fantastic Beasts? I mean, Depp “falls into doorknobs” and all of a sudden, Grindlewald looks a lot like Hannibal Lecter, you know what I mean? Personally, I think Mads Mikkelsen is a much better fit for that role but I digress. Depp gets his whole ass career clapped over being a legitimate domestic abuse victim, but Ezra RKOs a fan in the street and no one does a goddamn thing? Word?

I shouldn’t be surprised. I’m not really surprised. Amber Heard is still Mera and she’s the one who sh*t in Johnny’s bed so, you know, why would Ezra see any semblance of consequence for his actions? That chick is a whole ass virus who the cast hate and nothing. Chick has no chemistry with Mamoa and there is a perfect replacement just waiting in the wings. Pretty sure Khaleesi can pull off a Queen of Atlantis with no problem. Plus, redhead Emilia Clarke? Sign me the f*ck up! Honestly, there are rumors that the WB/Discovery executives are having panic meetings about Ezra but so what? Fantastic Beasts is still coming out. Flash is already having test screenings. These cats are going to PR the sh*t out of this, starting with the flick being pushed back fifteen months. That’s not to polish effects or add stuff in re-shoots, it’s so you forget Ezra Miller is a violent psychopath before this pivotal film for the rest of the DC cinematic slate drops. Personally, I don't even know why they cast miller in the first place. Grant Gustin exists. Just multiverse his ass into the DCEU. Mans is wasted in the shambling corpse called Arrowverse.

[fivepercentgodsandearths]

9 Reaches To Decode Black Panther **SPOILERS ALERT**   After seeing the Black Panther film I knew I had to pen a think piece to share what I saw. Not to debate the pros or cons of seeing it but to share with those who did see it some deeper insight into the symbolism, folklore and science throughout the film. Even though Black Panther is a 1966 comic developed by a couple of Jewish guys, Stan Lee and Jack Kirby, when Christopher Priest, a black man, began writing the Black Panther comic in 1998, this character served as the inspiration behind the Marvel Studios film Black Panther. The story is about T'Challa, heir to a mythical NE African throne in the land of Wakanda; an isolated society comprised of 18 tribes who for centuries has possessed an alien element called vibranium that they acquired from a fallen meteor. Nearly indestructible and one of the most powerful substances on the planet, vibranium is used to create wealth and the highest technological advances known to humans. It is also the element that was used to forge Captain America's shield. Wisely hidden away from the outside world, the Black Panther and his council of tribal of elders known as the Taifa Ngao, have primarily kept Wakanda safe and free from outside influence for the majority of their existence. Like the Five Percent as in Wakandan culture, education or knowledge is viewed as a fundamental building block of its nation. As all things change, Wakandan culture is eventually discovered and the 10% [world’s powers] plot to pillage their vibranium. T’Challa’s father T'Chaka, the current Black Panther and King of Wakanda, is assassinated at the UN thus forcing T’Challa to step up and lead his people as the next Black Panther. The film covers his transition into that role and the challenges, literally, that come along with it. Before I get into the symbolism, folklore and science throughout the film, I think I need to give some context into why Black Panther Ain't Nuthing Ta F' Wit. First and foremost he is wealthier than any superhero in the DC or Marvel Universes. In other words, he's got more paper than Bruce Wayne, Tony Starks and Floyd Mayweather combined, and he has actual superpowers. Black Panther has super strength, psychic abilities, invisibility, super stamina, clairvoyance, master acrobat, healing factors, necromancy and other powers. If you, and especially the youth around you, have never really checked out the Black Panther comic I would encourage you to. If it's not you, what other fictional or nonfictional images of power are youth exposed to? If you cannot think of any, don't complain; either create them or support those who are creating them. Alright, here are some things I peeped in the Black Panther film that I think are worthy of sharing with you: 1. For my Yonians, central to the Wakandan culture was the worship of the Neteru Bast. Bast, in her ancient Kemetic zoomorphic form, is the symbol of the cat; what some people, particularly men, call a p*ssy. Partly symbolizing a protectress, Bast is the reasoning behind the powerful woman-led Dora Milaje warriors. This is also why present day f*ckboys seek to shack up with Bast women and take advantage of her Okoye loyalty. The heart-shaped sacred herb, a symbol of Bast's transferred power that enhances a person's strength, mobility, stamina, endurance and instincts, resembled a yoni and was cultivated in the subterranean regions of Wakanda... 2. A 'Monger' is a dealer or trader. 'Erik' is a Norse or Proto-Germanic name which means eternal ruler. Thus Erik Killmonger means "an eternal ruler who deals death." As a sexual innuendo of his toxic masculinity, his notches  for "bodies" [body counts] went well beyond his belt and covered his entire upper body. He clearly had no love for women as shown by the non-relationship with his mother, shooting his Bonnie & Clyde companion in the head, choking out a elder caretaker of the heart-shaped herb and demanding that she burn its sacred garden, slitting the throat of one of the Dora Milaje, slicing Nakia across her leg and almost murdering Shuri. This is what he did, yet many women have still shown sympathy for Killmonger's actions. "I understand what he was trying to do" I've heard many women say, "to fight for oppressed people" -even though there was no tangible evidence of him working with oppressed people, which includes women. This helped me better understand why some women, not all women, rationalize staying in abusive relationships, keep dudes around because the sex is Killmonger and follow conscious community miscreants; Stockholm syndrome. Some of us love words and potential yet fail to acknowledge what folks are actually doing. I've seen the argument that Killmonger is the result of being left in America, disconnected from his people, and it's not his fault. I agree that abandonment was not his fault and Killmonger's feelings about that family dysfunction were understandable; many black people in the wilderness of North America can relate and feel the same way. Yet his resolve with those feelings, as an eternal ruler who deals death, was not wise nor did it make him a hero. From his own mouth he prided himself on his assimilation into "the white man's" society, via his military experience, and he brought those colonialist ways to Wakanda. King T'Chaka was wrong for abandoning Killmonger as a child in America and Killmonger was wrong for how he handled that disappointment, as an adult, with his family and people. We need warriors with the aggression and passion of a Killmonger, especially as a Border tribesman, but not sitting on no throne. His inconsideration for other men and insensitivity to women, children and the society at large were qualities of a self appointed tyrant who rules by fear, not the qualities of a just and true King. Killmonger's "Bury me in the ocean with my ancestors who jumped from ships, cause they knew death was better than bondage" quote and other revolutionary words were noble but I didn't see one act that demonstrated his capacity to be a loving Husband [King], a Father raising children [successors to the throne] with integrity and a Man of his people wisely working with his counsel of elders. 3. The burial ritual to connect with Wakandan ancestors and inherit the Bastian power of the Black Panther is similar to the Recapitulation technique some warriors in indigenous tribes use to also connect with their ancestral past and gain clarity of their life purpose. In Freemasonic lore it's also symbolic to the shallow grave the Master Architect Hiram Abiff was buried in before he was raised with a lion's paw grip. After you select an appropriate burial spot, usually among trees and in an isolated area beyond human disruption, a shallow grave is dug East [head] to West [feet] about 2 feet deep that's a little longer and wider than ones body. Next layer the bottom with a blanket. After that search the area for sticks and large leaves to cover the tomb that stops the soil from filtering through. You start covering the grave from the bottom to the top and once it's almost complete you climb in and finish covering it as you lay inside leaving a small hole for air. Fasting is important before you do it and the length of time you remain varies. I've done it for 24 hours and the best time to leave the grave is sunrise or sunset. The whole idea is to meditate on our demise as a form of detachment from the world. An earthen self-deprivation chamber, this is literally a place to reflect upon the past and present life and what they can do in the future. 4. M'Baku, King of the Jabari Tribe, in the comic he is the leader of the White Gorilla Cult because he gained his superhuman powers by killing a white gorilla, bathing in its blood, eating its flesh, and then he took on the name Man-Ape. The M'Baku line, "If you say one more word, I'll feed you to my children! I'm kidding. We're vegetarians" in the film was a play on that comic book backstory. Although the mountain ranges M'Baku and his tribe inhabit is nowhere near the Caucasus Mountains, I found it interesting that pre-Farrakhanian Nation of Islam members under the Honorable Elijah Muhammad [THEM] openly taught that white people [devils] that were exiled from our homeland and living in the caves tried to graft themselves back into the original black man. In the process some became [white] gorillas. In fact, he taught that the entire monkey family are from the 2,000 year history of the white race living in the Caucasus Mountains. Although M'Baku carried a shillelagh, THEM also taught that the guards of these mountain boarders kept weapons [flaming swords] to stop these humanoids from coming back among the original people. The above image is from the first page of the 1998 Black Panther comic by Christopher Priest where Agent Ross remarks that, "ZURI was into his THIRD re-telling of how the great god T’Chaka ran the evil white devils out from their ancient homeland." Naw I don't think Stan Lee, Ryan Coogler & Joe Robert Cole drew these parallels and wrote that. Christopher Priest obviously had knowledge of this and I could see the parallels. 5. After Get Out Chris Washington got WOKE, changed his gubment name to W'Kabi and started a rhinoceros farm on the fringes of Wakanda as leader of the Boarder tribe. After Rose 'Beckyed' him it's obvious he ain't been right since.   6. Tobias Whale is Killmonger's uncle; Killmonger's mother's brother. Whale developed a hatred for Black Lightning because N'Jobu reminded him of the Wakandans and the metahuman Black Panther who exiled albinos to the lands where they were hunted, killed and their bones ground up as a power potion, as Lady Eve reminded him. Green Light is a synthetic form of vibranium and when Quentin caught wind of what Killmonger was doing he came back to the Chi to re-stake his claim as a Frank Lucas-like vibranium plug for the 100. Lastly, Kevin was around at the end of the film asking T'Challa questions about his ship because he was with his family in Cali who happened to stay in the hood Killmonger grew up in. Kevin was out there laying low after shooting Ronnie. 7. When it comes to even just conceptualizing a Wakandian society, one of the downfalls of many men is trying to f*ck the Nakia's, Okoye's, Ayo's, Shuri's and Xoliswa's on their team instead of working with them. One of the downfalls of many women is allowing them to. 8. I loved seeing all of the Wakanda inspired regalia at the Black Panther movie premieres around the country. I haven't seen it since Kwanzaa and I look forward to seeing it again during Juneteenth. 9. Black Panther had the fifth biggest opening of all time and broke box office records during its opening weekend. It's the largest opening for a black Director, the second biggest opening for a Marvel Studios film and currently the #1 RATED FILM OF ALL TIME via Rotten Tomatoes. Not only does this demonstrate the earning potential of films told from our perspective but this, along with Get Out, is reshaping the false narrative that black themed films not doing box office numbers domestically and internationally. While some may see this as production houses and film companies becoming more open to our pitched ideas and potential larger pay dates, I see it as a watershed moment of self reliance and cooperative economics. Many of us already know our buying power as a black community, but willfully this galvanizes us to do more, culturally and artistically. Some felt as though nothing could top the response of Get Out, but here we have it, and this film won't be the last. Peace, Saladin Black Panther stars Chadwick Boseman, Michael B. Jordan, Lupita Nyong'o, Danai Gurira, Martin Freeman, Daniel Kaluuya, Letitia Wright and Winston Duke, with Angela Bassett, Forest Whitaker and Andy Serkis. The film is directed by Ryan Coogler and produced by Kevin Feige with Louis D’Esposito, Victoria Alonso, Nate Moore, Jeffrey Chernov and Stan Lee serving as executive producers. Ryan Coogler & Joe Robert Cole wrote the screenplay.

http://atlantisschool.blogspot.com/2018/02/9-reaches-to-decode-black-panther.html

[newagesispage]

                                                                      APRIL    2021

THE RIB PAGE

*****

The Grammy’s held their ceremony. Bla Bla.. Noah Cyrus wore a popcorn dress.  Harry Styles was hot as hell. Dua Lipa, Cynthia Erivo, Ingrid Andress and Megan Thee Stallion were my best dressed. Cudos to Bruno Mars and Anderson Paak for their little Richard tribute!! Hooray for Tiffany Haddish!!

*****

The Oscar noms are out and Mank ran away with the most. Woo Hoo! The trial of the Chicago 7, Nomadland and Gary Oldman were all nominated. I was surprised that One night in Miami did not get more love but hooray for Leslie Odom Jr. I was thrilled for Crip Camp and My Octopus Teacher which are about the best movies of the year but sad not to see All in: Fight for democracy. I would bet on Ma Rainey’s black bottom for costmes!!  Glenn Close has now been nominated 8 times with no wins.  Winners will be announced on April 25.

*****

The Torlonia exhibit may soon be coming to America. I can’t wait!! The ancient Greek and Roman marble sculptures are one of the greatest private collections.

*****

Here comes the George Floyd trial! The testimony gets worse everyday.

*****

All hail Lady Dynamite!!!! Maria Bamford just gets better with age.

*****

The art collective behind the “Satan shoes” has been sued by Nike. The lil’ Nas X 666 shoes sold out but Nike claims trademark infringement. Nike did not design or release them and does not endorse them. They are really black and red air max 97 sneakers. The company, MSCHF modified them as they did in 2019 with the “Jesus shoes.” I do not think they were sued for that. Fair?? I say make your own!!

*****

A guy named Brian created his own video store in his basement during the quarantine.  He is not the first but it is bringing national attention.

*****

Volkswagon pulled an IHOP and fooled the media into thinking they were changing their name to Voltswagon. They claimed they are highlighting the electric car but it was just a joke. Why do these companies think they are so clever?? They just end up looking ridic!! VW seemed perplexed that people did not react all that well to the fake out.

*****

The Catholic Church does not want to bless same sex marriages. The announcement caused Elton John to let us know that the Church had invested in the movie, Rocketman. The Church won’t comment but it has since been confirmed that they invested 1.2 mil.

*****

Why would they think we wouldn’t notice how bad they are trying to fuck the voters?  Coca cola is one of the big funders in this endeavor to take away rights. ** Hooray for the house for their sweeping election reform bill.

*****

How the fuck did Ron Johnson get elected? Can we stop it with electing the stupid people?

*****

The Dr. Seuss family and the publishers decided to pull 6 books from print. The books did not sell well and had a few racist pages so good riddance. That is just good business. I don’t understand the big deal.

*****

Why is Piers Morgan such a dick? I do not know anyone that is surprised about the Sharon Osbourne story. I don’t know if I have ever heard a good story about her. She is now out at the Talk with a reported 7 figure settlement to leave.** I don’t know if the cancel is right or wrong but hearing less from Piers and Sharon sounds like a more peaceful world. They just always struck me as rich, unhappy people.

*****

Scary Clown 45 has asked that supporters send $ directly to him and not to the GOP. ** Lara Trump, chairwoman of a dog charity are under scrutiny for bringing us another scam.** Fauci flattered Trump into telling people to get vaccinated.

*****

Don Cheadle will narrate the new Wonder Years.

*****

It feels like the “Bridge era”.  Bridgerton, Phoebe Waller- Bridge and Phoebe Bridgers are having a moment. Every so often there seems to be these famous names with familiarity that come in cycles. There was all the Seth’s and all the Kristen variations and of course, Dermot and Dylan.

*****

Heard the best porn name on James Corden: Bonkers Eddie.

*****

This month in sex offender news: Deshawn Watson has been accused of sexual assault.** Alabama Shakes drummer Steven Johnson was arrested for child abuse.** I see people also talking again about a 2018 revelation. It is said that Brendan Fraser’s career was sabotaged after being sexually assaulted by the ex- President of the Hollywood foreign press, Philip Berk in 2003. In Berk’s memoir, he claims it was a ‘joke.” Another reason he was out of work was the surgeries after the Mummy movies. The stunt work caused him to have a laminectomy, partial knee replacement, back and vocal cord surgeries over a 7 year period.

*****

Hackers broke into Tesla with live footage from the factory floors. There have been large outbreaks from the Tesla plants.

*****

Please stop admiring people who would kill you for profit. – Mike Monteiro

*****

Biden once told Putin that he had no soul and Putin apparently told him, “We understand each other. “ Biden also called him a killer.

*****

Death penalty for abortion? Yea, that makes sense.

*****

Bats don’t recognize borders and China won’t let anyone really know where it all began.  Bat dung collectors test samples all the time. Thus far they have not had one positive test.  The World Health Organization is in a quandary about their report because of China’s lack of compliance.

*****

Are U ready for debauchery and fun?? I After all the restraints that SOME of us have shown, I predict that 100 years after the Roaring 20’s, they will be back with a vengeance. The crazies who want all to be normal already.. wait!! Save lives and after the vaccines are all handed out, look out!!!** Wouldn’t it be funny to put that old 20’s type narration over today’s headlines? **Kudos to the wrestlers in Mexico who were forcing masks on people.** Before the end od March, I have since heard others prediction of the Roaring 20’s.

*****

$143 billion has been spent in Afghanistan and a recent investigation shows that a lot of that was mismanaged. A lot of what was supposed to come with that, never happened.

*****

The film, The Last Blockbuster made me sentimental for my old job managing video stores.  No wonder other endeavors never seemed fulfilling. I did hate the dusting but that was a small price to pay. I will admit, also, like Kevin Smith admitted in the film, there was some sex in the video store. Good times!

*****

The Atlanta massage parlor killings come at a time when our family just found out some secrets. A bunch of the males in a particular part of the fam who claim religious superiority and love of Trump were recently seen in a new light. The patriarch of said fam had taught his son and son in law to visit strip clubs and less reputable massage parlors on the quiet.** There has been a 150% increase in Asian hate crimes.** Bill Maher mentioned the Christian and Muslim shooters and then said, “Today an atheist went crazy and rearranged his books.”** The body of one of the Atlanta victims, Daoyou Feng has yet to be claimed.

*****

Imagine calling yourself a Christian and thinking following Jesus means giving people weapons and denying them water. –Mike Jollett

*****

Face the Nation has become the Covid Report. There are other things going on. Not to mention that until there are enough available vaccines, what is the point? When will my elderly Mother be eligible because so far, it has been a no go, no matter what we do. Let’s worry about the people who do not want it after we vaccinate the ones that do.

*****

Arkansas Gov. Asa Hutchinson signed a bill to grant Dr.’s and medical professionals the right to refuse patients based on “moral, ethical or religious grounds.”

*****

Brian Kemp signed a 95 page Georgia GOP voter suppression bill.

*****

I can give a person waiting in line to vote in Georgia a gun but not a drink of water. –E. Jean Carroll

*****

Bernie Sanders is trying to lower the age for Medicare to 55.

*****

Are there large versions of Zingers or Suzy Q’s?? It seems like Hostess would make a killing on birthday or wedding cakes that looked like the lil’ snack cakes. Just think of it, giant ding dongs!!

*****

Virginia abolished the death penalty which brings the total of states without capital punishment is 23.

*****

The film Nobody with Bob Odenkirk was # 1 with a $6.7 mil debut.

*****

Riverdale will be back for season 6. Any program that shows homage to NFB 418, I’m in.

*****

The Sharon Osborne story brings up the old dilemma; Can we separate the person who’s never done anything from the work they’ve never done? –Frank Conniff**

*****

Yaphet Kptto helped Michael Moore expose taxi drivers refusal to pick up black customers on TV Nation in 1993.

*****

Arrested Development could never be the same without Mama Bluth. I never thought I would say this but I hope there is never another Arrested. Without Jessica Walter, it could never be the same.

*****

R.I.P. John Burks, Richie Tienken, Tony Hendon, Bunny Wailer, Bill C. Davis, Barbara Rickles, Isidore Mankofsky,Yaphet Kotto, Atlanta shooting victims, Beverly Cleary, Glynn Lunney, Larry Mcmurtry, George Segal, Larry the cat and Jessica Walter.