#rather than detailed study with respect for the humanity of the victims

[bongwater-supreme]

The more serial killers you read about, the more you realise how boring the problems of cishet white men are. Oh a woman was mean to you once? And now you torture and kill women as a pathetic way to cope with that? How original. I definitely can’t think of 1000 other guys who did the exact same thing. I bet 1/4 of them even share your first name. This isn’t to negate the pain inflicted by killers who weren’t cis, or het, or white, or men, but even a cursory glance can show us that these are all very much in the minority. Once again cishet white men make their own mediocrity and misogyny everyone else’s problem

[wickmitz]

SEDGEWICK SABLE & MITZI MAY : an overall study, part one .

discussing their individual characters, their relationship, their respective scenes, and a plethora of details found in-between.

this question is a good one! though i’m going to prematurely apologize for the length of my response to it, since this requires some extensive analysis. mostly because i feel like fans are prone to misreading and misinterpreting mitzi’s and wick’s relationship a lot in general, but also due to the fact there’s a lot of outside elements that are currently affecting their relationship as we see it in the comic. so to even begin to understand their mindset on the date, we have to rehash previous events and actually understand what’s happening within those moments. after all, like most good character writing, there’s a lot being said without actively telling the reader every little thing! it’s also important to note that this romantic relationship is very complex, with both parties involved being extremely human in nature ; prone to messing up and feeding impulses that, while understandable, aren’t exactly wise or good natured. for example, you will see some rather heavy miscommunication in this dynamic! but to start off with this beast of an analysis, let me discuss some statements i’ve seen made in regards to wick and mitzi, which are not only extremely biased in wick’s favor, but are factually untrue. these topics will come into play later! and will help establish some key elements i’ll mention again when recounting the events of the comic.

some opinions i’ve seen thrown around that are treated as canonical fact are a combination of ‘mitzi’s been setting out to use wick from the start / she isn’t actually interested in him / is merciless when taking advantage of him, and etc etc.’ -- and in order to properly begin this analysis and what’s really going on, you have to cast these ideas aside! i, personally, don’t think any of these views are true and serve as an extremely simplistic explanation for mitzi’s behavior, while also robbing wick of any actual agency he may have. he is not some helpless victim led astray by mitzi’s tempting offers and curves, and has even been stated to not be as morally righteous as he claims by tracy on occasion. he, like mitzi and everyone else in lackadaisy, is a heavily flawed individual! and that’s important to keep in mind as i go through and a.) debunk these misconceptions and b.) actually discuss the events of the comic, including the in-between we weren’t privy to as readers. i also don’t think i need to clarify this, but just in case someone out there is thinking it in passing : i cannot make it clear enough that mitzi is just as flawed as wick, if not more so! she is not an innocent party in the events, and i won’t shy away from discussing the morally ambiguous things she does either. however, it’s undeniable that she gets more hate than wick, or any other man in lackadaisy, thus i find it prominent to disprove the cartoonishly villainous reads of her character. i might defend her more than wick here, or approach her with more sympathy, but this doesn’t ever negate her wrongs and i know this. but with all these disclaimers, preamble, and topic starters out of the way, i’m going to go through these points one by one ( alongside their scenes together ) and discuss them as i see fit.

the first time we see mitzi and wick together is in the comic page introduction three : where they’re photographed together with some other noticeable faces, with a date of ‘5-21-1927’ dated in the corner. the two are beside one another and are leaning into each other’s space, an action that seems commonplace for them given how they’re depicted in the phantom bootlegger as well. it’s also worth noting that despite the rather tragic circumstances surrounding them, the two still appear to be in high spirits -- both donning a smile while flashing an almost coy look at the camera. they look as though nothing is amiss about the situation at all, honestly, and given their proximity, it appears they’re close. i’ve offhandedly mentioned to others that i wouldn’t be surprised if wick were standing in atlas’s ‘spot’, so to speak ; since he’s always shown standing to her left. it gives couple vibes! something that’s rather unremarkable since we know from wick’s own mouth that he’s been interested in mitzi since her days as atlas’s wife, as well as the implied affection at first sight in the side comic limestone. but i’ll note it nonetheless, because if this photo was taken before the proceeding events ( a likely story, since freckle is absent in the photo ), then this implies a closeness between wick and mitzi. they are comfortable around each other and are rather pleased to be in each other’s presence well before acting upon any feelings in a romantic light, unabashedly friendly before the other lackadaisy crew as well as not minding being posed so closely while being photographed together. they are on good terms and have likely stayed that way since they’ve known one another -- i feel like people act as though wick and mitzi had no genuine bond prior to the events of the comic, when it seems rather implied they were at least friends before. this also very weakly discredits claims of planned manipulation from the start as well as mitzi not liking wick outside of his money. the only thing up for debate, in my eyes, is how close they were, not if they were close at all … though now we reach actual canon events, most notably pages such as : formaldehyde, overtime, hallelujah, overture, caveat, and rendezvous respectively. these are pages that i’ll be talking about in length, since i see them as necessary reading ( and rereading ) for these two before volume two’s events.

formaldehyde, overtime, and overture are sort of bundled together for what they reveal where it concerns mitzi’s plans with wick as a person in her life. i think it’s easy to view her joy upon seeing sedgewick in the paper as an opportunistic lightbulb ; ‘good news’ that she can exploit and a balm applied to her financial troubles that had her looking at the obituaries for some levity. but i’d argue she is genuinely happy for wick too, with both selfless and selfish intent. while actually celebrating his success isn’t her main concern, i see some part of her proud of him nonetheless -- even if it’s an unspoken congratulations. though what’s more pressing is that it’s here that we see her intentions as clear as day, which is that she plans to schmooze wick’s investor friends in order to keep the lackadaisy afloat. emphasis on the investors here! her letter to wick shows her priorities clear as day, sending extra club pins and drawing attention to the desire for extra company, and not just wick’s own. when wick swindles the rather bored crowd the lackadaisy’s way, we see how mitzi leaps into action ; giving the men her full attention and chatting them up, making her motives clear as day to them while maintaining some business coyness. the real apple of her eye here is edmund church, who is poised to appear as the leading man where the investors are concerned, and even her body language is attentive towards the man. facing him directly, leaning the full weight of her body towards him …

but while doing so, she is visually turning herself away from wick. back practically turned to him and his presence all but ignored. it’s clear he’s not her schmoozing target, which implies she’s not searching for an investment from wick himself ; as though this is a line she doesn’t wish to cross, and would rather find her money elsewhere despite her mounting desperation. we also know that before these events that mitzi has sold everything she could in order to make things work, including rather sentimental items like wedding china and not limited to whatever mansion her and atlas previously lived in. to me, this shows that mitzi was never planning to use wick at all, really, and in fact was so against the notion that she’d rather manipulate his friends than the very easy target beside her. while she’s arguably a selfish character, people seem to not grasp how hard she tried to keep wick from becoming more than a loyal patron to the lackadaisy. it’s only when all other avenues have been exhausted that she attempts to use him -- and we’ll talk in depth about this decision later, since it wasn’t an easy choice, much less something she decided to do without some inner turmoil in her heart. and while yes, her exploiting wick’s investors is her using him to a degree, it’s worth noting that ( and i cannot stress this enough ) wick was more than well aware of her intentions and brought the men along anyway. he feeds these men to this lady he fancies, something church will call him out for in caveat and something borderline confirmed in overture itself. wick is hardly the idiot people make him out to be! he may be prone to obliviousness, but he’s no toddler who fails to understand even the most obvious social cues. at this point in the comic he trusts mitzi completely ; unfazed by the rumors she killed atlas and believing her incapable of violence due to how long he’s known her. he thinks her kind, he thinks her graceful, and his fondness for the widow is palpable in most of their early scenes … and even somewhat during the time in which their bond is strained.

in fact, the first time mitzi acknowledges wick’s presence beside her is when wick pipes up to offer her advice on how to win church over. not only is he aware of what she’s doing, he is now actively encouraging it by offering up tips and tidbits he probably learned himself when securing church’s investment, all while he smiles and leans towards her, a flirtatious and admiring nature about him.

sedgewick sable may be one of the kindest men in lackadaisy, but he’s still a capitalist at his core, someone who knows how important money is and is used to the give and take society he’s a part of. and while he’s still helping mitzi here, there’s also little denying the fact that he’s doing this to garner brownie points with her … there is some self interest he’s serving here, even if he’s rather sweet about it. as church so eloquently puts it, wick essentially tried to “charge in with ( his ) group of shareholders in a great display of concern for the lady.” and while wick vaguely denies this claim, i think it’s more than obvious that’s exactly what he tried to do here, especially given how quickly he admits it’s “difficult to resist a damsel in distress,” while adorning a rather sly look. what happened here is wick was bluntly called out for his readiness to use the investors so he could get in good with mitzi, appease her and impress her in some way, and he seems rather shameless about this intent thus far. many fans misinterpret this scene, due to being fiercely protective of wick and quick to sense church’s antagonistic role. and just to be clear, when i say antagonistic, i mean that he is the voice of opposition against something that wick’s arc is all about ( i.e. being in a relationship with mitzi ). because of this, fans are inclined to dismiss everything that church says as patently untrue. however, i find it pertinent to reassess church’s specific wording. when he speaks to mitzi in overture, he calls her business ‘criminal reputations’, and though mitzi is able to win him over enough that he stops complaining, he goes right back to his original opinion come caveat, where he states that ‘there’s no reason any of us should have an interest in illegitimate business’. what church says next, however, is curious ; he brings up both mitzi’s reputation and wick’s, pointing out just how incongruous they are, and spells out for him that if he’d like to associate with criminals, then he is in the wrong career. at no point does church tell wick not to have feelings for mitzi nor to pursue them -- what i believe church is essentially reminding wick of is that people will notice his associations with the lackadaisy if he decides to mix business and pleasure like he did tonight. after all, what wick has done, in the simplest of terms, is try to goad his investors into making an objectively harmful business decision so that he could get in good with a woman he fancies. the problem is hardly that wick goes to the lackadaisy ( after all, church and the other investors do go to speakeasies! ), or even that he has a clear interest in mitzi may. rather, church is warning wick against letting his personal feelings guide him into making poor decisions in his business.

it’s not shown how wick reacts to church’s advice, but seems to initially dismiss it, as he spends the rest of his time ushering them away and paying for viktor’s medical bills, an action he does partly due to wanting to look good in front of mitzi once again. while i believe wick would’ve paid them anyway ( he couldn’t ever just let viktor die ) i still find it interesting how the comic highlights ivy using mitzi against him and this working effortlessly. he stops asking questions and stops debating about the ethics of taking viktor to the hospital and merely pays the doctor when quackenbush gets there … before scrambling off to make himself useful at the little daisy.

all of this is to say that wick is hardly some helpless victim who was being used against his will here. he had something to gain from this too and helped these events unfold, completely aware of mitzi’s desire to win over his investors for her own needs. wick’s knowledge of this will come back into play soon enough, although we’re going to talk about mitzi real quick, as well as the comic page rendezvous.

after the events of killjoy, mitzi’s already dire situation takes a turn for the worse due to unseen circumstances, with many things falling at her feet at once. the last vestiges of their reputation has been tarnished alongside what was a golden opportunity, the lackadaisy is trashed and destroyed, she finds out that mordecai has taken all their arsenal, viktor is shot to hell, and had it not been for the presence of a stranger, the likelihood of her, rocky, and zib kicking the bucket was too likely to be comfortable. naturally, mitzi seems composed during these stressful events, keeping her cool as best she can and acting unfazed by what was imminent danger ; to a degree, this show of apathy is genuine, in the sense that mitzi is unafraid of death and physical harm. she made the choice to stay in the lackadaisy despite knowing she’d be safer on the other side of those doors, and in loggerhead she even implies she’d rather take the risks and die because allowing the lackadaisy to fade out of existence is a ‘sadder fate’ in her eyes. i don’t think i need to talk in length about how unhealthy this mindset is or how much this demonstrates mitzi’s obsession -- her selfishness to cling onto her husband’s ruinous legacy is so severe that she would even be happier perishing in its place, an almost passive suicidality mindset that i don’t see touched upon often. but for all her nonchalance about shootouts, there’s this worsening tiredness and despair that clings to her eyes and gestures when the pig farmers are slain. forced to do nothing else but accept the grim reality of such a brutal aftermath and see viktor’s awful state for herself, another blow she gets to see up close. they could’ve lost everything here, and they almost did! it’s a devastating end to a once hopeful evening, one that has her aimless and with no real plans for a future. i don’t think mitzi even thought to use wick even upon hearing about his offered charity, yet i believe we see the exact moment when such a thought crosses her mind ; maybe not for the first time, but here is when the idea becomes too tantalizing to ignore. she’s out of options and wick is there, like always, and mitzi’s desperation ( her grief ) eclipses any care she has for wick in a singular moment that changes their dynamic completely.

we’re finally at rendezvous, which is probably the most important page ( or at least one of the most integral pages ) to wick and mitzi’s relationship. a lot happens here between these two characters despite the simplicity of their actions, after all, chatting for a little and then kissing isn’t much to sneeze at plot wise. but what’s pressing here is the visuals and the dialogue rather than their actions. we start off with mitzi entering the little daisy cafe and catching wick tidying up the mess rocky and freckle created when they ran through the building ; he’s obviously waiting around to hear of viktor’s condition and doing something useful with his hands in the meantime, having been interrupted from where he’d been staring at atlas’ picture on the wall. miss may makes light of his ‘raiding’ and says she could’ve just made him something to eat if he really wants and wick responds in kind, sarcasm and banter exchanged briefly before they touch upon the events unfolding around them. mitzi expresses her gratitude and ensures she’ll pay wick back ( something she says without being prompted to ) before telling a curious wick about viktor’s condition. unable to help himself further, he asks mitzi what happened tonight, to which she remains silent -- wick realizes he’s better off not knowing and relents with a smile, to which we get this line from mitzi.

there’s a properness to this, where she goes as far as to stop using his nickname to address him as sedgewick instead. her paw reaches up to begin fiddling with her necklace ( something she does whenever thinking or reminded of atlas ) and before she can finish her thought, her attention is forced from wick onto the very picture he’d been staring at previously. my opinion on this scene is that, for all intents and purposes, this reads like some sort of formal rejection ; flavoring in ‘you’re so kind’s and ‘such a swell man, you are!’s before ending with your resounding no, so to speak. i think in this moment, mitzi was going to be honest with wick instinctively, especially after he saved her some trouble despite not having to. ”and i would hate to …” use him? lead him on? seemingly promise something she’s incapable of delivering upon? maybe she suspects he paid for viktor’s bills to win her over ( a semi correct assumption ) and wants to clear the air on that. say that while she’s thankful and while wick is an amazing person, he won’t be ‘getting’ anything out of this from her … not right now. i’ll talk more about how i believe mitzi views wick in a moment, but all in all i struggle to see what else she would’ve been trying to say here if not some kind of soft rejection. values his loyalty and kindness too much to lead him on in that way, or take advantage of him -- until she isn’t, which just happens to be obvious in this next scene. i need it on record that visually this is one of the most compelling scenes in all of lackadaisy to me! there is something so disturbing about it, somber, an eerie feeling that something is amiss and that mitzi’s state of mind is undeniably poor. that her view of things is clouded and warped, and this will overshadow any of her true thoughts or feelings due to this skewing of priorities.

and here we have this brief moment, a single panel of silence that doesn’t last more than a second perhaps, before mitzi ultimately kisses wick. what we see visually is wide, doll eyes staring at atlas -- her husband framed in time and sat at the little daisy cafe, surrounded by men who admired and feared him in equal measure, successful, and ‘looking’ down at her. seeing him renders her speechless, only roused from this heavy stare down when wick replaces atlas with his own face ; confused and worried, not at all similar to the emotionless expression she was taken by, but it’s interesting nonetheless. it’s only then that mitzi pushes into wick and kisses him! and i think this very scene is when mitzi not only thought to use wick, but was far gone enough to actually do so as well. there’s a lot of things to be potentially dissected from this scene! mitzi’s obsession with atlas, how she’s far gone enough to ruin a friendship just for his sake ( and for her own as well ) … or the fact wick seems to be her new direction, shallowly filling what space atlas has left behind, perhaps easing her loneliness and money woes all the while. this scene is never discussed and it’s criminal it isn’t, when there’s so much being said here in the silence of it all. she is haunted and tormented and all she can see is atlas, and after everything that’s happened to her and the lackadaisy, wick becomes an avenue and a tool for the sake of it. it’s not a kiss she seems to even enjoy and it looks as though it’s entirely impulsive and forced on her end.

with comics, it’s finicky to decipher what happens between panels, but what’s obvious here is that wick doesn’t respond to her advance immediately, which causes mitzi to pull back. she apologizes vaguely, giving a dismissive ‘i do that sometimes,’ something that’s probably not even true given how valiantly mitzi loathes feeling like a ‘harlot’, so to speak. she’s obviously trying to brush this incident aside ; either having come to her senses and being rightfully embarrassed or taking his unresponsive nature as her having read him wrong. feigns aloofness when wick asks what she does so often exactly, still distant by all means, and had it not been for the olives and their forced proximity, she might’ve made her leave. as quickly as the impulse came, it had left, and i don’t think it’s out of the realm of possibility to think mitzi quickly regretted her actions here due to how emotionally driven they were. but instead she lingers and stays, and then ( in my eyes, given the composition of the pose ) wick yanks her into another kiss now that the surprise has worn off. after all, he did want this! she had caught him off guard is all. it’s worth noting she looks more at ease with this kiss, knowing it’s reciprocated and enjoying it as a passionate thing led by wick rather than herself. maybe she can excuse it now, her attempt to use him, since he’s ‘leading’ so to speak. regardless, this is where rendezvous ends … however, i want to address one more thing before i move on completely.

there’s no true way of telling what happened after this comic page due to the morning timeskip we experience. all we know is that wick eventually went home, after being out ‘later than usual’, which could imply he stayed for a lengthy period of time after or could simply be referring to the fact he didn’t leave with bix at first. i’d argue the earlier assumption based on the fact wick technically ‘left early’ anyway due to the raid, but that’s besides the point. people seem to believe that mitzi selfishly dropped this investment deal onto wick, that it was solely her idea, yet we see multiple times in volume two that this isn’t the case at all -- and that wick not only agreed to meet with her, but seemingly for the purpose of talking about his potential investment. here we have wick acknowledging he made last minute plans in grindstone, as well as mitzi heavily implying wick was very much into the idea of investing in her business last night in doublet :

wick never refutes these claims and the narrative does nothing to disprove this either. so it’s safe to assume that either during their necking or thereafter, one of them brought up the idea of wick investing and they both seemed eager about the prospect, enough so to agree upon meeting later in order to discuss the actual details. once again, wick is well aware of mitzi’s intention during the events of her date, an intention she barely bothers hiding because they’ve agreed to talk about it, and we’ll put a pin in that for later. now that we’ve actually concluded the canon events leading up to volume two ( as well as some moments in between ) i’ll briefly talk about mitzi’s and wick’s feelings during this time.

one of the biggest problems they’re facing currently, and one that will worsen over time, is that neither of them are on the same wavelength here. there is undoubtedly mutual attraction between them as well as affection, but how they view and understand these emotions is where they stay divided. we have sedgewick sable who’s well aware of his feelings ( or, in time, thought he was anyway ), has been since meeting mitzi for the first time, and is so bold in his fondness that he lingered inside her circle despite her marital status. he knows he wants mitzi romantically or at the very least casually … everyone around him can tell this too. it’s not some secret or taboo sin wick is prone to shying away from! he doesn’t even care about the rumors or her widow status -- or how bad it would look to be public with her given the mysterious and illegal circumstances she’s surrounded in. he desires to impress and woo her on top of being helplessly smitten.

where they seem to differ is that while wick is keenly aware of his attraction, mitzi is not. or, more accurately, has no clarity to which she can view it and understand it for what it is. during the events of the comic, she’s long since rewritten her memories of atlas and has painted them in this golden picture of pure happiness and true love and joy … she’s romanticized her past with him, purposefully forgetting things in order to maintain this ‘i had a fairytale life when i was married to atlas’ viewpoint. we see how this perspective affects even the most major of things, like the way mitzi casually spits in the face of her old life with the band, now adamant about the fact she was miserable then and felt just oh so disgusting while performing. while i believe some of those feelings are true, i also believe that mitzi is inherently devaluing things that aren’t related to atlas due to a mixture of obsession and grief she’s not looking in the eye. when you lose someone you love or loved, the sudden hit of loss makes it very easy to morph the person in your mind into someone perfect and godly. mordecai has likely done the same thing. it’s simple to deal with heartbreak in that way, to better love someone when they’re dead and gone with only memories and photos and feelings left behind as evidence they were ever there at all. in many ways, mitzi can’t comprehend atlas anymore, and has channeled her wounds into this constant conflicting fixation instead of something to heal. so, naturally, she is not thinking about herself -- her desires, her wants, her thoughts, or her feelings ; it's a chorus of atlas and the lackadaisy instead. mitzi isn’t in the space of mind to inspect her feelings towards wick and figure out whether she likes him or not … not when all she cares about is her priority. it also doesn’t help that zib, the person who arguably knew her best ( but doesn’t know her anymore despite how they both pretend otherwise ), immediately accuses her of using wick at the very beginning of volume one.

again, zib isn’t wrong and it turns out his fears are more than valid! but it’s worth saying that mitzi’s clouded mind is already having the notion of ‘you don’t care for wick like that, you’re just using him’ shoved into her brain as evident fact from someone who’s important to her. while she fancies him and would, in another world, be more than eager to engage in frivolous courting and romantic inclinations, i don’t think she herself knows that. but if she did take a moment and examine what she’s doing and how she feels now, she’d probably dismiss all that and be more than convinced that she’s manipulating wick, utilizing his attraction to her while having none of her own in order to steal some much needed money from his pockets. like i mentioned in this post, mitzi likely believes atlas was her one true love and that she’d never love again, furthering this notion of her accidentally puppeting her own emotions to be more understandable in her eyes. this ( coupled with guilt for using wick so brutally ) is also why she appears to almost avoid romance entirely during their ‘date,’ only ever resorting to such overt flirtation when desperately trying to get wick to talk to her about what she needs to talk to him about. her methods and actions during those events are more calculated, as was her initial kiss in rendezvous. it’s also worth noting the next time we see mitzi is while she’s getting ready, sat at her vanity and looking particularly small and numb. it’s giving some levels of dissociation! this is not the expression of someone who’s remembering the events of last night fondly, which sadly includes the kiss between her and wick.

but still, we as the audience know she likes him subconsciously. we cannot always trust her perspective and instead need to analyze and look at the little things to infer if her views and genuine feelings align. her constant fondness for wick shows itself even during moments where mitzi believes she is uncaring. she is usually smiling at the mention of wick or from being around him, will casually touch him affectionately, and is visibly enjoying the act of posing with him in photomajig. everything i’ve previously said more than proves she cares for him to a rather utmost degree too. like most of their relationship and respective characters, these two extremes can coexist in their own unique way, and i wholeheartedly believe they do. i’ll also acknowledge that i haven’t talked about wick much, but don’t worry! we will get there in volume two soon enough, which i will now be covering and analyzing in detail as well.

as mentioned previously, the next time we see mitzi is after the events of last night, likely sometime in the afternoon given later events. she is putting in her earrings while sat at her vanity, surrounded by a seemingly endless supply of photos ( another metaphor for the past and how it never really leaves her alone ) as she looks on with an apathetic sort of misery. she gets up and totes around a tommy gun which she then shows off to the portrait of atlas in her ( still his ) office ; giving him a rather generous debriefing that leaves out some integral details, like viktor being shot, before harping more on mordecai and how she needs to deal with him so things won’t get worse. the only mention of wick here is her telling atlas that it ‘wasn’t a total loss,’ though her rather kicked expression, as well as how quickly she brushes past the details of that, implies she isn’t satisfied with the state of things. i also find it interesting how little she admits to the deterioration of things here, before the portrait of her dead husband, because while this can be seen as tracy not wanting to recount all the events we’ve just seen, i think there’s a level of avoidance here too. mitzi isn’t keen on vocally admitting to how bad things are, how much was lost last night -- perhaps due to the fact she’ll be forced to confront the actual helplessness of her situation, and realize that things aren’t exactly fixable as it stands. there’s actually very few instances where she willingly shares her feelings or talks about the state of the lackadaisy to anyone, and the few times she actually does so, it’s either a.) a weapon to utilize against someone else, like some kind of guilt trip, or b.) it bursts out of her like a dam. she is extremely private and reserved where it concerns her emotions, always wishing to appear competent and above things, and in my opinion, it’s something worth noting. after this, she decides to call the maribel hotel and confront asa about his and mordecai’s involvement in last night’s tragedy.

the phone call itself plays out, in the most simplistic of terms, with mitzi’s desire to discuss things being disregarded as asa avoids her through various means. he questions why she’s bothering with such low quality hooch, and upon mitzi trying to bring the conversation back to the original topic ( aka why asa would do this ), he then pries about the lackadaisy’s desolate state before telling her to quit before things worsen. mitzi expresses confusion, but once again isn’t able to form an entire sentence due to asa abruptly ending the call after deciding for her that they’ll just discuss this over lunch. all in all, it’s an extremely rude and frustrating exchange. and sadly this won’t be the only time today where mitzi tries to talk to someone about a rather pressing topic, one very important to her and the wellbeing of her establishment, only to be dismissed at almost every turn until the very end of things.

in the next page, mitzi is depicted silently stewing in a chair much too big for her, glaring daggers at nothing in particular, more than angry at her failure of a phone call. she is unresponsive to rocky’s rambling, including the potential hiring of freckle, and only rouses herself out of her irritation when realizing she can bring the two boys along in some sort of display of power. it’s a rather weak and grasping attempt at maintaining some level of control, especially when she outright tells asa why rocky and freckle are there : “you see, my circumstance isn’t quite as hopeless as you -- ” it’s a very obvious posturing, a weak show with nothing really backing it. neither asa or mordecai are impressed or swayed by this at all, with mordecai even calling out that rocky is some band member rather than some gun for hire. his insults rub salt into mitzi’s wounds ( which is why she believes asa brought mordecai at all ) and only then does she discuss viktor’s awful state, a hasty guilt trip that quickly loses its shine the longer she drags it along. while i may view mitzi through a more sympathetic lens than most and hardly believe her major flaw to be manipulation, she is still capable of it and will stoop so low when it may benefit her, or perhaps whenever it makes her feel a bit better. and this brief interaction with mordecai is one such case.

the overall contents of the lunch and the car scene thereafter proves rather irrelevant to my topic, so instead of summarizing how it goes ( poorly, it goes poorly! ) i’ll be talking about certain events that will matter later, or will help us understand where mitzi is at mentally by the time she actually meets wick for their planned visit. the major components being how asa treats mitzi during this impromptu meeting and the state mordecai leaves her in after they discuss atlas.

to touch upon asa’s treatment of mitzi, even from as early as the phone call we see that mitzi is forced to have a conversation with asa on his terms rather than her own terms. mitzi sets out with a clear goal in mind -- learning why asa sweet would attack the lackadaisy in the way that he did -- and she's repeatedly talked over and threatened, with her questions remaining unanswered. it’s very clear very quickly that asa doesn’t respect mitzi nor view her as someone worthy of his time like atlas was, and almost appears to approach her in a misogynistic manner. he demeans something as simple as her ukulele as a ‘teeny little guitar’ and acts as though mitzi’s tears would be bothersome to him, some sort of burden he’d be forced to deal with rather than a valid emotional response to threats, degradation, and the likes. while asa is by no means wrong with some of his observations, he’s certainly rude and uncaring with how he goes about it. when he tells mitzi that he’s here to suggest that she step down, because he so generously has her interests in mind, she doesn’t buy it ; once again bringing up last nights events, where asa willingly armed the pig farmers with the lackadaisy’s arsenal and sent them over her way without so much as a warning. asa dismisses this coldly, once again dodging any fault and claiming it was ‘happenstance’ and entirely mitzi’s own doing. even now, when he’s actively threatening her and making it clear they won’t stay friendly if she keeps trying to make it in this business, he still won’t fully admit to any sort of responsibility for the disastrous night he helped put her through. while this seems rather typical of asa given his disrespectful streak ( something even mordecai, as valued and as useful as he is, suffers because of ) it’s worth noting that this side of him is new to mitzi and not one she was at all expecting. she even says as much here, in heartstrings :

we also know that mitzi only met atlas due to her performing at the marigold speakeasy first, and it’s likely asa was rather present in her life due to his bond with her now husband. asa even admits that mitzi may be confused because they’ve ’managed a friendly coexistence for so long,’ once again hammering home this idea that up until this point, asa was indeed kind to mitzi, or at the very least cordial. but with atlas out of the picture and mitzi trying to take his position, suddenly asa is more than okay with getting her killed or taking all she has left -- even his plan is nothing short of apathetic and cold, an afterthought, expecting her to give up something important to her and only offering a one time offer to play at the marigold room ‘sometime’ with that ‘old band of hers.’ i’ve actually seen some people claim this was a valid out for mitzi to take, which i can’t disagree more with, since a.) her band days are not something mitzi is interested in anymore and b.) she’s sold basically everything to keep the lackadaisy afloat, meaning she’d be more than poor if she gave that up. playing once or maybe twice at the marigold room wouldn’t save her financially! it wouldn’t do anything for her at all, besides giving mitzi some sort of last hurrah in her mata hari dress, something that doesn’t even fit her anymore. while it’s clear to anyone that she needs to let go of the past in order to be happy, accepting this poor excuse of a deal from asa is just her trading one past in for another one. this is also why zib’s out, while certainly better, isn’t something good for mitzi either. but that’s another post on its own, so i’ll leave it alone for the time being. what’s important here is that mitzi is ruthlessly betrayed by a man who used to like her and is treated as a lesser thing due to his view that she’s too incompetent to run a rumrunning business. he also brings up atlas to, in mitzi’s eyes, ‘intimidate ( her ) into agreeing with him,’ and towards the end of the lunch, she looks particularly kicked and undoubtedly hurt. she leaves this meeting that could’ve stayed a phone call with a potential enemy made and with the world on her shoulders, now more determined than ever to be someone people like asa would be forced to respect. instead of being dissuaded, she’s been encouraged, and it’s not hard to realize why.

her scene with mordecai leaves her in a similar predicament after their very brief truce is broken, with him perpetuating asa’s threats as well as saying, “as though you could bring the remains of atlas’ estate to anything but further disgrace,” before promptly leaving. these words, plus the subject matter and who said them, leaves mitzi staring out the car window and actually brings her to literal tears. her eyes are suddenly watery, and when rocky tries to make her feel better, we see one paw hastily wipe at one eye in particular -- already having spilled a tear or two by the time her hires have made their way back into the car. i cannot stress enough that throughout the entirety of this brief arc, mitzi has been constantly ridiculed and told she is not good enough at this job to be doing it, on top of the extremely sensitive subject of her husband being brought up twice over, which only served as one more jab to be made at mitzi’s expense. she desperately wanted the lackadaisy to work before, some sort of memento to atlas that she could keep going, and being told to let go of it in such a harsh way isn’t going to have the intended outcome. most people become vindictive and determined when told something is ‘impossible’ or that they won’t ever be able to accomplish what they want because they’re too incompetent to do it, they see this as a challenge, they get angry, and they start fighting harder for the goal in question. it’s rather human : to be fueled by wounded pride and to want so badly to prove others wrong, to taste the victory of accomplishing something deemed impossible, to warrant the respect of your peers … mitzi is all that and then some, since she’s gripped by an obsessive grief that refuses to let her go.

she wants to do this for atlas, she needs to do it for atlas, and there is no life or goal outside of the one in front of her. again, as mentioned paragraphs before, she’s made it clear she’d rather die than see the lackadaisy wither away into nothing. asa’s and mordecai’s threats, their insults, were never going to do anything except push mitzi further down the path she’s already on. and with the added bonus of mitzi now being in an extremely fragile emotional state ( one she hasn’t had a single break from since last night ), this then causes her decision making skills to be finicky ; more likely to make rash calls and to act desperately, rather than thinking clearly and with her head. mitzi does her best to sweep her fraying mental state under the rug for the sake of business, with the comic page haggersnash providing the visual of her reapplying her makeup near the traitorous eye and she even goes as far as to change her clothes, though there’s no denying the perpetual state of misery clinging to her character moving forward. and like we’ll see in wick later, mitzi probably also didn’t get much sleep last night herself. that paired with the nonstop events that refuse to work in her favor, and the occasional mental breakdown, is more than enough to reiterate for a final time that she is not well, despite how good she is at appearing so.

shutting the door on mitzi and her no good very bad day, we then shift back into wick in the second and final part of this essay.

[zorilleerrant]

If you're wondering why people like the character, anon:

canonically bisexual since 1992, and implicitly queer through narrative elements before that

text deals explicitly with serophobia and public health concerns

nuanced depiction of someone who grew up poor with a bad dad, moving in and out of situations where things were better or worse in his childhood, but consistently traumatic

deals narratively with his (many) traumas

one of the earliest realistic takes on superheroes; not in the sense of 'how can we make this dark and gritty' but in the sense of 'how could a human survive in a world of gods and monsters when all he has access to is what he can scrounge together'. he's an anti-hero in the literary sense and not in the 'this is a guy who's an asshole and then we cheer for him' sense

related: in subversion of the mythic 'there's always another way' Constantine is regularly presented with only bad choices, and has to make the best of it to hurt the fewest people. he never knows for sure whether his choices are right or wrong (like in real life!) and has to just do the best he can

does a lot of actual deconstruction of the genre rather than just showing you things and going 'whoop! surprised you!'

unlike most superheroes, has to deal with real life problem like affording rent and groceries, living in bad areas, worrying about his family falling victim to cults and scams, bigotry and profiling, the genuine fear of death

while magic is an element in his stories from the start, it doesn't really drive the story. it's a backdrop against which character studies are made and relationships explored.

explicitly, actively, relevantly, and sometimes scathingly political, the story doesn't shy away from leftist views. Constantine vocally supports groups that he doesn't belong to and forms solidarity with them so they can support him as well

magic as a metaphor for drug addiction: distinctive outcomes based on class, certain types of enshrined 'respectable' magic, fucking up one's own life, fucking up one's friends' and family's lives, knowing that there's a problem and being unable to break free, bad support structures, poor education on the topic, legitimate reasons why the magic user actually does need to use magic more than recreationally

text deals with his compassionate - potentially feminine - side and allows him to form loving and mutual relationships, including being a caregiver to children

extremely internally nuanced character with a distinctive voice, and a very close, almost first person narrative, which was uncommon at the time. beautiful writing style with lots of details, altho he says 'strewth' a lot

distinctive artstyle to underscore the shift from myth to realism, which helps convey a lot of emotion

aged in real time, referred to real world events

a lot of exploration of the idea of an everyman; Constantine is both just some guy and exceptionally special; he's both unique and a repeated motif throughout history. simultaneous the most and least powerful character in the narrative. everyone is someone but no one is anyone in the scheme of things. this does not absolve anyone of responsibility

one time had an intense psychosexual drama with an evil imitation of Bruce Wayne who he fucked into killing himself as revenge for setting events in motion to kill Constantine's ex

based on Sting

what’s the deal with john constantine?

He grows on you, apparently. For most people he’s an acquired taste. I like how Bruce doesn’t trust him at all and gets his hackles up whenever he’s around. Too much magic and uncertainty. I get it.

[rumblelibrary]

Okay this may sound like an oddly detailed request but can you do a Laszlo x reader where Laszlo has been courting the reader for a while and has never met her father, because her father is dead or abandoned her at a young age or something like that and she never told Laszlo, but Laszlo is instant on meeting him for some reason or something like that?

Sorry if thats a weird request

Unofficial Meeting [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Fem!Reader]

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: a bit angsty, mention of old fashioned ideas

Author’s note: I hope you will like it and I respected your wishes <3

"Miss?"

The voice of your chamber maid called you distracting you from answering some correspondence.

"Yes?"

She smiled so widely as a bouquet of white roses and peonies was presented in front of you. She giggled as she was just so happy for you. You have been courted by Dr Laszlo Kreizler for some time now, but he never missed to send you flowers on a Saturday morning, it was his ritual since you two became serious.

"Those are so beautiful, miss"

She said excitedly before leaving you to read the note, she was probably living the romance through you which was quite weird but cute to witness.

You opened the card, Laszlo usually was a brief but intense poet, but this time the message was clear. Can I tempt you with a lunch at Delmonico's?

You frowned lightly before looking out of your window, his dark clothing making him strikingly visible in the greenery of the park in front of your house, he raised his hat for you and smiled.

Damn him and his top level courting.

You put your letters away and got ready spraying some perfume on you before going out, your maid helping you with your coat and hat.

When you stepped out of the front Door Laszlo was waiting in front of your gate.

"You could have called"

He smirked at you "it wouldn't have been a surprise" he concluded simply.

You smirked as it was true and you have also learned to admire the extent of Laszlo'd courtship. He was attentive and respectful, he knew when to trace a line to forbid any kind of bad talks. He was already famous for being a maverick and he didn't want to put that stigma on you too.

You obliged him as you walked your way together to the restaurant, he never failed to ask you about your day and your plans. he was very attentive and you reserved him the same tenderness asking him about his patients or latest articles.

Once you arrived at the restaurant you were brought to one of the best tables, Laszlo taking upon himself the honour to move your chair back behind you and then back toward you for you to sit comfortably.

"Thank you Laszlo"

He smiled proudly taking it as a compliment, but he looked rather stiff and tense for his usual mannerism toward you.

Once you ordered your meal he toyed with his glass of wine a bit attracting inevitably your attention.

"What is wrong?"

He looked at you surprised by your question, but he smiled because you sort of alleviated him from the weight of beginning what he wanted to ask.

"I was just wondering when I will be able to meet your father" he said just as directly as your question was "I met your grandmother and your uncles and aunts, I am missing somebody"

He said it quite easily as your mother had left this earth early for the standard and you regret she won't be able to see what an amazing man you met.

"You don't need to meet him"

He stared at you puzzled, what really concerned him wasn't your refusal, but more the hardness you showed into expressing it.

"I think I do"

You glared at him, your conversation briefly interrupted by the waiters landing the plates in front of the two of you.

He thanked them before looking back at you, your stern look still there.

You had discussions before but never of this size and also as much as he tried before to hint the theme of your father he wasn't acknowledged at all.

He also noticed how the rest of your family followed that same guideline, acting like they found you under a tree.

"I think it is something I have to do sooner or later"

You glared at him again.

"Stop it"

It was hard for him to stop. He was already launched on the theme and he was worse than a wild animal when he got fixated over a theme in particular.

You pushed some common ground theme while you ate. Like John or Sara's agency or other mundane things, but you hated to see the intensity in his look.

That question over and over into his mind.

You never hated to be with him as much as you did now.

You declined the offer of a dessert pretty quickly just wanting to go away.

Laszlo obliged and lead you back outside escorting you to your place.

"I don't mean to be invasive.."

"But you're" you confirmed to him "thank you for the lunch, I can walk myself home on my own”

You left him there moving after your house's gate.

He stood there biting the inside of his cheek nervously.

You didn't contact him any further on that day or the ones that followed, to be honest you avoided him and his flowers and attentions. You even stayed at home instead of attending places you were supposed to be, but where he also might find you.

Until your grandmother called you and you furiously ordered your maid to call the doctor and make him come at your place.

He arrived quicker than you expected. He was worried something happened, maybe you were ill and nobody told him.

When your maid showed him the way to your study and closed the door behind him he tried immediately to politely ask you about your state but your eyes burned holes like bullets in him.

“How dare you?” You growled at him. He stood still in front of you, his back straight even if you didn’t fail to notice the frown on his forehead.

“How dare you to call my grandmother? To ask her something I specifically told you I don’t want to share or talk or even mention? What is s hard about it? What makes you rightful to come bashing into my life asking for answers? “Y/N”

“No, no Y/N, you doctor, should learn to put a line between when you’re an alienist and when you’re a decent human being” you were being extra hard on him, but just earring your grandmother worried voice was enough to make you snap his neck.

He took your rage like a champion, even if he clearly was suffering it.

“Why is so important Laszlo? Why to see your mind at ease? It is just a man, somebody that doesn’t belong to my life, why you have to push it? Why you always have to push it?” “I just hoped..” “Hoped what? Hoped that a man that abandoned a pregnant woman while courting her was worth my time and thoughts? That I need to share my own life with somebody that wasn’t there? That never asked to meet me, or even see the woman he swore to every wind that he loved? That put my mother in the position of being considered a whore? How my grandma had to pretend I was hers to try give my mother a good shot at life?”

All those truths hit Laszlo like a bag of bricks, he was overwhelmed and saddened. Those situations were the ugliest in those times. Women always paying off the debts of the lust of men. The simple promise of a marriage just to gain something that could be tasted forever with a little more of wait. Just the human need to break a rule, just one, that revolutionary feeling that only losers at heart have. Because nobody makes a revolution over the expenses of a loved one.

“I had no idea” he concluded

“I hope you are satisfied now, your scientific mind has now all the puzzle pieces, now leave and let my family alone”

You could see his shoulders fall as you said that to him, his face paling in fear and sadness. He pressed his lips tight against each other, his jaw hurting as he didn’t know if at this point was really worth it to explain why he insisted so much. He ruined it, he tried to treat you with the white gloves and instead he hurt you even more.

“I apologise” he said staring at you, you letting him speak for the first time “I never meant to put you in such a position, I really just meant to be close to your family and I couldn’t see the fault in my own desires”

He admitted it but you didn’t wince, he crossed the line, he went too far and he needed to learn to respect the limits of others, not everyone needed to be under his care.

“I said you may leave”

He looked out of your window searching for words. Your anger was waving down as he looked so upset, and he should be.

“I am also a victim of our society in my own means, even if my behaviour is not excusable in any way, I stupidly fixated on the idea of doing things right with you and some things… Well, they teach us boys some things have to be asked to a father first”

You looked at him with a frown, you shook lightly your head as you didn’t understand his point and you were five seconds away from throwing him the vase with the latest flowers he sent you when you looked at him pul out a little velvet box from his inner pocket.

“The times are modern now, it was silly of me to try move past you like that” he leaned the box on your desk. He nodded at you respectfully leaving. You were left alone with that little box, you stared at it for a moment before moving closer to it.

You looked out of the window as you heard the gates closing and you watched Laszlo’s figure walk away.

Your eyes darted from his back to the box in front of you slowly opening it to find the ring of the dreams of any girl.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief@thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme  @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling

Let me know if you want to get tagged to my publications too <3

[couchpotatoaniki]

Stories From Alternate Universes: Yandere!Hongjoong

To understand the storyline of Dr Gertrude, please read the Stories From Alternate Universes; ATEEZ Version (headcannon masterlist).

To understand the Yandere storyline, please read the Eight Yandere Stories From An Alternate Universe (Yandere!ATEEZ headcannon masterlist)

Warnings: yandere behaviour, mental health issues, manipulation, blackmail, violence, stalking, taking photos without consent, taking advantage of the vulnerable, suggestive, mentions of drug dealing

Word Count: 3.5k+ (not including Doctor’s Notes)

A/N: Please do not take pictures of people without their consent, since this can cause a lot of paranoia for the person/people in question (a close friend of mine had experienced this and I really wanted to raise awareness). If someone does take a picture without your consent, tell them to delete it--don’t back down if they call you names or say that ‘it’s just a picture’. This simply shows that they are not respecting you or your comfort zone, and are therefore a trashy person. Also, in no way am I trying to romanticise yandere behaviour or any sort of manipulative behaviour at all.

Doctor’s Notes:

Kim Hongjoong appears to be a very intelligent human being, though seems to abuse this power in order to manipulate his victim. Some behaviours and characteristics I’ve noticed while studying him are as follows:

Does not use physical force when it comes to situations surrounding his victim (be it themselves or those associated to them), but uses mental control instead

Tends to observe the situation first (and everyone in it) in order to gather information first before making any rash moves

Leans more towards manipulating his victim rather than the situation itself, but the latter method is not uncommon

Through intelligence gathering, he is able to understand people’s body language well (mimicking the superpower of mind-reading extremely well) and can act accordingly

The previous point refers mainly to blackmail and further manipulation

Desirable traits--such as humbleness and benevolence--generally shown at face value, though there is evidence of narcissistic behaviour behind closed doors

Exploits any opportunity for his victim to show emotion in order to pursue his passion (like an experiment)

His victim appears to be somewhat aware of these behaviours, but does not know the extent of the issues

Appointed Nickname: The Shrewd

For more detailed information of His Story, continue reading

His Story:

From the moment he was able to grab things in his soft hands, Hongjoong had shown a great interest in the arts. Suppose it’s not surprising at all he became an artist, letting the ideas and pictures in his head taint the graceful white canvas. And to him, you were perfect.

Basic enough to blend into the crowd, but unique enough to stand out to him. His muse, who made him feel more like an artist than anything. More than the paintbrush that spread his emotions across the material with each stroke.

Problem was, you weren’t all that keen on being his--or anyone else’s for that matter, since you had other plans in life rather than being a trophy for someone to fawn over.

You were a barista, making coffees and teas, alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks, all sorts for your customers. Owned a small business, a café in the morning; by night, a bar. It was your dream to create things people loved--and with your lack of ability to cook contrasting with an unusually on-point sense of smell--this was the best business you could have possibly gone into.

Hongjoong was going through a slump in creativity the night he found your little place. The relaxing image, the fresh air surrounding it, had drawn him in like a moth to a light.

Then, at the counter, he saw you.

Great big grin on those soft-looking lips, you greeted him, taking his order--Aviation, the cocktail was called. It was a rather pretty drink, the cool liquid cloudy with a beautiful lavender hue to it. Gin wasn’t particularly his favourite, but he was so lost in your beauty that he chose the first thing that his mind could grasp.

That was how he associated you with the earth and the sky.

Through the flower garnish and overall look of the drink, you became his world, suddenly finding endless ideas and concepts--feelings he could pour out into his bits of work for his next gallery.

Every day, on your shifts, he was there, eager to talk to you. Quickly became a regular, just to drink in the sight of your pretty face and beautiful aura. Jokes passed between the two of you, about him being an alcoholic or caffeine addict, about you being the reason for it because your drinks are just too damn good.

It was towards the end of your night shifts that talks began to get deep and personal. When many of the customers were gone and the alcohol began to settle in. For you, it was like talking to a friend you never had--one who had such a unique outlook on the world; more like a breath of fresh air than most drunks you usually had to interact with.

For you, Hongjoong was kind, insightful, willing to talk about anything and everything--and you could relate all too well since the two of you simply clicked. A compliment of personalities, making it very easy for you to be comfortable, to be yourself, around him.

For you, he was humble and sweet, gifting you small little trinkets as an act of friendship (or so you assumed), keeping you company during off-peak hours, helping you handle customers that were a tad too difficult for a single human.

For you, Hongjoong would say anything, do anything, be anything.

Yet none of it seemed to work, for he was just your friend.

Eventually he grew frustrated, painting his emotions in reds and blacks and greens and blues onto the canvas one day, a piece for his upcoming gallery. The anger, jealousy, sadness that accompanied love--everything he had grew to feeling when you made no move to show your romantic interest.

Overlooking his finished piece, he realised that he had to do something more... direct.

Your day shift ended twenty minutes ago, yet you were still inside, deciding to end it with a coffee with your favourite patron. This had become more routine now that you began to grow familiar with Hongjoong--or the persona he put on; at the end of your shift, be it day or night, you would take half an hour to simply talk with your soul-friend who appeared to know you more than anyone else.

Right now you were talking about an experience you had while camping out with some old companions, where a friend had burnt their hand--prompted by Hongjoong showing you a little injury on his arm that was sustained from the wax he was working with.

“Wow, your partner must be lucky to have someone so handy with a first-aid kit,” he chuckled, knowing very well what you were about to say next.

Shaking your head, you waved him off. “I don’t have a partner, but thanks for the compliment.”

“Really?" he questioned, feigning perplexity. "How come you don't?"

Fiddling with the rim of your cup of coffee, you sighed. "Maybe it just wasn't written for me. People are just..." You took a breath, inhaling the right words along with the lingering smell of freshly ground beans in the air. "No matter who I talk to, they just... they don't fill that hole that needs to be filled. They just don't have what I want."

"And what do you want?" His voice was soft, gentle, like a mother's warm smile.

Encouraging.

Chuckling, you took a swift swig of your toasty-warm drink. "First time anyone's asked me that."

"What you want?" Hongjoong scoffed, copying your action and had sipped on his heavenly liquid. "No wonder you can't find the right person."

Cheeky smile pulling at his lips made you chortle, the silliness of your friend bringing a kind of ease to your mind. "What I want is... an equal. I don't want to mother someone--I just want to grow alongside my equal. I want to work and enjoy my freedoms without having to lose too much just for someone who doesn't even know if they can fully commit to me, if they can treat me properly. I want to love and be loved--is that too much to ask for?"

Tenderness in his eyes, Hongjoong unwrapped his hands from his cardboard cup to warm your own up. “Well, I suppose in this world, it actually is too much.” Tracing his lip with his tongue, he chuckled. “Perhaps the whole thing about marrying your best friend is your best bet. Could be with someone who enjoys being with you. Cares for you because you’re you.”

Head tipped back from laughing, you pulled your hands away to pat his head. “Thanks for the advise,” You took it as a sweet little thought, rather than what he was truly trying to insinuate.

“I’m not joking, it’s a fairly reasonable idea!”

“Then do you suggest I should try dating a friend?”

“Why not?”

“I don’t feel that passion--”

“How would you know if you’ve never even attempted it.” Sighing, he straightened his back, seriousness in his body language but playfulness in his gaze. “Try me. Try dating me--” he saw your mouth opening in protest, instant tension in your shoulder “--and it doesn’t even have to work out. Just to make you warm up to the idea of being with a friend. You can always drop out of it any time you feel too uncomfortable--but you gotta get out of that comfort zone once in a while for it to take effect.”

Right now it was all sweet talk. All to coax you into agreeing to be with him. Like hell he’d actually let you go--not when you were his job seemed all that more interesting with you in his life.

But he let you sleep on it--like you could actually get a wink of rest with such an important thing to decide. Ultimately, you thought it was a good experience, so when he returned the next day for your night shift, you said yes.

Hongjoong was over the moon, giddy and excited to be your official boyfriend. Finally, he and his muse could be together--and he wouldn’t let anything rip the two of you apart.

So, for the first month or so, he was set on showing you the ideal person for you. Someone who would let you grow in your own space, and although he hated that lack of control, he let you be so you could settle properly with him.

So you could fall as hard for him as he did for you.

By the time November rolled around, the two of you had been dating for just over three months. During that time, the time you had spent certainly changed your perspective on dating; Hongjoong may have been a great friend, but he became the poster-boy for boyfriends--attentive to your needs, caring, sweet, gentle, supportive, never crossing the boundaries you had set.

You couldn’t recall when it was that your heart began to speed up at the sound of his laughter, nor the unrest in your fingers once noticing his messy hair, nor the twitch of the corner of your lips when you thought of a past conversation.

All of a sudden, your unoccupied time was spent on the two of you, contemplating what to do for your next date or brainstorming ideas for food you could share while you were hanging out at his place, watching the artist in action. It was all so gradual, not realising you romantically liked a good friend of yours.

Not understanding you were tangling yourself more and more in his web.

Hongjoong felt that now he could perhaps peel away the fake persona he had put on, knowing you’d be a lot less likely to leave him now that he could see you change slowly. Making more time for him, talking to him more, laughing a lot more in his presence.

So, he did. Gradually, he began to voice out certain things. The first few times were rare and far between, less like commands and more like alternative suggestions. What would look better for a party. What would be nice dish to cook for dinner. What would be a good time to work.

Then, as the months went by, the rare alternative suggestions morphed into frequent requests. Could you wear this instead? Could you have this specific hairstyle? Could we cook this today? Could we go out tonight rather than tomorrow?

Yet he never forget to add that phrase, 'but the choice is yours in the end'.

Hongjoong was smooth about what he was doing--and although you could feel this slight pressure, you believed that’s what was normal in a relationship. After all, they’re just simple asks... right?

Sunlight showered through the window, curtains drawn as to let the natural light seep into the room. You were still cocooned in the covers of his bed, and so was he--though only one of you were asleep.

“Pretty,” he whispered to himself, hand reached out to brush against the warm flesh of your cheek until it stopped mid-air. This sight was too pretty for him to touch, a snapshot of you like this was needed to imprint it forever in time.

God knows how many pictures Hongjoong’s taken of you. Out in the open or behind closed doors. With you aware of the camera’s presence or not. All the evidence tucked away in a metal box, in a hidden corner of one of his storage lots to store his artwork.

Though you were knocked out after last night (you and him spend the time intimately, with skin bare against each other whispering sweet things into the heavy air of his bedroom), he still liked to pepper you with compliments that deserved to be said only to you--after all, you were the only one who deserved it.

Hongjoong couldn’t pass up the opportunity to take a picture of you--and he did so, swiftly. “Beautiful, my love,” he whispered as he nuzzled into the nook of your neck, turning off his phone and placing it carefully on the bedside table.

He'd print it out later and delete any evidence.

Grunting came from your chest as you shuffled closer to the warmth of his body, your unconscious state finding the blanket wrapped around you from shoulder down was not sufficient enough and must seek out the comfort he could provide you.

As much as he hated to do so, Hongjoong rubbed his hand up and down your cold arm to wake you up, check up on you after yesterday’s ordeal.

A good friend of yours since primary school had said they didn’t want you in their life--to put it in a nicer, shorter way than what was actually said. If there were signs of a rift between you, then maybe it would have been easier to come to terms with.

But no. It was sudden. Very, very sudden.

Maybe that’s why you were in such a confused, dishevelled state when Hongjoong opened his front door.

Already briefly explaining to him what had happened on the drive to his place, you wasted no time to press yourself into him, lips locked and tears streaming down the red-hot skin of your face and neck.

A slight clench in his heart made him falter momentarily, not liking how weak you looked--but it was necessary.

She was trying to take his muse away from him, away from the artist who was the only one that could bring out your true potential on a canvas. What else could he do but use her past of drug dealing against her?

Then again, he didn’t mind this--you being so frail in front of him (so long as it was him alone). Any emotion you felt had subsequently made him feel something too; you being in pain had caused him the same and that was perfect inspiration for his works.

Feeling hurt was better than feeling nothing.

But right at that moment, his precious needed some love. Who was he to refuse you when you wanted to drown yourself in him? To have him because you lost the closest friend you had?

“Wake up, my love,” he mumbled into your shoulder, accompanied with the fluttering of soft, gentle kisses imprinting themselves onto your supple flesh. Groaning, you shook your head ever so slightly in your fatigued daze before falling right back into your dream land.

One which he hopes is full of him, since his are always brimming with you.

So he slips on top of you, covering you with his warm body and even warmer lips until you finally open your beautiful eyes. “Hongjoong,” you muttered, lazily returning the ones he plants on your mouth.

“Wake up,” he repeats.

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Because...”

He sees the sadness in your eyes and wants to take another picture. Of this gorgeous representation of the true blues.

“Because of what happened yesterday?”

So he presses your chin between his index finger and thumb, pointing it in the air so that he has your undivided attention. “Words, my love. I can’t know if you don’t use your words.”

No words passed your lips but the exhausted, downcast sight was more than enough of an answer for any person asking.

Except, not for Hongjoong. No, he wanted you to say it. Let it hang in the air so that you 100% understand and come to terms that this friend of yours is gone forever--but to also remind you he is still here.

Tearing up at remembering the exact events that occurred just after closing time, you spoke in a monotonous voice. “Yes, it was because of yesterday.”

Water streamed from the corner of your eyes, disappearing in your hair from the angle your head was at. But this look, this void in your expression despite the eyes full of feeling--this he loved to see, to burn into his memory.

They say eyes are the gateway of a person’s soul, and he can examine what exactly your soul is going through.

And he likes what he sees.

That was the first incidence. The next few were perhaps just as hard, though for different reasons.

Friends, family, co-workers. Your boyfriend didn't discriminate.

If they were a threat to your relationship with him--be it directly or indirectly--he was sure to remove them through various means of... persuasion.

One time, Hongjoong's blackmailing hadn't worked (regardless of his meticulous calculations) and your cousin was still trying to strip you from his life; in a less metaphorical sense, he found out about the pictures he took of you decided that the artist was too dangerous for you to be in a relationship with.

Your cousin didn't care about Hongjoong's threats.

He should have.

Because now you didn't believe a single thing he said. Not when you saw what Hongjoong had on him. However, one could say there was a slight miscalculation that arose from this situation.

Suspicions of how Hongjoong got those pictures of your cousin clouded your mind like mist. Yet, when you brought this up (as he was now the most trusted person in your life, a goal of his accomplished), he simply turned the question into something else.

Twisted the words so well that even you had forgotten the main purpose of asking him.

And so  the mist cleared... for the most part.

“Hongjoong?”

His eyes flickered between you and his current piece. “Don’t move, my love,” he breathed, hands steady as he painted your lips with watercolours.

Not wanting to ruin his hard work, your lips stayed pressed into its previous expression, eyes no longer looking at him. but at the floor as you put on this shy persona he requested for.

Before you met him, the idea of being painted sent unpleasant shivers down your spine--the thought felt very narcissistic in your opinion, but when he kept insisting that you were his muse? Well, there were only so many times you could refuse him.

By now, the two of you were married for five years, and this situation was common--but this particular one was not. After all, no one could miss the enormous baby bump you had to carry.

Twins, the doctor said.

Of course, Hongjoong wanted to paint this milestone--as he did with the previous ones that now appear to be insignificant, paling at the sight of you. Watercolours, specifically earthy tones, was a specific concept he had in mind, for reasons you couldn’t completely grasp yet.

“Okay, my love,” he groaned as he stretched his back, ready to move onto your torso. The part he was most eager to perfect. “What was it?”

Mouth opening and shutting like a fish, you ultimately decided on a sweet smile. “Nevermind.”

As it left your tongue, your husband sighed, throwing his brush and pallet onto a nearby surface before coming to kneel in front of you, fingers interlocking with your own. “Hey, hey, look at me.”

When you did, one of his paint stained palms lifted to caress your cheek, more full than before from the changes your body has had over the course of your pregnancy.

“There we go,” he smiled. “Now, tell me what you were going to say?”

“I-It was nothing, Joong. Really.”

“If it was ‘nothing’ like you said, then you wouldn’t have interrupted me, now would you? Now, tell me, my love. Tell me what’s wrong.” There was something about his expression as he looked at you that gave you a bit of on unsettled feeling.

“I-It’s just... Angela.” At the mention of your employee’s name, Hongjoong rolled his eyes.

Then it was gone, just like that.

“We’ve gone over this--”

Running his tongue against the inside of his right cheek, he sighed, letting his head hang loose for a moment before bringing it back up to look into your concerned eyes once more.

“Yeah but it’s just strange. First it was my cousin, now it’s her. I’m just unsure about how you got this information--is there something you’re not telling me?” Obviously, you didn't want to out-right ask if he had a PI on the people in her life, but the implication was there.

Hongjoong didn't like it at all.

“My love,” both hands dropped to cradle your pregnant womb, “I want you to remember one thing and one thing only. Can you do that for me?”

A nod from you, but you quickly caught yourself. Hongjoong wanted you to say what you want--he always has. “Yes.”

“Good... I want you to remember that I love you and our unborn children. I’ll do whatever I need to in order to save you all from harm.”

Of course, what he meant by harm was being taken away from him--but that’s a minor detail. He truly cared for you, and as fickle as emotions can be, he is so sure that this was it. Set in stone, like a statue.

“Okay,” you replied, and that was that. At least he gave you an answer, as cryptic as it might seem. Besides it wasn’t like this was unusual for you now. Already grown into accustoming into his ways, moulding yourself like clay over the ongoing course of your relationship.

Perhaps it was your hormones or the babies summersaulting in your body, but your stomach churned at the feeling of his gentle hands rubbing your bump. Like his touch there could have had a double meaning. As if he could not only protect them, but also hurt--

No.

Not Hongjoong.

He loved you three too much for that.

The only thing he loved more was his job--the two of you often joked...

It was a joke...

Right?

☕︎ Tag list: @yunhobabygurl ,

[evenifitrains]

Basics: Name: Charity Burbage. Pronunciation: cha-ruh-tee burr-bed-ge Meaning:  Latin origin, meaning dear and beloved. Birthday: August 7th. Age: 22. Pronouns: She/her. Sexuality: Pansexual. Siblings: Perry Burbage, Merrick Burbage, Walter Burbage and Lucile Burbage. Parents: Nick Burbage (muggle) and Mia Burbage (pure-blood). Both deceased. Other Family: Two grandparents (maternal), one uncle (maternal) and one aunt (paternal). Languages: English. Current Residence: Kingston, London. Hometown: Londonderry, Ireland.

Wizard Fun: Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw Year of Graduation: 1977. Occupation: Secretary for the Muggle Liaison Office. Pet: One ginger cat named Iago. Blood Status: Half-blood. Species: Human. Patronus: Dolphin. Boggart: Standing by and watching her house burn down again. Amortentia: Vanilla, her old farmhouse when it rained, old books, herbal tea. Wand type: Yew wood: Yew wands almost never embrace an owner who lacks courage or skill, that much has been clearly established. Interestingly, they are known to grow into adult trees when buried along with their partners Thunderbird-feather Core: The feather from the tail of a Thunderbird makes for a wand skilled in Transfiguration, well-able to sense danger and even cast curses on their own, but are, for all these reasons, exceptionally hard to master, for all their sheer power. Affiliation: Neutral.

Appearance: Height:  5’4 Hair Color: Light-brown. Eye Color: Brown. Typical Hair Style: Just grazing her shoulder, spelled to curl up at the ends. Fashion Style: Comfortably rich. Preppy dresses, cardigans, headbands, red lipstick. Distinguishing Features: Calculating eyes and a constant almost smile. Scars on her hands from cigarette ash. Personality: Fiercely loyal, smug, not afraid to ask for what she wants, attentive to those she loves most. Positive Traits: Protective, empathetic. Negative Traits: Know-it-all, egotistical.

Quick Facts: Theme song: Femme Fatale - The Velvet Underground. Queen of Disaster - Lana Del Rey. Head-canons:

Only uses ribbons to tie her hair.

Always has two different lipsticks in her handbag.

Talks in her sleep.

Is almost determined to prove she hasn’t been traumatised by her childhood. Buys candles, uses the fireplace as much as she can, smokes.

Cannot whistle.

Buys lots of hats, but rarely wears them.

Amazing liar, but can always tell when someone is lying to her.

Tendency to notice every single little detail about everything.

Incredibly small handwriting.

Has a horrible sweet-tooth.

Likes to make direct eye-contact, especially when the other is uncomfortable with it.

Rather mean-spirited.

Knows a lot of constellations and always points them out.

Can be overbearing to those she loves, isn’t afraid to tell them the hard truths.

Bio:

Charity Burbage is the youngest of five children born to Nick and Mia Burbage, and the only child to be given such a pompous first name. She and her siblings were raised in Northern Ireland, sharing a farmhouse with her fathers side of the family. For muggles, they took the news of Mia’s magical status surprisingly easily and seemed to be more excited to see the magical potential of the children than Mia was herself. On Charity’s fifth birthday, she demanded a cake just like one she’d seen in a commercial. Her older brothers and sister took her out to a nearby lake while they waited, running around and playing and testing out the new toys she’d gotten that morning. They were very harshly interrupted by the sound of the town’s one and only fire-engine barreling towards their property. They all ran so fast that Charity remembers it more like flying. There was nothing left of their house or belongings by the time they arrived. She can’t properly remember what exactly had happened, always too hesitant to make one of her siblings relive it. Something about the oven being faulty.

All five of the Burbage children survived, and their aunt Nora - but being only freshly twenty herself, she could not look after them. So they were sent to live with their second set of grandparents, lugging their un-charred belongings all the way to Surrey. Her grandparents were both of pure blood, and they tried their hardest to love the children even though they were not. Her mother’s decision to accept her father’s proposal had caused a ridge in the family, but luckily that grudge was not put onto the children. They essentially assimilated into pure blood society, only interacting with the muggle world when absolutely necessary. Charity remembers how quickly her older sister lost her accent and started speaking like the adults around them. As the youngest, Charity was often overlooked. Pushed aside in favour of her older brothers who had already started representing the family name at Hogwarts. She quickly learned that disruptive behaviour was her only surefire way of being seen. As a result of this, she was quite often pawned off to be babysat by her uncle, a tough man who wouldn’t bat an eye no matter how much mischief she found her way into. The only thing she’d liked about that man was the large book collection he had in his study, so the two of them quickly came to a compromise. If she left him alone, she was welcome to which ever books she pleased. By the time she was ten, he started ordering them in especially for her as she’d finished with all the others. It was no surprise to him when she was sorted into Ravenclaw.

Hogwarts was nothing special to Charity, appearing exactly as it had in the books on her shelves and the stories from her siblings. What she really loved were the other students. Watching them learn. No two students were the same there, even the children from the ridiculously long lines of pureblood families. She must’ve offended her siblings with the amount of times she blew them off in favour of listening to her peers. She especially loved the muggle-borns, catching up on the world she’d been forced out of. The books on muggle culture here uncle owned were terribly outdated and had never helped quench that thirst she’d had since the night of the fire. The combination of this and her 100% grade in Muggle Studies led to the revelation that she wanted to do this for the rest of her life - study muggles. Her grandparents weren’t thrilled, spending weeks and weeks trying to talk her down. The compromise they eventually came to was: “you’ll be a secretary for some kind of muggle office, a secretary is a proper job for a respectable young lady to do.” Charity took it and ran, moving in with her uncle before they could change their minds. She applied for any business that had ‘muggle’ in the title as soon as she graduated, giddy with the right to decide her own destiny for once and spending every spare second pooling over muggle media. Of course, she knew a secretary was not expected to know much beyond typing - she’d learned that at the secretarial classes her grandfather had gifted her. But Charity Burbage would rather die than not be knowledgeable.

She sides with the order, but quietly. Her career is too important to her to involve herself in politics, having seen people being fired for doing such. She knows it hypocritical, to capitalise off of muggles and yet stand silently by while a threat to their freedom lurks. But she knows she’ll be of more help to them the higher up she climbs.

Wanted Connections: Twin Flame: The two of you are exactly the same. Or couldn’t be further apart. Either way, you fit together perfectly. The line between romantic and platonic are always a little bit blurred for you two, ready to do whatever the other needs. Charity doesn’t need her game face around you, she feels safe to say and do whatever she wants. Workmates: You both share the same passion for the muggle world and don’t do much else other than talk about it. You have witnessed to full front of Charity’s drive, and perhaps fallen victim to it too. Maybe you are closer to rivals than colleagues. Friends: You can put up with her arrogant appearance enough to get to the girl underneath. She would do almost anything for you, things you’d probably never expect from how she acts. You’re probably a muggle-born or half-blood. Maybe a pureblood with a good personality, but Charity has yet to find one of those. “Victims��: Despite her great desire for a relationship, Charity has little patience for dating. She can be elusive and detached and excruciatingly picky. She leaves a steady trail of peoples she’s hurt - sometimes deliberately - do you resent her for it?

[bellemorte180]

Wanderlust Chapter Two

Chapter Two:

Much like the police station, Mystic Falls General was small. It was sufficient enough for the town’s population and needs. However, Klaus could tell that some areas where outdated and operated with a small staff. It was a trend Klaus saw in small towns; they lacked the resources of bigger cities but always made do with what they had. He admired them for that. However, that did not stop Klaus from hating hospitals in general. They always felt far to sterile and clinical for his taste. Although, part of his hatred could steam from the fact that he never had good experiences in one; especially as a child. Then most of his time spent in hospitals as an adult were interviewing trauma victims. Mystic Falls General was no different in that regard.

The halls had the same soulless white industrial walls that Klaus always felt sucked his soul away. The floors were made of unimportant, sterile tile that was designed for easy cleanup. He bypassed the front desk, flashing his badge as he went, and wondered down the hall towards the room he knew Caroline was in.

It had been twenty-four hours since she brought herself into the station. In the time while Caroline was going to the hospital with her mother, Marcel and Klaus interviewed April Young’s father. Klaus came to the determination that Pastor Young was a worthless human being. If he did not have an airtight alibi for Caroline’s disappearance, an evening bible study that had at least twenty people in attendance, he might consider him a suspect. However, despite the fact that he was willing to disown his pregnant adult daughter, Klaus did not believe he was capable of killing her.

So, while Marcel went to interview Andi Star’s parents, Klaus made is way to the hospital in order to speak with Caroline; who had a police officer standing outside her door at all times of the day and night. Liz spent the evening with her daughter, sleeping at the hospital, but was back station first thing in the morning.

And Liz was pissed.

Gone was the distraught mother who was facing the loss of her daughter and replaced was a mama bear who was out for blood. While she knew that she had been removed from the case, it did not stop her from wanting to know everything about what was going on. Klaus and Marcel told her what they could, but they knew better than to reveal certain details. Klaus worried that if Liz discovered who the culprit was, that there would be no one to arrest if she got their hands on them. Something Klaus could not blame her for.

“I’m here to speak with Dr. Fell.” Klaus asked the nurse behind the counter in Caroline’s ward. The nurse smiled a little too widely at him and her eyes drifted over him. The nurse had to be in her late twenties with light brown hair. She was pretty but the ring on her finger clearly told Klaus that she was taken and her unprofessionalism at her ogling turned him off. His eyes flickered down to her name tag and had the urge to roll his eyes. In annoyance, he pulled out his badge. “Special Agent Klaus Mikaelson, page Dr. Fell please. Thank you, Jules.”

He sat in the small empty waiting room, waiting for the doctor. He pulled out his phone and began scrolling through communications that April’s employer sent over. She had turned in her notice prior coming to Mystic Falls. Her resignation indicated that she intended to move home in order to raise her baby. While Klaus had no concrete evidence, he could only assume that the disagreement she had with her father changed her plans. Either way, she was not expected back in Richmond and no one realized she was missing.

“Agent Mikaelson?” Klaus looked away from his phone to gaze at the doctor. She was of medium height, brown hair that was pulled back into a ponytail, olive skin and a square jaw line. She was in the typical white lab coat and had a stethoscope hanging around her neck. She had what appeared to be a file in her hand. She held out her free hand for Klaus to shake and he stood, taking her hand. “Dr. Meredith Fell. You were asking to speak with me?”

“Yes. I was hoping to discuss Caroline Forbes’s injuries.”

“I figured as much. Would you like to go in here?” Dr. Fell pointed to a small room just off the waiting room. “It will be more private.” Klaus agreed and followed Dr. Fell over to the small room. Inside, there were only two ugly armchairs in the room and a small coffee table. The florescent lights that rested in the ceiling caused the room to appear far smaller and darker that it was actually. “This is typically the room we use when we have to share bad news with patient’s families. I’d take you to my office but Dr. Maxfield and I are sharing and there is not much privacy.”

“This is perfectly fine.” Klaus sat down on one of the chairs, Dr. Fell following suit. She flipped open the folder and pulled out a piece of paper; handing it to Klaus. He looked over it and could see what he assumed was Caroline’s signature on the bottom. “What is this?”

“A release form. I had Caroline sign it this morning. It states that she is allowing me and only me, discuss her case with either you or your partner.” Klaus raised an eyebrow at her in question. Typically, he had to fight tooth and nail to get a doctor to speak with him about victims who were still living, the issues of doctor patient confidentiality, while important and necessary, was a difficult obstacle for law enforcement to jump over. “Liz, I mean Sheriff Forbes, explained to Caroline that you would be coming to ask questions. I think you’ll find that Caroline is going to be very cooperative. She is very angry right now. Among other things.”

“I can’t blame her for that.” He looked over the release form again, silently thanking Liz. Dr. Fell handed over the rest of the file and Klaus flipped through it. Inside was a detailed report from Dr. Fell and several photographs showing her injuries. “How is she?”

“Honestly, she is focusing on anger right now. When she came in yesterday, she was in a complete state of shock. It took a while for the nurses and I to get her to let us clean her up. Liz held her hand the entire time. Once we were able to complete the physical exam, she started screaming and crying hysterically.” Dr. Fell closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Dr. Maxfield was the original physician who was going treat her, she refused, and we thought it would be best for a female to help her. Whoever had her, was most definitely male.”

“Rape kit?”

“Came back negative.” Klaus let out a breath that he had not realized he was holding. However, a theory he had been silently thinking on was just confirmed. At the very least, Caroline had been spared that torment, but it did not ease the sickening feeling pooling in Klaus’s stomach. “Mostly, she was malnourished and dehydrated. She had some drugs in her system, Dilaudid. I think it was used to keep her compliant, but they must have worn off if she was able to get away.”

“When she came into the station yesterday, her feet were bloody, and she appeared to be cradling her left hand.” Klaus asked and Dr. Fell nodded. “And her head seemed to have a cut that appeared rather fresh.”

“Yes. Her feet are pretty cut up but that had to be from running in the woods while not wearing shoes.” Klaus nodded, making a note of Dr. Fell’s use of term woods. He gave her an odd look. “I asked Caroline how each of her injuries happened. She told me that she was running in the woods.” Dr. Fell reached over and pulled out one of the pictures of Caroline’s wrists. “Her left wrist is broken.”

“How?”

“Self-inflicted.”

“What?”

“He kept her handcuffed to something. When Caroline realized he had been gone for a while and that the drugs left her system enough for her to escape, she knew if she broke her wrist, she would be able to slide her hand out of the cuffs.” Klaus took a deep breath. “There are also scrapes from the cuffs that indicate some of her skin was left on the metal.”

“Jesus.” He looked over the photo and the report; the more he learned about Caroline he couldn’t help but respect her more and more. She was fighter; a survivor. She was willing to do anything to save herself, even if it meant causing herself harm in the process. It was rare that Klaus saw that kind of strength and it fascinated him. He could only hope that this event did not diminish the young woman who was so full of light in her photos. “Anything else?”

“Her arms were covered in bruises which I believe came from him injecting the Dilaudid into her system improperly. The head injury she obtained when she fell in the woods, but it appears that her kidnapper didn’t want to harm her too much, just to keep her. The drugs he had her on where substantial. I plan on keeping her here for a few days to make sure she doesn’t suffer from withdrawal and she might have a rough few days ahead of her.”

“It will be a lot longer than a few days for her to recover from this.” Klaus muttered and Dr. Fell nodded in agreement. “Thank you, doctor. If you notice anything else, please call me.”

“Of course.” Dr. Fell held out her hand and Klaus took it. They left the small room and Dr. Fell turned back around. “Agent Mikaelson?” Klaus stopped and turned to look at the doctor. “I used to babysit Caroline when she was little. She always had such life in her. Seeing her the way I did yesterday…you find him. You find who did this because I don’t want another person going through what she did.”

“You have word.” A look passed between them and Klaus’s memory flashed back to his childhood. He could understand the protectiveness Dr. Fell felt, because he felt something similar before. He understood the need to hold someone close after a tragedy. What was going on in Mystic Falls would either pull this community together or tear them apart completely.

Klaus turned and walked down the hallway towards, thinking on the doctor’s words. It was a small town so it was no surprise that Caroline would know the doctor who treated her. He calculated her wounds in his head and the relief he felt at the negative rape kit; no matter how puzzling that fact was to him. Clearly, this was not about sex or the power over women, it was something else completely and Klaus was at a loss as to what it could be.

He was pulled from his thoughts quickly when he heard a commotion coming from down the hospital wing; directly outside of Caroline’s room. He turned a corner quickly and saw one of Liz’s deputies standing between a man with broad shoulders, jet black hair and expensive clothing. A smaller woman with chocolate skin, short brown hair and a furious look on her face was screaming at him. If it wasn’t for the officer holding her back, Klaus was certain she might have attacked him.

“You’re a piece of shit Tyler! She doesn’t want to see you.”

“Bonnie, she is my fiancé-.”

“Ex-fiancé! You lost that right a year ago. Leave. Now. She said she didn’t want to see you.” Bonnie hissed through clenched teeth. “You know that concept?! When someone asks to be left alone, you do the right thing and leave them the fuck alone.”

“Is there a problem here?” Klaus asked, his hands in the pocket of his jeans. He nodded to the police officer, whose name card read Deputy Martinson, and stepped between the two of them.

“Who the hell are you?” Tyler asked with narrowed eyes. His dark eyes evaluated Klaus’s appearance as though he was sizing up competition. In the back of Klaus’s mind, he remembered Liz telling him that Caroline had called off an engagement with the Mayor’s son and given the fact that this man reeked of entitlement, that only made sense to him.

“Agent Mikaelson with the FBI.” He pulled out his badge and flashed to the man. The woman, Bonnie, smirked and crossed her arms. He cocked his eyebrow at her, for intense and purposes, she was the one causing the scene but given the circumstances, Klaus wasn’t going to make a fuss as long at Tyler left the hospital. His first concern is Caroline and if she does not want him there, that was that. “Who are you and can I ask why you’re causing a scene outside Ms. Forbes’s hospital room?”

“Tyler Lockwood; Caroline’s fiancé and I want to see her.”

“From what I understand, according to her mother and from what-“He looked towards the woman “what is your name miss?”

“Bonnie Bennet.”

“From what Sheriff Forbes and Ms. Bennet have stated, your engagement has ended.” Klaus replied, looking Tyler directly in the eye. “Now. Ms. Forbes has been through enough. If she does not want you here, I will have you escorted out of this hospital if you refuse to leave. The same goes for you Ms. Bennet. I understand your desire to protect your friend but now is not the time to cause a scene.” Bonnie nodded in understanding but continued to shoot daggers with her eyes at Tyler.

“Look man, I don’t want to cause a scene. I just want to see my girl. That’s all.”

“Mr. Lockwood, it’s not about what you want. I don’t care what you want. I care about Ms. Forbes well-being and catching who did this to her. If that means she does not want to see you, then you need to leave. Now.” Klaus looked towards the deputy. “Please escort him out.”

The deputy nodded and gripped Tyler’s arm; who immediately pulled it out of his grasp. He watched them go and turned towards Bonnie, who was still standing there with her arms crossed. She watched Tyler being escorted out of the hospital. She turned to see Klaus observing her; studying her. It was unnerving and it felt as though he could see right through her.

“Are you alright?” Klaus asked her and she nodded.

“Yes. Sorry about that. He just makes me so angry.” Bonnie replied and Klaus nodded. He could see the protectiveness in her eyes, and he admired that about her. It provided some relief that Caroline would be surrounded by people that would help her through because she had a long haul in front of her. “Caroline asked for him to leave. He wouldn’t.”

“He does not seem to be someone who takes no for an answer?” Klaus asked; making a mental note to pull Tyler’s criminal history, if there was any, and look into him further. Bonnie nodded but glared at him with suspicious eyes. “I’m not the enemy here. You and I want the same thing. Now, go cool off. Get a cup of coffee or something. I need to speak with Ms. Forbes.”

Klaus could see the hesitation in Bonnie’s eyes. She did not want to leave Caroline, but she could agree that she was still very angry. She pursed her lips and nodded. She looked back at the open door and turned inside of the hospital room; Klaus following behind her. When he entered the stereotypical hospital room, he saw Caroline resting on the bed; but she was not alone. Sitting beside her was another woman with long brown hair and big doe eyes. Caroline’s head was resting against her shoulder and being held close to her.

“Caroline, Elena? I’m going to grab some coffee. Do you want anything?” Bonnie asked and Caroline shook her head in the negative. “Elena?” Bonnie looked at her other friend and Klaus could see something pass between them. Elena’s eyes flickered to Klaus, who was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

“Go Elena. I’ll be fine.” Caroline’s voice, which sounded stronger than it had the day before. Klaus took in her appearance. Her hair had been washed and pulled up into a messy bun. The color of her hair was lighter than the day before. She had been cleaned of the dirt, debris and blood that was etched onto her skin. She wore a light blue sweater due to the freezing temperatures the hospital staff kept the air-conditioning at. He couldn’t help but notice that the color suited her, bringing the blue of her eyes. “Stop staring at me. It’s creepy.”

Her sharp tone caused Klaus to break from his trance. Her eyes were narrowed at him, but they seemed more annoyed than angry. He could not explain it but there was something captivating about her; her strength and the way she didn’t back down from him made him understand how she was able to fight to stay alive.

“Caroline? Are you sure?” Elena asked, her eyes darting between Caroline and Klaus. Caroline turned to her friend and nodded.

“Go. I’ll be fine. He won’t hurt me.” Caroline’s voice sounded determined and forceful, causing Elena to nod. Elena crawled off the bed and she went to pick up two bags resting on the window seal. She handed one bag to Bonnie and the two women left the room; eyeing Klaus as they did. Once alone, Klaus walked over to window and grabbed the armchair that was stationed against the ledge. He pulled the chair up by her hospital bed and sat down; Caroline’s eyes following wherever he went.

“My apologies about staring, Ms. Forbes. I sometimes get focused on my job and I wanted to ensure that you were well.”

“Caroline.”

“What?”

“Not Ms. Forbes. Call me Caroline.” This caused Klaus to smile widely at her, his dimples protruding. Caroline narrowed her eyes, but he could tell that she wasn’t angry at him. If anything, she was amused with him. “And who are you? British secret agent guy?”

“My apologize Caroline, I am Agent Niklaus Mikaelson but please, call me Klaus.” Caroline nodded, but he could tell that she already knew that. Between the commotion in the hallway and the forewarning Liz had given her, Klaus could tell that she had been preparing herself for this moment. “How are you feeling?”

“Well, that is a loaded question.” Caroline muttered, looking down at her hands; her fingers tracing over the cast on her left arm. “Physically? I’ll heal and once I can stop shaking and stop having these damn chills, I’ll be okay.”

“You were on a hefty dose of drugs. Your body is going through withdrawal.” Caroline shot him a look, letting him know that she knew exactly what was causing her symptoms. “But I want to know how you’re really doing Caroline. Yes, your injuries will heal but that does not mean that you’re fine.” Caroline stayed silent but had gone very still. “You’re strong and the fact that you’re sitting up, holding a conversation with me tells me that you’re stronger than you’re giving yourself credit for; but it’s okay not to be fine right now. It’s okay to fall apart.”

“Yeah? Who made you the expert?”

“I’ve been doing this job for a long time.” Klaus replied. “And I’m no stranger to trauma.”

Caroline looked at him, searching his face. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her but that did not mean she could trust him. Trust was something she did not have for strangers, or anyone, at the moment. Yet, there was something in his face, the way he spoke; it was as though he genially understood the pain she was in. This went beyond a simple job for him. Her mother’s words echoed in her mind; Liz was trusting this man to catch the monster who lurked in their town and that meant something to Caroline.

“Right. Sorry.” Caroline whispered and Klaus nodded. “And thank you for what you said in the hallway…and sending Tyler away.” Caroline bit her lip; thinking on what to say. “I’m not okay, but I will be. I refuse to let this break me. Whoever he was; I won’t let him win.”

“You didn’t see him? Or recognize him?” Caroline shook her head. Klaus suspected as much. Between being drugged and the trauma, there was a good chance that Caroline would not be able to point out who her attacker was. “What can you tell me?”

“I was coming home from work. I remember being on my porch, hearing Enzo barking more than normal. I didn’t think anything of it. Then I felt a pinch in my neck, and everything went fuzzy.” Her right hand went up to her neck as though tracing the spot he assumed her assailant punctured her neck. “Next thing I know is I’m waking up in a small cell. I was chained to the railings.”

“Did you ever come in contact with your attacker? Ever see him?”

“No. He always came in with his face covered. Typically, with a mask, like the ones you always seen the bad guy wearing in movies. He would inject me with something, I don’t know what it was.”

“The tox screen Dr. Fell provided me showed that you had traces of Dilaudid in your system.” Klaus replied and Caroline gave him a confused look. “Some people on the street call it drug store heroin. One of the main side effects is drowsiness. It is what he used to sedate you.” Klaus paused, a thought occurring to him; a fact Dr. Fell mentioned when she briefed him on Caroline’s injuries. “You said he injected you? He never forced you to take a tablet or consume anything?”

“No, well, he would give me some food on a few occasions but he always injected me with something.” Caroline paused, seeing that Klaus’s mind was working in overdrive. His eyes glanced over her again and he slowly reached out, indicating that he was going to touch her; Caroline nodded her head, allowing him access. Klaus never took his eyes off her. He was gentle and slowly pushed the light blue fabric up her right arm. Her skin was covered in bruises up and down her arm; especially on parts of her arm where she had easy access to her veins. “Is that helpful?”

“Possibly. Can you think of anything else?”

“Yes.” Caroline looked at Klaus and he could tell that she was uncomfortable. “I never saw him but when I would get drowsy or tired, he would take the mask off. My vision was so hazy I could never see him clearly but, he would hold me. He never was violent with me. He would just take me in his arms and just…rock me? He would beg me not to leave. Over and over again he said that I had to stay with him.” Caroline’s voice cracked and she brought her knees up to her chest. Tears started to fall and her chested began to heave. Klaus could hear the sharpness of her breath in her chest and knew that the memories were causing her to panic.

“Caroline, it’s okay. Let it out.” Klaus reached for her hand and held it tightly. Seeing her cry, it tore at him and he wanted nothing more than to fix it. He wanted to track down the monster who did this to her and cause him physical pain. Klaus could feel that pure fury bubbling under his skin. A woman with so much light inside her should not be touched by such darkness.

“He was going to kill me, wasn’t he?” She sobbed out; her hand clutching Klaus’s tightly as though it was her lifeline. Klaus was unable to answer, torn between being truthful and not wanting to hurt her further. The silence however, told Caroline everything she wanted to know. Her tears only started falling faster. “My mom told me about the bodies by the Falls. He was going to do the same to me. Wasn’t he?”

“I believe so, yes.” Klaus’s voice was low and sad. Caroline’s face grew red and Klaus could see the anger bursting through. He was getting whip flash from the change in her moods, but it was to be expected. She almost died. She was drugged and held against her will and Klaus knew that her emotions were going into overdrive. Caroline started to move to crawl out of the bed causing Klaus to jump to his feet. “What are you doing?”

“I need to get out of here.” Her voice was hard as she kicked the covers off her legs. Klaus noticed that her feet were bandaged and assumed she should not be walking on them. He ran around the bed and caught her quickly as she slid out of the bed. He lifted her up bridal style into his arms. She didn’t’ resist but instead wrapped her arms around his shoulders, burring her face into his neck. Klaus couldn’t help but enjoy the feel of her body resting against him; mentally scolding himself for the thought.

“You need to stay in bed. It is only for a couple days and then you can go home.” Klaus whispered in her head, feeling the tears hit his neck. He sat down on the hospital bed, pulling Caroline close. “Nothing is going to happen to you Caroline. I will find who did this. I promise you. I will not let anything happen to you.”

“I believe you.” She replied, her face still buried in his neck. She pulled back and looked at him in the eye. Klaus could see it; she did trust him, and he felt a deep urge to protect her; to erase all the pain that she was feeling. He had interviewed hundreds of victims in the last six years of hunting predators and he never felt such pull. There was something inherently good about her that made him angry that such darkness touched her. “I want you to find him and I want to look him in the eye. I want to tell him that he didn’t beat me.”

“You will. I promise. You will.” Klaus whispered, vowing that he would move heaven and earth to give her that vengeance. Caroline nodded and moved to sit back on the bed. She brought her knees to her chest again. While she was still clearly shaken, there was a fire that lingered under her skin. Klaus suddenly remembered Dr. Fell’s words about Caroline being angry. Memories of her home invaded his thoughts. The life he knew she had before everything changed was in the forefront of his mind. He enjoyed the woman he learned about from those photos, habits and memories from third parties; but this woman in front of him was far beyond what he expected. “There is one other thing I need to ask you before I let you rest.”

“Okay.”

“I need you to tell me about Damon Salvatore.” Caroline startled and cocked her head at Klaus. She did not expect him to ask her about her high school boyfriend. She studied his face. His face was expressionless, showing nothing behind his grey-blue eyes. Gone was the soft and gentle man who held her moments ago; replaced by the FBI agent her mother told her about.

“Why?” Caroline asked in a quiet tone. The second the question left her lips, in clicked in her mind. “Damon? You think he did this?”

“We are looking at all avenues.”

“I’ll admit that when I was in that cell, there was something…. familiar about the man that had me, but I can’t say that it was Damon.” Klaus didn’t reply but he kept looking at her. He wanted to tell her more, but he could not say much. He did not believe that Caroline would jeopardize the investigation into her kidnapping and these murders, but it was a small town and people talk. “What do you want to know?”

“Your mother said that the two of you dated in high school?” Klaus asked and Caroline nodded. He remembered the dark tone Liz used the day before and got the feeling that the relationship was a toxic one. From how Caroline shifted in her seat, it only confirmed Klaus’s suspicions. He had yet to meet than and he could already say that he did not like him.

“Yeah. For almost two years. Um, it was in the beginning of my junior year. He was a senior.” Caroline shook her head. “It all started because I was insecure and shallow. My best friend, Elena, was dating Damon’s brother, Stefan. I was jealous so I thought dating the older brother was the way go.”

“Go on.”

“Quickly I came to realize that Damon had feelings for Elena.” Klaus nodded, thinking back on the young woman who was in the room earlier. He was completely focused on Caroline that he had not noticed her beyond observing her interactions with her friend. “However, instead of walking away, I stayed. We fought all the time. He called me shallow and useless; and I just took it.”

“What are you not telling me Caroline?” Klaus asked. Her eyes were downcast, as though she did not want to look at him. She picked at her nails and he could tell that memories were replaying in her mind. He thought on Liz’s reaction and how she appeared to hate Damon. “What did he do to you?”

“Before I tell you, please understand that I’m not that girl anymore.” Caroline whispered. “I was very self-conscious, and I tried so hard to please everyone. I thought that I didn’t deserve any better.” There was a slight tear in her eye, and she raised her hand to wipe it away. “He would get angry if I didn’t do exactly what he wanted, or if I said something that upset him. I was about eight months into the relationship when he hit me for the first time.”

“The first time?” Klaus asked, his hand clenched at his side. He knew how domestic violence worked. It was slow. They built up to their abuse; gaslighting their victims and slowly removing them from their friends and family. “This happened more than once? Your mother did nothing?”

“My mom didn’t know. She worked a lot; my dad was gone, and I was really good at hiding things. She didn’t even know I was dating Damon until the end of my senior year.” Klaus seemed surprised by that fact. Liz seemed very astute and noticed everything around her. The fact that she would miss something so important happening right under her nose baffled Klaus. “He got very angry one day. Something with his brother and Elena. He put me in the hospital. Mom arrested him and he was charged with assault and battery. The Salvatore family is rich, and he had a good lawyer. When I say our relationship ended at that point, that is an understatement. When mom realized what was going on, she put a end to it.”

“What is your relationship like now?” His tone was clip; anger cursing through his veins. Looking at Caroline now, bruised and injured, he could only imagine how a teenage version of Caroline being hurt in such a way would be like. Klaus tried to clear his mind, trying not to allow his personal experiences with domestic violence get in the way. He needed to remain objective.

“Honestly? I avoid him as much as possible.” Caroline looked at him and gave him a humorless laugh. “But it is a small town and no matter how often I go out of the country or duck and run at the sight of him, Damon is impossible to avoid. Given the fact that Elena is engaged to Stefan and I’m a bridesmaid in her wedding and Damon is the best man, I’m sure you can understand how avoidance is difficult.”

“Your friend is putting you in the same wedding party as your abuser?” Klaus was baffled but his respect for Caroline continued to grow. Her strength did not just come from the woman who raised her, but her life experiences made her to be able to stand on her own two feet. “She sounds like an awful friend, love.”

“Ten years is a long time. It’s ancient history.”

“Not that ancient. Not for something like that.” Klaus replied and they shared a look. He could see the relief pass through Caroline’s eyes; finally feeling heard. Not having to put on a fake smile and ignore the blatant disregard for her feelings. “You deserve so much better than that.”

“No wonder my mom likes you so much. You share a lot of the same opinions.” Caroline stated, attempting to tease him but her voice lacked the conviction. He gave her small smile; not wanting to admit that the idea of earning Liz’s respect pleased him. The woman was terrifying, but he couldn’t help but admire her tenacity. “God, you must think I have terrible taste in men. There’s Damon and you’ve already met Tyler.”

“What happened there?” His voice dropped his special agent tone for a more curious one. Caroline laughed humorlessly again. Klaus wondered what a genuine laugh from her would sound like.

“The age of old tale of infidelity. I came home early from a trip to France. Found him in bed with another woman.” She rolled her eyes. “Kicked him out that night. He has been trying to weasel his way back into my heart and bed ever since. However, if Damon taught me anything; it’s that I’m worth more than that.”

“You’re right. You are worth more than that.” They shared a look, but it only lasted a second when a knock on the hospital door interrupted them. They both turned to see Bonnie and Elena standing in the door. Bonnie had two what appeared to be very sugary coffee drinks in her hand; Elena carrying her own.

“Sorry. Are we interrupting? We thought you would be done.” Elena replied, her eyes darting between the two of them. Klaus stood from the hospital bed and smiled at the two of them before looked back at Caroline. He pulled out his wallet and handed her his card.

“We’re all finished. If you think of anything else, let me know. Call me anytime, even at midnight, okay?” Caroline nodded and took the card. She looked at his name on the card before giving him a small smile. She thanked him and he just gave her a dimpled filled grin. Bonnie walked around the bed to stand by Caroline and handed her one of the drinks in her hand.

“I know you said you didn’t want anything, but I picked you up something anyway. French vanilla Frappuccino, full fat because we are not having any of this healthy, fat free nonsense with whipped cream on top.” Bonnie said and Caroline smiled, taking the drink from her. Elena curling up in the chair that Klaus had just vacated.

As he headed towards the door, Klaus looked over his shoulder. Caroline was sipping on her sugar filled drink and giving her friends a smile; but Klaus could see it was forced. She was putting on a show and building up a wall; enclosing herself from those she cared for. It was painful for Klaus to see. There was just something about her that got under his skin.

Klaus continued to watch her for a moment and caught Caroline’s eye. Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly but her smile seemed sincere when she looked back at him; as though she did not have to hide behind the wall that she was trying to construct around herself. Klaus knew he needed Caroline to trust him in order to solve this case; what he wasn’t expecting was the desire to earn that trust for himself.

Klaus walked out of the room and strolled down the hallway; pure fury spawning in the pit of his stomach; threatening to claw its way out of his chest. His mind racing towards a thousand scenarios and possibilities. Knowing what would have happened to Caroline if she did not escape her prison, sent chills down Klaus’s spine. He thought back on Camille, the fourth victim. They looked similar. Both tall and blonde. It wasn’t hard for him to imagine Caroline in her place. Klaus imagined what the killer would have done to her body once he strangled the life out of her.

The thought was sickening.

Klaus’s phone vibrated in his pants and he pulled it out to see his partner’s name flash across the screen.

“Done at the Star residence?” Klaus asked, trying to sound neutral. He had been working with Marcel for well over two years, having trained him when he started in this department. Marcel knew him well and could read him; the last thing he wanted his partner to know what that he found their star witness captivating.

“Yes. Her parents are distraught, but they had already come to terms with the fact that their daughter is dead. Doesn’t make it any easier though to have it confirmed. I got them to agree not to contact her former employers for the time being. Last thing we need is this turning into a media circus.” Marcel chimed in and Klaus was unsurprised. Andi had been missing for months with no hint of being found. Disappearing for that long typically only meant one thing. “I found out something interesting though.”

“Well don’t leave me in suspense.”

“Remember how officer Donovan mentioned that his sister had a thing with Damon Salvatore? And how Liz mentioned that he was also Caroline’s high school boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

“Guess who was in a long distance, on again off again relationship with him?”

“Andi Star?” Klaus asked, stopping in the middle of the hallway. He read Andi’s file and the investigation into her disappearance. She had been reported as single and having no boyfriend. Unless, they kept the relationship private or were on a break, no one knew she was in a relationship. He went back and forth with the scenarios.

“Yup.”

“I think it is time we went and had a chat with Mr. Salvatore.”

[dogbearinggifts]

“Dad Sent Me to the Moon” vs. “Because Dad Made Me”

How Luther and Vanya Talk About Trauma, Part One

In this fandom, I’ve heard a lot about Luther and Vanya. 

Most of the things I’ve heard about Luther are negative. He constantly whines about his time on the Moon. He won’t shut up about how he had it worse than everyone else. He invalidates his siblings’ trauma. Meanwhile, Vanya is spoken of as if she’s his polar opposite: a kind, timid woman who genuinely did have it worse than everyone else but suffers nobly in silence while quietly ensuring her siblings are okay. I wanted to see if these perceptions were accurate, so I decided to take an empirical approach. During my sixth rewatch, I noted every time Luther mentions the Moon or Vanya mentions her exclusion, as well as how each of them responds to hearing of someone else’s trauma.

I want to stress that I am not out to throw one character under the bus. I’m not out to prove that Vanya is the actual worst and that Luther is the literal best, or that Vanya is amazing and Luther is awful. I’ve just heard a lot about both characters from within the fandom and I want to see how strongly the show itself supports the fandom’s perceptions. I won’t be examining every quote they have, and I won’t be looking at every scene they’re in. A deep study of both characters would certainly be fun, but for now, I’m only interested in how they address their own trauma and how they respond to the trauma of others. 

Note: I’ve chosen not to include Vanya’s book as a mention of her trauma. While her book does indeed bring it up and examine it in detail, I wasn’t sure how to quantify it for my own purposes. Do I count it as a single mention, because she only wrote it down once, and thus risk underestimating its impact? Do I count each sale as a separate mention, guesstimate the number based on how many copies sold it takes to reach bestseller status, and therefore grossly inflate her numbers? Because the book is impossible to quantify with any sort of accuracy, I’ve chosen to leave it aside. Rather, I will keep my trauma counts limited to what Luther and Vanya say to friends or family members. This also means I won’t include her voice-over while we see her writing her book, or the moments where she reads excerpts aloud. 

I’ve also chosen to write down the exact quote each time Luther or Vanya mentions their respective trauma or respond to someone else’s trauma. I’ll share my analysis, but I also want to give you all the chance to see each quote for yourselves and make your own judgments. You’re welcome to disagree with my conclusions and take or leave them as you see fit.  However, because these analyses will become lengthy in places, I plan to do only a few episodes at a time.

Episode 1: We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals

No explicit mentions of trauma from either Luther or Vanya. It’s established that Luther lived on the Moon for a while and that Vanya was raised to believe she had no powers and excluded from the family dynamic as a result, but neither one addresses what they went through. 

Episode 2: Run Boy Run

Following the episode opener—a flashback to the day Five time-traveled and accidentally got stuck in the apocalypse—we hear Five share the harrowing details of his time there. Eating cockroaches, subsisting on scavenged food, learning the hard way that Twinkies do in fact expire—it’s pretty awful stuff. After Vanya takes it in stunned silence, we have this exchange: 

Five: You think I’m crazy.  Vanya: No, it’s just…it’s a lot to take in.  Five: Exactly what don’t you understand?  Vanya: Why didn’t you just time-travel back?  Five: Gee, wish I’d thought of that. Time-travel is a crapshoot. I went into the ice and never acorn-ed. You think I didn’t try everything to get back to my family?  Vanya: If you grew old there, you know, in the apocalypse, then how come you still look like a kid?  Five: I told you already. I must have got the equations wrong.  Vanya: I mean, Dad always used to say that time-travel could mess up your mind. Maybe that’s what’s happening? 

This is our first onscreen mention of trauma, and Vanya invalidates it. However, there are some factors to consider: 

Five’s story is pretty bizarre. “Yeah, after I ran away from home and time-traveled, I got stuck in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, lived there for 40 years or so, ate cockroaches and bad Twinkies, and then I jumped right back here but because math failed me almost as much as Dad failed at parenting I still look just like I did the day I left. You got any booze?” 

There is no evidence to corroborate his story. He looks exactly the way he did when he left, and he has no way to prove he visited the future at all. The most logical conclusion here is that he spent a year at most figuring out how to return and wound up jumping ahead to 17 years after his disappearance.

As we see in the flashback, Five has always been arrogant and headstrong, growing angry when corrected. His anger and impatience toward Vanya’s insinuations that he’s lost his mind are not a reliable indication that he’s telling the truth; if anything, Vanya is well within reason to assume she’s edging too close to a truth he’s not ready to face. 

Reginald Hargreeves was a terrible parent. But he was also a very smart man who knew more about his children’s powers than they themselves did. When he said that time-travel could mess up one’s mind, Vanya had every reason to assume he knew what he was talking about. 

Reginald often used “YOU CHILDREN MUST ONE DAY SAVE THE WORLD FROM AN IGNOMINIOUS END” to scare his kids into doing the dishes. Not only has Vanya probably had enough of that talk to make her decide the world is going to die a natural death billions of years after hers, but it wouldn’t be unreasonable for her to assume Five’s time-travel-addled mind latched onto those doomsday threats and twisted them into something truly strange. 

So, yes, Vanya does invalidate Five’s trauma, suggesting it’s all in his head. But when your choices of explanation are “my brother time-traveled before he was ready and it messed up his mind” or “my brother time-traveled to an apocalypse that’s going to happen in 8 days, lived there for 40 years without ever trying to get back, and now looks like a 13-year-old kid because he got the math wrong,” the former is easier to believe than the latter. 

Additionally, we see she genuinely cares for Five. His sudden reappearance, his talk of an impending apocalypse, his story that to her has holes large enough to drive a Volkswagen through—all of that has got to be terrifying. It’s clear she’s not invalidating his trauma out of any sense of malice, but rather concern. If he’s a victim of time-travel messing up his mind, she wants him to get the help he needs (as evidenced by her recommending a therapist later). Her invalidation of his trauma isn’t right, but it’s also a human response that comes from a place of genuine concern and good intentions. 

It’s also worth noting that, the very next day, she returns to the Academy to apologize for how she responded to his story. She does recommend a therapist, but only when Five says “Maybe you were right, maybe it was all in my head.”

A few scenes later, we get Vanya’s first mention of her trauma. 

Allison: No offense, Vanya, if I wanted advice, it wouldn’t be from you.  Vanya: What’s that supposed to mean?  Allison: You don’t have a child. You’ve never even been in a relationship.  Vanya: That’s not true.  Allison: So you know what it’s like to love someone like this? Like, when you’re apart from her, you can’t breathe? Like you would die—and I mean, actually die, to know she’s okay and happy? I mean, you separate yourself from everything and everyone, you always have.  Vanya: Because Dad made me.  Allison: Did Dad make you write that book about us, too? Pause You’re an adult now, Vanya. You don’t get to blame your problems on anyone but yourself. 

The first thing to note about this exchange is that, although it’s Vanya’s first mention of her own trauma, it’s Allison who brings it up first. The second is that when she brings up her trauma, it’s as an explanation for her behavior: I separate myself from everything and everyone because Dad made me. 

Vanya is definitely sympathetic here. I’m not going to argue she isn’t. She tries to be nice to her sister, catches her when she’s distressed, and gets reamed out for the attempt. That’s a shitty thing for Allison to do, which she later acknowledges. 

However, there’s also their history to consider: Allison is a movie star. As I’m sure we all know by now, image is everything to the rich and famous. I don’t mean that as a jab at their vanity (although vanity is certainly involved, more often than not) but as a fact: They are the product, and their image is part of the advertising. Everything they do in public (and much of what they do in private) is pounced on by the paparazzi and spun into the next big story. And this isn’t always fair to them; a single misspoken word can set off rumors that come back to bite them in the ass. 

And Vanya wrote a tell-all book about how Allison treated her as a child. 

As we see from the intro sequence in Episode 1, it seems Vanya’s autobiography hasn’t kept Allison off the red carpet. But it would have certainly hurt her public image. While it’s true we don’t know everything Vanya put in her autobiography, we do know Vanya harbors a lot of bitterness and resentment toward her family. We know she sees her siblings as near-strangers who had an easier time of it than she did at best, superpowered copycats of their father at worst. From the reactions we see later on—Diego taping Vanya’s author photo to a punching bag, Ben saying “I can’t believe she said that!” as Klaus shushes him—it’s safe to assume she did not say kind things about her siblings in that book. 

If the things Vanya said about Allison matched the things Allison later says about herself—that she used her power to get everything she wanted as a kid, that she grew up spoiled because of it—then that would not have done any favors for her public image. And the paparazzi would have gone apeshit for it. Yes, Allison is an incredibly popular actor, but that doesn’t mean the press wouldn’t have turned on her the second they got a juicy morsel about her past. I imagine her having to field many uncomfortable questions from trashy reporters while out for lunch with friends, having an interview about her upcoming film suddenly turn tense when the interviewer said “Now, Allison, your sister—who none of us even knew existed up to this point—wrote about you in her book, and I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say I want to know more about….” There’s even a chance Vanya’s autobiography contributed to Patrick’s continuing antagonism toward her, since reading a book detailing Allison’s childhood power abuse could have convinced him his wife had always been bad, right from the cradle. (Or it could have fostered suspicion toward his wife and led him to keep a closer eye on her and therefore is the reason why he was close to Claire’s bedroom the night he saw Allison Rumor her, but that’s another theory for another time.) 

You might say she deserved it. You might say she’d set herself up to fall and that all Vanya did was push that first domino over. You could even say her house of cards needed to topple, since part of her perfect life involved running roughshod over her own daughter’s free will, and possibly even Rumoring her husband into falling in love with her. Those arguments are absolutely fair, but they’re not my point. My point is, Allison’s harsh words to Vanya in this scene don’t come on her out of the blue. There’s a painful history there—painful for the both of them—and Allison harbors a lot of unresolved anger toward her sister for what she wrote in her book. And I don’t think that anger is unfounded, just as I don’t think Vanya’s resentment toward Allison is unwarranted. What Allison does in this scene is shitty, but Vanya has already done something shitty to her, in retaliation for shit she went through as a kid, and on and on the chain of pain goes. Vanya is far from guiltless in their relationship, but that does not make Allison’s lashing out at her okay. 

And this is getting pretty long, so I’ll cut things short here. I’m going to list the count for trauma mentions/reactions below—and since I’ve seen this show multiple times over, I know it’s going to change; so don’t take the fact Vanya’s count is higher than Luther’s as an indictment of her. It’s just where we are at the end of Episode 2. 

Own Trauma: Vanya 1, Luther 0 Trauma of Others:  Vanya 1, Luther 0

Enjoying this series? Read on to Part Two. 

[whitehotharlots]

TERF war

I took feminist lit and theory courses as an undergraduate, in 2003 and 04. For the time, the courses were incredibly trans inclusive (bear in mind this was a year before Jon Stewart would dismiss Dennis Kucinich’s suggestion of appointing a trans SCOTUS justice, referring to the hypothetic appointee as “the honorable chick with dick”). A good 20% of the course was dedicated to reading books by and about trans people. We even got a visit from Leslie Feinberg—the person who literally coined the term transgender, and one of the kindest souls I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.

The foundational, explicit understanding I was taught in these classes was that biological sex is innate, a fixed fact of a person’s bodily being, whereas gender is a fluid and malleable social construct. No one could have gotten through these classes thinking the opposite.

The utility of this understanding is easy to grasp: by denying the fixity of gender, feminists were able to undermine social and interpersonal structures that had traditionally denied women freedom, choice, dignity, and agency. A woman was not biologically destined to a life of domestic servitude; nor was she naturally inclined to be more submissive or deferential. Most germane to this discussion, this understanding validated the existence and experience of gender non-conforming lesbians: just because they were not traditionally feminine didn’t mean they weren’t women, or that they were in need of any fixing.

Very recently—within the last 5 or 6 years, as the abstract language of feminism has permeated the wider culture and gotten watered down for sake of digestibility—the poles have shifted. Now, we are told, it is actually gender which is fixed and innate, a metaphysical force lurking within us, suppressed by social pressures, unleashed gloriously with the aid of surgery and supplemental hormones. Biological sex, meanwhile, is a construct that doesn’t exist and shouldn’t even factor in to one’s analysis of gender relations. Sex is hereby an utter fabrication, a projection of the sick evils of normalized (cis male) consciousness engrained upon people’s erstwhile blank bodies.  Taken to extreme, we are told this therefore means trans women can get periods and that there is “literally zero” difference between trans and cis women. Ergo, having a uterus doesn’t make you a woman, biological or otherwise—it simply makes you a “uterus haver.”

The utility of this shift comes from the fact that trans self-actualization relies not just on social positioning but on bodily experience. Trans peoples’ mental wellbeing often hinges on their having access to the medical interventions required to get their body to conform to their innate sense of gender. Since we live in a country where few people have access to basic healthcare, trans people have had to medicalize their position—assert a fundamental and harmful mind/body disconnect—in order to have these interventions regarded as essential, rather than elective.  

So while it’s perfectly understandable and useful, this shift nonetheless represents a profound upending of decades of feminist thought, and I’m shocked that it doesn’t appear to have even been deliberated upon. It was asserted through tumblrs and tweets and everydayfeminism dot com posts, everyone kind of nodded their heads in agreement, and that has been that. For the most part.

Now, we might able to say that the reversal is simply academic: trans people and cis women each need to advance their respective theories of gender and sex to serve as the basis of political programs that might afford safety and respect to each group. There’s no need, necessarily, to concern ourselves too exclusively with the details. Consider a parallel: anyone who was actually involved in theoretical side of gay rights in the 70’s-90’s knows that saying gay people were “born gay” was not a universally agreed upon assertion. Many argued that this was essentially a reactionary frame which stigmatized homosexuality, making it seem like gays would have chosen to be straight if only their brains or genes hadn’t screwed things up. Eventually however, the “born this way” line prevailed, became mainstream, and was the basis of most of the gay rights campaigns of this century. Most of the people who disagreed with it on academic grounds still supported it, at least publicly, once they became aware of its political utility. Why can’t we do the same with today’s split conceptualizations of gender and sex?

Seriously, why can’t we?

The sex/gender-fluid/innate reversal came around the time when trans people started receiving their first regular, non-dismissive appearances in US media. This was the first time most people had been bothered to think seriously about gender, and the first time that the existence of trans people was admitted to as something that wasn’t freakish or a punchline. That’s a huge positive, obviously. And it happened with surprisingly little mainstream pushback (compare the responses to Laverne Cox’s appearance in Orange is the New Black with the intense outrage that accompanied Ellen Degeneres coming out just 15 years earlier—the difference is astounding).

This is where things get troublesome. Many established feminists, especially second wavers, were upset to see their life’s work upended in such a way. Some reacted horribly dismissively. Others wrote thoughtful, seemingly even-handed pieces that nonetheless seemed calculated to subtly dismiss the experiences of trans people, like by repeatedly misgendering trans authors. And still others respectfully expressed objections to or concerns with mainstream trans rights assertions. These writers tended to operate in either academic or upper-middlebrow spaces, and their prose is consequently calm, erudite, and often super dense. The rebuttals to these pieces came from places like jezebel, loveisarainbow dot com, or geocities.com/sunsetstrip/3765/madtransbitch. These pieces are easily digestible, frequently angry or even violent, and hyperbolic without exception, accusing the cis feminists of fomenting or even committing violence against trans people. In the court of woke public opinion, the second wavers did not stand a chance. They were accused—sometimes rightly, sometimes wrongly—of abject hatred of trans people, blamed for suicides and murders, and grouped in with the racists and homophobes of yore. Within a very short period of time, those who haven’t learned to be quiet have been shunted away to the darkest academic backwaters (or they live in the UK, where university cultural studies is dominated by second wavers).

But, again, why not just be quiet? Honestly, that’s my preferred approach. Maybe it would be different if I had based an academic career on one assertion over another. But overall it seems like both groups should still be able to pursue their own political agendas on their own terms, so why bother discussing this contradiction? And just on a personal (that is, cowardly) note, I might not agree that biological sex is a construct, and I certainly don’t think gender is innate, but I also think trans people should have easy access to medical intervention, so why not let the inversion stand? 

But herein lies the problem: politically, the two groups are not separate. One of the most frequently levied criticisms against certain feminist authors and movements is a lack of trans-inclusivity. Pink pussy hats were verboten within hours of their debut. Colleges have cancelled productions of The Vagina Monologues (not because it’s overwrought treacle, but because it talks about vaginas, which makes it de facto transphobic). These incidents may seem trifling by themselves, but they serve as avatars of a very real and important conflict: cis feminists are being demanded to center their feminism in an understanding of sex and gender that directly contradicts the base of their ideology. Because of this, actions and symbols that were recently taken as signs of love and solidarity are now being cast as hate speech. Cis women are being told, literally, that they have no right to call themselves women (trans women are “women,” cis women are “menstruaters”). Cis lesbians are called homophobic for not being attracted to people with penises. In short, a trans movement that purports to dedicate itself to ensuring that its purveyors be given the right to be recognized by own their self-understanding is doing so by denying that same right to others.

The only possible result here is a complete collapse anything resembling a unified feminist movement. Meaning, I guess, that it fits in perfectly with the atomized understandings of social justice that stem from internet-based discourse. I suppose I could end with a plea for decency and understanding, perhaps even outline a alignment that would allow for trans advocates and cis feminists to recognize tactical points of departure from one another without fear of committing literal assault or denying the existence of one another. But we’re past that point, I think. There’s no more space for humane liberalism. Everything’s a knock-down, drag-out these days. We don’t even pretend to want to help one another.

Addendum:

People are raising the fair point that a vast majority of trans people don’t subscribe to the sort of wrecker beliefs I outline here. That is absolutely true and part of what makes the shittiness of online gender discourse so tragic. I did not mean to suggest that these beliefs are at all common among trans people. I intended to criticize only the shitty woke media apparatus (everydayfeminism et al) that occludes any attempt at effectively theorizing gender because it prioritizes hyperbolic victim mongering over achieving political goals.

[didanawisgi]

written by Terry Newman

“Remember when the scariest kid in your neighborhood was the football jock who terrorized the high school with his minions in tow, and got bailed out by his rich parents when he went too far? Or it was the gothic malcontent with the switchblade and the swagger. Either way, what made these high-status alphas so terrifying was that they came at you in numbers. They travelled in packs. This has been our narrative, in the stories we tell—from Henry Bowers in Stephen King’s It, to Biff Tannen in Back to the Future, to Billy Hargrove in Stranger Things, central-casting bullies attracted followers. They belonged.

As any grade eight schoolgirl who’s been bullied off Instagram can attest, this stereotype still holds. But when it comes to the most dangerous and sociopathic actors, the opposite is true. All three of the young mass shooters who terrorized the United States in recent nationally reported scenes of carnage—Connor Betts in Dayton, Ohio; Patrick Crusius in El Paso, Texas; and Santino William Legan in Gilroy, California—acted alone. The old image of the bully as locker-room alpha or goth leader now seems passé. Often, it is the kid who used to be the fictional protagonist, the social outcast, the member of the Losers Club from It, whose face now appears on our screens with a nightmarish empty stare.

These recent shooters fit a similar profile. They were outsiders, all seemingly socially awkward, who became emboldened through fringe online communities that act as mutual-support societies for violent malcontents. This phenomenon is fuelled by hate, guns, mental illness and ideological extremism. But there is another factor at play here, too. Before a youth makes the decision to murder, before the gun is stashed in his backpack, before his state of mental health is so deteriorated that he commits the unthinkable, what has happened to him? It’s important to remember that these murders are also, in most cases, suicides.

In his 2008 article School Shooting as a Culturally Enforced Way of Expressing Suicidal Hostile Intentions, psychiatrist Antonio Preti summarized existing research on school shootings to the effect that “suicidal intent was found in most cases for which there was detailed information on the assailants.” The research also indicated that “among students, homicide perpetrators were more than twice as likely as their victims to have been bullied by their peers, and also were described as loners and poorly integrated into school activities…In most of the ascertained cases, perpetrators prepared a well-organized plan, and often communicated details about it to acquaintances or friends, who failed to report threats because they did not consider them serious or were embarrassed or ignorant of where to go for help. The most antisocial peers sometimes approved the plan, sharing the same anger against the stated target of violence.”

Preti’s article predated the rise of some of the most notorious web sites—including 8chan, which was shut down this week after several mass shootings were linked to its users. But the nihilistic phenomenon these killers represent predates modern social-media culture. Indeed, it predates digital communication, and even broadcast media more generally.

In 1897, French sociologist Émile Durkheim noted that suicides overall were increasing in society. But there were differences among the affected populations, he noticed. Men were more likely than women to commit suicide—though the chances decreased if the man was married and had children. Durkheim observed that social groups that were more religious exhibited lower suicide rates. (Catholics were less likely to commit suicide than Protestants, for instance.) Durkheim also noted that many people who killed themselves were young, and that the prevalence of such suicides was linked to their level of social integration: When a person felt little sense of connection or belonging, he could be led to question the value of his existence and end his life.

Durkheim labelled this form of suicide as “anomic” (others being “egoistic,” “altruistic” and “fatalistic”). Durkheim believed that these feelings of anomie assert themselves with special force at moments when society is undergoing social, political or economic upheaval—especially if such upheavals result in immediate and severe changes to everyday life.

Durkheim came from a long line of devout Jews. His father, grandfather and great grandfather had all been rabbis. And so even though he chose to pursue an academic career, his experiences taught him to respect the mental and psychological support that religious communities supplied to their members, as well as the role that ritual plays in the regulation of social behavior. In the absence of such regulation, he believed, individuals and even whole societies were at risk of falling into a state of anomie, whereby common values and meanings fall by the wayside. The resulting void doesn’t provide people with a sense of freedom, but rather rootlessness and despair.

Durkheim’s thesis has largely stood the test of time, though other scholars have reformulated it for modern audiences. In his 1955 book The Sane Society, for instance, Erich Fromm wrote that, “in the nineteenth century, the problem was that God is dead. In the twentieth century, the problem is that man is dead.” He described the twentieth century as a period of “schizoid-self alienation,” and worried that men would destroy “their world and themselves because they cannot stand any longer the boredom of a meaningless life.”

In her 2004 book Rampage: The Social Roots of School Shootings, Katherine Newman described findings gleaned from over 100 interviews in Arkansas and Kentucky. The male adolescent shooters at the center of her study, she concluded, “shared a belief that demonstrating strength by planned attacks on their respective institutions with (too) easily available guns would somehow mitigate their unbearable feelings of inadequacy as males and bring longed-for respect from peers.” Ten years later, in a 2014 article titled The Socioemotional Foundations of Suicide: A Microsociological View of Durkheim’s Suicide, sociologists Seth Abrutyn and Anna Mueller set out to update Durkheim’s theory about how social integration and moral regulation affect suicidality. “The greater degree to which individuals feel they have failed to meet expectations and others fail to ‘reintegrate’ them, the greater the feelings of shame and, therefore, anomie,” they concluded. “The risk of suicidal thoughts, attempts, and completions, in addition to violent aggression toward specific or random others, is a positive function of the intensity, persistence, and pervasiveness of identity, role, or status-based shame and anomie.”

Writing in the 1890s, Durkheim was highly conscious of all the ways that industrial capitalism corroded traditional forms of social regulation in society, often at the expense of religious—and even governmental—authorities. (“Depuis un siècle, en effet, le progrès économique a principalement consisté à affranchir les relations industrielles de toute réglementation. Jusqu’à des temps récents, tout un système de pouvoirs moraux avait pour fonction de les discipliner…En effet, la religion a perdu la plus grande partie de son Empire. Le pouvoir gouvernemental, au lieu d’être le régulateur de la vie économique, en est devenu l’instrument et le serviteur.”) But if he were to visit us in 2019, Durkheim would be surprised at the extent to which once-dominant ideas with no connection to economics have been marginalized as regressive and hateful—such as nationalism, patriotism and even masculinity.

This is one reason why so many people now feel unmoored. As Canadian science fiction writer Donald Kingsbury eloquently put it in his novel Courtship Rite, “Tradition is a set of solutions for which we have forgotten the problems. Throw away the solution and you get the problem back.” Faith in god, country and manhood might be seen as regressive by modern lights. But insofar as they were holding back male anomie, we perhaps neglected to consider what damage would be done if we discredited those ideas before finding replacements.

In the history of our species, there has never been (to the knowledge of modern scholars) a human society that did not express belief in some sort of supernatural force—which suggests that we are programmed by a need to believe in something bigger than ourselves. Sociologist Max Weber warned in 1919 that “science deals with facts. It can’t tell us what to do or what’s important.” This is to say that while the scientific revolution did a good job of helping us explain and harness the natural world, it did nothing to fill the god-shaped hole that Blaise Pascal identified in the 17th-century: “What else does this craving, and this helplessness, proclaim but that there was once in man a true happiness, of which all that now remains is the empty print and trace? This he tries in vain to fill with everything around him, seeking in things that are not there the help he cannot find in those that are, though none can help, since this infinite abyss can be filled only with an infinite and immutable object; in other words by God himself.”

If we are to resign ourselves to the fact that “God himself” isn’t going to intercede any time soon, then we are left with the ordinary tools of policy, such as Robert Putnam outlined in his famous 2000 book, Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of the American Community, in which he pointed to the value of “the connections among individuals’ social networks and the norms of reciprocity and trustworthiness that arise from them.” These connections could be strengthened, Putnam argued, through improved civics education, more extra-curricular activities for youth, smaller schools, family-oriented workplaces, a more enlightened approach to urbanism, technology that reinforces rather than replaces face-to-face interaction, as well as a decentralization of political power. These recommendations were written 19 years ago, before Facebook, Twitter or 4chan existed. It would be interesting to know how he would revise his recommendations now that we have a better appreciation for the massive effects of digital culture on our social dynamics.

In a 2017 article I wrote, titled Towards a Theory of Virtual Sentiments, I argued that real-time empathy generation often requires some degree of eye contact—which is hard to generate through online interaction. Moreover, it is shockingly easy to get worked up into a rage when you are interacting with an online avatar of a person you have never met. Simply put, the more we physically see each other, the less likely we are to be awful to each other. As Louis CK said in an interview about youth and technology, “They don’t look at people when they talk to them and they don’t build empathy. You know, kids are mean, and it’s cause they’re trying it out. They look at a kid and they go, ‘You’re fat,’ and then they see the kid’s face scrunch up and they go, ‘Oh, that doesn’t feel good to make a person do that.’ But when they write ‘You’re fat’ [online] then they just go, ‘Mmm, that was fun, I like that.’” Even putting aside the extreme cases of forums that cater to homicidal shooters, I remain unconvinced that any community that exists primarily in online form can be a force for long-term good. Perhaps more time offline is a good start for anyone seeking to enhance “the norms of reciprocity and trustworthiness.”

Do we need a new nationalism? A new religion? What common human project can we collectively embrace that gives a sense of mission to everyone, regardless of skin color, religion, economic class or ideology? It would be presumptuous for me to suggest I have the answers. All I know is that men who see human life as meaningless are symptoms of a larger sense of anomie that, in less dramatic and destructive form, increasingly grips us all.”

Terry Newman is currently an MA student in the Sociology Department at Concordia University in Montreal. Her SSHRC-funded research is on the candidate controversies that took place during the 2015 Canadian federal election. She is also a Teaching Assistant in Concordia’s Engineering Department. She tweets from @tlnewmanmtl. She is the author of the Quillette article Through the Looking Glass at Concordia University.

[okimargarvez]

FEW HOURS IN LUKE ALVEZ’S MIND - 2

Original title: Few hours in Luke Alvez’s mind.

Prompt: Luke’ POV, memory of war.

Warning: quote of 12x1.

Genre: comedy, family, angst, friendship.

Characters: Luke Alvez, Penelope Garcia, BAU team.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot.

Legend: 🔦🐶.

Song mentioned: none.

Few hours in Luke Alvez’s mind- Masterlist

GARVEZ STORIES

Part 2

I spend the whole weekend immersed in sheets, photographs and damn memories. Most of the data held by BAU on Cullen doesn’t tell me anything new, nothing I didn’t already know. After all, it was I who caught him on the fact and brought him to justice. I even read my report, written a few hours later. It doesn’t even seem so obvious that I was in a state of shock at that time.

Roxy tries to distract me anyway, but this time neither she can help me.

That's why when I finally hear the sound that announces that it's Monday, I get up almost joyfully, I collect everything, throw it in my bag and I almost seems to be lighter, when the plane begins the take-off phase.

This time I am not fascinated by the size of the building, nor by the number of offices, doors and stairs that go in every direction. However, without knowing why, I contradict what I had said last time and decide to entrust myself to the elevator. When the doors open, what my eyes see is an intense stain of pink, white, blue and obviously yellow. Even Penelope notices my presence, because she turns her head slightly in the opposite direction to mine. Is she not happy to see me, or maybe she has some problem?

-Hey.- it comes out with a low and almost whispered tone. With her distant way of doing, she manages to put me in awe and almost in embarassament. What a ridiculous thing! She almost seems to swallow in returning my greeting, lowering and raising her head quickly in a military gesture.

-Good morning.- once again the tone is flat, aseptic. After a moment of sighs, I decide to throw myself. Perhaps she behaves like this only because we don’t know each other well yet. And I intend to immediately remedy it.

-How... how was your weekend?- I dare to look at her, hinting a smile, but the blonde is still statuesque, impassive and looks not interested to reciprocate or even just to consider me. I finally give up, looking back at the elevator doors. The journey is looking a lot longer than the other time.

-I don’t really discuss my personal life with my co-workers.- she decides at the end to say, with a way of doing as if telling an obviousness and only my being a stranger to her team, makes me so stupid that I don't know already. But her voice is so serious and hard that I find myself again intent on staring at her, nodding unconsciously.

-Really?- I sound a little too incredulous, with my tone, but how can I think she is telling the truth, after seeing how she behaves with Reid?

For the first time, she looks at me, but it is only a moment and I don’t even have time to cross her eyes. -I keep it real a low profile, here.- and the fact that she added this adverb of place as a specification, inevitably pushes me to ask myself in which other places she behaves differently. But it's none of my business. Although that opinionated air pushes me in the opposite direction, to investigate lands that will surely turn into quicksand. While I'm thinking about what to say, she starts again to talk. -If you must know, I hung out with my boyfriend- while she makes her proclamation she turns voluntarily towards me, and I do the same -who is super hot, and awesome and totally in love with me.- every detail that she adds to the dose increases but paradoxically makes her speech seem even more unjustified. She raises her eyebrows and seems to want to provoke me. And I accept the challenge, amused by her attempts to look cold and by the desire to keep me at a distance anyway.

-That’s cool.- she stops looking at me, I don’t. I smile in a rather incredulous way, that if she turned towards me, she could be mistaken for a joke towards her. Not knowing how to get out, I shoot the first bullshit that runs through my head. -You guys go out, or ...?- I scrutinize her reaction from the corner of my eye.

-No. We stayed in and he helped me with some fingering techniques.- she announces, relaxed, then, realizing the shocked way in which I am looking at her, she hurries to add details that clarify what she really meant. -For my clarinet, which I practice and he helps me.- but now the mind has started towards unknown shores. And her attempts to make the double meaning less apparent, her embarrassment, and the way she is passionate about defending her cause, her red cheeks, make it all funnier. -And this conversation is making me uncomfortable.- I nod, aware I still have the serial maniac look on my face. She hears a beep, looks down at the phone -And I’m sorry, I must go, Agent Hotchner needs me.- she tries to show herself professional and a moment later she is saved from the elevator opening, but her voice it is too acute (and perhaps partly even pained) because the effect she hopes can work.

I don’t know why, I cry out: -Uh, I made lasagna.- perhaps to continue our challenge that ended with my victory by abandonment by the adversary.

And without looking back, stiff, she responds with a dry -I do not care.- resigned, shaking my head, I decide to finally come out of the elevator in my turn.

 -A Tempe, in Arizona, was found a guy who wandered aimlessly, with an object around his neck... a weird object...- the photograph shows what looks like a shaft with the space to insert the wrists and a kind of collar, which in part makes the victim seem crucified -... but above all he had these signs on the body.- this is instead a human chest and there are only three letters incised: BAU.

-He definitely wants to get our attention... and it's working.- JJ expresses her opinion for the first time since the meeting began. A fist bangs on the table. I realize that it was Hotcher, the big boss who seemed so calm.

-It's a provocation!- Rossi exchanges a look with the blonde sitting next to him, there seems to be something I don’t know, but who doesn’t even know Tara.

-Wheels' up in twenty minutes.- and said that, Hotch stands up and leaves the room, very nervous.

Fortunately, Rossi had hinted at the possibility of having to leave Quantico suddenly, so I have with me a bag perfectly suited to the occasion, with everything I need. The only thing I regret is not to have alerted Roxy, but I can call Jessica to go and keep her company.

 The jet is not quite as I had imagined it. It's definitely better. Equipped with all the comforts. Everyone sits down, they seem to have almost permanent seats. We don’t have such resources at the task force. I try not to be too amazed. I find my place and start to reread the file for the umpteenth time. Now new sheets have been added concerning the case of this boy found in the desert.

Spencer's exclamation, sitting right in front of me, attracts my attention. -Off of bubble gum?- I ask incredulously. -For real?- it seems strange enough to me, but apparently it's not.

-We've seen the use of aerosolized drugs before.- Spencer begins to explain in the tone of a professor. The others raise their eyes to the sky, JJ chuckles. -One called scopolamine puts you in a catatonic state. The other, sevoflurane, is used during dental surgery. It puts you in a suggestible, almost hypnotic trance.- too many complex terms, even if I understand where her wants to go. I did chemical studies before joining the rangers. But I'm a bit rusty.

-And because it's used in dental surgery, it tastes and smells like bubble gum..- the blonde who sits next to him continues in his place. I nod, not completely convinced.

Rossi draws a picture from the file and shows it to me: -And that's why we think the unsub is this guy.- he says with a decisive tone. It doesn’t take long to recognize him.

-Mr. Scratch. Peter Lewis. He was one of the key players in the breakout.- I say aloud. It is certainly not for him that I am willing to move temporarily to Quantico. I want to take that bastard to catch Cullen.

Rossi seems to have read my mind. -Looks like you get to hunt a fugitive after all, just not the one you thought.- it also seems to ask me without saying it explicitly, if I'm still willing to help them, even if the monster we have to chase is not what I wanted. A moment of silence. I can feel everyone's eyes on me. I sigh.

-But I'm bumping on two things.- I start to list. -Number one Peter Lewis should be doing everything he can to stay hidden.- I don’t wait much to do the other And number two If he's going to surface again, why would he copy another guy's style?- that of the Crimson King, who led me to be on this jet now.

-He obviously has some agenda that's not clear to us yet. But we need to consider a more pressing problem. Peter Lewis is a math genius. Which means he plans for every variable.- I hadn’t thought about that. In Dr. Reid's tone there is almost a kind of... admiration is perhaps not the most correct term, but respect, in considering that the enemy is an intelligent person and therefore more dangerous.

- Why is that more pressing? Every serial killer thinks that.- the oldest has the courage to say. But the young man doesn’t intend to surrender.

- Yeah, but most of them operate out of compulsion and he doesn't.

He would stress test all permutations of his plan before reappearing, most likely on other victims.- fantastic perspective, to imagine that outside there are bodies (unless they were devoured by the creatures that populate these areas) of unfortunate people stumbled on one of the many, crazy insane murders that it's around.

- You think we're missing someone.- JJ rightly concludes.

- He wouldn't release Brian unless he knew we couldn't catch him.- it is the final gloss, before the computer screen, positioned so that everyone can have a correct view, it turns on (as well as all the others scattered around 'airplane) and enlighten with the figure of Penelope in the foreground, behind her other electronic devices and various confused as a background.

-Here I am. The paragon of professionalism.- she says. Why do I think that if I had not been here, on the other side of the screen, she would never have said a similar joke, which reminds me so much of the one she exchanged with me, warning me that she kept a low profile here?

- Garcia, have there been any suspicious murders in the Tempe-Phoenix area after Brian?- Rossi asks, ignoring any other question. Her eyes are not seeing us, but thousands of data. I can imagine it.

-Outside of the usual drug and domestic abuse violence, no.- is her response.

-Controll the reports of 911, complaints of people disappears, psychotic episodes, delusions.- lists JJ. The other blonde nods.

-Check 911 records, any missing persons reports, psychotic episodes, delusions.- Rossi adds.

I'm gonna check the prank phone call bin to be sure…- she interrupts the joke. The expression becomes serious and almost frightened. And it is transmitted to everyone present.

-What is it?- Spencer is the first to find the courage to ask.

-I've got a call here about a Jennifer Jareau that caller listed the address as 54321 Rossi Avenue.- fabulous.

-Wow, this guy is really baiting us, isn't he?- anger is painted very clearly on JJ's face.

-Ok, it came from a burner phone, but they left the GPS on. I'm sending you the address now.- I find it admirable that even in such a moment of great confusion, with one of the worst unfortunately again in circulation, which has directly attacked her team, she manages to keep her cool enough to be really professional. That's why all those rumors about her skill and the fact that the CIA didn’t allow her to access their files.

Rossi shakes his head -No, send it to Hotch and Tara. But let them know that Peter Lewis left the breadcrumbs on purpose. They could be walking into a trap.- he warns. The IT nods and the screen turns off.

 Sometime later we land and take a car, we reach the police headquarters. After pleasantries to which they all seem accustomed (except me), we are given a room with a little blackboard, pins, maps and a table with chairs to gather. Everyone reflects on his own, rereading the documents, Spencer scribbling something incomprehensible. When I start to open my mouth and ask for it, Rossi glances at me as if to say to let it go.

Finally, the young doctor decides to externalize his thoughts. -D.I.D. is a difficult disorder to treat, but it's even more difficult for a third party to control. To succeed with this kind of experimentation, he would have had multiple failures. We are seeing that.- he seems to be too expert on topics of this kind. And this makes me think that it can have a much more direct experience than I can imagine seeing him from outside. Not that I think it's him, crazy. But someone close to him must suffer from some kind of mental illness, because the degrees can give you the knowledge, but don’t give that tone so sure. Science is after all empirical.

-Brian survived the torture, and Chelsea's mind snapped from it.- JJ adds after a moment of silence.

I feel like taking the word for the first time. -It begs the question, though... Why didn't Brian go crazy?- it’s that we are all wondering. But we still haven’t found an answer.

TAGS:  @arses21434 @kathy5654 @martinab26 @reidskitty13 @jenf42 @gracieeelizabeth27 @silviajajaja @smalliemichelle99 @charchampagne14 @thinitta   @garvezz  @shyladystudentfan @cosmicmelaninflower @kiki-krakatoa  @pegasus-scifichick  @ leftlamphumanfestival @inlovewithgarvaz @thatnerdygirljudy

[chungledown-bimothy]

Trust Me: Chapter 5

Hello again! I know it’s been a while- things got crazy with the holidays and my birthday, but things are calm now. Here we go!

Chapter One Chapter 4 AO3 Chapter 6

Warnings: mentions of violence, descriptions of torture

Word Count: 1865

Tag List: @ren-allen @ccecode @emo-sanders-sides-loving-unicorn @ilovemygaydad @bloodropsblog @funsizedgremlin @raygelkitty @roxiefox23 @thomasthesandersengine @spookyingarbageisland @band-be-boss-blog

Virgil made his way to Dr Vincent Nigel-Murray's lab with a bad feeling in his gut. He hadn't been able to meet with the pathologist about the first victim, as the doctor had left town suddenly shortly after Virgil arrived. But he was back, and it was time Virgil met the man he'd heard so much about.

"Doctor Nigel-Murray?" He knocked on the doorframe, peering into the lab. "Are you here?"

"Ah! Yes! You must be Detective Mason, yeah?" Virgil wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but a 6-foot-tall Brit with dark hair and startling blue eyes who was practically bouncing with excitement was not it.

"Yep, that's me. Nice to meet you, doctor."

"Please, call me Vincent. Or Nigel. I also go by Vin, Vinnie, Vincenzo, any of those. My ex used to call me Vino Delectable."

"I'll stick with Vincent. And you can call me Virgil."

"A lovely name! Did you know that the famed Roman poet Virgil was homosexual and included erotic homosexual themes in two of his famed Eclogues?"

"I, um, didn't know that. Why would you bring that up? Have people been talking about me, gossiping about the gay new guy? I thought San Francisco was going to be better than this." Virgil narrowed his eyes, preparing for the worst.

"You're gay? I did not know that. What a coincidence! Fun fact-  in 2017, it was estimated that 8.2% of Millennials identify as LGBT+."

"You didn't know? Then what's with all the facts?"

"Facts are the stitches that hold the fabric of the universe together. I apologize if I'm being annoying; I've been told it's a rather bad habit." Vincent looked down and put his hands in his pockets; Virgil relaxed, suddenly understanding.

"It's an anxiety thing, right? Things get overwhelming sometimes, but facts are grounding."

"That is exactly right! If I may ask, how could you tell so quickly? Almost everyone gets there eventually, but it's only been a matter of minutes."

"I was one of the FBI's best profilers. Also, I do the same thing with sarcasm and hostility."

"It truly is a pleasure to meet you, Virgil. Now, follow me, I have two bodies with stories I think you'll want to hear."

Virgil followed the doctor into his lab. He was no stranger to morgues and autopsied bodies, but he could never get over the weird feeling in his gut when they were rolled out of the cooler. As always, he ignored the feeling and followed Dr Nigel-Murray to the first body.

"This is Orin Scrivello, the first victim. You can see the ligature marks on his wrists and ankles, and the scabbing indicates that he was tied up for quite some time and struggled a lot. This is just conjecture, but I'd wager it happened while the killer was inflicting these wounds." He pointed to the deep cuts on his legs and chest.

"Those look really deep. Cause of death?"

"You'd think, but no. The killer stayed clear of any major veins and arteries."

"So what's cause of death?"

"Blood loss."

"You literally just said-"

"He didn't bleed out through any of these wounds; he's got a single slice right along his brachial artery."

"Do we know what was used to cut him up?"

"Standard kitchen knife. Dime a dozen, available anywhere knives are sold."

"Great. Anything else interesting?"

"A couple of things. First, there were signs of dehydration, but not malnutrition."

"Any idea on how long they had him?"

"About two weeks, probably."

"The killer kept him fed while they tortured him for two weeks? Why would someone do that?" Virgil muttered. "The second interesting thing?"

"Particulates indicate that he was held in a warehouse. Nothing more specific than that, unfortunately; the killer did a really good job of covering their tracks."

"Just not good enough. Okay, let's talk about the second vic?"

"Indeed. Kyle Ren. Just finished his autopsy, in fact."

"Cool. Okay, let's start with what's the same between the two."

"Same ligature marks, although it appears that the killer kept him longer; I'd say closer to three weeks. He was also dehydrated but not malnourished. He was also tortured, but very differently."

"How different?"

"Orin had a relatively few, deep cuts. Kyle's arms are covered with dozens of shallow cuts.  Obviously, he was hit in the fact repeatedly, and the killer removed some of the flesh on his chest. Two rectangles, one on each pectoral."

"That's so weird. There was no flesh removal on Orin?"

"Nope."

"What was going on in this guy's head? Anyway, what are these on his thighs?"

"Electrical burns."

"So the killer cut, beat, and electrocuted him, sliced part of his chest off, and finally strangled him while also keeping him fed?"

"That's consistent with what I've found, yes."

"This guy is smart, angry, and escalating. Damn it. Okay, thanks, Vincent."

"My pleasure, Virgil. Hopefully we'll see each other again under better circumstances?"

"Maybe. By the way, and you really don't have to answer, but how did you decide you wanted to be a coroner?"

"Oh, it's quite the story. I was studying to be a forensic anthropologist in DC, and I got shot by a serial killer we were closing in on. I survived, obviously, and when I recovered… I don't know. Flesh and blood was a lot more interesting. So I finished my anthropology doctorate and went back for pathology."

"That's nuts. I'm glad you made it, and even more glad you're out here. You're a cool guy, Vincent. I gotta go talk to Kyle's next of kin. It was great meeting you."

"You too!"

--------

"Mason!" Virgil flinched when his captain's voice echoed through the bullpen. He took a deep breath before answering the summons.

"Yes, sir?" He asked once he reached Captain Sanders' office.

"Come in, it's time we talk about the case."

"Yes, sir." Virgil took a seat in one of the chairs across from Sanders' desk before continuing. "I met with the second victim's parents today- they confirmed the killer's assertion that he was a fascist. The pieces of flesh removed had swastika and Confederate flag tattoos. Apparently his grandfather was a high-ranking officer in the German military in World War 2. The victim was very vocal about his beliefs online; we have a tech team looking into his online interactions for potential suspects."

"Good. Now, tell me about the killer."

"He's wicked smart and almost certainly has a medical background. He's what we call mission-oriented, and his mission is vengeance. He's detail-oriented and covers his tracks well, but I don't think he has a criminal background before these kills."

"Killers usually do. Why not him?"

"How he treats the bodies after killing them. The things he did to his victims before killing them were violent and messy, but he cleaned them up and covered them carefully with leaves like a blanket. Yes, the cleaning served the purpose of eliminating most of the particulate evidence, but the clean clothes in the right size shows an extra step of care. He also kept the victims well-fed. He wanted them healthy, aside from the torture. It may seem illogical, but he has very high empathy. He punishes his victims because he genuinely cares about people.

Once he's punished them as he sees fit, they're human again, and deserving of respect and care. The violence is tied to the victim's crimes or sins, however he chooses to label them. Our killer isn't violent or malicious outside of the conditions that triggered the killings; he's probably perceived in his community as perfectly normal. Not creepy like Dahmer or manipulative like Bundy. Just an average person. He's probably lived in the area a long time, if not his entire life, and has a stable, long-term job."

"Sounds like he's going to be hard to catch. What's with the puzzle pieces, though?"

"He will make a mistake sooner, rather than later. The puzzle pieces are a taunt, daring us to solve the puzzle of who he is. He wants our attention, he wants to prove that he's smarter than we are. And that's what's going to hang him. He sees himself as an avenging angel, but he's just an Icarus."

"How does that help us catch him?"

"Honestly, sir, I'm still working on that part. I want to consult some papers from an old colleague before I add any more details to my official preliminary profile. I have a few ideas, but he was always better with mission-oriented killers than I am. I know it isn't the answer you want, but I learned the hard way how dangerous jumping to conclusions can be when dealing with someone like this."

"Mason…" Sanders started, softly.

"With all due respect, captain, don't start with that. I'm fine. I just want to make sure we do this by the book. Like you said on my first day- 'we can't let this become another Zodiac fiasco'."

"I can't say I like you using my exact words against me, but your work has been above reproach. I'm officially declaring this case yours and yours alone- I won't pressure you to partner up anymore. Just keep me in the loop okay?"

"Of course. Thank you, sir."

"You've earned it. Now shoo, you've got more important things to do than sit here with me."

"Okay." Virgil chuckled as he stood up and left.

---

"Patton don't do this. It's not a good idea. You don't know who this guy is, how much of a threat he might pose to us and our work."

"You do realize you sound just like them, right, Logan? Thinking you know best, trying to tell me what I can and can't do because of how it might affect you instead of thinking about what I want and need."

"That's not fair. You know that I love you, and they never loved either of us. I want you to stay safe; I can't protect you if I don't know who you're associating with."

"How many times do I have to tell you that you don't need to protect me any more? I know you mean well, but you have to trust me. You said yourself that I'm better with people than you are." Patton paused. "This isn't about protecting me at all, is it? It's about how you know that without me, you're alone. You have nothing without me, and you can't handle that."

"I… you're right. I need you, Patton." Logan admitted, falling to his knees.

Patton reached down and cupped Logan's face with their hands, tilting his face up. "Logan, you are and always will be the most important thing in my life. But I can't shake the feeling that getting to know him could change everything in the best way."

"That's exactly what I'm worried about, but I'll trust your instincts. I love you, Pat."

"I love you too, Logan. Thank you." Patton walked to their room, leaving Logan on his knees in the living room, alone with his thoughts.

Patton's right; this date changes everything. If we are deviating from the pattern in favor of indulging other desires, well, I would be a fool to let this opportunity pass.

[thepropertylovers]

Feature Friday with Jeremy Scott

Happy Friday! In this week’s FF, we get to know Jeremy on a deeply personal and vulnerable level. He opens up about his fear of coming out because he was afraid of being judged - by the gay community. He discusses the importance of mental health, living your truth, and what made him finally decide to come out. We came away from this with our eyes opened wider than before and a fresh, new perspective. We believe you will have a lot of takeaways from Jeremy’s intelligent, inspiring words. Take a look below to see what we mean…

Where are you from? I’m from Baltimore County, Maryland.

Where do you live? I’m currently attending medical school in Knoxville, TN but will be moving back home to study for my Step 1 board exam. Then I will be traveling for my clinical rotations. I’m going to be a bit of a nomad for a little while.

Instagram handle: @jpscott09

Age: 31

On cute little mountain towns: Bariloche, Argentina is my favorite place of all time that I’ve travelled! It’s this beautiful mountain town, and whether you’re into skiing, hiking or just walking around shopping and eating, there are gorgeous mountains all around, with crystal clear water and green forests. In town there’s this incredible candy shop, named Mamushka, that is plucked right out of a scene from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory!

“But I am the sum of ALL of my parts, not the convenient choosing of a few. I can’t control what people see or choose to focus on when they look at me, discuss my accomplishments, etc. I can only live and shine in my truth; that will have to be enough. “

On an uneventful, but meaningful coming out: I’ve always known I was gay and that my family and friends knew as well. I had a gay uncle and have cousins that are gay and lesbian. After hearing an interview by a mom of one of the victims of the Orlando Nightclub shooting, I finally had a sit-down conversation with my mom. It was easy and uneventful and took place sitting in my Mom’s bathroom while she irrigated my clogged ear. I also sandwiched our conversation between reveals of my latest tattoos. She was more shocked about my tattoos than my coming out - my being gay was an unspoken fact, but the tattoos were brand new! And that’s how I said it, as if it were a statement, to my mom and any other family member or friend. I’m gay. It wasn’t an invitation for questioning or discussion, it was a statement of MY truth, that, understandably might take some time to comprehend and digest, but won’t change. I didn’t want anyone close to me to think I was ashamed of being gay just because I hadn’t said the words aloud. Silence allows for the creation of a false narrative, and I didn’t want there to be one surrounding something that makes me human, unique and worthy of love and belonging. 

On being comfortable within the gay community: It was fear of being accepted into the gay community that kept me from coming out sooner. I was overweight in my early 20s, and looking at images of the guys that frequented P Town or Fire Island, Barry’s Bootcamp or Soul Cycle made me hesitant to even believe that I’d be accepted - I was the ‘fat theater science nerd’ juxtaposed to the cool good-looking guys. It is worth mentioning that even though the gay community is a marginalized one, there exists a judging or shaming of its members. For example, placing character attributes or implicit biases and monikers such as “gold star, dairy queen, top, or bottom.” Individuals hide behind the term “preference,” to express their predilections when really, it’s a way to justify homogenizing social groupings or dating prospects. We can say it’s due to wanting to be around similar people, with a related background or potential shared experiences, but when did doing that help us grow or better ourselves? I’ve just now, over the past two/three years, gotten comfortable within the gay community, having accepted my flaws while championing my uniqueness; I’ve moved from a timid outsider to the curious and open wanderer.

On the importance on having an ally, and learning from life’s obstacles: Prior to having my “official” sit down with my family and close friends, I was outed by a classmate. We got into an argument one night, and, even though we agreed to keep everything quiet, he got into a taxi with some of our mutual friends and told them that we had been together and gave intimate details about us “hooking up.” I learned about what he had done because a friend just happened to be in the taxi that night. She will forever be someone I hold close to my heart, for many reasons, but because in that moment, she showed me the definition of true friendship- an ally against hurtful and potentially damaging hate speech and a source of support and understanding. I still think she was more bothered by the event than me. I, however, wasn’t even mad and still am not. That was a noteworthy moment that I draw strength from because at that time, I realized I was fully accepting of myself as gay and didn’t care who knew. As for moving forward from this situation and continuing on with my life, I viewed this as any other hurdle or obstacle and haven’t let it define me. I learned the lesson I was meant to learn- I dealt with forgiveness and am proud of the person I am because of it.

On the importance of “marble jar friends”: I am incredibly fortunate for the people I have in my life that I call friends and family. We are born into a family but as we grow and mature as adults, we have the ability to choose the individuals that make up our inner circle. My “marble jar friends,” as Brené Brown calls them, are as diverse in thought as they are in their cultural and ethnic backgrounds. These are the people that want for me what they want in themselves; to be seen, heard, and know I matter.

On living his truth, despite what others think: My family and friends have been nothing but supportive, and most conversations center around if I’m dating (yes, I’m single) and when I intend on getting married. The little backlash I have received has been mostly from members of the Black community. A few black professionals have messaged and said that, “I’ve disqualified any future accomplishments I will achieve as a part of the medical community because the only thing people will see me as is a gay black man.” I vehemently disagree with their statements, but understand that in the Black community there’s still a stigma about being gay. Some individuals would rather stay on “the down low,” as if openly being gay hurts the black male professional diaspora. But I am the sum of ALL of my parts, not the convenient choosing of a few. I can’t control what people see or choose to focus on when they look at me, discuss my accomplishments, etc. I can only live and shine in my truth; that will have to be enough.  

“Silence allows for the creation of a false narrative, and I didn’t want there to be one surrounding something that makes me human, unique and worthy of love and belonging.“

On the role of the medical community when it comes to LGBTQ healthcare: The medical community has a responsibility to educate, care for, and provide adequate healthcare to the LGBTQ community, which includes promoting PrEP. I think it starts with the family practitioner, the physician that sees a patient from childhood into adulthood, to not view heterosexuality as the default. Asking a patient, “Are you sexually active? With men, women, or both?” gives permission for an answer not constrained by judgment or preconceived notions but of openness and vulnerability. As a future healthcare provider, I have a duty to stay educated and advocate for my patients. I know that my experience is unique and has left me poised to reach a population of patients that may not feel like their needs are met or their voice heard by healthcare professionals. I will take my role seriously and do my best to make sure that every individual has access to healthcare that best addresses their needs and concerns.

On destigmatizing mental health: The best thing I ever did was decide to go to therapy. I’ve consistently seen Shannon, my therapist, over the past two years. There’s still a great deal of stigma surrounding mental health, as if you should be ashamed to take an introspective look at yourself, your relationships, and those around you. If anyone has looked at #foreignfriday on a Radiologist’s Instagram, trust me when I say there’s nothing you have to be embarrassed about sitting and talking to a therapist. Sometimes we need to develop strategies on how to handle our emotions or triage a situation with respect to what needs and deserves our attention first. And sometimes we just need to vent our frustrations in a safe objective space. Whatever the reason, stability and strength starts from within and you’ll be eternally grateful for taking the necessary steps to ensuring both when you prioritize your mental health.

On living in the south: Living down south has taught me the importance of communication and understanding. We can’t ask of others things we can’t or don’t ask of ourselves, and we need to be open to having tough conversations with people of differing views and opinions. Where I might not feel comfortable walking down the street holding my husband’s hand down here, I have really embraced the old saying “you can’t judge a book by its cover.” Even after living on a Caribbean island where it is STILL illegal to be homosexual, I’ve never been this aware of my blackness and being gay. But I’ve challenged myself to look past the differences that divide us and seek the aspects of our humanity that bring us closer together. I’ve fallen in love with a guy from Knoxville and had my heart broken as well. I’ve been able to foster and find community through service and the running community. I’ve grown and am a better person for having lived down here.

On his biggest inspirations: I’m a huge Brené Brown fan-she’s my spirit guide. Her work over the years has guided me through so many unexpected turns and over impossible hurdles. Her work, along with my friends and family, whose voices have been louder than my own in times of doubt, have kept me going. I don’t know where I’d be without them, and there aren’t enough words to explain what their love means to me.

[ryanmeft]

If Beale Street Could Talk Movie Review

After I saw If Beale Street Could Talk, I finally got around to reading some James Baldwin. As I write this, I’m immersed in a book collecting several of his works, which mostly deal with ordinary life. There’s not much in the way of melodrama in Barry Jenkins’s adaptation of his novel. There is a man behind bars for a crime he didn’t commit, his fiance who is pregnant, their families who must try to free him, the woman he is said to have raped, the racist and ignorant white cop. Not a bit of this is the stuff of potboilers; there is no thought of histrionics, and even when the jailed man cries, he tries to hold it in. This is just the life of African Americans in 1974, and tears will avail him not.

The man, Fonny, is played by Stephan James and the woman, Tish, by KiKi Layne, and each character is a study in the contortions anyone who is discriminated against must endure simply to live. The couple has trouble finding housing, with landlords citing imaginary deficiencies in the very souls of black people. They are eventually rented an under construction loft by a Jewish man (Dave Franco) who respects love wherever it is found, and they seem enthusiastic about this, because they are. If the world will not offer them a place, after all, they might as well make one. High drama could never capture the subtle emotions at play when Fonny and their new landlord pantomime moving their belongings into their future home. The film is told in a non-linear structure, so we already know that Fonny is in prison. He drew the attention of a white cop (Ed Skrein, who can play a side of beef but does not here) when he forcefully stopped a man from harassing Tish, in another one of those terrible moments where a black man is supposed to stand by and let a white one do whatever he wants or be arrested. He is defended by a white shop owner, but the cop later makes a point to coerce his identity out of a rape victim, even though the evidence doesn’t add up.

Now look at how Jenkins handles these things. Eventually, the victim (Emily Rios) is tracked down in Puerto Rico, and not at any point does she outright say that her identification of Fonny was coerced. She does not have to. It is in the look in her eyes, the set of her shoulders, the unspoken reason she went to Puerto Rico in the first place. Do we hurt for her because she was assaulted, be angry at her because she is willing to punish an innocent man to spare herself pain, or a mixture of both? This ambiguity is also present in Tish and Fonny’s attempts to get him freed. They know the truth: that they cannot prove his innocence because the white officer will be believed regardless of the facts. They cannot speak it, and when one of them does they instantly regret it. Why even state the inevitable? To crush all hope?

On most levels the film is about two ordinary people living under an extraordinary system. For the system is extraordinary in the truest sense of the word: a remarkably efficient and successful engine geared toward the single goal of punishing human beings for being black. On another level it is about that system and the entire plight of a race. This other level is handled with what seems like Baldwin’s own words, put into the thoughts of Tish as she reflects on their situation. Unlike Spike Lee’s BlackkKlansman, which broke into scenes of beatings and injustices with the invoked fury of a sun, Jenkins and Baldwin’s interjections are languid, even calming, a sure and simple reminder that the world is unjust and that it will take a long time, and a long fight, until it is not. Go Tell It On The Mountain, the Baldwin book I am reading, is less concerned with the big picture than with the small, personal details. Perhaps it is because he knew that is how big pictures are made.

Witness the scene in which a divided family comes together for the revealing of Tish’s pregnancy. Her mother (Regina King) is her rock, solid and steady, while her sister (Teyonah Parris) is her champion, fiery and fighting. Her father (Colman Domingo) is less sure how to react, and fearful of what his daughter faces as a single black mother in New York in the 70’s, but it is fear borne of love. Fonny’s mother (Aunjanue Ellis) is another case, a religious fanatic both hateful and self-hating, one of those people who uses God to appear holier to others while playing at false humility. Yes, I realize her character can be seen other ways, but no, I do not feel I’m being unfair. Just because a person is themselves hurting does not mean they are worthy of compassion, and it takes a monster to condemn an unborn child which has no say in coming. The scene of the two families meeting can make blood boil, and yet it does not feel forced, for as we know there are such people in the world. She causes so much harm with words, and is ready to cause far more to prove her righteousness, that when her ex-husband (Michael Beach) finally rises and slaps her, it’s impossible to feel she hadn’t earned it. It’s a small but daring role on Ellis’s part. When a character’s entire job is to be hated in an unrealistic, movie-screen manner, we get over it quickly, but Ellis’s job is to play a perfectly realistic terrible person. That there is no screenwriter’s resolution to this---that we must assume this woman remains her terrible self, for we do not see her again---fits with the movie’s message that justice is far from certain. Other family moments, such as Tish’s parents dancing in front of a mirror or the two fathers discussing their roles over drinks, are not there to advance the plot, but just to show us a family being a family.

The film is not backed so much as carried gently along in a masterful, haunting score by Nicholas Britell; the hypnotic theme “Eden (Harlem)”, a loaded title, and the track “Agape” were heavily featured in trailers. The camera of James Laxton, who has worked on all three of Jenkins’ films, paints Harlem in earthy, fall colors, a soft contrast to the racism that plagues the city and the solid, imposing prison glass between Tish and Fonny. Witness his work in the scene of the family meeting, and as the vile stepmother is being led out. The way he frames expressions has been a key component of every film I’ve seen of his, and is vital frequently throughout this picture. 

In the rush by white people to gain liberal points for praising black cinema, attention is almost always laser focused on popular entertainment---action films like Black Panther, horror films like Get Out, things anyone can find at the local multiplex and which do not require long thought. It is considerably more difficult, and therefore rewarding, to appreciate a movie like Beale Steet, which does not condense its message into simple talking points. I suspect it will quickly be ignored in the discussion, just as Moonlight’s existence is ignored by those who wish to push a certain narrative, and just as Fruitvale Station is ignored by the same people who make a big show of loving Coogler’s more populist Marvel film. This isn’t exclusive to black cinema: movies that take their time and do not cater will never be as popular as those that do. It’s a shame. Beale Street is a film we need right now, a gentle yet somehow pointed reminder that in every game of oppression, most are unwilling players, and simply want to live quiet, happy lives with their families. That the film almost trails off rather than stamping punctuation on the end is truer, and braver, than any grand speech could ever be.

Verdict: Must-See

Note: I don’t use stars, but here are my possible verdicts.

Must-See

Highly Recommended

Recommended

Average

Not Recommended

Avoid like the Plague

 You can follow Ryan's reviews on Facebook here:

https://www.facebook.com/ryanmeftmovies/

 Or his tweets here:

https://twitter.com/RyanmEft

All images are property of the people what own the movie.

[nowis-scales]

With all due respect, I think you’re 100% right that the Nazi phrases and jokes are wildly inappropriate and not okay, but I struggle with the idea that the comparison is completely forced by those who actually set out to analyze rather than make stupid jokes. I’m definitely not here to tell you how to feel, or to say that feeling this way is wrong, but the conversations I’ve had or come across with other Jewish people about the game might be beneficial in understanding how the comparison gets drawn as much as it does (without saying that you personally have to agree with it). That being said, if the conversation is too much, please feel free to not engage. I just want to see if I can help you feel more comfortable and understand a little more.

I’ll start off by saying that you’re still right that white gentiles should not be using the word Nazi, though. It’s not appropriate and while it seems to be used most often in relation to EdeIgard, but unfortunately I have seen it used in relation to Rhea a little too. People love to compare every little instance of conflict to Nazism, and it’s… deeply vile. It’s not appropriate in the slightest, and I can understand why it would scare you off from the fanbase. Sometimes it scares me, too.

I’ll be completely honest, though, I can’t think of what you’re referring to with the “experimented on and killed innocent people” for the Church. The only things I can think of are Byleth, which was a life saving procedure first and foremost, and the Western Church, which were not innocent due to actual attempts at murder of both Rhea and the youth at the Monastery. This has only a little bearing on the analysis so feel free to not clarify, but I’m just kinda wonky on where that comes in.

Otherwise, though, the reason why people draw the comparison, is for something to do with literary analysis in English. When you study English as apart of higher education, you take a class on Narratology, which basically runs you through all the ways you can analyze a piece of writing. As such, they have you study Critical Race Theory. One of the most interesting things we learned was that Critical Race Theory, when applied to literature, often concerns a matter of trope. You won’t always get an actual person of a particular race, but you might get what they call a “racialized” figure. Our text of choice for the class was Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, and while the Creature in the novel is not defined as any one group, there are essays all over that viewed him from the perspective of being racialized. Some people saw the reference to his “yellowed skin” and decided they thought he was a representation of Asian figures, whereas others like myself, wrote papers saying that he wasn’t given an exact race because he was meant to symbolize the whole of marginalized races. If you’ve never read the novel before, the Creature is not an innocent being — though he is abandoned by Victor and is the victim, he also commits several murders of Victor’s loved ones. Still, the comparisons are drawn because of the treatment he receives from Victor and the rest of humanity, even before he has done anything. This is kind of where most people might go with Rhea as a racialized figure.

Often when I saw people start to delve into the Nabatean-Jewish comparisons, it actually didn’t seem to start with a one-to-one comparisons with being Jewish. It started with people saying “the Nabateans are racialized figures, and EdeIgard’s repeated declarations that she wants to eliminate the children of the goddess invokes dangerous rhetoric”. Then, of course, you got all of the opposition swooping in, some saying that it’s not genocide because they “secretly control the world” (their actual influence can be argued, because what EdeIgard says versus the details given out by others vary) or “they’re dying because of political power” (does Flayn really have great political power?)

But some people, without better justification, just had to mouth off in the fakest wokeness, and say:

“The genocide of the Nabateans doesn’t matter because they’re white.”

And that hit a lot of Jewish and Armenian people where it hurt. There are very few people who are openly critical of EdeIgard as a character, because experience has taught most that she has some horrible fans who will berate you for saying a word against her (an unfortunate side effect of the BE being the most popular house). Those who are critical and confident enough to speak end up getting a lot of anons who quietly support or vent from the sidelines, and in observing those people, I have seen people saying that as Jewish people, EdeIgard’s ideas make them uncomfortable. The critical people with more confidence then try to speak up on behalf of their anons, and it… can come out looking kinda like Twitter discourse where people try too hard to be good allies without asking what others actually want. This is probably why you see it with so many gentiles, rather than actual Jewish people.

And the perspective on Nabatean-Jewish issues is partially because the aforementioned Jewish people hang around the critical crowd. For someone like you, who seems to believe in EdeIgard, you’re probably not going to see yourself in the Nabateans — and for the record, you don’t have to. Not everyone’s reading of a particular text is going to be the same for someone else. You’ve read EdeIgard as the hero and the Church as the villain, so it’s perfectly natural to be uncomfortable with the comparison. However, other Jewish people have read EdeIgard as the villain and the Church as nuanced but ultimately well-meaning, so they will read themselves into the Nabateans and be hurt. Different perspectives can make allegory hit completely differently. It’s normal to read texts to however we feel closest to them, that’s why they have you practice making connections when you’re small.

Your discomfort is not unfounded. Love EdeIgard or hate her guts, one thing this discourse has taught me is that some people will say anything to justify their favourites. People who are otherwise kind and sensitive will say things without thinking, without even realizing that they have a ripple effect on those who see themselves or their history in those characters. If there’s anything I want to assure you of or have you take away from this, it’s that while people are ignorant and arrogant when it comes to this game… my understanding is that neither EdeIgard’s greatest fans nor her biggest critics seem to be out with the intention to hurt you. That doesn’t mean you can’t be hurt, that doesn’t mean you can’t be uncomfortable, because sometimes people are just straight up thoughtless. But if there’s anything I want to provide you with reassurance of, it’s that even when misguided, most people want to be kind. While imperfect, it seems that both sides of the argument want to look out for people like yourself. Her diehard fans follow your thought process, the comparison is not fair and it makes some Jewish people uncomfortable. Her critics follow another, Nazi comparisons aren’t appropriate but we can’t ignore Jewish and other marginalized folks hurt by this. It’s a question of competing needs based on readings, unfortunately.

Still, I’m really sorry that you’ve been made to feel uncomfortable in a space that’s supposed to be about having fun. The only reason I sparingly participate in any of this discourse stuff is because I don’t want people like you to feel like they don’t have a place here. I wish there was more I could do to help. The most I can hope for right now, I think, is that my explanation might have provided you some solace, even if it’s small. I really hope that someday you’re able to get back to the game and to the fandom, and feel like you really have a place here. Everybody deserves to feel like they have somewhere to belong.

Hopefully things start to look up from here. You have a good day now!

As a Jewish person gentiles making Edelgard = Nazi comparisons or jokes makes me so uncomfortable. It's scared me away from the game and the fandom. Edelgard not liking the church because they experimented on and killed innocent people is not her peddling conspiracy theories about Lizard People secretly ruling the world. Rhea(who is a dragon) is factually the leader of the church which is a major world power, like the Catholic church irl. Forcing a comparison between the dragons and Jews for the sake of making Edelgard a Nazi analogue is so gross. People are allowed to feel uncomfortable with problematic parts of the game such as twsitd(they resemble conspiracy theories that have become intertwined with antisemitism) but white gentiles should not be casually using the word "Nazi".

[erhiem]

The Taliban say there is an “apology” throughout Afghanistan, the first comment on how they might rule the country this time. Hundreds of people gather near a US Air Force C-17 transport plane in a perimeter at Kabul airport on Monday.

Shekib Rahmani/AP

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The Taliban say there is an “apology” throughout Afghanistan, the first comment on how they might rule the country this time. Hundreds of people gather near a US Air Force C-17 transport plane in a perimeter at Kabul airport on Monday.

Shekib Rahmani/AP

KABUL, Afghanistan – The Taliban announced an “apology” across Afghanistan and urged women to join their government on Tuesday, trying to convince a wary population that they have changed a day after deadly mobs captured the main airport as desperate mobs tried to flee his rule.

After a spate of attacks across Afghanistan in which many cities fell to rebels without a fight, the Taliban sought to portray themselves as more moderate than the one that imposed a brutal regime in the late 1990s. But many Afghans are skeptical.

Older generations remember the ultra-Orthodox Islamic views of the Taliban, which included stoning, amputations and public executions, along with severe sanctions on women, before being pulled out of the US-led invasion following the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks.

While there were no major reports of abuse or fighting in the capital of Kabul as the Taliban now patrol its streets, many residents have remained at home and prisons have been evacuated after rebels took over and looted arsenals. went. Many women have expressed fears that two decades of Western experimentation to expand their rights and rebuild Afghanistan will not escape the resurgent Taliban.

Meanwhile, Germany halted development aid to Afghanistan over the Taliban’s takeover. Such aid is a significant source of funding for the country – and the Taliban’s efforts to introduce a lighter version of itself may be aimed at ensuring that the money continues to flow.

The announcement marks the first comment on how this regime might run Afghanistan.

The promise of an apology to Enamullah Samangani, a member of the Taliban’s Cultural Commission, was the first comment on how the Taliban could rule nationally. His remarks, however, remained unclear, as the Taliban are still in talks with political leaders of the country’s fallen government and no formal handover deal has been announced.

He said, “The Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan has with all dignity and sincerity announced a full apology to the whole of Afghanistan, especially to those who were with the opposition or supported the occupiers for years and more recently. ,” They said.

Other Taliban leaders have said they will not take revenge on those who have worked with the Afghan government or abroad. But some in Kabul allege that Taliban fighters have a list of people who cooperated with the government and are looking for them.

Samangani described the women as “the main victims of more than 40 years of crisis in Afghanistan”.

“The Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan does not want women to be victims of this anymore,” he said. “The Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan is prepared to provide an environment for women to work and study, and the presence of women in various (government) structures in accordance with Islamic law and in accordance with our cultural values.”

Pakistani paramilitary personnel stand guard as they enter Pakistan from a border crossing in Chaman on Tuesday.

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Pakistani paramilitary personnel stand guard as they enter Pakistan from a border crossing in Chaman on Tuesday.

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Women were violently repressed the last time the Taliban came to power

This would be a marked departure from the last time the Taliban came to power, when women were largely confined to their homes. Samangani did not specify exactly what he meant by Islamic law, implying that people already knew the rules. He said that “all parties should be involved” in a government.

In another sign of the Taliban’s efforts to paint a new image, a female television anchor on private broadcaster Tolo interviewed a Taliban official on camera in a studio on Tuesday – a conversation that would have once been unimaginable. Meanwhile, women in hijabs briefly demonstrated in Kabul, calling on the Taliban to “not eliminate women” from public life.

Rupert Colville, a spokesman for the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights, noted both the Taliban’s pledges and their fears now under their rule.

“Such promises will need to be respected, and for the time being – again understandably, given past history – these announcements have been greeted with some skepticism,” he said in a statement. “The past two decades have seen many difficult victories in human rights. The rights of all Afghans must be protected.”

Different countries weigh whether to cut or increase their humanitarian aid

Germany suspended development aid to Afghanistan for 2021, which was estimated at 250 million euros ($294 million). The German news agency DPA described Afghanistan as the nation receiving the most development aid from Berlin. Other funding goes to security services and humanitarian aid.

Meanwhile, Swedish Development Aid Minister Per Olsson Friedh said his government would slow aid to the country in an interview with Degens Neuter newspaper. But Britain remains committed to growth.

British Foreign Secretary Dominic Raab said humanitarian aid could increase to 10%. He said the aid budget would be reconfigured for development and humanitarian purposes and the Taliban would not receive any money previously earmarked for security – but added that the aid would not be conditional on how the Taliban governs.

Monday was a day of turmoil at Kabul airport as many Afghans tried to flee

Meanwhile, Kabul’s international airport, the only way out for many, reopened for military evacuation flights under the watch of American troops.

All flights were suspended on Monday, when thousands of people desperate to leave the country arrived at the airport. In shocking scenes captured on video, some of the planes clung to it as it took off and then died. US officials said at least seven people died in the chaos at the airport.

NATO’s senior civilian representative in Afghanistan, Stefano Pontecorvo, posted a video online on Tuesday that showed US troops emptying the runway. What appeared to be a military cargo transport aircraft could be seen from afar.

“I watch airplanes take off and land,” he wrote on Twitter.

Overnight, flight-tracking data showed a US military plane flying to Qatar, which is home to the advance headquarters of US Military Central Command. A British military cargo plane headed for Kabul took off from Dubai.

Nevertheless, there were signs that the situation was still weak. The US embassy in Kabul, which now operates from the airport, urged Americans to register online for evacuees, but did not arrive at the airport before being contacted.

The German Foreign Ministry said the first German military transport plane landed in Kabul, but due to the continuing chaos, it could only carry seven people before departing again.

US troops stand guard along a perimeter at Kabul airport on Monday.

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US troops stand guard along a perimeter at Kabul airport on Monday.

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Biden sticks to US withdrawal from Afghanistan

Across Afghanistan, the International Committee of the Red Cross said thousands of people have been injured in Taliban attacks across the country in recent days. However, in many places, security forces and politicians surrendered their provinces and bases without a fight, possibly out of fear of what would happen when the last American troops withdrew as planned at the end of the month.

A resolute US President Joe Biden said on Monday he stood “completely behind” his decision to withdraw US forces and acknowledged the “gut-wrenching” images that surfaced in Kabul. Biden said he was faced with a choice between honoring a previously negotiated withdrawal agreement or sending back thousands more troops to start a third decade of war.

Biden said in his televised address from the White House, “20 years later, I’ve learned the hard way that there was never a good time to call back the US military.”

Talks continued on Tuesday between the Taliban and several Afghan government officials, including former presidents Hamid Karzai and Abdullah Abdullah, who once headed the country’s negotiating council. Officials with knowledge of the talks said discussions were held on how the Taliban-dominated government would function given the changes in Afghanistan over the past 20 years, rather than just dividing who controls which ministries. That is, officials familiar with the talks said. He spoke on condition of anonymity to discuss confidential details of the conversation.

President Ashraf Ghani had earlier fled the country amid Taliban advances and his whereabouts are unknown.

The post The Taliban Say There Is An ‘Amnesty’ Across Afghanistan : NPR appeared first on Spicy Celebrity News.