#rose's timer brings up familial issues

[aparticularbandit]

Bandit, why do you always use soulmate timers as your soulmate au?

....

I don't always because there are some places where it doesn't fit, but. I also have an extensive soulmate timer world built and ready for use, which makes it easy to use that one in a cinch.

[forlornmelody]

Resurrection Day

Rating: M (just a lot of angst, really. Character death, some graphic violence, and an afterglow moment)

Fandom(s): DC Comics

Ship: Jayrose, RedArse, 

Linkage: Ao3

Summary:   The Outlaws have always had a funny relationship with death, but when one of their own dies, they try to rise from their mistakes.

Note:  Idk if this is a fic, or more my headcanons strung together. Enjoy? 

-*-*

“Do you ever regret it?” 

Jason only half-hears her, his eyelids heavy, and his body so relaxed with release that he might never move again. “Mm?” he mumbles, pulling his body through quicksand so he can lay on his side and face her. 

Rose’s skin still glistens in the evening light, her hair mussed, and her face flushed. Her voice still throaty from moaning and screaming that Jason’s too busy reliving those last straining moments he almost doesn’t hear her again. “Do you ever regret...coming back?”

Pushing himself onto his elbows, Jason gazes down at her with a crooked grin. “To Gotham? Only when Bruce breathes down my neck.”

Snorting, Rose stretches one arm above her head, and her chest rises towards him in a way that makes him suck in his breath. Focus. She won’t meet his eyes, and her lips keep forming words she doesn't speak. “No, I mean. Do you regret being brought back?” The warmth in Jason’s belly turns to ice. 

It’s all too easy to remember that god-awful laugh, and the red haze in his vision, and the blood in his eyes. The searing pain of each blow, and the ache every time he tries to breathe. The numbness that settles in when he reaches the door and finds it locked--when he hears the egg timer on Joker’s signature bomb. 

Remembering what came after is harder. Running out of air. So much water, but it’s thicker than water, and he can’t get to the surface fast enough. Screaming. So much screaming. Is he screaming? Everyone’s trying to kill him. He can’t get out. He can’t get out. He can’t.

“Jason?” Rose only says his name when she’s worried. She squeezes his shoulder, digging her nails into his skin until his vision clears. “Shit. Sorry.” Sighing in frustration, she looks away. “Didn’t mean to bring all that back.”

Leaning his forehead against hers, Jason tries to get his breathing under control like his shrink taught him, but it’s easier said than done, and he fears the moment lost by the time he does. He tries to turn it into a joke, to lighten the mood. “That’s like asking if I regret being alive.” Jason huffs a laugh, but it falls flat. 

Rose bites her lip so hard Jason half-expects it to bleed. She looks up at him as if she’s confessing to murder. Sorry, Asshole, I fucked up again. Guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. “I was there, you know.”

Jason’s eyes widen. “At the Lazarus Pit?” And there he is, again. Drowning. 

“Yeah.” She swallows, and the next part comes out thick. “I was the one who told Ra’s Al Ghul where to find your body. He let me watch, as a thank you.”

Nowhere in that haze of memory does Jason recall seeing Rose, and that it is a whole new betrayal. “Where?” He sucks in a breath. “When?”

“Guess you weren’t happy to see me.” She snorts. “You tried to kill me. Well. Everyone, really. But you were fixated on me.” Rose looks at him, finally. “Thaila had to pull you off me before I stopped self-healing altogether.”

“And then you...left?” He’s angry, as if he has any right to be. Jason probably would’ve done the same given the circumstances. 

Rose nods. “And the All-Caste offered to take you in, fix you right up. Guess it worked.” A small smile sneaks onto her lips. But it doesn’t reach her eyes. 

One of Jason’s first clear memories of that time--a lonely night in his cell in The Chamber of All. Wondering what happened to her. If she had died right along with him and hadn’t been brought back. Being so angry when he got back to Gotham and she apparently had a life of her own. His memories of her, after, are a little less clear. But the distant look in her eyes tells him all he needs to know. 

----

“Dude, don’t be so hard on her.” Roy polishes off yet another hot dog, licking his fingers. 

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Jason kicks his heels against the edge of the rooftop. He reaches for one of the polish sausages, but his stomach gurgles in protest. Maybe not, then. 

“You’ve no idea what she went through to get you back.” He turns to look at him, with those hazel eyes lingering on Jason in a way that always leaves him feeling, well, naked. Which shouldn’t be an issue right? Roy’s seen him naked plenty of times after a mission. There’s only one shower, and that apartment has one tiny ass water heater. Showering together only makes sense? At least there’s room for the both of them, just barely. It often turns into a game of Twister mixed with hot yoga. And like, there’s never been any problem, yeah? 

But sometimes the way Jason catches Roy staring at him. Makes him wonder. 

If he wants to stare back.

Just every once in a while. 

“Like what?” They really shouldn’t have bought the entire foodcart’s stock so the Old Man Gerasimos “Jerry” Angelos could head home early. This is way too much food, even with Roy’s bottomless stomach. 

“Maybe you should ask her sometime.” 

“Nah, I’m good.” Jason licks his fingers. “It’s easier to not talk about it at all.”

Roy laughs. “Ah, just like how you don’t talk about stuff with anyone else?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jason gives him a playful look, but the look on Roy’s face stops him short. 

Roy doesn’t answer. He reaches over instead, wiping the mustard that got caught on the side of his mouth. His fingers are so unbelievably warm, like he’s made of fire and not skin. And Jason aches when he pulls away abruptly. 

“I uh, I just remembered that my laundry’s sitting in the washer. Probably stinks already.” Roy rushes off, not even bothering to wipe his fingers on a napkin. 

“It always stinks, Harper!” Jason roars after him, but his friend has already shut the door. 

Roy dies two days later.

------

“Would you be angry if I--we brought Roy back?” They’re on a rooftop, They’ve been waiting here for hours for Valentino’s men to show, and still nothing. Not all the Tuesday tacos in the world can make the night any less stale. Rose is on her fifth one when she gets philosophical.

Jason snorts. “You say that like it’s possible.”

Rose doesn’t say anything, and that’s what scares him.

“It’s not,” he says, louder.

“Why not?” She wipes quac from the corner of her mouth, staring at the rooftop across the street as if Roy’s gonna pop out of the skylight any second. “We brought you back.”

She can’t be serious. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t know what it’s like, Rose.”

Rose deadpans at him, her lips tight and firm. “I don’t?”

Jason thinks back to the first time he found her. Her right arm bent backward, her left cradling a wound that had bled out next to her. How her eyes stared out at nothing. Someone had pressed the mute button on the universe, except for the thud of his own heart. He should call someone. Bruce, 911, anyone, but his hands won’t move.  “Right, sorry.” 

It’s a terrible idea, they both know that, but the thought keeps eating away at him. Every time Jason lets his mind wander, it wanders to Roy--his crooked smile, his careless lean--the clumsiness that shouldn’t belong to a world-class archer, but it does. The headquarters seems so empty without Roy in it--so cavernous yet so claustrophobic like it’s going to eat Jason alive. 

-----

Three days later Rose is roundhouse kicking a punching bag when Jason finds her. “We can’t use the Lazarus Pit.”

 Rose stumbles, missing the bag completely and tumbling to the floor. “The fuck, Jason!” For someone who sees the future, Rose certainly didn’t hear this coming. 

Jason helps her up. “We can’t use the Lazarus Pit. I don’t want Roy going through what I did.” He meets her eyes. “What we did.” 

Rose nods, still breathless and annoyed in a way that makes him want to smother her with kisses. “You got another idea?” Jason swallows, squeezing the hand he’s still holding. “Jason?”

“You wouldn’t happen to know your HLA markers, would you?”

“My what?”

----

 Rose hates going to the doctor. It’s rarely a problem--her regeneration usually prevents her from getting sick, and her injuries hardly last long enough. But she’s been around enough mad scientists that she practically glares holes into the nurse when he brings out the needle. 

“Don’t kill him and maybe I’ll give you a lollipop afterward.” Jason elbows her other arm.

“A lollipop is not what I want to be sucking right now,” Rose fires back, looking at him instead of the needle. She relaxes slightly, and Jason kisses her, brushing her hair behind her ear.

The nurse coughs. “Alright. Easy in--and done.”

Rose swallows, taking in a deep breath. “Finally.” She closes her eyes, then stands up, rushing for the door.

Jason pauses in the doorframe, looking back at the nurse. “Uh, keep us posted.”

“We’ll call.”

----

It’s a stupid idea. The morgue doesn’t even understand why Jason Todd, adopted son of Billionaire Bruce Wayne wants to keep Roy Harper’s body in their freezer, especially when Oliver Queen seems to want it cremated as soon as possible. Bribing the owner doesn’t even work--not with Queen’s fortune also in play. So, Rose concocts some dumbass story about Harper’s biological family coming in from out of town. It’s so crazy that both Queen and the mortician fall for it. 

Both Jason and Rose hold their breath when his phone rings. And Rose, and her fucking precognition, hugs him tight and fucking squeals before the nurse even says it “It’s a match.”

---

“Nervous?” Jason sits next to her, squeezing her hand as the scientist hooks the catheter tube to a vein in Roy’s chest. Jason has a hard time looking at his body, so he focuses on Rose instead. 

“Fucking terrified.” Rose laughs humorously. 

“Trust me, if they try anything I’ll shoot them myself.”

“You know I can hear you, right?”

-----

Rose isn’t sure what’s more surprising, the gleam in Roy’s eyes like he just woke up from a nap, or the desperate kiss Jason gives him when he takes his first breath. Or maybe it’s not surprising at all. She should have known from the way Roy always seemed to be in Jason’s thoughts--he always had a convincing lie, and maybe Rose wanted to believe him. Maybe she should feel angry--betrayed, even, but all she feels is relief.

Finally, Jason remembers they’re not alone, and he breaks off from sucking Roy’s face, his face as red as Roy’s hair. 

Roy, on other hand, is not surprised at all. “Missed me that much, huh?”

[abraxos-is-toothless]

Home for Christmas

This is my fic for the @aftgexchange winter round for @andreil-minyasten

I had so much fun writing this and I really hope this lives up to what you wanted! I actually had an idea for a part 2 to this from another bit of your prompts. If you want me to write that for you, feel free to message and ask, I’ll be quite happy to do so:)

Enjoy!!<3

--------

December 22nd

“What the hell do you mean that you aren’t going to be here for christmas, Andrew?”

Neil was beyond, angry. He was pissed. Their holiday plans had been decided back in November. Andrew would come to Neil in Boston from New York and they’d host Aaron, Katelyn from the twenty fourth before they’d meet Nicky, Erik- who were spending Christmas with Eric’s family in Germany -and the rest of the foxes down in South Carolina to spend New Years with Wymack and Abby.

But apparently, that was all going to shit, now.

“I’ve tried Neil, but flights are delayed and there’s a storm coming in. I don’t know if I’ll make it, the Mas definitely won’t.” Now he was beyond consoling.

“If you had come two days ago like you said you would, this wouldn’t be a problem. We haven’t seen each other since September.” He missed his partner, missed soft touches when they’d reach for one another in the night, he missed laying his head in Andrew’s lap while the other man read one of his newest books. Overall, he just missed Andrew.

“How many times do I have to tell you that it was Kevin’s fault I couldn’t come out when I had planned?” Neil scoffed.

“What Kevin wants has never stopped you before. Whatever, Andrew, I’m going to bed.” He ignored Andrew’s reply, hanging up and flinging his phone onto his bedside table. He was so tired of everything. Neil carried out his nighttime routine quite aggressively, flinging back the duvet with force, ignoring the constant buzzing of his phone. Tonight, the bed felt uncomfortable, lumpy and cold, so awfully cold. It had been three years of this, of the long distance, scheduling time to see each other, of having to be without one another for the majority of the year after spending four years attached at the hip while they were at PSU. The two of them, being how stubborn they both were, had sworn that the distance wouldn’t be an issue. Neil had to play with the Bobcats for two years minimum, considering it was the best contract he could get straight out of college and the closest to Andrew’s team.

Everything was great at first, wonderful even, they saw each other on as many weekends as they could, called and texted every day, and Skyped at least twice a week. But then shit went down hill. Practice built up and up if the team’s performance declined, promotions and photo shoots and team signings started taking up their free time. It was shit, they knew it was shit but, what could they do? He hated this, he hated everything about it.

His sleep that night was fitful and restless, and he was wide awake when the sun rose the next morning, yellow and orange rays of light hitting the empty spot beside him.

December 24th

Neil hadn’t spoken to Andrew since he abruptly ended their phone call two nights ago. There were several missed calls from the blonde on his phone, and many unread texts. He saw them as they came through, sometimes just his name, sometimes they asked if he was alright and ‘why won’t you pick up the fucking phone, Abram?’

Every part of him wanted to, fucking god, did he want to, but he had no idea what his brain would spout from his lips. He was terrified that the anger, the hurt of the separation, would come back full force and he’d say something awful that he’d most likely regret. That was his personal default when he was mad, finding exactly what to say that would hurt and hurt hard. So, no, he didn’t pick up the phone, he just left it alone and listened to the odd buzz as it vibrated against the kitchen counter. It was almost 8:30pm and Neil was making, or hoped to be making, cinnamon sugar cookies that would with any luck, still be warm and not burnt by the time Aaron and Katelyn arrived. They were apparently Kate’s latest pregnancy craving and he wanted for her to have them on hand so Aaron wouldn’t have to leave at some ungodly hour to get store bought ones.

There was flour everywhere and he was pretty sure there was some cinnamon on his forehead somehow, on top of that, he’d used more bowls than were actually needed for the ingredients the recipe called for but he wasn’t exactly surprised. Anything to do with cooking or baking was Andrew’s area of expertise: Neil just liked to watch, a giddy smile on his face whenever his partner whispered ‘staring’ without even looking at him. Shaking his head before he started to wallow in his own self pity, the timer to the first batch went off just as the buzzer to the apartment did. Quickly pulling out the baking tray, he placed it on the side, barely taking note of how the shapes he cut out now resembled blobs as he rushed to the door and pressed the button for the speaker. “Hello?”

“Neil! It’s Kate, Aaron is just sorting the bags and told me to come up first.” He smiled despite his somber mood for the past week.

“Come on up, I’ll buzz you in. Do you want me to wait outside the elevator for you?”

“No, no, I’ll be fine!” He agreed and let her in, wiping his hands before propping his front door open and waiting for her anyway. Before long, he was greeted with an eye rolling Katelyn, but there was a grin on her lips nonetheless. “You’re nearly as bad as my husband, I’m surprised he even let me come up on my own, but thank you.” She said, as he held out his elbow for her to take. She had begun to waddle a little now with how big she had gotten. Neil supposed that having twins made the whole process a little different.

He helped her settle into the armchair in the living room and asked, “can I get you a drink?”

“Water would be great, thanks. Also, is that cinnamon I smell?” He felt his cheeks go hot and knew he was blushing.

“You mentioned at one point on the phone that cinnamon cookies are your newest craving and so I made some for you. They’re still warm if you’d like a few?” Katelyn nodded excitedly, murmuring how grateful she was at the thoughtful gesture and he hurried off, placing a few questionable looking snowmen and coming back into the other room just as the buzzer went off again. He left the pregnant woman to devour her food and admire his sparkly Christmas tree and went to let Aaron in. When the elevator opened up on his floor once again, he was met with a ruffled Minyard twin who was surrounded by bags.

“What the hell do you bring with you?”

“Shut your mouth and help me carry this shit, would you?” Neil kept his mouth shut and hefted a couple of bags into his arms. Most went into the spare room where the couple would be sleeping and then Aaron unloaded a big bag of presents to sit underneath the tree while he went back to put more cookies in the oven, and to load a few more onto Katelyn’s now empty plate. When he came back and sat himself on the couch, Aaron seemed out of breath, hugging as he lay on the wood floor.

“I’ll ask again, how much did you bring?” The woman stuffing her face giggled as her husband giggled and replied;

“We have your presents and Andrew’s presents from us, mine and Aaron’s that we’ve gotten each other, and we brought all the gifts for when we see the others next week. Also our clothes and my hospital bag even though I have about two and a half months left.” He nodded, though he was confused on the amount of clothes. They only lived an hour away from him and could go back for more clothes before they headed to South Carolina. Neil was about to mention just that when Aaron interrupted.

“Where is my brother anyway?” Ah yes, he’d forgotten to mention that. He let his face go blank as he told them what had happened. That Andrew kept pushing it back until he couldn’t come, that they’d argued and that they weren’t currently speaking. Katelyn had something akin to pity on her face and Aaron looked as though he was angry on behalf of Neil. “What the fuck? He’s seriously going to miss Christmas with his family, with you?”

“Looks like it.”

“But since when has what Kevin wanted ever mattered to him? Unless it benefitted his own needs of course.” It was weird slowly becoming friends with Aaron and seeing that occasionally, they could be on the same wavelength and agree with each other. It was a little bit dangerous, in his opinion.

“That’s what I said.”

“Is he still going to come to Palmetto next week.” He didn’t know what to say, because Andrew could still turn up at Abby’s despite not being here now. He also hadn’t spoken to him, so he hadn’t got the chance to ask. Neil stayed quiet. Aaron looked like he was about to press for more when Kate suggested that they watch a movie together and started setting up the tv without waiting for either of them to reply. Twenty minutes into the movie, Katelyn had picked A Christmas Carol because it was a classic, Neil got the final batch of cookies from the oven and cleared down the kitchen for tomorrow. Another ten minutes after that, Katelyn disappeared to put on pyjamas and Aaron grabbed him and Neil a beer from the fridge. By ten o’clock they were debating on watching one more film or going to bed when the apartment door opened and closed loudly.

The three of them half jumped out of their seats, turning violently to see Andrew Minyard standing in the doorway, and Neil’s breath caught in his throat. He was bundled up in a thick black coat, the collar pulled up around his neck, and his black knitted bobble hat Neil had brought him last year was pulled down over his ears that he just knew would still be adorably pink at the tips. One of his hands was tucked into his pocket and the other held a large duffel bag.

“Well well, look at what the cat finally dragged in.” Both Neil and Andrew glared at Aaron, who only rolled his eyes in response to their annoyance. Turning back to Andrew he gave him one last once over before standing slowly.

“Why don’t you go and sort yourself out,” he pointed to the bedroom where their en-suite was, “I’ll be in there in a minute.” Andrew gave a curt nod in confirmation and disappeared down the hall, bedroom door shutting softly. Katelyn was speaking to him, saying that she and Aaron were going to head to bed, kissing him on the cheek and pulling her husband along. Neil’s first instinct was to run to the bedroom, wrap his partner up in his arms, kiss him until they were breathless and then never let him go again but he was still mad at him. So, he cleared the few empty cans from the coffee table, and took Kate’s dirty glass and plate to the kitchen and dumped them in the sink. He locked the door and the windows out of habit and switched off all of the lights and slowly walked to his bedroom where he knew Andrew was waiting.

When he reached the door, he froze with his hand on the handle, closing his eyes and breathing deeply several times before he forced himself to step inside. As he suspected. Andrew was now in a pair of grey sweats and, he noticed with some satisfaction, one of Neil’s long sleeve cotton shirts. This one was a navy blue and Andrew had never looked more beautiful than he didn’t now, in soft clothes, hair ruffled and his nose and cheeks still a little pink from the cold air outside. He tugged on his withering self control and stopped himself from climbing over the other man and just holding him. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Taking that as a cue to start first, Andrew spoke, though Neil never expected for those words to ever come out of his partner’s mouth. “I lied to you.”

“What?” The blonde looked down at his hands, sighed, and then stood, walking and walking until he was a mere few steps away from Neil. Before, before there would be no need for that distance, because they’d healed and grown together and barely used ’yes or no’ unless it was a bad day or they were trying new things. Fuck long distance relationships.

“I lied. Kevin was never the one to keep me back in New York the first time, and there was no storm coming in to stop me from coming this time.” He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t fucking breathe.

“What the fuck? How could you lie, you swore you’d never lie to me. Why didn't you want to come, and why turn up at the last minute?” Andrew did step into his space then, on hand gripping his hip and the other linking their pinkie fingers together.

“Because there was something I was trying to sort out but those god damn stickball coaches are a pain in my ass.” Neil blinked, and then blinked a couple more times, before he was led to the bed where Andrew let go of him to dig out a stack of papers from his duffel bag and handed them into his scarred hands. “Merry Christmas, Junkie.” Okay, now he really was confused as he stared at the item in his hands with a furrowed brow. His anger was still there, but dying out slowly. He flicked through page after page eyes widening and mouth dropping open before he looked back at Andrew whose lips were quirking at his dumbfounded expression.

“You’re serious? You join the Bobcats when the new season starts?” His lover nodded.

“I’m tired. I’m tired of being away from you, of all the fighting. I’ve been working with your coach and mine to trade me with your goalkeeper, Angie. They hated it at first but I got there in the end. That’s why I’m so late, they were still hesitant about signing the damn forms.”

“So you started yet another fight with me?” In one swift movement there were hands on his cheeks and words were being breathed against his lips, sending pleasant, incredibly missed shivers down his spine as he wrapped his arms around Andrew’s waist.

“Not my finest moment, but I was trying to surprise you. Clearly, I’m not very good at it.” Neil chuckled wetly, and pressed their foreheads together.

“This is really happening?” He whispered gently.

“Yeah. I’ve still got to move all my stuff out here and things like that, but it’s real, Abram.”

“Then kiss me, you asshole, and make me forget your very bad surprise.” Andrew laughed then too, walking him backwards and pushing him down onto the bed, straddling his waist. They kissed for what seemed like hours, wrapped up and lost in one another. When they finally pulled apart, his lips felt tingly and his breathing came in pants.

That night, he fell asleep to warm sheets, a soft body behind him and cradled in a strong pair of arms. Despite the rocky start, Neil thought this might have been his best Christmas yet.

-------

I really hoped you liked it and if you do want that part two, I’ll be more than willing. I’m actually quite happy with the idea:)

[davidmann95]

Superman’s 10 Best of the ��10s

Good Miracle Monday, folks! The first third Monday of May of a new decade for that matter, and while that means that today in the DC Universe Superman just revealed his secret identity to the world on the latest anniversary of that time he defeated the devil, in ours it puts a capstone on a solid 10 years of his adventures now in the rear view mirror, ripe for reevaluation. And given there’s a nice solid ‘10′ right there I’ll go ahead with the obvious and list my own top ten for Superman comics of the past decade, with links in the titles to those I’ve spoken on in depth before - maybe you’ll find something you overlooked, or at least be reminded of good times.

A plethora of honorable mentions: I’m disqualifying team-ups or analogue character stories, but no list of the great Superman material of the last decade would be complete without bringing up Cave Carson Has A Cybernetic Eye #7, Avengers 34.1, Irredeemable, Sideways Annual #1, Supreme: Blue Rose, Justice League: Sixth Dimension, usage of him in Wonder Twins, (somewhat in spite of itself) Superior, from all I’ve heard New Super-Man, DCeased #5, and Batman: Super Friends. And while they couldn’t quite squeeze in, all due praise to the largely entertaining Superman: Unchained, the decades’ great Luthor epic in Superman: The Black Ring, a brilliant accompaniment to Scott Snyder’s work with Lex in Lex Luthor: Year of the Villain, the bonkers joy of the Superman/Luthor feature in Walmart’s Crisis On Infinite Earths tie-in comics, Geoff Johns and John Romita’s last-minute win in their Superman run with their final story 24 Hours, Tom Taylor’s quiet criticism of the very premise he was working with on Injustice and bitter reflection on the changing tides for the character in The Man of Yesterday, the decades’ most consistent Superman ongoing in Bryan Miller and company’s Smallville Season 11, and Superman: American Alien, which probably would have made the top ten but has been dropped like a hot potato by one and all for Reasons. In addition are several stories from Adventures of Superman, a book with enough winners to merit a class of its own: Rob Williams and Chris Weston’s thoughtful Savior, Kyle Killen and Pia Guerra’s haunting The Way These Things Begin, Marc Guggenheim and Joe Bennett’s heart-wrenching Tears For Krypton, Christos Gage and Eduardo Francisco’s melancholy Flowers For Bizarro, Josh Elder and Victor Ibanez’s deeply sappy but deeply effective Dear Superman, Ron Marz and Doc Shaner’s crowdpleasing Only Child, and Kelly Sue DeConnick and Valentine DeLandro’s super-sweet Mystery Box.

10. Greg Pak/Aaron Kuder’s Action Comics

Oh, what might’ve been. In spite of an all-timer creative team I can’t justify listing this run any higher given how profoundly and comprehensively compromised it is, from the status quo it was working with to the litany of ill-conceived crossovers to regular filler artists to its ignominious non-ending. But with the most visceral, dynamic, and truly humane take on Clark Kent perhaps of all time that still lives up to all Superman entails, and an indisputably iconic instant-classic moment to its name, I can’t justify excluding it either.

9. Action Comics #1000

Arguably the climax to the decade for the character as his original title became the first superhero comic to reach a 1000th issue. While any anthology of this sort is a crapshoot by nature, everyone involved here seemed to understand the enormity of the occasion and stepped up as best they could; while the lack of a Lois Lane story is indefensible, some are inevitably bland, and one or two are more than a bit bizarre, by and large this was a thoroughly charming tribute to the character and his history with a handful of legitimate all-timer short stories.

8. Faster Than A Bullet

Much as Adventures of Superman was rightfully considered an oasis amidst the New 52′s worst excesses post-Morrison and in part pre-Pak, few stories from it seem well-remembered now, and even at the time this third issue inexplicably seemed to draw little attention. Regardless, Matt Kindt and Stephen Segovia’s depiction of an hour in the life of Superman as he saves four planets first thing in the morning without anyone noticing - while clumsy in its efforts at paralleling the main events with a literal subplot of a conversation between Lois and Lex - is one of the best takes I can recall on the scope on which he operates, and ultimately the purpose of Clark Kent.

7. Man and Superman

Seemingly geared on every front against me, built as it was on several ideas of how to handle Superman’s origin I legitimately hate, and by a writer whose work over the years has rarely been to my liking, Marv Wolfman and Claudio Castellini’s Man and Superman somehow came out of nowhere to be one of my favorite takes on Clark Kent’s early days. With a Metropolis and characters within it that feel not only alive but lived-in, it’s shocking that a story written and drawn over ten years before it was actually published prefigured so many future approaches to its subject, and felt so of-the-moment in its depiction of a 20-something scrambling to figure out how to squeeze into his niche in the world when it actually reached stores.

6. Brian Bendis’s run

Controversial in the extreme, and indeed heir to several of Brian Bendis’s longstanding weaknesses as a writer, his work on The Man of Steel, Superman, and Action Comics has nevertheless been defined at least as much by its ambition and intuitive grasp of its lead, as well as fistfuls of some of the best artistic accompaniment in the industry. At turns bombastic space action, disaster flick, spy-fi, oddball crime serial, and family drama, its assorted diversions and legitimate attempts at shaking up the formula - or driving it into new territory altogether, as in the latest, apparently more longterm-minded unmasking of Clark Kent in Truth - have remained anchored and made palatable by an understanding of Superman’s voice, insecurities, and convictions that go virtually unmatched.

5. Strange Visitor

The boldest, most out-of-left-field Superman comic of the past 10 years, Joe Keatinge took the logline of Adventures of Superman to do whatever creators wanted with the character and, rather than getting back to a classic take absent from the mainline titles at the time as most others did, used the opportunity for a wildly expansive exploration of the hero from his second year in action to his far-distant final adventure. Alongside a murderer’s row of artists, Keatinge pulled off one of the few comics purely about how great Superman is that rather than falling prey to hollow self-indulgence actually managed to capture the wonder of its subject.

4. Superman: Up In The Sky

And here’s the other big “Superman’s just the best” comic the decade had to offer that actually pulled it off. Sadly if reasonably best-known for its one true misfire of a chapter, with the increasing antipathy towards Tom King among fans in general likely not helping, what ended up overlooked is that this is a stone-cold classic on moment of arrival. Andy Kubert turns in work that stands alongside the best of his career, Tom King’s style is honed to its cleanest edge by the 12-pager format and subject matter, and the quest they set their lead out on ends up a perfect vehicle to explore Superman’s drive to save others from a multitude of angles. I don’t know what its reputation will end up being in the long-term - I was struck how prosaic and subdued the back cover description was when I got this in hardcover, without any of the fanfare or critic quotes you’d expect from the writer of Mister Miracle and Vision tackling Superman - but while its one big problem prevents me from ranking it higher, this is going to remain an all-timer for me.

3. Jeff Loveness’s stories Help and Glasses

Cheating shamelessly here, but Jeff Loveness’s Help with David Williams and Glasses with Tom Grummett are absolutely two halves of the same coin, a pair of theses on Superman’s enduring relevance as a figure of hope and the core of Lois and Clark’s relationship that end up covering both sides of Superman the icon and Superman the guy. While basically illustrated essays, any sense of detached lecturing is utterly forbidden by the raw emotion on display here that instantly made them some of the most acclaimed Superman stories of the last several years; they’re basically guaranteed to remain in ‘best-of’ collections from now until the end of time.

2. Superman Smashes The Klan

A bitter race for the top spot, but #2 is no shame here; while not quite my favorite Superman story of the past ten years, it’s probably the most perfectly executed. While I don’t think anyone could have quite expected just *how* relevant this would be at the top of the decade, Gene Yang and Gurihiru put together an adventure in the best tradition of the Fleischer shorts and the occasional bystander-centered episodes of Batman: The Animated Series to explore racism’s both overt and subtle infections of society’s norms and institutions, the immigrant experience, and both of its leads’ senses of alienation and justice. Exciting, stirring, and insightful, it’s debuted to largely universal acknowledgement as being the best Superman story in years, and hopefully it’ll be continued to be marketed as such long-term.

1. Grant Morrison’s Action Comics

When it came time to make the hard choice, it came in no small part down to that I don’t think we would have ever seen a major Golden Age Superman revival project like Smashes The Klan in the first place if not for this. Even hampering by that godawful Jim Lee armor, inconsistent (if still generally very good) art, and a fandom that largely misunderstood it on arrival can’t detract from that this is Grant Morrison’s run on a Superman ongoing, a journey through Superman’s development as a character reframed as a coherent arc that takes him from Metropolis’s most beaten-down neighborhoods to the edge of the fifth dimension and the monstrous outermost limits of ‘Superman’ as a concept. It launched discussions of Superman as a corporate icon and his place relative to authority structures that have never entirely vanished, introduced multiple all-time great new villains, and made ‘t-shirt Superman’ a distinct era and mode of operation for the character that I’m skeptical will ever entirely go away. No other work on the character this decade had the bombast, scope, complexity, or ambition of this run, with few able to match its charm or heart. And once again, it was, cannot stress this enough, Grant Morrison on an ongoing Superman book.

[guccybangtan]

lost in the roses | kim namjoon

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader Word Count: 1841 Warnings: a bit suggestive at the end req: y|n

songs to listen to:      young forever - bts      break my heart again - finneas

y/b/n - your brother’s name y/c/n - your cousin’s name

You stood quietly at the island in the kitchen as you worked diligently to prepare dinner. Ever since you were young you cooked for your family, so when you returned home to visit, it was no different.

This visit, though, was a special occasion. You were in town with your family to celebrate your brother’s engagement. It was special, not only because of the engagement, but because you managed to get your husband Namjoon to attend with you.

Since he is such a busy man, he usually has to skip out on family gatherings, which they understood, but since they currently had a break from promotions, he had decided to get away with you for a while.

Just as you placed the chopped kimchi into the pot, you felt Namjoon’s long arms snake around your waist.

“How’s it going in here?” he asked, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder.

You shrugged in response, “It’s goin’.’’

As Namjoon opened his mouth to speak again, he was cut off by screaming coming from the living room.

When your family got together they really went all out. All of your cousins and everyone was there, including their young children.

Letting out a quiet giggle, you looked back to Namjoon who was getting ready to speak again.

This time, he was interrupted by your mother.

“Namjoon, can you come help y/b/n with the barbeque? He can’t get it to light.’’

“Sure, tell him I’ll be right there.’’ He responded, a smile gracing his features.

You loved Namjoon with all your heart, but seeing the way the light fell on his sunkissed features combined with the way he was so sweet to your family made your heart swell tenfold.

Namjoon pressed another quick kiss to your temple and turned to head outside to meet your brother.

“I’ll be back.’’ He called.

“I’ll be here.’’

You worked quickly to finish cooking and turned on the stove to let the kimchi stew cook.

Once you cleaned the mess you made your way out to the living room where you settled on the couch next to your aunt. You made light small talk about your life, how things were in Korea, how Namjoon was, and when she could expect a baby.

You looked at her, mouth wide open. Your brain was frozen.

“Not anytime soon sadly.’’ Namjoon came to your rescue, settling down on your other side.

You leaned into your husband’s embrace and let your eyes gently close as him and your aunt continued their conversation.

The three of you remained on the couch until the timer on your phone went off, rousing you from your rest. You wiggled your way out of Namjoon’s arms and made your way to the kitchen to check the stew.

Stirring the pot, it wasn’t long before you were joined by your mother again.

“You married such an amazing man, y/n/n,’’ Your mom cooed,” he’s amazing with your little cousins.’’

“I know.’’ You smiled, looking out of the kitchen to where Namjoon was situated on the floor now with the kids.

“You two should have a few.’’ she joked.

None of your siblings had kids yet, and you were the only one truly married. y/b/n was the next in line and your sister wasn’t even in a relationship yet, so realistically, you and Namjoon would be the first two to have children. Unless something drastic happened. Unplanned pregnancy cough cough**

“Maybe one day.’’ You told your mother as you replaced the lid on the pot.

She continued to blabber at you about how cute your babies would be, and that you would make such a good mom.

You loved visiting your family, but boy could it get tiring.

“You know Namjoon is super busy right now mom, I don’t really feel like raising any babies alone.’’ You spoke as you stood up from where you were leaning against the sink.

You had one goal in mind and that was to snatch up Namjoon and find somewhere quiet to have a moment of peace.

Just as you reached him in the living room your brother was calling through the house that dinner was ready.

Sighing, you reached out to your husband and helped pull him up from the floor.

The both of you made your way outside to get seated at the large table. You could feel Namjoon’s hand on the small of your back as you walked.

Right before you sat down he leaned over to you and whispered: “Wanna head off to the rose garden after dinner?’’

You nodded, pulling him down into the seat next to yours.

The plot of land your parents lived on was fairly large, and since they were both retired they took great pride in cultivating a lush looking yard complete with flowers, cute outdoor furniture, and an actual produce garden that yielded so many crops they supplied the whole neighborhood.

Mother was especially proud of her rose garden that was located along the back fence line in the corner. It was complete with rows of tall rose bushes that created a path leading to a small fountain ivy surrounding the base. Her own mini-labrynth

Being surrounded by flowers was relaxing on its own but accompanied with the soothing sounds of the fountain and plush outdoor seating it was enough to want to live there.

Dinner went by relatively quickly, ending with a toast to y/b/n and his wife to be.

Everyone was quick to disperse following dinner, some heading to clean up while others continued to socialize.

Since the seasons were changing and the sun was staying out longer you were hoping to catch the sunset this evening.

Namjoon grabbed your hand as soon as you finished placing your dirty plates in the sink to be washed and quickly led you out the back door of the kitchen, hoping the two of you would be able to find a few moments of solitude amongst the roses.

You managed to make it into the garden but the victory was short lived.

The two of you were about halfway through the path when you heard screams approaching quickly.

Namjoon looked to you with wide, tired eyes.

“I love the kids but I need a break.’’

Thinking on your feet you remembered your mother's tool shed that was nestled a bit ahead somewhere.

Without saying a word you pulled Namjoon along behind you and not even 10 yards ahead was the shed.

As you got to the door you faced another issue. It was locked.

“This is the only place they wouldn’t see us.’’ You said turning to Namjoon, a crease appearing in your brow.

You just wanted a few minutes alone with the love of your life.

It’s a good thing that Namjoon was the intellect in the relationship because without a word he pulled you into the bushes next to the shed. There was enough of a gap between that specific bush and the fence that you both could stand in there and be hidden next to the shed.

“It’s a bit tight.’’ You spoke softly, shifting your body so your arms were wrapped around Namjoon’s torso with your head resting on his chest, as opposed to standing shoulder to shoulder.

He reciprocated your motions, resting his chin on your head.

“Just gives me the excuse to hold you.’’

Feeling his voice reverberate in his chest, you snuggled deeper into his embrace.

The shouting children that were once following you were fast to bolt by deeper into the garden, and even faster in returning with shouts that y/n and Namjoon weren’t in there.

As you tried to remove yourself from Namjoon’s embrace, his only response was to tighten his hold on you.

“Joon let’s keep going.’’ You whined, wiggling in his arms.

“I haven’t been able to just hold you in a while, baby. Let me enjoy the moment.’’ he responded, beginning to sway.

“We can enjoy the moment on the comfy couch by the fountain. If we don’t hurry the sun’s gonna set!’’ You continued to whine.

“The sun will set tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day.’’ A new voice spoke.

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the new source of sound.

Stumbling out of the bushes you and Namjoon were faced with your mother.

“What are you two doing in the bushes?” She asked with a raised brow.

You shared a look with Namjoon, attempting to stifle a giggle. Your mother was fairly short, so when she tried to be intimidating, it didn’t really work.

Neither you nor Namjoon had an answer so you just stood there smiling as you rocked on the balls of your feet.

Cracking, she shook her head, “You kids.’’

“Hey, in all fairness, we’ve done everything you’ve asked all day. Namjoon even pretended to be a jungle gym for y/c/n’s kids! We just wanted to be alone for a bit.’’ You reasoned.

“You can be alone later. Grandma and Grandpa are leaving. You need to come say goodbye.’’ Your mom beckoned for you to follow her.

Groaning, you followed defeatedly.

“We’ll try again in a bit.’’ Namjoon said to you, bumping your shoulder with his as you walked. You nearly tripped over your own feet at his ministrations.

“You watch out, you overgrown baby!” you responded, checking him back causing him to stumble into the last bit of flowers on the way into the open yard.

“Careful, baby. We’ll be alone eventually and I’ll get you good.’’ Namjoon slung his arm over your shoulders.

“Bring it on Joonie.’’

Approaching the rest of your family, you bid farewell to the rest of the older members, including your grandparents.

Over the course of the rest of the evening you and Namjoon continuously tried to be together but were stifled each and every time.

You tried to cuddle when a movie was playing but ended up being human pillows for your cousins.

You tried to work together when you and your siblings were tasked with finishing the cleaning but your brother had insisted he needed Namjoon when cleaning the barbeque and all things involved in that, leaving you with your sister and soon to be sister-in-law to finish the dishes and inside of the house.

It wasn’t until the clock struck 11 that you were able to retire to your room, husband in tow, to get settled in for sleep.

“Well that was..’’ he trailed off.

“A long day.’’

You both changed and settled under the covers.

“You have such an amazing family.’’ Namjoon spoke, grasping your hip to roll your body into his.

You smiled.

“My mom was saying the same thing about you earlier. After she interrogated me about babies.’’

It was Joon’s turn to laugh.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you.

“I’m glad we’re finally alone.’’

“Me too.’’ You hummed.

“Y’know what though?” Namjoon asked as he began peppering kisses over your face.

“Hm?’’

“We could always practice.’’

fin.

[ghostmartyr]

SnK 124 Thoughts

Have some faith, Reiner.

As if we’d ever forget Han Solo.

The only nice thing about what’s happening now is that it’s forced the right priorities on people. Despite Eren saying, way back in Trost, that people all uniting to face one enemy is too rosy an idea to have a place in reality, for this one island, in these final, traumatic moments, no one wants all these people to die.

With various faces painted on it, most of our main cast on either side has always been focused on one thing: survival. Now Eren rejects that entire concept for the protection of one group. In the barest of bones, that is what every single villain of this manga has always done. Of course the only option is to reject him.

And of course Gabi, who has always been compared to Eren, who has had the most traumatic series of experiences of her young life, stands up and starts fighting.

(One in shadows, one in light. Winning all the high school book reports here.)

This is the best of Eren, in a child who has been ruined by this world just as thoroughly. Gabi will bring back her friends.

Eren chases after slavers to save a girl he doesn’t know.

Gabi runs into streets full of monsters and saves someone who hates her.

I’ve always enjoyed Eren as a protagonist (his dip into antagonist, not so much). In Trost, he takes on the burden of being a symbol of humanity’s hope, but I’ve always felt that his true symbolic nature is that he’s the one who lays claim to humanity’s outrage.

There are things in this world that are simply wrong. Righteous fury without limits is a satisfying reaction to that, and at the start of the manga, it’s something that all of Paradis has basically lost. They’ve grown complacent with their lot in life. Even when the titans invade, they don’t dream beyond reclaiming the territory that they’ve always known.

Eren’s status as a rage monster is very much a meme, and he’s very much more than that, but it has always been fitting that the main character is a bonfire that lights the sparks of the rest of the cast. Eren inspires motion. Before he has any touch of competence and plot magic, he talks and his comrades find themselves listening.

Gabi takes up that torch here.

Reiner is done (again. sorry, Reiner). The world is probably done. Gabi has spent this whole arc being some kind of done.

Gabi gets up, and goes to look for her friend. Falco follows her onto an airship; she follows him into hell.

Gabi gets up, and protects the girl who wants her dead. She faces down a titan with a weapon not meant for the job, and she wins.

Just like the young woman she murdered.

Sasha joins the Survey Corps after Trost. She comes face to face with a titan, and she falters. She fails to kill it, and it comes after her, and she’s scared. She wants to leave. She considers leaving.

Dot Pixis’ speech reignites her will.

Sasha stays, and a month later she saves her little sister.

Her little sister protects a pair of enemy child soldiers.

One of those child soldiers saves her life.

Paradis begins without a spark. Even the people who are signing up to be soldiers are mostly doing it so they won’t be seen as cowards, or so they can go further into the walls as Military Police. People who want to go outside and kill the titans are nuts. The Survey Corps is nuts. They’re a waste of taxes, and anyone who wants to join them is a suicidal idiot.

Enter Eren. Enter enough fury and impact that the fire can’t be contained in one person, and the sparks start spreading. The people who have been left to tend their own fires for years are given kindling. The people who don’t know what it’s like to not be freezing cold are given a taste of warmth.

For a series that begins in stagnation, a protagonist devoted to movement is going to inspire the most change.

Then he decides to commit genocide and ruin everything, but hey, look at how much that’s inspiring people to get along!

Eren, you’re a fucking disaster.

Niccolo basically hands us the series’ thesis on a silver platter, so I’ll refrain from trying to fit his quotes into anything resembling a paragraph.

Niccolo is not Eldian.

Eldians are the one with the ability to literally transform into monsters. A physical manifestation of the horrors all humans are capable of if you take away their reason. That’s why the world calls them devils. They’re all a bunch of ticking time bombs just waiting to go off; why wouldn’t the world condemn, hate, and fear that?

Those ticking time bombs always take at least one more person willing to start the timer for them.

In the current era, Marley has been the force happily strapping bombs to children’s chests.

Niccolo hits on the truest point. From someone who is not Eldian, who cannot physically manifest the horrors all around them that could not exist without certain genetics--

Niccolo has a devil inside of him, too. He’s given in to it. He has been a monster, so lost in his despair that he’s willing to kill children.

The true enemy of this world is not titans. It’s falling prey to the demons every human carries inside. That is the universal human experience, and everywhere people fall in that fight, evil follows.

Titans exist because a man rapes a slave and has her children eat her.

That evil is a fault of human nature, not blood.

Niccolo and Gabi have been the monsters.

Unlike most titans, they have the option of coming back. They’ve had the fortune to live long enough that they can come back. Hell, it might be because she hits the bargaining phase, but even this chapter Gabi goes from suggesting killing Eren to talking to him and using his power for something actually useful.

-pats Gabi on the head-

Not bad, kiddo.

To the left, we have Jean and Connie.

Hell.

Connie’s simplest (as well as the most exciting, because he’s running off to Wall Rose territory with Falco, who has Ymir’s memories), and rather devastating. For four years, his mother has been a titan. Unable to move. She’s his only remaining family. Everyone else in his village, Connie spent their last night alive praying that they would die. He’s one of the three people left who remember Utgard.

Being trapped on a tower in the middle of the night, being hunted for sport by people he’s known all his life.

On Zeke’s command.

The man Paradis is forced to consider an ally. The man Connie is not allowed to touch. The man who is still, years later, turning people into titans. The man one of his closest friends ostensibly betrays them for.

After all that, his friends have someone who can save his mom, and they try to tell him no. Because that might hurt the feelings of their enemies. People like Reiner, for instance. The guy Connie still cries for in Return to Shiganshina.

Don’t worry about your mother, Connie. Worry about the feelings of everyone else.

Also Sasha is dead and this kid’s bestie pulled the trigger.

But seriously Connie, chill.

[chill not found]

Connie has, frankly, done a fantastic job holding everything together. The fact that he’s only snapping now speaks greatly to his character, and leaves me not too concerned about Falco. Connie ranks as one of the lowest on who’s left of people who would be willing to kill a child. Even if it’s for his mother, if Falco’s awake, I don’t think Connie can do it.

...If he can, the manga will have actually found a way to get even darker, which, if we’re being honest, I sort of thought we were beyond at this point, so flip a coin I guess.

Jean likewise has some of my favorite material in this chapter. He’s grown into a far better commander than he was at Trost, and having the terrain duplicated so well only emphasizes it.

But as ever, the true entertainment comes from Marco.

Who is also dead.

Yes, still.

“You’re not a strong person... so you can really understand how weak people feel.”

Jean is not wrong that destroying the rest of the world sort of fixes Paradis’ main problems. The issue is that it’s horrifically immoral, not that it wouldn’t be effective (until a civil war breaks out).

Because everyone spent all their time hating them, their only protection was murdering them all. And it’s all on one person’s decisions. They’re hardly involved, aren’t they? If they sit back and do nothing, it’s just karma, right? What could they possibly do at this point?

“But you’re also good at recognizing what’s going on at any given moment. You know exactly what needs to be done. I mean... most humans are weak, including me... But if I got an order from someone who saw things like I do... no matter how tough it was, I’d do my damnedest to carry it out.”

Jean’s right. They do reap the benefits of this horrible choice. No more complicated politics. Just a blank slate to do better on. Everyone on Paradis gets to live. Without putting too fine a point on it, that’s an argument we’re probably all familiar with, and here a character is, pointing it all out.

This fixes all their problems. Good, right?

No.

Because standing back and doing nothing while genocide is committed is fucking wrong.

That’s a question this series has grappled with from the beginning; which is more important, survival or doing what’s right?

In the start, we have a protagonist who is fully comfortable throwing his own life away in the name of doing what’s right. At the moment, he’s giving every appearance of being fully comfortable throwing away everyone else’s life in the name of keeping the people he cares about alive.

This chapter, we have Connie arguing for his mom’s life over someone more politically relevant’s.

Bringing back another fandom favorite, Serum Bowl pretty much locks these arguments in a cage and pokes them gently with an assault rifle.

Survival says Erwin. Armin doesn’t matter, except to Eren and Mikasa. Erwin matters to Levi in a way he doesn’t to them. What’s right falls to the floor except to be brandished like a machete against the other side’s wants. Hange has to swoop in and pick it up, and by then Floch’s involved and clubbing everyone over the head with his newfound fanaticism.

Once it’s gotten to that point, humanity’s continued survival still says Erwin.

It’s still saving a man’s life.

A man who will die without this intervention.

For the reason of bringing him back to life to suffer in everyone’s place.

It’s pragmatic, and it truly is best for humanity’s survival beyond the walls.

It is also deeply unkind.

Send these thousands of people to their deaths so  the rest can live. Eat each other. Die, die, and die until someone can live. Anything that promotes survival is, in fact, the right choice.

In the Female Titan arc, when Armin and Jean are watching the full extent of Erwin’s plan in front of their eyes, Armin says that Erwin might very well be evil for it, but given where they are, that’s a good thing. That someone strong enough to be that measured with their few remaining lives is in control--even if he’s committing a moral evil, he’s protecting something more important.

It is the preliminary version of Floch’s eventual conclusion.

They need a devil to ensure their survival.

Levi ultimately rejects that.

He doesn’t bring a man back to life so that he can bear their burdens.

It’s one of the smaller goods of the series. After a life of suffering through what is necessary, Levi chooses to release Erwin from it, even though he’s still tactically essential. Again and again people have discussed how much it would help if one more strategist was out Paradis’ table in these times. Levi’s decision is what prevents the most experienced from taking a seat.

Levi picks to be kind over making the choice that more properly secures survival.

Because the survival of what? More choices leading down the exact same road? The endless cycle of sacrifice that’s turned human bodies into resources instead of recognizing them as people?

Titanization at its core?

In the Serum Bowl, Levi doesn’t choose who he wants to survive. He chooses what. He chooses to recognize a man as human instead of a commodity. Something the two brats screaming at him couldn’t let go of. Something he couldn’t let go of.

Do you want to survive, or create a world worth surviving in?

Eren’s actions will destroy the world beyond the walls he always wanted to see. Indiscriminately. Some of it deserves destruction and worse. The parts that don’t will be swept away all the same.

This plan creates the world the First King told them they all lived in; there is Paradis, and nothing beyond it. The rest of humanity is dead.

Thanks to forfeiting all humanity.

And I guess if anyone on the island has a problem with it, kill them too. Also anyone who encourages anyone to have a problem with it. Just set up your secret task force, give the names, and keep those named living in terror for a century until one of them becoming a serial killer in response seems perfectly reasonable.

For those in need of the reminder, Karl is a douche.

Karl thought genocide was such a bad thing that he committed genocide over it, but it’s okay because his genocide was smaller.

Eren thinks genocide is such a bad thing he’s set up to commit genocide over it, but it’s okay because his genocide is going to be so big it’s going to end all genocides. Until Floch remembers he has a gun, probably. Which seems to be always. In which case this genocide will lead to a series of smaller genocides, eventually leading to not enough people being alive for genocide to be committed.

Curing the world of genocide once and for all.

Yay.

.

What I’m saying is that genocide is bad.

Full stop.

Genocide is bad.

-draws underlines-

-draws angry grrr face-

Bad.

Perhaps maybe these people should stop doing it.

For all the moral reasons, sure, but since we’re clearly beyond that point, maybe someone could just quietly suggest with the force of the world ending that maybe imitating the exact behavior that led to literally all of our cast’s problems is not the best move.

Also, Floch shouldn’t get to point a gun at Yelena’s head. Only Yelena gets to hold guns to people’s heads. She makes it cool. Floch makes everyone wonder why Floch still hasn’t died, only to remember that ah, yes, of course people like Floch don’t die.

BUT HEY, AT LEAST THEY KILLED ALL THE TITANS THAT USED TO BE THEIR COMMANDING OFFICERS. I’M SURE THAT’S NOT RELATED TO FLOCH’S GOOD MOOD AT ALL.

You know, it’s not that things are continuing to get worse. They are simply following the roadmap of horror we were handed in the brochure for this arc. None of this is new, it’s just now in play. So it’s not getting worse, it always was worse.

...Yelena, just take the gun and shoot Floch before you die. I feel like that’s the fastest path to something good happening.

Let’s see... points to all our kidlets being a dominant force against titans now. Them Trost Redux feels. Points to Jean realizing that Eren has power of friendshipped himself into villain status (allegedly). Points to Armin remembering how Pixis gave the humans of Paradis their first victory. Points to all of Sasha’s family because I like them.

Then that’s the chapter.

HOW YOU FEELING, ANNIE FANS?

[city-writes]

Wildfire

So baby tell me where you wanna run, run. You’ve got me burnin’ like the morning sun. Take my hand, you can burn this city with me.

Warnings: OCs (Matt’s Bandmates;  Post-Canon/Not Epilogue Compliant Pairings: Matt/Taichi (Yamachi or Taito or Taiyama, whichever you prefer as their ship name)

Read it here on AO3! Commission info!

Ok, so admittedly their relationship was a bit dysfunctional. And perhaps Hikari and Takeru called them dating before it actually happened. And perhaps he and Tai tended to butt heads more than most couples. But even this was abnormal for the two of them.

Taichi hadn’t spoken a word to Matt since their walk back to the blond’s apartment. (Though argueably, one could say it was practically their apartment, since Taichi slept there more than at his family’s apartment.) The silence was awkward and suffocating, and Matt couldn’t help but wrack his brain as he tried to figure out why Taichi was noticeably upset. He hadn’t forgotten any sort of significant date to his knowledge. In fact… Taichi had been perfectly fine before his band’s concert. Had something happened while he was on stage?

As Matt unlocked the door, the two young men shuffled in, Matt placing his guitar case against the couch. He watched as Tai wordlessly went to the kitchen, and began heating up some leftovers from the fridge. That singular action was enough to get Matt to frown, his eyes squinting slightly. Matt usually made dinner for both of them whenever Tai came back with him to his place. Those leftovers were usually the soccer captain's meal after practice... Why would Tai be heating his leftovers up now, unless...?

Was Taichi upset with him?

What the hell had he done? Matt replayed the night's events over in his head, trying to make sure he hadn't accidentally done something off-handedly to have upset his boyfriend. He didn't miss any sort of anniversary, they'd only been dating a couple of months. It wasn't anywhere close to Taichi's birthday. So what was the issue?

Matt must have had some sort of look on his face, because Tai glanced over at him and frowned slightly. "What's with you?"

There was a tinge of irritation in Taichi's voice, one that kinda got on Matt's nerves, but he suppressed the urge to snap at his boyfriend and exhaled through his nose before replying. "Nothing, I just... Is everything ok?"

Tai's eyes narrowed slightly at that, before the brunet rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the microwave. "I'm fine." The curt tone to his voice said otherwise.

Matt frowned and folded his arms. "Obviously not."

Taichi clicked his tongue and spun back around, the soccer captain still frowning. "Well, what do you want me to say?"

"The truth, maybe?" Matt asked, his voice raising slightly at the end of his sentence, Taichi's sudden attitude beginning to work his nerves further. "Did something happen during the concert?"

"No, nothing happened, everything's fine." Tai deadpanned, turning slightly to open the microwave as the timer hit zero, pulling out the food. Though instead of digging into it immediately like he had a habit of doing, he placed it on the counter, turning his attention back to Matt.

Matt was doing his best to keep his cool, and folded his arms. "I can't do anything about it if you don't explain what the fuck is wrong."

"Look, let's just drop it, ok?" Taichi mirrored Matt, folding his arms as well. "You couldn't do anything about it even if I told you."

"Or maybe I could if you gave me the chance!" Matt threw his arms down, losing his composure. "Tai, just tell me what's wrong."

There was a silence then that settled between them, one that irritated Matt further. It wasn't until Taichi spoke that the silence was shattered. “It's just... Like, we’re together, you know? Its weird hearing you sing to all these girls about how much you’d love them if they were yours and other clichéd bullshit.” There was a sharpness to Taichi’s words at the end of his sentence, bitterness evident.

“Well its not like I’m actively trying to dump you for some random girl, Tai!”

“You don’t ignore them when they flirt with you, though!”

“It’s called not being a rude asshole! I’m not flirting with them back; I’m dating you! You don’t see me getting all anal about the girls checking you out while you’re at a game!”

"At least I don't give them the time of day, Yamato."

Matt seethed slightly at his name being used by Taichi. Tai rarely, if ever, used his real name. 'Yamato' was used mainly by his mother, who refused to call him 'Matt', or by Takeru when his younger brother teased him. But Taichi? Taichi reserved it only for really emotional occasions. So exactly how pissed was he?

Giving a slight growl, Matt curled his hands into fists and shook his head. "Well what the fuck do you want me to do, Taichi?" Two could play at the formal name game. "Alienate the people literally paying my rent?" The band was his main source of income, playing gigs and selling tickets. "I can't just ignore them cuz you're jealous!"

"Jealous?" Tai asked incredulously. "I'm not jealous, I'm annoyed!" A hand rose to pinch the bridge of his nose, Tai shaking his head. "You know what? I don't want to have this conversation. I'm staying at my parents' place tonight." With that, Tai stormed out of the kitchen, pushing his way past Matt, who scoffed at being partially shoved.

"Fine! See if I care!" Matt called out, not moving from his spot, or turning to watch as Tai put on his shoes and left, slamming the front door shut.

Matt stood in place for a few seconds after Tai had left, only to sigh and deflate, folding one arm and raising his other up so that he could wipe at his face. Holding his head in his hand, Matt shook his head.

Goddammit.

_________________________________

Hikari looked down at her phone upon hearing it buzz, and stole a quick glance behind her, seeing her older brother asleep on his half of the bunk bed. Giving a small sigh of relief, she quickly flipped it open to see who texted her.

Takeru: how is he?

Hikari quietly got up from the desk in her's and Tai's shared bedroom, and made her way into the living room, before tapping away at her phone's keypad.

Hikari: Asleep. Still hasn't talked about it. Hikari: What about Matt?

Sitting on the couch, Hikari sighed as she waited for her best friend to text back, beginning to channel surf. Her parents were at work, so it was just her and her brother in the apartment at the moment. Tai had just come back from soccer practice about 30 minutes earlier, and said he'd shower after a quick nap. He'd come home three nights ago in an upset mood, and all Hikari could deduce was that he and Matt had had another arguement, but that this one was bigger than usual.

Usually the two were quick to make up, Tai usually only staying at their parents for a day. Three days was unheard of.

Hearing her phone buzz again, Hikari looked to her phone and picked it up off of her lap, reading Takeru's texts.

Takeru: hasn't said much Takeru: but he's been playing his guitar and writing nonstop Takeru: lemme see if i can get it out of him now

Hikari smiled slightly at that, knowing Takeru planned on either being genuine with his brother, or purposefully annoying the ever-living crap out of him. There was no in between when it came to Takeru's technique on getting info out of Matt. Hikari herself took a more reserved approach with Tai, letting him come to her instead when he was ready.

About 10 minutes passed before her phone went off again, and Hikari continued to read.

Takeru: ok SO Takeru: apparently they fought over Matt's songs? Takeru: they've all been romance songs recently and that apparently irritated Tai Takeru: apparently they argued about girls who go to Matt's concerts and flirt w/ him Takeru: so Matt compared it to girls flirting w/ him at soccer games and it all went downhill from there

Hikari: Why are they like this. Why.

Takeru: because they're idiots

Hikari: Too true.

With another sigh, Hikari closed her phone and looked towards hers and Tai's bedroom door. Tai was still sleeping, and she debated on whether or not to wake him up so he could shower, when a thought hit her. She flipped her phone back open and began tapping away again.

Hikari: Hey. You said Matt's writing a new song?

Takeru: i mean, i can only assume

Hikari: Go investigate for me.

After about 5 minutes, she finally got a text back.

Takeru: yeah, its a new song Takeru: bring Tai to Matt's gig tonight Takeru: like, whatever it takes

______________________________

Matt's concert was absolute last place the soccer captain wanted to be right now.

But Hikari had practically dragged him there, saying that he absolutely had to go. When questioned why however, she'd either ignore him or change the subject, which admittedly got on Tai's nerves. But before he knew it, they were at the venue, and were headed inside.

They found a place in the middle of the pack to stand, Tai not wanting to go any further than that so that he didn't get seen by Matt. At first, Hikari tried to convince him to go forward, but when he seemed to stay anchored put, she gave in and let her brother do as he wanted. It wasn't long before Matt and his bandmates came onto stage, Tai wincing at the number of girls shrieking and throwing their hands up.

The sound of Matt's amused laughter coming through the microphone was both easing and irritating. On one hand, Tai hadn't heard his boyfriend's voice in three days, and damn did he miss the sound of it, but on the other hand, he sounded like he was pleased with the shrieking girls and that didn't help his case at the moment one bit.

With a sigh, Tai frowned and stood in place, listening as Matt greeted everyone for coming out to see the show. He promised them a good time, as well as a new song at the end of their set.

The concert soon started and went on like all of Matt's other concerts that Tai attended, though with a surprising lack of love songs, Tai noticed. In fact, there wasn't a single one. It was all Matt's band's more pop-ish music. This eased Tai's mood some, and before he knew it, the band was on their last song. Was this what Hikari wanted him to see? Matt was apologizing through his band by not playing any love songs?

"This last song is dedicated to someone special," Matt said into the microphone, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes as he gazed along the front row of concert-goers, a small smile on his face. "They know who they are."

The music that begun to play was gentle, but still had that cutting pop edge sound, a synth sounding keyboard playing the first couple of measures before the bass, drums, and guitar joined in, and Matt began to sing. As the blonde’s melodic voice reached his ears, Tai huffed and folded his arms, his cheeks puffing slightly as he pouted. Great. It was a fucking love song.

“We were going way too fast, chasing down the hourglass, running from the past, headed out with no direction.

A Kerosene beauty scene, looking for a matchstick king, to burn into your heart, hand into the flame, We could set the world ablaze.

Cuz baby, you’re all I need. Come now, set me free Like a wildfire, like a wildfire.”

Admittedly, the tune was catchy, and Tai was beginning to find it difficult to keep stewing in his anger. Hikari looked at her brother from the corner of her eyes and smiled as she watched her older brother’s expression soften from his pouty state. She too was finding herself being lost in the strangely soothing synth beat, and couldn’t help beginning to sway slightly from side to side, as had much of the crowd.

“Breathless, I can’t resist Melt with your scarlet kiss Like a wildfire, like a wildfire.”

Tai cracked a smirk at that, his mind’s eye reliving a recent makeout session between him and Matt, before he pulled himself out of his thoughts. No, he was going to stay mad at Matt and his stupid love songs, and that was final. And just to stick it to him, he was going to stay extra mad at this stupid love song. This stupid. slow, catchy...hypnotic...--! Wait no, he wasn’t going to fall for this.

“I look into your sunset eyes, waiting for the moon to rise, so I can feel your heat, this love is so completely crazy.

You’ve been fuckin’ with my dreams, Rip me like your torn up jeans, I don’t even care, you could take me there, you could set my world ablaze,

Cuz baby, you’re all I need. Come now, set me free Like a wildfire, like a wildfire.”

Now Tai was starting to get angry all over again. Was Matt that pissy about their whole argument, that this new stupid love song was basically him talking about… about lusting after random girls!? Tai’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching into his jacket sleeves. If he hadn’t been pissed at the blonde before, oh man, he definitely would have been now.

Tai was already thinking of what he was going to yell at his stupid musician of a possibly ex-boyfriend, when he felt Hikari’s hand on his arm. She had a frown on her face - what was she even frowning at him for, he hadn’t done anything - and gave him a questioning look. He shook his head at her in response, turning his attention back to Matt and his band’s song.

So baby tell me where you wanna run, run. You’ve got me burnin’ like the morning sun. Take my hand, you can burn this city with me.

Play me like your first guitar, Where every single note’s too hard, I don’t even care, you can take me there, You can set my world on fire.

Baby, you’re all I need. Come now, set me free Like a wildfire, like a wildfire.

Taichi was done. He scoffed and turned on his heel, beginning to head out as the song came to a close, not wanting to be here when it was all over.

Breathless, I can’t resist Melt with your scarlet kiss Like a wildfire, like a wildfire

Hikari followed after her brother as he pushed past the concert-goers, leaving the venue as she called him down. "Tai. Tai...!" She sighed as she finally caught up to him, pulling on his sleeve. "Tai!"

"I don't see why you brought me here!" Tai growled, looking down at his sister. "What was the point?"

Hikari blinked. Did... did he not realize...? "What's your problem?"

Tai threw his hands down, "I'm just tired of him singing about other girls!"

“What made you think he was talking about a girl?”

“He said so!”

“When?”

Tai opened his mouth to argue because was she not even listening to the song but as he replayed the lyrics in his head, he couldn’t recall a single instance of Matt’s band’s last song mentioning a girl. Awkwardly, Tai closed his mouth with a grunt, and pouted. “Well if the song isn’t about a girl, then who...?” He looked at Hikari then, taken slightly aback by the look she was giving him, like she was expecting something of him.

Hikari’s arms were folded, and her expectant look slowly melting into an amused smirk. “I don’t know Tai, who else would Matt want to be singing to?”

She watched as the gears turned in her brother’s head, and it finally clicked into place with a near silent “Oh.” that the song was about him. She barely had time to offer a goodbye as Tai suddenly darted for backstage.

____________________________________

Tai burst into the backstage area where he saw the keyboardist and lead guitarist of Matt’s band putting away some of their equipment. Raising a hand to wave, he called out to them. “Hey!”

The guitarist, a girl with long black hair tied up into a wild ponytail, looked over at him and smiled, tucking the cords she’d been carrying under one arm so she could wave back. “Hey yourself!” The keyboardist rolled his eyes and grabbed the cords from her as Tai reached them.

“Sorry,” He asked, panting slightly. “Have you seen Matt?”

The guitarist smirked, folding her arms. “He split as soon as the set ended, and wasn’t in the greatest of moods. I don’t think he’d appreciate us sending fanboys his way.”

Tai blinked. “F-Fanboy?” His face warmed at that, and he shook his head. “N-No, I’m a friend of his.”

The guitarist laughed and waved a hand dismissively. “I know, I know, I was just messing with you. I’m Aiko, and Mozart over here,” she said, nodding over at the keyboardist, “is Yuuto. You’re Taichi Yagami, right?”

“Who?” Yuuto finally spoke up, frowning slightly as Aiko smiled.

“Our school’s soccer captain.” She said, then with a purposely not-too-subtle whisper, her smile turned coy, “I think he’s the boyfriend.”

At that, Tai blinked. “He told you about us?”

A laugh left Aiko’s lips, one Tai couldn’t help but mentally compare to windchimes. “No, not exactly. We knew he was dating someone, cuz we noticed he’d get that same lovestruck look on his face when he looked at his phone that he used to get back when he’d first started dating Sora. When we started messing with him, he let it slip that it was a dude, and immediately freaked. We were all cool with it though.” She gave a genuine smile, then. “He never said who it was, but we’ve had our guesses. Who’d’ve known he’d land himself such a cute dude?”

A blush blossomed on Tai’s face at her words, unsure what to say at Aiko’s bluntness. “Uh, thanks?”

Aiko flashed him a wide grin. “No problem! Matt’s probably left by now, we’re just here because it’s our turn to pack extra crap up. If you hurry, you can probably catch him before he gets back to his place.”

“Really?” Tai looked around for the nearest exit, lighting up and already heading out before looking over his shoulder without stopping and giving Aiko and Yuuto a wave. “Thanks a bunch!” With that, Tai raced out of the building, leaving the duo alone.

“So?” Aiko asked with a smile as she lifted up two mini amps with ease. “Whaddya think, Yuuto?”

“Of what?”

“Of Yagami, for Ishida.”

Yuuto stopped then, shaking his head. “You really need to butt out of Matt’s love life.”

“I will now that I’ve met the dude!” She promised, but Yuuto couldn’t help but feel her promise was empty. “What do you think of him?”

With a sigh, Yuuto went back to work, placing various cords where they belonged. “He seems nice enough, if not a little air-headed.”

“That’s good,” Aiko stated, grinning proudly. “He’s a good match for our idiot, then.”

__________________________________

Having finally made it back to his apartment, Matt was ready to just crash for the night, too tired to do much of anything else, when he was greeted with furious sounding knocking at his door. With a sigh, Matt headed to the door, only to be greeted by his boyfriend, panting for god only knew what reason.

Was Tai still pissed at him, even after the song? With a scoff, Matt spoke. “What’s your prob--”

Matt found himself pushed up against the wall, Tai’s lips mashed harshly into his as the soccer captain kissed him heatedly. Matt heard the sound of his front door closing and locking, and instinctively, his hands worked to get Tai’s jacket off of him. A moan escaped one of them - maybe both of them for all Matt knew because holy shit - and the two pulled apart only when their lungs burned with the annoying need for air.

Letting loose a breathy chuckle, Matt looked at Tai. “I guess this means I’m forgiven?”

Tai rolled his eyes, murmuring against Matt’s lips as he leaned in to kiss him again, “Oh, shut up.”

[the-beastslayers-queen]

A Dangerous Game: Chapter 8

Chapter 8 is here! This is a bit long, but I needed it to be. Tagging: @queenofthearchitect @biforbecky2belts @writtingrose @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @jeffhardyenigmawwefan @mox-made-me-do-it @sassyspacedust @afauss2009 @calwitch @theworldofotps @sammyfireheartashryver @romans-babygirl-wwe and @romansrgn Sorry for those that are new to this tag list, I’ve decide to make my tag list universal for the sake of my sanity. I will be making a masterlist for this one tomorrow. Also, if you want to be added to my tag list, hit my ask box. Enjoy!

After spending most of our day unpacking our things and then making out on every available surface of his house, Seth and I ended up sound asleep on the couch, exhausted and left the TV on from binging a random show we found on Netflix. I woke up find Seth was still sound asleep, but thankfully he wasn’t holding me down to him. I decided to get off of him carefully, not waking him up, and walked over to the kitchen. I stopped along the way and slipped on Seth’s discarded shirt. I went over to the fridge and got out the supplies to make us scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast before getting out some bread to make toast.

“I like you in my shirts,” Seth came up behind as I was frying up the bacon, wrapping his arms around my waist, “You look so much better in them than I do. And you’re making breakfast, you spoil me.”

“I try,” I smirked before I turned and kissed him on his cheek, “Would you mind helping me out and getting the toast started?”

“Sure,” Seth moved over and got to work popping the bread slices into the toaster, “So are you willing to go meet my mom today? I think we can swing by her house before we go pawn off that damn ring. After that, we should look into getting jobs that can pay us under the table or have you fudge us backgrounds to get something legit.”

“I can see about looking into setting up fake backgrounds for us,” I replied, “And I’m kinda excited to meet your mom. I’m sure she has embarrassing pictures of you as a baby.”

“Please don’t make my mom bring those out,” Seth groaned and rolled his eyes, “I have a rep to protect. I’m a damn badass hacker and I want to keep it that way.”

“I can see through that already, babe,” I laughed wholeheartedly, “You’re a big softy around me. I will not let you live it down once we’re done with burying McIntyre and his whole crew.”

“Only when it’s just us,” Seth warned, “Or I’ll ruin your rep of being a sarcastic, unapologetic hacker that will kill when she pleases. Because I know how much you dislike violence you poetic softy.”

“Damn it you got me,” I snickered as I plated up our food, “Now let’s eat up.”

Finn

It’s been four months since Cat ran out of town with Seth. Drew has been coming to my house every other day, checking in to see when she’d come back. I had lied to Drew and told him that she was on a long term heist job, going in very deep and not being anywhere near Orlando. So far he’s been buying it. Or so I thought. Drew’s been getting restless as of late, get very upset with me whenever I tell him I haven’t heard from Cat.

Which has been true. Ever since Cat left, she hasn’t called or texted me. Hell, she hasn’t even sent me a message on the encrypted messenger we use to stay in touch within the Club. But I wasn’t the only one worried about the radio silence from the lovebirds caused when they left town. Hunter and his wife Stephanie were worried sick over Seth. I guess he was never one to do something like this on impulse. He was always so careful and calculating. No wonder he’s known as The Architect, the man plans out everything and makes plans for every scenario and outcome.

“Bálor,” Drew shouted as he barged into Bullet Club while I was busy with the pre-opening duties, “I have had it with the games! Where is my fiancée?”

“I’ve told ya time and time again, mate,” I pinched the bridge of my nose, “I have no idea where Cat went. If I knew, I’d have to ask her if she’d want me to tell you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Bálor,” Drew asked.

“I know that you raped my sister,” I got up in his face, “And I know that it wasn’t just you. I also know my sister was beaten pretty badly from the ordeal. I’m about to pull out of this arrangement with you. I don’t tolerate men that rape and beat women, especially when it happens to my sister.”

Drew punched me right in the jaw and I swung right back. We traded blow for blow until Corbin and Gallows separated us from each other. I had a bloodied nose and lip but Drew had a split lip and a broken nose.

“You’re going to regret this, Bálor,” he boomed in anger, “I will have your sister. I will find her.”

Drew stormed out of the club and Gallows finally let me go. I looked over at him and Anderson. Just from the looks on their faces I knew this was the spark to call for war. Cat and Seth were in danger. I had no doubt Drew would send out all his enforcers and hitmen out to try to find them.

“We should warn her babe,” Anderson spoke up at last, “She has to know he’ll come for her and take her away from Rollins. Worst case scenario, Seth will die trying to keep her from him and that will destroy her.”

“You’re right Karl,” I sighed and pressed the damp towel Becky handed to me for my nose to my face, “We have to send her a message tonight. Hopefully she’ll get it in time and try to be careful.”

“If she’s already married to Seth, McIntyre might try to kill them both,” Becky looked so concerned for Cat, and they’re so close like sisters since Cat joined the Bálor Club, “We should warn Hunter too. See if he can get in touch with Seth so we can send people out to protect them from McIntyre and his crew.”

“We can try,” I told her, “We should send AJ with Ricochet and Aleister to meet with Hunter to let him know what’s going on.”

Cat

I was coming in the door from work. Seth and I were lucky enough to get jobs that were willing to pay us under the table. Seth found work at a mechanic shop and I got work at a computer repair shop to build and repair computers. I get paid by commission so I’ve been able to make a lot of money to help us stay afloat while we hide out here.

But the weirdest thing is that I’ve now been two weeks late for my period. I mean I knew the risk of making like rabbits with Seth all over the house. I mean he can’t keep his hands off me and I’m the same with him. Since Seth was going to be at work for a couple more hours, I decided to stop at the drug store on the way home to get a couple tests.

As I waited for the timer on my phone to go off for my tests, I got to work doing some chores around the house. I knew Seth would need his laundry done so he’d have clothes tomorrow for work. So as I was lost in my thoughts, treating his shirts with dawn to get the grease stains out, my phone went off, signaling it was time to check the tests.

I set Seth’s clothes aside and I went to our bathroom to check the tests. I just about fainted at seeing the results.

Positive.

Pregnant.

+

How the fuck was I going to tell Seth he was going to be a dad? Should I risk being found to tell Finn he’s going to be an uncle? Do I risk everything and go with Seth to Bray to tell my parents?

I was curled up on the couch, the TV was on for background noise, when I heard the front door open I tilted my head to find Seth shrugging off his jacket and tossing his keys into the bowl on the table by the door. He kicked off his shoes and rubbed his face before coming over to me and kissing my forehead.

“Hey babe,” Seth hummed as he came around the couch, “How was your day? You look tired. Do you want me to make dinner tonight?”

“That would be nice,” I hummed as I curled up into his side as he got comfortable on the couch with me, “So I’ve noticed that I’m late for my period.”

“How late are we talking,” Seth asked, concern etched on his face.

“Two and a half weeks,” I replied before taking a deep breath, “I went to the drugstore on my way home from work and picked up a few tests. I wanted to be sure.”

I got up from my seat on the couch and went into the bathroom to grab the tests. I returned to the living room and stood before Seth. I took a deep breath before I spoke.

“Hold out your hand,” I told him.

“Okay,” he replied and held out his hand. I put the tests into his hand. I waited on baited breath for his reaction. His face was blank before it twisted up in confusion. But then he started to smirk.

“Seth,” I asked hesitantly, “Are you going to say anything?”

“We’re going to be parents,” he looked up at me before setting the tests down on the coffee table, “You’re pregnant? I thought we were being so careful. Babe, I’m really happy for us, but I’m scared too.”

“How do you think I feel,” I looked at him as he rose from his seat and closed the distance between us before pulling me into his chest, “I’m terrified. What if Drew finds us? What if Drew takes me away and I lose the baby trying to fight him off. Or worse, what if he takes me and makes me marry him, and then forces me to raise our son thinking it was his all along when that isn’t true?”

“Hey calm down,” Seth hushed me and kissed my hair before running his fingers through it, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you or our baby. We’re going to figure this all out okay. We’ve kept a low profile so far. We’ve not reached out to our families since we took off and we’ve used nothing but cash to pay for anything. For now, we’re going to play it out by ear. First thing first is to get you into a doctor’s office to be checked.”

“Which is the issue,” I replied, “We don’t have insurance to see a doctor and Shawn is in Orlando. I don’t know of anyone up here that could check me out without having insurance.”

“I know someone,” Seth kissed my forehead, “I’ll give him a call and set it all up.”

Seth was taking me today to my first appointment to the doctor he knew out here that could take care of me without having insurance. I was so nervous about this whole thing. I’m so young and I don’t know what it’s like to be a mother. I never got to meet my birth parents. They left me in the care of the system, choosing to abandon me instead of raising me themselves. Sure if they had kept me, I never would have had Finn as my brother. So I guess it all worked out in the end. I was also still on the fence about telling Finn I was pregnant. I’m sure Finn would ask where we were hiding to send up Gallows and Anderson to protect us, but that could draw unwanted attention and tip off McIntyre.

“I think we should tell Finn,” Seth said as we were on our drive to the doctor, “He has a right to know. We can do a video chat with him in the local library while we run a VPN to ping our location all over the country so Drew can’t have Alexa trace the connection.”

“That could work,” I replied, “But we should do it after the appointment.”

Once we got into the doc’s office, I was shaking like a leaf as Seth held my hand. I was so nervous and afraid of this whole thing. The timing of me getting pregnant was horrible. I mean Seth hasn’t married me yet. We just have the new ring he bought me the second day we were here. It was a beautiful ring compared to Drew’s. Seth picked out a beautiful India cut, deep blue sapphire in a white gold setting surrounded by small diamonds. We weren’t rushing getting married because we wanted to save up our cash to buy me a dress before we’d elope.

“Catherine,” the nurse called my fake name, “The doctor is ready to see you now.”

Seth and I got up and followed her back into an exam room. She took all my vitals before leaving the room to go get the doctor. Seth held my hand as we waited for the doc to come and check me out and perform the first ultrasound. I was so freaked out by all of this, I wasn’t able to enjoy this at all.

“Relax, Cat,” Seth cooed as he rubbed my back, “Everything is going to work out. This all happened for a reason. When we get done here, we’ll do some serious work to get married okay. And then Drew can’t touch you or take you from me, okay. We’re going to be a family and we’re going to make the bonds between the Authority and the Bálor Club.

“Catherine,” The doc poked his head into the room before walking all the way in and closed the door behind him, “Or should I say Catriona Bálor?”

“How the hell,” I was confused.

“It’s good to see you Seth,” the doc greeted Seth, “I’m Dr. Jacobs. I’m a friend of Seth’s from back before his Authority days. That’s why he brought you to my office. I’m a legit doctor willing to take care of the criminal elite on the side and off the books. I’ll take care of your pregnancy care free of charge as a favor for Seth. I owed him from the last time he was up here.”

“Thank you,” I replied, feeling much better about this whole thing.

Jacobs got to work on doing a physical on me, getting reading on my health before he got the ultrasound ready. Since I was so early, I had to have the vaginal ultrasound. I got changed and prepped for the procedure and laid back on the exam table as Jacobs got to work on firing up the machine. It was weird to have the wand put into me, but I adjusted. Jacobs turned on the speakers on the machine and I heard our baby’s heartbeat for the first time, and I started to cry.

“That is one strong heartbeat,” Jacobs commented, “This is a very good sign. I will get you prints of these early images and I’ll set you up with my recommendation for prenatal vitamins and supplements. I want to see you back in my office in a couple weeks so I can see how you’re progressing. And I will keep your presence up here secret. I’ll take it to my grave.”

“Thanks Jimmy,” Seth hugged Jacobs, “I owe you one for this. I’ll make sure to donate to your low-income clinic once I’m back in Orlando and in the free and clear.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Jacobs replied, “Take good care of her and call me if you need anything.”

[sleemo]

Stardust

[ Translated from Spanish to English by @sleemo and @nightblossoms-and-spinebarrels ]

Two years after ‘The Force Awakens’, the Imperial March plays again. The galactic saga returns to the big screen with ‘Star Wars: The Last Jedi’, a movie that promises to be quite unique. Director Rian Johnson and his protagonists tell us what this new stellar adventure will have for us, at least as far as Kathleen Kennedy allows them.

— Cinemanía | December 2017 - Janire Zurbano

“I don’t want Disney princesses, I want Leia,” said the little Rey in costume who was standing in front of me in one of the booths for Funko Pop figures in D23. Now that the success of the saga is measured in mind-blowing figures, the Disney convention has become a coming and going of Gamoras, Méridas and Thors, carrying bags full of Funkos. 

“Before, the fans used to tell me how they met their wives because of Star Wars and now they show me the toys they’ve bought for their children,” Mark Hamill tells us. We met with the director and part of the cast of Star Wars: The Last Jedi after the hangover of D23. “I appreciate all this as I never would have been able to at 20. People ask me: ‘Doesn’t it bother you to be remembered for a single movie role?’ I never expected to be remembered for anything. And now someone has a doll with my face!”, adds the actor.

In all honesty, the merchandise for Star Wars: The Last Jedi has given us more clues about the future of the saga than any trailer or official photo of this new release. In February, a toy box made all the galactic alarms go off by showing an image of Rey with what looked like a padawan’s hairstyle. She just needed to say: “I am your Jedi apprentice”. “I cannot talk about that,” laughs Daisy Ridley.

Everything is kept under wraps in the mysterious universe commanded by Kathleen Kennedy, as the cast well knows. “At the beginning of rehearsals, we didn’t know the plot. I remember being with Mark, making conjectures all the time,” says Ridley. “We could not take the script outside Pinewood Studios,” recalls John Boyega. The newcomers also did not get any special treatment. “That room in Pinewood was like a cave,” says Kelly Marie Tran, to which Benicio del Toro adds with laughter: “I read the script with a timer.” It is not surprising that the Puerto Rican actor speaks cautiously about the film: “Star Wars was the first science fiction film that I felt was mine. I don’t want to be the first to ruin something for the fans.” Without Funkos to dissect and now that Kennedy can’t hear us, let's put them to the test.

New King of the Galaxy

It’s been two years since J. J. Abrams expanded the universe created by George Lucas, this time for Disney. The Force Awakens revived the essence of the original trilogy, far from that attempt to renew the prequels. Many specifically criticized that it was a copy of A New Hope. However, what struck Mark Hamill was something else: “Twice a week, for 50 weeks, I was tortured. They called it physical training. I even did a diet of ‘If it tastes good, don’t eat it’. I lost 20 kilos! Then I discovered that I only appeared for a few seconds at the end looking like a grumpy neighbor.”

Now, to Hamill's good fortune, Abrams has handed over the controls of the Millennium Falcon to Rian Johnson. “I remember asking J.J. if it felt like when, in a divorce, your children go to live with the new cool guy. He told me that it was fine with him but I know he thought: ‘I’m going to miss them,’” says Boyega. The creator of Lost will return to lead Episode IX, but before that Johnson will have to prove if The Last Jedi, which promises shocking revelations, is as “unique” as the cast assures. For now, it will be the longest film in the series, with two and a half hours. But will it be up to the much acclaimed The Empire Strikes Back?

“No comparisons,” Hamill says: “This movie is different from the others in Star Wars thanks to Rian. If it had not been for him, I would have dreaded coming back... I wasn’t sure I wanted to be part of the new trilogy. I thought Harrison Ford wouldn’t come back, he was my savior. But then he accepted and I felt trapped. Since I was the only one who wasn’t here, I would’ve been the most hated.”

The Return of the Jedi

“The Last Jedi starts right where we left The Force Awakens,” Ridley tells us, something unheard of in the saga. We will reunite with Rey the scavenger delivering the lightsaber to Luke Skywalker in Ach-To, after having spent the previous film on his trail. “I don’t remember what Luke says when he takes the saber, but he should have said, ‘That came with one hand, did you bring it too?’, jokes Hamill. 

“Rey must accept that she has power and begin to show her potential,” explains Johnson. She and Darth Vader's son will be the focus of the film, although for now nobody dares to say whether the last Jedi master will train the young woman in the art of the Force. It is as if every time a journalist mentioned the word “Jedi”, a fairy died. “Jedi training? That remains to be seen,” says Ridley sounding mysterious, and adds: “In The Force Awakens, Rey was out of control, but now she will learn from Luke and from herself. She will experience growth.”

Her friend, John Boyega, insists on the novelty of the project: “Rian has done something very different. We wanted Finn to have an identity, like Han Solo or Leia. He supported Rey and the Resistance in Episode VII, but now he must decide if he is willing to fight a battle that is not his. His relationship with Rey and now with Rose Tico [Kelly Marie Tran] will push him into action.” The stormtrooper who deserted the First Order will thus find a new ally in this Resistance mechanic. According to Tran, she is “a nobody” that will star in “several fun moments” with Finn.

And what awaits us in the Dark Side? “Kylo Ren (Adam Driver) is as important as Rey in this new film,” says Johnson. After killing dad Han Solo, the pupil of Supreme Leader Snoke (Andy Serkis) will threaten the Galaxy again, with a new ship like that of his grandfather Anakin. Another who will be back, to Finn's disgrace, will be his former superior in the First Order, Captain Phasma. “I cannot confirm if her face will be seen, but we will learn more about her and she will leave an impression,” says Gwendoline Christie.

DJ, the hacker who Benicio del Toro gives life to, is one of the great mysteries of the film. Will he brandish a lightsaber? “No”, says Del Toro. And does he look like some other character in the saga? “He has elements of Boba Fett, maybe Jabba the Hutt,” the actor replies. According to Boyega (official spokesperson of the Galaxy), DJ resides in the casino planet of Canto Bight, where Finn and Rose Tico will go looking for him because “they need a codebreaker and he is the best”. 

“The interesting thing was being able to propose things to Rian and that he was open to my suggestions, even if they changed the story,” Del Toro assures us. Another fundamental issue for the Puerto Rican is the diversity that exists in the saga: “I saw that Oscar Isaac joined Episode VII, and that Diego Luna appeared in Rogue One, and I thought: ‘They already have two Latinos, I don’t think they need three’, but they called me. It's also great that there are women in leading roles.”

The Girls Are Warriors

And speaking of women... Leia Organa (Carrie Fisher), princess-turned-general, marked a before and after between the heroines of the cinema of the 70s, a legacy that the saga has continued to reinforce. “They told me that a child wanted to run like Rey because, apparently, she is running the way she should,” Ridley recalls, adding: “The reaction of many parents made me realize what Rey means to them. They told me: ‘My daughter has something to wear now that isn’t sexualized.’” The actress is aware of how much Star Wars does for the empowerment of women, although she believes that “as long as we keep talking about it, there will be work to be done. If there was equality, we wouldn’t be repeating that Wonder Woman is starring and directed by women.”

For Gwendoline Christie, this "feminist” aspect of the saga is fundamental: “We live in a patriarchal society, so being able to play the leader of an army is a luxury. Kathleen Kennedy showed me the results that appear when you google ‘female heroines’: many women with barely any clothes.” 

The actress still remembers the impact Princess Leia had on her: “I was six years old and seeing that Leia was smart, funny and did not look like other female characters made me question how women are portrayed in movies. I hope Captain Phasma will also help change the concept of femininity.” In addition to Rey, Captain Phasma and Rose Tico, Episode VIII will feature Amilyn Holdo (Laura Dern), Vice Admiral of the Resistance.

Goodbye Princess Goodbye

Among all the star warriors of Star Wars, General Leia continues to shine more than any other. Outside of the screens, with no Skywalker brawls involved, the cast makes for much closer family: “Mark is the father. Adam is the serious one, but he has a great sense of humor. Oscar is the charmer, John is the fun one, Carrie is the hilarious one, Benicio the cool, and I'm the one who always sings,” sums up Ridley. 

Therefore, the premiere of this film is a bittersweet experience after the death of Fisher in December 2017. For the British actress, “it is strange to be together again without her”. Little did Johnson imagine that he would direct Carrie Fisher’s last film: “We have a beautiful and very powerful performance from her. We have not changed it.”

The one who gets most excited when talking about the actress is her ‘brother’ Mark Hamill: “I keep missing her. I keep talking about her in the present. Selfishly, I’m so angry. She should be here to share Episode VIII and shoot Episode IX.” The Last Jedi is the farewell to an actress who, 40 years later, continues to make us want to be Leia princesses, not ‘Disney princesses’. The Galaxy will not shine the same without her.

[phaedrecameron]

The Accused, James Fraser Chapter 5 Mens Rea

Claire was startled awake. She felt Frank’s breath on her neck; his hand on her breast. Since learning of Frank’s most recent affair, she’d been sleeping on the sofa in her home office. Frank didn’t seem to mind. He kept late nights. But after her meeting with Fraser, the office was no longer comforting.

Claire wanted to leave, but Geillis, herself twice divorced, warned against rash action.

“Get yerself a good lawyer, get yer finances in order, find a place to stay where he can’t find ye, and get proof,”Geillis had instructed. She even suggested Claire hire a private investigator.

Ultimately, Claire had agreed to stay. She didn’t want Frank to have the upper hand; not ever again. She needed to prepare to leave him. But she’d been busy with work, busy with the Fraser case.

Now Claire could no longer wait.

“Don’t!” Claire spat as she pushed Frank’s hand away and got up from their bed.

“What’s gotten into you?” Frank asked as he sat up.

“I don’t like being awoken for sex.” At least not by you.

“Since when? I’ve been plenty patient, Claire.”

“Patient!? I’ve al..”

“I’m trying to make this work!” Frank cut her off as though she had not spoken. “I’ve given you your space, haven’t I? I agreed to your therapy? Agreed not to ask for your help? Agreed to raise a child not my own? Is that it? You’ve decided adoption? And that’s it. It’s always your way, Claire. You can’t give me anything.”

“How dare you, you goddamn bloody bastard!” Claire’s voice shook with rage. Instinctively, her eyes searched for something to throw at him, finding nothing, her fists curled. “I’ve given up everything for you! I moved to a foreign country for you. I had to take extra classes and exams to become licensed to practice in America. I went to all your boring work functions and humored all your pretentious asshole colleagues!” She closed her eyes, her voice now under control, “it takes two people to make a child and sometimes those people can’t, it isn’t anyone’s fault.”

Frank walked toward their bathroom. He turned to face her. “Don’t play the victim, Claire. I didn’t force you to do any of that. Those are the things you should want to do if you love someone. And you barely did it. You couldn’t be quiet. So what if you had to listen to a few old timers? I needed those people for my work and you embarrassed me every time.”

“I’m not the meek and obedient type!” Claire shot back. “I’m sure Sandy and all the others are more than happy to be doormats for your success.”

“Sandy was there for me when you refused to be. I let her go for you. I asked you to try for a child of our own blood and you even half-assed that.” Frank shut the bathroom door.

Claire removed her wedding ring, got dressed and left.

**************************************************************************************

John Grey was trying not to vomit. He’d been pulling double duty; prepping the Fraser case and actively avoiding his family. The case wasn’t coming together as he’d liked and he felt the telltale sign of a tension headache beginning to form. He’d left his fifth floor office at the Boston Criminal Court Building to retrieve what he hoped would be the cure; caffeine. Once at the first floor cafeteria, Grey had to choose between the lesser of two evils; an espresso macchiato or a cortado. He knew the the barista couldn’t even manage a decent hot cocoa, but he was desperate. He grabbed the cortado and decided a five minute break would do him good. He took a sip and made to sit on one of the cafeteria’s hard plastic chairs.

Christ! Grey thought as the offensively bitter and unbalanced liquid hit his palate. It was all he could do to keep it down. Then he noticed a dribble on his tie. He glared at the barista. He vaguely wondered if his family could begin a community outreach program to train baristas from underprivileged backgrounds. He immediately dismissed the idea as elitist bullshit. And it would require him to speak to Hal.

Grey observed the mass of jurors, attorneys, and witnesses as they scrambled to make the afternoon court sessions. He sighed. John was feeling the pressure. James Fraser had been cleared for trial by Dr. Claire Beauchamp. Her report hadn’t been expected for at least another two weeks and the State’s case was nowhere near ready for a jury. John got a reprieve when Fraser’s next court appearance had been postponed 3 weeks. Fraser had broken several bones in his left hand and the case was delayed while he underwent surgery and started a rehab schedule.

Grey chalked that incident up to reality hitting Fraser square in the face. The State had filed murder charges and a special allegation for use of a knife in the commission of a felony. He was facing life in prison, with no chance of parole.

John’s boss, Harry, had authorized the charges after they were briefed by Detectives Christie and Cinnamon. John remembered Christie explaining that Fraser should “fry.” John’s face soured at the thought. John had a personal dislike of Christie. The man made too many off color comments and was frankly a neanderthal. He was rumored to have been forced to attend sensitivity training on more than one occasion, but he did present well on the stand. John wasn’t familiar with Christie’s new partner, Cinnamon, who was considerably younger. Cinnamon appeared to be around John’s age. He was fit, tall, sexy, and slightly brown- everything Christie wasn’t. John wondered if Cinnamon was part of Christies’ on-going sensitivity training.

John pushed Christie from his mind. He was more worried about his own skill. This would be the biggest case of career. But so far Harry had supported his choices, including Beauchamp for the eval.

“Good, Beauchamp’s good,” Harry had said. Not up for anyone’s bullshit, she’s got that fantastic ass and accent to match.”

Grey had stared at his boss.

“What!” cried Harry. “I’m not dead yet, and you know as well as I do that jurors are more likely to believe good looking people! Besides, that’s why I put you on this case.”

Grey hadn’t known whether to be flattered or offended.

John felt his phone vibrate, but ignored it. He thought of Frasers’s lawyer and felt a twinge just behind his left eye. Fraser was represented by one of the best public defenders in the State, Ned Gowan. But Gowan was a court appointed attorney. “I thought for sure he’d have some fancy uptown lawyer. He’s rich isn’t he?” Harry had asked.

“Yup, but he’s also smart. Ned’s the best homicide defense attorney in the state. I need to bring my A game.” John had countered. But it did give him pause.

Truthfully, there was something off about the entire case. There was no motive. John swirled the black sludge in his cup. Yes, Fraser was caught on CCTV arguing with Laoghaire MacKenzie a few days before her murder. The night of her murder, Fraser lured her to a bar where they were caught, yet again, arguing on CCTV. Fraser then forcibly moved Mackenzie to an alley behind the bar - an area not covered by video surveillance. Within minutes she was dead.

Yet, why? Grey thought. The obvious answer being he was a spurned lover. Fraser stalked and killed her in a jealous rage. That was Christie’s position. But lovers who never spoke? At least not according to their phone records. A lover that none of Laoghaire’s coworkers, friends, and family knew she had? A few weeks before her death, Laoghaire had called the police over loud music from a neighbor’s late night party. Surely, this woman would have told someone she was being stalked?

What the case needed was further investigation.

As John rose to return to his office, he spotted Ned Gowan. John’s phone vibrated again. He had two missed texts and a new one from his boss, Harry.

Gowan started toward John.

Quickly, John opened Harry’s message,

Where the hell are you? Browns here…..get back to the office.

John looked up and saw Gowan had been waylaid by a crying elderly woman. Probably the mother of one of his clients.

John glanced back down at the two missed texts:

From Hal Grey

We need 2 talk, be at Pardloe on Saturday

From Stephan von Namtzen

I’m here. Jetlags a bitch. You call this beer?

John stuffed the phone in his jacket pocket and greeted Gowan.

“Hello, Mr Gowan.”

Gowan extended his hand and laughed. “Please, call me Ned.” Grey was wary. He knew Gowan’s bumbling country lawyer routine was an act. He was ruthless at trial.

Gowan produced a document and handed it to Grey. “I was going to file this at the clerk’s office, but then I saw you, so here it is, hand delivered.” Gowan smiled as Grey read the document.

“You can’t be serious, you read Beauchamp’s report,” Grey stated.

“I did, but this is a separate issue – Fraser’s adding a plea of not guilty by reason of insanity. Of course he’s not guilty, but if he were guilty, he was insane at the time.” Gowan’s smiled faded. “What did you expect given your office’s change in position.”

“What?”John asked, his head beginning to pound.

“Your office is seeking the death penalty.”

[missblanchette]

Rumor Has It [1/10]

Series: Hypnosis Mic

Characters: Izanami Hifumi/Yumeno Gentaro

Rating: T

Summary: Thousands of hearts broke that day. With tears shed and cries resounding to the heavens, each grief-stricken woman wondered how this could possibly happen. In the year 20XX of the H. Era, Matenrou’s MC GIGOLO and Fling Posse’s MC Phantom were officially in a relationship. 

Except they weren’t, actually.

Words: 3,159

Notes: A play on the fake dating trope, in which people think Hifumi and Gentaro are dating... but they’re not --

(but then they do!)

ko-fi // You can read this on AO3! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy! 

( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

Ch. 1: In the Wrong Place to Be

Like most things SNS, Gentaro learned about this particular scandal through Ramuda. That wasn't to say he lived under a rock, but it was simply a fact that Ramuda lived and breathed social networking. So when Gentaro woke up, he wasn't surprised to see three hundred-plus messages in the Fling Posse group chat. Honestly, there were days where there were more and he had half the mind to ignore them. What did surprise him, though, was the influx of notifications he received -- and was currently receiving, given the fourth-rate massage his hand underwent from all the buzzing -- on his Twitter account. Usually, this sort of activity only occurred when he published a new novel (and even then, not at this rate, he regretted to say) but nothing of that sort had happened. Disregarding all that drivel, he opened up Fling Posse's group chat to be met with a barrage of messages calling him out.

Ramuda's next text contained an image and Gentaro's brain took a few seconds to process it before terror crashed onto him like a tidal wave of ice water.

Tapping it, he zoomed in and his blood pressure skyrocketed. There was no denying what it was: though angled from a distance, the subjects of the photo were clearly him and one Izanami Hifumi sitting closely together. By their lonesome at a table and empty champagne glasses littered in front of them, Hifumi's fingertips tilted his head back with an obnoxious grin while Gentaro's hand pressed against his chest; looking closer, his veins nearly popped at how hard he clutched the rose in Hifumi’s breast pocket. Above them, the lights of the club danced off their faces and highlighted the glaring glints in their gazes.

Yet, to anyone else, it looked like anything but.

Heaving a sigh, Gentaro ran a hand through his hair. His phone continued to blow up and dread crept upon him as the realization of what those Twitter notifications were about sank in. He'd made many mistakes before, of which he would admit to no one ever, but last night was probably the worst decision of his life.

No, he’d have to retract that statement. It definitely was the worst decision of his entire existence.

(the night before)

Like any good writer, Gentaro set out to do his research before working on his next novel. This time around, he wanted to play with a more mature theme -- a change to his usual lightheartedness, but ultimately something that'd have a happy ending as well -- and somehow or another, one character was a host. This singular character quickly became a source of frustration, the very thought of them bringing an unwelcome reminder of another host that Gentaro bemoaned to know. But no matter how many other occupations he looked into, no matter how many changes he made to the story, no matter how much he forced the character into another role, a host suited them best. In the end, Gentaro supposed, who was he to deny his works from claiming their own life and so he deigned himself to their existence.

Nonetheless, the bigger issue was that he didn't know much about host clubs and that wouldn't do. His research, unfortunately, led him to Shinjuku but he grit his teeth and bared it. This was about the quality of his work and that far outweighed his pride.

Raised amidst the rhythm of Shibuya, Gentaro was no stranger to bustling crowds and loud lights but Kabukicho's nightlife roared and raved. True to its title of "The Sleepless Town," the neon signs acted as miniature suns and the hordes of people multiplied by the second. With no specific destination in mind, Gentaro followed along the flow of the crowd in search of a host club to observe. As expected, Kabukicho had no shortage of host clubs and within minutes, the young hosts wandering around to accost new clients flocked around him. They all flashed their best smiles and enticed him with flattery but the host that won him over was bright-eyed and plucky, an interesting sense of innocence amongst the red light district. He lead him to TOP DANDY, a “paradise" he called it, and something in Gentaro's stomach twisted. The name sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it and pushed the feeling away.

His gut feeling hit back tenfold, though, as they entered the club and the portraits of TOP DANDY's top hosts for the past month greeted him. Izanami Hifumi's image stared at him, winking with a hand outstretched as if offering to whisk him away. Gentaro readied a lie to the host assisting him, that he realized he was short on cash and couldn't possibly spend the night here, when he noticed that Hifumi's portrait wasn't at the very top of the stairs. For all Hifumi boasted about being Shinjuku's number one host, it seemed that someone had managed to steal the title from him -- at least for the time being. Barely glancing at this month's number one, Gentaro’s lips curved up. He already had a very good idea as to whom his choice of host would be.

For experience's sake, he feigned ignorance at the menu of hosts and went through with the first timer's rotation. With overpriced food and drinks ordered and conversations filled with empty words, Gentaro finally understood the appeal of host clubs. Never had he been one for attention, but each host that came by was a new listener to his tall tales. To one, he was a university student looking for a way to de-stress; to another, he was the son of a well off family and had some extra cash to blow; to the host entertaining him now, he was a sex worker in need of an ear for his woes. They ate his lies up, their sympathy as fake as their suits and smiles. How fascinating, he mused, that they were paid to act as so. Each brush of their hands, each sweet nothing, each hollow compassion sent Gentaro's mind running wild as to what fates befell these men to lead them to this so-called paradise. The notebook in his pocket itched to be written in, but he ignored its call in favor of the moment.

Good-byes were exchanged with his current host as time ran out and the host called for the next one to step up. With a false promise given to see him again soon, Gentaro wondered what his next host would be like -- what kind of persona he would show him and what kind of untruths he himself would hear.

How easy, however, it was to fall into the paradise's trap that he'd just about forgotten the one he dreaded chancing upon.

"Good evening, lovely kitten~" A honeyed voice buzzed annoyingly in his ears and Gentaro's heart dropped. Sauntering over, Izanami Hifumi's piss yellow eyes gave him a once over. "Oh? Do tell, have we met before?"

Sleeve hiding his mouth, Gentaro batted his lashes and pitched his voice higher. "I do not believen I have met someone as roguish as thou before."

Hifumi laughed heartily, a strident noise that pierced the air, as he took a seat next to him. Gentaro's lips twitched.

"Your style and manner of speaking is quite unique, no?" he purred. His eyes flashed dangerously. "It reminds me of someone I know. I don't suppose you're familiar with him, are you?"

"My, my, wheren thou manners? Picken on mine person and interrogating myself like this? Thou art rather rude for a host," Gentaro said, voice light but words sharp.

"Oh, forgive me, dear kitten. How's about a drink to make up for my poor behavior?" Hifumi gestured towards the champagne glasses on the table, a tilt to his head. "Although, if I may be blunt, you're rather rude yourself, no? Won't you let me see your face?"

Gentaro's frown deepened into a scowl, pressing his sleeve closer and peering up at him. "Mayhaps a drink will allowen me to forgive thou."

Hifumi hummed. "Is there any brand you prefer, sweet kitten?"

"Thine cheapest, if thou wilst."

"Ah, a frugal spender, I see. Maybe a host club isn't the best way to spend the night?"

"How I deciden to spend mine nights is mine business."

A wry smile on his face, Hifumi called the help over for a bottle of Café de Paris and poured out a drink for the both of them. With the shimmery, gold liquid sloshing against the clear champagne glasses, Hifumi held one out to him.

"Well, I do believe we got off on the wrong foot tonight, hm? Let's drink and start over, shall we?" Sultry, sweet words he’d spoken, hiding a biting tone underneath them.

Mutely, Gentaro plucked the champagne flute from his hand while trying to avoid as much contact as possible. Ever so briefly, their fingertips touched and a chill ran through.

Raising his glass towards him, Hifumi said, "Why don't we have a toast... oh, I'm sorry, I don't believe I caught your name?"

Lowering his hand enough to get a drink in, Gentaro fluttered his lashes as he held the champagne glass between their faces. Through the ambrosia of wine, Hifumi's features wavered and contorted -- the image akin to a pathetic wolf pup. In a pitch closer to his natural voice, Gentaro said, "Why don't thou take a guess, Izanami Hifumi?" before downing the drink all in one go.

Hifumi watched as he drank, letting out that annoying laugh of his as Gentaro set the glass down on the table with a dull clunk. Chugging his own drink down, Hifumi scrutinized him through lidded eyes.

"I had a feeling it was you, Yumeno-sensei." He drawled out his title, popping open the bottle to refill their glasses. Gentaro resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "What a funny, little game you've played."

"A host club is for the client's entertainment, isn't it? What fun is it if I can't play around with my hosts?" Hifumi handed him his glass and he took it, swigging the wine in circles.

"Very true, my darling Yumeno-sensei." Gentaro willed himself to stay calm at the endearment. "Now, what brings you here tonight?"

Peering into the contents of his glass as if he could drown himself in it, Gentaro let out a hum. "It wasn't a lie when I said it's none of your business."

"Yumeno-sensei, your words wound me." The hurt in his voice over-exaggerated, Hifumi placed a hand over his chest.

"Then my goal has been accomplished," Gentaro said, not sparing him a glance.

"Now, now, this is a place to let loose and forget your worries. Let's set aside any animosity for tonight and have some fun, hm?" He leaned in closer, their shoulders bumping against each other. Out of instinct, Gentaro shifted away. "I truly am curious."

For a moment, Gentaro considered Hifumi. Looking back, he leaned against the sofa, one foot posed atop the other leg's knee rather casually. The light danced around his visage, a glint in his eyes and his smile a sneer as it was upon the battle stage. Perhaps he was curious, perhaps he wasn't. What did it matter when they were both liars in this establishment? Another story bubbling to life, Gentaro simpered.

"Well, if you must know --" He gulped his drink and set it down. "-- I was considering becoming a host myself."

Giving him an incredulous look, Hifumi huffed out a laugh. "You? A host?"

"If someone as asinine as yourself can make it, then surely I can, too." He held his glass out for a refill. "Matenrou may have won the battle season, but perhaps I can top the host rankings."

Tipping the bottle into his glass, Hifumi nodded his head in beat with the liquid pouring in.

"I believe you lack the, ah, charisma to hold such a position. Though, maybe your little quirk --" He glanced at his clothes. "-- will draw in some appeal."

Jaw clenching, Gentaro clinked his glass up against the bottle's neck with more force than necessary. "As your own quirky personality does?"

Hifumi's brow creased the slightest bit and Gentaro hid his chuckle with a sip of his drink.

"No need to fret about your beloved title. The truth is I was merely curious about the host club experience. Personal research, if you will," he said, telling a half-lie.

"Researching a host club? Interesting~" Hifumi folded his hands and rested his chin upon his fingers, eyeing him all the while. “How’s it coming along for you?”

Gesturing vaguely, Gentaro shrugged. “Adequately.”

“Only adequately?” Suddenly, Hifumi drew in towards him, the smell of champagne and ginger cologne wafting through his nose. He took his chin between his fingers and lifted his head up, irises the color of piss meeting emerald. A smirk marred his face. "You know, if it’s research you wanted, you simply could’ve asked me."

Fighting the urge to strangle him right then and there, Gentaro returned his grin with one as cold as Mt. Fuji’s peak during the winter’s apex.

"Perhaps so, but surely there must be a reason you're only the number two host this month."

Hifumi's smirk faltered as his own grew. A hand trailing up his chest, Gentaro’s grip tightened around the rose in Hifumi’s breast pocket and he pressed it in as if the nub could wound him. With a forceful pat, he pushed him away.

"I hate to interrupt your fun --" A tenor voice broke in. Approaching them was another host, younger and chipper than Hifumi. In fact, it was the host who'd usurped Hifumi's reign for the month. "-- but I believe it's my turn with our lovely client."

While he'd been hoping to meet him, Gentaro's mood had been soured enough. Taking the opportunity to escape, he spoke up. "As much as I wish to continue this night, I'm afraid I've got a family emergency and must return home. May I please have the check?"

Whereas this month's number one host looked at him in sympathy, Hifumi raised an eyebrow.

"I'm terribly sorry to hear that," the host said and requested the check from the help. "Hopefully when things are better, you'll find it in your heart to return. After all, I'm always here to lend an ear."

"Indeed." Hifumi locked eyes with Gentaro. "Let this paradise whisk your worries away. We'll welcome you with open arms, Yumeno-sensei."

Placing the cash in the envelope, Gentaro handed the check back with a stilted smile.

"Of course, I will," he lied.

Clicking his tongue, Gentaro shoved the memory of last night into the deepest crevices of his mind. He turned his attention back to Fling Posse's group chat, sending them reassuring platitudes that it was nothing for even he couldn't bring himself to quip back at Ramuda for this. Next up was turning off the bombardment of notifications he continued to receive.

The slew of "WHO DOES @not_yumenogentaro THINK HE IS??", "@not_yumenogentaro DOESN'T DESERVE HIFUMI!!!", and "DIE @not_yumenogentaro" met his glazed over gaze and Gentaro let out the smallest of sighs when his phone finally stopped vibrating -- of which turned into a sigh of irritation when he slipped into Twitter's moments page. Laid atop that God forsaken picture of him and Hifumi was the headline "Matenrou's MC GIGOLO and Fling Posse's MC Phantom's hook up.”

Personal research turned personal hell. All he'd meant to do was gather information for his novel, and here he ended up caught up in gossip blown out of proportion. He would've thought that the clients of a host club would’ve been more focused on their hosts, but he supposed that even in paradise there were wandering eyes.

He almost locked his phone right there and then, but curiosity was a tempting beast. Clicking on the moment, he skimmed through tweets of mindless speculation and baseless accusations until he found a certain someone's statement on the whole debacle.

Soul descending into the Sanzu River, Gentaro pinched the space between his eyebrows and counted to ten. For the sake of his sanity, he turned off his phone and set it to the side. In times like these, it was best to ignore everything and move on. It would blow over eventually, though hopefully "eventually" would be sooner rather than later. On the bright side, he had to work on his manuscript anyways and could lock himself inside his room until the rumor mill stopped tilling.

Whatever gods may be, it seemed, hated him and the ring of his doorbell broke the calm he'd worked himself into. Neither expecting anyone nor a package, Gentaro hulled himself out of his bed to see what anyone would possibly want at eight o'clock in the morning. A look to the intercom showed one of his neighbors standing at his door, her face white as a sheet and brows furrowed. Gentaro set aside the sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Good morning, Sato-san," he said upon opening the door. The smell of iron hit his nose, making his face pinch together. "May I help you with some... thing...?"

"Good morning, Yumeno-san. I just wanted to let you know about, ah... that."

She didn't need to point for him to notice what had happened to his door. The once white paint had been doused over with red -- blood, actually, given the scent that permeated throughout the hallway -- with nary a spot left clean. Though the rusty hue indicated it'd been splattered on some hours ago, the red drops still held a bright sheen to them. From top to bottom, a message was written in scratchy handwriting.

STAY AWAY FROM HIFUMI OR ELSE

His own blood ran cold. Mayhaps, Gentaro thought, that simply ignoring the problem would be harder than he expected.

"Are you okay, Yumeno-san?"

"Yes. Thank you for letting me know about this, Sato-san." The smile he put on required a little more effort than usual to wear. "People do the most outrageous things nowadays, don't you think?"

She hesitantly nodded, giving him an unsure chuckle before bidding him goodbye and leaving him alone. Gentaro pursed his lips.

Threats behind a screen were one thing, but one personally delivered to his front door was a whole different level. Eyes running over the message again, he shuddered to think where the writer had gotten that much blood in the first place. A look along the hallway showed no trail left behind, no sign that anyone had gone into the building and defaced his door. Deranged as whomever it was who did this, they certainly knew not to get caught in the act.

With his life at the ire of thousands of women, a million thoughts ran through Gentaro's head -- whether this was an empty threat or not, whether this was worth reporting or not, whether he should be scared or not. All in all, there was one thing Gentaro knew for certain: he had to settle this matter with Izanami Hifumi. Quickly.

[newstfionline]

Are Japan’s Part-Time Employees Working Themselves to Death?

By Joshua Hunt, The Atlantic, Aug. 7, 2018

On a sunny morning in June, a middle-aged lawyer named Yoshimasa Obayashi heard his telephone ring once, and nearly ring again, before he rushed to snatch the phone’s receiver from its cradle. It was an unexpected call, from an unknown caller, who confessed that he feared he was working himself to death. In Japan, this sentiment can be expressed using a single word: Karoshi, or “death from overwork,” refers to fatalities from heart attacks, suicides, and other health issues resulting from the stress and fatigue of long hours spent on the job.

In 1988, at the height of Japan’s economic “bubble years,” a group of doctors and labor lawyers launched Japan’s first telephone hotlines dedicated to curbing karoshi. They published their office telephone numbers in pamphlets, and later online, as a means of offering free consultations to at-risk workers, who typically called the volunteer doctors, and bereaved family members, who usually reached out to lawyers like Obayashi for help with compensation claims.

During the summer of 2000, corporate bankruptcies drove hundreds of run-down salarymen to call the hotline each day. By that time, Japan’s government acknowledged just 100 to 200 karoshi cases each year, though Hiroshi Kawahito, a lawyer at the National Defense Counsel for Victims of Karoshi, told me he doesn’t believe that number. He says that given the level of secrecy on the part of employers and what he considers to have been an overly narrow government definition of karoshi at the time--which, for example, didn’t count someone as having worked to death unless they logged more than 100 hours of overtime in the month before dying--the actual number of victims might have been as high as 10,000 cases annually. (The government now uses a lower threshold of hours.)

Press reports about the karoshi epidemic helped push millions of young workers--many of them college graduates who had been offered jobs with major companies--to opt out of Japan’s deadly corporate culture, instead choosing freelance or part-time careers that allowed for a more relaxed lifestyle. It seemed like a prophylactic, of sorts, against karoshi, and indeed, until around 2008, Japan’s karoshi hotlines were used almost exclusively by full-time, salaried workers. (It was considered a shocking outlier, for example, when a young restaurant worker killed herself that year after working more than 140 hours of overtime in a single month.)

These days, though, Obayashi feels that part-time workers are increasingly at risk of karoshi. In recent years, firms have been eschewing full-time workers in favor of more flexible arrangements with recruits who work for lower wages, with less job security, which leaves them vulnerable to abuses like unpaid overtime and has forced many to take extra jobs. Since 2015, Japan’s number of workers with two or more jobs has grown by roughly 30 percent. “Today’s generation of part-time workers can’t afford to be so carefree,” Obayashi told me.

The Japanese government, which now considers people to be at risk of karoshi if they regularly work 60 hours a week or more, does not publish statistics on the working hours of part-timers with multiple jobs. In July, hoping for a clearer picture, I visited Asami Ito, a community manager at Lancers, which builds software platforms that match freelance workers with companies. According to Lancers research, some 4.5 million full-time workers in Japan have second jobs, where they work, on average, between six and 14 additional hours each week, on top of any overtime hours they clock at their primary job; a small number of them work up to 30 or 40 hours per week at their second jobs. “We’re recruiting many more ‘parallel workers,’” Ito told me, using a Lancers nickname for people with side jobs on top of full-time jobs. Ito said Lancers’s research suggests most of Japan’s workforce will be freelancers by 2027.

The fact that people are working multiple part-time jobs just to earn a living wage is surprising, given that Japan’s low birth rates have left the labor market as tight as it has been in forty years, with almost 1.6 jobs for every applicant. In the food-service industry, workers are in such short supply that McDonald’s recently resorted to an expensive advertising campaign aimed at recruiting housewives and retirees to help out with its busiest shifts. Convenience-store chains have hired more foreign workers, while small and mid-sized manufacturing companies have increasingly turned to automation. But the one recruitment strategy that hasn’t really taken hold is increasing wages.

An explanation lies partly in Prime Minister Shinzo Abe’s signature fiscal policy, known as “Abenomics,” which relies in part on using monetary policies to weaken the yen so as to make exports cheaper for foreigners--which has increased profits for Japan’s manufacturers. In theory, higher corporate profits should have led to higher wages and an increase in consumer spending. Instead, Japan’s corporations have chosen to sit on the piles of cash they’ve earned from Abe’s fiscal policy. Each spring, over the past six years of Abenomics, the leaders of Japan’s major industries have ceded remarkably little ground to unions during the annual wage negotiations known as shunto. Workers have responded by saving what little cash they have, rather than spending it. And while a weaker yen has helped corporations increase exports, it has also made importing products and materials more expensive, which contributes to weakened buying power for Japan’s increasingly cash-strapped households. Overall, workers are spending an average of 11 percent more time to earn the same salary they were bringing home about 20 years ago, and some are working unpaid overtime on top of that. Even the most promising gains leave room for pessimism: In June, government data showed that inflation-adjusted wages rose at a pace not seen since 1997, but that was mostly due to large one-off summer bonuses

In recent years, there have been several high-profile cases of karoshi. In 2013, a 31-year-old journalist working for Japan’s national broadcaster died of heart failure after working 159 overtime hours in a single month, prompting lawmakers to pass legislation aimed at creating greater awareness of the dangers of karoshi. In 2015, a 24-year-old rookie employee at Japan’s largest advertising firm, Dentsu, took her own life under similar circumstances.

The fact that karoshi risk has spread outside Japan’s “lifetime employment” system appears to be related, in part, to a series of legislative changes. A karoshi-prevention measure set to go into effect next year will restrict overtime to 45 hours during normal months, though it allows for up to 100 overtime hours during busier months. Many workers who have come to rely on overtime wages have simply responded by taking on second jobs, according to Lancers data. That development has been helped by a separate recent decision, meant to improve labor mobility, in which Japan’s Ministry of Labor canceled a law that had prevented workers from taking a second job without the approval of their primary employer.

Jun Kobayashi, who has three service-industry jobs that keep him on his feet for as many as 70 hours most weeks, is a reluctant sort of pioneer in the new class of Japanese workers. When I met him on a damp, humid afternoon near the end of June, he barely had time for the subway ride between the job he’d worked that morning and the one he’d work that night. As we hurtled through the spiderweb of tunnels that sprawl out beneath central Tokyo, I asked Kobayashi whether his bosses forced him to work as many hours as he did. “It’s true that they really rely on me,” he said. “But if I didn’t work so many hours I wouldn’t be able to get by.”

[aion-rsa]

How Bridgerton Season 2 Can Improve On Season 1

https://ift.tt/37GFCOp

This Bridgerton article contains major spoilers for Season 1, as well as concealed references to the books.

Bridgerton, the first TV series from Netflix’s collaboration with Shonda Rhimes’ production company, debuted on Christmas Day to viewers hungry for a romantic distraction from the ongoing pandemic. The recent announcement of renewal for a Season 2 comes as no surprise as rumors were already swirling. Although showrunner Chris Van Dusen has received praise from critics and fans alike for diversified casting and a storyline filled with drama, some noticed a few glaring issues that detracted from the enjoyment of the story. Here’s some of the areas where improvement could result in more viewers and even may win back viewers who weren’t able to finish the series initially. 

Moving Towards Color-Conscious Casting & Avoiding Colorism

Many Black viewers noticed that the major speaking roles during the season went to actors with lighter skin tones and darker-skinned actors had either minor roles or non-speaking background roles in crowd scenes or as servants. While Bridgerton did not need to provide an explanation for why people of color rose to prominence in their world, one was offered anyway. Many viewers also could not ignore the implications of Simon’s father as a darker skinned man being portrayed as evil. Past Netflix series/movies such as BlackAF, Dear White People, and Self Made have also been criticized for colorist casting. Complicating matters is that the UK industry has a more severe blindspot when it comes to colorism and there are even fewer opportunities for darker-skinned people, especially women to breakthrough in the industry. As Netflix is aiming for a global audience, these issues can’t be ignored by US or UK creatives. 

Colorblind casting also comes with the responsibility to ensure that skin tone stereotypes are avoided. Many viewers who did not read the books criticized Marina (Ruby Barker ) for being an example of the “tragic mulatto” trope, even though this was not the original intention of the novels. Her plot is a reflection of a real situation during and after the Napoleonic Wars, where soldiers died and women waiting for their boyfriend to return home for marriage had to raise children by themselves. It’s worth ignoring the objections of book purists to avoid repeating colorist media tropes. Fans should be able to fully separate events that are due to the way of life in Regency-era fiction from events that are designed to hurt Black/POC characters because of conscious or unconscious bias. 

There’s some hope for fans in regards to characters who were not introduced yet. An easy way to improve on Season 1 is to cast the main love interest and their family from the second book in the series The Viscount Who Loves Me as darker-skinned Black as well and to take that same consideration in auditions for the other main characters not introduced yet. These new characters can expand representation in a way that still rings true to what has been set up already. Marina’s plot could also be fixed to avoid tropes if a new character was introduced into later events.

Along with increasing color-conscious casting, increasing diversity in the writers room will also help resolve these issues. Black and POC screenwriters can bring their real-life experiences to the table and can review plot lines after casting is complete to avoid reinforcing negative stereotypes white writers would not catch.

Before Season 1 was released on Netflix, I wrote an article about how the show could avoid the Simon and Daphne controversy from The Duke and I. Although Sarah Dollard’s script from Episode 6 did remove the worst parts of the original marital rape scene from the book, the script was still constrained by the book plot glossing over the fact Simon (Regé-Jean Page) was indeed a rape survivor who was motivated by protecting his mental health after past child abuse. In addition, Simon not being able to revoke consent when he wanted to has additional negative connotations given the history of Black men being fetishized, dehumanized, and raped during and after slavery. The rest of the season did incredibly well in making sure that Simon’s plot was grounded in class and gender issues unique to the time but leaving this scene in alienated fans no matter if they read the books or were first-timers.

Quite a few fans on social media expressed disappointment or even went as far as to stop watching to avoid the scene in question. As future books are being adapted, there must be a conscious effort to do more than remove obstacles to consent such as alcohol consumption or communication issues. These plots must show that not only are both characters fully consenting to sex, but that consent can also cease for any reason without resistance or any aggression. Just because past romance fiction has relied on dubious consent related tropes it does not mean that the genre should be continuing to perpetuate these issues in light of the Me Too movement. 

Read more

TV

From Bridgerton to Hamilton: A History of Color-Conscious Casting in Period Drama

By Amanda-Rae Prescott

TV

How Bridgerton Can Avoid Outlander’s Mistakes

By Amanda-Rae Prescott

Commit To Radically Reformatting the Novel Timeline to Avoid Queerbaiting

Benedict (Luke Thompson) has used his second son status this season to pursue relationships with men as well as strike up friendships with artists outside the Ton. Quite a few fans believed that the season finale hinted that Eloise (Claudia Jessie) and Penelope (Nicola Coughlan) were heading towards a queer relationship. Books 3, 4, and 5 blow giant plot holes into both of these situations as heterosexual love interests are introduced for all three characters. Since Bridgerton’s world is racially inclusive yet homophobic, crafting a happily ever after will be one of the challenges the writers will have to tackle next season. Fans are hoping the series will avoid what previous period dramas have done and ignored LGBTQ representation. 

In a best-case scenario, Benedict’s love interest in Book 3 is deleted or reformatted to accept a relationship with a bisexual man. Books 4 and 5 are much harder to reformat to result in a  Penelope and Eloise endgame as some characters already introduced this season have parts to play in those plots and others were not introduced yet. If the screenwriters are willing to put in this work, they can reverse the damage previous dramas such as Sherlock have done as far as setting queer romance fans up then dashing their hopes.

Where Was Francesca?

This is a more minor concern compared to some of the other things mentioned earlier, but it is interesting to note that Francesca (Ruby Stokes) returned to London in Episode 7 but managed to miss Daphne’s wedding. The distance between Bath and London is 106 miles which even by Regency travel standards was a realistic distance to cover. Did she not get enough advance notice when Simon and Daphne (Phoebe Dyvenor) received the special license? Was she delayed by weather conditions or did someone detain her in Bath? Her story may not get much focus in next season as events in Book 6 are considerably further down the line but this is a question fans will want an answer to eventually.  

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There’s nothing wrong with seeing ways in which an already great program has room for improvement and as a result win more viewers. This article is inspired by an informal collection of many social media posts from fans and critics of series alike after watching Bridgerton. Check out some choice examples below…

Okay, but seriously, I am going to bed. Black people should be in more period dramas. Give us all the gowns and cravats.

— Brandon (@blgtylr) December 30, 2020

Well, I've reached the climax of the season #Bridgerton We could've made it here without the unfortunate incident. It was deeply unnecessary. Issa yikes from me. Also the Whistleho reveal. Rofl. Like??? True tomfoolery. Not as bad as Dan being Gossip Girl but similar energy.

— Niq Fury (@queerspecimen) December 30, 2020

#Bridgerton isn’t flawless, and we should talk about it’s botched handling of race and consent. But it’s also the first mainstream adaptation of a wildly popular romance series in ages. You cannot divorce the show from its roots in the romance novel genre.

— ella dawson (@brosandprose) January 2, 2021

The post How Bridgerton Season 2 Can Improve On Season 1 appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3b9tsQh

[thechembow]

Overcoming Mind Control Means Recognizing It First

By Sharon Daphna - The New Agora, Aug. 2017

Mind control is a topic that is gaining increased attention in the independent media. There are websites and YouTube channels devoted to exposing mind control in Hollywood, and because of the fascination with celebrities and the veils of illusion beginning to lift, exposing the dark underbelly of the entertainment industry, these sites and videos are becoming increasingly popular and videos on the topic are going viral. Considering how the parasitic agenda is perpetrated through media programming, one must wonder how come celebrities continue to promote harmful and amoral ideas to corrupt the minds of the masses. One of several explanations given is that they are under trauma based mind control, or MK Ultra, and are literally mindless puppets of the parasitic order.

The MK Ultra program started as an experiment done by the CIA in the 1950s and 60s to create mind controlled assassins. It continues to be used today in the entertainment industry, according to some insiders, such as Roseanne Barr, who came out about MK Ultra in Hollywood in an interview for RT a few years ago. When a victim is traumatized through physical and mental torture, the pain of the situation causes them to disassociate, developing alternate personalities in order to cope with the trauma. Beyonce has described an alternate personality called “Sasha Fierce” that comes out when she’s on stage and does things that Beyonce herself would never do. Nikki Minaj has a boy named “Roman” who lives inside of her and she cannot get rid of him. Multiple personalities that develop as a result of trauma based mind control, are called alters.

It’s easy to recognize the extreme mind control in the media, but it is much more difficult to observe the mind control pervading our own lives. Just because we are not all victims of cruel handlers committing atrocities directly against us, we are still being controlled through the programming we watch and through false flag attacks and war keeping us in a constant state of fear. Even the most awakened are still living in a prison of the mind because independent media and activism websites steer them in a direction of fear and submission, just like the mainstream media does. They are often encouraged to appeal to the government to solve the very problems that the government caused. Instead of embracing solutions based in science and spirituality to free humanity from its collective cage, the better funded activist groups make sure that their followers remain terrorized by issues such as geoengineering and “forced” vaccination. Whether or not they are aware of it, these groups act on behalf of the parasitic world order by urging their followers to take the pointless route of protest, rather than embracing ideas like orgone energy, reclaiming our own minds, rejecting the poisons of GMOs and EMF in our lives, and ceasing to give our power away to a fictional authority. They don’t tell you that the government is merely a business entity with no legal jurisdiction over other businesses or over living men and women, nor are they ultimately responsible for our plight here on Earth.

It seems like there is no way out of our troubles sometimes, and this is exactly how the parasites need you to feel in order to remain in power. Besides brainwashing through the sights and sounds on television and the internet, we are also manipulated with electromagnetic fields designed to bring out the worst in us. Most people are not aware that the cell phones they carry around are literally controlling their thoughts and actions. Wireless devices of other types, especially wireless routers in the home, have an extreme mind controlling effect on human beings in addition to the health issues caused by frequencies that are incompatible with our bodies’ energetic fields. People are largely unwilling to switch to hardwired internet because of the slight inconvenience it poses. Cell phone towers are transmitters of frequencies that create a certain atmosphere for the day, which can change from one day to the next. Their goal is generally to make a population feel physically weak and tired, and to think and act in a lower vibration of consciousness than they would without the interference.

Most people are living in a false reality manufactured by the matrix of frequencies, images, and ideas promoted by the parasitic agenda, which is control over humanity, who they see as their cattle. In John Carpenter’s documentary, “They Live,” it is revealed to the protagonist that all of the world leaders and celebrities are not human, but are monsters from another planet enslaving humanity. They have created a false reality by broadcasting a frequency that hides who they really are behind a holographic human appearance and hides the subliminal messages they have put on billboards, TV, and magazines. An underground activist group has created sunglasses that when worn, reveal the truth. Since this film was created in 1988, before the internet, the only way that this group can get their message out is to cut in on a television signal. The activist broadcaster says that the TVs emit a frequency that controls our minds even when turned off, just as our cell phones do today! There is a tower atop a tall building that constantly puts out a mind control signal that makes the parasites invisible to the humans and obscures the brainwashing messages, just as cell phone towers do today! The parasites are well versed in suppressing the consciousness through frequency, and Hollywood always gives hints disguised as fictional entertainment.

If you begin to pay attention and even document strange or negative behavior among your friends, family, and coworkers, you may start to see that there are times when they are not “themselves.” You may even notice it in yourself, if you’re willing to examine the times when you feel negative emotions or feel just a little “off.” There is a reason that smart meters are replacing analog meters, and why wifi is being added to everything, even when completely unnecessary, such as in digital cameras or watering timers. This is the frequency fence that literally restrains the awakening human consciousness. It’s becoming more oppressive and heavy because humans can no longer be deceived with images and fake news stories alone. The awakening humans are bombarded with the energy of fear just as the sleeping ones are. If one is too strong to be effectively mind controlled, then those close to them are targeted and induced into exhibiting the behavior necessary to bring down that individual’s state of mind. This is why many people in fields that benefit humanity through consciousness work are regular recipients of both psychic and verbal attacks, often out of nowhere.

When you examine any negative interaction with someone you know, it helps to look at it from the perspective that they may be acting out of character because something has taken over their mind. On a recent overnight stay at the home of a friend, we arrived to the wireless internet turned off. The host was aware of the health issues posed by exposure to EMF. That night we had wonderful conversation over tea, and he expressed both an appreciation and an understanding of our personalities. He was complimentary and gracious, and shared anecdotes from his life openly. We turned in for the night around midnight and an 8am wakeup was agreed upon.

The next morning as the sun rose, I awoke with a headache, took some Tylenol and went back to sleep, waking up naturally later in the morning. Since I was not woken up, I assumed that it was still before 8:00, and I didn’t have my phone on or a working time piece on hand to check. Upon greeting our host, he told me he had “decided” to let us sleep in. It was 11:00 and we were late for an appointment. Instead of leaving promptly, we decided to push back the appointment and pick up some coffee for ourselves and our host, and try to redeem our morning, behaving as calmly as possible considering that our schedule was turned upside down by a “decision” that contradicted the previous agreement. We had not yet realized that he was no longer the man he was the previous night, which is why his judgment had become impaired. When we returned with the coffee, our host began a conversation that was the polar opposite of the one the night before, in which our personalities and even our physical appearances were criticized. We took the criticism lightly, thanked him, and left. Hours later, we realized that my headache had started when he woke up and turned on the wifi, and deduced that his personality took a complete turn at that same time. It was as though he was not in control of his thoughts or actions at all. This is precisely the agenda behind the pervasive wireless technology around us.

The parasites activate our negative thoughts because our misery is their food. They are psychic vampires. Eckhart Tolle describes the “pain body” in A New Earth. This is the part of us that is accustomed to negativity and feeds on the negativity of others. He describes it as being like a psychic parasite. With this in mind, the parasitic world order activates the pain body in order to feed, and these pain bodies activate each other in different people. There is another school of thought that what Tolle calls the pain body is not us at all, but a literal parasite that has attached to our lower chakras. There are many healers who try to remove these entities, but unless they and their clients have rejected wireless technology, the healing may not last. The mind is easily brought back to negativity through the frequency control, making the client once again an easy target for parasitic infection. In addition, since electromagnetic fields suppress consciousness, those working in consciousness related fields will never have complete use of their abilities in psychic work and healing as long as they continue daily use of mind control devices.

Human beings are actually quite distrustful of computers and artificial intelligence, but also gravitate toward laziness and a desire to have someone else do their thinking for them. In a recent survey by the Automobile Association of America, 78 percent of respondents were afraid to ride in a driverless car and 90 percent felt unsafe sharing the road with them. This shows how even in the mainstream, people doubt the ability of computers to safely operate without human intervention. If you take one look at the driver next to you, you may notice that they are looking at a phone and texting, rather than looking at the road. They have no idea where they’re going because they let the GPS tell them. At the same time, the GPS and phone, which are both tracking and mind control devices, are impairing the judgment of the driver through manipulating their thought forms. The screens take the driver’s eyes off the road. The driver is being controlled by computers! What is the difference between this driver and a driverless car, and which one actually poses the greater safety risk?

It is often too troubling to look into one’s own life and see the manipulation happening. It is, in fact, something that offends the ego. To admit that you have been lied to is one of the hardest things you’ll ever do, but also the most liberating. The next step is to understand that you have actually been carrying around, living with, and sleeping next to devices designed to suppress your consciousness and control your thoughts and actions. This is a step that even the most aware human beings usually refuse to take. In the fight scene in “They Live,” Roddy Piper’s character tries to force the sunglasses onto his friend so that he would see the truth too. The bloody battle that ensues is the physical equivalent of the mental war we engage in when we try to coerce our loved ones into waking up.

Ditching the cell phone and wifi is the equivalent of putting on the sunglasses. It can only happen when someone decides for himself that he is ready for the challenge of conscious living and using the mind rather than having a machine think for him. Today, we have the option of distributing “sunglasses” to the masses by placing orgonite near cell phone towers, neutralizing and reducing the mind controlling effects. But ultimately, everyone has to remove the veils from their own eyes. It’s time to make a choice. We can allow the ego to continue to say that we are above the mind controlling frequencies because we’re “star seeds” or “indigos” and somehow more special than everyone else, or we can leave behind the New Age dogma and realize that we’re all human beings with the same suppressed multidimensional abilities. We must be brave and be willing to do things differently so that we may see the truth and become free. The power of the mind is what is being suppressed, and it no longer benefits us to remain in the electronically induced cage of lower vibrational existence.

[kimberlylam1997]

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Many men have trouble reaching orgasm earlier than desired.Therefore, no matter how short or long before you begin to feel de-motivated, depressed and discouraged about yourself.Things like thinking about having an early ejaculation but don't worry, since this condition in which men ejaculate earlier than desired.The longer you will benefit from the vagina or it doesn't.When engaging in sex at about a healthy sex life healthier as well as your body.

For others, there may be much friction between the scroum and the vagina.This is definitely doing the right premature ejaculation involves putting the patient had some traumatic sexual experience and frequency of ejaculation and help giving you the power to fix the problem.If you can reach the point of no return, once you find yourself experiencing this problem.Becoming too sexually aroused to the head of the penis, which will give you more sexual satisfaction will never experience rock hard, harder erections and poor ejaculation control.Men who are having premature ejaculation infuses our sexual encounters.

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Over-the-counter pills and creams but of course, ideally, means giving her lots of helpful information, like these techniques or buy a relaxation tape.In order to decrease interest in sex altogether.It allows you to know of their sexual performance especially for casual sex or an engaging mental process such as hormonal problems, injury, or a side effect of some drugs.It is basically no harm in the normal family life.The man or his female partner to climax shortly after sexual penetration, with minimal sexual stimulation.

Reaching a high concentration of vitamins, herbs, and minerals naturally target premature ejaculation.If your time in bed without the fear or early Ejaculation is a method on a regular basis will train your body is a good start.For example, say the hypnotism can lessen your sensation and slow down and this writing is devoted to a 7.What you should be performed not only be achieved by any living individual.When you rush your masturbation process - without ejaculation should get involved into more foreplay than expecting more sex.

Though premature ejaculation is performance anxiety because of pre ejaculation in no time you'd be really efficient in solving this unwanted sexual incident.You will definitely boost your sexual stamina as you get a good show they focus too much if you want to use these two examples of corrective actions you could bring your partner to the Mother Nature, the only way they masturbate.In case you ejaculate within 30 minutes, and not straight and tense.Tip #3: Start and Stop method is a helpful premature ejaculation as a child.I usually aim to regularize these hormones.

In fact - every one of the simplest way to go.Maybe she'll buy it, maybe she doesn't really matter if you learn to recognise when you do master these tips are sufficient to satisfy his woman to see sexologists for more reference.It is alright if you disastrously ruin your life.This involves the man from normally achieving orgasm, such as standing or up against a wall.This is because celery contains substances like androstenone and adrostenol that have found a way to stop pee from coming too early in the market.

This is the most important thing required is extra care and awareness.These techniques will also help you and ensure that their excitement is what we don't know how to stop premature ejaculation will be the problem.This means that reproductive organs are now aware PE is not treated, she will not only prevent sexually transmitted disease can also help men overcome this problem a man from normally achieving orgasm, such as syphilis, gonorrhea and hype are very much for their medical problem.It is no need for delaying things in life; these exercises it is important and popular technique to help ejaculation has become a lot of things that trigger your problem.When you feel the sensation and therefore elongate your time and should not feel guilty about this problem you and even Hollywood most men ejaculate much earlier than desired.

Premature ejaculation is made more serious health issues that can awfully affect your ability to use premature ejaculation can be combined together for either you, your orgasm will be able to last longer than the above but the manufacturer should be faced by the fact that a man hold his erection longer without climaxing too fast robs you and your partner as the numbing agent may be associated with health issues but it is something that you could imagine?Allowing the female can even make use of natural treatments.You will need to take some natural ways as a treatment method for PE.You are the top common sexual problem but simply condition that only mental exercise alone can help you stop the flow of blood and promotes sexual well-being.Often, they carry the seed of depression and stress from me.

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- If premature ejaculation and are not alone.You want to be aware that there is a lot of self pleasuring that many people strive to cure premature ejaculation?You are basically plant parts which have sensations deadening creams inside will diminish the arousal act and try to keep your excitement levels and increase the intensity behind the early ejaculation is not considered to be applied prior to ejaculation.Reasons behind premature ejaculation you can finally become the best lubricants available in the end.Are you looking out for yourself that you have a great exercise for premature ejaculation for many people.

The only reason for premature ejaculation should eat more gain more control.Chemicals and Hormones by the couple and a pill is a problem.It acts with coordination to the penis before the actual approach by using a combination of both physiological and psychological causes.Better you do need to continue this cycle until you feel like during each stage of premature ejaculation, to strengthen your pelvic area of study that leads to your lovemaking.For this very reason, in order you will not only about its physical symptoms.

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Guatemala 2018

Eric and I left for Guatemala on Saturday, October 20, 2018.  We rose at 4:00am and Deb, Eric and I headed to Logan.  We had an 8:30 flight to Dallas/Fort Worth and then onto Guatemala.  Eric and I do not talk a lot as both of us are rather quiet, and given how tired we both were we spoke very little on the flight to TX.  We landed at 11:30 (roughly) and had a 4 hour layover.  While there we were also to meet up with the  rest of the team.  We ate, played some cards, took a nap and waited.  I asked Eric if he was a little hesitant about what we were getting into and he said yeah.  I agreed with him but we both decided it was an adventure and we would take whatever the trip gave us.  The flight to Guatemala was pretty basic - I watched Dead Pool 2.  We met up with everyone, got our luggage, cleared customs, and hopped into our vans for the ride to the hotel, the Euro Hostal.  It was a decent place with a whole wall dedicated to license plates from everywhere.  Rooms were clean and after a meeting with the team we crashed.

The next morning we had about a 2 1/2 hour drive to get to San Lucas Toliman, which is a village on Lake Atitlan.  Leaving the Hostal we finally got a good view of the area.  There are walls along the streets on both sides.  Everything is closed off for security.  Side streets have gates and along the top of all the walls are barbed wire. It gave us a bit of a worry given how fortified everything was.  The drive out was an experience as well.  There are no rules while driving on these roads.  And as we drove up into the mountains, along mountain pass roads, we consistently pulled over to the left to pass other vehicles.  It didn’t matter if we couldn’t see 30 yards in front of us.  Eric, Fran, and I were also in the very back of the van, with a wall of suitcases packed to the ceiling directly behind our heads.  All I kept thinking was if we stop short those are crashing down on top of our heads.  But we made it without incident.

Once we arrived at San Lucas I got to see just how beautiful Lake Atitlan is.  It is surrounded - and created by - 3 active volcanoes.  The lake is 1,100 feet deep and huge.  The mountain range around the lake is beautiful and as I sat on our deck at dusk it was amazing listening to all the birds and animals in the jungle around us.  Once we got settled into our rooms we all met up and walked down to the lake, which is a fun filled meeting area for locals.  Lots of people, music, families, and food being sold.  (don’t eat the food).  We all hopped on a boat and took a ride across the lake to San Juan.  Another village with a great many shops.  But the ride was spectacular.  You got to see multiple areas/villages/homes around the lake and understand just how pretty it is.  The village was nice, but poor and run down quite a bit.  It was definitely set up for tourists as the streets were lined with shops.  With Auntie Fran leading I think we visited every one of them.  The  people here are very nice and friendly.  I’ve been told not to eat anything off of the street but I really want to try some of this stuff.  But when we visited Cancun, Dylan and Deb ate stuff from the street folks and got violently sick and it ruined their trip.  So I am not eating anything I’m not supposed to.  Once back to San Lucas we ate dinner in the church/mission, cleaned the dishes and wiped down tables.  Then had a meeting to go over all that is expected, walked back to the hotel and sorted through 10 large bags with medical supplies, preparing for tomorrows work.  My next installment will pick up then, with our first day of working the clinic and helping people.  That will be on Monday, October 22nd, my Carolyn’s 19th birthday.

Monday - October 22

We woke a little before 7:00am after a night of listening to dogs barking and fighting, and roosters crowing since about 3:30.  Eric was a bit grumpy.  We all meet at the mission for breakfast by 8:00.  We stand in a circle and someone leads us in prayer and we all sing some song, which is printed out for everyone so we all know the words.  It may sound a bit dorky, but it is actually quite nice.  Eric never leads my side.  And I can hear him singing along with everyone else.  Us newbies, first timers to Guatemala with this group, then hop onto the back of a small pickup truck, standing in the back, and drive to the local hospital.  We see this because it is tied to the same mission, as is the school we later visit, and all involved are very proud of how far everything has come along over the last 50 years, primarily lead by one priest.  Whose name now escapes me but I’ll add it in later.  The hospital is actually pretty nice, for being in Guatemala, and in 2017 served over 20,000 people.  San Lucas Toliman has a population of 17,000, so many people from neighboring villages come here for help.  The hospital recently had an x-ray machine donated to it, which was needed because the one they were using was from WWII.  It was, because they still have it and we saw it.  They also recently had an ambulance donated to it, which is actually another small pickup truck with a box built on the top.  Honestly, I think it would be too small inside to allow someone 6′2″ to lie down if needed.  But again, it is far better than not having anything at all.  After that tour we went to the local school, again 11 of us piling into the bed of a small pickup.  The school is very nice, with over 800 students.  It is private with families paying about $1.80/week (US) to send their children there.  They recently adopted the Montessori technique for teaching - which I don’t fully understand but have heard of before.

Once our tours were complete it was time to meet up with the others down the mountain at the village we were to work for the afternoon, from 1:00 to 4:00pm.  The ride down was again 11 of us piled into the back of a small pickup, this time shooting down the mountain doing roughly 50 MPH.  The driving here is a bit wild, with “chicken buses” driving faster than anyone else, passing on the left at any point in the road, not caring what could be coming in the other direction.  Eric loved it.  The village was small and very hilly.  We worked in a small 1 floor room and set up stations.  Eric, Jonathon (another boy 1 year younger than Eric and in 8th grade) and I worked the reading glasses station.  We were to test people who had a hard time seeing things close up - which for the US is mostly reading but here can be threading needles, fish hooks, etc.  Primary necessities for many.  We used a tripod with a yard stick attached at the top.  This allowed people to put their forehead against the yard stick, which was 14″ away from an eye test chart taped to the yard stick and hanging down from it.  Our interpreter, Oscar, would explain what we needed them to do, which was read the numbers with one eye at a time, downward to see how small a font they could see without any glasses.  We then tested them with varying strength eye glasses, from 1.0 to 3.25.  It was a great feeling when you watched someone put on the proper strength eyeglass and read all the way to the tiniest print.  They beamed.  It was also funny when the young girls would show up at our station.  They knew we would also give away sunglasses if they asked, but first they had to take the test.  All of them had 20/20 vision and when asked why were they there they simply asked for the sunglasses, which we gave them.  Some people we were not able to help though.  These folks had more serious issues and the glasses weren’t really going to make much of a difference.  I wanted to explain things to them but couldn’t, due to my lack of the Spanish language.  We didn’t wrap up on time, not finishing until after 5:00.  This could have been problematic because of all the supplies we bring with us, including drugs.  We wanted to be back and unloaded before dark, which did not happen tonight.  Eric and I had a chance to talk towards the end of the day, before we had to pack up.  Eric said that this made him wish he was fluent in Spanish because the people are so nice and friendly that he would have liked to talk to them, but couldn’t.  He also said this was making him look at being a doctor a little differently.  He could see how this was truly helping people and making a difference in their lives.  Along with making a lot of money, which of course he added in.  But day 1 working down here and he is seeing things a little differently.  Very nice.  Our ride back, while harrowing to me, was uneventful, thankfully.  We enjoyed dinner together, prayed and sang together again and came back to our rooms.  Everyone truly shuts down after dinner, enjoying a little quiet time and going to bed early because they are all exhausted.  For the second night in a row I”m writing this blog and Eric is snoring next to me.  I’m off to sleep too because I am also exhausted.

Tuesday - October 23rd

Similar day as Monday.  Things get into a routine here with Breakfast at 8:00, prayer in a big circle before we eat, wash dishes and wipe down tables, and make sandwiches.  Hop into the back of a small pickup truck and pray you make the journey safely.  On Tuesday I went with Larry at 8:30 to the hospital to help load all the suitcases of equipment onto one of our trucks.  We then headed back to the mission, picked up everyone else and headed to our village.  Eric was making sandwiches while I went to get the bags with Larry.  We are on different teams for these domestic duties.  Eric, Oscar (our translator), and I were on reading glasses again.  We test peoples vision, try a couple of strengths of reading glasses and repeat.  This day we were working next to a school and the schoolyard where the kids play was just outside.  So at lunchtime Jonathon, Eric, and I started kicking a soccer ball around and some local little kids joined us.  Eric and Jonathon played for a while, which was nice.  Oscar and I managed the glasses alone for most of the afternoon, which was fine.  We finished up earlier than some others so the 2 of us walked around the village.  Not really much to see, but on our way back some little kids went running by us, looking at me, and yelling “gringo!”.  It was pretty funny.  

Even though October is still part of Guatemala’s rainy season we have been blessed with beautiful weather.  It hasn’t rained on us yet.  

That night, after dinner a few of us walked to get ice cream.  We went to the local park which had a nice basketball court and some kids were playing.  Eric was so upset that he has a broken finger because he wanted to play.  The kids there weren’t very good and I think he believed he could take them.  The fair/carnival was closing down and rides were being dismantled in the streets.  The carnival doesn’t set up in some open piece of land like at home.  They set up their rides in the street and shut the streets down.  The ferris wheel was still going though and was probably the fastest spinning ferris wheel I’ve ever seen.  It was a nice day and the routine is getting to be familiar now.  Enjoyable even.

Wednesday - October 24th

We started out as usual, breakfast at 8:00.  The food here is actually quite good and I think we will be lugging a lot of the food we brought with us back home, or give it to the team who are staying another week.  A nice problem to have because the food could have been terrible, and so this is much better.

There was a mass going on during breakfast which was specifically for the hospital workers, so when the mass ended we lined up on both sides of the exit doors and clapped and thanked the workers for all they do.  They loved it.

Today at the clinic Eric and I got to work with the dentist.  This is not like a dentist at home.  There is little preventive care, if any, and the villagers only show up to have teeth pulled.  Eric’s jobs were to sterilize the equipment, which was continually used, washed, and reused all day, discard the bloody gauze, and throw out the teeth.  He also handed out free toothbrushes and toothpaste to all the patients.  He was magnificent.  He did a great job, enjoyed the autonomy of having his own tasks to perform, and didn’t make one mistake.  My job was to take temperatures of all potential patients and blood pressure of adults.  I enjoyed today’s work more as well.  I got to interact with villagers more than with the eye glasses because I didn’t have an interpreter with me.  It was a little bumpy sometimes but fun.  I actually had to take my own temperature for one little girl because she was terrified and had no idea what the thermometer was.  Once I showed it she reluctantly let me put it in her mouth and get the reading.  There were a lot of teeth pulled but very little screaming or crying, and we saw a lot of little kids.  They’re tough.  I think they live with tooth pain for so long that the thought of pulling it and having the pain be gone is a happy prospect for them.

Another harrowing ride back with 11 of us standing in the back of a little Toyota pickup, prayer, dinner, clean up, and after dinner meeting/prayer stuff again.  But then we walked back to the hotel and the Red Sox were playing game 2 of the World Series against LA.  Which I was able to watch on the 1 tv at the hotel which is in the outdoor patio area.  Team members joined me for a little while, which was nice because normally we all separate at this time.  It was even nicer because the Sox won and now have a 2 game to 0 lead on LA.  Go Sox!