#she's a hard worker and smart don't get me wrong

[navybrat817]

If you're still taking ficlet requests, maybe a dark or soft dark Bucky who works for your dad?

I hope you like where I went with this, nonnie!

Dollhouse

Pairing: Soft Dark!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: Over 900

Warnings: Toxic family, implied cheating (not reader or Bucky), drug and drinking reference, inspired by the song Dollhouse. Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes and implied future dubcon/noncon.

You didn’t want to come home for the weekend. You lost track of how many times you told your dad that. It didn’t matter that you weren’t a child anymore or that you weren’t living at the mansion. The expectation was that you would play the part of a supporting daughter in front of his employees no matter what. It was laughable, if not utterly sad. Either most didn’t know your family was far from a happy one or they didn’t care. And why would they as long as they got what they wanted?

Places, places, get in your places. Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces.

“Dad, I’m going to change and go for a swim,” you announced.

Your dad along with the group of men that surrounded him turned their heads toward you. Most of the men averted their gazes after a moment, except for one: Bucky Barnes. Ever since he started working for your dad he took an unexpected interest in you. He was always asking about your personal life, and he seemed all too happy when your recent relationship ended. Your dad, of course, loved him because he was a hard worker and made him money.

“Where’s your brother?” your dad asked, making you look away from Bucky.

“Couldn’t tell you,” you answered. If you had to guess, he was off in his room getting high.

“Okay. Just enjoy your swim, princess.” You did your best not to roll your eyes at the nickname. “But make sure you’re set for dinner. Your mother’s cooking your favorite.”

You did roll your eyes this time, and Bucky continued to stare. Your mom never lifted a finger in the kitchen. She’d order out and make it look like she did it herself.

Everyone thinks that we're perfect. Please don't let them look through the curtains.

“Of course, dad,” you said, leaving without another word and feeling a pair of cold blue eyes follow your every move.

The chatter from the main room filled the hall as you went to your room to change, the sound muffled once you shut the door. You blocked it out as best as you could as you selected one of your bathing suits and changed. You hoped your mom wouldn’t drink too much and embarrass herself at dinner. You also hoped your dad was smart enough not to bring a side piece around until after she passed out. It could be a little entertaining though if your brother ran his mouth.

Picture, picture, smile for the picture. Pose with your brother, won’t you be a good sister?

“Well, look at you.”

Your heart leapt to your throat when you turned around to see Bucky standing by your bed. He held your cover up in his hand. How the hell did he get in your room so quietly? Why was he there?

“What the hell are you doing?” you demanded.

“Sorry. I was trying to find the bathroom,” he said. A terrible lie, like he didn't even try. “Such a large place, you know. Easy to go through the wrong door.”

“Do you normally pick up garments that don’t belong to you when you’re 'lost'?” you asked, trying to take it from him.

He pulled his hand out of reach. “Not normally, but I couldn’t resist,” he said, not hiding the lust in his eyes as they landed on your chest and slowly drifted down. “You know, you have a pretty fucked up family.”

“Tell me something I don't know,” you scoffed.

Everyone thinks that we're perfect. Please don't let them look through the curtains.

“Allow me,” he offered as his gaze flickered back to your face.

“No, thanks,” you said, attempting to grab the cover up again as he narrowed his eyes.

"Turn around,” he ordered, his voice deeper and gruffer than before. “I won't tell you twice.”

Tell, not ask.

You hoped your trembling wasn't noticeable when you turned and faced the mirror, having to look at his reflection as he slowly walked up behind you. He was handsome, you couldn’t deny that, and large. He could overpower you easily.

“This is such a beautiful color on you. Must drive all the boys crazy when you wear it. Also must be why your daddy keeps you locked up as much as he can,” he said more to himself than to you as he ran a gloved finger down your side. “But I’m not a boy, am I?”

“He doesn’t keep me locked up,” you whispered, unsure of why you were arguing. Maybe it would distract you from his touch.

He brought his mouth to your ear, his eyes locked with yours in the mirror. “You think because you live on your own that you’re free? That you aren’t watched at all times?” He asked, chuckling when you shivered again. “You may be your daddy's princess, but you'll be mine soon enough.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I make your dad a lot of money. He owes me.” He straightened up and slipped the fabric over your shaking frame. “As much as I hate to cover up such a beautiful piece of art, I may lose control if I don't,” he said, as if he had the right to do so. “Keep your door unlocked for me tonight.”

“I won't-”

He had a hand around your throat, but didn't squeeze. “You will,” he said, kissing your temple. “And we'll see if you can keep quiet.”

Love and thanks for participating in Ficlet Friday! ❤️ And this one may be fun to continue.

[thatswife]

Lifeguard Steve fucks around way too much. For one, he's wearing unnaturally short shorts. Billy groans, shielding his eyes. Heather rolls hers. "You're not fooling anyone," she says, rubbing another layer of sunscreen on her fair skin. "Quit making heart-eyes at my cousin. It's weird."

He groans louder, shushing her. "I'm not doing that. He's not following Hank's dress code! There's no way those shorts are part of the uniform. They're his fucking track shorts!"

Heather, torn between snickering at her co-worker's plight and gagging, gets up to take Steve's spot. "And you know this how? More importantly... why? It's a wonder you even passed junior year with nothing but Harrington on your brain." She walks off before Billy can say anything.

"They're track shorts," he repeats, silently fuming in the scorching sun. Steve makes his way to a pool chair with an umbrella, and sprawls out on it like he's at home. His shorts roll up, tightening around his crotch. Jeez, how big is that thing? Nope, nope, I'm not thinking about this. I'm at work. Billy grabs a broom and starts sweeping some trash, gripping the handle so hard his hands start to hurt. Think happy thoughts. If Harrington gets up again, you can push him in the pool. He'll never know what hit him, and you wouldn't have to look at his stupid, long legs. "Stupid," Billy says out loud, and looks around to make sure no one heard him. "You're being stupid. If you do that, you'll get fired for sure."

His eyes automatically find Harrington, now on the other side of the pool, talking to some girls. He's not jealous. They won't be into a guy with shorts like that. No freaking way. Steve looks his way, blinks at the intensity of Billy's glare, then eases into this goofy, sly smirk that's gone in seconds. Must've imagined it. Wishful thinking. Still, he can't help but consider about twelve different ways to screw up Steve's chances. I could splash him. Ruin his annoying, over-gelled hair. Pull him into the pool. Steve goes back to flirting, his voice ringing in Billy's ears.

"My shift ends at 3. Maybe we can-"

One of the girls exchanges a look with her friends and giggles. Billy clamps a hand over his own mouth. It's the shorts, isn't it. Regretting them now, Harrington? He takes the opportunity to push past Steve, his fingertips grazing Steve's arm. He laughs, making sure the taller boy hears it. Steve gives him one of those dead-eyed, tired glares. Yeah, he's the one for me, Billy thinks to himself, puckering his lips at Steve. "That's rough, man."

"Don't you have a job to get done or something?" Steve sighs, his tongue darting out to lick his thin, chapped lips.

I bet he tastes like vanilla. Usually not my type. "I'm not the one flirting here."

Heather, popping up out of nowhere, looks from Billy to her cousin and shakes her head, lips twisting into a pained grimace. "Get a room, you two. This is getting hard to watch."

Billy drops the broom-fuck, forgot about that motherfucker- on his foot and curses loudly. He's never been more grateful that Steve's laughing at him. "So, Steve," he says suddenly, feeling bold. "You get off at three, right?"

"Why, you interested? Have to get in line, then."

Billy grins, his cheekbones smarting. "Does that mean-"

"Shut up before I change my mind. We're just going out for burgers, because I forgot to bring lunch, so don't get the wrong idea," Steve huffs in annoyance, shoving his hands into his pockets to pull out a stick of gum.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Yeah, yeah. Quit smiling like that, you're freaking me out."

[dangermousie]

Hello please I love your blog. Please can you recommend me to shows that feel period especially when it come to women. I mean period wife like the prisoner of beauty. I know you love war but please something more domestic

Thank you!!!

I will not be recommending war-centric dramas (or politics-centric, like The Advisors Alliance or Qin Dynasty) but those usually have more period appropriate depictions of women because they are not the focus/target audience; a lot of female centric dramas are targeted to a female audience and, understandably, a lot of it does not want to watch period appropriate behavior but women in battle, women triumphing and girlbossing, proclaiming feminism and monogamy. Don't get me wrong, I am team feminism and monogamy and female triumphs in RL, but it usually is out of place in a period narrative or, if it's not, looks quite different than the modern counterparts.

OK, harem dramas are your best bet, it's hard to be too modern in a harem: The Empress of China, the Story of Yanxi Palace, Zhen Huan, Legend of Ruyi, Empresses in the Palace (if you want an older drama) all center on the harem - the women in them can be terrifying and smart (Empress of China follows Wu Zetian, for example) but by definition of the genre, they do not have modern attitudes. I am not the world's biggest fan of this genre as I find it too depressing for my tastes but even I adored Yanxi, the one genuinely imo happy ending drama of them all in this list.

The Story of Minglan is both my favorite cdrama ever, and has a period appropriate heroine at the center - Minglan is smart and wants a good marriage, but she thinks of it in period appropriate terms: she wants respect and domestic power, not love (though she gets it all), and never contemplates running away and joining the army or being the sole wife (though she ends up as one) etc.

The Sword and the Brocade - it can get a little ahistorical in terms of FL thinking a divorce would be easier than it actually would be, but it's mostly really good in the arranged marriage to love set up, where it's a story of two awkward kind strangers and how they navigate marriage, including his harem or restriction on women's activities (she opens a sewing workshop for refugee women and even then almost creates a scandal!)

If you want old and don't mind early Republican era, Four Women Conflict. Also Nothing Gold Can Stay, where it's about a merchant woman but feels period appropriate (instead of too many dramas where the woman is doing so well just because hot men help her as she proclaims her independence.)

I am not the world's biggest fan of A Dream of Splendor, and it does sanitize brothel workers (no way no how would the heroine be a virgin) but a lot of the attitudes about class and marriage (or lack of marriage) are on point.

Under the Moonlight - in the running for my fave cdrama this year, this is a lowkey mystery/slice of life and FL is a former courtesan (who escaped and was freed before she was sold to her first client) and its look at women in general is very realistic (but also men, and class divisions, and superstition etc.)

The Virtuous Queen of Han - a sort of AU of Wei Zifu's life, this is half romance half harem drama, and I found it quite period appropriate. In general, older dramas are better for this, imo.

ETA: Riverside Code at Qingming Festival - it centers around a middle class middle aged couple being drawn into murder and conspiracy, and it is genuinely a lovely look at a part of society dramas usually leave alone; the wife's portrayal is great.

I am sure there is more, and I am gonna throw this open, but that's all that came to the top of my head atm.

[out-there-tmblr]

WIP: Zaundads2EB (12)

***

As far as Vander's concerned, he's handling this whole thing pretty well. Maybe he's a little short tempered, but that's mostly because he's tired. It's hard to sleep in a big, empty bed; after an hour of tossing and turning, it's better to get up and work on the upstairs rooms. But he still serves at the bar and goes with Benzo to the docks, and lugs crates back to the market. He still works a few days a week in the mine, pounding into bedrock until it cracks under the pressure of his fists.

And when he's gritting his teeth, swallowing bitter fury because everyone else in the bar is laughing and having fun (how dare they enjoy their lives when Silco isn't here?), that's when Vander signs up for another fight.

The money still isn't worth it. A hundred bronze doesn't compare to the cost of lumber and steel pipes, to the welding equipment they had to buy so the greasers could build pumps. He's not doing it for the money.

He's doing it for the buzz of worry at the back of his head. The ache in his jaw from clenching his teeth. The violence he can feel bubbling beneath his skin, waiting to strike out at the next person who looks at him funny. It helps to be able to take all that boiling frustration and channel it through his fists. To lash out, to hit muscle and bone, to hear the heavy thud of another body hit the ground.

Occasionally they land a punch on Vander, but it's not often and it's not many. It's still strangely satisfying to feel that sharp bloom of pain, to be unable to think of anything but the sting in his side and the fight in front of him.

He's starting to get popular. He has his own stupid nickname, the Hound of the Underground, and he hasn't lost a fight yet.

***

"Why don't you lie down," Kane says softly, like Vander's a wet bedraggled kitten she found in an alley. "Let me ease your worries for a while."

"It's a nice offer," Vander says, trying not to growl the words out. He's dropping off an order to Babette's workers, been told by Felicia to get some fresh air before he starts slapping customers around. He should book another fight soon. "But it's not why I'm here."

"Free of charge," Kane adds with a smile. She drags teasing fingers down Vander's arm and Vander has to control the urge to step back. "Since I like you."

"I like you too," Vander says, keeping his feet rooted to the spot. "That's the problem."

"It shouldn't be." She looks up at him with grey-blue eyes, with an expression far too soft for this place, for the man Vander is these days. "You look like you need to let off a little steam. I could help."

Vander shakes his head. "I like you, Kane. I'll be sad when Silco gets back and guts you for touching what's his."

Her blonde hair is in ringlets today; it bounces when she laughs. "The possessive type, huh?"

"Not possessive, just…" Vander thinks of Silco trying to distract him from a small hand buried beneath rock. Silco insisting on spending that first night alone in their shack in the mine. Silco wrapping his bruised knuckles in that cave-in and after he'd beaten a Piltie, Silco's sharp tongue and dark scowl and the careful, tender touch of his fingers. Vander swallows. "He protects what he's claimed."

"Oh, honey," Kane breathes out, reaching out to curl her hands around his. "He's a smart one. He'll find a way back out to you."

Vander stares at the ground, terrified his expression will show too much. They both know being smart is like being strong or fast; it gives you a fighting chance but it's not a guarantee.

"Come here," Kane says, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and hugging him. It's all wrong. She's shorter than Silco, soft generous curves instead of Silco's lean lines and unforgiving angles. She smells candy-sweet but he still tucks his head down and holds on, just to feel a warm, living body in his arms.

***

The weeks keep passing. Violet starts crawling, impatient to explore the world. She drags her belly as she moves, smudging dirt all down the front of her hand sewn baby clothes. Connol jokes about adding an extra panel to reduce the friction and Felicia says the last thing they need is a faster baby.

Vander laughs along and tries not to imagine the unimpressed glance Silco would send his way.

Vander tries to ignore the time passing by. He's trying not to count in weeks or months, but focus on the next thing to get done: to find a basin for the bathroom upstairs, to fit doors to those rooms, to move the bed upstairs. There are new miners moving into the Lanes every few weeks, so their little town keeps spilling outwards and soon they'll start building upwards too. Ships keep bringing in supplies and they keep selling and ordering more.

Vander keeps going and the ghost of Silco haunts him a little less each day. Until he turns a corner and remembers Silco leaning against the wall, notebook open in his hands, dark hair falling across his face, light catching on his nose and cheek as he muttered about something. Until he glances over in the mine shaft and just for a second, he's expecting to see Silco beside him, not Felicia's braid swinging as she pounds into the bedrock.

Every time, the loss stabs through him sharp and fast. Every time, it catches him by surprise. He's had enough time to get used to this. It shouldn't catch him off guard and leave him stunned.

He doesn't hear back from the prison but he sends another two packages for Silco. Hopes they get there, hopes he's not making Silco some kind of target by sending them. He trades a few sailors for old books, and includes those in the packages, along with jerky and dice and playing cards.

He keeps hoping for word form Stillwater, but like Silco's ghost, that hope fades a little more every day.

***

[indigo-brainspark]

Misfits!AU Young Avengers: Proof of Concept

"This is your chance," the probation worker droned. "To do something good. Give back to the community..."

Billy had his hands buried in his pockets to hide the shaking, hood pulled low so that nobody from school might see him. He glanced at the five other people in his group.

He didn't know what he had been expecting. Stereotypical delinquents who had no intention of cleaning up their act? Other kids like him, who'd just made a mistake??

It was a bit of both. The blond boy who wouldn't look out of place in a football team stood with his shoulders slumped, looking extremely uncomfortable. The tall girl with designer purple shades was fiddling with her smartwatch.

"There're some people out there who think you're trash!"

What sort of pep talk was this?

The boy with shaved head who had been here and ready before Billy fidgeted slightly. The sophomore girl with her hair in a ponytail had rolled back her jumpsuit's sleeve to write on her arm.

The probation worker soldiered on. "This is your chance to prove them wrong, by-"

"Shit, are you still going?" a new voice burst in. A lean boy with light blond hair and yellow sunglasses haphazardly balanced on his nose wandered onto the scene. "I thought I'd come late to skip the lecture and get right to the hard labour."

The probation worker gave a world-weary sigh. "Shepherd. Got my hopes up when I didn't see you for a year straight."

'Shepherd' laughed, sharp and mocking. He was wobbling slightly. Clearly hungover, yet no one called him out on it. "Nah, man, that's just how long they were able to keep me in juvie."

"Wish this stunt sent you back in," the probation worker grumbled. "Just get fucking changed."

-----

"So, uh, what'd you do?" Teddy nervously asked the boy with his hoodie pulled over his head. Billy, maybe. They didn't exactly do an icebreaker before they started shoveling garbage.

Tommy called out from several meters away. "What haven't I done is a better question!"

"Stayed quiet for thirty minutes?" Kate jabbed, grinning even as she poked at an ant-infested takeaway box.

Tommy laughed, "You giving me a good reason to, Richy Rich?"

Billy angled his head towards Teddy, quietly answering the original question while the two bantered. "Got busted at a party with drinks. It- it was a mistake. I wasn't even supposed to be there."

"It was trespassing for me," Teddy confided.

-----

"Damn," Kate drawled with a wicked smile, the encriminating report in her hand. "Black market steroids, Eli? Didn't think you were that type of guy."

Eli stared at her. "I didn't know that at the time, okay?! Where did you even find that-"

"Doping? This guy?? How scandalous!" Tommy snatched it from her.

Eli gritted his teeth. "Not everyone's in national-level sports. There was no doping scandal."

Tommy's face twitched. A crack in the facade Eli took too much pleasure in seeing. It wasn't fair, how he never seemed to care. Like pissing away a career was no big deal.

"Fuck off, Eli. A guy's gotta keep his aura of mystique," Cassie jumped in.

And Cassie and Kate were no better. Living separated from the consequences, except for whatever they did to end up here.

------

"It's just- such bullshit," Cassie vented, hugging her knees. "So he's rich and famous and rubbing shoulders with heroes. Whoopdedo. I just- I just want my dad, you know?"

Kate made sympathetic noises and took a drag of her vape.

"And he barely looks at me, except when I screw up. He keeps saying he wants me to be better. To not repeat his mistakes. But maybe I don't have the spark that got him into Pym Labs. Maybe I only got the part of which was a screw-up."

"My parents don't talk to me even when I screw up," Kate finally said. "So you have a better relationship than me. Does that make you feel better?"

Cassie pouted, and Kate was struck with how separated this was from her usual whip-smart humor.

------

It started as a storm cloud that came out of nowhere, roiling with green and blue lightning more vivid than Cassie had ever seen.

"Okay, guys," the highly disagreeable probation worker stepped in. "We should head inside the community center. This wasn't in the forecast and that could dry lightning-"

It was upon them in seconds. Before they were able to get the doors unlocked, lightning crashed down, and everything went bright green.

------

"We had some weird weather," Billy told his mom on the way back. He'd changed in a daze. Everyone had looked out of it after waking up from that lightning burst, with the storm nowhere to be found.

"Oh?" she asked. "I suppose it is an unusually cloudless day."

No. No, that couldn't be right...

His skin was still tingling from the strike.

-----

"Anyone seen Cassie?" Kate asked nonchalantly, two hours in and no sign of Cassie.

"She's bunking, good for her," Tommy nodded, unconcerned.

Kate glared at him.

-----

Heavy footfalls were behind Tommy. In front was a side door into the community theater, locked except for when volunteers went out to smoke.

This merry hatchet-wielding chase had gone all the way around the park, and Tommy strangely didn't feel out of breath at all. Really, he felt that he could go faster.

But he didn't, because he'd been taught to pace himself. Not use all the gas in the tank when it was a war of attrition.

His hands slammed against the side door. It was locked.

"Dammit, dammit, no!" he beat his fists against the door. Through the narrow glass panel, he could see the others taking their break. Come on, Kate, you could've been careless after your nicotine beak!

The footsteps stopped. Silence for a second, then a scream of rage with the underlying schwing of a hatched-

And Tommy fell forward, into the hallway.

He scrambled further in to get away from the probation officer. Only to turn around and still find the door locked tight.

Everyone was standing at attention.

"You- you-" Teddy sputtered.

"Figure that out when that madman isn't trying to kill me!" Tommy pointed at the door, which the probation officer was hacking through with terrifying efficiency.

"What'd you do to piss him off so bad?" Billy wondered. "I mean, you're an annoying person by nature but-"

"I'm going to swirlie you, you little-!" Tommy elbowed him in the gut.

The probation officer barged in, and everyone backed away to give him a clear path to Tommy. Fucking traitors, all of them.

It served them right, really, when Tommy didn't turn out to be his only target, and the man swung for Eli, who reacted defensively and threw his hands up to push the man away.

Eli was a slim guy. Worked out, but nothing compared to Teddy. But the probation officer slammed into the opposing wall anyway, with a resounding crunch.

He landed slumped over, head tilted at an unnatural angle. No one approached, even once the hatchet was out of his hands.

Billy had to reach forward to look him over with trembling hands. But the diagnosis was what everyone feared when they realized he wasn't moving. "He's dead."

Tommy whistled. "Those are some crazy steroids."

Kate, his partner in discord, punched him.

Eli fell to the ground, staring at his hands.

[curse-d-owl]

This time, I want to ask questions 1, 2, 3, 7, 8, and 12 for the best Golden Deer students: Raphael and Marianne!

Sorry i know this has been long overdue. It took some time writing everything down + life was a bit hectic. That aside let me begin answering your questions.

Raphael

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

He's one of my favorite 3h characters and he deserve more recognition from the fanbase besides being known for the comic relief meathead. He's friendly, sociable, positive, supportive, selfless, loves to help others and looks out for other people and above all else he's a hard worker. He embodies the saying "no pain, no gain" perfectly when it comes to physically exercise. Hes also willing to step out of his comfort zone and practice hiding his presence in his support with Shamir.

While he does have a lot of funny and entertaining support conversations he's also a lot smarter than people give him credit for. While he isnt an intellectual genius he is does possess emotional and social intelligence that even the smartest characters lack.

He doesn't resent neither Ignatz nor Lorenz for the indirect actions of their parents and doesn't want reperations from neither of them cause he feels that he'd create bad blood that doesn't exist in his eyes, as opposed to Ingrid ( who's not that smart ) who irrationally and childishly hates the people of Duscur for the actions of a few and glorifies the genocide they suffered from while giving the villains of Faerghus a free pass from the same standard she unjustly holds Duscur to.

He knows that asking for help doesn't mean you're weak nor immature while Lysithea believed in that lie until Raphael helped her overcome it.

He tells Byleth that they need to be productive in order to properly cope with the death of their parent just like he did with his.

And he goes above and beyond because he lost his parents when he was young and wants to provide for his little sister to the best of his ability. I made a post before but he's essentially your average shonen protagonist.

Also this artwork of him in particular is godlike.

Raphael is great.

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

His support conversations.

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

They lean in too much with the comedy. I get that he's supposed to be a comic relief character but having deep moments is important too. If you took these quotes out of context you'd believe he wasn't in the middle of a war.

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

The fan art

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

Only treating him like a joke character.

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

He's great friends with Dedue despite their lack of support conversations. Also him and the Golden Deers beat up that repulsive crest scholar for attacking Marianne.

Marianne

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

She's also one of my favorites 3h characters. She's Kind, compassionate, reserved, selfless and devoted. She is pious, has a deep affinity with animals and can understand them without communicating and she's willing to help even if she feels like she's obligated to do so cause of her perceived atonement. I love seeing her go from hating herself to loving herself and the friends that helped her appreciate life.

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

Her caring nature

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

Goes for all 3h characters but she suffers from "Edelgard can do no wrong" syndrome and never hold her accountable because the devs like her that much.

And this isn't directly her fault but i also don't like how people chastise Marianne for having trouble socializing and cooperating. Her lack of confidence and social skills stem from the abuse she faced cause of her crest. Someone like her needs to properly heal the root of her issues before she can patch up these flaws but instead she gets chastised one way or another for a problem that's in the surface.

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

She has a lot of fanartist that draw amazing art pieces for her.

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

Being glued to Hilda and praising a mediocre ship. The first 2 support conversations involve Hilda letting Marianne do the dirty work while she slacks off, finds out she made a worse mess, takes responsibility and tells Marianne she owes her sweets. It's a mediocre friendship at best and yet people see a deep romance that i don't see in canon. In Houses at least.

Their hopes support is a lot better since Hilda is selfless, covers for Marianne's blunders and compliments her talents. The end of their A support reveals they actually have a decent friendship that can lead to a romance as opposed to Houses.

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

I know it's a repeat but she's great friends with Mercedes despite their lack of support convos.

[arvadthecursed]

I am so so worn down. I have to just get through tonight and tomorrow but I'm overwhelmed and I want to go home and cry.

I try so hard and label everything and try to make the lab neat, tidy, orderly, etc and today me and the other night shift girl got an email from our supervisor saying, basically, it's not enough and listing everything we're doing wrong. And like, she said she just wants to catch these little issues and fix them, but I feel like I'm not doing enough and it will never ever be enough. I come back from my six days off and everything is undone that I've done. I try to fix things and I feel like I'm just a fuck up and even though I enjoy what I do, I feel like I'm messing up and I'm not smart or good enough to do this job. I am worried I will fail and get fired and then I'll be a disappointment to everyone.

And I know I'm catastrophizing rn but I had a tough night last night with a big trauma coming in and really I'd just like to be home. But I can't. There's no one to cover for me. There are only 2 night shift workers. I don't want to bother my night shift coworker on her days off. She deserves her rest too.

Idk. I'm sorry for rambling but I just need to get this off my chest bc I've been on the verge of tears for about an hour and a half. I try so hard! I want to do a good job! I really do!!! I just. Idk. I'm probably just extremely emotional bc of last night and not sleeping great. I am so ready for Wednesday night to be over so I can rest.

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 397: Cat n Mouse, p8 (Interlude: Monkey Business)

Randi Mongillo had let herself into the side door of the building which housed what was, still, for now,  Far Horizons Medical Associates. The building was dark but it was not empty; below ground, men stirred. The lights flickered on as she strode the hallways of the old practice and made her way through it, to the main elevator in the new atrium. Once inside she punched in the code into the newly installed keypad before hitting the button for Sub-Basement 3  where all their little monkeys lived.

Randi did not want to be here, and anyone could read that off her face. In general she wasn't a big fan of being told what to do, and hated the idea of being anyone's lackey. If anyone else had asked her to leave home, drive to work at night just so they could have their own personal cleanup service she would have told them to shove it. Missy though…Missy was different. She’s dumb as a brick, don't get me wrong, Randi would tell you, but she’s also…kinda the heart of everything. Randi owed her a lot - for this job, for a lot of her own personal ‘improvements’, for her position in what looked to be shaping up into a new society  - which made it pretty hard to say no to her, even when she really wanted to. Like tonight.

I could really go for another bliss right now. Missy blowing that little fucker could really take the edge off, Randi thought just as the elevator reached its destination and the doors began to open. She’d grown used to her evenings being peppered with bliss. It would come on in waves, crashing into her and making her more, more, more every night. The echoes of that twerp making their world just a little bit better would ripple through her body as she felt him give in to his urges, give in to Melissa. It was honestly the best, and - if she had to admit it - kind of addictive.

Randi walked out into Sub-Basement 3 and through a few metal detectors before holding up her Evolution Pharmaceuticals supplied keycard and entering the door into the administrative area of ‘the Barracks.’ Randi looked out from behind bulletproof reinforced glass on to the ‘residents’ of this little ‘community’ of males (at least that was what they were calling it officially. To Randi and most of the girls, Sub-Basement 3 was “The Fap Dungeon”).

The large communal room in front of her was filled with them, men of various ages, some in their old clothes, some in the brown coveralls that had been purchased for them as a kind of simple uniform for manual laborers. They were  largely the construction workers who had been working on the expansion, with a handful of homeless and the odd pathetic loner thrown in. They were all aimlessly milling about, huddling in small groups, or watching the tv's on the walls. The teaser interview for Channel 5 had obviously been put on loop, and it was playing over and over and over again. Many couldn't keep their eyes off it. The pathetic, braindead little zombies, Randi sniggered. If she were to listen closely she might be able to hear some of them quietly moaning or whining. Some others were repeating little mantras as they watched, over and over…

Randi walked up to the microphone at the front of the security booth. Looking out into the crowd of them, she noticed that many had shaved their heads. She also knew the place was empty of any female staff. There was security that was going to be assigned here, part of the group of girls that was supposed to start next week. In the meantime, Randi figured it might be smart not to cause a riot.

But, fuck it right? I mean…where's the fun in that? If I have to be here dealing with these apes I might as well have a bit of fun with it. Give them something to really live for.

Randi hit the button to activate the intercom with an unnaturally wide and unnerving smile spread across her face.

“Hey shit stains!” Randi yelled into the intercom causing an awful howling sound as the intercom crackled to life with the power of her voice. “Yeah, I'm talking to you douchebags. I need some of you to come with me and clean up a mess outside. Any volunteers?”

Her eyes shone in amusement as she watched the group en masse, all these ‘big strong men’ shrink away from her and avert their gazes. These simps, breathing in all these artificial pheromones of Melissa’s pumped directly onto the floor were just too predictable, so easy to manipulate.

“Aww, are you guys too tired? Is going outside just too difficult? Too scary?” she asked snidely. She had used up the last drop of her patience much earlier today. Otherwise she might have at least a dollop of pity for these saps. “That’s fine. I guess I can find someone else to clean Melissa’s house.”

That got their attention.

Randi watched as all their eyes shot up. Melissa, these days, was the person they thought about the most. In fact, Randi knew she was almost all they thought about. Any man here would give his left nut just for the chance to get closer to Melissa, to be helpful to her, to be noticed. The other nut they’d save for a touch, or just a smile, but they’d give themselves willingly for this woman that was beginning to become something more than human in their eyes.

They, in fact, would do anything.

“I thought one of you would give a shit about her. Oh well, guess I'll be going now-”

“Wait!” The panicked voices of one of the men cried out as he ran forward, towards Randi’s glass enclosure. He was raising his hand. “I’ll go!”

“M-me too!”

“Me too!”

“What are you talking about?” one of them argued with the other, “Everyone knows you can't do shit! I should go.”

“Fuck you! I should go!”

Randi watched as the room erupted in an all-out brawl, each fighting for the opportunity to clean up Melissa’s little fuck session at her mom’s house while she put her boyfriend to bed. It was honestly hilarious. 

Blood was spilled and teeth were lost as they fought amongst themselves for a few minutes. Soon enough, though, Randi became bored. Watching them kick the shit out of each other was fun and all, but honestly, she just wanted to get the fuck out of here and maybe get the chance to go home and sleep.

Randi opened the reinforced door that separated the security chamber from the common area and walked into the room. She grabbed three of the men from the grand melee and pulled them out into the hallway before anyone else could notice. Then she went back in and picked off several more until she was satisfied.

“Alright you clods are it, ‘the chosen ones’,” she said, sarcasm probably lost on the doltish males in their excitement, “You,  beardy - you can drive? You’ll take one of the construction vans. They’ve got tools, right? I’ll drive in my car, you follow me. We’ll get in there, you’ll clean stuff up, and you’ll fix whatever you can.”

“Ummm…” one of them began, looking suddenly embarrassed to speak, “we’re driving by ourselves?”

Oh yeah, oh crap. Pheromones. They know they’ll need me with them. “Fine. I’ll drive the fucking van.” Means I’ll need to leave my car here. 

The men nodded appreciatively, as if excited for the opportunity.

“And, when we’re there, don't you dare make a fucking sound you hear me? She’ll be upstairs resting.  If any of you does anything to draw attention to yourselves, or disturb her,  I’ll bite your fucking head off, kick you out onto the streets myself. Got it?”

“Y-yes Ms. Mongillo,”  one of them spoke up while the others silently nodded. “t-thank you for recognizing us, and giving us the chance to-”

“Pfft-  You aren’t special, you're just the closest ones I could grab. Plus, you’re men. You’re all basically the same anyway, weak, shit for brains. Now shut up and let’s get going so maybe at some point I can go to bed.”

==========================================

sorry for the delay, tumblr. been away.

thanks to ResistanceIsFutile for writing this one; it’s really his baby.

[qqueenofhades]

Think what strikes me about something like "we can't vote because the system is rigged! Ban the electoral college!" is the big underlying implication of it.

That there is no multiple solutions or paths, only the one correct path and everything else is worthless.

And that's incredibly frustrating because there are two levels of problems with it:

is the utter dismissiveness of anything other than their specific solution, which ignores how any degree of positive change cannot occur with only just ONE idea, it's usually the result of many ideas that lead to change.

The fact that it feels like they're skipping every step in between the current situation to this end result, or actively fixating on themselves having the correct solution, but only by literally getting everything in between completely wrong in the process.

Like, the latter point in particular is like a complex math equation: Just because you got the right answer doesn't mean you can just ignore every difficult step in between, or just assume that all of the WRONG processes become validated retroactively because you stumbled into the correct answer. You'd literally get failed and be forced to redo the problem if you tried that shit in math.

I saw a poll the other day claiming that support for abolishing the Electoral College had now reached 65% of all Americans. Now, I take all polls, whether good or bad, with a grain of salt, but this does reflect a growing awareness that the EC is a horrible racist anti-democratic dinosaur only applied to the presidential election and only used for electing Republicans who don't win the nationwide popular vote, and that there's a genuine groundswell of support to abolish it. See the National Popular Vote Interstate Compact, which could possibly collect enough state-by-state ratifications to go into effect into 2028 (in the best-case scenario). So even all the bitching about how "the system is rigged" (which. WE KNOW! WE KNOW! There's not a single Democratic voter going to vote like WOW I LOVE THE ELECTORAL COLLEGE CAN'T WAIT FOR MY VOTE TO DEPEND ON HOW MUCH IT COUNTS THANKS TO THE ELECTORAL COLLEGE WHEE OLD DEAD WHITE GUYS!) blatantly ignores that a possible seismic change IS possibly in the offing, because people put in the work to make it happen!!! The fact that the EC might soon be superseded or disempowered is FUCKING MONUMENTALLY HUGE!!! It has existed literally since the beginning of America and arbitrated every single presidential election!!! And let me tell you, the people working to make that change and fundamentally reshape American democracy are absolutely not the Online Leftists, whose grasp of civic and political theory starts and ends at "wah the system is rigged I do not vote I am very smart!"

This also reminds me of the recent idiots in my notes complaining that Biden was a) not "genuine" in supporting the striking auto workers, that b) Don't You Know He Broke The Rail Strike (the follow-up where he gave the railworkers what they most wanted with that strike was conveniently never mentioned), or c) that he wasn't "doing it for the right reasons" (whatever the fuck that means). Which accurately reflects their belief that the way you do politics, or praxis, or anything at all, is just by having the Really Goodest Mostest Purest Intentions really hard, and that's it. Like. Aside from the fact that it's impossible to prove why Biden is privately motivated to do anything, we have a long track record demonstrating that he is a person of genuine Catholic faith who has been moving more and more to the left overall, and has been the most pro-union, pro-labor president in American history. So first of all, complaining that "he's not GENUINE!!!!" in supporting the strikers is impossible to prove, and contradicted by actual evidence. But the Online Leftists gotta feel More Gooder Than Him somehow, so.

Likewise: as I said in one of my previous posts about Hillary Clinton: I do not give a fuck if she was privately the most Neoliberal Corporate Centrist Shill Ever To Shill (and as I also said, none of those words means what the Online Leftists think they do). I do not care about the American monarch president's personal feelings, unless they reflect directly on the policy that they make and the real-world effects that it has. I don't care if Clinton killed puppies (or dreamed about killing puppies, which for the thoughtcrime police is equally bad), as long as she appointed 3 new liberal justices to SCOTUS and throughout the courts, instead of the hacks that Trump forced onto the bench and literally everything else he did. In the same vein, Biden could secretly be like "hahahaha fuck all workers BIG CORPORATIONS FOR LYFE but I gotta support the workers and get them their rights so they'll vote 4 meeee" (not that I actually think he is, but still) and hold onto your hankies, children: I DO NOT CARE! Because the tangible real-world effects of that policy that he is working hard on making results in a better economy for those workers and substantial redistribution of capital away from the oligarchs for the first time in a generation! Not to mention, I kind of like the idea that a president decides to make himself most appealing to workers instead of bosses! But for the Online Leftists, if this action isn't done with the Sufficiently Pure Motives, it is Wrong and Bad and Not Good Enough and Blah Blah Biden Sekrit Republican.

Anyway. Yes. That. The end.

[theyoungprinceling]

The first time Ling was drugged he was twelve.

After lunch and studies he decided to go see Lan Fan on the training field. It was much more entertaining to watch her than to stay inside. That, and on occasion he was able to spar with her and get some exercise in. Although she usually beat him most times...and got flustered and apologized soon after she got him on the ground. But Ling would laugh it off because it was just nice to spend time outside with her.

On the path there he started to feel odd, groggy. His limbs began to feel heavy and it was difficult to walk straight, then it was like he was walking through mud. His first thought was that he didn't eat enough, despite how big the lunch was. It had been a couple hours since then though. Maybe that was it. Or his blood sugar was really working against him.

He didn't even make it halfway to the field before he stumbled and almost faceplanted into the ground. A woman- he didn't even notice he was being followed- caught him just before he hit the ground. Everything still spun.

The woman said, "You look sick. Why don't I take you back inside?"

Inside sounded great. Ling needed more food or simply to sit or lay down for a while. He tried to look up but the action made him dizzy so he kept his eyes on the ground.

Ling said, "Yes, that sounds nice. Thank you, ma'am."

The woman adjusted her grip on him and held him up in a more comfortable way for both of them, holding his arm over her shoulder and her other arm around his waist instead of both her arms wrapped around his middle.

She was just a worker around the palace, Ling had no reason not to trust her. He could barely move on his own anyway and his vision was so blurry he couldn't see where to go. He followed her with no resistance.

They had perhaps only walked for a few minutes before everything was a whirlwind. The woman made some noise, Ling was headed to the ground again, new arms were around him and he was being held up again.

He had a total of five seconds to understand what just happened once he saw the woman on the ground with Fu standing over her. Ling didn't have to have clear vision to know he was angry. He didn't have to have clear vision to know he was being held up by Lan Fan.

This was another kidnapping attempt but...that didn't explain why he felt so odd.

"I don't feel so well," Ling mumbled in response to whatever it was Lan Fan said.

He felt safe in Lan Fan's arms so he let himself pass out.

XXX

When Ling started to come around he couldn't help but groan at his headache. A hammer may as well be banging against his head. The inside of his mouth also felt strange, dry and his tongue was heavy. It reminded him of when he mixed food together that should not have been mixed. His limbs were heavy.

He exhaled slowly and opened his eyes, immediately wanting to close them because of the light overhead, but turned his head to the side instead. Everything was blurred together for a few seconds but the more Ling scanned the area, the clearer his vision became.

He was in his room, laying on his bed. Fu sat on a chair next to it and Lan Fan...She sat against the opposite wall reading a book. Ling swallowed hard and attempted to speak but his throat was too dry. Fu, smart man that he was, got the message and already had a glass of water prepared for him.

After Ling finished downing half the glass, his head lifted up slightly by Fu, he felt much more refreshed.

"What happened?" Ling asked. "Why did I feel so weird before?"

"There was an intruder in the palace- the woman who was with you- and she tampered with your food. Forgive me, Young Lord, I hadn't searched the kitchen yet. I was checking the rooms."

Ling frowned, shook his head. "I don't blame you for this, Fu. I should've noticed something was wrong with my food."

Although, everything tasted normal. Nothing was off about it, as far as he can remember. He did eat rather quickly, though...Sometimes he ate so quick he didn't actually taste what he was eating. Maybe that was the problem.

"You wouldn't have noticed," Fu told him. "You don't have to worry about that woman anymore. She was taken to prison."

Ling smiled. "Thank you, Fu. You too, Lan Fan. You're always saving me."

Lan Fan put her book down and walked to the bedside. "It's my vow. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Ling would. He'd like to be able to fight and protect them as well. Fu and Lan Fan were the only people he had in this world. They were his family. He couldn't imagine what life would be like without either of them in it.

"I guess there is one good thing that came from this. I know what it feels like to be drugged now, so I'll know for the future what to look out for."

"It won't happen again, Young Lord," Fu said. "I did a thorough check of everything and questioned everyone while you were resting."

Ling nodded. "I trust you, Fu. Just by the off chance it happens again, I'll know what's happening."

XXX

Ling followed Edward out of the hospital, listening to him complain about the shot he was given and tossing the bag of medication up and down. He didn't expect Ed's question.

"Do drugs work on you?" His best friend's voice was full of skepticism. Ling couldn't blame him for that, all things considered. "You swallow everything so fast. I wouldn't be surprised if you weren't affected..."

Ling placed his hands in his sleeves and shrugged. "You'd be surprised, Ed. You know what they say: anything's possible."

[dollarbin]

Shakey Sundays #39:

Trans, At Last

She could not speak, not to me, nor to anyone else. And she was always in such terrible pain...

I want to wrap up our three-, or maybe it's four-, part exploration of Neil Young's Trans on a fairly serious note. Long before I took up residence in the Dollar Bin and even before I became a teacher, I spent my 20's working with people with disabilities. I served as their social worker, boss, employee, supporter and advocate. At one point I directed programs that included around 100 wheelchair users and around 20 of their aides.

So, while I am blessed to be non-disabled myself and equally blessed to be the parent to three non-disabled children, I do know a little bit about what Neil Young went through in the early 80's when he put his career on autopilot and focused his heart, hands and soul on trying to help his young son Ben, who was born with Cerebral Palsy, find a way to speak and thrive.

I quit my work with adults with physical disabilities 20 years ago when I felt called to teach; but I also quit because I realized that, try as I might, I'd never come close to truly meeting any of those people's needs. In short, I gave up.

And she was one of the 100 people I left behind. I'll call her Jane here as it feels wrong to use her real name. "Jane" was a powerful and brilliant woman in her 40's who could not talk or walk or make any complex needs known. She had no teeth left in her mouth: they had not been removed; rather, they'd all been ground down to the roots by a lifetime of uncontrollable muscle strain, her jaw clamped down hard by both her disability and her fury at the world around her.

I remember our first conversation well. Like all the other non-verbal people at my work she had a communication board: a laminated paper grid with 60 or so black and white cartoon icons, each of them part of a potential message: Me. You. Food. Want. Bathroom. Angry. Please. Some of the boxed icons carried entire phrases, ready to go as needed. I Am In Pain. Leave Me Alone.

The system was simple: you'd stand before them and hold the board up for them to see, then point to each column one at a time, left to right, and wait for a sign. Some would holler wordlessly when you got to the right row; others would nod; Jane would strain every responsive muscle she could access, her body going rigid against her chair's multiple restraints, her eyebrows surging upward. There was no misunderstanding Jane.

Once the column was identified, you'd work your way down it, finger pointed to each icon in turn until you found the single word or phrase they sought. It'd take a few minutes of this work for them to complete a sentence. "I. Need. Help." "I. Angry."

Jane's first sentence for me was a doozy: "I. Not. Stupid."

The implication was clear. While trying to get to know her I was treating her like she was stupid. And she wasn't. She was smart enough to see right through me and then chew me out.

In case you don't know, Cerebral Palsy is related to spinal cord damage, usually from childbirth or pre-birth. For half of the people it affects there is no mental impairment of any kind. Even so, such people often struggle to become educated - for example, Jane could not read. This was not because she was unable to do so; it was because no one had ever taught her.

Jane had spent the decade or so before I showed up with the world's dullest and most insulting job. Six hours a day, five days a week, and 50 or so weeks a year, she watched someone with a mental disability stuff envelopes. That was the whole job.

Occasionally the person she was watching would screw up. Maybe an insert was wrong side up; maybe they'd missed an envelope. If so, it was her job to do her thing: straining every muscle available until one of the able bodied staff members took note and came over to correct the mistake.

This terrible job wasn't unique for Jane, nor was it unique for the person she watched. Indeed, that's how your junk mail was processed 20 years ago. And both Jane and the envelope stuffer made just 30-40 dollars for their work, total.

Sounds pretty bad huh? Well guess what? That 30-40 dollars was the sum total of their annual pay. I'll do the math for you: they each made 2.5 cents an hour.

(Arrangements like this are no longer legal in much of our country. It's crazy that they were ever legal to begin with. After all we supposedly ended slavery 160 years ago.)

Anyway, the good people who hired me to work with Jane and her peers knew this whole thing was evil and pointless. So they tasked me with figuring out what we should do for these people instead. I had no idea! But, happily, I was smart enough to realize who would know what we should do for them: them.

So I asked them. And that led to Jane telling me that she wasn't stupid.

Well, I made a ton of mistakes in the years that followed, and I never really came up with a solution. But we did bring in a ton of the computers these people asked for and we set up some classes they requested and we begged and pleaded with regular old businesses to give them regular old jobs and treat them like human beings. Occasionally a business said yes.

But I couldn't find a job for Jane. She had no tangible skills other than her intelligence and her fearlessness. "What can we do for you?" I'd asked her. "How can we improve your days?" She'd always sigh and go slack in response, her head falling forward. It was her way of saying I don't know.

Then, one day we both figured it out. I honestly don't remember if it was her idea or mine. But there was one thing I was constantly doing in my job and that was hiring new staff people. The pay was terrible and the work was hard so of course there was tons of staff turnover. And so I always had openings to fill and I often, out of desperation, hire someone who was just wrong for the job.

At some point Jane and I both recognized that I needed help. So, we put her in charge of my hiring decisions.

Our system was simple. I'd sit the applicant down, then wheel in Jane, then start asking the questions Jane and I had settled on. Once that was all done I'd dismiss the applicant and turn to Jane with a simple question: should we hire them?

Twice I overruled her. Twice she told me not to hire someone and I did it anyway. Jane didn't care about our staffing shortages; she would rather we had no staff than have anyone around her and her peers who was unworthy or incapable.

The first person I hired despite her no vote turned out to be a sex worker on the side. I've received some wise feedback regarding the language and judgment I used for that person in my original post. So let's just leave it at this: Jane enjoyed telling me "I. Was. Right.You.Wrong." when they lasted less than a month on the job.

It was more of the same with the other poor woman Jane and I disagreed about. She turned out to be a severe alcoholic and wound up in the hospital, dying shortly thereafter. Jane had the decency not to laugh at me about that one.

But I'm supposed to be writing about Neil Young. So let me make the connection: Neil Young wanted to utterly transform his son's life. He wanted to give Ben the joyful independence all humans deserve by coming up with a communication system that was personalized and all-powerful: he wanted to see his son overcome Cerebral Palsy through the "push of a button."

Like Walter Lee Younger, the passionately intense and hopelessly pie-in-the-sky father at the heart of Lorraine Hansberry's A Raisin in the Sun, Neil Young wanted to lift his seemingly doomed child up in his arms and reveal their future as impossibly bright: "Son, I give you the world!"

Neil hired a whole team of people to make it happen. He bought machine after machine and threw himself into hours of daily therapy with Ben. Remote control technology was invented and later patented which allowed Ben to "run the show," operating a whole barn worth of toy trains through that mythical "push of a button".

That was Neil's life in the early 80's. And so it's no wonder that he wrote an entire obscure album about the quest:

But listen: remember what I told you about Jane's role in our hiring decisions? That was one of my few successes. I worked my ass off for a decade and, at the end of it, Jane, and most of her peers, still did not have consistently meaningful and fulfilling lives. They were not "running the show" in the way Neil dreams of in Transformer Man. Jane was still in constant pain. She still could not talk. Every morning when I looked in her eyes I was not electrified with the joy Neil describes in his song and his quest; rather I was burdened with my own failure.

He sings "sooner or later you'll have to see the cause and effect... so many things still left to do but we haven't made it yet." Well, the people I worked with were not kids like Ben; they understood cause and effect far better than you or I ever will. Their disabilities caused them to be marginalized and miserable; their disabilities made them burdens instead of contributors. There were always "so many things still left to do."

But I'm being far too negative. Ben Young, somewhat famously, became an egg farmer. He used a corner of Neil's ranch to let his happy hens run wild in ways that he never could and he delivered their eggs all over the Santa Cruz mountains. And before that he attended the world's very best school for children with Cerebral Palsy, a school founded and funded by his famous parents.

We've covered a lot of ground in nearly 40 Shakey posts. I think I've demonstrated that Neil is plenty of things, all of them delightful: he's unhinged, unpredictable, utterly independent and capable of every mood from the spiritual to the boneheaded, often in the same song.

But I think his quest with Ben and the story behind Trans shows what is perhaps Neil's most admirable quality. He loves so deeply. The planet, his cars, his son: Neil Young is fiercely, maybe even insanely, dedicated to protecting and positively transforming the people and things that he loves.

I'm not fit to compare myself to Neil in this sense. But, more than once, I hosted an after hours staff party at my house and Jane always showed up, ready to sit in the middle, guzzling a cocktail or two through a straw. She was a fully accepted and vital member of our earnest team. I didn't help her much. Rather, I let her help me. And that's a transformation I'm proud of.

I saw Jane just one more time after I left that job. I invited her to my high school and asked her to speak to my students about people with disabilities, about their struggle and their perspectives. She showed up with a new communication device that day, a computer in place of the old board. She operated it through a head switch she could strain to wack, thereby initiating the speech that she'd prepped.

"Hello," her Trans voice began, a big grin on her face as she caught my eye in the back. "Let me start by telling you what I told your teacher the first time we ever met. I told him I was not what he or you think I am even though I am in this chair and even though I need this computer to talk for me. I am not stupid."

[plutoasteroids]

Hello, I'm C, she/her, interested in men, he/him. If your free readings are open, may i ask for one please? I'm a bit old and I've been single for over a decade or two due to circumstances. However I do want to have a forever partner and get married to him, and have a life together. I'm also child free i.e. never had any children by choice. And even though I was very broody for just a couple of years, last year I came to the conclusion that I don't want any children and this decision has made me feel very liberated! And I'm glad that i didn't go through any kind of process in the previous years to get a child. I love babies, but that's quite literally the only stage that I love of having a kid, nothing beyond that, lol. So I wanted to know, whether in future will I have a husband for me and will he be happily childfree / childless as well? I don't want to be a step-parent btw, whether of younger or older kids, nor do I want to adopt. I just want me and my husband and a dog or two, and our happy, cozy retired life (maybe babysitting our friends' kids once a while, lol). Thanks a lot for this opportunity!

Assumptions about you - I think you might come across as intimidating at first. I think you like the color black, or else you're into dark aesthetics.

Your assumptions are correct too!

First thing I am seeing is your husband is a little older and he feels like he's too old to start a family from scratch anyways so you don't have to worry about him wanting kids.

He may have a motorcycle. I want to say that your future spouse may have a child most likely a son, but he is older like college first year or second year older and he won't really treat you as a mom more like a friend.

Either you or your future spouse went through a period of being abandoned/ feeling abandoned and disappointed by a past lover, but I see it being mostly you and the tarot card depicts a woman's back turned away from the cups which tells me you had kind of turned your back away from love for some time and it's obviously what you told me but it comes out again in tarot.

Okay there's a small chance you knew your future spouse in childhood, or you'll meet in your hometown but if not, this person will feel like home to you 'I feel like I have known you for lifetimes'. There is also emphasis on healing the inner child together and letting your inner child express themself openly without fear of judgement.

You and your future spouse might be the type to prefer to stay home and relax and be cute and cozy together away from the stress and anxiety of the outside world.

You two may also start a business together or a project. Maybe you'll buy a plot of land and build your dream home from scratch. But on top of that I do see your future spouse being super smart so some of your conversations are going to be very intellectually stimulating. He's a hard worker, dedicated and diligent you won't have o tell him twice to do something. If you tell him the faucet is leaking, he'll have it fixed by the end of the day or before you even notice it was leaking to begin with.

You may be faced with options on who to marry and I want you to know that you shouldn't feel pressured to pick one man over the other. Use your intuition trust yourself and don't make a choice because you feel rushed, or you may just end up making the wrong choice but if you don't know who to pick the cards say pick the man who puts in the most effort to be with you that's your future spouse.

I hope this resonates and any feedback is appreciated!

[skzhocomments]

I can read your smile - Choi Minho SHINee Fanfic - Chapter 12 - A heartbreaking past

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

Wattpad | AO3

Chapter 11 | Chapter 13

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Chapter 12 - A heartbreaking past

word count: 2k words

~Crystal's POV~

Well, that went well. I grimaced taking back the two plates to the kitchen.

My other co-worker came to me and laughed. I bet he could barely wait to make fun of me.

"So, did the guy you like who came with another girl reject your free dessert?" He mocked.

"Guy I like? Where did that come from?" I asked with venom in my voice.

"Come on, Crystal, it's obvious."

"How is that obvious?"

"The way you look at him." He shrugged.

"And what is that way?"

"Come on, it's so obvious you're in love with the guy, it's painful at this point. You've been looking at their table the whole time, and it's like there's hearts in your eyes when you watch him. Not that hard to notice."

"We are just friends."

"Crystal, people don't look at friends the way you look at him. Be honest with yourself."

"You might just be really delusional." I started. "I don't have feelings for him. And he has a girlfriend."

"I think you're the delusional one, bestie." He shrugged and left, and I took a spoonful of the cake and ate it spitefully. It tasted good, at least, even if the taste in my mouth was bitter.

Fuck Julia.

Seeing her brought back all the negative feelings from my past, and I started feeling really shitty.

I couldn't wait for my shift to be over, but I had two more hours to go.

Oh, and I still have to take the check back to their table and see that bitch again.

~

My feet were killing me and I was unusually tired by the end of my shift.

I quickly grabbed my jacket – it tended to get cold during September nights – and I made my way out of the restaurant.

"Crystal?" A familiar voice spoke, and I turned my head in its direction.

"Minho? What are you doing here?"

"I came to pick you up..."

"Why? What happened to your date?" I raised a brow.

"About that... I'm so sorry, Crystal. I was wrong about her..."

"You don't have to apologise to me."

"I do... I had no idea you two shared a past together..."

"What, did she actually tell you anything?" I chuckled bitterly.

I really hated remembering that time of my life.

"Let's go home and talk. What do you say?"

I nodded and we started walking home together in silence, breathing in the night air.

At one point, a cold wind brushed past us, and I started to shiver. Minho then took his coat off and put it on my shoulders, and I thanked him, and I tried not to think about him, or Julia.

At least not until we got home.

~

"Okay. What did she tell you?" I smiled as we sat down on the sofa in the living room, Minho bringing me a hot cup of tea.

"Just that her family fostered you for a while, but you weren't a great fit..." he hesitated, and I let out a big sigh.

"Yea. I guess that's the gist of it. I was a spoiled child who didn't fit in, so they sent me back." I laughed.

"But what's the truth?" Minho spoke softly and touched my hand with his, and I let him hold it. It was warm.

"Do you really want to know?" I looked into his eyes, and he nodded. "We're going to be here for hours."

"That's fine. We'll sleep in tomorrow." He smiled kindly, and I brushed away two stray tears that made their way on my cheeks.

"Okay. I've never told anyone this story before, so... it might be a bit hard... to tell it."

"It's okay." His thumb rubbed circles on my knuckles in a comforting way.

---

~Flashback~

~12 years ago~

"She's such a smart little girl!" Mrs. Lewis said and touched the back of my head.

I never liked Mrs. Lewis. She was always kind when people were around, but as soon as they left, she would grab the Discipline Stick and hit my palms hard, and sometimes the soles of my feet, until they bled. I could never run during Sports the next day, and the teacher would get really angry and scream at me, and the sports teacher was old, and scary. I didn't like him either.

"Oh, is that so? We see she has perfect marks in maths-" The woman spoke, but was soon interrupted by the man next to her that was holding her hand.

"And she's already learning an advanced curriculum, even if she's only 9?!"

"Indeed, she's a really sharp-witted child." Mrs. Lewis complimented me.

"Oh, isn't that perfect, dear?" The woman teared up, and the man just nodded eagerly.

"She would get along with our little princess so well!"

"It would be a good environment to grow up in." Mrs. Lewis approved, and they signed some papers, and the next thing I knew, I was in the back of their car heading somewhere far away.

~

I now have to refer to Mr. and Mrs. Lee as 'dad' and 'mom', and they told me on the way 'home' that I now have a sister called Julia, and that I have to love her, and play with her whenever she wants, and also teach her things, because she is not as academically gifted, whatever that means.

Julia is cute, and she has blond curls that are hanging proudly over her shoulders. They are so different from my straight, black hair. She would always say 'I am beautiful, and you're not, but that's okay, because we are sisters.' and then we'd play until dawn.

I love Julia.

And she loves me too.

And I love playing with someone my age.

Kids at the orphanage are either older or younger than me, but me and Julia are both 9, and we play with her dolls. She has so many! I've never seen so many in my life!

If I'm nice to her, she lets me play.

Mom and Dad love me too. They feed me every day, and they are happy if I get a good grade.

I have a nice family, and I am happy.

~

~11 years ago~

"What do you mean, she stole your puppet?" Mom is frowning.

"I haven't stolen anything!" I defend myself. "I don't even like that puppet!"

"Shut your mouth, Christine. Don't interrupt us when we speak!" Dad is screaming at me. But why? I haven't stolen anything.

"My name is Crystal, not Christine." I mutter under my breath. I hate it when they call me Christine. They say Crystal is a bad name. 'It's the name of a whore', they say, and we'll change it if they adopt me.

If.

"No, it's not!" Mom slaps me, and my cheek hurts and gets red immediately.

Julia is crying, still claiming that I stole her puppet.

I didn't, but they don't want to believe me.

~

~10 years ago~

"You're old enough now, why aren't you more responsible?!" Dad shouts. I don't understand why he's so upset. I got 90%. It's a good grade.

"Look, Daddy! I got full marks!" Julia smiles happily.

"Just as expected from my princess! See, Christine? You could've done better. We used to think you're smarter than this."

"But I did her project too." I frown. "She got full marks off my work."

"What did you just say?" Dad gets up from the table.

Oh-oh. That's bad.

I start running away, realising too late that he is in a bad mood today. He catches me by the hair, and I scream, so he grabs my mouth and squeezes hard.

I shut up.

"Julia, darling, will you bring daddy the wooden paddle?"

"NO!" I start crying this time. I know what that means.

Julia smirks at me.

She is happy.

She loves seeing me get hurt. Says she hates me getting attention.

That's why she hid the puppet in my room one year ago, when Mom stopped loving me and hit me for the first time.

She brings the paddle, and Dad bends me over the table and hits me as hard as he can.

I wince in pain, and I scream, and cry, and cry, and cry, but he doesn't care. He hits me again.

And again.

And again.

It hurts walking afterwards, and I can no longer sit down, or lay on the bed on my back. I have to lay on my tummy instead.

When I look in the mirror the next morning, there are big bruises on my butt, and I know it's going to take a while for them to go away.

It's still sore, but I can at least sit down in school now.

I don't tell anyone, but I cry myself to sleep for two weeks afterwards, until the bruises fade away.

Mom checks them.

Once they're gone, Julia does something, or says something, and Dad gets angry again, and he hits me with the paddle or with the bath brush.

It hurts.

It hurts.

It hurts.

~

~9 years ago~

"We are sorry to hear this one's been giving you trouble." Mrs. Lewis says and smacks the back of my head.

I no longer cry when being hit, and I don't move away.

I know better now.

"She is a monster!" Mom – no, Mrs. Lee says.

"She is a compulsive liar, a troublemaker, and she doesn't fit in with our perfect family!" Mr. Lee shouts. "We can't believe you raised such a horrible child!"

"Apologies, Mr. Lee. We promise you we're going to take care of her bad behaviour."

She sends me to the "Discipline room" - a fancy word for the cellar, and I am only given water and bread until I 'learn my lesson'.

But what is there to learn?

They let me out after two weeks, and Mrs. Lewis tells me I'm 'damaged goods' now. No one is going to want to adopt me with my record. I am just wasting the orphanage's money. I won't accomplish anything with my life.

I'm going to live under that roof until I'm 18, then I'm going to leave and never see them again.

That sounds good.

I don't want Mrs. Lewis to be right about me, so I will only focus on studying, and I will go to university and get a good job.

Yes, it sounds like a good plan.

I will endure the beatings, the hunger pangs and Mrs. Lewis' mean remarks, and I will study, and study, and study, until I move away.

~

~End of flashback~

---

"Crystal... I'm so sorry... I don't even know what to say..." Minho teared up and hugged me tightly.

"You wanted to know..." I spoke, crying as well.

"I did. I'm so glad you trusted me enough to tell me..."

"I just... it was so hard to understand why they did that... It felt like there was a huge gaping hole in my soul that was bleeding out sorrow and hurt, and I just couldn't comprehend what I did that was so bad."

"You didn't do anything. You were just a kid."

"I'm so sorry, Minho. You were so excited about Julia..."

"Who cares about her? Don't even think about her anymore, ever. She or her piece of shit family don't deserve to be even a passing thought in your mind." He caressed the back of my hair and held me tight.

I closed my eyes.

He smelled comforting. I haven't even opened his room while he was gone, not wanting to invade his privacy, and it felt so horrible to have his smell disappear from this house and be replaced with mine.

I missed his smell.

I missed him.

"I'm glad you're back." I whispered and hugged him tighter.

"Me too. I missed talking to you."

He let go and we looked at each other for a while, and it was the sea incident all over again, so instead of being foolish like last time and trying to kiss him, I averted my eyes first, not daring to cross yet another boundary and go through another rejection.

We were simply friends, and that was fine.

He heard me out.

It was the first time I ever told someone my story, and what abuse I've been through, and he paid attention, and held my hand, and hugged me tightly and cried with me.

That was good enough. I am content that this was the only type of relationship we were ever going to have.

That was okay.

"It's already 3 AM." I chuckled, wiping away the remaining tears that were still streaming down my face.

"Time goes by quickly in good company." Minho smiled, and I just nodded.

"Let's go to sleep." I stood up and stretched my arms with a yawn. Crying was tiring.

---

Chapter 11 | Chapter 13

[untangling-thoughts]

book no. 16 | part 1

'Hannibal'

Thomas Harris

About first 5 Parts ('Washington, D.C.', 'Florence', 'To the New World', 'Notable Occasions on the Calendar of Dread', 'A Pound of Flesh')

On the moment when I finished 80% of the story, I had a formed opinion on 'Hannibal'. Overall, the book was moderately enjoyable. It held a good ground on the level of 'Red Dragon' and 'The Silence of the Lambs'. There were some questionable parts that caused irritation, yet they didn't ruin the book for me. 'Hannibal' had lesser amount of detective elements. Understandable: our main focus here wasn't the investigation, but characters. Hannibal, Clarice. Their past and future. Because of it the story might seem a little underwhelming. Still solig though. Yet my mostly positive evaluation was ruined by the last Part. I'd prefer to focus on my initial thoughts and leave 'A Long Spoon' for later.

Clarice as a strong female character

Clarice Starling is fascinating. She's not perfect. But determined, hard working, and has a brain. Let's be real, her life was kind of shitty. Starling kept being undermined, discriminated, ridiculed. All because she stayed true to herself and didn't want to bend for others. She was an honest worker who wouldn't cheat her way up the career ladder, and a woman, which only added complications.

Still, she stood strong. Found ways to secure her importance, so she hasn't been discarded to something less. She kept fighting for herself, even when all the efforts were futile. Clarice resembles true strength. She kept on surviving horrible attitude and shitty work life.

The misunderstandings

An underlying theme you can notice in both 'The Silence of the Lambs' and 'Hannibal' is bias. Or misunderstanding. Characters assume things countless times, and their wild suggestions appeared realistic, though remained false.

I thought it was actually a very cool writing decision. In real life, people are constantly perceived in the wrong way, so seeing the same thing reflected in a book was wonderful.

Clarice was constantly mischaracterised by others. She was anything you could think of. An arrogant worker who's all up her own butt. A cheap girl from the farm. A ruthless FBI killing machine. Crawford's lover. A lesbian. A woman in love with Hannibal Lecter. The latter is probably the most notable one. And I found joy in reading about what people deemed her to be and who she truly was.

Hannibal also fell victim of others' assumptions. Because of his interest in Clarice it was said that he had feelings for her. Thankfully people were more insightful when it came to Lecter. As one of the conversations in Verger's mansion went:

- Does he want to sleep with her, eat her or kill her? - Maybe all three. The order is unknown though.

I liked how Mason, Cordell, Krendler and Barny kind of argued about it. Because it showed: they don't know Lecter. They can assume things, but never know for sure. Barny did quote Hannibal's opinion on Starling, yet it was taken with a lot of skepticism.

The nonexistent romance

Following on the topic of misunderstandings, we have to dive into the relationship between Clarice and Hannibal. While I am no expert, I did draw some conclusions from the story.

Lecter wasn't romantically attracted to Starling. I believe that he told Barny the truth: Hannibal found her entertaining. As he said, Clarice was a small, kind of naive kitty who was fighting other kitties. And growing to be a graceful adult cat. She was smart and somewhat idealistic, which probably stirred Lecter's curiosity. He helped Clarice in 'The Silence of the Lambs' because her past was painful and interesting enough to satisfy Lecter. In 'Hannibal', he wrote her a letter after 7 years of silence to try and patronize her and push her to reply.

Yes, there are moments that show Hannibal's strange appreciation of Clarice. We get to read about him playing on a piano while looking at her photo from a newspaper, to see him draw Starling in a strange way. We learn that Lecter stalked Clarice after retuning to USA. He watched her running in a park. Came into her car to breathe in her smell or lick the wheel. It became close to an obsessive behaviour at that point. But I didn't catch any of romantic coloring in it.

It's a sick interest. Twisted adoration. He liked to watch her as some wonderful creature. When Hannibal spectated Starling as she went for a run, he later on replayed that moment in his head. Taking into the consideration author's love to throw in extra vulgarity, it was fully absent here. Lecter wasn't drawn to Clarice's body or face. He was not imagining himself doing anything to her (ranged from a hug to whatever extreme you can imagine) and simply found comfort in watching Clarice for afar.

Clarice had no feelings towards Hannibal. In 'The Silence of the Lambs' she visited him several times. Yet it was mostly clinical. Clarice respected Lecter as a person but took no effort to appeal to him. She did her job. Told him about her life just as quid pro quo. Nothing overly emotional. Of course, she remembered Hannibal. People like these are quire unusual and she had a one-in-a-lifetime experience. So there is nothing strange.

You can tell that she had no desire to entertain Lecter or get closer to him. We learn that Clarice never replied to his letters, and whenever she received any, they got handed over to FBI. Starling remained sober-thinking. She repeatedly announced her opinion, which I believe was correct. To Hannibal, Starling was probably the most amusing person to spectate. Unlike others, she didn't try to take power from him, made no attempts on getting into his head. Lecter clearly liked to play with her, maybe respected a bit, but nothing more.

And I genuinely liked that both of them got misinterpreted by others. It was a great piece of fiction. That is, until I read 'A Long Spoon' Part.

[beautifulexpertduckvoid]

if he really loves me he would be over here trying to fix this and fuck his ego... But it's not. He didn't love me it was all a lie... Because if u truely love someone you would never want to hurt someone u love...

All I want him to do is to do is say sorry for breaking up with me and say it was a mistake... And it was just a trauma response... But his ego is so big he just wants to find faults in said even tho he knows I gave him $200 in cash for emergency... If that's controlling in money I don't know...

He's gonna realize later on in life that he fucked up. And he will also know that I truely loved him... But he just didnt... Because if he did he wouldnt stop fighting to fix this relationship instead of finding fault in me... To justify himself...

Anh Giao and chi Huong is right... They really loved him like a son... Because they see me... They know im kind loving smart giving... Thoughtful considerate... Beautiful... Hardworking... Always trying to improve any man who gets me would be lucky... And they hoped I had found happiness... And they were so happy for me... But this they kinda hope he moves... Or he has to change... And they support me holding my ground because Ivan is being to selfish and immature.

This whole situation to be honest if he loved me he would of just forgiven me and we can move on... Now I remember Tuesday, he told me it's not about being right it's about the relationship... And how u want to make your partner feel at the end of the day... Talk about karma... I have to admit I didn't love him and I just used him to anchore me from doing drugs because of the pain of losing my dad and how my mom was treating me... I feel horrible because I really treated him horribly... But his size in dick and how picky he is it's pretty hard for him to find a wife unless if he goes to Vietnam...and for him to have his mom living with him he's got no choice...

It will be a while until I want to be in a relationship again... Healing is very important... Thank goodness from the beginning of the break up to the end I only showed Ivan I just wanted to love and understand his actions... Even what I said was harsh he knows it's true... I know he loves me... He's not healed enough he needs at least another two years... Before he can really date... He not only needs to be financially stable but confidant... If he stays here then he's saying he wants a chance at us... But if he moves then he gave up... And Anh Giao knows that that's why when I said that he might leave in September he asked me if thats for sure...

Pain is pain... Why does my gut say he really love me and he is hurting let's go out and look at the strawberry moon before it goes away...

What is there left to do? But to accept the truth...

My gut feeling says ifi don't date for the next three months he will sallow his pride and say sorry... And beg to fix this like tom said because all he really wants to see is that im not like hisex wife... And chi Huong also agrees with me regardless if we are broken up or not. I should take time to heal and she will watch me closely too because she wants to see how I handle pain...before she respects me... She's seen me for two years... But she is seeing that I listen when it's right... She is seeing how honest I am... She sees that it hurts Andi have no problem with being honest and owning my pain.

They all know im a good kind loving girl...and I wouldn't treat ppl like that. All my neighbors and Anh giaos workers... Because year in year out im always friendly and loving... They know im just sad And I need company... Even Minh the heartless man had to be kind... Because finally realized that im not a gold digger. And he saw how I really just look up to ANH Giao and chi Huong as mentor... And he realized judged me wrong... Chi Huong also realized that today... But my neighbor also also heard my silence... Anh Giao didn't want to say anything because he understands me. And he saw a child hurting and trying my best to not say anything... But after I said what I needed to say they heard it in my silences how much I was hurting... Im like everyone's little sister or like their daughter... Because they have seen me... Always kind friendly... Chi Minh realized today im a real person and I hurt and I needed company... There's isn't anything more relatable then that it's as real as it get... He realized I was serious I don't have anyone else... And from now on he will be more fatherly.

My neighbor realized im human but he nevee seen me so sad... I didn't say in words... I did it on actions... They don't like him now...

[dreadwhoop]

Reviewing the All Elite Wrestling personnel 2024 Edition (Part 2) -

GET RID OF -

Continuing the time-honored tradition of an ex-WWE talent failing to live up to their hype, from Ruby Soho to Saraya to now Mercedes Mone, this one is particularly jarring because it has been one cultivated from before last year's review. I don't know why Mercedes insists on making the wig stay on - the idea of it falling OFF would be an incredible spot but her ego prevents her success. Not to mention she's looking like Dante Martin in terms of having to take an extra step each time - really makes me worried Adam Cole is also done - foot injuries are terrible tragedies on otherwise good workers. The point is I'm not saying Mercedes cannot have some purpose in this company but it's obvious not in the position she's in because it has only highlighted better wrestlers like Stephanie Vaquer or Willow Nightingale or Hikaru Shida or even Kamille. The epitome of stagnation. Also I'm half-convinced she's after Tony Khan's money in more ways than one.

The CM Punk replacement didn't go so well did it? Started out okay, ended up as expected - a candle already burned down decides to light up like a firework and fizzled out like a dud. Adam Copeland might be one of the most impressive wastes of investment by AEW because he didn't have to work half as hard and would of gotten twice as much from it. Rather than being a wise veteran he catered to the crowd. But didn't Punk injure his foot? Yes but it was by accident not intent of a choice from otherwise breaking your fused neck. But didn't Sting do the same kind of dives and he's older? Sure and I didn't like it either what's your point? At least he wasn't doing it nearly as relentless and neither are a lot of smart talent at his age. Anyone who has to keep up with the talents decades younger are not providing a future but reminding us the past is gone. It was a good run Adam now walk your career out with some dignity before you limp off as a miserable failure.

Speaking of CM Punk, here's a guy being punished entirely for being his friend! (Hi Serena Deeb waves) - Danhausen could of easily been a hot property and yet AEW are being petty by devaluing his importance to the point of persona non-grata. If you don't want to use him then release him you're effectively committing career malpractice. Danhausen is WWE-bound when his contract is up but until then he's a shocking reminder why AEW has a dying fanbase - talent they could have grow it are not allowed to show up.

A loser incarnate. If we were to be generous and say 'favor hire' I don't even know if it qualifies the analogy - when you have had the likes of Leva Bates, Rebel, even newer prospects like Harley Cameron trying to wonkily work through her ineptitude, someone who is meant to coach a division where more than half the roster already surpasses her career at half the time makes me realise nice people are only nice if they can back it up with good wrestling. Is she the female Joey Janela? Maybe too harsh. You know who would of been a better coach? Allysin Kay. At least she's a solid talent and can teach a lot to others.

Wrong place, wrong time, wrong gimmick. Everything about them looks 2nd-rate, derivative, and in bad taste. So naturally they should join Moxley's new faction! In all seriousness, these two have floundered to find footing in this company and yet when guys like MxM Collection or The Outrunners come in with equally ridiculous gimmicks the crowd clicked. Putting with Lance Archer felt like an afterthought and debutting so close to Bray Wyatt's untimely demise didn't help. Generally, as creative as I can be, even I struggle to figure out how to make them useful. The only thing I can muster is the concept they're so completely anti-hate they beat people up only to let them win or they go after Mox's faction in an almost shoot way, kidnapping Renee Paquette, and asking what's more important - your morals or your marriage. It's almost Brian Pillman cliche but pretty much anything in AEW is a Brian Pillman wannabee. Otherwise these guys have no purpose in this company and should return to the indies where they belong.

By contrast, the problem with Private Party isn't a case of wrong place or wrong time or wrong gimmick. It's the simple fact they're not already a successful tag team and after 5 years all they can lean on now is the hope they can join some pro-Black faction with MVP and Lashley when they should be established like the Acclaimed are or something memorable beyond their 'fluke' win to the Young Bucks back in 2019. Imagine coasting your careers off this one win? Imagine how little it means now you get choked out by Marina Shafir. Being jobbed out too many times and made to look like weaklings to a guy like Keith Lee, who has not even shown his face more than what a handful of times this entire year, maybe less I forget his last showing, but this was the last time I truly remember Private Party having relevance…oh wait remember their time with Matt Hardy? Yeah it's just bad after bad after bad with no sustained importance. They're jokes and I resent their longevity in this company.

Speaking of people coasting on careers, here's the Walmart Will Ospreay! Excuse me my bad - the Dollar Store Hologram! Wait wait I can go one better - the spare Dante Martin! Wow. How has he not realised his role in this company, being constant reminder of the problems of keeping Jericho or others I've excluded from helping said company, indicates either he's got a hollow dome between his ears or he's in denial of the fact there's nothing for him. We're so oversaturated with high-flyers now nobody would miss him. Nobody. You already forgot who I was talking about didn't you?

I've given up with this guy. One of the most talented people to ever grace the wrestling world and yet never reached its full potential all because he felt undeserving of it. The amount of chances this guy has got to go to the top and the amount of times he's proven he belongs at the top is why the fact he's never been THE GUY is one of wrestling's biggest letdowns. I can't stand loser mentality. It's not humble, it's not inclusive, and it's not going to make people enjoy a product when simpering crybabies insist on telling everyone it's their "Last Ride" since they BEGAN IN THIS COMPANY 5 YEARS AGO. How can I even want to get rid of younger talent who could still turn their careers around like the above mentioned Private Party or Action Andretti and not include Dustin Rhodes? In many ways he's in the exact spot Jeff Jarrett was in last year - get Oldust off TV and make him a backstage guy.

Bit of a late-minute inclusion because I've noticed a worrying thing about his voice recently and it seems to be breaking. Even if it's just an off-day or two the fact remains he's now getting long in the tooth to connect with fans. If AEW wants to grow they need to find a good replacement and the only reason why Schiavone hasn't been replaced is because they don't trust anyone - another classic case of AEW not understanding how to be anything but a 2nd-rate version of what existed before - why be good when you can be competent on a consistent basis? Celebrate mediocrity!

The last spot is usually reserved for someone I think people may have some issue with getting rid of because it requires a bit more discussion. Not here. A grifter. A parasite. A glorified fan. Alicia Atouttletale. Congratulations MJF - you're dating the female Excalibur - put a mask on her and you'll have it all. I'm so tired of evil people covering up as good people because they want to be as sociable as possible but the moment a talent raises a point against your bias you suddenly go nuclear and try to destroy everything established. It's petty pitiful behaviour. No apologies or regrets from them. But hey - prove me wrong and make her replace Tony Schiavone above if you think she's good enough for it. They won't. It won't put butts in seats. Make her replace Renee Paquette - oh wait it won't happen. Not even Lexy Nair will get replaced by her. Where is she on AEW's Totem Pole for her to effectively stall Britt Baker's career? The only reason it's not the No. 1 worst thing in AEW this year is because the Brawlout footage embaressment happened. Think about the tolerance people have for backstage garbage and how badly it has affected AEW's brand and now think about how she's gotten away with it because people behind the scenes support her. Imagine what she'd get away with if people knew who she was. Max - go to WWE and leave this trash behind before you embarrass yourself an inumerable amount of times. Wonder if MJF is still tight with Drake…

Ususally I don't include talent not officially included on AEW's roster page but if Anthony Ogogo and Lee Moriarty are listed under Shane Taylor Promotions but not the guy himself then I call it a technical oversight. Ahem - Shane Taylor is the mid-form of Mo and Mabel from Men on a Mission. Also, now we got MVP, Bobby Lashley, and Shelton Benjamin here…yeah thanks for the good memories…weren't you the lesser Keith Lee…?