#carol being our loving mother figure
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Cheer Up Mission- rewrite
This is a rewriting of an old fanfic of mine, i added a few things and changed some stuff. Hope you enjoy (:
Words: 1801
The day Natasha and Yelena took down the Red Room was the day Y/N finally got her freedom for the first time in the almost 17 years she lived. and she had been through a lot.
from torture to almost imposibble training of the Black Widow program in the Red Room, physical and mental tests that were meant to break Y/N and the other girls in the cruel facility and turn them into mechines, cold blooded killers and assasians with no remorse in them.
Y/N had no one in her life, no family, friends or relatives so in order to save the teenage spy, Natasha took Y/N back to the S.H.I.E.L.D base.
Y/N had to go through interogations, training in the S.H.I.E.L.D base and becoming an agent. all above dealing with the trauma Y/N’s past brought on her, going through nightmares, panic attacks and flashbacks. but keeping it to herself, that's the way she was taught and raised in, not to show weakness or emotions.
—--
It has been over half a year since Y/N was brought to the S.H.I.E.L.D base and at that time Y/N got closer with the women of the team like Natasha, Maria, Wanda and her mentor Carol Danvers aka Captain Marvel. finding herself more natrually comfortable around the women of the team than the men.
lately, Y/N was more distant than usual and that came into two things she only did. being locked in her room day and night, studying or sleeping, or training in the nights when the nightmares of her past would come to hunt her in her dreams. Y/N always hated the nightmare more than anything her trauma reflected on her, she hated the way the nightmares would wake her up almost every night, she hated the way it was so realistic like she was reliving the moment she was trying so hard to forget and move on from, and mostly, she hated that soft look of pity and care that would be on one of the Avengers face when they open the door of her room to find her having another nightmare.
The only one that really treated Y/N the way she was at best fine with, was Carol. her mentor knew about her past before the Red Room and inside of it after Nick Fury, the former director of S.H.I.E.L.D and Carol’s old friend, gave Captain Marvel Y/N’s file with all the information about the 17 years old assasian that she took under her wing with the job of being a mentor to young woman.
Everytime Carol would find Y/N in her room in the middle of the night, recovering from a nightmare, she would enter the teenage girl’s room and sit next to her, helping Y/N catch her breath and calm down. without any look of pity on her face even though deep down she pitied the assassin who simply deserved a better life and childhood. Carol always wanted to do more to comfort Y/N, she wanted to hug and hold her, to tell her that everything would be better even if she doesn't know that for sure, to make her student trust her for comfort when she needs it.
—--
It's a winter night, rain pouring outside and every few seconds there is half a second of the light from a lightning that is followed by a loud thunder. usualy those cold and rainy nights help Y/N relax and sleep better than most nights. but this time it only brought more to the horrible nightmares to the assasain.
Y/N woke up in the middle of the night and sat up on her quickly, her breath was fast and heavy and she could hear her heartbeat pounding in her head. the only thing Y/N could think of was what she saw and practically relived in that horrible nightmare, she looked around her room in the S.H.I.E.L.D HQ’s while telling herself in her head “it was just a nightmare. it was just a nightmare.”
Y/N felt the cold sweat slowly dripping from the back of neck, causing shivers to go down the assasain’s spine in the cold night. She tried to focus on her breathing as it was what she heard along with her heartbeat, not hearing or seeing her mentor, Carol, at the door of her room, watching her student deal and try her best to recover from the rough nightmare.
Carol walks into the room and silently sits down on the edge of Y/N’s bed, at first she doesn't say anything and lets the teenager in front of her calm down before she puts a warm but firm hand on Y/N’s shoulder, snapping Y/N out of her panicked state. “lay down, Y/N” Carol says in a soft and slightly caring tone while gently pulling Y/N down to the mattress of her bed as Y/N does resists but like always says “im fine, Carol, it was just a nightmare” in her usual cold tone, but Carol could see through YN’s tone or expression as her eyes give it away. Carol could see the panic in the young woman’s eyes, she could hear her heavy breath and see the slightly shaking hands of the assassin.
“you’re not fine, Y/N. I can see your hands shaking, your breathing heavily and your eyes are giving away too much.” Carol says in the same soft and caring tone but it was also firm at the same time, like she was teaching Y/N a lesson and not like she is comforting her. just like the way she did everytime she was the one to find Y/N in a panicked state after a nightmare, just like the way she knew Y/N would listen to her. In response to Carol’s word Y/N just rolls her eyes but listens to her mentor’s words and tries to calm herself down, something in the presence of Carol helps her get her breath back to being steady and her heart rate to stop racing.
Carol sat down closer to the still slightly shocked teenager and gently placed her warm hand on Y/N’s cold ones, giving her the comfort she needed by her silence. not asking questions, pushing Y/N to open up about her nightmare or trying to hug her. Carol knew the way to help her student from multiple other times she found herself in the same situation.
“Go back to sleep Y/N'' Carol said quietly and kept her hand on Y/N’s hand as the rain continued to pour outside of the high facility base. everytime a thunder is heard, Carol notices the teenage girl jumping a bit from the sound but stays quiet. Eventually Y/N falls back asleep and Carol stays in the room next to her, keeping watch in case she’ll wake up once again.
The next day the rain never stopped for a second and it was the weekend which meant a rest day for all of the agents in the S.H.I.E.L.D base,at some point of the day there was a knock on Y/N’s door, “come in.” she says and waits to see who is outside of her door, when Carol steps into her room Y/N’s gaze moves back to her phone.
“Okay, enough with this.” Carol started to say in a serious but slightly soft tone as she place her hands on her hips “enough with what?” Y/N replied back, slightly confused of what her mentor wants from her. “with that tough mask. I have never seen you even smile before and I think it's time I change that.” Captain Marvel says in a serious tone and walks closer to Y/N’s bed, sitting down on the edge of it. “There are two options for you right now, missy.” Carol states. “Smile or I'll make you smile, choose wisely.”
Y/N stares at her mentor in confusion as she sees the older Avenger grins at her “and how do you think you’ll make me smile?” Y/N asks in her cold and harsh tone but Carol just reaches out her hand towards the Black Widow and squeezes her sides fastly, causing the younger girl to let out a small shriek and cover her sides fastly. “don't you even dare-” Y/N didn't have time to finish her sentence before Carol dug her fingers into her sides, wiggling and spidering her fingers gently.
and for the first time since Carol knew Y/N, she hears her laugh, a genuine laugh. “You need to laugh more, it suits you” Carol says half teasingly while not stopping her fingers for a second with her own smile on her face. Y/N tries to push Carol’s fingers away while trying her best to hide her giggles, but failing, miserably. “Cahahaharol stohohohop ihihit” Y/N giggles and attempts to move away from her mentor.
“But why? I want to hear you laugh since you never showed it to me!” Carol teased and eventually pinned the young Black Widow with her arms above her head, holding two of Y/N’s wrists gently but firmly and slowly tracing her finger on the teenager’s stomach. Carol knows that if Y/N really wanted her to stop she would’ve made her stop. she sees Y/N under her, giggling at the feeling of her finger tracing up and down her stomach “i hahahate yohohou” Y/N said through her giggles while her mentor went for a wild guess, and hit the jackpot as her hand clawed Y/N’s ribs, causing the girl to break into laughter, uncontrollable but genuine laughter.
“oh, what do we have here?” Carol teased with a smile on her face, seeing Y/N’s face turn bright pink from the teasing. She tries to speak but Carol doesn't let her have a break as she vibrates her hands on Y/N’s ribs and squeezes her hips and sides, causing the spy to fall into silent laughter.
Eventually Carol lets go of Y/N’s wrists and stands back up with a proud smile on her face. seeing Y/N curl up slightly and puts her hand on her ribs, recovering from that cruel tickle attack she just got from her mentor. “nohohot a sihihingle word.” Y/N threatened through her quiet giggles which made Carol chuckle “let this be our little secret.”
And with those words she left Y/N’s room, leaving the assassin with a small smile on her face for the rest of the day.
#marvel#captian marvel#carol danvers#black widow#tickling#carol being our loving mother figure#rewrite
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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐔𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐓.𝟐
following your erotically fantastical encounter with the mother of the kids you babysit, the aftermath is more of a rollercoaster than you could have ever precedented.
🌸 pairing: milf!pregnant!wanda x dom!babysitter!reader
🌸 cont: smut (18+), mommy kink (wanda), lactation kink, body worship, praise kink, power bottom sex-deprived milf 🤝beefy college service top footballer
🌸 word count: 2042
🌸 note: THIS IS SO LONG-AWAITED im sorry..... also i know im supposed to be writing for kinktober but milf!pregnant!wanda was invading every corner of my mind so here ya go. not proof-read!
part one || main masterlist
“Come on, Y/N, you’re not going to the party tonight?” Natasha grumbles, grabbing the sleeve of your bomber jacket as you try your darndest to escape your friends.
It was the fated next day following your erotically fantastical encounter with Wanda, and you had just completed your classes. As you strolled out of campus grounds, the sun was already setting. It painted a picturesque view of the orange horizon, but truthfully, you only cared about getting back to Wanda for that promised ‘tomorrow’.
“I told you no, Nat,” you reply with a playful sternness that the others laugh at. It was no secret that Natasha had a crush on you, ever since you first sat next to her in the lecture hall and got a little flirty and perhaps a little too handsy.
It was also no secret that for every lecture after that, you would sit next to a different girl and activities of the same sort would ensue. Most of the time, those encounters would end up with a pretty girl trapped between the wall of a cramped supply closet and you.
“They’ve probably got a secret girlfriend,” Tony adds unhelpfully, with that classic smirk you want to punch off his face sometimes.
“Really?” Steve asks genuinely, ever the innocently clueless one. “Is she younger than us?”
“Oh, definitely,” Sam chimes in. “Have you seen the freshmen ‘round our beloved Y/N?”
“Feral,” Carol states in resolution. “They crowd at the field to watch Y/N during football practice.”
“And of course, Y/N doesn’t bother to hide the way she leads them all on!” Natasha adds in partial indignation, nudging you suggestively. “That’s totally your type, hm? Younger, pretty girls who chase after you with a puppy love? Is that why my forward advances have always ended in flames?”
You grin half-heartedly, awkward in the spotlight of your love life. For one, your friends couldn’t be more wrong about this ‘secret girlfriend’ you had. Younger, innocent girls? More like smoking hot single moms in their late thirties.
It was strange, even, how you would normally take these girls’ teasing in your stride, almost basking in the glory of being the most sought-after student on campus.
But with the looming thought of Wanda intercepting every brain wave of yours, months of pining surmounting to a heated make-out session with the hope for something more, all else was forsaken.
You try not to think about the implications of that too hard.
As your friends continue to bicker about the prospect of your secret girlfriend, you seize the well-earned distraction and weasel your way out.
Sooner than you’d care to admit, you’re standing outside Wanda’s home, skateboard in hand. You’re buzzing in anticipation with your flushed face and windswept hair.
Before you can doubt yourself and backtrack, you knock on the door sharply, twice. You can’t help but smirk at the muffled shriek that follows, then a muted shuffle, then silence. Your heart hammers in your ribcage. You really were about to do this.
“Come in, sweetheart,” the mother calls out with a sugary tone that feeds your ever-increasing libido.
You open the unlocked door, mentally preparing yourself to face Wanda once more.
But then you actually lay your eyes upon her ethereal figure, and your athlete-hardened knees nearly buckle.
Fuck.
Sprawled out on the sofa like something out of a classic Renaissance painting is Wanda, clad in nothing but a lacy set of dark red lingerie, the most sultry look on her face that draws all the air out of your lungs.
You’d never seen a more attractive woman, pregnant or not.
The way the lacy bra hugs her swollen breasts tighter, pushing the cleavage to be even more visible, the way her thick thighs are spread to reveal those beautiful stretch marks.
“Fuck,” you say, a lot higher pitched than you would care to admit. It seems to be the only word currently circulating in your mind, your studied vocabulary flying out of the window at the sight of Wanda presenting herself for you like a well-earned present.
“See something you like?” Wanda dares to tease, left hand trailing along the lace of her bra, dipping into the ample cleavage that leaves you salivating.
It takes approximately three seconds for you to kick the door shut, yank off your jacket and nearly dislocate your shoulder, then press against Wanda like it was always meant to be.
The kiss you pull her into is the opposite of gentle, your head slanting to deepen the kiss immediately, tongues meeting like planets bound to collide, bound to cross paths and cause an eclipse.
Wanda moans into the kiss, and you can barely hide your pleasure at that noise. You wanted to hear it a thousand times over, the breathless cry of your name, the begging tone of the older woman.
It was so wrong, but nothing had felt more right.
Wanda’s relinquishment of power doesn’t last too long, though, because before you can impatiently rip off the fabric of her lingerie, she threads her fingers into your hair and forcefully tugs you closer to her chest.
“My house, my rules,” Wanda states, and you’d be lying if you didn’t feel a rush of arousal coursing through your veins at Wanda’s motherly sense of control.
“Yes, ma’am,” you mutter, half-jokingly, but when your peripheral view catches Wanda visibly aroused by that, you know it isn’t going to be the last time you address her as that.
Your hand slides under Wanda’s body to unclasp the bra, letting out an affected noise at the sight of her full tits on display.
“Shit,” you grunt, pausing for a moment to admire the view.
Throughout the months of babysitting Billy and Tommy, you had only ever discreetly checked out Wanda’s cleavage, or perhaps stare a little too hard when she wore scanty dresses that showed off her side boobs.
Now, with those perfect, swollen mounds right before your face, you give into your urges to bury your face between them. You groan at the sensation of Wanda’s milk leaking out of her hardened nipples, your mouth moving to suckle at her breasts.
“Shit, baby,” Wanda cries, throwing her head back as you drink right out of her breasts, lapping fervently. It wasn’t entirely sexual per se, but the sheer relief of lightening that weight load in her breasts was a pleasure in itself.
You get slightly drunk off the feeling of Wanda’s breasts in your mouth, and it takes Wanda a surprising amount of strength to get your head away from her chest eventually.
“You’re a bit too obsessed with my tits,” Wanda teases, swiping her milk off your lips with her thumb, tilting your head down to lock eyes with her. The tension between the two of you is palpable, thick in the air, and you long to drown in that desire.
You only smirk back, hands resting on the hem of her thong. “May I undress you now, ma’am?” you emphasise, tilting your head to the side in faux innocence.
“So polite,” Wanda retorts right back, fingertips tracing the curve of your jawline as a smile plays on her lips. “How could I say no to such a gentleman?”
That’s all the confirmation you need before you snap the elastic of Wanda’s red thong, stuffing the flimsy material into the pocket of your pants. What you’d do with it later was for another day.
You kiss down Wanda’s breasts to her swollen belly, firm but gentle, then you flatten out your tongue when it reaches her wet heat.
“I couldn’t pay attention,” you growl, licking a long stripe up Wanda’s pussy. “In any of my fucking classes today,” you continue, tongue flicking at her puffy clit. “‘Cause I was thinking ‘bout all the ways I could fuck that pretty cunt.”
The filthy moan that leaves Wanda’s lips at your words rings around the confines of the four walls.
It had been so long since Wanda experienced such mindblowing sex; She had been sexually repressed because of Vision’s busy schedule, and it was torture because pregnancy pretty much solidified her daily sexual arousal.
But what with her split from him meaning no more mediocre sex, and the prospect of a hot babysitter entering her life, Wanda’s pregnancy hormones had skyrocketed to an all-time high.
Long gone were the nights she held a vibrator against her clit under the sheets, eyes screwed shut as thoughts of you swam in her head. Long gone were the times she helplessly fingered herself in the shower, wishing her fingers belonged to you instead.
Now, your head was buried between her thighs, your mouth like the devil on her cunt, fast-paced and unforgiving and everything Wanda had always longed for.
“You’re perfect,” you grunt into the older woman’s wet heat, the vibrations of your rough tone sending jolts of arousal up Wanda’s body. “You’re so fucking perfect, Wanda.”
“D-Don’t say that,” she answers breathlessly, fingernails digging into your scalp. “You’ve slept with plenty of other younger, prettier girls than me.”
The insecurity Wanda felt about her body had mainly stemmed from Vision, who was always going on about how she had become less attractive after pregnancy, with the stretch marks and the added fat and other blemishes on her skin.
“I don’t know about that,” you say, relentless in your worshipping of Wanda’s body. The way you were treating her like a temple was overriding the false beliefs Vision had planted into her head. “‘Cause now when I think about those other girls in bed they all end up looking like you.”
At that, Wanda feels tears prick in the back of her eyes, her gaze blurring as she stares at you. ‘
You, who had entered her life like a ray of hope, brightening up her every day with a blindingly charming smile and a selfless heart. You, who had treated her with more care and respect than any man she had ever been with before. You, who tied up all her loose ends and sewed it up to form the shape of a pretty little heart.
“I love you,” Wanda whispers, the words spilling from the tip of her tongue before she can control it. Her breath constricts afterwards when your mouth finally stops to register her words.
“I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to realize it,” Wanda continues, breathless, pushing aside your hair to properly look at you in the eyes. “But I do love you, Y/N L/N.”
Wanda feels something wet on her inner thigh, something that’s not her own slick. It takes a moment for her to realize that it’s your tears.
“I’ve loved you since I first laid my eyes on you,” you confess, eyes shining. “I think I was just scared to believe it until today, too.”
Heartstrings get tugged like a harp, crescendoing into a beautiful symphony that was finally requited love, finally coming to a high, finally reaching its summit.
The lust that encaptures the two of you dissipates into a warm glow of love, the tension easing into trials of romance.
When you dive back in between Wanda’s thighs, you’re determined and emotional and ultimately choked with new possibilities.
You could already imagine cooking dinners together with Wanda, reading the kids bedtime stories, chastising them to go and brush their teeth, stealing kisses when they fell asleep.
You could already map out a navigation of your future years, down millions of paths and possibilites that all brought you to Wanda Maximoff. She was your life, your truth, your unbreakable vow.
With that, her first orgasm comes in a tidal wave, like rushing water breaking free from a dam.
Wanda sobs, riding your face as she comes harder than she’s ever had in her life, squirting all over your face and the sofa, all else forgotten.
Your expert tongue and naturally-skilled fingers bring her to another plane of existence, where she was floating above the universe, where your name was chanted like a mantra.
The world around you faded as Wanda’s thighs wrapped around your head, as you dived down once more to worship, as you dived down once more to chase the love of your life.
This was the only happy ever after you needed.
hope yall liked it 😋 reblogs are much appreciated!!
main masterlist || AO3
#wanda maximoff x reader smut#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff smut#wanda maximoff x reader#x reader#marvel smut#gxg smut#wlw smut#wanda maximoff x reader fluff#wanda x reader#wanda x reader smut#wanda x y/n#sub wanda maximoff#bottom wanda maximoff#top reader#dom reader
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Rewind the Tape —Episode 1
Art of the episode
During our rewatch, we took note of the art shown and mentioned in the pilot, and we wanted to share. Did we miss any? Do you have any thoughts about how these references could be interpreted? How do you think Armand and Louis go about picking the art for their penthouse in Dubai?
The Fall of the Rebel Angels
Peter Bruegel the Elder, 1562
This painting is featured in the Interview with the Vampire book, and it was important enough to be included in the draft pilot script!
Bruegel the Elder was among the most significant Dutch and Flemish Renaissance artists. He was a painter and print-maker, known for his landscapes and peasant scenes.
Three Studies for Figures at the Base of a Crucifixion
Francis Bacon, 1944
Bacon was an Irish figurative painter, known for his raw, unsettling imagery and a number of triptychs and diptychs among his work. At a time when being gay was a criminal offense, Bacon was open about his sexuality, and was cast out by his family at 16 for this reason. He destroyed many of his early works, but about 590 still survive.
The Tate, where these paintings are displayed, says this about the work: "Francis Bacon titled this work after the figures often featured in Christian paintings witnessing the death of Jesus. But he said the creatures represented the avenging Furies from Greek mythology. The Furies punish those who go against the natural order. In Aeschylus’s tragedy The Eumenides, for example, they pursue a man who has murdered his mother. Bacon first exhibited this painting in April 1945, towards the end of the Second World War. For some, it reflects the horror of the war and the Holocaust in a world lacking guiding principles."
On the Hunt or Captain Percy Williams On A Favorite Irish Hunter and Calling the Hounds Out of Cover
Samuel Sidney, 1881 [Identified by @vfevermillion.] and Heywood Hardy, 1906 [Identified by @destinationdartboard.]
Sidney was an English writer, and his prints usually accompanied his publications about hunting, agriculture, and about settling Australia during the colonial period. Hardy, also British, was a painter, in particular an animal painter.
There's also a taxidermy deer, ram, and piebald deer on the wall.
Iolanta
Pyotr Tchaikovsky, 1892
The opera Louis and Lestat go to was composed by Tchaikovsky, another gay artist. The play tells a story "in which love prevails, light shines for all, lies are no longer necessary and no one must fear punishment," as put by Susanne Stähr for the Berliner Philharmoniker.
Strawberries and Cream
Raphaelle Peale, 1816 [Identified by @diasdelfuego.]
Peale is considered to have been the first professional American painter of still-life.
Outfits inspired by J.C. Leyendecker
Leyendecker was one of the most prominent and commercially successful freelance artists in the U.S. He studied in France, and was a pioneer of the Art Deco illustration.
Leyendecker's model, Charles Beach, was also his lover of five decades. You can read costume designer Carol Cutshall's thoughts on these outfits on her Instagram.
The Artist's Sister, Melanie
Egon Schiele, 1908 [Identified by @dwreader.]
Schiele was an Austrian expressionist painter and protege of Gustav Klimt. Many of his portraits (self portraits and of others) were described as grotesque and disturbing.
A Stag at Sharkey's
George Wesley Bellows, 1909 [Identified by @vfevermillion.]
Bellows was an American realist painter, known for his bold depictions of urban life in New York City.
Mildred-O Hat
Robert Henri, undated (likely 1890s) [Identified by @nicodelenfent, here.]
Henri was an American painter who studied in Paris, where he learned from the Impressionists and determined to lead an even more dramatic revolt against American academic art.
Starry night
Edvard Munch, 1893 [Identified by @vfevermillion.]
Munch was a Norwegian painter, one of the best known figures of late 19th-century Symbolism and a great influence in German Expressionism in the early 20th century. His work dealt with psychological themes, and he personally struggled with mental illness.
If you spot or put a name to any other references, let us know if you'd like us to add them with credit to the post!
Starting tonight, we will be rewatching and discussing Episode 2, ...After the Phantoms of Your Former Self. We hope to see you there!
And, if you're just getting caught up, learn all about our group rewatch here ►
#louis de pointe du lac#daniel molloy#lestat de lioncourt#vampterview#interview with the vampire#iwtv#amc interview with the vampire#interview with the vampire amc#amc iwtv#iwtv amc#IWTVfanevents#rewind the tape#in throes of increasing wonder#analysis and meta#art of the episode
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Happy Birthday, Bradley!
Pairing: Rooster x Wife!Reader
Author’s Note: I will always be a little salty that I wasn’t able to post this on his actual birthday, but I’m so glad that the shadowban has finally been lifted! This one seems like a good one to celebrate with!
Warnings: Lots and lots of fluff, hints at some spice (nothing explicit).
- Every year, when June 27th rolls around, you make it your personal mission to spoil your husband rotten for his birthday.
- Rooster is always incredibly low-key about his birthday, and never asks for anything, but you always spend weeks planning something special for him.
- On his first birthday as your boyfriend, you got the two of you tickets to a San Diego Padres game. Rooster had mentioned several times how much he enjoyed baseball, and how he remembered his dad taking him to a few games when he was little, so he was incredibly grateful for the gift.
- “Just please tell me you didn’t have them put my name up on the jumbotron,” Rooster teased, tugging affectionately on the bill of your baseball cap.
- “No, no, of course not,” you winked, giggling when he jokingly groaned.
- What you hadn’t planned on was the two of you getting picked for the Kiss Cam. Everyone around you cheered and whistled as Rooster planted a big kiss on your lips, waving to the cameras as you blushed.
- “Happy birthday, Bradley,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he settled an arm around you to enjoy the rest of the game.
- Another year, you planned a weekend trip to Miami for the two of you, figuring it would be a perfect time to hit the beaches and soak up some sun by the pool.
- Rooster ended up wanting to spend most of the time you were there in your hotel room. But, hey, he was the birthday boy. Who were you to refuse?
- “Happy birthday, Bradley,” you giggled in between kisses, feeling like you were the one getting the gift with him as your boyfriend.
- During the year of your engagement, you knew you wouldn’t be able to do anything too extravagant since most of your money was going towards the wedding or being saved for the future. However, with help from your friends, you were able to throw a lovely surprise party at Penny’s house.
- “I promised I’d drop something off for Penny on our way to lunch,” you told him as you drove the two of you in the direction of the Benjamin household. “Come inside with me. Penny made lemonade for your birthday,” you added with a wink once you pulled up outside.
- Rooster had been genuinely shocked when he’d stepped into the house and everyone had jumped out of their hiding places with a raucous shout of “SURPRISE!”
- Though it was nothing too elaborate, Rooster had been deeply appreciative of the barbeque and yard games in celebration of his birthday. He made sure to whisper in your ear over and over again how thankful he was and how lucky he was to have a fiancee as amazingly thoughtful as you.
- “Happy birthday, Bradley,” you grinned, playfully wiping some off the frosting from his cake onto the tip of his nose. He got you back by nuzzling it across your cheek.
- On his first birthday as your husband, you surprised him with a photo album you had made of all the pictures you’d discovered among his mother’s things. There were pictures of his parents when they were children, pictures of them as a young couple, pictures from their wedding, and tons of pictures of them with Rooster as a baby. You’d also included pictures of Carole and Rooster from his graduations and sporting events growing up, as well as some pictures from your own wedding, side by side with his parents’ wedding photos.
- “God, baby, this is amazing,” Rooster told you, reverently flipping through the pages as he sat beside you on the couch. “Thank you,” he murmured, choked up as tears glistened in his eyes.
- In addition, you’d also found a company online that could convert old home videos into DVDs and digital files. So you’d sent all the Bradshaws’ home videos off just in time to be able to play them for Rooster on his birthday. You’d both cried watching Goose’s and Carole’s bright smiles fill the screen, their infectious laughter present in every take as they brought Bradley home from the hospital, took him to the beach, celebrated his first Christmas, and shared so many other special moments together as a family.
- “This is the best gift anyone has ever given me,” Rooster whispered, squeezing your hand. He’d missed the sound of his parents’ voices and now he could hear them whenever he wanted.
- Once you and Rooster started having children of your own, his birthday celebrations became simpler. You and the kids usually surprised him with breakfast in bed or made a special dinner for him.
- Every year, you help the kids make cards for their daddy and pick out gifts which you claim are from the children. Rooster always makes sure to make a big deal about everything that they give him.
- Once the kids are asleep, you make sure to give your husband a little gift of your own.
- “Mrs. Bradshaw, you have really outdone yourself this year,” he whistled on his most recent birthday, smiling widely at the lingerie set you’d picked out just for the occasion. Lifting you up into his arms, he kissed you fervently as he turned and gently laid you down on the bed. “You spoil me too much,” he whispered, kissing his way down your neck.
- Laughing, you wrapped your arms around him and smiled as his hands roamed freely all over your body. “Happy birthday, Bradley!”
#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster x reader#x reader#x female reader#miles teller#top gun#top gun: maverick
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Our discord server got me all wrapped up in an FFXIV Au where I already drew some designs to it once and I first didn't want to get too invested but... then I met Erenville got obsessed and now bunny boy didn't want to leave my head... might share a fanfic I wrote about him and Carol too... I just fell in love developing them and got attached... I still gave some food for the other Twisted wonderland oc ships with Yuzuha and Henry too...
And I also do have a bio for her:
Carol Ann
-Wildwood Elezen
-Born in Gridania, lives in Limsa
-Arcanist later Summoner
-197 cm
-Sexuality: Straight
-Family: Father died long time ago, Mother works in a simple medicine shop
Born a curious one Carol was always interested in gathering as much Knowledge as she can and helping where she can. Even as a kid she learned early from her mother how to craft potions and random medicine instead… living the simple life with a deep interest that developed in the Primals after hearing stories Myths and finding more books, Ifrit being the one getting her curiosity the most. Her father too was a great warrior who however died on his way to meet the primal Garuda. She wanted to one day meet each of the primals herself…not only because of this incident… to figure out what happened to him, but also because of her own fascination. However even if she had a pretty common life things weren’t as easy as she thought… Her mothers shop was popular in town, yet many travelers and residents took interest in Carol in a romantic way… to the point she often had to work out strategies to not be bothered during work and get to deliver the medicine on time… it earned her a bit of a resentment towards strangers wanting to accompany her to protect her… she wanted to be able to protect herself… not needing help from strangers. One day her mother came to her, talking with her eye to eye because she didn’t want Carol to wilt away in her shop and never fulfill her thirst for knowledge as well as her dreams of meeting the primals…She wanted her to become a flower in full bloom… strong and sharing her kindness with others… and so Carol took with her the old necklace of her father and started her journey.
---
And with this I hope I can get back to twisted wonderland content but I still might fall back brainrotting about these two again and getting attached so.
#Final Fantasy XIV#Final Fantasy 14#Ffxiv#Erenville#carol ann#henry lakeside#yuzuha aimon#carol x erenville#carol x henry#carol x yuzuha#oc x canon#elezen#ff14
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I'm on a freaking stommy brainrot!
Tommy constantly trying to feed Steve on s1
What if, Tommy comes around he breaks up woth carol.or carol leaves town and Tommy's alone, for the first time in a long time and he does some thinking. He doesn't like being alone, and he really misses Steve. He also Maybe has a gay panic.
So he shows up at Dustin's. Cause Steve is always there. And Dustin is like the fuck? While his mom is like language. But his mom is like give these two some space sweety. And then they just end up eavesdropping from another room. Cause I feel like that's just a family trait.
Tommy apologizes, begs forgiveness and begs for Steve to take him back (as a friend)
Dustin's mom is like this sounds like a boyfriend begging forgiveness. And Dustin is like it kinda does what
While Steve hears him out and tells him he needs some time to think about it.
Tommy just smiles cause thinking about it is something, it's not an outright rejection. So there's hope.
But Tommy just keeps coming back. And he starts trying to hangout with the kids cause Steve's kids are where Steve is at. He weirdly gets along with Will. Him and Will just hit it off. Will doesn't need a big brother figure he already has one. He needs a. Not a mentor but someone to help him break out of his shell,he thinks and Tommy's chaotic, and Will thinks he needs that right now.
Tommy also thinks his paintings and art is pretty cool. Maybe Tommy's an art kid too or he used to be.
But I'm getting off topic. Tommy just sort of becomes a regular in their lives now. Mike was upset because Tommy?! Really?! But he slowly becomes used to Tommy.
Johnathan was not happy. At first. Then he slowly came around after Tommy apologized to Nancy and actually meant it.
Anyways Tommy becoming apart of the party and Steve realizing just how much he missed Tommy, having him around. And how soft Tommy actually is. He likes this new Tommy. Him and Tommy soft of become this mother hen and chaotic uncle duo. Steve tells the party stories of him and Tommy and Tommy just laughs cause he can't believe Steve remembers that.
They eventually get closer maybe a monster attack happens and Steve realizes how much he actually cares about Tommy. Realizes he loves him and he confesses in the heat of the moment while Tommy is like. Oh shit really?! I've loved you for years and I just didn't realize it until recently, this is fucking awesome.
The party is right there, along with Nancy and Johnathan. Who were betting on when these two would realize.
Argyle says hell yeah love is love
And then Will says. I always thought you two were like a married couple.
Max says I almost called Steve mom once.
Dustin jumps in and says they're more like the aunt and uncle of the group. Steve the mother hen worried about our safety and Tommy the chaotic uncle who let's us do whatever within reason.
The party agrees. They are now the chaotic aunt and uncle. Steve would just like to be called the chaotic uncles but the party agrees on that steve is like an aunty.
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Protective!Natasha Masterlist
5 Times Natasha Kept An Eye On Peter (ao3) - Reshma (small_epiphanies)
T, 20k
Summary: + 1 Time Peter Kept An Eye On Her
A Marriage of Inconvenience (ao3) - WhinyWingedWinchester
loki/tony, natasha/thor
M, 80k
Summary: Forced into an arranged marriage with Prince Loki of Aysgarth, Tony knows that he is not the ideal husband to the son of a king, but he still hopes that he might find true love with his husband like the stories he loves to read of adventures and happily-ever-afters.
Prince Loki, however, does not wish to be married, and he makes this clear to Tony even after their vows have been said before the priest. Life is no better for Tony in Castle Aysgarth than it was back in Iron Reach - he is as unwanted by Loki as he was by his father.
But slowly, things change. There is a steadily growing affection between them, something that might, perhaps, grow into more and Tony can only hope his love for Loki might one day be returned.
But then an assassin strikes unexpectedly, pirates attack, and Tony very well might be living an adventure from one of his books, but it looks like happily-ever-after might be too much to hope for.
Avengers Watch Spider-Man No Way Home (ao3) - SpiderWidowFam88
mj/peter, pepper.tony
T, 71k
Summary: The movie left me feeling so heartbroken for our favorite spider kid so this is how I'm dealing with it.
Expect everyone being protective of Peter and desperately wishing they could be there to kill all of his problems.
Cough* cough* Natasha...
It's exactly what the title says.
They watch Spider-Man No Way Home
By Any Other Name (ao3) - allthislovetogive
steve/natasha
T, 118k
Summary: It was supposed to be a quick in and out mission. Get in, gather intel, destroy the base, and get out. They did not expect for it to be a rescue mission at all, not until Natasha turns a corner and catches a glimpse of a small figure behind a glass panel.
A small child is rescued and entrusted into Natasha's care, forcing her to come to terms with her past.
A series of one-shots.
darkness will be rewritten (ao3) - princessironspider
natasha/tony
N/R, 109k
Summary: Peter is Tony's biological child.
Natasha Romanoff has been married to Tony Stark secretly for years.
What would the movies be like if this were the case?
Domestic Avengers (ao3) - denyingmyselfalways
T, 12k
Summary: Even without looking she could feel his star-struck grin. No wonder Tony had become all parental. That mini spider had him wrapped around his finger. He might have them all wrapped around his little finger pretty soon. And Natasha realized that she didn’t think she would mind if he did.
Or: how Peter managed to get every single Avenger to become uber-protective of him and practically become his parents.
From The Ashes, We Rise Like The Phoenix (ao3) - SpiderWidowFam88
peter/gwen, pepper/tony
T, 110k
Summary: *Tony Dusted instead of Peter*
Peter spent three weeks on that ship, the only thing he has to occupy him is the really old music, paper football, and the ever expanding expanse of space. Peter is pretty sure he’s gonna die up there before they even get close to Earth. So with his final moments he records his final words and goes to sleep, even though he knows he might never open his eyes again.
Carol Danvers shows up 30 minutes later…
Fury Makes Ice Colder (ao3) - Tempest_Raining
G, 4k
Summary: It's the dead of night and Natasha has a score to settle with the Rogues after what they did to her family. And, let's face it, Natasha was only ever going to do this where she could be dramatic and use her assassin skills.
Or: The One Where Natasha Romanov Is Pissed At The Rogue Avengers And She Let's Them Know It. Very Clearly.
IronDad and SpiderMom (ao3) - juliette_1004
pepper/tony, steve/natasha
G, 60k
Summary: Peter Parker is not your average kid.
He’s supposed to be the normal nerd kid Parker but he’s not. His Mother is a spy and he lives with a secret identity. His real name is Peter Aldrik Romanoff and he is Natasha’s miracle baby. She had thought she’ll never have children but one faithful night with a man who is known by everybody. She played along. Wanted to rebel. Wanting to just forget everything.
Peter’s mother, Black Widow herself woke up in none other than Tony Stark’s bedroom. She left before the man could even wake up. Leaving one note with a red kissmark.
Peter Parker is supposed to be your normal kid that happens to be a son of a spy and a secret child whom Tony Stark never known off until..
He saw a pair of big brown eyes staring at him in a Stark expo.
Brown eyes the same as his.
i won’t let go of your hand (ao3) - Charlie_Balle
eventual maria/natasha
N/R, 258k
Summary: Yelena Belova was seventeen when her sister broke her out of the Red Room. She was seventeen when her sister brings home the man sent to kill her. She was seventeen when she became the youngest SHIELD agent known to date.
Las Vegas (ao3) - elcapitan_rogers
steve/natasha
E, 219k
Summary: Steve was freaking out over his own wedding and the gang decided to take him to Las Vegas to unwind him.
Peter and His Super Family (ao3) - all_things_fandom_and_stuff
steve/bucky
M, 52k
Summary: The Avengers learn about Spider-Man's surprising identity, and they soon realize that they will go to any length to protect the newest member of their Super Family.
Peter Parker Meets The Avengers (ao3) - arabellagaleotti
G, 9k
Summary: “Hey Mister Stark, so I’ve got some homework and I was hop-” I cut off abruptly. Sitting in the middle of the polished granite kitchen of Tony Stark is the runaway Avengers. Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton, and Sam Wilson. Strewn about, they look familiar with the space, but still slightly unused to it. I suppose months away does that. “You’re not Mister Stark?” I say, slightly awe-struck.
“No. We’re not.” Natasha says dryly, eyeing me up and down from her place perched on top of the counter.
OR,
Peter meets the Avengers, and they all love him, because how can you not?
Raising a Wizard (ao3) - a_dale
N/R, 28k
Summary: When S.H.I.E.L.D. dumps everyone's secrets post CA:WS, Natasha discovers who her biological family was and that she wasn't born Natalia Romanova, but Mallory Evans. When she goes looking for her family, what she finds is a 6 year old Harry Potter and for the first time in her life she has someone who is all her own. Together, with the family she chose, they decide to raise him as their own. This is the story of how the avengers raise a young wizard, and how they teach him and each other how they all deserve the love and comfort having a family can offer.
Smitten Kitten (ao3) - NotEvenCloseToStraight
bucky/steve/tony
E, 34k
Summary: Everyone in the Avengers Tower is over protective of Tony. The genius is way too reckless, and they are constantly checking on him after every battle, doting on him and spoiling him.
Tony is their favorite, Tony is their family. Everybody Loves Tony.
Sorry, Not Sorry (ao3) - Kenzie_Marvel
mj/peter
G, 4k
Summary: Peters class takes a field trip to the compound, resulting in Yelena having a rundown with Flash Thompson and a very protective Natasha.
The truth about Tony Stark (ao3) - WandaRavenBlack
natasha/tony
N/R, 145k
Summary: Steve and his team are called to Avengers Tower by Natasha. When they arrive they are met with shocking news. Tony is in coma and Friday has obtained some odd videos that she thinks everyone needs to watch. What they see makes them finally understand Tony Stark.
Your Lost (ao3) - Kenzie_Marvel
G, 3k
Summary: What happens when Peter, Yelena, and Mj are out to lunch and a man claiming to be Yelenas biological father shows up? Natasha loses her shit.
#themculibrary#mcu#marvel#natasha romanoff#protective!natasha#protective!natasha masterlist#masterlists#protectiveness
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how do u and dani know each other , is it thru tumblr or elsewhere? x
Anon you have opened a can of worms that you did not mean to open, but now you must suffer the consequences.
Long story short: Dani and I did not meet on Tumblr. For those of you who would like a Dani and Zee origin story, continue reading.
Dani and I met when we were 8? I think. Fourth grade. Our Girl Scout Troops merged into what we call a “super troop” which essentially means one troop lost their leader so another troop absorbed them. That is how Dani and I met.
That absolutely does not mean we liked each other. Dani and I hated each other for the first 4-5 years we knew each other. I thought she was weird, she thought I was a bitch, we didn’t get along.
During those years though, we still were really close with each other’s moms because of Girl Scouts. So despite the fact that we really didn’t like each other, we both saw each other’s mom as a “second mom” figure. I can clearly remember my mother being on the phone and being like “Oh I’m talking to Dani” and I can remember calling Dani’s mom just to ask questions about life. Like we hated each other but then loved each other’s mom.
In 8th grade we had to lead a badge together for the Girl Scout troop. It was a writing badge. We quickly realized that we actually had a lot in common (things like writing) and we’d been avoiding each other for 4 years for literally no reason. And our moms had already integrated themselves into our lives and they were friends.
In high school we got close for a few different reasons. All of which are absolutely and entire batshit insane. Truly some of the most unhinged shit I’ve ever done.
The first reason is fanfic. I bet Dani that I could write the worst Harry Potter fanfic she had ever read. And I did. No matter what she tells you, I won that fucking bet. I wrote 7 novel length fics for it. And it was horrid. Truly some of the worst shit I’ve ever written in my life.
The second reason was Golden Retriever Friend. The two of them did wrestling together and I was friends with Golden Retriever just from classes and mutual friends and stuff. So the three of us became kind of a trio. Actually we became a lot of a trio. Our moms started calling us “Dolliez” because it was a combination of all of our names.
Dani and I got each other through some really tough times during high school. She came out before I did. I got outed. In our small town there were some… less than accepting people to me. “Dolliez” was quite literally my/our safe haven. We even started a school club together. I do not think I would have survived high school without them. I know I wouldn’t have.
Covid hit during our Junior Year and we were each other’s designated safe people. The three of us isolated from pretty much everyone except each other. Again, I don’t know if I would have made it through the pandemic if I didn’t have them. And, if you read my recent post about my dark and mysterious past, then you know Dani got me through some pretty messy shit.
We are now Sophomores in college and still closer than ever. We read and edit each other fanfic, we text every day, we help each other with homework. I text Dani in the middle of the night sometimes the most random shit that comes to mind. She’ll yell at me when I’m doing something self destructive.
At this point Dani isn’t even a best friend. She’s certainly a sister but more than that she’s like an extension of my brain. She sometimes has thoughts for me before I can even have them. Dani is one of 2 friends of mine that will be at my mother’s official wedding ceremony. We grew up together, we’ve gotten awards together, we graduated high school together.
That’s Dani.
Fell free to add to this @the-navistar-carol
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Jeffrey Dahmer Victim's Mother Calls Out Evan Peters' Golden Globes Win
It feels like Netflix's Dahmer series came and went, despite being one of the biggest debuts on the platform. After the show's star Evan Peters snagged a Golden Globe Award for Best Limited Series Actor for playing the titular serial killer, the families of Dahmer's real life victims still have a lot to say.Shirley Hughes, the mother of Dahmer's 31-year-old victim Tony Hughes, spoke up about Peters being praised for portraying one of humanity's most grotesque figures. In a statement provided to TMZ, she said that Peters should have used his acceptance speech to "mention the families who are still suffering from Dahmer's crimes, or to say Hollywood should put an end to telling stories about killers and glorifying them."Related | Do We Need More Serial Killer Movies?In his acceptance speech, Peters acknowledged that the show was "difficult" to make and watch, but he "sincerely hoped some good came out of it."Hughes still thinks more needs to be done, telling TMZ, "There's a lot of sick people around the world, and people winning acting roles from playing killers keeps the obsession going and this makes sick people thrive on the fame." She also brought up the unfortunate reality of the victims' families who do not receive compensation and do not need to be contacted for permission to use their loved ones' likeness. "It's a shame that people can take our tragedy and make money," Hughes said. "The victims never saw a cent. We go through these emotions every day."Dahmer – Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story is the work of celebrated television writer Ryan Murphy who received the Carol Burnett Award at the Golden Globes for his "outstanding contributions to television." The Monster series has been renewed for two more seasons, and Murphy is looking into exploring other terrible people from history. Let's hope he learns from the criticism of Dahmer. Photo courtesy of Amy Sussman/Getty Images
https://www.papermag.com/evan-peters-golden-globes-2659205464.html
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My Thoughts on Tudo Igual SQN
Tudo Igual SQN is a Brazilian Disney+ show that released about a month ago. It includes 10 episodes, all around 30 minutes long. While I watched in Portuguese with Portuguese subs, there are many dubs and subs available for watchers.
My quick review? I enjoyed the show, and you can too as long as you are sure to skip 34:28-36:02 in the final episode. The entire show can easily operate without those 2 minutes and it's much better for it. Beyond this point, there will be spoilers.
In general, I enjoyed the characters, but the supporting cast was far more compelling to me than the main cast. I will summarize my thoughts on the characters below.
Carol: While I often found myself irritated with the character, Carol's struggles and attitude seems realistic for a girl her age. She's upset that she will not be the only object of her mother's affection, she annoyed with a future-stepbrother who is making her life harder, and she feels betrayed when her best friend starts going our with said future stepbrother. She hears her mom discuss her life before having her and feels guilty. All of these things can lead to someone acting out. In the end, she works through these issues. What IS concerning is that in the final episode (and maybe the one before), we start to see some... strange... feelings towards Tomás manifesting themselves in her body language. Then, she lets Tomás kiss her. Her expression and body language after seems somewhat distressed, so maybe it was a fight/flight/freeze response if we're going to give her the benefit of the doubt, but come on... did that really have to happen at all? The show could EASILY stand on its own without that plot point.
Tomás: Yes, his father left him with his grandmother to raise him. Yes, he got picked up and moved to a new city without much input. No, for me, that's not enough to justify his behavior for most of the show. And it's definitely not enough to justify him kissing Carol immediately after their parents tied the knot. I recognize that the two aren't related, and perhaps if they had met before their parents did it would be different, but to me, the knowledge that kissing your step-sibling is weird should be enough to override whatever attraction/hormones would motivate that decision. Like dude, you (sort of) had Beta. Why was this necessary? I appreciate how he becomes less annoying during the show, but I can't let this go.
Beth and Carlos: Beth is a good mother. She's given up a lot for Carol and she deserves happiness. Idk about Carlos. I'm more or less ambivalent about him. I wasn't paying as much attention in a couple of his scenes, so I missed a few things.
Trix: Oh, Trix. Trix is my girl. Trix is so relatable to me. Trix was bullied for being the smart kid and now she's trying her best to fit in while still pursuing academic validation. She's crushed when she isn't accepted into the film program. As a Smart Kid with Social Issues, my accomplishments would fill the void my lack of close friendships left, so not achieving what I set out to achieve hurt with the same intensity of a breakup. I imagine Trix processes things similarly. Trix is also a peacekeeper: she cherishes the friends she has and is very afraid of the group falling apart, another feeling I have related to. I debated for a while whether to hc her as a lesbian or as bisexual, as there could be a compelling argument for both, but I'm kinda feeling lesbian here. For the aforementioned reasons, the unconditional support of Bruno made her feel good, to the point of her perhaps feeling like she was attracted to him. She probably does love him, as a friend, and always will. Figuring out your sexuality when you are a woman who isn't attracted to men is hard because that is what is expected from you, and in the process, you may end up unintentionally hurting people. I have hurt boys I really cared about for that same reason in the past, and I have regret and grief over it. I don't think that makes me a bad person. I don't think that makes Trix a bad person either. Bruno was a little jealous, clingy, but he was a good guy. I think it's important that he was, because it represents a very real situation some girls find themselves in. I hope Trix and Bruno can have an honest conversation, and that Bruno has some time to himself to heal from that, and that they can become good friends again. And I hope Trix has a chance to find a really nice girl. She feels like she must be perfect, so accepting that she likes girls is a battle she has to keep fighting, but she'll get there with help from her friends.
Beta: Beta is realistic for sure. Was (sort of) going out with Tomás in good taste? No. But she doesn't get enough attention from her parents, so naturally she would have a desire to pursue the first boy who gives her the time of day. In the end, she is a good friend to Carol, a better friend to Carol than Carol is to her, so I can't fault her. I don't have much more to say about her. I wish her the best.
Amanda: I love her! She's boy-crazy but again, it's realistic. I've met plenty of girls like her. But it's not the only thing about her. She's incredibly perceptive. She's the only one to notice what's going on with Pri and Trix. She notices other things about the character and gently steers conversations. She's underrated as someone who holds them together. She's definitely one of my favorites.
Pri: Gotta love her. She has already self-actualized in most ways. She knows what she believes in, she's confident, and she's a supportive friend, even as a newer member of the group. Whether or not her and Trix end up together in the long run is not really something I'm concerned about. She played in important role in Trix's journey, and as long as they maintain some sort of relationship, I would be happy.
Bruno: Most of what I have to say about Bruno has already been touched on in Trix's section. He's a good guy. He has his faults, but he really does try. I don't think him and Trix would work out even if she wasn't attracted to girls, because high school relationships that burn that brightly rarely last, but I hope he finds someone good.
Bernardo: A nice guy as well. We respect a reader. Again, he has his faults, but nothing extreme. He's a little jealous, moves a little too fast, but is adequately romantic and a FAR better choice than Tomás for anyone. Hopefully, Carol gets her head on straight. At the same time though, they also have a little bit of HS relationship vibe. I might like a slow burn of Carol and Beta more, but that's just my bias. He's a perfectly good option, and Carol and Beta being very close friends with no romantic undertones is perfectly fine as well.
So, those are my thoughts on the characters. The setting was very aesthetically pleasing, especially the bakery. The conflicts each girl faced felt realistic. If it weren't for the Carol/Tomás kiss, I would wholeheartedly recommend the show to everyone. Why did they do that??? I think the show can be enjoyed if we collectively choose to ignore that. Yes, there are moments throughout that hint at what will happen, but we can ignore those as well. It just has so much potential that I don't want to write it off for that. But at the same time, I’m not sure if it can be ignored. I’m just mad because the cast and characters deserved better than that.
One day, I may rewatch with English subs. I understood the show, but there were definitely turns of phrases I missed just because I don't know some words. Multi-lingual people understand. Still, it was important for me to stretch my Portuguese muscles, which is why I watched it how I did. If you got this far, wow. Thanks for reading. Leave your thoughts in the notes.
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fuck it, text of the whole book BUY IT IF YOU LIKE IT
Thank you for picking up this book. I have tried to bring this into fruition for a few years, but words have failed.
This book is dedicated to the memory of Joshua Richard Bolduc, who died on February 20th, 2008, and his mother and father (and my Aunt and Uncle), Carol Bolduc and Christopher Bolduc.
Though this book does go into detail about the killing, it is not intended as non-fiction and some aspects may not be correct. Also, it’s public knowledge that Josh’s half brother, Matthew Cushing, committed this act of terrible violence that continues to cast a long shadow over all of our lives.
This book is also dedicated to everyone who loved Josh, Carol, and Christopher.
i’m chasing luke through the skatepark,
holding a camcorder
i bought at goodwill for 8 dollars,
i’m shaking, my hands are sweating,
and it's hard to keep the footage stable.
brendan tries to hit a kickflip
but bails before he lands,
missing the concrete, rolling onto the grass.
as i run towards him,
he’s lying on his back, rigid and silent,
pretending to be dead.
‘dude, that was crazy,’ i call
as i run towards him.
i stand over him, and
zoom the camcorder in on his face,
his eyes still closed.
he opens them at once,
and, howling with laughter,
raises his left leg,
pretending to kick me
in the balls.
except he accidentally
uses too much force,
and actually kicks me in the balls--
that ache you can feel everywhere--
in your stomach and teeth.
i collapse beside him,
clutching my groin,
moaning in pain
and howling with laughter,
tears rolling down my cheeks.
today is June 27th, 2007.
i’m 14 years old.
on february 20th, 2008,
at 5:02 p.m, i will die.
but on this early
summer morning,
in old orchard beach maine,
when the tourists
are pouring in from quebec
and filling up the beach
and buying fudge
and french fries
and punching seagulls,
i am in the infancy of my hopes and dreams.
i want to be a filmmaker.
the three of us--luke, jason--
want to start a show like Jackass.
the world is still a path, wide open.
the limits are unknowable.
every possibility is open.
after february 20th,
there will not be a tomorrow.
but today there is one
and it is full and bright.
maybe,
jason, luke and kyle
could come over in the morning
when my mom and dad are both at work
and i could film them doing something dope,
like jumping from the roof into the pool
or maybe luke
would finally nail a kickflip.
and maybe,
later in the afternoon,
as the orange,
hazy summer sun
sets low in the sky
and the seemingly
endless summer day
plods toward
an inevitable sunset
the three of us could walk
down to the beach,
weave in between the crowds
of tourists in speedos,
and watch those slow waves
roll lazily to the shore
backs lit up by the golden hour sun,
the dark creeps up
we’ll realize we are late.
we’ll race home before our
parents figure out where we were.
maybe,
after dinner,
jason, luke and kyle
could come over and play DND.
maybe,
afterwards, the four of us
could cannonball into the pool
deep into the twilight water,
the sticky hot humidity still permeating
through the early darkness.
and the chlorine would set
in my shaggy brown hair
and my dad
would come out, in his boxers,
screaming at us in his high,
nasally voice for being too loud,
and tell my friends to
“get the hell out of here”,
and for me
to get the hell inside.
and as i fell asleep,
no nightmares of death
no idea that even
those clear moments
time marched steadily towards the
murky pinpoint,
a date carved into the near future
where life diverged from me.
skin ripped open by a knife,
my own blood
spilled in the hallway
between my room and the bathroom.
and now, rolling face-down
in the grass in the skatepark,
no one knows the truth.
there is no prophecy,
except for the closed circle
of time.
i have no idea that death is so close,
lips of carrion
breathing down my neck.
and i’m glad
because if i knew
that summer afternoon
would have changed.
time would have slowed and
stopped and
the heat pounding
on all the tarred
asphalt and the dry pointy grass,
and even the cicadas in their summer song
would have sang some grim fortelling;
there would have been panic.
tonight, there is no panic.
just a 14 year old boy
with his friends,
in the summer,
living.
and i could never know that
my murder would be
so unfair, so horribly absolute,
violence fell upon me
the featherlike weight of
the blade slicing my body
slicing skin,
spilling blood.
and i guess it is better that i did not know
that the last moment was truly my last
until life finally drained from me.
time cursed me, but knowledge did not.
that afternoon, I lived fully, laughing, rolling
in the grass.
ignorant to the emptiness of a future
without me,
a future
dulled down
into
in a single sentence,
‘i’m dead.”
-Josh
“Josh is dead.’”
for a while, right after,
i had to remind myself
all the time. i’d wake up,
have a normal thought--
like ‘winter vacation is about to end;’
or ‘i need to finish my English project’
always tailed, stalked by
the nagging thought
‘oh yeah. Josh is dead.’
i’m almost 30. You
died when i was 14.
and still,
this path doesn’t seem real.
it seems like a trick of the mind,
a fabricated reality.
i still can’t believe
there’s no
room for you to make
mistakes,
no room to grow-up,
no place in this trajectory
for you to be anything at all.
and i know i’m almost 30, and i wish I could stop,
but
i walk this cursed place,
looking for you.
every bump at night,
every pattern noticed
is a sign of your presence.
i am not the one who is dead
but i commune with you as I write this,
as i type these words I ask
'where are you? do you need help?"
-Jonny
“in a dream, i tell you that i am not at peace i am still a
slave to time i am still stuck
throwing myself at these closed doors
staring down all of these paths,
paths
decapitated
with my death and i am afraid to tread”
-Josh
“and we stick to each other like a curse.
i itch with the memories of you alive, my soul gnaws at where you have gone,
and i pound with terror when
i think about your death.
the terror has made a nest
in my stomach and a
vacation home in my brain.
it consumes me in ways
i cannot recognize.
i do not know how to help you.”
-Jonny
“jesus Christ,
dude, do anything.
live.”
-Josh
“your spirit is made alive with anger
at what you will never be,
and as i commune with you
i feel that anger,
that righteous hatred of violence,
that righteous thrashing against
the injustice of your death,
i take it and mold the itch
into a hunger and
craft the hunger
into an untouchable pain,
so deep that i could never reach it,
a bruise at the core of my being
that festers
and becomes infected,
a pain
of my own doing,
a pain i know well.
a pain i understand
a pain i take comfort in.”
-Jonny
“dude, i didn’t
die so i could watch
you resist life. you have
moments still where you can feel
the breeze of the sea against your face,
where you can eat a fried dough at
the boardwalk,
where you can have a job,
a child,
a wife,
a friend.
there’s a part of you that died with me, sure.
but this selfish grief is not for me;
it’s so you have an excuse to remain stagnant.
you are attached to this narrative
like a chain
wrapped around your leg.
and you keep
S
I
N
K
I
N
G
.”
-Josh
“we see each other. we
know what is not and never will be.
can we walk towards some peace?
can we move from the burning potential, the wasteland
of your death and move towards a future unbruised and full?
dead brother, will you walk with me into the fire and emerge cleansed?”
-Jonny
“it is a summer day.
i’m damp, and the chlorine
from the pool has set into my skin and hair, sticky.
i sit down in the grass,
grasp a small twig
and snap it absentmindedly.
i close my eyes.
the air is hot and heavy.
the skin at my hairline feels tight,
and tomorrow, i’ll have a sunburn.
i open my eyes.
endless blue. Cicada songs burst out.” -Jonny
“there is no fear in this moment.
you have done nothing wrong.” -Josh.
“still, i am being chased by some nagging terror.” -Jonny
“you could sleep inside of this moment.
you could live inside this string of seconds.
it would be fine. it would be good.
these moments have a place to
nestle and burrow.
i can help you survive.”-Josh
“i don’t listen. i open my eyes.
there is fear.
there is a great sorrow.
there is a catalog of sins
and a host of terrors eating at my soul.” -Jonny
“a grief counselor told me
that in the wild when elephants die
when the grief
lashes up against their huge bodies
they get close to each other,
as close as they can
and they swarm together
and they do not leave
eachother alone
they pull close
they try to protect themselves from
the grief
and the predators
that feast on the
vulnerable
and i don’t know why she told me that.
it did not make me feel any better.
the elephants were better at grief.
when josh died we were screaming
and we were numb
and we were caving in on ourselves
and if i were an elephant
my family would have huddled close up let
that grief wash over us,
shielding each other from the
storm breaking us apart,
protecting each other
from the communal crumbling
but we were humans
and we were screaming
at the empty gods inside of us draining out
and you should know
that in my sleep i am in the bedroom where josh died
and i am in the bedroom where josh died
and i am the tearing of the skin
and i am the violence of a murder
and when i am wake sometimes
i am the hollowed out shell
a shell i’ve inhabited since i was young
and never left
and anyone who may love me,
you should know that
i may inch up towards you
and i may swarm up against
you and in our bed
i may press against you
and steal healing from you
and it may not be fair and
it may not be fair but in my mind
i am howling at the door
left out in the cold with this grief
and i am inching closer trying to swarm and i am inching closer trying to swarm to shield from harm
and i am schooling like silver fish and
i am a murmuration of starlings and i am swerving
in and out of sight and pulsating in the sky
and you should know and you should know--” Jonny
“i don’t know.
i know the pain. i know you attach
your pain onto me. but it’s not my fault.
i’m dead.
you made me a myth.
made me an ‘angel,’
and you think i’ve seen
the kingdom of
heaven or whatever.
you come to me in the night with your
hands shaking,
your breathing rapid and shallow,
in the throws of an anxiety attack,
and you expect me to be able to heal you,
to be able to answer for my soul leaving
like i chose this for myself.
i was a kid when i died.
i was having my
first awkward kisses,
i was skateboarding around town,
smoking weed out of an apple.
my best self never grew up.
who do you think i am?
have you forgotten who i was
when i died?
i have my own questions.
how deep is the soul? how rooted in the body?
does the soul decay, become less? can it gain, become more?
will it travel? can my soul find yours through the static terror of each day?
will it travel with us as we fade into sickness?
will the soul wrap around us?
sink us like a chain tied to an ankle,
or lift us like wings sprouting from the spirit?” -Josh
“five young pallbearers, red-eyed and sniffling,
trying to stifle tears, shoulder to shoulder,
crammed in a limo following behind the hearse.
the interstate leading over the river,
a gentle dusted of mid morning snow;
the crawling motorcade buffered by cops
with flashing blue lights.
you are dead (in the coffin, burned flesh)
your mom and dad have a coffin, too
(Uncle Chris, Aunt Carol, and he even killed the dog--)
looking out over the bridge,
into the Fore River, freezing February,
Casco Bay placid,
blue ocean
lapping where the river
flattened out and met it
in the front seat of the
hearse
i want to take a nap
and meet you again, in a dream. but napping
seems impossible
the limo driver makes some joke
and we answer with a tired laugh.
i haven’t laughed in days, maybe weeks—
all emotions seem
forced, squeezing some reaction,
perfunctory and automated.
it all is, in a way.
the only way to survive is to engage autopilot.
I fully hand myself
over to the ebb and flow.
ebb, meaning a sadness,
something like a tide,
a riptide, powerful,
insurmountable.
i scrape along with it,
bloated and drowning,
too tired to fight,
dragged along the bottom,
washing up again later on some shore,
wondering where i am.
time moves relentlessly,
and in the space between seconds
i feel
like i am surfacing,
swimming up through the dark water,
and gasping to life in some unknown place.
squeezed next to one of Josh’s friends—Luke, i think—
i notice the sleeves of my tuxedo jacket are too short,
my jacket is too tight.
i’ve gained weight.
the attendant at the tux
fitting said that
I need to stop eating so many cheeseburgers.
i cross my arms to give him space.
the shoulders of the jacket threaten to rip out,
but reluctantly hold together.
the heated leather seats make my ass sweaty.
my legs are sore, knees scrunched up against
the glove box .
i’m shivering. i have to piss.
i wonder how much longer we have to drive,
and at once, I remember
what is waiting for us
when we arrive in South Portland
(a dead best friend, a fucking hearse and a casket with his burned bod-), and, at once,
i want the ride to last forever. I close my eyes.
we drive
slowly over the roads
tinged pale gray with salt and ice,
a work truck ahead, flashing yellow,
treating the roads with sand,
sniffling again, all of us, trying to be silent.
and we are silent.
mind wandered from the habitual jabbing—
(oh my fucking god you’re dead)
—to feeling the sting of my eyes,
i wonder how red they are,
if my eyes are as red as the rest.
i didn’t want to cry when others were not crying,
or cry too much, or cry too little.
even in the throes of grief,
teenagers are still self conscious.
at one point or another during this,
we had all cried pretty hard,
sometimes together, sometimes alone,
sometimes embarrassed,
always pulled out
by the fucking riptide.
and there, on that late Feb.
mid morning,
the sad caravan meandering towards the cemetery,
the numbness set in like a
deep bone splitting cold.” --Jonny
“when i died it was february vacation.
i woke up.
the cul-de-sac circle
was coated in snow
and i saw the
flakes gently
swept up by the piercing wind
the absolute blue of the morning
burning a cold
fire in the sky.
i rolled out of bed
and mom and dad
were at the shop down
on the main tourist drag
and even though
the town was empty, hollowed
out at the end of the summer,
tourists gone, leaving the townies
and when the police chief spoke at the smoldering,
charred husk of my house
the next morning
to a rabble of reporters with tv cameras
he said
“the family was not on our radar at all
they owned a business,
were well liked in the community”
amazing how so much can
change from morning to morning,
life slides into
the narrow boundaries of death,
and at 8:45 a.m., I am hovering at the edge of
living,
and i don’t know
that i am going to die
i don't have much to do today;
mom and dad are at work
i let spike, my dog, a puggle,
out of his kennel, and he yawns,
and zooms towards the front door;
i throw on some pants, and a jacket,
and i put a leash on spike to take him outside
and i can’t even comprehend
that spike dies
too
and i can’t even imagine, can’t even
begin to imagine
a world that moves past my
life,
that time could keep flowing
without me.”
-Josh
“when i sat down to write this book, Josh
i thought i’d try to imagine your life
and the years that were stolen from you;
i thought i would imagine you as a 29 year old
i thought i could predict what job you’d have,
who you would love,
what kind of jokes you could make,
what kind of video games you would play
but i
jesus
His
Cr t
I DON’T EVEN
REMEMBER WHAT
YOU
SOUND
LIKE
oh my god;
I DON’T EVEN
REMEMBER WHAT YOU SOUND LIKE.
-jonny
“i meet you in a dream.
it is a place beyond time, beyond death.
before you ask, yes, i am dead. you have
lived in a world without me for 15 years.
15 years of looking behind,
15 years of searching for me in the silence,
15 years of expecting violence to leak out into each day;
15 years of looking for knives
when you should
be looking for life.
half your life has been tethered to the knowledge
that life could end in a flash
that no one is ever safe from some terrible
end, from dying alone, scared, in pain,
bleeding out on the carpet.
half your life has been chained
to that february night,
chained to the daze of grief, chained to a brother
a brother lost
and my death has given you something to look for,
something to latch on you
someone to mythologize
someone to blame
for the way
you are.
you know me dead longer than you knew me alive.
but let us return
to that summer night
late, watching jackass
the one
where he swallows the goldfish
let us return to you dragging me by the ankles
into the lake
and that fourth of july
with the sky exploding
above us
and that fourth of july
sitting, watching
and that fourth of july
unburdened
and in this dream,
i come to you
with bolt cutters.
UNHINGE, RISE UP
NO TETHERS,
NO CHAINS,
NO KEEPING.
RISE UP, NO MORE
SAD AND DISTANT,
NO MORE RAISING
THE DEAD
EVERY MORNING
UNHINGE AND RISE UP, BROTHER.
MEET ME IN THIS FIRE.
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My favorite holiday
By: Mariella Angela H. Olden (December 17, 2023)
Growing up, I have always loved the cherished traditions that mark the Christmas season in our country. While other nations celebrate Thanksgiving at the onset of December, Filipinos, including myself, start to build our Christmas tree at home as soon as the "Ber months" commence. Christmas carols would be everywhere, and Christmas lights would light up every house in the streets. No place in the world could come close to the Christmas spirit here in the Philippines.
During my childhood, I have always believed in Santa Claus. Whenever it was the 1st day of December, I would write letters to Santa. Color it red and green, and draw it with symbols of Christmas. I used to be artistic as a kid. I loved writing and giving letters. My parents would tell me I had to finish it as soon as I could so they could send it to Santa through the post office. On Christmas Eve, I sleep early with excitement because I know Santa will come to our house along with his reindeers afterwards. Each morning of Christmas, I would wake up with joy, seeing my wish come to life. It goes on without fail every year. It was then that I came to the realization, just like in the movies, that Santa Claus was, in fact, not true but rather a legendary figure, a Christmas character who served as a charming tale that made children believe in the reward of their wishes if they behaved well to their parents throughout the year. Well, as for me, I found out when I was ten that the real Santa Claus in my life was my father and my mother, who made sure to give me the material gifts such as toys I wanted and written in my letter, all in the pursuit of my happiness. I am forever thankful and grateful for them.
Being the eldest in a Filipino household, I grew up celebrating Christmas together with my extended family. We would set up our Christmas trees and decorate our homes with lanterns and Christmas lights. Attending every Simbang Gabi and completing the nine-day masses have also become a tradition. After the mass, our evenings were sweetened with the delights of puto bumbong or bibingka as dessert after dinner. Each year, we plan a specific theme, pairing our attires with it, and the chosen best outfit is awarded a prize. By the night of Christmas, we would play different games for children and adults. Another segment of the program is the performances of every family, which they prepared days prior. The highlight of the night is whenever we exchange gifts together. Much of our memories were made up of the preparations, the holiday foods, and the shared stories. Our family makes time to celebrate together every Christmas. For most, this is just typical. But for mine, it is one of a kind.
As the year passes and another Christmas season approaches, a faint but deep ache of sadness settles in. Memories of our previous celebrations flashback, marked by the presence of every family member – parents, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, children, and the inclusion of some close friends. There's a noticeable difference between those treasured times and now. Even while most are still with us to celebrate this holiday, the absence of others creates a shadow that highlights the hole left by those who are no longer here to join us in our seasonal gathering. I missed them, and I missed celebrating Christmas with them.
As the song goes, this is the season to be jolly. The season of joy and a time dedicated to celebrating the birth of Jesus. Beyond that, for us, it also serves as a period of reflection to look back on all the events and experiences we've had in that year. As we approach the end of the year, it becomes a powerful reminder that we have conquered the challenges, and we look forward to the promise of a new year: a fresh start and a new beginning.
Now, in my adulthood, I've come to recognize that the true essence of Christmas is still there. It never left. Despite the absence of some loved ones I wish were still here with us, their spirit and unwavering love remain in our hearts. If someone were to ask me what my favorite holiday is, without hesitation, I would still answer them with a smile on my face: it is Christmas. My sentiment extends beyond our traditions but lies in the joy of sharing this wonderful season with my favorite people.
If I were given the opportunity to make a wish to Santa again, my wish would not revolve around materialistic things anymore. Instead, my heartfelt wish would be providence, continuous good health of our family, and, most of all, to relive the magic of Christmas, not only this year but also in the years to come, just like the old times.
***
Mariella Angela H. Olden, 18, is a Biology freshman at the Polytechnic University of the Philippines. She wishes to celebrate the holidays again with her family, just like the old times.
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Dr. Mother Love Cool & TLC: on An uncomfortable conversation about ELDERLY ABUSE, stealing, fraud, physical abuse, Mental abuse, loneliness, sexual abuse 7 kinds of abuse.
Father's Day & Juneteenth Celebrations
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And Now A Story About Our Kitty and Savior!
By RnD Young-Howze
If you haven’t noticed we at the Young-Howze Theatre Journal love the Holidays, especially Christmas. We start watching Christmas movies on November 1, plus we celebrate Christmas Sommore on the 18th of January and Christmas in July on the 25th. We have seen every adaptation of “A Christmas Carol” known to man (and some known only to dolphins) and we could go on a rant about all of them. However, that is not the real reason for the season. No, our literal savior was born of lowly origin on Christmas 2017 and entered our hearts in the year of 2018. So allow us this moment to proselytize.
What did you think we were talking about Jesus?!? Hell no! The Black socialist rabbi known as Yeshua of Nazareth was most likely born in April. If you follow us at all you have seen photos of our cat, daughter, and demon familiar Baby Grey. She came into our lives when we bought this trailer. We spent the first three months of 2018 homeless. On December 14, 2017 Dana’s stepdad sent them to the hospital and illegally evicted us. We had to stay in motels while we desperately searched for a solution. It wasn’t until March that we found the trailer that we called home.
Dana was depressed as hell. They had it the worst. Ricky was still going off to sub everyday and Dana was left at home the whole day wondering whether or not their stepdad was going to start trouble again. Their life changed the minute that they found out that we sat on a massive feral cat colony. It started with just leaving some old lunch meat outside and watching dozens of cats descend upon it. Then we bought cat food and started to name the ten or so regulars that we had. Mainly we would name them after a defining characteristic: the mama cat was Mama, the one with gray stripes was Tiger, the littlest of the gray cats was Baby Grey and so on.
That’s when we started noticing something about that “littlest of the gray cats” soon enough she started being the only one around. Cats twice her size would keep their distance from her. Then we noticed that she started living under our porch. Then we noticed that she was fiercely territorial. We noticed that she would hate any other cat that came up to get pets from us. Very soon we weren’t feeding a colony of feral cats. One very tough cat had adopted us.
You wouldn’t imagine the effect this had on Dana. Dana had to leave everything when they left their house. That was the house their birth father had bought for their Mother and them. That was the house they always knew they had even when they traveled from base to base as an army kid. Mainly they had to leave the dog they had raised from a puppy because, technically, she belonged to her parents. They had never spent a day of their life without a pet in the house. The three months of homelessness and then an empty house hurt to the bone. So knowing that everyday there was a furry little creature outside that depended on them for food was a lifesaver.
Eventually we got Baby Grey inside. Eventually we even got to get her to stay inside. She adopted (more like kidnapped) six runt kittens from other litters and gave them to us to raise. She’s not really the motherly type. (That’s another story entirely.) When we finally got her into the vet we thought she had to be a kitten or at least a few months old. Nope she was just a tiny, underfed eight month old. We did the math and figured that she had to have been born within a few days of Christmas. We decided to fudge the dates and say that she was our Christmas miracle (hey it worked for the Christians).
We fixed the underfed problem right away. In return she fixed our hearts and our spirits. Sometimes a pet is that thing you need to set your priorities straight. We needed a house so that the cats could be warm. We needed a job so the cats could be fed. Yes that meant that we would be warm and fed but that's besides the point. No matter how depressed or hopeless we get, that little purring ball of fur begging for food every day reminds us that we have to get our priorities straight. And that’s why we call Baby Grey Young-Howze our Christmas Savior.
If you love us and what we do we have an end of the Year fundraiser going on. Giving even a little bit helps.
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Anime Update V2 56
Tokyo Magnitude 8.0 - Welp, I made it through the series in-tact. Finished the last two episodes and am done with it with one final “M/ELODY”. The presence of Ghost Yuki really did do so much to elevate this last stretch; even if you’re not fooled by him being there and can see the twist coming, the big reveal of the twist is so much more effective when he’s there to even say, in Yuki’s own voice, that Yuki died three episodes back. As crushing as the whole ordeal was, it made sense that a heavy price would have to be paid in this tragic disaster story, and what price heavier than one of our most central characters? I almost cried along with Mirai and her family, and it hurt to see Mirai fall into the depression that Ghost Yuki as her coping mechanism had shielded her from, but seeing Mari once more and getting closure on the whole experience helped to make it better. A stunningly well done short anime...just not one I’d choose to revisit.
Hunter x Hunter - OK, I am starting to get to where the Chimera Ant forces are kind of working against the show, in that I’m actually not as enthused to be watching Gon and Killua or any of our main good guys because the bad guys are so damn mesmerizing whenever we cut to them saying or doing whatever. I could look at these guys and listen to their internal squabbles and plan-making for an entire episode, that’s how powerful their intrigue is, and we’ve still not even reached the birth of the King yet! While now I’ve seen the first kills of Ant leaders, the creepy guys who used enslaved humans like dogs, rabbit-faced Rammot has unlocked the power of Nen in his body, meaning that things are about to only get more difficult from here!
Fruits Basket - Really creepy, squeamishly unpleasant episode that gave more focus and insight into Shigure and Akito, already two of the show’s most villainous figures, and what their relationship is really all about. One sighting of Shigure and Mitsuru is enough to get Akito jealous and paranoid, and she snaps at Shigure for a past incident where Shigure slept with Akito’s mother Ren, which he did as a petty sort of “payback” on Akito for sleeping with Kureno. And then the two of them end up making out with each other, with Shigure revealing he’s been waiting for Akito to truly love him ever since Akito was a child, as he’s loved her from the day she was born. EWWW.
Re:ZERO - As I brought up as a “Christmas In July” post, I watched the Memory Snow special. It was absolutely thoroughly delightful. No straightforward narrative to speak of other than what Emilia Camp and the villagers did in a situation where Puck’s magic overloaded and generated snow and ice all over the area, but getting to spend more time with these characters and watch their antics left the biggest, dumbest smile on my face for the duration of it. It’s not really a “holiday special” but it just creates a Christmas-y mood the more it goes on, reaching its pinnacle in a stunningly beautiful climax. There is an underlining bittersweetness since this all takes place between Arc 2 and Arc 3, so we know Subaru and co. have hard times ahead. But in some ways, that only makes this thing all the more magical.
Fate/Stay Night Unlimited Blade Works - Saber and Shirou do sparring together, Rin and Shirou eat and talk on the school rooftop, Shinji launches a Golem attack inside the school but gets defeated. Not much to say other than if in the future we somehow ever got new El Hazard content to be dubbed, Kyle McCarley would be a perfect replacement VA for Jinnai - so much Jinnai energy in his delivery!
Symphogear GX - Two episodes seen, two of Carol’s creepy doll servants taken down. The first one put a lot of focus on Maria and the crisis of confidence she was having since last time, and the second one put just as much focus on Kirika and Shirabe as they start to grow out of their bad girl habits and learn what it means to work as part of the team responsibly and without holding anything down as a burden, and I just fucking love these two lovestruck dumbasses so goddamn much. Between these was the most interesting part: Hibiki meets her dad again. Her dad seems like the biggest, skeeviest and most irresponsible louse in the world, and talking to him only for a little while is more than Hibiki can bear. This’ll be trouble for us all, as troubling as Carol recovering and spying through Elfnein’s eyes!
Eureka Seven - Almost another totally goofy episode where Gekko State get around to doing something they apparently really wanted to do: hazing Renton by sending him on phony mission, which is being followed and caught on film by Moondoggie. The interesting twist here is that Moondoggie used to be the youngest and victim to his teammates hazing, one who gave up on such bogus missions easier, and he’s jealous of Renton now that he’s getting that “honor” instead! So naturally this culminates in Renton and Moondoggie in a beyond awkward “date” where Renton is clueless and Moondoggie is pissed. Hilarity ensues, and Renton manages to impress the crew by seeing it all through in spite of the humiliation. On the side there’s scenes with Dewey evaluating the remains of a Scub Coral assault to give his findings to the Federation Council, and the very last scene was surprisingly grim: Holland wants to distract his mind, is watching the footage of Renton’s hazing mission and at around a part where Renton’s saying things about himself that clearly Holland deep down believes applies to he himself, Holland calls himself “so uncool.”
Gintama - Another two story episodes where the first segment did nothing for me, but the second one with the big alien cockroaches was a riot, especially with how it ended. More comedy like that, plz?
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Character States: Orphan, Wanderer, Warrior, Martyr
As the protagonist goes through the journey of the story, she goes through four states of being. I've heard these called "orphan," "wanderer," "warrior," and "martyr." While I've talked about them elsewhere, I've never done a post specifically on them, so thought it was about time I do that.
Unfortunately, I'm not sure where this concept originates. Someone once told me it's from The Hero's Journey, but I've read Campbell's Hero with a Thousand Faces and Vogler's The Writer's Journey books, and while you can argue The Hero's Journey embodies these, they didn't explain the protagonist's role in this exact way. Someone else told me it may have come from the book, The Hero Within by Carol S. Pearson, but that book was first published in 2013, and I've definitely heard this concept before that. Larry Brooks includes these exact states of being in his book Story Engineering, but I know they predate that volume, at least in some form.
In any case, this approach is another tool to look at the protagonist's role in the journey, and early on in my own writing journey, I found them very helpful. They might be helpful to you too.
Each state of being can be literal, but more often they are figurative. Let's dig in.
Orphan (Beginning)
At the beginning of the story, the protagonist is often in an "orphan" state, literally or figuratively.
Literal
There are plenty of protagonists who lack both parents--Harry Potter, the Baudelaire orphans, Peter Parker, Frodo, Cinderella, Elsa and Anna . . . the list goes on. I've heard many people voice wonderment at just how many protagonists are orphans.
There are a few reasons for this:
1) If you are writing children's or YA literature, it's an easy way to get the adults out of the way so that the kids are the ones solving problems. (In modern times, however, there has been a push to find and use other workarounds or to involve adults more.)
2) It's sympathetic. We sympathize with characters who have lost parents.
3) It's mythic. It's archetypal. At some point in our lives, in some sense, we all feel a bit like an orphan--we must learn to go on our own adventures and meet our own challenges without our parents. Mama and Dada won't always be there when the going gets tough.
Perhaps just as common is a protagonist who is a "half-orphan" so to speak--lacking one parent. Most Disney princesses lack a mother. In many modern stories, the protagonist may lack a father.
Sometimes the parents are alive, but the protagonist is separated from them in some way--by war, working abroad, or boarding school.
But that veers into the figurative realm. . . .
Figurative
A figurative orphan is somehow separated from parents, family, loved ones, or society. Basically, they are somehow set apart from other characters. They are usually lacking in a meaningful relationship or need to turn a dysfunctional relationship into something healthy.
Here are some examples:
- Emotionally isolated from a parent
- So career-focused they don't have meaningful relationships
- A father who doesn't connect with his son
- A genius who can't relate to the ordinary people around her
- A celebrity who feels alone because no one can see past his brand to see the real him
- A student who has no friends at school
- A backpacker who is away from all her loved ones
In some cases, the protagonist may just be seen as "different" from those around them, and unable to live a fulfilling (or authentic) life.
Another way to look at this that might be more encompassing, is to recognize that the beginning of the story is the time to individualize your protagonist. Show the audience how she is characteristically unique from those (or the world) around her. What makes her, her?
Wanderer (Middle, Part 1)
After the setup of the story, something enters the protagonist's world that disrupts the established normal--this may be an opportunity or it may be a problem (or both). The protagonist must make a decision on how to move forward and address the disruption.
At this point, the protagonist is like a wanderer. A wanderer doesn't know exactly what she is doing or where she is going. She's going in some direction, because she is in motion, but she's largely responding and reacting.
She has entered a new situation, and isn't quite sure how things work. In many stories, this is where the protagonist will learn new "rules" about the "new world," and/or will learn new skills. So in Pixar's Soul, Joe learns the layout of the Great Before and how it works. In Harry Potter, Harry begins learning about the Wizarding World and how it works. In Legally Blonde, Elle begins learning about how her new law school works.
As a wanderer, the protagonist often accumulates sidekicks, mentors, friends, partners, and anyone else that is going to help her on her journey. If these characters were already introduced or foreshadowed in the setup, we'll now get to know their "true identities" (figurative or literal) and "magical abilities" (figurative or literal). In Soul, Joe meets 22, Moonwind, Jerry, Jerry, Jerry, Jerry, and Terry 😉. Harry meets Ron and Hermione. And Elle runs into a couple of people who end up being part of her journey.
Warrior (Middle, Part 2)
About halfway through the story, the protagonist either learns something significant or gains something significant, which leads to him becoming more proactive than before. This is the midpoint, and he becomes more like a warrior, ready to go on the attack. According to Larry Brooks, he may literally fight back, hatch a plan, enlist assistance, demonstrate courage, or show initiative.
He may not always be successful (after all, the story isn't over), but he is brave and intentional.
Usually, the protagonist will use whatever it is he learned from being a wanderer, as a warrior.
In Mulan, after Mulan wanders around and learns how to be a soldier, she proves herself. The soldiers learn they are needed in battle. In this situation, Mulan literally becomes a warrior as she goes to fight the Huns.
In Interstellar, Cooper learns that Plan A was just a sham, and that the real plan isn't to save people on Earth. He becomes more determined to do whatever it takes to return to Earth and/or save those living there.
Martyr (End)
The middle usually has its own climax, with an "all is lost" moment, which is what it sounds like. It feels as if everything has been lost. The protagonist fought as a warrior, but still hit a major setback. Often this is external, but sometimes it's only internal.
There is typically something that the protagonist needs to sacrifice (usually the protagonist's "want"), in order to succeed (in getting the "need"). At this point, the protagonist becomes a martyr.
The protagonist becomes willing to give up her "life" to succeed in beating the antagonist.
In many stories, the protagonist may need to be willing to literally give up her life. She may even die and come back to life. Or she may simply be in danger of dying in order to beat the antagonist.
In other stories, the protagonist may need to be willing to figuratively give up his life--or perhaps better said, his lifestyle. He may need to stop obsessing over his career. He may need to officially throw off his cowardly tendencies. He may need to stop pretending to be something he is not.
Often only as a martyr, does the protagonist succeed.
Now, if you aren't writing a positive character arc, and are instead writing a negative one, the variation to this is that the protagonist never learned or was willing to fully transform into the martyr. He refused to give up what he wanted. He's unwilling to sacrifice his old life and become someone better. Because of this, he falls into self-damnation. He might be a fierce warrior, but that's the end of his progression.
Closing Thoughts
Hopefully, if you've been following me for a while, you'll know that I pretty much never say one tool is right for everyone and every story. But I will say this approach will probably be useful for most writers and most stories. This is simply a breakdown of the protagonist's role in relation to story structure and plot. Because of this, nearly any protagonist will fit into these states of beings--whether they are a poor, homeless orphan, or as rich and influential as a millionaire.
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