Identity reveal shazamily fic idea:
They're fighting some big bad in a huge cave or throne room or in an air pocket miles underwater (the Rock?) and the league and shazamily are all there, every two stuck in separate areas (magic barriers? Cave ins? Enemies simply not letting them close?).
The roof is starting to collapse. Billy catches it, but with his powers divided, he's struggling. With a time limit before he falls, the battle intensifies.
Mary and her jl partner fells her opponent first, and looks across the room just in time to see him stagger under the crushing weight. She cannot reach him (in time?). They meet each others eyes. The wisdom of Solomon, or perhaps Mary batson, has an idea.
In a crash of thunder, she detransforms, in front of their enemies, and the entire justice league.
With power returned, captain marvel stands a bit straighter. The roof grows heavier. Cracks scatter across the high ceiling.
As Mary is carried to safety, the family understands what they must do.
In conjunction with the league member they were trapped with, they work to defeat their opponents, and one by one transform, each time revealing people too small, too young. The crash of thunder marks each victory. Rubble starts to fall and shake the earth as the league members pull their partners to safety, gathering together by the entrance, bandaging their wounds. All eyes are on Marvel, trapped under a great pillar of stone. (They have been working with him for years now, but each of his family has been revealed to be children. Is he, too?) Each time he raises the ceiling a little higher, and each time it grows heavier as the battles and the ticking clock destabilise the thousands of tons above.
At last, the final group win, and exhausted league members piggy back the last child hero over the rubble.
All are evacuated, but Marvel cannot move. Rapid power transfer and hours of stress have taken their toll, and he needs to transform back as well.
Finally, finally, green lantern and superman reach him, and with their help he is freed, collapsing to the side in relief. No one says a word.
With one final lightning strike, the last member of the team is revealed.
He's twelve years old.
And the league needs to take them all to safety.
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let me start by saying, I'm okay to agree to disagree on this, and I respect you greatly as my queer elder. I hesitate to even send this because I don't think this cause is worth dogpiling (and not even the fun way) on anyone against and , like , I will continue to follow and admire you as a mutual who has been through a lot of the hell that I'm going through right now and got to a place I want to someday be. (for context, I am currently housing & food insecure and am trying to live in a queer-accepting city)
Posting will never be praxis, you are my brother in arms no matter what you call trump or cops or whatever. There are some fat liberation blogs that take issue with calling cops "pigs" for a lot of the reasons I bristle at calling Trump a fatass, and like, if someone is actively fighting cops who can and will actively hurt me and my found family, I don't care what names they shout while doing it. So I see where you are coming from and I'm glad you fight for me. I fight for us too, in what little ways I can while I keep me and my found family afloat. I do better work in the community just by existing around people as a living breathing transgender than I could do in a million posts on this website.
I do think that this is a valuable conversation to have, though, even though you are completely right that this is a trivial thing and not at all the bigger, more real issue at hand. I think it's still important, on online platforms such as this, to talk about how we refer to the other people on this planet.
Think about why you didn't call Trump a "retard". You certainly could have, it doesn't *not* apply to some of his behavior. I know people of our generations once used that word a lot, and we don't anymore. Why and when did we change that? I honestly don't remember. For me, my aunt was medically classified as "retarded" and she was the best person I'd ever met, so I decided that word shouldn't mean bad things. The first time I ever hit someone was over them using that word in a derogative way. it wasn't about "mental illness positivity" it was about humanizing the people that word has been used against - people who have been stigmatized and oppressed with that word.
Right now, hopefully, the same thing is happening to the word "obese". Fat people are less likely to be hired, granted loans or secure housing. they can be kicked out of airplanes and fired from their jobs because of their body size. There have been laws proposed to take fat children away from their parents and "treatments" proposed to wire children's jaws shut and starve them to make them thinner. They are often medically mistreated and misdiagnosed. I once went to a doctor with an ear infection and instead of antibiotics, he prescribed me *bariatric surgery.* I have been refused transgender top-surgery because of my BMI, which keeps me at a passively higher risk for self-injury and worse.
I do not care about body positivity. Honestly, between being fat, trans, and poor, I'm at a point where I've given up on ever feeling good about my body again. All I care about is getting jobs and meds and keeping a roof over my family's head and food on our table. Normalizing the idea that fat is a bad thing that anyone can change continues that stigma. When you use Fat as an insult, you are saying fat=bad. Fat is a neutral thing that some bodies can be, like short or tall or lean. The revolution needs to be intersectional, and body size is another axis of oppression that needs to be acknowledged, just like sexuality, gender, race, class, disability, etc.
If you've gotten this far, thank you for hearing me out. I'm sorry that others are just performatively parroting the same things over and over. Civility is bullshit, and if you still want to use body shaming as one of the ways you fight against bigotry, it doesn't really matter to me. Just as long as you acknowledge anti-fat bias as part of that bigotry too.
Thank you for writing and sharing your life experiences with me, and for your solidarity as well. You're striving to make your way as part of a despised minority in a world that's turned unspeakably harsh toward you in an aggressively mean way seemingly overnight, and I admire you for the life you have lived, for your courage and perseverance during this difficult time where resources are scant and your housing and food security is uncertain at best.
(FWIW, after I was bombed out of my Lower Manhattan home on September 11th, my income went from six figures down to nothing overnight, and I was homeless and destitute for years. Twenty years ago, I was where you are now, and I can tell you that what you're enduring today will not last forever, that there is light and hope and blessing in your future, that you're not as alone as you might think, that you must never give up.)
What more can I do to make the point that "fat" has nothing to do with this? As I've said, I grew up obese, and it wasn't until I enlisted in the Army at age 17 that I was able to free myself from my violent and abusive family and unlock the potential of the body that had been hidden under layers of fat and shame all my life. I know that my path is not for everybody, that many others are not so fortunate, and I ceased long ago to think that fat equals bad or lack of character or any other pejorative attitude that society has attached to it for generations. I hope I've made that clear and that you take my word as truth.
I am not saying "let's fat-shame Donald Trump to make him feel bad." I am saying that I'm deeply troubled by the LGBTQ+ community prioritizing hurt feelings over the very real damage that's being done to us right now all over the country by Trump, his minions, his proxies, and his cult of bloodthirsty followers and worshippers.
Trump's accomplices in Congress and state legislatures and Moms For Liberty are taking over school boards all over the country, banning books and emptying library shelves and harassing teachers and librarians to the point where they're being run out of town, where the State of Missouri has defunded its entire public library system rather than follow a court order to restore books banned just for featuring LGBTQ+ characters.
DeSantis and Abbott have put in place policies that are unspeakably brutal, that are forcing trans people in Florida to slowly and brutally revert to their pre-transition state, that have given health care providers in Florida the right to deny treatment to you and me and all LGBTQ+ people because we are gay, lesbian, non-binary, trans... but God forbid we should call Trump mean names!
We've seen what happens when we buy into the "when they go low, we go high" fantasy pipe dream. This is not the way the world works, it has never been, and we need to put this loser idea in the trash bin where it belongs once and for all.
We're being attacked and harmed in unspeakable ways that are happening now. This is not theoretical or hypothetical. It's happening to us, to those we love, this minute and every minute of every day. And worse is in the pipeline - they're writing laws that will place us under virtual house arrest, that will regulate where we're allowed to go in our own cities and towns, when we're allowed to be seen in public, when and where we can shop, how we're allowed to dress, even what we're allowed to say and SING, for Christ's sake!
And I'm supposed to be concerned about some minuscule hypothetical percentage of my own people being OFFENDED because I'm somehow being insensitive and violating some trivial picayune social justice warrior philosophy, because there's a possibility of some fragile flower taking it personally, and that I should shut my mouth and let the MAGA nutjobs run roughshod over us? Oh, come let Daddy kiss it! while our brothers and sisters are suffering in real time. Sickening.
Anyone who has a problem with my stance doesn't have to follow me or emulate my proven effective tactics as an activist with 37 years of successfully defending our rights under my belt if they're so dainty and delicate and easily bruised. Everyone else that sees this for the strawman bullshit it is, get ready to hit the streets with bullhorns and whistles once again. We've got work to do.
Your arguments are strong and well-reasoned, and I accept and acknowledge everything you're saying. We can disagree on this, certainly, and still work together to turn back the progress that the MAGAs are making, restore our rights, and protect ourselves and each other. But that will require the snowflake contingent among us to get their collective head out of their collective ass, stop whining, and get with the damn program. Calling me names and telling me I'm being a bad gay activist is a waste of time and energy that should be spent fighting the fascists and the haters who are out to kill us.
And to you, my friend and fellow traveler with a radiantly beautiful soul and spirit, I urge you to hang in there, to keep the faith, to keep caring about life, to work with me to secure our own future and the future of our kind. I send to you my very best wishes, energy, and prayers that you will find your way to a place of health, security, stability, and love for yourself and for this precious community to whom we've both dedicated our lives, who mean the world to us.
Yours In Service,
Animal J. Smith
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how's the job hunt going? would you ever relocate for a job love?
Oh wow what a question lol! Honestly i dont expect to be able to find anything new till this strike is over, the competition is insane right now. In the meantime my plan is to teach myself faster hard surface sculpting in z*brush using hockey gear \o/ mostly because i dont want to pay the $150 a month for maya, that shits insane. Like a fucking health insurance payment.
For the second question - i dont think i've ever experienced love like that. I think it would take a lot of devotion and sacrifice to give up your dreams for someone else. Admirable, for sure. And also a sacrifice that historically women are the ones expected to make. Every time. :( For a job? Lol, i would move in a heartbeat. I stayed in pittsburgh 6 years after college for my dream job - i only left when i lost it. Knew the next dream job wasnt going to be there, so made my way to LA. And now im having to come to terms with the idea that the dream job doesnt exist as i imagined it - or only exists for a very VERY select few.
And actually, thats not totally true about me and love. I think if i thought for one second that nick could love me back like i diid him, id already be in new england. When i applied to this one job, that sounded like a dream come true it listed the salary, and brian and i just read it and gaped. We looked at each other and i was like i dont even know what the fuck i would DO with all that. And of course the first thing that popped into my mind was i could buy that sailboat nick always talked about. When i was writing my programming textbook a decade ago, and really going through it, and nick and i were up until 3 or 4am every night painting theater sets, he'd talk about his sailing adventures, teach me rope knots, that sort of thing, basically a mental escape. And so last week i texted him like 'hey no promises but what if im suddenly actually making good money. Do you still want that boat?' Because, nick's worked so long and so hard and all he's gotten to is the point of still working on boats other people own, and its just not fair how devalued physical labor is, you know? And his immediate reaction was to launch into our very old daydream - the whole 'yes and you're coming with me, sail off into the sunset' stuff. And that hadnt occured to me - my idea was just- id give him the boat, and he'd fix it up, and id maybe demand photos or a visit or two every so often. Because i think finally -finally- im at a point in my life where being in love isnt enough - i want the other person to love me back. And lol definitely not someone who declares love one minute and then stops talking to me for weeks or months, and the cycle repeats over and over. I think its possible to love someone enough that you recognize you arent the one for them, but still want them to be happy? Happier than you could make them.
So long answer is yes, i would relocate for love, but i have learned the hard way to know when i shouldn't.
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