#(At least nothing about aging that I remember)

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

I always feel pretty dumpy after getting dumped. Tonight was no different. I decided to walk the grounds one last time, and the tranquil beauty of the gardens seemed extra mean somehow. Like I was walking through something beautiful that I never even got a chance to miss. No chance to enjoy. Just rejection. Again. And the same message, though at least this time they tried to be kind about it.

Please never practice magic like that again. Bards were mages until you were too good at singing. Then things got suspicious to the headmasters. Song could be such a powerful tool and manipulate people across the field the way that death could. Put death and song together and humans always got so uncomfortable. And when it came to humans, nothing was more unlucky than a sweet death. They say the way they want to die is old and in bed surrounded by their families but...it's never true. Every single one of them secretly yearns for some kind of glory in their hearts, and it just rots and rots and rots as they age. I'd know. I'm human too. But I'm also banshee and people can just feel it. Especially those who are academically inclined. In some cultures they saw us as prophets... until they learned that the angels sing in our ears and fall out of our throats. Also people only like the idea of prophets. Tell them enough future truth and they start looking for the matches and rope. Or a crucifix.

Bewitchment. Enchantment. Manipulation. No one wants to invite a banshee to the table where everyone is sweet and happy and alive with rosy cheeks and laughing eyes.

I'm an omen. It's kind of lonely. But I get it. I suppose if I were someone else I'd feel the same.

I found myself in a gazebo near the tallest of the little sculpted waterfalls in this garden. I liked the way the water sang and flowed as it poured itself over the rocks. It was summer, so there were fireflies, and I could get back to being lost in my thoughts a bit as I watched the way they all twinkled around each other. My son used to say they were all teleporting. I laughed at him, kissed the top of his head, and earmarked that for later because that might be something he ends up being keen at. My daughter used to say she had the power of the forest when she was very young, and gods if she couldn't tell you exactly what creatures were thinking when they wanted something. The more specific the better with my daughter.

I shifted, crossing my legs over each other and anchoring my elbows on the wooden railing and letting my chin fall heavily into my palms. I closed my eyes and breathed slowly, trying to catch and understand the direction and pattern to the way the wind blew tonight. The air smelled like roses and jasmine and I looked up to see the little white flowers hanging from their vines right above me. There were lanterns of golden light and everything felt smoky and indigo. A moonlit darkness that was so easy to see around but too misty to see through.

Was it the song, I wondered? I replayed the interview in my mind. I've been learning how to perform on a stage and have gotten to this point where I fall fully into the music. I don't let my mind control the song anymore, but trust my heart to attune and express it authentically. Sometimes my heart sounds drunk or bitter. Sometimes it sounds like delight and perfection. Today... I couldn't remember. I'd found that I could trick people into thinking maybe I was some sort of reformed cleric turned bard if I sang religious songs. Today I considered a shanty because those work too. But in the end I settled on a lullaby and at first everyone looked peaceful and happy but then that look came into their eyes when they realized where they were and what was going on.

Someone told me once that it was frightening to find yourself suddenly disarmed, especially if being vulnerable wasn't something you were used to being with people. I saw that happen in real time today, and suddenly understood what he meant.

Yay, more awareness.

That brought a bit of temper to my system so I stood up and walked over to the stream to sit down. The grass was wet but I didn't care. I took off my shoes and put them into the water that ran clear and cold over a stone bottom. It was deep enough to cover my ankles. I put my palms to the earth behind me, took a deep breath, and let my head fall back as I sighed it out.

I was so fucking disappointed.

But, I'd still done it. I took the chance. I learned something. All of it sucked. I'd maybe built a few sandcastles in my mind about how my life would fit into the routine that school would have brought me. I let myself sit and grieve what was never mine but still felt lost to me. I imagined the tide of this rejection crushing all the sandcastles in one giant wave. I felt my emotions rise out of my heart, making my throat sore, took another deep breath, and sighed as I let the tears release the sadness and flow down my cheeks like the current at my feet.

Fuck, I really really wanted something else to happen. I wanted the outcome I wanted. And I didn't want any other outcome. I didn't want to go to another school. I didn't want to look at other schools. I didn't want to be a bard if I couldn't go to this school. I didn't want anything.

My body shook with a little sob as my shoulders slumped back.

I didn't want anything ever again and-

Suddenly I was laughing, and I just collapsed. I laughed and cried at the same time and rolled around in the grass. If I was going to be a fucking child like this about this I was going to commit and be a child. My heart was broken a little bit and the grass was so wet and awful but it smelled so good. I closed my eyes and cursed as I realized my hair was going to be wet now that I did this and...

There was a cough and a "Ma'am?"

I froze like a rabbit. Then I closed my eyes tighter just in case this was a dream and I could escape the inevitable embarrassment of someone from the school that rejected me seeing me rolling around in the grass like an animal. The moments clicked by awkwardly and I didn't cut to the next scene, so I opened my eyes to face the music.

Security guard. Handsome. I always liked a man in uniform. Flirting was not going to help me escape embarrassment but it could make this story more interesting. As though he were reading my mind, his face darkened with an expression that read plainly don't even try it. Great, a challenge. The only thing I can't resist. His arms crossed as we both seemed to take in each other's character in this particular moment. He scowled deeper.

I sat up like a naughty child and patted at my hair, then shook it out like a dog would. He was watching closely. My head tilted to the side and I beamed angelically. "Sorry, you caught me making grass angels," I chirped merrily.

In order to be admitted to a magic school potential students only need to provide irrefutable proof that they are mages, yet, despite your very obvious abilities, you were rejected with a comment asking you to "please never practice magic again".

[shecriestotheclickingoftime]

Um ok guys I wrote something to post??? I’m scared bc this kinda sucks but I’ve been writing a lot of random stuff for Patrick and I finally feel ok enough about this fic to publish it i guess 😭😭 this is not really proofread or edited much, so yeah 😭😭

Patrick Zweig x Reader, 1.4k words (Art is also mentioned), and they’re all around college age.

Childhood best friends, mutual pining, fluff, first kiss/admission of feelings, and all of the things.

TW for drinking/alcohol use

Patrick had been one of your closest friends since kindergarten, and ever since you two had met, you were attached at the hip. Even after Patrick had gone off to Mark Rebelatto’s Tennis Academy, even though you didn’t see each other as much, he always made sure to text and surprise you whenever he was home. As you both grew up, you watched Patrick change- he went from the goofy kid with big ears to a tall, and honestly hot guy. And he was well aware of it. Everywhere you went, you saw how he acted- he was so sure of himself, so cocky, and he acted brash and loud. But you knew him better than that.

When it was just the two of you, Patrick was gentle and sweet. He had always been touchy, somehow always managing to go from across the couch to having his arm around you on your movie nights. He was just like that with his friends, totally.

Throughout your friendship, he was always there to protect you; he always kept you close during your parent’s parties, knowing that you didn’t like events and social gatherings the way he did. He always guided you everywhere and took over conversations when he could tell that you didn’t feel like talking. His hand on your waist, he would guide you through the crowds, always making sure you were close to him. He could see right through you, and somehow in these times he understood exactly what you needed. Ever so often, he would slip his hand into yours and give it a tight squeeze to comfort you. This was just your routine, and you knew that Patrick was the only reason why you still agreed to go to these events.

Patrick had always been there for you. He came home from boarding school just for the weekend to take you to your senior prom, he came over and helped you pack for college, and he never forgot to call. Your relationship with him was so perfect… But there was just one problem.

You were in love with your best friend. And you watched him go on dates, sleep with girls, and you knew that he just didn’t want you like that. Every time he would pull you close, hold your hand, or cuddle you on the couch, you just had to remember that this was just his personality. He could get any girl he wanted, and you two were just meant to be friends.

You were good at holding your feelings in, terrified of disturbing the perfect relationship you had with Patrick- you couldn’t risk losing it all over a crush.

—--

Tonight was just like any other night with Patrick and Art- you were all hanging out in Patrick’s living room, drinking random cocktails Pat had mixed up for you, and watching a movie. The three of you were apart most of the year- you in college on the east coast, Art at Stanford, and Patrick just traveling around playing pro tennis. So every summer, you made sure to hang out at least a couple times all together, usually just getting drunk and talking about everything and nothing.

The three of you were lounging in the living room watching some stupid horror movie that none of you really cared about. You and Patrick were on opposite sides of the couch, and Art was comfy on the armchair next to you guys. As the movie progressed, the three of you got drunker, and you started to feel more hazy- so when Patrick pulled you into his arms, holding you as you two watched the movie, you couldn’t help but nuzzle closer into him, melting into his touch. While you two cuddling was nothing new, this was different: it felt a little more sweet and intimate than normal.

You whispered to him, “Hey, I missed you while I was at college”, closing your eyes, tired from the drinking.

Patrick’s face turned red when you whispered that, and he looked away. It wasn’t fair of you to be sweet like that when he was trying so hard to not lean in and kiss you. You understood Patrick in a way that no one else did, and you were the only person he could be completely vulnerable with. He was different with you than with everyone else, and he loved to care for you. Since late in high school, he had been desperate to tell you that he wanted you, but he couldn’t lose you. The commitment was terrifying, and also, Patrick wasn’t even sure if you wanted him that way. So, he had carried that with him for years- but he still couldn’t help himself from needing you close, and he couldn’t stop himself when he cupped your face with his hand, and tilted your head up at him.

“I missed you too”, he whispered. It was already hard for him to not confess to you while he was sober, but now that he was tipsy, it felt almost impossible to keep his words from spilling out. You two locked eyes for a moment, and the way he looked at you felt almost unreal. He looked at you like you were some sort of angel, his eyes filled with an adoration and sweetness that was so unlike the Patrick Zweig you were familiar with.

After a moment, he looked away, his face turning slightly red. Feeling bold, you nuzzled your face back into the crook of his neck, just wanting to be closer. You knew that you would regret being this obvious in the morning- he was just drunk, he probably didn’t actually love you- but you couldn’t help yourself. He held you tighter in his arms as the movie played, and the night got later.

At this point, Art had fallen asleep on the armchair- and as soon as he opened his eyes, he smiled and announced that he was going to bed- this movie sucked anyways. He looked at you and Patrick curled into each other, and he didn’t even seem surprised- he knew how much Patrick liked you, even if Patrick tried to hide it. So, he went upstairs, leaving the two of you on the couch. You both were silent for a couple minutes, unsure if you should say anything. Patrick pretended to be into the movie, but all he could think about was you in his arms.

He whispered your name, looking into your eyes as you glanced up at him. You saw him glance down at your lips and then staring back up at you, and he looked more nervous than you had ever seen him. His hand cupped your face gently, as he whispered, “is this ok?”. You nodded, holding back a small smile as he leaned in and kissed you.

The kiss felt natural for the two of you- like it was something you had done a million times before. Patrick couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, barely believing that he was actually, finally kissing you. Patrick had been dreaming of this moment for years, even though he would never admit it.

He pulled away from your lips gently, pressing small, sweet kisses all over your jaw. You laugh softly as he moves his hands from your face and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

You closed your eyes, the lateness of the night sinking in. You felt so relaxed and content as Patrick continued to press soft kisses down your neck.

You both eventually laid down on the couch, Patrick’s arm slung across your waist as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck. Your drunkenness took over and the world spun around you, but Patrick’s strong arms around you made you feel held in place. You drifted off to sleep, trying to avoid thinking about what things would be like in the morning- because for now, you were happy.

Patrick’s hand rubbed lazy circles into your back as he held you close to him, and felt his stomach twisting with anxiety and happiness, his heart beating faster as he pulled you tighter. He heard your breathing slow down as you fell asleep against him, and he wished to himself for this moment to never end.

Patrick eventually fell asleep against you, and he held you tight for the rest of the night.

[cube-cumb3r]

Now here are the graphs everyone's actually been waiting for.

Results for: 7 deadly sins rankings, Sexiest Flower and most Edible Rock.

(Perhaps there will also be a bonus chart at the end..?)

Here are the (current) results.

ROCK EDIBILITY

Rock #1 (Vanadite) was the most edible, followed by Rock #6 (Beryl) which was also the Least controversial rock (least stdev), which I would interpret as responders could generally agree on the edibility of Beryl? I saw someone mention it looked like rock salt or himalayan salt, this might be why?

The least edible rock was Rock #4 (amazonite), followed by Rock #5 (Fluorellestadite-Hemimorphite), which was also the most CONTROVERSIAL ROCK! Its edibility score had the highest stdev, people could apparently not agree on how edible it is. I personally think it looks like ice-cream, with the little specks of vanilla bean in it, I was quite surprised people didn't wanna eat this thing.

And in the middle are Rock #2 (Agate) and Rock #3 (Kämmererit). I was expecting Kämmerit to do also better in all honesty, it looks like rock candy to me!

The differences in these rock-edibility scores are not enormous though overall.

(What I also wanted to do was do some sort of scatter plot comparing the average percieved rock "edibility", and then where said rocks fall on the mohs hardness scale to see if there's any kind of connection, but that's a project for another time.)

What I DID do is create an additional variable called "Average rock edibility" (terrible name) which is the average of the all the scores a responder gave to ALL rocks, to see if there's a certain demographic more keen on eating rocks overall.

The answer is Tumblr seems more keen to eat rocks. Folks from SurveySwap and SurveyCircle seems the least keen on eating rocks.

Now onto actually interesting findings, if you do a scatterplot comparing this avg. rock edibility score, to a responders age you get this beautiful scatterplot, which is perhaps not the most impressive scatterplot the world has ever seen, but R-Sq is 20.5%! (=20% of variation in rock-edibility is explained by age, which is not a lot of course, but it's interesting) On average, for each additional year in age, you will rate your rocks 0.07 points less in terms of "Edibility". (Clarification for those not well-versed in statistics, this means nothing)

I'm sure there's more to say about rocks, but now let's move on to,

Flower Sexual Appeal.

The SEXIEST flower was Flower #4 (Gloriosa/Fire lily), followed by Flower #6 (Catherine-wheel pincushion). I don't have any good commentary on this, I just think some introspection for us all is in order.

The most UNSEXY flower was Flower #5 (Dandelion), which also happened to be the least controversial flower, everyone rated this flower as "Unsexy". (Sorry dandelions). The second least sexy flower was Flower #3 (Rose). Perhaps people don't find "classic" flowers exciting?

In the middle was Flower #1 (Daffodil) and Flower #2 (Wisteria), the latter being the MOST controversial flower, which is interesting as it's ended up the middle! This means it's likely many responded either gave Wisterias either a very high or very low score, and they ended up cancelling each other out? Did not expect Wisterias to be polarizing, I must admit.

Now, similarly to the rock-edibility score, I also made a variable for flower-sexualappeal, and these two scores are unsurprisingly slightly correlated with each other (R-sq 27% I think? I don't remember), if you're keen on eating rocks, you probably also want to fuck flowers.

Interestingly though, age has much less of an effect on flower-sexualappeal, (this line is clearly just skewed by that outlier at the end,) the R-Sq of this regression line is only 5% (Which is even more nothing than the relationship between age and rock-edibility) But then also, this question is at a later point in the form, so maybe I'm just missing the demographic that submitted the form early here. But more unsurprisingly, these scores look similar to the rock-scores when divided up by where responders found the form. I'm sure there's even more to find that I haven't found yet.

Next up,

SEVEN DEADLY SINS RANKING.

Here it is in table form, in order of highest rank to lowest. But as intuitive as it is, it's very boring, so here is an exciting sideways bar chart!!

(In retrospect I realize I should've made the horizontal axis start at 2.5 for easier legibility, but oh well. It's also from yesterday, so the information in the next chart might differ slightly.)

The bottom ("totalsumma") is the same information as table above, but I've also chosen to include the avg. rankings among responders who describe themselves as "cisgender", "transgender" and "neither" respectively, which is interesting because they rank the sins differently!

Cisgender respondents rank "Lust" the highest, and Transgender respondents rank "Sloth" the highest instead! Other than that, both these groups rank similarly to the overall average.

However, people who describe themselves as Neither have very different rankings compared to the overall average.

This is the same information as in the chart above, but just people who answered "Neither", sorted from highest rank to lowest. (For this chart I had the sense to make this chart a bit more legible too.)

I find it super interesting how people who answered neither on average ranked "Lust" the lowest? I suspect maybe people who describe themselves as neither trans nor cis, are also more likely to be ace-spec? But I cannot confirm this bc I haven't found a good method of parsing through the responses in the gender and orientation questions.

BONUS CHART!!!!: IS THIS A SANDWICH?

Here is a summary of the amount of people who responded that, yes, this is a sandwich, ranked from most sandwich to least sandwich.

I was a bit surprised that hamburger was so high, I don't personally see hamburger as a sandwich. I was also surprised toast was so low! So, naturally I asked, maybe this is a regional thing? LET'S INVESTIGATE!

Now. I am aware this chart is barely comprehensible and is painful to look at. But I'll point out some interesting things.

First and foremost, there are not that many respondents from Asia and Oceania who made it this far into the form, so take the results from those regions with a grain of salt.

Secondly, I was definitely right that on average, a larger %age American responders seem to think that Hamburgers are a sandwich than European responders (though 80% of Europeans still think hamburgers are sandwiches, so maybe I'm the outlier...). Also, the difference in %age of American vs. European responders who consider toast a sandwich seems quite dramatic! It does seem to indicate that what you consider a sandwich might be regional, no?

THIRDLY. I have created a new variable that I've chosen to call "Sandwich radicalism", which is pretty much how many of the options you consider to be sandwiches (the less conservative you are with what you consider to be a sandwich, the higher your "Sandwich radicalism"). Here is the average "Sandwich radicalism", based on location.

There's too few responders from Asia and Oceania to say anything about them, but comparing Europeans and Americans, it does seem that Europeans are a bit more sandwich-radical, doesn't it? Well I did a 2 sample t-test and the difference was not statistically significant , , , so I have yet to find a use for this new special variable. :(

That's all I had to say about this for now, next up perhaps I'll look into the stats on rock-paper-scissors?

Does anyone want to do my new google form

[sampirism]

talkn bout my opinions on rook and varric and roleplay and feeling disconnected (roleplay in a game sense not the freaky sense. sorry) - SPOILERS FOR ENTIRE GAME, BEWARE. this post is WAY too long. sorry about that too.

it's very evident that bioware/EA wanted an action/adventure game first and an RPG second, but let me type at you.

i hate to say that i didn't feel particularly sad about varric's fate, due to the structure of the game. it is, in hindsight, completely obvious that he was not alive! i just hadn't been thinking about varric much at all the entire game because you have limited opportunity to talk to him in the infirmary or when he plops around barefoot when everyone decides to sit at a table and talk about how fucked we are. i genuinely forgot he was there otherwise.

he barely feels like a guy himself. because there's no personalized worldstate, any specific mentions to events or characters might be jarring to the player who may have made a different choice along the way.

no one talks about how sorry they are about varric because they CAN'T or the twist is completely revealed. even with another DA2 character in the game (who my hawke romanced. who is now dead in the fade. glad to see you're LIVING IT UP ISABELA!!! (I'm jk. a little.))

there's no response rook can say to condolences outside of "oh, thanks" without the game fully revealing its Twist, because "I'll tell him you said hi" and "he'll be up and walking in no time!" are only reasonable responses from a Mourn Watcher, and even then, should still cause your companions to be a little alarmed. the closest we get to this is the inquisitor making reference to lost friends, and rook visually registers it, but its swept under the rug and moved on from immediately.

(i know we're all mentally unwell in this lighthouse repressing our feelings but jesus christ)

despite spending two games with him and enjoying him as a character, I struggle with feeling much for his loss AS my rook, because i found there to be no meaningful connection between him and rook. i was only told i was supposed to have one.

the game wanted so badly get the ball rolling with an immediate threat, its at the expense of roleplay. you could argue that da2 and inq also started with Immediate Threats but you are also very limited in the choosing of your backstory in those games.

rook was deliberately designed to be more open-ended, with more similarity to origins, but still gave you a prequel where you felt what your life was before The World Began To End.

there's this conversation you can walk in on with lucanis and davrin, where they're talking about their worst jobs. there are three dialogue for rook I think and i can only remember two but they were "I don't want to talk about it" or "man I have the dreadwolf in my head". (I... honestly think the third option was very similar to the second one but I have a very bad memory. sorry)

i played a mourn watcher mage. i had to have done some messed up spirit stuff. some bone shenanigans. not able to mention my Down With Nobles rebellion at all. i halfway expected it to be revealed that my rook was just like a shitty pawn (haha) and actually all her memories are fake and not real. but obviously you meet people from your shared backstory and they do know OF you but they don't really know you

in mass effect 1, there were some unique missions related to both the backstory and psychological profile you picked for shepard. they were short, and nothing happens like that in 2+3 that i remember, but they are unique to your character and are something at least.

no one really asks you much more about yourself! mourn watcher rook is literally Found In The Crypts as an Infant, an incredible mystery that you have to fill in the blanks yourself, which could be something someone wants-- but i personally like my characters a little more predefined in a game such as dragon age. vague history worked for me in games like skyrim and fallout new vegas, even baldurs gate! but makes me feel wholly disconnected from the story and group here.

there was a fair amount of dialogue choices for mourn watcher, especially with Emmrich-- talking with emmrich was one of the few times my rook felt like A Person-- but there were other times that my companions seemed to think emmrich was the only necromancer/watcher on the team. (i even specialized in death caller!)

by containing all the dialogue with companions to ! markers and outings, it's weird to be unable to have any conversations without being able to provide personal insight, whereas some NPCs in inquisition actively asked you about your past.

its particularly noticeable because of lucanis, whom my rook romanced. the dude has a lot to say about nevarran culture and the necropolis and such, and we can have zero conversations on the matter lol.

maybe this is like, really a mourn watcher thing? maybe it feels better as a crow or a warden. but if you offer me the choice to be a freak crawling around in a tomb. i am going to be.

TLDR: i really feel that a prequel mission, a recruitment by varric then a timeskip, a personal quest tied to the consequences of your backstory, something, anything, to make rook feel like an actual part of the world, was a necessity and sincerely a missed opportunity. if you actually read this far, thanks!

[patolemus]

Wip Monday

Tagged by @gege-wondering-around @dontcallpanic and probably @novasillies at some point (yes I know I'm the literal worst please forgive me). Because I can never do anything like I'm supposed to, I'm not posting on Wednesday. This is a little thing I've been toying with per @superfluffycam-blog's request, nothing concrete yet but the idea is slowly coming together. With my track record, I'll either write the whole thing in one sitting sometime soon or it'll take ages (speaking of ages the Time Travel fic Is Coming I fucking promise!! It's been a very busy month but I'm done with my classes in like two weeks and then I just have to get through finals. I'll be back to post deranged shit about sterek after that)

The house is quiet. It’s always quiet these days, his dad away at the station for what feels like one long infinite shift, and Stiles running around town with a bunch of supernaturally inclined creatures at odd hours. On the nights he’s not running from certain death, Stiles keeps to his bedroom, headphones on and blaring music loud enough his eardrums hurt because at least that way he can pretend that’s the reason he doesn’t hear any noise around the house.

It wasn’t always like this. Stiles remembers a time when the house was full of noise, all the time. The low tunes playing on the radio in the kitchen, the occasional clang of pans against wooden spoons, the buzz of the television broadcasting the latest baseball game. Small giggles and loud shrieks of laughter, soft humming in the living room as his parents slow danced in the evening.

No one hums or slow dances anymore.

Stiles’ footsteps sound way too loud in the otherwise silent house. He drops his backpack by the stairs to pick up on his way to his room later, and beelines for the kitchen. There is a lone plate sitting on the drying rack, the only sign that his dad has come home sometime during the day while he was away at school. Stiles is not naive enough to believe that to be a coincidence. He and his dad haven’t crossed paths since… ah, Stiles doesn’t even know anymore. Between the werewolves and the hunters and the kanimas and the fucking crazy that has become his life, the days seem to be going by way too fast to keep count of them. These days, Stiles only has space in his head for the dates of the full moons.

He gets started on dinner before working on his homework. Stiles makes food for two, even though he knows his dad probably won’t come home to eat it in favor of getting something from the diner—a salad, most likely, because he has all of his dad’s usual haunts bribed and monitored, as well as all of his deputies, to make sure they don’t sell his dad anything that might make his health go sideways. Stiles knows most of them merely indulge him because of their own affection towards him, but Stiles isn’t above using that to make his dad stays as healthy as possible.

On the off chance the Sheriff does come home tonight, though—a slim, slim chance, Stiles wants there to be food for him to eat. He doesn't want to give his dad another reason to be disappointed, another reason to be mistrustful. Stiles still feels cold all over when he remembers the resignation on his dad's eyes, how he'd said he didn't know who Stiles was anymore.

It’s... it's been a tough year.

And I'm afraid that's all I've got for you. I've always loved the stories that explore Stiles and the Sheriff's complex relationship, how Claudia's death altered their dynamic to the point where it was hard to figure out who was the parent and who was the child, how Stiles became this autonomous, independent character we see in canon at the age of 10 years old. This is, in theory, meant to be a character study centered on that topic. Will I succeed? Who knows!! Not me. Gently tagging @dontcallpanic @salty-fryingpan @endwersed @novasillies @hedwig221b and @gege-wondering-around

[bonebabbles]

I keep starting and abandoning posts that go into my drafts, as I try to stay tasteful about how fucking revolted this part makes me. Like, I'm legitimately unsure if the very relevant trauma I have is making me see things that aren't here

But first we see that Star Flower is trying to ingratiate herself to the group, just after she reappears from chapter 5. Chapter 5 is about how Clear Sky is still abusive towards his son, and she comes in after stroking his ego, stressing how alone she is, and appealing to how she'll be loyal unlike his child. (She glances over at Thunder, directly implying this.)

Now in Chapter 9, she's babysitting and trying to care for Milkweed's kits (in spite of discomfort from Milkweed), taking a wet sleeping space away from the others, and pulling more than her own weight "without complaint." Putting herself through harsh sitations to prove her worth.

All while trying to appear extra attractive to Thunder, and later Clear Sky. Basically every man in power who can "protect her"

Like, am I going fucking crazy? With how we later find out that Star Flower was "promised as a mate" to One Eye's subordinate Slash, is... is that hypersexualization? One of the extremely stigmatized symptoms of sexual abuse?

She goes to find Clear Sky alone to throw herself at his paws, and he's very quickly attracted to how she promises to perfectly obey him, have no needs of her own, and finally be the perfect servant that he desires

"I don't deserve your trust because I am dirt. I understand you because I also regret something. I'd die for you. I'll never betray you unlike those who have."

This isn't manipulation. She means this. The story is playing their romance sincerely. She's comparing "betraying" Thunder by telling her own father about an assassination ambush to Clear Sky's history of child abuse, physical assault, and murder

She believes she's on the same level as this; a monster who murdered a childhood friend in a fit of entitled rage. She was a victim of One Eye who really believes that the way her father used her means she "understands" this monster, deserves this treatment.

And Clear Sky LIKES that.

He likes that she will have COMPLETE FAITH in him. That she will follow him WITHOUT QUESTION. That she will OBEY his orders. That's fucking verbatim, that's THE TEXT!!!

WHILE HE'S STILL CRYING ABOUT "ive tried to atone every day" FOLLOWING THE LAST TWO BOOKS WHERE THE ONLY SHITTY THING HE DOESN'T DO IS MURDER INNOCENT WOMEN

Am I insane?? Am I wrong??? Am I missing something here???? Why the fuck is the fandom takeaway "haha sexy girl steals his dad." Did I read the same book

[lucykuoart]

My opinion may be rude, but I will try to explain, because after reading it, I realized something. Marcoh...I either see absolute yaoi about him, or nothing. Guys, I'm not against ships, although I'm probably considered a radical and a villain, which is just wow Marcoh/Olivia. But really, most of the content that I see is the creation of some kind of stereotypical image in Marcoh, ignoring his many qualities. The only ones who expressed their interests in a way that is interesting, of course, are the authors of Marcoh/Pav, to my surprise, and one of the authors of Daan/Marcoh fanfiction, whose works sometimes draw art. I know how to consume and enjoy such content, this has happened before, my friends know lol

Well, I was told that Marcoh and Olivia are exclusively like brother and sister. Have those who speak done a lot of such content? Now there are a little more drawings with, for example, the fact that he is trying to carry her, but still not enough. And they are closer than they seem, at least think about what caused them to be here - sisters. Olivia never says this, but Marcoh is exclusively to her, yes, but their relationship may just be humanly interesting. And other characters, especially female ones, fendom doesn't seem to want to see him with them

And they also told me that he's 31, he doesn't have anyone, that's why!!!

Or maybe let's remember his story and the fact that he has been raising his sister since the age of 10, he was beaten for attempts at theft and light robbery, he trained, fought at night for her. I want to believe that he had love, but as you can see, it's not like the story of Daan. Yes, Marcoh says very strange things, but in general, he is quite silent and opens up gradually, and not to everyone. He didn't have much time and opportunity to communicate, he didn't even get a school education, which is more than obvious complex

In general, Marcoh would just like to live in a forest house with someone, grow old, train children...let it be with anyone and they will see in him first of all an interesting character

is the fear and hunger fandom ready to talk about the fact that if a character is not easily sexualized/"babygirl"ified they are blatantly ignored by fans, leading to a lot of the interesting side characters to either get pushed aside or simplified into jokes, or do you guys still need to post pocketcat looking cunty a million more times first

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

I am once again going down the rabbit hole of trying to figure out the ages of the Gallifrey characters

[ableedingpromise]

God I'm so fucking annoyed how come she gets to treat me however she likes and then gets to say she didn't mean it?????

[cuteniarose]

Sometimes I wish I had more people interested in my creations, but then I get hit by thoughts like “Imagine the outrage you’d be faced with if your Avatar Suiren AU was more popular. This is the fandom that still cannot ‘forgive’ Korra for SOMETHING THAT WAS DONE TO HER, calling her the worst Avatar for losing the connection to her past lives (which came about because she HAD RAAVA LITERALLY RIPPED OUR OF HER) and acting like that is somehow a worse offence than, say, inaction leading to genocide. The hate you’d get for intentionally making Suiren the last Avatar would be IMMEASURABLE” and go “… actually, I’m glad that for the most part it’s just @katkastrofa and I–”

(Though then again… would it even be an AU by yours truly if it didn’t contain at least one cancellable offence? 😁)

[mushed-kid]

gonna sound dumb for a minute.

actually,,,, i dont think i want to do biology💀😭

[quibbs126]

So guys what do I call him?

He’s one of my old Ralia characters, and I was going to say that I felt like changing his name because it was probably stupid, but as it turns out, I don’t actually have it anywhere, so I don’t know what his name was in the first place

I do know that in the original version, he was basically supposed to be part of this tribe on a mysterious island that protected this big important tree. Also that he originally was based on Knuckles and was originally a honey badger

I also know that now, design wise, his people have the distinct appearance of having black fur with white stripes (same as Striker, since I made him one of them)

Also, that their hair is tied to whatever element they use. Like for example, Striker’s got wind powers now, so he’s got hair sort of like a cloud. The guy above had water powers, so he’s got blue, flowy hair

His design is subject to change though, since I made this original design for him like a year ago, I just never got around to finishing it until now when I wanted to ask what to name him. He and Striker might switch markings, and/or I just add to his current markings

My brain’s saying just to call him River or something, but I’m not sure, hence why I’m asking here

I’d also ask for a new name for Striker, but my current priority right now is this guy, so just him is fine for now

[anaalnathrakhs]

ghezikjfjekzjkezn i cannot fucking WAIT to move out

[thehardkandy]

Travelling back home tomorrow hoping for a smooth groove

[bitchfitch]

For all the teething I've been doing on Pavo and Esti i haven't been able to like, actually write any thing for them recently mostly because I've been Busy.

But also because I'm snapping between like 3 ideas for them at terminal velocity and haven't been able to actually get anything written for them and it's like having pumas bouncing around my skull at mach fuck as though theyre house cats at 2 am when you're trying to sleep,

[unproduciblesmackdown]

though i eventually got to read some, in earlier years goosebumps books would be the kind of series where i'd just ponder the cover art, and i always liked the drama of the monster blood illustration (the lighting/colors....sure nothing's happening in it but i felt it evoked the drama of "what if you're downstairs and something's upstairs" much like "what if you're upstairs and something's downstairs") like well too bad i guess i never got around to reading i at the time. but as of a recap yesterday i'm surprised to now be at least 90% sure i read part if not all of it, and thinking i hadn't may be due to how kind of nothing happens in it