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necromancer-at-abattoir · 20 days ago

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Hi, it’s “Rick really shot himself in the foot when he tried to differentiate Greek and Roman mythology and failed” anon again, and I just learned that apparently Rick is not only misrepresenting the gods and Greek culture, but actual Ancient Greek philosophers, and that really pisses me off as someone with a degree in philosophy.

I haven’t been a part of this fandom in a long time. I never finished HoO (I dropped it before the series was even finished), but I saw something upsetting the other day. I’ve seen a few posts talking about this one passage from HoO (Or, at least, I think it was from HoO. If I read that part, I don’t remember because It was a long time ago.) talking about “a story by Plato about how male and female were created because they used to be the same being that was split in half, and now they’re two halves of a whole looking for their soulmate or whatever” and this was supposed to create angst or something because then Nico didn’t know how he was supposed to fit into that equation.

Again, I don’t exactly know the context (I tried Googling it, but I couldn’t find anything), but I do know that it’s referencing The Symposium. The Symposium just so happens to be one of my favorite pieces of philosophical writing, and once had to write over 20 pages on this bad boy for an academic paper, so believe me when I tell you - that story is a load of BS, and I will not tolerate Plato slander.

First of all, that wasn’t even Plato that said that. It was Aristophanes. Yes, The Symposium was written by Plato, but he was essentially just documenting stuff that was said at a dinner where a bunch of dudes got together and decided to philosophize about what love is (there are 6 speakers in total, that all lead up to Socrates, and Aristophanes is just one of them). People debate about whether all the people and situations Plato wrote about were even real, or if they’re just a device to bounce ideas off of each other, and there’s even this whole theory that Socrates wasn’t a real person - but I’m not going to get into all of that. What’s important is that we DO know that Aristophanes was a real person, and it’s important to note that Aristophanes was NOT a philosopher. He was a playwright and basically the Ancient Greek equivalent of a comedian. I have seen a lot of people act like it was some profound theory of how humans came to be, but it was never meant to be taken seriously.

Now, I have seen that story be taken out of context many times, and it always annoys me, but this might be the most egregious one yet. The Symposium is not heteronormative in the slightest. In fact, it is VERY queer, which is what drew me to it in the first place.

The ACTUAL story that this is trying to reference is when Aristophanes tells a story where originally humans had 2 heads, 4 arms, and 4 legs, and there were 3 genders - male, female, and androgynous (which represented the sun, earth, and moon, respectively). The gods were intimidated by the humans, so they split them in half. The ones that were originally male became men who were attracted to men, the ones that were female became women attracted to women, and the ones that were androgynous became men and women attracted to the opposite sex. That is the very short version, but needless to say, very inclusive of homosexuality.

I see how what Rick was trying to do could’ve worked for asexuality or aromanticism, however, this is only just one small part of The Symposium, and there is actually a lot of stuff in The Symposium that I would argue are very ace and aro coded, but I’m not going to get into all of that, though, because this would be very long and that’s beside the point.

(Just one thing, though, because I can't resist. It’s not relevant to this, but it’s cool, and it relates to my previous ask. At one point, one of the speakers, Pausanias, tries to define love as a complex being and says that Aphrodite is the personification of love. He acknowledges that there are two different versions of Aphrodite that the Ancient Greeks believed in, from different parts of Greece (again, this is pre-Roman), and instead of trying to determine which is the “true” Aphrodite, he embraces both of them and says they are the personifications of two different kinds of love, which eventually results in him basically figuring out the split attraction model 2000+ years before it was called that, and I love it so much.) Anyway, everyone should read The Symposium, it’s public domain.

All that to say, this means one of two things. Either Rick knew this story and intentionally changed it to be heteronormative to create angst, or he read some other version of the story, that was not a primary resource, where someone else had already changed to be heteronormative - and that really freaking bothers me, because it could not be farther from the truth.

As a queer person who found a lot of comfort in The Symposium, I find it disgusting that it was twisted for the sake of making a queer character feel bad about themself for extra angst (and don’t even get me started on how Nico’s character was handled, that is a whole other thing I can go off about, but I won’t because this is about Plato). Shame on you, Richard.

Again, I haven’t touched HoO since I was in high school and it was still being released, and I honestly don’t remember reading that part. So, if I am taking this out of context and later in the book they say “Wait, but that’s not actually how the story goes!” then I will be pleasantly surprised for once, and you can disregard all of this.

You are wonderful, anon, and I love you and this message that you've sent so much. I will definitely check out Plato's Symposium sometime soon.

Don't worry-you're not taking this out of context. What you're talking about is, unfortunately, written in either HOH or BOO-I clearly remember that.

Rick Riordan does tend to misrepresent cultures in his stories-especially Greek culture, so I wouldn't be surprised if this was true. His views on Hellenistic Paganism and Greek Gods when he was writing PJO and HOO were unfortunately very derogatory and it's clearly reflected in his writing.

The fact that he changed a story to fit his version does not surprise me at all, though it's painful to learn that he has committed yet another infraction regarding Greek Mythology.

It's terribly discouraging to me when I see how many people think that what Rick Riordan writes is true and urge them to read up on real sources regarding Greek Mythology. This twisted version of Plato's Symposium is only one of many examples in Percy Jackson.

Knowing Rick Riordan, he either read the full version and twisted it to form his own terrible version, which he has done before (Hephaestus' attempted rape of Athena) and is quite good at or he read a version that wasn't the primary resource and just took it to be the real thing (like he did when researching for Piper Mclean).

Nico's moment there was pretty poignant, very relatable for many LGBTQ readers wondering how they would fit in to heteronormative society...........

But unfortunately, a lot of nice moments in PJO come at the cost of incorrectly interpreting Ancient Greek Gods and culture. It's pretty sad, honestly. Rick really likes to slander Greece in his works. First with the flame of the West, then with slandering all the gods and all those mythological inaccuracies, now with this twisted Symposium version of his.

Rick Riordan doesn't even do his research properly, so of course he said that Plato said it and not that Plato wrote down what Aristophanes said out loud. I wonder if it would actually kill him to do some more research. Is he really that bad at it?

Anyway, I will read the Symposium to gain more insight onto how Rick could have handled it better. I really like aro-ace coded stuff, too, so I'll love this one.

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helloheyhihowdyheya · 2 years ago

Text

Rose Thorn Blues | pt. 2

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Part One Masterlist

Summary: Begrudgingly, you let Peter Parker help you with the story. Even if it leads you two going undercover as a couple...

Word count: ~4k

Warnings: Enemies to lovers!! Fake dating!! Banter. More Criminal activity. Swearing. A lil bit of tension.

A/n: Well, I thought I'd share this smaller part before I head on vacation. Sorry it's not longer, but I hope this holds over until I'm back home! Thank you for reading, and let me know your thoughts <3

“Should I be regretting this?” you asked, immediately shaking your head as Parker wheeled over to your side.

“Too late.” He grabbed your notebook from your hands, kicking his feet up on your desk as he began to read. His lips moved silently along with the words, each curved syllable whispering past his mouth. You looked away when his eyes flicked to yours, those lips tilting into a grin even as he continued reading.

His fingers flipped the worn page of your notes, leaving you to pick at the hem of your shirt while waiting for him to finish.

You pulled your legs closer to you, trying to focus on the material of your pants rather than the urge to draw yourself into your body. But your nerves flared at the edges of your senses, telling you made the wrong choice. And only once you were about to pretend to need coffee just to step away, Parker blew out a tight sigh.

He muttered out, “Christ…”

Swallowing down the jolt in your muscles at his words, you turned to him, eyebrows raised. “Is that good or bad?”

His hand scratched along his jaw, his gaze following the words before slowly rising to meet yours. “Uh, your research is… good. Really good. But this,” he said, gesturing to the notebook, “is pretty bad.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, that quiet doubt inside your mind growing ever so louder. Barely blinking, you stared off wondering where this could go. Where you could end up if you went through with it. Your attention only snapped back when Parker cleared his throat.

He watched you, your expressions, with no humor on his face as he whispered, “So, you really went to this warehouse… by yourself in the middle of the night?” His finger pointed at your notes that indeed held your observations from last night. Still, that didn’t stop you from trying to lie and come up with anything that wouldn’t incriminate you.

When you didn’t answer, instead glancing at your fingers intertwining, he scoffed. “You know you could’ve really gotten hurt going there alone. Or worse. I don’t think these guys play around.”

“I wasn’t alone. I talked with Spider-Man,” you said, as if that could convince Parker that your plan hadn’t been a bad idea. But he raised an eyebrow at you, a half-smile on his face.

“Yeah? Now you’re buddy-buddy with him too?” A ghost of a laugh escaped him, but his eyes hardened, not leaving you. “I’m serious, sunshine. Spidey’s not gonna be there to always save you. We gotta do this carefully.”

Choosing to ignore the unyielding tone his words were wrapped in, you grabbed your notebook back from him, your jaw set. “I know that, Parker. And I’m not exactly in harm’s way now that I don’t have any other leads. All he’s got is some BS fundraiser I can’t get into,” you said, sitting back in your chair. Silently, as you traced a finger down the writing you’d gone over dozens of times already, you grumbled under your breath about the rude receptionist you’d talked to about it.

“A fundraiser?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The collar of his long-sleeve shirt swooped down an inch, drawing your eyes to the shadow of his chest before nodding. He then asked, “What could we find out from that anyway? Not like Beaumont is gonna be any more truthful with those rich people than he is with the general public.”

He brought the end of a pen to his mouth, beginning to chew on it before you could realize he took it from your desk. You just pressed your lips together, letting it go as he thought out loud some more — now beginning to spin in his desk chair.

“He’s hiding plenty of secrets as is, I’m sure there’s gotta be some that we could uncover by getting close, right? Maybe we could-”

“Parker! Where are those pictures you promised me!”

Jameson’s voice boomed through the office, sending the both of you jumping in your seats. Parker cleared his throat and called back, “Emailing them to you now, sir.”

Beneath the sound of Parker’s squeaky desk chair rolling back to his side, you heard Jameson swear under his breath. You didn’t dare peek over the half-wall and risk getting yelled at too. Instead, as frantic typing came from Parker’s keyboard, you wrote on a post-it note, “Able to stay late. We can talk about this piece. In peace. Haha…”

You folded it in half twice before tossing it over onto his side and returning to research — even as it felt useless to do so. A small twinge of hope trickled up your spine, so subtle you barely noticed it before it reached the base of your head. A hope that Parker said yes.

As another site turned up blank, you told yourself asking him was just to move this story along, even if it meant spending the evening with the intern you always seemed to stand in the shadow of. But this story could bring you over the top and show Jameson you deserved that job.

A few minutes later, a flash of paper flew from Parker’s side and landed right on your eye.

“Shit…” you groaned out, lightly rubbing your eye and blinking it repeatedly — all while you heard suppressed laughter from the other desk. Quietly, you muttered, “Dick,” and opened up the note. The only thing added to it was a poorly drawn thumbs-up.

With that settled, along with the weird relief at his answer that you shoved lower and lower, you worked on some of your assigned stories. One blurred into the next, all of them superficial enough to turn your brain fuzzy over the course of the work day. You wondered what Alice was working on and if they ever made her feel like this.

By the time people began packing up for the day, long after your mediocre lunch from the closest food shop, your head nearly felt numb. At least this story could be the break you needed from all this — all the unimportant parts of reporting, like who broke up with who, and how Spider-Man is somehow the reason for it. Again.

You rubbed a tired hand down your face, letting the warm darkness of it swallow you for a moment. Your head shot up finally once a granola bar clattered across your desk.

Parker’s head then appeared from around the half-wall, the wave of his dark hair looking ran through. “I stole it earlier today, but I think you need it more than I do, sunshine,” he said, pointing to the bar with a tilt of his head.

Your stomach growled as you grabbed it, ripping it open. “That’s such a stupid nickname,” you muttered before taking a bite, looking up at him with a half-assed glare.

“It’s more creative than you calling me ‘Parker.’ That’s just my last name.” He laughed, his eyes lighting up.

Quirking your head, you blinked slowly at him. “If I’m sunshine, then you’re moonshine. Makes sense too, cause I need to be drunk to even tolerate you, Parker,” you grumbled, finishing off the granola bar.

And before he could open that stupid mouth of his, you threw away the wrapper and said, “I think Jameson’s gone if we want to start on the story. We-”

“Now?” Parker’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at you, his hand coming up to run down his neck. “Immediately vetoing. C’mon.”

Before you could ask any questions, he stood up and walked toward the doors, shouting over his shoulder, “Keep up!”

As much as your mind resisted listening to him, your eyes and legs definitely needed the break. So you followed after him, staring at his back as you made your way down the building’s steps.

Out on the sidewalk, the sun sat lower in the sky at this hour. Clouds scattered throughout kept the air from getting too hot, the feeling bringing a content smile to your face.

Blinking at him, you saw the way the sunlight showered down on Parker. The effortlessness of his hands sitting in his pockets and his hair laying perfectly messy — even his goddamn freckles glowing in the light — set a sparking anger in your chest. It only twisted, turned more sour, when he opened his mouth.

“You know… it’s not polite to stare at someone. Even if they are ruggishly handsome.”

A laughing scoff escaped your mouth, your eyes instead drifting across the crowd of people passing along the sidewalk. “I was just trying to figure out how your head fit such a little brain inside it. Does it just roll around like an acorn in there? Maybe a pea?”

Feeling the glare from his side-eye, you caught his growing half-smile. “Yeah? Could a pea-sized brain be smart enough to find us an actual dinner?”

“I mean… probably. But,” you said, tilting your head at him, “that’s not the worst plan you’ve had.” For emphasis, your stomach growled while you two walked down the street. And through grabbing carryout to eat back at the office, you made it a point to not stare at Parker — or do anything to give him a bigger ego than he already had.

His often irritating words certainly made it easy enough, like now as he spoke in between bites of his food from the takeout box. “So, I’m thinking–”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

You let out a laugh as he flipped you off, the shaking in your shoulders helping lift a weight from them. At least it was easy to laugh with him — or at him.

With a pointed stare, he continued. “I’m thinking that we have to find the connection between Beaumont and spidey… man. Spider-Man. With that warehouse you nearly burgled.”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him as he leaned against your desk. With your feet propped up next to where he sat, you ate your food from your desk chair. The office lay bare beside you two, your ID cards giving you access after hours. Unsurprisingly, the brainstorming hadn’t been terribly productive yet.

“I did not burgle anything… yet. But I haven’t seen anything between those two before. Maybe Beaumont’s just a big fan. He’s taking all our money just to grow his collection of supervillain memorabilia.”

Parker let out a quiet laugh. “Sounds like something Jameson would do.”

You internally shivered at the idea of finding your boss’s secret stash of Spider-Man collectibles.

Silence slipped over the two of you, just the noises of eating and the building’s air conditioning as you both thought through the details. Eventually, he said, “So this Ellis Beaumont guy has to have some sort of conflict with Spider-Man, meaning we could research what crimes of Beaumont’s that Spider-Man has stopped.”

An unsure look overtook your face. “That’s way too many to look through — and it’s not like that information is recorded anywhere. This politician keeps things tightly under wraps…” you sighed, letting out a tired laugh that didn’t feel all that funny. “It feels like I’m right back where I started.”

“Could that fundraiser of his give us answers?” Parker asked, his eyes glancing at yours.

You hesitantly nodded as you swallowed your next bite. “Probably, since it’s at his house apparently. But without an invitation, we’re kind of shit out of luck.”

“So we get an invitation and do some snooping during the event. Easy enough.”

Parker had put his food down, and you did not like the growing smirk on his face. “Before you say anything,” he told you, “I know a guy. It’ll be fine — we’ll just dress the part and do some investigative journalism.”

“Oh, so it’s bad to check out a warehouse, but we’ll just crash the fundraiser of a member of the government body and suspected criminal? You’re insane.” A scoff escaped your mouth when he nodded.

As you dropped your feet from the desk, you wanted to regret letting Parker in on this story or at least question who this guy was that could get you two into this fundraiser, but you had no better plan — or the guts to pull this off without him.

“This has got to be pretty illegal…” you whispered.

Parker gave you a smile that both calmed you and let butterflies loose in your stomach. “Absolutely. But Beaumont committed the crimes first, so we’re just evening it out.” He crossed his arms, the fabric of his long sleeve wrapped tight around them. With an expectant look, he raised his eyebrows at you. “So, are you in?”

A minute passed as you thought, considering any other plans that wouldn’t end with the both of you in jail. But you came up with nothing.

This better be one hell of a story. “Okay, fine. Let’s do this.”

“Great!” he said, clapping his hands together. “One more thing, though. We’re going to have to go as a couple. I’m thinking our last name could be–”

“Excuse me?” You cut him off, your eyes widening. Despite your mouth opening, nothing came out. You just dropped your gaze to the wall behind him as you let out a long breath.

“How else are we going to be convincing? All the other people joining are families or couples, right?”

He explained it so matter-of-factly. You understood, really. But pretending to be married to him while sneaking through a mansion? All for a ridiculous unpaid summer internship?

“Parker, have you come up with a torture plan?” You put your face in your hands, quietly groaning. You could be cordial with him and cautiously appreciate his (persistent) help on the story, but the idea of acting as a couple in love with him brought an uneasiness to your body.

Would Alice approve? It felt again like you weren’t following your heart, which wanted to hide deep down behind your ribs.

Parker looked at you, his mouth pressed tight. “Hey, not exactly like getting down on a knee to you was my original plan here,” he muttered.

Still, you looked back at him, ignoring the intensity of his stare. “So what will our last name be?”

Bennet, it turned out, would be the last name on your IDs and invitations for the banquet in two days. Sam and Rose Bennet.

During the days leading up, the two of you worked on regular assignments under the eye (and screaming) of Jameson.

But if someone looked closely, they’d see your leg constantly shaking beneath your desk and Parker’s nails being bitten down to the bed. They might be able to hear the whispered comments between the two of you — most about what your story would be. They would even see the things neither of you could make out, like the unasked questions on the tips of your tongues or the pull that seemed to exist between you and Parker.

The story you decided on was high school sweethearts — private school, of course. Something arranged by your equally rich and philanthropic parents, whose money you’d be happy to donate to Stronger Together during the fundraiser.

In reality, you both scrounged up enough money to rent nice enough clothes for the event and hoped that you wouldn’t have to pay for any extra damage. Besides the money concern, the risk of something happening to the clothes (and you, more importantly) weighed over your mind. Parker didn’t seem to have any worries, or voice them to you at least, about this whole plan going sideways.

So, you planned for it by yourself. Which exits would be best, which people you should probably stay away from. And you still didn’t ask how Parker exactly got you two into this, not that you were sure you wanted to know.

It didn’t even cross your mind the night of, not as you stood in your apartment, slipping on a floor-length gown that seemed to lay just right. Your fingers ran along your body, fixing things here and there until you were sure no rich politician would look twice at you and suspect something. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you weren’t sure you recognized yourself — or the idea you had of yourself. Maybe that was a good thing.

Your frayed nerves turned electric as your phone went off, a text from Parker letting you know he was here. For a minute, you hesitated. The constant thrumming in your chest clouded your thoughts, telling you something that you couldn’t quite make out.

As a second, more impatient, text came through, you gave one last glance at yourself and walked out into the hallway.

Each step to the front door in shoes that squeezed your feet much too tightly felt like a jolt to your heart. A breeze pushed past you as you walked out to his car — one that he’d have to park far away so the valet couldn’t see his shitty 2004 Honda Civic.

Parker stood leaning against the side of the vehicle, one hand scratching at his jaw and the other shoved far into his rented tux’s pockets. He stared down at his shoes, his vacant look telling you he also had a thousand thoughts running through his mind.

But as his gaze drifted up, connecting with yours, that worried crease between his eyebrows smoothed out, his hand dropping from his jaw down to his lap. Your steps slowed, your fingers clutching tight onto a purse you borrowed from a friend.

Those honeyed eyes turned bright as a ghosting smile spread across his face. You took in the image of him staring at you in that tuxedo — one that you could tell he wasn’t used to if you looked too hard. Not that you were doing that, of course. Still, the expensive material sat nicely along his tanned skin from the summer sun.

Though, you couldn’t figure out what felt off about him until you came closer, the buzzing in your ears growing much too loud as you neared. Reaching a hand up, your eyebrows furrowed, you went to fix his hair. The caramel strands sat straight and slicked back. It didn’t look like he’d run his fingers through it a hundred times.

But as you felt his breath brush along your skin, saw the stillness of his body, you paused. Too close. Too much, even for a fake couple.

You dropped your hand by your side, begging your body to calm down. You avoided his eyes as you took a step back. “Sorry,” you whispered, maybe for the first time to him, “Your hair just looks so…”

“Stuffy? Obnoxious? Greasy?”

“Pretentious is what I was going to say.”

His tight laugh brought some sort of relief to your tense muscles, even as he pushed off his car and muttered, “Glad we both look the part then.”

You raised an eyebrow, staring at him while fighting a smile. “You know, Parker — or Bennet, I should say — a real gentleman would’ve opened my door for me.”

Right before he plopped down in his car, he said, “You’re lucky I’m even picking you up, Mrs. Bennet.”

Quietly, you let out a huff and got into the passenger seat. Your hands brushed along your dress, straightening it out.

As you picked off a stray piece of lint, you said, “I’m not sure this is the right way to start as a couple.” You tried to make your words sound easy, but it didn’t even sound convincing to you.

Parker began driving, keeping his eyes on the road as he drummed a finger along the steering wheel. “You’re right — but don’t let that get to your head, sunshine. Okay, when did we first meet?”

“We first met fifteen years ago, but we didn’t start dating until ten years ago when our parents put us together. Toward the end of high school…”

“Where we went to different colleges but made the long-distance thing work. Somehow,” he said, waving a hand as if it didn’t matter or no one would ask how.

“And now, using the money we’ve saved up through our parents’ endowment funds and-”

“Wait, what does that even mean?” you asked, realizing he came up with this without telling you until now.

“It uh… it’s something to do with donations. I Googled it — it’s fine. Anyway, we’re using that and their savings to give back like they have always wanted. Great, fool-proof.”

Pursing your lips, you nodded for a second before shaking your head. “Parker, that makes no goddamn sense. This is a terrible idea.”

“Well, we’re going to be there soon, so too late now.”

“It’s actually not too late,” you told him, your throat feeling tight. “Let’s just turn around, okay?”

“Hey,” he said as the car came to a stoplight. He turned to look at you, the shine of the light illuminating half of his face.

His voice came out soft. “You nearly burgled a criminal’s warehouse, and you lied to a government official’s secretary, or something. This will be a piece of cake, alright?” Ever so quietly, a warmth bloomed in your chest, melting the cold fear that’d been wrapping around you. You gave him a short nod, making him give a tight-lipped smile and keep driving. “Great! Now, suck it up, sunshine, and come up with a better backstory. I can’t do all of the thinking in this marriage.”

A laugh bubbled up from your mouth. You rolled your eyes, even though your fidgeting had calmed down.

With a long breath out, you said, “What about if my grandmother left me money in her will, and I’m honoring her memory by giving it back to the city she loved?”

“Not bad… and sorry for your imaginary loss. I think it’ll keep people from prying too much further.”

“I hope so,” you muttered, hoping this half-baked plan would work.

Eventually, Parker slowly rolled the car to a stop. He parked on a smaller residential road a few blocks away, but you could still see the lights shining into the sky from Beaumont’s place. His castle to overlook all the peasants of the city.

Your shoes clicked across the pavement, the two of you nearing the mansion. With each step, you tried harder to ignore your heart hammering louder.

You breathed out a shaky breath when Parker held out his arm next to you. Hesitantly, you took it, wrapping your arm around his. Normally, you might’ve ignored the hardness of his body or the warmth seeping into your skin, but the solid, unyielding feeling of him brought some sort of grounding.

Leaning his mouth toward your ear, Parker said, “Which one do you think is going to pop first? The vein bulging from Jameson’s forehead or the huge one in his neck?”

The laughs you let out were sharp and involuntary, a smile breaking out on your face. Looking at him, at the grin he sent your way, you said, “Definitely the one on his forehead. And you’re going to be the one to make him mad enough to pop it.”

“I’ll be sure to wear those plastic ponchos the next time I’m late.”

“So… Monday? We can pick one up after the fundraiser for you.”

The giggles underlacing your words slowly died down as you turned the street corner, your eyes catching all the other couples approaching the towering house. Valets stood at the front, taking car keys from guests before they came to the doors — guards standing on either side.

“You’ve got the invitations?” you whispered to Parker, your hold on his arm growing tighter.

He quietly scoffed. “Of course I have them. Who do you think I-” His words stopped, his hands patting down his suit jacket for the invitation. Right as you felt your stomach threaten to curl in on itself, he flashed you a grin. “Just kidding, they’re right here,” he told you, grabbing them from his pocket.

With a forced smile plastered to your face in front of all these guests, you gritted out, “I’m going to murder you.”

“You are too funny, dear,” Parker said, or more likely, Sam Bennet said as the two of you walked up to the doorman holding his hand out for the invitations.

The way Parker’s mouth curled around the affectionate name felt foreign at first, but the way the doorman looked at the two of you — as if you really were a happy couple — made it feel right.

And that was it, that was all it took for a softness to flow over you and let yourself become Rose Bennet. For tonight.

@hollandweather @dil3mma @reidslovely

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #tasm!peter #tasm andrew garfield #tasm peter parker #tasm spiderman #the amazing spider man #spider man x reader #spider-man x reader

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aboutzatanna · 1 year ago

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Hey, remember that JLU episode titled ‘The Once And Future Thing: Weird Western Tales’ where a couple of JL members ended up stranded in the old West thanks to time travel?

Well, turns out there was a comic book very similar to it written by Gerry Conway with art by Don Heck but starring a different set of JL members which may or may not have been the inspiration for the episode:

The episode was written by the late Dwayne McDuffie who was no stranger to writing in references to older comics. For instance, the two parter ‘Brave and the Bold’ Flash’s hallucinations were references to various Silver Age Flash comic covers and he was also very open about the fact that the line up for the Terra Beyond two parter was based on Marvel comics Defenders (no not the Netflix team, the one with Namor and Dr Strange). Even the episode title itself, ‘Weird Western Tales’ is a reference to the long running anthology series of the same name featuring DC’s western characters.

The story arc in the comics ran from Justice League of America Vol 1 #198-199.

While it’s hard to conclusively say that the episode was inspired by the comic, there are some interesting similarities like Batlash’s introduction here:

I posted Zatanna’s meeting with Cinnamon earlier in another post but here is a little excerpt:

Interesting to note that one of the goons calls her an ‘Eastern Filly’ (is it because of the way she was dressed or a subtle hint that she is not 100% Caucasian?). The heroes and their new Western cowboy friends all meet at a Saloon:

Then they all ride off on horses out of town to confront the villain and of course, faces robot cowboys:

The differences begin with the choice of the time travelling villain, the comic went with classic JL villain: the Lord of Time:

JLU went with David Clinton, aka Chronos. He’s a different villain who is primarily the enemy of the Atom/Ray Palmer but has also fought the JL on occasion.

The Lord of Time on the other hand, is a conqueror from the future who travelled back in time with future technology to conquer the past and rule the future. Sound familiar? He was Kang before Kang. Since JLU’s version of Chronos comes from the future, you could make a case that version is a combination Chronos and Lord of Time.

Then of course, there is the line up, the comic features Zatanna, Elongated Man, Barry Allen and Hal Jordan whereas the show features Wonder Woman, Batman and Green Lantern. Superman also appears trying to thwart the Lord of Time in the present day.

On the Western heroes side, we got Diablo instead of Cinnamon and Scalphunter is replaced by Pow Wow Smith (and it only takes a cursory glance at the characters wikipedia pages to see why the socially conscious Dwayne McDuffie made that choice).

The plot of the JLU episode involved a corrupt sheriff using future technology to take over the town but the plot of the comic is a little different. The Lord of Time sent the heroes back in time, erased their memories, because an anti matter meteor was set to strike earth on that day. The LoT is counting on the heroes to stop the meteor so he can have it for himself so he can use it to conquer the world. (Why he doesn’t just get the meteor himself? Maybe he didn’t have the technology to?)

Anyway, the heroes learn about the anti matter meteor heading towards them, Zatanna is reluctant to leave her new found cowgirl girlfriend with her friends to fight the robots:

But she ends up going anyway:

Can I just say, I really like this shot of Zee and Green Lantern flying together? Even though she is depowered during this period, they never really stuck strictly to the ‘she can only manipulate the elements’ ethos. Having her flying alongside GL and being unabashed powerhouse is really cool and shows her place among the DCU. There is no ‘she has to be taken out so someone else can shine’ bs here. Also, reading these comics, I have felt that GL makes the most sense as the field leader of the JL; power based on creativity and will power and they are specifically trained to work together and take on strange extra terrestrial or otherwise threats. I think any of the human GL’s (except maybe Guy) can lead the team.

Zatanna and GL manage to stop the meteor. But in present timeline the Lord of Time ends up defeated by Superman (early on he got in a kryptonite trap set by the LoT but managed to escape) just as the time trapped Leaguers make their way back.

Awww, a krytonite waterfall wasn’t that bad, Clark.

Overall, the issue was alright. It does feel like placeholder (albeit a fun one) before the big #200 celebration issue (I posted some scans from that here). Come to think of it, the episode came off as filler as well, with the Western parts feeling like a fun romp and ultimately inconsequential to the arcs of the main heroes but the follow up portion set in the Batman Beyond timeline was more impactful and memorable.

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a-usernamelol · 7 months ago

Text

Some Allan and his dad writing vomit

I was bored, somewhat in a bad mood and wanted a pick me up, so I wrote two pages worth of no plot, pure softness, happy Allan after being adopted by @the-chaotic-scilla-aster original character Milo Sullivan Calix, or just Calix, as Allan usually knows him by. Keep in mind I have not checked this for grammer or spelling mistakes because I kind of made this in the spark of the moment, so honestly grammer wise it’s probably terrible LMAO Enjoy my delulu bs lol

Gold rays of sunshine poured through the window, forcing all in its path to bask in its supposed glory. The rug shone ever brighter in the warmth, each strand reaching up into its light much like glowing plants. The table was firmer in the light, standing tall so the wood might reflect the light in its glory.

Allan, on the other hand, had squeezed himself and a blanket into a shadow against the wall, where the light didn’t reach, curled up in a pile of pillows on the couch, comfortably snuggled away in his little fortress. He had the blanket wrapped around every part of him, feet holding it down and his lip’s gently cuddled against the warmth, as if some great wind would rip it away in an instant.

He was so small, for someone who could be considered tall. His knees were pulled up against his chest in a way that couldn’t possibly be comfortable for more than an hour, yet he had been in that position throughout the night.

Then, his silence was interrupted by light steps wandering over, someone much larger and stronger than him, who chuckled at the sight of the boy curled up into nothing. He sat down next to the pile of pillows and reached over to pet the pink hair that glittered reflections of the light, defiant to the boy’s wants of shadow.

Allan stayed perfectly still, as if trying to fake his own death, trying to ignore the fingers pleasantly brushing his hair, hoping to wake him up gently. Eventually Allan took notice that they weren’t going away and he grumbled pathetically, squeezing himself closer into his blanket, which only made the stocky old man laugh and reach over and pull him up a bit by the shoulders, which in turn only made Allan complain more.

“Get up, the sun has risen and so must you, you comfy thing.” Calix cooed gently as Allan dragged the blanket against his mouth again, the pillows he had so meticulously built around himself tumbling onto the floor in a great ploof of stuffing.

“You have a room you know.” The old man continued, causing Allan to grumble once more.

“I was comfy.” He bemoaned.

“That, I gathered.” Calix messed up Allan’s carefully combed hair by mussing it with his gigantic palm. Allan squinted in mock irritation.

“Come. I made eggs on toast.” Calix continued, getting up from the couch, causing Allan to feel the couch shift. Allan defiantly plopped back down, as if to fall asleep again. Calix let out a loud laugh, and turned to walk to the kitchen. He looked behind him at the tiny mass of blankets.

“Well I can give your plate to your beast friends, if you're not hungry.” At Calix’s empty threat, Allan seemed to gain motivation and- still complaining- he got up and stood up, immediately getting bombarded with the sunlight and blinking to keep it out of his eyes while he adjusted. He huffed and wandered over to meet Calix by the kitchen table, immediately being met with Coin, one of his many nifflers, eating scrambled eggs from a small bowl. He raised an eyebrow.

“The little one heard me cooking and seemed to want a share.” Calix explained, Allan shrugging as he sat down at the table.

“I s’pose he got out of the pen then.” He sighed. Ever since he had moved to Italy to live with his newfound father he had had difficulties figuring out living situations for his many beast friends. Firestarter, his Phoenix, had been the easiest. He had a perch with grasses and toys in Allan’s own room, connected to the wall. Allan’s many nifflers were kept in a pen outside. He had been forced to part ways with Highwing, eventually just giving her to Poppy and her grandmother to take care of, and The Lord Of The Shore had stayed with Poppy as well (much to her delight). He had given up his two puffskeins and various magical birds besides Firestarter to Professor Howin, who promised to give them good homes away from poacher activities. It broke his heart that he could no longer keep as many pets as he once did, but he reminded himself that they all had good homes where they would never be hurt by poachers, and that they would lead better lives than if they had stayed with him, cramped in a pen.

Still, even if it was to his dismay, it was for the better as he had a home now. Someone who wanted to take care of him like family. A guardian. He would have to track down the hole in the fence the nifflers kept getting into. It was getting most irritating to take care of their escape plots.

He sighed and took a bite of his breakfast, the bread squishing under the pressure of his teeth and cleanly coming apart into crumbs. He sighed happily. It felt nice to have something fresh that wasn’t made by bound hands like at Hogwarts, but rather by someone openly offering to care for him. He felt loved. And it was nice.

Calix sat down across from him at the table and smiled as he watched Allan’s pleased expression.

“It’s good, I take it then?” Calix chuckled, sounding pleased at Allan’s happiness. Allan nodded in reply as he tasted the egg and practically melted inside. He leaned against the table and watched Coin sniff out its bowl after only taking seconds to eat its contents. Allan could see the vivid display of disappointment and so he ripped off part of his toast and held it out to the niffler, who took it in his tiny paws and immediately started eating it in gulps.

Calix chuckled as he watched Allan affectionately take care of the small beast as he himself finally began digging into his own meal.

“No wonder you have such a knack for beasts if you take care of them like that all the time.” Calix smiled as he skewered a piece of egg with his fork.

“I spoil them.” Allan hummed as he distractedly watched Coin happily dig into the bread. Calix watched for a moment, soaking in the sight of Allan leaning his chin against his palm and holding himself up so he could happily watch Coin eat.

“Good.” Calix nodded, thinking to himself for a moment. “Best to show your love for them not only to gain their favor but also their friendship. Sometimes, it’s the simplest things that make it the clearest, son.”

Allan hummed softly, watching Coin finish the bread and he smiled, looking over at Calix with the sweetest expression, his violet eyes glittering with the light of the sun. He seemed so happy, and so very loved.

#hogwarts legacy #the mcverse #allan waite #hogwarts legacy mc

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lykaios2 · 1 year ago

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Mikey x reader right?

ik this a cliche, but Mikey gets turned into a lil tot.

After a day Mikey still didn't turn back and reader is concerned, but the turts have a mission so they are doing this on their own.

throughout the whole thing, the realize how manipulative Mikey really is, but they don't mind cuz he's cute- reader is like a mom the whole time, wpoling him and shi.

mid snacktime(1day later) Mikey turns back as he is begging for cuddles. everything is awkward, w/ reader holding a cup of applesauce and pea-tos in their hands.

"can we PLEASE have cuddles? I promiiiii*turns back with a poof*- ok what the hell. is that peatos?"

*reader just standing in the middle of the kitchen*

enjoy(u request beggar, I need sum too)

-ya gurl chip❤️❤️

oml this was a nightmare to write for no reason at all other than my brain couldn't process this request ;-;

anyway I tried my best

hope you enjoy! ❤️

The Troubles of Turning to a Tot

mikey x reader (platonic? romantic? idk)

“I’m telling you, Raph, my head is killing me!”

“Whatever, dude. Let’s just go.”

Ah, the privilege of being the youngest. He could get nearly anything he wanted if he begged hard enough. He laughed as they left, his scheme working once again. He went to his room and grabbed his comics, flopping on his bed and flipping through the pages. He wasn’t normally the type to just sit back and let his brothers do the work, but he couldn’t help but take advantage of his younger sibling privilege once or twice in a while.

“Yo! Orange! Where are you?!” Your shouts echoed throughout the lair. Much to Mikey’s surprise, you were paying him a visit.

“I ain’t telling you, because my name isn’t Orange!” He hated the nickname. You had heard Splinter call him that one time, and you still wouldn’t drop it.

“Whatever, I’ll find you in like two minutes.”

~~~~~~~

“Dude, no way.”

“I know! It’s so easy!” Mikey again relished in the fact of how easy it was to get his brothers to do almost anything he wanted. “They fall for it almost every time.”

“One of these days, one of them is gonna figure out that this is BS.”

“They probably already have. But it’s either letting me stay home, or hearing me whine the whole time.”

You only sighed in response to his stupid loophole logic. How did you ever come to love this trainwreck of a turtle man?

“Ugh...now that I mention it, though, my head does kind of actually hurt.” He got up and started pacing a little, holding his head.

“Haha, very funny.” You weren’t stupid, Mikey had just told you about how he used this trick on his brothers. Plus, he was quite the prankster anyway, so there was not a doubt in your mind that he was joking. He said his stomach was upset as well, but you weren’t phased. You had seen before how far Mikey was willing to go for the bit. What really raised an eyebrow was when he sat down on the floor in the fetal position. Whenever he started going a little too far like this, you prepared yourself in case something was actually going wrong. You still weren’t fully convinced, though.

“y/n...could you grab me some water from the refrigerator? Whatever’s going on with me, it kinda sucks...”

“Oh sure, what now? I’m gonna open the refrigerator and a boxing glove will come out, sending me comically flying to the other end of the kitchen.” You joked, but at this point, if he started doing anything else, you were going to start taking action.

“Ow...please...y/n...the pain…” He groaned. You quickly got up from your seat and walked over to the cupboards, looking for a cup. While your back was turned, you could hear a loud *poof* come from behind you.

“Aw, come on, Mikey. What is this, a smoke bomb?” You said, waving away the strange clouds that had appeared behind you. “...Mikey?”

No response. You walked into the cloud of smoke to find...a child? That also looked like a turtle?

“Uh...Mikey?” You looked around, trying to figure out where the turtle had gone. Instead, the child looked up at you and responded.

“Hi! That’s me, Mikey! But what’s your name?”

You stood there, dumbfounded. Was Mikey...a kid now? How had that even happened? Something gave you the feeling that this wasn’t a prank anymore…

~~~~~~~

“So let me get this straight...you’re Mikey, but now you’re kid. You know where you are, but you don’t know who I am. But you know your brothers.”

“Yup!”

You sat in the living room now. You had finally figured out what in the world was going on, but still had no clue how. At this point, the only thing you could do was keep him safe until his brothers came back.

“Well...I guess I have to, like, take care of you.” Mikey gasped and smiled.

“You’re gonna watch me until my brothers get back? Yay! We’re gonna have so much fun! Come on, let’s go!” Mikey ran off, leaving you in the living room alone.

“Hey! Get back here”

~~~~~~~

You had heard stories about how rambunctious Mikey had been as a child. But actually having to take care of him was another thing. He had an impossible amount of energy. He was constantly running around and climbing everywhere. You had never had to watch a kid like this before.

“Mikey! Get back here, you have food all over your face!” He just kept running away, giggling all the while. “How are you so fast?!”

He also had no sense of danger, which meant he got hurt a lot more. Or so you thought, until one time when Mikey tripped and fell, and he started to scream and cry.

“My knee is bleeding! It hurts!”

“Oh goodness, again? Let me grab you another bandaid...” You walked out of the room to get another bandaid for Mikey, when you heard his crying stop. You peeked your head back to find Mikey sitting on the floor completely silent. No crying, not even a single tear. And his knee wasn’t even bleeding. He was completely fine!

“You little liar!” He whipped his head around, shocked to see you. “You weren't hurt at all! You just wanted to...actually, why did you do that?”

He wouldn’t say a word, too afraid to get in trouble. He crossed his arms and turned away from you, refusing to tell the truth. He only spoke after you promised to not tell Splinter so he wouldn’t get in trouble.

“I…I wanted a cool bandaid. I really like the bandaids. But Dad says that we should only use them when we’re really hurt.”

You sighed. Mikey just wanted a bandaid...but he lied for it? Was he really this mischievous of a child? But he also just lied to his brothers…

“We’re gonna have a talk about this later…” You commented under your breath, before speaking to Mikey again. At this point, it was getting late, and you were exhausted. “I have an idea...why don’t we go lay down and watch a movie?” Mikey, ashamed that he had been caught in his lie, nodded and got up to walk to the living room.

~~~~~~~

Mikey passed out almost immediately. He denied ever being tired, but his eyelids kept drooping lower and lower. He slumped over onto you as he slowly grew more and more sleepy. Looking down at him, he looked pretty adorable when he was actually sitting still, asleep.

“Not tired, huh? Heh, that’s what they all say.” You looked around again for any sign of his brothers, but there was nothing. “Guess I gotta put you to bed then.”

You hoisted him up into your arms. He was heavier than you expected, but he was a turtle mutant. Not exactly a normal child. You carried him to his bedroom, laying him down on his bed. You almost walked away, but not before Mikey grabbed your arm in his sleep, pulling you back.

The little gesture melted your heart, making you completely forget what had happened earlier. You smiled and laid down next to him, letting him have his way. He wrapped himself around your arm, making sure you knew you weren’t allowed to leave.

You laid a blanket over him, and closed your eyes. Next thing you knew, you were fast asleep, right next to Mikey.

~~~~~~~

“y/n...I’m thirsty.”

“Right...of course you are. Come on, then.”

“I don’t want to go. The monster will get me.”

“No it won’t, I’ll protect you.”

“You pinky promise?”

“Yes, I pinky promise.”

~~~~~~~

The next morning, when you woke up, you looked next to you to find Mikey not there. Worried, you frantically got out of the bed and ran to find Mikey. Much to your relief, and also confusion, he was in the living room, watching TV and eating cereal.

“Did you make that yourself? And you put the TV on, too?” you asked, pointing to the bowl of cereal in his hands.

“Yep! I’m a big kid, I can take care of myself.” You shrugged, sitting on the couch next to him. He quietly finished his bowl of cereal, and went to put it in the sink. You thought to yourself that maybe today he would be calm for once. But when Mikey didn’t come back from the kitchen, those thoughts were gone.

~~~~~~~

He was back at it again, hyper as ever. The only difference between yesterday and today was that you knew Mikey’s tricks. You made sure to check if he was really hurt. Thankfully, he never was. On the contrary, he was quite the resilient kid. But he was still rambunctious. You couldn’t ever get him to sit still for more than 30 seconds.

“y/n, I’m hungryyyyy…”

“Didn’t you just eat?”

“Yeah, but I’m hungry again.”

“I’ll go get you some more Goldfish then…”

“No! I want apples.” You groaned.

“Apples, apples, of course…let’s go then.”

You begrudgingly walked to the kitchen, and looked around for some apples to cut up. As you tried to slice the apples, you could feel Mikey tugging on your shirt. “y/n…”

“I’m working on it! Give me a minute…”

“y/n, my tummy hurts.”

“It’s probably because you’re hungry. I’m almost done with the apples.”

“But it’s not like that…my tummy hurts hurts…”

“Well, some food and water should make you feel a little better.”

Mikey nodded, and started clinging to your leg. You could feel him sniffling, and you looked down to see him with tears welling up in his eyes.

“Oh, hey, hey…don’t worry, it’ll be okay…um…” You looked around for anything that could help him, but before you could find anything, you heard a loud *poof* and suddenly Mikey was standing in front of you, his normal self again.

“Oh, hey y/n! You okay, you look a little stressed. And what’s with the apples, you hungry?”

“M-Mikey?”

“Yeah?” You closed your eyes and all but fell over. “Woah! Man down! You need some rest…let’s go sit down, why don’t we? Then maybe you can tell me what’s going on.”

“Please…that would be lovely.”

#rottmnt #tmnt 2018 #rise of the tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt mikey #mikey x reader #tmnt x reader #tmnt x y/n #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt x y/n #rise mikey #rise michelangelo #lykaios writes

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buddiebeginz · 7 months ago

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there's so much data that shows that BT is dying at least from fandom spaces. the tumblr numbers have got astronomically down for bt in a very short time, the fanfic ratio of buddie fics to bt fics if you just look at the evan buckley tag is insane. like we're talking in the first two pages a ratio of 30+ buddie fics to 5 bt fics like it's clear a lot of them have seen the writing on the wall about this pairing and it's obvious it's not lasting but then you got the 15% making a complete and utter fool of themselves everyday and once again Lou continues to ignore them completely and oliver interacting with Ryan giving Buddie fans content. It's pretty obvious that the mustache is something eddie does while trying to discover his identity and a mustache is so given in queer history. like we are so winning.

Honestly nonie it feels like the rightful order of things is returning and nature is healing and all that jazz. We dealt with so much bs from that fandom during s7 and even into the hiatus. Including them trying to make it seem like we're the delusional ones and Buddie could never happen. We've only even gotten bits and pieces of what season 8 will be at this point and it's already going in our direction.

I think there will be some who will always have love for B/T but I think as it becomes clear that ship isn't going to last (likely beyond a few eps in s8 if that) most will probably go back to shipping Buddie. Though I expect there will be a loud handful who will complain about losing their lord and savior T*mmy until the bitter end. But we're all going to be so busy squealing over new Buddie related content we'll drown them out pretty quickly.

Oh and I totally agree about Eddie and the mustache. That is a such staple in queer men's culture and history. Given how both Buck and Eddie's storylines have gone recently it just makes the most sense that they're using it as a symbol to the audience for Eddie's journey in s8.

#buddie #911 buddie #911!#911 s8*

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jamiesnovels · 4 months ago

Text

Writing with ADHD

I was diagnosed with ADHD just over two months ago. It was only then that I realized just how debilitating it was to my creative endeavor.

For context, I have been writing – or perhaps I should say, trying to write – for about twenty years now. The relative brevity of school projects, coupled with the multitasking nature of upper-level courses, made school writing assignments doable. Still, I remember many a day in college spent vomiting words on paper as quickly as I could, skimming and re-skimming and re-re-skimming the same section of the book I was supposed to have read days or even weeks ago to find whatever I could to BS my way to some sort of poignant point. This was not most assignments, to be clear, but it was more than a few.

I will emphasize, I did well in school, from the year my writing spark came to me all the way through college. My psychologist suggested my focus on subjects that interested me, as well as the multitasking aspect of study, was a coping mechanism. At any rate, while focused on school, my free time was rarely spent on my passion.

Not for lack of trying: Every year, I’d have one or two different story ideas in my head, and I’d feverishly scribble through a composition notebook (College Rule, of course) with my No. 2 pencil (Dixon Ticonderoga, always), or since college, my Pilot G-2 black-ink pen (0.38 font, or 0.5 if I absolutely had to). (You may infer from my parentheticals that I had a thing about space optimization, maximizing words-per-page, but I digress.)

Those ideas never got far. Every time, I would slow to a stop after one or two weeks at most. Dismayed by my grammar, overwhelmed by the plot rolling around in my head, or just embarrassed that someone might read what I wrote and judge me harshly for it. The plot in my head stayed in my head. Ideas stayed ideas.

And as I got older, I slowed down. College was part of it: nearly all my free time was spent on homework or the one or two clubs I enjoyed. And then when work came along, the mental effort and sheer stress left me exhausted by the end of the day.

My First Breakthrough

In November 2021, I decided to join NaNoWriMo. (Referencing that organization leaves a foul taste in my mouth today, following its many scandals that leave it disgraced. But I digress.)

I joined because I was tired of being tired all the time. I was tired of having all these ideas in my head and never getting them down on paper. I was tired of always feeling like a failure. I had to prove to myself that I could do it.

And I did. In three weeks and change, I had a vomit draft of a story I had ideated over the past couple years, the first in a five-book series. It was a grand achievement for me. Just writing every day for a whole month was huge, but to turn around and see that I had produced so much in so little time was eye-opening.

I realized, from this experience, that I can do it. I can produce, even with ADHD, even with a day job that sapped all my energy, even with everything else going on in this world.

Then I started revising. At first, the momentum continued. I managed to do a lot to clean up the very concept of the story by early 2022. I changed settings, improved pacing, honed in on my central message, and made my protagonist more relatable. But that was the easy part.

As I began drilling down the scope of my revisions, my drive rapidly faded. The more I had to think about my novel, the less energy I had to expend on it. More and more, I would try to tackle something, get overwhelmed after a couple days, then drop the whole project for months – even over a year at one point!

I simply did not have the mental energy to expend on it. It was demoralizing, especially after such an early success.

My Second Breakthrough

A few months ago, I started seeing a therapist. After some sessions, they recommended I find someone to investigate whether I had ADHD, and with a little luck, I landed a psychologist with the proper credentials. Then I was diagnosed.

I started my ADHD treatment the day after I turned 28. It was like night and day.

That day, I told myself I was going to plunge back into my novel, just to see how I could do. I did more work on that novel in a single day than I think I’ve done in the time between then and February 2022.

And every single day since I began my treatment, I’ve continued working. Comparing my novel today to the one two months ago… they’re pretty much nothing alike. Today, I can only say that I am extraordinarily happy with where my book is.

But I’m going to say something that might surprise you: the secret to my turnaround was not medication. While I did in fact start medication, I still found myself overwhelmed at the prospect of tackling my draft. Until I began working on another tactic recommended for ADHD folks like myself: goal-setting.

Goal-setting

Setting attainable sub-goals for my story progress gave me that extra little bit of motivation I needed to wake up each morning and get right back to work. I personally found success with the S.M.A.R.T. goal framework: Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, and Time-Bound.

Okay, in my first draft of this blog post, I got a little carried away and started writing in detail each step of S.M.A.R.T. This post is long enough already, and there are tons of guides on the internet going into better detail than I did.

What I really want to give you is an understanding that, to write with ADHD, I needed to set concrete, small, achievable goals – with a deadline. Because what drives me, and what I believe drives many ADHD folks, is that sense of accomplishment when a goal is achieved. That dopamine rush when we can say “I did X” or “I accomplished Y.”

To give ourselves a healthy dose of dopamine, to keep ourselves going, we need to start small. Have an idea in your head? Try to come up with at least a couple small goals to be completed before you even start your vomit draft. Have the theme written down by the end of today, define the characters and their arcs by the end of the week, sketch out the beats by next Tuesday. Those are just examples, but hopefully you get the idea.

If your only goal is “I wanna write a book,” you’re going to be working for weeks or months or years toward that goal. That dopamine rush is so far away, you can’t expect to keep your motivation up for all that time. And if you try to rush it, you will fail: you don’t have time to complete and polish a whole book in a month. No, you need to start small. Small doses of dopamine every few days will give you much more drive to keep going.

The reason my progress sloughed off in early 2022 was because I didn’t have any small, attainable goals on the horizon. I just wanted to “finish the draft.” It was too much for anyone to stick with, let alone someone with ADHD. And even after I got medication, the idea of tackling the massive draft was still overwhelming. Until I gave myself a small goal to start with.

Conclusion

I hope you found this interesting, maybe even a little bit helpful. If you can relate to anything I’ve touched on here, feel free to leave a comment – I’d love to hear your story. While you’re at it, consider following; I’m trying to navigate a world very new to me with this social media presence, so the support would be extremely helpful. Finally, if you know anyone else who may relate to any of these words I’ve written, consider sharing my post with them.

Thank you so very much for reading!

#adhd #neurodivergence #writing #writeblr #art #literature #goals

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todays-just-a-daydream · 4 months ago

Text

You guys supported Oasis back in ‘94.

Yeah?

There’s a rumor of you almost breaking up the band and spawning the whole ‘Talk Tonight’ song origin story, in which Noel goes off to San Francisco and writes a song about his time with a girl who essentially prevented him from giving up music forever. Is that true?

Well, like all the best stories in the world musicians love to fucking folklore themselves up the wazoo, about the ins and outs and what have you’s of their lives, but oftentimes those tend to be absolute BS and oftentimes they can be somewhere in between.

In between?

The deal with Oasis on that night was we had played with Sonic Boom and Spectrum the night before in Santa Barbara, which is adjacent to Los Angeles California. And we did the gig and drove back to San Francisco, which is a 6-7 hour drive. And we showed up at the club, it was one of our home team clubs called Bottom of the Hill and played for Oasis. And the way that this came to be is that I worked at Reckless Records, even before the Chicago store opened, there was one in San Francisco, and I worked there.

That’s cool considering that the London store is on Berwick Street where they shot the ‘(What’s the Story) Morning Glory?’ cover!

Exactly! And originally, they had a store in San Francisco and that’s where I worked. This is ‘94. This is when all the shit’s coming out, before it was the shit! There was no such term as Britpop at the time. So I see this stack of new releases come down from DudeBro who has to pass down all the new releases, and on top of it is a CD single. And it’s this band Oasis. And y’know, if you look at the single cover of Oasis they don’t look that cool. They’re kinda frumpy.

So what happened that night?

This is going to be a longer interview than you thought man. Cause I love buildups. So I listen to the single ‘Supersonic’, that was the one on the stack, and that one didn’t really do it for me, it wasn’t all vintagey and cool, the amp sounds sounded kind of like a Tom Petty record. That wasn’t it. But the B side was ‘Columbia’.

‘Columbia’ is great. Beast of a song.

Well yes, ‘Columbia’ is where all the cocaine comes from. Hence the title. And I was a huge speed freak in the 90’s because in the 90’s, uppers were serving the same purpose as they were in the 60’s with Andy Warhol, or cocaine was in the flapper period. So I got that. What they were trying to say, I dug that. You with me?

I’m with you.

Do you even care? How many pages do you get for this?

However many pages you want.

Well, I’m probably more interesting than a lot of the jive ass – psych fucking crap that has to get printed these days. I’ve been around a bit. So then the ‘Shakermaker’ single came out a couple of months later. You know, ‘Shakermaker’, “shake along with me”, et cetera et cetera. I currently was shaking along to the Brian Jonestown Massacre on Maracas, and I thought “oh well that’s kind of cool!” and I kind of related to that. Then ‘Live Forever’ came out. I was in, then I loved the band. Then the first album came out and then the advertisement came out that they were playing at our local haunt Bottom of the Hill. So I got our manager to get us a gig there to open for them and we played the gig with Oasis.

Did you know they were going to be big?

Absolutely! Well they already kind of were because ‘Definitely, Maybe’ had come out two weeks before, but they’re playing this theatre which is a 250 person club, when they could be playing to fuckin’ 10,000!

A couple of years later they were at Knebworth, then Glasto, then Wembley. The list goes on. Pretty Meteoric. Anyway, back to your story.

I’m out of my mind on the most righteous methamphetamine that’s ever been bequeathed by the science of man, and we pulled up to the club to do soundcheck. And sure enough, there’s their big ass fuckin bus, we had never been on a big ass fucking bus, we didn’t know what that was about. I’m thinking to myself, “Alright ‘Shakermakers’, let’s hit the road and go to ‘Columbia’” And the first thing I did was go and knock on the door of the bus. Noel Gallagher opens the door. And I say to him, “Hey man, I’ve got the most righteous fucking speed you’re ever going to do in your life”

(Joel in a very poor British accent) “No thanks man we only do coke”

And he shuts the door. And I’m looking at my own reflection like “what!?” Fast forward an hour later, and the girl that I scored speed for ran into Liam coming out of the soundcheck. And she’s like “hey do you wanna do any?” and Liam’s “Mr mad fer it” guy, so he does it, then he gives it to Bonehead, then he gives it to the whole fuckin band and the whole goddamn crew, and they’re playing the gig that night, and all the jaws are just working like old fashioned train crankshafts, and they had never heard nor seen nor felt anything like that, but that is what I was doing every day. It was, as they called it, “Ninja Speed”.

Interview with Joel Gion from The Brian Jonestown Massacre on Oasis at the Whisky 1994

#what happened in LA #oasis #randomly stumbled on this looking for something else and had to share #brian jonestown massacre #whisky a go go #tjad posts #1994 #30 years ago today #one of several rashomon oasis days where you have 10 different accounts but this one might be my favorite #love how he prefaces this with the band folklore note #and refuses to cut straight to the point he needs the entire set up

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c-e-d-dreamer · 5 months ago

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The fandom is so lucky to have you! We appreciate having you here and all that you contribute to it ❤️❤️

1. What brought you into the fandom?

2. What character(s) do you feel the most connected to and why?

3. Out of all of SJM’s books, which one means the most to you and why?

4. Out of all of the SJM couples (fanon, canon, endgame, etc) which one means the most to you and why?

Keep doing you ❤️

Oooooo! How fun! I am all for some positivity in this fandom and this is so so sweet 🥰

1. What brought you into the fandom?

So I read the ACOTAR series in spring of 2021 after they went viral on TikTok post-ACOSF (yes, I'm one of those people who read it because of TikTok, please don't judge me) and then I made the mistake that summer of trying to engage with the TikTok fandom.... Dark times.... But thankfully, I still had this Tumblr from my previous fandom days, so I came here for more Nessian content and instead found the beautiful Tumblr Nessian Community (tm). I saw there was a Nessian Appreciation Week in September and decided to dip my toe back into fic writing, and now here I am... Still writing fic but for Nessian Appreciation Week 2024

2. What character(s) do you feel the most connected to and why?

Definitely Nesta, my beloved and my wife! It's funny, when I finally got my best friend to start the series, she knew Nesta was my fave going in, and she didn't even make it that far before I got a text from her saying "oh, I get it now. Nesta is you." Like damn read me to filth I guess 😂 yes, I too have Daddy Issues and refuse to talk about my feelings. But I also relate and love Nesta's love for her sisters! Despite the way this fandom tries to say she doesn't or doesn't love them equally or whatever other BS they're always spouting. Like Nesta would commit a murder for Elain and/or Feyre with 0 hesitation, and honestly? I would for my siblings too.

3. Out of all of SJM's books, which one means the most to you and why?

Hmmm.... Tough question. I've only read the ACOTAR series (I DNFed CC, sorry). I guess I'd have to say ACOSF? I will say as much as I shit on that book and the questionable/terrible choices SJM made as a writer in that book, there is a lot of good that I love. I love that we got to see the other side of the coin, to really understand and experience what Nesta was going through, and seeing that on page really did mean a lot to me. I just wish we got more than the two dimensional mess we got from the other POV. Wish we got more actual romance and more actual healing. But alas....

4. Out of all of the SJM couples (fanon, canon, endgame, etc) which one means the most to you and why?

I mean I have to say Nessian, my beloveds. They got me back into writing fics after I hadn't written one since like 2015. But even more than that, without Nessian, I never would have met the lovely people on this app that I get to call genuine friends now. I love our small little corner of the fandom where we try our hardest to mind our business and make Cassian suffer but also hit it aka make him better

#answered #this was fun!

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nikethestatue · 1 year ago

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I wonder if SJM’s problem is she spends a shorter time on her drafts and longer time on multiple rounds of edits? From the other authors I follow, a lot of them spend like 6 months writing the book and be really thoughtful about what they’re writing, and about 4 months in edits. Whereas SJM seems to spend like 2-3 months word vomiting her draft (I’m pretty sure she has used those words and said her first drafts are always bad) and then spends like 6-7 months in the editing process. I feel like when SJM was writing two books a year, she was also simultaneously drafting at least 2 books ahead and so she had more time to actually work on and think about a book. Whereas now I don’t think she’s writing any books in advance anymore, it seems like she just starts a draft of the next book to be published, flies by the seat of her pants, and there’s the book. Which ends up not being very good. Idk. I wonder what would happen if she spent more time drafting so that she won’t have to do as many edits later on. Idk. I’m just really trying to figure out what has gone wrong with her in the past 4 years lol

Oh yeah, absolutely. When she says that she rewrote an 800 page book in 5 weeks it just tells me it's BS and she is just phoning it in. I know it was basically a major self-edit, but still.

It takes a long time to write a book, especially of that size. So the question is why do you need to rewrite the whole thing, and how do you do it so quickly?

Some people have suggested AI. LOL I mean it would explain the nonsensical jumps and the jumbled narrative.

it does baffle me as to why she is still so popular. Her products have `been slipping in quality book after book.

I think that ultimately, she got completely side tracked by that stupid show. She dropped the actual writing, she moved across the country, she was spending most of her time with the show writers and everything took a backseat to it, because I thinks he fancied herself becoming rich and famous like GRR Martin or Bargudo or Collins.

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mdhwrites · 1 year ago

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Omg is crisis girlfriends inspired by Sayori and Yuri????????:D

Looks at the cover. Looks at Sayori and Yuri. Looks at the KNIFE. You know, I see it but it was ENTIRELY on accident. XD

The inspiration for Crises Girlfriends is actually something I've been very honest about and have talked about before. In fact, it's so blunt that the fanfic version of it is still up for anyone to read because I wasn't about to take down a work that had helped some people understand therapy better and potentially seek it out themselves just to potentially help my sales numbers. Hell, I actually have the majority of it also on Wattpad but my brain kind of broke about posting things eventually. I promise I plan to get the rest of it there too.

To say it was inspired by The Owl House would be incredibly disingenuous though. Not only do I think TOH actually handles topics like these not super great, honestly just about as good as most fantasy works, but also because that's not what motivated me to write it. It's one of my most personal works for a reason after all since arguably it helped keep me from drowning for a while by giving a place for the water to go. Warning for some darkness related to the themes of Crises Girlfriends, mostly to do with depression, suicidal thoughts and crises in general. Also, you know, spoilers for potentially my worst performing book.

So almost two years ago when I first started the project, I was in a really bad place. There's a moment in the story where Anisa puts a hand on the side of her head that then shifts to pretending to having a finger gun against her temple. It's one of the moments in the story that I assumed people might call out as over the top. After all, it's not like the thoughts have that much control and it's silly imagery anyways!

But it's where I was at. The thoughts were that prevalent that they were always trying to find ways to creep from the subconscious to the conscious. It was awful and it wasn't helping the feeling that I'd lost the magic that had been flowing through me the year prior as I'd managed a novella and some small bits of writing here and there but not the hundreds of thousands of words a month I had been managing. I was making more and more drastic trade offs with my mind to keep going and this was one more. The last one that has actually worked.

I was scared and asked myself if I needed to go to a Crises Center again. I'd been to one seven years prior back in Alaska and this wasn't the first time I'd considered going back. Then a thought popped into my head. Take the couple who I still loved and send them into the center. I'd played with both of them having depression and the like before to great effect and this would be someway to get these feelings and thoughts out of my head and onto the page.

There were two mandates from go from my brain though: The first was that Luz, Anisa in the original version, had to be hurt when she smiled. It was another one of those things I thought people would call BS on because of it being over the top but was once again true to my reality. I use comedy as a defense. My whole family does. This song may as well be a theme for the Hudsons.

youtube

And so when I know my depression is truly out of control, when I'm in a state for the void to take over entirely, is when I'll crack a joke or something will make me smile and suddenly it will feel like a small black hole was made within me. It sucks the life out of me as it tries to destroy my mind and punishes me for even the concept of joy or happiness because it cannot even fathom those right now. It can only punish them.

The second was that the relationship couldn't be the answer to the problems. The support they gave each other could help them be more honest, could help them be more receptive to the care they needed, but the answers they got had to come from therapy. Had to come from my six years of experience with getting help. That's part of why literal lessons I have learned in therapy like mental fallacies are in there. It's why the story starts with THE depression questionnaire that so many who have been in therapy long enough will know all too well.

But otherwise, I just opened up a new document and began, using Luz and Amity as archtypes and inspiration but grounding it all in the years of misery I've been through. I will say though that one of their traits when it comes to depression actually only became true for me while writing it because I'm used to a more uncontrollable appetite but that Summer would see me struggling to eat, something that hadn't happened to me before. Usually failing to eat meant a BAD TIME mentally for me but there's reasons why that changed that Summer.

It is a love story. It's also a story about depression. It's my final, fond farewell to an year of writing these two characters who lit a fire in me and changed my genre focus. It's a lot of things and it's also the work I feel can do the most good because in the comments for it, I saw proof of that good. That people do need works like these and that my experiences could cross gender and racial boundaries because they're simply honest and earnest.

It is a work I would love you to check out, even if I could literally explain to you why so few have.

And just as a final part of this reminiscing: Since Crises Girlfriends finished, I have tapped at a couple projects. A couple chapters here and there on a half a dozen things and a few one offs. I haven't completed anything since though and I have tried to figure out why I'm so much more fragile about it all. Instead, I've let my analytical mind let me continue to do anything and I would like to thank all of you who follow me now, the vast majority of who follow me due to all the lessons I've tried to teach and ramblings I've spouted out, for indulging me.

Thank you, have a wonderful day and see you next tale.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#Depression #Crises Girlfriends #Personal

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