#I want to be a context for you‚ and you for me''

[energ00n]

I absolutely love your art, especially your most recent one >:]

When I was looking it over I was thinking of my own ideas/observations for the context behind the piece and I really wanted to share it :D

So, I was looking at the lighting and the way Orion's garment is wrapped around them both, and that made me really curious. Cuz, with the light on Jazz it's like a spotlight and and the garment is gently draped around him, plus you see a hint of Prima's "ear" or whatever you'd call it above Jazz! Then there's D, who's got a light on him like he's some criminal sneaking around an alleyway and he's tightly wrapped around the garment like he's caught doing something he's not supposed to do. With the garment, it makes me think that they both have Orion wrapped around their fingers (or digits) or! It's the other way around, and Orion has them wrapped around his finger, but I kind of doubt the latter since Jazz is a lot more clever and could easily slip out of Orion's grasp, but maybe that's also why the garment is loose around him, while D is all tangled up!

I got more thoughts to say, but my brain won't spit out the words XD

Really cool observation!! Tho I just want to clarify it's not Prima's wing audial it's just the back of Orion's garment

[shanastoryteller]

Congrats on finishing See Something Say Something!! I checked the notification of the first AO3 email sent out and you initially planned on five chapters.

Would you say that the ending changed considerably since you started in October? Or has that stayed the same?

thank you!

it stayed the same lol. while my fics getting wildly out of control and becoming way longer than i anticipated is pretty common, i'm pretty much never changing overarching plot when this happens. the story that i become interested in telling is typically the story then i end up telling

almost every story can be made shorter or longer. it's less about what happens and more about how that information is conveyed. things that really tend to affect writing length are perspective and breathing room

the shortest fic i have on ao3 that's not part of a series is You Were (Not) Meant For Me (posted 11 years ago, jesus T_T). the premise is that claudia was a witch who intended trained stiles to be a witch and she arranged his marriage to laura hale, the future hale alpha. this is a traditional pairing as talia's husband was also a witch married to talia in service of the pact. except claudia died before she could train stiles or tell him about the engagement. stiles starts learning magic after scott is turned. derek falls for stiles and feels like he's betraying his sister by loving him, betraying stiles by not being the alpha he deserves and not telling him about the arrangement claudia made, and hates himself the entire time, but not enough to stop himself

that's a 100k fic easy

it's 1,696 words

it's extremely limited perspective (derek's) and it's made up only of limited snapshots of moments with very little context. there's no seeing what's happening, only told, which i think would quickly grow boring if it was longer and if the real point of the story wasn't derek's self hatred and how he fails to deal with it. that's the part of the story that isn't told, really - derek does think explicitly that he hates himself, but we're also seeing it in the way he talks and thinks about himself and the people around him

by contrast we have survival is a talent, which is obviously my longest fic. we're over 500k and we've got quite a bit to go

perspective doesn't just refer to character pov, but audience pov - are you being told a story, or are you experiencing the story? this is also tied into breathing room. there's no wrong way, i've done both and will do both, but one certainly requires more words than the other in my experience

siat is told only through draco and harry's perspective, but it's all happening in real time. the audience is being taken along for this story. the thing is that that things in real life don't all come tumbling one after another, not all questions have immediate answers. when depicting character growth and a plot unfurling, i think it's really important to include breathing room to give the audience time to feel that growth and change. i'm stricter about this with siat than anything else i've written, probably sometimes to its detriment. i want you and the characters to have time to feel the effects of emotional revelations and plot hints. i want you to have the time to question and wonder about things the same way the characters do

one time a friend criticized the good place for including the portion where they were alive again on earth because it wasn't as interesting as being in hell, but i disagree. we needed that breathing room both to live with the effects of character growth of going through hell and to have time for the effects of their actions on the plot to settle before they moved forward again. i stopped watching agents of shield because we weren't given enough breathing room - there was never a chance to see the characters not in crisis, the world was always ending, ect. the alchemyst book series has the first like 3 books taking place over a day and a half. i got tired of it after that. there's no breathing room

a story where i gave up on the concept of breathing room was build your wings on the way down. i liked that fic, but i wanted it finished, and to do it with i think optimal pacing would have made it twice as long as it was. so i said screw it, avalanche time, everything is happening all at once right now. there's very little breathing room there, which i think doesn't work too terribly in part because everything is so urgent and everyone is stressed so not being able to catch you breath sort of fits

See Something Say Something did not need to be 215k, although i'm not at all complaining. i feel very happy with how i told this story. but the basic premise - sam getting his powers early, getting involved in the large hunter world secretly from his family, and dean feeling misplaced and worried about how much sam needs/wants him - could have been told a hundred different ways and all would have pulled it off, so to speak

i considered doing the the entire fic from dean's pov (as a sam girl i love his pov because all he thinks about is sam and he's so insane about it) which would have effectively cut out basically the first five chapters. i thought exploring the slow realization of what's going on purely from dean's pov, with the audience having not insight would have been really interesting, just like what I did in dumb luck or good ghost with dean slowly figuring out that sam didn't die in the crash. another thing is the inclusion of all the side characters which i did to make the world feel rich and real, but we didn't need all these outsider povs to get the basic point across. very rarely is something vital being conveyed by an outsider pov, but it reinforced and adds to the main characters. i also initially didn't have wincest, which obviously added a ton of words. i loved exploring dean's self hatred and fear and sam's obliviousness, but bringing them to a place of ignorance to acceptance to happiness is a lot longer of a journey than just dealing with dean's propriety love as an unhinged co-dependent older brother. again, i'm sticking by all these choices, i made them because i thought it was the best way to the tell the story i was most interesting in telling, but my point is that you didn't need them to tell this particular story

it was also how i told the story. we spend a lot of time wallowing in character's emotions, especially dean's and sam's, but the others as well. part of this fic is convincing you that these two brothers should fuck, actually, and doing that effectively is going to take some time, especially at this point in their lives when things are pretty normal. comparatively, fucking your brother after starting the apocalypse is pretty small potatoes. i wanted you to understand these people, to feel what they were feeling, to not feel that it was inconceivable that jess would be willing to share her boyfriend with his brother, to buy all their relationships with each other in a way that isn't purely based on convenience

part of the reason i wrote dumb luck or good ghost before see something say something was that i felt i needed a firmer grasp on who the characters are before getting into who they were and who they could be - especially john, who i feel is exceptionally difficult to write without over excusing his actions or over villainizing them. the reason john doesn't get a single pov in see something say something is that while he's a motivating and underlying factor in much of the story, the story isn't about him. it's about the effect he has on those around him, and i didn't want to sully the pureness of that effect by introducing his internal dialogue, regardless of how persecutionary or absolving it would be. it's just not about him. it's how he responds to others and how they respond to him in turn

anyway! this is another example of something ending up longer than expected, but yeah. the plot of see something say something didn't change much from posting of the first chapter and my stories rarely do - i have plot points in siat that have been there since i posted the first chapter that are still relevant and happening. "harry and draco just. cut dumbledore's fucking hand off" my beloved

[dollarbils]

call me maybe | b.eilish

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. your ex situation-ship knows how to manipulate herself back into your life, her motives however are masked by her nonchalant demeanour.

warnings. nonchalant billie, making out, confusing storyline lowk, haven’t started pt2

masterlist

- 2 years ago -

her eyes had been what captured your attention throughout the night. her gaze seemed to linger longer than it should, indicating her interest and therefore sparking curiosity in you. and something you couldn’t deny; she was gorgeous.

“where’s your friend?” her smooth voice pulled you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to your ongoing conversation.

“she ditched like twenty minutes after we got here, i haven’t seen her since.” you put it almost humorously, anticipating a full recap of her night when you’d call her in the morning.

“you’re not worried?” the girl seemed genuinely curious to know, clearly taking interest in the dynamic of your friendship, in the events of the night, in you.

“i was, the first time. i’ve gotten used to it. she’ll get home in one piece and rave about her night tomorrow morning.” she smiled at the fact you could foresee the outcome of your friend’s disappearance in the club, almost as if it were a habit.

“it’s kinda shitty that she ditched you, not a very good wingwoman. though i doubt you find it hard.” she subtly hinted at real reason behind her interest. it was easy to tell with her, there was no doubt in your mind that she’d be into girls. but you wondered if she’d assumed the same about you.

“what? like getting girls?” you’d given her the confirmation, to eliminate any uncertainty. and for a split second, you could swear you saw a small smile creep onto her lips.

“girls huh?” she put it as if she was somewhat surprised.

“what?” you questioned the look on her face.

“i just didn’t think id get that lucky.” she smirked and you felt your insides flutter.

“what do you mean?” you asked her to clarify, really just wanting her to put it into words.

“i know i just met you,” she paused for a second, pulling out her phone, “but here’s my number.” she tapped her phone against yours to transfer your contact, and you turned it on so that you could accept it.

billie eilish, that was her name.

- present -

it was her eyes that had been the main point of recognition. they were unmistakable, cold yet sultry, a perfect combination for a perfect disaster. you’d known it all too well.

“billie.” her tight lips turned upwards slightly, pleased with your greeting. after all, it had only been a few months since you’d broken things off with her. and somehow, you ended up missing her.

“babe, this is a surprise.” she never could remain serious, and you’d been grateful in the moment as it eased the awkwardness you’d been anticipating.

“yeah, i didn’t expect to see you here.” you were awfully bad at small talk, and she chuckled, likely recognising this.

“you make it sound like something bad?” she pouted dramatically and you couldn’t help smiling, blushing even.

“no, no it’s a good thing. it’s good to see you.” she bit her lip, as if pondering on a comical response.

“oh yeah? how good?” she smirked and your breath hitched.

“stop it.” you looked away from her but she reached for your face and pulled your chin up, to meet her eyes again. those fucking eyes.

“stop what?” she was grinning, a smile so wicked it made your insides burn.

“we tried, we don’t work.” your rational thoughts finally made an appearance with your confrontation.

“that’s where you’re so wrong.” her face was dangerously close to yours. her lips almost brushing yours.

“billie.” you tried to interrupt her actions, you were obviously heading in a direction you’d find difficult to navigate out of.

“shh.” she pressed her finger up to your lips, her ring resting against the skin of your chin before it disappeared, and her lips were on yours. her hips pressing against yours as the cool metal of her rings returned, resting on your neck this time.

“bil-” she didn’t let you pull away, wouldn’t let you speak. and when her hands traveled down to your ass, and her tongue met your own, you snapped back into reality.

“billie.” you were breathing heavily.

“what?” you were shaking your head, backing away from her.

“i can’t do this again.” her brows let their furrowed state and she moved to place her hands back on your figure, gently.

“sure you can. we can do it right this time.” her words were so promising you almost fell for them. but you didn’t reply, just escaping her grasp and turning away.

“where do you think you’re going, baby?” the term of endearment stung, an unpleasant twinge in your heart you couldn’t quite place.

“call me.” her smirk, dripping with confidence, aggravated you in a way no one else could. she’d leave you thinking about her for days to come, and she knew it. you could still feel her on your lips.

“maybe.” her eyebrows raised at your response, but you didn’t stay to hear her, no doubt, witty response.

taglist: @adinda-eilish @ijustlovemaths @sweetcherriexs @jaxon-nathaniel-drake @mybluebossanova @diceroll65 @tothediner @st0nerlesb0 @bilssturns @london-uhmye @bxllxebxtch @tan1shere @babybornbluenow @greenbttrflyy @asterisk-eyes

[mymadmedleyw]

As someone who was harshly harassed due to trying to communicate someone's problematic opinion about an issue they were showing... yes!

For a little context, that person criticized and labelled sick if someone wrote or read about a certain ship (in a fandom where that particular ship has huge audience). I was in a bad mood that day and thought questioning them would make them backpedal or reconsider their message and deliver it better. Well, I was wrong. After hard months, I managed to let the awful feeling go away that lingered long on me after their message - letting go of my frequent suicidal ideations as well. Still, I'm on the side of fiction=/=real.

What happened, you may ask? I asked them (politely) what if someone suffered something in real life, and turning to fiction (which is safe) to heal is a way. They still said that the victim (they do not use, of course, the word 'victim' because that would have been admitting that the person was a victim...) was sick regardless because reading/writing about topics that are 'unhealthy'. And something was seriously wrong with this person - read as, no matter if you were the victim once, being a victim and trying to get over you experiences makes you a disgusting human being...

As someone who tends to read any fiction when I'm in the mood, including ships or gore, it doesn't tell what kind of person I am. It doesn't tell you that I'm kind, shy and supportive. My brain doesn't belong to your prejudiced assumptions. My trauma doesn't make me 'sick'. Believe me, I wish I hadn't survived certain things in my life, I wish I hadn't been assaulted when I was a young teen by a family member, I wish my other family member hadn't been brutally murdered almost the same time, and I wish it hadn't been detailed on family gathering as gossip for years at the adult table... I wish I didn't have the background I have, but I do. Did I have a word about anything? No. Did it make me 'sick'? No.

I 'just' read fiction—stories, words that are not real.

My life was not my choice. My traumas were not my choice. My healing is my choice. And it is your choice to avoid something (that you can choose to avoid!) you wouldn't like. In fiction, it is a click to close a page, but harassment could lead people to re-live their traumas when questioning them. Victim blaming does more harm than the existence of fics. If you do want to express your opinion about what is right and what is wrong in life, help! Look around and help people! Raise your voice in the outside world and fight for the right there; fight there what bothers you because, believe me, that action would actually help and lead to change rather than harming and attacking people online and going against innocents because you are blindsided.

Final thought: everyone has the right to have their reading/writing habit, love or despise something, but no one has the right to harass people for it. Thank you.

This just in

[halfbaked00q]

Im soooo weak to when Bond is like casually being used or exploited at his expense for some ostensible Greater Good except the situation doesn't HAVE to come to that, not really, and he's so inured and even numb to it that he barely pays it any mind; meanwhile, Q absolutely minds and is very indignant on his behalf and works overtime to like either try to avert or forestall the situation before it gets to the point where Bond has to dig his own claws into more of his soft underbelly to offer up on the sacrificial alter of politics of all tawdry things, or to manufacture a way in which he does the needless "needful" so as to spare Bond at least one unnecessary additional wound upon his psyche.

bonus if Bond finds out and maybe after being angry or indignant about it - I don't need you to do my job for me, Q, this is what I'm here to do - and either Q tells him/lets slip or he deduces that like, this isn't Q thinking he can't get the job done, this is Q finding him precious and worthy of protecting, and like. he's just very in awe of that and does in fact feel very safe and cherished within the cradle of his Quartermaster's regard

[aventurineswife]

Hello earthian!! Can I request where aventurine, ratio, and whatever characters u wanna add with their kid begging for a sibling. This idea occupied my mind for days^^

“I want a sibling!”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Fluff, Humor, Established Relationship, Parenting, Suggestive Themes, Family Dynamics, Light Angst(?), Playful Banter.

Warnings: Mildly Suggestive Content (Implied intimacy), Parent-Child Discussion of Siblings (Handled in a light and humorous tone), Reader Embarrassment, Mentions of Childhood Loneliness (in the context of the child wanting a sibling), Reader is referred to as 'Renny' as a gender-neutral term for mom or dad.

The soft clink of bracelets echoed in the room as Aventurine leaned against the edge of the grandiose dining table, his signature smile curving on his lips. His eyes sparkled as he watched your child, a spirited seven-year-old with eyes like his, puff out their chest in determination.

“Papa,” the child declared, stomping a tiny foot for emphasis, “I want a sibling! Someone to play cards with me—and win! Renny's too busy, and you always say you’re unbeatable!”

You nearly choked on your tea, coughing violently as heat flushed to your face. “W-Well, sweetie,” you stammered, setting down your cup, “it’s not… it’s not that simple!”

Aventurine’s grin widened as he crouched to your child’s eye level. “Oh, is that so?” he purred, a teasing lilt in his voice. “You’re requesting an addition to our little family? Quite the gamble, don’t you think?”

The child’s eyes sparkled. “I’m serious, Papa! You said you’re good at making plans. Make a sibling plan!”

You buried your face in your hands, muttering, “I’m going to die of embarrassment.”

Aventurine chuckled and ruffled the child’s hair. “Alright, little one. I’ll talk to your parent about… the logistics.”

The child beamed, clapping their hands before darting off, presumably to draw up a “sibling plan” themselves.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Aventurine rose, striding over to you with that infuriatingly charming smirk. “Logistics, hmm?” he murmured, his hands finding your waist.

“Don’t you dare,” you warned, though your voice lacked conviction.

“Oh, but I think it’s worth discussing,” he whispered, leaning close until his lips brushed your ear. “After all, I am very good at planning... and execution.”

You swatted at his chest, your face burning hotter than the Sigonian desert. “You’re impossible!”

“And yet,” he teased, pulling you closer, “you still can’t resist me.”

The evening was calm in Ratio’s study, the golden hues of a setting sun casting a warm glow over the shelves lined with books and artifacts. You were seated comfortably in an armchair, flipping through a datapad, while Ratio scribbled something in his journal, his violet hair catching the light.

Your child burst in, their eyes filled with excitement. “Daddy! Renny!” they called, rushing over to Ratio’s desk.

Ratio set down his pen, tilting his head curiously. “Yes, little scholar?”

“I want a sibling,” the child announced, planting their hands firmly on the desk. “It’s boring being an only kid. Everyone else at school has brothers or sisters!”

You blinked, stunned by their bluntness. “Oh… well… that’s…”

Ratio leaned back in his chair, one hand thoughtfully stroking his chin. “Interesting proposition,” he mused, his tone as serious as if the child had asked him to solve a mathematical theorem. “Have you considered the variables involved?”

The child frowned. “What’s a variable?”

“Time, energy, resources,” Ratio said, ticking off on his fingers. “And, most importantly, whether your parent and I agree to the hypothesis.”

Your face turned scarlet. “Veritas!”

He smirked slightly, meeting your gaze. “Am I wrong?”

The child tilted their head, clearly not grasping the layers of meaning in his words. “So… does that mean yes?”

Ratio chuckled, patting the child’s head. “It means your parent and I need to conduct… further discussions. Why don’t you go revise your spelling words while we deliberate?”

With a satisfied nod, the child ran off, leaving the study in blissful silence.

You crossed your arms, glaring at your husband. “Further discussions? Really?”

Ratio stood, his hair falling into his eyes as he approached you with a teasing smirk. “I see no flaws in their logic,” he said, leaning close enough that you could see the gold flecks in his eyes. “Perhaps we should test their hypothesis.”

You groaned, covering your face. “I can’t believe you’re entertaining this.”

“I’m merely responding to a valid inquiry,” he replied smoothly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His voice dipped lower, sending a shiver down your spine. “But… I admit, I’m curious to see how this experiment might unfold.”

Your protest died in your throat as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing yours.

“Veritas…” you murmured, half-exasperated, half-enchanted.

He pulled back slightly, his smirk deepening. “Shall we begin our research?”

[millionthcephalophore]

Okay. A few things here. This is still bad! Buuuuut I would encourage people to read some full articles and get some context on Torres’ work to see exactly HOW these missteps could be justified and why they may have happened.

Portrait of Ross in LA is by farrrr Torres’ most famous candy portrait but it is not the only one! Plenty of them are frequently displayed in a line like the Smithsonian’s installation, is that less effective? Maybe. But it’s not out of line with his work. Nor is the plaques listing of an “ideal weight” or the exhibition’s listed concerns.

Gonzalez-Torres made a lot of work about AIDS and he made it exceptionally well. However, it was not his only artistic concern. This exhibition focuses on his innovations in portraiture and his lateral thinking about the genre. It would be absolutely disingenuous and sinister for the exhibit not to mention AIDS, but if I’m going to be a little honest I don’t have a problem with an exhibition placing its focus elsewhere. He was a brilliant artist and deserves recognition for all of his ideas, not just those related to his suffering.

The work is displayed and plaqued in a way that’s consistent with his other work and doesn’t go against the works’ certificate (basically it’s artist-stipulated display instructions). So from a curatorial standpoint it IS the same piece.

According to the curators a separate piece of wall text near the piece DOES further contextualize it reading, in part, “Gonzalez-Torres cared for his partner Ross Laycock, named in the candy work’s title, who died from HIV/AIDS in 1991. So there are some mentions of AIDS throughout the exhibit. I still think that this is not enough contextualization, but again, I see how it happened.

The display’s main problem is that its supremely fucking out of touch.

Portrait of Ross in LA means something to people, its more than just a portrait its a symbol, its a memorial, its grown past the artist and become something for an entire community that has frequently been robbed of the ability to openly mourn. I’ve gotten the privilege of seeing it in person a few times and it commands a reverence like nothing else I’ve ever seen. I keep the wrappers from my visit just to remind myself of that experience of twisting brilliant inadequate grief that it evoked in me. I keep the wrappers because it felt morally wrong to throw them away.

You have to treat Portrait of Ross in LA with fucking respect.

The conditions for respect have already been outlined, like several articles point out, we’ve already been here. The Art Institute did basically the same thing a few years ago and it was made clear by public outcry that caring for this piece and its significance means including a proper wall label. Its being respected by museum goers not already familiar with the piece is contingent on that wall label, people are less likely to read the other wall text.

SO. All in all I think that the curatorial decisions made here were pretty standard and I’d need to actually see the exhibit to make a ruling on their potential erasure of AIDS and Gonzalez-Torres’ sexuality within the exhibit as a whole. BUT the display also shows an ignorance of the work’s significance and a disregard for prior discourse/ meaning making surrounding it. It feels a bit like a slap in the face.

Anyways here’s another article with some more comments made by the curators if anyone wants more context:

https://www.artnews.com/art-news/news/felix-gonzalez-torres-national-portrait-gallery-untitled-portrait-of-ross-in-la-controversy-1234731113/

the david zwirner gallery and the felix gonzalez torres foundation in the smithsonian removed the descriptive plaque for portrait of ross in la by felix gonzalez-torres. the old plaque explained portrait for ross' origins as the artist's partner's aids related death, and replaced it with a plaque with absolutely no information about the piece itself, who ross was, or who gonzalez-torres was either. portrait of ross was also reeranged to lay on the floor long ways instead of in a pile as it typically is situated, and the plaque outside the exhibition FOR GONZALEZ-TORRES omits his sexuality, as well as his aids related death. i'm in utter disbelief

[lukazade]

Your honour.... your honour please it's raining... it's raining.. let them have a little romance...... come on your honour please.....

Snippet of the fic you're never going to see (but that this art is based on) below!

It's just a fluff piece, timkon, nothing exciting happens, you lack the context. They're just making up after an argument. Oh also it's a bit cringe. But if you've read any of my writing (it's not often, but it's on the page here and there) you'll know I'm very cringe.. 😔

After he's showered, Tim comes to sit with him on the bed, the air of the van still a bit too quiet. Things got too heated, even the unrelenting downpour couldn't douse them. Tim's hand sets upon Kon's, tentative, and Kon doesn't push him aside. After all, on the way back, they both realised it was a pretty stupid argument. But then again, weren't they always. "Sorry I rushed you." Tim's voice is a sigh, barely audible over the rain against the window. "I'll make it up to you, I'm the reason things went wrong today." Of course he's blaming himself, Kon thinks; that's their favourite couple's activity. He gives Tim a strained smile, fighting the urge to begin another circle of no, it was my fault more, and get them into another argument. They're both too stubborn - it'd help more to do something productive now that they both feel more inclined to listen and apologise. So instead of that, he takes the towel from Tim's shoulders, lifting it to his still-soaked hair, gently rubbing the water from it. He could use TTK, to dry them both immediately, but Tim likes this sort of thing. He acts like he could live without it, but Kon really doesn't think he could. And, just as expected, Tim's shoulders steadily deflate. Kon feels his own do the same, relieved. "I wasn't mad, Tim. I just get overwhelmed sometimes- you know that- and I don't think things through very well once I'm in that zone. I just mean, well, I don't mean to-" "I can't believe you're stealing my lines." Tim cuts him off, with a small, sorry face. "You don't need to overexplain. I really am sorry." "Me, too." He nods. "And I think I was just mad because it's rained for a week straight, actually. No sun makes me cranky." He offers a cheeky grin. "You're annoying, but not that bad." Tim rolls his eyes, and leans just a touch forward. "You're an idiot." Kon doesn't really want to take the bait, but how can he avoid it if Tim adores cliché? "I'm your idiot." Tim brushes a hand up his arm, the room feeling warm and cosy again. "And if it wasn't the sun's fault that you got upset, I-" "Tim." "What?" He snorts. He can never just accept Kon's easy outs, can he? "Fine, fine. I'm--" He stops himself before he says he's sorry again, flushing. Kon tries not to laugh.

[setmeatopthepyre]

🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧🐧

this took a little while, but I knew I wanted to write this scene especially for you and needed a little time to think about how to approach it. so here's a whole bunch of antarct-fic, just for you! this uh. got a little long.

-

It takes some time for Buck to get settled in, find his way around, discover the Skype stations, figure out the difference in timezones between Los Angeles and New Zealand-slash-McMurdo, and find a moment when the Skype stations aren't all occupied that also works for Maddie and Chim – but he gets there.

“-And so Brooke's walking in ahead of me, right? And she freezes -- No, Chim, not literally, haha, very funny – and she marches right up to Bucky, and keep in mind, Brooke is like, 5 foot, max, and Bucky is at least a foot taller – and she demands to know where Larry went. And that's when the rest of us realize, holy shit, Larry is gone. Just. Gone. Not a trace.”

Maddie and Chim are on screen, staring at him like they're expecting a punchline, and Buck realizes he may have skipped over a little bit of necessary context.

“Right, so, Bucky was the only one in the kitchen, because he was just there to get some of the baking prepared and to jump in if any of the people coming off night shift needed anything--”

“Wait, so this kitchen has a Bucky and a Buck?” Chimney asks, balancing a squirmy Jee on his knee. Maddie raises her eyebrows at him, like she had other questions, but--

“Oh! Yeah. Right, so. I'm Evan.”

Maddie squints at him. “We know you are.”

“At the station. Uh. This station. At McMurdo – or Mactown, as Katie calls it, but really, there's so many nicknames –uh. I'm Evan. Here. Because there were already a few Bucks, and, well, a Bucky. One of the Bucks also works in the galley, which is already confusing enough with a Bucky right there, you know? So I'm just. Just Evan, here.” He frowns a little, wondering if any of that made any sense. Or maybe the connection just froze up again?

“Wow,” Maddie says slowly, carefully. “How do you... feel about that?”

He takes a second to think about it. “It's... a little weird. But not in a bad way? It's kind of... nice. Like-- like I'm a new person? I know that's probably dumb--”

“No, Buck, that's not dumb,” Maddie says quickly, and she's smiling, and Chim's expression has softened as well, matching Maddie's. It makes warmth spread in Buck's chest, though it's followed closely by something achy settling in his stomach.

“I miss you,” he confesses.

Maddie's eyes are a little wet. “We miss you too. And Jee misses her uncle Buck. Or- should we say uncle Evan?”

Buck huffs a laugh, and that heaviness dissipates, at least a little bit. “No, no, uncle Buck is-- that's good. I'm still getting used to people I don't know calling me Evan. So.”

“Buck it is,” Maddie smiles, and he can feel her warm affection even across the continents between them.

“Well this is a beautiful little moment,” Chimney says, aiming for teasing but failing miserably due to how his whole face is crinkled into a smile. “But back to the story, uncle Buck," and Jee-yun echoes Uncle Buck!, slightly muffled, from somewhere just out of frame. Her pink-legginged legs kick into view a second later, just barely missing Maddie's face.

Buck takes a minute to enjoy the happy little family wrestling on his screen. That ache is back. He's fairly sure it's homesickness, and isn't it weird that he isn't sure he's ever really felt that before? He's missed the vague concept of home before – usually in the form of Maddie, when she was back in Boston – but never really in this way, where he can point to a place on a map where his people, his family are, and miss them.

Well, most of his people.

One of them is right here where Buck is. If he still wants to be. His people, that is. His person.

He clears his throat. “Right. So. Uh. Where was I?”

“You were talking about someone who went missing?” Maddie prompts.

“Uh. Right! Yes. Larry. So Brooke, obviously, immediately assumed Bucky had something to do with it--”

“Wait, I'm confused,” Maddie interjects straight away. “If Bucky was the only one who was supposed to be in the kitchen, how did Brooke know Larry was missing?”

“Oh, good point, detective,” Chimney says, then winces when Jee lets out a loud squeal right next to his ear. Maddie grimaces in sympathy at the same time Buck does.

“Oh, because Larry is always in the kitchen,” Buck explains.

“Always? How?” Chim asks, looking seriously at the screen while Jee giggles and squirms in his lap, one of Chim's hands clasped over her mouth. He raises his hands in dramatic mock surrender when she starts snapping her teeth at him.

“Didn't I say?” Buck frowns. “Larry's our mascot.”

Maddie sputters. “Larry's not a person?”

“No? One of the overwinters a couple of years ago made him out of the cutlery that got chewed up in the dishwasher, and the galley crew just... keeps adding to him.”

“You're telling me you have some sort of... cutlery homunculus named Larry watching over your kitchen?”

“Well, not anymore," Buck points out. "That's the problem. He's gone.”

There's a silence in which both Maddie and Chimney take a second to process this new information, and then Chim's getting up to fix Jee a snack and get her set up with some coloring sheets, and Maddie tells him about her latest check-up and how everything is still looking good with the pregnancy, and that they're debating if they want to know the gender ahead of time or not. It isn't until a little later, when Chimney comes back into view and Buck is fairly sure he's maxing out his time at the Skype station, that Maddie broaches the subject he'd kind of been hoping he'd gotten away with avoiding.

“So, while learning about your-- uh, Larry? – is fun, what we really want to know is... how did things go with Tommy?” She's smiling kindly, being gentle about it, so very Maddie, but Buck's leg is shaking enough to make the screen move a little and he needs to consciously force his jitters to a halt.

“Uh. It hasn't. Yet?”

“What do you mean?” Chimney asks, offering Maddie a slice of apple with peanut butter. Apparently Jee isn't the only one who got snacks.

“We haven't really talked yet,” Buck admits.

“Okay, so you haven't talked-talked yet. But how did he react?”

Buck shifts in his seat. “React when?”

“How did he react when he saw--” Chimney stops mid-word and mid-chew. “Now wait a second, Buckley. Tommy hasn't seen you yet, has he?”

And fine, maybe Buck bristles a bit. “Well, it's not like--”

Maddie interrupts him, momentarily saving him from having to think up some flimsy defense on the spot. “Hold on, you've been there a week, and... Buck, does Tommy even know you're there?”

Buck dips his head, wonders if he can fake connection issues, but he knows the guilt of cutting their call short would probably eat him alive. “Maybe,” he mumbles instead. “I don't know. Probably not?”

Honestly, Buck thinks, the news that Larry got kidnapped – cutlerynapped? homunculusnapped? – should be way more shocking than the fact that, okay, maybe he has been avoiding Tommy just a little bit. Just until he, you know, figures out what to do, what to say. But Maddie and Chim are gaping at him as if he's just admitted he's decided to move in with the nearest penguin colony and leave his human life behind.

It's almost a relief, then, when a woman taps him on the shoulder and asks him if he's okay to wrap up soon so she can talk to her husband before he has to leave for his night shift. Buck wraps up their call, promising pictures of penguins for Jee as soon as possible, no time to explain that he needs to follow some sort of training before he's allowed off-base, but he can tell them about that next time. Whenever that next time is.

That achy feeling lingers, even after he hangs up.

-

[make me write]

[elkiwifuckedyourmom]

not putting it in the notes since its a long one.

▪︎Caused a gas leak at school twice in the span of 2 hours in the last day of school.

(for context my school doesn't have halls, its all open aired. its uncommon to have closed schools in mexico)

i wanted to make pancakes for a convivio with a mini gas stove i brought to school and i thought "hey can't i just hook this bad boy up to one of the gas pipes inside the lab" (mind you the lab we had was a 3 out of 10 at best, no security nor safe equipment).

so i connected the tube to the stove and just hoped for the best, around a minute or so i began to smell the scent of gas in a direction that wasn't where i was with my mini stove, not in the 'oh its filling up' but of a 'uh oh gas leak', i inmediatly close the hatch and began investigating.

and thats when i saw my principal passing by and pointing me to her office. she inmediatly began questioning me as to what the hell i was doing, my answer in short "pancakes"; she sent me right back to my classroom and suprisingly didn't tell my teacher where i was.

around an hour or so passed until i was "screw this i want my pancakes" and just sneaked my way to the lab, unfortunatly for me it was in use but the teacher let me in for the exchange of some pancakes. same thing goes and now i have a classroom full of 13 year olds watching me in both pity and embarrasment as how i could possibly mess up a simple connection and causing yet another gas leak.

so before i got caught by my principle again or the teacher ratting me out, i grabbed my mini stove and booked it behind the lab mainly because there was where all the pipes and stuff was and also because i didn't wanted to get caught.

i got there and began to sniff out where the strongest gas scent was, and to my upmost surprise the pipes responsable were in such bad condition that it was a miracle the school hadn't gotten reported for this, I'm talking about rusted, only being put together by worn down masking tape, gnawed down by rats kind of bad.

honestly at the time i was insulted that they thought i was the reason for the leak.

anyway, in comes the teacher that was in the lab, an angry janitor (handyman? idk), and a very pissed off principal. she inmediatly began scolding me and all i did was point at the pipes, she saw them and just wiped her head to the janitor who had the color drained from his face.

taking advantage of the situation i just left with the stove, the rest of the day i didnt get called again by the principal.

i still wanted my pancakes.

what's the most demented thing you guys got in trouble for in school mine was when an english boy in my class made fun of my name and called my mum a (derogatory word for irish travellers) so i told him my ira uncle was in town and was coming to blow him up after school

[gamorahww]

𝐅𝐈𝐘𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐘 ━ 𝑑𝑎𝑦 2. 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑟 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔

Today I'm holding space for the idea that in the context of the movie, dancing is a coping mechanism for Fiyero. While caring is a cure and a solution and an answer. I mean it is nothing new, but it needs to be said.

There will be a separate post on Dancing Through Life later today, but for now, we're starting from later. At history class, Fiyero voluntarily steps up to help the lion cub, and they make it all the way to the forest. Shortly after they are safe, and start talking, Elphaba says, "I know my life would be much easier if I didn't care, but—" and Fiyero cuts her off at exactly this point in her sentence. And I think that moment is crucial. Up until now, he’s never interrupted her before—but now he does and not because he’s frustrated with how much she talks, but because of what she’s saying. He doesn’t want to hear her talk about caring. That’s a pain point for him.

Because he knows it’s easier not to care. That’s the story he tells himself.

The lyrics in Dancing Through Life go: "Why think too hard when it's so soothing?" Soothing what? You don’t need to soothe something that doesn’t hurt. Soothing is only necessary when there’s an ache. To me this means he has cared before, and he has been hurt by caring before, and now he's coping with that by dancing through life. He is soothing his pain from secretly caring just too much, by dancing. Not because he doesn't care anymore about anything, but because he can't stop doing it, so he has to keep dancing. Dancing is loud, and visible. If he dances, people don't ask questions about his personality about what he thinks or how he feels. Maybe they haven't been doing it anyway, so he distracts them by doing his little dance, and as soon as they get too close, he pushes them away. But what he believes to be true for now is that caring = painful and dancing = a way to cope with that pain

But Elphaba just saw him care—deeply. She knows he’s capable of it. And she knows how unbearably sad it must be to choose to pretend otherwise. At the same time, she also understands how painful caring can be, she just highlighted is. In that moment, they find common ground.

But Fiyero’s façade—his carefree persona—is what he assumes people value in him most. So the second he realizes Elphaba doesn’t see him that way, he panics. He thinks that if she can see through him, it means she doesn’t want him there. No one has ever appreciated him for anything beyond the image he projects. So if that mask is gone… what’s left? Why would she still want him around, if he's not fun and happy and carefree? So he starts to leave.

And then she proves him wrong.

Not only does she say "she does (want his help)," but she physically holds onto him, keeping him there. The shock on his face (second gif from the bottom) says everything—he never expected someone to want him without the act. And later, when she touches his face so gently, you can see him struggling to process it. This is the most vulnerable he’s ever been, and it terrifies him. Not only that, but Elphaba sees a scar on his face, and sees that he has been hurt, without him noticing it. She reaches out and touches him gently, not really wanting anything, and he just can't bear it.

Her caring for him is not painful, it's soothing.

His Freudian slip a few beats later—"I better get to safety."—isn’t just about physical danger. This doesn’t feel safe. Being seen, being wanted for real, is the opposite of what he’s used to. Caring and being cared for are equally scary, but only the latter seems like a completely new experience for him. However, after feeling it, he finds something so real that he just yearns for it from now on. Yearns to be seen and touched and to be needed for something he did instinctively, without a thought, something he did because it felt right.

That’s why the later scene with Glinda is so important. When she holds his hand, the shot mirrors the moment with Elphaba—but with one key difference. Glinda is pulling him away, back into the world of pretense. But he can’t go back, not after this, and you can see him looking back at where he came from, back to the forest, back to Elphaba, back to being seen. For once, caring was not painful, and someone cared for him as well.

[firelxdykatara]

I think part of what frustrates me about age gap discourse with respect to BTVS specifically is that framing Buffy's relationship with Angel as 'grown man preys on teenage girl' requires that you ignore everything about the context of the show, the context that their relationship occurs within, and also what it means for both of them as characters and for the show as a whole.

It's also just like, really boring?

Like before you get to any of the story reasons why that's just a stupidly reductive analytical framework, you have to start with this: in a story aimed at teenagers, the fantasy is of being special and desired by a sexy immortal, and because the story is aimed at teenagers, the main characters are (or start as) teenagers, since the coming of age narrative that underpins everything else doesn't work without it. Hard to tackle that transition from adolescence to adulthood with a main character who begins the series as an adult!

(And it's not as if coming of age stories for adults don't exist. Phoebe Halliwell is a very good example--unlike her older sisters, she starts off unemployed and kind of adrift and desperate to find a purpose, which she ultimately does as a witch and a Charmed One, and all of this is done while she, as the youngest, is in her early twenties at the series start, because the show is primarily aimed at adults.)

And the thing is, Angel isn't just some adult man preying on a highschooler for kicks because he can't find women his own age. As Angelus, he spent well over a century enamored with Darla and committing wanton slaughter and destruction by her side. As Angel, with the exception of Buffy, all of his love interests are adults, and his love for Buffy is not tied to her youth, innocence, or naivete, considering that it links and binds them so completely that they keep crossing in and out of each other's lives through the end of Buffy's show, with the door explicitly open for a future relationship once Buffy's finished baking.

What draws Angel to Buffy--and what makes their relationship so dangerously compelling and also ultimately spells its downfall as, within the text of the show, it is explicitly a tragedy--is the fact that she's the Slayer.

That's the key point--her status as the Chosen One! He is drawn to her (as all vampires are, to a greater or lesser extent, but it's no accident that her only other truly earth shattering romantic relationship in the series is with another vampire) because she's the Slayer, and because of the soul he was cursed to bear and the guilt he feels for the evil he committed as a vampire, he wants to protect and save her as part of his atonement. He falls in love with her because she brings light back into the darkness he has been cast into since being forced to bear a soul even as a monster. And he would be 241 years old whether he was turned as a teenager and could pass as one of her peers or turned at 26 (the show is inconsistent on the age at which he was turned and it really doesn't matter, since the buffyverse never tries to pretend vampires are 'frozen' at the age they're turned anyway), and yes, part of what is darkly compelling about their relationship is that the age difference is obvious (Sarah Michelle Gellar was 20 and David Boreanaz was 28 during season 1), but the reason Angel being an 'older man' is never considered super relevant (aside from a few lampshades) is because... it really isn't.

The important thing, the critical thing, the thing that matters in the context of their relationship is that Angel is a vampire. That's why when Angel pulls out his 'I'm 241, you're 16' spiel it rings so hollow--because that doesn't really matter to either of them and he knows it. He's trying to push her away because it's the only way he can really protect her, and even then it doesn't work, and they all suffer for it horribly, Buffy most of all. (And even then she can't stop loving him, nor he her, and that makes it all the more tragic when he realizes the only thing he can do for her is leave.)

Also, it really throws into sharp relief the fact that people care so much about Buffy being a teenage girl when it comes to her romantic relationships but not at all when it comes to her being fated to die. Something the show itself is also quite critical of, because that's part of the point--being the Slayer is an awful burden that none of them have ever had a choice but to bear, and Buffy was supposed to die at sixteen years old. The only reason she survives is because she broke the rules by trying to have a normal life in addition to being the Slayer, which is the only reason she has friends to help her and save her, and I'm supposed to look at all of that and care that her broody vampire bf was a 'grown man' when he was turned? Really?

I don't think so. You can't just be willing to take what the show says for itself at face value when it comes to all the fighting and killing and dying but then balk when it comes to sex. That just doesn't work for me. (I mean, you can, and a lot of people do, but it's frustrating, hence this post.)

[king571]

Screaming into the void of Tumblr again since a few brain dead posts slipped into my feed yesterday.

Caitlyn is not a domestic abuser for hitting Vi. Just like how Vi is not one for hitting Powder.

Given the context of this story and where these characters are at mentally, any professional would have explained that to you. Abusive relationships have clear patterns, but your minds are too focused on your own feelings and biases that you keep trying to demonize her character to justify your own hate. You refuse to see her as anything but a human being because of her background and status. Its amazing how you have a filter tag for who deserves basic empathy and understanding and who does not. Its honestly sad for you.

What is really happening in that scene is Caitlyn is completely overwhelmed by her emotions and is unbalanced. On top of all the trauma Jinx has put her through in season 1, she watched her mother die in front of her, and she is blaming herself. She is angry because she is devastated over her mom, but she hasnt been able to grieve healthily and properly. She is trying to stand tall and take the weight of the crown she has rejected her whole life. The memorial attack, where she can feel and honor her mom, gets violently attacked. And thats her tipping point.

She is desperately trying to hold on to the one person she cares for and trusts as support and thats Vi aka her mom's murderer's sister. It sounds absurd when you say it out loud. The moment she is stopped by Vi again, she feels a visceral sense of betrayal. The reasons do not matter for someone in that mental state at the time. It is simply wrong to expect humans to react rationally in these emotionally dense situations. She does not attack Vi or try to take control of her; she simply wants to leave. Then she freaking gets stopped and is compared to her mom's murderer. It doesnt matter that Vi has good intentions, that is the biggest insult and kick you can give her at that moment. She simply doesn't want to stay with her, to be held by her. And that's valid. She completely loses herself in her anger and responds physically by hitting her. It does not matter that it is the wrong thing to do because realistically, this is a very possible and expected human response. I seriously feel like I am trying to explain Psychology 101 to some people. Seperate your own feelings from the show for once and see the narrative.

And stop twisting the truth of this character. Stop mislabeling her and accusing her with definitions that do not fit her story to satisfy your own negative emotions.

If you were in Caitlyn's position, given these childish reactions I bet a lot of you would not have the control, consciousness, and moral backbone that she has in this story. She is literally one of the strongest characters in the show. Honestly, Jinx has always been my favorite character, but you all are turning me into a die hard Caitlyn defender around here.

[from-the-owls-nest]

mhm. what if you're too broken, in too tiny pieces, even the base too shattered to rebuild from. what if there's too little good left.

*swallow* that... that probably wasn't the most helpful answer. but I know what you mean. and I don't really have a fix or anything.

*drily, like, ironically* should probably clarify that the you in that first sentence meant me and just me. so. before you get any more ideas. because of course for Me that's Different! At least for my chaos brain tangles.

[ooc: Philosophy Below. idk brain ran away with thoughts call me if u find it /silly]

*silence, thinking over the words again* I don't know. All I can hope is that - that sentence from the movie Aria likes. When we can see no future, all we can do is the next right thing. the next little ray of sunlight. the next little moment of peace.

And if none of that is possible... Wait, and hold on, and look for them, and hope they come back soon. This is just my thoughts - my little agreement with myself. I gotta try the best I can, even if the best I can is a break from trying to recover. And then I'll know that Past Me did their best for me now and that I owe it to Future me to do my best for what they might become. Even if they weren't very successful. Like deciding that however I am right now is me too, and so I am all these things and parts, the good and the rough ones, and they all together make the full me. It's these nice little shortcut across the self blaming and infighting that take a long time to work out but help wherever they hold.

But like. I think I owe it my future self to hold on, and to get through the storms. Our past selves have come such a long way, and who knows where we'll go next, what our future selves and lives might be like. So like. I do think that new paths open up all the time, possibilities. Even if the ones now are all bad, who knows where we can still go. And the only way to find out is to try, and to do our best.

*they pull out their diary, and from the front a little calendar page* Look. I... It's one of these pages I'll keep forever and ever because I need the reminder, and give to others when they might need it. I don't know if it's right. I hope so. and I think the only way to find out is to try and hold on.

For me that's enough. That, little hopes, little good moments, even just the memory of warmth and hope and the knowledge that all that was once can come again - in different forms, maybe, but it can. *turning to lay it next to Will's sneaker*

*more silence* But. Well. That's really big thoughts, and hard to see when everything is so dark. Hm. okay just to throw some thoughts out. You don't have to tell me, you don't have to think about it, just... some ideas. Little windows into that maybe, whenever you're able to look.

what do the voices say? can they maybe be talked to, or be both a little right?

is there anything you wish wouldn't stop? or come back? any little thing. ignore realism and context all that. if you were playing make-believe, your own little world, what would it look like? if you want to we can take turns. I play that game regularly cause, well, bad memory, and i probably should start again.

and... does it have to be a *bad* hurt? like. yes. you're different. stuff happened, and it changed you, and that really really hurt. you might not be the same person as before. is that a bad thing? or, you said nasty. sure. right now it's raw and painful and doesnt fit yet. but... could all these little shards grow back together and become something scarred and mended, and different?

I hope they could. I'd really miss you - not you from before, you however you are right now and however you want to be. Idk doesn't make much sense but - people if they change are still that person, right? just... changed, by a situation or because they got to know themselves better or whatever. Like Butterflies. I'd like to see the next chapter, with you if you want or just knowing there was one for you.

Image Credit @thelatestkate and her website

Love love love characters that present themselves as emotionally open social butterflies but the more you see of them the more obvious it is that they’re the most closed off fuckers in the story. Sure, they want to help you with your personal problems and messy emotions, but if you turn that shit back on them, they’ll shut down or deflect every time. Why are you sticking your nose in their business anyway? It’s not like it matters. They’re not a person, they’re just a role being played. They’re the guy who fixes things and saves people. Please ignore the man behind the mask, he’s fine. Everything’s fine.

[elleloquently]

i honestly don't even really like to talk about tlou2 but something that will absolutely baffle me until the end of time is how many people romanticize the farm sequence and view it as happy. every time someone says the game should've ended there or that ellie threw away her whole life and she could've been happy etc etc etc, it really makes me realize how many people do lack literacy and the ability to read between the lines. because how are you seeing the farm scenes and not realizing how devastating it is?? it feels so empty and lifeless.

yes ellie laughed and they listen to music and dance but those are such small snippets. anyone with severe ptsd / mental trauma can be okay for a moment. but ellie was quite literally killing herself on that farm and absolutely would've ended up dead by her own hand (which is not a crazy assumption to make it is quite literally context clues)

like she’s always been skinny and lean but she’s even more thin on the farm?? she literally says she doesn’t eat or sleep?? and the panic attacks that she has?

also when ellie says “i’m not like you dina” and dina instantly snaps back with “you think this is easy for me?” like no that’s not what is being insinuated at all, but the fact of the matter is that dina is still able to function and cope in healthy ways and ellie is not. and the fact that dina doesn’t understand that kinda kills me. also telling ellie to “prove it” when she tells dina that she loves her is so fucked considering everything.

she would’ve died! i will stand by this forever, ellie would not have lived much longer. (confirmed btw in directors commentary, ellie was severely suicidal at this point. so not sure how everyone views the farm as her happy point.)

i don’t think ellie had an obligation to suffer in silence for the sake of what dina wanted.

i don’t blame dina for leaving obviously, that was the best choice for her and i don’t blame ellie for going either!! i think their relationship is very doomed, it was quite literally built on years of miscommunication and it only continues as they’re together.

i don’t blame ellie for leaving the farm whatsoever, she did not “fumble dina,” she didn’t throw away her life, she was barely functioning in the first place. if the game ended with ellie on the farm and the last thing we saw of her was her trying to play house while knowing how much she was suffering, that would’ve been so damn depressing. her leaving may not be the “morally good” choice but it was necessary considering her own mental state.

i think it’s also so important to remember the way in which joel died. she’s not just grieving and dealing with survivors guilt, she’s also living with the brutality of what she experienced. watching the person she loved the most get brutally tortured/beaten to death while she was held down and begging for it to stop?? and you guys expect her to just move on and deal with it so she can keep living on this isolated farm and play happy family??

and it’s not like ellie was fine until tommy showed up. she was already on the edge. the evidence is in her behavior, her journal, the clues around her house (the whiskey glass at her bedside) and her literal mannerisms.

this is very messy and disorganized i just don’t understand how many people STILL oversimplify the farm stuff or act as though everything was happy and good. every time someone says that ellie owed it to dina to stay, i lose a year off of my life.

basically a ramble instead of a proper analysis/breakdown bc i’m trying to focus my energy elsewhere but hopefully it makes enough sense to be understood

[quantumfeat72]

i don't think siffrin in the assassiffrin au would be as open & excited about their favorite food, especially this close to their first time facing the king since they changed sides

but like. do yall ever think about how siffrin makes a face every time someone goes to touch him, even when he's trying not to, even when he actively wants to be touched, that makes isabeau go "right! touch aversion! i'll back off! sorry!!"

do you ever think about the physical evidence siffrin has that they were, at some point, loved - but without any memory of it, and without any context that would give meaning to it? do you ever wonder if bonnie is the first person they can remember hugging them, or making their favorite food? or to even know that it's a food they like, let alone their favorite?

do you think the malanga fritters would hit different, in a world where he was more aware what he'd lost? in a world where he'd been trying and failing for months to not get attached to his party? if he tasted those fritters and thought, "i don't remember being loved, but i remember what being loved feels like, and it feels like this!"

"these are the first people i can remember who have really, truly cared about me..."

"...and they're going to hate me in a few minutes"