#I’d almost rather they not engage with the culture at all rather than make a mockery of it. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rivetgoth · 1 year ago

Text

It feels weird to admit out loud but tbh I feel like I’ve completely outgrown “fandom” as a concept. I remember being an awkward lonely teenager who was super isolated from everyone else and fandoms were everythinggggg to me. I don’t hold any regret for that or view it as “cringe” or something, I made all of my online friends that way and some of those friends are people I’m still in contact with today and who were there for me during some of the darkest moments of my entire life, plus a huge portion of the practice I got writing and actually receiving feedback was fanfiction, it was definitely what made me become a confident enough writer to actually start sharing my works with people. I got into “kinning” and all that and just was super into fandoms, shipping, etc.

But nowadays I just feel so removed from it. Most importantly I feel like I reached a point where I felt like a lot of fanfiction culture was honestly holding me back as a writer. It became more dependent on writing a certain way or certain content to generate views and the more I started writing for myself rather than emphasizing popular ships or tropes the less attention my work got and I felt a lot of distaste for all the memes I’d see about how to get more views, about never finishing projects, never editing your work before posting, etc, when I was really pushing myself to try to turn out quality content. I switched over to entirely original fiction when I started realizing that the stories I wanted to tell could be told through my own characters and I could put the effort into actually crafting something of my own for myself that was original from the ground up and that felt way more exciting. Shipping for me was extremelyyyy a byproduct of being very lonely IRL. Both romantically and otherwise. It was like, a way for me to project my “ideal relationship” and envision a world where I basically was making up what I wanted a relationship to look like via the characters I was using as a stand-in for myself. Once I was actually forming complex deep human relationships in real life I actually realized I had a lot of toxic traits and unhealthy attachment of my own I had to work through and it changed my outlook a LOT on “shipping” and how I was going about it and just what a healthy relationship really looks like irl… And I also realized that a lot of the time the characters I was projecting onto were because I was insecure and didn’t really know myself (or even WANT to know myself), so I was putting more stock into comparing myself to these characters I liked and sort of viewing myself through that lens instead of confronting myself…

I still looooove many characters to death don’t get me wrong, and I totally have characters where I either 1. Super duper relate to them or 2. Think they are hot as fuck or 3. Think it’d be hot if they fucked another character. But it’s just not a world I engage with or have any interest in engaging with. I don’t think I’ve actually sat down and read a fanfiction in, like… god, almost a decade now probably. And is it way too mean to say I honestly just find the landscape of modern fandom extremely uninteresting and a bit juvenile? I’m not a huge fan of how much of what I see nowadays is about projecting onto characters rather than trying to come up with interesting new stories or concepts for them pertaining to the character themself. Like, you go through the tags and it’s just like… “omg this character is a he/they MCR fan with autism” and then you go to OP’s bio and they are a he/they MCR fan with autism 😭 & it’s like… just very deeply uninteresting to me to engage with media that way. I see people get called out for headcanoning a villainous character committing a heinous non-canon act as if it’s morally “wrong” and I think it’s because people are more interested in like, projecting onto characters than viewing them as unique entities, so saying “this villain is an abuser” is basically saying “YOU, fan of this character, are an abuser.” It’s weird and not very fun to me. Fanmixes are all music OP already knows and likes, nobody is making anything that feels particularly high effort (fan games, animations, etc) and those SAME DAMN “no line editing we upload at 3 am like men” posts that encourage lazy ass writing are STILL going around!! I just think so much of it feels low effort and I’m at a point in my life where I really desire effort, in my own work and in others’ work.

There’s just a lot of aspects of it I feel so removed from nowadays. I love weird sex and unbridled sexuality and fandom feels so sexless even though people talk all the time about being horny for XYZ characters and I can’t quite put my finger on why. Like even back in 2012 fandom “zomg my ovaries” type stuff felt more sexually charged. I think, and this is quite judgmental I know, it’s because a lot of the people who are immensely into fandom As A Lifestyle kind of substitute real life for these fantasy daydream versions and it’s in part because they are a bit emotionally immature and insecure IRL… and I say that because I was there at some point. Like, they aren’t actually confident enough in themselves to just own unrestrained sexual attraction so instead it’s all kinda milquetoast. Back when I was in fandoms all the time I hated myself too much to ever even make self-inserts. I was like, disgusted with the idea of picturing myself in situations. Once I was freed of that I felt way less interested in “shipping” unless there is REALLY GOOD sexual tension because ultimately if I think a character is hot I’m just like. Damn I wish I could fuck them & that’s really it. Then I just like jerk off and move on but even then I find it more titillating to jerk off to real people than someone fictional 😭 Plus I think a lot of fandom ppl have an issue that I’ve talked about before, which is making interest-based friends that they never attempt to develop a deeper connection to beyond their interests, so the moment one of you stops being as obsessed with something the friendship ends. And I’m just not really interested in that kinda dynamic, especially with total strangers online.

Uh idk. Sorry to be a normie but I think at this point I’m just so much more interested in real people first ov all, because I go out like multiple times a week and am surrounded by so many strange interesting characters and I’m just so much more interested in THEM, and the chance to actually get close to them, than any characters that don’t exist. With cool people in real life you can actually work to be closer to them and get to know them! And when it comes to characters that don’t exist, I’m way more interested in crafting my OWN and developing my own worlds and stories for myself. And I’m just interested in the story of my own life and improving myself and making myself cooler and more interesting rather than getting caught up putting that time and energy into someone else’s creation. I also think I just don’t really vibe with fandom culture around the types of things that get popular, from art styles to character interpretations to the way cliques manifest in places like Discord or whatever. And I haaaaaate the fact that it feels like every fandom in the world just has the most inane pointless drama, people like coming for each other over what characters they like or what headcanons they have, terms like proship or antiship meaning literally nothing of value because they change definition every single time I see someone new use them, really weird fetishism that continues to go unchecked of nonwhite people and LGBT people and the like… it’s just like. Not fun to me.

But like. Idk. I don’t mean to sound like a judgmental ass and make sweeping statements about every single fandom person and every single fandom or try to just sound way more morally or intellectually superior or something. But it’s kinda interesting I guess to realize how far from that culture I am at this point in my life. I just can’t imagine spending really any time or energy focusing on fictional characters invented by other people and projecting onto them rather than just confronting myself and my life directly and making things that are original manifestations of my soul and my desires and my own rich inner world. Huh.

15 notes · View notes

ratherembarrassing · 2 years ago

Note

please know i'm asking this as genuinely curious- how can you hate on hogwarts legacy and therefore side with those against playing it/buying it but pay money to see lea on broadway?

i’ll give you the benefit of the doubt that the question is genuine but please know i snorted pretty hard at how much i saw something like this question coming.

and i’d start with a question: you know cancel culture is both bullshit and not real, right? because if you’re not there then my answer is this: cancel culture is both bullshit and not real, and what is and has been going on with jkr is not cancel culture in action but an active boycott of a person’s public contribution to the discourse of society. which is to say this: joanne rowling is the leading figure of a hate movement with profile and resources to direct the body politic. it is in no way hyperbole to say she is and will be the direct cause of trans people’s death.

lea is almost certainly a piece of garbage (possibly along racist lines but possibly just to people in general). but so are any number of people involved in every aspect of the entertainment i enjoy, the food i eat, the services i use. none of them, most likely, are in the same category as jkr.

the real question is, does my going to see her in some way support or endorse racism or bigotry? hardly. the show isn’t a product of hers, espousing a racialized ideology, and she’s not publicly campaigning for white lives mattering or anything other than a musical about an actor and her love life. she’s not even accused of any private behaviour she now stands by. so what would my personally boycotting her achieve beyond some abstract performative tut-tutting? what’s the point of that, especially once someone has already mea-culpa’d? no one has ever really been able to answer this question for me. she’s been called out, and we are a deeply broken society to even suggest that we must continue to call someone out for the rest of their existence.

what i do think we should all strive to do, rather than bend over backwards to make sure we never publicly engage in the work of someone deemed Imperfect by the discourse, is stop elevating anyone to the lofty pedestal of Public Moral Figure. none of us are perfect, least of all random artistically talented people who had the odd fortune to end up in the public eye. accept what they do as a service rendered, and let that be the end of it. their existence shouldn’t be granted so large a right as to be able to cause public harm beyond their entertainment value. because when they do want to use that position to actively cause harm, you end up with the likes of rowling being able to do just that.

20 notes · View notes

comment-exchange · 11 months ago

Note

Hi, thanks for running this exchange! It’s such a good project. In response to your questions on commenting etiquette, especially about concrit: I “grew up” in a fandom where concrit was normal and expected. I had much better engagement with my stories then than I do now, even though I was in a small fandom and most of what I wrote as a teenager was pretty bad. These days I have a lot of readership/kudos, but almost no-one comments, which makes fandom really lonely.

I think anxiety about commenting correctly is part of it. I saw someone leave a thoughtful, enthusiastic two-paragraph comment on a fic recently, and also (accurately) pointed out a single easy to fix typo. Not only the author but several of her friends piled in to belittle and humiliate this person for daring to criticise. Even after the commenter apologised, they continued to level personal abuse. That author is a Big Name Fan in my fandom, so it probably won’t affect people engaging with their stories - but it’s difficult to see it and not think “is this why so few people comment on my fic now?” I am actually going to stop writing for that fandom once I’ve finished my current WIP because it’s like shouting into a void.

The only type of comment that was considered bad manners in my old fandom was flaming. Long comments, short comments, nitpicking, “can’t wait to see what’s next!” etc - that was all fine. Personally, I’d much rather we still had that culture rather than a precise set of rules. If people want to opt out of a certain type of comment they can specify in their author’s note - rather than the current situation, where people are so worried about commenting correctly that they don’t do so at all, and that’s detrimental to fandom community. (And yes, I’ve sent this on anon because I’m worried about *that* author - who had hitherto ignored me - sending her friends after my own fic!)

Really interesting questions and I look forward to seeing people’s responses!

I'm very sorry you're having such a bad experience with the comment culture in that fandom. Thank you for sharing your experience and your opinions on comments, hopefully it will help someone to remember that commenting etiquette isn't a one way street and both the commenter and the author need to be kind.

For anyone looking to help find a balance between not commenting/not getting comments and giving/getting the wrong kind of comments, whatever that might look like, check out @longlivefeedback.

#commenting etiquette #anonymous #comment exchange #commenting culture #comments #how to comment

5 notes · View notes

tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 1 year ago

Text

This post has been ages in the making. It was supposed to be a list of new comedy hours that I’ve seen/heard “in the last week or so”, but actually it’s been about two weeks since I started writing it and then had a weird sort of writer’s block where I was too physically and mentally tired from work (and also maybe rather sad about real life but it’s fine) to want to write anything. But anyway, here’s the post. Some comedy shows that I saw/heard a while and had things I wanted to say about them, just didn’t get around to it until now.

Olga Koch – If/Then (2019), Homecoming (2021), Just Friends (2022)

I heard Olga Koch’s 2023 show Prawn Cocktail recently, and liked it so much that I found the other ones she’s released. I think this is just about all the ones she’s done, since her 2018 show (which hasn’t been released) was nominated for a Newcomer Award, and no one did anything in 2020.

I really liked these. I think If/Then is my favourite of the three, though I don’t know if that equates to it being objectively the best one, the structure just really appealed to me. Talking about her computer science degree and seeing the world in terms of programming. There may have been a couple of times when the connection felt slightly strained, but I liked it anyway and mainly it worked. The actual stories are largely around gendered expectations, and how women get misogynistically praised for being “not like the other girls” if they defy gendered expectations, and obviously that resonated. There was some stuff about her grandmother that I really liked too.

Homecoming is largely about getting a British citizenship (she’s from Russia, grew up going to American schools in Britain so that’s why her accent is like that, she also discussed the weird position of being from so many different places), how she can dissect British culture as an outsider, her perspectives on immigration. Also quite a few stories about sex. There’s a lot of that all across the shows, and I enjoy it more than I usually enjoy stories about sex in comedy shows. Which is a bit, if told well.

Just Friends is mainly (spoiler alert, I guess) about how she met her boyfriend, and my least favourite of the three, mainly because it takes a lot for me to really love a show about how someone met their boyfriend or girlfriend. That was still good, though. Lots of funny stories, the throughline hardly took up the whole thing and was still fun. It had this theme of describing “ho culture”, which didn’t make a huge amount of sense to me but I think wasn’t really for me, and might make more sense to people who are not me.

Across all three, I really liked the way she put them together, embedding the themes at least two layers deeper than I would say the average show does. Also, all of them were just really funny. Like I said about Prawn Cocktail – it made me glad to know I can consider a stand-up show great even if it doesn’t have an incredibly Important Message involved (although there definitely were some Important Messages scattered across these other shows, and I appreciated those as well, also there was definitely some interesting messaging in Prawn Cocktail about the nature of curated “content” and its relationship to reality, so I’m not sure why I said it doesn’t have a message either). The individual stories are fucking funny, almost every time. They can make me laugh when I do relate to them, but they can make me laugh just as hard when I don’t (as in most cases, I’d say, Olga Koch and I have lived very different lives, aside from the unlearning of the misogyny around Not Like The Other Girls), which I think is even more impressive and probably a sign of genuine comedic talent, however that can be distilled. If you can get people to laugh because you said something undeniable funny, not just from recognition.

Her performance style is really engaging. She always seems hyper-aware of how she’s coming across, physically and vocally and within the context of all her complicated identities and relationship to the crowd, and she’s constantly stopping to examine that. I think that, along with the way she goes back and forth among topics and points, makes it hard to get distracted or bored when listening to her.

Urooj Ashfaq – Oh No! (2023)

This won the Best Newcomer award in Edinburgh this year, so I’m glad I got to hear both it and Ahir Shah's show, completing the collection of winners. I liked this one quite a bit. It wasn’t flawless, as people’s first shows usually aren’t. But it was good. The parts that were good, I thought, were really good. There were some really original in there (or so I thought – one of those ideas did turn out to also be in Olga Koch’s Homecoming show, but I think it’s very unlikely that there was intentional copying, just weird that in the same week I heard two people come up with the same idea).

Urooj actually lives in India, which gives her quite a different perspective from most comedians I hear. She’s one of only three comedians I’ve heard who live there, along with Anuvab Pal and Aditti Mittal. So she immediately gets a few extra points for doing it in her second language. She also seemed quite affected by suddenly being thrust into the limelight, in an unfamiliar country, for winning an award. Given all that, she did very well.

A couple of parts of her show required some explanation, because of cultural differences. Some reminded me of Aditti Mittal’s show in that way, having to explain to a Western audience that these things we’d consider normal actually are edgy comedy where they come from, talking about blasphemy or divorce. It’s really interesting, aside from everything else, to try to see what comedy is like in completely different contexts from what I’m used to. And the context affected most of the show, even the parts that weren’t specifically about culture. Because of course it did – everyone’s culture affects every story about their life.

Anyway, I think this show probably deserved the award it got. It’s my favourite out of all the Edinburgh debut hours I heard from this year: Alexandra Haddow, Tadiwa Mahlunge, Bronwyn Sweeney, Dan Tiernan, Mamoun Elagab, Paddy Young, and Lorna Rose Treen. Lorna Rose Treen’s show might have been better to people who like that sort of thing better, comparing sketch/character comedy to “stand there with a mic and tell stories of my life” comedy is apples to oranges. But I tend to prefer the latter.

Anyway, I hope she ends up recording more English-language comedy, and I’m quite curious to see what she does next.

Joe Wells – I Am Autistic (2023)

I didn’t realize until I started watching this show that I’d seen a clip of it before. It’s this clip that went viral a while ago, which came up in my YouTube recommendations and I think I’ve even seen it shared on Facebook. A guy saying he has autism and his brother doesn’t, and then explains all the ways his brother can live an acceptable life with the right supports despite not being autistic. He’s not the first person I’ve ever heard make a joke along those lines, but I think he did it very well.

I watched this show because it was advertised as Go Faster Stripe thing that was put up for free on YouTube, so I figured it was worth checking out. Didn’t realize until after it started that it was that guy from that clip, but this did very much back up my belief that it’s always worth seeing a full-length thing rather than just a clip. The clip was funny, the full show is much better.

He talks in the show about that clip going viral, and how weird that is, and what the reality behind it is. I enjoyed that, as a person who is strongly against the reductive nature of people consuming things in clip form instead of doing it properly (although, to be fair, until I recently I had only seen the clip of this show). I enjoyed this quite a bit. It also wasn’t flawless, I thought some parts were better than others. There was a whole thing about how weird it is that we don’t answer the question “how are you?” honestly, which I think is now about five years past the point at which we could say comedians had fully covered every angle on that one and it could be put to bed. But much of the show felt fresh and funny.

Oh, to balance out the fact that I’ve now accused him a couple of times of being unoriginal, I should say that in one part, he made the point that people are wrong when they think social media is bad for mental health because we see other people living better lives than us and get depressed about it. That’s not a problem, he says, but social media is bad for mental health because we see other people posting racist shit and get depressed about how many racists we know. This wasn’t a particularly funny thing to say, it just a really good point, that I have said multiple times in the last few years but have weirdly not heard anyone else say, so I liked hearing that reflected. Thank you, Joe Wells, for validating my beliefs. Because what do we listen to comedy for if not validating our beliefs? Facebook does not depress me because I see pictures of my friends with kids and wish I had a kid. That’s one of the few upsides, if I’m tired from work and feeling burned out, I can remember that some people have to do all that and then go home, where the responsibilities and the requirement to be around people is only just getting started. While I can cast off the responsibilities and requirement to be around people, and sit in bed playing Pokemon and eating eggs. Their kids do not depress me. What depresses me is realizing how many racists I know.

Actually, as I write this I’ve just remembered I have heard that point made once before. It still counts as Joe Wells being quite original, if I’ve only heard two comedians talk about something then that’s a small number. But Fern Brady said something similar in her Love and Chaos show. I guess it’s an autistic opinion. (That’s not actually true, lots of autistic people are also racist.)

Anyway, it was a funny show. Obviously a lot of it was, in fact, about being autistic. I’ve already heard a whole lot of the jokes about autism that can be made, given that I hang out a lot on the autism website. Despite that, he managed to make a bunch that I hadn’t heard before, so that’s impressive. I recommend it to the many people on this autism website who want to hear more jokes about autism. And like I said, it's free on YouTube:

youtube

Finlay Christie – OK Zoomer (2022)

This is one that I forced myself to watch with as open a mind as possible, because I’m trying to be less of a judgmental dick about gen Z comedians. I’ve seen Finlay Christe once before, when he did Dictionary Corner in an episode of Catsdown last year, and I believe my only comment on it was “Why was there a small child in Dictionary Corner?”

I also know that this particular gen Z comedian has been working on it for a long time. Because last year, when I was looking at all those pictures from that one Flickr account that’s been posting pictures from comedy gigs since about 2006, I saw some pictures from some Comedy For Kids event from years ago, and the picture of one kid was labeled Finlay. Which I figured must be the same guy, since the face looked similar, and it’s not a common name. He confirmed in the OK Zoomer show that it was, told some stories about his time as a child comedian (a literal small child, in this case) doing Comedy For Kids nights, and even showed some footage of one. This footage had James Acaster introducing him, which he described as embarrassing, because James Acaster was his comedy hero, he’d grown up looking up to James Acaster as an older really successful comedian so he hates that James saw the dumb shit he did as a kid. James Acaster. He was a big fan of James Acaster when he was a young kid. I guess I can’t resent Finlay Christie for being young enough to have been a fan of James Acaster when he was a kid, the passage of time isn’t really his fault. But come on. You can’t be allowed to be that young.

That instinctive way of thinking is the sort of thing I was trying to stop about myself, as I decided to watch this comedy special and give the youths a proper chance (well, one youth). And… a bunch of it was pretty funny. Not all of it. But he had some good jokes. Just, straightforwardly, said something that had clearly been written and edited beforehand until it was quite funny. Which is the sort of thing that I stereotypically don’t expect from gen Z comedians, right? I sort of think of them as all Tik-Tok stars who do dancing or crowd work instead of writing material. Well, this guy wrote material. I’d say that solidly more than half of it was quite good.

He didn’t write a lot of it, I noticed. It ran quite short for a full show that he took to Edinburgh in 2022; the recording I watched on YouTube was only 38 minutes. And that’s padded out with a few of those videos and things like that. I looked at the comments, interested to see the takes of the other youths on this youth, and saw a couple of youths say they normally only watch clips and don’t have the attention span for long-form comedy like this but he was so funny that they were willing to watch this long video, which made me briefly despair due to my above-mentioned hatred of our culture’s move toward consuming everything through stripped-of-context clips, but anyway, it’s fine.

To be honest, the part of his identify against which I ended up having the most trouble overcoming my bias wasn’t his age, but his class. Specifically, he dedicated a chunk of the show to sort of bragging about being posh. I say “sort of” because I guess it was meant to be “banter”, making jokes about how his “team” in life – as someone privately educated – is better than the other “team”, people who went to state school. But it doesn’t seem like a great position to take, really.

I obviously don’t hate all privately educated people, some of my favourite comedians are privately educated people. I was about to say I don’t hate them in real life either, but actually they’re barely a factor in real life, I think I’ve only ever met two privately educated people in person. I think private schools are less common here than in Britain, because on British TV they keep making jokes about how private school is for the privileged middle class and state schools are for poor kids. But I grew up solidly middle class, and yet don’t know anyone who paid for school before university. Well, almost anyone. I knew a couple of people, and everyone knew them as the wildly, ridiculously rich kids, so ridiculously rich that they lived in mansions and went to a private school. I can’t tell if private schools are more common in the UK, or if most comedians just grew up so rich that to them, anyone who didn’t live in a mansion was a poor kid, and that’s where the “state school is for poor kids” jokes come from.

Anyway, like I said, I like lots of privately educated comedians. Some never mention it (you wouldn’t know it about Alex Horne, would you?). Some are self-deprecating about it (Ivo Graham). Some use their experiences to write more informed material that criticizes the way the private school system perpetuates class structures (okay, I only know one comedian who does this, and it’s Andy Zaltzman). But not many privately educated comedians choose to brag about their status in their comedy act, even as a joke. Finlay was joking when he bragged about it. But still, it was fairly off-putting.

So it was a mixed bag, that show. He had some quite funny jokes about college and living in a generation that knows it’s doomed and sliding into DMs. He had some weird bits where he made fun of state school kids, which made it quite impossible to find him endearing. He then played some footage of himself as a child getting introduced by James Acaster and then making a dorky joke, which of course was very endearing. He said a few interesting things that dissected how comedy worked. I tried not to be a judgmental dick. It was interesting to watch, anyway.

Other gen Z comedian Leo Reich has a special coming out soon, I've heard a few things by him that I quite like so I will watch that. So see, I'm giving the youths a shot. Leo Reich actually featured fairly significantly in the Olga Koch show Just Friends, that I recently watched. He featured as (spoiler alert, genuinely, for the end of that show) the guy who helped her meet her boyfriend, that boyfriend being Sam Williams, a third gen Z comedian that I have now heard of, and Finlay Christie thanks Sam Williams for doing tour support at the end of OK Zoomer. So there, small world and I am plenty informed about the world of gen Z comedians. At least, about the ones who've hung out with Olga Koch.

Harriet Kemsley – Woman Child (2022)

This is another special that was recently released for free on YouTube. I watched it because I find Harriet Kemsley breathtakingly hilarious on panel shows. However, some comedians are funny on panel shows in a way that make me think I bet their stand-up’s funny. Harriet Kemsley, however, is funny that’s so specific to panel show formats (her way of interacting with others, and her odd takes on rules and format points), that I wasn’t so sure if she’d be as funny alone on stage with just a microphone. But I wanted to find out.

For the first little while, I have to admit, I thought I’d made a bit of a mistake with this special. It was about her husband (Bobby Mair, a comedian who’s also fairly funny on panel shows, he’s got a special on NextUp that I should probably check out at some point) and her marriage, and it was so slow and boring. Sometimes, I hear comedians do material about marriage and/or parenting, and I think I’m not enjoying this, but it’s not aimed at me, this sort of humour works because it’s relatable, so probably someone who is married and/or a parent would like it. But in this case, I was sort of thinking – I’m not sure this is interesting even to its target audience. I’ve heard jokes like all of this before.

But once she got past the first little bit, it got better and pretty much stayed on that upward trajectory, with maybe a few stumbles along the way. But the end, I felt like I’d just seen a really enjoyable stand-up special, even if it wasn’t perfect. This is despite the fact that she did come back to the not-my-favourite topic by telling stories of her pregnancy and then of parenthood, but I actually still enjoyed those.

A lot of the show ended up being about gendered expectations, how society views women, how this affects the way she parents a daughter. And that’s a type of parenting story that I can find interesting. I guess I’m more the target audience for that – I’m not a wife or a mother, but I am a woman, so I can relate to gender material more than to marriage/parenthood material.

However, a lot of it was still not particularly relatable to me. This was something that occurred to me while I listened to Olga Koch as well. It’s something I’ve thought of before, when listening to various female comedians who are particularly feminine (I think I first noticed it when I watched Katherine Ryan’s Netflix specials a couple of years ago). I can hear a male comedian tell a story about being a teenage boy, and even if there are some bits that I can’t relate to because they were specifically gendered, I can put myself in his shoes and find the humour in it anyway. While if I hear a feminine female comedian tell a story about having been a feminine teenage girl, I struggle to do the same. Something feels uncomfortable as I try to do that, I think because they so often tell this story as “this is what being a teenage girl was like, we all remember it, right, girls? We all remember trying to put on makeup and impress boys and wear nice clothes?”

And not only did I not do those things, but a lot of my teenage memories involve feeling uncomfortable under the expectations that I should be doing those things, getting in huge fights with my mother because I wouldn’t be enough of a girl, getting negatively judged by girls who did do those things right because I didn’t. Not all of my memories, of course. Lots of my teenage memories are about playing sports, engaging in various nerdy activities with my mostly male nerdy friends, and liking girls who didn’t like me back. So actually, I find lots of male comedians’ anecdotes about being a teenage boy quite relatable. I spent most of my teenage years trying not to think about what teenage girls were expected to be doing, and getting upset when I was reminded of it by people telling me I should do it. So when I hear female comedians talk about teenage makeup mishaps with an attitude of “I know all the women in the room remember this”, I instinctively don’t like it. I’m glad comedy like that exists, for the people who do relate to it to enjoy. But I find it difficult, and then I feel guilty about the internalized misogyny that makes me find it difficult, because I just gave several paragraphs of excuses for what boils down to me being more open to hearing things from male comedians than from female ones.

Anyway. Harriet Kemsley’s show did have a bit of that. But I think I’ve gotten better, in the last while, at not having an immediate negative reaction to that. So I made myself just listen to her stories, and that was worth it. She had interesting things to say about how it felt to be a girl who did want to meet the expectations of what a girl should be. And she had funny things to say when criticizing how absurd those expectations are, and when describing how much of a mess it was when she tried to do it. She then tied that into her parenting stories, talked about her daughter growing up in a world that has its own set of expectations, talked about still feeling the need to meet those feminine expectations as an adult but not wanting to pass that need down to her daughter. Tackled some serious subjects, remained pretty consistently funny while discussing them – I think that was the strongest part of her comedy show.

Daniel Kitson – Maybe a Ghost Story (2023)

I watched this when he livestreamed it on Halloween a couple of weeks ago (a show that was originally performed in 2022, and the version that was streamed as pretty much exactly the same as the 2022 version, it’d be great if that just becomes a Halloween tradition to do this every year), it was very good, I was going to add it to this but I’ve decided it deserves its own post. Which I will write another day. But at least today I’ve managed to finish most of the post that I started like two weeks ago.

2 notes · View notes

bestworstcase · 2 years ago

Note

I feel like many bad takes or bad analysis from certain crowds ultimately boil down to people being utterly inattentive and basically wanting to FEEL smart over actually BEING smart.

They like the idea of "show don't tell", but scorn the idea of actually putting in any effort to actually understand what they're being shown, especially if it contradicts what they want to believe.

Media only exists in their eyes to reinforce their own biases instead of challenging what they think, and anything that does so is an affront to their image of themselves.

taps the sign. (<- a tangent but i have very strong opinions regarding “show don’t tell,” to wit that as it is utilized memetically as both advice and criticism it is nonsense.)

i think you are ascribing egotism and small-mindedness to a phenomenon better explained by the simple fact that textual analysis is a difficult skill to learn and one that is, outside of specific disciplines to which it is a core function, very poorly taught. i benefitted a great deal from having an exceptional humanities teacher in high school who made it a priority to teach textual analysis and critical thinking skills above everything else, and it absolutely blew me away to get to college and discover that almost all of my peers—incredibly smart, creative, thoughtful people—wrote analytical essays on par with what i had written in middle school. none of them were stupid or arrogant or lazy [frankly many of them worked a hell of a lot harder on every essay than i did, because they were learning new skills while i practiced things i’d already been doing regularly for four years]; but they hadn’t ever been taught how to parse texts analytically, whereas i had, so there was a huge divide when we entered college which shrank as they built those skills. as with anything some people will find it easier to learn textual analysis than others but nobody is born knowing how to do it and short of studying it in college in some capacity you’re unlikely to be taught more than the bare minimum lies-to-children basics.

there’s also the secondary factor that some people enjoy textual analysis and some really don’t, in the same way that some people enjoy mathematics and others do not; people in the latter category are generally not going to be reading or watching stories they enjoy particularly deeply because that would make the experience an unpleasant chore, and that’s, like, fine? the vast majority of people read and watch things to have fun and certainly in the context of fandom the core motivation is enjoyment. there’s no one right way to enjoy a story. (that said, fandom as a whole does tend to be rather analytically lukewarm because the primary approach to the text is transformative rather than analytical and this, in combination with the tendency for fandom to bring non-analytical and analytical audiences into close contact, can cause some friction. in my experience this friction most often occurs along fault lines between fans whose engagement is driven by emotional connection to or identification with certain characters and fans who engage analytically with character as a narrative tool; i think there is a degree of mutual incomprehensibility between the two camps that tends to spark conflict when the two interact.)

all of this is compounded by—(thwacks the dead horse)—christian hegemony, which is the underlying cultural engine driving things like fandom purity culture and the rigidity of good/bad categorization of characters and implicit expectation that all stories are or should be morality plays, and so forth; this is an issue on both sides of the non-analytical/analytical divide and has less to do with individual arrogance than it does the hegemonic moral framework that underlies US culture generally and online fandom culture by extension because online fandom is extremely americanized. although i do think that this is also, if not THE root cause, then at least a significant factor behind the recent-ish rejection of subtext as ‘real’ (so to speak) and the proliferation of the attitude that a story that fails to overtly and clearly explain itself is poorly written; points at evangelical christianity in particular fostering the mindset that individual questioning and interpretation and extrapolation from scripture is suspect on the grounds that there is a singular right answer that you are told by church leadership, which at minimum does nothing to equip the people who grow up in evangelical churches to handle critical analysis or even more-than-superficial comprehension of any other text.

of course some people are disingenuous and arguing in bad faith—that is the bedrock of hatedom specifically and tends to be driven by a variety of factors of which latent or overt bigotry, bitterness over jossed theories, and strong group identification with the hatedom seem to be the most common—but that’s a really small (if vocal) minority compared to the number of people who either lack analytical skill or don’t enjoy analytical engagement or both but form strong opinions anyway (as people tend to do about things they really like, or really don’t like). i don’t think it’s useful or kind to presume that anyone with a staunchly weird or whacky take is treating a story they like as a vehicle for self-aggrandizement.

#also presuming bad faith when you see a bad take—esp to this extreme degree—#is a great way to have a miserable time on the internet #people will as a general rule treat you how you treat them #sidebar i feel like i’ve seen this exact question before. do you shop this around #weird hill to die on if so

16 notes · View notes

lafcadiosadventures · 2 years ago

Text

Madame Putiphar Readalong. Book One, Chapter Three:

(original illustration on the second volume of the paperback 1st edition of madame Putiphar, depicting a clock without hands over two crossed tibiae and a teardrop falling. You can almost picture André Breton going crazy over this, gathering like-minded friends...)

We have seen last week how the Castle is a curious sort of prison. Here we will explore how harm can take the guise of love. It’s not so much about personal good intentions paving the way to hell, but rather, about intentions having little to do with anything, we become gears in the mechanisms of culture (or as perhaps Borel would say, we are instruments of a certain kind of “fatalité”). Even without knowing it, we can enact roles that suppress other’s freedoms.

We also continue with Borel’s indagations on free will, with the occasional diderotian flavor.

And most importantly, we meet our protagonist: Deborah.

The form of the chapter is similar to the previous one: dialogue with one or two minimal interventions from the narrator. The narrator, does not use his space to lead the reader’s opinions on the characters. (as in shakespearean theatre, we get no didaskalias, just the character’s words.)

We learn that our Labyrinthine Castle has secret passages that can even be used to trick its master. (it seems like lady Cockermouth is slyer than her husband thinks) We meet Debby, our young heroine. We do not get a physical description of Debby (as we didn’t of her parents) which seems unusual to me. The books I’m used to reading from France at this period usually have to have a physical portrait of the character, and brief psychological profile of different degrees of ambiguity before we hear them talk. Think Balzac, Hugo. The narrator has to show you first how they look, sometimes a bit of how they act and/or think to make you curious and also, perhaps to guide your opinions on them. This is pure theatre or 18th c philosophical dialogue.

We are only told Debby is inwardly fearful, but wearing an affectionate demeanor.

And we get to know Lady Cockermouth a bit better, Fear and submission have made of her a manipulative sort of person.

She performs an interrogation. And if we see the Castle as a prison, Lady Cockermouth is kind of the good cop to Lord Cockermouth’s bad cop (with the caveat that she is also terrorized by him, she is not his equal and things would have been different if she weren’t married to him)

She greets her daughter by praising her diligent obedience. She wants to know if Debby is still seeing Patrick. She describes Debby’s love for Patrick to her. She characterizes it as a sort of fraternal bond that has dangerously bloomed into romantic love and sexual attraction.

We learn that Lady Cockermouth thinks of herself as made weaker by her maternal instinct. (Borel is refreshingly very critical of the repressive uses of science of his day, we have seen him mock phrenology back in chapter one. I’d like to imagine he would scoff at the idea of an innate maternal instinct)(Rousseau’s idea that maternity is natural and paternity is cultural and has to be learnt, therefore intellectual comes to mind) Deborah, her mother informs us, would grow furious at their daily separation. Her father would throw fits of rage at her mother for allowing their friendship. But it would have been cruel of her to deprive her of her only friend. But now Pat is an adult and Debbie has forgotten what’s “decorous” for a woman and “appropriate” for her superior rank. Her mother begs her to remember all the pain her tolerance of Debby’s love has brought them. She thinks her husband’s abuse is a normal reaction to her stepping out of line. She tells Debby how she has defended her from her father’s claims that she is a woman who has “nocturnal engagements” (the french original wording leaves little doubt: fille -which can also be used to refer to a sex worker-à commerce -enough said-nocturne) Manipulatively, she says it’s impossible for Debby to have acted in ways that would harm her father’s pride and bring sorrow to her mother. (daughters’ feelings are out of the equation, they must carry the banner of their father’s pride and honor, and ensure the tranquillity of their mothers by being good girls. That is all)

Debby cries out and admits she has been seeing Patrick. Her mother grows terrified that her father will hear them. Lady Cockermouth maintains even if Debby’s love wasn’t guilty, she should have stopped it because it brought her husband’s arm of lead upon her.

And then we get to my favourite part of the chapter. Debby’s reflection on the incidence of free will on love (i was reminded of a quote by Diderot’s Jacques). Can a person really choose who they love? We know that will and choice have nothing to do with love, you can rationally choose a partner, but there’s an instinctual level to who we fall in love with. It is not a matter of willing to stop. Even if Debby, using her head, has tried to satisfy her parents and play her role as a baroness, she cannot bring her self to it. Even reason tells her this is wrong since Patrick’s only crime is poverty and a lack of rank.

“If there are people who can, at the sound of a whistle, fall in or out of love, I am not one of them. I have tried everything; said to myself all sorts of things to overcome my passion; and everything I did to destroy it has accomplished nothing but its consolidation. I have finally abandoned this unequal duel against nature; and I have let myself be stirred by the currents; if they drag me to an abyss, so be it, I would still follow it.”

Love as a force of Nature, fatalism, determinism even...

In this passage Debby also enacts a subject Borel seems to interested in. Love as a parallel or equivalent force to the search for freedom, whichs fulfilment can lead to death. In his story La nonne de Peñaranda, the novice Benita Pérez de Aguilar, sees love as a way out of the convent, and is prepared to die in its pursuit. Both Debby and Benita are locked away against their will and a man’s love is their chance to get out. In Debby’s case the bond is less circumstantial, if the nun seemed to be taking the first possible ally for escape she finds, and love might be play acting on the nun's part to get the soldier's help, Debby and Patrick are united by fate and nature, and of course, they know each other for much longer. And dying while following this amalgamation of love and liberty is better than longevity inside a jail.

Her mother thinks Debbie has learnt this philosophy from Patrick. She corrects her. Her “peasant” is not a man of a scandalous nature. She speaks from her own heart. Debby yields to her mother’s interrogatory and admits she has seen Patrick for a year, every night. Sometimes inside the castle, lots of others, in the surrounding forest. Her mother calls her shameless. Debby claims they are having edifying conversations.

Her mother assures her even if she had “fallen” she would still treat her affectionately, because depriving someone of affection is to applaud the person’s vices (ok?) or to drive them to suicide. (she will show affection because she is afraid of Debby’s reaction if she ceases being affectionate to her, it’s interesting that she doesn’t say she’d love her anyway. As if it wasn’t already abundantly clear, look how afraid this woman is constantly. She is never spontaneous, always calculating the effect her reactions will have on others.)

And she implores Debby not to confirm her father’s suspicions that Deb is rejecting the suitors because of her love of Patrick. She is to be presented a new one soon, and if she refuses him too, she will be sent to a correction facility in England “until her feelings become more sociable” Debbie is outraged that she is being “treated like she is insane or a prostitute” (that wouldn’t make this sort of treatment ok either, Debby) by her own parents, and sticks to her vow: being Patrick’s or God’s.

What follows is a discussion on filial love:

The mother accuses her of respecting Love more than filial duties

Debby states that filial duties are only valid if they are part of a reciprocal exchange of love. Why should all sacrifices be made by the children, who must to satisfy their parents, abdicate their reason, sometimes their youth and proceed to ruin their own lives. How dare someone demand a love under such terms. (I wonder if Borel -like Balzac, on the opposing side, is talking here of filial love to imply blind loyalty to the monarch)

Her mother is hurt because even if Debby doesn’t know it, she has made sacrifices for her (the mom is both manipulative and also genuinely afraid for her and her daughter) even greater than the sacrifices Debby has made.

The manipulation works and Debby apologizes to her mother, she is sorry that a certain haphazard or fate, “quelle hasard, quelle fatalité” has made her hurt someone she loves so much.

(le Littré defines hasard as: l'ensemble des événements non liés à des causes, par opposition au destin, qui est l'ensemble des événements prédestinés. hasard: random events not bound to causes.

While fatalité: Enchaînement des choses fatales, de ce qui est réglé par le destin.-> a chain of unfortunate events, as ruled by destiny.)(Debby is juggling two opposite terms here)

The mother is thankful for her apology and proceeds to ask her to break up with Patrick. Which understandably horrifies Debbie.

The arguments the mother uses are again linked with fate and free will. She may be trying to use the Debby’s ideas to persuade her. She claims a break up with Patrick is inevitable and a matter of time (Fate) so, why not break up now with him according to her own (or rather her parent’s) needs and convenience? (Will) She then warns Debby about her father’s surveillance. If she is caught, she’d be lost (and so would her mother). Debby refuses because it’s simply impossible for her. Her mother asks her then, to do it in order to avoid herself the pain and humiliation of her father’s trap.

The narrator intervenes to explain Debby has fallen down and stayed immobile at her mother’s feet, like a statue (in that fine Romantic tradition of comparing characters with works of art) Debby coldly agrees, but asks she is allowed to warn Patrick. She swears after that she’ll never see him again.

The mother is overjoyed because she thinks if she behaves obediently, the abuser will not torment them any longer. She also asks Debby to act as if nothing had just happened when they get all together for lunch. (!)(that’s not asking much right?)

And the narrator describes in some simple words an embrace that is cold and provides no comfort, the mother’s embrace is almost repellent to her in that moment. The narrator tells us Debby feels she doesn’t deserve it. She deserves all the embraces in the world. But this might or might not be alluding to her maybe not being entirely sincere with her mother,, just like the Mother with Lord Cockermouth in the previous chapter. We shall have to wait till next week.

#madame putiphar #putiphar posting #the great putiphar reread of 2023 #long post #text post #could have been a little less detailed probably but we learn as we go

6 notes · View notes

thecoolerheretic · 2 years ago

Text

My Dear Barnabas

Forgive my writing of this letter so soon after the last. You must think me dreadful for not giving the chance at a reply, however I must insist due to the state of things. This will likely be my final words, I am dying Barnabas. As you’d recall I’d thought the end of the conflict between the Americas would be a grand time to investigate the claims of our mutual colleague Maximilian that the western front of the Americas is rife with artifacts from bygone eras and cities made of gold. Normally I’d dash such unfounded trite until the night after our university’s engagement he’d shown me an artifact supposedly uncovered by his father in the very area he described. I apologize for not speaking of this earlier, but it was magnificent and with this expedition’s costs I feel justified in my decision to keep it from you and Ophelia. I am lucky insofar that I never married during our years at the academy, otherwise I’d be writing to almost a dozen individuals rather than you Barnaby. Regardless, the item Max used to tempt my curiosity was a disk akin to a ceramic or stone, I could not identify its make, but I had recognized the markings we’d seen in your father’s study. Do you remember Barnaby? When we were young we’d pretend we were explorers with all of the lord's trinkets and artifacts? I’d hoist up a sword of japanese design and you’d use both hands to wield a buckler from the 15th century, playing as knights when our path was truly that of academia. It does not matter now, the disk resembled a similar stone tablet in your father’s study that he’d retrieved from a dilapidated temple in Mexico and Max had a disk with the same markings. Only he claimed that he’d found it in a cave in California which at the time was a stage of war between the Americans and their neighbors. He’d offered to show me the site, explaining that there was an obstacle between the entrance and what he believed to be the temple proper. It was a chance to redeem myself for embarrassing my father’s name in university, to prove our belief that ancient cultures had reason to believe in what we’d call pagan gods. There are dark things in this world Barnaby, we both know it.

Besides, my curiosity overcame me and I agreed to join his exploration team then and there. I wish you had been there. You would have noticed the look in his eye, where I was already caught in his web. Looking back I should have seen the way his skin yellowed, the strings of scarlet stretched across his eyes and the faint hint of rusty discoloration upon his nails. You would have seen that his only motivation was capitalist in nature rather than academic. Perhaps if I’d stopped for even one one thousandth of a second to ponder the nature of this journey I wouldn’t have stepped onto his wretched ship, the last asset his dwindling fortune could sustain. Each day upon that death-trap was a continuous practice in spiritual flagellation. Every time the vessel turned I thought that would be it, I’d never reach this wonderous discovery which would define my academic career. Respect, influence, and tenure could be mine, but that effort would be for naught if the damned ship capsized before America was even in sight. Months passed with thankfully no sickness ravaged the crew and my bunk was of reasonable comfort, but I would’ve much preferred the company and companionship you and Ophelia provide. Regardless the journey was made and within four months this expedition of the damned had reached its destination.

Once in the new land we’d come to rest in a small village just a few dozen miles away from the site, a simple mining town named Providence. The irony is not lost on me. The following day Max offered to ride side-saddle with me, I instead paid for my own transport. Within a day’s travel we’d have reached it, the object of months of suffering. A sheer plateau that raised itself from horizon red soil, standing in the middle of what seemed an impossibly sparse location. It was as if god had reached down with his thumb and forefinger and pinched dirt and rock into shape. The formation seemed to stretch for more than a mile, scraping the sky almost as high. Our quarry however, would be found at its northeastern flank. A crack in the stone akin to a lightning bolt was just wide enough to allow a man to squeeze inside with ease. Initially I had my doubts, but once a particular large member of the excavation team had slipped in, embarrassment was the least of my concerns. There were five of us. It pains me deeply that I cannot remember their names or faces, I fear this will not be the worst sin I will suffer for. The crack had led us from a rocky untamed cropping into a spacious cavern lit by only lanterns. I watched our shadows race across the marks of erosion within the walls, the only source of entertainment as we silently shuffled down the path. Progressively the path would widen, first a few inches, then a foot of space let me breathe. The air could barely fill my lungs before dust bullied its way inside. Naturally I’d cough, but that’d only earn me a glare and a hushing from whoever was next to me. His name was Viktor I think? He might have been slavic now I think about it. Regardless, before my body could grow stiff from slithering through the crack we had come upon an opening.

Our light did not reach the walls of the space we had stepped in, leaving even now its true height and width a mystery to me. I had no time to explore our sudden surroundings, instead being hurried along by Maximilian, who’d now taken the chance to lead as he remembered the path he’d taken before. The air inside the chamber was cool to my skin like an autumn breeze, but the lack of wind or any noise outside of our cohort left me at attention. In the distance I’d notice the sound of shifting rocks, looking out only to meet complete darkness. Simply walking through the pathway felt as if descending into Inferno, the only shapes discernable being the times we’d walk near a cave wall. Sometimes there were more cracks and within I’d spot trickles of a reflective liquid within them, at the time I thought it was water. More than a few times I’d noticed my hand resting against my hip and the pistol I’d purchased in preparation for this journey. It was a tool of iron and man made industry so the uniformity brought peace to the chaotic and almost shapeless space surrounding us. At least it did so enough to bring a momentary comfort. Before long our pace was halted and I was left to hoist my lamp up to see what we’d even stopped for. Walls and a ceiling were welcome additions, a smooth stone surface the same coloration at the exterior made each of the surfaces within the chamber I now stood in.

The entrance was not a door I should say, but an uneven opening within a wall too unnatural to have been created by erosion. I did not press the issue of how Max had got within this chamber the first time. I did however question what stood at the far end of the rectangular space. Taking up almost the full height of the room stood a gargantuan set of stone double doors. The slate grey behemoths looked down on us, their surface a sprawl of inscriptions and unknowable lexicons. Without thinking I’d approached it, careful not to lay my hands upon it’s face. Max, the moron, explained to me how he’d removed the disk from this door. I wanted to shoot him right there as my hands traced an invisible border around a circular opening. He’d simply pried off a stone artifact right from the wall! Not cut, not removed. I could tell from simple observation that he must have used an iron lever to pull the damned thing off. The idiot was bragging about how he’d gotten the disk while holding it when I pivoted, snatched the stone from his hands and slammed it back into its spot. He fumbled, fell, and cursed at me as I simply shook in absolute fury. My hand rested against the holster again as I began a trade of curses in retaliation. He was a fool that’d broken an unknowably ancient artifact for nothing more than to recruit me when a simple description would have sufficed! He still noticed sooner than I did that the stone did not fall from its spot like I’d thought it would. No, my face burned too hot to hear the scraping and shifting of ancient architecture to see that the doorway was opening and behind it was light.

An invisible force knocked us to the ground, thunder following and forcing me to cover my ears. I attempted standing up as did others, but another wave pushed us onto our stomachs with what I could only think was malice. The previously dead air now whipped and roared around us, sand filling in from cracks in the walls as Maximilian began to scream. I cannot say what stood behind me, only that after only a moment or two of his shriek Maximilian was simultaneously transformed into glass and then shattered from his stomach to his skull. I saw a hole appear in his gut like water sucked down a drain, a spiral of what once was flesh now a multicolored parody of stained glass. Not even his bones seemed to remain as they too shattered upon impact with the hard ground. I lay with my back to the door, its new light shining down upon me as the rest of the cohort stared directly into its warden. It was in that light, in those shadows I saw only the shape of what now assailed us. It had shoulders, but no chest, a head but no neck. Everything remained connected in a changing assortment of unidentifiable limbs. The only constant of this creature being the wide branch like crown that sat at the top of this nightmare. I saw one pull his gun on the thing, but as he pulled the trigger the barrel had warped and stretched to the side of his temple. Viktor turned his back to run, but his body did not listen. Instead of sprinting towards the exit, invisible strings yanked him to the side, body slamming against a cracked wall as he began to melt between them as screaming liquid. Another hadn’t done anything but raised the cross at his neck, quaking in fear while I remained frozen in it. The creature seemed to find humor in this as the strap around the final member’s neck suddenly contracted, leather turning to steel wire as he struggled against strangulation but ultimately fell silent. Sound was impossible for me as I felt the weight of it’s presence behind me. I’m not certain if it was fear or determination which kept me from looking upon the thing which murdered my companions, but whatever it was caused my eyes to snap shut as my back arched into a piercing sensation at the mid of my spine. I felt my very bones shift and twist between two points of pressure until they began to pull. I collapsed to the stone floor in a heap, breathing but unbearably numb. As the light retreated from the room, darkness took me.

I’m told it was days before I returned to the village. Somehow I’d been strapped to my horse and it was led in the right direction. I write this letter as I lie in whatever cheap bed I could be given with fever and paralyzed. What passed for a doctor in this town said I may not live to return to England so here I am, writing a letter to the only person I can bring myself to care about. If I am able I’ll be on the first ship back home and perhaps I’ll deliver this by hand.

Your obedient, faithful, and stupid servant,

Jonathan

Addendum, there is one detail which I remember in the dead of night. Hours after I penned these first words. When the light left the room, I could tell that the shadow of the thing which tore the group apart hadn’t moved from it’s position behind me. I am afraid Barnaby, that whatever came out of that door did not simply return whence it came.

#original work #original fiction #horror #body horror #i did a thing

0 notes

glimmering-brainfamily · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 14,710 times in 2022

That's 13,328 more posts than 2021!

141 posts created (1%)

14,569 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@red-revival

@cat-boy-tits

@yharnamsnewslug

@haboat

@vaspider

I tagged 2,179 of my posts in 2022

#homestuck - 41 posts

#drugs - 37 posts

#psychonauts - 15 posts

#my art - 14 posts

#unreality - 13 posts

#dragon age - 12 posts

#queer - 12 posts

#antisemitism - 10 posts

#cultist simulator - 10 posts

#oh no - 9 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#no op sorry im still going to read “a hasty toilet” as “i cocked my ass and fired it like a gun into the chamber pot shattering it instantly

My Top Posts in 2022:

How Do you Do Fellow Cultists?

I made a uquiz to find out what your main Principle would be if you were a character in the cultsim world >> https://uquiz.com/8wxELS <<

blease enjoy

81 notes - Posted April 11, 2022

tryna act normal during an enlightenment ascension

94 notes - Posted April 8, 2022

So I just found out that there’s been some confusion between the Genderqueer flag, and the old UK suffragette flag that’s been co-opted by TERFs. Rather than give up our nice flag to the people who want us silenced and dead, I figured I’d offer up a temporary solution :)

See the full post

257 notes - Posted March 3, 2022

Hiii ok so!!! Folks!!! When people were saying Don't Interact With Corporate Accounts because they will try to emulate tumblr culture

⬇️ This Is The Sort Of Posts They Were Telling You Not To Interact With ⬇️

This blog started posting in june of this year and 100% of their posts are totally straight-laced ads for switch games and promotions. Almost all posts are complete flops with under 10 notes with a handful getting up to maybe 200 notes. This post that mentions bowser's hot balls is the only one to break past that (for obvious reasons). Most of the notes on this one are people being reasonably incredulous "is this a parody account??" "they knew what they were doing" etc. I get it, but Don't Do That.

They are testing the waters and trying to figure out how to get ads past your adblockers. When you reblog a post like this for any reason, they succeed at doing this to every one of your followers.

Do Not Engage Means: Do Not Fucking Engage!

1,254 notes - Posted November 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

If I can get tooth-rottingly sincere for a second? TERFs and radfems are destined to lose in the end. A movement centered on hating others- especially a demographic that is and always has been present in every culture and group throughout history, and always will be- is utterly unsustainable. It is forced to prey on the vulnerable in order to recruit, and that kind of hatred just... weighs on you, colours your perceptions and makes you unable to engage with the world in a healthy way, drains you until you’re just an empty husk. If every trans person were wiped off the face of the earth today and every mention of us redacted from all history, there would still be kids born tomorrow who look at their assigned gender and go ‘hm. don’t like that’ and do something different. They would find people just like themselves and we would persist. I have no idea what the world is going to look like when I am long gone, but I know for certain that there will be trans people in it, just as there will be gays and lesbians, there will be bisexuals, aces, aros, nonbinary folk and EVERY infinitesimal point within the queer spectrum, because its simply not possible to expunge us from the world without eradicating all of humanity. That’s the thought that keeps me going, you know? Even leaving aside gender stuff- the urge to self-create and self-express, and the urge to love ourselves and love each other- it’s woven into our very natures! No matter what happens, that light can’t be snuffed out. Thank you for your time, and stay hydrated.

6,270 notes - Posted March 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

1 note · View note

remythologise · 3 years ago

Note

important question: which media properties would you cash in your "gay ships go canon" chips on?

Truly one of the most wonderful questions I’ve ever received, thank you so much anon.

So to begin our analysis let’s revisit our portfolio positions from June 2021 to see how our economic landscape has shifted. So obviously I’ve personally made new investments in Nandermo and TedTrent stocks, for example, and we’ve more broadly seen a big shift towards what I’d call ‘second-wave queerbait’ in the last few months. But that’s a pretty good overview of the market overall.

To start this analysis I’ll need to have a baseline fund to be investing from, so let’s say I have the equivalent of 5 ‘chips’ to cash in. I’ll also slightly modify the question to factor in likelihood of canon (if there was no likelihood of canon factor involved, for example, I’d invest more heavily in Geraskier). So let’s go bait by bait based on the ones I engage with or at least know about:

1. Destiel: Probably the trickiest one but also the most obvious to start with. In a very real way it’s already ‘gone canon’ and fandom stocks have already probably hit an all time high. Would I want Destiel to go fully canon? Absolutely. However, this show is functionally ‘over’, so investing here feels like pushing for a company that’s already declared bankruptcy. I would not invest in Destiel*.

2. Hannigram and Villaneve: Whether or not shows continue, these ships are already essentially canon in any meaningful way to the fanbase and audiences. I would not invest in Hannigram or Villaneve.

3. Aziraphale/Crowley: I don’t care for Neil Gaiman’s particular brand of bait-excusing, nor do I really think this being canon would alter the fandom or culture in any real way. I would not invest in Ineffable Baiting.

4. Nandermo: This is heading towards, if not already, canon, and stocks have already jumped accordingly. Minimal returns on a sure bet. I would not invest in Nandermo.

5. Supercorp: Genuinely WOULD have invested here if the show hadn’t just ended (bankruptcy). Despite never having seen the show, I think the cultural win here would have been huge for everyone. Disappointed that investment here is now pointless. I would not invest in Supercorp.

6. Any MCU Ship At All: bankruptcy and/or insufferable fandom. Wouldn’t put my money in Disney if you paid me. No chance of any big ship going canon. I would not invest in the MCU.

7. Symbrock: Functionally the ‘MCU’ but already about as ‘canon’ as they’ll ever be. I would not invest in Symbrock because stocks have already jumped into canon territory.

8. Cherik: Functionally not the ‘MCU’ and functionally not ‘bankrupt’ since there can always be new films and properties, though it’s unlikely, and even more unlikely to ever be pushed into canon in the near to mid-term future. I would not invest in Cherik.

9. Merthur, Hilson, SilverFlint, XenaGabrielle, FinnPoe, and any other historical ships: Functionally bankrupt. Let’s just talk about the ones with actual possibility.

10. Sterek and Johnlock: have to be mentioned separately as tumblr tentpoles that I feel differently about to the above, and for the fact that revivals of these seem more possible. Almost tempted by how fucking funny the fallout and drama and fandom revivals would be but I’d rather die than invest my canon chips here.

11. Buddie: Deep down I think 911 is too ridiculously popular and Mainstream-America to make it canon. Nor do I think the results would be particularly game-changing, even if it were. Call me a cynic, but I would not invest in Buddie.

12. Geraskier: Unfortunately the odds on this one being reciprocated are insurmountable because of existing canon and core demographics. I would not invest in Geraskier, though I dearly want to, it’s already as canon as it would get. (As much as I dream of the total havoc that Geralt/Jaskier canon would wreak on reddit. Oh, if I were a billionaire, with enough chips…)

13. Tom/Greg: This is not a ‘ship’ this is a toxic, complex relationship on a well-written show that I trust to be engaging no matter what they do with it. I would not invest in TomGreg.

14. MacDennis: Don’t watch this show but overall from what I hear from those who do the ship vibes are Yikes. I would not invest in MacDennis.

15. Harry/Kim: Likely to be bankrupt as the sequel won’t feature them as protagonists. If it somehow isn’t bankrupt I’ll find more chips to use because we absolutely deserve any potential sex scene to be about them specifically.

16. WB Holmes/Watson: This is EXACTLY the perfect kind of investment opportunity you dream about. The odds here seem impossible because of how mainstream these films are, but the actors would be willing, the bait keeps increasing towards the canon singularity, and it would fundamentally shift culture in a huge way. I WOULD INVEST IN WB HOLMES/WATSON.

17. Kotetsu/Barnaby: Now I know a lot of you will ask ‘what are you talking about’. But this isn’t about you, this is about me and my personal chip supply. In a post-Yuri-on-Ice world, anything is possible, and I firmly believe in those possibilities !!! March 2022 I believe in you!!! I WOULD INVEST IN TAIBUNI.

18. Ted/Trent: While I don’t care for this ship as much as others on this list, I think culturally I want to cash in my chips here. The impact of having the Apple TV+ show EVERYONE is watching go for Ted/Trent rather than anything else? You Want To See It. Would improve the show monumentally, too. I invested here when stocks were barely worth anything, and look at me now. Big Risk, Big Returns. I WOULD INVEST IN TED/TRENT.

19. Kirk/Spock: It’s What They Deserve. After all these years.. if there’s any true logic to the universe, Star Trek would embrace its legacy of boldy going where no franchise has gone before. Now THAT’S a ship that deserves to be canon. I WOULD INVEST IN KIRK/SPOCK.

20. *Destiel, again: You know what. At the end of the day it doesn’t matter how low or high the odds are. There’s a CHANCE there will be a continuation one day and a CHANCE it will be reciprocated. We have to put our money into what we believe in sometimes, no matter how risky the odds… after all, who would have believed we’d get this far to begin with? I WOULD INVEST IN DESTIEL!!!!

#ask #kira for ts #anon incredible ask thanks so much.#shame this ask is already so long or I’d put in projected performance graphs #well. someone can always ask for that I guess. haha no don’t I have so much do to—#and other asks I DO need to reply to eventually (apologies ted lasso anon I HAVE gotten halfway through yours—)#don’t need to ts anything because every ship has been mentioned. great.#anonymous

347 notes · View notes

meemoze · 3 years ago

Text

Office Hours with a Supervillain

After getting really good feedback over ao3, I thought that I’d go on a limb and post it here for all my tumblr Otto enjoyers!

TW: mentions of blood and death: Slight belly kink and body worship: Teacher/student trope

{Chapter One}

The lecture hall was more or less silent save for the professor’s voice. A bored air hung above the students as half appeared either to be sleeping or using their phones. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t considered joining them.

Ah yes, Intro to Nuclear Physics. While the subject matter certainly seemed interesting, the actual execution of teaching such a subject in an engaging way to a lecture hall of first years unfortunately was easier said than done. If you were being honest, you felt bad. You could see how knowledgeable and passionate the professor was about the subject, but the complicated language and his teaching style made it extremely hard for his students to share in his enthusiasm. The professor in question was a man by the name of Dr. Otto Octavius: world class atomic and nuclear physicist. It made you wonder why a man with his credentials was stuck teaching a class of freshman, but you weren't on the academic board, so. Either way, there he was, in his crimson turtle neck scribbling out some hellish looking equations on the crowded chalkboard. You weren’t sure if he noticed that almost none of his students were actually paying attention to what he was saying, but you tried your best to follow him and at least look a little attentive. Despite the density of the subject and how difficult it was to understand, you wanted to try to understand.

This in itself was probably the biggest culture shock when coming to college. While there certainly were classes in highschool that you’d rather sleep through, you at least tried to be subtle about it. In college, as the stereotype goes, people just really don’t care.

“And this concludes chapter one, please keep in mind the quiz that will be on the 5th. If any of you find yourself stuck at all, please consider seeing me after class for office hours. The door is always open.”

Just like that, the lecture hall was filled with noise as students made their ways to the exit. You made your way through the lecture hall as well, however instead of the exit, you stopped at the doctor’s desk.

“Hey Dr. Octavius, how was the trade show?”

For the past couple weeks he had mentioned briefly before and after his lectures he would be attending some large technology trade show. A big event where rich guys could see the latest and greatest in tech. You remember seeing how his chocolate brown eyes lit up, smile lines emphasized, as he chatted about it. It was cute. Too bad no one was paying attention enough to see it. He turned at this from packing his things, a friendly smile gracing his face.

“Yes, it was quite exciting. It is good to see what advances my fellow colleagues are making in their respective fields”

While there was a large portion of excitement in his voice, you could make out a twinge of pride, the straightening of his posture not going unnoticed by you. You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.

This had become a bit of a routine

It only took one session for you to realize you would need to go to Doctor Octavius’s office hours if you even planned on passing this class. You even had considered dropping the class. But despite the intimidation (Dr. Octavius wasn’t exactly a small man), you forced yourself to talk to him after class. Despite your initial fears, your efforts were surprisingly met with understanding and even a little excitement.

“Do forgive me for my informality: I haven’t eaten anything this morning so I hope you don’t mind if I bring my lunch. Though I assure you, I will be just as qualified to help you with your questions''

He gave you an apologetic (but playful) smile, taking his trenchcoat under his arm while finding his place next to you.

“Don’t worry about it Doc, can’t have you wasting away on me, now can I”

This got a short chuckle and side glance out him as he took the lead out of the lecture hall. Had you mentioned how much shorter you seemed whenever he was next to you? Not that you really minded of course, but it definitely was something that you couldn’t ignore.

While a comfortable silence fell over you on your way to one of the study rooms, you spared a few glances at the older man. Despite the clear age gap, you couldn’t help but find him attractive. Curly soft chestnut locks framed his fuller slightly wrinkled face, prominent eyebrows complimented by a slightly hooked nose, and a fuller chubby body to tie the entire look together. It might be unprofessional thinking about your professor that way, but hey, you had working eyes didn’t you?

Luckily it didn’t take long to get to the room where you both typically went over work. Once an adequate studying area was found, you both set your things down and got situated. Lunch placed gingerly in front of himself, he brings your work to his face, adjusting his circular reading glasses. You simply wait patiently, enjoying how his face would scrunch and soften as he thought.

To save face, you pretend to attend to other homework you had.

It only took a few minutes for Otto to figure out what the issues were, you leaning closer to him to get a better look at his notepad as he explained the problems you were struggling with. Intently listening, you enjoyed the soft timbre of his voice as he scribbled on his notepad for you, stopping every now and then to make sure you were tracking a long.

“So while the effort is evident in your work, the devil is truly in the details. How about you work this problem here so I can make sure I explained the problems sufficiently”

With that, he nudges the notepad to you and attends to his lunch.

“I have some papers I need to look over for a project I am currently working on, so please let me know if you get stuck.”

His voice came out as a soft murmur, already focused on the work ahead of him, rummaging in his satchel and pulling out a hefty little folder. You hum a thanks and dig into the problem. Other than the stray inaudible grumble or the clink of metal against tupperware, it was quiet. However, every now and then you would spare a glance at the doctor.

One hand holding a blueprint, the other holding his fork, it was kind of comical watching as he juggled the two. Certainly more entertaining than the headache inducing problem you were working on. That is why as your eyes grazed over the older man looking for some distraction, they fell upon the doctor’s pronounced torso. You knew you were playing a dangerous game, but with the close proximity that these office hours seemed to involve, it was hard not to. His chest was just so soft looking, giving the doctor such a cuddly look. One couldn’t help but wonder how it’d feel to just bury your face in them.

All for science, of course.

On top of that, you could see how nicely his soft middle filled out his turtleneck, especially with how it pressed up against the edge of the table ever so slightly. If he wasn’t your professor, you would definitely try to find an excuse to get a hug out of him.

Eventually you had to peel your eyes away from your physics professor’s boobs and tummy and actually finish the problem you were supposed to be working on (the humanity). Luckily for you though, you were able to wrap up the rest fairly quickly. With the problem checked, you both fall into casual conversation.

“So what’s the project you’re working on?”

Eyes making their way to the bulging folder he was about to put in his bag. You were certainly curious with what exactly the man filled his time with besides tutoring subtly crushing students like yourself. At this, he looked down at his folder, as if to question if the contents of the folder were really the subject of your interests. It only lasted a moment however, as his chest puffed out slightly in pride. Something told you he had been secretly wanting you to ask.

“Well, the project I am currently working on is simply a vehicle to carry my true master project, but still quite fascinating nonetheless.”

Taking him opening the folder as your cue, you shuffle to meet him on the other side of the table. Reaching his side, he hands you an intricate blueprint, hand slightly grazing his.

“While I could harp all day on all the idiosyncrasy and details on my master project, to put it simply, I am attempting to sustain a fusion reaction to create a virtually inexhaustible energy source. And these”

At this, he points at the diagram in front of you.

“Will help me accomplish this.”

As you look over the paper, you could tell he was watching you. The diagram showed a diagram of a man wearing what looked like to be a belt harness with 4 tentacle-like appendages coming out from the back. In a lack of a better term, it looked fucking awesome.

“Woahhh, this is awesome! And you’re gonna wear this?”

You turn to look at him, handing him the plans gingerly, not wanting to damage them.

“When I’m stabilizing the fusion core, yes. And if everything goes right, I will be able to create sustainable energy for millions. As I’ve said before, technological advancement is the key to a better future.”

His face breaks into a smile as he stares out, conviction filling every word. You couldn’t help but join him.

While Otto was a solid 10 in your book just by virtue of his looks, this is what made the man truly attractive in your eyes. While he could have easily used his gifts to his own benefit, his real priority and driving reason was to help others.

“Well remember me when you’re all famous with your 5 noble prizes. Perhaps you could even share some of your wealth~? 400 dollars will suffice for now”

Head turned up in playful aloofness, hand outstretched as if you expected the money at that very moment. All the doctor did was give you a humored look, thick brow raising above his reading glasses ever so slightly.

“Is that so? You know, you’re quite the jokester. You should consider stand up if nuclear physics doesn’t end up working out for you.”

A sarcastic tone played on his lips, though you could see he was biting back a smile

“Well can’t blame a guy for trying. And I’m too lazy for that, sit down seems more up my alley.”

It was silent for what felt like an eternity, the man simply looking down at you. Hazel eyes and dark eyebrows quirked in confusion, reminding you of a deer when looking at an oncoming car. Standing there awkwardly, you were half tempted to fill the silence with a half hearted apology or witty quip. You didn’t think your joke was that ba-

However, to your surprise, the doctor’s face lit up with understanding. Face and eyes crinkling, the next thing you know, the sweetest cutest laugh fills the air. You could even make out a few snorts, despite the valiant effort to hide them. With that, the worry washed away from your face, a quiet relieved sigh making its way across your lips. You didn’t think the joke was that funny, but you wouldn’t ruin this moment for the world. There was just something about seeing such an imposing intelligent man break down into a gut busting laugh.

“Tha-that, just caught me off guard”

Otto struggled to regain his composure, wiping the gathering moisture from his eyes. When was the last time he had a proper night's sleep? He couldn’t even remember….

With a few stray laughs, you both made your way out of the area, unaware of the rain that had begun to pour heavily outside. Reaching the exit, however, the blast of cold air and rain that pelted your face definitely made you aware of the weather change.

“Dang it? For real?”

Annoyance coating your voice like the rain that now covered your face. Of course you had seen earlier that day warnings of rain, but did you actually listen? Of course not!

“Unfortunately I did not have the forethought to bring an umbrella”

Otto murmured, joining you in your annoyance. He had work to do and really couldn’t do it here. To put it simply, he did not have time for this.

“Well I’m not exactly the man with the plan either, so don’t beat yourself up too much about it”

You offer the doctor a smile, trying to lighten the mood somewhat. Just looking at him, you could practically hear the gears in his brain grinding.

“Well it’s certainly not an ideal solution…”

With a murmur, he took the trench coat from under his arm and opened it up. Ah yes, you see what he’s doing now. This is why he had the doctorate here, not you. Using his arms to lift the trench coat over his head, you open the door for him, moving a side so he could go through. You wished you had brought something a little more covering, though at least you had a larger backpack.

Starting to walk forward from under the oning, he stopped, seeing you pull your backpack over your head

“Y-you don’t have to do that. I would rather not have all your good work go to waste by being soaked after all.

One of the arms holding up the trenchcoat shifted aside, as if emphasizing his offer. A somewhat awkward smile made its way onto his face. You could tell that he was trying to be careful, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. Ah yes, the whole “teacher student” relationship thing. If only he knew how little you actually cared about that.

“Thanks doc, appreciate it!”

He didn’t need to know that your backpack was completely waterproof (a gift from your easily worried mother).

Ducking under his arm, you shift your backpack to the front to make more room for the both of you. The scent of rich coffee, books, and oil washed over you. It was certainly an interesting scent, but one you were quickly growing to like. Somehow it just fit him perfectly.

Despite the weather, you couldn’t help but smile walking out in the rain. The water splashed at both of your feet, the rain running off the back of the trench coat onto the ground below. Octavius was practically a walking space heater. A pink blush peppered your cheeks, your breath coming out in a weak puff of mist. It was cold, not unbearably so, but cold nonetheless. No one would question you tucking yourself closer to the doctor.

You were cold after all, nothing more…..

Tensing slight, Octavius subtly glancing down at you. Though you were curious to see the full reaction you got from him with your little move, you kept your eyes forward. Keep it casual. Eyes flicking back up, the doctor's tenseness melts away, replaced with a simple sigh. While Otto was not wise to your true feelings, he was aware of how you liked to push things. Rules. Norms. Expectations…. You were probably just cold anyways.

So then it came as no surprise to him that you pushed it further by getting even closer. Warmth spreads through you as you feel yourself sink slightly into his soft side. A giddy feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. Like a child doing something they knew they weren’t supposed to and getting away with it.

Unfortunately though, all good things have to come to an end. After leading you to your car, like a proper gentleman, you had to move from his side. (parting is such sweet sorrow…)

“Thanks for keeping me dry, maybe you can show me your project in person whenever you’re finished”

Raising your voice through the opened car window over the rain.

“Of course. If you’re truly interested in my work, you’re welcome to come by my lab. Viewing physics and engineering in a more visual way might make it more interesting.”

In between his fingers is a business card, a knowingly bitter look playing on his face.

Your excited smile slowly fell from: So he did know.

“Maybe. But I still find it interesting. It's even better when you can tell the professor is passionate about the subject and actually takes the time to make sure his students succeed.”

Maintaining eye contact the entire time, you gingerly take the card from him. The slight insecurity in his voice is not getting past you.

Eyes darting slightly, you could tell your comment took him by surprise. Mouth opening slightly, only for it to close. You seemed to have a knack of doing that. Eyes not leaving each other, the silence between you only grew as the poor doctor was trying to figure out what to say. “W-Well, of course, my work is my life, I would have not gotten so far in my field otherwise. But the door is always open, if you are ever interested.

Pride coating his words as the doctor tried to regain control over himself. While you were an attentive bright student, he couldn’t help but wonder if you only showed up to office hours just to get good with him.

“Will do. Have a good rest of the day Dr. Octavius.”

“You too.”

Through the wet car window, you watch as the man turns away, quickly shuffling over to his own car through the rain. Yes....you'd be taking him up on that little invitation

Here - Next

#Office Hours with a Supervillain #otto octavius x reader #doc ock x reader #professor otto octavius #otto octavius #doc ock #fanfic #Rami-universe #Spider Man 2 #otto octavius fanfiction #doc ock fanfiction

165 notes · View notes

atlabeth · 3 years ago

Text

everything happens for a reason part 6 - zuko x fem!reader

The thing about forever is that it's a fucking lie

part 5 | masterlist | part 7

a/n: you all know whats coming lmao i got nothing to say for myself

wc: 3.5k

warning(s): pakku's usual sexism, typical siege of the north stuff, mostly angst but a lil bit of fluff in there

chapter title comes from forever is a lie by bea miller!

“I can’t believe that your tribe doesn’t teach waterbending to women!” Katara fumed, the snow beneath her feet packed tightly from her continuous pacing. “I mean, how can they even do that? Master Pakku’s all about ‘his culture and his teachings’ but his teachings are completely sexist!”

Y/N just nodded along as she listened to Katara — Master Pakku had refused to teach Katara, and after a disappointing healing lesson she had found Y/N to rant. “Yep. It’s unfair, but there’s not much we can do about it.”

Katara frowned and stopped in her tracks. “Don’t you want to learn how to fight too? I love being able to heal and help people, don’t get me wrong, but healing isn’t all I want to do.”

A shaky sigh fell from her lips and she shrugged, adjusting her position on the platform of ice she had made to sit on. “Well… yeah, I guess. I know a couple of martial moves, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to know more. But Katara, I—”

Y/N was silent for a moment as flashes of the past played behind her eyelids. “I’m not like you. I’m not the kind of person to challenge the rules. Not anymore.”

Katara shook her head, already back to her pacing. “I think you’re selling yourself short. I saw your healing during your class — you’re really talented, Y/N, and I know that skill will transfer over to fighting.”

“Thank you, but— but it doesn’t matter how good we are. Master Pakku is just as stubborn as he is talented, and I think he’d rather die than be a decent person. It’s a shame though. I’d really like to see someone knock some sense into him.”

“Yeah…” Katara sighed. “Hopefully Aang is having a better time than I am.” She looked up at the sky then fixed Y/N with a wry smile. “Speaking of Aang, I should probably get back to him and my brother. Sorry for talking your ear off the whole night.”

Y/N waved her hand around nonchalantly. “Don’t worry about it. You have my permission to rant to me any time you want while you’re here.”

Katara grinned and offered her hand, which Y/N took with a small smile as she got up from her ice platform. With a slight movement of her hand she bent it back into the ground, and the two girls began their walk back to the city. “I just wish I knew how to get Pakku to let up.”

“You’ll think of something,” Y/N reassured.

Katara did indeed think of something. Y/N’s wish of Pakku getting some sense knocked into him was granted when Katara challenged him to a fight, which was quite possibly the best thing that Y/N had ever witnessed. Though she ultimately lost, he still decided to take her on as a student — and in a move that Y/N would forever be grateful for, Katara had gotten Pakku to take her on as well. Katara made history that day, and she felt a shining sense of admiration for the girl for shaking things up.

And now, her days consisted of early mornings spent training, afternoons in classes, and nights doing homework, as well as fitting in time to hang out with Yue — it was a miracle she had any free time at all.

Lately though, it seemed like all Yue could talk about was Sokka. She liked him just as much as he liked her, but Yue was good — no matter how much she cared for someone, her tribe would always come first.

(“Did I hear that you and Sokka have a date later tonight?” she teased. “Aren’t you moving a little too fast?” Yue was silent at her attempt at humor and Y/N frowned. “Yue, are you okay?”

Silence lingered in the air for so long that Y/N almost thought she didn’t hear her, but finally the princess spoke as she pulled down the collar of her jacket to reveal an engagement necklace. Y/N gasped.

“It’s from Hahn,” she said quietly. “He proposed an hour ago, and I accepted.”

“You what?” Y/N cried, prompting a slight grimace from Yue. “Hahn— you can’t stand him!”

“Y/N, please,” Yue sighed. “He’s not that bad — he’s handsome, I guess. And he’s the son of a noble, and he’ll be really good for the tribe.”

“Yue, you’re the one who has to deal with him. He proposed to you, not the tribe — Spirits, half the boys in this tribe like you, why him?”

“It’s best for the tribe,” she repeated, her words an attempt to convince Y/N as much as herself.

“But what’s best for you?” Y/N countered.

Yue hadn’t answered, and had made up some half-baked excuse that she had to be somewhere. She had watched her go sadly, hoping that she would figure something out with Sokka.)

And it’s not like she wasn’t happy that her friend had found someone, it was just…

Y/N was upset that someone wasn’t her. And she didn’t know how to deal with that revelation.

But one morning, while making idle conversation with Katara as their lesson came to an end, a matter much more pressing came to hand.

Black snow. Soot raining down from the sky, tarnishing everything it touched.

A feeling all too familiar brewed in her chest as she met her friend’s eyes, and one thing was clear.

The Fire Nation was coming.

The air was even more frigid than usual with the knowledge of an imminent invasion, and Y/N had parted ways with her friends once they reached the town hall to be with her grandparents. The tension in the air was thick as Chief Arnook stepped up to address the people.

“The day we have feared for so long has arrived — the Fire Nation is on our doorstep. It is with great sadness I call my family here before me, knowing well that some of these faces are about to vanish from our tribe, but they will never vanish from our hearts. Now, as we approach the battle for our existence, I call upon the great spirits. Spirit of the Ocean! Spirit of the Moon! Be with us! I'm going to need volunteers for a dangerous mission.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Sokka stood up. “Count me in.”

Her eyes widened as she met Katara’s from across the room, and she looked equally surprised. “Sokka…”

“Be warned: many of you will not return.” Several other men stood up after Sokka, including her grandfather. Despite his age he was a skilled fighter, but that was no comfort to Y/N. She reached up for his hand and shook her head almost desperately, but he smiled sadly and squeezed her hand, a sentiment to express words unsaid. “Come forward to receive my mark, if you accept the task.”

As he walked forward to join the line, she found the only solace she could in her grandmother’s open arms, burying her face in the fur of her jacket. “He will be okay,” she soothed. “He’s just as strong as he is brave. You have to have faith.”

She hoped that her grandmother was right. She couldn’t handle another loss.

Once all the men had received their marks, they left to confer about the battle plan. Y/N found her way up to the stage where a tearful Yue sat. It pained Y/N to see her in such a way, and when she sat down and offered her hand the princess immediately took it.

“I saw that your grandfather volunteered,” she said after a beat of silence. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. For Sokka.” Y/N adjusted her position so their shoulders were touching, and she sighed heavily. “I can’t stop thinking about my village. My father.” She met Yue’s eyes, her own beginning to tear up.

“What if it happens again?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I can’t— I can’t do it again.”

Yue let go of her hand to wrap the girl in a hug, the warmth of the embrace managing to chip away at some of their hopelessness. “You won’t have to do it again,” she stated, the reassurance seeming like the truth when coming from her. “You’re not alone this time.”

She finally pulled away from the hug as she wiped the tears off her face, and Y/N nodded. Yue somehow always knew exactly what to say. “What would I do without you?” she asked, her voice slightly watery.

“You’re never going to know,” the princess smiled. “Because whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with me.” That got a laugh out of Y/N and the two of them stood up as Yue gestured outside with her head. “I think I saw Aang and my father out there. It’ll help to talk with them — I think you need some fresh air anyways.”

Y/N nodded and the two girls walked out hand in hand, a small reprieve from carrying the weight of the world.

Things were so much worse than she had been anticipating.

After a short talk outside the hall with Katara, Aang, and the Chief, Yue had been transported somewhere safer as Y/N steeled herself for the front lines. After all, as a student of Master Pakku, she could fight damn well — it was just a matter of putting it into action.

But a line of warriors and children alike were no match for the strength of the Fire Nation from afar, and the first few fireballs had done their job at disrupting both the fighters and the wall — Seeing her home get destroyed hurt nearly as much as constantly getting thrown around.

After Aang had taken off on Appa and Chief Arnook took a section of his soldiers off for a different plan, the work on the ground began. The fleet of ships seemed endless , and the same went for their artillery — the fight went long into the day as Y/N worked with various other waterbenders to stop fireballs and repair broken parts of the city’s infrastructure, but just as the full moon began to show, the attacks stopped coming. Limbs heavy with exhaustion from their work in the field, Y/N and Katara met up with the princess back at the balcony of the palace.

“They’ve stopped firing,” Yue noted as they all gazed off into the distance.

“Thank the spirits,” Y/N muttered as she worked out a knot in her shoulder. “I don’t know how much longer I could’ve kept going.”

Just then, Appa came into view and a grin spread across Katara’s face. “Aang!”

He landed below them and the three girls hurried down to meet him. Aang landed on the ground, exhaustion clear in every part of him. “I can’t do it,” he muttered as he placed his head in his hands. “I can’t do it.”

“What happened?” Katara asked as she ran up to him, Yue and Y/N close behind.

“I must’ve taken out a dozen Fire Navy ships, but there’s just too many of them!” His large grey eyes were full of hopelessness, and Y/N’s heart ached for the boy. “I can’t fight them all.”

“But— you have to!” Yue pleaded. “You’re the Avatar.”

“I’m just one kid,” Aang countered wearily. He buried his face in his arms and Katara kneeled next to him in an attempt to comfort him. Y/N could almost forget about the pain in her body at that moment, feeling an odd responsibility to this boy as she looked down at him.

“Aang,” she muttered, following Katara’s example and kneeling next to him. “You’ve already done so much for us. Just by being here, you’ve inspired hundreds of people — you’re a beacon of hope all on your own! We don’t expect you to take out this whole navy by yourself. As long as you’re here, fighting with us? You’re helping us more than you know.”

He managed a slight smile at that and he took her outstretched hand, getting pulled back to his feet with her help.

“We’ll have a better view from up there,” Katara noted, pointing back up to the balcony. “You can help us keep watch, Aang — in case they start attacking again.”

He nodded and the four of them began the walk, the Avatar in slightly better spirits.

“The legends say the moon was the first waterbender,” Yue said once they had reached the balcony, all of them gazing at the sky. “Our ancestors saw how it pushed and pulled the tides and learned how to do it themselves.”

“I’ve always noticed my waterbending is stronger at night,” Katara mused, causing Y/N to hum in agreement.

“Our strength from the spirit of the moon, our life from the spirit of the ocean,” she said. “They work together to keep balance.

Aang’s expression brightened at her words as he popped up from the ground. “The spirits! Maybe I can find them and get their help!”

“How can you do that?” Y/N questioned.

“The Avatar is the bridge between our world and the Spirit World,” Katara explained excitedly. “Aang can talk to them!”

“Maybe they’ll give you the wisdom to win this battle!” Yue exclaimed.

“Or maybe they'll unleash a crazy amazing spirit attack on the Fire Nation!” At that, all three girls met him with strange looks. Aang coughed and straightened his posture. “Or wisdom. That's good, too.”

“The only problem is, last time you got to the Spirit World by accident,” Katara said with a frown. “How are you going to get there this time?”

Yue’s eyes lit up and she looked at them with a smile. “I have an idea. Follow me.”

A few minutes later, they were standing in the Spirit Oasis, the most spiritual place in all of the North. Yue, Y/N, and Katara all shed their coats as Aang walked around, marvelling at the beauty.

“I can feel… something,” Aang said as he sat down, getting into a meditating position. “It’s so tranquil.”

Soon enough, after a few moments of silence, Aang’s eyes as well as the arrow on his head began to glow.

“Is he okay?” Yue gasped.

“He’s crossing into the Spirit World,” Katara reassured. “He’ll be fine as long as we don’t move his body. That’s his way back to the physical world.”

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Y/N whispered, astonishment etched into her face. For as much as she had been taught about the ocean spirits, she wasn’t well-versed in the Spirit World as a whole — she was thoroughly fascinated by every part of this.

“Maybe we should get some help,” Yue suggested, still on edge as she took a few steps away from the gate.

“No, he’s my friend. I’m perfectly capable of protecting him. Besides, I already have some help here.” She smiled at Y/N, a sentiment that she returned happily.

A deep voice, almost mocking, broke the silence as it echoed throughout the oasis. “Well, aren’t you a big girl now? Even got yourself a little student.”

The three girls all whipped around to find the source of the voice, and Katara’s whole body stiffened. “No…”

“Yes. Hand him over and I don’t have to hurt you.”

Y/N immediately eased into a bending stance along with Katara as the princess fled to get help, but her confidence faltered when she took the time to focus on their assailant.

She almost didn’t recognize him — it had been nearly four years since she had last set eyes upon the boy, but it was as if he had become a completely different person. His head was shaved completely save for a ponytail, and blues and reds marked his skin in various cuts and bruises. His eyes held an anger she had never seen before, an expression only heightened with the addition of a large red scar across his left eye.

“Zuko?” she breathed, her chest tightening up beneath the weight of the revelation. Katara stared at her in bewilderment — she had no idea that Y/N knew the prince that had chased them halfway across the world, but Katara supposed that she had no reason to ever suspect she did.

His eyes flashed with recognition as they ran over her, and it seemed as if he had a similar epiphany as he staggered backwards. “I… I thought you were dead.”

“You’re with them,” she muttered, blood turning to ice. “Your nation is invading, and you’re helping them— you’re after the Avatar? What are you doing, Zuko?!”

The momentary surprise was replaced by steely determination as he shifted his weight forward and kicked up his leg, sending a blast of fire that she barely managed to dodge. “You know nothing!”

Y/N fell back into position next to Katara, but the newfound knowledge was like a fog over her mind. “Whoever he was when you knew him, that’s not him anymore!” Katara yelled as she bent water out of the pond and blocked his following attacks. “He won’t hesitate to hurt you, so you can’t either!”

“O-okay!” she stammered. This was the moment she had been waiting for, wasn’t it? After training with both Katara and Pakku, her martial skill had increased tenfold, and she was desperate to try it out — she only wished her first opponent didn’t have to be him. But another fire blast snapped her out of her paralysis, and she jumped into action.

The two girls worked impossibly well together, one stepping forward when the other fell back, the bending between them nearly seamless. Any fire that the prince sent their way was quickly extinguished, and with two against one on home turf, Y/N and Katara were able to hold him off with relative ease.

Y/N bent another jet of water up from the oasis and shot it at Zuko, the force of which knocked him several feet back. Katara took the opening and froze his feet to the ground, then began to move her arms about as she formed a ball of water around him — one more movement and it was frozen solid.

“You little peasant,” he growled. “You’ve found a master, haven’t you?”

The orb of ice began to glow, the air around them becoming hotter and hotter until it melted around him. Blasts of fire were flying at them as soon as Zuko hit the ground, and they were forced to retreat back towards the oasis as they grew more intense.

Y/N drew up a shield of water, extinguishing the flames on impact. Zuko dodged around them, his fingers inches away from Aang’s collar. Y/N propelled the water already at her fingertips towards Zuko with a grunt of effort, which sent him flying into the shallows on the other side of the oasis. She conjured up a large wave and sent it towards the prince, sending him up the side of the wall and trapping him once Katara froze it.

She breathed a sigh of relief and let her arms fall, a part of her wondering how they were still connected after the tediousness of the earlier battle. But this, one on one in a fight with real stakes? It was as exhilarating as it was nerve wracking, and she had never been so thankful that Katara had gotten her in with Master Pakku. Y/N felt intensely guilty over the pain she had inflicted on Zuko, but she tried her best to push it out of her mind — like Katara said, he would’ve done worse if she hadn’t fought back.

“You fought well,” Katara smiled. “I told you that you were talented.”

She chuckled and shrugged, cheeks heating up slightly at the praise. “It’s not exactly my first fight, just… the most intense.” It reminded her of the early mornings and late nights spent sparring with Zuko, a memory that only twisted the dagger in her heart even more.

The two girls smiled at each other as they began to walk back over to Aang — it seemed the boy was undisturbed by the fight by virtue of his glowing tattoos and closed eyes — when Y/N found herself squinting from the rays of light filtering in.

“Huh,” she mumbled. “The sun’s out. The sun’s out— Katara!”

Y/N turned to find the prince free from the ice, and the pair barely had time to draw water from the pond to shield themselves from the impending flames. But it was too little too late, and the power of the blast sent them back several feet. They slammed into either side of the gate, the force of it immediately knocking Katara out.

Y/N gasped in pain as she tried to push herself up, but the fight combined with the impact of her landing had taken a toll on her and she collapsed once more against the gate. When the smoke from the fire cleared, Zuko was there with Aang’s collar in his grasp.

“You rise with the moon,” he muttered, his face tinged with the slightest bit of guilt as he met her eyes. “I rise with the sun.”

The last thing she saw before her consciousness faded out was the boy she loved escaping with the Avatar.

why did i make yue and y/n like this when i KNOW what i have to write next omg i hate myself

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

ehfar: @chandies-sideblog @persica27 @anzanity @randomthingssss @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @shanksfav @shephard17895 @ilovespideyyy

atla: @marianne1806

#zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #zuko x reader fic #zuko #zuko fic #avatar #atla #avatar the last airbender #atla fic #avatar fic #avatar the last airbender fic #avatar x reader #sadie writes #ehfar #i already had this chapter half written so thats why its out so soon lmao #SOMEONE doesnt know how to hold their chapters and wants to release them as soon as she finishes them #its me. im someone

358 notes · View notes

xiao-cafe · 4 years ago

Text

money sense — zhongli oneshot

pairing: zhongli x gn!reader tags: fluff, established crush on zhongli and everyone knows except him, a little bit of crack, ambiguous ending but it’s not sad summary: funds are running low so aether dumps zhongli at your door one day and asks you to teach the man how to haggle. wc: 1.3k

It was a little past three in the afternoon when Aether arrived at your door with Paimon, screeching incessantly. Startled by the sudden intrusion, you emerged from your workroom to see a familiar trio by your door.

Your heart skips a beat when your gaze lands on Zhongli, standing beside Aether while engaging Paimon in what could only be described as a one-sided argument. You take a few seconds to calm yourself down whilst also finding amusement in the trio’s predicament.

Before you could even raise a hand in greeting, you get interrupted by Paimon.

“We have no money left!” Paimon cried, clutching dramatically at her little head. “Y/N! Please teach this guy how to haggle, you’re the only one we know who’s the best at getting discounts!” Clinging onto you, the guide points an accusatory finger at Zhongli, with an angry pout on her face.

Aether nodded along furiously, crossing his arms as he sighed heavily while looking at Zhongli who seemed to not be the least bit bothered by their lack of Mora. Certainly, being an ex-god, the man had his quirks.

One that was simply unacceptable for a group of travellers.

Lack of money sense.

“Please Y/N, we’ve seen you haggle at the harbour and getting nearly half off,” Aether said earnestly, admiration shining in his eyes. It took you less than a second to remember what he was talking about. No doubt, he was referring to the time you spent almost an hour at Xigu Antiques, bargaining as if your life depended on it.

Unsure of whether you should be embarrassed or flattered you simply put both your hands up in surrender while ignoring the subtle rise of blush on your cheeks when you meet Zhongli’s strong gaze. The man nods his head at you in greeting and you hastily nod back, hoping that you didn’t look too eager when you did so.

“I’m flattered, but are you guys sure you’d want me to teach him how to haggle?” You ask, tearing your eyes away from Zhongli’s face as you spoke directly to Aether.

“Please.” Aether and Paimon say simultaneously, in all seriousness. It was almost comical, the way Aether and his guide were absolutely in sync for once.

“I agree, I believe haggling is part and parcel of Liyue Harbor’s culture and learning such a skill would certainly become a benefit.” Zhongli’s deep voice resonated easily in your small home.

You realised that your guests had been politely standing by the entrance, save for Paimon who was always quick to break a few rules. Heat rose to your face as you gestured for them to come in.

“P-please come right in! I’ll make some tea right now!” You stumbled across your words, embarrassed that you had forgotten your manners. As you were about to make your way to the kitchen and make tea, a warm gloved hand lands on your forearm, holding you in place.

“It’s fine, Y/N. It was our fault for intruding upon you.” Zhongli assured, his sweet half-smile causing your heart to race.

You nod meekly, not trusting yourself to speak without stuttering. You rubbed at your skin where Zhongli had touched, feeling the goosebumps that emerged.

“Then I guess we’ll leave him to you then, Y/N!” Paimon announced gleefully. The little guide floats towards your face and leans in to whisper in your ear.

“Good luck!” Paimon whispers, winking secretively.

Rather than luck, you wished you’d have a stronger heart.

“I believe these tomatoes are of the highest quality. Fresh and grown with care, these tomatoes are suitable for Y/N’s diet. Farming is a skill honed with years of experience as such I will buy all your tomatoes.”

You wanted nothing more than to knock yourself unconscious with the nearest pillar.

It had been an hour since you began your shopping trip with Zhongli for groceries. It was supposed to be a simple lesson, teaching him how to pick which store to buy from and how to obtain a discount from the store.

Yet, Zhongli and his infinite knowledge were attempting to burn a hole through your wallet.

“Stop!” You throw the vendor an apologetic smile and drag Zhongli away by the arm.

“Zhongli... We’re supposed to be buying only what we need, and obtaining a discount.” You explained once more, hoping he’d understand. “I understand you hold great respect for excellent farmers but this,” You gesture to your wallet, “Has only 500 Mora.”

You hear a snicker behind your back and immediately lower your head, shoving your wallet back into your pockets.

Zhongli was quiet for a moment as he stared at you intensely. You were beginning to wonder if you had something on your face.

“I see... It was my mistake. I’ve only been seeing things in the perspective of a seller’s ideal customer. Please continue to teach me how to haggle, I am certain I will do better this time around.” He said, “So, please continue the lesson... Y/N Sensei.” Chuckling to himself, you watch Zhongli head back to the store with your face bright red and your mind short-circuiting from the witnessing Zhongli’s laugh.

An inexplicable warmth bloomed in your chest as you jogged to catch up to Zhongli.

“Pardon me, but I’d like to buy 5 tomatoes,” Zhongli said, glancing over to you. You nodded and smiled back at him, encouraging him to continue.

“That’d be 600 Mora.”

Boring your gaze onto Zhongli’s side profile, you could only hope that he had learned from his previous mistake.

“My partner here only has 500 Mora, would it be alright if you’d lower the price for them please?”

You smack your face into your hands, sinking to the floor. The mention of yourself being Zhongli’s partner barely made it through your mind as the barely-contained giggles from the vendor filled your ears.

“I-I’m sure... I can make ah... ha... an exception t-today.” The vendor managed to get out.

“Y/N, he agreed to the discount,” Zhongli stated, satisfaction practically rolling off of him in waves.

Through the gaps of your fingers, you see Zhongli turn and pause. Possibly because you were crouched on the floor and he had no idea what he had just done.

“Do you not have 500 Mora? I thought you-”

Unable to take it any longer, you stand up quickly and hand the money over, receiving your bag of tomatoes in exchange.

“Thank you...” You mumbled to the vendor, red-faced, holding on tightly to your bag of tomatoes.

“My pleasure! I wish both of you happiness!” The vendor grinned.

Before you could protest, Zhongli had intercepted.

“Thank you for your kind words.” He replied, graciously accepting the handshake offered by the vendor. Shaking your head in disbelief, you chuckled to yourself as a form of comfort and took upon the chance to gaze upon Zhongli unabashedly while he was distracted.

As the hustle and bustle of Liyue Harbor reached its evening peak, the setting sun cast a warm glow against the city, illuminating everything within reach, golden.

Yet, your focus was only on him.

Everything about him ensnared your senses and forced you to only look at him.

His dark hair that faded to ombre at the tips shone a bright gold in wisps and his eyes that seemed to hold an abundance of intellect and mysteries only made you fall for him more.

You let out an appreciative sigh, unaware that Zhongli’s conversation with the vendor had long since ended.

“Y/N?”

You blinked a few times, snapping out of your trance.

“I think we’ll end today’s lesson here.” You hastily respond, giving Zhongli a warm smile. “You did well.”

“Naturally. I was taught by the best.” He replied smoothly. “Though, I think I much prefer to call you partner rather than Sensei... I guess imitating Childe wasn’t for me.” He muttered, resting his chin between his pointer finger and thumb.

You could only laugh as he fell into deep thought.

Surely, one day you’d have the confidence to let him know about your feelings.

“Then I’ll head home first, Zhongli.”

“Of course, goodbye Y/N.”

As you waved goodbye to him, you could only think about the next time you’d see him again.

end.

This is my first genshin impact fic and it’s for geo daddy who still refuses to come home. anyways, hope you guys enjoy this one-shot and feel free to raid my inbox lol i’m looking for mutuals on here :3c

#genshin impact #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli scenarios #zhongli imagines #aether #paimon #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin zhongli #zhongli-cafe-writes

498 notes · View notes