#I’m not being hyperbolic when I say I literally can’t do anything right

[halliewriteshockey]

It sure is fun being told I’m the reason sales are down

[shoobiie]

Cinderella's Castle Has ONE MAJOR FLAW

Very very spoiler-filled stream of consciousness below the cut:

Obviously, I sing my praises for 99% percent of the elements of this show. The cast, the costumes, the music, and so on. Starkid really knows how to make a banger musical. 

However, there was one glaring flaw that I just can’t overlook. The main character does not do ANYTHING. Okay, so that’s a hyperbole, but it’s closer to the truth than I would like. Throughout the narrative of Cinderella’s Castle, Ella is a passive onlooker in her own story, only moved by the whims of other characters. She lacks agency and a definable personality. 

Let’s review: Ella spends most of the first act at the beck and call of the Stepmother and Stepsisters while pleading repeatedly with other townsfolk and nobles to take her away from this life. She doesn’t dare to run away on her own; instead, she relies on the kindness of others to get her out of her situation. She asks an old friend to save her, and he refuses; she asks the prince to save her, but he doesn’t, and when someone finally does give her an opportunity to escape, they are killed. What does Ella do after that? After losing two of her only friends and her best shot at freedom? Nothing. She just goes back to obeying the Stepmother. The only time I can recall that Ella makes a decision for herself is when she spares Sir Hop-A-Lot. It is decisive inaction, which isn’t much, but I’ll count it. 

She accidentally summons the Fairy Queen, and when asked what she wants most, she says, “Revenge”. I was starting to get hopeful at this point that maybe this is where we’d see a turn in the narrative where Ella begins to stand up for herself and stop relying on others. However, when she attends the ball, it’s clear that she doesn’t have an actual plan and is just kind of going along with it as the prince tries to woo her. When asked if she wants to be queen, she says she doesn’t know. Then, she has a whole song about realizing that she will accept leadership if it means defeating the stepmother. I’m not sure why she couldn’t just want to be Queen. I’ve found that often women characters are punished for being ambitious and for desiring power. But if she has no intention of abusing her power and instead wants to use it to protect the people from harm and bring evil to justice, why can’t that be something she aspires to? Does a reluctance to be powerful mean that someone is a better leader? I think it’s worth pondering. 

Of course, her plans to marry the prince are foiled by the stepmother, and Ella is attacked! What does she do? She stands there and watches! No attempt to fight back or diffuse the situation. When she loses the slipper and her magical protection, she returns home. I’ll ignore how stupid that decision is because I do think it is necessary for the plot, but it does exemplify exactly how passive Ella is. (Passive here is being used as a literary term, not just a character trait.) Moving right along, The Stepmother discovers Ella’s deceit and cuts off her feet. What does Ella do? Fight back? Nope. Try to persuade or trick the stepmother? No. Maybe try to appeal to her stepsisters to help her? No. She just wails, bleeds out, and dies.

I didn’t even realize she’d died when I watched it; I just thought she’d passed out. It was such a pathetic ending for the character. She didn’t DO anything. Of course, she comes back later, thanks to the Fairy Queen’s magic. She doesn’t save herself or take any actions that lead to her ultimate revival; it all happens because of luck and other characters. She does kill the Stepmother. Returning to life wearing armor and practical boots instead of slippers, she looks like a warrior. So again, I was disappointed as her coup de grace was literally just standing there as the Fairy Queen’s magic ultimately kills the Stepmother. The problem here is that in her own story, Ella is completely replaceable. There is nothing about Ella on which the story hinges. Any other woman could have done what Ella did and be the Fairy Queen's vessel of starlight. 

This stands in stark contrast to a character like Grace Chastity, who, while flawed and misguided, was an incredibly active force in her own narrative. Grace repeatedly makes strong decisions that move the story forward, like trying to kill Max, trying to cover up his death, going on the run from the police, and making the ultimate sacrifice. It’s easy to list Grace’s character traits: pious, stubborn, self-assured, annoying, etc. The list goes on and on. She’s terrible, and I love her so much. If I were to try to list Ella’s character traits, I’d say she’s hopeful, just, kind, and naive. This interpretation doesn’t add anything new or exciting to Ella. As someone who has seen at least five different versions of Cinderella, I was expecting this version of her character to be more interesting than Selena Gomez or Hilary Duff, but I can't say that she was.

In Cinderella (2015), Ella is a very passive character, but it works with the themes and motivations of the character. Her motto is ‘have courage and be kind,’ highlighting the fact that it takes strength not to stoop to the level of your tormentors. She doesn’t want revenge; she simply wants to live a life surrounded by the same kindness that she shares with others. And that’s valid! Not every woman needs to be a warrior. Sometimes, unrelenting gentleness can be a heroic enough trait to make a character memorable. 

But in Cinderella’s Castle, she is a muddled mix of motivations. She wants revenge, but she doesn’t take action to get it. She dresses like a warrior and talks like a warrior but never fights. She was raised to be a noble and ends up as a queen, yet we never see her use diplomacy to get what she wants. And she doesn’t use cunning or creativity either. 

I will credit Jeff Blim for using the songs to add some life to Ella’s character. “Step on Your Grave” shows us just how passionate Ella is about getting revenge. “Last For Ever” talks about painting and dreaming of a better life. I don’t know if the painting aspect of the song should be taken literally since there are no other mentions of Ella being interested in art as far as I know. But it does give us an indication that Ella is someone who spends her time thinking about the future and what she thinks it should look like. 

Of course, all of this needs to be taken with a grain of salt. I only saw this show once, nearly a month ago. The rush of seeing it live meant that I probably forgot some key moments, and I could not hear most of the lyrics for the songs since the band was rather loud. However, I have been listening to the demos to get a better idea. I am hoping that on the rewatch, I’ll find more moments of agency from Ella or lines that give me a better indication of her character.

I’m really sad that Bryce wasn’t given a character as memorable and badass as she deserves. That being said, Bryce’s performance did breathe so much life and likeability into Ella. I just hope that in the future, especially if Starkid does more fairytale retellings, they don’t shy away from making strong decisions that change the main character from the original fairytale. If the stepmother can be a literal troll, then Cinderella can be a clever, manipulative, revenge-driven diplomat born and raised to assume power with grace and poise.

[thenamessparkplug]

The Bad, The Worse, and The Downright Idiotic

A Wiatt Nicholson Analysis

YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG I HAVE WAITED TO VERBALLY KILL THIS DUDE. I HAVE BEEN STRANGLING HIM WITH MY MIND SINCE THE COLLAPSE OF THE BUILDING. AND THIS IS WHY.

DISCLAIMERS!! : One, I have absolutely nothing against any of the writers on this show! You all are doing a fantastic job for how small this series is and I do genuinely adore the work you guys do < 3. Second, I want to make it clear that I do not condone anything Sara has done on her own terms. And she has done bad things on her own terms. She has done horrible things and I do not think that should be brushed under the rug. I do, however, believe her to be redeemable. 

(side note I did get a lil sidetracked when talking about sara, whom I also have strong feelings towards and'll prolly get her own rant in the future)

What has Wiatt done?

Now Wiatt seems to have his heart in the right place, however good intentions hardly amount to much when your actions directly cause death, suffering, and irreversible damage.  

He can’t tell that so much of what’s going on is because Litho knows he’s going to lead people directly into his own plans. This especially became evident in the last episode. Did he not remember the risks of anything relating to Litho?? Why on earth would he think it was safe for Pen, Lisa, or even Hayden whom narrowly survived? 

I know by this point to take everything character’s say with a grain of salt (and I know this isn’t directly Wiatt’s fault either), but I really wanna get into what Hayden said while yelling at Wiatt. He states that since he arrived at dreamworld, someone has gone missing every week. Wiatt has worked here for at least a year. Even considering taking a month off for the collapse fiasco, that is 47 weeks. 47 people. THAT IS INSANE. Even cutting that number in half for hyperbole’s sake that’s still 23 missing people since Wiatt started. Jesus christ man. 

What else has he done? He broke Starlight after recklessly jumping into a hole, got wtdw!rainbott seemingly mindwiped, recorded entirely private and frankly unrelated moments and UPLOADED them, been responsible for the deaths of his coworkers (to name a few anyways), and what does he have to show for it? A police station that thinks he’s insane. He couldn’t possibly have been more tactless trying to convince them to begin an investigation. 

It seems he thinks that because the people he’s against are bad, that automatically makes him good - in the right - but he is so blinded by his sense of a binary wrong and right he fails to see the horrible things he himself has caused. 

Against the Antagonist

I wanna talk about Sara for a second. From what we’ve learned thus far, and I know we haven’t gotten all that many Sara scenes, almost all of what Sara does seems to be attempting to clean up a mess she made many years ago, in comparison to Wiatt who does absolutely nothing but stir the pot.

Sara is stuck here; she is bound to Litho and cannot escape no matter how hard she wants to. She had friends. She’s doing what Litho wants because she has to. We saw what happened when she tried to defy him. Wiatt is only here because of one connection, but could literally leave whenever he wants no harm no foul.

Now the Norman thing I am curious about, because so far, I can’t figure out why 1. she killed him in the first place and certainly 2. why she kept the footage of it. She never seemed to hate Norman, if anything she would be against him for clearly being infatuated with Andrew, and I can’t really blame her for that? I mean nothing is enough to justify murder, but it wouldn’t be in cold blood. I’m also assuming this is before Dreamworld Entertainment due to the fact that Norman seemingly had no involvement. Another odd thing not only was he rebuilt to look exactly like he did when he was alive, but he retained all of his memories as well, and was given a higher power among the staff of Watchful Eye Toys, with memory control himself.

Whatever happened during his death must have been important.

But back to Wiatt. All of Sara actions, albeit terrible, were calculated and she did what she believed was necessary. Wiatt has no concept that his actions have consequences, so all he does is messy things up, making everything far worse than it needed to be.

Why should I care? (Comparison to Eric)

At the very beginning when Eric is first introduced, we are given no reason to care at all about him. I mean, we know he was friends with Lewis but that’s not enough to really grow any attachment to him. We start learning little facts about him, but when it really clicks is during the secret tapes.

Seeing Eric outside of the main plot, his real personality, his hopes, his dreams, his struggles starting from a young age up until how he is today. We’re given the chance to build connections with him and see him as a real person, a character with depth. Knowing his motivations and what built him makes it so easy to grow extremely attached, making any horrific things hit much harder.

Now moving back to Wiatt, we really don’t get to see the real him. We see him once interacting with Lewis, but even that was simply for plot relevance. We really know nothing about him. Even his transition, which would be so easy to capitalize on seeing as the viewership of Dreamworld is highly LGBTQ+, and many people would relate. But we get more about Mike’s transition than Wiatt, and he’s only ever had one real scene as himself.

That’s not even dipping into who Wiatt is as a person. What are his passions? Who are his loved ones outside of just Lewis? What was school like for him? What got him into the mechanic business? Who took care of him after his parents died? I understand this can be hard to smoothly integrate into a story but look how well it worked with Eric’s tapes.

Now this is getting much more into the writing side of the show, but I think something that's kind of lacking is character building filler. As much as having a concise plot is nice, without scenes or even full episodes dedicated to fleshing out our cast, it makes it really difficult to connect.

There’s so so much of his character to explore that we just never get into, and it kinda makes it hard to root for him when there’s nothing backing his character. Just like, a few more tapes of Wiatt would be plenty, something outside of Lewis. I would love to see his relationships with other characters (you cannot build a sense of character off one single relationship), how he views himself, just anything.

Its incredibly difficult to analyze a character when they seemingly have no depth.

In Conclusion

I am not a fan of Wiatt as it currently is (understatement of the year), but good god am I persuadable. I just want Dreamworld to give me a reason to root for him. Something to sympathize with, relate to. Have him improve. Allow him to realize his mistakes, and become a better person for that.

I don’t think he’s a lost cause.

But give me a reason to believe that.

[bhnsby]

I hate the argument that Heather hiding the immunity idol was stupid and she was really dumb that season because,, she’s pretty much always run on luck and in the moment decisions? She’s good at manipulating a situation in the moment but she’s not Alejandro smart. If it was Alejandro that did this I’d get the argument but I don’t think it’s that bad for Heather.

I mean all of season one she glided through on luck. Yeah she was smart for making alliances but she lost due to kicking the razor out of Chefs hand out of panic. The talent show episode is enough proof because what was the need other than to fuck with Gwen? There was no strategy here she was just being classic heather.

Once again in action she’s not even smart she purely makes it as far as she does because other people where more hated than her eg. Gwen and DJ quitting off his own accord.

World tour she plays better but even then there was like 3 times she should’ve been voted off but didn’t because of luck. She’s not a bad player she just doesn’t have very good foresight, and that’s always been pretty consistent with her.

Arguably she seems to play the best (other than maybe world tour I guess but hear me out here let me be hyperbolic) in All Stars. She tries to work Gwen to get an ally, and the only notable enemy she makes is Jo. Someone more hated than she is. If anything that’s a kind of smart move to play, since as we quite literally see her entire team hates Jo more than her. It could also work well on the heroic team since it’s made up of 4/6(by the time Lindsay’s eliminated) of roti members, all of which probably hate Jo. Her being enemies with Jo would probably get someone like Cameron on her side. I know they all act fearful of her in roti but with world tour I can imagine people like Zoey to take somewhat of an appreciation to her, especially if she’s going against Jo.

Another thing to back up roti siding with heather over Jo any day is who they both go for when trying to recruit different members of their team. Heather goes straight for lighting because he hates Jo and that’s an easy win over, and Jo goes.. for scott. Arguably one of it not the only person in all stars to tolerate her due to this unspoken respect they have for each other that I have spoken about and will speak about again. If the other roti members hate Jo then they all LOATHE Scott. So that’s already looking bad for her. What was I saying? Oh Heather not being hella derailed in all stars.

So she says she can’t walk around with it because someone will see which is like.. yeah. That’s right. So she hides it which is pretty smart. Then she tells Alejandro. Which as for mentioned she doesn’t have very good foresight so she’s gloating that she has this over Alejandro, making him hopefully scared and then less tactful and good at playing the game. To her she’s just rubbing in his undeniable elimination, which is a very Heather thing to do, especially to Alejandro. It’s not smart but it’s also not that bad derailment.

Overall she’s just.. not that bad? I’m kinda shocked at her this season, and might actually put her with Jo and Lightning on the derailment tracker of her being pretty unscathed. This is definitely her weakest season but that’s partly just because her previous seasons were SO GOOD. Anyway heather is my favourite character and I’ll talk about her more eventually

[ghxstgvrlx]

Alright.

I have a list.

Therapy.

Doctor.

Job.

Move to a bigger apartment in 1 year because I really just feel suffocated, I really just need space.

Try to keep it light and relax and remember to stay grounded, feet on the ground. On earth.

Remember to just breathe. Nothing is that serious. Try not to creep people out by just being angry and misguided in some ways when you’re like this. You know what you mean but you have to be so careful how you say things because this isn’t a movie. This is real life, it’s fine to romanticize things you might feel the need to but you have to remember just the reality of life that you usually do.

Probably meds of some sort. I think it’s time to try again.

Get close to family.

Distance from anything too heavy rn. Don’t play around with such serious stuff, you know you don’t mean it but no one else does. You don’t have a great track record with being stable. Sometimes people just like fucking with you because they know they can in the moment. You know you’re intentions, find a way to get you’re points across and you’re desires for your future clear and maybe stay away from anything that might make things worse. It’s gonna get better, remember when you’re normal you’re fine. You just have to be a little more careful than others to remember to stay grounded and articulate. No more saying things you know you don’t mean just to feel something. Numb and sad and frustrated is fine. But scary however is a lot less savory and a lot less easy for people to back up. If you want help and real true help that your logical mind knows you need, you need to separate yourself from some art and music at this point and time. You may like aesthetics for fun but the world is serious. Bad things happen to people and it’s not fair. Nothing is fair. You really need to not joke about things you will regret later. In your logical mind, when you’re not ultra depressed and lonely, you know what you’re joking about is wrong. You hate it when you say stuff like that, something infiltrated your mind and doesn’t belong there. You’re not really reaching out for real help, so you’re really only gonna find things you don’t need or want. Just breathe. It’s okay. Breeeeattheeee

There will be a time where I look back on feeling this low and feeling like “you said what?” “You didn’t actually say that did you?” “You know better.” “You know you’re a good person in your heart and you don’t want to hurt anyone or yourself, you’re just tired of being hurt.” And don’t share anything you KNOW you don’t mean.

I find myself spiraling sometimes and once I follow a rabbit hole I get deeper and more brainwashed and it takes longer to be like Jesus Christ dude stop.

I’ll probably delete this. But I really don’t wanna make the same mistakes as last time. Just keep your head on straight and try to just focus on healing and getting better and in a better situation.

And please for anyone actually reading this, don’t take me literally. I don’t mean half the shit I say right now. I’m just frustrated with my life. That doesn’t mean the world is ending. lol it’s not. The world is just fine. I’ll just focus on fixing MY problems, that’s the only way to actually accomplish anything real for yourself.

Also there are people wiling to help and be your genuine friend. Stop pushing them away. You’re not scary. lol which is why you’re doing what you’re doing. You’re afraid you’re gonna get hurt and someone will break your heart when it’s already broken. The people who know you know what’s wrong and know what you mean. Stay off the fucking internet and try not to spiral deep into the abyss.

I saw some good advice that stuck earlier about saying hyperboles more often when you want to say something maybe a bit edgy or a bit concerning lol I needed to hear that, thank you.

There’s just like wayyyy too many possibilities and toxic shit online and irl that pull people who are lost into a place they can’t come back from. Those aren’t your thoughts and you know it. Don’t let anyone pray on you to go to an extreme place. You don’t need to be extreme. You’re perfectly fine being your chill and level headed sweet self. Let people see that. That’s better than some edgy bullshit that causes real people to hurt deeply. Be genuine, not scared. You’re okay. No one is going to hurt you. Just get in a better position to where you can protect yourself against the shit you put yourself through. Choose more wisely.

I don’t like who I’ve become tonight. I’m gonna need help not to do it again. It’s not okay. And I’m sorry.

[wolfstar-in-color]

July Colorful Column: Remus is a Crip, and We Can Write Him Better.

There is one thing that can get me to close a fic so voraciously I don’t even make sure I’m not closing other essential tabs in the process. It doesn’t matter how much I’m loving the fic, how well written I think it is, or how desperately I want to know how it ends. Once I read this sentence, I am done.

It’s written in a variety of different ways, but it always goes something like this: “You don’t want me,” Remus said, “I am too sick/broken/poor/old/[insert chosen self-demeaning adjective here].”

You’re familiar with the trope. The trope is canonical. And if you’ve been around the wolfstar fandom for longer than a few minutes, you’ve read the trope. Maybe you love the trope! Maybe you’ve written the trope! Maybe you’re about to stop reading this column, because the trope rings true to you and you feel a little attacked!

Now, let’s get one thing out of the way right now: I am not saying the trope is wrong. I am not saying it’s bad. I am not saying we should stop writing it. We all have things we don’t like to see in our chosen fics. Maybe you can’t stand Leather Jacket Motorbike Sirius? Maybe you think Elbow Patch Remus is overdone? Or maybe your pet peeves are based in something a little deeper - maybe you think Poor Latino Remus is an irresponsible depiction, or that PWPs are too reductive? Whatever it is, we all have our things.

Let me tell you about my thing. When I first became very ill several years ago, there were various low points in which I felt I had become inherently unlovable. This is, more or less, a normal reaction. When your body stops doing things it used to be able to do - or starts doing things you were quite alright without, thank you very much - it changes the way you relate to your body. You don’t want to hear my whole disability history, so yada yada yada, most people eventually come to accept their limitations. It’s a very painful existence, one in which you constantly tell yourself your disability has transformed you into a burdensome, unworthy member of society, and if nothing else, it’s not terribly sustainable. Being disabled takes grit! It takes power! It takes a truly absurd amount of medical self-advocacy! Hating yourself? Thinking yourself unworthy of love? No one has time for that. 

Of course, I’m being hyperbolic. Plenty of disabled people struggle with these feelings many years into their disabilities, and never really get over them. But here’s the thing. We experience those stories ALL THE TIME. Remember Rain Man? Or Million Dollar Baby? Or that one with the actress from Game of Thrones and that British actor who seemed like he was going to have a promising career but then didn't? Those are all stories about sad, bitter disabled people and their sad, bitter lives, two out of three of which end in the character completing suicide because they simply couldn’t imagine having to live as a disabled person. (I mean, come on media, I get that we're less likely to enjoy a leisurely Saturday hike, but our parking is SUBLIME.) When was the last time you engaged with media that depicted a happy disabled person? A complex disabled person? A disabled person who has sex? No really, these aren’t hypothetical questions, can you please drop a rec in the notes?? Because I am desperate.

There are lots of problems with this trope, and they’ve been discussed ad nauseam by people with PhDs. I’m not actually interested in talking about how this trope leads to a more prevalent societal idea that disabled people are unworthy of love, or contributes to the kind of political thought processes that keep disabled people purposefully disenfranchised. I’m just a bitch on Tumblr, and I have a bone to pick: the thing I really hate about the trope? It’s boring. I’m bored. You know how, like, halfway through Grey’s Anatomy you realized they were just recycling the same plot points over and over again and there was just no WAY anyone working at a hospital prone to THAT MANY disasters would stay on staff? It's like that. I love a recycled trope as much as the next person (There Was Only One Bed, anyone?). But I need. Something. Else.

Remus is disabled. BOLD claim. WILD speculation. Except, not really. You simply - no matter how you flip it, slice it, puree it, or deconstruct it - cannot tell me Remus Lupin is not disabled. Most of us, by this point, are probably familiar with the way that One Canonical Author intended One Dashing Werewolf to be “a metaphor for those illnesses that carry stigma, like HIV and AIDS” [I’m sorry to link you to an outside source quoting She Who Must Not Be Named, but we’re professionals here]. Which is... a thing. It’s been discussed. And, listen, there’s no denying that this parallel is a problematic interpretation of people who have HIV/AIDS and all such similar “those illnesses” (though I’ll admit that I, too, am perennially apt to turn into a raging beast liable to harm anything that crosses my path, but that’s more linked to the at-least-once-monthly recollection that One Day At A Time got cancelled). Critiques aside, Remus Lupin is a character who - due to a condition that affects him physically, mentally, emotionally, and intellectually - is repeatedly marginalized, oppressed, denied political and social power, and ostracized due to unfounded fear that he is infectious to others. Does that sound familiar?

We’re not going to argue about whether or not “Remus is canonically disabled as fuck” is a fair reading. And the reason we’re not going to argue about whether or not it’s a fair reading is because I haven’t read canon in 10-plus years and you will win the argument. Canon is only marginally relevant here. The icon of this blog is brown, curly haired Remus Lupin kissing his trans boyfriend, Sirius Black. We are obviously not too terribly invested in canon. The wolfstar fandom is now a community with over 25,000 AO3 fics, entire careers launched from drawing or writing or cosplaying this non-canonical pairing. We love to play around here with storylines and universes and races and genders and sexualities and all kinds of things, but most of the time? Remus is still disabled. He’s disabled as a werewolf in canon-compliant works, he’s disabled in the AUs where he was injured or abused or kidnapped or harmed as a child, he’s disabled in the stories that read him as chronically ill or bipolar or traumatized or blind or Deaf. I’d go so far as to say that he is one of very few characters in the Wide Wonderful World of media who is, in as close to his essence as one can be, always disabled. And that means? Don’t shoot the messenger... but we could stand to be a tiny bit more responsible with how we portray him. 

Disabled people are complicated. As much as I’d like to pretend we are always level-headed, confident, and ready to assert our inherent worth, we are still just humans. We have bad days. We doubt our worth. We sometimes go out with guys who complain about our steroid-induced weight gain (it was a long time ago, Tumblr, okay??). But, we also have joy and fun and good days and sex and happiness and families and so many other things. 

Remus is a disabled character, and as such, it’s only fair that he’d have those unworthy moments. But - I propose - Remus is also a crip. What is a crip? A crip - like a queer - is someone who eschews the limited boundaries placed on their bodies, who rejects a hierarchy of oppression in favor of an intersectional analysis of lived experience, who isn’t interested in being the tragic figure responsible for helping people with dominant identities realize how good they have it. Crips interpret their disabilities however they want, rethinking bodies and medicine and pleasure and pain and even time itself. Crips are political, community-minded, and in search of liberation. 

Remus is a character who struggles with his disability, sure. But he’s also a character who leverages his physical condition to attempt to shift communities towards his political leanings, advocates for the rights of those who share his physical condition, and has super hot sex with his wrongfully convicted boyfriend ultimately goes on to build community and family. Having a condition that quite literally cripples you, over which you have no control, and through which you are often read as a social pariah? That’s disability. But using said condition as a means through which to build advocacy and community? Now that’s some crip shit. 

Personally, I love disabled!Remus Lupin. But I love crip!Remus Lupin even more. I’d love to see more of a Remus who owns his disability, who covets what makes him unique, and who never ever again tells a potential romantic partner they are too good for him because of his disability. This trope - unlike There Was Only One Bed! - sometimes actually hurts to read. Where’s Remus who thinks a potential romantic partner isn’t good enough for him? Where’s Remus who insists his partners learn more about his condition in order to treat him properly? Where’s sexy wheelchair user Remus? Where’s Remus who uses his werewolf transformations as an excuse to travel the world? Where’s crip Remus??

We don’t have to put “you don’t want me” Remus entirely to bed. It is but one of many repeated tropes that are - in the words of The Hot Priest from Fleabag - morally a bit dubious. And let’s face it - we don’t always come to fandom for its moral superiority (as much as we sometimes like to think we do). 

This is not a condemnation - it is an invitation. Able-bodied folks are all but an injury, illness, or couple decades away from being disabled. And when you get here, I sincerely hope you don’t waste your time on “you don’t want me”ing back and forth with the people you love. I’m inviting you to come to the crip side now. We have snacks, and without all the “you don’t want me” talk, we get to the juicy parts much faster. 

Colorfully,

Mod Theo

[cherry-glade]

sleepy sunsets and candid confessions

pairing: tim drake x reader

summary: the two of you are finally getting to spend some time together after being apart for so long, and tim decides to bring something up to you that he’s been keeping to himself for some time.

warnings: mostly fluff with just the slightest bit of angst bc tim is a sad boy for a little while :/

w/c: 1889 words

You’re on the verge of falling asleep with your back pressed uncomfortably against the rough bark of a tree, sunlight warm on your face and shining bright behind your eyelids when you hear Tim, remnants of precious sleep evidently still clinging on for dear life to his voice, soft and raspy, slurring over the syllables of your name.

“Hey.” You look down to see Tim watching you with a tired little smile on his face, head resting in your lap. You’re glad to see his smile—Tim has yet to say anything about it, but you know that he’s been a little upset recently.

“I thought you were asleep, Timmy.”

“I was,” he confirms, closing his eyes again. “But I woke up again so that I could look at you.” He pauses to yawn, jaw cracking as his eyes squeeze tight before relaxing again. “Missed your face while I was sleeping.”

Your cheeks go warm at that and you gently flick his ear. Tim’s eyes flutter open and find yours as his smile widens, playful with a tiny hint of smugness spilling out with the flash of his teeth. It’s a good look on him, especially with that cheeky glint in his eyes, but then again, so is pretty much everything.

“Sap,” you mutter, and he shakes his head at you, the movement looking a little odd being viewed upside down.

“You love it,” he retorts through a second yawn and closes his eyes again, settling down like he’s just won an argument against you, except he actually has and you can’t say that he’s wrong, not really.

“We’re together almost all the time, Tim,” you murmur, pushing a few strands of dark hair out of his eyes. “Aren’t you at least a little tired of seeing my face all the time?”

“Never tired of seeing you, Y/N,” he confesses casually. “You’re my favourite person and the best part of my day.”

“Cool it with the compliments, Romeo,” you chuckle, twisting his hair and curling it around your fingers.

“It’s not just a compliment, it’s the truth,” Tim huffs, then pauses. “Well, I guess it is a compliment, but I’m not just trying to fill your head up with hot air. You make me happy. Happy, happy, happy...” he repeats, humming to himself.

You blink down at him, amused. “I think you need some more sleep,” you say, poking his forehead lightly, but he still frowns.

“No, I wanna stay up with you,” Tim insists, his frown deepening. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages. Or at least spent any time with you alone, just the two of us. I miss you all the time,” he sighs, and your heart cracks down the very middle.

“You saw me just yesterday, Tim,” you say softly, a little worried. He hasn’t mentioned this before, and while you agree with him, you can’t help but feel infinitely grateful for the little time you actually have been able to spend together. You’ve known from the start that you can’t always be his first priority, and that quite often, he has bigger things to care about than you.

“For like, five minutes,” Tim says, scowling now as he jerkily pulls himself out of your lap and still manages to gracefully get to his feet, jaw tense as he stares down at you. “We literally just said hi to each other and made small talk about the weather because we didn’t have time to talk about anything other than that.”

His shoulders slump, and you can vaguely see the sun just starting to set behind him, rays shining through Tim’s hair to make him look like an angel with a halo of bright light around his head. An angel who insists on carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“I know that’s my fault though,” he confesses guiltily, avoiding your eyes now. “Me being a vigilante doesn’t really make it easy for us to see each other, and I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry that I’m being a bad boyfriend. You deserve better from me.”

You stare at him for a moment, wide-eyed and speechless, not able to think of what to even say. In the end, you just say his name, not even trying to hide the way his name falls effortlessly from your lips, soft and loving.

His eyes flicker up to meet yours and then dart away, unable to hold your gaze. “Tim,” you repeat, your voice barely more than a whisper as you pat the grass next to you. “Come here,” you offer. “Sit with me.”

Tim hesitates and then folds himself back down next to you with crossed legs, close enough that your knees brush against each other. Looking up as you take his hand out of his lap to link your pinkies together, you notice that the sun has gone lower in the sky, leaving behind soft streaks of vibrant colour, light pinks and blues, fiery reds and oranges.

“You know,” you start, voice breaking the silence you’d both fallen into. “Whenever I get to watch the sun setting, I’m reminded of you.” Tim turns to look at you with a raised eyebrow, patiently waiting for an explanation, and you just smile at him.

“Remember our first date?” You ask, and Tim grimaces, an embarrassed flush crawling up his neck.

“The one that I was really late for so we had to completely replan it? Yeah, I remember that.” You can tell by the snark in his voice that he’s still clearly kicking himself for it, but that’s not what you want at all.

“Tim, that’s not what I meant and you know it,” you reprimand, and he gives you an apologetic smile which doesn’t reach his eyes. You sigh and take both of his hands into yours, lifting them to your mouth to press gentle kisses to his scarred knuckles and then leaving them to rest underneath your chin.

“You were late to our date in the morning, but we both wanted to finally go on a date so badly that we just went out in the evening and sat together in the park, eating ice-cream. Remember?” Tim nods, his smile becoming a little more real at the reminder of what was basically the beginning of your relationship.

“I... dropped my ice-cream because I was tired enough to be on the verge of falling asleep, and you shared yours with me. And we watched the sun set together. That was nice,” he says softly, untangling his fingers from yours so that he can curl his hand over your lower thigh instead, thumb rubbing slow circles over your knee.

“It was,” you agree. “It was really nice because that evening, I looked at you, and the sun was hitting you just right.” Tim grins bashfully, eyes crinkling. “It made your eyes all twinkly and somehow even bluer, and you looked back at me with this really dopey smile, and I thought, all the way back then, that I could seriously fall in love with you. And I did.”

Tim gives you the same dopey smile he’d given you back then, and it still makes your heart flutter. “You did. And so did I,” he says, touching his fingers to your cheek, lingering on the curve of your jaw.

“Exactly,” you tell him. “So now, whenever I see a sunset, I think of that. Of you. And you know, the sun sets every day, so I think of you a lot,” you say nonchalantly, shrugging.

“Even when we don’t see each other for a while, you’re still in here,” you continue to explain, resting one hand on top of his chest, right above the steady beat of his heart. “And up here,” you say, tapping his temple with your other hand. “And I’m sure the same goes for you.”

The way that his face softens tells you all you need to know. You don’t hold your arms out for a hug, but you keep your body language open and inviting, waiting for Tim to move first. And sure enough, he shuffles over and curls into you, resting his chin on top of your head as you lift your arms to pull him in close enough that every inch of your bodies are touching.

“You’re right,” Tim speaks up after a few minutes of comfortable silence, voice slightly muffled, but you can feel his lips moving against your skin, warm and curving into a smile. “I’m sorry for being an idiot and not talking to you about this sooner.”

“You aren’t an idiot, Timmy,” you say, lifting your head from his shoulder to look him in the eye and put emphasis on your words. The sun shines on, warm and bright where it touches you. “You just needed a reminder not to be so hard on yourself, that’s all. We all do sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Tim says softly, gaze fixed upon yours, something soft and undoubtedly gooey in his blue eyes. “You know me so well.”

“Of course I do. I’m in love with you,” you reply simply, tilting your head.

“Thank you,” he replies, and you give him a look, confused. “For being you. And for loving me,” he clarifies. “I know that being with me isn’t exactly easy.”

“That’s where you’re absolutely, totally wrong,” you respond, touching his nose with your finger and smiling when it wrinkles and his eyes cross as he tries to look at it. “You don’t need to thank me for something I don’t even have to try to do.”

Tim watches you with widening eyes, lips parted. He might be shocked by what you’ve said but you’ve known this to be true for so long, as true as the sky is blue, that it’s only fair he does too.

“Loving you is—well, it’s practically as easy as breathing. And no, I’m not exaggerating when I say that, so don’t even think about it,” you rush to cut him off as he opens his mouth, and his cheeks turn a delightful shade of pink.

Tim leans forward to kiss your forehead and then huffs out a laugh against your skin, his breath cool and smelling vaguely of coffee and mint-flavoured chewing gum, the staples of his diet. “I wasn’t going to say that.”

Liar. Tim never fails to point out hyperboles in people’s speech, with that smug little shine to his eyes.

“Loving me is as easy as breathing though, huh?” He sounds amused and pleased at the same time, a terrible combination for sure. “Who’s the real sap in this relationship, huh?”

“Still you,” you fire back, and Tim chuckles, fond and exasperated. You’re still smiling at him and your legs have gone numb from sitting down for so long, but nothing can make you look away from the playful grin on Tim’s face, bright and infectious.

“If you say so,” Tim sighs, sitting back to watch the sun finish setting with you as the sky begins to darken and the first stars are about to appear, but you both know that you’re just as hopelessly gone for this boy as he is for you, and time spent apart won’t change that, because it really is true, at least in your case, that absence only makes the heart grow fonder.

[scabopolis]

the gift of gab, the gift of you

Here it is @thisonesatellite! your 2020 CS Secret Santa gift. It was a complete and total delight to get to be your gift giver this year. That is not hyperbole - you are a gosh dang delight! Each of your message responses left me in stitches and while I will NEVER try and convince you a movie you think is bunk is good, I am delighted at the opportunity to recommend rom coms that don’t make you want to gouge your eyes out. 

This fic is heavily inspired by your love of coffee shops AUs (except...you know, a pub), your travel stories (which I shamelessly incorporated into the fic) and I believe rates about a 4 on the reindeer scale of Christmas cheer.  You’re a total eagle eye, so I just need to say I am well aware that Colin O’Donoghue’s accent in no way resembles an accent from Cork, but I just need that to be ignored, please and thank you.

Also, I’ve decided we’re fandom friends now. Okay? Okay! Finally, thank you to @cssecretsanta2020 for organizing this exchange and being the actual best and most patient fandom soul. 

*** Title: the gift of gab, the gift of you

Summary: Emma needs an Irish man. Wait! No! It’s not what it sounds like. And then the universe just has to go and provide her with the world’s chattiest, flirtiest, blue-eyesiest Irish man in existence. 

Available on AO3. ***

Emma is in no position to complain. From where she sits both literally – (perched upon a comfy barstool in the world’s coziest pub) – as well as existentially – (traveling abroad for the first time in her life) — she is fortunate and blessed. 

It’s just – 

It’s just it would be easier to enjoy it all if she didn’t have to deal with a rather annoying request from her rather annoyingly persistent mother. 

Her headphones are in but Emma still takes great care to speak in hushed tones over video chat. There’s nothing she wants less than to be the loud American who shares her private conversation with an entire establishment. The pub she found is at the end of a quiet lane off of Cork’s high street. The customers within the pub appear to be locals well known by the staff who tend the pub. In truth, she wouldn’t even be having this conversation if it wasn’t for —

“Who have you talked to today?” her mother asks. 

“Uh, I’m pretty sure I thanked the barista who made my coffee. And I ordered a pint in this pub.” 

“That’s not talking.” 

“It is by definition talking.” 

“That’s not what I meant. How else are you going to get to know the city?” Her mom interrupts before Emma can properly formulate a snarky reply. “And don’t you dare say ‘guidebooks.’ Your father and I raised you better than that.”

“Mom, please don’t make me do this.” 

“You said I could have anything I wanted as a souvenir.”  

“What about a mug? I bought Grandma Ruth one with a big fat sheep on it.” 

“Sounds lovely, sweetie, but no.” 

“Mom.” Emma realizes that as a twenty-six year old woman it is probably unbecoming to whine, but her mother is being absolutely ridiculous. Where is her dad when she needs him to rescue her? All he requested was a bottle of whiskey. What a sensible person!

“No. It’s fine. If you don’t want to get your mother the one thing she asked for on this trip that’s okay. I won’t say one word about paying for this celebration trip, or paying for graduate school, or —” 

“Shit, mom. Did you take a Guilt Trip 101 class or just Google how to?”

“Oh, this is natural talent. My present, please.” 

“Fine.” There’s a group of bearded men, the ones she pegged as locals, tucked into one corner of the pub. They’re probably her best bet, but she just arrived last night, and the combination of jet lag and travel nerves make her feel not yet up for that. Which leaves the staff working the bar. 

One of the two men she’s seen pouring pints and serving up food has gone missing. Besides, Emma wouldn’t trust herself in her sleep-deprived state to not say something utterly absurd to the blue-eyed, dark-haired, scruffy bartender. Probably a good thing he’s gone. Much safer is the other man working the bar – the one who refused to serve her Guinness but was very kind about it. While arguably attractive, he is a decidedly less intimidating sort of handsome. Unfortunately, he is in the midst of a heated discussion with one of the patrons, the two of them gesticulating to something happening with a football match on the screen. Which leaves the blonde haired woman currently polishing glasses. 

Emma lightly clears her throat. “Excuse me, ma’am?” When the woman turns to look at her, Emma smiles, and signals her over. She sets aside the pint glasses and tucks the polishing rag into her apron. Her mother, on the other end of the video call, is not satisfied. 

“Did you say ma’am?” 

“Mom,” Emma whispers.

“I said an Irish man, Emma Blanchard Nolan. Man.”

“No. You said person.” 

“The man was implied.” 

“Then you should have been more specific.” 

“Ready for another?” the woman at the bar asks. 

Emma looks down at her half-full pint. “Not quite.” She frowns. “And, uh, you’re not Irish, are you?” 

“No. Canadian.” 

“Ah. Okay.” Emma lowers her voice again and looks at her phone screen. Her mother remains unimpressed. “That’s foreign. Technically she’s a foreigner.” 

The sternness of Mary-Margaret’s expression is evident even over the video call. “Emmaline —” 

“Not my name, mother.” 

“Emmaline Blanchard Nolan, you promised me.” 

“I’ll find an Irish person tomorrow.” It’s about this time Emma realizes she’s rudely ignoring the very kind and apparently Canadian bartender. The one she asked to speak with. What’s more, the very kind and apparently Canadian bartender has been joined by the curly haired bartender. Both of whom peer at her with matching expressions of amused befuddlement. Emma removes her headphones and addresses the man. “You’re Irish, right?” 

“Well, miss,” and the gentle brogue of his accent, even with those two short words, is quite evident, “you are in Ireland.” 

“Excellent! Can you talk to my mom?” She detaches the headphones from her phone and turns the camera around to face the man and woman. “My mom wants to have a conversation with an Irish person.” 

“Irish man,” her mother corrects.

“An Irish man. Out in the wild.” The bartenders stare at her, nonplussed. “It’s her souvenir.” 

The woman presses her lips together – an obvious attempt to stifle a laugh. 

“Well, uh, aye.” The man tugs at his ear. “I guess I could —” He’s interrupted from his stuttering by the return of the blue-eyed, stubbly bartender, hauling a new keg into the back of the bar. 

“Actually,” the woman cuts in. “My husband,” she hip checks the curly-haired man, “needs to replace the keg.” 

“I do?” he asks. 

“He does?” This from tall, dark, and holy hell! also possesses an Irish accent. 

“But Killian is in the middle—”

“Shh,” the blonde woman interrupts her husband. 

“Yeah. Killian is—”

She goes on to shush the man Emma now knows to be Killian. 

“Oh no,” Mary Margaret whispers over the video call, “there’s two of them.” 

“What is happening?” Emma’s not sure which of the two men asked, this whole interaction spinning rather absurdly out of control. 

“I don’t know,” Emma says.

The woman ignores all of them. “I’m Elsa, this is Liam, and that,” she points to Killian, frozen with a hand on the keg like he’s uncertain what to do, “is my very single, very Irish brother-in-law.” And all at once it becomes clear what Elsa’s intentions are. “Killian, can you come over here and help our lovely patron and her lovely mother?” 

“Oh, Emma, Killian even sounds like an Irish name.” 

“Mom!” Originally she found her mother’s request to be silly but harmless. The more people who become involved, however, the quicker it approaches mortifying. Emma watches as Elsa whispers something to her brother-in-law, likely explaining the unconventional request. 

“I’m very friendly,” Mary-Margaret reassures anyone who might be listening. 

“You are a flirt, is what you are,” Emma scolds. “And what would dad say if he found out about this?”

“He asked for whiskey. I asked for this.” 

“Come on, lass. Don’t deprive me of a dashing rescue.” Killian leans across the bar, his hand reaching out for her phone. All that stubble and the blue-eyes and the accent are worse when directed directly at her. “Besides, your mum sounds like a woman after my own heart.” 

“If you’re sure—?”

“Absolutely.”

To her abject horror, the moment she hands Killian the phone, he walks away with it in hand. 

“As requested, milady,” he says to the screen, “one genuine Irish man.”

Her mother’s delighted giggle is embarrassing for all Americans everywhere but it seems to delight Killian. She can just makeout her mother’s question about where he grew up when he rounds the corner, out of her hearing. 

“Where is he going?” Emma asks, craning her neck. “Where is he taking my phone?” 

“If I know Killian, your mum is probably about to get the most thorough oral history of Irish pubs she could have asked for,” Liam says, tossing a towel over his shoulder. 

“Oh. Okay.” She drums her fingertips on her glass. “I’m sorry about all the trouble.” 

“Nonsense,” he waves her off. “This is the most exciting thing to happen in our pub since Seamus and Willy hosted their wedding reception here.” He jerks his chin towards the group of bearded men she noticed earlier, though which one is Seamus and which is Willy she can’t be certain. 

After another fifteen minutes, Emma has finished her pint and Killian still has possession of her phone. He crossed through the room once, merrily chatting with her mother as he regaled  her with the story of how he got the scar on his cheek. 

Elsa is filling a series of pint glasses for a group of women standing at the bar, and Emma feels the need to apologize again. “This isn’t what I expected,” she explains. 

“What’s that?” Elsa asks. 

“I was kind of thinking, best case scenario, there’d be an exchange of hellos and that would be that.” 

Elsa nods, hands the pints off to the women, and then fills one more. “Are you familiar with the legend of the Blarney stone?” 

Emma nods. She has absolutely no intention of kissing the dang thing (her research indicates local teens do all manner of ungodly things to the stone, knowing that tourists intend to kiss it), but it’s on her list to go see. 

“Well, Jones family legend —”

“I take it your husband and his brother are Jones’?” 

“And me by marriage. Jones family legend has it that Killian must have been birthed upon the stone because never has there been a man more endowed with the gift of gab.” Elsa finishes pouring the pint and sets it in front of her. 

“Oh, I didn’t order this.” Right at that moment, Liam returns to the bar and sets a turkey sandwich in front of her. “Or this,” Emma says. 

“Knowing my brother, you might be here a while,” Liam explains. 

“Gift of gab?” 

He nods, pleased that the Jones family lore has reached her. “Gift of gab.”

Liam proves to be correct, which means Emma has ample time to get to know both Elsa and Liam. The two of them are freakishly adept at juggling bartending, interacting with their customers, and keeping up a steady flow of conversation with her. The highlight is hearing the full story of Seamus and Willy (she is able to identify them by their matching navy sweaters – sweaters which Willy apparently handknits for the both of them), two men who worked on the same fishing boat for decades before realizing they were in love. 

“Once they sorted that bit out, they got married three weeks later,” Elsa says. 

“So which one of them is the designated driver?” Emma asks. 

“That whole lot lives down the street.” Liam raises his voice so the group can hear them. “And they do nothing but hassle me every day of my life!” The group all raise their pint glasses and cheer, indicating this kind of teasing is something central to the pub’s dynamic. 

Killian returns from wherever it was he was busy flirting with her mother and sets her phone on the bartop. She looks down at the display only to find it blank.

“Uh, your mum had to run to the market, but she indicated she’ll call you later.” 

“She didn’t even say goodbye? Unbelievable.” As Emma gears herself up for peak mom-annoyance, she gets a text message. “Speak of the devil.” 

4:38 PM - Mom to Emma hubba hubba

“Ah, geez, mom,” she grumbles. 

“What’d she say about me?” Killian asks. 

“What makes you think that text was about you?” 

“Because you have roses in your cheeks.” Emma frowns. She what? “You’re blushing,” Killian says. 

“No I’m not.” 

“It’s getting deeper, I’m afraid.” He takes away her empty pint glass. “Another?” 

“Yes, please.” 

He sets another pint of Murphy’s in front of her (Liam was the one to inform her that one drinks Murphy’s when one is in Cork). “Your mother is lovely.” 

“Yeah, she’s something alright.” She sips the beer and licks the foam off her lip. “What were the two of you talking about for so long?”

“Oh, just having a chat. She wanted to know about the pub and how Elsa and Liam met.” 

“The gift of gab.” 

“Ah,” he says, “Elsa told you of that, then?” 

“Like my mom didn’t tell you anything about me?” 

“It was all good, Emma.” 

She snorts. “Yeah, I’m sure.” 

“Why a conversation with an Irish man?” Emma frowns at Killian, not quite certain of what he’s asking. “For a souvenir. That’s truly all your mum wanted?” 

“Oh, that. In between flirting, did she tell you anything about her and my dad?” Killian shakes his head. “It’s kind of a long story.” 

As if waiting for his cue, Liam comes up behind Killian and slings an arm around his brother’s shoulder. “My dear little brother has time.” 

“Younger brother,” Killian corrects. 

“Shorter brother.” Liam bumps Killian towards the other side of the bar. “Why don’t you keep Emma company?” 

“I have another three hours on my shift.” 

“I think Elsa and I can handle it until Will arrives.” 

“Liam.” 

“Don’t make me fire you.” 

“You can’t fire me. We’re co-owners.” 

“Fine. Don’t make me quit.” 

Killian rolls his eyes but slides out from under Liam’s arm. He crosses to the other side of the bar and sits beside Emma. “I’ll take a pint, then.” He raps his knuckles on the bartop. “And make it quick.” 

Emma hides her smile in her pint glass. Both Liam and Elsa have been so lovely. There’s no reason to switch allegiances at this point. Regardless of how much she might be tempted by the stubbly-faced, blue-eyed flirty Irish man sitting beside her. 

“Between the two of them and my mother,” Emma says. 

“Yeah, not the most subtle lot.” Liam shoots Killian a glare as he sets the pint down to which Killian responds with the cheekiest grin Emma has ever seen. The interaction has older and baby brother written all over it. “So, your mom and Irishmen. Go.” 

“Oh, that.” Unlike her mother, and even her father, Emma holds the details of her life close to her chest. She’s made the mistake in the past of sharing too much too fast. When people leave her, either by choice or circumstance, it physically pains her to know there are people out in the world with knowledge of her worries, fears and dreams. But maybe it’s the sandwich sitting warm in her stomach, or the jet lag, or simply the buzz of international travel, because she feels inclined to share at least a few details of her life with Killian. 

“My mom and dad both took a gap year after high school and met while backpacking across Europe. They met at the Roman Colosseum, decided to match up their itineraries, and by the time they arrived in Budapest five months later they were in love and my mom was pregnant.” 

“And they’ve been together ever since?” 

“Almost 27 years.”

“That’s quite the story.” 

She nods. “They cut their year of travel short, and went to live with my Grandma Ruth, my dad’s mom. They always talked about returning to Europe, finishing their trip at some point, but by the time I was old enough to leave behind with my grandma, dad was in vet school, mom was teaching, and they were running a wildlife rescue from the family farm. They kept making new plans to travel but they just kept getting pushed back and back and back. Until, one day, they decided to put all that money towards sending me on my first trip instead. So, as much as I fight every silly request she has of me, I would do anything if it made her smile.”

“Your mum and dad never made it to Ireland?” 

“Nope.”

“Thus the strange request.” 

“Thus the strange request.” 

“Well, it gave me a reason to chat with the lovely lass at the bar, so for that I’ll be forever grateful.” 

Her Grandma Ruth, Aunt Ruby, and frankly everyone who knows her parents well, routinely comment on the resemblance between Emma and her dad. Apparently in temperament and affectation they are almost identical. But maybe she’s more like her mom than anyone knows because the conversation between her and Killian flows fast and easy. Easy enough that she barely notices when she and Killian finish their pints and Elsa slides new glasses in front of them. Emma’s head is feeling a little buzzy, and that turkey sandwich was more than a couple hours ago. Maybe she can hint at Killian that she wants to go to the Christmas market. Hint even more specifically that she wouldn’t hate if he went with her. 

No, she can’t do that. To even think such a thing would be ridiculous. 

She can’t possibly ask a practical stranger to walk up and down the stalls of the festive market with her. She can’t expect him to want to sample all the baked goods and food they can handle. Or to hold her hand while they drink spiked apple cider. That kind of thinking is romantic, and hopeful, and not at all her brand. 

“This is really your first trip out of the states?” Killian asks.

“I mean, Canada, but that’s so close to home it doesn’t count.” Emma catches herself, eyes darting to Elsa. “Don’t tell your sister.” 

“Your secret’s safe with me.” Killian angles his body on the stool to face her more directly. Without Emma realizing it, they’ve drifted close enough together over the past hour or so that the move makes it so their knees knock together. Emma could move away, put some distance between them, but everything is foggy and hazy in that delicious way, and she can’t bring herself to move. “What does that make me, then? The ruggedly handsome foreigner you intend to seduce as a notch on your bedpost?” 

“Who said anything about seduction?”

“You’re giving me bedroom eyes.” 

“I do not make eyes of any kind. Especially bedroom eyes.” 

Elsa jumps in, setting glasses of water down for each of them. “Yeah, but Killian does. And he needs to put them away.”

Emma tries to react quickly enough to Elsa’s teasing to evade Killian’s detection, to turn away and hide her smile in her shoulder so he can’t see, but the gentle tug on the end of her braid indicates he caught her. 

“Think that’s funny, do you?” 

“You and my mom ganged up against me. I deserve to join with your family against you.” 

“Your mum is great.” He shrugs. “Well, based on the little I know.”  

“I know she can be a little intense. I hope she didn’t—”

“She was as lovely as her daughter.” Before his words can fully sink in, perhaps bringing that blush back to her cheeks, he’s moved on. “You’ll have to bring her with you when you return.” 

She rests her chin on palm, blinking up at him. Okay, maybe she sometimes makes eyes. “What makes you think I have any plans to come back?”

“Ireland gets in your blood. You’ll be back.” 

This time they’re interrupted by Liam. He swipes away the pint glasses in front of them, remaining beer and all. “That’s about all I can stomach of that.”

“What do you mean?” Killian asks. 

“You’ve been flirting with the kind tourist long enough. Time to go.” 

Oh. Emma looks down at her boots. A surge of deep embarrassment heating her cheeks and causing her stomach to churn. “Sorry,” she says quietly, her eyes turned down. “I didn’t mean to—”

“No!” The twin cries from both Liam and Killian startle her. She’s not sure which one appears more stricken by her announcement she intended to leave.   

“Apologies, Emma, I wasn’t clear,” Liam says. He extends his hand to Killian. “Apron.” It takes Killian a moment to react but when Liam stays in his place, his hand extended, Killian removes his apron and hands it to him. “See you tomorrow, little brother.” 

“Younger.”

“Dumber.” 

“Stubborner.”

“Not a word.” Liam stalks back over to Elsa who is shaking her head at the whole display. “They’re both idiots,” Liam says, and Emma is just going to pretend she didn’t hear that, thank you very much. 

“Have you been to the Christmas market yet, Emma?” Killian’s voice brings her back to the pub, and this particular bar stool, with this particular man. This particular man who has somehow intuited the secret desire of her heart to go to the town’s Christmas market with him. 

“No. No. Not yet.” 

Killian jumps down from his seat and extends a hand to Emma to help her down. “Come on, love. Let’s sail away.” 

There’s 100 ways Emma could respond to that. She could tell Killian she isn’t his love. She could jump down from the stool on her own. She could insist she’s fine going to the market by herself. But she tries to channel a little magic, that particular magic which for her mom and dad turned one day in Rome into a lifetime, and chooses differently. 

(Not that she’s saying she expects—)

She takes Killian’s offered hand and his answering grin is all the confirmation she needs she made the right decision. 

And so they go to the Christmas market, and at Killian’s insistence she tries mulled wine but quickly trades it in for a cup of boozy cider. They ride the ferris wheel, the cold stinging her cheeks from the top, the lights of Cork spread out before her, and that thrum of love for this place beats loudly in her veins. Suddenly every travel story her parents have ever told her makes sense and maybe Killian is right  – maybe Ireland is in her blood. 

They walk together side-by-side and at a point Emma can’t remember – somewhere between sampling whiskey, buying several bottles for her dad, and licking salt and malt vinegar from hot chips off her fingers – they transition to walking hand-in-hand. The heat of Killian’s skin, even through two layers of gloves, is what she blames for the fact that she actually starts humming along to Christmas carols. Where’s that deep cynicism she has been committed to for her life when she needs it? 

“Told you,” Killian says after the two of them step away from a stall with handmade ornaments. She must have been channeling her mom because she couldn’t stop herself from striking up a conversation with the vendor. Somehow by the end of the interaction she’d agreed to join him and his wife for their annual holiday pub crawl the following night. 

“Told me what?” 

“That you would fall for Ireland.” 

“You get the honor and privilege of keeping me company on my first full night on my first real trip out of the country and all you can say is ‘I told you so’?” 

“I believe what I am trying to say, love, is you appear very much at home here.” 

The sentiment makes everything in Emma buzz, but she does what she does best and works to diffuse it. “Well, uh, I don’t know. Does it ever snow here?” 

“Eh, we get about 50 mm every year?” At her look of confusion Killian smiles. “Not much.” 

“Have you ever had a white Christmas?” 

“Can’t say I have. They’re pretty rare in Ireland.” 

“In that case, I think this means you should come to Maine. We do a great white Christmas.” 

“Maybe I will.” 

“Great. Next year sound good?” 

Killian laughs and squeezes her hand. “Sounds great.”

She hears the faint echo of advice her dad once gave her. It was right when she was fresh off her heartbreak with Neal and wasn’t sure she had it in her to apply for grad school. He said something to her about moments. About the need to notice good moments even in the midst of bad ones. 

Standing here hand-in-hand with a man she met only five hours ago, the glow of Christmas lights dancing in technicolor hues against his cheeks and hair, Emma is absolutely certain this is a good moment. 

“Emma?” 

She answers Killian’s question by rising up on her toes and kissing him. It’s quick and fleeting, barely a brush of her lips against his, but the look on his face as she pulls away, all bright eyed-wonder, deserves to be classified as a good moment all on its own. 

It takes self-control Emma wasn’t aware she possessed to not drop their shopping bags to the ground, grip him by the lapels of his jacket, and kiss the crap out of him. Instead she loops her arm in his. 

“It’s getting late,” she says. “Want to walk me back to my hotel?” 

He swallows, that poleaxed expression still on his face. “Aye.” 

The next morning, Emma is woken up by the sound of her video call alert and boy it was a mistake to not extend her do not disturb until noon. She reaches out and blindly bats at the bedside table until she makes contact with her phone. As soon as she swipes up on her mom’s call, she squeezes her eyes shut again. 

“Hello?”

“Oh, sweetie. Are you still jet lagged?” 

“And a little hungover.”

“Sounds like you had a very eventful night.”

Killian grumbles from somewhere behind her. “What time is it?” he asks.

It’s right about this moment Emma realizes her error. Her mom goes quiet and Emma considers taking the opportunity to end the call. And then maybe ignore every call thereafter for the next five days. 

“Emma Nolan. Is there a man in bed with you?” 

“No,” Emma answers, though it’s perfunctory and not at all convincing. 

Killian presses closer to her, and shifts so his chin rests on her shoulder. “Hello again, Mrs. Nolan. And this must be Mr. Nolan.” 

That gets Emma’s attention and she opens her eyes enough to see her mom and dad sitting beside one another on the couch. While her mom is positively gleeful, her dad looks as though he wishes he could melt into the couch cushions and disappear. 

“There are certain things I don’t care to see,” her dad says. “Certain things I don’t care to know.” 

Emma rotates in bed and onto her back, holding the phone above her head so both she and Killian are still in view of the camera. “Oh hush, Dad, you and mom did it the first night you met.” 

“You told her that?” 

In response, her mom shrugs. “She asked.” 

“And not that it matters, but Killian and I didn’t have sex.” 

Though it didn’t stop them from trading long, slow kisses that left her dizzy and wanting more, more, and more. Killian must have felt the same because it took little to no convincing to get him to stay the night. Perhaps most remarkably, after extending the invitation, Emma had no desire to retract it or pretend it didn’t mean anything. 

“Your daughter was far too drunk to have sex.” Emma turns her head so fast in Killian’s direction she hears something crack. 

“That, for instance, is one of the things I don't want to know about,” her dad says.  

Killian cheerfully waves at the camera, ignoring both her father’s indignation and her glare. “I’m Killian, by the way. Happy to meet your acquaintance, Mr. Nolan.” 

Emma elbows Killian. The man is a total menace. “I’ll call you guys back when I’ve had coffee,” 

“I want details,” her mom says. 

“And I want no details.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Emma hangs up the phone and tosses it in the direction of the foot of the bed. She flips over onto her side and Killian mirrors her, reaching out to trace the freckles on the bridge of her nose. “So that was my dad.” 

“He seems a charming fellow.” 

“Don’t let the responsible tough guy act fool you,” she says, and snuggles closer to Killian. He responds just as she hoped, by wrapping his arms tight around her. “He once spent all his money on a cross country train ride and stole oyster crackers from the dining car for food. And during a California road trip, my mom almost froze to death sleeping in her wet bathing suit on the side of the road.” 

Killian chuckles, the vibrations of his laugh making her feel even warmer. “You’re saying they can deal with a half naked man in their daughter’s hotel room?”  

“Yeah, they can deal.” After a moment’s hesitation, Emma slips her hands up and under Killian’s shirt. It’s the one he wore to work, and she can still smell the faint aromas of beer and fried food that linger. She presses her palms against his back and bunches the shirt up, up, and then over his head. 

“Emma?” 

A girl could get used to the way his voice moves over the syllables of her name. “They might have a problem with a fully naked one, though.” She kisses his bare shoulder.

Killian’s hands move under her shirt to span her waist. Goosebumps breakout across her skin. By the slight twist of his lips, Killian notices. “So you’re saying—?” 

“I’m saying you should quit gabbing and kiss me before they call again.” 

“As you wish.”

And a week later, when she is back in Maine celebrating Christmas with her family and Killian is in Ireland with his, Emma convinces herself she imagined it. She must have. She must have imagined how safe she felt in the presence of another person. Imagined the comfort she felt as he joined her for a quick road trip to Dublin. Imagined that it could feel like your heart was split in two, half residing in the chest of a person you just met. 

But the week of New Year’s Eve, when he arrives in Maine to celebrate with her, she’s startled to find it was all real. 

The morning after Killian arrives, she sits with her mom in her parents’ breakfast nook, the two of them sipping coffee as Killian and her dad make waffles. 

“Not such a dumb souvenir after all, huh?” her mom whispers.

Emma shakes her head, too happy to even react to her mom’s shameless gloating. “No. Not so dumb.” 

[oddlyunadventurous]

bands to be embarrassed of

i saw this question in a forum thread (a friend posted it) and it really set my mind racing. thought i’d post it on my blog to reach a wider audience because if you listen to any of these bands it might be something to think about next time you’re about to bring them up in conversation, or even if you’re just thinking of listening to any of them in private.

they might be giants haven’t heard most of their music tbh but it's too long of a name for a music band. elements of style, you know, Strunk Jr et al, you've GOT to be more assertive, so on, so forth. i think a simple, declarative "giants" would've fit better. you ask a guy at a party and he says "oh yeah i listen to GIANTS", man, you tell yourself, that's a big guy that listens to some big music. as it stands you really can't bring this up to anyone without loss of social standing the decemberists this band is pretty cool all in all if you know a little bit of russian history so you get the reference. decemberists = revolutionaries = a real go-getter attitude is what you're imagining when you hear the band's name. the thing though is their music is all funeral marches. i've not really listened to them, either, but just the two songs i heard felt samey. if you're at a bar and you're talking to someone who's not, like, oh, I know tzar nicholas, tzar chaikovsky and whatever, the "i majored in history" types, they'll just think of their shittiest winter when you tell them about the band, and imagine playing something from your ipod right after and it just sounds like wind going through dead trees and maybe wolves howling. i don't think they literally have songs like that, i'm not that stupid, but you know. evocation, program music. you can do that kind of stuff with a guitar or a flute. point being, you're not taking the conversation anywhere. sewerslvt i love good adult humor every now and then (the name i mean) but there really isn't much to talk about here. "oh this artist is really tragic" well okay cool but there's a time and place. i'm not at a greek theater. you know, the greeks, they were like "music is the most abstract form of art" and you're bringing up all this concrete stuff and i just wanna listen to a 4/4 beat. now, i'm being hyperbolic, of course i'm not a philistine, i can handle some pads, i even think putting a dial-up sound in your song is fresh and irreverent. but you listen to some of those songs and theres NO playful attitude there at all. you'd just sour the mood if you ever brought up sewerslvt and everybody would rather you didn't. the my little pony score i guess this is various artists technically, but nevertheless winter wrap up was my jam in 2015 or so. now i'd never admit to it because of certain things that happened to the fandom (too many to enumerate), but i'm bringing it up here for illustrative purposes. it's not because it's from a kids cartoon or anything, but when a fandom becomes embarrassing to be a part of, the "cringe" also bleeds onto the object of fandom (word in quotes because it itself has become "cringe" to use, i don't really want you guys to think i use it in earnest). i didn't explain it that well but i hope it helps. anyway if i think of any others i'll let you know.

[zalrb]

OKAY. SINCE ANONS SEEM TO BE INTERESTED. HERE IS MY DAWSON’S CREEK 1X01 REVIEW.

@jayciethings​ IF YOU ARE INTERESTED.

1. I think the opening scene does a good job in establishing the central struggle of the season and it does it in 3 minutes: 1) things need to change and Joey wants them to 2) Dawson doesn’t see why anything has to change and doesn’t see what Joey is trying to say 3) burgeoning sexuality 4) Joey-Dawson friendship.

2. I also think the Joey-Dawson friendship is also established really well and it’s actually a time where dialogue and action work in tandem. They give a brief history/overview of their friendship: “you’ve been sleeping over since you were 7″ “i’ve seen you pick your nose, scratch your butt” while also showing them watch tv, playfight and ultimately end up sleeping in the same bed, like they did when they were 7.

3. I actually don’t find the dialogue as annoying right now.

4. I will forever be angry that they didn’t pay to have the original music with their scenes because Dawson’s Creek is not Dawson’s Creek without “I Don’t Wanna Wait”.

5. “He did it again, he grabbed my ass.” “Like you even have one.” Joshua’s delivery is perfect because it’s resigned and un-offended.

6. “I’m Jen.” “Oh right, the granddaughter from New York.” That actually isn’t clunky. It’s a good way to do exposition.

7. “You look different.” “Puberty.” LOL Joey Whitter sass.

8. Honestly, at least so far, Joey’s behaviour makes sense for a 15 year old girl who is in love with her best friend who doesn’t see her as a sexual being and then has to watch him salivate over The New Girl. No, that isn’t Jen’s fault but sometimes people on this site act like teenagers or adults for that matter don’t have messy and not-so-great emotions/reactions to things. Unless, apparently, they’re men who are rapists and serial killers, then the understanding is boundless.

9. It’s actually refreshing to hear “Mr. Leery” “Mrs. Leery” since teens in shows now just call adults by their first names, which I would NEVER do. I still can’t do that. If I had to address initiumseries’ dad it would be Mr...

10. I also think it’s funny that this dialogue is being made fun of but this kind of cadence and irony is the kind of thing shows go for now -- Riverdale tries to emulate this and I would argue Euphoria tries to do an edgier version of this. Like Nellie insulting Pacey, that kind of tone is what they’re trying to go for with Cheryl.

11. I’ll admit this is more fun than I thought it would be so far.

12.  I LOVE WHAT’S EDGY FOR THE NINETIES. SHE IS IN A SUNDRESS. SETTLE DOWN.

13. “I have it on pretty good authority that mothers have excellent sex.” LOL Pacey, dick move.

14. Renting The Graduate, how on the nose.

15. THEIR CLOTHES ARE SO 90s.

16. The soundtrack pisses me off so much.

17. Oh Dawson. I knew so many self-important, I’m-so-deep-I-like-these-kinds-of-movies or -this-kind-of-music boys in high school. Like I find it so typical that he thinks his obsession with Spielberg would interest Jen.

18. Dawson taking Jen to his studio is like Klaus taking Caroline to sees his drawings.

19. Oh man, I remember being a kid and watching these teen shows with my cousin and seeing how Capeside High School was with everyone on a quad and throwing footballs and being like HIGH SCHOOL IS GOING TO BE LIKE THAT and my cousin just being like

20. I like how Dawson’s Creek is the whitest show and they still managed to have more Black extras than Gilmore Girls.

21. Dawson and Jen actually have a nice chemistry. But everyone is coming on super strong with Jen and she’s just kind of like, this seems normal.

22. The film teacher is a dick for no reason. I’ve had my fair share of dickish teachers but this is excessive right off the bat.

23. Lol poor Jen, she really is trying with Joey.

24. I like how a status of Joey’s class is the fact that her sister is engaged to a Black man *eye roll*

25. I don’t know of any school where teachers ate in the cafeteria with the students. In my school there were teachers who supervised the cafeteria but that’s it. Wow, I spent like no time in my high school cafeteria.

26. “I’m having a climax issue”

27.  Tamara, Ms. Jacobs, you should be in jail.

28. I like how this school LOOKS like a school.

29. Ugh, a trans jokes. Ugh, there was so much of that in the 90s.

30. “Nothing has to change. We can talk about anything.” Honestly, from a screenwriting point of view, this is a solid pilot. I remember in a screenwriting class I took, we studied The Social Network and every 10 pages someone calls Zuckerberg either an asshole or a jerk or something in that vein as a way to reiterate a key part of the theme of the movie and while I don’t have the pilot script in front of me, DC does reiterate the theme of the season frequently without it being repetitive.

31. The dialogue isn’t as hyperbolic as I remember tbh. And I’m going to say it again, shows are aiming for this, even the one episode I saw of the Winx Saga, when they try to flirt about mansplaining, when she’s fighting with her mom about how she’s not a feminist, they’re trying for this. But DC manages to make it more natural and it’s because the Core 4 have a charm. Even if you hate Dawson.

32. Who is Dawson’s dad. Is he in something else?

33. No, I just think he looks like Dr. Cox.

34. Dawson’s rant about sex not being important is hilarious. Yes, Dawson, you’re just pursuing Jen out of intellectual and philosophical desire.

35. I like how Joey is supposed to be a tomboy just because she’s the only girl/woman in Capeside who doesn’t wear a sundress.

36. Poor Jen.

37. Joey is super dramatic, I get that, but I kind of love it because I’m going RELAX but the way I would to a teenager. Like CALM. DOWN. Also “all I do is understand” is something that we needed to see more of before that argument.

38. Dawson, you never ask anyone else any questions about themselves, lol.

39. “How can you say you were just renting a movie??” Pacey is such a fifteen year old and I do wish the show would just ... let him be one? And what I mean by that is Pacey is supposed to be the friend with the edge, the fact that he “pursues” Ms Jacobs is supposed to attest to that fact, it’s framed as taboo and yet they’re presented as being on equal footing, even the way her date moves to grab him out of his seat when the fact of the matter is, he’s a kid, and if the show didn’t actually make the Tamara/Pacey relationship a storyline and made it about another way teenagers have certain idealized perceptions of relationships or apply kid knowledge to adult situations which still makes them kids, it would’ve been interesting too.

40. Dawson is literally dressed in different shades of beige. If that doesn’t say everything you need to know about his character --- which is intentional. But like jfc man.

41. I love that they can’t say “masturbate” so she has to say “walk your dog” I LOVE THE NINETIES.

42. And you know what, after that question was asked, the sheer heartbreak on Joey’s face and the sadness in Dawson’s eyes is done really well.

43. LMAO SO ANGSTY. No one does angst like the 90s.

44.  And legitimately, the ending of this pilot is great screenwriting because a change is noted, the beginning of the episode, Joey does end up staying the night, the end of the episode she leaves because they both realize it’s true that things are changing and yet Dawson answers her question about what time of day he masturbates and to who because they’re still Dawson and Joey. And that’s the way a pilot should be written.

OK. I’ve done it.

[strangevoyages]

Your advice was super encouraging, because I'm terrified of rejection and each time submitting a story has been nerve-wracking. Do you have any tips for people to "beat the slush pile"?

Hi there, sorry for answering this so late! I do indeed have some tips for beating the slush pile!

Keep in mind, though, that I was an editor at a literary publication that published short stories and poetry, so my advice might differ slightly if you’re thinking of submitting a novel. Here are some of the things I learned during my time reading through the literal slush pile:

1) Follow the publication’s guidelines to the letter. If they say they want 12 point, Times New Roman font, double-spaced, do that. If they say they want no more than 5,000 words or 20 pages, definitely do not risk sending in 21. Do not try to make your manuscript stand out by choosing a different font than what is asked for; do not trust that the strength of your writing will break through the rules in place and they’ll just have to publish your manuscript once it’s caught their eye! We read hundreds of manuscripts in a day, and the ones that didn’t bother to follow our guidelines, we threw away. If you can’t be bothered to follow what’s asked of you, the publisher can’t be bothered to read your manuscript.

2) Write a very short, appealing, and interesting cover letter. For novels, cover letters are the “intro” or blurb to every submitted manuscript that tells the person reading it what they should expect--the back of the book blurb for the project, essentially. It’s a way to grab a prospective editor’s attention and make them sit up in their seat. Cover letters are a staple of the industry and should accompany every submission, unless the publication specifically asks otherwise. 

For short stories, cover letters should be incredibly short (to match the medium), and should give the editor an insight into who you are and how that influenced the story you’re submitting, if applicable. Cover letters are a way to put “a face to the name” and create a more personable connection between you and the editor. You should put any and all credentials you have (awards you’ve won, previous published works, etc.) without being braggy, and it’s best if you somehow tie your description of yourself into your introduction of the story. The best cover letters I’ve read have gone something like:

“I am a roboticist who teaches engineering at Tulane University. To The Moon was inspired by my experiences building an AI companion last year, and the humor and wistfulness involved in becoming a parent to a robot. My works (mostly science fiction) have been published in places such as Glimmer Train and the Boston Review. I have been a long-time reader of [Publication Name] and I hope To The Moon can find a home in its pages. Thank you for taking the time to review my submission, and I very much hope to hear back from you.”

Sometimes it can help if you make a very brief connection in showing that you do read the publication you’re submitting to (no more than a sentence). Naming specific editors, stories or authors from previous editions, and et cetera can all help your case: it shows that you’re not just blindly spamming your work out to any and all publications and it usually makes editors pay attention more. But being sycophantic can also be obvious; no “It would be the greatest honor in entire my life to have my story published by such a prestigious, world-renowned journal!” Once we got a letter saying they’d name their firstborn child after our magazine if we published their work, which was funny, but not that effective in getting it published. 

In all cases, your cover letter should be interesting, snappy, succinct, and memorable. For novels, it should describe your story in an intriguing way, without hyperbole and exaggeration (do not write “To the Moon has been called the greatest story of all time and is said to rival War and Peace in its brilliance” or anything like that). You can look up examples of good cover letters online or even look at the backs of your favorite books for more help with that!

3) Don’t try to be cute. Be professional when submitting your work. Do not write anything like “I love ice cream and gerbils!” in your cover letter. Do not put a picture of a gorilla as your cover photo (in fact, don’t include a cover photo at all). Do not be cheeky or self-effacing and say “Most people think I’m on cocaine when they read my work. I look forward to hearing what you think!” Yes, I did receive every single one of these cover letters in real life. They are really funny and brightened my day, but boy did I get sick of seeing that gorilla. 

4) Write the strongest first page possible. I made it a policy to read through every submission I got my hands on, but many of my coworkers (and much of the industry) has a “one-page” policy. If you do not grab their attention within the first page (or first three pages, or first five for some people), it goes in the reject pile or back into the slush pile. It might sound harsh (we got into a lot of arguments over this), but that’s how it works: you have a lot of competition, and many stories have incredible openers. If you want to make it out of the slush pile, you have to start out strong and capture an editor’s interest right away. So have the most polished and engaging opening you can! Of course, we’ll notice if quality steeply drops after the first page, but this is my most important advice to writers seeking publication. No cliche first lines: “It was a dark and stormy night...” “It was that smile. That damned smile...” “But it was all a dream...” Punch the editor in the face with your opening!

5) Check for typos. This one is obvious, but if your manuscript has more than one typo, the editor’s going to lose faith in you, fast. (If your typo is within the first lines of your story, good luck.) Your manuscript should be impeccable when you send it in, and editors don’t tend to be all that forgiving when there are many other relentlessly-combed-through manuscripts waiting to take your place. If you have typos in your story, it implies that you didn’t care all that much about its submission, so the editors take that as a sign that they shouldn’t care all that much, either.

If any of this sounds scary or intimidating, I assure you it’s not: I actually think sending in stories for submission is a fun process if you don’t take rejection personally (I have been rejected from places more times than I can count! It’s just part of the business!). But following these simple tips will give you a big boost over the majority of submissions most editing teams see. Good luck and I hope this helps!

[crispyapplepies]

AkuRoku Defense pt 2

Axel and Roxas’s ship has had one of the most bizarre fandom journey’s i have ever come to witness. It has gone from being one of the most popular ships maybe ever, to being dead cancelled over a supposed age gap and I find that completely unfair, especially when it speaks to so many innocent people who emotionally depend on the ship, (yes innocent includes the spicy people because art literally is not a crime). So its time to defend it.

Brief Review on Nobodies vs Aging

First of all, l already explained in part 1 what the Nobodies Don’t Age thing means but I’ll go over it again briefly, since it can be confusing, though also many people seem to demand their hands be held rather than use their imaginations to understand. Even so, here’s the short version just for a review:

-A person in KH is made of a heart, body, and soul.

-The body reflects the heart in KH. (See: replica bodies taking on the appearance of the heart that’s inside them). 

-A nobody lacks a heart, making them just a body and soul. They’re advanced zombies of sorts.

Nobodies do not age because they have no heart for the body to reflect. This is why they won’t change until they form one. Change includes age

-Ergo, you can imagine any age you like for Axel to be nobodied, cuz he was frozen at that age and did not change for 10 years. Not until he met Roxas. 

We’ll come back to this again later.

Axel Loves Roxas Canonically

Second of all, Axel loves Roxas and you are allowed to interpret that as platonic, familial, or romantic, I don’t care as long as you’re not forcing that idea on others like the ship police. That said, people are allowed to explore how romantic this love potentially is. 

And what you might like to know is that the canon is even open to this. Axel’s love for Roxas is canonically expressed, and if you would like, you can even interpret that love as romantic. See below:

We are going to look at the japanese translation because AS ALWAYS good old SENA is here for the straights and erases the gay, like clockwork. 

In English, Axel says this:

Axel: I wanted to see Roxas. He...was the only one I liked... He made me feel...like I had a heart. It's kind of...funny... You make me feel...the same...

Axel’s line here in Japanese:

Axel: I wanted to see Roxas... I loved him. Being with him... it made me feel like I had a heart. I feel it from you, too... the same kind of....

You may notice that as romantic as the line “he made me feel like I had a heart” sounds, the original can be read as wAY gooier, specifically cuz of this word:

好き: "suki"

Now here’s the thing. Japanese is a pretty vague language which is why context is so important for these things, as well as what you say, and what you don’t say. 

“Suki” is a very key word here because it is often used in romantic confession scenes.

(I have no idea what this panel is from, I apologize lol) 

It CAN mean something casual, like “I love video games”, but considering Axel is saying this with his dying breath, I don’t think we should be treating it as some hyperbole. He is referring to a person and it is meaningful. However. It is still a word with plausible deniability. Japanese has several words for love, “ai” for example being one of the most inarguable means of referring to romantic love. So choosing “suki” still leaves room for the homophobes to disregard it as something not romantic. Which makes it objectively inconclusive. Here is the thing though… they specifically chose that word, suki, a word which IS so often used in a romantic context in many anime and manga. 

They also chose to use that word rather than something objectively platonic. Which means you also cannot conclude Axel did NOT mean it romantically. Given his devotion to Roxas, and the fact that they chose this word of all words for him to say… I’m personally going to assume it’s romantic. You are free not to interpret it that way. But I am because I am considering the fact that they did not choose something strictly platonic. 

(My translator friend actually freaked out when I showed her this, she’s translated and seen enough confession scenes to know what connotations that particular word comes with lol). 

If you’ve read my queer coding doc, you may recall I also go over how this is one of the most important tricks with queer coding. You write something that CAN be viewed as queer but with plausible deniability for straight people to ignore it. It’s a means of protecting oneself and the text from homophobic oppression. It is a legitimate practice. So even though it can be denied as a queer text, it can also very very well be viewed as a definite queer text. We are choosing to queer it here. It is not as explicit as it could be, but it is still very bold, suggestive coding considering the homophobic world we live in, and especially with KH2 being released in 2004. 

“But Age Gap!” (ughhhhh)

We’re back to this cuz I also finally have the Japanese version of that infamous page in the Day’s novel to look at.  

I hope you’ll forgive me if I get a little bit salty but I don’t like to repeat myself lol so I’m gonna try to keep this section short and to the point.

In this interview with Nomura, he expresses that nobodies do not age, and they exist as they were at the time of becoming a nobody. He then suggests Xemnas seems 30 ish.

Now I truly do not care to hold your hand through the process of thinking creatively because you should be using your own imagination, if you have one, to think critically and creatively about what this idea means.

Kingdom Hearts is a FANTASY game. Nobodies are a FANTASY concept. They can break ALL the rules about real life that you want them to. But I will go ahead and explain this for you even though I’ve already done it many times, in this very document even and in other meta posts.

The body reflects the heart. Nobodies are frozen as they are from the moment they are “born”, which is to say the moment they are created. Glorified zombies. They aren’t going to age unless they form a heart. Why does Xemnas look 30? He has a heart! Or he was formed 10 years after TerraNort defected. You tell me. Why did Ienzo age? I dunno, you tell me! Either he formed a heart and didn’t know it, (he’s passionate about his work, he loves Ansem the Wise, any number of things could’ve made him form a new heart), or he was nobodied later in life. Axel is frozen at whatever age he was when he was nobodied, all the while Ienzo could’ve been nobodied 10 years later. It’s a fantasy, and these are fantasy rules. That scenario can happen. YOU decide. Until the canon tells us for sure, your imaginations can run wild with explanations. Even if the canon does tell us, you can still imagine whatever you want for your own headcanons. Freedom is amazing, it’s salty and sweet. 

Now let’s talk about that annoying page in the Days novel people keep shoving in my face.

This one right here. The official english translation is this:

That’s not the worst translation I’ve seen them put out there. But let’s look closer at the Japanese:

 Here, Axel says he thinks Roxas is about 10 years separate from himself, but things like age don't exist for nobodies.

Already that’s making a lot more sense to me for nobodies since we are told nobodies do not age. As such Axel speaking like he is 10 years older would feels almost contradictory when he has no heart and cannot change. 

This wording is important. Recall me saying that Japanese is very vague so all of the context matters. No one is denying that 10 years passed between Birth By Sleep and Axel meeting Roxas. However. Nobodies don’t age.

(please dont make me explain that a third time in this essay alone)

The Japanese and English both express that age does not apply to nobodies, (as discussed above^^^^) and the Japanese furthers this with its wording. They have 10 years of separation between Axel being nobodied, and Roxas existing.  

Axel saying in English that Roxas is simply 10 years younger than himself is rather misleading considering the ambiguity of the original. I can’t fault the translators too much for not understanding this nobody concept so well because it is obviously confusing. However, I do not think Axel was saying Roxas is literally, in real life human somebody terms, 10 literal physical years younger than him. He is expressing that he became a nobody 10 years ago whereas this guy became a nobody very recently, and it shows with how little he can even function right now. A zombie who has been wandering around with no heart for 10 years meets a fresh zombie wandering around with no heart for 1 day. 

I know antis are gonna use it against us no matter what, but at least know that akuroku is not inherently pedophilia nor is it inherently an adult/minor ship.

In many of our headcanons, Axel was frozen at age 18 or 19, with Roxas being 16. Absolutely no one is required to view them with a big age gap because imagination is free and you literally have no right to police it, but also because the canon expresses these nobodies as beings outside of the realm of age. They do not operate under real life rules or somebody rules. Think of Steven Universe where Rose was thousands of years old but only “grew up” as a person when she fell in love with Greg, a human in his 20s-30s who asked her to consider other people’s feelings. Consider the mind of a nobody as a state of Neverland. You aren’t gonna age unless you step out of it and change. Mature. Isn’t it sad that Axel did not feel like he had a heart until Roxas? No wonder people ship it!

Coding is Obvious

Finally I wanna conclude on a simple thought. This interview right here? I’d be curious what the original Japanese actually says lol but the english translation of it says that romantic akuroku was not Nomura’s intent. 

Here’s the thing though. If you know anything about queer coding, you know that using romantic coding between 2 male characters is signaling something. It is not something you should ignore. It would not be there if the characters were meant to be viewed as objectively straight. And for something “unintentional”... there sure is a lot of coding at work here.

From Axel pinning Roxas down and asking him to come home in a very sexually suggestive pose,

to watching the sunset in sheer bliss together just enjoying the peace of reunion,

to watching the sunset together while talking about what LOVE is, specifICALLY romantic love,

To this. And I already told you what this was in Japanese.

I’m not saying Nomura lied…

But I am saying that a whole staff worked together to create these games, and it is very difficult for me to believe that no one thought to say “these characters appear to be romantic, let us change the scene to be more platonic” if the characters were not meant to be romantically suggestive. 

Tl;Dr I wanna live in the timeline where people let you ship akuroku lol

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

Gonna make full use of my ‘comic rant’ tag and roast Future State: Superwoman.

Spoilers! And yelling! Of the disgruntled kind!

So a few things at the start here: 1.) I wanted to love this book. I wanted it to be great. I wanted to give it the benefit of the doubt, in spite of some iffy stuff in the solicit text. So this rant is not coming from a place of having decided this was going to be awful ahead of time. 2.) My tolerance for bad Supergirl comics is pretty high! Takes a lot for me to actually come out and say that a particular issue is trash. Reader: This story is trash.

It’s not ‘middle-aged white guys writing/drawing a story about sending a minor to a potentially hostile planet fully nude’ trash, mind you. It’s the compost bin, rather than the landfill. Slightly nicer trash, but it still stinks to high heaven. Allow me to expand!

PROLOGUE - SUMMARY: ...I actually can’t summarize this comic b/c it would devolve into a lot of senseless yelling. We’ll just have to tease out this terrible plot as we go along. 

PART I - DEAD DOGS TELL BAD TALES: The comic opens with Kara standing at Krypto’s grave. That’s not why this comic is trash, but it bears mentioning. Because why. Why would you do this. 

PART II - IN WHICH IT ONLY GETS WORSE: So, Kara has a running inner monologue, and the main thing we gather from Kara’s thoughts is that it was Krypto who taught her to be a hero. On paper, that sounds very sweet! In practice, it reads as Kara having no moral center whatsoever—whatever good qualities she might possess, she did not learn from her parents, or her foster parents, or friends, or fellow heroes. Nor do they come from within Kara herself. Nope, t’was Krypto who taught Kara not to be a jealous rage monster. That is not hyperbole--Kara’s walking around angry about her cousin all the time and she’s like, ‘It was you, Krypto, who taught me not to judge, and to let go of anger.’ Listen, I love Krypto, but this? This is, as the youth would say, a bad look.

PART III - THOSE CERTAINLY ARE...SOME THEMES: The set-up here is that Kara is on the moon, and has established a sanctuary for alien refugees. That’s a dynamite idea! I love that! Buuuuut Kara didn’t look at the plight of alien refugees and say, ‘I want to help!’ Really, she didn’t even look at herself and say, ‘I don’t want others to feel like I’ve felt.’ No, she said, ‘Earth won’t accept me as a hero, and Clark didn’t name me protector of Earth, so. I’m out!’ (Honestly, if your moral compass is so whack that you need a dog to walk you back from Hulk-Smashing...can’t say I blame Clark for not picking you, Kara!) But apparently, the people on the moon don’t really like her either. And it is literally never explained why. There’s a whole montage of Kara fixing stuff and saving lives and all the moon folk just glare at her. This makes both the moon people AND Kara look like a**holes, because they come across as ungrateful, and she comes across as a glory hound. Thanks! I hate it! So the ‘peace’ Kara’s found on the moon isn’t really peaceful at all, cause she still resents her cousin, and people still don’t like her, in spite of the fact that she’s constantly performing acts of service for them. 

Also, side note, I’m just now realizing this is an entire population of alien refugees...and Kara is somehow still the odd one out. Like, Earth I get, because everyone else is a human and maybe freaked out by the super powers. But a bunch of aliens? WHY. Why did you do this. Why did this need to be set on the moon with alien refugees if you’re not going to interrogate Kara’s identity as an alien refugee herself AND all of the aliens are inexplicably humanoid in appearance and utterly ordinary in terms of power levels.  

Like. This is not the CW show, where they have a budget, and a huge ensemble cast to serve. YOU HAVE NO EXCUSE. AAARRRRRGHHHH.

PART III CONT’D: There’s also this weird ‘birthright’ element introduced...like, Clark and Jon stole Kara’s ‘right’ to be earth’s defender which is...a terrible reading of Kara’s modern origin. It brings in the idea that Kara is a ‘chosen one’ and because she didn’t get to be that chosen one, all of her hero work is for nothing. Never mind the whole central conceit of what makes Clark and Kara heroic...that they have this incredible power, and choose to do good with it. Nah...it’s all about her ‘right’ to protect the people of Earth! And mean ol’ Clark took that away! THANKS. I HATE IT. 

PART IV - A POOR USE OF SPACE: So, all of the Future State books kind of struggle with the issue of too much exposition, which is understandable. They have to introduce an entirely new status quo in a very limited amount of literal page space, so you *really* have to have a handle on how you allocate your time and focus.  

Introducing a brand new, lore-heavy heroic character who gets all of the development and dynamic art and pulls focus away from the character you’re meant to be writing is a bad use of a two issue limited series.

Like, this is a crappy Supergirl comic but it’s a great backdoor pilot for a Lynari ongoing, I guess. 

Imagine if in the Jon Superman book, they introduced a random, brand new best friend for Jon, and he got the big character arc instead of Jon. That’s something you save for an arc in an ongoing title, NOT A TWO ISSUE EVENT COMIC.  

Back to said new character, there’s a lot of forced attempts to parallel Kara and Lynari, but Lynari’s backstory is so confusing, rushed, and poorly explained that it’s like: okay, they’re both...angry? And the moon jerks hate them? ...uh. Okay.

(I’m gonna bring back my ‘why is this set on the moon, even’ question so that my ‘poor use of space’ header becomes a better joke.) 

PART V - I'M HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO...B/C THERE SURE AIN’T ONE HERE: I’ve already mentioned that Krypto was apparently Kara’s conscience so when Lynari’s aunt arrives to...kill them? (again, everything about Lynari’s backstory is rushed and poorly explained) Kara gets real mad and basically pulls a Gothel: ‘You want me to be the bad guy? Fine! Now I’m the bad guy.’ But thank goodness Lynari is there to tell Kara no! Don’t murder the giant aunt eel! Lynari then steals Kara’s powers and gives up the swamp jewel that’s been hidden inside their body and now their aunt is less murder-y!

WOW. Couldn’t even give the big damn hero moment to Kara in her own book, huh?

So the day is saved. It takes Kara a while to regain her powers, and it’s only then, when she’s no longer ‘above’ the moon jerks, that they’re like, ‘oh, we like her!’ There is a bit of narration about how that attitude is awful. But that narration is provided by Lynari. See, the inner monologue is no longer Kara’s thoughts, but rather it has switched to Lynari’s point of view. They’re telling us this story. And do you know why?

PART VI - WHY THIS COMIC *SUCKS*: KARA DIES. SHE’S THE FRIGGIN’ ‘SECOND GRAVE’ OF THE TITULAR ‘TWO GRAVES’

Fudge this comic to heck.

See, Kara dies on the moon, presumably of old age. She’s buried next to Krypto. And this random character who we’re suddenly supposed to care about tells us her story. Not Clark. Not the Danvers. Not Brainy. Not even one of the supporting cast members from her solo title. No one from Kara’s life is mentioned at all, save for Jon and Clark, and they’re pretty much relegated to flashbacks of Kara punching them. 

PART VII - TIME TO COMPARE DEATHS, I GUESS: First and foremost can I just say that I hate that’s a sentence that I’m typing about Kara in the year of our lord, 2021. But okay: Kara’s big famous death in Crisis stopped the entire DC universe cold. Everyone paused in the middle of the destruction of the multiverse to mourn her loss and honor her (GENUINELY HEROIC) sacrifice. Clark and Barbara--two established characters with a strong connection/relationship to Kara--offered lovely eulogies. 

This one: Kara gets to die of old age in obscurity after a lifetime of striving to be recognized and only achieving it by de-powering and serving a population of jerks. 

Not the warm and fuzzy ending you think it is!

(Meanwhile, Clark lives for millennia and spawns an entire dynasty of Els, all of ‘em out there, protecting the cosmos. I was looking forward to House of El in the hopes of maybe seeing some Kara stuff but NOPE. Thanks to Superwoman, we’re probably not gonna see any future Kara stuff beyond this! G R E A T)

And like, the argument could be made that this ending makes Kara happy. This is the life she chooses! She wants to be alone and garden on the moon! Except, we get zero insight from Kara regarding the remainder of her life. We only have Lynari’s narration and some montage shots...nearly all of which focus on other characters. But honestly, even if we did get Kara’s side of things, I doubt it would shed much light on her feelings, bEEECAUSE...

PART VIII - SUPER BLAND: This Kara really has no personality outside of ‘detached and vaguely bitter.’ I like Sauvage, I think she’s an incredibly talented artist, but here, Kara is stiff and her expression often reads as aloof. She’s very pretty, but it comes at the expense of being expressive. (And I know Sauvage can do expressive stuff...because Lyanari gets to be expressive.) Like...I love that shojo manga vibe but this is a Kara devoid of spark and warmth. 

...Like...Melissa Benoist’s portrayal of Kara is right there... 

I’ve already sort of touched on this but her inner monologue doesn’t have much personality either. She’s just parroting the same, ‘I need to do as Krypto taught me!’ nonsense for both issues. Until, of course, we shift to Lynari’s narration, and lose Kara’s thread entirely. 

PART IX - LET’S WRAP THIS UP: This book frustrates me to no end because it had a lot of stuff going for it. It’s got a female writer and artist--still a rarity for the Supergirl book--it’s a limited series mostly free of continuity and character baggage, and it’s not tied down to the grimdark cyberpunk stuff happening in the Gotham books. YOU COULD’VE DONE ANYTHING. And, once again, DC goes with a pitch that’s: Kara is angry, Kara resents Clark...and Kara dies.

It’s also happening...right as Kara has no dedicated ongoing title, the movie’s been shelved, the TV show is entering its sixth and final season, and all promotion has shifted to new CW and HBO shows. 

*screams into the void* 

MAAAAAAN I hate this book. I hate that it retroactively makes me hate the Andreyko run a little bit--a run that I took to be about a traumatized young woman forced to confront her grief, and who leans on a beloved animal companion for comfort. Here, Krypto is L I T E R A L L Y the reason Kara’s not constantly frying folks with her heat vision. 

I hate that this book has made me use the word ‘literally’ so much in this rant.

I hate that this could possibly be more in continuity than Millennium.

Remember Millennium? Where Kara was in like...five pages? And she was warm, and kind, and promised to help Rose because it was the right thing to do, and oh yes, WAS PRESIDENT OF EARTH?!??! AND A CLASSY OLD LADY!?!?!?!?! WHO WAS STILL ALIVE AND KICKIN’ IN THE FAR FLUNG FUTURE!?!?!?!?!

I hate that I’m using my lunch hour to rant about how much I hate this comic.  

I hate that DC editorial seems hell-bent on erasing the interesting aspects of Kara’s character to sand her down to ‘the angry one’ or ‘Batman 2.0′

PART X - LET’S END ON SOME (?) POSITIVES: Don’t read this book! Don’t do it! Don’t waste your time and money!

Instead, check out ANYTHING ELSE. If you want mom!Kara, read Tom Taylor’s ‘Last Daughters of Krypton’ in the DC Nuclear Winter special. If you want heroic oldlady!Kara, read Millennium. Honestly? Pick up anything by Bendis that has Supergirl in it. It is miles away better than this. You want angry Kara working through her grief? Andreyko, Red Lantern, even Infected. ANYTHING BUT THIS. HECK, grab Superman of Metropolis instead! That has bad Kara characterization but at least she doesn’t end up dead. 

Anyways. This comic is bad. I wish it wasn’t! And this is now the SECOND TIME IN A ROW that Kara’s book ends on a terrible note before the character disappears from monthly comics for an unknown period of time.  

*screams into the void again*

[quentineliot]

Country music. Everybody's favorite. Right? ;P

I grew up in the Southern US. "The South" people from the area would more affectionately call it. I've moved, and done a lot to separate myself from not only the so called culture there, but also it's music.

And I LOVE music. Sang in the car to every song that came on the radio from the age I could make sound, to 21. My mom always tells this story about how I would cry as a baby unless Vince Gill was playing on cassette.

It's been around 7 years since I've turned on a country radio station. But because I grew up on the music (and classic rock like zztop) occasionally a country ear worm will stop by. And being a fully realized transman, it makes sense looking back at the lyrics of many of these songs, why I didn't notice sooner. And why telling my parents was incredibly terrifying.

Not EVERY song uses the "sweet girl with an overprotective dad that just a good ol boy wants to marry and raise a family with" formula. But it's a Lot of them. And if it's not a song about a guy just wanted to settle down with a pretty girl who can cook a good meal, it's about jealousy. And how (typically) women act in these songs is sung at the top of your lungs, about how she'll fuck up his car, steal his dog, or murder him and his mistress.

Miranda Lambert has a song about burning everything down and lighting it on fire. Which, is honestly a mood. But having been In The South, people don't think it's hyperbolic. There are a LOT of people that, if they were willing to bring Dixie Chicks back into their hearts, would be doing some Goodbye Earl's of their own. (Though, this song is a better example of justice taken, and of all the references so far, I think I'm most comfortable with this one.)

Take a look at these lyrics from Shania Twain's "Any Man of Mine"

"Any man of mine better be proud of me

Even when I'm ugly, he still better love me

And I can be late for a date that's fine

But he better be on time"

Okay so I'm with you on the first two lines. Great start. But you're saying you don't want your man to be late but You* can be late. Double standard and not okay. This was music I absorbed as like, idk, a 6 years old? I'd need math and Google and I don't feel like it. Moving on.

"Any man of mine'll say it fits just right

When last year's dress is just a little too tight

And anything I do or say better be okay

When I have a bad hair day"

First two lines, personal preference I suppose. I'd rather be told if I don't look good and change my clothes. Not everyone is me, a lot of people would much rather get "yes baby you look amazing!" always. Top two lines, good.

But ANYTHING YOU DO OR SAY BETTER BE OKAY WHEN YOU HAVE A BAD HAIR DAY?!!! Excuse me???!!! Absolutely not.

-------

I mentioned Carrie Underwood's Before He Cheats earlier. All you really need is the chorus. I don't need Google for this one.

And I dug my key in to the side of his pretty little suped up four wheel drive

Carved my name into his leather seats

I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights

Slashed a hole in all four tires

Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats

TLDR: he cheated on me so I destroyed his car. And while this song was a fucking Anthem when it came out, any woman who exhibited even slightly agressive behavior was Shut the fuck Down. Make it make sense. The song is about criminal activity so, clearly, anyone who does this should be charged. So why wouldn't people let women and girls show anger in a productive way?

Trisha Yearwoods "She's in Love with the Boy"

Is literally just romanticizing getting married at 16 or 18 or to your first love.

Faith Hill's "This Kiss" gets a pass but only because of "Cinderella said to Snow White, how does love get so off course?" And I thought they were in love with each other 😂

I can't even begin to unpack Fancy by Reba McEntire. And Reba is legendary, she's been making music since before I was born and I love her. It's just, that song.. Eugh. Yikes.

I've been trying to find other songs that absolutely put "go find a nice boy and have babies" into my brain at an early age, and I stumbled on George Strait and I know a few of his songs by heart. Oceanfront Property. All my exes live in Texas. Check yes or no. Amarillo by morning. I can't find anything wrong with any of his music. So it CAN be done.

I'm just salty about the amount of redneck inspiration porn I was made to sing as a child. (my mother made me sing at parties. I preferred singing alone) No other genre of music does this. Rock music isn't over here all "look pretty, shut up, and find a good husband" 🤨

I feel I should mention that there have been recent songs that defy this formula. ",This ain't my momma's broken heart" by Miranda Lambert. Taylor Swift has a unique writing style so I'm sure she's written SOMEthing that's not just trucks beer women muddin or whatever else today country is about? There's a couple about whiskey I think. It's always whiskey or beer..

Country music is like all about family, or something sad and mourning that loss. Heaven, angels, wings, gods watching over you, memaw is watching over you, you're not alone I'm there with you even tho I'm on a truck 100 miles away, think of me when you hear the wind blow kiddo🙃

Finally, to be clear, I don't hate any of the songs Ive referenced or pulled lyrics from. They were my entire childhood. Lonestar was my shit, I choreographed a dance to Shania Twain's "Man I feel like a woman" and did it in front of an auditorium of people, I still know every word of Suds in the bucket by Sara Evans and anything Martina McBride I've sung hundreds of times. It's beautiful music. But dang does country music and the south know how to brainwash people. It's scary.

[mistresseast]

can you explain in more detail why you think the PT weren't good friends for akiren? i'm not asking out of hate or to start drama, i just never interpreted things that way and i'm genuinely curious. i don't think them being brainwashed by maruki makes them "bad friends", but i don't know if that's what you meant either. i'd love to read a proper explanation on this that isn't just people arguing in the notes of that post.

Hi! Yeah, I know the ~discourse~ climate is pretty touchy and not a good place to exchange ideas, so I’ll do my best to put my thoughts on this matter into words. 

Settle in, bc this one is long.

I’ll start off by saying I don’t dislike the PT, nor do I think they’re bad people, and honestly I think they love Joker a lot! Ryuji calling Akira after his fake death and talking about how his ideas on what makes a hero have changed because of Akira genuinely makes me emotional, along with dozens of other scenes with the thieves! They’re good kids who could be really good friends to Akira but that’s not what’s shown in the game. I don’t think it’s controversial to say Akira’s relationships with all of his friends are transactional. That’s kind of the point, all of his confidants arise out of deals, give and take, and in the metanarrative of the game, that’s how it works. You as the player help these characters solve their problems, and through ranking their confidants up, you get access to more gameplay perks. So it’s pretty even!! But like,,Akira, the character, isn’t the player. There’s no in-story mechanic by which he can cash in friendship points for being-good-at-killing-things prizes. Yes, he uses those abilities to not die in the metaverse, but there is no literal, in-universe way to explain how hanging out with someone translates to [insert gameplay perk here]. So you have to look at what is physically happening in the story. Akira hangs out with the PT, stands there while they have drama with another irrelevant character, and then one way or another their problems get solved and they swear to be Akira’s blood brother or whatever. Akira is a crutch for these characters, and they say multiple times that they wouldn’t have been able to do what they did without him. So all of their shit gets handled and Akira gets?? Like actually gets?? What? Inquiries about his well-being? Offers to help him? Questions about his life, his interests? No,,,not really,, But he gets access to a super powerful persona!! Yay!!! Bc everyone knows he’s just a little shadow-killing machine, right? And even the relationships he does get something tangible (as in separate from the mechanics of the game) out of, like Kawakami’s, are built on the notion that if Akira stops providing for whatever reason, the relationship will end. So essentially, Akira is under the pressure of filling whatever role his friends need him in for however long at any time, and he’s been led to believe that if he stops or fails, he will stop receiving any reciprocal care and acceptance.

(And I know this is all gameplay stuff, I know it has to be like this to codify the complicated process of human relationships, I know all of that, I’m just trying to find a deeper layer bc that’s what I do.)

This whole thing comes into pretty clear focus for me during the third semester when you visit everyone in the false reality. Everyone is happy to see him, of course, but they’re clearly wrapped up in their own happiness. Which is understandable, again, I’m not saying the PT need to be attached to Akira to be good friends, but it all still feels off to me.

If they know Joker, then they’d know it’s weird that he just shows up and starts asking these pointed questions while they’re in the middle of something. All of their other interactions with him have been led by them. Yeah, Joker approaches them bc the player has decided to hang out with them, but the other character always chooses the activity and leads the discussion. Akira showing up out of nowhere and asking them to “remember” and “move on” and whatnot should be raising some major red flags. And it clearly does, since their memories do start to return, but they’re all too scared of losing their happiness that they nope out of the conversation as soon as possible, without stopping to consider why Joker might be trying to reach out to them like that. They’re his friends; they should know he wouldn’t just be trying to hurt them or make them unhappy. After all, their entire relationship with him up til that point has been exclusively about Joker trying to help them. This doesn’t make the PT bad people, running away is a totally natural reaction in that situation. They’re just kids, and their minds have been manipulated to a point, but it’s not like they don’t remember Joker or the way they’ve grown since meeting him. In fact many of them mention how much they’ve matured recently, but they never actually relate that back to Akira, despite him being the primary driving force behind most of their personal arcs, even though they definitely remember him. Translation vagueness or deliberate nod to the idea that the PT don’t actually credit Akira with all the hard work he did after their initial lip service? Hmmm. Anyway, their failure to recognize that Joker is struggling just demonstrates to me what was set up all throughout their confidant links, that their relationships are transactional and that they don’t necessarily consider Joker and his individual needs outside of what he provides for them. And when they no longer need him bc that hole has been filled, he simply doesn’t occupy the same place of importance in their lives. 

Makoto’s flashback in particular stood out to me, bc it was from a moment where she was specifically talking about feeling like she finally found a place to belong with the Phantom Thieves (and by extension, with Joker), but then she desperately tries to brush it off. Obviously that sense of belonging wasn’t meaningful enough to her for her to want it back. And I’m not blaming her, of course, any teenager would choose to have their father back over being in a vigilante group lmao, I just thought it was telling that the devs decided to show us a scene that was originally meant to be heartwarming as an example of the harsh reality Makoto wants to forget. All of the flashbacks are from defining moments for the thieves, but that one specifically got me like *thinking emoji*

So his friends are hesitant, despite the fact that they must know something is wrong. It’s understandable, they all stand to lose a lot if someone messes with the status quo. I genuinely don’t think I would react any differently. But there is someone who reacts differently and against his own self-interest. It’s Goro, the one who has arguably the most to lose, who doesn’t turn away from Akira. He seeks Akira out and teams up with him to uncover what’s really going on, even though he has every reason to believe that prodding too deep will literally mean the end of his life. He forces Akira and himself to face the truth because he knows anything else would just be an insult to what they’ve suffered so far. He’s the only one who never flinches, and that, more than any of his friends’ come-to-jesusing (which Akira still has to initiate) is what Akira needs in that situation. For the first time (outside of the brief instances in the tutorial levels), we see a situation where Akira is actually the dependent one, the one who needs help, who needs support. And the only one who has ever provided that, unconditionally, without demanding anything in return, is Goro. I could go into how Goro’s confidant blows all of the others out of the water in terms of building both himself AND Akira as characters, but it’s been said already and by smarter people than me. But basically, despite competition being a core theme of their relationship, Goro is the only character who is portrayed as Akira’s equal. Their contests are all in the name of improving not just Goro, but Akira too. Goro is the only character who expresses an interest in Akira’s inner life and development, and as such he knows Akira better than anyone else. So when Maruki tries to trap them all in a gilded birdcage, Goro won’t stand for it and he knows Akira won’t stand for it either. That’s why he’s so betrayed if you choose to accept the dreamworld. You’re negating the basis of your entire relationship with him and going against your own principles. Out of every character in the game, the one who knows Akira best and refuses to abandon him even when that could mean his own death is Goro Akechi.

I want to reiterate: I do not hate or even dislike the PT!! And tbh I don’t really think they “abandoned” Akira. That post, imo, is supposed to be kind of hyperbolic. Unless it’s referring to how many of them literally sprint away when he comes to talk to them lol. I look at it more like a commentary on how thoughtlessly the PT act as soon as their wishes are granted. I know it’s set up linearly for story purposes, but isn’t it kind of sad how no one checks up on Akira in the week he’s going around talking to people? Especially after he’s been acting so comparatively weird? It’s not unusual that they might be caught up in other stuff, but while you’re going around and visiting everyone, you don’t get a single text or call from ANY of the thieves, for a whole week!! Goro even comments on it directly with his pointed little “I’m sure you’re just as close as you were before” comment. God, he’s such a bitch. Ultimately, the PT do get their acts together, and it’s partially out of the realization that Akira is struggling alone against something and needs their help, which I love and appreciate. I think they are good friends who want to support Akira, but they can’t understand him past the role they’ve placed him in, and until they do, they’ll never be able to be what he needs. Akira loves his friends and knows he can rely on them in most ways, but those relationships will always be dogged by the pervasive fear that he must constantly earn the right to have the relationship at all. What he needs MOST is someone he doesn’t have to perform for, and from what we see in the game, none of the thieves fit that bill. Except Goro. 

I know this was long and rambly and probably pretty disjointed but I wanted to be as thorough as possible and all of my thoughts just sort of gushed out. Obviously ymmv about all of this depending on how you interpret the game, but this is what I arrived at thanks to my analysis so this is what I have for you! Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Happiness Begins

Part 19

Chapter Summary: Jared needs some time to come around to the idea of his best friend and his sister, but will he be able to get over all the lies? 

Warnings: Language, angst, descriptions of anxiety, a mild physical altercation

Word Count: 2.1K+

Author’s Note: Hey guys! Happy Sunday! First, I’d like to say a huge thank you to all of you still here with me. This past semester was a difficult one for a number of reasons. Until I started writing again, I hadn’t realized how much I truly missed these two and being in this little world I created. It was a truly therapeutic experience to get back to it. Also, I already have our sequel all outlined and ready to start. xoxo Alex

Catch up with the series masterlist and check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!

Jared was gone before she woke on Monday. Well, not technically before she woke as she didn’t actually sleep. The sound of the front door startled her before her alarm for the morning had gotten the chance to. She wasn’t surprised. Jared didn’t come out of his room the rest of the weekend. Only once for food and even then he just stockpiled what he could into his room.

This wasn’t exactly what she had expected, but again, it didn’t surprise her. After he had stormed out, she rolled out of bed and decided then to start her day. What difference did it make whether she got up now or stared at her ceiling for another half hour anyway? 

When Clif showed up with the car at his normal time, Jensen was already in the back seat. He smiled at her as she climbed in next to him, the corner of his mouth dropping when she shook her head at him. Jensen nodded his understanding.

Y/n stared out the window as the lights of the city flashed passed them, one hand on her chin as she chewed on the nail of her thumb. Jensen’s fingers wrapped around her wrist and pulled her hand to his face, kissing the back of her knuckles. She turned to face him, a weak smile on her lips.

“Take a breath.” Y/n did as she was told, breathing in deeply and holding it for a beat before letting it back out. A move she had perfected years ago when her anxiety first started to go from bad to worse.  She repeated the deep breath a few more times, allowing the action to help the stuttering in her chest slow down to a more bearable rate.

“It’s gonna be a long day.” She noted. Jensen nodded at her and linked his fingers with hers. There wasn’t much else to say between them. She had kept him up to date via text all weekend, so they were on the same page when it came to Jared. 

Friday, she had said all she could to her brother. If he couldn’t accept her apology, what else was she to do? They both knew they had messed up and the guilt that has settled in her chest was suffocating. At this point though, she wouldn’t take any of it back. Jensen was the light she hadn’t known she was missing. He was her safe place, the one person that somehow knew her better than she knew herself. There was nothing that could persuade her from giving that up. Maybe it was selfish, but after everything she figured it was her turn to be a little selfish. If Jared had been there to peer over their shoulders, who’s to say they would have been able to truly find each other. No, that was a risk she couldn’t take. 

They spent the rest of the ride in silence, neither knowing what would greet them when they reached set. With the tension in all of their relationships sure to be noticeable by everyone else, it was best that her and Jensen kept up their facade. The last thing either of them wanted was all their dirty laundry out for everyone to see, something they had come to an agreement on during their many conversations over the weekend. 

Jensen led her towards the makeup trailer as she trailed behind a step. Crew greeted them on their way like usual, a ‘good morning’ here and a nod of a head there. Y/n noted as they walked past the trailers that Jared’s was dark. This didn’t mean much as the set was a large space, and he could still be anywhere. She knew what time he left the apartment, but she couldn’t be sure when he actually arrived on the set, if he had yet done so at all.

Jensen stepped up and pulled open the door to the makeup trailer, allowing her to enter first. She was greeted by a warm smile from Trish as she peeked over Jared’s head. Jared’s body stiffened as he caught his sister's eye in the mirror. Neither of them said a thing, allowing a heaviness to blanket the inside of the trailer. Neither looked away from each other either, their looks of longing and sadness literally mirroring each other’s. They stayed that way for what felt like minutes when in reality it was less than thirty seconds. Just enough time for Jensen to enter behind her, his visage in the mirror stealing Jared’s attention. 

“Morning.” Trish broke the silence in the trailer as the door shut behind Jensen, who muttered a noncommittal response along with Y/n. Trish’s brow furrowed slightly, now picking up on the energy in the room, though she chose not to say anything. 

“It seems like the sun might actually be on our side today.” Y/n noted, trying to break the tension and pull Trish’s focus. They had an outside shoot, and originally the forecast had called for rain, switching at the last minute to partly cloudy. 

“As long as Jared here doesn’t sweat off all my hard work.” Trish teased as she leaned back to inspect her work. Jared’s clipped voice cut through the light conversation.

“Am I done?” Trish nodded, a soft ‘of course’ leaving her mouth. The poor woman had no idea what to make of the sudden mood shift in Jared. He jumped up from his chair and exited the trailer, the door slamming behind him. Y/n flinched at the noise and shared a quick, tense look with Jensen before Trish rounded on them, the furrow in her brow insisting on some answers.

“What’s up with him?” 

“I’m not exactly sure.” Y/n lied, the words tumbling out of her mouth like vomit. “I haven’t spoken to him at all today.” That part wasn't a lie, though she didn’t feel any better about it. The purse in Trish’s lips had Y/n’s heart rate picking up for a moment as she tried to assess if the woman believed her. Trish hummed under her breath, content for now not to ask anymore questions. She collected her things in silence, bidding Jensen and Y/n a goodbye in no time. Y/n let out the breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. 

“I can’t do this.” She hung her head as the tears returned. Never before did she think she could cry this much, and she already admits to being a crier. She had been so sure that her tear ducts would have run dry from how much they were being used. A sob shook her chest as she just let go in the presence of just Jensen.

“Hey, come here.” Jensen’s hands found her waist and pulled her to sit in his lap, her legs laying across his own. “Please, don’t cry. Jared just needs more time.” His thumbs wiped the streams flowing down her cheeks away, the action in vain as the salty liquid just kept coming. 

“I know, but I’m not sure how much longer I can handle this. I’ve never seen my brother like this and I just feel so damn guilty.” 

“I get it, I do. But honey, you’ve said your peace. What else can you do?” Jensen placed a soft kiss to her forehead. Her breathing was beginning to even out as she got control of her emotions, allowing the proximity of Jensen to ease her mind. At least, she knew that she was not alone in all of this. There was one person that could understand this feeling in her gut. A soft hiccup fell from her lips before she spoke again. 

“Beg for his forgiveness.” She suggested.

“If that’s really what you want to do, I’m here for you.” Jensen promised her, his eyes intent on hers as he made his promise known. A hint of a smirk appeared at the corner of his lips, offering her a view of her favorite dimple. He understood the hyperbole in her statement, something that she could never repay him for. Even still, she wasn’t completely opposed to the idea. It was just something to add to her list of the ways he had changed her life and view on the world.

****

The rest of their day consisted of much of the same. Jared was absent when he absolutely was not needed on the set. Though both of them still delivered Sam and Dean like they have been for the past fifteen years. Not that she doubted either of them. They were still professionals after all. The one big difference became their demeanor in between takes. 

Y/n could tell people were clearly suspicious of both of the men’s activity, it was written all over their faces. Though, not one of them chose to comment, much like their dear Trish. She wasn’t sure it would last. Someone was bound to open their mouth sooner or later. She was just surprised it came almost a week and a half later. 

Things had not gotten better in any sense of the word. Jared hadn’t said anything to either of them since the incident. Only interacting with Jensen when the script dictated so. It was the director who opened his mouth after the two men were struggling to connect for the first time in fifteen years. 

“Okay, what is up with you two?” The man came out from behind the camera, his ball cap low on his head as he yelled cut. He hadn’t been getting the performance out of the boys for the dramatic brother scene they were filming today, and he knew something was up. 

“Nothing.” Jared’s nostrils flared as he spoke, one of his little indicators that Y/n had picked up on growing up. He was annoyed and trying desperately to hide it. 

“Bullshit. You guys haven’t so much as said two words to each other this whole episode.” 

“It’s just stress. We are coming up on the end here and I think we are all getting a little emotional.” Jensen stepped up to offer an explanation. 

“I’ve known you both for years. I’ve seen you go through all sorts of things, and never before have I seen this coldness between the two of you.” 

“It’s nothing. I’m sorry. We will get it right.” Jensen promised. Though he didn’t seem convinced, the director left the two standing on stage and returned to his seat behind the camera. 

“I’m so sick of you.” Jared’s voice was soft, but Jensen heard it. 

“Excuse me?” He rounded on Jared.

“You heard me. You always think you know best. Nice cover story for Bill, didn’t want to tell him the real reason why I can’t even look at you?” Jared hissed. Jensen had no idea where this was coming from. Sure, he knew Jared was pissed, but he had never seen him act out like this. It was scaring him to be completely honest.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think you would want our business spreading around the set. You know how gossip can travel, especially when it involves the leads.” Jensen shot back. Trish nudged Y/n’s shoulder when she noticed the heated exchange between the actors. Y/n whipped around to where she had indicated. From her spot, she couldn’t hear exactly what was happening, but it was a safe bet that it had to do with her.  

“I’m not the one that has anything to be ashamed about. I’m the victim here.” Jared shoved Jensen. The force wasn’t anything that the man could’ve done at his full strength, but it was enough for Jensen to stumble backwards on his feet. Jensen made no move to react, instead simply accepting the punishment that Jared was dealing out for him. 

It was what happened next that was a blur. Jensen’s lack of a reaction seemed to only piss Jared off more, and he moved to push Jensen harder this time. Jensen dodged the movement, ready this time, only for a swarm of crew members to step between them before things could escalate even further.

Y/n couldn’t focus on anything but the sound of her heart thrumming in her ears as the tears threatened to fall once again. The sounds of grumbled shouts from the director for everyone to take a thirty minute break sounded like she was underwater. Jared was pushed back from the set by someone with their hand against his shoulder. Jensen walked off on his own in the opposite direction. 

What did it feel like to be kicked in the gut? Right now she was sure the feeling in her abdomen was a close approximation. The two men she loved most in this world were at odds because of her. Panic, guilt and fear all swirled into one nauseating sensation. She just wanted the world to stop, if only for a few hours, so she could get her shit together. So she could figure out a way to fix all of this. She had to fix this.

Part 20

Forevers: @spn-impala​​ @22sarah08​​ @turtlepad​​ @callmekda​​ @chaldei​​ @hobby27​​ @cowboysnwinchesters​​ @tranquility-or-chaos​​ @pikabootoyouchu​​ @dawnie1988​​ @grease222​​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @polina-93​​ @clarinette07​​ @moonlight-babeh​​ @suckerforfanfics​​ @witandnargles​​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan​ @geeksareunique​ @akshi8278​

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