#I’ve been using this metaphor a lot over the last year or so and it’s really fleshed itself out

[thymewayster]

Really good Twitter thread originally about Elon Musk and Twitter, but also applies to Netflix and a lot of other corporations.

Full thread. Text transcription under cut.

John Bull @garius

One of the things I occasionally get paid to do by companies/execs is to tell them why everything seemed to SUDDENLY go wrong, and subs/readers dropped like a stone. So, with everything going on at Twitter rn, time for a thread about the Trust Thermocline /1

So: what's a thermocline?

Well large bodies of water are made of layers of differing temperatures. Like a layer cake. The top bit is where all the the waves happen and has a gradually decreasing temperature. Then SUDDENLY there's a point where it gets super-cold.

That suddenly is important. There's reasons for it (Science!) but it's just a good metaphor. Indeed you may also be interested in the "Thermocline of Truth" which a project management term for how things on a RAG board all suddenly go from amber to red.

But I digress. The Trust Thermocline is something that, over (many) years of digital, I have seen both digital and regular content publishers hit time and time again. Despite warnings (at least when I've worked there). And it has a similar effect. You have lots of users then suddenly... nope. And this does effect print publications as much as trendy digital media companies. They'll be flying along making loads of money, with lots of users/readers, rolling out new products that get bought. Or events. Or Sub-brands.

And then SUDDENLY those people just abandon them. Often it's not even to "new" competitor products, but stuff they thought were already not a threat. Nor is there lots of obvious dissatisfaction reported from sales and marketing (other than general grumbling). Nor is it a general drift away, it's just a sudden big slide. So why does this happen? As I explain to these people and places, it's because they breached the Trust Thermocline.

I ask them if they'd been increasing prices. Changed service offerings. Modified the product.

The answer is normally: "yes, but not much. And everyone still paid" Then I ask if they did that the year before. Did they increase prices last year? Change the offering? Modify the product?

Again: "yes, but not much."

The answer is normally: "yes, but not much. And everyone still paid." "And the year before?"

"Yes but not much. And everyone still paid."

Well, you get the idea. And here is where the Trust Thermocline kicks in. Because too many people see service use as always following an arc. They think that as long as usage is ticking up, they can do what they like to cost and product.

And (critically) that they can just react when the curve flattens But with a lot of CONTENT products (inc social media) that's not actually how it works. Because it doesn't account for sunk-cost lock-in.

Users and readers will stick to what they know, and use, well beyond the point where they START to lose trust in it. And you won't see that. But they'll only MOVE when they hit the Trust Thermocline. The point where their lack of trust in the product to meet their needs, and the emotional investment they'd made in it, have finally been outweighed by the physical and emotional effort required to abandon it. At this point, I normally get asked something like:

"So if we undo the last few changes and drop the price, we get them back?"

And then I have to break the news that nope: that's not how it works.

Because you're past the Thermocline now. You can't make them trust you again.

[natugood]

One thing which has helped me better conceptualize self love and self care is thinking of completing necessary tasks/chores as giving my future self a hug.

Like today, I feel like trash. I barely had the energy to get out of bed. But on Monday this week I had a lot more energy that I wanted to channel productively, so I made a bunch of food and essentially meal prepped for the rest of the week. I could have spent that time reading or playing video games, but I had the energy to do things I knew I needed to do and would continue to need to do, so I did chores instead. Thanks to my actions on Monday, I don’t have to worry about what I’m going to eat today. I can just go to the fridge and grab pre-made breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks, and I can focus on resting and working to feel better.

On Monday I chose not to relax to give my future self a hug. And today, my future self received that hug from past me. I don’t have to do chores today because past me said “don’t worry future me, I love you, I can handle this.” And future me is saying the same thing to present me. Chores which I should do today (like laundry) can wait because past me did them and future me can do them, and future me also knows I needed rest, so future me is saying “hey past me, focus on resting and feeling better. Because you took care of yourself, I’ve got the energy to help you out!”

If I try to force myself to do more than I am capable of today, it makes it harder for future me to do the things they need to do, and just like past me, I know future me is trying their best and has my best interests at heart. The best thing I can do for future me is to rest and take care of myself so they can do what they need to do to take care of me, and they can take care of even more future me’s who also need time to rest and recover.

Sometimes it’s hard for me to stop working and rest because I just want to keep giving my future self hugs, because I worry that if I rest, I’ll make things harder for future me. But if future me doesn’t have the energy to do what they need to do, then they can’t help themselves or future versions of themself either. If future me has no energy, then not only will they not have the energy to function or do chores, but they also won’t have the energy to have fun and share their love with others.

It’s ok to take time to rest and relax. You’re helping your future self out by giving them the energy they need to succeed, and you’re accepting help from past you, who took the time and energy to make sure you could rest and relax when you need. Both resting and doing things you need to do are a way to say “I love you” to past, present, and future versions of yourself. Taking care of yourself is loving yourself.

And if you are doing your best but are still struggling, and you need more rest than it takes to be able to take care of yourself? That’s ok too! Then you know it’s time to ask for help. Asking for help is another way to give your future self a hug, and receiving help is receiving a hug from your past self. Taking the time to rest is important, and people you love know that. If they can help you, then the sooner you can feel better and share your love with them! Your past self shared their love with another person, and that person can now share their love with you by helping you and by helping you help yourself!

[colleybri]

Cassian x Bix and Rebelcaptain: Please let these ships be friends !

I ‘ship’ Cassian x Bix AND Cassian x Jyn. I see there has been some conflict in the past when the “new woman” was first brought in with the series, some that remains now, and I’m both saddened and bemused by that.

Rebelcaptain for me is a canon relationship… to a certain extent. I have no doubt that these brave heroes would have ended up together had they lived. That’s why I love it… the whole beautiful tragedy of what might have been, and the loyalty that binds people together when making a sacrifice like this. Were they actually in love, in canon? For me – no. Not yet. And that’s important for my personal enjoyment of Rogue One, especially its ending. As the novelisation stresses, Cassian dies without knowing Jyn as “There wasn’t the time”. And I simply don’t believe you can love someone without knowing them . But I enjoy the idea of exploring what would have happened had they lived. They are a perfect loyal “battle couple”, definitely my favourite fanon SW couple and great to imagine together. I see Rebelcaptain also as a way of giving them the happy ending they deserved. Oh - and the chemistry between Felicity Jones and Diego Luna on-screen is absolutely electric. In short and again: I have no doubt that they would have fallen in love had they lived and would have been perfect for each other. And they are a perfect fanon ship.

(^^ And I I think this is the exact moment in canon when they both acknowledge the loss of what might have been. It’s just heartbreakingly beautiful… )

Cassian x Bix - I don’t even think of it as a ‘ship’ per se as it is a 100% canon relationship, and one that is currently ongoing as we wait for Andor S2.. It’s fascinating to me – 17 years of friendship that has occasionally blossomed into a romantic/sexual relationship. It’s a genuinely unusual set up too. I’ve read a few takes that they are “over each other” by the time of the start of the series, to which I want to say … watch again, closely! They certainly have moved on to date different people, but it’s also very clear from their interactions (especially in the intense scene in Ep 7) that there is still a lot of extremely deep feeling between them – even if some of it is very negative. In the S1 production notes, the show’s creator Tony Gilroy says that they “are meant to be together… but it’s been impossible all these years. Now, she’s done with him … he’s burnt every last bridge .” Why? The series also provides the answer – Cassian is in many ways an absolute mess at the start of the season and Bix was quite rightly fed up with him as a boyfriend. He’s completely unreliable, likes short-lived affairs (often with married women - so no risk of commitment!), isn’t working regularly and has debts all over the place. This largely stems from his “unresolved childhood trauma”. He has a fear of “leaving people behind” and despite having a lot of love to give “ is so scared of being loved”. But he and Bix nonetheless prove to be incredibly loyal friends and their love in this platonic sense clearly runs very deep indeed. They have known each other since he was 10 so she is also something like a sister figure. Bix is still very protective of Cassian and takes personal risks for him… and he finally comes to appreciate this and pay back his metaphorical debt to her in the finale. The question now is what season 2 holds for them, if anything.

(^^ I love the way she is using her fingertips to push his hand off, as if to avoid the risk of too much touch. The gesture and look that says “Please don’t try and get close to me again because we both know how bad that is for us… but I’m such a total idiot when it comes to you that I will still very unwisely go out of my way to help you, especially when you look at me like that so please just don’t”)

Does loving their messy and complicated relationship mean that I want Cassian and Bix to ‘end up together’ ? No, and the obvious additional point is that they don’t! They are both going to be very different people at the start of S2 and over the following years of the story . Bix has been traumatised; Cassian has been radicalised. And that’s just the start. Perhaps they quickly drift apart. Perhaps some kind of betrayal is involved. Perhaps one or both of them will want to commit again to a relationship, but it’s impossible because of the demands of the rebellion (like Vel /Cinta). Perhaps Bix “ends up with” someone else (Brasso, ideally, especially if they both survive the season). Perhaps they will get back together at least for a while and enjoy a little last happiness before inevitable heartbreak. Perhaps all, some or none of these. But none of that stops me from loving and appreciating what they do have, what they have had up to now, and the intriguing dynamics of when they do interact on screen. Bix x Cassian attracts me as a fanfic ship because it’s all about exploring what is there and how it came to be, which is why I currently don’t write them beyond the present time of season 1. I’m waiting to see what happens next in Canon, as it were, because that to me is an important part of writing them. Meanwhile, I’m enjoying analysing the relationship by imagining them in the past.

So for me Bix x Cassian in no way impacts on Jyn x Cassian or vice versa, especially if you apply… real life principles rather than the ideals of fandoms: “soulmates” and OTPs. Many people – most people – will have a beautifully intense and loving relationship with more than one person at different times of their lives. I’m old – trust me on this one.

^^ Both relationships in these two scenes go way beyond romance. In the first - many years of close and loyal friendship. In the second: a bond created through brave and selfless sacrifice together. And for both: Cassian’s absolute hatred of being “someone who leaves people behind”: the quality that I love best about him. And saving each other. Literally and metaphorically.

And oh… it’s beautiful. Both moments are beautiful.

Edit: I won’t do any speculating here about the content of the sizzle-reel trailers. Except to say that there’s nothing in them that detracts from the emotional power of both ships. They can continue to happily coexist. 

[satorugojjo]

I don’t think there’s a single book BookTok has promoted in the last couple years that’s turned out to be an actually good “you cannot miss this read” which now makes me and so many others I know avoid it as a whole.

A lot of BookTok books seem to be specific for very young or very new readers who haven’t cut their teeth on fanfic or haven’t been reading from a young age. The writing style is either a really profound Instagram metaphorical caption kinda overwrought and over flowery language, or it’s trying so hard to be edgy and sardonic and ends up being completely tell and almost zero show. This Is How You Lose The Time War is a PERFECT example of this - where the flowery and poetic language actually takes AWAY from a scene and distracts you from it rather than adding anything to it in the moment, and for those who do like poetic fiction this will be up their alley but if you don’t and you pick it up because of badly marketed hype when you normally wouldn’t, it’s gonna turn you off reading in general!

There’s nothing wrong with starter fiction to help get readers engaged and then find their way into actually good books, but my gripe is that it’s never ever marketed as that and as if it it’s just generically good fiction. Nothing Colleen Hoover has ever written is objectively good - the writing style is mediocre and she romanticises taboo topics which will seem spicy to the average population who doesn’t READ. And yet she takes up every bookshelf which I promise you will end up turning many readers who ARENT on booktok away from reading altogether.

YA is another genre that has declined a lot in recent years because it’s full of marketers trying to fit all the buzzword tropes into their books and getting young readers to buy it because it’s “enemies to lovers pirate cyberpunk found family” or whatever - and it feels more like focus group fiction rather than actual writing. I LOVE YA but nothing that’s been released post 2020 has had any depth, plot, character development or any style to it.

A great example is Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros - i tried reading 2 chapters as a sample and it was shocking to see how illogical, overdramatic, overedgy and exceptionally “this happened then this then this then that” it was. There was absolutely zero nuance and it felt so “I’m telling you all this but I’m not gonna prove any of it”. And yet it’s rated either 5 stars or 1 star. I’m sure it’s a great starter middle grade/teen book but it is definitely not deserving to be on the same pedestal as other YA books like Hunger Games or Six of Crows. I used to think that perhaps I’ve just outgrown YA but considering I can pick up YA from 2018 that I haven’t read before with no problems, it’s so specific to BOOKTOK YA.

It’s getting to the point that if I see a book that’s being overpromoted on tiktok, I’m more likely to believe the bad reviews because there hasn’t been a SINGLE book where I’ve disagreed with them, and then go find a different book in the same genre that hasn’t been on booktok - it’s getting hilarious actually that the books that are actually incredible get zero screen time and traction on booktok because they aren’t just cheap easy airport reads. Once again - nothing wrong with an easy airport CH book or YA book, but we aren’t going around parading a Lee Child book as peak literature no matter how enjoyable they are.

I don’t even have a conclusion to this entire rant - I’m sick of books like Babel getting steamrolled because it was “too sad or too hard” in favour of the latest SJM book, and getting even more sick of the decline of media literacy due to books getting easier and more spoonfeedy. When they aren’t? They mistake flowery metaphors for complexity and depth.

[vincentbriggs]

Good sir, I am hoping to pick your brain. I’m making an 18-century (“pirate”) shirt as a gift to my friend. He wants tie closures on the neck and cuffs instead of buttons. Might you have any insight or resources for this? I’ve seen the ties in at least one of the extant shirts I’ve viewed online. I’m still pretty new to the sewing gig and I’d like to minimize inventing metaphorical wheel as much as possible. Thanks in advance!

It's very unusual, but do know of one example! (Not that extant one though)

But first - Link to my most thorough shirt construction blog post. (It's a few years old and I've improved a few little things in my technique since then, and I mean to finish writing a new and better one before the year is over.)

Ok, ties on shirts! I'm assuming this is the extant one you're talking about? Tbh I'd discount this one entirely if you're looking for information on 18th century men's shirts because I don't think it is one.

Besides the attached ties, the sleeves are extremely weird. They're cut off and have no wristbands!! This would make it quite impossible to wear under a coat, the wristbands are an absolutely essential part of an 18th century shirt. I also don't see any reason to believe this is actually 18th century when it could just as easily be 19th century, and considering how short the slit is I think that more likely.

(Lots of auction sellers like to say "late 18th century" about things that are like... yeahh maaaaybe that's plausibly from a very fashion forward guy in the late 1790's but it's much more likely early 19th century. And with court dress they sometimes just straight up date it several decades too early. Look at lots of examples and always question everything, because museums don't always date things correctly either.)

I think I remember seeing someone mention once that it was a 19th century workman's garment of some sort, but I can't remember where, and all we've got to go on are a few pictures and a brief caption from a seller who doesn't know what they're talking about. It does look like it could have been worn over another layer though, and the fabric is very coarse. It could also have been altered at a later date for theatrical costume, which is something the Victorians did to A LOT of 18th century garments.

So just ignore that shirt!

The vast majority of 18th century mens shirts close with 2 or 3 buttons on the collar, but there is a style that uses ribbons. It appears to have been fairly common in the late 17th and early 18th century, and then slowly dwindles as the century goes on. I have a section for it on my shirts pinterest board with 64 examples. Ooh, wait, 65, just found a new one.

The collar is made with little to no overlap and one buttonhole on each end, and a ribbon is threaded through them.

Portrait of Carl Gustaf Tessin, 1728.

Sir Charles Howard, 1738.

I actually made one of these last year!

The collar doesn't sit as well with the ribbon as it does with 2 buttons, but once you put a stock over it it's fine.

Nearly every single depiction of an 18th century shirt I've ever seen (and I've spent a LOT of time looking) uses sleeve links on the wristbands. (Which I have a tutorial for! They're really easy to make!) I do sleeve links on most of my everyday shirts because I like them better than sewn on buttons. When the wristband is this narrow, sewn on buttons don't sit very nicely.

But! If your friend wants ties on the wrist in a historical way, I do know of one single example, and it's this guy!

Giovanni Maria delle Piane, Portrait of a nobleman. No date given, but if I had to guess I'd say 1680's or 90's. Very late 17th century looking fellow.

We can't see his collar closure, but I think it's very possible that he has a matching red ribbon holding that closed.

Personally I wouldn't want to try these, because they look like an absolute nightmare to tie by yourself one handed. But the good news is that you could make just regular wristband that take sleeve links and they'd work for this too, since both just have a buttonhole at each end! I aim for a finished wristband length that's 10-14mm longer than my wrist measurement, with the buttonhole being about 4 or 5mm in from the edge, which gives me enough ease to wear them comfortably with sleeve links, so if you do that then he'll be able to wear them both ways.

[depraveddame]

How did you learn to write so well???? Any pointers for the mortals? Or resources? Or a bit of your magic? Your work is immersive and exceptionally well-written.

First of all this is really so incredibly kind— thank you so much. It means a lot to me 😭💖

I’m not sure how to answer this, I’ve been thinking about it and I feel like I didn’t…learn to write like I do. I just kind of have always written this way— descriptive, indulgent, symbolic and raw. In school writing always came easily to me, but before last September, I hadn’t written fiction in nearly 17 years, and it had been 10 years since I’d written anything academic. It was a massive struggle to start writing again after so long, and honestly? The biggest thing that has helped my writing grow is doing extraordinary amounts of it.

I have written about 500k words since September 2023 and with every word, my writing improves and I lock in my style— I am not the same writer I was six months ago and I’m not the same writer I was a week ago. Practice, practice, practice. Write that stupid little idea in your head, keep your notes app or notebook handy and indulge those ideas that pop up no matter what else you’re working on.

Writing is such a deeply personalized process, as are writing styles— my resources are my background and years of studying the arts and literature, picking up symbolism and how it’s been used over the centuries as well as the way any language and any metaphor can be poetic with just a few tweaks. I’ve always been a descriptive person to a fault— I was always being told by my teachers and professors to cut out detail, and I refused. Now that I’m writing fic, I indulge my penchant for detail and lush imagery, just like I did when I was drawing and painting full time, and it’s helped me accept that my style is luxurious and what some could call flowery, and instead of avoiding that tendency like I have in the past, I just totally dive into it now and am unapologetic about the amount of metaphor and adjectives I use 😂

I would also say that reading huge amounts of fic across fandoms has helped my writing exponentially too— you learn by reading other writers!

I’m sorry if this is wildly unhelpful. It means the world that you enjoy my writing, thank you for reading and for reaching out ❤️‍🔥

[givemearmstopraywith]

Joan of Arc study

Last year, I led a small digitial “retreat/study” on Joan of Arc via my Kofi- while my Kofi is no longer running (difficult to keep on top of because of other work obligations), I thought that in honour of her feast day I would make it publicly available. All of the text and resources used are under the cut- you can do this at your own pace, with one topic per week, or any other way you like. It’s to generate personal reflection on gender and one’s relationship to God, and is designed to be completely non-denomination, meaning that while it does use Bible readings, even if you are not a Catholic or a Christian, it should be able to stimulate some thought and reflection without having a definite religious slant. 

The topics covered are:

Joan the Warrior 

Joan the Androgyne 

Joan the Prophet and Mystic 

Joan the Disciple 

Below the cut you’ll find all of the readings and bonus content for each topic, and at the end are “notes,” a short informal essay consolidating what I’m hoping to share through this study. But I highly encourage you to do your own reflection, be it through journalling, prayer, mediation, or whatever form of self-reflection suits you best, and try to decide what the readings- and Joan herself- says to you.

Ultimately, I hope what you’ll discover through this "retreat" is that our gender identity makes us warriors, prophets, mystics, and disciples- that existing between the binaries imposed on us by patriarchy allows us to draw closer to the strange and wonderful place where God exists. 

WEEK 1: Exploring God and Gender with Joan of Arc- Joan the Warrior (readings)

This study pre-supposes that you already have some background on Jehanne and her life- nothing too in-depth, and we'll get into some of the finer points of her life that aren't as popularly known throughout this study. If you'd like more information, I highly recommend Helen Castor's biography and Regine Pernoud's Joan of Arc By Herself and Her Witnesses. 

I've mentioned that this is a non-denominational study. What does this mean? Mainly it means that while scripture provides the backbone of a lot of our reading, I don't want us to treat scripture in a Christian context. Rather, I want to treat it primarily as a literary text, and rather than engaging with it as a "Bible study" or theological undertaking, I want to challenge us to read this without any preconceived notions of what it means in a religious context. Rather, read it the way you'd read a novel or short story. How does it make you feel? What themes, motifs, metaphors, allegories, or other literary techniques are employed? What is the text trying to say? 

Read: 

Judges 4-8: Deborah, Jael, and Gideon

Christine di Pizan's Joan of Arc

excerpts from Jehanne's trial: Joan's Tools

(If you want to read all of Jehanne's trial transcripts, you can do so here- I'll be providing more excerpts over the upcoming weeks, but we won't be reading it in full, so I highly encourage you to read the full transcript on your own if you'd like.)

Consider: 

What tools does God give to Deborah and Gideon? Are those tools always weapons? Do they always require public acknowledgement, like Deborah’s tent peg? What tools has God given you? What similarities do you see between the Bible study and Joan? How does Christine di Pizan portray Jehanne in her poem? Is there a similarity between di Pizan's portrayal and the portrayal of the Biblical judges? 

Extras:

have a listen of Veni Creator Spiritus- this Latin chant was said to have been sung before every battle by the French army when Jehanne arrived at Orléans on 29 April 1429, legend has it that a choir of priests went before her signing this hymn. 

shameless self-plug of my own but much beloved Joan of Arc Spotify playlist 

WEEK 2: Exploring God and Gender with Joan of Arc- Joan the Androgyne (readings)

Read:

Judith 8-9

Marina Warner's Joan of Arc: The Image of Female Heroism, Chapter 7: Ideal Androgyne

excerpt's from Jehanne's trial: Jehanne and her gender presentation

Consider:

Last week we considered the tools God gave figures like Jehanne, Gideon, and Deborah. How does Jehanne's gender function as a tool? How does Jehanne view her relationship to gender based on her testimony? How does the idea of her as an androgyne, as opposed to a warrior woman or girl, change your idea of her as a historic figure? How does Jehanne's gender presentation compare to that of Judith?

Extras:

If you haven't seen it already, Carl Dreyer's 1928 masterpiece The Passion of Joan of Arc is available to watch for free on Internet Archive. It is a fascinating, moving, and exceptional portrayal of Jehanne's trial, arguably the best, and it's lead actress Renee Falconetti beautifully captures the idea of Jehanne as the androgyne.

WEEK 2: Exploring God and Gender with Joan of Arc- Joan the Prophet and Mystic

Read:

the Book of Jonah

“Joan of Arc and Female Mysticism” by Anne Llewellyn Barstow

Joan of Arc and her voices

Consider:

Does Jehanne know she is a mystic, a saint, a prophet? What relationship is there between Jehanne's gender and her prophecy? Is Jehanne a true mystic? Why or why not?

WEEK 4: Joan the Disciple

Read:

Luke 8

2 Clement- all if you wish, or just Chapter 12

skim the complete transcript of Jehanne's trial, paying attention to the final day (starting at page 358)

Consider:

Pay special attention to Luke 8: 16-19. How does this apply to Jehanne? More specifically, how does this apply to how she presents her gender. Much criticism in her trial is centered on how she does or does not properly conform to gender. How do these verses, and those in 2 Clement, apply to Jehanne and her treatment by the church?

Bonus:

Jehanne's letters, which are a fascinating look at her voice

Mark Twain's Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc is free to read

Notes:

On April 30, 1429, Joan of Arc- who styled herself Jehanne la Pucelle, or Jehanne the maid- arrived at the French city of Orléans to free it from English control. Orléans had been under siege since October of the previous year: it's commander and French army were exhausted and contemplating surrender.

Enter Jehanne. The story is famous: aged sixteen, she heard the voices of saints and angels commanding her to free France from the English, lift the siege of Orléans, and crown the Dauphin. Remarkably, she succeeded, before being condemned to the stake for heresy by the Church. Her feast day in 30 May.

In our study about Jehanne, we've read portions of Judges. Judges cover a period in Israelite history prior to the establishment of the monarchy of which the famous Davidic monarchy was part. This is a period which roughly corresponds to the historic period 1400–1000 B.C., just after the settlement of Canaan after the Egyptian diaspora, when the Hebrew settlers were living among foreign, polytheistic tribes like the Philistines, who are a major antagonist throughout the narrative. Judges is considered one of the oldest books in the Hebrew bible, with the Song of Deborah- Judges 5- being one of the oldest portions. It documents a tumultuous and frequently violently history marked by agronomic destruction of a society attempting to rebuild after four centuries of indentured servitude to a foreign power, and a struggle to maintain the monotheistic practices which developed in the wake of their diaspora- the Levitical priesthood which we now know as Judaism.

There's a similarity between this era of Israelite history and that which would have been experienced by Jehanne at the time of her call. Jehanne was born in 1412 a working-class peasant girl from Domrémy in the Lorraine region of France. This location was almost directly on the border between French-held lands and those which had been invaded by the English during the course of the Hundred Years' War, which had already been going on since 1337. She was around thirteen years old when she first heard what she described as "voices," in 1425; it was the year that war is first documented to have begun directly affecting her home region, with raids by English or English-back French mercenaries taking place near Domrémy in 1425 and 1428. In once incident the village's cattle were stolen, and in another the town was set on fire and crops destroyed. It isn't difficult to see a similarity between what Jehanne may have felt about her circumstances and that of Gideon:

Gideon answered him, “But sir, if the Lord is with us, why then has all this happened to us? (Judges 6:13)

In the midst of this, Jehanne experienced her first vision- in her father's garden, a voice she identified as Saint Michael the Archangel (a high-ranking angel figure known as the protector of the Jewish nation and later of Christians).

By 1428, Jehanne had apparently begun to formulate what she was being asked to do by her voices, whom she had by then identified as Saint Catherine and Saint Margaret- two early Christian martyrs- in addition to Saint Michael. After being accused of breaking an engagement (a case dismissed by the ecclesiastical court at Tours, but which rather darkly foreshadows the way in which her later trial and execution would inherently punish a wayward "woman"), she became convinced that her voices were telling her to leave Domrémy to aid the Dauphin. It was a remarkable undertaking for a sixteen-year-old peasant girl, illiterate, who had never left her home village. By February of 1428, she had convinced a local nobleman to support her and conduct her to the Dauphin's seat at Chinon. It was at this time that she began to wear men's clothing- an outfit which was provided to her by the local townspeople, and rather famously consisted of a pair of breeches which tied to her jerkin, a costume which made her almost- but not entirely- invulnerable to rape. Like Deborah and Jael, she was endangering herself by entering a world that was dominated by men, and her choice of clothing is evidence of this.

And like the judges we have read about, Jehanne was called from her home village in a period of turmoil to perform what she saw as a sacred duty, something which God had commanded her to do. Like Deborah, she was something of a prophet: she knew that she would see the Dauphin crowned king of France:

And she said, “I will surely go with you; nevertheless, the road on which you are going will not lead to your glory, for the Lord will sell Sisera into the hand of a woman.” (Judges 4:9)

And, like Gideon, she was a working-class farmer called on to lead an army.

He responded, “But sir, how can I deliver Israel? My clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my family.” The Lord said to him, “But I will be with you, and you shall strike down the Midianites, every one of them.” (Judges 6:15-16)

I think these similarities are all the more important this week, as we face the destruction of reproductive rights under Roe vs. Wade and the ongoing victimization of victims of domestic violence. Too frequently Biblical womanhood is cited as an excuse to strip people who are not cishet men of their destiny- to relinquish them to a common denominator, a life of submission and servitude. But what Judges shows us is that God’s call does not discriminate between bodies or genders. A person’s place in the world is wherever God calls them to go. We are allowed to ask for God’s reassurance of his call, but we must remember that if God calls us, he trusts us. We must trust him, and trust ourselves as he justifies us. God’s purpose supersedes the binaries and restraints imposed on us by the world.

Too often we equate "warriorhood" with masculinity, dominance, and activeness. Among Christians the epitome of being a warrior is archetypically defined as avenging angels and violent crusaders, many of whom committed gross atrocities and whose actions characterize a far-right movement of alleged "God-fearing" men who believe in their divine right to power on account of their maleness. Gross and extreme conservatism characterizes much of the front-facing presence of Christianity, it is this fundamentalism which we now see strongly affects political process. But God does not pick warriors from the strongest of his believers. David was the youngest son of Jesse. Gideon too. Deborah and Jael were women. God's warriors are those who listen to him: their strength lies in their difference. Consider how you are a warrior- not how you can be one, but how you already are one. Your God-given difference is your destiny: what makes you strong and extraordinary. How does your difference make you a warrior?

Last summer, I took a course on understanding scripture through how it is depicted in art. One week was completely devoted to paintings of Judith and Deborah, and we were assigned to read portions of both Judges and Judith. Funnily enough, we all struggled to tell the difference between depictions of the two women. Unlike Judges, the book of Judith is considered deuterocanonical, and it is not included in the Protestant canon: this could be part of why paintings of Judith and Deborah are frequently confused. But you can always tell the difference between the two in a very simple way. If it’s a woman beheading a man, it’s Judith. If it’s a woman with a hammer, it’s Deborah.

Both depictions of these warrior-prophet-women are marked by the violence of the acts they carry out at God’s call. They are associated heavily with the weapons with which they carry those acts out. It’s a very different image of women than we often associate with Biblical womanhood. Biblical womanhood is frequently associated with attributes like mildness, compliance, domesticity, motherhood, and submission. Biblical and traditional womanhood have become synonymous and conservative. It is heavily binarized, and placed firmly below dominant patriarchal structures.

Yet this view of “Biblical womanhood” doesn’t really hold up to the women we have encountered in the Bible- and it doesn’t hold up with our understanding of Jehanne. A question I want us to ponder this week is what actually constitutes Biblical womanhood? It’s a question that’s going to follow us as we continue this month-long study. Jehanne was condemned to death on account of not being a “real” woman. She was fully equipped to carry out what God asked of her, but she was still condemned for not being the "right" kind of person for her gender presentation.

I would argue that part of her equipment was the fact that she was someone who existed between genders, neither male nor female. But Jehanne was also both male and female. We have words for this now- nonbinary, gender non-conforming, transgender, and many others- but I don't think they help us much when we try and understand the complexity of gender in a time when gender was binary. Yet Jehanne shows evidence that she understood her gender as being other. Her trial transcripts reveal that she attributed no real gender alignment to herself or her presentation: her clothes were chosen for practicality, and that was necessary to fulfill the destiny which she felt had been given her.

How does our gender and our gender presentation function as a tool for our god-given purpose? For many people gender presentation is a tool that helps them to feel more comfortable in their own bodies, to convey to the world who they are. It is a tool that can heal one's relationship to their gender. Our purpose, our fate for which we are given "tools" does not have to be as grand as saving France or the world: it can simply be something intended to save ourselves. Sometimes saving oneself is the greatest mission God gave us- something we are given through his deep love for us.

[melodrangea]

I'M BEGGING YOU PLS I NEED KID WITH A READER THAT'S LIKE THE TITULAR CHARACTER FROM KOMI CAN'T COMMUNICATE-- THEY COME OFF AS LIKE A KUUDERE, COOL AND COLLECTED-- BUT SECRETLY THEY'RE A DORK AND SOCIALLY ANXIOUS AND JUST HAVE A LOT OF POWER AND KNOW HOW TO USE IT!! Maybe they wear a cloak and mostly blacks and reds😈😈😈 And maybe instead of using a weapon, they have some unexplainable power source similar to witches that just makes them even /more/ mysterious and cool. Until they start talking to you about how the last of both the carolina parakeets and passenger pigeons died in the exact same cage 4 years apart💀 Maybe the reason they're so quiet is /because/ they're so awkward and weird🥺 They probably silently stare at him all wide eyed and freak him out until he realises that means they just think he's pretty and like looking at him🙏🙏🙏 Anyways sorry for rambling🥺🥺🥺

i have a bunch of asks i’ve still yet to answer (sorry my loves) but this sounded too intriguing and funny not to write right away

what i’m hearing is witch!reader that’s calm on the outside and quirky on the inside

and something about birds :)

so imma just roll with that real quick

———————————————————————————

Kid x Witch!Kuudere! Reader

-now this totally makes sense

-because let’s be honest Kid is basically the exact same way

-cool and collected on the outside, but a total symmetry dork on the inside with a love for architecture

-you first notice Kid during sparring practice at the dwma

-assuming this is post-kishin and witches are more accepted, now you’re in the elite class with Mkf and the others

-you were assigned to face him, Patty and Liz

-you were nervous facing not only three on one, but one of the dwma’s top students

-Kid on the other hand noticed you for your witchy traits

-how the cloak you huddled yourself in flowed like a shroud of feathers, how soft your hair looked and the glittering jewelry you adorned yourself with

-you looked a little out of place but so did he and Kid respected your lack of care, how aloof you seemed to be to the whole scenario

-the spar ended in a close match with Kid winning but that impressed him even more at how close you got

-Kid was used to wiping the floor with every student that crossed his path, he admired how well you held up

-he liked a challenge

-you two danced around each other for a long time, pretending to be calm and calculated until one day the two of you were hanging out, walking down the street towards a cafe you’d heard of

-when Kid spotted a very symmetrical looking pigeon…

-and the facade was all over for the two of you

-Kid immediately went into fanboy mode, praising the bird for its unique coloring and symmetrical feathers

-and you about passenger pigeons and the odd coincidences revolving around the end of the species

it was an interesting time at the cafe, managing to both surprise the other about their hidden hyper fixations

but it honestly just gave the two of you more to talk about

there was the obvious initial embarrassment about your cover being blown but Kid found your wide array of knowledge very attractive

especially since your witchy persona is bird based

and Kid’s hyper-fixation made sense as a grim reaper he had to keep order, and what’s more orderly than symmetry?

and now that the metaphorical veil had been lifted it gave you both the confidence to admit your feelings, knowing that you both finally understood each other

were you the hottest and oddest couple ever? probably.

but did either of you give a single shit? absolutely not

and now Kid can spoil you with shiny objects while you use your magic to make things symmetrical :)

———————————————————————————

man if i had a dollar for every time i said hyperfixation

but if wishes were wings my grammar skills would fly so high they’d burn in the sun

and that’s a wrap my lovelies <3

i hope i did your request justice anon!!

-melodrangea <3

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his girl - ch 11

Now we're getting into the fun part! �� The metaphorical shit is about to hit the fan as Frankie and our reader get ready for their one year anniversary on September 26, 2013. I had a lot of "fun" writing this chapter and I hope you enjoy it even though I'm now taking a seriously hard left turn with this series, away from the fluffy little bubble I've wrapped us in. The warnings will contain spoilers so I've put them in a separate post and will update them as I go: Warnings

Word count: 6.2 k

Chapter 12

Chapter 1, if you want to catch up from the beginning

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko  @javicstories

“Cariño! I’ve got to go now, come kiss me!” Frankie calls through the apartment as he pulls on his boots, hastily tying them up before he tugs on his jacket. “Carinooooooo!” he wails, “come kiss me goodbye, I can’t leave if you don’t kiss me!” 

You spit out the toothpaste and rush to rinse your mouth, before opening the bathroom door, looking over at your baby of a boyfriend who’s currently standing by the door, bag in hand, making puppy eyes at you. “Cariñoooooo!" he wails impatiently while you pad over to him on bare feet, shaking your head. 

“You’re such a baby, Francisco Morales,” you wrap your arms around his neck as he bends down and gives you a wet kiss on your lips before trailing more wet kisses down your throat. 

“I can’t leave if you don’t kiss me,” he gives you a fake pout as he stands up. “You’re sure you’re ok to pack everything up on your own? I’ll be back as soon as possible so we can just load into the truck and go.” 

“Yeah, it’s fine, I’ll do some laundry and pack the last of the food. Just ring me when you leave work and I’ll be ready to go when you’re back.” 

“Ok, hermosa, mi amor, my gorgeous cariño, happy anniversary, my love,” Frankie captures your chin between his thumb and fingers and you smile up at him as he gives you another long kiss. 

“Happy anniversary, Frankie, my love,” you mumble against his lips, giggling as he tries to push you up against the door, groping at your ass, “I thought you had to leave.” 

“I do, fuck, but I don’t want to,” Frankie sighs, and plants a final kiss on your mouth before he opens the door and heads out, “I’ll see you this afternoon, hermosa,” he smiles, “te amo.” 

“Love you too, Frankie.” 

You lock up behind him and continue to get ready. The plan is to head out of the city and up to Denny’s cabin as soon as Frankie’s back from work. You’re working from home today to save some time, you’ve set aside manuscripts to read and that’s best done from home anyway. 

Frankie had surprised you a couple of weeks ago by telling you he’d asked Denny if you two could borrow the cabin for your anniversary, have a little holiday together. Today was exactly one year since you met at The Outback Bar and it had been the best year of your life thanks to Frankie. A weekend escape, just the two of you at the cabin, sounded like the perfect way to celebrate. To make matters even better you’d closed on a house just a few days ago, all the paperwork signed, you didn’t even have the keys yet, but you’d still spent the past three days mentally decorating the whole place. Frankie had sent Lucía pictures of the house and her room and she’d been over the moon to see the pictures of the pool outside. Now you were planning on throwing your very first Thanksgiving dinner at your new house together with Frankie and Lucía. 

You allowed yourself to get lost in daydreams for a while as you finished your breakfast and cleared the kitchen, throwing a load of clothes in the washing machine. While it ran its cycle you sat down at your small home office and went over the manuscript. 

Frankie called you just after lunch with bad news. 

“I’m sorry, cariño, I think I’ll probably be later than I thought, things are fucking crazy today,” he sighed over the phone. “One of our choppers crashed, we can’t get hold of the pilot, I’m just fucking praying he’s ok, Denny’s on his way out there now.” You can hear him rub his hand over his face, rough against his scruffy beard, “And I’ve got to fly three doctors to different locations, apparently they’re swamped, all kinds of crazy shit happening, it’s like it’s a full moon night but it’s midday.” 

“It’s fine, Frankie, just fly safe, you’ll get here when you get here and if it’s too late we’ll drive up tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, but I wanted to be with you all weekend,” he huffs, “Fuck, I’ve got to go, Denny’s on the radio. Talk soon, cariño.” He hangs up before you have a chance to say goodbye. 

By the time seven pm rolls around you have everything packed up for the trip to the cabin, you’ve been checking your phone for Frankie’s phone call for the past hour. He hadn’t been exaggerating when he said things were crazy today, you’d gone down to the corner store for some snacks for the road and found it closed, shutters down even though it was only five pm, the streets empty. And on your way back to the apartment you’d seen a police car crash into a small car. You’d started running over to the crash to see if you could help but a police man had stumbled from the cruiser and yelled at you to get back inside, to stay away. Something in his voice had scared you and you’d turned back straight away, running back to your building and up the stairs. 

Once back in the apartment you’d locked the door and tried calling Frankie, but he didn’t pick up. That wasn’t unusual, he usually couldn’t answer when he was flying, if you really needed to get hold of him you’d call Denny and he’d patch you through on the radio. But you tried Denny too and there was no reply there either, not on his cell or the landline to the airfield. 

So now it’s seven pm and you’re getting antsy. There are an extraordinary amount of police sirens outside, the news are talking about riots in the streets downtown, but the footage makes it look more like a warzone and the local news cuts the broadcast when someone attacks the camera man. 

At nine you’re pacing the apartment, back and forth between the big window facing the street and the small window in the kitchen overlooking the parking lot. When your phone rings you jump, and relief floods your chest when you see that it’s Frankie. “Frankie, where are you? Did you see the news?” you ask when you pick up, but you’re interrupted by him straight away. 

“Cariño, where are you? Still at home?” He sounds stressed and he’s breathing hard. 

“Yeah, I’m at home, waiting for you, of course. What’s going on, are you running?” You press your phone to your ear, trying to hear what’s going on around him, you can hear people shouting in the background. 

“I was, I’m trying to get away from Washington Park, I…I got into some trouble,” he stutters, “some guy was beating up another guy and I pulled over to stop him, I had to pull him off the other guy but he was fucking crazy, like high on salts or something, never seen anything like it. He came after me and I had to…I’m sorry cariño, I had to…take him out.” 

You hear the shame in his voice, you’ve only talked a couple of times about the guy in the bar Frankie beat up because he thought he’d hit you. He knew his skill at violence scared you and he’d done his utmost to prove to you that he wasn’t a violent person. But now he’d had to take this guy out, in self defence, and he was trying to explain it to you. 

“Just get home, Frankie,” you say, “we can talk when you get here, just get home.” 

“I’m trying, hermosa, but the police turned up and…fuck…hang on.” 

You hear his heavy boots shuffling over broken glass and hard ground, he grunts as he seems to move through or over a structure, nearly dropping the phone. 

“Ok, I have to keep moving, hermosa,” he pants, “the police turned up and…they thought I’d killed the guy, the didn’t see him beating up the other guy an-” 

“You killed him!?” your eyes are wide, you’ve stopped dead in your tracks in front of the big window. 

“I don’t know, cariño, the police came, they pulled their guns on me, I had to run and-”

“Frankie, why the fuck did you run from the police? You’re gonna get into so much more trouble now!” 

“I couldn’t stay, something isn’t right, some weird shit is happening all over town.” 

“And fucking running from the police after beating someone to death is the way to make it less weird, Frankie?” you spit out, you’ve been worried about him for hours but now your nervous energy shifts into anger at his stupidity. “Just get the fuck home and we’ll deal with this mess in the morning, or just maybe just turn yourself in, it’s gonna look so bad with you running from the scene.” You sigh, pushing your fingers through your hair, “Frankie, why’d you have to be so reckless?”  

Frankie bristles, you can hear his anger, “You don’t understa-” he begins but suddenly your phone goes dead, cutting him off. You look down at the screen and curse, you have no reception, there are no bars, it looks like the service has overloaded or gone down.

“Fuck,” you say out loud, and turn it off, maybe a restart will help, but no luck. Your phone is still dead and when you try calling Frankie on your landline phone it goes straight to voicemail. You leave a message, telling him to just come home as soon as possible. 

After that there’s not much to do except wait, you resume your path between the kitchen window and the living room window, stopping every now and then to flick through the news, all hell seems to be breaking out across the state, even the country. You try calling Frankie a few more times but it still goes straight to voicemail. The knot in your stomach is growing, making you feel nauseous with nerves. 

You call Pope but there’s no reply so you call Will’s landline. Hannah picks up and she’s frantic with worry about Will, he’s not back from work and she can’t get hold of him either. Benny was meant to have dinner with them and he’s taken the car to try and go pick up Will at work but with the cell phone services down she can’t reach him either.  

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” she almost cries, “I saw people running down the street just now and I don’t know if I should leave or what?” 

“No, just stay put, Will or Benny will come back there so just lock up and wait,” you say, you can’t stop yourself from biting your nails, you feel panic rising in your throat.

You promise to keep in touch and update each other, when you hang up you feel sick to your stomach. You desperately want Frankie to come back, you need to see him and feel his arms around you, tell you it’ll be alright, but no matter how many times you call, you only get his voicemail. You ring a few extra times just to hear his voice repeat the same message. 

“Hi, this is Francisco Morales, I can’t pick up right now, please leave a message.” 

“Please, please, please, Frankie, come home, come home, baby,” you whisper into the phone as you listen to his voice again. 

Night has fallen outside and it’s even worse, around the city fires have broken out and from your apartment you can see a couple of them burn out of control. Just after midnight the news channel stops broadcasting, suddenly, in the middle of an update. You flick through the channels but there’s only static on all of them. 

You call Will’s place again but there’s no reply, you hope that means Benny has brought back Will to Hannah, and they can’t pick up right now, maybe they’re on their way here. 

Just as you’ve put the phone down it rings again and you snatch it up. 

“Frankie?” you almost cry down the receiver but instead you hear Pope’s worried voice. 

“Is Frankie there?” he asks, you can hear the stress in his voice. 

“No, he called at nine, he…he was in some trouble but I don’t know…he was on his way home, but he’s not here yet,” your words rush out, “Pope, what’s  happening? I can’t get hold of Will or Benny either and I’m freaking out!” 

“I don’t know, it’s a shit show, people are…listen, I’m not too far from you, I’ll try and make it over there. I’m on a military frequency so my phone’s still up, I’ll call you if anything. Just stay put inside, keep the door locked.”

“Yes, yeah, of course, I’m waiting for Frankie, I’m not going anywhere,” you say, double checking the lock and deadbolt on the front door. 

“Do you have a weapon, a gun, baseball bat, knife, anything?” he asks, you can hear him jogging, his shoes drumming along whatever hard surface he is on. 

“I don’t know, I don’t think we have a gun, we have a baseball bat, and the kitchen knives,” you frown, looking out the window again, “Pope, why do I need to arm myself, are people looting?” 

“Yeah, they’re looting and it’s getting violent, so stay inside, and don’t open to anyone except me or Frankie. And don’t talk to anyone but me or Frankie, ok?” 

“Ok, I’ll dig out the baseball bat straight away but…but just get here, please, Pope, I’m really scared.” You leave the window and go to the closet in the guest room where Frankie keeps his old bat. 

“I know, I know, I’ll get there as soon as I can.” 

“Hurry, please, and stay safe, Santi,” you say, you can feel tears gathering on your lashes as your voice starts to wobble. 

“I need you to be strong, ok,” Pope’s voice is firm, as if he’s giving a soldier orders, “I need you to handle yourself, if someone tries to come through that door, you need to defend yourself, do you understand? Even kill them if it comes to that, do not let anyone attack you.”

“Santi…” you stumble, “I can’t..”

“I know, but you have to. This is serious, Frankie’s not around so I need to make sure you’re safe, and for you to be safe, you need to be ruthless now, do you understand?” His voice has a sharp edge, he’s breathing hard, moving fast trying to get to you, and the reality of what he’s saying hits you. 

“I promise, Pope,” you whisper, “I’ll…I’ll try my best to defend myself, I’ll try.” 

“Good, I’m about an hour away on foot, but it’s slow going. Give me two to three hours and I should be there.” 

“Stay safe, Santi, please,” you beg, pressing the receiver of the phone to your ear, as if hearing the voice of your friend will keep him and you safe. 

“I’ll try my best, and stay strong for me, and for Frankie, ok?” 

“I will,” you promise. 

… 

When his phone dies, Frankie hears the click and then nothing. He had a feeling this would happen, it’s mayhem in the city and the system is bound to be overloaded, so the lack of reception is no surprise, but he still curses under his breath. 

He was moving down narrow back alleys, jogging fast, staying off the main streets, avoiding people, especially any police, as he tried to get away from Washington Park. When he’d put some distance between himself and the park, he’d stopped to call home. He’d crouched down just behind a dumpster, keeping out of sight, while he talked to her. Now he stands up carefully, looking up and down the alley and considers his next move. The keys to his truck are in his pocket, it’s still where he left it by the park, he could maybe try to get back to it but the police are sure to be there. 

But something, at the back of his head, tells him he needs to keep moving and get home as fast as possible. Things are not normal, the whole day has been a shit show, but now, now it’s getting out of control. The man he’d tried stopping beating up the other guy had been raging, he’d turned and attacked Frankie so fast he’d barely had time to react. Only his instincts from the army, slower now but still just under the surface, had saved him from getting bit, fucking bit! 

The guy had actually tried biting him when Frankie sidestepped, and tripped him up, making him fall to the ground. He’d been on his feet in a flash and Frankie knew the guy was high on something when he saw his eyes, so he’d sidestepped again and swung an elbow to the guy’s head, hitting him in the temple. It had been harder than he’d intended but the sudden attack had his adrenaline running high, and the man had dropped to the ground and remained motionless. 

As he started running, when the police pulled up, his only thought was to get away as fast as possible. But as he ran, as he put a couple of blocks between him and the park, he saw others starting to act strange. When a city bus crashed into a taxi he dodged into an alley, the passengers on the bus flailing about inside as if they were locked in battle with each other. Frankie’s gut was yelling at him that something was very wrong, this was not just a weird day, this was something else, but he couldn’t wrap his head around what was going on. So he’d stopped to call her, to hear her voice and make sure she was safe, and let her know he was trying to get home. 

The way the call ended, when the phone network died, left a knot in his stomach that had nothing to do with the unfolding mayhem in the city. This weekend was meant to be about them, he wanted everything to be perfect, and now the last words between them had been anger. The small box in his jacket pocket represented everything he wanted for their future, and more than anything he needed to get back to her, to explain what had happened and get them out of the city for their anniversary. Whatever the fuck was going with everyone else, he needed to be with her, at the cabin, and ask her to be his wife. Everything else was secondary. 

Frankie drew a deep breath and started moving back towards Washington Park. He needs his truck, it’s their best chance at getting out of the city. Hopefully the police had been called away on something else, letting paramedics deal with the guy he’d taken down, maybe he hadn’t actually killed him. 

He stays on side streets and alleys, keeping low, staying out of sight. When he sees the door to a gun shop wide open, he pauses, considering the risk. A gun would make him feel safer, but looting one now, is pretty shitty behaviour. The thought stays with him for only a second, before he cautiously moves into the shop. The back of the shop is dark but quiet, broken glass crunches under his boots as he moves towards one of the display cases. There’s rifles on the wall but they’re too hard to hide, instead he quickly finds a Glock among the wreckage, the familiar gun feels solid in his hand. 

There’s ammo behind the counter but when he steps around it, he sees the woman, splayed on the floor, face down. He stops in his tracks, staring down at her still form for a beat. She’s wearing a pink t-shirt and he can see the blood where it’s been ripped open over her shoulder. It doesn’t look like a significant amount of blood but he can’t see her face, can’t tell if she’s alive or not. 

There’s a box of ammo near him and he quickly loads the gun, sliding a full magazine into the Glock. He doesn’t know why, maybe the way the day has been, but he keeps his gun trained on the woman, safety off, while he carefully moves towards her. There’s more ammo behind her and he wants to pick it up, but he also doesn’t want to leave her injured or dead without checking on her. 

Gently he nudges the toe of his boot against her hand, shifting it slightly, and he hears a deep growl, inhuman. The sound makes him take a quick step back, more glass breaking under his feet with a loud crackle. The woman lifts her head and turns to look at him for a beat. All Frankie has time to think is that her eyes have the same rage as the man at the park, she scrambles to her feet and launches herself at him. He fires his gun on instinct, the bullet hitting her cheek, the close range making it explode out the back of her head. 

She drops instantly as Frankie holds the gun trained at her. It takes a split second for his training to kick in, but then he moves. Stepping over her, he grabs two more boxes of ammo, stuffing them in his pockets, before he quickly throws himself over the counter and heads out the back door he came through, checking the street before he leaves. Walking fast, but not running, he puts the safety back on the gun and shoves into the back of his trousers, out of sight under his jacket. His breathing is normal but he can feel adrenaline pumping through his system, muscle memory makes him move through the city as if it’s hostile enemy territory. 

What the fuck is going on? What was that? Bad batch of some drug on the streets? 

As he moves back towards the truck he checks his phone, there’s still no reception. There are more people on the streets now, more cars too, all heading for the freeway. He sees a family hastily throw bags into a car, a cat in a travel cage stuffed into the back. Other cars speed past, full of stuff, people are packing up and leaving. The sight makes him anxious, he needs to do the same, get back home, get to her, and get the fuck out. 

Screw the weekend, we need to get the fuck out of the city fast, whatever this is, it’s not gonna be over by Monday.

He finally spots his truck, parked where he left it, the man he’d knocked out nowhere in sight, and no police. Quickly scanning the area for signs of trouble, Frankie crosses the street and gets into the truck. He breathes a sigh of relief when he can lock the door and the engine rumbles to life. He can see traffic lining up on the other side of the park so he takes a side street, mapping the best route back home in his head as he tries to drive as fast as he can, people are running along the streets, cars speeding past and it gets worse the closer to downtown he gets. He tries to skirt around it but as he turns down a side street he finds it blocked by a truck that’s crashed into a building. 

“Fuck,” he breathes under his breath, there’s fire under the truck and he can see people on the other side. Quickly he reverses back onto the main street and turns left, heading a few more blocks down. The traffic’s getting heavy and it’s getting harder to avoid getting stuck, up ahead he sees cars grinding to a halt and in a last second decision he pulls a hard right and turns down a narrow alley, he knows it connects to another big road after a couple of blocks but it will get him closer to home at least, almost all the way there if it’s clear. He barrels through the alley, slowing down only to take the sharp turn onto the main road, and speeding up as he sees the way ahead of him clear. The harsh headlights flooding the cabin of his truck is the only warning he has when the bus slams into the passenger side of the truck. The screech of metal and tyres is the last thing Frankie hears as the world outside the shattered windscreen goes spinning and turns to black. 

…

Your body is telling you to sleep but you can’t, it’s almost three am and you’re on the couch, with a painful knot in your stomach. There’s sirens wailing outside, close by, and you’ve heard screams of terror and pain throughout the night. Frankie’s baseball bat is next to you on the couch, your hand shoots out to grab it whenever you hear a sound, your nerves on edge, the big kitchen knife on the coffee table. You’ve cried yourself dry with worry, Frankie’s not home, Pope hasn’t arrived either, you feel like you’re all alone in the world and every minute you’re fighting to keep the panic down. Pope’s words, keep strong for me and for Frankie, roll through your brain, it’s all you’ve got to keep you from falling over the edge. 

A loud crack rings out somewhere in your building and you shoot up to your feet, it sounded close and it sounded like a gunshot. Straining your ears you try to hear more, but the wailing sirens from outside make it hard to make out anything. Slowly moving closer to the front door, you grip the bat in your hand. You stop in the hall, holding your breath and listen intently in the silence. Suddenly you hear a shoe scuffle against the floor outside your door and you bite down hard on your lip, your heart is thumping so loudly it’s deafening. 

A soft tap on the door startles you enough to make you jump back into Frankie’s sneakers on the shoe rack. 

“It’s me, Pope, open the door,” Santi’s familiar voice filters low through the front door and you almost cry with relief, stumbling forward to unlock it. He comes through it as soon as it’s open enough to let him in and he immediately closes it behind him, locking and sliding the deadbolt in place. When he turns to you, you throw your arms around him, and you feel him grab hold of you, squeezing you tight as he pulls you into the living room. 

“Santi, I’m so scared,” you sob, fighting back tears, as he sets you down on the couch, “what’s happening?” 

“I don’t know yet, Frankie isn’t back?” he asks, looking around the living room. 

“N-No, I haven’t heard from him since the cell network went down,” tears well up in your eyes, “h-he said, he was coming back here. But that was six hours ago, Santi!” The tears spill over as fear overcomes you and he sits down next to you on the couch, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, gently shushing you. 

“Deep breaths, hermana, you need to focus,” he turns you around, putting both hands on your shoulders, squeezing them as his eyes lock onto yours. “Listen, I need you to stay with me now, ok?” 

You nod weakly as Pope wipes your cheek with the back of his hand, “We need to pack essentials and get out of here, there’s a couple of dirt bikes in the garage under your building, I’ve got the keys and-” 

“I’m not leaving without Frankie,” you say immediately, leaning back from Pope instinctively. “I have to stay here until he comes back.” 

“You can’t, it’s not safe, I have to keep you safe while Frankie’s not around,” Pope grabs your shoulders again, as if to press it into you but you baulk. 

“If I leave, with the phones down, he won’t find me. He said he was coming back here and I said I’d stay until he came back,” you pull away from Pope and stand up, moving to the window to look down on the street again. 

“Hermana, you haven’t seen the city, it’s chaos,” he’s stands up and comes after you, grabbing hold of your arm, “I don’t know what’s going on but people are unhinged, losing control and attacking each other,” his grip on your arm loosens a little but he’s turning you to look at him, “I don’t want to scare you more, but it’s bad out there, people are dying.” He falters, hesitating for a few seconds, “I’m sorry, this isn’t going away anytime soon, and Frankie might not make it back.” 

“Don’t say that. Don’t fucking say that!” You feel panic rising in your chest and you push him away.

“I saw a woman…she was…she killed a child, it’s that bad out there,” Santi grabs you again, a pained look on his face, pleading, “I’m sorry, Frankie is a very capable soldier, one of the best, but it took all I had to make it here.” 

You pull your arm from his hand, “He’s coming back here, I’m not leaving without him,” you spit out and step back into the living room, crossing your arms as you turn back to Pope, he’s looking at you from the window. 

“I can’t leave you here, Frankie’s my best friend, my brother, and you’re the love of his life, I’ve got to keep you safe. For him, hermana.” He’s pleading with you but you shake your head even as tears well up in your eyes again. 

“If you want to help Frankie, get to Lucía. Take one of the dirt bikes, get her and we’ll meet you at Denny’s cabin.” You’re staring at him, your jaw set, you know Pope can’t argue with that and he has no choice. As he drops his chin to his chest you know you’ve got your way. 

“Ok,” he sighs, “I’ll go and get Lucía, but you have to promise me that if Frankie’s not back by Sunday morning, you take the other bike and come up to the cabin too,” he’s walked over to you again, looking down at you with dark eyes, “if he’s not back by Sunday morning, he’s not coming back. Take the bike, get to the cabin.” 

“He’s coming back, Santi.” 

“I really want you to be right, hermana,” he sighs as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you to his chest. You slump against him, you can feel your body shaking with the onslaught of nerves and adrenaline. 

“He has to come back,” you whisper into his chest, “he has to, he has to, he has to,” you repeat as a mantra as Pope gently strokes your back. 

You don’t notice when Pope carefully lays you down in your bed, pulling the blanket over you. Your exhausted body and mind shuts down for a few hours and lets you sleep without dreams. When you wake with a start, daylight is starting to creep through your window, and for a second it feels like a normal morning, until you see Frankie’s side of the bed, empty. 

You push back the blanket and make your way out to the living room to find Santi on the couch, two guns and a rifle laid out in front of him. 

“Morning,” he says, looking up at you. “I hope you managed to sleep some.” 

You sit down next to him on the couch, watching his methodical movements with the weapons, “Did you sleep at all?” 

“No, I kept watch, but it’s fine,” he adds as he sees your concerned look, “I’m still running on adrenaline and I’m used to it. Pulled plenty of all nighters in the army.” 

“Did anything happen while I slept?” You move to the kitchen and open the fridge to pull out some breakfast, the inside of the fridge is dark. 

“The electricity and the military phone network cut out about an hour ago,” Pope nods at the fridge. “Eat whatever might go bad first.” He stands up and grabs a backpack, you recognise it as Frankie’s spare one. “I’ve packed enough to keep me going for a few days, and I’ve done the same for you and Frankie,” he points to a bigger backpack, Frankie’s hiking pack. “I’m gonna try to get to Lucía now, you and Frankie head to the cabin as soon as possible. Get out of the city, that’ll be Frankie’s plan too.”

He comes over to you where you’re standing by the kitchen counter, frozen in your movements. “Remember what I said last night, hermana, I’m sorry, but if he’s not back by Sunday morning…” he pauses and grabs hold of your hand, squeezing it tight, “if he’s not back, you have to leave by yourself and get to the cabin. Promise me,” his dark eyes are bearing into you as his fingers wrap around your own. 

“I promise, I’ll leave if he’s not back by Sunday morning,” you say, your voice barely over a whisper. 

“Ok,” he gives your hand another squeeze and goes back to Frankie’s backpack. “I’m leaving a gun with you, and some ammo, it’s in the pack,” he shows you the boxes in an outside pocket. “This is your gun,” he picks up one of the handguns on the coffee table, “it’s easy enough to handle, I’ll show you.”

“Where did you get them?” you ask, “did you just happen to have two guns and a rifle on you yesterday?” 

“No, I didn’t,” Santi looks at you, “I broke into a gunshop and took them.” He sees the way your eyes widen and holds up his hand, “Look out of the window, the world is falling apart, I don’t know what is happening, but looting three guns to protect myself and you, is the least of our worries right now.” He picks up the gun and motions you over and shows you how to hold it, “Grab it like this, both hands, keep it steady.” 

The gun is heavy and cold in your hands, “You really think the world is falling apart?” Your voice is quiet as you adjust your grip as Pope moves your fingers. 

“The first thing I heard yesterday was that something was going on in Indonesia, then Rotterdam. Here, put your thumb like this.” He moves your thumb to cross over your hand, “then there were news reports from all over the US. And if things are as bad there as they are here, then yeah, I think the world is falling apart.” 

He steps back and looks at your grip on the gun, “That’s it, hold it like that and squeeze the trigger when you’re ready.” 

You pull back on the trigger and the gun clicks. “So we get to the cabin and then what?” you ask, looking down the barrel of the gun, feeling the weight. 

“We hold down the fort, wait it out, until it’s under control again.” Pope gently takes the gun from your hands and shows you how to load it, making you go through the motions several times. When he decides you’ve got a hang of it, he takes the gun and gives it to you, “Safety on, keep it within easy reach. I should’ve gotten you a holster but stick it in the back of your pants for now, keep it on you at all times, ok?” 

“Ok,” you nod, doing as he says before looking up at him. “Do you think the others, Will and Benny, will come up to the cabin too?”

“If they can, yeah, it’s the most logical choice.” 

He turns and grabs the smaller backpack and his jacket, “I’m leaving, I’ll get to Lucía, get her and her mom, if I can, back to the cabin. Sunday morning, ok?” 

“Sunday morning I leave if he’s not back, yes, Santi.” You nod, your jaw tight. 

“Ok. And listen, when you do leave, with or without Frankie, don’t trust anyone. People are attacking without warning, like animals.” Pope’s eyes are on you, imploring you to understand, “Anyone moves towards you, shoot them, aim for the torso to bring them down, then head shot, to kill. I know it’s not going to be easy, but if you want to survive, you have to. Get to the cabin, I’ll be there.” He pulls you in for a big hug, squeezing you tight and you hold on to him for as long as you can before he pulls away. 

“Stay safe, Santi.” 

“You too, hermana.”  

You walk him to the front door and watch him as he listens through it for a couple a minute, the landing outside is silent. Carefully he opens the door, gun drawn, and peeks outside. Daylight is filtering through the windows, shining some light into the stairwell. With a final look at you he steps through the door and you close it behind him, locking it securely again. 

Walking back to the living room, you sit down on the couch. Twenty four hours until Sunday morning.

All you can do now is wait.

Chapter 12

[wishcamper]

Heavy Lies the Crown: Rhysand, greatness, and the pressures of power

Or: the librarian’s daughter, former playwright, licensed counselor mashup of my nightmares dreams because I am vast, I contain multitudes.

No content warnings and no real HOFAS spoilers, I don't think, other than that he's in it but I feel like you know that by now. Spoilers for Breaking Bad (lol).

---

In working on my current fic (on ao3 here!) I've been thinking a lot about Rhysand and how he really goes off the rails in ACOSF and HOFAS. It's easy to chalk it up to poor writing, but I like the challenge of trying to make it make sense. What are Rhys’ motivations, truly? What would explain the vast array of heinous shit he does the text tells us is justified?

Rhys is shown over and over to be quite Machiavellian ('ends justify the means' dude, who was maybe writing satire). It's easy to list the times he shows this. The 50 year Velaris hostage situation. The bargain UTM with Feyre. The Weaver's cottage. Stealing the Book from Tarquin. CLARE BEDDOR. Infiltrating people's minds. Torture. Assassination. Allying with Kier. Concealing his wife's medical information. Being an ass to people in general. According to Mr. Machiavelli, any action is warranted if it the goal it achieves is morally important enough.

It seems like Rhys can justify anything to himself if he believes it will serve the greatest good at the end of the day. He does so many things with the air of “it’s for your own good” or “you’ll understand why one day” but that day never.. comes? Not yet anyway, which begs the question: is he that unself-aware, or is there a longer game he’s playing that all of these minor skirmishes are leading up to? What if he knows what's coming? And what kind of cause or threat would feel so great he could justify everything he does up to this point?

Okay I'm gonna talk about Aristotelean literary structure, please don't leave me.

The idea of a tragic hero is a character whose downfall is inevitable but who fights against it anyway. Hamlet is a classic example of a tragic hero, Oedipus being the de facto first, Walter White from Breaking Bad a more modern version. We see Walt learn he’s going to die in the first episode, in the middle he does a bunch of stuff to prevent his physical death (cancer) and metaphorical death (failure/obscurity), and then both his body and reputation die in the last episode as a direct result of his attempts to avoid fate. It’s blissful Aristotelean symmetry. *chef’s kiss*

Every tragic hero has hamartia, more commonly known as a ‘fatal flaw’. In Hamlet, his fatal flaw is procrastination, and his delays create space for all kinds of the fuck shit he was trying to prevent. It’s important to note that hamartia is by design a neutral term - not so much a flaw, but a trait, motivation, or decision that sets off the chain of events the character is trying to avoid. Tragedies have occurred equally from too much love as too much hate, and doing nothing is just as much a decision as doing something. The word itself comes from the Greek for ‘to miss the mark’. To try and fail, the backbone of tragedy.

One of the most common hamartia is hubris, a modern synonym for arrogance but which more specifically means an outsized belief in one’s ability to affect and control the future. Well-known tragic heroes taken down by hubris include our boy Walter White, Tony Soprano, Viktor Frankenstein, Achilles, Jay Gatsby, Kendall from Succession. It exists in real life, too: Lance Armstrong is a perfect example of a modern tragic hero brought down by hubris. And what do all these men have in common? Power, via money, fame, strength, the state, intellect, violence etc.

I’ve been enjoying looking at Rhysand through this tragic hero lens because while it doesn’t really make him more sympathetic, it does make his actions easier to understand logically, which is its own kind of humanization. If Rhysand is aware of a prophesied or fated event sometime in the future and is pulling the cosmic strings now, it must be incredibly important, like annihilation-level important, which is so much pressure. 

So he grows to maturity with an understanding that he will one day have to face this intense evil that could completely destroy his world, and it plants in him a hubris. He believes that his immense power grants him a certain amount of influence automatically. And honestly, is he wrong?

And this is where it’s important to think about how power makes people weird. Power gives people a false sense of confidence in their actions and choices, because their status and privilege protect them from so many more consequences. In this way it’s easy to see how someone can get a big ego - no one is stopping me, so I must be doing well! Or: everything is going well for me, so I must be really killing it! I know I feel that way in the first tingles of hypomania, but hypomania is fundamentally a distortion of reality and I believe so is power.

Power not only gives people confidence but also access to make decisions for others. They begin to think they should share the success they’ve found by leading and guiding others to see how great it can be if you do what they say. Just look at one of those cringe 'billionaire morning routine' videos to see what I mean. It’s a very patronizing form of altruism, because the leader genuinely believes they have the people’s interest at heart. And I use the word patronizing intentionally - leaders have often referenced feeling paternal towards their people, Winston Churchill + FDR, 'God the Father'. Power and fatherhood have been linked for a long time. And direct from our girl Wikipedia, "paternalism is action that limits a person's or group's liberty or autonomy and is intended to promote their own good".

I was talking with a girlfriend of mine recently about how I think some men don’t have the experience of other people depending on them in a significant way until they get married and/or become fathers. Like, afab and femme people learn very early to be considerate of others, to think about how others feel, to act in ways that keep others happy, etc. This plants in us a sense of duty to perform in ways that please others, to smile, to create comfort and provide caretaking in every environment we enter. So by the time we get to marriage and motherhood, we already know how to put others’ needs before our own because we’ve been doing it from the jump.

For men, however, this can be a completely novel experience. And it seems like it's SO HEAVY FOR THEM. George ‘Father of his Country’ Washington just wanted to go back to Virginia the whole time he was President. So many men talk about the pressures of being a provider and their families depending on them in a way women don’t, and I think it’s because for the first time others truly depend on them and they don’t know how to handle it.

In response, they either shove down their emotions as patriarchy demands and have a midlife crisis, or they abdicate that responsibility and go completely absent physically and/or emotionally to continue living for themselves. (Obviously there are good men and dads out there, and bless you if you’re lucky enough to know, have, or be one.)

And this aspect of power feels relevant because from the text it seems like Rhysand is unraveling. Between Feyre, the baby, the Trove, Nesta and being threatened by her power, Koschei, Bryce, the whole High King shit - I think he’s starting to crack under the pressure. And honestly, I’m kind of surprised it didn’t happen before now.

According to Aristotle, the tragic hero must:

Be significant (virtuous/capable/powerful/important etc.)

Be flawed

Suffer a reversal of fortune.

Rhysie boy definitely ticks the first two. I wonder what it would look like to get to three? I don’t think Sarah has the balls, but it’s definitely enhanced my reading experience and given me a lot of interesting things to think about.

Okay that's all I've got. Love ya, see ya soon xx

[olderthannetfic]

Reading for Context

I don’t really feel like scrolling through community profiles has taught me anything. People tend to just post normal tumblr posts and not tirades about shipping. I was told to just scroll OTNF go understand, but OTNF’s feed is just screenshots from a K-drama and idiots pestering him about pronouns for some reason. Is there like a specific way to do it? So… i’ve actually never understood the social conventions of other people in any group i’ve been in. I haven’t really had in real life friends since middle school.

This is actually kind of an interesting question.

First, let me be plain, what you've been asking repeatedly over the last couple of weeks or however long it's been is this:

How does a neurodivergent person who fundamentally is not good at social nuance, reading comprehension, and picking up on context get better at those things?

I've known people whose parents hired coaches to work with them on a weekly basis for years. "How does socializing work?" is not a simple question.

Teaching reading comprehension is hard too.

I vaguely remember a lot of times in school where English teachers spent whole semesters trying to get us to understand not only what figurative language meant in context but how to detect that it was present in the first place. I still remember this one 9th grade classmate wailing "But why does it have to be a metaphor?"

What you're asking about is something most people work on for decades, yet you want randos to summarize it simply in a few sentences.

--

The first thing that jumps out at me here is the superficiality of how you're describing engaging.

When people say to lurk, they're talking about a deep engagement with a community. They're talking about reading closely, including comments, for a month, not scrolling back through a week and just skimming the top-level posts.

Did you open the replies on my tumblr posts where other people besides me are discussing things? Did you look at the reblogs with content, and not just the ones I reblogged back onto my own tumblr?

Beyond the exact number of days you should read or the exact procedure, people are talking about a very in-depth kind of engagement in general. The point is that it's difficult to just come into a new space and know how it works without studying it.

For example, I talk about oldschool fanfic stuff a lot. A logical default assumption is that I'm a woman. Are you not familiar enough with fanfic spaces to assume that, or are you coming from Spacebattles or something?

Why on earth would you default to 'him'?

I'm not insulted: it just shows a staggering lack of clue about the context you found me in.

I've linked you to my patreon where you can see my pro writing pseudonym, which is obviously female. My tumblr itself links to my pro writing and gives my actual name, which is also fairly obviously feminine. I've also recently talked about being pregnant. Yes, it was oblique and I only confirmed it in the replies, not a top-level post, but plenty of regulars noticed. (Yes, yes, biology is not gender, but still...)

There are plenty of clues I'm not a "him", but you missed them all. I don't care about pronouns, but I do care about people who don't bother to or aren't capable of reading closely.

Quite a few people have sent me asks asking what I'm watching. I have repeatedly said that it's DMBJ and described it as "the Chinese tomb raider franchise". Yet you assumed it was Korean for some reason. This suggests that you just scrolled through quickly and did not actually thoroughly read the text of the posts or the replies. It suggests that your eyes skipped over the boring-looking short text posts in between the picspams.

It suggests you didn't bother to google what I was watching when I did say the name because you don't give enough of a shit to bother. That doesn't suggest a very high level of interest in my blog or any reason I should cut you any slack or pay attention to what you think.

It also suggests that you didn't look back all that far. I've been posting a lot about DMBJ, but I only started downloading Ultimate Note on July 15th and Tomb of the Sea on August 1st.

--

If you want to understand a community, scrolling hurriedly through one month of content and not actually reading it closely is insufficient.

This is what people mean when they say you're not willing to put in the work and want other people to do it for you.

[leighlew3]

I've been thinking about this a bit lately, and there was a small misunderstanding when I dipped my toe (and then whole body 😂) into the SC / SG fandom, i.e. a few people unfortunately thinking I was trying to mislead or exploit fans in some way, because of others from this industry who used and lied to fans in the past re: a different show. And while that was unfair to paint me with the same brush without knowing me, I can understand where they could’ve had concerns because of wounds caused by others.

Hopefully people understand by now though that wasn’t the case. As I’ve said so many times before, if nobody around here ever consumes anything I write? Cool beans! But I’m both a professional in this industry and a lifelong fan girl and that’s not gonna change. And I’m going to talk about both my career and fandom stuff. 🤷‍♀️

Anyway, I do hope people know by now that I’m here for the right reasons, and always have been. And I always will be. But if I ever did anything that made it come across otherwise — I truly apologize. I mean it, seriously. Any misunderstandings that I might’ve inadvertently caused through making a dumb math joke or expressing that fans should always have hope and fight for what they believe in, etc — if it upset anybody in any way or wasn’t expressed properly by me at the time — I feel awful.

While I can’t do anything about a couple people who twisted my words or intentions or even flat out lied about stuff being said or done that never happened — I do want to own any part I had in it by not more quickly clarifying or shutting that stuff down. I really do feel bad about all that, because all I’ve ever wanted to do was show love and be understood and connect with people and fight for the ship and fandom, and I’ve done that online (and behind the scenes in ways that I can’t even talk about) for years now.

I adore y’all, and I will always be a Supercorp fan. I’ve always been (brutally) honest and an open book, but I’ve also just been passionate (and sometimes sadly misunderstood) by the occasional little pocket of people. And that sucks. But I don’t hold it against them, and I hope nobody holds that stuff against me.

I'm posting this now, because after losing my mom this year and with the holidays coming up, I've been reflecting a lot. And I realize that life is too short for grudges or misunderstandings that can be corrected or made amends for, so I hope people know that I love y’all and appreciate y’all and any past minor conflicts or accidental misunderstandings — even if it was just with a few people — really sucked, and I hope there can be mutual forgiveness.

Anyway, I don’t expect everybody to like me or agree with my perspectives, or even approve of how I go about expressing myself. But we can’t control anybody else in life. All we can do is control ourselves, self reflect, and work towards growth. Thus, if I ever did anything to make anybody — even just 2 or 3 or 10 people — feel any kind of negative way, that's a big oops on my end, and I'm sorry.

And if some of those people still feel like it was entirely justified to target me so intensely the way they did — hey, bygones and I forgive it — and I still want to offer nothing but love and hope that the future brings better things for us all. For real.

TLDR: The last 5-ish years on a personal level have been incredibly difficult, and the last 6+ months have been emotional hell, but the ship between Kara/Lena and the SC fandom as a whole has been there for me in the most incredible of ways (through humor and fan art and fanfiction and friendships and lions and tigers and bears). And I’ve tried to be there in return, as much as humanly possible, and as authentically as possible.

And that’s why the little percentage that didn't like or trust me — I hope we can metaphorically hug it out and move forward and I hope I’ve made some progress in your perception of me over time, but even if not — or hell, if it’s gotten worse for some reason, I’m going to continue to show love and support towards this ship / fandom and fight for our LGBTQ community. Because I truly care. Even if I’m human and make some mistakes along the way, past or future. Even if people misunderstand me sometimes.

All I can do is my best. And that’s all I’ve ever tried to do...

Love y’all. 💜

P.S. If you’d like to chat or seek to be unblocked or whatever, send me a message via a burner or on Instagram DM or somethin’ and we’ll chitty chat and hopefully hug it out. I’m down. Cheers. 🤙

[vestaclinicpod]

Audio Drama Sunday - 24th December ❄️✨

A very festive Audio Drama Sunday to you all! I think Christmas has come early this year because so many of my current fave shows gifted us new episodes this week! 

🤠 OUGH I’ve made it up to ep 9 in @caravanradio and this is where it starts absolutely punching me in the heart. I’m so excited to listen to ep 10 but then it’s over AGAIN. All I want for Christmas is S2 of Caravan to be perfectly honest. 

🧳 Travelling Light by @monstrousproductions (7) This episode made me feel homesick for a culture that doesn’t even exist. I found the philosophy discussed so interesting and keep mulling it over! I don't know what metaphorical shoreline I'd be considered part of!! 

👁️ I bloody loved Benevolent by @malevolentcast. They absolutely nailed the cheesy Christmas special vibe and I was so happy to hear the long-awaited return of arguably the best character in anything ever at the end there.  

🌒 @monkeymanproductions I loved the answers to the MTO Q&A! I just adore this show and it’s always so interesting to get the behind the scenes scoop!! I really do want that Cass-only episode though. Pretty please? 

🎙 Welcome To Night Vale (240) ahhh!!!! What does this mean?! If this is going to be an exploration of nature vs nurture I am so here for it. Let’s . . . maybe let’s not kill our doubles this time? 

🏛 @the-mistholme-museum RUINOUS. Oooh I love a twist on a fountain of youth story and this one was particularly gripping. There are so many new revelations so far this season and I’m thrilled to hear that we’re getting two more episodes! I don’t want it to end!

🎧 Yay more The First Episode Of with @starshipqstar. It was absolutely fascinating from a very indie creator POV to hear how people with talent and experience found approaching audio drama for the first time. But I also think it’s important to address the DEEP SADNESS that there will not be a Starship Q Star season 2!! What?!! Christmas is CANCELLED. 

🐬 The dolphin emoji I use to denote @patterspod has never been more apt as we met Big Wave Dave in the latest episode. If you like weird and you’re not listening to Finding Pattersby, I just don’t know what to tell you. It’s just something else. 

🌨️  @thewhitevault (4) oh MAN I love this show so much.  I refuse to believe that a certain character is really dead but … maybe they are, I just can’t accept it. It sounds as though something absolutely monumental is happening to the show’s main family and I need to know how the stories are going to entangle!!! 

❤️‍🔥 The Love Talker (5) Jeeeeesus this show almost makes me regret listening to it every episode. I love this set-up where we get a new character’s perspective each episode, every new piece of the puzzle is even more disturbing than the last. 

🏢 @somewhereohio (S2E3) oh no! It’s spreading!! It’s honestly a little funny to me to listen to the show as someone who has no context of what makes Ohio, Ohio. I’m sure I’m missing a lot of cultural context but also, after listening, I’m probably not going to visit . . .  also it’s great to hear Rae Lundberg popping up in new shows - they always do such a good job!

🧬 Regina Prime - What a fun departure from the world we think we know in this bonus Regina Prime episode! I feel like the next season is going to be even more expansive and I’m very excited for it!! It’s also made me realise that I no longer trust W Keith Tims in anything after listening to The Love Talker! 

I hope everyone’s having a wonderful festive season! I’m going to be doing the #12DaysofPodmas again where I post an official review of a show I love every day until Jan 5th as a little gift to the amazing creators who’ve made my year so much better! I’m sure they’d love it if other people did the same! ☃️

[bird-inacage]

This is my quickie review on one of last year’s highly anticipated BL dramas and pairings. A really solid and competently directed entry to 2022′s roster.

When it was first promoted, the show came across as a mystery thriller with possible supernatural/sci-fi influences as suggested by the title. But in fact this is a social commentary drama that scrutinises the education system and its hierarchy of power; the consequences of what this pressure does to both those enforcing it and the young people operating within it.

There is high tension from the get go, as several mysteries unravel over the course of the series. The pacing can be slow at times, but that is resourcefully spent on fleshing out a wide range of characters; exploring motivations, backstories, and their part to play in the wider story.

I saw a lot of speculation as to whether the climax was heading towards a unusual twist of sorts, but actually materialised into a tale much more ordinary. The use of 'the eclipse' is a metaphor rather that a situational event or happening as we may have been led to believe. As the story takes place within a school environment, it can fall within the conventions of that genre, but does it’s level best to provide refreshing new ground - creating higher stakes within a mundane setting.

There were some silly moments, one of which involved an accidental kiss in a shower stall that frankly denied all laws of physics, and an infamous ‘it was all a dream’ fake-out kiss (which was perfection had it been real), which I guarantee drew a universal ‘AWH WHAT?’ from viewers everywhere.

Characters: I give kudos whenever a drama deviates from the typical BL top/bottom tropes. Ayan is the confrontational rascal who is unafraid to display weakness, and possesses bags of emotional intelligence. He’s presented as a bad boy but is steadfastly righteous and incredibly supportive of others. What I really liked about Ayan is he can love Akk but still be critical and disapproving of his actions, encouraging him to change and do better. Too often do we see love as a justified means to gloss over wrongdoing or problematic behaviour. Akk is the studious, reserved but easily flustered and burdened prefect who disguises a host of inner turmoil. Both are incredibly likeable in their own right; Ayan with his smartass and cheeky demeanour, and Akk with his huge heart eyes and even larger dreams of bettering himself. Both are striving ‘to do the right thing’ but approach this in completely different ways. Unlike some BL pairings where the chemistry gets you hot and bothered, Akk and Ayan have a much more wholesome dynamic that feels like you're watching two people who are friends/confidantes first, lovers second. An example where emotional connection has higher importance over physical. It feels authentically real, and that’s no surprise because First and Khaotung just so happen to be long-term best friends. This is a slow burn, enemies to lovers romance that is especially entertaining during moments of push and pull.

Pairing Rating: [SENSITIVE + WHOLESOME] Expect an abundance of longing looks, playful sparring and mutually supportive, healthy relationship traits.

Acting Performance: The absolute highlight is First and Khaotung’s superb acting, in their first official stint as a couple and as main leads. I had already seen First’s work on ‘Not Me’ where his role was an instant personal favourite. This was my first time watching Khaotung and I am in awe. These two are incredibly talented at speaking volumes through looks alone - every glance and gaze is loaded with subtext or brimming with emotion. The amount of tension they can achieve through just staring is immense. They delivered some of the best crying scenes I’ve seen yet because they’re able to channel genuine feeling from their real life friendship. If you’ve seen their interviews, they’re known to often cry over how much they cherish each other. Clearly this is a winning formula. Another fun fact is that both First and Khaotung are tackling character types here they’ve never played before, which only emphasises their range.

Production is fairly understated compared to others I've seen. They don’t do anything particularly creative or showy in the way they film or edit, but I think the objective here is substance over style.

Camera Work: A lot of shots are framed to look like they’re from the perspective of a bystander or witness. As a viewer, you can easily picture yourself in the shoes of another student lurking from afar or around a corner, who happens to stumble upon the scenes in front of you. This really hits home that this is a place riddled with secrets.

Music: The main theme ‘Over the Moon’ is very memorable, performed by none other than Khaotung himself. A piano version of this is often used as a backing track which is beautiful.

>>>

FINAL THOUGHTS: There is a strong emphasis on story beats here, where narrative takes precedence over romance. Pacing means the tension can sometimes wane or prolong, which leads to a bit of an abrupt crescendo at the show’s conclusion. First and Khaotung really do provide buckets of added value to this drama and without them, this would likely be a much less interesting watch.

(Disclaimer: These are just my own opinions. It goes without saying that one still can enjoy a show for all its successes as well as recognising its shortcomings.)

[27emailsicantsend]

“I’m not sure I’m auditioning for the musical this year. You know… ‘once a skate rat, right?’”

So I’ve been rewatching the show to prep for s4 and I’ve been thinking a lot about how Ricky doesn’t skate anymore. I think Ricky transitioning into a theater kid is his way of showing he’s changed/chose gina.

A) Nini gets him a skateboard for Christmas. He tears up over this saying this is the first gift his mom ever got him. Nini has known him the longest, so it would make sense she would get him the gift she’s always known him for.

-when I was in high school I was obsessed with pandas. But as I got older I grew out of them. Those who don’t spend time around me or see that I’ve changed, still think I’m obsessed with them to this day. Years later. It’s not that I hate them by any means, I’ve just… outgrown them (sound familiar? Ricky’s ily speech *cough*)

B) Ricky makes the comment I titled this in when he says he’s thinking about not doing the show. Since Nini’s not in it and he’s reverting back to his old self, it makes sense for him to stay the same. Be a skate rat.

C) (and what I believe might be the biggest hint of all) I found it peculiar the dialogue around using Ricky’s skateboards to create the beast changing-machine. First, his skateboards aren’t at his house… they’re at reds. Wouldn’t he want to keep them closer? Second, he doesn’t even seem bothered when EJ asks red if he can use one (because red kind of covers that they’re his). Ricky turns around and I believe EJ is holding Nini’s skateboard to him, but Ricky must have added a checker pattern to the bottom. Ricky’s just like “yeah I can stay all night and help [throw away the skateboard lol]”

-smushed between this scene and the next with the boys is where Nini finds out about the chocolates. Kind of an interesting placement where Ricky’s feelings are starting to transition here and Nini is realizing there might be more going on

-the next scene Ricky is literally sitting on a CHANGING MECHANISM (please see the metaphor!!) that contains the skateboard. He’s using his past self to create his new self. This same scene is where they’re first talking about EJ’s feelings for Nini but then Carlos makes the co-choreographer comment and RICKY goes, “wait Gina?” Then we get the zoom in on Ricky’s face when Carlos is like “just because it didn’t work out with the first girl, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take the next that comes along”. Interesting for both EJ and Ricky this works with the same girls.

-not to mention this episode is literally called “the transformation”… also symbolic of Ricky.

D) since Nini has been out of the picture has Ricky mentioned skating once? Mentioned Nini? Nope. At least, he wasn’t the first who did. It was other people bringing her up to him. And only in the last episode of s3.

I miss skate rat ricky™️ sometimes too, but I also think his movement toward theater/gina has been very intentional on Tim’s part. Skating was a private thing, the old him. But theater is a community, “family” as he puts it. I could see him pulling a Troy and maybe finding someway to do both (going to college for theater and skateboarding to his classes? lol) but I don’t know that it will be addressed last season.

Maybe he’ll ride his board to Gina’s house.

(Also the gif came from google, so feel free to credit if you know who it belongs to!)

[coraniaid]

Most of the notes I made for myself while watching Passion were complaints or criticisms, but I do think it’s worth saying up front that I honestly love this episode.  For all its flaws I completely agree with the popular critical consensus on this one: I think it’s a genuinely great episode of television.  One of the best parts of the high school seasons and quite possibly the highest peak the show has managed to hit so far.

In a lot of ways it picks up where Innocence left off.  Both episodes lean heavily into the metaphorical reading of the newly soulless Angel as an older boyfriend who turned out to be a creep after Buffy slept with him (“Don’t tell me,” says Joyce early on.  “He's not the same guy you fell for.”).  Both episodes work very hard to show us that Angel is not redeemable – first with the Judge last season declaring him “clean” of humanity, now with Angel killing Jenny.  But Passion hits a little harder, I think, because there’s no counterpart to that rocket launcher scene.  The good guys don’t get to enjoy even a partial victory here.

Other thoughts:

I think this is a surprisingly good episode for Joyce, in a way we don’t typically really get until Season 3.  It hits the right balance between showing that Buffy and her mother struggle to communicate but that this doesn’t mean they don’t bother deeply care about each other.  Buffy’s concern for her mother is paramount throughout the first half of the episode (and Giles’ insistence that she can’t tell her mother about being a Slayer is more than slightly hypocritical, given that we’ve already been told that his parents always knew about him being a Watcher).  

Of course Joyce herself isn’t perfect – she doesn’t know the whole story, and yes Angel only tells her that he slept with Buffy because he knows Buffy well enough to anticipate Joyce’s reaction – but however bad The Talk goes it doesn’t feel like this really had as much of an impact as Angel would have been hoping for.  It doesn’t seem to have really damaged their relationship.  I believe Joyce when she says she loves Buffy “more than anything in the world” even if (she thinks) Buffy’s trying to shut her out.  And I think this particular conversation, and the way Buffy can only say “you’re not” when her mother suggests she’s “grossing her out” is the sort of thing Season 5 is calling back to when, three years from now, Buffy will tell Giles that “my mom is gone … and I loved her more than anything … and I don’t know if she knew.”

(I think the shot of Joyce hugging Willow when they get the call from Giles is a nice touch too.  That whole scene from Angel’s perspective is so good, isn’t it?  The whole framing device with his voiceover too.  It should probably be kind of cheesy, but it’s not.  Maybe it helps that I just think Angel is a really fun villain.)

Speaking of that scene: everything between Willow and Jenny is so sad knowing what’s coming up later.  I remember being slightly surprised, back in Season 1, that Willow didn’t seem to immediately warm to Jenny despite their mutual interest in computers (“how come she’s in the club?” she protested in Prophecy Girl).  But I think the show has done just enough by the halfway point of this episode to make it seem credible that of all the Scoobies Willow in particular would be hardest hit by her death.  (The juxtaposition of Willow being excited and eager to take over Jenny’s teaching responsibilities at the start of the episode and then how somber she looks when she is taking over for her at the end is particularly good.)

It rankles slightly, in the way I’ve complained about before, that the script still reduces Jenny to “Giles’ girlfriend” at times and that one of the reactions to her death – by somebody who knew Jenny! – is “poor Giles”.  Nobody even thinks to suggest that Angel might have killed Jenny for some reason other than hurting her boyfriend.  Equally Giles seems unnecessarily dismissive of Buffy’s concern about the fact that Angel has been sneaking into her room at night at the start of the episode.  But the scene with Jenny’s boyfriend attacking Angel in the factory (after the rather complacent advice of “you mustn’t let Angel get to you.  No matter how provocative his behavior may become”) and then Buffy coming to save him, giving up the chance to kill Angel herself to pull him out of the fire, is so good I’m almost persuaded to overlook it.

And the mere fact of Jenny Calendar’s death itself – despite the weird retcon about her past and the fact the show insists she betrayed the Scooby Gang while showing us she didn’t, despite the fact they bury her under a name she never used in the show, despite the fact that after this season ends Jenny’s name will only be spoken on screen twice, despite the fact it establishes the precedent that will later be used for any number of increasingly questionable ‘shocking’ deaths in the Buffyverse – despite everything, it’s still utterly heartbreaking.

Jenny isn’t the first recurring character the show’s killed off, but she’s the first recurring character of any significance (with apologies to Jesse and Principal Flutie).  Or, I suppose, technically she’s just the first recurring character of any significance who dies and doesn’t get better.  The first recurring character who won’t be coming back.  The first recurring character that Buffy and her friends show any sign of missing.  And the first recurring character that the audience will care about losing.

I just think this episode could have been even better if the writers themselves cared about Jenny Calendar at all.