#I'm not the most educated myself but I'm trying to be more open to learning and understanding

[willow-p012]

Why is Amane Momose one of the most misunderstood Milgram characters? Why, I'm glad you asked! In this 3 hour video essay I will

[bluedelliquanti]

Before I go on vacation, I present my list of my top books for 2024.

COMICS:

Roaming by Jillian Tamaki & Mariko Tamaki

Bunt! by Ngozi Ukazu & Mad Rupert

Ukazu and Rupert are a powerhouse team, and as an art school adjunct, this already funny GN is even funnier (albeit in a way that necessitates a skull emoji in the educator groupchat)

Tiffany’s Griffon by Magnolia Porter Siddell & Maddi Gonzalez

Phobos and Deimos by J Dalton

Delicious in Dungeon by Ryoko Kui

It's a tough task to reach a satisfying conclusion to a series that was as strong as Dungeon, but I think Kui accomplished it!

Fool Night by Kasumi Yasuda

King in Limbo by Ai Tanaka

Over the last year I've been drawn towards comic series that work with a retro, fixed-width inking style, and King especially informed some recent experiments of mine.

PROSE:

Twins by Bari Wood & Jack Geasland

When I learned Wood was responsible for the book that became Dead Ringers, I knew I had to try it. This is the one that wins my "Oh, shit! Wow!! Okay!!!" award for the year (distinctions previously awarded to Cyteen and Manhunt).

The Bezzle by Cory Doctorow

DS9: A Stitch in Time by Andrew J. Robinson

Those of you who read my journal comic from last August might recall that I met Robinson at a Trek convention! I'd learned from reading these books that Stitch was considered a white whale among collectors, and now I absolutely understand why. If you're a DS9 fan and you want to try any book from the original run of novels, try this one. By which I mean, try the far easier-to-find audiobook version.

Translation State by Ann Leckie

A Woman of the Iron People by Eleanor Arnason

Fellow SBCF participant Erin Roseberry had shared this title as an inspiration for their comic, The Maker of Grave-Goods, and I was especially interested in trying a book by a Twin Cities author. What a serendipitous find!

Arboreality by Rebecca Campbell

For the third year in a row, a book nominated for the Le Guin Prize makes the list.

Always Coming Home by Ursula K. Le Guin

This is another book I always told myself I'd try someday, and was it ever worth it! I spent some time talking about my experience with this story (and its accompanying materials that fill out the world) in my talk with Evan Dahm on his show.

See you in the new year! I've packed some thick books for a long flight, so I'm starting my 2025 reading pile right away!

Reruns of my previous two lists, 2023, and 2022, below the cut.

2023

COMICS:

Yokohama Kaidashi Kikou by Hitoshi Ashinano

Out of Style by Devi Putri Megwati

Skip and Loafer by Misaki Takamatsu

The Harrowing of Hell by Evan Dahm

The Infinity Particle by Wendy Xu

Esteban by Matthieu Bonhomme

I covered my ShortBox reccs back in October, but since then I also picked up Pearl Hunting by Hana Chatani when it came to itch.io and adored it.

PROSE: 

So yes, maybe I'm cheating by including Moby Dick since I'm not all the way finished, but Whale Weekly really did end up being a great tool for getting me to crack open my gorgeous Evan Dahm-illustrated copy I've had for a while.

My favorite book of the year is Roadside Picnic by Arkady & Boris Strugatsky. I genuinely did read it the first week of January, but after having it recommended to me for years, I'm thrilled it didn't disappoint. Maybe I am someone who likes Russian novels after all???

Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto

Such Nice People by Sandra Scoppettone

Cyteen by C.J. Cherryh (I jokingly placed these three in the "READ 👏 FEMALE 👏 AUTHORS 👏" category because they don't have anything in common other than describing some of the most upsetting/bizarre scenarios I've read this year. Cyteen especially! Wowee!!!)

Brother Alive by Zain Khalid

Glory by Vladimir Nabokov

A Different Trek by David K. Seitz, which I mentioned as my vacation book for the Star Trek convention, but it's given me some great suggestions for more books, both fiction and otherwise. Also, I read... 11 more DS9 books this year. 

2022

COMICS:

Fullmetal Alchemist by Hiromu Arakawa

Vattu by Evan Dahm

The Well by Choo and Jake Wyatt

Wash Day Diaries by Robyn Smith and Jamila Rowser

Some ShortBox Comics Fair entries that are graphic novella length and are really good include Food School by Jade Armstrong and The God of Arepo by Reimena Yee et al.

PROSE:

Detransition, Baby by Torrey Peters

The Murders of Molly Southbourne by Tade Thompson

How to Blow Up a Pipeline by Andreas Malm

Manhunt by Gretchen Felker-Martin

Dead Collections by Isaac Fellman

Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov

A Psalm for the Wild-Built by Becky Chambers

The Past is Red by Catherynne M. Valente

edit: oh my god I can't believe I forgot Perfume by Patrick Süskind

Honorable mentions from the pile of DS9 novelizations include Revenant by Alex White (for successfully pulling off a Sara Paretsky-style mystery in space) and Dominion War: Call to Arms by Diane Carey (for absolutely unhinged adjective choices).

[ashleyfableblack]

"Okay… what about this one?" Queen Twilight tapped a hoof on the page. With a soft glow of her horn she drew out the complex symbol in the air as she sounded it out. "Vah… Lahk. Varahk? Varrac!"

Chrysalis smiled. "Perhaps…" She sleepily craned her neck to study her most recent clutch of eggs. A sticky green resin held the precious charges in place, dangling from a nearby rocky overhang. As the wind funneled through the natural arch, they gently swung, rocked as a baby in a crib.

With a puff of her cheeks she blew a gust of glittering pinkish light in their direction. The love energy swirled around the eggs like an octopus ink, clouding the air in a warm soupy fog before it was absorbed into the tiny grey orbs. The as-yet-unborn gobbling up the nourishment from their mother. Chrysalis gave a sleepy yawn and began to slowly drift to laying on her side,. She wondered if they, too would have violet eyes like their little lavender pony other-mother.

"Chryssi?" Twilight gave her wife a gentle prodding with her wingtip. "Honeybug?"

"MRZussaffm…" Chrysalis's eyes struggled open.

Twilight gave an pleading grin at the pitifully adorable sight of the little larvae nuzzled around her bughorse bride as they tucked into the translucent tresses of her cobweb-mane. "Chryssi…?"

Chrysalis chittered to one of the larvae and gave her an affectionate nip, removing a flake of molting chitin. "I'm sorry, beloved. I'm just-" she yawned again . "You know your pony naming conventions are so unnecessary to our changelings. They're hatched knowing their designations through the hive-mind."

Twilight pouted with a pleading smile as she leafed through the pages of the incredibly ancient book. "I know it's a point of cultural confusion between our races, beetlebum. That's why I'm trying to incorporate more of your culture and try some names more familiar to your people and your people's history- while at the same time educating myself on the Ancient Equish language and history." She held the book aloft in her magic with a prideful flourish, still carefully keeping her place in its pages. "THUS, we are using one of your old journals from the pre-Sucrosian Period!"

Chrysalis sighed and gave a playful roll of her eyes in surrender. She had to chuckle. When Twilight was like this, she truly couldn't deny her little wife anything. She watched with interest as Twilight opened her old journal. Two of their larvae quickly skittered from the navy waves of her wife's mane to climb on the millenia-old manuscript. Excited to help their ponymother, they chittered happily, holding the page in place with their forelimbs.

"So…. Varrac?" Twilight asked with a bright, curious smile.

"Well, she was good with snakes."

Twilight looked from the ancient book to one of the tiny changeling larvae cuddled into her crest of alicorn chest-fluff. "Are you a 'Varrac'? Are you going to be good with snakes?"

The tiny face lit up like a Hearthswarming bonfire at her ponymother's excited smile. She hissed out her tiny forked tongue and wiggled her little caterpillar-like rump of a tail segment. Twilight fawned with motherly pride and nosed at the tiny changeling babe. "I'll bet you will be. Of course you will. You look just like a Varrac."

Chrysalis adored moments like these, lazy afternoons together with her wife, watching her excitement and pride as she learned new things. Pouring over old volumes of any sort, Twilight came to life in a whole other way. Knowledge was her passion.

"Let's see here… What about… This one, V….Vaaa….Varghan?"

Chrysalis peered over the tome. "Vabam. As I recall she …was good with secrets…. good at telling them anyways."

Twilight crinkled her nose at that thought. Looking to one of the larvae she shook her head. "That doesn't sound like you, does it?" The tiny changeling babe tilted her head. returning her ponymother's smile and shake of the head. "No. You're not a Vabam. That's an honest little face if I've ever seen one. Hmmmm…."

She continued pouring over the swirling, magical symbols. With Chrysalis tutelage she was learning the art of reading them but still, the practice was FAR more complicated than any language she'd ever encountered. Deciphering the symbols was as much mental wrestling as it was arcane finesse, even compared to the darkest and most ancient of pony magics. "Okay, what about… Sssssurgat? No. I remember you said something once about that one. She liked to pick locks or…. Oo! Suluth! What about that one, Chryssi?"

After a few moments of silence Twilight looked up from the page. "Chrysalis?"

She chuckled. Chrysalis had dozed off. Their tiny charges, nestled secure in the tucked chitinous hooves of their armored queen-mother, mirrored her gentle snoring.

"Oh well." Twilight sighed. With a curling of the enchanted waves of her mane she drew the larvae gathered around her into her crest of chest floof. "I guess that can be enough for today."

The alicorn queen softly shut the tome. With a mother's love, she gently carried her little buggy babes with her as she sidled over to the slumbering bughorse. After a few moments of ooching she eventually found her way into the creche of her wife's limbs and In the enchanted air of sweet summer breeze the royal family drifted off together.

[doumadono]

hey I hate to bother you but I have an emergency request. Could you write a Bakugou x Reader short where he talks the reader through some big decisions regarding the reader’s possible career path where they’re having to chose between going off and having a 9-5 job or going to continue their family farm? I’m about to graduate in the next year and my parents have been shaming me for wanting to help restart our family farm while I’m off in college.

( we had to sell most of our animals after bad droughts five years back to back, so it’s been incredibly bare as of recent and I’m going to college for Agriculture anyways, so in my mind everything makes sense).

I don’t necessarily want a big fancy job, and honestly nothing makes me happier than working animals and it’s just been hard on me to try and please my parents while also still trying to go out and do what I want.

Harvest of choices - Bakugo x Reader

A/N: please stay true to your goals, and trust that with your dedication and education, you can make a significant impact!

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST - PART 2

The city skyline stretched out before you, a dazzling array of lights and towering buildings that promised endless possibilities. The air was crisp, a stark contrast to the earthy, familiar scent of the farm you had grown up on.

You stood on the balcony of your temporary apartment located in Musutafu, clutching the job offer letter in your hands. This could be your future - a stable 9-to-5 job in a reputable company, the kind of career you had always dreamed of. But the thought of leaving the farm, your family, and everything you had known was a heavy weight on your shoulders.

Your phone buzzed, breaking your contemplation.

The screen lit up with a message from Katsuki Bakugo: "I'm outside. Let me in."

You sighed. Bakugo was never one to mince words, and you knew he would force you to confront the decision you had been avoiding.

Opening the door, you were greeted by his intense, crimson gaze, eyes blazing with the determination you had come to rely on. “Took you long enough,” he grumbled, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “What’s going on with you? You've been super off for a few past days, nerd.”

You held up the letter, the official seal of the company catching the light. “I got the job offer. They want me to start next month.”

Bakugo’s eyes flicked to the letter, then back to you. “And you’re freaking out because…?”

“It’s not that simple, Katsuki!” You grunted, your voice trembling slightly. “Taking this job means leaving the farm, leaving my family and everything I am familiar with behind... They need me there, and I don’t know if I can just abandon them.”

He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall with a stern expression after he entered your apartment. “So, you’re stuck between the fancy city job and staying on the farm. Let’s break it down.”

He motioned for you to sit on the couch, and you obliged, grateful for his no-nonsense approach.

Bakugou took a seat next to you. “First off, this city job. What’s so great about it?”

You took a deep breath. “It’s a stable career, good pay, and I’d get to use my degree. It’s something new, a chance to grow and prove myself in a different environment.”

Bakugo nodded. “Sounds solid. Now, what about the farm? What’s it mean to you?”

“It’s home,” you replied softly. “It’s where I grew up, where I learned the value of hard work and family. It’s a part of me, and I don’t want to let my family down. They’ve sacrificed so much to keep this place running.”

Bakugo’s expression softened slightly, though his gaze remained intense as he ran his calloused hand through his messy hair. “Alright, so you’ve got strong ties to the farm. But what’s really stopping you from making a decision?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I’m afraid of making the wrong choice. If I leave, what if the farm fails? And if I stay, what if I’m giving up a chance to do something more with my life?”

Bakugo placed a hand on your shoulder, gently rubbing you there with his thumb. “Listen, you’re not gonna know for sure if you’re making the right choice until you make it. That’s just how life is. But here’s the thing: you’re strong, and you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You’re not the type to let things fall apart, no matter which path you choose.”

His words, though blunt, held a truth that resonated with you.

“But what if I fail?” You whined, shaking your head.

“You won’t,” he said confidently. “And even if things get tough, you’ll figure it out. You’ve got people who care about you, who will support you no matter what. And if anyone gives you trouble, I’ll blast ‘em to pieces.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the tension in your chest easing just a bit. “Thanks, Kats. That actually helps.”

He smirked, his usual cocky demeanor shining through. “Damn right it does. Now, let’s talk strategy. If you take the city job, how can you make sure the farm’s in good hands?”

“Well, I could hire someone to help out, maybe even a manager. I could also come back on weekends to check on things and help out where I can.”

“Sounds like a plan. And if you stay on the farm, what’s your strategy for making it more successful?”

“I could look into new farming techniques, maybe diversify our crops or start a small agritourism business. There are a lot of possibilities if I really put my mind to it.”

Bakugo nodded approvingly. “There you go. Either way, you’ve got options and a plan. You’re not going into this blind.”

You felt a surge of determination, the fog of uncertainty beginning to clear. “You’re right. I just need to commit and give it my all, no matter what I choose.”

“Exactly,” Bakugo agreed, his voice steady and reassuring. “And remember, you’re not alone in this. I’ve got your back, and so does everyone else who cares about ya. So stop doubting yourself and make the damn decision.”

With those words, you felt a renewed sense of confidence. “Thanks,” you chuckled softly, leaning forward and giving him a hug. “I needed that. Thank you for always having my back."

He hugged you back, his grip strong. “Whether it’s the farm or the city, you’re gonna kick ass. I am sure about that.”

[mysteria157]

hello hello mystie 🩷 bon has decided to visit you once again.

i am recently going through quite some turbulence with my writing. i have been working on a aot reiner piece for quite some time but it's been feeling rather... unfulfilling? i guess i just want to open up a bit.

as a black woman, i've seen a number of posts on here of other woc having takes about how we should 'embrace our blackness' and write our fics in a way that reflects that. i always understood that this is a valid opinion, as we are often pushed by society to 'calm' ourselves down and water down our personalities and our way of speaking (often not to fall subject to a number of disheartening stereotypes.)

but i've come to a more different, personal conclusion over the past few months. i am a black south african girl who grew up watching british cartoons in order to learn english. my mother took me to a catholic school where english was the language of instruction and we had a similar education system as most british schools (colonisation has a role in this system but that's a discussion for another day.)

i've always been called 'whitewashed' as i am fluent in the language. there's still heavy racial tension where i'm from, so ever since i was little i was compared to speaking as a white person. a 'coconut' if we want to go that far, lol.

besides this, we've become more westernised and my peers around me began to see the struggle of african americans as our own (since we're all experiencing the same biases and discrimination as poc.) now for some reason, seeing the takes of other woc made me feel as if the way i write and speak was incorrect. i felt like a phony, like someone who was dodging away from racism by writing like a 'white person' to stay unattacked.

to cut this short (as this has already been quite long), your writing put things into perspective for me. it might not be 'that deep' but seeing another black woman write and speak similar to myself has healed a small part of me. not only is your writing excellent, but it makes me feel as if that i don't have to pretend to be the stereotypical black writer all the time.

that my way of writing does not make me any less 'black'. i now know exactly how i want to create stories and write them down, as i always could've done.

thank you for being the talented individual that you are. love you lots.

-Bonnie 🩷

Hello my beautiful, Bonnie 💕

I apologize for the delay, I’ve been traveling for work so my activity on Tumblr has been low recently.

It’s a weird sensation of fate to read your post, because I resonate with your thoughts deeply. Growing up as a military child, I moved frequently, so I never really had a “home” like others. The friends that I had were all military children too and made up a melting pot of race, diversity, and background. I did not have a primarily black friend group and because of this, others often made fun of me for not being “black” enough. The way I spoke, wrote, dressed, and my mannerisms were all representative of a “whitewashed” version of a black woman. The concept of whitewashed is a topic for another day 😒

I’ve dealt with being called an “inside out Oreo”and constantly heard the annoying micro-aggression of “talking really well for someone like myself.” And for years it bothered me more that I wanted to feel and act like others, instead of embracing myself. Thankfully, I got over that.

Joining Tumblr and finding a community of black writers has been a great experience, and I definitely agree that we should ‘embrace our blackness’, but embrace it in a way that represents YOU. Not everyone else.

For myself, I embrace with what I write about, not necessarily how I write. Because I write how I think and talk, but I try to share plot and experiences that normally resonate with who I am as a black woman. Cookouts, extended family mannerisms and traditions, how I do my hair and take care of my skin, etc.

You are not a phony and you are not ‘whitewashed’. You’re Bonnie, and Bonnie writes how Bonnie speaks, acts, and feels. Period.

In my opinion, trying to write a certain way to appeal to someone else only takes away from your own authenticity. This isn’t to invalidate someone else’s experience, but you shouldn’t have to pretend to embrace your ‘blackness’. Being able to overcome this feeling is such a strength that you should continue to hold close 💕

Girl, look at me rambling LMFAO. THE POINT IS, I’m so happy that I was able to help you embrace more of who you are. I’m happy that you enjoy my words. I’m happy that you have the strength to create how you want. And I’m just…really happy for meeting you 🥹

Create your stories however you want. As long as Bonnie is happy and Bonnie is enjoying it and Bonnie is not intentionally hurting others, that’s all that should matter.

Love you lots as well. Thank you for being the beautiful mootie that you are 💕😘

[kine11]

what do you think is your biggest green flag?

Fuck it, I self loathe enough that I'm taking this ask as a chance to hype myself up. I'm both completely immature and silly while also being incredibly mature and serious depending on which side of me is required. I'm good with money and live to my means while still being able to treat myself to 'luxury/unnecessary' purchases. I'm self sufficient and don't require anyone to do basic things around the home. I enjoy cooking and get dopamine from positive reactions to it but I'm not a food snob in the slightest - fine dining isn't my thing. I actively enjoy keeping a neat and tidy home and love nothing more than to do a deep clean on a Saturday morning to a sound track of my choice to then spend the rest of the weekend (and by weekend I mean 10 minutes when I'm also a dad) in a nice space that allows my mind the breathe. I consider myself emotionally intelligent even with AuDHD I'm always considering how my words and actions may impact others although I sometimes get it wrong unintentionally I'm open to communicate and learn. I'm a creative which comes with a keen eye for detail so I'm always finding and pointing out things that others might miss yet I still have a thirst for useless knowledge. I will always try to learn and remember at least one thing/fact about a new place I visit for example and will often come out with useless knowledge about things I didn't realise I knew, I get a kick out of impressing people with knowledge and teaching other even though I was completely average during education because my learning style wasn't catered for. I'm quick witted and often hear people say 'how did you think that up so quickly?' whenever I make an observation joke or reply to something someone has said. Most importantly - I'm a good parent. It's a cliche but I've never felt love or fear like it in my life until now and that just emphasises to me how much I truly care about this tiny human. On the whole I believe I'm a nice, respectful and helpful person who sometimes gets a little bit overstimulated, annoyed or upset at people I feel do not give back that energy... and thats okay.

[bibbykins]

Moonlight Reign Ch.1

A/N: Instead of forcing myself to focus on one series at a time, I'm planning to write what sparks joy to write in the moment and post it as I go! Hopefully this will clear some wips and help me feel less disorganized lmao! Not to say I'm not working on THB, I def am I just want to have something to post as I work on THB and the bigger projects like the LWAB fics among other things! So (hopefully) I'll keep these chapters limited to 5-7k, but we'll see lol pls enjoy and send me asks I thrive on them and so does my motivation!

And a huge thank you to my wonderful B @rapline-heaux for beta-reading ily!!

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yandere! Mafia! BTS x Reader

Words: 5.7k

Warnings: crime, sensory flashbacks, trauma, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior not rlly in this part but soon, pining, violence, past abuse, past neglect, academic neglect, stitches, drunk Jungkook, tackling, pinning someone down, mention of open relationship, poly is the norm is this au

“It’s time to go now.” 

1, 2, 3, 4

“Five years after the fall of the underground power family, Moon Corporation, people still suspect an even more powerful company has taken their place since…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“It’s… so red…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“The exposure beheld more answers than questions, but on the five-year anniversary of the suicidal explosion that killed the head, Moon Byungyeol and his daughter, the elusive green-haired girl who was 18 at the time, colleagues mourn in secret and establishments fear an anniversary heist or something worst than last year as the date rapidly approaches…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“Locals have several theories on the big conglomerate that now controls Seoul’s business, underground and above, with the mafia organizations and gangs running rampant, people fear the government is under their thumb as well…”

1, 2- SHUT UP

You inhaled deeply as if just surfacing from the drowning body of water residing in your brain. Your fingers stilled from the tapping, a  desperate attempt to make you surface, a sorry technique your brief stint in therapy drilled into you. Maybe having nothing led to illogical personal connections with a number. Of all your training as an heir, it was the mundane basic curriculum lessons that fascinated you the most. You were never good at math, but you loved to be perplexed by the numbers. It was a humbling experience, and in your fruitless calculations, four was always the easiest to wrap your head around. Of course, you didn’t know how humbled you’d be until you were a 20 year old trying to figure out how to do middle school math. Your education left much to be desired growing up, but you still enjoyed learning. 

You used to be convinced four was too perfect of a number for such an ugly world, and though you let go of the notion with your past life, it didn’t change that it was a world you had to feign blind to now. In your youth, four was a beautiful result of a simple equation, a funny origin to big numbers. It was a warm hug among the violent reactions when you’d get questions far below your intended grade level wrong. In a world where stuffed animals were banned from your childhood room, the number four was all you had. You didn’t particularly like how pathetic that made you feel, but it didn’t change how much it helped you on days like these.

Your palms retracted from their firm placement on the wall you leaned on, relaxing you. Releasing your slightly curled fingers, you stifled a bitter laugh at the desperate attempt to grasp onto something. It was always so degrading to scrub off the marks your acrylics made along the wall, but the stiletto nails made taps loud enough to bring you back. It was an absolute mystery how the school you worked at let you get away with these. 

Your little episode was finished as you settled your mind with the news continuing to drone on. You massaged your jaw, sore from the subconscious clench you were cursed with. You blew out a sigh as you felt your face and nodded when no tears were felt. Your phone buzzed, alerting you to the time and you groaned. Your damn neighbor would be here any minute now.

Jungkook wasn’t a mean guy by any means, quite the opposite. He was extremely insistent on your well-being, so much so it bordered on doting, and such behavior made you clam up. You didn’t know how to respond to his fussing over you. Hell, you didn’t know how to respond to most interactions outside of your old family business for a long while. That was just one of the many things he taught you, and he never once lost his cool doing so. He was patient with you, and you didn’t know how to thank him for it. 

You both had been in the same class when you attended university, and while you were fine with letting your temporary acquaintanceship go no further than asking for notes or the occasional study session, he was a force to be reckoned with. You just kept running into him and when you moved here and found he was your next-door neighbor, you knew there was no getting out of it. He was going to be your friend. Although, you never understood why he wanted to be so bad. 

Cut to a whole year after you both graduated, and it still didn’t make any sense. You both were polar opposites in a lot of ways. He was the regular party boy always at clubs and coming home at ungodly hours of the night. Meanwhile, you were usually in bed by 11:00 pm and only left your apartment for the job that barely covered your rent. Needless to say, you weren't exactly a social butterfly, so if you found one friend in Jungkook, you figured it wouldn't be such a crime.

However, having Jungkook as a friend meant having a weekly dinner with him as he mooched off of your TV and you mooched off of the food he paid for. It was an even enough exchange. Plus, it was nice to talk freely, or well, as free as you've ever been able to, even if just for a little bit.

You faced the mirror, patting down your hair, thankful for how much healthier it was without the cheap dye job you had done yourself when you were 14, “That green didn’t suit me at all,” You mused, fixing your hair, “Plus it nearly ruined my hair.” You murmured to no one in particular, keeping track of your speeding thoughts as you settled back into Earth. 

Jungkook knocked on the door and you nodded to yourself, “It’s open!” You called and sat down at the table as he walked in, take-away bags in his hands.

“You really shouldn’t leave your door open like that, you know.” He tsked like he always did. It just made sense to leave it unlocked when you knew he was coming, especially if you needed to run to the bathroom so you could finish crying before facing him. Of course, you haven't had to do that in a while, but better safe than sorry. Your issues, for lack of better term, were no secret to Jungkook, and you both knew it, but you liked to avoid having him see you at your most vulnerable when you could help it.

You simply shrugged as you helped him unpack the food, “We’re the only ones on the top floor.” You reminded him, “it would be quite silly of a criminal to come all the way up to the 20th floor.” You chided.

“Still.” He tried to argue but quickly gave up. Jungkook knew by now that you could take care of yourself, but sometimes you wished you’d let him do it for you more often. However, he let this potential argument go, this time. He looked around and narrowed his gaze at the TV, “Why do you still have the news on?” 

You paused and looked up from your food as it prattled on about your family, “I guess I forgot,” You forced your casual tone, “Did you get-”

“Syndicates, huh…?” He echoed the news reporter’s words, eyes fixated on the screen with a curious look, “The news is so weird with this stuff.”

The chopsticks in your hand stilled. You wanted to say that the syndicates were even weirder since they were the ones that probably signed off on the script. As a little girl, that was the first thing you had learned, how to play chess outside on a park bench, how to play chess crushing people in your hands as you moved them. It had all been the same to you for far too long. 

“Like I care, it’s just background noise.” A lie, you hated lying, but it was something you had to get used to doing for the sake of your safety.

“You aren't scared of these guys at all?” Jungkook looked at you like you were crazy, although his eyes didn't match the rest of his face's intensity.

Shaking off the weird notion, you rolled your eyes, “A world without you buying me dinner is pretty spooky but that,” You gestured to the TV, “Is a cheap haunted house in comparison to the hell of making dinner or worse, ordering it myself, on a Friday night.” You giggled.

Jungkook rolled his eyes with a scoff, “Is that all I am to you? A sugar daddy?” He asked in mock offense and you nearly spit out your drink.

You swallowed roughly before glaring at him as he laughed, “If you’re my sugar daddy, I need a new one.” You retorted and his laugh died while a childish pout settled on his face, “I mean, all I get is a measly dinner once a week and I still have to work and pay my bills?” 

“Well, what do I get, huh?” He crossed his arms, and it made you chuckle. Laughter had never come easy to you growing up, and it still had a hard time coming to you but after years by Jungkook’s side it was easier than ever to do, “Where’s my sugar?” He thrusted his cheek toward you, tapping on it with his index finger.

You rolled your eyes in spite of the flutter in the pit of your stomach and pushed his face away with your index finger, “My presence is your sugar, dummy.” You teased and how easy it was to be human around him made you smile wider, “Plus I let you watch your silly little shirtless men.” 

He clicked his tongue, “First of all, if you’re going to call them shirtless men, at least call them hot because look at him.” He pressed a button on your remote and his favorite fighter, Park Jimin filled the screen, “Second of all, it’s literally fewer syllables to just say MMA fights.”

You took a bite of your food and shrugged, “Don’t you have, like, a million boyfriends? Wouldn’t you make them jealous drooling all over Jimin?” You challenged, vaguely remembering Jungkook saying he had more than three boyfriends at some point. Not that it was surprising, most people had at least two significant others. Unless they were you, of course. You had no one to talk to but the man sitting in front of you, forget about a significant other. “He would make me pretty damn insecure.” You chuckled.

Jungkook scrunched his brows at you, “Six.” He corrected, mirth filling his eyes already.

You looked from the TV to him, “Hm?” You tilted your head to the side.

“I have six boyfriends, thank you very much.” He stated matter-of-factly, and you rolled your eyes at his tone, “Why? Are you trying to give me seven significant others?” He feigned a scandalous gasp, “Well, the relationship is open, you know, so I guess I could pencil you in–” You cut him off by shoving a piece of chicken in his mouth with a glare. The teasing made your chest seize for a split moment when faced with his teasing smirk, so this had been the best way to shut him up. 

Jungkook had always been a flirt, he often relished in teasing you to see how embarrassed you would get. Thankfully, over the years you had gotten used to it. You had already known his relationship was open since he mentioned how often they’re all apart, but you didn’t care to entertain that kind of intimacy with Jungkook even in your thoughts these days. It was just better that way.

“Ha, ha, we got a comedian.” You deadpanned and before you could say anything else, something on the screen caught your eyes, “What the fuck?” You mumbled.

“What?” Jungkook inquired as he looked at the TV, swallowing the food you fed him.

The camera had panned over the crowd and over an eerily familiar face poorly covered with sunglasses. The etching of a scar peeking out of the cheap frames told you all you needed, though. That was your uncle. 

What the hell was he doing showing his face? Let alone this close to the five-year anniversary of everything. The new syndicate in charge took great joy in celebrating the fall of your family, no doubt they’re itching for someone to make an example of someone. Worry tried to leak its way into your veins, but you fought it. Why should you care about him? If he wanted to sign his death certificate, that was on him.

Still, the sight of a man you were almost positive you’d never see again made you feel uneasy. You’d acclimated to regular life quite well, so one of the few remnants of your past life appearing like a ghost was ominous. In spite of your unease, you couldn’t look away. Almost as if you were waiting for him to poof away. You kinda wished he would. 

The camera changed and you finally blinked.

“N-Nothing.” You finally said, shaking your head, “I just thought I recognized someone, that’s all.” Your hands trembled for the briefest of moments as you lifted food to your mouth.

“Oh really, who?” Your only friend asked curiously and you shrugged as you chewed.

“Just some teacher that called in today.” You lied and it made your food taste sour for a moment. It was for the best you lied, you had to keep reminding yourself of that. 

“Hell, I’d call in too if it meant I could see the fight live.” You were thankful Jungkook dropped the topic and let your shoulders relax. You shouldn’t feel bad for lying, really. An unspoken rule between you both was that you never pried about private details. Jungkook led his life and you led yours. Hell, you don’t even know what he does for a living, but it wouldn’t surprise you if it was living off of his boyfriends’ income. Not to mention you didn’t even know if he lived with anyone else next door or if that was just a place of his own to use on occasions. Though, you couldn’t help being a little jealous at the idea of being so pampered. 

“Yeah, I could go for a silly little shirtless man fight on occasion.” You shrugged with a cheeky grin. 

“Silly?!” Jungkook guffawed, “I’ll have you know if he wins this fight, he’ll qualify for the championship, so this is pretty high stakes.” He toted his knowledge of the sport.

“Hasn’t he already been champion like a few times now?” You asked, barely following.

“Yeah, but, he’s been off his game this season for… personal reasons, so he’s never been this close to not qualifying.” He admitted, and your brows scrunched at the melancholy in his eyes. 

“Damn.” You mustered, “How do you know all this?” You asked, genuine curiosity lighting your eyes.

Suddenly, Jungkook’s cheeks reddened as he tore his eyes from you, “Interviews and stuff, you know.” He waved his hand dismissively and you rolled your eyes. 

“Nothing wrong with being a fanboy.” You chided, “I’m certainly in no place to judge.” You offered, reminding him of your fixation on TV dramas, making him snort before you both honed in on the TV.

These fights were quite fascinating and allowed you to at least tap into some of your training. It was how you knew that Jimin was going to win this fight from the first calculated punch, his form was immaculate and instead of going for the face, he drove his fist into his opponent’s ear. It was a dirty trick, but it was more than enough to give him an opening. 

“Holy shit, I think he might win this.” The fanboy across from you breathed. 

“No way he isn’t going to win.” You confirmed.

“Don’t get my hopes too far up.” He all but squeaked out, basically on the edge of his seat.

After a couple of rounds and idle chitchat, the fight ended with Jimin as the victor. You clapped lightly, but Jungkook was so elated he hugged you as he let out a celebratory roar. The first couple of times he did this shocked you so bad your hands almost went to snap his neck. Now that you were both years into the friendship though, the gesture just made you chuckle. Soon after, just like it did every match, Jungkook’s phone vibrated and he had to leave. He always left you with some kind of affection and this time it was a kiss on the cheek, a rare one, but not a huge step from the common forehead kisses he gave you.

“Don’t drink too much.” You warned and he flashed you a cheeky smile, “At least don’t get into trouble.”

“We’ll see.” He chuckled,  and you rolled your eyes.

“Well then don’t make it my problem!” You yelled and he waved a hand as he closed your door behind him. 

—

“Father?” You whimpered as a strong hand patted your head to calm you, or soften the blow of what was to come, you couldn’t quite tell, “Tell me you didn't.” Your voice was in shambles as you trembled beneath his palm.

The news mocked you as panic took a hold of your body, shaking it out of the shred of blissful ignorance you had clung onto. Ever since your father took you in, you had many responsibilities, but the comfort of not needing to keep up with the public facade kept you going. You hated the public, all the pleasantries, and honeyed words. None of it made sense, and now, now you felt foolish for not involving yourself more. For not ensuring that something like this could never happen and crumble the only world you’ve known. 

Still, even as despair monopolized your nerves, a tear wouldn’t fall. You weren’t sure if you knew how to shed them, but you knew it would only piss off your father. 

Moon Byungyeol was a rough man and calling him father teetered between feeling genuine and like a formality. He was a boss first, but sometimes he wore the mask of a dad. Sometimes, but it was enough times with enough gusto that you couldn’t tell which side of him best represented his true self– or if he even had a truthful bone within himself. 

He may have been rough, but he was all you had. He and the family he brought you into had been your first priority all your life, even when you had never really been his priority at all.

Not unless you could be used as currency. 

“Y/n, it's time for us to go,” His voice was somber, but even. You’d never seen him so outwardly upset, but even so, he didn’t so much as let his eyes water as his life’s work shattered before his eyes. He was left with a subdued longing as he looked at the TV, melancholic defeat infecting his usually strong posture, “I let this greed consume me, and I'm afraid it's begun eating not just me alive now.” He admitted and it made you feel ill. 

“...such evidence is linking the Moon Corporation to heinous organized crime activities painting them as a possible syndicate, but no arrests have been made nor has a formal criminal investigation on Moon Byungyeol himself been launched, but many workers under the company are being investigated due to possible involvement…”

Everything was dying. The realization that everything you did, all the lives you took, all the training you had suffered through, had never been for some prosperous empire you were promised. All of it had been to supply the lining of your father’s and uncle’s pockets. You should’ve been angry, shocked, or even appalled, but you weren't. You were numb to the fact that you were raised on lies. Fear resided in your veins about what that meant for you. 

“If I just cash out and retire, we could never live in peace,” He shook his head as he switched off the TV before he placed his hands on your shoulder, catching your attention, “But Uncle Byungjoo has a plan that I think might just work.” You swallowed hard at this. Anything Byungjoo could think seldom meant good things for you. On your best days with him, you were a mere afterthought, but on the worst days– most days– you were–”The only thing is that you and I will have to… separate…”

He was going to abandon it. No, he was going to abandon you. The only thing more pitiful than your fear had to be your shock. What reason did you truly have to be surprised that he was throwing you away just as easily as he picked you? He was going to cash out one last time, and leave like this whole operation meant nothing to him. All the while you had put an inkling of faith in his heart to love this empire, like a fool. At the very least, it was the closest thing to love that you knew. This entire place was all you knew. When was the last time you had gone out on your own as anything but his daughter?

“But…” Your mouth was woefully dry, “The empire, just like you said, it’s-”

“We were never an empire,” His self-loathing clung to each word and disgust curled in your stomach as you looked at his solemn face, “I treated this organization as a bank, a money maker, it was inevitable that the paper I cradled would catch fire.” The roundabout way he was speaking began to grate at your nerve. The pseudo-poeticism of his words did nothing to save his dignity, but you didn’t tell him that. 

You didn't scream, yell, or cry. 

At least you hadn't, yet.

“Then who will rule Seoul?” You wondered aloud.

“That’s not my problem anymore.” He said as if it were the easiest thing to come to terms with.

“Who will stay with me?” You asked meekly, immediately regretting it as you watched his previous words dance on his lips before he decided against it.

He smiled warmly at you and it brought a chill down your spine, “Some of us are meant to be alone.” He patted your shoulder and you wanted so badly to break into pieces from the impact. 

No one would stay with you. Not him, not anyone, and he didn't care.

That wasn't the answer you had hoped for. You hung your head in shame, shame that you expected anything other than a cold answer from a man on fire. The request for him to just kill you was on the time of your tongue before he turned around, ready to attend his last hurrah.

////

You woke up with a start from a bang outside, but considering the fact that it was 4 am, you chalked it up to city noise. Now awake, you stared at the ceiling and blew out an annoyed sigh. You were constantly plagued with flashbacks both in and out of your dreams, and you wished the rancid memories would choose one state of consciousness to haunt you in. Your therapist a couple of years back told you it's normal for people who have gone through what you have to constantly see what you were then in trying to dissect where you are now. Essentially, it was a constant cloud that hung over your head, and no matter how far you removed yourself from that life, its consequences would stay etched into your skin.

Another bang sounded outside your window and you grimaced. Anniversary week was beginning, and you felt more on edge than usual.

Five years ago exactly, you saw the match light. In four days, it will have officially been five years since you saw the flames engulf your home, your family, and everything you were. Each year, this week was chaos for the city of Seoul. Each day was accompanied by an event that slowly grew more and more above ground. It was almost mocking the past, the surfacing of dirty secrets. Secrets the world knew, but never wanted to see, cowards.

The new syndicate at the top of the kingdom was known as Bangtan to the underground scene, but with a “Group” tacked on after the ominous name, they were also the kings of the business world. They were much better at actually hiding their identities, hence why most average people assumed there was no such syndicate anymore or that the “law” took care of it. As if the “law” wasn’t under the thumb of the kings. 

Even so, your information could very well be outdated. The whispers from the underground, also known as the Underworld or even more to the point, Hell, reached your ears less and less as you removed yourself from the lives of anyone who knew who you were. No longer working at the diner your previous nanny ran shut you off from the underground so much so you seldom became aware of Anniversary Week’s events until two days before the main event. 

Another bang, but this time on your door, startled you out of your thoughts, “I can’t believe you went to the bar on a day like today- where are your keys?!” An unfamiliar voice spoke through your door.

“Ask, y/n,” Jungkook’s slurred voice rang out in a yell as you flinched at the volume, “Y/n! I need stitches!” 

This wasn't the first time Jungkook was yelling outside your door, demanding your assistance. This was just another facet of your friendship that you both silently agreed was fine. You never really asked questions, you just patched him up and left him on your couch. It really wasn't any of your business, nor did you have any desire for it to be. Jungkook was an MMA fan, and you knew he was big on that scene and the fitness scene, so it just made sense he would get into fights. You could only hope these fights were agreed upon prior to alcohol, but you weren't naive enough to actually assume that was the case.

“This isn’t even your door, baby, come on.” The voice grunted and your attention peaked. You had encountered a few men trying to help Jungkook home, but you seldom got such an obvious confirmation of their relationship with him, “What? Are you trying to booty call your neighbor?” The unknown man teased and you rolled your eyes. Were they all like this?

“I wish!” Jungkook shouted in response and you were fine with leaving your door closed this time until he spoke, “Ew, I’m dripping on the doormat.”

This made you huff as you hopped out of bed in your large t-shirt and shorts and ripped the door open. You were faced with a man with perfectly styled black hair in a three-piece suit accompanied by a trashed Jungkook with a short, but deep, cut on the corner of his forehead. The man that looked a few years older than you and Jungkook stopped struggling with your neighbor as he looked at you with the most pristine and exasperated face.Everything about this man was polished. Even as your neighbor lazily draped around the man, his suit had barely begun to wrinkle. 

Meanwhile, he looked you up and down with contempt before sighing, “Look, just forget we were-”

“Y/n!” Jungkook cheered before he passed out.

“No booty calls here, sorry.” You remarked flatly, “He usually keeps his keys in his wallet for some reason.” You nodded to his pocket before you looked at his forehead again, “But he does need stitches.” You opened your door a little more, gesturing for them to come in.

The man narrowed his eyes at you, “Do you usually play nurse for him?” You bit your tongue and swallowed his condescending tone with a sigh. You couldn’t tell if he was jealous at the thought of his boyfriend having some neighbor who treats his wounds in the dead of night or if he simply didn’t like you. Although looking at his face, there was no way this man was jealous of you. His gaze was sharp nonetheless, sharp and vaguely familiar, but his eyes held no recognition for you, so you let it go.

“Only when his blood is dripping on my doormat, for the third time this month,” You pointed to the sullied mat that you had just cleaned fully this week, “Bring him in, this isn’t that uncommon-” 

“But-” He tried to object, noticeably a little clammy at the unspoken knowledge of their relationship. 

“Any more blood on that mat and I'm making you pay for it, now come on,” You snapped as he walked in and sat Jungkook in a chair around your table. You shut the door as you pulled your first aid kit out, “You have to sit him on the floor or the couch.”

He complied to the couch, and though he didn’t say anything, you could see the question floating around his mind.

“When he wakes up, he attacks whoever is in front of him,” You spoke, preparing the needle and thread, and you had to ignore the curiosity peaking within you when you saw the other man shift uncomfortably at your comment,  “And I can't stitch and hold him down at the table,” You explained, settling your knees to lock on both sides of Jungkook’s legs and your elbows pressing on his shoulders.

“Aren't you scared he'll hurt you?” The man asked as you began stitching.

You scoffed, “I can play scared if that's what you want, but certainly not for free.” You chuckled, but he remained straight-faced. Tough crowd. You worked very hard to develop your banter skills these past five years, but he paid them no mind making your smile drop. 

Eventually, you just went on stitching in silence until the man broke the silence, “Who are you?” The man spoke mid-way through your stitching.

You paused for a moment, “Didn't you hear Jungkook? I’m y/n, and who are you?”

“None of your concern,” He clipped.

You snorted a chuckle, “You're bleeding on my hardwood floor, that has me pretty concerned.” You gestured to your hand to show him the small cut on his and he slowly grabbed a napkin to press against his hand with his mouth in a thin line, “Concerned for my floor I mean.” You clarified, “But a word of advice? If you don’t want to be suspicious of you, don’t act suspicious.” 

He sighed, “My name is Namjoon-”

You were tying the final knot when Jungkook snapped his eyes open, “Shit.” Was all you were able to get out. He immediately dove at you, pushing you to the floor, making the needle in your hand scratch your forearm before you threw it across the room to avoid the tempting notion of stabbing him with it. You sucked in a breath through your teeth at the burning sensation while you struggled to shake him out of it. 

It didn’t take a genius to deduce why Jungkook’s fight or flight was so concentrated, he’d obviously grown up with a reason to be. Nevertheless, it has never been your place to pry or judge, if anything, it’d be quite hypocritical. He'd seen you in a less-than-ideal mental state plenty of times, to put it lightly. Plus, you knew he didn’t mean any harm, and he was always pretty apologetic after the fact. Although, you were sure the struggle looked pretty concerning as you saw Namjoon scramble to his feet. 

Namjoon was trying to find an opening to cut in between the battle as Jungkook was sloppily throwing his fist down and you were moving your head to dodge each blow. Though his moves were sloppy, they were still fast and you could only dodge for so long. With no other option left, you sighed before slamming your forehead on his fresh stitches to make him stop to register the pain. You took advantage of the opening as you effortlessly pinned his arms down with your knees planted on his upper arms, “Jungkook!” You snapped as Namjoon watched his younger friend finally recognize you in his drunken haze.

“Y-Y/n?” He questioned, his tongue thick in his mouth, “You hurt my head- hey, you’re bleeding on my shirt!”

Your arm had a scratch about half the length of your forearm, it was shallow and oozing blood, but you didn’t flinch, “Wonder who made me hurt both my arm and their head, dumbass,” You muttered, examining his stitches to make sure the impact didn’t affect the new suture, “And you got your blood on my doormat and my forehead, so let’s call it a draw.” You grunted as you fixed the suture.

The sight of someone towering over his boyfriend after headbutting them made Namjoon on edge. Jungkook talked for days and days about how much he loved spending time with his neighbor, but something was… off about you. Why would a school nurse be that skilled in combat? Jungkook was a ruthless fighter and you hardly flinched. 

This string of thoughts prompted his mistake of grasping your wounded forearm to make you stand so he could properly question you. What he didn’t calculate in that movement was the fact that he grasped your fresh cut, which hurt like a bitch. This pain made you bring your other forearm to his neck, pressing firmly into his trachea as his back hit the wall with a bang. You both looked at each other in surprise at your reflex. You gasped softly before releasing him, “Don’t ever manhandle a lady, Namjoon,” You mumbled as you brought distance between the two of you, “I don’t do well being frightened.”

Namjoon regained his composure, impressed by your reaction time and ability to weaken his pride in such a short matter of seconds, “Who are you?” His tone was rougher in comparison to when he first asked the question.

“None of your concern,” You mocked his voice cartoonishly, becoming more and more irritated with his line of questioning, “Now take him, an alcohol pad, and go.” You hissed, unceremoniously tossing the package at him.

He gave you a sharp glare but complied, hauling Jungkook over his shoulder and leaving.  The door shut and you let a relieved sigh escape you. You shut your eyes tightly, frustrated that you let your instincts take over like that. Namjoon was undoubtedly suspicious and that’s the last thing you needed. You opened your eyes and caught sight of the clock nearing 5 am, and it was a Saturday now, so you were going to sleep in as much as you could.

----------------------------------------------------------

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Masterlist

[firecooking]

Hello. Sorry if someone has already asked before, but how many languages do you speak? I’ve been reading through your TUGS series on AO3 and noticed you write dialogue in English, French, and Hebrew. That and using old 1900s slang… it’s such a neat facet of your works—it provides cultural richness and makes the stories and characters feel much more colorful. But it did get me wondering about the author!

Heyo!

Actually no one has asked me about this before!

I actually only 'fluently' speak English [tho that could be contested with my grammar and spelling habits], altho I'm somewhat capable of conversation in German and can do basic exchanges in Spanish. I've completed most of the duolingo course in Esperanto but my recall on it is rusty, and I've spent time learning Welsh, Canadian French, and Klingon lol

Fun fact about me is I had to teach myself to read and write [educational neglect for students with special education plans is VERY real]. All of the grammar and writing knowledge I have is from books I've read and my German classes in high school.

Most of the languages I use in my fics are very carefully translated! I think any successful internet user who wants to interact with non English speaking areas should be able to read up and learn the translation rules for any language you wish to 'speak' with. It makes it very easy to open a translation dictionary and then get the result you want! Other languages don't work like English you have to learn how to get it done.

That even goes for other ways we used to speak English! We used to speak almost a completely different language mechanically 100 years ago. It is a very careful balance of writing accurate dialogue in the fics where you both use the English lexicon of the time period, get the voice of the character across, try not to have the characters say anything out right offensive [altho that's a touchy subject, words I find offensive may not be for others or others might be offended by what I deem safe to write, its a very careful balance], and omitting words that meanings have changed significantly [like awesome was a very common 1920s word, but you can't exactly have Captain Zero saying that, it'd sound wrong to 2020's ears]

I take my historical research very seriously! I am now very disabled and kinda a loser; so I'm home bound and bored a lot of the time. Things like my fic and art are pretty much my full time time occupier, so I absolutely love spending time getting nit pikcey and specific!

I'm so glad you are enjoying my work! I hope that going forwards I can continue to excite and provide good fic, lord knows the TUGS fandom needs it. Feel free to drop a line any time! I love answering questions about my AU and TUGS stuff in general! Hell ask me questions if you need help with your own stuff haha

[almightygremlinblob]

Small KenJin Blurb

A super floofie, teenie tiny KenJin ficlet ft. mentions of Sukuna and a very down bad Kenny. I swear, these two take over my head in the most random times...

Kenjaku closes the door with enough force to nearly slam it. It was the same old boring shit. Another day of blabbering about…pretty much nothing to anyone that was desperate enough to hear him and get their validation.

Another day Kenjaku was bothered something he couldn't place.

Well, not quite.

It was actually Jin who was bothered by something - but if Jin was bothered, so was Kenjaku.

"Jin…" Kenjaku pouts and tries to kiss him - the other cringing and pushing him away instantly.

"Not this vessel, love. He's handsome but he's a complete stranger!" Jin sighs. "You know this…"

"I thought you humans liked that sort of thing." Kenjaku opens up his stitches and reveals his true self, to which Jin then tiptoes and places a gentle kiss on the curse's teeth. "I apologize, my dear."

Jin grumbles, trying to push him away and the curse sighs.

"Jin…this is ridiculous." The pout is clear in Kenjaku's voice as he gently takes his lover's chin and forces the other to look at him. "You've been acting strange all week! What is it, dearest? What's bothering you?"

"It's just…weird, knowing he'll be around again."

"Ah." Kenjaku cringes, knowing the other was talking about his twin.

"I…I-I gave myself up for him, you know?" Jin fidgets with his sweater a little, and Kenjaku gently rubs his thumb against his forehead - a mutual signal between the two to let out their thoughts or true self. "In the womb, I let myself be eaten. It was my first and last act of love for my brother. The last thing I wished for before I died was to see him again, one day. Now, I-he…d-did he turn out okay?"

"Oh, it was you…" Kenjaku covers his mouth, feigning shock as he gently shakes the other by his broad shoulders. "My lord Jin! Have you any idea what kind of monster your 'kindness' brought forth, you ignorant fool?!"

"What." Jin frowns, grumbling as the curse pokes him on the cheek. "Do I look like I care? Is he okay or not?!"

"Oh, I'm joking! I'm joking!" Kenjaku snickers, burying himself under his lover's chin - though he had to lean down a little, seeing as his new host was a bit taller than his husband. "Partly, anyways. That does explain A LOT of his beliefs. As for your question, ah…well, define 'okay' first, won't you?"

"I mean, he…he hasn't starved since, has he?" Jin sighs. "Had a roof over his head? Proper education? Stuff like that?"

"Simultaneously none and all of those." Kenjaku rubs his arms, trying to reassure the other, when he feels Jin deflate a little. "He hasn't starved, but his diet consisted of pretty much everything considered sacred at the time…and people."

"WHAT-"

"He knows how to read and write, got really good at poetry and arts, as per the times, but nobody ever taught him. He learned it himself. From gathering and making the materials, or stealing them, to actual calligraphy and watercolor techniques." Jin recieves a sorry on the head as Kenjaku continues to explain. "As for the roof over his head…he had them, mostly, by taking whatever was left after he'd destroyed the entire village or killed and ate everyone in the house. But he'd travel a lot, too. Always looking for new ways to hone his craft and for people or curses to fight. Lived life according to his beliefs."

"Goodness...I never wanted him to be hungry again, but I didn't think...well, at least he never was. It sounds like he lived a life he enjoyed, too. Even from the womb he'd be kicking and punching." Jin giggles and then sighs in relief. "I'm glad..."

"He does seem a bit lonely, though." The curse muses. "Even if he absolutely refuses to admit it."

"He hasn't made one friend in the thousand years he's lived?"

"Not one."

"What?!"

"Well...there was one person, but they're more like a servant."

"M-my god, I…"

"Don't tell me you're feeling responsible…" When Jin tenses, Kenjaku covers his mouth in disbelief. "Don't tell me you were thinking of seeing him again!"

"I-I mean, I'm his brother!"

"Jin, you're insane!"

"I know, I know. I'm not…all there. I never was…" The soft huffs of breath as Jin laughed tickled Kenjaku's neck. "But I can't help it, you know? I just-I care. That much…even after everything."

"Jin…" Kenjaku gently but firmly caresses his lover's face as he forces the other to look at his blank expression. "He ate you."

"And I allowed it! Look, I'm not an idiot okay? I know he's dangerous, b-but...I mean-I should at least-"

"JIN." Kenjaku sighs. "Enough with this! Dangerous is an understatement when it comes to your twin. Just stay here, with me. It's safer with me…"

"…can I at least see my-"

"Nope. No Yuuji, either."

Jin groans and allows himself to fully slump on the curse. "Well…thank you for at least covering half of the payment for his schools. I don't think I could make enough for both his and Dad's bills."

"Ah, yes…the geezer." Jin can hear the venom oozing from the other, and he offers him a sorry pat on the back. "Thanks for not killing Dad, also."

"Anythi-…well, almost anything for you, my dearest."

"Shame we can't do more…" Even without looking at him, Jin can feel the frown on Kenjaku's face. "I hear he's made a few friends already. I'm juuuuuust saying, it would be really nice if we could raise him together. Be a proper family…"

"Oh hush! You and I both know why we can't get too involved."

"Okay, okay!" Jin huffs. "I'll drop it already."

[scarlet--wiccan]

Do you take similar issue with the term “minimoff” or calling mcu Wanda “Wendy” (I’ve also seen “Willy” now). I feel like it’s a different situation since their first names weren’t intentionally chosen to be reflective of Romani heritage and minimoff is less… intentionally dismissive than “mayomoff”, but I could see also see them being similarly problematic

I mean, I think "minimoffs" sounds silly because they're adults now, but I don't see any point in problematizing that. The intent is obviously different, and I just don't think picking fights about it would be a product use of my time.

In general, I take this subject very seriously, and when I'm entering spaces or leading conversations, I also want to be taken seriously as an intellectual, an advocate, and a critic. I know I sound full of myself saying that, but I really do approach this as a form of advocacy, and one of the most important lessons I've learned in that line of work (in fandom, yes, but also in academic and activist spheres) is that you can't always be derisive or confrontational. It does not open doors, and it does not encourage people to sit with and internalize the information you're presenting. So, I really try to hold myself to certain standards and avoid too much fandom-speak and stan lingo, even just on social media, and it's served me pretty well.

I don't expect everyone to take the same approach, but I do wish that people would consider their tone more carefully. The Scarlet Witch fandom has a really bad reputation. When you take a step back, it doesn't feel like the larger comics community takes us seriously, and that's largely because these important, sensitive conversations are just presented as stan wars. So I do think that folks need to learn how to act appropriately, especially when they are speaking to, or around, industry professionals.

Think about it this way-- when you showing up to an activist space as an ally, you know that you're not entitled to crack jokes, and you know that it's not your place to set the tone or lead the conversation. These are just comic book characters, but I think the same principle applies, at least some of the time. The push for better inclusivity in media is a form of movement work, and if you're not Roma, you are a guest and ally in that movement. If people could stop and remind themselves of that more often, these conversations would be more productive.

Again, I'm not saying you need to put on your Serious Ally Hat every time you want to talk about comics, but when you're arguing with a twitter racist, calling out an artist for lightening a character's skin tone, or even just trying to educate someone who genuinely doesn't know why this is an important topic... stop and think about it.

[fishnapple]

OMG, I love reading your detailed reaponses to the Tarot Ask Game! Lots of good and thought-provoking stuff. 🤩 If it's not done already or uncomfortable, can you give is your take on any of these? 👀 Thank you so much! 🥰 ✒️🦋 🌕🦉🍄🫧

Hi, how are you? Hope you're well 💓

Thank you for the questions and messages. 🥰

✒️ What’s a quote that sums up your philosophy?

“It’s a small world. It keeps recrossing itself. He who would do battle with the many-headed hydra of human nature must pay a world of pain & his family must pay it along with him! & only as you gasp your dying breath shall you understand, your life amounted to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean!” Yet what is any ocean but a multitude of drops? Cloud atlas - David Mitchell

There's a quote that talks about how the world, our lives, will repeat itself over and over again through many lifetimes in the same novel but it mentions su*cide so I will just quote a part of it here: "We do not stay dead long,[omitted], my birth, next time around, will be upon me in a heartbeat." It reflects my philosophy about the continuity of life and past lives.

Many things worked out as I planned them to, but that did not always prove of benefit to me. But almost everything developed naturally and by destiny. Memories, dreams, reflections - C.G Jung

This closely reflects the observation I have about life in general.

🦋 What advice would you give to someone just starting to learn tarot?

The short advice is to take it easy 😗

Learn the fundamentals and try to listen to your own intuition at the same time.

It will be different for each one of us, but in my case, books, fancy accessories, and numerous decks in your possession only served to distract me from really diving into Tarot. I find learning through direct experiences of reading, especially for other people, the most effective way. Also, watching how other readers do readings is also very educational.

Thinking about all the interpretations of each card can be intimidating, but if you group them by themes, I think it will be easier. The fool's journey, the meaning of each suit, the general meaning of each number, try to find the undercurrent similarities.

Like everything else, if you do it often enough, you will get used to it and get better at it.🕸

🌕 How do you connect with the energy of a querent before a reading?

I usually ask for their name (not initials) and their favourite colours, a scene they find beautiful so that I can build a mental image of them in my head. I'm a visual thinker so I can't think about something if I can't see it in my head. Then I will pick an object, usually a crystal to represent the querent and look at that object throughout the reading, imagine myself sitting across the querent. That's how I connect with a querent.

I have to admit that I don't feel sensations in my body like how some readers when they channel the energy of a querent and the reading. If I would describe my reading process in details, it would sound very mechanical, detached and lack the mystical or fantastical elements usually associated with divination 😅

🫧 How do you cleanse or recharge your tarot decks, if at all?

I sometimes put a Selenite crystal bar on top of the deck in good faith that the deck will be cleansed. But a part of me is quite sceptical about it. I keep my decks in separated pouches in my drawer to keep them out of light and heat and occasionally spread them on my bed to let them breathe some air.

I don't usually feel the need to cleanse my decks. Unless it was touched by someone else, then I would let it sit in a dark, open space, alone, just like how I myself would like to be when I need to recharge. An open space, cool air and darkness are good energy cleansing agents for me.

🦉Do you believe some people are gifted, and is that necessary to read tarot?

I think Tarot is like the art field or any other fields, some people will have an easier time grasping the system, do it faster, more distinctively. Some people are naturally more sensitive to energies, understand images intuitively, have the ability to articulate words in a way that flows. But that doesn't mean other people who don't have that natural disposition cannot do the same or better.

It boiled down to the mindset and how much interest you have for the subject. A curious and open mindset will make an accepting attitude towards many things, which will free the mind and the heart and let things flow more naturally, outward expression of this can be considered as natural talent. Giftedness may give you an initial boost but interest will give you fuel in the long run.

So no, I don't think you need to be gifted to read Tarot. You just need to be open to the idea of Tarot.

🍄 Do you use any tool, substance or technique to enhance the accuracy of your readings?

My tools and techniques are good sleep, well rested body, neutral state of mind and heart, good lighting and drinking lots of water.

My favourite motto when doing a reading: "first thought, best thought"

🪷

Get to know your Tarot reader - ask game

[decks-writing-blog]

Taming Houndeyes

Summary: Kleiner shows Eli and Alyx his tamed houndeye puppies.

[A/N] We were robbed of houndeye guard dogs so I wrote this. Also, big missed opportunity on how little Elisaac content there is with all the family fluff opportunities it brings with since Kleiner's her stepdad. Also, also, referring to Kleiner as Isaac, because that's most likely how he thinks of himself, felt weird. I'm sure I'll eventually get used to it though since if I want more content for this ship I have to do it myself so I will probably do more.

~

Having never owned a dog before Isaac couldn’t know for sure but if he had to make an educated hypothesis, he’d say training a houndeye was more difficult than even the most stubborn of dogs. It was certainly more difficult than taming Lamarr had been. Not impossible though, no matter what Barney said or how many times Eli said the same but in gentler words. Or how many times either them suggested he spend his time doing something important to help their budding resistance efforts. How Isaac had ended up becoming an important part of the team guiding those efforts, he still wasn’t sure, but he was helping.

Proper dogs were in rare supply these days. Not that houndeyes were particularly more plentiful but they were less conspicuous. Unsaddled by the precedent of humans using them as guard dogs, no one who didn’t know would easily suspect they were filling such a roll. … Mostly though Isaac just couldn’t bear to let the learning opportunities provided by having a small pack of houndeyes at his disposal go once he’d already acquired them. He was a scientist first and foremost after all. So he kept trying.

His efforts finally started to bear fruit once he successfully got a pair of them to mate. Turns out, like their Earthly namesakes, houndeyes gave birth to a live young and produced milk for them. Once weaned, getting them away from the pack for training was difficult but Isaac had long since discovered how to protect himself from the houndeyes’ shock waves and what foods could be used to distract them for a time. Once he had them alone, training still wasn’t easy but he did make good progress until finally…

“Eli,” he says as he burst into the room they’d decided would act as Eli’s lab and office. It still wasn’t much yet and they didn’t dare put too much into it until they were sure this place would be safe enough to allow them to stay for a while – unlike their last attempt at maintaining a safe base – and it was small but it was good enough for now.

Inside, Eli sat at his desk. Alyx sat in the other chair across from him. Between them were a strewn out mechanical parts that they both looked up from to turn towards Isaac instead. Considering how she’d responded to the robot Eli had finished building for her last year, that she’d affectionately named Dog, Alyx would likely enjoy this news too. And so before either of them could ask…

“Come with me. I have something to show you two.”

Alyx immediately hopped off her chair and rushed over to look up at him, excitement twinkling in her eyes. “What is it?” How much she took after Eli was endlessly heartening. How could humanity possibly be as doomed as it at times seemed when there were still young people like her so eager to learn everything there was to learn?

“Yes, Izzy, what is it?” Eli said as he stood much more slowly.

“Follow me.” Isaac turned and left, trusting them to follow. Which they did of course.

It took all of Isaac’s self control to hold in an explanation until the reached the young houndeyes’ kennel. Thankfully a short walk even with going at a slower pace to allow Eli to easily keep up. Alyx made a small, “Ooh,” sound as he opened the door and lead the way in. Normally she wasn’t allowed in here lest they hurt her but Isaac was pretty damn sure they were safe before deciding to do this. Eli, apparently trusting him, made no complaint as he stepped in next.

Once the door was shut, Isaac raised his fingers to his lips and let out a quick sharp whistle. Immediately the young eyehounds stopped what they were doing and rushed over. As trained, they stopped a foot or so away from him and sat, looking up at him, waiting for their treat. He obliged them of course, reaching into his lab coat’s pocket and tossing each on single small silver of meat. Luckily they liked rat meat best, the easiest animal to still come by.

“You really did it, huh? You tamed the beasts.” Eli said, putting his hands on his hips as they watched the houndeyes eat. “I suppose I never should’ve never doubted you.”

“No, you most certainly shouldn’t have. I forgive you though, it was difficult. And I still haven’t taught them to alert for Combine approaching but they can do simple tricks. So it’s only a matter of time before…”

“Can I pet one?” Alyx interrupted.

Isaac took a breath to say ‘yes’ but Eli interrupted him. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t. They’re not exactly domesticated even if they are tamed.”

“They’re Izzy’s pets though so he gets to decide.” She turned to look up at him, turning on her puppy dog eyes. “Please, Dr. Izzy, can I pet them? I will be good and gentle, I promise.”

The combination of that look and her calling him ‘Izzy’ – something she’d picked up from Eli and knew could be used to get him to do things – made it really hard to say ‘no’. Especially since Isaac hadn’t had a problem with the idea. But even if he was helping to raise her, did he have any right to call the shots on what she was allowed or not allowed to touch? He loved her but even he had to admit he wasn’t always the best at knowing what was safe for adults, let alone young children so… “How about you come in here to help me train them a few times to make sure they’re comfortable with your presence before you pet them?” He looked up at Eli for approval.

Alyx turned to look at him too. “Can I?”

Eli thought about it for several seconds before replying. “Sure but one of us has to keep a close eye on you whenever you’re in here with them, got it?”

“Got it!” And just like that it seems Isaac had a new houndeye training assistant. “Could we keep one as a pet once it’s all trained too?”

“Uh… let’s see how they’re training goes first, huh?” Eli said and was probably right with his caution as he often was. Isaac liked that idea though and would certainly be looking into having one ready to just hang out in the lab, as a pet and as another bonus line of protection should the Combine forces find their hideout. … Mostly, yes, as a pet though.

[mueritos]

Hey! Asking about your experience with being punk/punk adjacent and also in academia. How do you handle the two? Punk action and activism is grassroots, which I try to be involved in, but I feel like I’m just speaking big words and writing into an echo-chamber about gender. Like the only good I do is explaining to a group of cis people terminology. What are your experiences on this, if you have any?

Hmm. Yea this was difficult for me to balance too. I'll insert a readmore cuz this got kinda long.

I enjoy academia and research and being able to have more advanced conversations with people, but I was also sick of being in classes or circles of people who I knew would speak "woke" for the sheer fact of looking like good people, but on the down low were incredibly racist, classist, queerphobic, and just down right nasty carceral people. It was difficult trying to sift through who was safe to open up to and who wasn't, because many people were actually liberals in disguise (even if they called themselves leftists or leftist aligned). I also was never shy about being an anarchist/punk, I was the only person who wore my spiked jackets and boots to class, my outfits were loud, but I also began seeing some other queer people I knew wear their own jackets because they were encouraged by me (so that was nice).

I was doing activism on campus while in undergrad alongside the usual academic theory/research stuff, and it turns out that people actually will hate your guts the moment you start pointing out problems. The usual "YOU become the problem the second you point out THE problems", so I faced a lot of social backlash, even from other marginalized people who I had confided in about problems. My advice is that unless you're willing to become one of the most hated people on campus, don't do your activism on campus. It's a surefire way of making enemies, even enemies in people you have never met in your life. There are plenty of local orgs, food banks, and churches with programming that you could be way more productive in than trying to combat institutionalized oppression like that of an academic institution. You can try, believe me because I did, and while I learned a lot about organizing, I also learned when to give up and focus on my community instead of changing systems.

You pointed out that you're getting sick of explaining to cis people. This is definitely something you can stop doing, if you'd like. I stopped giving up my labor to educate other people (within reason) because I was one of the few trans people on campus. But I also have this value that I am not about to let some person walk around with the wrong idea about marginalized communities, so I always speak up when people say incorrect things (this has also caused some yt people to avoid me lol). Of course, you do this with compassion and with the goal of making sure their future interactions with marginalized people go better, but after a certain point, you need to be able to hold your energy for where you want to put it. Put more pressure on your institution or adjacent orgs to have things like safezone training (or bring in queer orgs for trainings/lectures). You can also just tell people some websites to check out instead of answering their questions, because surprise to them, their questions can in fact be solved by a simple search, they just are far too lazy to do that.

I dunno tho. I still struggle with growing so much in terms of punk/anarchist theory and ideas, but i have a serious lacking in actual community organizing. I'm introverted, don't like big noisy crowds, and I am quite socially anxious. Being punk is like my armor in a world that doesn't like me, because I find people fuck with me less when Im in spikes and boots. I find theory and academia so fulfilling for my virgo brain, but I also don't shame myself for not being active in local community. I know there will be a time I will be, but I also know that everyone is helping in the movement in the ways they can. It doesn't matter if that is at the food bank, in protest, on the computer, or by reading theory. All of it is equally important, and some of us aren't going to be good at everything.

I found myself feeling far more productive and alive when I was working with communities I knew would keep me safe. Started surrounding myself with more BIPOC queer people who were also working against carceral thinking, and I found my life to be way more enjoyable. connecting authentically with people who you feel safe with is just as important as organizing or protesting. You can organize or protest, but if you don't have a community to turn to, you'll burn out and won't be able to sustainably stay in the movement. Focus on energies, peoples, and love, connect authentically and have difficult conversations about love and politics and theory. You can be an academic, but still maintain the punk values you love in your daily life. Humans are made of contradicting values and experiences, we shouldn't shame each other for that and instead hold the multiple and contradicting truths in us all.

I can go on and on, but ill leave it at that. feel free to ask anything else in specific tho.

[gacha-incels]

Video Anon Yet Again

Thank you for not flaying me alive when I sent in my initial ask. You linking the tumblr post and goo's twitter thread helped to refresh my memory.

The first thing I checked in the description was for a link to the sources, but couldn't find one. So a friend reached out on my behalf, as I don't want to publicly "out" myself. I'll keep you updated if/when the drive owner gets back to my friend.

I've been trying my best to stay educated on the ripples indirectly caused by PM's firing of vellmori, as well as learning about the societal causes that lead to the huge gender gap in SK. I feel like part of the reason of the west's easy dismissal of the whole controversy is partially because the things Korean women fight for, are rights westerners take for granted/see as a given.

I will say though, trying to keep up with all of the news and how they were caused by PM does wear down at my mental state. I know it's important to care, and I know staying informed and informing others is one of the best ways to do that; but honestly speaking, I've been so worn down by all the other garbage from my micro and mesosystems/local politics, that I'm exhausted trying to stay afloat in my day to day life, and I'm unable to muster energy to try and advocate for women on the other side of the planet. I still try my best to stay informed (and your blog really helps with it, when I'm in a mind space where I can think more about these things), but its definitely frustrating/uphill battle trying to correct misinfo.

Personally speaking, I still have very complicated feelings regarding PM's actions and their IP, that i'm still trying to navigate/sort through since personal feelings aren't as black and white as the internet often makes it out to be.

Thank you for being a good resource aggregate that keeps track of everything that's happened since then, and thank you for being open to inform and discuss some of the things I brought up prior.

no problem, sorry if I come across as a person who would flay someone alive for asking a question, I thought I just wrote kind of bluntly lol tbh it's hard when you're not speaking to someone face to face.

in regards to stressing yourself out over learning this information I'll post my thoughts.

There's no reason to repeatedly expose yourself to disturbing news like this if it's affecting your mental and physical health. Completely burning yourself out mentally reading things online in some sort of kind, sympathetic but ultimately misguided solidarity doesn't do anything. maybe you'll feel like you really did something dramatic because your health has taken a serious toll in a short amount of time from reading, but these issues aren't flash in the pan. they didn't start in the past year and unfortunately they won't stop in the near future. on the ground level of advocacy we need consistency and stamina. at some point it becomes arrogant to think you can learn absolutely everything about a complex societal issue from another country by overwhelming yourself with information online. it's important to take action when needed and you don't need to understand decades of complex politics to protest pressing issues regarding misogyny, racism, colonialism et al. obviously. acts like protest, boycotting, mutual aid, strikes, walk outs, disruptions, and other street tactics are extremely important to a movement and typically require more immediate action. that's not what I'm referring to with any of this so please do not misunderstand. the average person learning things online needs to be consistent more than they need to totally stress themselves out trying to take in years worth of information within a week. in the long run you could develop fear and anxiety around reading news like this and completely avoid it, in the short run the stress will begin to negatively affect your health. this isn't going to help anyone. Learning your own mental limits is legitimately one of the most important things anyone can start doing, this is also something that doesn't happen overnight. it's a process. this will also give you the confidence to understand how much information you can take in and you won't feel as if you need to explain yourself to strangers online if you feel guilty about not doing more. I'm not saying you're doing this but I have seen it quite frequently and it begins to disturb me. It's dangerous because you're putting your self worth in the hands of a stranger, it's like a secular confession booth. you can get confidence from learning and speaking with others but none of this happens overnight and it's not something you can rush. understanding the amount of information you can take in to stay informed isn't the same thing as closing your eyes completely towards it. this entire thing is a process, maybe in a year I'll disagree with what I've written but this is how I look at it now. I'm glad this small blog can be helpful and as always I wholeheartedly thank those posting the information that I repost here and I will continue posting what I can in solidarity with the women in South Korea.

[orange-orchard-system]

I do enjoy being able to make a difference in people's lives, whether that's helping them with a big discovery, reassuring them that they're not the only ones with a particular experience, sharing a tip they find helpful, or just letting them know that, hey, plurality exists! Here are some basic terms for it! Here is how it applies to what you were talking about and why I think you might like to know about it! ... All of that fills me with pride.

But... sometimes I really hate that being myself like this is a radical act. That a lot of the work I do is really nothing more than unabashedly being myself for others to see, and the implications that has on how little plurality is known, how unsure and afraid so many of us are, how many misconceptions and assumptions are made about being more-than-one. That who I am is something I have to educate others on, something I have to be cautious about opening up to others about, and not something I can just casually mention. I'm happy that people can learn about plurality and themselves through my actions, but... it's bittersweet, because it reminds me of how unknown we are; that we have a long way to go in terms of awareness and acceptance of even the most clear-cut, well-known, easy-to-understand presentations of plurality.

I'm not new to this conundrum. Long before we started working with the plural community, we've been hanging out in queer communities, especially aspec communities. If I had a cupcake for every time I heard a "bringing out the PowerPoint to explain my sexuality/gender identity" joke, I'd have enough cupcakes to fill up the entire dessert table at a potluck, and probably have some spill over the edges onto the floor.

It's just... sometimes I fantasize about laws for plural rights and protections being passed. The work it will take to reach that point* is so daunting, and while I am hopeful about reaching it in my lifetime, it doesn't change that I am currently a tired uni student who is still trying to figure out what to do with my career. I am writing analyses on medical texts that mention DID in-between my assignments for class. I am posting jokes about my system when my fatigue leaves me lying at the top of the stairs, unable to do anything but scroll on my phone. There is so, so much to do and I am so, so limited in what I can do.

* to me, this point in plural activism and progress is half symbolic and half a literal goal I hope we achieve together. Symbolic, because at that point, we will have made such significant strides in awareness in acceptance that even politicians and government authorities cannot ignore us any longer. Literal, because pluralphobia and its parent bigotries are still serious problems, and I'd like to hope legal protection would improve at least some systems' lives.

My system is so important to me. I don't hate them. But sometimes I hate that the world is at odds with us. Sometimes I hate that I can't just be.

[I'm not giving up any of the work I'm currently doing, if that was a concern any of you had while reading this. I've just been thinking about how] the plural community is one that never really feels quiet in the way other communities I've been in feel quiet. There's always this underlying feeling, this go-go-go attitude, this sense that one of the main reasons we stick together is because no one else gets it, and we're constantly fighting against the tide for a moment to breathe. We're not constantly drowning – I see many stories of acceptance and support out there. But we're a community very aware of the water snapping at our heels, I'd say.

Goodness, I love the work we are all doing. I love each and every story of success. But sometimes I wish we could all have a quiet night in.

[ikuzeminna]

Hi! How did you learn to read Japanese? If I'm not wrong that you do, is the Japanese depiction of the GW characters' personalities different from their Western depictions?

Hey! Learning how to read Japanese is definitely an adventure in and of itself. For me, I had learned how to read and write hiragana and katakana from the Yoshida Institute’s site long before smartphones existed, along with a few kanji. I would use hiragana for my cheat sheets at school. (Yes, I learned a whole different alphabet just to cheat at history and geography instead of simply studying for my exams like a sensible person, even though I realized it was way more effort. I'm not exactly smart.) I started learning kanji properly years later with the kanji learning app Japanese Kanji Study, which I can't recommend enough, then took a brief language course and then accidentally ended up studying Japanese in college for 1.5 years, which is where I learned all my beginner's grammar (みんなの日本語 anyone?) and, as is totally apt for a beginner, hentaigana.

It’s funny when you can't string five sentences together without issue, but can make out Nobunaga's scribbling, something many natives are incapable of. Great, balanced education you thought up there, folks.

At least I got a laugh out of one Ranma ½ episode where Ranma found Kuno’s journal entry and couldn’t read it because of course that doofus would write it in the most archaic manner possible. 

Anyway, as far as reading aids go, I’m just gonna plug everything I’ve used over the years for anyone interested. The Firefox extension 10ten reader has been a lifesaver, as has been Jisho. When it comes to comprehension, Google translate is dog crap. I’d recommend Papago, which must have been trained specifically on East Asian languages as the results are much better. Not perfect, but better in my experience. Google translate has long incorporated OCR (image to text) so it may be less useful, but I’m very fond of the no-install Capture2Text which can convert manga speech bubbles to text, provided the scans are clean enough to read the kanji.

For grammar, I stuck to Minna No Nihongo. Bought all the books and slowly work through the lessons now.

The most valuable asset though is having a fluent or native speaker you can ask. Nuance is impossible to grasp if no one explains it to you. Even with vocab, you’ll run into plenty of words with the same meaning. Dictionaries often don’t distinguish in those cases. Having someone you can ask makes learning a lot easier.

Now for the Gundam Wing part of your question.

I’m not exactly sure what you mean by Japanese and Western depictions, or rather who you mean. If we’re talking official sub vs. dub then yes, there are a few differences. Heero isn’t perpetually constipated in the original (he actually has a sense of humor!) and Duo is a lot less flirty than his dub version. But it’s nothing grave. Certainly not Seto Kaiba levels of the dub rewriting his character to make him rant about not believing in destiny every time he opens his mouth.

Or Saber Rider being the leader of the Star Sheriffs. wtf I grew up with a lie D:<

Now, if you’re referring to fandom spaces, I am, without a doubt, the wrongest person to ask as I have never seen what the Japanese Wing fandom is up to and have never really been in touch with what the West is doing either. Have I seen fanfics and do I know 1x2 is the most popular ship? Yes. Have I spent 10 minutes looking at a manga panel, trying to figure out what is going on, only to hit the back button as fast as I could once I did? To the detriment of my poor eyes, yes. But when it comes to fandom differences, I think @muwi-translates could give you a proper answer. I can’t really say much as I’m not involved in the fandom in a way that lets me know such things.

I just sit here in my bubble, talking to myself most of the time.