#a good writer's not gonna take the consumer aside and say that Thing Bad. it circles back to showing not telling

[pankomako]

sometimes media serves as an example of what NOT to do. now i say this thinking about a streamer committing too much time to an impossible task when he has more important things to do but genuinely this goes for a lot of media and people need to remember that

[doverstar]

Hello hello I was told by your lovely sister, one of my favorite people on the planet, to send you the same question I asked her to see what else you could say about it, since you write a lot of fanfiction and are more familiar with it than she said she was, so here I am!

I wanted to ask about fanfiction. I've really been thinking about that post Artist made about how a lot of fanfiction can be just used as a form of escapism, and not in a good way like Tolkien described it, but as a 'I hate life so I'm gonna read and write extensively about fictional characters rather than working hard/trying to improve my own life' Which I really want to avoid and not do. In the past I've certainly fallen into that trap- I would get so caught up in writing Marvel or Percy Jackson or Harry Potter fanfiction (not to toot my own horn, but was objectively good and I do think grew my skills a lot as a writer and character analyzer) that I would spend every free moment and many of ones when I really should've been working on school or chores or spending time with my actual family reading and writing it. I was probably doing that 5-8 hours a day when I was 11/12. (Yikes) Thankfully, my parents smacked some sense into me lol. It really just goes to show you how, for lack of a better term, soul-consuming, that these kind of fantasy pursuits can really be. Thankfully, I don't do that any more. I actively limit myself to a max of 3 hours of reading and writing fanfiction over the course of a week, which is a big improvement.

So yay! Now I have a definte separation from writing fanfiction to improve my writing and writing it to waste time because all of my energy is focused on it to the point where it is in my every thought. Good! Growth!

But now my new thing is this- I want to make sure that any and all fanfiction I write has a definite point. I want it to point to good things and have clear messages and blue flowers and point to Jesus, even if it isn't specifically a 'Christian' fanfiction.

But how do I go about this trying to intentionally bring in blue flowers and good messages and beautiful themes, and not just only write it for my entertainment because its a piece of media I love? How to I make sure to firstly know what themes I can bring in, and then do it in such a way that's well-written, while also being able to have those fun moments and situations that are both in the piece of media and I've thought up?

And finally, last thing, is I'm wrestling through if I should continue writing fanfiction to 'fix' a story (which is why I started a Percy Jackson and Marvel fanfictions, I wanted to take the parts of each story I didn't like and were poorly done and make them better) rather than make my own point with it. For most of the fanfiction writing I've ever done, my goal was to improve it, to act like a ghostwriting editor the author hired to fix their fundamentally flawed story. But now I'm realizing that I was spending so much time and effort (which don't get me wrong, I do not fully regret, I really do think that I've gotten far better at fiction writing through this) and I didn't even add any more goodness or morals to the story in a way that made it more soul-sustaining and truly good. I wanted to add a lot of bits that made be as a reader squeal and get happy over which... I don't think is bad per say, but its not what I want my fanfiction to be like any more. With my writing, I absolutely do want to improve on the source material, yes, but I also want to figure out what sort of themes and goodness I'm going for with it. So should I continue writing these large projects (cause each piece covers several books/movies) for improvement and also try to expand on the good ideas and themes the authors had, even bringing in my own, or should I just set it aside as that was great, but now I need to focus on making writing morally good and not just for entertainment?

I know a big part of this is wisdom and descretion- things that God has blessed me with but I know I always can pursue more of. So I know a absolute perfect answer to this question will require time and experience. But after sorting through my word-vomiting (sorry lol), what would you say to all of this? Thank you!! <3 I love you and your blog so much btw!

Golly, what a question! I haven't seen what Arti answered yet - I've been at work - but I'm on break now, so I can give it a try! I bet I'll end up saying a lot of what she said, making this an unnecessary and VERY LONG read, but here goes-

I do write a lot of fanfiction, and I have been since I was 8 (aka for a long, long time, gosh I'm old-). I wrestle with a lot of what you've described! I've been on the brink of quitting fanfiction altogether lately; there will come a time when I need to "grow up" in that area and commit to only writing what's just mine. I do have original stories, original worlds, original characters, but like you, when I want to practice and learn, I turn to fanfiction. It's a wonderful platform in that sense!

I would say you're right on the money when it comes to what the Lord has gifted you with. You should use wisdom, and you should use discretion. Your writing should be used to point to what's true, and there should be intention in no matter what you're creating. We're not only called to glorify God, we're called to excellence. Everything we do should be done to the best of our ability!

And what you believe, if you really believe it - about what's true, about how we ought to live and what's important - is definitely going to bleed through into whatever you write. It's the truth, and you've found it, and it can't help coming out. Making something (writing in particular) requires pieces of us, and if that's the case, then our Christianity (for lack of a better phrase) is going to show up in our stories. Even if the characters belong to someone else.

If you find yourself writing a story just to squeal over a ship, just to get secondhand butterflies when the male lead's being dreamy, just to vent some sort of difficult emotion you're dealing with or live vicariously through a character, you should close the laptop. I've written plenty of things that make me feel happy or excited (like you said, that's not bad!) but if that's the only reason you're writing it, it's a waste. And on another, semi-related note, a lot of people only write fanfiction to indulge in emotional pornography. It's not as steep a slope as you might think. When my father-in-law gets just a little drunk every night before bed, it's still sin. It doesn't matter how much or how long it lasts. He's still drunk, and he shouldn't be. So be careful! (she said, to herself, often-)

As for writing just to fix a story - if it's bothering you, and you see what they ought to have done, I say go for it, and here's why: it's teaching you something. It's you figuring out why what the source material did was dissatisfying, and it's you figuring out how your alternative is better. You're essentially teaching yourself what not to do. Now, if you want to write it and fix it and you want to keep the focus on good things, true things, there's still a way to do that. Work out what was good and true already about the source material and draw from that when it comes to theme.

I use a Notes document. I'm not talking about the Notes app on smartphones, I'm saying I open a Word document (or whatever your equivalent is!) for every single thing I write (fanfiction, original, etc.) and I entitle it "[Insert Story Title Here] - Notes.doc" and then I word-vomit at myself. I write at the top what the theme of my writing is going to be this time, and why, and underneath that I explain to myself where I see those good and true themes in the source material and how I'm going to magnify them and use them to point to the truth (specifically some Christian truths) in my story now. I figure out how it will all work and feel canon and then I move on to the pre-write for each chapter. It's good practice, it's great fun, and it keeps me on course when I start to drift into self-indulgence during the writing process. It's fun to visit Atlantica and Stars Hollow and get inside Caitlin Snow's head and show the world why I think Rose Tyler is the best thing to ever happen to Doctor Who - but all of those things can pull me away from the messages I'm trying to communicate.

Fanfiction should not be escapism. I cannot write when I am freaking out. I cannot write when I'm miserable, or angry, or fighting with someone. When I'm low emotionally and my spirit is scratched, I can't complete a single sentence. I can't. I think the Lord did that in me for a reason. I don't use fanfiction to escape reality or to deal with reality. When I was younger, I considered a day when I wasn't writing to be a wasted day. I needed to write. I needed to make something. But I prioritized that over reality, and yes, that is sin. I wasn't escaping, but I was idolizing, and that's wrong. I'm impressed by your self-inflicted limits! I could've done with that at 12 myself.

Fanfiction shouldn't be all self-indulgence, either. Yes, you ought to have some fun when you're making things. But have self-control! I love writing fanfiction and drawing and editing videos. I love it. It's so much fun to me. I get genuine joy out of it. And when I look at something I'm making, I say to myself, "Self, is this a waste of time? Does that part need to be in there or are you just playing?" And then I examine my motives and I examine the thing I'm worried about and I determine whether or not it takes you out of the story or draws you away from the themes (in writing specifically) or if it's okay to add because it's pleasant and matches one of the good, lovely, honorable, etc. things that are true in life that God allows us to have and enjoy, because He's just that good. And then I have to either say to myself, "Self, this is fattening," and delete it, or I say to myself "Hey, dolphins twirl," and leave it in, making sure I'm still on course.

Dolphins twirl! Why? We don't know why they twirl! God does. God made them twirl. God made them animals that play. He didn't have to do that! He didn't have to make the leaves change color. He looked at His creation and called it good when He was finished (you know, before we ruined it). He took pleasure in creating. We can too - as long as it's not pulling us or our readers off course. My husband doesn't have to be a good dancer to fit the biblical picture of a man I ought to marry - but he is a good dancer, on top of fitting what I should have been looking for biblically, and God knew that, and God did that, and I get to enjoy it and enjoying it is not wrong. Dolphins twirl!

Like I said, I'm close myself to putting fanfiction aside on the whole, because I can tell, probably because of the Lord, that it's nearly time for that. It's time to look up and make something more real, for more real reasons. If you're thinking it's about time for that for you, too, pray about it. Writing fanfiction is like anything else fun the Lord has blessed us with (everything good comes from God) - it's fun and good as long as you aren't misusing it. Everything in moderation. People take stories they love and characters they connect to and go and interact with them through fanfiction in a bad way, for bad reasons (or just reasons that are useless to man and beast), and I've done that before myself. I've been one of them. But it's not wrong to expand on the good and true things in stories we love, the things that are in line with what we know God invented, and it's not wrong to hone your craft and learn how to use what you've been given with excellence, so that when the time comes for you to write your own story that points to God, you're ready!

You don't want to be wasting your time or the talents you've been given. I say keep thinking about it, and remember why you do what you do. Stay on course! That's my advice.

Thanks for asking me!

[enden-agolor]

Hey enden! I just wanted to reach out as I know these are hard times for you. I’ve been wanting to say something and give you some support, but I have never known what to say, so I’m just gonna wing it.

First off, I would like to preface by saying you are an incredibly humble artist and writer. You carry great talent, yet you seem to almost expect people to not notice that. Never forget your talent, and that even something you spill out at 2am will most definitely be praised. You inspire me to create, I have been in a art and writing slump for so long. I got caught up in life and lost the love for it. You’ve lit that spark in me once more and want to get me creating, and most definitely writing, in honor of you!! That’s amazing man. You have some real special talent, and the mcsm fandom alongside others are seriously so so lucky to have you.

Second, I send nothing but love and support to you and your boyfriend. I know everything will work out just as you guys need it to. If she doesn’t get her karma legally, she most definitely will another way. I know you guys are so strong and will pull through with flying colors!! Death of a loved one is never ever easy, and the worst always happens to the best people. Know that none of what happened is your fault, don’t let guilt consume you, and both of you take care of and love yourselves. You guys seriously deserve it.

Lastly, on a less dreary note, I would like to ask if you had any fan fiction prompts for Jesskas? I want to write so bad, but I cannot come up with a proper idea that is really interesting and solid, yanno? I want to write something long, that I can really pour my heart out into. So if you had any tips or story prompts, it would seriously be appreciated, and you of course would get a huge shoutout, as you would with or without helping me since you are such a huge inspiration to me.

Best of wishes Enden!!

This may be a long response, so here-

First off, I suppose you are right when you say I don't really expect people to enjoy the content I create. It's not an easy concept for me to grasp. I have a lot of trouble seeing how people can like my stuff so much, or god even say I'm their favorite mcsm artist when there's so many others out there that carry so much more skill with colors and backgrounds and such. I know I'm not supposed to compare myself to others, but it is an incredibly hard habit to end. It's why I'm so shocked when I see actual fanart of my aus, or god even my writing. I cannot go back and read me own works for the life of me because I just cringe so bad at it, so when people say it's good I really just have to trust them and believe it.

All I could ever dream to do is inspire people to create and grow with their own imagination, so hearing that my stuff has done that sort of thing for you (and others who have told me the same) it brings me so much joy, but it truly is entirely hard to believe that it's me and not someone else being the one to do that. I don't know, but I am very honored to hear this from you. It only inspires me to push myself further and I don't know. Maybe some day I can push my imposter syndrome aside and really get a firm grasp on my full potential and be proud of it.

And thank you for the love and support towards our situation... As the days go by I fear more and more that that woman will get to keep her dog and nothing will come out of this other than we just have to move past it. So I hope you're right when you say she'll get her karma some other way. I've never in my life wished something bad to happen to someone. Not like this... So if karma does catch her, let it be as devastating to her as it was to us.

Now, real life shenanigans aside, we can get to the jesskas stuff 😏

For fanfic prompts, I always suggest exploring canon before getting into anything truly ambitious. If there's a certain scene in the game you'd like to further explore and add on to- do it! Like I've always wanted to write a fic that gets into a deep emotional moment between Jesse and Lukas after Jesse rescues Lukas and Petra from the Nether during episode 8 and they all enter the player dorms for the night. Just those off screen moments where you can take the characters and add more to the story is easy and fun in itself. I always like to look deep into the emotional aspect of it all, and really dive into how the characters might be feeling after a situation and how that gentle moment alone together could bring them closer. What I already mentioned being a good example because it's directly after PAMA, Jesse having to watch Lukas and Petra(or Ivor) die, and so on. There's a LOT of feelings to explore there. If that's something you'd want to try and tackle, go for it!! But if there's another scene from the game that really sticks out to you that you feel could be so much more, go for that too. It's good to start small and practice how you want to write the characters. Only reason I started a huge fic like Recovery straight away was because I'd been rping jesskas for like a year and a half already and was confident I knew how to write the characters and I wanted to do more for the little community by writing a nice big fic.

And again, it's Minecraft. There's a whole world to explore and put these two right in the middle of it. Think up certain scenarios you like and add on to it! Like if there's a certain scene you really want to do, build to it. Give the characters a goal and put obstacles in the way so you can really flesh them out on the way to that goal. What made them want to go there? How do they get there? What do they do when they get there? How do they communicate with others that might also be there? And how differently do they treat eachother compared to how they treat the others? Those are all things you really want to know ahead of time. Also pay attention to the scenery. Really look into the visuals your mind creates and do your best to get into the details about it all. There's a lot to get into with writing, and the best part about it is you're in complete control, so go crazy with your imagination, especially since it's Minecraft. It could be entirely self indulgent, or even something out of your comfort zone. No matter what it is, it's still growth and it's still progress to being a better writer. Just make sure you're having fun.

Also, thanks for taking the time to send this ask. I appreciate you 🩷

[rahleeyah]

I try not to comment on how people comment bc the thing is like. I'm grateful for every single comment people leave and I want to encourage engagement but I also understand how hard it can be to leave those comments in the first place. I'm not ever gonna post anything demanding comments or saying you have to comment or that you have to do it in a certain way but sometimes I feel like maybe there's a disconnect where people maybe don't realize how their comments impact the writer.

When I receive multiple comments about how the readers want more, "the only thing wrong with this chapter is how short it is!! I want more!!", "I can't wait for the next one!!!", "post more now!!!", that is, to me, utterly demoralizing. It doesn't feel like a compliment. I try to tell myself it is, that it wasn't meant to be an admonishment, but it is. Those comments aren't replying to what has been written. They aren't praising what has been written; those comments aren't in conversation with the chapter at all. It is not engaging with the published chapter at all, not saying anything about what happened or how they felt about it or what they might have liked. All those comments tell me is how much I've disappointed you.

My multi chapter fic updates are always, always, always 2000-2500 words. It has been this way for over a decade. I do this for two reasons.

The first reason is that this is the amount I can write in an hour after work. When I'm tired, when I've been going all day, I set aside some time between work and cooking dinner to write and that's how much I can do in that time frame. If I only wrote the 2k and didn't post it, just left it to finish the next day, a) I would lose all my momentum and the tone would change and it would require more editing b) the lack of consistent engagement (bc y'all would only get one single chapter a week (if that much!!) this way and almost no one comments after the first 24 hours a chapter is up) would make me feel like no one cared about it, which would disincentivize me to continue and c) I would get so fucking bored and overwhelmed by how long it was taking to move the story forward that I'd never finish. Multiple 2k chapters a week is the method that allows me to make the most consistent progress on the stories.

The second reason is that until about April of this year I was posting 4-6 times a week, and I'm still averaging 3-4, all on weekdays, and this length of chapter is easy for people to consume in a relatively short period of time in their own busy lives. I want people to see the notification email and be able to read the chapter then, not have to wait (and forget about it) or worse just skim it bc it's too long and they don't have enough time.

I update this way for me but I do it for the readers, too. I could try to force myself to write longer chapters, only update once a week, or god forbid go radio silent for six months at a time and only post a story when it's done but why would I want to do that? How lonely that would be for me! And how much less fun would that be for the readers? When the updates come like this there's conversations happening, there's a back and forth between me and the readers that sometimes changes the direction the story goes, there's opportunity for readers to think about it, to imagine different scenarios, to have the ongoing updates be something to look forward to, to really feel emotions and enjoy it, and sometimes I think commenters don't realize what it would cost if I did do what they're asking for. And sometimes I think they don't realize how bad it hurts, to work hard on something and be proud of it and be met with a chorus of "you are not good enough - do more."

[waywardimpalawriter]

Man out of time (Marcus Moreno x Female Reader)

Man out of time

Pairing:  Marcus Moreno x Female Reader

Characters: Marcus Moreno, Missy Moreno, Anita Moreno, mentions of Miracle Guy,  

Setting: few months after the end of We can be heroes 

Rating: PG-13 for now

Warnings: few curse words, angst mostly,

 Word count: 1,610

Summary: Simple, two syllable word Dictionary.com say’s it means easy to understand, deal with, use, etc. Marcus Moreno curses its existence, wishing his katana’s could cut through with a neat slice and bring back what he’s lost.   

Notes: Written for Writer Wednesday held by the marvelous @autumnleaves1991-blog​. I’ll admit I battled with this one for a good while and with the help of @icanbeyourjedi​ decided this would be my first Marcus Moreno fic. I do hope you all enjoy and as always much love to all my doves. 

“You promised remember?” Stubborn set to her small statue, arms across with a deep glare in those normally sweet brown eyes. “What happened to that promise dad?”

Looking to his mom for help but coming up empty as she just lifts her hands and shrugs with a small roll of her eyes before turning away to head back towards the kitchen. “Thanks mom,” slight sarcastic twist to the tone. Hand resting on popped out hip studying his daughter while searching for the right words to explain. “True it’s no emergency like two months ago Missy but the mission is simple enough I’ll be back home before the weekend.”

“Take me with you then,” brow lifting in challenge remind Marcus so much of her mother the memory picking his heart.

Pushing those thoughts aside, “I can’t you have school and training,” seeing her fixing to protest he holds up a hand to stall the flow of words. “Besides it’s too dangerous, this isn’t a typical mission the Heroics would go on.”

“So they push it on you, why?” Voice rising slightly with worry and a dash of fear for her father’s safety.

Running a hand through his hair tugging the dark strands lightly in frustration. “Things are…” always searching for the right words to explain, without giving too much away and keeping Missy in the dark to protect her. “Complicated Missy I have to lead by example you know that sweetheart. Please trust me when I say this isn’t something I want to do.”

“Then why…”

Sighing Marcus steps towards his daughter crouching down so their eye level, “Because I’m the only one qualified to take the mission.” Resting a fingerless gloved hand on her slim shoulder, “Simple in and out, take out the bad guy done,” offering her, his patented half smile. “Besides you’ve got your friends now and training you’ll never notice I’m gone.”

Expressive chocolate eyes roll but the smirk is all Moreno when they lock back with her father’s. Flinging herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck and hugging the life’s breath from his lungs. “You’re wrong dad I’ll miss you,” trying to keep the trembling from her voice. Tears pricking the back of her eyes, nose rubbing along the leather jacket he’s wearing. “Four day’s right? No longer?”

“No longer just four days sweetheart,” pulling back to smile at his daughter catching the fear in her glassy eyes. “I promise to be safe.”

“And come home right?” She adds still clinging to her father’s shoulders. Memories of watching the alien’s wrap their mechanical arms around and pull him into the ship still very fresh in her mind. Never wanting a repeat performance of those horrible three hours.

Nodding, “Yes ma’am and I expect you to mind your abuela, do your homework and train.” Ticking off each one while giving her a smile.

“Always dad,” eyes rolling again as she lets him go, standing to his full height now. “When do you leave?”

Smiling slipping to a frown, “Once I’m packed. Intel came in this afternoon and I’ve been briefed.”

“Ah so that’s why your wear this ridiculous get up and rode in on that obnoxious two wheeled death machine,” putting her own words into the conversation, Anita Moreno rejoined her son and granddaughter leaning heavily on her cain. “Don’t you dare roll your eyes at me Marcus Moreno you aren’t too old for me to whip,” banishing her walking stick towards him affectionately.

“Mom,” wanting too but doesn’t roll his eyes at her words, heart warmed by the undercurrent of worry he picks up despite her admonishment. Knowing much like Missy, she worried about his well being and the dangers lurking around each corner for the leader of the Heroics. “Neither of you need to worry, it’s a simple mission nothing I haven’t faced before.”

Boy had he been wrong about those last few words, cursing that two syllable word with every fiber in his being while trying to adjust to these strange surroundings. Floating car honking, racing pass Marcus standing stock still in the middles of what didn’t appear be to a street.

“Hey asshole move before you get flown over,” half hanging out the window with a middle finger salute aimed his way.

Itching to use his powers on the punk Marcus shakes his head stepping back and almost tripping over the cement curb.  Mesmerized by the sheer sights surrounding him. Blinking several times thinking he’s seeing things or at the very least Miracle Guy is playing some seriously messed up trick on him.

“Lost?” Soft feminine voice questions from behind him.

Turning slowly, weary of who’s standing at his back, “You could say that.”

“Marcus Moreno?” Gasp issues from her parted lips eyes shocked wide almost like seeing a ghost. “But… but your…”

Frowning unsure of this woman with how she’s acting at seeing him. “I’m what?”

“Dead…” her words echo around him like a thick fog.

Head shaking, reaching into his jeans pocket to pull the cell phone out cursing upon finding it’s out of juice. “The rumors of my demise are greatly exaggerated.” Trying to make light even as a stone starts to sink in his stomach. “Miracle Guy put you up to this? Has to be some kind of simulation testing me right?”

“No… no it’s,” bitting her lip, she takes a step forward pulling a thin clear plastic looking object from her pocket. “What year is it?”

“Why?” Looking between her face and the light up piece of tech in her hand, Marcus takes a step back. Only to be honked at by another flying car. “Tech guys stepped up their game this time around.”

“Because,” swallowing harshly, “your not in Kansas anymore Toto.” Trying and failing to give a half smile. Only to have it fall with he scowl Marcus sends her. “Answer the question first then I’ll explain.”

Sighing, running a shaky hand through his hair, dread filling his veins, “2021, March if I remember.”

“I”m sorry Dorothy but you’re wrong,” glancing down eyes focused on the thin piece of plastic in her grasp. Pulling up the calendar to show him the date. “It’s March 14, 2041 and you good sir have come back from the dead.”

Gapping like a fish out of water, Marcus can’t seem to string two words together till a bubble of laughter leaves his chest. Morphing into chuckles and finally a great big belly laugh which has him doubling over holding his stomach and slapping his knee. “It’s a joke right? Miracle Guy, Tech-No he’d be able to pull something like this off.”

Glancing up at her, seeing the weariness even a touch of fear painted in those deep eyes. Turning her phone back around to pull up the news report. Male voice echoing around the two of them only slightly drowned out by the busy city still churning.

“The search has been called off for Heroic’s leader Marcus Moreno as it entered the third week with no sign. Our hearts go out to the Moreno family hit by this tragedy. Leaving so many to wonder what exactly happened and how did his last mission go so wrong.”

Shaking his head, eyes blinking several times to clear the imagines of Missy and Anita crying in each others arms. Surrounded by the children of the Heroics and the hero’s themselves, each taking the news differently. Vision filled with Missy’s red rimmed, tear streaked face breaking his heart, legs giving out from under him and crumbing to his knees.

“I don’t… I just left… it’s been two hours,” words stuttering from his mouth trying to grasp exactly what happened.

Debating with herself whether to step forward for comfort or turn to leave. The former winning as she drops beside him, returning the phone to its pocket and carefully gathering this broken semi stranger into her arms. “I’m sorry, this wasn’t the intension we had. There’s,” swallowing hard when she feels him stiffen beside her. “A plan, we had a plan but it’s changed and now you’re stuck.”

Wide with anger and shock, Marcus’s deep chocolate eyes raise to look at her. “You did this?”

Gulping for air and words, “Not me solely no, I apologize truly this wasn’t… I mean,” fidgeting under the intense stare, bottom lip caught by her tongue and drug between pearly whites. “I’m sorry Marcus so sorry,” short sob leaving a dry throat.

“Sorry for what? For taking me away from my life, from my time period or from the little girl who needs her father? Because as I see it right now this is all manner of fucked up and your gonna do something about it. Fix this shit so I can get back to my daughter.” Seething with rage Marcus stands to his full impressive height. Reaching behind to pull both katana’s from there sheathes.

Staying on her knees head bowed, “I can’t that’s the trouble Marcus.” Looking up into his pain streaked furious chocolate eyes, flinching at the sneer that contorts his beloved features. “I’m mysorry darling truly,” words whispered and barely meeting his ears as she vanishes into the thin air.

Speechless, arms hanging at his sides, stuck by the realization of her words, the video, combine with the knowledge he’s lost twenty some years with Missy watching her grow-up. Emotions swirl like a thick fog in his mind consuming thoughts and making reactions none existence to the world around him. A world that’s left him behind, while he’s stuck in the past and facing an uncertain future as a man out of time.

[general-du-vallon]

I find it really bizarre how there are multiple story-lines in the BBC Musketeres about slavery where the slavers are treated sympathetically. By which I don't mean that all slavers should be inhuman, because people who were part of the slave-trade were human and were like us (I'm white), we have to see ourselves in them, I think it's really important that we see ourselves in them and see ourselves as part of that history. So having Bonnaire who is charming, likeable, interesting, entertaining character who I like and then am horrified at myself for liking, that's great, that does something interesting with the narrative of 'slave traders are all evil and souless' and reminds us that, no, slavers are us, we can still easily perpetuate those sorts of systems.

(racism and slave-trade content warnings, as you'd imagine)

This is long, so basically it'll be - Bonnaire and the season one episode, Pierre Pepin and the season two episode, and then a little bit on Bonnaire's return in season three.

I haven't rewatched for this random splurge of thoughts, but I think the Bonnaire episode in season one is an okay arc. I could probably say something about how I think it's not necessarily bad, but definitely worth interogating the ways the writers give the majority of the story and character beats about slavery to the mixed-race Porthos character. But really what I think needs interogating is two things.

First, the way the episode tries to balance this heavy subject with Athos's history, which is more important to the series-long arc. It ends up (accidentally?) drawing uncomfortable parallels.

There isn't really a good way to compare or contrast a white man's guilt and grief over his (white) wife who was executed (by him). There's never a graceful way to push aside generational trauma from the ongoing slave-trade, or a black man's grief over discovering a man he looked up to is a slaver. Especially not when you're trying to juggle staging that grief and trauma with the white characters' trauma and grief, and most especially when it's the white stuff that turns out to be the main narrative drive of the series and the rest just gets put aside not to be brought up again. It's just bad. There's a lot more to say and think about, but that's a starting point.

Secondly, Paul Munier. Paul fucking Munier. Guys! He's part of the slave-trade too! framing him as an honest merchant is fucked up. He's not the good guy. We can't go 'okay so Bonnaire is bad, but the things he has got through the slave trade, those belong to Paul Munier, who bought them, and is honest and good'. The slave-trade was a triangle - you go to Africa and you kidnap and enslave hundreds of human beings, you take them on ships to America and plantations, you force them to produce sugar-cane and rum (rum is what Bonnaire is drinking on that wagon, when he's telling Porthos dreamy stories). Sugar and rum, those are like, bywords for 'slave-trade'. And then you sell those comoddities and you buy whatever the fuck you want to sell to fuckers like Paul Munier and bring it back to France, and then you go to Africa again. Paul Munier is part of the slave trade. He might not buy and sell human beings, but he supports and props up Bonnaire, and he benefits from the slave-trade.

He might be a good guy, I dunno. I odn't think it's a black and white issue of he's a merchant therefore he's the bad guy. But I think it's worth interogating and thinking about who gets to be innocent in this story.

I know Bonnaire comes back in series three but I'm ignoring that for this second. The other narrative around slavery I think about is actually the one in season two, where the king and d'Artagnan are kidnapped by slavers. Sigh. What are we going to do about this one, huh? there is a lot. I'm gonna put aside the whole 'white slaves' thing because I don't know what to do with that. It took me a few times watching this show to realise 'oh, right, yeah, Milady is a slaver'. Between series one and series two, she made money by selling humans. I know she's moraly ambiguous but I think that gets brushed aside and reframed very quickly. I don't think any of these characters are really framed as slavers. I forget their names, I think Stephen something? The brother who gets gutted by Rochefort in the palace. Yeah, he's a slaver too.

Other than the writers quickly forgetting that these characters are committing attrocities (it's not THE slave trade, so it is different, which I guess might be where the white slavers thing comes in, which is still, no, I still don't know what to do with that). I think the main issue with this narrative arc is what you'd expect the issue to be - the black character. Pierre Pepin.

Where do we begin with that? That was just a lot of bullshit. Pierrre Pepin is a black man in shackles,which is always a questionable choice when you're thinking what to put on TV to be honest. Especially when you then go about killing the him, and wow do you ever want to have second thoughts about having him die for the white royal. That's just not good. I don't like that he's against the king's systematic opession based on class and race, then he does a little turnaround when he meets the king. I guess the 'becomes a royalist when he sees that the white dude is nice' is necessary for the 'willing to die for his king' thing. I'm gonna go with a big nope for all of this.

There's a slave-narrative in each of the three seasons; there's Bonnaire, then there's Pierre Pepin's story, and then Bonnaire returns. He might not be a slaver anymore in season three, but the episode deals with Porthos's reaction to him, so it becomes that - the damage he did is not erased by him being quirky and funny. Again, the very real generational trauma that the slave-trade still inflicts is pushed aside for another character's past and current grief. I know Santiago Cabrera is Chilean and is brown, I'm not saying he should be pushes aside either. Just noting that in each episode Porthos's grief is set up in competition to another character's grief, and it's interesting I think that it's one of the other's backstories in each case. I don't have a conclusion about that, I'm just observing I guess. Anyway, each season has these slave-narratives, I think it'd be interesting to pull these out more and think about the ways the slave-trade is referenced and written about in the series, and why it's done in these ways.

I said it was bizzare how these narratives treat the characters who are perpetuating and benefiting from the slave trade, as well as the characters who are explicitly slavers. I also think it's definitley a choice to shove in multiple storylines about white people, in these narratives. Again, I know the Santiago Cabrera isn't white, but whatever Aramis's friend in that episode is called, is.There is the scene in that episode where Constance (a white woman) has a go at Porthos for the way he stitches Bonnaire, and Bonnaire is largely treated sympathetically in that episode. The characters on the periphery of the slave-trade are barely acknowledged as such, and characters like Milady and Stephen Mautrim (name is off the top of my head I'm not sure) are pretty much absolved of that, and I think we mostly just forget that part of Milady's story. And Pierre Pepin. God, I still don't really know where to start with his story.

I think it's worth thinking about these narratives and interogating this, because the slave-trade was a real historical event and a real trauma that still has impact today. The way we write about and consume stories about it is important. It's also important to remember that Porthos's mother was written as a freed woman because Alexandre Dumas's grandmother was a freed woman. It's a very real and very close history that's being used for these narratives, and it's heavy, you know? You've got to give it space to be heavy. It's a heavy part of this fandom, too, because it's not just something that's in the show, it's something that's in our fandom spaces. The racism and white-supremacy that makes these narratives what they are is part of our fandom.

so... those are my random thoughts on that .

[the-last-cuddlebender]

I wish you would write a fic where Aang is just flustered and is amassed at katara while she’s just doing nothing ❤️maybe after the balcony kiss (btw your my favorite fic writer 💕)

*smacks table* *kicks a chair over* *screams into the void*

(;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`) NO YOU’RE MY FAVORITE, ANON😤❤💕💖

Ngl tho, this prompt and one other have been haunting me for so long oml I just for the longest time drew complete blanks like...just nothing came to me. Nada. I even tried getting a legit 12 straight hours of sleep to turn my brain off and back on again but nOpE. I really wanted to keep it related to after the balcony kiss since I wanted the challenge, but gosh did it fight me. My brain go poof I hope you’re happy for making me question everything, Anon lol

Anywho, I love and cherish you, Anon, you bean, you godsend, you magnificent angel, you🥰~ I hope you enjoy the fic!!!

Words: 1,785

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Aang kneaded his right thumb into his left palm. The scars there were small and white and hardly noticeable unless he held his hand right to his face.

It was peculiar, to say the least. Only the hand that received Ozai’s lightning bore a shadow of his opponent’s cold fire. The belly of his palm was a memory of death barely avoided, but he tried (...tried…tried very, very hard...) to imagine the milky pattern on pale skin as looking like a leaf’s veins when held up to the sunlight.

Aang rolled his lip between his teeth. He was going to tear something if he crouched for much longer. The scars burned without burning, and he wasn’t sure which fate was worse. Was it even considered a scar if it was never open? It was just there after the battle like it was a maker’s mark on a finished piece.

Katara would know—there was little that she didn’t know—, but she had been far too exhausted for him to even consider asking—

Katara...

Aang’s face burned like the fire she lit in his cheeks was eternal.

If he was perfectly honest, he didn’t remember feeling the kiss.

He only remembered how the kiss felt.

Because remembering the moment when Katara redefined what happiness felt like was a moment Aang would never forget.

His shoulders rose to his ears; his face smoldered as giddy magma crawled up his neck. He teetered to one side when thoughts of her shifted gravity. Maybe it was a good thing that he was crouching, after all.

Katara…

...But then he looked at his estranged left palm and the new maker’s mark that it bore.

...And his heart crisped and flaked into ashes piling in the pit of his chest.

The scarring changed nothing but uprooted everything. It was a cancer, black and numb on his hand, like it was suffering from frostbite and needed to be removed.

The estranged left palm that saved his life was the same hand Katara held—all those months ago—when they kissed that day in the dark, trapped and alone, in an inky-black Earth Kingdom cave.

The kiss was a gentle waltz turning into a speedy tango, but her hand on his was the tug to lift him out of his chair. It was the strike of flint and steel that burned away the cobwebs in his heart and brushed aside all dust to welcome something new.

...Katara...

Sokka had interrupted before Aang could ask her to be his girlfriend. Time was an illusion, but time was precious. Memories framed in moments were the beginnings of beautiful new somethings.

What they were, though...

He really hoped Katara knew better than him. Of course, she would—there was little that she didn’t know.

Did the kiss make it—them—official? They said more in words unspoken than words said aloud ever could, but they hadn’t had a moment of peace since then. Surely, he had to ask her. He really, really wanted to, too. It didn’t feel right to celebrate an anniversary without a proper date—Spirits, he and Katara were gonna have an anniversary, oh Spirits—

Aang’s palm stared back at him. Embarrassment hit him like a skybison at full-speed.

Katara had nearly killed him during the meeting that morning.

Holding his hand—that hand—under the table was toying with whatever gave his heart reason to beat.

Aang had hugged her times a-plenty, but he had never held her hand in that way for that long. It eclipsed their kiss and left him powerless like a suddenly doused fire.

...It had felt like he was poisoning her—like he was touching her with an open wound. 

Aang slumped a little more in the corner of the balcony and stared at his callouses like they could tell him what to do.

The sunset was a smirk mocking his plight, but the moonrise was a gentle grin trying (...trying…trying very, very hard...) to heal his hurts.

Katara hated holding his hand. He felt that she did. She muted the room for him when she touched him; it brought her every reaction into stark relief. He had briefly wondered if that was what Toph felt like when she sensed when someone was lying.

Katara had stiffened. She even shifted like she couldn’t get comfortable. The breath that left her was fast at first like she was just told bad news. Her exhales after that were deep and almost seething.

...The worst part was when she wouldn’t look at him. She only glared about and around them.

Aang slumped from his crouch until his rear hit the ground. His right thumb stayed married to his left palm, and the white lightning stung tender like something freshly burned. He only partially wished that he had the top of his robes on when the thought of her regretting him cut the strings that held him together; he was a puppet collapsing against the balcony wall and sliding down gritty concrete. His scar—another reminder of her—stung him like smacks to the face and melted him into something made of noodles.

The moon was a bit higher, now, but its grin wasn’t any more reassuring than before. The bugs and small critters must have become annoyed with his melting because there was silence like Hei Bai’s forest when Aang made himself smaller than his shadow and dragged his kneading hand even closer to his face.

Their kiss—she had kissed him—barbed him with a sting like thorns on a rose bush except laced with poison and fiberglass. It was decaying from the start of something new into the empty longing for a once in a lifetime occurrence. 

Something shot him in the leg and crippled what made him Aang.

His right thumb kneading his left palm slipped and dug a fingernail into a callous.

He was goo freezing over—a body consumed by jennamite.

Aang breathed out, about to take the inhale to fuel the first hiccup dancing on his shaking lip—

—but then Katara stepped onto the balcony and leaned up against the bars.

Being an airbender had its perks, and his lungs not popping from the force and fullness of his panicked inhale was definitely one of them. He was a statue—a deformed gargoyle that looked more horrific to behold than to cross—, and the glimpse of Katara’s soft grin became a braided noose refusing to let him exhale.

None of the lights were lit.

Spirits, did he love his moonrise and the weakness that she gave him.

Katara was staring into something that didn’t exist on this plane and smiling at something he couldn’t see. She was a stilled lake normally raging and powerful and beautiful to behold. He wouldn’t dare disturb her. She was as calm as a reflection.

Sudden exposure reminded him of stepping into a forbidden part of the Southern Air Temple, and his presence became a violation of something precious. Katara was remembering moments of beautiful new somethings if the way she absentmindedly bent a stream of water about one wrist—her bending her joy unhindered—was anything to go by.

Aang blushed a shade of red that Aunt Wu could have mistaken as the intended location for eruption from the Symbol of Volcanic Doom. He closed his eyes, covered his ears, and dared to shimmy into the shadow of the corner. Katara was a warrior unmatched and without equal. That’s why she was Master Katara. He could no sooner escape her than escape the earthshaking hammer-blows that the hint of her smile drove into his chest. 

He sat on a tightrope whose cables were snapping and unwinding.

It was only when he felt weaker in a way that made him stronger that he peaked an eye open.

Katara was crouched and more concerned than bemused. “Aang?” She touched the knee that had curled to his chest and was threatening to buckle into his sternum. “Are you okay?”

…’Okay’ was a subjective and circumstantial term.

His voice was the sound of rubber sliding water off of wet glass. “M-hm.”

“What are you doing out here alone and...in the corner?”

“Well, I was just...Well, y’know…” His right thumb stuck to his left palm like they were nailed together. He tried (...tried...tried very, very hard...) to hide his wound from her. “Moon ‘s nice ‘n…’n stuff.”

Katara mulled over his words, said and unsaid. Her stare was an examination checking his vitals—his heart, his soul, and his happiness. She hummed a thoughtful sound that bookmarked her place in the pages of him.

It all happened in under the time it took her to breathe. Aang nearly stopped breathing altogether when she tapped her finger on his knee.

“You’re hiding on the balcony because ‘Moon ‘n stuff’?”

“...Yes?”

She spared his ‘hidden’ fiddling hands a half-lidded glance. “Aang...”

“What?”

Katara flicked his arrow. Then, she waited.

Aang didn’t crack. He melted. 

“I was just—I thought…” He deflated. “I needed somewhere to think.”

Something about his words or the way that he said them made every bit of her soft. Her concern riddled him with holes, and, when she settled on the ground before him and propped her head on her arms on his knees, there was barely any of him left to keep him together.

“You wanna talk about it? It’s okay if you don’t. I just haven’t seen that look on your face since...Well, I can’t remember since when.”

One part of Aang threatened to grab the other part of him and throw him into a volcano.

He was making her worry. He should never make her worry, especially over something so silly—

He opened his mouth but hesitated. He didn't want to say no.

“Not—Not now.”

His honesty tamed her like she could feel it as easily as a temperature change. “It’s not something hurting you, right?”

Yes.

“No.”

Katara frowned with her eyes.

Then, she stood.

(Spirits, Aang loved his moonrise.)

“Take my hand.”

Aang’s heart took a trip to the tiny star just to the right of the moon.

She looked at him, and he felt hot cinders flake from his face and into his twisting belly. It sparked a fire so hot that it turned his sea of chi into an ocean of molten ore.

He was suddenly empty of something and filled to the brim with something else.

Katara’s hand was an invitation without equal, and the instinct to grab hold and never let go was a god’s hand trying to push him forward. 

He almost did.

But then his right thumb paused on his left palm, and white lightning struck him down.

Katara flinched like she felt it.

Aang curled into a knot like he could still hide it. 

Kneeling, Katara unraveled him without touching him. Her eyes found his and held him in place not like in a trap but like in a hug. Too soon his right thumb was hushed away from his left palm and his estranged hand was held close to her face. 

Aang couldn’t remember hearing her words, but he felt what she was saying.

Her sorrow nearly tore him apart.

Luckily, her smile kept his shredded heart together. 

And the kiss to his white lightning and the three points of his hand’s arrow put air back into his lungs. He dove into the cool-blue look she gave him and drowned himself in all that she was. 

He was filled with clouds so puffy that they threatened to let loose their rain, but his eyes became only wet and never misty. He smiled beyond the limits of what anatomy allowed when her face turn as red as his felt.

She said something that put his pieces back together, and she looked at him with something that gave him the strength. Cherry-red metal poured from a kiln and wept up her neck and into her cheeks.

Katara rolled her eyes to something that wasn’t there, disappeared inside, and returned with a mass of blankets.

“What are all the blankets for?”

“Moon ‘n stuff,” Katara said as she finished her nest of comforters and fortified quilt walls. 

Then she offered her hand again—she slipped it loosely into his own and waited for him to hold her first. 

“Sit with me.”

Aang shouldn’t have been as giddy as he was, and Katara pursed her smile like she was struggling not to enjoy his happiness too much when she tugged him up from the ground and laid with him against cushioned concrete. 

Moon ‘n Stuff was laughing and pointing out funny bits in constellations of their own designs. It was gossiping all the good rumors and their hopes about which of them might be true.

Katara crowned him King of their Chateau of Comforters with the softest blanket she had. It was blue and smelled like mornings when he could sleep in and like the small joys of finding warm things in cold places.

Katara accepted his invitation into his Blanket Castle within their Comforter Chateau. The blanket was plenty big for both of them and tied them together in a fuzzy cocoon.

She relaxed against him like she was sinking into warm water. The air that left her was fast at first like she just saw something she dearly missed. Every exhale after that was slow and satisfied—drunk on the indescribable and bewitched by the unimaginable. Aang felt her every movement so clearly that he wasn’t sure whether to give thanks or repent for the precious moment she was creating with him.

But then she shifted like she couldn’t get comfortable enough.

And she dragged an eye open to glare at any critter’s sound breaking their peace.

That was when Aang understood.

That was also when Aang lost it.

The urge to laugh was so overwhelming that it didn’t process into the bodily function, instead filling him from toe to brim with small giggles and soft feelings.

Katara didn’t want to share.

Of course, she didn’t.

Their moments were their moments, and he was hers and hers alone.

Master Katara was a being without equal, but Aang knew that which even she didn’t know.

Don’t worry about them. It’s just you and me right now.

Aang’s confidence limped back to him and convinced his estranged left hand to sidle towards hers. He touched the back of it with two fingers—an almost mute invitation, an almost silent knock on the door.

Katara laced her fingers with his like it was the most natural thing in the world. She handled it not like it was something wounded but like it was something precious, and she kissed all of his knuckles before cooling his white lightning with the gentle touches of her snowy-soft palm.

The hands were the most sacred part of a bender. They were the outlets from which their soul leaked. They were the culmination of all of their senses to interact with the world.

Aang’s world shyly smiled and fiddled with her hair. She shifted like she couldn’t decide on which spot against him or which way to hold him would bring them as close as she wanted. 

She wouldn’t even look at him for fear of changing color and state of matter from beautiful young woman to gorgeous little puddle.

She blushed like something beautiful coming into bloom.

Then, she said something.

Her words bypassed all feeling and branded themselves onto his heart

“...want to be my boyfriend? O-Only if you want to...because I want to, so...um...”

She inhaled on the word like she was telling good news and hoping for the universe to talk back to her.

Aang’s current incarnation threatened to be kicked out from under him and reborn into the Water Tribes.

His head nodded like it was trying to make a break for it.

Katara laughed like it was the only language she knew.

They shared each others’ smiles in a shy kiss that felt like a brushing of souls—like the gentle zap of lightning between earth and sky that brought beauty and shook all that they knew but brought with it no scars or destruction.

She squeezed his hand.

He kissed her again just because he could.

White lightning and snowy-soft touches connected what made them each other.

Aang wilted like soggy grass, full of that which gave him life and drunk on all that she gave him.

His hand didn’t hurt anymore. His heart was starting to ache, though. It was going to burst if he looked at her for much longer.

His night got darker when Katara closed her eyes, but he welcomed the weakness his rising full moon gave him.

She fell asleep against his side, and even when Aang no longer felt his arm, he didn’t dare move.

The balcony was empty except for them, and his heart was full of only her.

Katara mumbled once, shifted twice, and adjusted her grip to hug the whole of his arm.

She was hardly doing anything, but her doing nothing did everything to him.

Aang’s courage found him just as Katara found her new favorite spot.

He kissed her cheek, but, if he was being honest, he didn’t remember feeling the kiss.

“...I love you.”

He only remembered how her smile felt.

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I hope you enjoyed, Anon! I know this isn’t Katara doing “nothing”, per se, but this is what my mush-brain put down when I sat and wrote😅  (I did, however, tuck that little ”doing nothing” idea away for different ficlet👀)

[fizzingwizard]

So............ Episode 39 is a fever dream xD I think the writers were high. It’s probably better enjoyed while high as well, if you’re not eight years old. Bahahaha.

But HEY they really went for it. They were like, this is the concept, we are not backing down, YOU’RE GONNA LIKE IT OR ELSE. Man. Ballsy.

I can’t say whether this episode was Good or Not Good - I think it’s more in the liminal zone of “you wish you could forget but never can” memedome. Lol

It’s a Jou ep and we can say, for sure, that the episode certainly embodies Jou’s potential *cackles*

Note: Episode 40 won’t air until 3/21.

Pic of the Day is Taichi because, as usual, I capped him too much.

Taichi: Pretty sure we all just ate hallucinogenic mushrooms by accident but just gonna smile through it

More below!

First Tailmon lectures the kids on the importance of taking a break to rest. Basically, Tailmon is me. Hey, writers, are you reading my blog? Lol.

They pull up to what turns out to be a Digimon burger restaurant. The fact that Palmon didn’t know what burgers until they went to the simulated human world is dealt with pretty much by saying she just doesn’t get around much lol.

They find many Digimon enjoying burgers made by the Digimon after my heart, Burgermon.

The Squirtle Squad is there too.

Taichi also is me.

Sora comments on how this place reminds her of a place from home, to which Mimi responds that she’s never been there as she usually travels by plane ??????????????????????

I know she’s rich but does she take a plane to the grocery store xD

The kids st down to enjoy some burgers, all except for Yamato, Koushirou, and Hikari, who didn’t listen to Tailmon’s lecture and are still working. Even Tailmon doesn’t take her own advice.

Jou suddenly notices something strange. He stands, glasses shining.

Jou: Why is no one eating the fries!

Taichi: I’m eating them.

Jou: i dON’T MEAN YOU!!!!!

His blood pressure skyrockets. Fries are the main reason to go to a burger joint. Why is no one eating the fries??

Taichi: Like I said, I’m eating them.

Jou: NOT EVERYTHING’S ABOUT YOU!

Meanwhile, Yamato’s group realizes Komondomon is very dirty when he accidentally creates a small sandstorm out of his fur. They meet another Komondomon who is sparkly and bishie and find out there’s a car wash service by Lunamon nearby, so they take Komondomon to get washed.

HEY WRITERS, YOU’RE READING MY BLOG RIGHT??? I asked for this before. Bahahaha. BATHE KOMONDOMON 2021

Lunamon also tries to bathe Gabumon, but he’s not interested.

Gabumon: I don’t need a bath!

Yamato: Uh, are you sure?

Jou’s indignation over the not eating of the fries turns out to be because, sometimes after cram school he sneaks off to a burger restaurant and eats fries and just has a moment for himself before he goes home. His special time with fries keeps him sane in a cold, cruel world.

Then this abomination appears. Potemon. He both is a potato and loves eating potatoes. Uh. That’s. That’s kinda wack

Jou instantly clicks with Potemon due to their mutual love for potatoes. I thought we’d get an explanation like “no one here eats fries because we save them all for Potemon” or something, but it seems like... Potemon is really the only one who likes them... idk man this episode makes no sense

Then Burgermon makes a sad announcement... They’re going to discontinue the fries!

Burgermon: Selling fries is a net loss for us because no one eats them.

Taichi: But you don’t sell anything, it’s all free.

Burgermon: Yes but if we DID sell them it WOULD be a net loss because no one eats them

Then Hikari’s like “quit being so lazy!” and the others are like “you literally told us it’s important to rest” and Hikari’s group is like “KOMONDOMON NEEDS A BATH ALL PLAY AND NO WORK MAKES JACK A DULL BOY” and Taichi’s like “but my name is not Jack”

Gomamon tries to help Jou cheer up by reminding him of his image as a leader. Tailmon is surprised... but accepts her new leader lmao.

I mean, how could you not admire his authoritative figure?

There’s a running joke from this point about the word suberu (滑る) which means both to slip like in the tub and to flunk an exam. So, for Jou, it’s the equivalent of a curse word lol. Mimi is the number one offender, the little witch bahaha.

Potemon has gone to cry over not being able to be a cannibal anymore, until he is consumed by potato rage. His eyes glow red and he evolves to...

... Jagamon, another potato Digimon, but larger. He is a Perfect level WHAT. Does that mean Potemon was Adult level??? Or he was so upset he just jumped two levels in single go without any extra help from Millenniumon?? i think this guy might be the real Big Bad y’all

Jagamon throws potato bombs around and stuff starts to get wrecked.

Taichi: This seems like an overreaction!

Agumon: To be honest I get it. I’d probably act the same if I couldn’t have my favorite food anymore.

Taichi: But your favorite food is every food.

Burgermon and Lunamon bravely rush out to stop Jagamon, but then, when rescued by Taichi, instantly agree to turn tail and run bahaha.

Not to be outdone, Yamato rushes in to save this little guy, Pusurimon, who looks up at his hero with eyes full of wonder.

Taichi then asks Yamato to lead the evacuation which pretty much means “stop stealing my fans”

Meanwhile Birdramon... helps???... Blimpmon...

I didn’t even know there was a Blimpmon...

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised...

....

Jou realizes that Jagamon is Potemon and begs the others to help him save the little potato head.

Taichi notices that Lunamon’s bubbles are peculiarly strong for bubbles and stop the potato bombs from exploding. I mean, he and everyone else figures it out just by using their eyes. Jou then instantly takes over and starts giving orders like he’s a got a shrewd plan.

Jou: I have a plan!

Mimi: What is it?

Jou: Use the bubbles to stop the potato bombs from exploding!

Mimi: Funny, that was my plan too!

Jou... What a coincidence!

Tailmon receives Captain Jou’s orders and promptly evolves to Angewomon. She shoots her arrow into Zudomon’s hammer and tells Jou to infuse it with his strong feelings.

(A quick not funny aside - now we know Angewomon can do this. It makes perfect sense for both her abilities in 99 Adventure and the abilities we’ve seen from the holy Digimon thus far this season. Bit of a strange way to have it confirmed but xD)

Jou does just that, infusing Zudomon’s hammer with his passion for fries and the deep connection he felt with Potemon as potetomo “potato friends.” Then he freaking picks it up, leaps into the sky which has suddenly become dark and stormy even though it was blue five seconds ago, and slams it into Jagamon’s skull.

Jou: I AM THOR, SON OF ODIN, AND THIS IS MJOLNIR! YOU WILL RESPECT THE HAMMER!

Mimi: I THINK THIS MIGHT BE OVERKILL!

But it works. A swift blow to the head and Jagamon is back to his normal potato-loving self. We all just accept this.

They now have a surplus of potatoes, thanks to Jagamon’s power to spontaneously generate them. Never mind that they also EXPLODE. Apparently that does not affect how delicious they are to eat.

I figured at some point someone would say the reason the fries were being discontinued was due to lack of potatoes, and the arrival of Jagamon would solve all their problems. But if they ever did say anything that, I missed it. Was a bit odd.

The end!

So, YEAH, bonkers episode. But Jou is the hero we all want to be in our hearts. And everyone loves fries. Which makes this the most relatable episode yet lol.

Did I like it? No, not really. But I think that’s because I am not eight years old xD I do appreciate the Jou-related humor though. Def can’t say this episode was boring! And, among other things, nearly everyone got to talk do stuff - only Koushirou and Takeru didn’t have much of a role this time. And the joke with Tailmon accepting Jou as her leader was pretty funny and cute and I hope it sticks. And I really did love the way Jou relied on Mimi at the end - it was just silly, not meaningful in any way, but it was funny and my Joumi heart enjoyed it :P

Next episode, again, won’t air till 3/21, and it looks to be a Sora episode. (Last week I surmised that ep 40 would kick off the next big arc, but I had totally forgotten Sora hasn’t had “her episode” yet. Sorry Sora ;_;)

The preview looks light-hearted, though perhaps not quite as silly as this week.

First they will go to Jurassic Park!

Where Sora and Taichi will impress the dino bird kingdom with their soccer prowess!

And Mimi will continue to relax.

Jou: What happened to all play and no work makes Jack a dull boy?

Mimi: Um, excuse me, I’m a GIRL.

Koushirou: You all know you’re using that phrase the wrong way, right?

[watchinghannibal]

Season 1 Episode 1

I said I would go back and start at the beginning, and here I am! After I wrote the first post, it was clear that this a live blog experience, meaning I think this is best consumed while watching or right after watching the Hannibal episode. Therefore, I’ll be putting in some timestamps so that people know where I am in the episode without me having to stop the flow of my commentary. I am watching on Netflix. Here we go!

My very first impression of this show, knowing nothing but that it was a crime show with a cannibal involved, was that I was about to get the displeasurable BBC Sherlock experience. There’s a popular video on YouTube that intricately explains what I mean (https://youtu.be/LkoGBOs5ecM), but the short version is that we have a detective who can magically solve crimes that the viewer could NEVER solve on their own. You see Will, looking at a crime scene, and rewinding it in his head - something that I admit could possibly be done with the visual evidence laid before him. But then...

2:04 “This is my design”. Will has not only visualized the crime but he now knows the “psychology” of the killer, simply by looking at the scene. There are certainly ways to deduce the generic mindset of a killer from a crime scene - a person stabbed 100 times is most likely a crime of passion - but to know that the killer wanted the man to watch his paralyzed wife bleed to death is just not possible. 

But this is a work of fiction, and I’m willing to put reality aside to believe that Will can do this. The story he creates in the first scene has logic, it’s not unreasonable. What comes next is what really appalled me and drove me to write this blog.

4:46 Big, mean FBIman comes in and asks where Will falls “on the spectrum”. Rude, to start. Will then describes a spectrum that goes from Asperger’s to narcissist/sociopath and declares himself autistic because he doesn’t like being social. However, in the next sentence, he says he has empathy and imagination. Okay, so now I know what I’m dealing with - a Psychodynamic BBC Sherlock, based on psuedopsychology and wikipedia-level psychyoanalyses. The writers, five minutes into the show, have displayed a massive misunderstanding of Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD), sociopathy, and personality psychology.

But that’s okay - psychopathology is an advanced and technical field. It makes sense that this American crime TV show doesn’t get it all right. I won’t forgive the mistakes they make because honestly I see this show as offensive to people with ASD, but again I’m watching fiction so I’m willing to continue watching and give my opinions about the psychology that comes up. 

11:32 Will finds the girl impaled by antlers in her own home. He chokes her in his little replay and this is when I started to become uncomfortable about how this show treats violence towards women. In the first scene, Will replayed the crime. This time, he just pounced and choked her. That’s not what happened to this girl - she was killed, impaled, and then placed back in her bed. So why did we see Will choking her?

14:05 Very good doggo scene. There are many good doggos in this scene. Good job to all involved.

15:28 I thought to myself, ooh is this gonna be a scary show? I’m into that. I think if this shows goes more towards horror, I’m more willing to allow all 

USE THE LADIES ROOM

to allow or at least tolerate the women choking shit. Quick note about sociopaths: sociopathy is a personality disorder in which the person is unable feel some or any emotions. They sometimes act in ways that harm others because they are unable to understand how their actions make others feel and further unable to empathize about others who are harmed. Not all sociopaths are bad people or do bad things. Some actively try to understand others and fit into society.

21:34 Will magically discovers the killer eats his victims and we are shown our first view of Hannibal eating a beautiful meal of dubious origins. I liked the imagery and contrast there. The gory forensic morgue, the mortifying realization of cannibalism, and then boom - a delicate and indulgent show of pleasure.

I actually really like Hanny and maybe it’s just ‘cause of Mads, but I’m sure I’ll figure out why I like him soon enough.

FIBman barges into Hanny’s perplexing and massive office. May I also note I hate FBIman. He has bad energy - he seems like the kind of person to call a psychologist a tree hugger.

26:18 Hanny analyzes Will in public. Again, so very rude. And might I add, against the code of therapists, the Goldwater Rule, to not make public psychological assumptions about people who did not ask for help.

28:26 Again I am questioning why I’m seeing a full naked woman impaled. I’m not against gore, but I guess since I’ve watched ahead a bit I just kinda know this pattern continues and it irks me. I promise I’m trying to turn off my angry scientist brain.

He loves women he LOVES them that’s why he eats them!! Love.

I can’t imagine lungs tasting good Hannibal. Or maybe he’s just a good cook. Damn the little smile Hanny gives to that tomato. Thank you Mads.

More SPOOKY visions, this time a feathery deer. Why does it have feathers? I guess that’s scarier? No, that... can’t be it. Is it because the call the killer a shrike? That might be it.

32:03 Are you reconstructing his fantasies? Oh Hanny please give me a full Freudian report on the shrike please. Oh he’s just gonna toy with Will, darn.

36:52 This made me want to keep watching the show. I mean I assumed Hannibal the Cannibal was a bad guy but this was a cool way to solidify the viewer’s suspicions. THEY KNOW!!!!!!!!!

Now Will rewinds a crime scene he was actually involved in. Hanny acts so chill he’s like, huh, would ya look at that? I also appreciate that Will legit looks like someone witnessing a horrible crime and panicking. Sometimes in crime or horror shows, the detective is like, yeah he ripped her insides out, just another Tuesday.

Big Bad FBIman is so fucking mad and Dr. Mom is like fuck you, you hurt my BOY! Those 2 really suck you guys. Will is not a child, Dr. Mom, and he did NOT ask for your help. Hanny has the balls to be holding this girl’s hand.

Okay guys, sorry this post was a bit less funny, but I wanted to articulate why this show is not good to me and why I feel like I can make fun of it without taking it seriously. I want this blog to be a chance to laugh and maybe learn a bit about real psychology. Thanks!

[cha-lyn]

Milk & Eggs - Eleven

Farmer!Bucky x Reader

Words: 1607ish

Summary: Small Town /Farmer Bucky AU // Reader leaves the city to go live with her grandma. She meets an attractive farmer and, no, they don’t hit it off.

Warnings: teeny bit of angst, fluff, hair pulling, sad bucky

A/N:  THANK YOU GUYS for being so patient.  I had some serious writers block with this chapter & the next one. I am plotting the end but there should be at least a few more chapters. Happy Saturday!

Masterlist // Previous Chapter  // Next Chapter

- - - 

“Why isn’t this meringue getting to peaks?” You were in your third batch of apparently cursed French meringue.  “Grams come look at this!” 

You checked the clock for the upteenth time within the last 20 minutes. You had to deliver this cake in two hours and you needed to shower and change before you did so you could go straight to Bucky’s after. But you couldn’t deliver it without the damn meringue. 

“Just be patient, hun.” 

You growled, but did as she said. Finally you could see the stiff peaks! “Yess!”  The next thirty minutes you spent piping and roasting it for the client’s desired look.“Grams, I’m gonna go take a quick shower and then leave for the delivery and then I’m going straight to Bucky’s.”

“Tell him is said hello,” she waved you off. You didn’t miss her small smirk, but you didn’t have time to defend yourself.

You showered, fixed your hair, changed and made it back down stairs by 4:21. You didn’t even think to grab your phone. You got the cake into your car and triple checked that it was secure. You made it to the client’s venue right at 5. 

That’s where the trouble hit. 

The client wasn’t there yet. You dig through your purse looking for your phone and then remember that it was sitting on your nightstand, all the way back at home. You checked the car clock. 5:15. Where was this lady? If she was much later, you wouldn’t even make it to Bucky’s by 6.  You tapped your fingers on the dash impatiently. 

Finally, she shows up. 5:28. 

Apparently, her hair appointment ran late. She apologized profusely and tipped you generously for her lateness. You left the venue at 5:47 and sped down the highway. It should take you 30 minutes to get back to town and another 15 or so to get to Bucky’s, depending on if you get stuck behind any cows or tractors. 

You pulled into his driveway at 6:28 You didn’t bother refreshing your makeup in the mirror, feeling terrible you were so late. You took his front steps two at a time, knocking probably a little more loudly than you needed to. 

In seconds, the door swung open to a very handsome man with a very deep frown on his face. 

“Hey,” you smile, hoping it would diffuse his frown. 

It did not.

“I’m late. I am so sorry.”

“Hmph. I was about to call in the calvary. I’ve called you like 20 times, Y/n.” He crosses his arms. 

“I left in a rush, forgot my phone. Then the client was 45 minutes late. I’m so sorry.” Your stomach chose that moment to growl. Loudly. 

“I was worried. I thought you forgot again.” He moved aside to let you in. “Let me warm your plate up. I ate without you. ” He set the plate in the microwave and turned to face you, not looking you in the eye. 

He thought you forgot--oh the guilt--you could hit yourself. “Well I’m glad you didn’t wait on me…” you leaned awkwardly against the door frame. He remained silent as you looked around. 

The table was set. A candle on the table, between two wine glasses. Bucky wore his dress jeans and a nice unwrinkled button up, his hair was combed, pulled back into a little bun behind his head and oh my god-this was a date, you realize. You suddenly feel sick to your stomach. 

About the time you realize all of this the microwave beeps and Bucky sets your food on the table, motioning for you to sit down as he does. He’s grilled the steak to perfection, made the skinny green beans you like with a side of mashed potatoes that you know for a fact are homemade. 

“You thirsty?” He still hasn’t made eye contact with you. You nod and he gets you a glass of water. 

You eat the food in silence. Bucky twirling a steak knife between his fingers, not looking up at you. The air was thick with tension. 

“This is really good Bucky,” you say even though you can’t taste it much because you hate yourself. 

“Thanks,” he says emotionlessly. 

“I-I’m so sorry. I feel so bad.” You push your empty plate away. “ Thank you for everything. I know I’ve totally ruined the evening, it was really all so nice… I’ll just go…” You stand up and push your chair in reaching for your plate.

He sighed deeply, before pushing himself up. “Wait. No. No. Don’t go Y/N. I’ll stop guilt tripping you, it’s not your fault your client was late. It’s just, I--I was looking forward to tonight.” His cheeks got a little pink as he finally looked at your eyes. “In my mind it all went a lot differently.”

“Yeah. Same.” You took your plate to the sink. You grabbed the scrubby thing and turned on the water.

“You don't need to do that.” 

You ignored him. “Oh, please Bucky. Let me wash a dish to make up for all this. I’m sorry--”

“Stop apologizing, Y/n.” He pulled out a clean towel to dry the dish off with. “I’m over it. I promise. Shit happens, I get it. It’d be silly to stay mad at you for something out of your control.” He put the dish in the cabinet and turned to face you, finally. “You look nice tonight, slick.”

A full blush flushed your face. “Thanks. You look quite handsome, Buck,” you reached up to smooth his collar. 

“Thank you,” He smiled at you for the first time that evening. “Bad news though. I have to change out of this handsome outfit and go milk the cows now.” 

“Boo,” you protest. “Can I watch?” 

“Watch me change or watch me milk the cows?”

Your eyes got wide, “I-I- just meant…

“Either one is a yes.” He winked as he tossed the towel onto the counter.

You scoffed and smacked his arm as he smirked, and went up to his room to change. You stayed downstairs, mind kind of racing because he’d all but invited you up there.

He came back down in his work jeans, boots and a t-shirt, hoodie draped over his arm. His smirk snuck back when he saw you in standing in the same place.

“Wanna come help me?” You nod and he tosses you the hoodie. “Here, I don’t want your shirt to get messed up.”

You thanked him, slipping it on and following him to the barn. 

-

With your lateness forgotten, the rest of the evening was fun and educational, even. Bucky showed you how the milking machines worked and laughed at you when you insisited on petting every single cow. After that, you helped him feed the horses.

“I’ve got a name for this horse, Buck,” you say as you pet the nameless horse.

“What is it?” he asks not looking up from what he was doing.

“Vega.”

“Vegas?” He turned his head to eye you, confused. 

“No! Vega,” You laugh at him. “It’s one of the stars you pointed out to me the other night. Part of that… Summer square constellation thing.”

It was Bucky’s turn to laugh, roaring even as he moved a bale of hay into Cap’s stall. “I think it’s the summer triangle, doll. I can’t really remember though, I looked up all that stuff the day of to try and impress you, but we barely looked at the sky at all.”

You blushed. “Well, it worked. I’m impressed.” Very impressed actually, you think as you watched his biceps flex as he moved. 

Bucky grinned as he slid the stall door closed. “That stuff impressed you?” 

You nodded, “Indeed. So does the tossing around of hay bales and the horseback riding.”

He stepped towards you. “Then, maybe you should come over more often, I do both of those things every single day.” His hand cupped your cheek softly. “I, for one, would really like it if you came over more. If you want to, ya know.”

You grinned. “Well, maybe I do.” 

Bucky grinned, too, as he leaned in to kiss you. You returned it, hands immediately finding the biceps you’d been staring at minutes before. Slowly, the two of you backed up against the stall door, consumed in your kiss. His hands were rough to the touch, but gentle, as they slipped under your shirt. 

Never done it in a barn, you think. You start to reach for the bottom of his shirt when he pulls your hair. You don’t think anything of it, you actually liked it. But then he did it again, harder. Your head knocks in to the stall door. 

You break the kiss. “Ouch, Buck. You can pull my hair, but not that hard, shit.”

Bucky looks down at you confused, “What are you talking about--” then he looks at something behind you and bursts out in laughter. “I didn’t pull your hair, Cap did.”

You turn to face the kinky horse. “At least buy me dinner first, Cap, jeez.” You shake your head at him. 

Bucky licked his lips, still a little red from kissing you. “Does making you dinner count?”

“Count for what?” you ask confused. He reached up and pulled your hair, much more gently than Cap had. You blush returned. “Only if I can pull yours.” 

Bucky growled a little before pulling you into a quick kiss. When he breaks it, you pout. He chuckles, “Sorry, slick. Gotta finish tending to my babies.” You sigh and perch yourself on a bale of hay to watch him finish the chores.

- - - 

Taglist: 

@notatallfriendly 

@thechaoticargonaut    

@booktease21 

@iamwarrenspeace 

@titty-teetee 

@harryngtonewithyourshit

@thefridgeismybestie 

[stillwinterair]

Pretty sure this thing is rife with typos and inconsistencies because I spent way too long writing this and Refuse to proofread, but, some notes from the writers’ room (my brain) on my Personal Mental Sequel Trilogy Rewrite:

On paper, I think the Kylo/Snoke situation as it occurs is really compelling. Killing Snoke midway through the trilogy was a stupid move in the context of the trilogy we got, but could have very easily been made to work well with a few changes... many of which in The Force Awakens.

(This is gonna mostly be focused on Kylo Ren, but in this version of the story he’s far from the focus, it’s just kinda what I would want to see from a villain)

The ultimate goal in my own personal version of the trilogy would have been to make the late-second-act twist (this trilogy’s “I am your father” moment) be Kylo Ren becoming Supreme Leader, and cementing himself as the big bad. But to do that effectively... we have to make Kylo Ren more sympathetic. We have to trick the audience into thinking he’ll come around. As it stands... the movies don’t actually do this. A certain subset of fans certainly think they did, but there’s really no buildup to “Bendemption” aside from a single scene where he’s hesitant to kill his mom, I guess. Other than that, he’s all evil, all the time.

He should still do all the same things: slaughter a village of innocents, torture multiple people, stand idly by as his fascist regime destroys the seat of galactic government. But give him moments of pause before they happen, and feed into the “pull to the Light” with whispered voices calling through the Force, begging him to stop. Every time, he almost listens... but he pushes them away. And every time he pushes them away, something in him changes. He stands taller, grips his blade tighter, and his power with the Force grows a little stronger.

Now, another crucial building block to the twist: move Kylo’s “doesn’t wanna shoot Leia” scene up a movie... and give it to Han.

The scene plays out as we see it in TFA: Han Solo pleads with his son to come home (I would have had them find Luke by this point for the sake of a trio reunion but that’s an entirely different thread to follow). Kylo Ren -- or, perhaps, Ben Solo? -- grips the silent hilt of his lightsaber, visibly unsure. Is he going to submit to his father? Does he plan to kill him?

We don’t find out. Not in this movie, anyway.

A blast rings out. A bolt hits Han in the chest, his eyes glaze over, his fingers drift from his son’s cheek, first slowly, then altogether. He tumbles aside, falling to his death. The camera pans: someone, perhaps Phasma or Hux, is looking down the smoking barrel of their rifle. They salute, then quickly take cover as the distraught and agonized trio of Rey, Finn, and Chewbacca begin firing on them.

Rage fills Kylo Ren’s eyes. He tenses. His lips twist into a twitching grimace. It seems entirely focused on Phasma/Hux. Bands of white-hot electricity trace the lengths of his fingers.

And then it all subsides.

He turns on his heel and pursues our trio, and the film proceeds as we’ve seen it, except again, Luke is also there. I’ll figure out that puzzle piece later.

EPISODE VIII:

Snoke should be heavily involved here, very clearly the puppet master pulling Kylo’s strings. Kylo is clearly haunted, though: those whispers we heard throughout the last movie are growing louder. Who are they? Jedi of the past? The souls of the dead? Anakin Skywalker himself, his spirit shattering itself into a million little pieces trying to push past the jagged barrier of Dark-side energy Kylo Ren surrounds himself with?

But Kylo needs to be less composed in this movie than he is in TLJ. No standing around calmly or stoically, he’s constantly on edge, looking over his shoulder, feeling judged by everyone and dreading it. Kylo Ren is tortured and haunted and it feels like at any moment, the facade will break. Clearly, the source of all his problems are because he isn’t being who he’s supposed to be, right? Clearly he could turn around at any moment and become someone better, right? Right?

Rey ends up before Snoke and Kylo Ren again, because she thinks Ben Solo can be saved, because the narrative is at least putting some work into making us think he can (“he’s haunted by the choices he’s been making, why wouldn’t he turn back to the Light?”). Snoke plays them against each other, yadda yadda yadda, but it perhaps becomes apparent that Snoke has an ulterior motive:

He doesn’t want Kylo Ren anymore. He wants Rey.

He toys with them, makes them duel to the death, but there’s a lot at play here: Snoke wants the strongest to survive, to shape them into a more worthwhile apprentice. Rey fights defensively, refusing to give up on Ben. Kylo is as aggressive as we’ve ever seen him, more conflicted than ever, raging against the voices in his head. Turn away from her, and strike him down, they say. Join the girl, rebuild the Jedi. Come back to Luke. Come back to your mother. The voices are familiar: Jedi from the past, friends who have died along the way. And then a final voice rings out, more ghostly than the rest: Come home, son, says Han Solo, an echo of his soul which has left a stain on the Force surrounding his son.

He knows what he has to do.

The electric currents we saw in our previous episode return, stronger now. The ground around him is charred, ash-black. Years of so-called “Gray Jedi” in Legends jump back to mind: are we actually going to see a Light-sider using Force lightning? you might wonder. All of his energy goes into a singular blast, aimed at Rey...

But it arcs past her, decimates Snoke’s guards. The Supreme Leader stands, shocked and enraged. He challenges Kylo: “You dare slaughter your own allies? You, boy, are nothing but a worm! But it matters not. I never needed you, anyway. The girl will take your place, and you’ll die as they did.”

Snoke attacks, but his mastery of the Force is nothing compared to what comes next: a torrent of lightning from the fingers of Kylo Ren.

The blast knocks Rey back, flings Anakin’s lightsaber from her hands. But when she stands, there’s a smile on her face. She did it. She won. The evil in Ben Solo has been vanquished, the Light has prevailed, and the First Order is finally defeated.

She asks him to come back with her, back to Luke, to Leia, to the Jedi. He can start again, help rebuild, save the galaxy.

He turns back to face her, and his eyes are bloodshot and yellow. He’s seething. He extends a hand, and an offer: join him, let the past die, create something new. Feel the power of the Dark side. There’s nothing like it. There never has been, and never will be.

This is the true Kylo Ren. The first steps of his manipulation were led by Snoke, but it was the taste of power that led him the rest of the way. It seduced him. Consumed him.

We cut back to the lightsaber of Anakin Skywalker, lying on the ground far away. We see Ren and Rey far in the background, standing opposed, but they’re out of focus. The lightsaber is all we can truly see. It begins to shiver, as if being called by someone. Presumably Rey. We cut back.

Rey refuses his offer, refuses the power, tempting as it may be.

“No? Then you’ll die as he did. As all your weak friends will.”

Another torrent of lightning bursts forth from Kylo Ren. But Rey makes no moves to defend or attack: she’s utterly in shock, confounded by this turn of events.

When the lightsaber ignites, it isn’t Rey who’s holding it. It’s Finn. Lightning crashes into it, holding it back, long enough for Rey to regain control, Force-push Kylo, and for the two of them to run.

Rey and Kylo’s Force bond from TLJ is maintained, as is the ending shot of Rey closing the door of the Falcon in Kylo’s face... but with it comes a darkness. The bond is severed. The door has been closed forever.

The twist of the Original Trilogy’s second act was that the villain was of our hero’s blood; in the end, it saved him.

The twist of our Sequel Trilogy’s second act is that the tortured soul we thought might have been a hero, never was one and never could be. You ~subvert expectations~ but in a way that builds the mythos and actually pays off a plot thread. Looking back at all of Kylo’s moments of tortured almost-goodness, the realization hits that he always had a chance and never took it, that the whispering voices which followed him, his pull to the Light, were an annoyance that pushed him the other way.

Anakin, Luke, and Ben were easily corrupted by the Dark. The difference is, Anakin was manipulated, Luke had the force of will to be a hero anyway, and Ben reveled in the Darkness. These are the Palpatine genes resurfacing.

And then in our Episode IX, we wouldn’t [re]introduce a new (well, old, but new to this trilogy) villain in the LAST ACT, but would instead build the story and mythos of one villain throughout the trilogy, off the puppet master when his role is done, and let him flourish as the evil bastard he always should have been. And then the Force-ghost of Anakin Skywalker can show up and basically confirm that he hasn’t been around because he’s been trying for decades to reach his grandson, that it consumed all of his power, etc.

Anyway. This is a lot but we could have had a really compelling villain here but they didn’t do fucking ANYTHING with him

[anorakofavalon]

The Beauty and the Geek: Why Brutasha Makes Sense

(AKA: An Open Letter of [Constructive] Criticism for Joss Whedon)

I wrote an essay in which I parse through my feelings on probably the most controversial pairing of the MCU. I settled on the relationship making sense, thematically, even though the execution was terrible. Sorry if it's a little long, but I'd love to have a discussion about this with any of you willing to take the time to read it.

---

Joss Whedon is great at his job. He’s flawed, like anyone else, but he’s a fantastic writer. I hardly need to remind you of his portfolio, after all. As a matter of fact, his portfolio is so very nearly spotless that his writing flaws come across, at least notably, in only one movie. Avengers: Age of Ultron. You might point out Justice League, but I’m discounting it because while there were flaws there, they weren’t all his, and not all of them were present in unison.

In Ultron, Whedon was pushed to his writerly limits. Understandable, considering that he was burdened with not only following up on the masterpiece that was The Avengers, but he had to do so while taking into account the events of the movies that took place between then and Ultron and where that left the characters. Not only that, he also had to setup the rest of the franchise and introduce a multitude of new characters. Doing any one of those three things is difficult, but doing all of them at the same time while also offering a coherent and enjoyable movie to fans is a monumental task. He did what he could.

One particular weakness of the movie, as pointed out by a large number of people after its release, was the relationship between Bruce Banner and Natasha Romanoff. Recently, people have warmed up to and adapted to it. But the damage is done. It left the impression on just about everyone that it was rushed and clumsily handled. I agree that it was clumsily handled, but I don’t think that it was necessarily rushed.

I’d like to make an argument for the relationship, and in doing so, maybe offer a critique to Mr. Whedon that might be helpful. My argument is the following: Bruce and Natasha’s relationship in the Marvel Cinematic Universe is thematically sound. It’s a natural step forward in both of their respective arcs, and I believe that Mr. Whedon made an excellent, and conscious, storytelling decision when creating the pairing. (He might even have had it in mind since The Avengers.)

But before I go any further on analyzing why I believe this, I think it’s important to dispel a few common and relatively superficial complaints about the couple. Firstly, some people prefer Natasha to have been with Clint, Steve, or even Bucky. I understand the general sentiment there, but I have contentions against any of these people because they don’t make sense in the context of the MCU. Clint is out of the picture because he has a family, and they are simply best friends, practically siblings to each other. Bucky and Natasha have very little screen time together in which they aren’t fighting by the time Age of Ultron happens. Steve is the most sensical of these options. But Steve and Natasha aren’t compatible people, at least not in the sense of a romantic relationship. Why? Because A.) She explicitly prefers more passive, “dorky” men, B.) Steve is still not over Peggy Carter, C.) Putting them together would be, aside from blindingly obvious, harmful to their wonderful friendship because D.) Steve and Natasha have, up to Ultron, had a very strictly professional relationship. They’re friends.

The other big complaint is simply that Bruce Banner seems to be too old for her. This is a, frankly, ridiculous complaint. Mark Ruffalo is one hot dude, and Black Widow is a fully grown woman perfectly capable of having emotions for whoever she damn well pleases. Somewhat older or not.

And speaking of those emotions, people have been quick to point out that they seemingly developed out of nowhere. I disagree, to a certain degree. The seeds of this have been rooted from the very beginning of The Avengers. Their first interaction was tense and interesting. Subtle things were present. Hints of flirtation (granted, at the time she was trying to manipulate and recruit him into helping SHIELD) were present, and there’s a few visual cues. Particularly when Banner says “I don’t always get what I want” while touching a crib. I recommend re-watching it.

And of course, there’s the entirety of Ultron, where they throw quick glances, outright flirt, and seem to have developed a close relationship via “the lullaby”. But the leap from Avengers to Ultron is quite wide, considering that a few things have happened, and besides, wasn’t she deathly afraid of the Hulk during Avengers? The answer to that is yes. And that’s why it was so jarring for practically everyone, including those of us who have embraced the ‘ship. Presumably, all of their bonding happened during Natasha’s stay in Avengers Tower between Winter Soldier and Ultron. The problem? We didn’t see that. We just saw that she could calm down the Hulk all of a sudden and had a good relationship with Banner.

I won’t defend the execution of this. It could have been smoother, without a doubt, but given the duress that Whedon was under with managing the storylines of literally every other character, I can forgive him. But what I can’t forgive him for is the execution of a few other things concerning the two. Namely, how he handled their conversation in the Barton household and the Ultron kidnapping.

The Barton Household conversation could have been positively wonderful. It was a little off-putting instead. I don’t think it’s a bad conversation mind you, it shows that Black Widow is willing to open up to Bruce Banner in a way she doesn’t usually do with others, and it really serves to humanize her further. The premise is this: Bruce Banner isn’t willing to be with her because he believes that he’s a monster and that he can’t give her a normal life (read: children). Natasha counters with the fact that in her view, she’s a monster because the Red Room made her one. And she can’t have children. The issue is clear: these are two separate, parallel, lines of conversation happening at once, and they get muddled, and viewers got confused accordingly. The way the dialogue was framed had disastrous consequences. Rather than achieving its goal the scene left us with the impression that she thought she was a monster because she couldn’t have children when really what she meant was that she was a monster because the Red Room dehumanized her and turned her into a weapon, and in the process, sterilized her.

While awkward, a lot of people later understood what was meant and the outrage died down. But it didn’t help that later in the movie, Widow was used as a literal damsel in distress when she was captured by Ultron for very little reason. Now, I’m a firm believer that strong female characters should be allowed to have love interests. Love isn’t a weakness. But this moment makes Black Widow seem like merely a love interest. She was helpless and a man had to rescue her. And it was, you guessed it, her love interest. This whole concept was a mistake. It could have been any other Avenger. Because if there’s one thing Black Widow is not -- it’s helpless. (And as a side note, that scene at the Avengers party where he fell on her chest? Ridiculous. Whedon pulled the same trick in Justice League and it was equally un-funny. It harmed his cause more than it helped. Comedy could have made the transition into the relationship less jarring for fans but he approached it in the single worst way possible. Also, the ass shots. What the hell Whedon? Like, I get it, but c'mon man. If you're gonna do it, at least be egalitarian and give us some Hulk booty too. Taika did it.)

All of these things combined gave people a less than spectacular impression of the couple at first, since it consumed both of their respective storylines for the entire movie, but I warmed up to it and so did others. Because despite the execution, I think it makes perfect sense thematically.

It begins in The Avengers. We’re going to briefly revisit the scene I mentioned earlier, where Natasha is recruiting Bruce. At this point we know a few things about them: Banner is relatively in control of the Hulk, but he doesn’t want to “Hulk out”, He is not afraid of Natasha, and finally, Natasha is very much afraid of him. At first she acts unfazed, but when he slams his hand on the table to test her there is genuine fear in her eyes and she pulls a gun faster than he can blink. He smiles away the tension, assuring her he was just testing her. But the power dynamic became clear. At first, Natasha believed she could manipulate him like she did Tony, but with Banner that wasn’t the case. He saw right through her. This remains a constant theme. He could read her like a book.

She’s weary of Bruce for the rest of the film, but it culminates when she faces the Hulk. Mr. Whedon lets the camera linger on her after her near death experience. Natasha Romanoff is shaken. This was incredibly humanizing for her because the Hulk is a force that she is truly powerless to do anything about, which must be an unfamiliar feeling for the world’s greatest assassin. Regardless, when Fury calls her to take down Barton, she walks it off. That encounter grew her character. A character that has remained fairly mysterious thus far except for one single moment, a truly wonderful scene where she manipulates the ultimate deceiver: Loki.

Loki thinks he’s got a read on her, likely because she was being very honest when she told Loki “I’ve got red on my ledger, and I’d like to have it clean.” Loki already knows, playing on her apparently emotional side by saying “Your ledger is dripping red, it’s gushing and you think saving a man no more virtuous than yourself will change anything?”

It’s all a trick, of course, because she pretends to let it affect her. But Black Widow knows how to compartmentalize emotions, and she handled the situation wonderfully. But I don’t doubt that what Loki said was true -- to a degree. That is Black Widow’s chief insecurity: that she is a monster, and she can never be a hero like the other Avengers because of her past.

A few scenes later, after the Hulk Out, Banner wakes up in a warehouse, where an old man is looking over him. The very first thing that he asked was “Did I hurt anyone?”. And that there is his chief insecurity: that he is a monster because he is a danger to everyone around him.

So you have two characters who both have terrible pasts that were forced on them by circumstances entirely out of their control. Both admire each other professionally as well as people. Let’s not forget that Natasha’s first interaction with Banner was of him living in an impoverished country in order to help people. Both are looking to become better than who they are, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Natasha was affected by this. Hulk has caused just as much harm as she has, but Banner is making up for it by healing others. She might feel she can’t do that because her skillset has always been to harm others. That’s why I think she’s one of the most compassionate of the Avengers, and always comforting her friends. Be it Steve at Peggy’s funeral, or Clint in Endgame when she’s the only family he has left. It makes total sense that Bruce and Natasha would turn to each other as friends and confidants. I don’t think anyone else in the group could understand their shared and unique type of trauma. And as Natasha said, “all [her] friends are fighters”. But Bruce is not. In her eyes, he’s a perfectly normal, mild-mannered gentleman. She’s not afraid of him or Hulk by the time Age of Ultron rolls around, but boy is he afraid of himself.

And they both want normality. So they propose running away. A bit on the dramatic side, but I can see why Whedon chose to use this idea. It makes the ending of the film more poignant, when she chooses to have Banner Hulk Out (and I suspect Banner understands why), thus sacrificing their fantasy of normality. Because they’re Avengers. The mission comes first. Still, it was far too melodramatic for my taste and out of character for both of them. Particularly Natasha. And again, it makes it seem like Natasha was Banner's love interest when it really ought to be the other way around, from a storytelling perspective and also because of the nature of the characters. That was a lapse in judgement from Whedon that weakened the presentation of their potential relationship.

I don’t think the relationship will remain completely intact by the time Endgame finishes, but I do think they’ll acknowledge it and give them a proper send off. It might not last, but their relationship helped them grow as characters. It allowed Banner to realize that he isn’t really a monster. That he is useful in his own right. And it helped Natasha get peace of mind. She isn’t a monster either, she’s a hero. And for better or worse, that means she has to do heroic things. Even sacrificing normalcy.

And plus, it's just adorable man.

[inversionimpulse]

there’s a difference between ‘internal consistency’, ‘canon’, and ‘faithfulness.’

Internal consistency is necessary to the suspension of diselief. Your story needs to be consistent with itself to be believable, and a story that isn’t believably is hollow. ‘Believable’ doesnt mean it has to mimic reality exactly, it means it has to portray its own reality effectively.

Internal consistency is incredibly important and not really up for debate. You can bend it or break it when it’s necessary to make the story more effective, but you shouldn’t do that too much lest the audience stop believing.

(everything below this point might be a bit of a hot take, I actually dunno. Also, this is just me trying to work out some recent thoughts by putting them on a page, I might change my mind next week, who knows. Hell, I’m not even sure I agree with all of it now. Also I’m gonna slap it under a readmore because I have anxiety)

Canon is something that’s very silly to get too caught up in. While I don’t encourage some of the more extreme uses of Death of The Author I’ve seen, the fact remains that personal experiences and interpretations are extremely valuable. Every story means something a little different to each person who reads it. The author’s intent is, of course, still very important, and knowing what it was can enhance the experience. But the thing that matters most to the reader is the reader’s own engagement. Canon is not your god - treating stories like mathematical problems with only one proper solution is what high school English teachers do, not what you should be doing.

And then, when ‘canon’ extends past the creator, what does it even mean?

I think I should illustrate with an example. The Killing Joke by Alan Moore, one of the most famous Batman stories ever written. The ending is a common subject of debate. Did Batman kill the Joker? The ending is open-ended. I don’t know what Alan Moore intended, and I don’t care to look it up - and I don’t think he’s ever said, anyway. I don’t think Batman killed Joker, other people (such as Grant Morrison, one of my favourite comic book writers) think he did - both these interpretations are completely valid, even though they create radically different stories - one where the Joker’s nihilistic view isn’t entirely wrong, and one where, as Gordon says, they “show him our way works!”. These two endings are completely different and they change the meaning and themes of the story, but saying that only one is valid is rather wildly missing the point. What’s important is the story that you read (it’s still possible to be wrong, though. You’re still working within the constraints of the written word - if your interpretation goes completely against the text, it’s still wrong).

Now, ‘canon’ agrees with me. The comics continued on, and Joker kept breathing. But why is this ‘canon’? Why is this a more valid an interpretation than that of people who think Joker died? These continuations, they weren’t written by the same person as Killing Joke, they were appended on to it by other people. Why is their writing a more valid continuation of Moore’s work than, say, a fanfic? Because executives at DC said so? What gives their approval so much weight? They didn’t create Batman, Bill Finger did. These corporate suits don’t have anything to do with Batman outside a court of law. What makes Moore’s work more valid than a fanfic, even? Bill Finger created Batman, not Moore, and Finger was too dead to give his approval to Moore’s work, and again, the corporate suits who say what goes and what doesn’t never had anything to do with Batman’s creation.

So what i’m getting at here, is this: why are these things ‘canon’? Even though Batman comics kept rolling and Joker kept breathing, why is that more ‘canon’ than Joker’s death? Why is The Killing Joke more canon than a fanfic? Because Copyright law says so? First of all, that copyright would have expired long ago if not for a certain mouse’s all-consuming greed. Second of all, that’s all just words - the only person to have a moral right to authority over Batman is Bill Finger, and he’s gone.

So if we look at this, what is ‘canon’? By the strictest definition, the only canon Batman work is Finger’s and everything else is invalid. But I think a more appropriate answer would be that ‘canon’ is something entirely up to the reader’s interpretation. The stories you like are part of your canon, and the ones that you don’t, aren’t. Because it’s more important that a reader has a good, meaningful experience than that you can slot everything into some strict timeline. It’s modern mythology, not in the hands of any corporation, but in the hands of anyone who can tell a story. Every Batman story is technically valid, whether DC published it or not.

And my use of the word ‘technically’ just then brings me to my third point, what ‘faithfulness’ is. Even if every Batman story is technically valid, that doesn’t make it good and it doesn’t mean people have to like it. The character of Batman is malleable, having been passed through as many hands as he has, but there’s still a core to it. if your Batman story has him as, I dunno, how about, a Yakuza dude who kills people with a bat-shaped knife, why is that a Batman story? You really think people are going to see Batman in that? A Batman story at the end of the day should still be a Batman story and people who love Batman should still be able to see the character they love in it. And if they don’t see that, they have every right to hate it.

The example I’m going to use here is MCU Spider-Man, who I’ll try to be as neutral as possible because otherwise I’m just going to piss everyone off. For a lot of older Spider-Man fans, Spider-Man is a working class schmuck who claws his way to greatness entirely under his own ability, who is a hero because he knows it’s the right thing to do, even though he’s so often tempted to use his powers for selfish short term gain. And a lot of them don’t see that in MCU Spider-Man - what they see is someone whose suit was made for them by Iron Man, they see someone who rarely faces real consequences, they see someone who cares more about being a hero than doing the right thing. These people have every right to hate MCU Spidey; if they can’t see the character they loved in this new character, they have no obligation to love the new one just because of a shared name. I’m not making any judgments on MCU Spidey himself, I’m just laying out some opinions people have about him. And if you do see the Spidey you fell in love with in MCU Spidey, you have every right to argue the point with those people.

(Confusing canon and faithfulness is silly, too. Just because, I dunno, Ra’s Al Ghul isn’t actually immortal and doesn’t have supernatural powers in some adaptation doesn’t mean it’s not a faithful adaptation of Ra’s Al Ghul if you can still tell immediately it’s Ra’s Al Ghul, if you still see the parts of Ra’s Al Ghul that really matter. Canon is the little nitty-gritty details that don’t matter as much as some people think if the whole is still faithful - more than the sum of your parts, right? Maybe a character doesn’t quite look the same, maybe they don’t quite have the same backstory - but if it’s still recognizably that character, if it’s still faithful to the spirit, I think it’s usually still good. When arguing about faithfulness, you’ve gotta learn to pick out the details that really matter and not worry about the ones that don’t)

So when making a story using a pre-existing character, you really ought to be as faithful as you can - not to some nebulous idea of ‘canon’ but to what you interpret to be the spirit of the character. Because at the end of the day, if you’re making a Batman story, it’s for Batman fans, isn’t it? If you’re making a Spider-Man story, it’s for Spider-Man fans, isn’t it? And it’s for the people who would be Spider-Man fans if they had been exposed to it - which hopefully your story will do. What’s the point of radically changing Batman to appeal to people who don’t like Batman instead of people who do or who would? If they even bother to bite the bait you’re dangling for them, which doesn’t happen often... what then? Now you have people who expect something that isn’t really Batman and you’ve lost the people who like things that are Batman. You’ve got Johnny-Come-Latelies who are after something very different from what other Batman stories offer who will leave when they realize that and you’ve lost the loyal, established fans. This sort of thing can work out and be mega-profitable, but not often.

And leaving aside all talk of profit and fans... if you’re writing a Batman story, shouldn’t you be trying to write a good Batman story? Not something entirely else you’ve put the name Batman on? Snyder.

Basically what I’m trying to say is this: If the original author has left the figurative building (and only if. While the original author still has a hand in things, their word is pretty much law), then everything appended to it by anyone is equally valid, no matter if the law says so or not. But that doesn’t mean it’s good or that people have to like it equally. Also copyright law is bullshit and Disney should not be allowed to fuck it up any further.

Oh, and I should add that a bad story doesn’t erase the good stories. If a video game you like is remade and the remake is bad... well, the original game is still there, isn’t it? And even if the remake is good, the original might just offer something different that’s still worth experiencing. Nothing can negate the original work’s quality. So if, say, I think the most recent Spider-Man film is bad, then, well, no skin off my neck - as much as I’d like new good Spidey films, the old good ones are still there and so are the comics they’re based on.

[hail-langdvn]

Work on an Off Day

Summary: Duncan’s been a bit too busy for (y/n). REQUESTED (:

Warnings: smut, fem!reader, language, daddy!kink, maybe a bit of dirty talk (i say maybe bc im horrible at dirty talk LMAO), probably more but im bad at warnings im sorry

Word Count: 1.9k

(hi, ugh its me. ive been mia and had the meanest writers block but im back for like the 50th time! i havent watched house of cards a day in my life but i assumed after all the hc & research ive done that this’ll be enough lmao)

He was in his office all day. Not that (Y/N) was complaining, at least he decided to stay home today. But when (Y/N) had pestered him to stay home, she envisioned his physical being with her, not being cooped up taking every single call in between whatever else Duncan did on a day to day basis. She didn't really ever ask what he really did, but she had a overall generality of it.

At first they planned to just stay in and watch whatever she wanted to watch—a lazy day because she never had those with him often. But then when Duncan got the first call, that idea got thrown in the trash. He whisked away into his office and never came out.

(Y/N)'s a reasonable girl! Moderately. Today was supposed to be their day and when something meddles with that, she was no longer reasonable.

When Pretty Woman wasn't making her smile to herself anymore and her thoughts consumed her, she decided to go a bit on a whim. (Y/N) pushed herself up from the couch and made her way to the office upstairs, where her boyfriend stayed.

Slipping in unnoticeably was easy, he was vigorously typing on his MacBook and talking to God-knows-who.

“No, that's not what I asked for.” He stated, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Give me a second.” Duncan puts the phone on mute for a second before turning to face his girlfriend. “Sorry, baby, I have to take care of a few things. Give me thirty minutes.”

Thirty minutes went by and he was still taking care of “a few things.” (Y/N) couldn't take anymore neglection; if she knew today would be like this, then he should've just gone to work.

The second time she entered the office she made it clear she wasn't taking anymore of this. When Duncan heard the knock on the door, he expected to see her in his oversized t-shirt she stole, the gray sweats she always wore at home, her hair in a loose ponytail, and her glasses threatening to fall further away from her face. However, (Y/N) wasn't there to be a pitiful girlfriend pouting for his attention. If she was going to get his attention, it was going to be drastic.

“Hold for a minute.” He hadn't noticed her, yet, which definitely annoyed her. But that didn't discourage her. “Baby- fuck.”

She sat on the black leather couch from across the room innocently as if she didn't waltz in there with his favorite lingerie set. “Are you done, yet?” She needily whined, slightly parting her legs not breaking eye contact.

“I'm in the middle of an important phone call.” He explained, gripping his pen as she started sucking on her two fingers. When her fingers were coaxed in her saliva, (Y/N) slid aside the panties she wore and rubbed her clit.

“So, you don't want to play with me, daddy?” She asked with a frown, giving him a clear view of her pussy. “That's why you stayed home today.”

“Five minutes.” He abruptly said, holding up his five fingers. She huffed, shrugging at him kicking it up a notch. Her index finger and thumb slightly pinched her nipple allowing a whimper to escape, growing wetter by the second. When she knew she was wet enough to slide a finger in, she wasted no time. Pumping her finger in and out, she grasped Duncan's attention more when an ungodly moan left her.

“Three minutes, daddy.” She taunted, glancing over at the clock on the wall to the right of her. Slipping the second finger in made her feel a little more full, yet it didn't feel as good as when he'd slip a second finger in. Nevertheless, she didn't stop herself.

“Look, I'll call later, I have some other business to take care of.” Duncan quickly hangs up and focuses all his attention to her. “Such a dirty slut, while I was taking a call?” He queried, walking over to her. “Shouldn’t have answered in the first place.” She sassed, sucking on her fingers. Her every move taunted him. “Supposed to be our day, remember?”

He instantly feels bad for his girlfriend, remembering the real reason why he was in his home office. Duncan wasn't even supposed to be working today. “I'm sorry.” He mumbled, approaching her on the couch. “How 'bout I make it up to you by playing with your pretty little cunt?”

Her legs feel like jello hearing his voice and tone change. (Y/N) melts under Duncan's touch when she feels his hands grip her thighs as he crouched down to become leveled with her pussy. “Didn't I ask a question?” He sternly asked, glancing up at her.

“Please, daddy, touch me.” She whimpered, feeling his breath against her.

“Doesn't sound like you want me to even touch you.” He teased, pretending to get up.

“No, no! Please, daddy. It's been two weeks! I need you so bad, please.” She moaned, trying to get him to at least slide a finger in or something. “I've been a good girl for you waiting all day, please, please, please—“ and she continued to splurge more nonsense rambling to prove how much she wanted him to touch her. Duncan didn't move a muscle or change expression, he derived off her begging alone.

When she noticed his small smirk, her mouth clamped shut. She thought she earned it, but when Duncan stood up, tears grazed her eyes. “Where are you going?” (Y/N) asked, watching him turn away from her and walking over to his desk.

“I spoil you too much.” He plainly said. Her eyebrows furrowed while her eyes glossed more by the second. “You beg like that all the time, and I give it to you. I just think you're not wanting it, you just say that you do.”

The games he played were painful, especially when she was severely turned on. (Y/N) was practically halfway to her orgasm before he approached her moments ago! He didn't want to cut her any slack?

Her sweet face contorted into a sadder version of his baby doll. “I-I was being a good girl! I tried to convince you as much as I could.” She sadly pouted, standing in front of his desk. “Please, daddy. I won't take it for granted, I promise!” Her final plea made Duncan give in. Who wouldn't?

He slid his rolling chair back allowing her to sit atop his desk with her legs wide. “Gorgeous.” He muttered before sliding his finger in her sopping pussy. (Y/N) suppressed any moans, not getting any permission to moan, yet.

Duncan couldn't hold back anymore, he attached his mouth to her clit. Laying his tongue flat, he licked upward, gathering all the juices in her mouth. His eyes never left her, yet (Y/N) clamped her eyes shut, being a bit intense for her.

“Look at me, baby.” He mutters on her clit. She forces her eyes to open and look at Duncan. “So sweet on my fucking tongue, almost forgot how good you taste.” He praised pumping his fingers in and out attempting to get her to cum faster.

“Oh god.” She exclaimed, unable to suppress anymore moans. “Please fuck me already, Daddy.” She whines, setting him off a bit. Duncan forgot how easily she could get overheated and assertive when he doesn’t let her moan.

He stops, sliding his fingers out and standing up straight. Instead of an angry expression or one of those “don’t-be-ungrateful” looks he’d normally give her, Duncan gave her a cheeky smirk licking his fingers clean. “You sure you want that now, darling?”

His ominous tone could send anyone running for the hills, but (Y/N)? She would consume it and ask for more. Maybe that’s one of the reasons he loves her so much. “Of course, Daddy. That’s why I asked.” She returns with an even more crazier tone matched with a grin, leaning into his personal space.

Duncan was already hard from when she strutted in his office and started pleasing herself. If she hadn’t been so assertive any sooner, he would’ve ripped his clothes off himself. But (Y/N) took care of that.

“So hot, Daddy.” She innocently grinned, taking her place back on the desk.

“Look at you,” He ushers gripping his cock, spreading her legs apart. “Wanting me to fuck you over my paperwork.” He teasingly rubbed his tip up and down her clit, earning a frustrated groan from his girlfriend. “What’s that, baby? Forgot that I control when you can have my cock?”

The tension of all of this wouldn’t let her form a coherent sentence. It was on the tip of her tongue like a single word forgotten. “Daddy,” she managed to get out, “Please don’t tease.” It was weak, but enough to make Duncan bury his cock deep in her. In less than a second his thrusts came in and came in rough. Her mouth gapes open and her eyes slam shut from the instantaneous burning in her stomach. Duncan’s hand gripped her thighs and his hips slammed into hers. She needed this for the past two weeks.

Her moans became louder by the second and she could’ve swore that after the first minute she could’ve cum. But she asked for this, so why in the world would she let in so easily?

“Squeezing around me so tight,” He spoke aloud, “must feel so good, huh, baby?” She could only respond with a moan in the state he had her.

“I-I’m gonna—“

“Not so fast.” He said, slowing down his pace to a painstakingly slow (yet, rough) thrust in and out. “I don’t fuck you for two weeks and you need to cum so soon?”

She let out another frustrated moan. “You just wanna tease me, you don’t want me to cum, Daddy.” Duncan smirks at her, his slow thrusts brought his a little closer to his own orgasm. When she was finally into the slow pace, he decided to tease her further switching the pace (for his own purposes, as well) and bringing the two of them to their climaxes. “Go ahead, cum around my cock.”

Her walls tightened around him and in an instant her cum dripped down his cock. Duncan slips out of her, jerking himself off, finishing himself off before shooting all over (Y/N)’s chest. She grins at him, swiping a bit of it on her finger before sucking it clean.

After showering and cleaning themselves up, Duncan finds himself in the bathroom staring at his beautiful girlfriend. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” She asks, genuinely curious, halting her face washing.

“I’ve been so busy with work,” he glides behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, “and it was supposed to be our day today. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, silly.” She laughed, bending over washing the rest of her face wash off with water. “I wasn’t mad, just frustrated.”

“Maybe I can stay home tomorrow, too. Make it up to you.” He suggests while she dries her face.

(Y/N) turns to face her boyfriend and shakes her head. “As great as that sounds, you wouldn’t be able to keep that promise. Just make it up to me when you get home.” And boy did he do that.

[hootpoop12]

Theory time

Alright, so we all know through the context of this being written in a fanfiction/a03 format that this is all a play about canon VS fanon. What is a little hard to decipher is what are the things that are plays off fanon and which qualities are the true aspects of the characters(canon)? ANYWAY here are just a few of the things I am ASSUMING are plays off fanon based on my years in the fandom and sheer obsession of consuming this shit (trigger warning for everything taken place in the epilogue FYI):

-Dave: I think some of the main aspects of fanon influencing his epilogue version is intertwined with “woobifying”, “Slow burn”, and even possibly even “sexuality”. 

        -Woobifying is a fandom concept of reducing a character to “a cinnamon roll too pure for this world” someone you wanna baby (often applied to trans guy characters whether canon or headcanoned). This one is a bit of reach I’ll admit because it DOES makes sense that after years of living with Karkat the dude would soften up but there were times in the epilogue even Dave admits he’s gotten softer and the dude just plain out was very passive. In my time I’ve seen tons of depictions of Dave as a lot more emotional than shown in the comic or a lot more woobified in fics (like in meteor fics where he often has very dramatic emotional outbursts) By the way this is NOT me shitting on you if you like viewing Dave in that way because a lot people with trauma relate to him and use him for “cathartic release”(me fucking too lol). It’s more a guess/observation of maybe why he’s developed in this way due to the comic now being a strange sponge absorbing all fanon, good and bad, into it weird ass grasp.

        -Slow burn is likely the trope that plays into why the hell it took so fucking long for him AND Karkat to admit their feelings. If you have literally ever consumed Davekat content I’m sorry but 99% of it is slow burn lmao every meteor fic is pining, every coffee shop AU is the budding of a lifelong partnership, and every Harry potter furry inflation pwp crossover WHATEVER fic is 10k words building of sexual tension like......To bring their other relationships in canon into this we can see that Dave was able to flirt with Jade and Terezi and entered a relationship with them at a pretty normal rate WHICH can totally be attributed to the fact he views them as girls and himself as heterosexual so was much more comfortable making a move- sure. Looking at Karkat, however, and you see the dude is a little shy about romance sure but he was still able to flirt with Terezi and make awkward moves on John so like......I can’t help but to feel like something outside (us?) was influencing them?

        -Sexuality is another sort of reach but I think it’s something to consider. In terms of the comic....when exactly DID canon end? You could argue at the end of act 7.......or the moment John used his retcon powers to create a new timeline. Fandom Dave (on the tumblr side at least) was usually consider queer and a lot people shipped Dave with another dude. Perhaps John going back and rewriting canon helped bring our influence over Dave’s sexuality into the comic? I remember finding out Davekat was canon and confirming my “Dave is bisexual” headcanon and just thinking in wonder how it felt like Hussie was plucking my desires straight from my head and incorporating them. Which made me HAPPY by the way. If this is anywhere even near truth it’s not like he didn’t do a fantastical and natural job of incorporating it into the comic which shows how “incorporated fanon” is not a totally horrendous thing. The comics always done it with fandom memes and such. 

-Rose Lalonde. Not too sure what fanon influenes were brought onto her to be honest? In candy she was almost like a creepy stepford wife which is. Bizarre to me. Rose is the most contrary and rebellious character so seeing her settle down like that (OR FUCKING DOING SOME GUYS LAUNDRY) is a little strange. In meat she insists that she is an individual despite being married but that could have EASILY been Dirk’s influence? Also her biggest fandom stereotypes off the top of my head is Know-it-all smug meddler, alcoholic, and elegant. Really none of that was applied so still need to consider her more. The most damning thing however is where is all the piss?? If you look at the amount of piss kink rose fanfiction one has to wonder......and I can’t even continue this joke.

-Jade Harley: Gonna keep it real with ya’ll. I feel like this epilogue gave Jade Harley way more character. She wasn’t given much in canon except for lonely silly girl so it makes sense to me why she’d grow up desperate for physical bonds and inserting herself into relationships. I liked her telling John that she wasn’t some princess in a tower anymore cause it shows she KNOWS how everyone has always viewed her and that’s a little sad. As for tropes around her character.....yep people pleaser, silly girl, hippie, shoved aside for literally any other character......Need to think about her more, too. 

-Jake fucking English. What even is there to say? He more than anyone was influenced by fanon and it doesn’t take too much thought to see how. In a lot of fandom jokes and in fanfiction he is basically treated as a stupid piece of meat. I genuinely don’t read much fanfiction about him except from a trust few fans who I know care about him and will write him in a full rounded way. In any case we see a single moment in which Jake has this oppressive narrative taken away from him and it was when he was talking to Dave and Karkat during their election conversation. If that wasn’t already hard enough to read we can look back at the implied rape that took place with him in the beginning of Jane’s relationship with him or over the course of it. John, the one person supposedly not influenced by fanon as he’s still tied to the comic via retcon powers, is even the one to tell people that Jake is basically being raped. So yeah. Good times. I’ll get to Dirk in terms of Jake in a moment L M A O. Imagine that being the saddest lmao you ever just read.

-Jane Crocker: Welp hope you weren't a Jane fan lmao. What can I say except it FEELS like all the subliminal messaging really got to her and she’s like......warped by the condesce? I think if in the comic they showed more of her political takes then maybe this wouldn’t have come as such a shock. Like, I flat out am disgusted by her character now? She’s a facist, abusive, rapist(that was hint, unfortunately)? WOW good take homestuck writting staff?? I mean I know one of you used to write like incest pedo rape porn but aight??????????? Anyways in fanon Jane is treated as the girl who gets in the way of dirkjake so kinda that early 2000s bitchy yaoi girl brand, boring person in the background, or the hottie. They obviously kept saying she was “easy on the eyes” so there’s the hottie trope but that’s about it.

-Roxy Lalonde: Out of ALL the Alphas they fucking escaped with their goddamn dignity PFFT. So in terms of tropes: trans Roxy, alcoholic, and flirty “boy obsessed”. 

        -So with trans Roxy this is like Dave’s sexuality thing I discussed where a widely celebrated headcanon influenced canon and that not necessarily a BAD thing. Like I said, this theory is that canon is just absorbing fanon for better and for worse. I saw people were bummed they weren’t a trans girl but I am actually down with this for two reasons. 1) being all those memes “what’s your gender?” “the void” and 2) a part being friends with someone who’s trans is.....not being used to seeing them as the gender they actually are but taking the time to learn these new unfamiliar pronouns- and get the fuck over it. It’s their choice and you just gotta accept it despite your feelings. 

        -alcoholic Roxy was not at all incorporated which is the biggest fanon about her (not as much in recent years thankfully) so honestly? Kinda diminishes my argument. It’s not like the writers were worried that tossing out their progress as person was bad writing lol look at Dirk.

        -Flirty Rox. In candy they were SUPER fast moving in their relationship with John and despite towards the end they said that Dirk dying made them wanna do something with their life I just....don’t buy it? Mainly because john who is uninfluenced by the fanon tropes even noticed how fast they were moving and how stepford agreeable wife she’d become. 

-Dirk Strider. Aight. So. Here we go. fandom tropes are controlling puppet master, abusive, and cold/uncaring.

        -Dirk is a naturally controlling man, yes. Every version of himself struggles with this, yes. Even if we work on issues does not mean old flaws will never leak out, yes. However, after in the comic itself we see conversations with some of his closest companions and the effort he was making and ready to continue making was completely obliterated. Dirk is someone who takes his projects a little too seriously so why would he toss out this one- the most important one in his life? ANYWAY........Dirk in canon is shown that he’s also not great at multi-tasking or really anything that he really makes himself out to be AMAZING at. Don’t get me wrong I actually view Dirk as a complement dude cause he did get all the alphas into the session in a smoothish fashion (yes hal is him so it still counts) but, like, even when Dirk sounds like an AWESOME engineer to Jake he even admits that he basically had the future’s technology to help and it wasn’t that impressive. So now he’s claiming he’s the BEST? Wack.

        -Abusive Dirk......The sheer amount of people in the fandom who still misconstrue his character as heartless and the sheer amount of fanfiction of sociopathic Dirk might’ve done something. If he is truly becoming his “ultimate self” and he is heart aspect.....all these fanfiction splinters are getting applied to him as well, ya’ll. INCLUDING one of the epilogues writers who literally used to write fanfiction depicting Dirk as a brutally abusive and manipulative version of himself. With the similarities between their big fic and the homestuck epilogue I can’t help but to wonder if they’re subtly trying to incorporate that? After all Alt Calliope goes into detail about how the writer/narrator is IMPORTANT and when one is someone who enjoys viewing dirk as such....well who’s to say pfft Everything about how Dirk treated Jake was some of the most shocking to me. How did you get the guy taking most of the blame for a relationship gone wrong to a man who in a very rapey way makes someone obsessed with him, stupid, and unable to ever receive respect? Horrifying stuff to read, lads. It makes much more sense to me if you look at this fandom’s perceptions on DirkJake. My god there are some bad takes and there’s a whole section of the fandom who was hellbent on making the ship out to be the most problematic ship to ever occur. So whereas in the comic you have Dave pointing out that both sides had issues and everyone was willing to talk things out you had half the fandom insist that it was all Dirk’s fault and he just COMPLETLY forced himself on an unwanting Jake. Yep, sound familiar?

        -cold uncaring. yep tons of depictions of Dirk being cruel to his friends and family and sorry but go reread Homestuck I don’t even know what to tell you if you actually believe that. There’s literally nothing here I could write to help you. As if the whole thing about his character isn’t about how the people around him helped prevent him becoming like that and he hasn’t said in a dozen different ways how much he loves them and wants to treat them better. Get out of here with that shit lmao 

I guess all can be said about Dirk at this point is either 1) the absorption of the vast amount of terrible Dirk depictions from ascending to his ult self has warped him 2) he’s playing a villain just because Homestuck being over means not existing which TERRIFIES him and existing is a higher priority than treating the people around him right or 3) caliborn influence

        1) For the ascending I’m pretty sure this is the theory that’s gonna be right

        2) playing the villain is probably not what it is because on twitter all of the writers are saying the transphobia is literally just him and they’re boosting a lot of theories say “this is a story about friends you love disappointing you and you moving on” So. Yeah. Take that depressing nugget of information. (I literally will be fucking dead inside if that really is where this story is taken. No joke I will probably quit this fandom lol don’t know if any of you really know how big that is for me to say

        3) Caliborn? eh maybe who the fuck knows after typing that last bullet point out I’m too bummed to continue this hah

[potteresque-ire]

8 and 15 for the fanfic ask, pls!

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕 Magpie! 

8) Where do you take your inspiration from?

Oh dear, inspiration… from my low output I’m probably really bad at it 😊 .  I can tell you what gets me excited about writing though. I like weird, cracky prompts because my brain is this really contrary thing that loves saying But but but but but… and nothing makes it happier than trying to make what seems to be far-fetched work. These prompts are not easy to come by though; fest prompts have been increasingly specific about the genre, the events to be incorporated and the ending, and I don’t feel right twisting them unless I know the prompter very well. In their place, then, I ask myself strange questions — such as, really specific questions about any prompt I see and its tropes, while taking the reverse approach: make something that works into something far-fetched. Kitchen Thieves started with a simple question: in the sentient home trope, why is a home sentient in the first place? These questions carve out spaces in restrictive premises and allow my twisted brain to uncoil and tumble and play in them for a while, free of pressure.  

Hmm, an example is like this. Let’s say, the prompt is “Harry goes on one knee to propose to Draco” — which is fairly generic and limited. But what if… which knee matters, according to wizarding customs? And Harry goes on the wrong one? Because his knee is super knobbly (hurrah to canon-compliance)? WHAT DOES THAT UNDERGROUND MAP ON DUMBLEDORE’S KNEE MEAN AND WHAT IF IT HAS TO BE EXHUMED TO BE EXAMINED  IN THE LOVE ROOM IN THE DEPARTMENT OF MYSTERIES??

So, um, you see… no one’s ever gonna want to read this thing, and I can’t possibly submit something like this for a fest prompt. I won’t write this up, but it takes me only a few minutes to imagine it and now I’m amused and more relaxed. My brain feels like it’s got some fresh air and a little stretch. It’ll take me more imagination time to return this far-fetched, non-sensical thingie back into something that works again but I’m happy to do it, perhaps in my shower time. It’s set my writing brain into motion. This may not be inspiration, per se, but it opens my brain up to be inspired, especially after it’s been caged into a writing schedule, a set task (writing and otherwise) or a storyline for too long.

(I really treasure silence for this reason: it gives me time to question everything. Media consumption and other recommended methods of inspiration work for me too, but only if I have quiet hours afterwards to digest what I’ve consumed…putting little pieces of them into a cracky prompt is one of my ways of doing so 😊).

(And now you know the dumpster fire burning in my brain every day 😛 )

15) If you write OC’s, how do you decide on their names?

Hmm. I had to think a bit about how I’ve decided 😊 ! I think it comes to this: I like a name to reflect not so much who the person is, but the expectations that’ve been placed on them. And… the less effective the name is at matching the actual person, the better, because it can serve as a subtle show-not-tell of the psychological burdens of the character. I wrote an OC in Evolution called Aiden who, like Draco, came from the upper class and had fallen for darkness (his was an addiction to crystal meth), so I looked for a name that was more traditional and represented something associated with light.

When the namer is the picture, I’d like the name to reflect something about them too. Kate and Brad were named by Harry in The Kitchen Thieves. I find these names to be Harry-ish aside—no frills, direct in their reference (K for Kitchen, B for bedroom), I also chose contracted names to provide the sense that Harry wanted to call them often and casually, like family. Draco has also named a few characters in my stories (The Chickens in The Kitchen Thieves, Miss M in Hugs and Kisses, for the mannequin in St Mungo’s etc), and while I tend to give Draco a more flowery language I also like to write him naming things in a direct, no frills way, but with a dismissive word choice. Like the characters weren’t worth his—and more importantly, the world’s—consideration. Psychologically, the names he offered made the OCs feel smaller, which is what, I imagine, Draco was brought up to do—to diminish everything around him in every way he could just so he could stand out from the get-go. I’d like to think of this quirk of his as an extension of canon, in which Draco called the Room of Requirement “The Room of Hidden Things”. “Requirement” put the namer / user of the name in a needy position, while “Hidden Things” carried no such connotation, and “Things” felt like a verbal wave-of-hand. While I wasn’t sure who named the house elves, I imagined it was families like the Malfoys who insisted on given them childish names or names that lacked imagination (near nonsensical, ending with —ys; or like Kreacher).

Of course, this name-choosing thing is really subtle and I don’t expect any readers to pick it up, but since we already have Wolf McWolf in our universe I feel that we don’t need more of that. 😁 And I don’t think I’ve offered anything new for you, have I? In Young and Beautiful when Harry suggested the name Bob… it’s basically this idea in action. Bob is a name with a simple, good life, and I felt that in my bones, this equally simple, good expectation Harry was offering to his Stranger * wibbles * …

(Fanfiction Writer Asks)