#and also gets screwed over by the narrative many many times

[turtlespancake]

me when i write a character who is prone to dooming themself and then they run off and doom themself. core traits are stubbornness and a willingness to disregard their own humanity gET BACK HERE IM NOT DONE WITH YOU

[vogelmeister]

anyways i am feeling kinda brave today so im gonna share a potentially unpopular taylor swift hot take. when i was talking to my friend yesterday about ttpd i realised that i kinda have a similar problem with the anthology as i do with evermore.

like don't get me wrong, both have absolute gems (willow, tolerate it, long story short, gold rush and NBNC from evermore are great and i love the albatross, so high school, the prophecy black dog, manuscript etc) but i think both collections (bc anthology is not an album) suffer because they came out connected to a much superior more cohesive work, and both almost feel like rejects from the body of work that proceeded it.

[physalian]

How to Make Your Writing Less Stiff Part 3

Crazy how one impulsive post has quickly outshined every other post I have made on this blog. Anyway here’s more to consider. Once again, I am recirculating tried-and-true writing advice that shouldn’t have to compromise your author voice and isn’t always applicable when the narrative demands otherwise.

Part 1

Part 2

1. Eliminating to-be verbs (passive voice)

Am/is/are/was/were are another type of filler that doesn’t add anything to your sentences.

There were fireworks in the sky tonight. /// Fireworks glittered in the sky tonight.

My cat was chirping at the lights on the ceiling. /// My cat chirped at the lights on the ceiling.

She was standing /// She stood

He was running /// He ran

Also applicable in present tense, of which I’ve been stuck writing lately.

There are two fish-net goals on either end of the improvised field. /// Two fish-net goals mark either end of the improvised field.

For once, it’s a cloudless night. /// For once, the stars shine clear.

Sometimes the sentence needs a little finagling to remove the bad verb and sometimes you can let a couple remain if it sounds better with the cadence or syntax. Generally, they’re not necessary and you won’t realize how strange it looks until you go back and delete them (it also helps shave off your word count).

Sometimes the to-be verb is necessary. You're writing in past-tense and must convey that.

He was running out of time does not have the same meaning as He ran out of time, and are not interchangeable. You'd have to change the entire sentence to something probably a lot wordier to escape the 'was'. To-be verbs are not the end of the world.

2. Putting character descriptors in the wrong place

I made a post already about motivated exposition, specifically about character descriptions and the mirror trope, saying character details in the wrong place can look odd and screw with the flow of the paragraph, especially if you throw in too many.

She ties her long, curly, brown tresses up in a messy bun. /// She ties her curls up in a messy brown bun. (bonus alliteration too)

Generally, I see this most often with hair, a terrible rule of threes. Eyes less so, but eyes have their own issue. Eye color gets repeated at an exhausting frequency. Whatever you have in your manuscript, you could probably delete 30-40% of the reminders that the love interest has baby blues and readers would be happy, especially if you use the same metaphor over and over again, like gemstones.

He rolled his bright, emerald eyes. /// He rolled his eyes, a vibrant green in the lamplight.

To me, one reads like you want to get the character description out as fast as possible, so the hand of the author comes in to wave and stop the story to give you the details. Fixing it, my way or another way, stands out less as exposition, which is what character descriptions boil down to—something the audience needs to know to appreciate and/or understand the story.

3. Lacking flow between sentences

Much like sentences that are all about the same length with little variety in syntax, sentences that follow each other like a grocery list or instruction manual instead of a proper narrative are difficult to find gripping.

Jack gets out a stock pot from the cupboard. He fills it with the tap and sets it on the stove. Then, he grabs russet potatoes and butter from the fridge. He leaves the butter out to soften, and sets the pot to boil. He then adds salt to the water.

From the cupboard, Jack drags a hefty stockpot. He fills it with the tap, adds salt to taste, and sets it on the stove.

Russet potatoes or yukon gold? Jack drums his fingers on the fridge door in thought. Russet—that’s what the recipe calls for. He tosses the bag on the counter and the butter beside it to soften.

This is just one version of a possible edit to the first paragraph, not the end-all, be-all perfect reconstruction. It’s not just about having transitions, like ‘then’, it’s about how one sentence flows into the next, and you can accomplish better flow in many different ways.

4. Getting too specific with movement.

I don’t see this super often, but when it happens, it tends to be pretty bad. I think it happens because writers feel the need to overcompensate and over-clarify on what’s happening. Remember: The more specific you get, the more your readers are going to wonder what’s so important about these details. This is fiction, so every detail matters.

A ridiculous example:

Jack walks over to his closet. He kneels down at the shoe rack and tugs his running shoes free. He walks back to his desk chair, sits down, and ties the laces.

Unless tying his shoes is a monumental achievement for this character, all readers would need is:

Jack shoves on his running shoes.

*quick note: Do not add "down" after the following: Kneels, stoops, crouches, squats. The "down" is already implied in the verb.

This also happens with multiple movements in succession.

Beth enters the room and steps on her shoelace, nearly causing her to trip. She kneels and ties her shoes. She stands upright and keeps moving.

Or

Beth walks in and nearly trips over her shoelace. She sighs, reties it, and keeps moving.

Even then, unless Beth is a chronically clumsy character or this near-trip is a side effect of her being late or tired (i.e. meaningful), tripping over a shoelace is kind of boring if it does nothing for her character. Miles Morales’ untied shoelaces are thematically part of his story.

Sometimes, over-describing a character’s movement is meant to show how nervous they are—overthinking everything they’re doing, second-guessing themselves ad nauseam. Or they’re autistic coded and this is how this character normally thinks as deeply methodical. Or, you’re trying to emphasize some mundanity about their life and doing it on purpose.

If you’re not writing something where the extra details service the character or the story at large, consider trimming it.

—

These are *suggestions* and writing is highly subjective. Hope this helps!

[genericpuff]

I know LO has been over for a while but something that's always confused me is the 10 year punishment thing. (I dropped the comic before the judgment so correct me if im wrong)

apparently Persephone was sentenced to 10 years in the mortal realm. Yet she complains that Zeus keeps extending her punishment but the timeskip only ends up being 10 years? (From 20 yrs old to 30). that makes it sound like she had a shorter sentence that was extended to 10 yrs (what a fuckin slap on the wrist if it was).

Either her punishment was 10 yrs and Perse was just banking on early parole release or she always had a short sentence which ended up being a measly 10 yrs anyway.

But then that would mean Demeter's punishment period was either tied directly to Persephone's or (for some reason) she had a full 10 yr sentence while Persephone got an initial shorter period

If it's not either of those then shouldn't her punishment be longer? 11, 12, 15, 20 yrs instead? Would make more sense that she was mad if she had to serve at least twice as long as she was told to

Ah so actually she wasn't sentenced to 10 years, she was basically sentenced to a perpetual punishment until Zeus felt certain conditions were met, such as her filling all of the responsibilities of Demeter and turning Minthe back to normal.

So the reason it wound up being 10 years was because Zeus kept finding reasons to extend the sentencing, clearly in an attempt to keep her away from Apollo as he was already suspecting that he might use Persephone's fertility goddess powers to overthrow him.

(joke's on Zeus though, he was overthrown with a poison cupcake lmaooo)

That said, Persephone was... really dumb when she failed her 10th inspection. Primarily because she broke one of the rules Zeus put in place for her before he did the inspection-

Like it's really funny in hindsight to read this scene because at the time the narrative was definitely trying to make us believe that Zeus was the bad guy here, and to a point he's definitely fucking around and not actually planning on letting her out of confinement while also doing jack shit to get to the bottom of his own suspicions regarding his son... but also girl, if your plan was to prove to Zeus that you had filled your end of the bargain, then why try and give him the letter prior to your once-a-year inspection? Either you're failed again over some arbitrary made-up bullshit reason so you can use the guilt-trip method after he's already screwed you over, or best case, you pass and you can deliver the letter to Hades yourself! It was a really dumb move on her part to immediately jump to asking him to bend the rules he made for her when she should know Zeus isn't gonna feel obligated to 'owe' her anything, and is completely contrary to her being as "smart and cunning" as the narrative tries to make us believe (remember when she hustled Hades at chess and lied to him about having a driver's license? where's that Persephone?)

And yeah Zeus really isn't wrong when it comes to how Persephone herself is such a "uwu look at me I'm a smol widdle baby girl, please break the terms of my punishment for me because I asked with tented eyebrows bats eyelashes" , this is honestly why so many people like Zeus as a character in LO contrary to how much the narrative tries to make us hate him, because while he's absolutely an asshole who deserves to be knocked down a peg, at least the narrative doesn't try to gaslight us into thinking he's a good person like it does with H x P. Zeus is a shithead but unapologetically authentic; Persephone and Hades both pretend like they're saints on earth (and the narrative tries to sell them to us as such) meanwhile they're constantly picking on lower class people and using their power and influence to get their way even when they haven't earned it.

But also yeah, it's funny how the fans will say "age doesn't matter when you're a god, time doesn't mean anything when you're immortal" to dismiss the massive age gap between Hades and Persephone, but then cry foul over Zeus keeping her in confinement for 10 years which is a pretty bare ass minimum sentence when you really think about it. Like, if the passage of time really is that inconsequential to a god, then how is 10 years even a punishment? It's only suddenly seen as a massively unfair punishment when it's Persephone who's suffering it.

[biancadoes1]

Hi. IMO I agree with long theory, anon.

I have never said this specific theory out loud in fear I was projecting my own relationship past into that narrative. However, I have experience in this specific dynamic & thought I could share some examples of why it isn't even close to delulu. If anyone is interested.

I had my best friend fall for me while he was with another woman. It happened accidentally, over time, by us becoming close & working together for 6 years. I denied it all for a long time until someone close to us both called HIM out, point blank. In real life, uncoupling without causing damage to everyone involved is extremely difficult. Maybe N didn't want to be a rebound, but also, maybe L didn't want anyone to think bad about both of them for "breaking up a relationship." Outside influences/opinions can be detrimental to a new relationship, especially when work is involved.

The idea of A, J, or even E being a decoy is extremely plausible (we had a plan to use one, too). Was it screwed up? Absolutely, but... sometimes, to be together, it has to wait to be shown to the outside world & we WEREN'T EVEN FAMOUS. So what did we do? We continued how we always did with friends & we eventually snuck around (once he broke up) to get alone time. As millennials, I wore a chain with his initial, we posted ambiguous songs, lyrics, thirst traps for each other & OMG SOMETIMES WE DIDNT LIKE each other's posts!! 🙄 Business as usual. In the year we worked together after, only ONE person noticed ONE time we flirted more than usual. Otherwise, NO ONE knew. However, if we went on that WT, I can GUARANTEE we would have been just as unhinged. This is where IMO, the body language expert (for those who watched), didn't have a full scope of their entire dynamic.

I will say, the family of it all does make it tricky & I can't speculate on theirs, but to show dynamic for understanding... Mine knew.. my sister had actually mentioned his googly eyes 2 wks before our mutual friend, but she didn't approve. My mom knew & approved. His real mom knew & was semi supportive, but his dad didn't know & wanted him to fix his relationship, which was rough. Taking family into consideration is extremely tricky, especially if there is concern on any side.

The SM postings between them all are also very telling to me, lol.. drama. Love it! & to pretend it doesn't exist is dumb. I won't go into my personal feelings on it all, but it's TELLING. Specifically, the Italy pap pics.

The truth of it all is... REAL relationships are messy AF. The jackolas are too immature to fathom a non fairytale scenario. This is why they make JD out to be so many things he is not & project their rejection onto L. Their lack of life experience is causing them to try & manipulate the narrative like the children they are. I hope they all get some life experience real soon because it's all creepy to watch. I also hope that one day, they grow enough to experience the love & admiration of a gay bestie.

Anywho, I hope yall see these theories are all very plausible for real life. Stop saying it's too delulu, please. It's not.

Thank you, long theory anon for saying all the things I wish I could. Youse the real GOAT & MVP.

No notes.

[invested-in-your-future]

Wait wait wait what happened to Veronica Mars?

Have you ever seen a creator of something destroy their own work and annihilate the entire fandom in a single moment?

That's what Rob Thomas did.

Imagine you have a show that's kind of cool and builds up a cult following. And then the show delivers a completely unexpected characterization and pairing that resonates so well that the fandom survives the show's cancellation and thrives on pure hope for a DECADE.

Imagine the fandom's efforts leading to a movie sequel happening, reviving a show after YEARS. Now imagine that movie actually ending up quite good.

And then the fandom gets a few books set after the movie that are also pretty good.

Things are looking up and even a new season of the show gets announced!

And then the revival season airs.

And the characters you loved act completely ooc and the pairing that carried the franchise is written as toxic in contrived ways - the things people loved about the franchise are now missing, nobody acts like themselves and the narrative almost maliciously takes shots at the fandom - and then revival season ends in one of the worst twists ever. A twist that is so dumb that it effectively destroys the pairing AND the fandom.

Then show runner doubles down and gloats about how pairings sometimes don't work out and how this is obvious way forward to make the story more "grown up" and how you can't just write characters as happy - it becomes clear that somehow the person in charge viewed the elements of franchise that made it survive for decades as nothing but baggage, or worse yet - Its weakest link.

The fandom, rightfully, didn't take that too well - the revival season has become synonymous with infuriating and malicious destruction of everything good about the franchise and the core fans of the show never ever forgave the man for what he did.

And with that the show died. Truly died. Not "being axed" died, but emotionally - the very soul of the fandom was ripped apart - out of a misguided effort to prove a point Rob Thomas not only destroyed one of the most hopeful fandoms that carried the torch for the show and pairing for years but also bombed his own career.

There are many cases similar to that where people in charge unwittingly sabotage their own work - Voltron's homophobia, RWBY altering its entire setting into generic pseudo-religious fantasy (after the creator died) due to new showrunner's ego, the tragedy of Killing Eve and few others - but very few blow up in a way Veronica Mars did.

Rob Thomas has become more than a name - he has become a verb used to describe a situation where an author sabotages their own work out of some misguided sense of conviction (or money).

Life is Strange is facing similar situation now - except it's worse because:

It's not even the original authors doing this as the work has been essentially hijacked by people who had nothing to do with what the fandom loved about it.

The nature of the pairing being screwed over also does an immense damage to what the pairing represented to people this time.

[icallhimjoey]

To Have And To Scold

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friends are getting married, and who else can they ask to be their best man and maid of honour but you and Joe? It’s just that… you don’t really get along all that well, do you? At least, that’s what you think.

CW / disclaimer: sort of enemies to sort of lovers, slooow burn, language, rpf, fem!reader, smut, drinking

Author’s note: we made it girlies, it's time to get all the answers, but also time to say goodbye - it's been a JOURNEY and i apologise for how long this took me! Pls enjoy!

Wordcount: 6.7K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five- part six- part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten - epilogue

"You know I want to say it..." Joe said after a short silence.

"I know," you were well aware.

"Please let me say-"

"No."

It had been a week. Just a week. Joe wasn't allowed to say those words to you. He let them slip that night, had just blurted them out at the wedding, and you hadn't been able to swallow the words. Instead, they got lodged in your windpipe and had made you want to throw up.

"Please don't." you instructed, eyes trained on Joe's hand.

You felt Joe's eyes on you as he took a deep breath, settling on the understanding that you didn't want to hear them yet. You'd been playing with his hand for a little bit as you were both on your sides, heads buried into pillows and you'd already told Joe to go to sleep three times because you knew what time his alarm would go off the next morning.

But how could Joe sleep with you on your side of his bed, slowly tracing the lines of his palm with your fingers?

"Did you really think I hated you?"

Joe's question flushed you with a gentle wave of emotions. The delicate vulnerability and the sense of elation were the direct effect good sex had on you, which left you feeling you both physically and emotionally exposed. You could sob from looking anyone in the eye for a second too long right now, so coming in hot with a question that you knew Joe needed an honest answer to, did exactly that.

It contorted your whole face a second, crumpled it up into an ugly cry, breath held as your throat tensed to keep the sob inside because, yes you did. And it had always bothered you.

You had thought about it all week, kept going over interactions you'd had with Joe over the years and tried to puzzle it all into the narrative of Joe having a crush on you.

But it was difficult.

It didn't matter how many people helped you, how much Poppy tried to convince you that she didn't know Joe like this, that it had to be real. How much Mark tried to drill into you that he remembered how Joe looked at you the first time Mark and Poppy had forced you two to hang out together.

And it didn't matter that on some level you did understand. Understanding it in your brain and feeling it in your body were two vastly different things, after all.

So you nodded, because yes, you had honestly thought that Joe didn't like you. That he didn't want you in his life.

With eyes squeezed shut and your face screwed up you turned onto your back, trying to escape Joe's direct gaze a second. You felt how his hand that had laid relaxed in between you gripped onto yours for comfort.

Tears welled up fast, but you knew how to handle them.

You forced your face to relax, forced your eyes to open, forced your ribcage to expand and inhaled deeply. You held it there for a few seconds before you exhaled through your mouth and... you were fine.

Deep breaths always helped.

Turning back to Joe with your face relaxed, your expression smooth, all void of emotion, you found him looking at you with worry-filled eyes.

"You do that," not a question, just a statement about something Joe had noticed.

"What?"

"You stop it." Joe remembered how, several times, he'd seen you cry, and every time, you'd been able to stop it just as quickly as it had started. Maybe not as fast when you were drunk, but... still. This was some very advanced repressing of emotions.

Unclasping your hand from Joe's, you placed his hand back where it had laid before, in between the two of you, palm up, ready to get back into drawing lines over it with your fingers because that was just as soothing to you as it was to him.

"You'd rather have me cry?"

If Joe was honest, he did. He wondered how long it would take for you to be able to lose the tough exterior around him. Fully lose the whole I Can Take Care Of Myself facade. He felt that you had shed some layers already, but those were layers he'd put there himself. Joe now had to filter through neutral territory before you'd be able to let him in any further. To trust he did actually like you.

"I have never hated you," Joe whispered, and moved to kiss your forehead.

"I know," you whispered back, fully focussed on Joe's hand again. Stroking. Tracing lines with delicate touch. Avoiding Joe's eye-contact, mostly.

"It's the opposite,"

"Joe," you warned, eyes shooting up a fraction of a second to meet his.

"I won't say it."

But Joe thought it. Felt the words in his bones, strengthening and weakening them at the same time. It was agony, but you'd told Joe it was only fair for him to say those words if it was in response to you saying them.

And it had only been a week.

A week.

A week since you'd made it downstairs and found the groomsmen, the bridesmaids, Poppy, and her dad, all ready and waiting for the ceremony to start. Mark was down by the altar, and the room was filled to the brim with people.

The groomsmen had been paired up with the bridesmaids to walk down the aisle; ladies on the left, men on the right. Which was funny, because that meant that you and Joe would have to cross paths at the end to go stand in your correct groups and you knew it'd get a soft chuckle from everyone there.

When you and Joe lined up at the end, in front of Poppy and her dad, she had been on your immediately. Tried to be subtle, but asked all sorts of questions. She very obviously tried to make the two of you confess you'd been hiding in a coat closet together, but you didn't budge. Kept straight faces. Told Poppy she looked beautiful in her dress. Smiled at her dad, who had no idea what was going on, but was polite and tried to calm his daughter. He even shushed her a little, which made you and Joe look each other as deftly as you could as you tried to hide smiles before it was your turn to walk down the aisle.

During the ceremony, your mind was swirling. Going a million miles an hour. You were stood behind Mark, who looked at Poppy, and behind Poppy was Joe. You had your eyes locked at the back of Mark's suit, able to see Joe in your peripheral vision just over his shoulder behind Poppy, and you were meant to follow the ceremony. Listen to the officiant's whole official shpiel. Listen to Mark and Poppy's heartfelt vows. But your mind was elsewhere.

Convinced that, in hindsight, you should have somehow known of Joe's crush, you were stumped to realise that you hadn't. Not even a little bit.

Poppy had said he'd been in love – like, actual love for 'fucking ages' and... bitch, where?

Mentally you were so far removed from what was happening around you that, when the officiant asked for the rings, you had to be pulled from your thoughts by a loud scrape of Mark's throat.

"Wha- rings! Rings. Yes. I've got the rings."

And Joe pressed his lips together, bit them into his mouth to hide a smile as you handed over the little red box.

Whilst you'd been staring at Mark's back, sort of frowning in thought, Joe had been eyeing you. He could see how your eyes were sort of glazed over, all out of focus, and he couldn't help but blame himself for you missing it. You were missing your best friend getting married to his best friend because you were all zoned out, and he predicted he was responsible for it. Sensed how being forced to stand still and in silence for a long time probably wasn't helping his situation.

It gave you time to go over what had just happened.

What you had just learnt.

And fuck. Joe was going to have to answer to a lot, probably.

When it was time to follow Poppy and Mark out, all the way down the aisle and out of the room with everyone stood up and clapping, Joe smiled and nodded at the people he walked past but said, "All right, ask away,"

And as you smiled and nodded at the people on your side of the aisle, you said, "Where do I even start?"

The fact that you were convinced Joe had never really liked you was probably the right place to start.

But you were at a wedding.

And you were in the bridal party.

This was hardly the place or the time for a serious conversation, to ask all the tough questions you had on your mind. Yet, it was the only thing on your mind. Couldn't think of anything else. It just kept wandering there, and it didn't really help that Joe was there the whole time, reminding you of all of it.

Things grew complicated in your head. Things tangled and twisted until you couldn't undo the knots.

You kind of wished you were back in that coat closet again. Where it was dark, and hot, and where no one else could see or hear you kiss, and touch, and pant into each other's mouths.

But you were at a wedding.

So. You found moments to steal.

A couple of seconds here and there to stand close enough to Joe for you to sneak out an accusation. Something Joe would have to answer for, and he'd have to be quick, because it couldn't look like you were actually talking, could it?

The day was about Poppy and Mark.

The newly weds.

You were the best man and the maid of honour. Still had jobs to do.

So you hid in plain sight. Got your questions out and had Joe answer them as fast as he could.

During cocktail hour, there were photographs taken outside in the courtyard. The whole bridal party got involved, both sets of parents too, and it was a lot of posing in various groups.

When you and Joe were stood off to the side, both looking at whoever was next to pose next to Mark and Poppy, you stole the moment.

"You don't like me..." you said, loud enough for just Joe to hear. You weren't even looking at each other, but Joe knew you were talking to him.

"I do like you... I had to make you think that I didn't,"

"Well," you inhaled sharply. "You're a fantastic actor."

Had it been anyone else saying that under any other circumstance, it was the best compliment Joe could wish for. But this, right now, coming from you? It stung.

"I couldn't have– there's so many reasons, all stupid, I assure you, but I couldn't– Poppy would, well, I thought Poppy would never have–"

Joe didn't get to finish his sentence. The photographer called you over, wanted you to pose with Mark and the other groomsmen and you didn't hesitate to walk away. Didn't let on you were listening to what Joe was saying.

The next moment you found was just before the bridal party was to enter the venue where everyone had just sat down for dinner.

"The framed photo you cropped me out of," you stated flatly, eyes up ahead.

"Folded photo," Joe corrected you, and you snapped your head to look at him, all bewildered, because what the fuck?

"I folded that. I wanted to frame the full thing, but I couldn't. You were off-limits. But you were there.... just, hidden, at the back of it,"

You were introduced, and had to snap out of it quickly. Faces open and joyful because you were at a wedding and tonight was going to be fun.

You found your seats and looked at each other when you saw the name cards placed next to each other. You'd seen the seating chart beforehand, and the two of you had not been sat together according to earlier made plans.

Poppy.

Fucking Poppy and her stupid meddling.

It gave Joe a chance to explain more as the newly weds entered, and applause thundered before they started their first dance. With the both of you turned in your seats to watch you best friends sway in each other's arms, Joe got to talk.

Joe explained how he couldn't have given himself a finger, because he would've gone and grabbed for the full hand.

Joe told you how it was all a thing of self-deprivation, and that Poppy had been right when she said Joe had had feelings for you for a while.

Joe was no longer hiding anything. He no longer cared about keeping secrets. All the initial thoughts, the first things that would pop into his brain, it all came spilling out. Quietly, and rambly, but it was all there for you to soak up.

The misplaced jokes. The walking you home. The silent message Mark had sent him with a single shake of his head. The chats he had with Poppy about her insecurities that always included you. The shirt and tie and dress shoes he wore in his own house. The shared gelato, "I was crossing a line there, scolded myself for days after," Joe said, and you didn't think that was true. That was the first time Joe'd been slightly normal. The first time you felt you'd had a normal chat, had both felt brave enough to apologise to each other, and hadn't been hindered by adverse winds.

The dance ended, people clapped and after a small welcome toast, everyone turned in their seats and the first dinner course was served.

Joe glanced at you from the corner of his eye and leant into you a little, indicating he was listening - waiting for your reaction to all of it.

"You're a weirdo," you said into your glass of wine right before taking a sip, and Joe smirked, because, yea, he really fucking was a weirdo.

For a while you fell in conversation with others at the table. The evening flowed from the first course to the main, after which Poppy's dad gave a toast. Cute words for the newly weds, honorary mentions of the female best man and the male maid of honour that got a laugh from the room, and then, you and Joe got to do your speeches.

Throughout Joe's speech, Poppy cried into the napkin that Mark dabbed at her face before she took it from him. Throughout yours, you could barely hold it together yourself and it made Mark get up to come and hug you. You finished the speech together as Mark held you and Poppy filmed you with her phone. Mark read along with an arm wrapped around you as you stuttered meaningful words into the microphone, both of you sniffling, crying messes.

You loved Mark.

And Mark had gotten married to the best girl.

When applause filled the room again, and every single female relative of Mark over the age of 45 had awed at the two of you, you rushed over to hug Poppy.

You loved Poppy too, almost just the same. So you told her, spoke it into her hair, and it made her hug you tighter. Poppy hummed, and you expected her to say it back. Instead, she softly said, "We heard you in that closet," which squeezed a laugh right out of you and you scrunched noses at each other as you pulled back.

"You've got to tell me everything," Poppy said.

For a second you thought of denying it all. Considered pretending that you had no idea what she was talking about. But she looked so excited, all giddy at the prospect of you and Joe in a coat closet together. All she really knew was that you and Joe had kissed a couple weeks ago, and that Joe had done something that had upset you - that was it, no more details, at least that you were aware of.

"You stole the fucking rings from me," you said, and it confirmed enough, making Poppy squeal as she dug her fingers into your arms.

"So you made up? Are you okay?"

"Definitely still angry,"

"My God, what did his stupi–"

"Pop," Mark interrupted, and you thought it was because she was interfering. Like it was Mark's way of helping you out, because this was hardly something you were going to get into right now. Maybe even ever. But when you both looked at Mark, he pointed behind you at Poppy's father, because it was time for the father-daughter dance and it wasn't time to get worked up over something Joe had done a couple weeks ago when you had kissed him. Obviously.

You took Poppy's seat and sat next to Mark as you watched Poppy dance with her father, and it was weirdly emotional. It made your throat swell and hurt, but you managed to keep it all in there.

"So, was Poppy right, then?" Mark suddenly asked.

You blinked at him a second.

"About you and Joe?"

Mark's face gave away nothing about his intent, so you figured he just wanted to know. No judgment.

"I had the rings, didn't I?" was all you said, a small smile playing on your face as your crossed leg swung under the table. A slow grin grew over Mark's face as he frowned.

"The fuck you not telling me shit for? How long as this been going on?"

All you managed was a huffed laugh as your eyes found Mark's mother coming up behind him, and you smacked his shoulder before saying, "Is there not a mother-son dance that you're meant to be a part of?"

You knew it hadn't been scheduled in.

But you also knew what Mark's mother was like.

Seconds later, Mark and his mum joined Poppy and her dad and you leant your head into both of your hands, elbows resting up on the table and across the floor, you saw Joe.

He was also watching his friends, head perched on his fist as he leant an arm on the back of his chair.

Joe's real pretty, you thought. Did he look different to you now that you knew?

Yea.

Kind of.

Wait. He really kind of did.

Looked less like a distant, arrogant prick, maybe. Or perhaps he looked the same, but it was you who was seeing him in a different light now.

Joe must have felt your eyes on him, because you saw him shift uncomfortably in his seat and look around before his eyes found you. Joe looked right back at you, held your gaze, and for a moment you both had your heads resting on your hands and just... stared. Just admired. Looked right at each other, across the full length of the dance floor.

You were waiting for a smile to break across his face, but it never came. You thought maybe your mind should've been swirling with thoughts, but, it was eerily quiet up there. Just... look at him.

That man was in love with you?

Wild, honestly.

A visual deep breath from you got Joe to nod his head up at you, a small little raise of his chin, his eyes two big questionmarks, and he meant, what's up? You all right?

All you could really do was shrug as you shook your head a little, a small defeated smile below pinched eyebrows, and you meant, what the fuck are we going to do?

The song ended, people clapped, and then more people joined in to dance.

You kept eyes on each other, both skilled at keeping them trained in the exact right spot, no matter how many people broke the line of contact with their dancing bodies.

That was, until Poppy and Mark slid into your vision - not quite enough to make you break eye-contact, but enough to lean over and look from you, over to Joe, back to you again with shit-eating grins upon their faces.

They'd seen you look at each other and needed you to know that they had seen.

Mark made a face at you that made you want to punch him too hard on that divot between his bicep and tricep, where you could hit him right on a nerve.

Poppy started beckoning the both of you, wide arms waving for the both of you to meet on the dance floor, but before you could even properly think of how to react, the cake cutting was announced.

And Mark and Poppy were little shits.

Made you and Joe stand next to them, each holding a small glass plate, beautiful crystal, ready for them to cut two pieces of cake that they would feed each other and then you'd be ready to collect whatever chunks would be left in their hands.

You remembered how Poppy had been adamant, "If you smear any cake anywhere I'm immediately divorcing you, that's so fucking tacky," and Mark had laughed and argued that he the thought of pushing cake into her face hadn't even crossed his mind.

And Mark loved Poppy, and she trusted him. So there was no hesitation as they fed each other bites from larger chunks of cake that they held in their hands. And you were so ready with your little plate. So ready to be a good best man to Mark, to help him out, had a napkin in the other hand for him to wipe his hand on too.

Cameras flashed, people got pictures and videos of Poppy and Mark feeding each other and thank fuck, it was a clean ordeal. Just two small bites. No mess. Fantastic. Exactly what Poppy wanted.

But Mark and Poppy were little shits and they got you fast.

You and Joe ended up with cake smeared all over. There were shrieks and there was loud laughter and more cameras flashed, and there was buttercream in your eye, and you inhaled vanilla frosting way up into your nose which hurt. Marks hands got cake all over your face, and when he stopped to loudly laugh at his work, through a squinty eye you saw how Poppy got Joe worse.

Joe had cake all over his face, up in his hair and even down his suit.

"Poppy, stop! This is Gucci!" Joe cried out and it made you want to roll your eyes at him. Of course it was Gucci.

The napkin you'd been holding was about to wipe at your face, but Mark stopped you and pulled you in for a group shot with the four of you; you and Joe pushed together into the center, Mark and Poppy either side. Mark squished your cheeks with his one dirty cake hand and Poppy used hers to push against the side of Joe's head. It knocked his head nearly into yours and with the flash of the camera, both Mark and Poppy stepped away. Disappeared from your sides fast. Probably scared you were going to get them back.

And, oh man, you absolutely were going to get them back.

Later, though.

When they'd least expect it. Maybe do something dumb to their house whilst they were away on their honeymoon - you'd think of something.

"We should get new friends," Joe commented, gesturing for you to turn. Universal sign for, come on, follow me, to make it over to the bathrooms to get cleaned up.

"What do you mean? These ones fed us cake!" You joked, trying to pick icing from you eyelashes as you walked and it made Joe halt and drop his face at you.

"She missed my mouth!" he said pointedly, and you laughed as you pushed the swing door to the toilets before stepping inside. You blamed the sudden sense of privacy as you were no longer under the watchful eye of your best friends for what you said next.

"Impressive, that's a difficult mouth to miss,"

Joe narrowed his eyes at you as he studied your face. Your posture. It made him twitch inside his trousers. Was this going to go where he thought it might go?

Then, in the low light of the swanky dark hotel bathroom you were in, you reached a hand over and wiped a thumb across Joe's cheek all the way to the corner of his mouth. It pulled at his lips as you flicked it, scooping up buttercream and bits of cake from his face in between your index finger and thumb that you then brought to your mouth.

Yes, Joe thought. This was absolutely going to go where he thought it might go, and looking at you sucking your digits clean made him audibly groan.

Joe dropped his head and had to focus on breathing.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Deep breaths always helped.

Except, not really. Not this time, anyway. Why was the image of you covered in wedding cake making his dick hard?

Joe had to use a clean hand to adjust himself in his trousers. You saw.

"Yea? You want to finish what you started?" you smirked, eyes twinkling.

And Joe couldn't fucking believe what he was hearing. His eyebrows shot up, and he immediately tried to reason, "There's cake all over this Gucci suit," but he was already leaning in, fingers reaching for your mouth, his body fully betraying him, because how could it decline the invitation?

Joe's kisses tasted like wedding cake. Sickly sweet, vanilla and white chocolate, all sticky and... distant. Joe was leaning over as much as he could, kept his body as far away as possible whilst still making sure his mouth got want it wanted from you.

Joe was trying to stay clean and you weren't having it. It made you pull at him, and it made him lose his jacket.

It was gross, and you had to breathe through your mouth because there was cake up in your nose, but you kind of loved it and started pushing Joe back into a stall.

Joe let you, locking the door behind you before he continued, and you knew posh little clean pristine Joey probably had thoughts and opinions about getting dirty in the toilets of a hotel, swanky or not. But then Joe said, "This cake tastes good," when he licked some off your face and followed up with, "Best way to taste test," whilst you started gathering the fabric of your dress at the hips, slowly inching it upwards.

And like you had asked of him, Joe finished what he started in your kitchen a couple of weeks ago.

Got his big hands, those thick fingers, in all the places you wanted them. Got his mouth there too – he had to, couldn't stop himself. Got frosting all over your neck and all up between your thighs and it was the exact opposite of what you had come in there to do.

Joe had you whimpering and moaning when he eventually slid inside you, face to face this time, pressed up against the stall door, no more distance, and fuck, this was so much better.

You weren't exactly quiet, so he tried to stifle the noises escaping you by scooping frosting from your face into your mouth, which made you laugh, which in turn made him growl, "Oh my God, shit," because that felt fucking amazing.

You had to stop momentarily when you heard someone come in. Had to freeze on the spot, Joe deep inside you, big eyes looking at each other, and it felt a little like you were back in that coat closet. Too close to each other. Barely breathing. Hiding.

It just turned you on more.

Whoever had walked in muttered something about Joe's suit jacket that was on the floor, picked it up and then walked out with it. Presumably to go and find him. Was that Mark?

"Quick," you whispered, not wanting to get caught, and Joe said, "All right, yea, laugh again, come on," which wasn't a joke, but it still made you laugh.

Walking back into the wedding, wiped clean of all the wedding cake and with absolutely nothing running down your inner thighs, you realised you'd missed the bouquet toss. You didn't mind, but you knew you were probably going to get some shit from Poppy for it later.

To remain as unsuspicious as you could, Joe entered half a minute later but then immediately got you a drink, and came to stand beside you. You watched the dance floor for a second, both with drinks in hand, both not sure what to do or what to even say to each other.

What the fuck was your life right now?

Two sudden heavy hands landed on your shoulders, and it was Mark, startling you before he pulled you onto the dance floor with him. You were only just able to quickly pass your glass to Joe who swiftly took it from you before you disappeared into the crowd of dancing couples.

You expected Mark to mention it.

To at least say something about it.

But then he didn't, and you fucking loved him for it.

This is why you and Mark were the friends that you were. Anyone else would've said something, would've commented, joked, would have poked fun.

Not Mark.

Mark just wanted to dance with his best friend, his best man, at his wedding and you could tell he was well on his way to getting drunk because his eyes were half the size they usually were.

"I know I always say that you don't deserve Poppy, because she's too good for you,"

"She is," Mark agreed and smiled at you.

"No, I was wrong. I think you're the perfect fit. Exactly right for each other,"

You saw Mark look over your shoulder, and his eyes went all droopy and lovesick. You knew he had to be looking at Poppy.

His wife.

A quick check proved you right, and you saw Poppy dance with Joe and fuck. Why was Joe looking at her like that? All soft and sweet, like he was the one who had just married her instead of Mark?

In a flash you realised it. And...

Oh no.

Envy.

That was envy?! Shit. Had that been envy this whole fucking time?!

"What's up?" Mark asked, a little confused at what he'd just seen across your face.

"Nothing," you were quick, tried to hide all of it with a smile.

"What?" Mark persisted and you sighed, all deep and heavy, turning back to look at Joe who was still looking at Poppy like the sun shone out of her ass as they slowly swayed to the music together.

"No, it's... it's not– why does he look at her like that?"

Mark blinked at you.

"Sorry?"

"No, never mind, it's stupid, let's not–" you backtracked immediately.

"Oh my God," Mark exclaimed and then laughed loudly, head thrown back before he let it slump forward.

"I might as well have fucking married you today, what the actual fuck, you're– it is true! You and Poppy are literally the same person, it's so– this is so creepy!"

And yes, okay, it was a little creepy that, when Mark and Poppy had just started dating, Poppy apparently had asked Mark about why he would look at you like you were the reason he was even alive to begin with. Mark told you she would still sometimes bring it up when they argued, and Mark would always say, "I don't know! I love her! I can't help what my eyes do!" and Poppy would shout, "That's weird Mark, I am your girlfriend!"

It humbled you real fast.

It had never occurred to you what you and Mark looked like when you communicated with just looks. With eyes and subtle facial changes and this stupid spark of jealousy, which you now recognised was exactly what that was, made you want to go hug Poppy.

So that's what you did.

You took rushed steps and then pried yourself in between Joe and Poppy to hug her.

"My girls," you heard Mark say, but he was quick to correct himself and followed it up with, "Our girls."

Made you want to give him a black eye.

But then Poppy mused, "Our boys." and it kind of felt exactly right.

"My wife," Mark continued, using the offensive Borat accent, and Poppy replied, "My husband," in a Russian accent, the h pronounced as a hard g, because why not. Before you knew it they were making out all gross again, like they had down at the bar where you'd met after the hen do and stag do.

"Yeaaa, why not?" Joe said under his breath, nose all scrunched up.

"You said something about getting new friends?" you joked, and it made Mark find the side of your head to push you away. You laughed as you nearly lost your balance, and Joe laughed as he reached out both arms to make sure that you didn't.

"Come on, let's dance,"

And it was all fun and games getting Joe to make you come on his mouth in a toilet stall before he railed you, but you still had questions. Were still mad for him leaving you in your kitchen without explanation.

Learning that Joe had been having feelings for you just confused you more.

So you danced as you held onto each other because that's how everyone else was dancing, and you decided the moment was another one for you to steal.

"Why did you leave that night?"

Joe took in your question and slowly inhaled through flared nostrils.

"You just walked right out,"

It was the worst thing he could've ever done and he was an idiot, Joe agreed. Good, you thought. At least you were on the same page about it. Joe revealed how learning of how you and Mark had become friends had thrown him for a loop, because there he was, head over heels and finally getting to know you better. Spending more time with you. Granting himself normal human interactions that he hadn't been able to afford himself before you'd been given this job together. And then there you were, telling him how traumatic it had been that guys always seemed to want more from you.

More.

Like Joe wanted more.

Joe couldn't be one of those guys. Didn't want to add to your hurt. And you were also both drunk, and had been shouting at each other in a bar, and that wasn't how he had wanted any of that to go. But, he was still an idiot, and he should have never left.

You nodded and agreed.

"Yes, you are an idiot, and you should have never left... but that's also weirdly considerate,"

"Well, you have been calling me weird behind my back a lot, or so I've heard,"

Big sigh.

Mark and Poppy were not to be trusted.

"Listen…" you chose to ignore what Joe'd just accused you of. "I feel very tender about little teenage me. Fourteen-year-old me felt a lot, did everything with all of her feelings. Went through life feelings first, thoughts second. Out of everyone, out of everything, she makes me cry the most… but I’m not her. Not anymore. I’ve not been her in over a decade, I’m not– I'm not fragile like that anymore, I’m tough now!"

The way Joe had been looking at you as you talked was the same way he'd always look at Poppy... but, times twenty.

Head tilted to the side, eyes half-lidded, a slow smile pulling at his cheeks – and, all right, if this was the type of shit Joe had done his best to hide from you all this time, why he made sure to stay unapproachable and cold, you kind of understood.

"Okay," was all Joe said through a wide smile.

"Okay?"

"Yea. Okay."

So, it was okay.

And when Poppy and Mark passed you, she peeked over Joe's shoulder and asked you again, "Did he apologise? Are you all good now?" and by ways of answering her, you bit into Joe's shoulder. It meant, not entirely. Not yet. But I think we will be.

It made Joe chuckle and pull you close, taking your face into his hands and pressing slow kisses onto each one of your eyelids. It nearly made your knees buckle, and that's when he said it.

Blurted it right out.

Soft enough for only you to hear, but somehow still threateningly loud, because the words rung in your ears.

"I love you."

It hitched your breath immediately.

"No, that's too soon,"

"It's been years,"

Yea, for Joe, maybe. But it had only been, what, eight hours for you. You agreed then and there that if you were going to do this, you were going to do this slow.

Do things slow to get them right.

Like normal people would do.

And sure, normal people wouldn't have the same starting point the two of you had, but it was whatever. Joe could pretend. You told Joe to ignore how he'd just eaten you out whilst you were both covered in cake and got him all flustered as he shushed you, afraid people would hear.

You said Joe could think crazy things. Things like I love you and that, but he couldn't actually say it. Not out loud anyway. Not for you to hear. You didn't care what he told Poppy about you. That was none of your business.

Yes.

You were going to do this sensibly, astutely and normally.

But, then, you weren't really normal people, were you?

Because all throughout that first week, in just those seven days, there had been moments where you'd thought those words too.

When you'd been on your way out on Tuesday morning after staying the night, and had to walk past Joe who was putting that picture of him and Poppy back up in his hallway, except now a new larger frame held the unfolded version that had you and Mark in as well.

And then again when you'd come over on Thursday for dinner, and Joe opened the door in blue jeans, bare feet and a white T-shirt that had a hole just below the collar.

A hole.

You thought you'd never see the day.

And then a couple of hours ago, when you'd been over at Mark and Poppy's for drinks, and they'd pulled out a game to play. It was you and Mark against Poppy and Joe, and whereas Mark and Poppy got ruthlessly competitive, you noticed Joe was doing everything in his power to sabotage the game, making you win.

It's just that you'd decided you weren't just going to blurt it out willy nilly, all haphazardly. Especially not after Joe got you all comfortable in his bed, massaged your shoulders, your back, your legs and then your ass before he'd undressed you fully and made you feel like you were the most important thing in his life right now.

No.

You were keeping those words in for a stupid moment.

Like when you'd catch him digging dirt from under his fingernails whilst trying to be all sly about it.

Or when he'd pretend he didn't mind that you left his kitchen all dirty, but then casually went to clean the entire room straight away.

Or when he'd wake up in a panic when he slept through an alarm, knowing that if you'd say it then, it'd only make him later to whatever he was already late for.

You didn't know. But you'd think of something.

And you were lucky, because there was something grounding, something very secure about knowing that the person who you would say it to wouldn't hesitate to say it back. Would probably repeat it a thousand times then if he could. Kiss you on your eyelids again to make you swoon.

Joe fell asleep that night with you on your side of his bed and you played with his hand until you heard soft snores beside you. What had been so weird before had grown to be just right in the span of just a few days.

And it was all right.

Because Joe was in love with you, and you were in love with Joe.

And that was all that mattered.

the end

---

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(taglist currently full, sorry)

[duckiemimi]

i wonder if gege's biggest problem (likely bc of the push to prolong jjk) is that they just threw out the original storyline the second the gojo vs sukuna fights started. i mean, there were definitely problems with the ever expanding cast and spreading them all too thin still, but (as someone who's only loosely been following the leaks since a little after gojo's death) the entire story feels so meaningless now 😭 the build up for everything gojo wanted holds no meaning and i get that gege hates gojo for overshadowing the other characters but like⎯excuse my lack of knowledge about manga culture⎯gojo's been the main character ever since megumi was taken over. yuji's been sidelined for so long and even yuta⎯who's ridiculously powerful and the only special grade in his generation, i believe⎯not making a difference just leaves the story falling flat.

(also: i've never understood the whole push for gojo to be front and center just bc he's the most popular. the mc is *rarely* the most popular character in a manga⎯bakugou (and even sometimes todoroki) overshadowed deku so much in bnha but the story still managed to center deku as the main character. i think people give gege a little too much credit for this⎯it just feels like bad writing or an attempt at fanservice when they write gojo like *this* when they're clearly sick of him.)

(also x2: literally none of the characters have a purpose anymore and sukuna's just screwing around so there's no one with a strong enough narrative left.)

(also x3: shoko deserved better. but that's a whole other rant.)

i think that's possible actually, considering how well-anticipated (and prematurely hyped up) the gojo vs. sukuna battle was! and it was a long and drawn out battle, too, so i have a feeling that was done out of request from publishing (or a third party) rather than something gege actually wanted to linger on!

the culling games to me read like an exploration in worldbuilding. remember when kenjaku started talking to and dealing with world leaders and when the US army (failed to) intervene at one point? it seemed like gege was playing with the boundaries of the jjk universe and while it was messy and convoluted at times, it was still pretty enjoyable for me! it felt like a writer who still wanted to write. it's a shame that gege took on more than he could chew, because there were so many aspects that could've been built upon, even if it would've been inconsequential to the ending message of jjk.

this arc...felt like something owed. to who, i could only guess, but it doesn't read like something he was excited to write. ever since gojo got unsealed (another well-anticipated scene), things have become rather stale. and that's probably why we have an influx of polarizing scenes—to get us to keep reading. gojo being brought up constantly (even after his death) also seems like a request or a push from publishing (or a third party). like you said, it feels like fanservice. (which is so demeaning to a creator, especially if it's put above all else.) i think he's too tired (and now he's sick) to actually attempt to properly tie everything he wrote together, let alone do anything about characterization! which is just such a shame :')

[writinandcrying]

TMNT ONE SHOT - Holiday Season - A Special gift

Christmas was not your favorite holiday, at least you had a mutant turtle to help out in this trying times (GN READER, Tw: dysfunctional family, arguments and bickering related to food, crying mentioned)

Fluff - makeout / first kiss with *insert turtle you like* after a shitty xmas (English isn’t my first language and I didn’t proof read this 😗✌️, pls don’t hesitante to correct me if you see something off putting, I hope you guys still like it!)

You climb up the last steps of the fire scape connecting the roof top of your building, dragging your feet as you groan one last time, it’s impressive you can hear your relatives arguing several stores bellow, you have lost count how many times people can pick on each other on their free will. You drag your hands along your face and sigh, you want nothing more but to distance yourself from that.

You didn’t get to feel much of The “Christmas spirit” everyone seem to love and cherish since you left your childhood years, and it seems that every year you learn to dislike December a little bit more. As much as The Grinch was deeply relatable for you lately, you didn’t want it to be, having a dysfunctional family in such a tender Holiday was kinda like receiving punch in the gut every day until 25th of December died out. After the first 10, the warm smiles and happy wishes over a great season seem to constantly mock your misery, leaving you bitter and resentful.

Leaning over the edge of your building, you check the many light up windows and different narratives playing along on your neighborhood, a family all gathered up taking a picture by their decorated tree on the left, you let a chuckle out by thrilled parents filming a rather young child by your right, to what it seems taking their first steps by their excitement.

it was nice seeing different kind of life’s playing along the fairy lights on the streets bellow, secretly wishing yours would be a little bit like theirs, reality seems distant as you accidentally disassociate, thinking how -your- family would be seen compared to those merry ones, your parents resentment growing against each other every minute, barking mean comments left and right to you messing apparently everything up. The perfect picture of a broken home. Awful to see, awful to be part of.

You sigh as you recall what drove you to the edge moments ago, a silly comment really, it was so small compared to the constant bickering around the whole month of December, but picking on you eating a single cookie? That you made? You spent the whole day cooking. The whole day trying to have a good Christmas, you can feel yourself fuming as you remember how much you have worked your ass off the whole month for their presents, for a good Christmas dinner, as they wouldnt even buy a single pair of sock for you. Give you a single “thank you” for all of your efforts, You tried, you really did, Despite all the odds against your favor, you still tried, when you finally decide you give yourself a taste of your hard work, your family dares to give you shit about your eating habits? No. Nuh uh.

That was the last drop. You marched to your room as you heard someone giving you shit one last time after harshly dropping the plate on the dining table. knew you would be screwed when they found out you were gone, no amount of locks would keep them at bay for longer than 2 to 3 hours. But god, you needed a time out. Yes, you would rather freeze your butt on a dirty and frozen roof top than to listen to another passive aggressive bullshit comment.

“you have been hiding here all this time?” A familiar voice fills out of the foggyness of your thoughts, your head turns around slightly, watching a well known silhouette marvelously shining through the moonlight “nobody’s seen you in days” his tone isn’t harsh or accusative, you can almost hear a incredulous chuckle out of him, he speaks lightly, curious to your whereabouts, you can also hear him landing near the regular rooftop entrance, you stare once again to the uncountable windows and buildings in front of you.

He waits for you to retaliate, reply with witty comeback, flash him an apologetic smile, anything, but silence wins you over. He knew something was up when you were this quiet, your family would be the main topic when you vanished like that, he also knew you needed space to deal with such matter, in due time, you would ask for comfort, you would seek for his presence, just like when he comes to you, yet this time it never came, you never came. The ninja turtle slowly leans over, trailing his eyes ahead as you do.

A sniff catches him off guard, he knows it shouldnt, but it does, he glances at you to finally see your glossy eyes staring ahead, a blush covering your cheeks and nose; You look adorable, sad, disappointed, frustrated, but still can’t help but to find you adorable, his hearts stings as you rapidly catch a sneaky tear roll down your cheek, turning your back at him before he can catch you in this arms.

“Didn’t want to bother.” your voice comes out more shaky than you would like, a bit hoarse due to the current season, you rub your hands together, if he questioned about your well being, you could just blame it on the cold weather,on the perfect snowflakes falling above you two.

“You could never bother” he trails along slowly, weary as if you were a scared cat, afraid that any hasty movement could make you dash “how about we go to the lair? Everyone misses you.” he gently places a hand on your back, “I miss you” he ponders, moving slowly to be by your side, your eyes don’t meet his, he wants to lean down, he wants your eyes locked on his, he wants you to trust him as much as he trusts you, he wants nothing more but to hold you close and kiss your sorrows and tears away.

he stays put instead, waiting on your call.

You instinctively turns towards him, his warmth drawing you in, you want to smile, to tell him over and over that eveything is fine, you were just busy, he doesn’t have to worry.

Instead your mouth is pressed in a tight line, you can feel your lips trembling when you try to speak, you know words will come out wobbly, and for the first time, you won’t be able to hold back tears in front of him. This is pathetic. You think, you want to be at the lair. You want to be near them, but how can you explain you can’t bare to see their love, brotherhood and companionship tonight? You can’t feel part of it? This night isn’t about you, it has never been and it will never will be, you just get used to it.

You look up; your thoughts swimming through your eyes, you open and close your mouth, how do you explain you crave affection, but can’t seem to bear it?

The turtle holds you in a swift movement, carrying you with ease, gently but still firmly holding you against his plastron in princess style, the familiar adrenaline rushes trough you as you can feel him jumping from roof top to roof top, you don’t have words to question him, astoundingly admiring him as you stare at his focused face facing the horizon ahead.

You close your eyes for a moment, learning your face over the valley of his neck and collarbone, in a blink of an eye, songs, chatter and laughter fills the air and you remember you are in New York , the most magical city to be this time of year. Yes, you had probably the crappiest month of your life, but for a moment, you let yourself drift away in bliss, focusing on sounds and passing colorful lights.

He settles both you on a empty office balcony, everything is dark inside accept for the faint lights on a very worn out tree looking back at you, you check your own reflection, your eyes are red and puffy, your hair is uneven, and there are millions of colors shining behind you.

The Rockefeller was the most iconic place all over New York during Christmas time, slowly turning around, the tree and it’s surroundings leaving you both speechless, you loved Christmas lights, it was impressive to say the least how the decorations were absolutely ethereal. ever so slowly, you both sit down and admire the virw quietly.

“You don’t have to deal with everything on your own” is the first line he graces you, you wanna laugh with that alone, look who’s talking you think over, but you can’t say it, you know he is right, he chuckles as if he could read your mind, he gently tilts your head upwards “next time, call me. Text me. Reach out, for goddess sake.” He smiles at you, you let out a huff, smiling shyly “you have so much on your plate already, I just, I didn’t-“

“You deserve so much better” he shakes his head, lips pressed in a thin line. Over many years of his life, he has thought he had too little and humans had absolutely everything on top side, it was unfair and left a sour taste over his mouth. you have shown him that kind of thought was childish, he had a family, he had people he could count on, that’s alone is a lot more than what many people have, He can’t take that fact for granted anymore.

He also knew your biggest wish was to be part of something like that, his biggest wish was to make you feel part of it, maybe even something more.

You shyly lace your pinky with one of his fingers, ducking away as you felt your face burning under his deep gaze, you were so appreciative of his family, of him, of his patience and dedication, to say you have a crush on the turtle was an understatement, everything the he did made your heart skip a beat, the way he would always seek out for you during hangouts, how he cared for your preferences and well being, you found yourself unable to look away when he was training, when he would laughs so care freely, when he gets lost on his interests and everything seems to slow down around the both of you. You rest your head gently over his shoulder, you know you can get lost in his eyes quickly, you bite your lip when you think of his, and how heavenly it would feel against yours.

“It’s alright..” that what you manage to come up with, it’s cheap and it’s empty, but you don’t know what else to say. “No it’s not.” He says it firmly, interlocking your fingers tightly to prove his point.

Sometimes, you swear he feels the same as you do, you swear you can catch a soft longing from him across the dinging table, across the dojo over self defense training, short glances that are filled with unspoken words, that the innocent touches are not so innocent anymore. but life has taught you not to hang on those wishes, not to have hope. It was hurtful to do so.

“why do you care?” you let a frustrated sigh out, you hate how you just asked that the moment the words left your mouth, you aren’t frustrated at him per say, more towards your feelings, at how clammy your hands feel around his, how fast your heart is beating, how you secretly hope he knows that you didn’t mean to let that question out, how much of a chicken you were, how you fought annoying daydreaming scenarios with him on daily basis and yet just wish he kissed you already.

“Because I do.” he makes you look at him again, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, and for the first time tonight, you look at him, you really look at him, how he is breathing fast, how dilated his pupils are when he looks at you, how his thumb drags temptingly over the bottom of your lips, letting out a shaky breath as he squeezes your hand one last time.

“because I just do.” His gaze is locked in yours, pleading, full of what you have denied yourself for years, telling eveything you have ever wanted without any words. He was yours, and you are his.

you finally tell yourself fuck it and kiss him.

It’s desperate, it’s passionate, it’s eveything you want and more, you drag your nails on the nape of his neck and draws him into your space, your chest hits is plastron as he grips your hips as he pins you down against the ground, the way you hook one of your leg on top of his shell drives out a moan out of him, making you arch your back, you nibble his bottom lip as you swear you gonna lose your mind.

You don’t know how long has passed, your grip on him is as strong as his as you lay beneath him, you makeout until you are both out of breath, until the anger and frustration has been worn out and you two slowly melt together, once fervent kisses turns into soft, gentle ones, until you are both looking at each other, smiling and giving pecks between giggles, translating eveything you have both been feeling towards each other

“Goddamn.” he draws a hearty laugh out of both you, the turtle rests is forehead against yours, sighing dreamily, giving you feather light kisses on your cheeks as you pull him closer.

“I care a lot about you too.” you drunkly smile to him, caressing his cheeks tenderly, “I sure hope so.” you hook your arms around his neck, laughing at his antics.

“I gotta tell you something tho.” you tilt your head curiously, he looks down at your lips, licking instinctively as you bite yours.

“you surprisingly taste like gingerbread cookies”

That makes you giggle once more.

——————————————————————————

It’s 3 am and Idk how to finish so hopefully the end it’s not too abrupt *confetti sounds* 🎉 let me know if you guys liked it!

[in-g-major]

ATLA Unpacked: Ty Lee's Potential

One of the many things we missed out on from ATLA Book 3 was a Ty Lee character arc. Of Azula's trio she's ultimately the least explored and most auxiliary, which is sad. The possibilities were certainly there: a girl who seems too good-natured for the ruthlessness of the Fire Nation, coerced into helping Azula, seemingly naive about what her nation is doing or perhaps too timid to voice her concerns. Gee, all that sure rings a bell doesn't it? So, here are some things that I think could have been done w/ Ty Lee given what we know about her. 1. Friendship with Zuko and eventual Redemption Arc Canon screwed this one up during "The Beach," but there's no reason it had to be that way. Ty Lee should have been the person Zuko warmed up to the most given that they're both more caring people than Mai and Azula. With Ty Lee and Zuko, you have two sheltered and privileged teenagers who don't quite fit the mold of what Fire Nation children are *supposed* to be. As a result, Zuko is banished and Ty Lee leaves her aristocratic home life behind. Zuko's banishment and journey across the world helps him realize that the Fire Nation's war is wrong. Ty Lee, who was part of a traveling Fire Nation circus and eventually traveled the Earth Kingdom with Azula, could have easily come to the same realization. We never even get her perspective on the war in canon! Just imagine Ty Lee and Zuko bonding over martial arts, theater, and collecting pretty sea shells. They bring out each other's best qualities and motivate each other's redemption. 2. Standing up to Azula This has been commented on before, but Mai being the one who defies Azula instead of Ty Lee during "The Boiling Rock" is not a satisfying emotional climax. Mai happily left her boring life behind in "Return to Omashu" as soon as Azula gave her an opportunity, and she openly defied Azula's orders with no fear of retribution at least once. What Azula represented for Mai wasn't fear. Azula was the metaphorical "devil" on Mai's shoulder, distracting her from her lack of emotional fulfillment with fun and thrills. The one who was genuinely afraid of Azula, and abandoned her passion out of that fear, was Ty Lee. Ty Lee standing up to Azula and emerging victorious is far more emotionally and narratively satisfying given their dynamic. It also gives Mai a more character appropriate choice to make in the situation. Which leads me to my third point 3. Mai and Ty Lee marsreds made a fantastic commentary I read years ago. I'll link it in the comments, but her point was that throwing Mai into an awkward and uninteresting relationship with Zuko took the focus away from her relationships with Azula and Ty Lee and made her character arc about a boy. It's a pretty damning commentary on the sexism that seeped into the way ATLA's female characters were written, and how that became the norm for the franchise by the time of the comics. Anyway, a hugely missed opportunity for Ty Lee and Mai was their relationship with each other. Even though I am pro MaiLee, I won't make this ship heavy. Ultimately the writing has to come first, but Mai and Ty Lee do have a fun and touching dynamic. Ty Lee is even more playful and affectionate with Mai than she usually is, and Mai shows genuine care and empathy for Ty Lee. When they reunite in Omashu, Mai asks Ty Lee what happened with her joining the circus. Then, during "The Beach," Mai is the only one who stands up for Ty Lee, telling Zuko to back off and figuring out the root of Ty Lee's desire for attention. We never see Mai this invested in someone else's feelings and well-being with anyone else. The character appropriate choice for Mai in "The Boiling Rock" wasn't betraying Azula for teen love. It was choosing between the friend who encouraged her better self (Ty Lee) or the friend who kept her from growing as a person (Azula).

[findmeinthefallair]

Retraumatization vs. Self-Soothing (Part 1)

There will be a Part 2 that focuses on new material from Watching and Dreaming. Warnings: Heavy discussion surrounding how trauma works, mentions of self-harm, suicidal ideation, death, effects of abuse and discussions about therapy (from my perspective as a practicing therapist).

Military training and preparation in Hunter's old life as the Golden Guard did not make room for two aspects of mental health issues: getting retraumatized, and how to self-soothe (which is rooted in relationships, not to be confused with the cognitive clarity that I imagine Belos expects from the elite Emperor's Coven).

Having a clear purpose laid out for him by Belos as a result of enmeshment with his parental figure...is what he was so used to, as evidenced by this line:

He lost that sense of purpose, since Belos betrayed him. It will take much reassurance for him - from external inspiration, and having it be internalized over time - to believe deep down that he is allowed total freedom to decide who he'd like to be.

First off, retraumatization:

You can be triggered but not necessarily experience retraumatization, sometimes it may be a partial episode, sometimes a full-blown episode. It is almost always unavoidable in complex trauma and can happen in unexpected places at unexpected times, even in therapy sessions.

Hunter was clearly retraumatized during his 2nd and 3rd panic attack scenes. In For the Future, I think the two scenes where he rages also count. All those scenes except the 3rd panic attack were partial retraumatization, but the haircut scene seems like a full-blown event where it's pretty obvious he's at risk of seriously hurting himself. He was reliving the unspeakable.

Examples of him being triggered but not retraumatized are when he saved Gus towards the end of Labyrinth Runners, and at the end of Clouds on the Horizon when he failed to save Luz.

I know from my own C-PTSD experiences that the intensity of such episodes can vary: ranging from a small annoying mental prick that is far away enough that I'm not even irritable or noticeably scared, to feeling like my soul has been torn apart all over again.

I personally think the most insidious part of complex trauma is the first number of years of its aftermath, like aftershocks which can be more damaging than the original events. Once you are safe from the immediate danger, grief settles in for real, you begin to see in retrospect how screwed up the events were, and you're in a minefield of painful reminders. Casually taking a second to consciously remember a tiny fraction of the events can be enough to reel you into being retraumatized.

For the rest of Hunter's life, there will be so many bad memories he retains. Some days he might be fine, but there could be days where saying Flapjack's name out loud might be enough for the floodgates to open. He might feel that he'll be fine in opening up to a new group of people about what happened, but once he begins he might find it hard to breathe again. If he's anything like me, he'll also be stricken by a bunch of nightmares about being trapped in places, or about people hating him and acting like he doesn't exist.

Some memories will be more notable than others, one of which is the searing memory of Belos's ultimate display of rejection (wanting to discard him once he asked "What did you do to the other guards?") and of abandoning him:

And I suppose the darkest of all, the muscle memory of the helplessness he experienced during the possession scene:

And the blame he'll inevitably place on himself deep down, despite his efforts to rationalize and convince himself that it was all Belos's doing. He has been tainted with moral injuries that have marked him for life. During life-altering events like this, there is usually a most upsetting split-second that a client can single out when they process it in therapy. It's even used as a narrative device of sorts in shows: here it's when we see the shadow on the ground showing him hurting Flapjack, and off the top of my head I remember it being a significant point in another show I like, The Sinner, which the plot built up towards. In trauma-informed modalities like Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR), the therapist literally gets the client to find this most upsetting mental image as if its a frame to single out in a mental video file, and will then measure how disturbed the client is. This is only done after 1) trust (rapport) can be clearly felt in the relationship between therapist and client, and 2) they get the client to put in a solid amount of practice imagining themselves in a safe space of their own choosing (which is like the opposite of a traumatic flashback: positive and deliberately created, not negative and automatic).

It's easy to identify what sensation Hunter would find the most upsetting:

Anything that might remind him of this tactile experience could open that doorway to feeling retraumatized.

*horrible cracking sound of palistrom wood being damaged* And it's almost like the web of awful reminders (internal and external) he has, will branch out of this worst exact moment.

Therefore his treatment plan would require much tailoring and room for variation depending on what kind of day he is having. A concern that his loved ones would have is of retraumatization like below, that presents the risk of self-harm:

Another concern is the risk of the terrible voice of C-PTSD whispering things to him, the inner critic that might be fed by survivor's guilt:

(E.g. "Why did Flapjack have to be the one to die? It should have been me. I don't deserve my loved ones. Maybe I shouldn't even exist")

or fed by Belos's gaslighting which definitely happened several times offscreen:

And: Hunter wants to learn how to carve palisman, a craft that will bring new meaning and fulfilment as he heals, but which won't be as easy as he'd like it to be.

I was astounded like crazy when looking back at this:

"Palismen bond through emotion. I do not sense any conviction from you." "Emotion" and "conviction"...

both of which are essential components of recovering from trauma.

It couldn't be more poignant to have the character in the show who endured the most trauma (if you count how in his old life, he stole palismen and sent them to their doom, to literally keep his abuser alive), want to be the successor of this craft. I think he will have to embrace "emotion", like never before. And "conviction" about his life direction.

If he ultimately shuts himself down, isolates himself, letting the grief imprison and encase him,

that would be the antithesis of the big speech he gave in Thanks to Them. But I know he'll have the amazing resilience to want to love and connect deeply. And to make sure Flapjack's sacrifice wasn't in vain.

I'm already thinking that whoever his therapist might be (and my god, I 100% say he needs one. I'd rather he not refuse therapy, though maybe he'd need a bit of time before he starts such sessions, because his case desperately requires someone properly equipped to untangle all that trauma).......they ought to establish the following:

Increasing his self-awareness, acknowledgment and acceptance of his mind and body. The frayed feeling of being hypervigilant. The scars covering his body. The talking aspect of the therapy will play a role in attaining this.

Recognizing internal and external trauma-related triggers and cues that may show up in his routine, to actively take self-care measures, e.g. he is unpleasantly reminded of something during an outdoor picnic with the others.

Going through skills such as containment and distress tolerance. Sometimes a therapy session can get scary enough that a client cannot feel safe taking their pain home with them. They can practice containment by visualizing themselves leaving their pain with the therapist for safekeeping. Eventually, the client can hopefully contain the pain themselves and bring it with them wherever they go. Distress tolerance examples include naming all objects of the same colour around you, or doing something nice for another person.

Being familiar with the specific self-care methods that work for him, since this will vary a lot from individual to individual.

In the first number of months learning how to carve in the workshop/wherever he'll be taught, he definitely should not be left unsupervised, not just because of inexperience in carving: but also in case of retraumatization. The simple act of merely touching any palistrom wood on a bad day might be enough to viscerally bring up the upsetting image of Flapjack being harmed.

A guardian figure (current best guess: Camila?) must be briefed on how to be present for him and what to do if he needs help during bad episodes, relapses or other emergencies. Said adult should join in the therapy sessions at times to reinforce trust and safety in Hunter's new world of officially being in a family. An adult is a far better choice because the other kids should not shoulder such a responsibility (i.e. being parentified like what happened to Hunter) as they process their own trauma, though they of course can help in smaller ways.

If he's wanting to make his own new palisman (very high chance that this will be canon), I bet people like Eda might want to run through that with him. It may not appear onscreen but the therapist could also discuss this with him in sessions because it'd be good to think through whether to allow some time to grieve Flapjack first, even down to details like discussing the meaning and intention of creating the new one, does he want the size and feel of the new one to be different, etc. Perhaps he should even bring the work-in-progress carving to therapy where the therapist can check how he's doing in real-time with the tactile experience of touching and feeling the wood in his hands, processing the likely fear he'll have of harming anymore palisman (yes, even the new ones he creates), especially with how things went with Flapjack. The underlying theme would be his new opportunities to create life vs. the trail of destruction he has been a part of via his association with Belos. His own hands have created things, and have not just played a role in damaging and destroying lives.

Looking into the kind of relationship he has with the idea of physical touch, since his body has been violated, since his being was reduced to an object and tool. Forming new associations to exist alongside the old associations, e.g. when carving a new palisman, it'll be a very long time before he'd ever engage in that without Flapjack even crossing his mind, if that's even a possibility. I have a good feeling that a new palisman of his own would naturally help him along in terms of keeping him calm and grounded using physical contact, by filling an additional role as his trauma support animal (Flapjack himself was undeniably an emotional support animal, like a war veteran's therapy dog). Therapy plus his support network could help him hold both the newly forming memories together with the old haunting ones: they can coexist, and logically the general intensity of the traumatic memories will decrease over time.

Biggest of all in my opinion, keeping him from falling into black-or-white thinking and catastrophizing especially re: the grief about Flapjack. Seeing how he is coping with feelings of grief, guilt and shame. He would be feeling guilty, like he is leaving Flapjack behind or like he is choosing to forget him (this pattern is common in bereavement), if he chooses to have another palisman of his own. But he needs to believe he can still make space for Flapjack in a new way, in his life. ("Black-or-white thinking" and "catastrophizing" are from a list of what's called Cognitive Distortions, a handy aspect of the commonly used Cognitive Behavioral Therapy theory, or CBT. You can easily look up the various types with a Google search) Finding ways to honor Flapjack, honor the good memories and integrate the bad ones. In the early weeks it will be a lot for him to remember specific times like this:

without being able to separate them from the worst memories of harming Flapjack, and the potential to spiral into retraumatization will be high. This poor teen might run into the "What's the point?"/"There's no point" depression wall which is a frequent sign of black-and-white thinking in recovering from trauma and grief.

There would be more on the above list for sure, but this is a substantial portion of it.

Next, self-soothing:

Self-soothing has not come naturally to him (yet), but he has had exposure to being soothed by others. There are also great clues that he needs this, such as the plushie he owns and keeps under his pillow.

Gus introduces one form of this to him, the square breathing technique, in Labyrinth Runners. Further practice to improve at self-soothing would be an upgrade beyond the basic actions we do on autopilot. An example of basic body language is Hunter slightly hugging his lower legs and bringing his knees up in front of his chest to feel safe here:

I think the root of him lacking the skills to effectively self-soothe is...he has not experienced secure attachment with a parent/guardian. Attachment theory (devised by John Bowlby in the 1950s and expanded upon in the many years after that period) has to do with how kids develop a sense of security and whether they can bond with and depend on responsive and responsible caregivers or not. There are four attachment styles, three of which are insecure compared to the healthy secure type of attachment. 1.Anxious attachment: Children with this kind of attachment have very high distress when a parental figure leaves and is absent. The kid may show needy behavior and have a low sense of self-worth, and struggle with the tension between craving closeness with others yet feeling they're unworthy of that.

2. Avoidant attachment: This usually means the parent prioritizes the child learning hyper-independence, and may punish the child for naturally asking for help. It would reach the point where such children avoid the parent, and even show no preference between said parent and complete strangers. Later in life, they may stay away from being vulnerable, appear to have high self-esteem but dismiss others' emotions which would lead to relationship issues.

3. Disorganized attachment: This style is where the parent was inconsistent and unpredictable, perhaps being both a source of comfort and fear, so the child's attachment pattern is reflected in a confusing mix of behaviors and being quite on edge. The world and the people in it would feel scary and unsafe for the child.

4. Secure attachment: As you can imagine, such kids would have had their needs attended to by a parent who has a calm, soothing presence.

My hunch is Hunter leans towards the disorganized category, since Belos is terrible like below, sending mixed messages and getting Hunter to fluctuate between seeking attachment and recoiling from it:

This takes us to the most important part of this analysis:

The need for warmth in Hunter's relationships.

A concept not incorporated into a toxic culture like the Emperor's Coven. But which is vital to truly facilitate deep trust, and is essential in what Hunter is looking for most: a family.

And such warmth is something that extends beyond words, detached analysis or a theoretical understanding, all of which are processed by the prefrontal cortex of the brain. It goes deeper into the realm of experiential understanding (and, physical affection is something that definitely lends to formative experiences), feeling trust and security, which of course is more subconscious.

Examples of putting self-soothing into practice include mindful walks, playing with a pet and journaling. Making it a deliberate routine to promote a good ability to self-soothe - not just using it whenever he is retraumatized - would significantly increase its effectiveness e.g. I advocate for Camila giving him a good morning and good night hug every day, and/or giving such hugs before he leaves the house and after he returns home 😭😭😭😭 Something like that being predictable for a C-PTSD survivor can work wonders.

He won't be used to self-soothing immediately but as he grows yet closer to his new family, particularly becoming securely attached to whoever will replace Belos as his guardian, his wounded inner child will be exposed to the warmth needed for healing. Soothing words to calm him on bad days, wonderful heartfelt hugs, to save him over and over again, like Luz's repeated "You're gonna be okay" from this past scene:

This is what he can take with him when he needs to self-soothe without immediate help being available.

It's certainly not the case that just because he lacked these key foundational ingredients in his years being a young scout and the Golden Guard, it means he is too late. Our brains have neuroplasticity, he can learn and still build a foundation with incredible people in his support network.

Plus. Plus! Related to the earlier section in which I speculated on the challenges he's up against when learning how to carve palismen: I have a good feeling that despite the painful memories and uncomfortable associations, plenty of room will be made for much beauty in that environment and profession. I think the creatures he brings to life will love him a ton, and give back the doses of love that he puts out into the world, via his craftsmanship and him providing something so meaningful for countless witches out there. It'll poetically be the opposite of the fear of the palismen he sent away in his old life, and the fear that followed him around like an overhead raincloud because Belos exerted control over him...and I'm a believer in love and fear being opposites. *cue: a mental image I now have of a bunch of adorable squeaking live palismen flocking to him as their creator...like puppies being excited to see an approaching person*

To wrap up, both the concepts explored above tie in with a concept I researched a bit for this analysis: community mental health.

It is defined by the American Psychological Association (APA) as activities that promote mental health that are performed in the community instead of institutional settings. I've experienced this as a peer support volunteer in a mental health charity's cooking and baking group in the past: it's a cool experience that has a distinctly different feel from sitting in therapy sessions, yet it's a good way to boost mental health. Having both in parallel is a powerful combo.

I'd put emphasis on the last bit of that definition, "instead of institutional settings", because early on I already thought to myself that Hunter, a cult survivor, should not be made in any way to feel as though his recovery progress is a test, evaluation or something performative. That might reinforce the sense of long-time isolation in the castle which he believed was normal before he met his friends.

Additionally it might be over-familiar territory for him to attach the notion of success vs. failure (applying that to his recovery process), to his worth. There's a hint of this in his reaction in Thanks to Them to not doing as well during Camila's brief pop quiz. The Emperor's Coven and everything it normalizes is the height of "institution". Lilith is obviously the other character who has been affected enough by Belos and how her mother treated her for so long, to be prone to the same issue. We see it in how she begs Luz for approval when learning how to use glyphs.

Usually therapy feels prescriptive and staged, unless the therapeutic alliance between therapist and client is strong. But sessions are filled with technical wording such as "skills", "management" and the like on a normal basis. Which is why if Hunter attends individual therapy, solely relying on that in isolation will not be beneficial. It must be paired with a healthy dose of community mental health care e.g. events in markets, schools and notable public places that will have a more organic feel to it.

He needs variety in his treatment plan to dismantle the effects of the Emperor's Coven's fearmongering and rigidity. Variety can intuitively and wordlessly convey to him that life is meant to be lived, not survived. An in-between blend that involves a professional setting like individual therapy but also the community element would be group therapy, which I imagine is a given for so many people on the Isles after the great danger passes in the finale.

Belos's tyrannical reign has left everyone on the Boiling Isles with grief and confusion. It has left the worst scars on not just Luz but also Hunter, since the latter previously operated on the same side as Belos, and unknowingly advocated for a cause that he realized was the opposite of what he felt is right.

Community counteracts isolation and reminds Hunter that he is part of something bigger. There will always be spaces in which he can create something new, enjoy laughter as great medicine, and be heard and accepted.

The second and final part of this topic will be uploaded after Watching and Dreaming. I hope this first part was informative to read.

[psychic-refugee]

Here’s my conspiracy theory.

I have been baffled by why Fester would get a spin off, but not Enid who I think is not only a more popular character but has more narrative potential.

I think Emma Myers was offered a potential spin off, but declined because she a) wants to do other projects. Committing to a Netflix series is very time intensive, and there’s just too long between seasons. It would really disrupt other potential projects if she had to adjust her life around a teen show. b) She’s over Wednesday and being Enid Sinclair since she has the worst fans because the fandom is so toxic. I truly think she does not want to potentially have to play a sapphic character since the most obnoxious and loud fans keep calling for it.

Perhaps the gravestone pic is real, and Emma asked to be killed off. It frees her up to do other things like movies, and she can’t be pressured into taking a role she’s not comfortable with.

Why is Netflix pushing for a spin off at all? Who asked for this?

I think the answer is because of residuals.

I think “Wednesday” will end at Season 2, then many of the IP/characters will reincarnate in “Fester” and then it’s technically a new series. So, the clock starts over for residuals.

The main actors in Wednesday are over it because of terrible fans, and Netflix won’t likely gain new subscribers because of S2. They save money by screwing with titles.

Disney is notorious for doing this, e.g. Suite Life of Zach and Cody vs. The Suite Life on Deck. Even though these two series use the exact same characters but in a different setting, they’re considered different series and residuals are calculated as such.

There is a certain threshold a series has to meet in order to gain residuals. If they create a new series, then it also has to meet that threshold, the IP can’t piggyback off previous incarnations to calculate viewership for residuals despite being the exact same characters and likely riding off the heat of the original.

If I read the new deal and the issues correctly, viewership is hard to calculate to begin with, but they do not differentiate between seasons. So say, season 3 out of 5 seasons of Stranger Things is the most rewatched season, it doesn’t matter it’s all calculated under the umbrella of Stranger Things.   

I suspect “Fester” is a way to disrupt having to pay residuals at the fair rate, because if people rewatch Wednesday instead of Fester, then the actors don’t get paid residuals for Fester if it doesn’t hit the threshold even though they’re all the same character and hit the threshold in Wednesday. This also prevents Festers numbers to bulking up Wednesday's.

This wouldn’t be the same issue if they had simply continued to call it Wednesday even with a Fester focused season.  

[decepti-thots]

Brainstorm character thoughts?

First impression: This character archetype could get kinda old, kinda fast, ehhh.

Impression now: It did not. I love Brainstorm, and tbh I probably ought to talk about him more. He's just so fucking good. The trick the story pulls where on reread you realise there is a whole period he is undergoing a character arc in the background is fantastic, after you have all the context from Elegant Chaos. His weird friendship with Chromedome, the understated way him being an MTO seems to have impacted his apathy towards the war, the ambiguity of his connection with Quark versus the gravity the narrative affords his feelings anyway… just great shit all around. The potentially one-note "haha Funny Weapon Explode Snarky Man" character turning out to be that was such a good thing to experience reading through for the first time.

Favorite moment: Can I cheat. Every moment he has in Elegant Chaos. Oh fine I'll pick one, his inability to shoot "Megatron" but his bluffing about it to everyone even as they're all thinking the worst of him! That whole scene is so. Brainstorm. Brainstorm PLEASE.

Idea for a story: I wanted more of the Brainstorm-Rewind dynamic, and honestly what I truly do wish we had in canon is them having a conversation about what Brainstorm knows of Chromedome's past, self-destructive behaviour, re: his previous cojunxes. Brainstorm loves Chromedome, but in a very different way to Rewind- he can't have that idealized view Rewind has because Chromedome has screwed him over directly in ways Brainstorm has gotten so used to he barely expects better anymore. I would love to see that conversation between them.

Unpopular opinion: I don't take the ending of LL as any kind of confirmation that Brainstorm/Perceptor is canon. I think you can read it that way if you wish, but IMO it's not obviously the case and I broadly don't think resolving that little c-plot with romance is all that necessary, so as someone not into the ship or anything I don't really bother adding that element in when thinking about post-canon.

Favorite relationship: Chromedome and Brainstorm. Hands down. Their friendship is CRIMINALLY underappreciated in fandom if you ask me, they are weird and prickly and sarcastic and in some ways not even great for each other. And also, Brainstorm was going to erase himself from existence after seeing Chromedome have the war take everything from him one too many times. Like. God.

Favorite headcanon: Brainstorm is really ambivalent about his alt mode because it's a military one, but he's never really been able to work out what he'd prefer, so he hasn't re-framed despite that now being a possibility.

[once-upon-an-animation]

So I just finished reading Harry Potter for the very first time as an adult (pirated, of course, because screw JK Rowling). And uhh, I have some thoughts!

- I can definitely see how/why people fell in love with this series as children. So many different and interesting characters, Hogwarts seems like such a fun and interesting school, and the magic is essentially limitless, with so many different spell types, branches of magic, magical items, magical creatures, magical environments, so on and so forth. Had I read this series as a child, I could easily see myself becoming obsessed as well.

- I was actually pleasantly surprised with the diversity in these novels? For how discriminatory JK Rowling has demonstrated herself to be, and how long ago these books were written, there was actually quite a few characters of color and characters from foreign countries in there. Now, of course most of these characters were relegated as side characters, and some of their depictions seem kind of…questionable, but yeah, a pleasant surprise.

- I was a Percy Jackson kid growing up, and I’ve commonly seen accusations of Percy Jackson being a HP ripoff. Having read the HP books now in full, I don’t agree with that accusation, but I can kind of see why those comparisons were made. Some of the details in PJO feel eerily similar to certain details HP (alarm bells literally went off in my head when Harry received an invisibility cloak) and Rick also admitted on an FAQ on his blog that he wanted to replicate the likability of HP, so he took inspiration for certain elements from HP. Do with that what you will, I guess 🤷🏾‍♀️

- Continuing with the PJO/HP comparison, I do feel like the worldbuilding in PJO, while smaller, is a lot more solid than HP. I also feel like the child characters in PJO are more likable and relatable. However, there are some things that I think HP does better than PJO. For starters, I think HP does a far superior job of exploring emotions, and handling the emotional complexity and fallout of certain events, especially on the part of the protagonist. Rick’s decision to focus on constant action was a bit of a detriment to Percy’s character, as Percy’s emotional reactions to major events tended to be glossed over and/or made very brief. I’ll never forget in BoTL after the campers witnessed so many of their siblings and friends die in battle…and then everything just ‘went back to normal’, and their grief reactions were practically nonexistent. HP at least had wisdom to actually dwell on certain emotions and let them simmer for some time in the narrative. While I prefer Percy’s personality to Harry’s, I consider Harry to be a better written protagonist, because he actually gets to perform significant emotional reflection and introspection on the things that are happening around him. Harry’s emotions are presented in a far more complex and compelling manner, because of how layered and nuanced they are. I like that Harry had moments where he doubted his best friends. I like that Harry actually had changing love interests over time, and that his desires in a romantic partner evolved and became more mature over time. I like the Harry had a deeper emotional connection to the villain, a connection that he always had to grapple with the implications of. I like that each death was painful to Harry, and we actually got to hear him reflect on what each death meant to him for an extensive period of time. And oh, what a pleasant surprise it was to see Harry doubt Dumbledore in Deathly Hallows, to see Harry have such conflicted feelings about a character who had mostly been presented as being perfect and flawless up until this point. It was extremely sad, but it was very raw, and a far more realistic depiction of the messiness of teen emotions.

- Another thing that I think HP did better than PJO was the use of adult characters. I know that it’s a very intentional point for the demigods to feel neglected and abandoned by their godly parents and to have to suffer through the world alone, but at the same time, PJO makes weak use of both the gods and of mortal parents, and Chiron, as sweet as he is, isn’t exactly a complex character. Not only did HP strike a better balance between child-led adventures and parental involvement, but the adult characters presented to us are just miles more interesting and nuanced than any adult character presented to us in the original PJO series. The adults in HP had such intriguing backstories, secrets, and skeletons in their closets, all of which had a unique impact on the kids. And it’s not like having the adults present weakened the conflict, or downplayed the danger the kids were in.

- I’ve praised HP a lot, but there are some things about it that I also didn’t like. First of all, as a black woman, that slavery plotline with the house elves was absolutely insane to read, especially with the other students treating Hermione like she was nuts for wanting the house elves to gain freedom. On a related note, I also think the tense relationships between wizards and other creatures was underexplored in general. In Deathly Hallows, we clearly see that the discontent of these other creatures leads to some of them siding with Voldemort, but we’re never told what becomes of that or what becomes of the SPEW agenda after Voldemort dies. I’m assuming things didn’t just magically get better, did it?

- Another thing I definitely did not like is Romione being endgame. I am so sorry to the lovers of this ship, but Ron was so disrespectful towards Hermione throughout the series to an extent that I cannot, in good conscience, get on board with. I, for the life of me, cannot understand why Hermione is attracted to him or would want to spend the rest of her life with him, and she deserves so much better! In my world, she would have ended up with Krum or Neville, or just literally anyone else other than Ron.

- Harry and Ginny are more tolerable to me as an endgame couple, but I just wish that Ginny had a stronger presence in the story and/or more character development. Additionally, a small part of me feels like Harry had a stronger relationship with Luna than Ginny; Luna seemed to understand him even better. I almost feel like Harry and Luna would have made a stronger pair.

- As mentioned earlier, one aspect of HP that I had trouble with was worldbuilding. There are too many aspects of it to go over all my feelings in detail, but generally, I think that the books often fell prey to lots of lore-dumping (especially at the end of the novels when it was time to unveil the secrets and mysteries). I also think that because of how limitless the magic is, there were so many Deus-ex-machina moments that didn’t feel like they got the best set-up or foreshadowing. Along that same vein, I also feel like the magic is kind of ill-defined. Now, I understand that HP utilizes a very soft magic system in which the rules are pretty limited, but it’s hard to get a sense of where the magic starts and stops. As a result, if feels like the characters are so conveniently able to solve certain conflicts because a new magic object or concept can pop up whenever they need it.

I have a lot more thoughts than this, but this post is already long enough, and the rest of my thoughts are really just minor nitpicks. And again, please keep in mind that my first time reading this series was as an adult. I don’t have the same nostalgia or attachment for it that long-time fans would.

Anyhow, I’m off to watch the movies, and I’ll be continuing to read other childhood series that I never got a chance to enjoy. Next up: Artemis Fowl, and His Dark Materials!

[nintendont2502]

I think. there's so much potential with Ult Dirk and fanworks- specifically their meta nature

Like. Idk fanworks are usually created to try and 'fix' a perceived problem in canon (even if that problem is 'character x not getting enough screen time' or 'x and y not fucking' yk). Ult dirks whole thing is trying to fix canon and trying to maintain relevancy (there's a whole interesting side tangent there about ult dirk - a character focused on maintaining narrative relevancy as a source of power - being trapped in Homestuck's post canon, which not only isn't narratively relevant to the source but also isn't relevant to the fandom (and is in fact widely hated) and wasn't even finished - I'd love to believe that was done on purpose but that's just me trying to squeeze any scrap of meaning out of post canon I think)

ANYWAY fanworks are a pretty good way to gain relevancy methinks - unpopular characters/characters screwed over or ignored by the narrative usually flourish in fanworks, right? *But* there's the inherent trade off there - sure, you're gaining narrative relevancy, but it's in a narrative you have no control over. You as a character are being filtered through someone else's voice at best, and at worse there's a whole new version of yourself out there. And just. Fuck how do you think ult dirk - the ultimate version of the guy who had a crisis about different versions of himself outside of his control - would feel, knowing that after he finally united all splinters of himself into one, that's there's God knows how many versions of that version of himself - none of them under his control

If you want to make it really meta, I could almost imagine a version of Ult Dirk, realising he's trapped in a comic that - let's be real here - is never going to get finished, and that no one cares about (and new fans are explicitly discouraged from reading) and getting so desperate for narrative relevancy again that he embraces those fanon versions of himself, allowing himself to become watered down and diluted by the countless different interpretations of him written by the fans in order to maintain his power (or even his existence)

[natsumebookss]

Tragic Yuri or Tragic Yuri: On Female Autonomy, Reclaiming the Narrative, and 2011's Moodiest Magical Girls

(contains spoilers for Madoka Magica and Heartcatch Precure, very slight spoilers for Winx Club, topics of loss and depression, and the author screaming into the void about anime bullshit that happened over a decade ago)

If you've spent any amount of time in the Precure or PMMM fandoms, you've probably come across this quote. It's natural in many ways for Urobuchi to feel the way he does--imposter syndrome is intensely common for artists and I'd imagine attempting to write a subversion of a common genre while a piece of media from that genre is wrapping up a super successful run is challenging. While I won't pretend Heartcatch reached the levels of popularity that PMMM ended up at, it was the highest-selling season for years in terms of toy sales and many still remember it very fondly. (I'm a bit more critical of it, personally, but more on that later.) And so much was made of Urobuchi confessing he hadn't seen Heartcatch at the time of writing his own show, with PMMM antis saying that meant he had no real appreciation for the genre.

But what if I were to tell you that not only would PMMM have been significantly worse if he'd made it more like Heartcatch, but Heartcatch would've been better off if it had been more like Madoka?

A disclaimer before we go any further: I am not suggesting that Heartcatch should've retooled into a darker series, or that it even had the ability to since the shows were made pretty much in tandem. The damage done to Heartcatch, in my opinion, was already done before Madoka's finale even aired. This is purely an exercise in comparing two magical girls from roughly the same anime season (one ending about when the other was starting) and seeing what they could learn from each other. Also note that my title on my main blog is literally "Heartcatch Precure finale anti," so there will be some bias involved. With that out of the way, let us proceed.

Context

Pictured: a completely normal Facebook discussion about a kid's anime character from almost 15 years ago.

For those unfamiliar, Cure Moonlight has essentially built up a reputation for being the Leafpool of Precure. For those unfamiliar with Warrior Cats, this is one of the worst things you can be called in fandom--someone with legions of fans who got screwed over so badly that those fans will never shut up about it. Being a Leafpool is not merely being a tragic character, but being actively fucked over by the narrative at every possible turn.

Let's explore Cure Moonlight in a bit more detail before comparing her to Homura and how, I argue, Homura did a similar story path to hers better. Like Homura, Cure Moonlight is first seen fighting a massive threat to humanity inside our pink magical girl Tsubomi's dream. The dream cuts off before we learn her fate, but all we can see on her face is pure sorrow before it does. The minute she is introduced, she already knows loss.

Throughout the show's run, we get to know her as Yuri Tsukikage, a veteran magical girl forced into retirement after her transformation item has been shattered. She has half of the broken Heart Seed that remains, and her foil Dark Precure, who broke the seed, has the other. Yuri is intensely depressed for this exact reason: she has lost her powers, her duties to the world, her fairy companion (who died in the battle with Dark Precure), and her father has also mysteriously vanished. The audience first sees her as a friend of one of the lead's older sisters, a senpai who excels at both sports and academics, before revealing her to be a broken person inside. The goal of Yuri's narrative, seemingly, is to restore her Precure powers, allow her to confide in new friends, and find her missing father.

The first two are accomplished in a pretty straightforward but heartwarming manner--Yuri begins to find a new purpose in training her Precure kohais and eventually regains her powers through hard work and determination. Typical kid's show stuff, even if seeing Cure Moonlight reappear for the first time is indisputably badass. It's the third one, however, that I have the most problems with.

Frequent followers of my main blog @curemoonliite may be familiar with a term I have called "moonbitching." This is what I call it when I rant at length about the Heartcatch finale and what it did to Cure Moonlight's character, or even just allude to it in the tags. Since this post will already be long enough without it, I'll go light on the moonbitching, but do just enough of it to give you the facts.

In the last few episodes of the series, Yuri learns that her father was brainwashed by the main villain of the series, Dune, and that Dark Precure was cloned from her genetic material while he was brainwashed. This is legitimately a fascinating plot point that, by itself, I have no problems with. However, soon after learning about this, both Dark Precure and her father are killed off in the final battle and all Yuri can do is watch.

Her father sacrificed himself for her in a moment of clarity, she didn't even get time to really process that she's been fighting her sister all along, and she's lost everyone all over again. She started the show with just her and her mother, and the second she sees hope at having a family again, it's taken away from her.

Her kohai Tsubomi, upon seeing this, begs Yuri not to take revenge on the Big Bad that's stolen everything from her. This isn't the Yuri I know, she shouts. But somewhere along the line, we've lost the Yuri we know. All her development, all her growth, has been torn away the minute she's forced to lose everything again. Her path as a character is now uncertain, the narrative deciding it won't allow her to pursue even the slightest act of revenge.

And all Yuri can do is watch alongside us.

Homura and Yuri

The minute I saw this finale for the first time, I was reminded of how a classic piece of children's/family media handled a similar plot point. Allow me to be cliched for a moment, but if we look at someone like Inigo Montoya, we can see that his decision to pursue revenge is never really questioned by the narrative. This is something that's always bothered me about female characters in media, especially magical girl stories--a magical girl can never just say "give me my father back, you son of a bitch." They may want to, but due to sexist notions about women and violence, they're always expected to take the high road.

Oftentimes, this is done by using the magical girl leader as a mouthpiece to directly dismiss their teammate's desires--Bloom and Aisha go through something very similar in S4 of Winx Club when Aisha's fiancee is killed. Neither Bloom nor Tsubomi are naturally dismissive people, and the narrative tends to characterize them as kind, but they are briefly mischaracterized in moments like this to give the typical "revenge is bad" message that kid's shows tend to have. A message that is often distinctly missing from boy's cartoons, but I digress.

Aisha is at least allowed the dignity of separating from the main team for a few episodes to join some extremists, but Yuri doesn't even get that.

And Homura gets so much more.

I'll admit, I still have mixed feelings about Rebellion to this day, but what I do appreciate about it is that it isn't hampered by these restraints that magical girl media made for children seem to have. That villain arc the Facebook commenter from before said Yuri should've had? It was too late for her by the time the finale ended, but it wasn't too late for Homura.

Homura is, in many ways, an anti-Yuri, and a lot of that comes from her having autonomy within the narrative. Female autonomy is something we see discussed in the social justice sphere a lot, but not quite as much in the storytelling sense. Probably the main difference between the two is that Homura, as a time traveler, can stop the ones she loves from ever being killed. In fact, that's also her greatest weakness, as she wears herself down with the timelines so much that she can barely bring herself to care for anything else sometimes.

Homura's depression comes from the idea that she Can Stop The Thing, but can't figure out precisely how to. Yuri's depression comes from the fact that she Can't Stop The Thing, thinks she knows how to, and gets herself into more trouble along the way. One of these makes for an intensely more active character that doesn't feel unfairly dunked on by the narrative, and oddly enough, it's not the kid's show character.

Yuri, as a children's character, is kept from doing certain things by what that entails. Homura, however, has no such restrictions. She can travel through time and repeat everything over literally until she breaks herself. And that she very, very much does.

Homura doesn't have to be convinced in the finale to let Madoka go, she just peacefully comes to terms with it herself. That alone gives her more autonomy than Yuri had, even if we recall that Rebellion's ending was not the original one that Urobuchi had planned. However, Rebellion's ending serves as an ultimate rebuttal to the narrative that a magical girl must simply allow hardship and loss to happen to her. If the world isn't fair to her, if not even time travel works out, why not just remake it?

This action comes at the cost of stripping Madoka of a lot of her autonomy, sure. But it is, in a way, the natural conclusion of how magical girl leaders are often made to strip their "angsty" team members of theirs. Homura's fall from grace is a flipping of this script in every way possible, and even if it's far from the best decision for her to make, we can see that it's 100% fully her own.

The revenge is complete. No one is there to stop her. Even the writers don't really know what to do with her now. Homura has now transcended the fate of the purple magical girl, and that's the best thing that could've ever happened to her.

A girl who seeks revenge is a devil. A girl who cannot become a princess is doomed to become a witch. But ask yourself, is the fear of becoming these things worth becoming a spectator in your own story?

And, if that's the case, is it truly better to reign in hell than serve in heaven?