#and if it seems like i'm disproportionately mad

[pinktinselmonstrosity]

got the grades for that group project back and it is the worst grade i have gotten in my entire time at university 🥴 AND YET the assessor mentions spefically how the part i wrote is "a particular strength" and "does a very good job of introducing the subject of the display and explaining it in clear and concise language"...

how is it fair that even though the part i did had no improvements i have to get marked down because of the shite other people wrote.............. i'm absolutely fuming

[neallo]

the stupid ass "near is 12-13!!! 😱" shit annoys me so disproportionately because it is. just. it's so obviously and straightforwardly Nonsense. for me it falls into the category of "not only have you clearly not read the manga, but it seems unlikely you paid attention to the anime, either." sadly some people are just so fucking stupid. it cannot be helped.

[gothwineaunts]

I tried my best to replicate the post that Tumblr ate earlier.

It’s not as good but you'll get the jist I think. :’)  

---

Hi again! I wanted to follow up on my post from yesterday. I’ve been mostly offline since then, and I feel much better now, especially after seeing the thoughtful responses y’all left. Where did you all even come from!? I don’t think I’ve ever posted this account anywhere, haha. But thank you so much. I’m horrendous at taking a damn compliment but I read all the replies and reblogs and I’m just incredibly humbled. You all brought up my mood a lot and highkey made me feel sane again. I’ve been so confused at why everyone in the WEBTOON comments seems to be so mad all the time, it kind of does my head in if I’m being honest.

But please don’t worry about me or Flynn. Or about Nevermore! We’d never change the story to fit what we think the commenters want us to do, for a lot of reasons. The most important of which is. If we had to do that, I think we’d rather just stop making it. What they seem to want is a story we’re not really interested in telling.

Wholesome wlw is a wildly important thing to be able to find if you’re looking for it. That really cannot be overstated. Until very recently, queer characters have been subjected by popular media to a disproportionate amount of anguish and violence. So the concept of seeing two women just, living a safe and fulfilling life together? I get why people want to see that so badly. And there’s so much beautifully written aspirational content for queer audiences out there now, and I’m pleased to death over it. But the thing is, it’s just not what we’re making.

Nevermore was always intended to be a dark gothicky romance with horror elements. Like Wuthering Heights, or Phantom of the Opera. Because those were the stories that always inspired us when we were young. Bloodsoaked stories of melodrama, intrigue, grief, and passion. Those stories would captivate me and get me asking all kinds of questions. Why can’t the Phantom be a beautiful woman? Why does Christine have the agency of a desk lamp? Why can’t sapphics have something cool like this?

So we decided to make it. Nevermore is not a wholesome romance. It doesn’t try to be. The point was never to explore sapphics having a healthy and (heavy air quotes here) “normal” relationship, like heterosexual couples get to have in real life. We already have that, together, Flynn and I. We live it, everyday.  In Nevermore, what we wanted most was to explore a sweeping sapphic romance full of danger, like heterosexual couples get to have in fiction. That’s why we love those kinds of stories so much, because of how divorced they are from the mundanity of real life. They’re fantasies.

I know that I'm preaching to the choir, aha.

But my point is: if you go to a hardware store to order a cake, you’re probably going to be disappointed. If what you crave is aspirational wlw content, there are so many bakeries you can go to that will give you exactly what you’re hoping for, and more. I especially recommend Muted by Miranda Mundt. It’s also on Webtoon, it’s completed, and it’s free to read.

And please know that I’m not saying to stop reading Nevermore, just maybe to adjust your expectations a little bit. We don’t sell cakes here, but I am pretty sure I've got a few 12ft tall skeleton lawn ornaments in the back if you're interested.

[skiddlecat]

you know what? fuck it. the dynamic between taco and microphone is really interesting and dumbing it down to "evil terrible abuser and poor innocent victim" flattens both of their characters simultaneously.

they both hurt Each Other in ways that can't be undone!!! mic did her fair share of Fucking It Up Big Time as well and i think the way their fallout went down is the best example of times mic could have been better. and before anyone says it NO i'm NOT saying she didn't have a right to back out when she did but what i AM saying is that i think the way she handled cutting taco off showcases one of her biggest character flaws EXCELLENTLY:

when she's hurt by someone, she will hurt them back twice as hard. cheesy makes an insensitive joke? she calls him a monster. taco relapses in her bad habits? she weaponizes her past friendship with pickle. i'm pretty confident in saying both of these responses are Pretty Damn Disproportionate. and i think that's really interesting!!! we should talk more about this!!!!!!!!!

taco did a lot of bad things in their friendship and should absolutely be held accountable for it, but i also think simply calling her a heartless abuser is horribly undermining her character. like, imagine with me, if you will:

(post-writing note. HOLY SHIT this was way longer than i thought it'd be. putting the rest of this post under the cut because the previous paragraphs are pretty much all my thoughts but i kind of go into a full taco character analysis below. if you want to see that then keep reading i suppose LMAOOO)

you once accidentally formed a friendship with someone based off of a lie. you exposed the lie, sabotaged that relationship, and cut him off. that was the last conversation you had. a good while later you realize that, oh no, you actually DID care about this person, and you miss him! but he's GONE and it's YOUR FAULT!!! so you write. you write, you write, you write, hoping to get a response, but you never do.

and then. and then you find someone else. someone who's loud, chaotic, cast out. she reminds you a little too much of the lie you built for yourself. and so, you help her. for your own selfish reasons, sure, but you attempt to reign her in. she doesn't trust you at first, you don't trust her either, and you are... less than kind to her. it's not pretty, but at this point it doesn't really matter to you, because right now she's just a means to an end. she doesn't mean anything to you.

but slowly, over time, things start changing. she starts seeing past the brick walls you built around yourself. starts trying to break them down, little by little. you avoid, you resist, you do everything you can to prevent her from getting through, because vulnerability is frankly disgusting, and you don't want to talk about your problems anyway! but, this doesn't last. you actually apologize to her, for being so closed off, because you should be doing better, and she seems to appreciate it.

someone brings up that old friend to her. you get MAD. it's like rubbing salt in the wound, reminding you of every reason you're not happy, every reason you've been scared of getting too close. he suggests that you will leave her the same way you left him.

and. surprisingly. your ally does not side with him. she tells him you're changing. you're changing. she looks at you and all of your disgusting flaws, and she sees someone not beyond redemption. and you think that maybe. maybe you can trust her. maybe you CAN let your walls down. maybe you won't screw it up this time. and, and...

one mistake.

a pretty big one, granted, but a mistake nonetheless. you relapse into some bad habits, because the situation you entered was not the one you planned for. and she's mad. so mad, in fact, that she takes your old friendship, something she knows is a touchy subject, that hurts every time it's brought up, and she weaponizes it. she looks at you as if you mean nothing to her, and then she leaves. she leaves before you even have a chance to respond.

one. mistake.

one mistake is all it took for her to grow sick of you, for her to agree with all of the terrible things people say about you. and what hurts the most is that you TRUSTED her. you thought you could be open with her, you thought she was DIFFERENT. but no, she's not different. she's just like everyone else. and maybe, if the one person who believed you could be better gives up on you... maybe they're all right about you.

the walls are back up. they're thicker, stronger, and as far as you're concerned... it will take FAR more convincing to let anyone get through ever again.

...and then mepad comes along and says he doesn't even believe you're a bad person in the FIRST place, which is. astounding and very hard to believe but he's seeing you at your absolute worst being needlessly cruel to everyone and is STILL saying this with complete confidence so, fuck, kind of hard to keep THAT up for very long. then ii16 happens and you know the drill SHE'S DOING BAD.

hoo boy this went on for a lot longer than it was supposed to. anyway all this to say i think we should talk more about how they both hurt each other rather than push the narrative that one of them was "the abuser" and the other was "the victim" because frankly that's not even how it works in real life. thank you for coming to my ted talk i've been sitting on this for weeks afraid that i'd be told to kill myself over anons 👍

[eva-of-the-sea]

Y'all ever notice that Fujiko receives a disproportionate amount of hate in the fandom? I'm sure it's something we've all seen, especially if you're a fan of her, but I don't really see it discussed.

I'm bringing it up now because for the past couple of months, I keep running into new fans that are very vocal about disliking her. And while I understand that everyone has their preferences, the reasons they give for why they hate her bother me the most:

"She's a bitch, she's so awful to the poor guys and especially to Lupin."

"She's a slut. She's constantly using her body to get what she wants."

"She betrays the gang so much it's annoying how she always does the same thing."

"It's the writers' fault for making her so unlikable."

While I partially understand one of these points, some of these other ones confuse me.

Fujiko is a character that looks out for herself. She goes into every heist with the thought of "what can I get out of this?" And despite this, she's been shown many times to care about all of the gang. Yes, even in part 2 where folks usually base their hatred of her off of. This is because she is a multifaceted character that isn't just driven by a single motivation.

"But Jigen and Goemon hate her!"

Do they? Because while they do get mad at her shenanigans, we also see them going out of their way to protect her and comfort her. Hell, Fujigoe is a common canon occurrence! Do you really think Goemon would be dating her if he didn't like her? Or that Jigen would be pushing her out of the way of bullets or shielding her with his body if he didn't care about her? Being mad or annoyed with someone's actions aren't the same as hatred. No one ever points out how they get mad at Lupin, and I'd argue that happens more often!

And on the point of her being a slut...where? I'm genuinely confused with this one. Fujiko does use her beauty and charms both to manipulate rich men into giving her treasure and to get out of dangerous situations. That's kind of the point of her being a femme fatale. But how often does she sleep with the people she manipulates? Most instances I can think of, she knocks them out when she gets that far. In fact, I would argue she doesn't seem to be that interested in having sex at all. Do they count her flirting as being slutty? If so, c'mon. And even if she did sleep with her targets, why would this be a bad thing? Are women characters not allowed to have sex? And again, how come Lupin doesn't get the third degree for HIS sluttiness. In fact, I see people joke about it and celebrate it if anything.

On the point of her betraying gang, yeah it is very one-note and does get old. You know what else is very one-note? Literally the actions of every other character in the show. I don't see people complaining about Zenigata chasing the gang getting old. Or about Lupin flirting with every woman he sees. Or about Jigen and Goemon using the same weapons in the same way to get out of every situation. Y'know, maybe this is just a repetitive show! And tbh, the writing lately has been shaken up. The modern series doesn't really have Fujiko betray the gang much anymore. She's either off doing her own thing or she's working with the gang as a member of the team. A lot of people complain about parts 4-6, but I think this is one of the elements it does right.

And finally, on the note of "poor Lupin", I think this one pisses me off the most lol. The fuck y'all mean "poor Lupin"?? I think fans either forget or don't realize that Lupin is a pretty smart guy. He knows Fujiko is most likely going to betray him if he does something for her, the bastard LIKES IT. This is foreplay for both of them. In case you haven't noticed yet, both of them are kind of freaks lol. There's a reason that most of the time, Jigen and Goemon are mad at HIM. Lupin is not a poor sweet baby that needs protection from Fujiko. He specifically loves the chase, the constant push and pull of their relationship. She's an exciting challenge for him, he's a stable home for her.

While I agree that Fujiko has not always been written great in the past, and I'm sure a lot of that was due to misogyny, I think fans need to reevaluate why they criticize her more harshly than the rest of the gang. There's a lot of things she's done that the fandom deems unforgivable, yet the boys have done some of the same stuff without so much as a slap on the wrist. Lupin constantly puts them all in unnecessary danger. Jigen has made some really unsavory comments about women. Goemon has betrayed the gang more than once. And I don't see nearly enough discussion about how Lupin really used to push himself on Fujiko, to the point of it being uncomfortable sometimes. Like damn I'd sell his ass out too😬.

I think it all boils down to Fujiko being a woman. And as a woman, she has to work harder to please the fans. If she's too nice, then she doesn't really have a personality or a reason for anyone to like her. If she's too selfish, she's a mean bitch and everyone should hate her. What if people saw her as a character first? Because no she's not a good person, but neither are the rest of the gang. Their morals are all on a sliding scale of what works best for the plot. But damn she's a great character. She stands out on her own and really makes you remember her. She's so much more than "the girl" character, and I'm so grateful for that. I hope more fans come to this conclusion too.

[carleycore]

When they insult you (Kenma and Oikawa pt. 2)

A/N thank you all for the suggestions and support! The ideas came from @multi-fandom-fanfic !!

Genre: Hurt/Comfort (i think that’s right) 

Warnings: Mentions of eds, self deprecating thoughts and fluff

Part One 

(Kenma)

After you left he felt bad, he really did. But, he was still frustrated so he finished the stream and went to bed. Hoping you would’ve cooled down by then, but you hadn’t. You were fast asleep in the guest room with dried tears on your face.

The next day he apologized, you forgave him, and he thought that was the end of everything.

The only difference he noticed was how you seem more tired and less enthusiastic.

Before, you were more than happy to wedding plan, and it made him smile seeing how happy you were.

Now, every little thing was seeming to stress you out and you were gone a lot more.

Upon further inspection, he found out you had gotten a job.

“Y/N? Why did i find out that you were working at the new arcade downtown?”

“Oh,” you answered tiredly, “you wanted me to, you remember?”

And he did remember. And he felt horrible.

Somehow his fans knew too.

“What do you mean, what's wrong with Y/N?” he was reading his chats. His entire stream had comments flooded with questions about Y/N

Why isn't Y/N posting anymore?

Did you and your fiancee break up?

Y/N looks so tired recently.

And he knew they were right. Ending his stream he went downstairs and saw you crying on the couch. Looking from your phone to your computer like your life depended on it.

“Is... Is everything okay?” He asked, cuddling you.

“Yeah,” you sniffled, “just balancing school, work, and the wedding is a lot. It's getting overwhelming.”

“Y/N, I'm so sorry. I was just having a bad day and I took it out on you. I'm so so sorry my love.”

“It's okay, Ken. Just please, never do that again.”

“Noted, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

(Oikawa)

Oikawa didn’t apologize. He didn’t tend to. But, you didn’t need him to. You just carried on with your life, only difference was now you were working out more and eating less. 

And Tooru noticed. Complimenting on how beautiful you looked. He must’ve really thought you looked good as the very next day he informed you his friends were coming over for dinner. The same friends he saw in the store.

"Y/N you look beautiful!” Nami complimented, handing you a present filled with baby stuff.

“Thank you, I’ve been trying.” 

“You don’t need to work out,” she said seriously, “I wish I could gain some weight, I hate how disproportionate my body looks due to my bump,” She whined, as you both took a seat at the table.

“That’s nonsense dear,” her husband chimed in. You look amazing. 

That was the support you wished you got from your husband.

Especially now. You didn’t feel well at all.

You knew something was wrong.

And you were right. The very next moment you passed out on the table. 

Next thing you knew, you were lying on a hospital bed. 

“Oh my gosh, Y/N. I’m so happy you’re okay. I don’t know what I would’ve done if something happened to you or the baby.”

“You got really fucking lucky Oikawa,” Nami sneered, “she was starving herself because you talked about the way she looked while she’s pregnant with YOUR baby.”  

After making sure you were okay and slapping Oikawa Nami and Sato left. 

“Y/N- I-”

“Just save It Tooru. I don’t want to see you right now.”

“I-I know you’re mad at me. You have every right to be. Just know It’ll never happen again and I’ll never stop trying to get you to forgive me. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’m so, so sorry.”

I hope you guys enjoyed! More characters coming soon.

[fabled-lady-twilla]

Hi, I'm Twilla and I'm currently in the process of writing a ShigaDeku Dystopia/Soulmate AU fic that no one, and I mean literally NO ONE, asked for! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Why do I always join fandoms late and why do I always somehow end up loving/shipping the rarepairs in fandoms that barely anyone likes or wants to read about lmao? 🥺👉👈

I just finished reading the latest manga chapter, watched all six seasons, and binged all three movies. I am absolutely BURSTING with ideas of where I want this story to go. I want to at least post the first chapter by the time ShigaDeku Week 2024 is here next month. :)

In my fic timeline, the MHA canon story line doesn't happen until Class 1-A's third year, and since my story is set six years after their graduation, most of the main characters are in their mid to late twenties. My story starts after the Quirk Affliction, a strange illness that begins killing off Quirk-users all around to world, resulting in a massive a death toll that causes civilized society to collapse.

Anyways, here's the general synopsis:

The Final War was over before it had even begun. With the onset of the Quirk Affliction, a mysterious illness that disproportionately targeted the Quirks of heroes over the Quirks of villains, the world was left defenseless as it plunged into a new era of chaos and devastation.

It’s been six years since the onset of the Affliction and the death of All Might. Six years since the world’s heroes, and the society they desperately fought to protect, have crumbled into dust in Shigaraki Tomura’s hands.

From the ashes of this destruction, Japan’s new regime was born. The country was split into three territories, each with its own Grand Commander, united in nothing save for one singular rule: life for those who submit, and death for those who do not.

As Grand Commander of the largest and most plentiful of Japan’s territories, Shigaraki has lived the last six years reaping the fruits of his labors and taking pride in helping his Sensei accomplish his dream. But as of late, Tomura has been having strange dreams of his own: hazy memories of an abandoned park, of blooming wisteria trees, of laughter and freckles and forest green eyes.

Midoriya Izuku, now Quirkless due to the Affliction, has not stopped his pursuit of helping others, despite the world — and everything in it — turning itself upside down. Izuku dreams of a brighter future, and strangely enough, dreams of his long-lost childhood friend, Shimura Tenko.

The same Tenko that Izuku had unknowingly befriended as a young boy. The same Tenko who’d stopped him from jumping off the rooftop all those years ago. The same Tenko that, Izuku realized with horror, was now the monster known as Shigaraki Tomura.

Unfortunately, Izuku learns all too late that having a Soulbond with the King of Villains comes with a heavy cost. Shigaraki seems hell-bent on keeping Izuku as close to him as possible, believing Izuku to be his Soulmate, and thus, Shigaraki’s only true weakness, stirring up an ill-fated romance that neither has prepared themselves for.

As a new calamity encroaches upon them in the form of a mad man attempting to become a god, the heroes and villains must find a way to work together and solve the mystery of the Affliction before it destroys the world and everything they hold dear.

✨ P l e a s e ✨ let me know if you're interested in hearing about this by either, liking, reblogging, or sending me a PM. I'm working really hard to get the first chapter of this out by ShigaDeku Week 2024 in May!

Thank you so much for reading. 💚💚💚

[queermania]

im not the same anon but i think for me sometimes i get angry with dean because he has this expectation that cas owes him something like an explanation or to check in or a say in things that are none of his business. cas doesn't owe him any of that or anything at all really ig.

but... cas does owe dean something? that's a fundamental part of having and maintaining a relationship with someone. they're not strangers. they're friends, partners, allies, family. there's this common perspective that i don't really understand at all that dean just inexplicably gets frustrated with cas because cas doesn't ask dean's permission to do things. it's such a bad faith reading of the show to me and also just... not how relationships work? dean's not mad because cas does things without dean saying he can do them. he's mad because cas disappears for days/weeks/months/a whole fucking year at a time without checking in. because cas piles a bunch of stuff on his plate that he's not equipped to handle. because when it all goes to shit, which it inevitably does, someone else (read: dean) has to figure out how to clean up his mess. because friendship is a dialogue that cas often refuses to participate in while still expecting the benefits of the relationship. i'm not saying that dean never re/acts irrationally and/or disproportionate to a situation when it comes to cas but i am saying that it happens way more sparingly than fandom seems to think it does. cas does owe something to dean, common courtesy at the very least.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

I'm dying for a My Lady Jane fic of Stan Dudley doing things to try and get Frances Grey's attention. Just progressively more bold, more ridiculous, and more unhinged as he tries to get her to admit she likes him.

Yeah, this needed to happen. Good call. Thank you for the prompt!!

So, Hey, Check Me Out

Fandom: My Lady Jane Pairing: Stan x Frances Rating: T Word Count: 4837

Summary: The kingdom may be in turmoil, but so is the heart of one Stan Dudley! Kicked out of Frances Grey's bed before he's ever actually gotten into it, Stan's had enough. He embarks on a courtship designed to make the woman of his dreams truly see him for the first time, learning, along the way, that he's someone worth seeing.

When Stan Dudley was naught but a knee-high, flaxen-haired lad, his mummy and daddy would take him and his big brother Guildford to summer fairs. (This was before his happy childhood went tits-up and he cried in his nanny's arms while the wooden box he had been told contained his dearly departed and freshly embalmed mummy was shovelled over with mounds of uncaring earth. How he had wailed!) Anyway, he particularly enjoyed the puppet shows. He loved the bright fabric of the puppets' costumes, their gibbering voices, and the way they would spring up out of nowhere to make surprising announcements or play dirty tricks!

Despite his mummy's death, his brother being sent away, and what seems to him the disproportionately unfair amount of bullshit that's come his way since, Stan has never forgotten those puppets with their happy or sad painted grimaces (he could never tell). This is very fortunate, as their inspiration now stands him in good stead with the first real goal he's ever set himself: making Lady Frances Grey fall utterly in love with him.

Taking a page from the puppets' book (what a silly thought—puppets can't read!), Stan bedecks himself in colourful doublet and hose, then proceeds to pop up throughout Frances's day.

"This is a surprise," his lady love tells him when he accosts her at the juncture of two palace corridors.

"Yes! It's meant to be," he replies eagerly.

But then she turns away.

The same thing happens when he inserts himself into her routine twice more that day, and four more times the next: Stan gets the attention he desires with every fibre of his being, but only for as long as it takes for Frances to spot him, adopt an exhausted sort of expression, and turn away as though he's not even there. It's rather disheartening.

Fortunately, the sensation of being disheartened slips right off Stan Dudley like water off a swan's backside.

The thing is that he learned Frances's schedule. Now, an outsider might not expect the Queen's mother to have a schedule. After all, what is she? Not an official adviser or politician, not a servant or lady-in-waiting. In Stan's mind, Frances is capable of any of that—all of it!—but he's aware that, to others, Frances is just a particularly privileged, live-in member of the court. Alas, those people do not know dear Frances as he does. His clever vixen of a sometime-lover keeps herself as busy as a bee. (Coincidentally, tasting the output from the royal hives to ensure the highest standards of quality for the Queen's table is something Frances does at 10:00am sharp, every Wednesday.)

It was quite easy; Stan followed her around (at a respectful distance), watched her every move (respectfully), and committed it all to memory. He didn't take notes, of course. He isn't some sort of deranged stalker.

Thanks to the diligent study he's made of her movements, Stan is able to continue popping up in the places he knows she'll be, just exactly when he knows she'll be in them! The scheme is satisfying and effective... until the sweet lady begins altering the schedule to avoid him. But, ha HA! Stan bests her once more in this charming game they play; the erratic schedule is simply too annoying to Frances, who finds it impossible to get anything done, forced to structure her day around Stan's madness (madness? Perplexingly, it's the word he overhears her maidservants using) instead of completing her tasks at the most logical times. It turns out that the most defiant thing she can do is stick to the original schedule, which absolutely suits Stan down to the ground. Tremendous!

The great misfortune of his life (recently) is that putting himself in Frances's path is not and never has been enough—except that first night at Guildford and Jane's wedding; nothing makes sparks fly like a fistful of greasy meat and the chance to observe a blood relation's between-the-sheets tumble. No, now he must command her attention. He must compel her. He must engage her. Frances is so hot and cold in her carnal desire for him that Stan knows he cannot rely on something as novel as a decorative codpiece. (Though, should he maybe try... no. That time has passed.) She must at last be taught a difficult lesson: Stan Dudley is more than his penis!

—

He begins his war of rose-scented attrition in the evening. Frances can't flee from his dinner conversation without being horribly rude. Besides, the venison pie is not to be missed. Stan has to pull quite a few strings to get next to her (one is tied to the back of the chair meant for Margaret, and he earns a vicious look when her bottom strikes the flagstones), but he manages it.

"Do you like wine?" he inquires in a seductive tone.

Frances turns to him, expression already sour as though she expected to be irritated by the exchange. Wounding!

"Of course I like wine," she says. "Everyone likes wine."

"Oh, you slay me with your wit, Frances! Then I must tell you, I know of this spectacular vineyard in Italia and I've written, asking for a shipment."

Frances looks almost impressed.

"You're importing Italian wine? I shall look forward to—"

"So sorry," Stan chuckles self-deprecatingly. "Actually, no. I'm importing the grapes used to make the wine."

"The grapes? But why?"

"I'm so pleased you asked," Stan all but purrs, leaning in close to Frances for the big reveal. "It's so I can crush the grapes for your wine with my own feet! Doesn't that sound— Frances?"

Against all his expectations, and certainly contrary to good manners, she rises from her chair and, after a slight curtsy to Jane as she excuses herself, fucks right off out of the dining hall. Shocking, shocking behaviour! Stan is saying as much under his breath, having half-risen as he debates chasing after her, when vengeful Margaret kicks at his chair leg with all her might to send him sprawling.

"Yes, I suppose that's fair," he conceeds.

Margaret condescends to reach down and shake hands to prove their quarrel is done and there will be no hard feelings going forward.

—

Stan's next attempt is a do-over of something he tried before. That time, it was an unmitigated, meteoric failure which ended in Frances rejecting his proposal of marriage, and rubbing additional salt in the wound by telling him he's "just not husband material." He's since forgiven her her harsh words (she could not have meant them to be quite so brutal, his dove), and he's learned something besides. Reflecting, Stan was able to isolate a trio of criticisms from what Frances said to him: she does not appreciate grand gestures (maybe he should write back and cancel the import of foreign grapes), the nonsense about him not being husband material, and that she doubted his sincerity. She had the nerve, in fact, to tell him that he doesn't love her. Clearly, what's needed is a tasteful demonstration of his resolve, doing everything he did before almost exactly the same.

And so, he will serenade her once more.

Like any suitor who knows the odds might be against them and that it's therefore pretty critical to await the ideal circumstances, Stan takes his time picking just the right moment. He takes almost four hours. Then, bursting with urgency and armed with his lute, he slips into Frances's chambers. He's elected to pounce at night this time, and is pleased to see Katherine and Margaret are elsewhere. He shuts the door through which he entered so softly that Frances, seated doing needlepoint with her back to the doors, doesn't immediately notice his presence. Stan alerts her to it with a soft strum across his strings.

Frances jolts and twists round to fix her eyes upon him, which is when Stan throws her a reassuring wink. Her face says, Stan Dudley, why didn't you knock? His replies, Because you would have opened the door only to slam it closed again at the sight of my lute, you slippery thing!

Knowing he has not a second to lose, Stan clutches his lute like the lover he hopes Frances will again become hereafter, launching into the sweet melody he has composed for the occasion. He closes his eyes to ignore the rolling of Frances's and croons the first poignant lines to cover the sound of her objections. He hears her rise, but continues to sing. It's not until he feels her near him that he opens his eyes to deliver the rousing chorus:

"For I'm just Stan!" he belts. "Anyone else would see a man! Is it God's will for me to live and die the one unmarried Dudley? I'm just Stan! When I said, "Wife," she turned and ran. What will it take for her to see the lord behind these chords and marry me?"

"OUT!" Frances shouts above the sound of his moxie, of his pain. "I told you once already! You're only embarrassing us both!"

At that, Stan's expression softens.

"You do care," he interprets hopefully.

But then Frances is attempting to snatch the lute from his grasp, so he's forced to retreat. He contemplates persisting, picking up where he left off even with these heavy doors between them, or even returning to the spot in the courtyard from which he sang up at her window the first time. It's with a sigh that he admits to himself that, though he gave it two good attempts, he will not woo his love through song. Frances must just hate music. It's horribly sad for her, and, in lieu of his melody, she has his sympathies.

Unexpectedly, she is the reason his despair over this latest failed attempt to win her is quick to subside; the next day, before she spies him trailing behind her, lovelorn, he hears her humming the chorus.

—

With cautious optimism, Stan decides to proceed. He has a long list of tactics that he routinely reviews, adding on and scratching out with a zealous quill. The one he selects this time will require a little help to pull off.

His clever sister-in-law's court is positively crammed full of all the people who claim to know best regarding what to do about Ethians and national defence and tariffs and things of that nature, but upon his request, she invites some other types to court—artistic types. Stan narrows his eyes in competitive suspicion at the musicians before making the acquaintance of the painters. The second most important thing when commissioning artwork, Stan decides, is to peruse samples of the artist's work, but the most important thing is to find someone you think you'll be able to tolerate for the length of time it will take to sit for your portrait.

For it is a portrait Stan commissions. He selects his brush-twirling, paint-daubing fellow from the bunch and makes an appointment with him for a time when Frances is doing something particularly boring that he doesn't mind missing. In practically no time flat, the artist captures Stan in miniature. All his handsome features are accounted for. There! Would an unserious man commission a portrait of his own tiny face? Would someone who isn't "husband material" come up with such a thoughtful gift as having that miniature framed in a locket and left on the vanity of his heart's desire? No note accompanies his gift; he wants her to wonder about the gold locket's provenance, to drape it about her lovely neck as a mysterious token from an admirer.

When he comes upon her as she perambulates about the palace grounds, the gleam of gold immediately catches his eye. Stan tries to neither stare nor look too smug that Frances selected his quiet gift from amongst her many valuable baubles. He's burning with curiosity over whether she has yet unclasped the locket and studied the painted face within. It's a curiosity he doesn't hide well. By the by, he's very bad at cards.

"What are you looking at?" Frances asks, assessing him squarely.

Stan shoots his gaze skyward in a dramatic and ultimately ineffectual attempt at innocence. But his eyes were on the locket, and she knows it. With the blend of fear and horniness his precious Frances so consistently inspires in him, Stan watches her unclasp the locket and find the miniature concealed therein.

To his great delight and considerable relief, Frances laughs to discover his painted features.

"It's me!" Stan announces unnecessarily. "A fair likeness, wouldn't you say?"

"You had this made for me?"

"I hoped you might wear it close to your..." Stan chokes back the word "heart" and opts for one Frances might find more palatable, more descriptive of the narrow parameters she's placed on their relationship. "...breasts."

She glances up from the miniature, smirking.

"Alright," she says. "You may visit my chambers. But no lute."

—

Though he agreed to her terms without debate, Stan dislikes them. He feels undervalued by them, or perhaps incorrectly valued. He knows exactly what Frances has in mind: he'll come, she'll come, and then he'll be discarded once again. She is persistent, his pussycat, in treating him as a walking erection, useful for one thing only. He does so like to be useful to her in that way, but when they caressed each other's bodies that first time, he never imagined what he was experiencing was the furthest Frances ever planned for their encounters to go. It leaves him feeling slightly empty. He's always thought there would be more to love, since love it most definitely is.

Katherine catches him moping.

"You don't have to let her hurt you," she says, intuiting that her mother is the subject of his thoughts. "You have a choice. Not all of us are so lucky."

"She's still anti-William then? Goodness, that's a shame. You make an awfully cute couple."

Katherine gives him a half-smile. "Thanks, Stan."

"Even when she is cruel," Stan sulks, thoughts back on Frances, "I want her still."

"That's ridiculous." When he casts wounded eyes her way, Katherine sighs and takes pity. "You should stand up for yourself. If she still treats you like nothing after you've told her you know you're worth something, maybe you should think about ending it."

"Ending it? What, taking my own life?"

"Your infatuation with her."

"Oh." He considers this, not for the first time, but the first at someone else's prompting. It really is so much harder to end a relationship, he feels, when you get on with your girlfriend's family, and he knows, as difficult as Katherine's words are to hear, that she's trying to do him a good turn. "You know, she's invited me back to her bed."

"I neither knew nor wanted to know that."

"Makes it rather more challenging to be strong when she's on her knees—"

Katherine puts her hands up to stop him. "That's— Yes. Alright, Stan. Please, no details."

"I just wish I had some way of being strong in the moment, so that I might keep a clear head," he laments, dropping his chin into his hand.

She contemplates him a moment, then grins and says, "Come with me."

—

That night, Stan arrives at Frances's chambers empty-handed, but not unprotected. Thanks to Katherine, he has a trick up his sleeve—or rather, down his breeches. It could be, though, that he won't even need it. Perhaps, when Frances answers the door, the pair of them can sit down and have a real conversation about their feelings, then decide together if and how they want this relationship to progress in a way that does justice to each equal participant's expectations, needs, and five-year plan. Stan exhales a quick, readying breath and knocks.

The speed with which his darling Frances answers the door tattles on her longing for him. Though she may act aloof when they are in company, it serves her not! What she truly desires, what she pines for, is Stan Dudley: singer of songs, sitter for portraits, hero of the hour.

"My love!" he exclaims, closing the door swiftly behind him. "How I have—"

"Yes, Stan, nice to see you too," Frances says distractedly. Her gaze is fixed low as she throws open her dressing robe and flings it away. "Quickly now, breeches only, don't bother with the rest. I had thought you would be prompter."

In a huff worsened by the fact that Frances takes no notice of it, Stan thinks, Fine. He proceeds to do as she instructs. He sits in the chair she points to (god forbid he take her on the bed, like a real lover ought!), and unfastens his breeches like she tells him too. But he doesn't lower his drawers. No, he waits as Frances approaches, hikes the hem of her nightdress, and prepares to sit astride his lap. She stops with one knee braced on the chair.

"What's that?" she asks.

"What's it look like?"

"I can't bloody read it, Stanley. Get up."

This part might have felt a bit more rebellious, he reflects, if he hadn't sat down. She'd have seen the message clearly, straight off. Instead, he understands her difficulty; you can tell they're letters, but the words are rendered illegible by how the fabric gathers while he's seated.

Frances takes a step back and Stanley rises with dignity to display the message he decided upon—the message which his ally, Katherine, then embroidered onto the front of his underwear.

"'Mine eyes art up here,'" Frances reads out, then scoffs, shooting him a scornful glance. "Now, really, Stanley."

"Well, they are," he retorts. "And it's about time you took note of them! Or anything else up here!" He waves a hand next to his head. "My brain, for instance! I am a person, Frances, not merely a pleasure object!"

Frances sighs like she is deeply disappointed in him, and it doesn't feel good. Actually, it feels end-of-the-world levels of awful, especially when Stan is standing there in doublet and drawers, his breeches a sad, puffy pool upon the floor. He ought to have painted the message on a placard of some kind, or written it on a scroll he might have swept from inside his doublet with a flourish. With some fucking panache! In hindsight, delivering a message while half-undressed does slightly diminish its verve. But he must stand tall, breeches or no!

"What is it?" she asks tiredly, fixing the neck of her nightdress where it's slipped off her shoulder.

"I've just told you!" His shoulders sag a little. "Weren't you listening?"

"You're complaining that I don't want to fuck your brain," Frances summarizes dispassionately.

"I'm complaining that you don't LOVE ME, Frances!"

She appears confused by this.

"But I never have," she points out. She certainly is looking at his face now, assessing him as she questions, "Did you expect that to change?"

"Yes!" Stan cries out desperately. He yearns to approach her, to take her hands between his, but he must resist. "Yes, of course I did! I do!"

"Even when I told you otherwise? Really, how foolish." She chuckles.

Because he somehow believes she can't possibly make him feel worse than he now does, he battles on.

"Then consider me a fool for love, Frances, and consider that sort of fool a fool it's damn well worth being!"

"Though perhaps not worth me having," Frances replies cuttingly. "Do you forget, Stan, that I don't need you? You offer no political protection, no money—"

"I offer you more than those things! I am devoted, optimistic, kind to Katherine and Margaret—the latter perhaps on pain of death... Most importantly, I love you, Frances! I love you whether you will hear it or no."

"I don't believe in love!" Frances suddenly snaps, making Stan jerk back. "Not in a marriage, let alone whatever this is! Love is only in songs, and songs are lies composed by people with too much time on their hands."

"But I—"

"Yes, I know you did, you idiot. I was standing there when you sang it at me."

"But you enjoyed it!" Stan accuses.

"I did not!"

Bad luck her—he knows she's lying, and he says as much: "That isn't true. I heard you humming it. And if that's a lie, then how do you expect me to believe the rest of what you've said?"

"I will not coddle you," Frances states, striding up to him until they're almost nose to nose while she glares. "I have been nothing but honest—"

"I recommend that you be honest with yourself! Hmph!"

With that, Stan turns away from her. He grabs his breeches from the floor and redresses in an angry rush. Meanwhile, Frances just stands there, watching him with her arms crossed. She's so beautiful, so imposing. Gosh, he'd really like to... but no! Stan grits his teeth and heads for the door. Without looking back, he says, "The locket looks lovely, by the way. Noticed you're still wearing it."

—

It's misery without her. What's the good of living in a palace if you can't even enjoy the tapestries and the sumptuous suppers and saying, "You missed a spot," to a guard after inspecting the patchy shine on his armour? All the colour has gone out of Stan's world. It's as though the curtains are parted on the theatre, but the puppets lie limp upon the stage.

Of course, she's easy to avoid. Because he knows Frances's schedule, there's little possibility of them bumping into one another. His days are suddenly wide open. He dedicates his new free time to openly weeping in the corridors and, in a weak moment, attempting to sneak into Frances's chambers to pilfer some small item to remember her by. Maybe even the locket he gave her, because he's sure she isn't wearing it anymore. Unfortunately, this pathetic mission is foiled by her door being locked. Just like her heart! More weeping follows.

He's sure he's being pitied by those who care to notice his suffering, but he refuses to speak about it. He only wants to speak to Frances. But he doesn't. But he does.

The only time he can't avoid her is during family mealtimes. Then, he declines to take the pains he once did to sit near her. He remains next to his father, who will say a low-effort comfort phrase like "There, there," and even that will sometimes set Stan off, forcing him to excuse himself for more sobbing against the unfeeling stones which echo his grief right back to him (and sometimes to people at the opposite end of the corridor—the accoustics are terribly odd).

Stan knows there are things afoot at the palace, that larger wheels turn around him—him, the forgotten cog. And yet he seems to be essential for nothing. When he had Frances, well, he knew he was wanted, and exactly what for. How is he supposed to figure out which side of the Division Laws issue he's meant to be on, which side of the political aisle, when he can't even tell where he stands with Frances? He misses her. He can't help it. Mealtime glimpses will not sustain him.

Events conspire to keep them apart. At first apart because, for once, it is he who cannot tolerate the sight of her; she has duped his pig-headed, horse-bodied brother into going off to his death with one of the Ethians who came to Jane's lovely coronation banquet. Not much later, apart because the whole kingdom seems to be going that way, like one big breakup with the crown a-teeter at the place where the ground has split. It's chaos. Stan frequently wishes Frances's crime were a forgivable one so that they might have each other while the world goes to hell, but that's impossible. There is no clemency for sending to his death the big brother who once sat beside him before cavorting puppets. They buried the same mother.

The revelation that Guildford is alive is too short-lived. He is missing, presumed dead one moment, then there inside the safe house with Stan and their father the next, then gone again, bravely determined to rescue his wife, who's about to die—definite, not presumed. Stan feels like a fraud and a cad next to this display of loyalty. How did he ever leave Frances! How did he ever mistrust her! Actually, there are very good answeres for both of those questions, but since Stan's best plan at his own romantic reunion starts with drinking rather a lot, the circumstances of their rift grow fuzzy. He only knows he needs her. He will go to her at once!

He will go to her when the opportunity presents itself!

In the end, he goes to her plated in armour, while the bonfire burns and bird-people swoop from the sky, while (Queen?) Mary shrieks and Guildford's gallops disappear into the night as he takes Jane to safety, just as he vowed he would. In the smoke and the sound, Stan finds Frances. She appears astounded to see him. He was hoping for impressed, so it's a bit of a let-down, but at least he's had an effect. She's underestimated him for the last time!

Ideally, Stan would like to take Frances in his arms and plant such a kiss upon those lips as all who bear witness are changed, and peace spreads throughout the kingdom. Regrettably, it's bad timing. He ushers Frances, Katherine, and Margaret away instead, protecting them while they wend their way through the conflict. There isn't time to say much. He finds them horses—one for Frances, another for Katherine and Margaret to share—and gives a promise that he and his father won't be far behind. What else would they do? See the fight out to the end? Preposterous! They may be heroic now, but they aren't die-for-the-cause dunces. While sticking around long enough might get Stan extra glory, it would also doubtlessly get him executed. There may be salvagable logs from Guildford's fire, and that basket they put down to catch Jane's head? Not yet sodden with the blood of a beheading.

Stan knows the Greys will be returning to the palace. He mounts up, intending to follow them.

"The safe house, Stan," his father tells him, but Stan shakes his head. "Stanley, you cannot go back to the palace. Frances and the girls may be safe there, depending on how things shake out, but you, my boy, are the brother of an Ethian. You are no special favourite of Mary's. You have no bargaining chip! If you were caught—"

"I must go," Stan interrupts. He gives his father a heartfelt nod. "I hope to see you anon."

And Stan rides. Apparently not as well as the Greys, with whom he never catches up, but he rides with battle at his back and hope before him. He doesn't feel like a jilted lover or a second son or a superfluous courtier, just Stan. As the son rises, it feels like a damn good day to be Stan.

—

He sheds his armour—clanking, tripping—on the way from the stables to Frances's chambers. The corridors are empty of guards, all rallied to Mary's side in London. Even if they were here, Stan believes he'd barrel straight through their crossed pike shafts; he's caught up in his own perpetual motion, unable to stop or slow. There's only Frances and the distance between them. When he reaches her doors, he throws them wide instead of knocking.

She turns and sees him, she sees him and says, "You love me."

"You believe me now?"

Frances nods, seeming almost speechless until she says, "Yes."

Cocking an eyebrow, Stan swaggers towards her. "Anything else to say?"

"I don't love you," Frances begins, "but I like you, Stan. I really do." And from her bosom, she extracts the locket he gave her, letting it rest against her bodice. "See?"

It isn't the utter besottedness he's dreamed about. It isn't the legendary romance of Lancelot and Guinevere, or hell, even the surprisingly successful arranged marriage of Guildford and Jane. But Frances is finally being honest with them both, and her heart has told her that he, Stanley Dudley, is pretty darn alright. He's enough.

"I do see," he says, placing his hands on her waist. "And I'd love to see it be the only thing you're wearing."

Frances smirks in understanding. "I have missed you, you know."

He bites the air playfully in her direction, and Frances hums in anticipation, tipping her face up towards his.

"Ah!" He halts her. "I have one condition."

"Yes?"

"The bed this time, Frances. I've more than earned it."

She studies him coolly. "I believe you have."

At last, Stan kisses her, holds the tempestuous force of her in his arms. The outside world is in shambles, but his inner world is a haven. He is Frances's lover. He is a child, skipping towards the fair.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA because I accidentally "liked" an acquaintance/friend of a friend on a dating app? And now I don't want to talk to him anymore based on the way he reacted?

(Sorry if this is overly complicated)

I (29M) had only met this guy (36M) - I'll call him Ben - once or twice. He's like a family friend of my best friend. He had just moved to the area and was struggling with his mental health, apparently. My friend's mom asked us to "treat him like family" which I had no problem with, because it seemed like we got along well. I was hoping we could become friends. Obviously nothing more because I barely knew him.

Next time I saw Ben, he was not as friendly as before. I thought he might have been ignoring me on purpose, but I often misinterpret things like that (I am autistic), so I put it out of my mind.

Then saw him a week or two later at a party. Sat next to him at a table, said hi and asked how he was doing, etc. He didn't even look at me. Gave me a very cold one-word answer and immediately got up and went to the other side of the room. Spent the whole party at least 20ft away from me, but seemed friendly enough with other people.

Afterwards I told my friend I felt like Ben didn't like me, and asked if he noticed me doing or saying anything offensive, and he had no idea, so again I just let it go. But a couple weeks later, Friend's Mom told him that there IS a reason for that behavior, and that's because I liked his profile on a dating app and "he doesn't feel the same way at all because he's gay and likes men".

This upset me for a lot of reasons - first off I am transmasculine and do consider myself a man even if it's a little complicated - but mainly because I didn't remember seeing him on any dating app. I also thought it was overkill to act that way towards someone just because they might be interested in you? If I thought someone wanted to date me, but didn't feel the same, I don't think I'd be mad at them?? I feel like his reaction was a little childish and dramatic.

Possible asshole behavior from me: on dating apps I tend to like every profile that isn't objectively terrible. Because I'm bad at judging how much I'll like a person based on a few pictures and a short bio. Sometimes I don't really pay attention and like every single one of them and unmatch the ones I decide I don't vibe with after a closer look (or messages exchanged). That's...probably why I don't remember. I was barely paying attention.

My friend told me he thinks it's an asshole move to like everyone before closely reading bios and thinking it through, and I guess I see his point. But on the other hand I feel like Ben was disproportionately rude - like I can't help but be slightly offended it's that terrible to imagine I might be interested. (And I am not btw. I never have been.)

I didn't have his number so I asked my friend to let him know I'm not actually interested & must have accidentally swiped. I'm told he apologized and said he was "going through stuff" but we never talked directly and I haven't seen him since. So it feels very much unresolved to me.

I told Friend's Mom I will not be attempting to befriend him anymore - I'll be civil of course, but I'm keeping more of a distance. Apparently she was upset by this, and originally didn't tell me OR my friend why he was acting like that towards me - because she thought I might not want to talk to him anymore, and she didn't want "friction".

I guess what I'm asking is AITA for 1) not paying close enough attention on dating apps, and/or 2) not letting it go & pretending nothing happened after I was told he apologized - therefore causing "friction" between everyone?

What are these acronyms?

[queerfables]

My impressions of 911, as at the end of 1x04:

So far I like the show a bunch!

I'd heard Buck starts out as a bit of a jerk but so far he's been a likeable one. It helps that there are (very nearly) consequences for his more outrageous behaviour.

I like Abby and Buck for each other but Abby as a character is appallingly under utilised. I feel like her role as a 911 operator underpinned the entire PREMISE of the show and yet it only took one episode for them to realise they didn't know what to do with her. She's also just... not a super compelling character? Maybe she'll get more interesting, I'm mostly mad because I think the concept is really solid but I'm not sold on the execution. The big problem with her personal life is that she doesn't have one, so it drags a bit when we spend so much time with her outside her job. At this stage I'm unsurprised she left after the first season, just because it feels like they don't quite know how to write for her.

I love Athena and oh boy is she doing it tough but I desperately need her to not use her power as a police officer to harass teenage girls. What the girl bullying her daughter did was terrible but she was still waaay out of line.

Related though, something I like about this show so far is that the characters' strengths are also their weaknesses. Buck is impulsive in ways that are good and bad; Abby is caring and empathetic, sometimes to a fault; the passion and assertiveness that makes Athena out of line with her daughter's bully is the same thing that makes her great at standing up to the assholes who deserve it. It's good character building.

I also like that characters are allowed to do shit bad enough to actually warrant censure from higher ups. And then receive appropriate condemnation for their behaviour. Often when shows try to do that kind of story line they go too soft on the characters either by over justifying why their bad behaviour is understandable or by having the consequences be wildly disproportionate to the wrongdoing in a way that makes them feel like the victim. So far 911 seem to be be striking a pretty solid balance on trusting the audience to empathise with the characters even when they do bad things and get called out by the narrative for those things.

I don't think the show has killed any kids yet, which I'm grateful for but also wary about. I'm betting they're saving that up for a real gut punch of an episode. I already cried over the mother in the plane who DIDN'T die?? If there are any big Kids Dying episodes I should watch out for maybe let me know. (I'm already aware of the basics of Bobby's backstory, though)

[watermelinoe]

are you really truly outraged that a pop star who peaked in the late 90s lost a poll like dawg Britney is one of my favorites and I've never heard of whoever the fuck in my life but do you think maybe it could be a miracle anyone still talks about Britney literally at all

outraged is not the word i'd use but it is irksome to me every time this website reminds me that mediocre men are celebrated over iconic women yeah?

and like... she was releasing charting singles into the 2010s and people were talking about her conservatorship up until 2021. marina referenced how the public treated her in a song that came out in 2020. she's a usamerican pop culture icon both because of her career and her publicity. i'm not even a huge fan but i don't really get this, i made one post annoyed about the poll and then answered someone else's ask about it, did i seem disproportionately mad?

[thethirdromana]

Trying to figure out which Star Trek TOS character would have been each one of the crew of light's fave if they lived then. I thought of Mina liking Bones best due to his practicality and foresight, who though is like Van Helsing in having specialist skills as physician, technician, psychologist etc. Do you have personal opinions for that?

Thanks anon, I love this question <3

I'm including Lucy, not least because I think she's the easiest one to answer. It's Uhura. From the first real interaction she has in the series onwards:

"I'm an illogical woman who's beginning to feel too much a part of that communications console. Why don't you tell me I'm an attractive young lady, or ask me if I've ever been in love? Tell me how your planet Vulcan looks on a lazy evening when the moon is full." "Vulcan has no moon, Miss Uhura." "I'm not surprised, Mister Spock."

I just think Lucy would really dig this woman who's pretty and romantic, but who also has a vital professional role. Lucy wants more freedom and doesn't get it, and Uhura is a great example of someone not having to choose between femininity and career.

For Mina I think it has to be Spock. I mean partly that's just statistical likelihood, if you were a young woman in the 1960s you were disproportionately likely to like Spock, but I think in her case his logic, his intelligence and his outsider status would all appeal.

Jonathan is a lot trickier to answer. We know he likes competent women, he's a bit of a romantic too and he responds to kindness. Perhaps he's another Uhura fan, or maybe Nurse Chapel.

Another easy one is Arthur who just has to be a fan of Kirk. Stalwart hero 4 stalwart hero. He's dashing, he's handsome. Arthur doesn't know whether he wants him or wants to be him.

Quincey is another Kirk fan, obviously, but I think after The Naked Time, he's also a fan of Sulu. It's the swashbuckling that does it. He's disappointed that there isn't any more fencing in TOS.

I think I might make myself unpopular with this one but for Jack I would suggest Khan. Genetically modified superintelligence and the ability to charm beautiful women both seem like the kind of things that Jack would be into. He is the mad scientist, after all. This is alongside Kirk, obviously, given that Jack is Dracula's number one Manliness Appreciator.

Van Helsing is probably another Spock fan. I think he would also love the Romulan Commander played by Mark Lenard in Balance of Terror (I didn't realise until now that that character never even got a name). There's something in that theme of respect for a worthy adversary that I think Van Helsing would really vibe with.

[greenerteacups]

Since you're in the midst of writing what will surely be The Ultimate Gryffindor!Draco fic seems only fair to ask: what are your thoughts about Slytherin!Hermione?

I really love the concept. I think Hermione is one of those characters who's multifaceted enough to succeed in any house, because she's so dynamic and rich. Her ambition makes it easy to envision why Slytherin would (or should want her) — I would say better Slytherin than Ravenclaw (as is often the alt-sort for her, if not Gryffindor) because her love of knowledge is very goal-oriented, and she seems to get really irritated with the kind of abstract theorizing and musing that Ravenclaws do. (Consider how mad pissed she gets whenever Luna starts doing Luna Things, for instance.) If it weren't for the blood purity problem, I would say that she would do pretty well in Slytherin — of course, that's going by personality alone, and neglecting the way that Houses both take into account history, culture, preference, and eventually come to shape those inside them. When you take those things into account, the case is harder to make, because one has to imagine a situation where (a) the blood thing doesn't matter, which is possible but unlikely, and (b) Hermione as she is in first year would willingly be sorted into the House that's known for producing Dark Wizards at worst and uncomfortably cutthroat types at best (I'm not even going to touch the whole "Merlin was a Slytherin" thing, because the timeline on that does not fucking work and jesus God I cannot deal with it.) That's not to say all Slytherins are bad; rather, it's to say that part of the reason most Slytherins are heritage and legacy picks is because the only first years who are willing and eager to join it are disproportionately from certain families. The composition is probably one part selection bias and one part actual bigotry.

Plus: Hermione is an idealist. Especially in her younger years, she cares desperately about the rules and doing things The Right Way, even when it hurts her or her friends. Her ambition is there, of course, and it really blossoms in later books. But it's ambition directed at progress and idealistic achievement, not personal betterment or power. Remember that in Book 7, it's Hermione who chooses the Cloak, the humblest Hallow, not the Wand or the Stone, which are Ron and Harry, respectively — perhaps suggesting that Ron, not Hermione, is the most Slytherin of the group. And Hermione doesn't want to go after the Hallows in the first place; the idea of mastering death doesn't appeal to her. She doesn't want to rule the world, she wants to save it.

Put differently, do I think our Hermione has a lot of the virtues and vices that Slytherin represents? Absolutely. Super does. Could be a great Slytherin, and if you gave her seven years to cook, I think you'd have a banner Slytherin at the end of it. I think some stories explore that premise fantastically well, especially in the context of re-sortings, which tend to take seriously the role of House in shaping character instead of merely reflecting it. But do I think that an eleven-year-old Hermione, as we know her from canon, would ever get sorted into Slytherin House? I mean... it's about as likely as Draco getting sorted into Gryffindor, isn't it?

[roguetelepaths]

Conjecture: Neurodivergent people tend to have much stricter and more authoritarian parents, and tend to suffer disproportionately from the consequences of that.

Like I wonder how much ADHD and similar neural wirings that present with Impulse Control Issues™ (I'm a demand-avoidant Autistic/possibly AuDHD person and this is mostly based on my personal experiences and those of people I love) are compounded by the fact that having your actions externally policed and restricted is known to make you fucking allergic to discipline. Obviously it's not the only factor but it seems like it's a big one.

It's the stereotypical thing about how people with strict parents will leave home and spend their entire college career partying like mad because no one's looking over their shoulder so they can finally have fun, except it never. Fucking. Ends. And it's not self-sabotage the way one would usually describe it— you don't want to make yourself feel bad, you aren't aiming to crash and burn, you just have only ever encountered the concept of discipline in the context of externally imposed restriction and surveillance. You've never been allowed to gain hands-on experience of how developing control over your actions can actually improve your life— it's only ever made your life worse, actually, because control over your actions has only ever been externally imposed upon you by people who had absolutely no interest in cooperating with you and would rather assume their own methods work for you when those methods probably barely even work for them. Which is a difficult enough thing to overcome for a person who mostly presents as neurotypical but it's even more difficult when your brain is literally working against you being able to develop the ability to think before you act and regulate your own emotions in the first place.

[burr-ell]

Here's the thing: I get why people are frustrated by the fandom response to Essek's appearance. I too am tired of C2 announcements/reveals/cameos overshadowing everything as a sheer popularity contest. I'm tired of "Well C1 is good but C2 is GREAT/sure we've only had a couple arcs of C1 animated but WHAT ABOUT THE MIGHTY NEEEEEIIIIIIN". I'm sure C3 fans have seen a lot of C3 criticism that just amounts to "This isn't like C2, which was perfect and inimitable and godlike in every way, which is why this sucks and is for plebs", and they're sick of it. Like, I GET it.

But that doesn't change the fact that C2 is in fact a good story and the Nein are good characters! The cast clearly loves it the same way they love C1 and 3, and they love Essek in particular.

I am by no means a "well the cast likes it so be happy and eat your broccoli" type—I have criticized choices they've made before and will continue to do so—but I think it's worth noting that a lot of people I've seen getting disproportionately mad about this have also used the cast's enjoyment of things they like as a shield against any criticism. This has been a problem in this fandom for a long time, but it bears repeating: things you like are "well the cast likes it and did it intentionally!" and things you don't like are "I can't believe this thing just sort of happened and now we all have to deal with it!".

For many of those who dislike Essek's presence, it's not being treated as an intentional choice Matt made that the cast was really excited about. Instead, the anger has, for all intents and purposes, manifested as if this was impressed upon the narrative by an unseen external force, the same way people get mad about writing decisions in a book or TV show. I can appreciate people at least being honest about what they don't like, but the sheer vitriol here is something I tend to associate with the treatment of executive producers or corporate suits, rather than original artists who are intimately involved with the storytelling...and the agency of those original artists in making this choice seems to be quietly ignored.

The cast of Critical Role have repeatedly said that they're like family to each other, and we know they talk with Matt about their characters' directions outside the game. If they thought things were moving too fast for their characters to talk to each other, or they didn't like all the past campaigns being brought in, I think they'd be comfortable enough to say something about it. You're free to dislike Essek, or to like him but dislike the fandom response to him—but I think it's important to acknowledge who, in the real world, made and enjoyed this choice first and foremost, and ask yourself whether or not that's something you can live with as part of the narrative or if maybe this just isn't for you.