#and yeah I've been this way long enough that I'm starting to realize a perfectly cleaned home feels very sterile.

[kuromi-hoemie]

hey younger ppl who grew up with strict parents, i want to share something really lovely with you that i didn't really learn myself until this year.

you do NOT have to clean ur house when u have guests over. like yeah pickup anything particularly embarrassing but have you not felt more welcomed, happy and cozy when you visited a friend's home and saw Stuff everywhere? is it not more inviting to enter a home that looks and feels very Lived In? do you not feel self-conscious about contributing to any sort of mess in a home so clean and organized it feels sterile?

Don't feel the need to keep this weird facade ingrained into us that your place needs to look perfect in order for you to hang out - just invite people over! Let them see what you're about, let the Environmental Storytelling™ do some work! i promise you it's very charming being able To See what you do and enjoy.

it took way longer than it should've for me to accept this and it's been GREAT. i don't dread the deep cleaning that having a guest used to entail because nowhere near that amount of work is necessary to hang out anymore - and I think everyone deserves to know that they don't have to work so dang hard for something that's really so so simple.

[juneberrie]

FROM THE START ✿ p. prabhakar

— confess i've loved you from the start . . .

-> angst to fluff, 0.8k words, fem ! hispanic ! reader

pavitr prabhakar had always been a ray of sunshine. he was always affectionate with his friends and family, always smiling and laughing.

it was that smile that made you fall in love first. the first day you had seen him, you were eleven years old. you had been sitting alone at recess on the swings, watching every other kid run around the playground. a boy had come up to you and smiled.

"do you want me to push you?" he offered. he looked about your age, with brown eyes and shiny hair that fell perfectly into place. your heart skipped a beat and you nodded.

as he pushed you, he laughed and asked what your name was.

"y/n," you replied. "i just moved here."

"really? that's so cool! i'm pavitr prabhakar, and i've lived here my whole life." you could practically hear the smile in his voice.

after that, you two had become inseparable. your family loved him and his auntie absolutely adored you. the two of you spent hours together working on homework, laughing at inside jokes, teasing each other out of love. it seemed that his love was more on the platonic side though, compared to the way you felt towards him.

it was as if every time he talked to you, cupid would waltz into the room, nock an arrow, and aim directly for your heart. there were times that you felt like you had to tell him how you felt. how the light catching in his eyes, turning them to melted gold, made you want to pull him close. how the way he laughed was so charming you were sure any fairytale princess would have ditched her prince for him.

and sometimes, sometimes it felt like he might feel the same. the lingering touches, the way he gazed at you, the way he always was there for you.

but soon enough you realized that the longing gazes weren't meant for you.

too often you glanced behind you to see her. gayatri singh. now, you had nothing against her. she had been partnered up with you multiple times for projects, and she was incredibly nice. she was caring and smart, and she was gorgeous. it seemed like the whole world knew it. including pav.

one night, the two of you were sitting on the roof of your apartment building, eating some empanadas your mother had made.

you and pav had been sitting in a comfortable silence for a while, chewing on the delicious food, when he swallowed hard and asked you something.

"you're good with advice, right?" he glanced at you, and your heart skipped a beat.

swallowing, you shrugged. "depends on the kind of advice you want."

he put his plate down next to him, and you could see him start to fidget with the hem of his shirt. "so. uh. theres this..." he paused, taking a breath and exhaling into the starry sky. "there's this girl."

it took every ounce of your willpower not to express your disappointment. "oh?"

"yeah," he chuckled softly. "she's... the most amazing person i've ever known. and you know, i want to ask her out, but... i don't know if she'd say yes."

your heart sank down into your stomach and kept sinking till it reached the core of the earth. "well, i mean, why wouldn't she say yes?" you forced yourself to smile and playfully nudged his shoulder with your own. "any girl would be lucky to have you, chamo."

"that's the thing. she's just so incredible and i don't think.. i don't think she feels the same about me. ever since i met her i've had this big crush on her... she's so freaking pretty and smart and witty and kind and just." he sighed, reaching up to tug on a strand of his hair, a nervous habit that he'd picked up when he was thirteen.

you blinked back tears. without thinking, you took a sip of your drink and blurted out, "it's gayatri, isn't it?"

his head whips around to face you, big brown eyes wide. "gaya- gayatri? no! why would i have a crush on her?" he stammered. "i mean, she's great and all but... she's not.. it's not her."

you turned away, staring down at the traffic below. cars filled up every inch of the road, lights reflecting off of all the surrounding buildings. "oh... i thought it was her," you murmur. you feel pav's hand cover your own.

"y/n," he whispers. "look at me." slowly, heart pounding, you turn to face him.

your lips are centimeters apart. your gaze flickered to his soft looking lips and back up into his beautifully dark eyes.

"it's you. it's always been you," he breathed.

"me?"

"you. from the start, it was always you."

[fractualized]

hi I sent that last ask and I appreciate you so much. I love how chill you are. I love that you speak up and aren't afraid of others people's opinions of you -- because you talking about that helps me realize exactly what you were talking about about.

my critical online space that shaped my brain was Tumblr growing up, much in the same way reddit or 4chan or anything else was for others, and as positive as it was and as much as I stay here, there were some HEAVY years of thought policing and performing perfectly at all times and I really think it fucked with my head!

not to trauma dump, but the way it related to starting off by policing each other in fandom just happened to spill into every other aspect of my life too. every thing is black and white. every interaction is perfect or you are flawed and not worth anything at all. people literally judging you off stupid fandom shit behind a fake name dressed up in sparkles and curiosity was enough to call you a monster who deserved to be alone. the fuck??

from fandom cops telling me that portrayals of fictional characters in my head were an actual meter that we can base if we're deserving of human connection made me think about what ELSE could be important. aren't there things a little more pressing than fictional characters?? the words I use. the way I behave. move my face. micro express, leave pauses in sentences, judged by everything! I've been taught that the LITTLEST OF INDICATIONS OF HUMANITY were going to be the death of me. I couldn't exist. all because of fictional themes that creators are allowed to make, but fans are not allowed to enjoy unless it's the "right way". even though the people CREATING it are also exploring it. rules for thee but not for me.

it's gross. I felt like a monster and when the only other people who are kind to you are monsters, it really makes you wonder why fandom cops find themselves so much morally superior to others 👹

People have told me I'm chill before and I'm always like, "excellent, they can't tell I'm yelling on the inside." 😂

Sometimes I wonder if I would be different if the show Heroes hadn't ended as such a clusterfuck. And by that I mean that my experience with that show ended on such a sour note, I wound up drifting away from fandom for 5-ish years. And it wasn't because of the Heroes fandom itself! It was because by the end I was hate-watching the show, and that kind of headspace is just no good. I wasted too much energy being mad at something that wasn't going to improve, and my other fandom interests weren't strong enough for fic, etc. I still lurked here and there, but otherwise I focused on life stuff.

At the point I left, tumblr was popular but I was still a livejournal (and journalfen) holdout. As a result, I was simply absent during the most intense tumblr years. I have a general idea of what it was like from everyone's descriptions, but from my point of view, five years passed, Telltale Batman: the Enemy Within came a-calling, I started writing fic again, and uhhhhh things sure were different.

Not entirely for the worse. For one thing, as someone who unavoidably grew older, yeah, I do keep in mind that there are children running around these parts. The increased focus on tagging your work is also good, so people can avoid what they don't want to see. And it's just always been a good general rule to be mindful when getting into sensitive topics, and I was seeing more of that.

Buuuuuuuut yeah, with that it seemed like "don't like; don't read" was out, and witch hunting was in. Some slight mistake might indicate you were actually one of the Bad Ones all the long! And everyone must know! I mean, there's always been fandom police, but fandom's mainstreamification definitely made it worse for a host of reasons. And I actually was unnerved by it for a while, even though the Enemy Within finale had me indulging in fluff. I was probably safe-- but then again who knows what blunder or improper deference to a sensitive subject could bring a swarm of strangers!

But eventually I was fluffed out, and chatting batjokes with people was giving me new ideas that would have me explore and indulge in (gasp) darker ideas. And by that point I was just like, I'm a freaking adult. I tag my shit. I'm here to have a good time with people I like, not worry about a bunch of randos who probably get as much anxiety making a cold call as I do. And yeah, why are fans supposed to be judged on a different metric than the creators?? I'm going to do what I want!

And with that rallying cry… I mean, nothing ever happened. 😂 Not the first time I've built up worries in my head for nothing.

I can see it taking me longer to get to that point if I'd fully marinated in the thought policing, though. I think people get that instinct because of the age-old lack of control elsewhere in life (especially nowadays, with all the… everything). Surely if someone can get everyone in their orbit to behave in just this way, then at least things there will be okay. Nothing bad will happen! (It's not as if rigid mindsets hurt people and their relationships, or performatively good people still do atrocious things. No, surely not.)

I don't have a good closing, so here's an Reno 911 icon from the old days:

[gr1an]

(character-wise) joel and gem are such an interesting duo/couple like. on their own, no outside forces acting on them, they remain separate entities. interacting occasionally. but i feel like an outside stressor force could make them fast and strong allies.

we kind of saw this with the start of real life smp, with gem and joel kind of falling together bc she didn't do third life and joel didn't have allies in third life, and everyone else kind of just stuck with their original team-ups. and it's very interesting to think about how when joel was with her he like. he was very vulnerable just bc of how sick he was and she saw it and adapted immediately. he told her as soon as he realized he had a fear of heights and she, as far as i remember, didn't bring it up or tease about it again. and then when they separate he goes to jimmy's team. safe person.

in a stressful situation (i'm talking like. disaster level here. apocalypse.) joel falls into bad habits of pushing people away and acting above it all, and gem will not let him get away with that. she knows joels façade is a façade, and he knows that she knows this. she is also smart enough to know that confronting him about it in front of anyone other than maybe lizzie or jimmy is the fastest way to get burned by him being a bitch.

he's a very... nervous person. his defense mannerisms are like a cornered animal's, and he gets that way very easily. but once you understand that what you're dealing with is a cornered animal, you know how to approach the situation. so this is the first barrier to fall in their relationship.

and gem deflects like a goddamn mirror. it makes the second barrier of their relationship to fall, and it takes a long time to get there. because when you bring up how she's been working for days straight, she will look at you with perfectly done hair and a smile on her face and say "thanks for caring about me, i'm all good though! but i noticed you were struggling with terraforming this bit, can i help?" and almost make you believe that maybe her biology just works differently and she doesn't need sleep or rest. but she does.

and only people that are particularly stubborn (pearl, grian, and now joel) will ever be able to get her to do anything close to the resting part of self-care.

sorry this is kind of just a whole bunch of nothing other than comments about patterns i've noticed but yeah.

[silver138]

Perfectly Flawed - Chapter 3

word count - 1.4k

warnings - cursing, bad flirting attempt?

Summary: Lina (tries) to flirt.

Waking up before my alarm for a change, I get out of bed take a shower, and dress. After putting on my makeup and straightening my hair, I grab the first two books of The Dresden Files and toss them into my bag. "You're up early. You that excited for work, Lina?" I turn and see Val in the doorway to her room, yawning and scratching her head. I just shrug and smile at her. "If you give me, like, 20 minutes, I can take you to work today..." she starts, turning around to walk back into her room.

"Ah, no, that's ok! I-I don't mind taking the metro! It-it's...kinda nice..." I say quickly. She stops and turns around, walking towards me with a smirk on her face.

"OK, spill it, who is he?" she says, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"I-I don't know what you mean, Vallie. Can't I just be in a good mood...and-and want to take public transportation? OK, yeah, that sounded lame, even to me..." I mutter.

She raises her eyebrows and says, "Well, I'm glad you realize what you said was bullshit. Anyway, the guy?"

"I-I...why do you think I like someone? Isn't it possible I've just made a bunch of friends, and that's why I'm excited?" I offer.

She snorts and says, "While I know you're a fuckin' ray of sunshine, this is exactly how you act every time you get a crush. You did it with Carl, you did it with Jim..."

"And they weren't interested and became my friends, so..." I counter.

"Uh-huh. Sure. Well, who's the new 'friend', then?" she says.

I sigh and say, "Spencer Reid. Um, Doctor Spencer Reid."

She walks over and nudges my shoulder with hers, "Hey, hey, a doctor, huh? ...Wait, a doctor works with the feds?" she asks.

I nod, saying "Yeah, he's got, like, 3 PhDs. I'm not sure in what yet, I could probably ask him when I see him..."

She raises her eyebrows and nudges me again. "So, what does this Doctor Spencer Reid look like? He cute?" she says, walking back to the counter.

I give a shy smile and say, "I-um, yeah, I think so, at least. Definitely my type..."

Val nods and says with a smile, "Ah, gotcha. Scrawny and tall."

I huff and say, "I wouldn't say scrawny. Slender, maybe..."

Val hums and says, "Mmm, well, if I know you, you're off to buy something for breakfast, getting two so you can say they 'accidentally' gave you an extra one and offering it to him. Oh, or are you lending him something to borrow?"

I open my mouth to protest, but she just gives me a look, and I look down as I put my shoes on and say, "Um, both. I'm also lending him books to read."

"Wow, going in with both barrels, you are smitten, huh Lina?" she drawls.

I look up and shrug at her. As I grab my bag and coat, she turns to go into the bathroom and says over her shoulder, "OK then. Have fun and be careful, Lina. And good luck with your doctor," I snort and head out the door, making my way to the closest place I can get what I need for my flirting tactic, which would be a Starbucks. After getting two chocolate chip muffins and a small mocha, I make my way to the metro, hoping I didn't miss Spencer.

Luck must have been on my side that day because as the metro pulls up and I board, I see Spencer sitting and he waves at me. I smile and sit near him, saying, "Heya Doc- Spencer. How're you this morning?"

He shrugs and says, "I-I'm fine, how are you?"

I reply, "Oh, I'm ok. I brought the books, too. Do you know for sure you'll have enough time to read them?"

He gives a small smile and says, "As long as we don't get called in for a case, yeah. We mainly do paperwork in between cases."

"Doesn't that get boring, though?" I ask.

"Believe me, after working on cases, paperwork is a welcome drudgery," he says.

I give a slight nod and continue. "Do you type it up, or have to write it out by hand?"

"Um, I mean, both, technically. While they've been trying to get everything backed up digitally, we can still write it by hand if it's one we've recently finished. I'd rather do it by hand, honestly. I can write faster than I can type." Spencer says.

"I can understand that. I prefer typing, but that's mainly because when I type, other people can actually understand what I'm trying to write!" I joke with a small laugh.

Spencer gives me a small smile and says, "Studies have shown that having messy handwriting can be an indication of higher intelligence, that you're thinking so much and so fast that your hand can't keep up."

I smile and say, "Huh, that makes me feel a bit better about my chicken scratch. Thanks, Spencer."

He flushes and gives me a warm smile. "Y-you're welcome. Um, this is our stop, we should get going."

Exiting the train, we make our way into the BAU building. As we step onto the elevator, I bite my lip and think, OK, let's see if it works this time... I open up the bag with the muffins and look inside. "Huh, they gave me two by accident. Hey, would you like this extra muffin? It's chocolate chip." I say, holding out the muffin toward him.

He looks at me and says, "A-are you sure?"

I nod and say, "Yup!" He gives me a small smile and takes the muffin from me.

"Thank you," he says quietly.

Giant smile on my face, I look down and say, "You're welcome, Spencer." YES, it actually worked! The elevator opens up to our floor, and we walk into the bullpen.

Spencer looks around, saying, "It looks like Garcia isn't here yet, d-did you want to sit at my desk and wait for her?"

"I-yeah, I'll sit with you and wait, if that's cool. I can give you the books, too." I say as calmly as I can while trying to cover up my giddiness. We walk over to his desk and he pulls up a spare chair to sit in while motioning for me to sit in his chair.

As I sit down, I pull out the books I've brought and place them on his desk. Looking at Spencer, I ask him, "OK, so, you can read really fast. But can you remember it all?"

He nods and says, "Yes, I remember everything I've ever read."

"Really? Everything? Is it ok if I test that by asking you questions about the books when you're done, right? For science?" I asked, wiggling my eyebrows slightly.

He chuckles and says, "I think I can do that. For science."

"So, um, do I-do I just...come by your desk at lunch, or..." I start, trying and failing to not sound awkward.

"I-y-yeah, I don't think it'll be a problem if we take our lunch at the same time," he says. Hearing footsteps, we both turn to see Penelope walk over, folders in her hands.

"Hey, Lina. You keeping our Boy Genius company?" she says, a sly smile on her face.

Flushing slightly, I ask, "That's ok, right? Like, I'm allowed?"

Giving a gentler smile, she says, "Yeah, that's fine, as long as there's downtime. However, I'm gonna have to ask you to come with me now, today I'm going to show you what we do when there's not a case."

"See you at lunch?" I say to Spencer, who gives me a small smile and says, "Yeah, I-I'll see you then, Lina." Grinning, I stand up and Penelope and I walk together.

"So," she starts, a Cheshire Cat grin on her face. "How was your morning, Lina?"

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[krafterwrites]

Rows Of Roses

All the way back in October 2022, I held a raffle to celebrate hitting 500 followers, and promised the winner that I would write a fic for them. It may have taken a long time to get back enough energy to write again, but I stuck to my word, and now I've finally finished making a fic based on the prompt that my friend @4filen0tfound4 gave me. Hope it was worth the wait

Summary: Amy invites Silver over to her garden, where he learns about the many meanings that different colors of roses can hold

Words: 2847

In the city of Station Square, Amy's home stood out a bit. Unlike the apartment she had moved out of some time ago, which was no different than the rest in terms of its exterior, this small house situated close to the edges of the metropolis served as a small beacon of greenery through its yard and the garden contained inside of it. Amy was waiting in that yard when she heard a faint sound slice through the typical ambience, an ethereal humming sound. A second later, what she had suspected to be the source of the noise hovered into view

"I'm here! Hope I'm not late," Silver said as he dispersed the field of energy that had been carrying him and softly dropped onto the ground

"Nope, you're right on time," She reassured him. "Do you want anything before we start? I just got some tea from the store"

She gestured towards the front door of the home as she asked, and Silver couldn't tell if this meant she had planned to have a snack before they started, or if she was just being very inviting. He did really want to get to gardening right away, since he knew it would be fascinating to learn more about the plants of the past from someone who knew a lot about them, but he didn't want to accidentally mess up her plans after she'd been nice enough to invite him over. He hadn't known Amy for as long as her other friends, but she had always been just as sweet to him as everyone else during that relatively short period, so he decided that something little like this didn't matter

"I'd like to start right away, if that's alright," He told her with a slight bit of uncertainty. "Tea does sound great afterwards, though"

"Sounds good to me," She answered, beginning to turn and move towards the back of the plot's land

Silver internally relaxed a bit, and then began to follow Amy as she walked to her garden. The walk was very brief due to the small size of the yard, but even so it was still pleasant because of the perfectly maintained grass, and the perfect weather that was looking down on it. Once he had caught up with her, his eyes were caught by the centerpiece of the place. Laid out in a rectangle formation were what must have been at least a hundred roses, not just red, but in all sorts of new colors that he didn't even know were possible. White, yellow, green, even blue. The pretty display and the realization that even one of the few plants he thought he knew relatively well had so much more to it excited him a lot, which she noticed

"I see you like the roses I planted," Amy said joyfully

"I love them! They're all so beautiful, I didn't know that they came in colors other than red," He exclaimed

"Oh, yeah, there's tons of different colors they can have. Most people just think about the red ones when they hear roses, so romance is commonly associated with them since that's the meaning the reds have, but each color symbolizes different things"

He was intrigued even more by this revelation than the previous one. Each of the differently colored flowers in front of them all had meaning to them, like hidden messages of some sort. He began to wonder if the other flowers he'd seen up until this point represented things as well, if they might have been giving him signs that he hadn't been aware of

"Can you tell me about all of them?" Silver questioned

"Well, there's a lot of colors here to go through, and they can each have quite a few things associated with them," She explained. "Why don't you pick out one for us to start with?"

He looked at the arrangement of flowers intently, and tried to think about which ones caught his eye the most. Yellow and orange were such great colors, they reminded him of the sun and how its light felt on his fur, and the flames that Blaze could conjure. However, after thinking about it for some time, Silver decided that the most interesting shade was blue. It reminded him of the ocean, and one of his most precious memories that had been made there

"What about those blue roses?" He asked

"These can symbolize uniqueness, or things that are impossible. It's like they were made for Sonic," Amy replied as she crouched down to the earth to get a closer look at them. "Heh, but that's just my opinion. What do you think of them?"

While the color of the flowers had immediately brought water into his mind, hearing about the impossible made him think of the fact that he was standing here in this moment, thinking about this at all. Not just because of the miracle of time travel, but also because of how harsh the world he'd been in for so long was. All it would've taken was for one of Silver's many near misses to have not been a near miss, and he never would've been able to see the past. Surviving for long certainly seemed impossible at the time, let alone changing the world. But here he was, able to relax, with his future no longer desolate. Telling Amy all of what he said verbatim would probably drag the mood down a little, so he decided to just state the last part instead

"It seemed impossible for things to ever change," Silver began explaining. "But once I was brought back here, I was able to fix everything. Now my future is just as beautiful as this place is"

"That's amazing to hear, Silver. It's good to know that even 200 years from now, this world will still be full of life," Amy complimented him. "Are the plants from your future anything like the ones here?"

"Uhh, I think so? I haven't seen too many from either time yet, so it's hard to know if anything I see is unique to that period or not"

"I see. Next time, you should describe some of your future plants to me, and I can tell you if they're ones that exist in this time. Maybe you could even bring one back, it would be fascinating to see"

"Oh, um, I'm not sure if I can, it could mess things up. I guess I could fix things even if they did go wrong, but-"

"No, you're right, I wasn't thinking about it. Let's get back to the flowers that are in front of us now, which ones are catching your eye?"

The green roses were the first ones that Silver thought of this time around, they almost looked like immature sprouts that hadn't finished growing yet, but they were the same size as everything else. A flower lacking the vibrant splash of color that it usually had at the top, and instead having the same color as its less treasured parts such as the leaves, had a lot of potential for interesting meanings. Plus, in the event that his thought about the green roses not being finished growing was true, it would lead to the just as interesting revelation that these ones would end up being much larger than all of the others

"What's up with the green ones?" Silver asked, phrasing it so that the answer would tell him which one of his assumptions about them was right

"They mostly mean life and abundance. Perfect for a day like this, right?" Amy remarked

He took a second to look up into the sky as well as into the street behind him, and saw that she was very right. Life stretched far past Amy's yard, it was in the skies above them as Flickies flew overhead, and in the streets behind them as people went about their day walking to who knew where

"Abundance… yeah!" Silver exclaimed. "That's the perfect word for what the past is like, there's so much stuff here. Every day I'm here, I see a bunch of new things"

"Did you see anything new today on your way here?" She asked

"I did! I passed by a bakery, and I saw these little colorful things that had cream in the center, and the outsides were kind of like little cookies"

"Oh, you mean macarons? Those are really good, did you get to try one?"

"I actually did, I asked the person eating them if I could have one, and they handed it to me. It was super sweet, I wish I could've had more, but I didn't want to be rude"

"Well, if you want to have more, we could always go to there ourselves and order some next time"

"That would be fantastic, I love visiting restaurants! It seems like there's infinite choices, and all of them are delicious"

"Yeah, the places here all have a lot on the menu, even I haven't tried all of them yet. Say, what's your favorite thing you've had so far?"

"It was this amazing apple pie I ate at a bakery. Back in the future, I ate a lot of old ration bars, the best ones were the apple flavored ones. The closest I ever felt to being in a natural world was when I ate one of them, but then when I had that pie, it was like experiencing that times a million. It was the first time I felt something familiar in a new way, instead of something completely new"

"Wow, if I'd only gotten to have things flavored like fruit my whole life before getting to eat the real thing too, it would probably have been as magical as you were describing. Did you have anything with the pie?"

"Nope. What do people usually have with it?"

"The most popular toppings are vanilla ice cream and whipped cream. It's actually kind of funny, since they're both like you"

"Huh? How are they like me?"

"They're both white like your fur, and they're both really sweet"

"Aww, thank you!"

"No problem!"

Since Silver was now thinking about things that looked similar to him, when he looked back to the garden after the conversation had died down, he immediately thought of the white roses. Like vanilla ice cream and whipped cream (supposedly), the petals did look a lot like his fur, he would probably be able to hide pretty well behind all of them if he needed to. While their potential hide and seek applications were fun to think about, Silver was also even more curious about what they could mean than he'd been about the other two. If they looked like him, would they have meanings that reflected him?

"What meanings do the white roses have?" He chose, silently beginning to get a bit excited as his anticipation grew

"These can stand for a lot of things, but some of the most prevalent meanings are innocence, loyalty, and new beginnings," Amy shared. "They're mostly used at weddings, but I think with meanings like those, they're good for a lot of events"

"New beginnings, huh?"

"Yep! I bet that makes you think of traveling back here for the first time, doesn't it?"

"How did you know that?"

"Oh, I just guessed based on what you've told me before. Good to know my guess was right!"

"Well, you only guessed half of it"

"Hm?"

"My other new beginning was meeting you"

The answer caught Amy off guard. She hadn't thought that she'd had that much of an impact on Silver, she just treated him the same way she did to everyone else. Knowing that her meeting with him was apparently so important that he considered it the start of a new chapter in his life made her feel a deep happiness, followed by a small bit of curiosity

"Really?" Amy asked, still a bit shocked

"It's true," Silver began. "The first person who I ever felt a real connection with was Espio, but since we were working together to save the future, I thought it was just because of our shared goal. But then, the next time I went back here, you saw me. You didn't know why I was here, or even who I was, but you were so nice to me… It made me realize the truth. Espio, Shadow, everyone else; they weren't being kind for the sake of the future, it was because they cared about me"

"Wow. That's… really something. I'm glad that I was able to help you"

"I'm glad about it too"

As Silver reminisced about the change that his meeting with Amy had brought to him, he was facing her, since he had just finished a conversation. However, since it was followed by a short period of silence while both were busy thinking about that information, his eyes went back to the flowerbed

It was just a default position at this point, since he had previously looked at it a lot in order to make his choices for rose variants to learn about. Spending time in silence instead of asking about that, though, made him notice a part of the rose other than their colors: their thorns

The first time Silver saw a rose, he'd grabbed it with his hand in his excitement, and it pierced through his glove into his hand. Even though it had drawn blood, it still had the same gorgeous appearance that had drawn him to it in the first place, so he chose not to leave it behind. Instead, he grabbed it gently with his psychokinesis, and carried it beside him as he walked and floated across the land

Everyone he'd met during his times chasing Eggman Nega, he'd been rude and harsh to at one point or another. While Espio was the only one who had brushed it off and followed him at the time, he had seen all of the others at later points, and they all seemed to at least tolerate him. Maybe it was because they had been told he wasn't actually that bad by Espio, or maybe it was because his urgency during his first time saving the future had faded, and no longer forced him to push everyone out of his path. Maybe it was both

Suddenly, Silver snapped out of his thoughts when he realized that Amy had moved over to the garden in front of them again. Unlike last time, though, she was plucking a rose from the dirt instead of just looking at them. It was yellow, close to his bracelets and eyes, although not exactly like either of them

"Oh, you're picking them now? That's fine, I wanted to hear about the yellow ones next anyways," Silver said as Amy turned around to face him, slightly confused

"I'm giving it to you, silly!" She explained as she stretched out her arm for Silver to take it. "Yellow roses symbolize friendship. You looked so happy seeing all these roses here, so I figured this would be a great gift for you"

"You'd… really do that for me? We're friends?" He asked, sounding very touched

"Of course we are! I know we haven't known each other for so long, but every time we talk, it's so enjoyable. You just have so much love for this world, and you share it with everyone you're around. Whenever you talk about how amazed you are by something I see everyday, it reminds me of just how great this place really is, of what I fight to protect"

Silver didn't respond verbally at this point, as he was a little overwhelmed by just how kind Amy had been to him, but tears welling up in the corners of his eyes showed he appreciated it very much. Remembering the lesson he had learned before, he held his hand forward and gently encircled the flower with his psychokinesis, lifting it out of Amy's hand and bringing it close to his side

"Thank you," he managed to choke out. "Thank you so much. I'm going to take the best care of this as I can"

"Maybe you could even start your own garden someday," Amy suggested.

"That would be fantastic," He replied, before turning to look at the lone plant. "But for now, I've got to take care of this"

"I understand. It was great hanging out with you today, hope I can see you again soon!"

"Me too. Bye, Amy"

"Bye, Silver!"

With that, Silver flew off similarly to how he had arrived. Amy was left in her yard next to the garden that she had just taken her gift to Silver from, and thought about the future. There was no way she'd be alive to take care of it in Silver's time, so it would likely have disappeared long before then. However, even if the garden she was standing next to would eventually fade away, she knew there would still be one like it 200 years from now. A very beautiful, and very yellow, garden of roses

[tangibletechnomancy]

The thing is, I 1000% acknowledge and respect that a lot of art communities have damned good reasons to be wary of AI, because a lot of commission economies - especially furry and furry-adjacent communities - are already constantly, CONSTANTLY under fucking siege by assholes who hear of their reputation for being willing to spend a lot on commissions and try to muscle in on the action while actively showing disdain for the communities they're blatantly trying to exploit for that sweet sweet "freak" money. Seriously, if I had a dollar for every time I've heard someone who has ZERO respect for furries - thinks they're all a bunch of freaks playing chicken with zoophilia, treats furries as a punchline in that kind of way that sounds like they might be in on the joke but when prodded further you realize no they're really not - say "hmm maybe I should learn to draw furry art, that pays well", well, I would have enough money to commission actual furry artists.

It fucking sucks. It's an eternal frustration to be surrounded by a bunch of fucking assholes trying to milk your community for money while still pointing and laughing at you like you're some kind of sideshow attraction, taking your money and then calling you a freak in the next breath, but they GUESS they could DEIGN to claim to respect you because you pay so very well. It's cruel and shitty and should not be abided, and it's painful that there's no real way to protect a community against that kind of behavior other than essentially playing whack-a-mole as long as you're there and concerned about it - and AI art absolutely does have the power to enable these assclowns, because before AI, these types had to do a lot more work to learn to draw some new subject matter, do studies on what makes it tick and what the community values about it - AI dramatically lowers the skill floor to get a passable result, and while this is a huge positive from most standpoints...well, most of the time, through the process of doing these kinds of studies, your typical greedy asshole will realize that oh shit, there actually IS work involved in this and unique skills and a community that's not just a bunch of gullible freaks but PEOPLE with inner lives as rich as your own and either find some passion for a community they once felt that disdain for, or just balk at having to ACTUALLY work for it and burn out before they even get off the ground; AI is not SO easy as to eliminate this completely but it may make it more likely that these types could get a foot in the door and...essentially Funko Pop-ify even custom art. We already see people trying it in certain adoptable communities and it fucking sucks.

This is why I'm 100% comfortable with, and even tentatively encourage, sites and events geared toward communities frequently targeted by this kind of assholery banning AI art - I have my reservations about it as a long-term solution, as it's only going to get easier and easier for people to just lie (and this is why a huge aspect of my personal approach to keeping things as ethical as possible is to be as transparent as I can be about my processes) and AI is commonly used as an accessibility tool, but at the very least in the short term I see those policies and usually my first thought is "yeah that is absolutely, completely, perfectly fair."

I just wish I was better at finding an appropriate time and place to point out to people who are taking those concerns to the level of outright lying or otherwise blaming the tech more than the assholes, that There Are Many AI Artists Who Hate Those Types As Much As You Do And There Are Many Other Approaches To AI Art. When I started this blog, I, too, thought I was nearly alone in my desire to see AI tech used ethically, for both accessibility and its own unique features as a medium, and I've rarely if ever been happier to find out I was wrong. If there's one emotional skill I wish more people had, it is this - please...learn how to be happy to have been wrong when a situation turns out to not be as bad as you thought it was.

tl;dr: It's not wrong at ALL for people to want to protect their community from people who just see them as a crowd of walking ATMs. If you're looking at AI somewhat favorably because you see it as an easy way into those communities for their commission money, you're a piece of shit and I hope you break your fingers so badly you can't even type anymore, let alone noise paint, which you're gonna have to do if you want to get a result to exact specifications.

Just, if you're in one of those communities...please don't invent, and try to stop spreading misinformation about the tech, because the collateral damage is...A Lot.

[siriuslytproblem28]

time has come. i finished crimson rivers.

this is gonna be a long one, and i don't mind if I'm the only one who's getting to its end, I'm writing this for me.

the thing is, i started reading it not being able to conceive just how devastatingly beautiful it is, everything about it. i saw people on tiktok freaking out, and the fact that it's a thg AU really caught me off guard, I'm a huge fan of the books and the movies, ever since i was a child (about 9 years ago) and I'm fairly new with jegulus (i only read like half of choices and some other tiny fics) but i don't know how to explain just how this masterpiece got me tight on a chockehold.

but then, it came to me, in the last chapter.

It's about hope. yeah it's s about growth too but that only comes with hope. everything around this is hope. i get it now.

in a way, i feel like I've grown with it too. i surely hoped to. it's different than anything I've ever read. not only cause it merges some of my favorite characters, stories and scenarios, or because it's sad and angsty and I'm dramatic, or because everyone was reading. it was because of that as much as it wasn't.

usually when i read these things i wish for them to never end. i go at my own pace since they're usually finished for months or even years and i take my time, stretching it as far as it goes, binging when i feel like, and it becomes an experience, my experience, playing with time and spending every day with the characters until i wake up and go to sleep thinking about them and pray not to find spoilers on the internet. I'd strech and stretch cause I've never been good at goodbyes, always hate them, the reversible and the irrevocable, but this time... it's weird...

i could read anything by zar and LOVE it no matter how long, I'd drink the words until i choked and spit them out just in time to take another mouthful. I'd swallow some, too. like poison, like tea.

but it made sense that this had to come to an end. not cause it's set in over 3000 pages, i didn't realize it was long as i was reading it, as a long time fic reader, i guess i was just used to read and read endlessly, how it seemed at the time. but this, i understood, i could see it coming to an end and i was at peace with it, i got it, and i was even happy for it, not to get rid of it, I'll miss this forever and might reread it in a low point in my life to give me comfort (yeah i know loll but towards the end there's comfort ok?)

but it made me have a better relationship with endings and change in general.

I've been known to dwel. on people, on things, on the past, on stories, anything. i cling to things as long as there's a tip to grip and i struggle to let go. to make peace with endings. crimson rivers came at first like a continuation to my habits, fitting perfectly in the angsty, sad story I'm so passionate about. brutal, cruel and awful, destroying me internally, with things i would relate to and the things i wouldn't. as closer to its end as it came, it became the antithesis. i understand why it had to end, i even agree, of course I'd read 75 more chapters but i don't feel the need to as much as i don't feel the need to know every detail about reggie and James's wedding.

I'm usually atractted by unsaid things, whispered kisses, silent words hung above those who kept their mouth shut when they shouldn't have, when speaking up would gain them time, precious and non conforming time.

but in cr the unsaid is said in so many ways, it's sang and screamed and still i found crevices between the realm of real and inagined words to foster my own thoughts and interpretations on the characters, on the story itself. i found myself bookmarking soooo many scenes and wanting line after line engraved in my mind, tattooed in my bones.

it's the most beautiful story I've ever read and i realized in the last chapter that it's about hope. right during regulus' dream, when evan says "is it not good enough that it has been you?" referring to regulus projecting evan in his dreams to counseling him, while all evan ever said to him might just have been regulus saying to himself. and then i was like "oh".

it was always about hope for me. regulus hoping james would see him, notice him, regulus hoping his name wouldn't be called, james and reggie hoping sirius would survive, regulus hoping to have his brother back, james hoping sirius would overcome his addiction and his trauma after the arena, james hoping he could ever have a chance with reggie, sirius hoping to be close to regulus again, and much later, hope for their love, the three of them, sirius building a bookshelf because he hoped james and regulus would eventually make it, james giving reggie his flowers hoping to make his day better, Reggie getting the flowers hoping someday he would invite james in...

i saw myself in regulus so much, that for the first time it really hit me how much i kin him, and i saw myself in james too, which is new to me, but only in a sense of being absolutely in love with someone and thinking they would never want you back, except for me they won't. but to love with such devotion, such hunger, i feel that, it connected me with this james in such a strong way, as i too would take anything this person would give me, the good and the bad.

i don't wanna spent too much time on more technical things like the world building, narrative, politics etc because i think we can all agree that it was perfectly done, full of complexity when it needed. i wanna focus in what i felt.

i love wolfstar here, i think it's the most healthy I've ever seen them, despite everything they went through. and I'm not saying this as the type of person who doesn't like atyd wolfstar because they're "toxic", i love atyd exactly for being so realistic in a sense that they're both traumatized kids in the 70's. of course they don't deal with shit the way we would know how to deal a little better now. i just think that they journey it's so beautiful, and it's about hope to, hope to have 5 more minutes together, hope to see them the next day, and eventually, every year, taking all they could ever get even if it meant only seeing each other once a year. and they eneded up with everything they deserved. a home and a family to fill it up with. it just makes me soooo fucking emotional.

I'm trying to close things here so this doesn't become like a huuuuge post, so i wanna state that I'm amazed at the character development throughout the fic, especial when it comes to their traumas and such. like, reggie coming from such deep denial towards his love for james, up to the point he thought he could kill him, to admiting his love eventually, to be willing to step in a crimson river to die a horrible death to save him, to admiting his love in his own ways, to propose without james even noticing HELPPP, to literally having the 4 kids he wanted ever since he was a kid. him being able to let evan go too, honoring barty with the forge, mending his relationship with Sirius omgg thatt

i love how the story isn't just about the couples, the romantic love, i adore family dynamics, and sirius and reggie here, omggg they made me cry soo fuckinh much... i find sibling relationships so interesting maybe cause i spent 13 years being an only child, and now i have a 6 year old half sister who doesn't live with me, so i don't get to see her daily and we have the age difference. so like, i know we won't have the same dynamic as siblings living together or closer in age, and honestly i sometimes get scared we won't be close, or that i don't know how to be a big sister cause i still haven't had too much experience at it. but i also feel this need of protection towards her, especially cause she lives with my dad, which is... not a good person to be around, to put it bluntly. and i want her to have me as someone she can trust, i want to help her having to endure my dad and i want her to grow up in a better, healthier way than i did. so yeah, i relate to sirius and Reggie's story here as much as i don't...

and sirius and james friendship>>>>>>>> I've been a sirius kinnie ever since i got into the marauders fandom in 2020, and i have a james in my life, so their bond is really special to me, quite the embodiment if sunshine

remus here as well>>>>>>>>

i know i focused mainly on sirius, reggie and james but honestly i could spent days writing only about those three so i really can't be mentioning everyone else, I'll just say that i don't think any fic made me fall in love with as much characters as this one, even those i didn't know or didn't have their image clear in my mind from canon/other fics.

to close things up, i love how the narrative circles around itself, in the last few chapters things comes full circle, like reggie thanking Sirius for volunteering for him, which was the very core of regulus anger and guilt, so it shows how much he's grown, also when he says to aberforth that "my brother's responsible for his actions as i am for mine" or something, so finally seeing that he isn't responsible for everything bad in sirius life; sirius learning to have a healthy relationship with sex and his desire, remus and lilly making their way back to each other, two hearts beating, one person, james fucking knife kink FINALLY my boy had his way, i found it sooo cute and funny that reggie was trying to "protect" him hiding the daggers LMAOOO, sirius building again, james releasing the horcrux hornet into nature again after so many years, THE FUCKING "YOU'RE HESITATING LOVE" 😫😫😫😫😫 i swear, i thought this fic would be the death of me but it might've just saved my life...

like all the metaphors, all the elements that appear throughout the story to bear meaning and to signify something important, it enriches it soo much, james' flowers, the tree, regulus climbing and growing, the blood and the crimson river, the knitted hat, the snow, the rain, the fire, the fireplace, the bookshelf, the moon, the stars, ughhhh i swear to gooooooooooodddddddd the worst and best parallel, aberforth and albus are what regulus and sirius might've turned into. i am devasted by this, so i won't comment on it. for now.

i think this is it. I'll be forever grateful to zar for writing this masterpiece that changed and saved my life, and consumed it, filling my mind ever since october, and for getting to finish now with everyone. i swear i wanna print and bind this just to have it phisically.

I'll be making a playlist for cr and listen to it every time i miss it ❤️ this was a beautiful jorney, but I'm at peace with it ending now. thank you, zar, i will proceed to rear every other fanfic you wrote and will write.

[gnattyplayssims]

1954 Pt2 - Recovery

The months after Jamal rescued Sofia were a time of healing. For weeks she was so stiff she could barely move and at night the nightmares wouldn't stop until Jamal climbed into bed and soothed her back to sleep. During that time she never once left the house.

By the time Sofia was feeling well enough to start taking care of Ava again, Jamal had already settled into a routine with her. He'd quickly discovered she was a picky eater and would only eat cereal which was all she ate until Sofia was well enough to fight her on it.

"Ava don't play with your food, you need to eat it or you'll be hungry later."

"No! Don't like it. It's yucky!"

"It's not yucky, you liked it yesterday. Would you like to try some of mommy's breakfast?"

"Yeah!" Jamal chuckled as Sofia gave the rest of her plate to Ava.

"So I was thinking...I have the day off today and the weather is supposed to be beautiful...why don't we go to the park?"

"I don't know."

"Sofia, Parched Prospect is a long way away from Skyward Palms. You haven't been out of this house in months."

"Park!"

"See Ava agrees."

Sofia agreed reluctantly and slipped into the bedroom to stand before the full length mirror. The scars on her legs had dulled but she knew people would see them. Don had marked her in ways she'd never be able to erase. "You okay?"

She sighed, "Maybe I'll just wear pants."

He moved behind her putting his hands on her hips, "Don't you dare."

"People are already going to be staring because of my eye, What if they think you hit me?" She took a shaky breath, "I used to be beautiful."

"What are you talking about? You're still breathtaking."

He traced the scar on her leg, his other hand moving to places she hadn't been touched in months. "Would you be angry if I asked you to stop?"

"Why would I be angry? I can control myself, I'm not a monster."

"I've only ever known monsters."

"I won't become another one."

Jamal was right, it was a beautiful day but Sofia could hardly enjoy it. "You alright?"

"You sure it's safe for me to be outside. What if someone here works for Don. He used to have me watched all the time. What if he's just waiting for the right moment. What if-"

"Sofia! If you want me to take you home I will. I can bring Ava alone. She needs the fresh air and so do you but if it's too much for you we can just play in the yard."

"No...I'm okay. You're right this is a big world and Skyward Palms is a long way away. I'll be fine."

"Ugh look at you, you got yourself so worked up you're sweating buckets. Come here." He tucked her under his arm. "I've been scoping out this park for months, I even know the vendor. I have no intention of letting you get hurt again. Ava will be perfectly safe playing here."

Ava had gone to investigate the tunnels but upon realizing that Sofia and Jamal had fallen behind she came crying and begging to be picked up. "Alright Baby Girl let's go check it out." Jamal scooped her up and she immediatly calmed as he carried her to the playground.

They stayed until the sun started going down. Ava loved the tunnels. "Ava how many rocks do you see?"

"One, two, three....SEVEN! I SEE SEVEN!"

Once they got home it was time for a bath and bed. Ava didn't sleep well, so Sofia read to her until she fell asleep.

A few hours later Jamal found her sitting on the bed, staring out the windows. "Hey why aren't you sleeping?"

"I can't sleep."

"It doesn't look like you tried. You're all sweaty again."

"I thought I saw something but...it was just a bird."

"I've told you these windows are one-way, no one can see you in here. Not even the birds."

She nodded "I know." She grasped his hoodie pulling him closer, he didn't fight it letting his desire for her fill him as their mouths moved together, his fingers tangling into her hair

He was so gentle with her as he traced her birthmark, trailing his mouth down her neck and began to tip her back.

She gasped and he pulled back. "Don't stop!"

"Did I hurt you?"

"I'm still just a little sore. I think it's just from being at the park all day. I'm not used to it."

"Let me help." He helped her out of her shirt and she lay on her stomach.

"Don never did anything like this. It was always about his needs."

Jamal traced her bra strap before realizing what he was doing and moving to her neck. "Sofia, I think you should go back to Copperdale."

"What?!" He kissed her shoulder gently and she rolled over, "Do you not want me here anymore?"

"Oh no baby that's not it at all." He stroked her face gently. "But having you here...sleeping in my bed, using my shampoo, making me breakfast...I need some space to clear my head."

"What if I'm ready?" She pulled him down into another kiss. He let her pull him in like a siren. He knew she wasn't ready but she was so inviting. She'd been trained for this, conditioned to believe it was the only way to keep him. Even knowing that he moved lower.

He explored her slowly, enjoying the smoothness of her legs where they weren't scarred. She put a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him encouragingly but it was enough. She wanted to stop but didn't want to disappoint him

"I..I think I should sleep on the couch tonight."

She wrapped her arms around him trying to get him to stay. "Sofia, Let's get out of Oasis Springs. I want to meet your parents. We can go for a visit and then you can decide."

"I want to be with you."

But by the time the next morning came she knew he was right. She needed space.

1955 Pt1 - Reunion

[maybeamiles]

Zoro x Sanji QPR thoughts LET'S GO

(For anyone who doesn't know: QPR stands for "queerplatonic relationship" and is used to describe an intimate relationship where nobody involved has romantic feelings for one another)

It takes them a LONG TIME to actually talk about their relationship

It's not until wholecake Island that they both realize they actually don't want to leave each other

(Look, I haven't gotten to that arc yet, but from what I've heard it seems perfect for that)

Zoro is perfectly okay with Sanji dating anyone he likes, so long as he gets to be a part of Sanji's life

Zoro doesn't have any interest in dating

They're actually very physically affectionate once they actually work out their feelings. Lots of cuddling, lots of seeking out each other after a hard day

For a while Sanji thinks he's in love with Zoro

It's not until he thinks about what he wants in romance (someone he can worship) that he realizes his feelings for Zoro aren't romantic (he wants to be Zoro's partner)

Zoro considers himself "in love," but doesn't think about it long enough to realize it's not romantic love

He's just like, "Oh, I'm jealous of this girl who's gonna take away Sanji. Guess I'm in love." But he never wants to try anything traditionally associated with couples, so he doesn't do that, and thus it takes him a lot longer to realize his feelings aren't romantic

Sanji also has a lot of internalized queerphobia, which he has to get over in order to actually figure out the relationship

Zoro has no such issues

Their relationship is spent mostly in quality time together. Talking over plans, fighting bad guys, training, etc.

They're both very bad at talking about their feelings though, so even after they both realize they don't want to leave each other, it takes even LONGER for them to actually talk about it

Sanji starts the conversation when he gets a (new) girlfriend and Zoro starts acting jealous

"Look, I really like this girl, and I know you're jealous of her, but I want you to know I have no intention of leaving you. You are both very important to me, in very different ways."

"So you're in love with me too, stupid cook."

"Well- Yes, but not in the way I love- wait did you say too?"

"Yeah"

"How long has this been going on mosshead!?"

"A while. You're quite oblivious."

"Oblivious my ass"

[three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat]

I love Wind having master sword burns so so much, please give deets :D

*taps mic* I wrote that fic like, nearly a year ago, so I don't remember much, but I can provide a few details (most about the fic itself, as the whole "MS burns" thing is pretty simple

You can't wield the Master Sword if you do not have the hero's spirit. Zelda, however, as the descendant of Hylia, can wield it (which doesn't make sense to me but whatever)

This was actually before I hopped on the train of Four being Zelda’s cousin, I think, so really I was going for the descendant of someone with the hero's spirit also being able to hold it (to a lesser degree)

I've always visualized Wind's scars to cover his entire hand (hands?), like he laid it evenly on a sheet of hot metal, as opposed to like, just where the hilt touched him. No unblemished skin.

I started another fic about Wind without the hero's spirit (entitled as "ANGST HAMMER" in my docs, whereupon he used the Master Sword to kill Dark Link, and thus died himself) but never got more than a few lines (enclosed below, because I will probably never finish it unless a sudden bout of inspiration strikes. Be warned, it's quite old)

A detail only in that fic- Wind also has scars on his shoulder from where the hilt of the Master Sword rested

(Fun side note- those two are the only fics where my hc of "Blue becomes Edward Elric when his height is mentioned" is present)

This fic was intended to be a looooot angstier but somehow it ended up as a comedy. Writing Wind is just very fun and it's somewhat hard to take everything seriously from his pov

I looked up whether or not WW Link wore gloves to base the placement and extent of his scars on

The burns never got past, like, second degree. Most of the pain was like, a magical thing (the divine curse mentioned by Sun)

There's a running gag in my fics of a Link meeting another Link and calling them "Other Link", and here Sun does it as well (she and Sky are dumbass4dumbass)

This isnt relevant at all but someone made art of the scene where Groose picks up Wind and looking at it now, I just realized Sky is standing in the "you know I had to do it to em" (I think anyway) pose and I'd be upset but that's just so funny

Wind has always known he doesn't have long.

Ever since he pulled the Master Sword, he's held his lifespan in his hands, grains of sand spilling between burned fingers.

Was it not enough? To fight Ganondorf, blood from broken blisters slickening the Master Sword? To live every day in pain, sometimes not even able to do the most basic of tasks?

(He already knows the answer, has known it since the first day he drew the Goddess's blade.

It never will be.)

-

"Good thing the old man is here, right?" Wild says, nudging Wind's side and sending a jolt of pain through him.

Today has been a bad day; he'd woken up unable to curl his fingers in all the way, and his shoulder has been burning, only worsened by the hilt of his sword rubbing against the scars there.

"Yeah." He agrees, tuning back into the conversation. Sky had been demonstrating how his beetle worked, only to wedge it in between two branches out of arm's reach.

"Is it just a hero's spirit thing to be short?" Legend asks. "Time is the only tall one here."

"I don't know." Time says, ruffling Wind's hair. He tries not to wince at the jolt it sends through his already frayed nerves. "The sailor might still get taller than me."

Wind tries not to laugh at that; if Legend is right, then he really might be able to get taller than all of them, if the curse doesn't kill him first.

"I could still get taller." Four rolls their eyes.

"Yeah, right." Warriors scoffs. "You're even more of a shrimp than Wind."

"I'm not a shrimp! This is a perfectly normal height!"

"For a ten year old, maybe."

"I don't know." Legend says. "I think it's more like an eight year old."

-

-

-

He twists the blade into the Dark Link's chest, fire burning through him. It howls, clawing at him.

"Wind, no!" He hears Time yell.

He looks back, smiling. "It's what heroes do, right?"

[evelhak]

Long personal rambling ahead, you've been warned.

I had a weird day walking around my high school city, it almost literally felt like going back in time, since it's been a long time since I walked in the places I used to, I've driven through it and gone to specific places but not like... wandering around the spots I used to spend time in as a teen. I was so surprised the corner of the book shop that I used to hide in was still there. It was always enough out of view so that I could browse books as much as I liked and sit there for hours without anyone noticing or asking anything.

Also I realized the spot at the mall where I cried my eyes out when I didn't get into a musical was exactly the same it was 12 years ago. It made me quite reflective and it got me thinking about my worst and best high school memories which now made me want to share one specific story... Because I've obviously mentioned many times already that I relate to Kuroko deeply, but I haven't really explained why. Not that people would necessarily even be interested, but my blog is like a weird diary anyway, so I'm just gonna tell this memory. Maybe someone will vibe with it.

It started with that musical. It was one of the things why I had chosen my high school (the other was to get a place at a Japan exchange, which I did succeed at) but yeah, I didn't get a role. I was told my presence was "too sensitive" like I wouldn't be able to fill the stage, be expressive enough and draw attention. It was totally fair by the way, but devastating to me at that age, because acting was something I had a real fixation about, and it wasn't even something I had long-term plans for, I had just got it in my head that it was something I needed to check out of my bucket list, no matter what, I wouldn't have peace unless I was in a "real" play once.

So, yeah, I did cry my eyes out because I had tried really hard and wanted it a lot, but after I stopped crying, the teacher's words just made me want to prove they were wrong. So, I decided to do a theater diploma with my friends instead, and the biggest part of it was to write, direct and act a play which would be publically performed. I was already a writer so that role eventually fell to me, which I was only happy about. We had already decided to do a murder mystery which I was so psyched about since I was in my most intense Sherlock obsession at the time. Anyway, I got this idea that since I could write my own role I could make it about my so-called weakness, actually I could write it in a way that the role could only be performed by someone like me who didn't stand out much.

No one had especially wanted to be the detective, so that was going to be my role, and then I figured I should have two detectives solving the same case. The other one would be a distraction to lead the audience astray. He would be loud, aggressive and boisterous and the narrative would support the assumption that he was the main character. His name was Mr. Forrest. And he was played by our most charismatic and talented actor. So while this flamboyant detective would be thinking out loud, explicitly solving the case, and engaging the audience, my character, Cherry, would be working in the background and having her own differing opinions, but they would be seemingly debunked by the other detective or the suspects, and the audience would think Cherry was too boring of a character to be important, since she was mostly just organizing stuff in the background (but of course all of those things were actually clues to the case) However, Mr. Forrest would eventually turn out to have been fooled by one of the suspects, the murderer, because he was attracted to her (because I was a faithful Sherlockian) and unbiased Cherry would solve the case.

I feel like this kind of thinking perfectly illustrates why I'm a writer, not an actor, heh...

But anyway, it worked really well, the audience was never able to see through the bluff, as far as I know. (Maybe once would have been nice, that would have proved my clues as coherent if you paid enough attention but oh well.) I can't pretend my favourite part wasn't when my character finally got the spotlight at the end and I got to explain how the murder was commited and expose the murderer. I think my favourite line was from Mr. Forrest, when Cherry would pull out a flipboard on which I had sketched a drawing of how the murder was done and Mr. Forrest would say: "So, you decided to pass the time by doodling a little for your own amusement? Ridiculous!" (Probably I found it so good because the actor nailed the tone.) And then of course Cherry would basically hand his ass to him when it came to solving the crime.

One of the others also had a habit of telling the audience after the applause that no one should ever make me mad because I would have been a good murderer. I guess that was funny, definitely stroked my ego a little.

I really had the best time in high school with that group. I'll never forget how in sync I was with the girl who played Mr. Forrest. I haven't done a lot of acting, but I have done a lot of dancing so I do know something about chemistry on stage and to this day I don't think I encountered anyone who I had it better with. It felt like magic honestly. She had trouble remembering lines sometimes and every time it happened she would instinctively look at me, and then I would always be able to make her look at an object that made her remember the next line. I was usually good with remembering, but on one occasion I forgot to say one tiny sentence that was key to the mystery, without it the next parts wouldn't make any sense, but the moment was already gone, and then Mr. Forrest's actor totally saved my ass by coming up with a new impro section to one of the character's monologues on the spot, and it covered up my mistake completely. I was really impressed by that because it required so much thinking in mere seconds to spontaneously add a whole new section to the story, but that just showed how in the moment she was. We weren't normally the closest personal friends (honestly she barely remembered I existed before we started working on the play even though we did hang out in the same circle) but on stage it was like we had one brain for a moment. I really wish I would get to experience that again some day.

Anyway, I feel like this also illustrates some specific things in an analogous manner about why I feel about KnB so deeply and relate to Kuroko. Isn't it funny how this memory is about acting on stage, since that's an analogy in KnB? Sure, this is just one memory but also one that doesn't feel too personal to share, so in case anyone was curious about why I relate to Kuroko I think this is a pretty good example because it covers a few key things, I think.

Also I just like to think about these happy times, so this was a good excuse to go back there. I'm always going to love that darkness of the stage and the magical feeling it brings and how many things performative art forms can do. Even as amateurs I think we impressed people quite a lot.

Anyway... If you read this far I hope it was at least mildly entertaining.

Haha, I actually saw one of my old friends from this play today, when I completely accidentally went to a store she was working in. Hadn't seen her in at least five years. She played a suspect who was an artist with about three brain cells.

Anyway, enough rambling, good night.

[anemia-rp]

"Well I am glad you don't really give in to them. It's easier to sink into it than having to face it, though we do have to face that void sometimes... even when we don't want to. It's how we have made it this far." she said honestly. "You will? That's really nice! I'm so scared of clowns that I even sometimes might cry if I see them or am around them too long." She admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed by it.

"I bet you have a cute pout." She blushed some when she realized she said her thought out loud instead of keeping it to herself. "I admire that you want to feel your emotions more. A lot of people want to suppress them, I'm even guilty of not wanting to feel mine so strongly at times." She said with an honest and genuine smile

"I can never be arrested, I'm too sneaky." she nodded while trying to keep a serious face, though she was failing badly. "I do have a lot of boots, and I think with how long it fits me I think some chunky style boots would look cool with it."

"Umm... Oh I'm not good at swimming! I can swim well enough to not die and that's it." She answered in a surprisingly serious way before letting out a little laugh. She was enjoying the way their conversation just naturally flowed between topics and tones. "Yeah." she nodded. "It can quickly become super damaged and dry if you don't take care of it properly. Luckily I've been bleaching it long enough to know lots of tips for keeping it healthy. Oh you're the braiding expert? How could I turn down having my hair braided then? I have to warn you though that you will probably hear happy little noises coming from me if you do. I really like having my hair played with."

"I admit, I'm glad you were able to keep your softer side too. I don't know if I would be able to talk with you so easily if you were a truly scary Mr Scary. I think I would still be drawn to you but I would probably be much more guarded." She admitted before smiling and copying his actions. "Your secret is safe with me." she gave a playful wink. "And that is perfectly okay! Scary and cute is one of the best combinations."

"It's a lot more enjoyable when both people are having fun. I don't understand how other's can enjoy themselves when the other person isn't feeling good as well" She nodded as she listened to him "That makes sense, the people I lost myself to were abusive in other way as well." The way he touched her neck caused a shiver to go down her back as she looked up at him again.

"Wise words", he responded with a smile, definitely impressed. "Well, I'm someone who self-reflects a lot. It would be too easy to just blame everyone else for your misery. But entirely blaming yourself isn't the way either." He shrugged. "Yeah, guess if one of my friends was afraid of clowns I would lock them into a room full of clowns and laugh about his fear…sounds rough, but the guys know how I can be and still they stick with me, so." A smirk appeared on his face that softened right away again though. "But seeing innocent and vulnerable persons cry and afraid breaks my heart."

"I can't imagine how my pout could be cute, but guess I'm not the right one to judge", he said and chortled amusedly. "When I suppress my emotions they'll turn into anger. However, don't think I'm not fucking afraid of the intensity of my own emotions." With a serious face he played with the rings on his fingers.

A cocky glint appeared in his eyes. "You're sure about that? Okay, guess you just need to shrink yourself and are free, huh?" He gave her a swat on the nose. "Boots really fit to everything, you never can get wrong with some chunky ones. Though I didn't wear my extremely sturdy New Rock boots with steel caps in them since a long time since they're so fucking heavy my feet start to hurt after ten minutes. But they look so damn cool." He chuckled.

"I don't like swimming either", he claimed and scrunched his nose. "I only like to watch how others do it." His fingers kept combing through her hair. "Wow, what a threat. Happy noises, now I'm fucking afraid." A short laughter erupted him. "You wanna have one pigtail or two?"

"Yeah, dunno, I'm just not full-blown evil, sometimes this would make things easier though, while it would make other things more difficult, you're right." He nodded before he heard something that made him blink. "Drawn to me, huh? Now you admitted something." It elicited him a wide smirk.

"Another thing that distinguishes me from a full-blown evil guy", he conceded. "Yeah, that doesn't surprise me. If someone's a controlling psychopath in the bedroom then they're mostly one in every day life, too." He snorted. "But back to bedroom activities where only one party enjoys themselves. I'd hate it if I wouldn't feel their admiration and desire but only them enduring what I do. Yeah, there might be the thrill of being in full control, and I've got my moments where I like it when someone gets a lil' afraid of me, but I certainly prefer it to drive others crazy from how much they want me." He nodded in a very content manner and let his hand wander downwards, over her arm, his fingers featherly hovering over her left breast. "What doesn't mean I don't like to play games sometimes."

[paterklatter]

Do you have any video game opinions/hot takes?

ok so i ended up writing like an entire essay so i'm gonna put this under a cut

-hades is not that amazing of a game, while it's fun it hardly qualifies as a roguelike and the gameplay lacks depth. the only reason it's so loved is its absolutely amazing character design. it's not bad just the definition of a 7/10 game (which i need 7/10 brainrot games in my life. that's why i've played shit like hades or steamworld quest to completion as their lack of gameplay depth made them easy to play with my brain in the wash)

-"cozy" games have quickly grown repetitive and i genuinely question the need for 500 "stardew valley but fantasy games" or otherwise generic farm sims with one catchy steam page gimick

-the direction of the yakuza franchise is actually such a fucking mess right now. the change of the name to "like a dragon" after the series has already established itself as yakuza is such a stupid fucking move. no one calls it "like a dragon." some fans may call it rgg (including me), but no one calls it like a dragon. the annual release model also just isn't working. these extremely long story based games are a huge time sink and require anyone who wants to play 8 to play all of them, so new fans are going to get burnt out quick. even people who has played all the games are gonna get burnt out fast, especially considering you HAVE to play the new to understand the one coming out later that year. i think 7 was a really good way to sidestep that without leaving fans of the other games hanging as you can go into it having played none of the games and still understand it perfectly well. i'm not the craziest about the turn based combat but i definitely prefer it to whatever the hell the other dragon engine games were cooking because the ragdoll physics of kiwami 2 actually almost made me drop it (one of the reasons i think it's the worst game in the franchise behind 5). i think dropping that to do ANOTHER kiryu send off is stupid. some people didn't like the ending of 6, but changing your mind after switching to ichiban (who has the potential to be a better protagonist than kiryu) is actually so fucking cheap. i'm sure i would make this paragraph even longer if i had played gaiden or 8 but i'm actually so fed up with this franchise. also doing a ground up remake for ishin instead of just a translation with maybe some quality of life improvements or updated characters was stupid and also the combat was bad.

-totk sucked ass nintendo didn't cook. there was NO reason for it to have taken longer to make than botw. the main gimick is cool but i personally didn't like it (though i'm in the minority on that) and while its impressive how bug free it is it doesn't feel play tested. like yeah sure the physics are consistent but it feels like there isn't as many fun ways to use it. after 5 hours you realize what same 7 things work and use them in every situation. also it has some major ux problems (HOLY SHIT JUST LET US PRE-FUSE ARROWS I DON'T WANNA GO TROUGH A DROP DOWN 3 TIMES MID-AIR). the exploration is completely gone for anyone who has played botw as well. the depths and sky just don't have enough going on and again this game took longer than botw to come out despite have absolutely not map change and don't even get me started on the train wreck of a story

-people who have watched playthroughs fundamentally had a different experience to people who actually played the game and that gap can sometimes make them just not able to engage in discussion in the same way. it depends on the game definitely but something like disco elysium relies so heavily on individual experiences that watching someone play it isn't even the same game. even like fnaf which is THE let's play game, you don't truly feel any of the stress from doing mental management by watching someone else play it

-overwatch 2's characters have been such a step down from the first games it's insane. not even as kits but in actual personality and story. with the exception of ramattra who i think is one of the strongest overwatch characters overall (who also has been definitely cooking since mid-ow 1), ow2's characters have been like. not even bland just straight obnoxious. kiriko, venture, lifeweaver, and juno have the same stock "snarky" personality that makes them really obnoxious. kiriko is the worst of that though, her design is also ugly and her entire existence genuinely makes no sense and why is she blizzards golden child what are they cooking. sojourn is just like. boring. junker queen is really fucking annoying and it's a shame as in the cinematic she seems like a much more fun character than someone screaming in my ear. mauga was such a waste of potential because he's also been cooking since before bap's release but he lacks any personality and is again. obnoxious

-fortnite needs to put the collab skins DOWN. the shop has anywhere from 2-8 different collab pages on any given day. and while i'm sure they sell, it just looks so obnoxious and honestly the original skins are just better and more interesting. having to dig to find the signature style page is so annoying. also they need more skins in the rotation because it's the same 5 fucking skins i swear. lego fortnite has absolutely trashed the shop, fall guys will make this problem even worse i imagine

-no more souls likes pleaseeeeee i never fucked with the genre in all honesty but this oversaturation has to be bothering even avid fans of the genre

-nintendo's current re-releases make no sense because why is metroid prime's remaster $40 but fucking luigi's mansion 2 hd $60. also why have they been holding wind waker and twilight princess hd hostage those are easy ports that would sell. i've been wanting to replay twilight princess as i remember it fondly and want to tell if i'm tripping or not but don't have a wii u and you got me fucked up if you think i'm digging up my dead old wii to play it

-on that. twilight princess gets too much shit. of course some of this could be wrong as i'm going off very biased memory as it was my first zelda title and one of the first i 100%ed, but it's so much better than everyone says it is. the aesthetic is very edgy for sure but it also has some of the weirdest character designs and personalities in the franchise and they work so well with the gritty visuals somehow. midna is the best companion as she has an actual personality and isn't BUZZING IM MY FUCKING EAR THE ENTIRE GAME HOLY SHIT FI YOU ARE MY OPP. zant is an amazing villian as well. some people hate on the game's slow opening but i love it because it gives link so much more character and makes you connected to the villagers so you actually care when shit goes down. tp has one of the best stories in the franchise and THE best link and i truly believe that. tp link has so much personality and his connections to characters feel real. it also has some of the best dungeons in the franchise, this is a take many people share at least so i know i'm not tripping on that one

[astramthetaprime]

And the Wave Hits

So. Lost my job on Friday. The contract ran out and was not renewed.

It feels good to have some time off, I've been tired. But at the same time, y'know, I'm doing applications again. But thanks to paying off the house and all the rest, I'm not actually in a bad position at the moment. So I'm in a weird lacuna where yeah, Trouble is In The Air but at the same time Imma Taking It Easy.

The Year of the Jackpot has now run to sixteen months. We're in overtime gameplay.

My therapist yesterday encouraged me to try to get published, use this time to work on my writing and associated skills. Which, yeah, I'm always in favor of that. In an academic way, really, so to speak.

I'm a coward, honestly. Fear of rejection kicks the hell out of perfectly valid skillz and abilities and deprives the world of good quality content. I have no actual concrete reason to believe my work would be rejected, btw. But fear needs no reason, only implication of a reason.

For most of my life I've shoved print-outs into people's hands saying "read this, read this, please!" The vast majority of the time the prints have been put aside with an obviously fake smile "sure, I will" and never another word. They're forgotten, or tossed in the trash after. I don't get feedback, good or bad. Very rarely, I get vague "it was good, it was fine". No specifics. Just ... nothing.

So I stopped trying to get feedback. I don't talk about my stuff, I rarely print anything out, and I don't try to get people to read my stuff. No one wants to know, no one has time. No one cares. I've never seen any evidence that anyone near to me cared. My mother outright hated science-fiction, and the rest of my family either doesn't care or considers genre fiction of any sort to be garbage.

My dad would have read it, and that would have been good enough for me. But, well ... he was dead long before I ever really got started.

So yeah, I write all this stuff, hundreds of thousands of words, and never submit it anywhere or try to get anyone to read it. Because I figure it's not worth it, it's not good enough, and no one cares.

People care about the fanfic, and AO3 is a hothouse environment because people are actively reading ships and fandoms and actively commenting. That's like building one of those zero-tick farming machines in Minecraft, where you've got a dispenser chucking bone meal onto one square of tilled dirt and you've standing there with carrots in one hand and a hoe in the other and it's instant villager food by the ton. In original fiction, in the real-world publishing biz, especially these days where everybody is producing content, it's a mosh pit fight to get eyes on your work. We're all competing for a finite resource, readers' time and attention. Someday when we've got robots doing all the jobs and none of us have to work and money is no object, we'll all have much more time to read. But right now, when we're all trying to survive? No. People read when and as they can, if they can, if they care to.

I come from an era where you had to have perfect copy arranged to very specific margins and double spaced, single-sided pages, your print had to be absolutely perfect or an editor would toss it out without reading the first page. And then they might toss it at the second page when your characters didn't immediately grab his attention. Or at page 30 when they realized your theme was something he didn't agree with. Maybe not so much in sci-fi, we're more open-minded than that thanks to our entire genre being based on differences. But still. Editors were the enemy and you had to work your ass off to convince them your story was worth bothering with.

And now, there doesn't have to be an editor at all. Anyone can print anything whenever wherever. Do everything from cover art to ebook to audiobook to promotion. Or if you can't do it yourself, you can hire other people to do it for you. There's no gatekeeper to convince. And one wonders what that does for quality, because the gatekeepers of old were the arbiters of that.

I don't know precisely where I stand on the subject now.

But I've thought I may teach myself how to do prompts in Midjourney, to do my own cover art. And there's Reedsy.com. And ACX. And my old ebook publisher sent me my latest royalty payment from a book that they published in 2003 and is still selling one or two copies every six months. I made a whole $1.73. Maybe they'd like to take a look at some of my old stuff.

The future isn't all sunshine and rainbows. Sometimes it's just as much worry and bad decisions. But it happens nonetheless.

As ever, for you Sir Arthur, with my fondest regards.

[inksandpensblog]

It disturbs me that new wave whump is not about pain and struggle but about patheticness and coddling. It disturbs me that increasingly the only character with agency or individuality or even personality in whump narratives is the caretaker. It disturbs me that the caretaker and their magnanimity is becoming the focus of the narrative rather than the whumpee and their struggle.

Ohmygosh thank you. I am gonna lean a bit more heavily into the writing-mechanics angle but--

I've noticed in a lot of whump that the caretakers will just. Take control. Honestly in terms of controlling the whumpee they could have the whumper beat but it's framed as a good thing because they're controlling whumpee to make soft and nice things happen to them instead of harsh and cruel things. Whumper controls whumpee for themself but caretaker controls whumpee for whumpee's sake. Whumpee needs caretaker's control while needing to escape whumper's control.

But like. That doesn't mean they aren't being controlling. And sometimes I wonder if the authors realize what they're doing. Because it's framed as rescue and it's framed as relief and the loss of whumpee's agency is apparently only a bad thing if it's whumper that they lose it to. Or maybe whumpee never had agency to begin with, not in a whumpy "loss of agency" trope way but in a story-construction way. They're written as a plot device to prompt the caretaker to act, not as an active character in and of themself. Whumpees should still be characters in caretaker-centric stories.

And I'm not talking about carewhumper situations. No, these caretakers are being written as a straightforward caretakers. And it just frustrates me so much and I can't pin down what about it makes it so frustrating.

And I get it, like. Being able to save someone is a power fantasy as much as being able to hurt someone or being able to survive the hurt. But when saving doesn't involve restoring power to the saved it starts to seem a bit odd, and I have gripes.

I wouldn't necessarily say that the struggle of the whumpee must be the focus, people can write whump from whatever angle they want; but I think the struggle of the whumpee should be a struggle for the caretaker too. It's an ongoing interaction.

I'm not even sure if I've correctly identified the source of this issue, this is just the closest I've been able to get.

[anecdotal contrariness below the cut]

.

Like, I have a whump character who I enjoy putting in caretaker positions, and yeah I like it when he gets everything right, but the way I see it is it's about the back-and-forth. He can't take the lead all the time because the whumpee continues to respond to him so he's gotta respond to the whumpee in turn. And he can't always respond perfectly. He wants to get everything right but he doesn't always know what the right thing to do is, so he has to observe and, y'know, actually consider what would help whumpee most in that moment. He can't just decide he knows better than whumpee what's best for them.

Also he's like. A pretty emotionally volatile character himself, in most iterations? He is not equipped to shoulder anyone else's emotional wellbeing long-term.

What he has going for him as a caretaker is mostly that he himself was a whumpee in the past so it's real easy for him to put himself in the designated whumpee's shoes if their situation bears enough similarity to his own history. He's also observant, and he can read people pretty well when he's not caught in his own head, so he's usually very responsive to whumpee and can adjust his approach on a dime. He's protective, willing to put himself between a whumpee and danger no matter what form that danger takes.

He also tends to deflect stress with humor, which the whumpees often don't appreciate. He also believes that whumpees won't trust that he's helping out of earnest heartfelt compassion, and tries to come up with a practical or pragmatic reason to convince them of his intent instead despite those reasons not being his true motivation. He also has triggers that affect his ability to think clearly, which has an impact on his interactions with whumpees.

In regards to the topical issue of this thread, I've sort of begun making a mental list of things this guy has done as a caretaker during roleplays with my friends that I feel like I'd never see in "new wave whump" caretakers (I say "things he's done" because I try to roleplay him according to my understanding of his character instead of according to my understanding of whump conventions):

[First encounter with whumpee]: Halts his approach when whumpee shrinks away, gives whumpee an opening to act (whumpee doesn't act, whumpee remains frozen in place), verbally acknowledges that he doesn't know why whumpee is apprehensive of him, reassures whumpee against one possible source of apprehension, states his immediate intentions towards whumpee, waits for a signal from whumpee before resuming his approach. .

[Interacting with a forcibly-muted whumpee]: Communicates with whumpee nonverbally as well as verbally (whumpee is not deaf, whumpee can still hear him). .

[Treating whumpee's wounds]: Gives whumpee a cloth to hold in place, therefore getting whumpee involved in their own healing and letting whumpee have control over a part of the proceedings. .

[Trying to comfort a touch-averse whumpee]: Is used to offering and seeking comfort primarily through touch, practically begs the unsure whumpee to let him touch them just so he can offer comfort in a way that's most intuitive to him, is too caught up in his own emotional distress over whumpee's situation and his inability to save them to realize how his expressiveness might be influencing whumpee to choose based on what will pacify him rather than what whumpee actually wants, only gets ahold of himself when whumpee rhetorically asks if refusal isn't an option, is reminding himself as much as he's reassuring whumpee when he states that his actions will lose meaning if he can't respect whumpee's choice. (Touch is a method of communication and comfort for caretaker; but for whumpee, touch has only ever been something that degrades. Whumpee registers all touch as either manhandling or punishment.) .

[Examining, treating, guiding, and shielding a touch-averse whumpee]: Registers that whumpee's initial permission to approach is less permission and more surrender, gets down on whumpee's level, thanks whumpee every time they respond, seeks before anything to assuage whumpee's fear, verbally empathizes with whumpee's fear and position, telegraphs his intent, promises whumpee that their misgivings (about what he wants to do to them) have merit and that he'll listen to them; believes that whumpee will lose their fear if he can prove that all his touches are kind, demonstrates consistent caution and attentiveness in offering opportunities for whumpee to withdraw consent, fails to realize that the kindness of the touch doesn't matter because whumpee perceives every touch as control taken over their person by another (even once they trust that caretaker will desist if they indicate to him that the touch is painful), fails to realize that the reason whumpee doesn't take these opportunities is because they're generally resigned to whatever the other person in the room decides is going to happen to them. (Caretaker assumes that whumpee's fear has been assuaged when they decide to trust him, when in truth whumpee is constantly reevaluating the situation every moment. Caretaker assumes that whumpee is using the autonomy he's trying to return to them; but while whumpee does listen and does use their autonomy to communicate and interact with caretaker, they never use it to refuse caretaker or communicate their discomfort with what caretaker is doing.) .

[Preparing to leave behind a whumpee he can't rescue]: Has to decide between whumpee's physical comfort or whumpee's peace of mind, picks the latter because whumpee's physical suffering is rooted in their will being ignored and giving them back their agency is more respectful than just making them comfortable against their will. .

[Framed as caretaker in early section while later sections recontextualize him as having been a carewhumper]: Spends the early section deciding he knows what's best for whumpee while never seeking feedback from whumpee and only keeping whumpee informed at his own convenience, grants whumpee's requests when asked but never inquires if whumpee has requests, organizes activities for whumpee's health and socialization but doesn't think to give whumpee anything to occupy themself with when they're alone; later realizes that despite providing aid to whumpee and facilitating whumpee's recovery he never actually listened to whumpee (special irony given to the hypocrisy of how he left whumpee unheard despite arranging treatment for whumpee's damaged voice), verbally and explicitly frames this as a failure on his part and apologizes to whumpee. .

[Planning to take whumpees to somewhere safer, enemies-to-friends situation]: Acknowledges that whumpees' utter dependence on his mercy makes it impossible for them to call each other friends without the dynamic being extremely unhealthy, maintains that sending them away (or allowing them to leave) is the only integrous option despite all parties wanting more time together, confesses how easily he could just keep whumpees there with him in the name of having more time together while also making it clear that doing so would be a treacherous abuse of his power over them, reasserts that all parties can't truly declare friendship until they part ways with him. .

[confesses to a murder he committed before a villain whumpee who is suppressing a lot of complicated grief born of having accidentally killed a former friend]: Promises to accept whumpee's will with the same respect and seriousness even if this confession causes whumpee to lose their trust of him, promises that whumpee is not risking his goodwill by judging him (whumpee had been severely hurt by the judgement of others, and before coming to trust caretaker had feared that caretaker would judge them and therefore hurt them), bows to whumpee's judgement and resigns himself to the the implicit hurt that whumpee could cause him with it, thereby ceding all the social power of their dynamic to whumpee. (After doing his best for the whole roleplay to lift up whumpee and demonstrate that he regards them as an equal, it isn't until this moment that they truly feel balanced; this moment demonstrates that caretaker sees whumpee as an equal in a completely different way than just the compassion and kindness did.)

Sorry I don't mean to sound like I'm tooting my own horn I'm just. Fascinated by the differences. Every time I write whump situations with this guy and I let them play out organically they rarely go the direction that I see a lot of "new wave" whump go. And it's not entirely down to me, because in all these examples I was only writing for the caretaker and the whumpee was written by a friend, so of course the whumpee was gonna be more active, but I still feel like there's something there.