#beautiful storytelling

[duckielover151]

Clearly, Ouran's gonna be my thing for a while. I just keep finding new meaning in little details that make them even more beautiful.

The final storyline of the anime, culminating in seeing firsthand just how bad things are with Kyoya's father and getting Tamaki's troubled family history is so, so good.

Not just because those are interesting storylines. But because it proves a point I'm not sure was even intentional: as much as they've been ragging on Haruhi all series long for being a "commoner..." she's rich in ways they're not. She has the classic tragic protag backstory of having a dead mother... but by a long shot, she still has the best family relationship of any of the other hosts.

One of my absolute favorite details is at the start of the last episode, where she's stressed about the club potentially shutting down and Tamaki leaving, and her dad tells her that he knows she's upset because she skipped breakfast. Something she apparently hasn't done since the morning of her mother's funeral.

And, like, we already knew Ranka loved his daughter. But consider the implications to this particular detail. It's not just that he knows her well enough to notice something out of place in her routine. We know that he works a job that keeps him out late into the night. That it's breakfast specifically that gave her away means that he makes a point to get up early to see his daughter before she leaves for school each day. And that makes me super emotional.

I had a parent who worked 3rd shift. We never questioned that this meant we'd just see her at different times of the day. (And I'm not judging her for not getting up to see us off each morning or anything!) It's just really important to me that everyone recognizes the extra effort Ranka put in.

There's enough shitty anime parents out there. I love to shout out the good ones when I can.

[crookshanks23]

Season 1, Episode 28: The Bridges of Dad and Son County

Favorite Moment: The reveal at the end.

General Thoughts:

Oh man, the sad Scam Likely hold music. Forgot about that one.

So, the way I've been doing these is that I start these drafts and then leave my draft open while I'm listening. I'll occasionally pause the episode when something hilarious, thought-provoking, or something I forgot about pops up, I'll type it into my notes and then resume the episode.

I took almost no notes on this episode because I was just enjoying the re-listen. It was hard to turn my brain on for analyzing. So, I only typed up the bit about the Scam Likely hold music at the beginning. Because when I do a lot of my re-listens, I skip the intros and table talk to get right into the episode, so I've forgotten a lot of these intros and dad facts.

This is one of those episodes that is just so engrossing for me. The plan is put into motion. And it succeeds. And the best part - it succeeds with a twist.

Grant was able to keep the orb, getting all the kids back to the van, Doug was able to pilot the drone, and the dads "successfully" communicated with the purple robes to make it out to the bridge. These are some of the moments that make players feel awesome and powerful. When a plan goes well and they're rolling great.

But then Anthony throws in this great reveal. The bad dudes? Yeah, the ones that have been annoying them and telling them they're bad dads? Turns out, they're their fathers. My mind was blown on my first listen. Definitely one of those moments, where I verbalized my "whhaaaaa????" that usually just happens in my head. It doesn't matter how many times I listen to it - this reveal is so cool to me. I've listened to the last 10 minutes of this episode probably 20-30 times (and I've only been listening since January).

Next episode - one of my favorite combats. And a true introduction to the man we all love to hate: Willy Stampler.

[bizarrelittlemew]

i can't wait to be 30+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 40+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 50+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 60+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 70+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 80+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 90+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to look back on my life and know that i loved things deeply and passionately and was inspired to create and was part of communities with incredible people from all over the world brought together by the stories that touched us

[n1ightw1ng]

Like how boring is it for them to be like "from childhood Jason was born to be Reckless and Homicidal" and then in current canon he's just some guy who hangs out with the bats and doesn't kill or use guns or have a significant difference of opinion with any of them? So we remove the actual tragedy of Jason's death, or remove the tragedy from Jason's hands, since yknow the only thing that matters is that Bruce failed to "save" him from himself, and then Jason is not even a character with significant negative presence anymore. What is the point of any of it? I mean that sincerely, like... who gives a shit, then? If you can be evil from childhood and fated to die because you're poor and mean, and then immortalized in a more important character's story as the Mean and Bad Failure, and then you just get reduced to a vaguely bad-boy character who is as willing to cooperate and be obedient as everyone else (and in that I mean roughly as disobedient as everyone else, too, not significantly different in how often he argues or what opinions he argues with), then what . Is the Point. Of the Story.

[sunlight-shunlight]

thinking about veilguard and bioware in general, i think we are reaching a point where people need to grapple with the inherent limits of what stories can be told in our Current Society and in AAA gaming companies.

on a labour level: mass layoffs, tons of developers leaving despite previously talking about how passionate and happy they were to be involved, not even paying severance, and crunching employees to the point of burnout. this is unfortunately pretty standard for AAA game companies.

on a cultural level: it is SO white and SO centrist-ly Canadian. i wrote up these asks outlining how. it is a repeated pattern of writing in which they go into tortured racial oppression allegories at best, while constantly peppering in a "but BOTH SIDES were wrong and made mistakes :( :( :(", in between their fictional atrocities that are clearly mirroring irl genocides and enslavement. or at worst, it's "the qunari are radical islamic borg" which has even less nuance. i personally thought, since dai came out in 2014, and a lot has changed since then about the world and in public awareness, that this would have filtered into the narrative and resulted in more satisfying and historically grounded writing. unfortunately not the case. it's shocking if you compare it to how sharp and aware and unflinching something like disco elysium is.

so what does this mean?

under these conditions, it is unavoidable that we get development by people who are rapidly cycled out of the company or demoralized into burnout. we get digestible, easy little soundbites of lore without much substance, because any complexity needs more time and coordination rather than the process of "quick, we have these assets, a lot of people involved in making them just got laid off, we need to make Something by next quarter to show the CEO". we get very little cohesion between games, despite the clear intent from dai to have so many plot points set up to follow through in a sequel, because the team and development are so chaotic that they can't hold onto a vision and complete it.

we also get this inherent caution and "conservatism" from the narrative, because on an ideological level, they're largely white people who want cops to be included in pride. so any major change to even a fictional society is Bad and Scary, and shouldn't be done without making sure that every character finger-wags appropriately at non-state violence. there is clearly not much ideological or even ethnic diversity within the leadership; or at least not enough that anyone there felt comfortable even speaking up on minor issues like the Incredibly Orientalist Isabela Outfit, let alone anything larger.

i don't personally think there's too much value in trying to analyze veilguard's plot or lore at this point. the final product is chaotically developed and does not seem to reflect the goals of the creators as set up in prior games, it's basically a ship of theseus in terms of the people and ideas involved in making it. this is sad for all of us, who were interested in the story, and attached to the characters, and were creatively fulfilled by engaging in the fandom. it's probably worse for the developers who have lost their jobs, burnt out, or feel unhappy with the game that they spent years of their life working on. it's certainly miserable as an indictment of The Industry, as well as the general societal climate of white Canadian centrism.

the solution is to create a society where people can develop games in peace and prosperity and stay on projects for longer, rather than constantly getting turfed out without severance pay. and to get some genuine leftists, poc, and indigenous people on staff who can weigh in and provide significant input, rather than a Council Of Liberal White Edmontonians every time.

in the meantime, at the very least, let's please stop preordering AAA games and supporting companies who notably abuse their employees.

[brummiereader]

DAISY! I got it wrong...I said I thought it was Tommy in your WIP snippet 🤦‍♀️! But it's our cheeky John ❤️, how could it not be!

Oh god this story....😭.I can see how you broke your own heart writing it. I had no idea how it was going to end whilst I was reading it. I kept thinking back to its title, so I had my suspicions, but no...it was so much more heartbreaking 💔😢. Your write this beautifully hun, it's absolutely stunning. From their meeting to her having a baby to him going to France then coming back.

My heart exploded with love when his daughter showed him the picture she had been carrying of her daddy 😩, so bloody adorable!

I honestly got so nervous at the hanging part, I thought maybe that's where everything would end. But then when it got to the Christmas card part my heart sunk, I knew he wouldn't get lucky again. Daisy...😭😭! This part was so heartbreaking, I thought she had got injured and not him, but then when you wrote how she turned her head to see John on the floor with blood coming out his mouth, the image of it appeared instantly in my mind, you wrote it so perfectly I felt I was experiencing it.

THE ENDING...now I thought with the title there might be an afterlife plot within the story and there was 😯🤍! Wow, I've never read something where both of the main characters are together in this way, it was incredibly gripping! For a very quick moment I thought Y/N was dead and John had survived and she was watching him in the afterlife, but when he came to her and hugged her, I was in shock! It was so heartbreaking to think their children have no parents anymore. But unbeknownst to them their parents are looking down on them guiding them, which was a beautiful touch to end the story. I loved the small supernatural feel to it, and I'm still very curious as to who the man John made a deal with was , an angel? A devil? Or some otherworldly being. Incredible story, that stirred up lots of emotions. Well done, I absolutely loved it ❤️ !

Guardian Angel

John Shelby x reader

A/N: I have arrived, ready to break your hearts just like I broke my own while writing it. This was inspired by a prompt I found, I kept thinking about it so I decided to write it but I gave it my own twist. The prompt is added at the end so there won’t be any spoilers just yet. 

I put on a sad playlist to get inspiration. One song stood out and really helped me write it, I just had it on repeat at some point. I think it fits well so if you’d like to listen to it while reading, it’s this song:

Lost without you by Freya Ridings 

Warnings: Death, mentions of blood, guns, swearing, mentions of their almost hanging in S4, I added a few canon things in here but it’s not really canon. You’ll recognize them. In summary: ANGST (I take NO credits for the phrases/scenes that were used in the series)

Word count: 5462

Every time things took a turn for the worst, there was somehow a way out. Except for now. 

(Y/N) and John met each other in 1912 while she unintentionally and unwillingly became a part of John’s theft of cigarettes and too expensive whiskey, saving him from a lot of trouble that afternoon.

He never forgot the girl who helped him. Or well, he might’ve forced the help just a little when he ran past her and crammed the cigarette packages and bottle in her already full basket. He fled immediately because he was still being followed by a furious shop owner. 

Nobody would expect such a beautiful girl to help out someone like him, so he knew his loot was safe.

John went looking for her when the commotion had settled. Thinking she might went home but soon enough found her on the corner of the street, looking angry and helpless at the same time. His eyes twinkled and a big grin grew on his face when he had approached her. “Thank you for that.” 

Keep reading

[illustratus]

Scheherazade and the Sultan by Alfred Choubrac

[hannahssimblr]

On the bike again, sun high, cutting through salted road tracks around Fairview Park. Over the Tolka, the Royal Canal, O’Connell Bridge across the Liffey—water like slush in there, churning instead of flowing. I could do this ride with my eyes shut. A hundred times, weaving the city’s arteries, knowing them like the veins on my wrist. But under snow, Dublin is extraterrestrial. A surreal experience as the lights turn amber to red, pedestrian crossing clicking with nobody to cross. Shadows are sharp and perfect as the old Georgians along the quay throw geometric shapes like paper cutouts. My gears clunk, chain clicking, careening around Westmoreland Street. Tyres bump over tram tracks. Barricades of snow, shovel-blackened, line the edge of every road. Icy wind in my face draws tears from the corners of my eyes as I pedal on. 

Jen’s living in Ranelagh these days. Basement flat of a little redbrick place off Sallymount Avenue. It’s horrendous in that sort of authentic Dublin way. Obligatory bathroom mould, kind of thing. Paint on one side of the house is bubbling with damp, and the perpetual smell of old cigarettes permeates every corner. A film of sticky yellow residue from a long departed smoker still clings to the low ceilings, which I ran my finger though the last time I visited. Rolled it into a gooey dust ball and stuck it in Jen's face when she was trying to wash the dishes.

She’s in her bedroom painting her toes when I haul my bicycle through the weeds and chain it to the fence. I pound my fist on the window and frighten her. Mouth in a startled little O before she grins at me, her usual wicked smile. A mouth full of short, rounded teeth. 

“Well you. Are you chilly?” she says, unlatching the door.

“Yeah,” I launch myself inside, grabbing her head and kissing the top of it a dozen times while she cackles. She’s done something weird to her hair again, half white, half black, split down the middle like Cruella De Vil. “Any luck with those dalmatians?” I ask. She ignores me and slams the door behind us. 

“Welcome home, stranger,” she heads for the kitchen, MDF cabinets bloated with water damage. Barefoot, her heels are blackened from the dirt of the floor. “Will you have a coffee?”

“Yeah, thanks. That’d be really nice.” Seat myself at the table then. Textbooks strewn about, eyes glazing over the titles as the kettle boils and she spoons instant coffee into a mug. “How’s college?”

“Shite. How about you?”

“It’s alright.”

“Are they still wanking themselves off over your paintings over in Berlin? Turner the Wonderboy.”

I just smile. “I’m doing fine.”

She throws her head back in a laugh. “Say no more. And the rest of it all? The job?”

“Oh, Christ.” Weakened from even thinking about it, I have to put my head on the table. 

“Not great, is it?” Jen sinks into the seat opposite and slides the mug to me. I hold it, slightly too hot to touch, and let the warmth prickle through my palms. Staring into its murky depths like a crystal ball, while chunks of undissolved grounds float about the surface. A pair of eyes laden with dark circles stare back. 

“Do I look corpse-like these days? I feel like I’m sort of rotting from the inside out.”

“No. Sure you’re only gorgeous. You get more gorgeous every time I see you.”

“Hmph.”

“Welcome to the working world,” she says, her glee barely disguised. I’m starting to see things for how they are now, in a depressing sort of way. Looking back on things I said to her before, about not affording things or not feeling welcome in certain places, and cringing about it. To know I was ignorant and spoiled, going about my life with my nose in the air while my friends faced struggles beyond my comprehension. Even last year, when Jen moved here, I told her to pick a nicer place. Somewhere with natural light, closer to town, assuming my logic was flawless. I want to tear through the fabric of time and sock myself across the jaw. 

Sipping her coffee, Jen leans back and gazes out the tiny window into the yard out back. It’s a tip out there. A nearby business uses it to store its bins and dump its miscellaneous waste, though nobody actually knows if they have permission to do so. “And how’s the lovely miss Astrid? The most recent pics I saw of ye were off in Slovenia or somewhere, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah, our anniversary trip. That was November. She’s fine. She’s…” I trail off and stare at the table. The upstairs neighbour crosses the room overhead, the thump of feet shaking the ceiling. The TV goes on. It’s so loud we can hear every word of the afternoon weather report. “She’s doing well with her ceramics,” I manage. “She’s got an exhibition on next week, which she’s pretty excited about.”

“Oh, wow, yeah. Good for her.” Jen’s smiling encouragingly, eager to show that my relationship with Astrid doesn’t bother her. Wants me to know she supports the choices I have made, even if lately I don’t even really support them myself. It’s my fault it’s like this anyway, with Jen, I mean. The times she’s expressed doubts about the fairness or ethics of my relationship, I’ve made her feel like her opinion is an imposition. Defending Astrid, like, no, she doesn’t mean it like that/I know it sounds bad, but it’s just the way she says it/She finds it hard to sound sincere. “I just care about you,” she said glumly during a call, and I made sure to smile, so it came across in my voice. “I know, Jen, and I love that about you. It’s just that it’s hard to ‘get’ a relationship when you’re not in it. I don’t want to feel you’re judging her when you actually just don’t know her.” Eventually, Jen stopped venturing beyond the realm of small-talk. This bright smile is her way of staying out of it.

“I’ve seen her ceramics online, actually. They’re cool,” she says.

“Oh, yeah? You think?”

“I followed her on Instagram a while back, yeah,” her smile strains before she adds, “they’re not ceramics you’d have clattering around your kitchen, though, are they? They’re a bit out there.”

“Yeah, so basically they’re not meant to be functional. They’re meant to reflect, like, states of metamorphosis and conflict, creating, um, organic shapes inspired by human figures and the landscapes of northern France where she has spent a lot of time. She fires them multiple times to kinda represent the passage of time. It’s a whole statement, rather than, you know, a mug to have your tea out of.”

“Aw yeah. Dead cool. I wouldn’t have got all that from looking at them.”

Silence. Jen takes a slow sip of her coffee, eyes flicking toward the window. “All good to see Shane later?”

“Yeah. That dinner thing? Of course. Why?”

She nods, still looking out, like she’s working something out in her head. Then: “Did he—” She stops. Frowns slightly. “Never mind.”

I sit up. “What?”

“It’s nothing.”

I just look at her.

She sighs. “Did he text you about Evie’s birthday thing?”

A jolt of energy moves between us. “No,” I say, carefully. “He didn’t.”

“Oh.” A wince. “Shit. He probably meant to. You know what he’s like. Or maybe he texted me and assumed I’d text you, which is my bad…” she does not stop speaking, and I do not stop her, both knowing if I allow her to go on, we will not have to acknowledge the situation, as the room tips slightly, becoming unreal.

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s totally fine,” I hear myself saying in between gaps in her words, weaving in and out of her cyclical ramblings, reassuring myself, really. “Simple mistake. It’s no big deal. It’s fine, it’s fine. Jen. Nobody’s fault.”

“No, but we don’t have to go,” she’s saying. “I told him maybe, you know, maybe if we felt like going, but it’s going to be mostly people from her college, I think. It could be completely be weird if we went, you know? Since we don’t know her anymore, really, do we?”

“No, you’re right, yeah. We wouldn’t have to.”

“And when I saw her months ago, she said she doesn’t care about any of it anymore, so.”

I stop. “You saw her?”

Jen blinks. “Yeah, yeah. I saw her at some bar. Did I not tell you that either?”

“Uh, no. I think I’d remember if you did.”

“Oh. Oh. Well, yeah… I was out one Friday in this bar on Dame Lane. One of those horrible swanky places where cocktails are like a million euro. Ran into her in the toilets fixing her makeup.” Her eyes flicker away, avoiding mine. “I didn’t even know it was her at first. She was like… I dunno, like, all sharp angles, tiny little dress with her whole back out. Different, you know?”

Leaning forward now, chewing on that word. Different. Fascinated by its implications. The feeling she’s some unlockable character, an outline with features unrevealed. Discover myself loathing the idea of change. I don’t want it. I want her to be where I left her, on that beach, lying on a beach towel in some perpetual summer, waiting for me to come back. 

“How?”

She shrugs, a forced gesture. “Oh, like, she just looked like she belonged there.” 

“That’s not what you actually mean.”

She presses her lips together. “Okay, well, like, she was cold, Jude. I tried to bring up that summer, just to clear the air, say I was sorry for sticking my nose in, but she shut it down. Properly shut it down. Acted like I was dragging up ancient history that no one but me even cared about.”

A flicker of something ugly moves through me. “Right.”

“She actually said, why are you talking to me about this?” she shakes her head. “Like I was a weirdo.”

“Oh.”

“And then about half an hour later,” Jen hesitates, then, knowing the next part will land wrong. Saying it anyway. “She was outside, tongue kissing some guy in the smoking area like her life depended on it.”

A sharp pulse in my stomach. I have to glance away. “Really?”

“Yes.” She lowers her voice to a gossipy whisper. “Aggressively. Like she wanted people to see.”

A beat of silence. We look at each other. “Well,” I say, my voice light and detached as I can manage. “I suppose she can do what she wants, can’t she?”

“Yeah, power to the women, et cetera. He wasn’t handsome, by the way. He was kind of vegetarian looking.”

I squint. “I don’t actually give a shit how vegetarian-looking the men she kisses are. That’s not something I’m up at night wondering about.” 

She laughs. “Oh, right, well, I’m just saying. Anyway, that’s just reminded me I have to tell you about this lad my mate was going out with. Talk about weird men. He was into improv comedy, and the first date, took her to an open mic comedy show…” 

I stare blankly while she talks. Words swimming around me like abstract sounds muffled behind a screen. Sharp angles. She said. Where? Her cheeks? Her hips? A vision of said backless dress, curve of her spine, leaning over a sink. Blue lights. The Evie in my head covers her face in embarrassment at the thought of wearing a dress like that. “God, no,” she cries. “You wouldn’t catch me dead. I’d never.” 

“... and he bombed.” Jen says with emphasis. “Like, nobody laughed. They actually heckled him.”

“Oh, gas.” I reply. 

And kissing this vegetarian-looking guy. What is it with that? Liam from the surf shack was relatively vegetarian-looking, thinking back on it, wasn’t he? Big leather sandals on him. Is that actually just what she likes? Feeling threatened now by men who get the lentil burger off the pub menu. I could take him down onto the floor in three seconds with the power of animal protein. I boast to imaginary Evie inside my head. She’s not listening to me. Her boyfriend is showing her how he makes deodorant out of coconut oil. 

“... she went on a second date too, after all that. And it was so much worse…”

I drain my coffee, drum my fingers on the side of the mug. Get up and wander towards the window and look out of it. “Mm. Some guys are just so fucking weird,” I say as Jen expands the universe of this nightmare date, introducing the element of one-sided polyamory. 

“... anyway, she’s better at telling the story. I’ll get her to tell you herself. Hey, maybe after dinner I'll invite her over. We could grab a few cans and just hang out here. What do you think?”

I’m fixated on a robin, hopping from one snowy twig to the next. “Hm? No. I think I’ll go to the party.”

She stops. Makes a sound that isn’t quite a laugh. “Wait, are you messing?” 

“No, whatever. We’ll just swing by and say hello.”

I don’t look around to see her reaction, but feel it, a charge in the air. “Jude, like… Sorry, but what’s the point of that?”

“A few drinks. It’ll be fine. Just say happy birthday to her, and then we can go. I just want to be civil.” 

“Okay.. are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. It’s not a big deal. It’s not like that anymore between us anyway, you know? She doesn’t care, and I obviously don’t care either. It’s just, like, two old friends running into each other.”

She doesn’t speak for a moment, then with resignation, says, “alright, I suppose if that’s what you want to do.”

I stretch. Easygoing. Roll my neck and shoulders, shaking something off me. “Yeah. It’ll be fine. It’s casual.”

The silence sits between us, stretching out as she watches me, waiting for something. But I don’t give her anything. Nothing to give. 

 Outside, the robin takes fright and flits away, disappearing into the perfect blue sky. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[mmoofykins]

Umm

I am literally so scared to post this u don't understand haha

Fanart for Cass apocalyptic series by @somerandomdudelmao

[chaoskilled-dinosaurs-darling]

Liv’s speech about not wanting to do what people expect of her anymore was felt in my soul and sent my late 20’s ass right back to being 18 and I didn’t not care for it

[chompe-diem]

hey. don't cry. audible smile in brian murphy's voice when he says "...but it's good when your friends look out for you" ok?

[iolausian-fields]

Yes to all of this. 💜

We know they love each other and we know they want to spend the rest of their lives all of their reincarnated lifetimes together. Who needs more details than that?

Sometimes less is more.

Happy Valentine’s Day to Xena and Gabrielle. My all-time favourite WLW ship in all of TV art/entertainment.

One of the most beautiful things about watching the TV show is watching this reformed Warrior Princess fall in love. Xena would be the last person to admit that she’s a romantic but I think it’s pretty clear to see that she is from the way she looks at Gabrielle. She always looks so genuinely happy and grateful to have her in her life. Especially after Gabrielle reveals that she loves her too. That seems to make a big difference to her demeanour.

Like most fans, I believe they evolved from friends into lovers after ‘The Quest’. It feels like the right time for it. However, I don’t think they were able to fully express their feelings for each other until ‘A Day In The Life’… when all the high-intensity drama had died down and they had nothing to do but admit that there was more between them and basically just bask in the revelation.

Like Lucy said at the 30th anniversary Xena convention panel: It was a beautiful thing the way the relationship evolved. The way that they went from being strangers to eternal life partners. From subtext to explicitly gay.

The fact that YOU get to decide when that moment was because they kept it ambiguous enough to interpret for the audience watching might be frustrating for some… but for me, I think it’s one of the greatest things about them being a WLW ship because their love story is one of the most natural, authentic and deep I’ve ever seen.

I never get tired of watching it and I know I never will.

I’m happy to see that more people are discovering this WLW ship and appreciating the sincerity and value of the representation they provided then because they truly are the blueprint and greenlight to everything we have now - and despite that - still hold up remarkably well to today’s offerings with WLW representation. I’ve watched a lot of TV shows with WLW ships in - both canon and non-canon - and not one matches up to them due to the fact both are the only lead characters. The closest I’ve come is Waverly and Nicole from ‘Wynonna Earp’ but even they don’t hold a candle when it comes to how in-depth their relationship is and how intertwined they are as a lead character WLW dynamic.

To truly understand the significance of this WLW ship, you have to see it with your own eyes. So if you have heard of this WLW ship before but have never seen a single episode of ‘Xena: Warrior Princess’, then do yourselves a favour and go watch at least this episode because this is the episode that best showcases how well these two lead female characters work together as a dynamic. It’s not plot-heavy. It doesn’t really spoil anything if you’re worried about that. Just watch it.

You can tell me whether they’re worth the six seasons. You already know my answer. Long-form TV show WLW ships don’t really exist anymore if they ever really did. You don’t get a journey with them. You rarely even get more than a season. One or the other in the WLW ship either dies, breaks up and leaves, or the show just gets cancelled without a conclusion for them and their arcs.

Xena and Gabrielle are a WLW journey. They’re worth it.

There is of course far more to ‘Xena: Warrior Princess’ than just WLW representation but it is very significant. Many a suitor may fall for the Warrior Princess but she really only ever opens her heart to her best friend all throughout her arc - and as I said - that’s one of the most beautiful things about watching this TV show.

[isingofvioletsandaquill]

Being a fledgling fan of Transplanar is great because it's making me go "wait a minute... are there enough butches in my campaign setting?"

And then when I start brainstorming a new butch, I go "hmmm... is this adequate?"

And then a little spirit in the shape of Connie Chang appears in my mind palace and says, "make them even more butch. Also, make at least two butches if you're adding characters, why would you leave it at one?"

"Thank you, specter of Connie Chang," I say, and then furiously start typing in my lore doc.

[isolated-ink]

Take me where the forest meets the ocean

In her mind, she could almost see him. A figure in the shadows, watching her with quiet, steady eyes. There was something about him that felt safe, yet dangerous all at once. Not the kind of danger that would hurt her, but the kind that came from carrying his own pain, his own battles. His presence felt like a warm fire on a cold night—comforting, but with a power she couldn’t ignore.

She imagined the way he’d hold her, not to keep her trapped but to remind her she wasn’t alone. He wouldn’t need grand words or promises; his actions would speak for him. A warm hand on hers, a hug that lasted just long enough to chase the shadows away. Even in silence, she would feel it: “I’m here. I see you.”

But she couldn’t ignore the darkness in him, either. It wasn’t cruel or selfish—it was the kind of darkness that came from surviving hard things, the same kind she carried in herself. It scared her a little, but it also made her feel less alone.

[hoarderheart]

Okay, I know that “it’s actually originally meant to show the passage of time instead of being bi colors” and all that…disregarding how that’s such a vibrant pink and a harsh, rigid, and very linear gradient for a supposed sunset, and that it’s already night (not sunset or twilight) at the crypt, whatever.

But regardless, I think putting a suspiciously bi-colored gradient behind cross-shaped bars, in the climax scene of the arc where Angel of the Lord Castiel’s heavenly biological family—who considers his deep connection with a man named Dean Winchester to be “corrupt,” as it is something that pulls him away from Heaven and is therefore forbidden and punishable under their rules—brainwashes him into detaching himself away from and almost killing said man, after they have chosen to introduce a new, very clinical set design for Heaven in this season for the sole purpose of having it go along with the lobotomies that they repeatedly have Cas go through for the said brainwashing, and all of this being done with the intention of having it be Dean’s CONFESSION and Cas’ LOVE for him that breaks the brainwashing and saves both of them, is—to be quite frankly—crazy, crazy work. Certainly a choice A Series of Fascinating Choices if you will.

[cinderella-ish]

And it’s so layered!! I keep seeing details in new ways on every rewatch/reread!

Not to derail the Aziracrow train I've been on but this is Fandom-Madness69 so

Let's talk about Fruits Basket.

Let's talk about this wonderfully painful anime. Let's talk about everything about it. The way the tone is almost always shifting but never at a moment where you don't want or need it to. From serious discussions about people's lives, behaviors, bad habits, toxic traits, the whole Zodiac Curse, etc. To joking. Laughing. Bent over with tears in your eyes and your lungs burning to draw another breath but you can't because let's face it what Momiji just did was too cute and just stupid enough that you won't stop laughing anytime soon.

In fact you're going to end up going to that mode where you're silently gasping for air and clapping like a dumb seal. Anyone who has seen this anime knows I'm not exaggerating. And then it will shift again and shatter your hopes, your dreams, everything you thought was going to happen. It will rip your heart out, tear it to shreds, and stomp on it. And then it will come along five minutes later and sew your heart back together, heal those bruises and then hand you back your heart. Like

"Here see all better. It's worth it right?"

And you'll be tempted to say no. Because after all that's abuse right? But the hope will take over and your inner Tohru will win out. And you'll take your damaged heart back with a promise that will be broken. And just when you thought you'd had enough something finally snaps.

Something finally gives and changes for the better. And you fully embrace your inner Tohru as you watch these characters struggle with something ancient weighing them down in a modern world. Tying them to promises they didn't make and that no one could remember. I could go on for days about this anime.

I've made grown men sob their eyes out over this anime.

This is a good starter anime because you get a feel for a lot of the incredibly popular tropes in anime, all the obligatory arcs, the silly moments. But you also get gut punching, heart wrenching, literal back stabbing pain. And it's beautiful. It's sad. And it's so fucking worth watching again and again.