#because i am having some interesting ideas about it

[thefloatingstone]

Hi hi! I know you reblogged this a while ago but I wanted to chime in!

Bri is actually not an AI. He is ALSO a cyborg. His internal organs are still mostly human and he needs a combination of tech and bio engineered parts to function. He also has a heart that still pumps blood and other fluids through his body. (my point is if you shoot him he will bleed)

He's considered 'Fully human' within the story, despite being a cyborg. (they sadly never go into depth regarding his existence as a cyborg, although one of the movies does look deeper into this side of his character)

He was given tech replacement after an extreme accident due to an explosion.

So yeah. Not a robot. Not an AI. Technically still a human being. Just with some replacements.

And yes. He loves Deunan very much.

He's really cool character and is actually REALLY well written and I wish the canon material actually bothered to write the story ABOUT him and Deunan instead of only giving us brief flashes of them as characters while wasting hundreds of pages on politics that don't even connect to any kind of plot and only exist because Masamune wanted to explain his idea for a cool setting more than he wanted to write a story that takes place in it.

And even worse, none of the content written by other people about this world and these characters have been very good.

And then Masamune lost interest and wrote Ghost in the Shell instead and just gave up on this manga. And these days is happier drawing hentai which good for him but I am DYYING. SOMEBODY RESCUE THESE CHARACTERS!

Appleseed PDA montage to save you from reading endless pages of unimportant politics that don't amount to anything

also because I have nothing better to do, I'm bored, I'm moody, my gaming laptop is still broken so no BG3, and it's too late at night to start drawing after doing animation clean-up all day.

[juniperskye]

Three’s Company

This is just a lil blurb about Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan and you being in love! Based on the following Request: @satans-bitch Hi! Idk if you would be comfortable writing it, but I love the idea of Aaron hotchner x reader x Derek Morgan just all being so in love with each other. Thank u Xx – I took some creative liberties…I hope you like it!

Hotch x BAU! Fem Reader x Morgan

Word count: 883

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, Fem reader, pet names, poly-relationship (I’m not the most familiar with this lifestyle) canon typical violence, mantion of babies and pregnancy, Let me know if I missed any.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

So, neither Derek nor Aaron ever and I mean EVER thought they’d be in a polyamorous relationship. But let me tell you, when you arrived at the BAU, they both knew they had to have you. Aaron had gone to Dave time and time again seeking advice and Derek did the same with Penelope.

They’d both complain that there was no way you were interested, because clearly you like the other guy. Only, that wasn’t quite the issue.

You didn’t just like Aaron or Derek, you liked them both. They were so similar and yet so different and there was no way you could ever choose just one of them.

After many instances of the men fighting for your attention and affection, you pulled them both aside to have a serious conversation.

“I think I should leave the BAU.” You stated.

“What? No!” Derek blurted.

“Why would you think that?” Aaron inquired. “If our behavior has made you uncomfortable, I am so sorry. It was never my intention, and I would hate to see such a talented agent leave because of my idiocy.”

“It’s not your guy’s behavior that’s making me feel this way. It’s my feelings for you.” You said, gesturing to both men.

“Feelings for who?” Derek questioned.

“Both of you.” You blushed.

That evening you’d explained to the men that you had feelings for both of them and had the situation been different you’d have suggested a poly relationship, but you knew that it was too much to ask of two alpha males who’d never been in one before.

What you hadn’t expected to happen was for them to give you a quizzical look and then ask you to give them some time to think about it.

--

It had been nearly a year since then and the three of you had developed something truly beautiful. Aaron had been so stoic at work but at home he was soft, and he always did everything in his power to ensure you and Derek were both cared for.

And well Derek, he was clingy at home. Always wanting his hands on you and he’d come to really enjoy having physical contact with Aaron.

Like when you’d watch a movie, Aaron would have his arm slung over the back of the couch while you cuddled up into his side, and Derek would be sitting as close to you as possible, practically sitting you in his lap. This position would allow for Aaron’s hand to rest around Derek as well and that warmth became a comfort for him.

There had been another shift shortly after that, pet names…they’d been slipping out more frequently. And not just them men using them with you either.

“Sweetheart can you pass me my phone?” Aaron had asked, looking directly at Derek.

“Sure thing sugar.” Derek had replied.

You had been shocked initially, but it ultimately had warmed your heart to see them falling into this relationship more and more. Their comfort in this had been your main priority, you hadn’t cared about anything else.

--

Work had been the toughest part of this newfound dynamic. When any of you got hurt on a case, the other two couldn’t exactly hold it together. And with the team being out of the loop of your lifestyle, well they definitely suspected something.

The most recent had been Aaron, he had been shot while taking down an unsub. Thankfully it had been a flesh wound, but when you heard the shot and saw him go down, you couldn’t help the wail that tore through you. The paramedics had requested you step away, and Derek pulled you into his embrace to get you to comply.

“Baby he’s gonna be okay!” Derek said while holding you close.

“He was shot D! What if he’s not?” You cried.

“I know he’s gonna be okay baby. He has to be.” Derek mumbled the last part.

You looked up to see the tears falling from his misty eyes, and you held him tighter. The team sat by and watched the situation play out, fully convinced now that something was transpiring between the three of you. More than they had initially assumed.

--

The newest development had been the discussion of children. The guys had baby fever, they had seen you interacting with your sister’s newborn and you swear you saw them both drooling over the sight of you.

So…have you ever thought about having kids princess?” Derek posed.

Currently you were lying on the couch, your head in Derek’s lap and him pressed against Aaron. The movie playing, long forgotten as Derek combed his fingers through your hair and Aaron traced shapes on Derek’s bicep.

“Um, yes…I have thought about it. Why do you ask?” You sat up.

“Well, honey, we had a conversation about it the other day.” Aaron clarified.

“You two…had a conversation about me having a baby?” You questioned.

“About us…having a baby.” Derek said, gesturing to the three of you.

Your jaw dropped in shock. What had started as inappropriate flirting in the workplace had developed into a serious relationship between the three of you. One fueled by love, safety, and trust.

“I would love to have a baby with you guys.” You smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

[burningcheese-merchant]

When Burning Spice was introduced a lot of people made comparison with Capsaicin, and even thought they were related. You have any thoughts on that?

I do, and you're all probably going to be very disappointed lol

Not only do I NOT vibe with the idea that they're related, I'm actually really annoyed that it's as popular as it is lol. It doesn't even make sense. Burning Spice was in prison for thousands of years; when, where and how did he have a kid? At what point in time did this occur? Capsaicin is a young man. A regular mortal, outside of his "Spice Overlord" thing. I ask you all again: when? Where? How? WHY? Has anyone ever actually thought this through?

"ThEy LoOk SiMiLaR" okay, and? So fucking what? Neither of them own the concept of "long hair" or "muscles" or "sharp teeth". Pitaya has those too, and he has an arguably more substantial connection to Capsaicin because they're actually from the same fucking area. Happenstance. Lots of characters in this game have similar attributes, that doesn't necessarily mean anything

"ThEy'Re BoTh SpIcY" Refer to point A. Do you all think all the nut-based cookies are related, too? That's the logic you might as well be operating on. Correlation is not causation

"Blah blah both jail" you know how many characters in this whack-ass phone game count as felons, bro? How many of them SHOULD count as felons lol? The Cookie Run universe might as well be one giant Alcatraz with all the shit these little affronts to God get up to every day, I ain't making them all each other's relatives because of it

They're the wrong ages for them to be family. Burning Spice was serving a life sentence since long before Capsaicin was even thought of, he literally got out after the guy was already a grown ass man. They're not even from the same fucking CONTINENT! Capsaicin has probably never even HEARD of Beast-Yeast! Even that little comic the CRK Twitter account posted makes fun of all this shit!!! The Wild Spices mistake Cap for Spice from behind, and then get confused when he turns around because THEY VERY CLEARLY DO NOT KNOW WHO HE IS AND HAVE NEVER SEEN HIM BEFORE! Wouldn't an army know if their general had a son, even if it was only mentioned in passing? Wouldn't THIS army have a vested interest in having their general's son around if he existed, and stop at nothing to bring him home should he vanish, to gain favor with Spice and because of how powerful Capsaicin is and how useful he could be to them?

I wouldn't be so bent out of shape about all this if it wasn't LITERALLY FUCKING EVERYWHERE!!! I cannot enjoy any content of Burning Spice OR Capsaicin without having to endure a fucking barrage of "hurr durr father and son" posts!!! I just want to ogle my hot, sexy, deliciously evil spice man BY HIM-FUCKING-SELF in peace, I never asked to have to hear the exact fucking same "hi son I came back with the milk" joke over and over and over again

I know I sound like a massive dick right now and I'm truly sorry. You are more than welcome to think of these two as related in some way if you wish. I am not your mother, nor your leader, nor your god, I'm just some cringe loser on the internet. Enjoy this game and its characters in whatever way you choose. I even actually like a good bit of the father/son art, a lot of it is cute and funny. I'm able and willing to say that with complete sincerity.

I just wish I didn't have to feel like it's being forced on me. That is one of the biggest issues I have with this fandom: how oppressive it often feels. You MUST ship this particular pairing, you MUST headcanon these characters as family, you MUST take this one-off joke that was clearly just a goddamn joke and preach it 24/7/365 like it's the gospel truth that Devsis themselves wrote on stone tablets and delivered from the top of Mount Sinai. And then when someone doesn't want to do that, everyone else descends upon them like a plague of fucking locusts. I actually saw a Dad Spice + Son Cap post on here with the person who made it saying something like "ok since everyone agrees that these two are family [...]" and I just got so fucking irritated. No, actually, not everyone agrees. Not everyone agrees on a lot of the fanon that's shoved down the entire community's throats on a regular basis. PLEASE stop acting like they do. I still remember when people would get flat-out harassed for not acting like Herb is Sea Fairy's son (old ass drama lol).

Say what you will about me, I'm just one person and you can block me or whatever dumb tags I use for my dumb shit. There is NOWHERE I can go to avoid this. Twitter? Plagued. Tumblr? Plagued. Even fucking reddit is on this nonsense (only in my personal opinion). But that's what I get for acknowledging Reddit in any capacity lol

I shall once again sincerely apologize for my harsh tone here, I am not attacking you personally or anyone who headcanons these two as relatives. I am just generally, profoundly frustrated and I need to get it out. I appreciate you taking the time to ask me an honest question, I hope you can forgive me for my painfully honest answer

[certifiedsexed]

i think i'm aspec because even though i find women attractive and want to date them, their bodies don't turn me on. i reckon when most people are turned on they feel an urge to do things with the person or sort themselves out? and while sure i would like a pretty girlfriend; i wanna kiss and cuddle more so because we're in love and stuff.

however, i have just one fetish. i won't be sharing what it is but whenever i'm bored or understimulated i'll get off to a video of it. i guess this proves that i can find something sexually attractive? but when it comes to anything besides that kink i'm just not interested.

it's like, i assume all allosexual people have a "sex kink" (that sounds dumb but just listen) where they enjoy hot bodies and you know, having sex and things associated with sex. and i don't have a sex kink, just the other one. but since i don't like the idea of being sexual with another person i'll probably just engage in this fetish by myself.

i guess my question is: am i still asexual? i do know that it's a spectrum and some people identify as ace even if they have a little sexual attraction, but i feel like my circumstance is kind of weird because i've never heard of anyone else who has a kink but isn't horny. is it even normal, or is it a sign of some weird sexual suppression or something?

sorry to ramble so much. it's just confusing.

Well, asexuality is more about your varied/lack of sexual attraction to OTHER people. So having a fetish, getting off to it or even getting off in general doesn't negate being asexual. Having a kink doesn't even have to have anything to do with sexual attraction to others.

Yes, you're absolutely still asexual. There are actually a lot of asexual people in kink scenes, it just depends what circles you're in. It's not really anymore weird than having kinks is in general-Or, as is commonly said in kink spaces: if that's weird, it's all weird.

It's not specifically a sign of sexual suppression. It's just the way your sexuality manifests. It's find to be asexual and have kinks, it doesn't have to "mean" anything specifically.

That's not to say you can't be sexually suppressed and need to work through that. It's just that being asexual and having kinks isn't, in of itself, a sign of sexual suppression.

Not sure if this helps but hope so! Let me know if you have any other questions. <3

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

on the cusp of my inner child walking into the sunset to give my inner teenager a quick hive five and wave her into the matrix I will say that this used to be the song that I had looping in my head all the time today at the bunny store the owner was frustrated and I was hyperfocused on that energy whenever she was in the room like I expected her to tell me to get out or accuse me of something and then I heard the hum of my heart who wanted to give her something to be frustrated about and let me tell you I really do understand now why someone says proudly when their caretakers were mostly dysfunctional and lost "I raised myself" I raised my daughter and myself like I wished I had been raised like she and my soul were twins in a way so alike but also completely separate people now I recognize in my son where I may have misunderstood him especially with my autism and ADHD I did the best with what I knew but learning about how I process information and how I used to shut him down for things he couldn't help that I am now experiencing I'm only glad that I have time to be better I have time to bridge the distance that I know I feel and have created by not understanding and now that I understand I can do so much better my son and I are so alike and he has my eyes there's this gentle spirit to him he's so calm and quiet most of the time and even I project weird things that happen in my head onto him and he looks at me with such confusion when I do and I apologize profusely because I hate when that happens to me and I hate that I accidently do it to him a look that says "what the fuck? do you even know me?!" there's this furious spirit that shows up when anyone pushes him too far and buddy that spirit is going to win the last thing he wants is to be held when he's overstimulated and when he says he needs space alone he means it and when he's calmed himself he'll show up again and we'll talk when I fucked up and apologize I know he truly forgives me and I'm not used to being forgiven sometimes it felt like I was never forgiven but he trusts me and I know he knows I'm doing the best that I can but I'll still prove it to him that he's worth understanding and knowing not just being guessed at anyways, he's the better version of me he hasn't had to survive like me but he has had to endure the chronic misunderstanding and dissmissal of a way of experiencing and communicating to this world in a sensitive and interesting way he's teaching me what middle schoolers actually worry about when they aren't playing mortal hide and seek with dysfunctional family and it's help me understand myself a lot and where I've gone wrong sometimes but I'll fix it I'll fix it now it's time for me to meet who I was in high school and she doesn't want peace she wants justice and I need to learn how to blend all this together and keep some compromises and actually say what's on my heart even if someone tells me it's not real because I don't think I'm taking hostages anymore you're on the ship or you're walking the plank hope you can swim but here's a quick life preserver while you're in the water waiting for someone to float by her first idea would have been to burn the entire ship so like I said compromise I'm so tired lmao

can’t emphasize enough how when you grew up in a toxic environment, being in the room with someone who’s angry or frustrated - even if it has nothing to do with you - is absolutely terrifying cuz you’ve been 1000% conditioned to assume frustration = all hell is going to break lose and be aimed directly at you

[utilitycaster]

anyway this is obviously a wild shift in the topic of conversation, but I was talking about it in the group chat last night as a distraction and would like to continue the distraction if I am being honest, so, with the caveat that this is based off of Fandom Osmosis Observations and a few reads of reviews and I have at this time played neither of these games, some thoughts about BG3 vs. Veilguard and what I've seen. many thanks to @captainofthetidesbreath for actually knowing things about video games and answering my many questions.

also just putting this up front with all said caveats: if you disagree that is great, I am very open that this is an outside observation and I could be very wrong but I am going to block people who get hostile without warning, and make this nonrebloggable if too many people get hostile. You are always permitted to disagree but like, I don't really care about your opinion if you're not someone with whom I have a pre-existing rapport unless idk you're like, actually a BG3 or Veilguard official story writer who happens to be on Tumblr. If you're a player? You have all of your own biases and they are not mine. Save it for someone who wants to get in a fight about this; I am not that person.

Essentially, what I've seen in terms of criticism from Veilguard that isn't just rampant transphobia comes down to the following:

why am I not playing my previous character from Inquisition again

why am I limited to a fairly consistent through line for the story

But first, I'm going to talk about BG3. What's funny is I seem like a much more obvious candidate for playing BG3, as a longtime D&D player who has come around on Forgotten Realms as a setting. However, while I looked at it for a while, I eventually lost interest for a couple of reasons. One is that apparently all the characters are WAY too eager to romance you which is like, a fun fantasy for 10 minutes but would probably annoy me in the long run. Another is that everyone who watched early reviews and kept abreast with the game told me that there was a clear favorite companion (Astarion) and that many of the characters had most of their interesting flaws sanded down (eg: Wyll was apparently much cockier originally; Shadowheart even more petulant; and as these are perhaps the two characters I was most intrigued by, reducing them to something blander destroyed much of the appeal). But perhaps the most interesting one is that as a boring goodie two shoes sort of person, my thought back when I was like "yeah, perhaps I will play this" was "oh, I do not want to have a murderous urge within me."

It became very apparent, through watching people play through and post on my dash, that if you didn't specifically play as the Dark Urge, and didn't specifically resist that urge, the story didn't really cohere. I have to admit, I know the premise of BG3 very well (tadpoles), and I know a lot of shipping trends (put a pin in that), and I know some of the more obvious points within it (Astarion is a vampire, Gale and Karlach both have bombs in their chests somehow, Shadowheart bleaches her hair) but I don't really have a great sense of the ending, and I did not avoid spoilers.

It feels like BG3 is designed for people who have one of those massive spreadsheets of D&D characters they haven't had a chance to play that are meticulously kept and thoroughly realized...and don't really leave room for modifying to fit the campaign you will actually be playing in. It feels like an OC sandbox simulator unless you do actually pick the choice the writers actually wrote for (Durge), and while it's not technically playersexual...it kinda is. I mean, I am a big fan of the trend in video games towards making it possible to romance anyone because it conjures up the idea of a world of high-powered bisexuals running around, which is very enjoyable for me, but the criticism of the Mary Sue archetype originally was never "how dare you fantasize about being cool." It was "wow, the characterizations are all warped beyond recognition solely so that everyone is in love with this character, and that makes for a dull and unsatisfying story." If you're everyone's type, and it's for romance and not just sheer lust, then either everyone around you is boring and wants the same thing, or you are sort of bland and inoffensive, or else the story is bashing characters together without a good basis for a compelling romance. This is also compounded by the fact that the companions can't get together with each other if you're playing your own character and not an Origins character.

None of this is to say it's bad to like BG3 and again, I didn't play it; but it is why I ultimately said "you know, given the effort involved to play it for me, a person without a gaming system, it's not worth it."

Veilguard has specifically intrigued me for going against a lot of this. You have a lot of choices in your character build, but they're all fairly thematically consistent: you did something within your faction that was well-intentioned but upset higher-ups and so you need to step away for a while. This establishes a personality for you! We know why you're part of a faction but also something of a free agent at the moment. We know why you're here and why you might be a good candidate for the current mission.

I'm not going to go into detail for the choices because while I'm not avoiding spoilers I don't want to spoil a relatively new game for others, but a lot of choices are fairly parallel, not in an "illusion of choice" way - they have consequences - but in terms of hitting similar themes. You can only save one city and both are places you have seen and places your companions have connections to; while the exact details may differ you are telling a consistent story.

I also think the fact that the companions can romance each other in your absence is important too! They exist even when you're not there. They are not just here to woo you, and indeed, they might be a better match for each other. I've been informed this is true in Inquisition as well, and I think it's a much more rich world if you, as the player, as the person who can ultimately decide the fates of your companions, aren't the center of their personal life. I also think it prevents the ability to sand down companions to be more agreeable to you as a player if you have to make an NPC/NPC romance compelling (and I will freely admit that, in a move that is not at all like me, I was pretty well sold by a potential in-game NPC/NPC romance, which is usually not the thing that gets me into works of fiction).

I'm not the right person to speak to the Inquisitor not being a significant character because I did not play DA:I, and I get that 'well, this is a new game with a new protagonist, as there has been for every Dragon Age game' is still not necessarily an adequate explanation. Nor is "hey, maybe it's good to attract new players" even though as someone who is highly attracted as a new player that is my opinion. However, I want to go back to the point about Resist Durge being the strongest option in BG3 in terms of story by a long shot. When I was trying to learn more, I said "ok, so just like how you're Tav in BG3 and Rook in Veilguard, you're Lavellan in Inquisition, right?" and was told that you are not - that's just the elvish Inquisitor option. Obviously this is anecdotal, but the fact that one option was far and away the most popular and thematically resonant is an indication that perhaps bringing forth the Inquisitor is carrying over some of the limitations of that game, whatever they may be. The true argument is "they are trying to tell a specific story here, and it is about a different POV than the one you previously had."

And that's really my point. I know I'm not an expert here - in fact I'm usually quite hesitant to write meta about things in which I'm not highly steeped, and very critical of those people who do - but I think an outsider perspective is useful here. The thing that is drawing me to video games is a new way to experience a fictional narrative (the other game I have been meaning to play - and even own on Steam- is Disco Elysium). That's not what everyone wants! But it is what I want. And so I want to be put into a developed, thoughtful narrative, and I don't mind if my choices are restricted in order to support it, and if I am playing a person I did not entirely choose. In tech, there is a saying of "make it easy to make the right choice (and hard to make the wrong one)" and so if you need your protagonist to hit certain beats, you should make that the required protagonist.

I think a story is stronger if your choices matter but if there is something of a foregone conclusion because it gives the writers thematic throughlines. This might sound a little silly given that this blog is largely dedicated to Actual Play but the thing is, most actual play does have, if not a foregone conclusion, at least a strongly intended conclusion of "work towards uncovering this mystery and achieving this goal", though the success of said goal is not guaranteed. I would argue that when a campaign lacks that, it tends to suffer in all aspects. RPG video games almost always have a foregone conclusion, but that's its own liability. In actual play, lacking a forgone conclusion means you spin off in any direction and it's anyone's guess if it's coherent. In an RPG, having this conclusion but not supporting it through the rest of the game will make it feel contrived. I feel a lot of Veilguard criticism is focusing on small contrivances early on that really mostly matter to a highly specific subset of potential players that prevent much larger and less forgiveable contrivances later on.

Anyway. Again, I am an outsider here, and I'm not here to say that it's bad to have a more open-world, sandboxy game with a self-insert-y OC type; but I have to be honest, I'd rather explore that in a true sandbox of fanfiction or original fiction, which is significantly cheaper and in which I can actually tell the entire story I want to tell. I don't want to be given more choices if a lot of them will be profoundly unsatisfying as a narrative. I don't want to cut through the world like a hot knife through butter. I want to be affected by it, and that's very hard to do with a character whose only trait is "self-insert whom everyone wants to fuck" or "guy that already carries the baggage of years of personal headcanons and highly variable choices that are hard to account for for every single person who ever played the previous game."

[aisiedaisie]

Heyo!

I noticed you take asks, but after lurking for a bit, I saw you haven’t done any yet. No worries if you’re not ready! But do you write _ x reader? Because I was thinking it’d be a super cute idea if the reader has a crush on their TA, who happens to be one of the Marauders, in the most boring class ever.

Oh, and if you haven’t had any designated anons yet, can I be ☁️?

Hello hello~ !

I do take asks!!! This is actually the first ask I’ve received and I am so happy. Thank you for sending it in and of course you can be my ☁️ anon! As for _ x reader fics… I’ve actually never written a reader fic before but I’ve tried my best! I think it leaned more gender neutral more than female reader, but I hope its okay.

Also, as someone who normally writes in third person, second person is difficult!!!

TA! Sirius Black x GN! Reader WC: 1.1k

You can’t remember why you signed up for this class. Maybe you thought it would be easy? Or even interesting…

But no.

The only thing remotely worth your time is the observation lab every Friday. The rest? Well, that’s just a blur of uncomfortable lectures, ticking clocks, and the distant hum of other students’ barely contained frustration.

No one would expect you to have perfect attendance. Most of the class doesn't even bother showing up, since attendance isn’t mandatory. They only show for tests, and even then, some skip those. You can’t help but wonder if they dropped the class, or if they just don’t care anymore.

Unfortunately— or, depending on your perspective, fortunately— something other than the lecture has caught your attention. You can’t help but quietly admire the TA at the front of the room, his presence oddly magnetic amidst the dull hum of the class.

Sirius Black is as punctual as you—if not more. He’s always there before anyone else, scanning IDs with a detached efficiency as students shuffle past. Then he settles into the front row, laptop open, his fingers dancing over the keys. He posts notes on Canvas for the absentees, though you suspect it’s more out of routine than necessity, since the lectures are always recorded and uploaded that evening.

He doesn’t seem like the type who’d voluntarily spend his free time sitting through intro-level astronomy lectures. With his shoulder-length, wavy dark hair—often loosely pulled into a half-bun—and his signature worn black leather jacket, he looks more like someone who should be out of a 50s film than a lecture hall. His casual blue jeans and plain white T-shirt complete the look, giving him a James Dean vibe that seems a little too effortless, a little too cool for this room.

You try to refocus, your eyes drifting back to the lecture. Professor Fancourt’s voice drones on in a monotonous lull, and he scribbles another formula on the whiteboard. “With this equation, please find the orbital velocity of Neptune,” he instructs, his back turned as he walks toward the desk by the door where Sirius is absorbed in his typing.

You glance back at the formula, but it might as well be a foreign language.

You’ve never been good at math, and when you signed up for Basic Astronomy, you didn’t think it would be an all-out battle of numbers. You thought you’d be learning about planets, maybe some stars, a little science history. But math? Why did they have to throw that in?

A knot tightens in your stomach as Professor Fancourt starts pacing. You know what’s coming. It’s only a matter of time before he picks someone—randomly, of course—to come up to the whiteboard and answer the question. You have no idea what’s going on with that equation, but you’re pretty sure it’s going to be you.

You don’t want to be called on. Not today.

With a resigned sigh, you gather your things, leaving your notebook open on the desk. A quick break—just enough to clear your head.

You make your way to the TA’s desk. Sirius looks up as you approach, his brow quirking in mild surprise.

“Look at that—someone’s actually moving from their desk,” he teases, and you manage a tired, half-hearted smile, nodding in acknowledgment.

“Just need a break,” you mutter, pulling your ID from your pocket and handing it to him.

He scans it without a word, his fingers drumming absentmindedly on the scanner. “If you’re grabbing something, make it quick,” he says, his voice laced with a playful chuckle. “And don’t forget—bring me something back, yeah?” He adds a wink for good measure, making the suggestion feel almost like a dare.

You step out into the hallway, the noise of the lecture hall fading behind you. For a moment, the weight of the class lifts from your shoulders, and you allow yourself to relax. You focus on the vending machine in front of you, half-stalling, half-actually needing something to take your mind off the dull lecture and the growing pressure of the equation you still can’t wrap your head around.

You scan the rows of snacks—chips, candy bars, granola. You grab the chocolate bar you always go for when you need something quick. You buy it, but as you clutch the candy and step away from the machine, you remember Sirius’ words, his playful tone still echoing in your mind. “And don’t forget—bring me something back, yeah?”

You pause, eyeing your snack. An impulse hits you, and you decide to grab a pack of sour gummies from the row below. It’s different from what you’d normally get, but you figure it’s a safe bet. Plus, you’d hate to go back empty-handed after he asked, even if he was joking.

With both snacks in hand, you head back into the lecture hall. The familiar hum of the room greets you, but this time it feels different. The pressure in your chest has lifted, replaced with an unexpected calm. You’re grateful to find the professor already discussing the next topic when you return.

You make your way to your seat, but before you sit down, you glance toward the front of the room. Sirius is still hunched over his laptop, typing with the same detached concentration as always. His attention is on the screen, but when he hears you approach, he looks up just in time to catch your eye.

You raise the pack of sour gummies slightly, as if to confirm you heard him. “Brought you something.”

His eyebrow quirks in surprise, but the smirk that follows is unmistakable. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms with a quiet chuckle. “Well, I’ll be damned. You actually came through.” His gaze flickers between the gummies and your face, and you can’t help but feel a little self-conscious under his attention.

“They’re for you,” you say, offering him the pack. “Hope you like them.”

Sirius grins, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment as he takes the gummies. “Thanks. This’ll make the rest of this lecture bearable,” he says with a wink. “Thanks, love.”

You smile, a little shy, your cheeks flushing at the nickname. You return to your seat as he rips open the pack, popping a gummy in his mouth. The subtle exchange is enough to keep your mind from wandering back to the looming equation on the board.

The rest of the class goes by in a blur.

Professor Fancourt drones on as usual, but you don’t mind so much now. For once, you actually feel... lighter. Sirius hasn’t left his post at the front of the room, but every so often, you catch him glancing back at you with a quiet grin, as if he knows exactly how much of an effect he’s having on you. It turns your cheeks even darker, and your eyes quickly dart away when you make eye contact.

By the time the class ends, you’re no longer dreading the idea of coming back next week. In fact, you might even look forward to it a little, and not just because of the observation lab on Friday.

[wings-of-ink]

I'm trying to make my own IF story, if it's ok to ask how'd you come up with the ideas? Or how'd you build off it to make a whole (beautiful and amazing) story?

I've had a few ideas but get caught up in trying to make everything in one section fit, and then I feel like I'm getting no where

if you have any tips Id love to hear (your game has become one of my favorites in the 24 hours it took to play ♥️)

Hello Nony! I am so glad you enjoy GC, and am happy to answer that question as best I can. I'm free-styling here, so this will be a bit long.

For me, most ideas just sort of spring up, but they aren't full ideas when they do. GC started from a thought about a cursed MC. That was it. I just dwelt on it and sort of answered questions about it - where did the curse come from, etc... It grew a lot from there as I tried to answer questions about it. The nature of those details gave me my fantasy setting, which I grew as well. I just started small and found a place for each layer that I needed to add to the structure. This can take quite a while depending on what you're cooking up. GC had months and months of building and background before I ever started writing the actual story.

In this poll, the IF idea I had for "Shivers" was literally inspired by my brother-in-law. He actually has that nervous tick, and he jokes about it, and we tease him (good-naturedly). He says that his future gravesite must be under a parking lot or a sidewalk because people keep walking on it, lol. It just made my imagination spin.

The "gritty drama" idea from this same poll stemmed from one of my OCs. I just made a setting for her and then thought of the type of world she lives in and what I could do with it.

Other ideas I have had came from thinking of a cool "scene" while listening to music. Music is a great medium for me to help me think about my characters especially. Just listen to your favorite tunes and let your brain go wild.

It just sort of also depends on how you think. There's nothing that says an idea just needs to come to you, you can set out to find one.

I would recommend focusing on themes and genres that you enjoy reading as well. I am a long-time fan of fantasy, I have written several fantasy stories in the past, and it just feels comfortable for me. You are more inclined to think of story ideas in the niches that you love the most.

One thing I would highly recommend for IF's especially is that you make sure the MC is the center/focus of your story. Some IFs can feel like the MC is a secondary character, and the story is really about the ROs. They can still be great stories, but your reader is often looking for a personal experience in addition to the story and romances.

And just an aside that I think is important, since in the IF communities you see themes repeated, especially popular ones. Do not worry about if your story is completely unique. As long as you do not pluck ideas and words directly from others, it's okay. In the literary and entertainment world, truly unique ideas are very rare if not non-existent, but your version of it has not been told before. You also don't need an earth-shattering idea to make it interesting.

I hope this helps you a bit. If you have more questions or comments about any of this, feel free to send in another ask. If you tell me more about your personal process and experience, maybe I can think of other things that would help if you like. ^_^

[lafaiette]

Your Lavellan breaks through the fog of Solas’s expectations and suppositions of behavior, limits, and nature that he has held and observed as a millennia-old being. Lavellan is a mortal, a fragile, flawed mortal with death looming and immense social and political and military power and yet she does not allow it to corrupt her. She holds steadfast to duty, to what is right, what is ethical. She is open minded in defiance to everything the world has taught her of spirits being scary and unknown.

@yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy THIS, EXACTLY. This is who Lavellan was for Solas in Inquisition. Not all Lavellans are the same, of course - some are ruder, harsher, more cynical than others, but all of them must have an open mind about spirits, want to save people, and not be tyrants to start a romance with Solas. I don't remember if an Inquisitor can ever say they enjoy having been thrust into this whole mess, like "Hey, interrupting Corypheus' ritual was worth it, look how powerful I am now! >:D "

I believe most Lavellan would feel very disconcerted at the sudden position they are in, even if they were not happy in their clan. They can grow to love the Inquisition and their new leadership role, but it's not something they asked for, that they fought for - it happened because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And this is the first difference with Mythal. Morrigan says that Mythal loved ruling, that she asked Elgar'nan to share power, but wanted to do so in a kind way, like a mother guiding her people. However, she was also prickly, because she hated being wrong, being corrected, wanted to be respected as a god, but not in a servile way, wanted to right wrongs, but only if they were just and interested her according to her ideas. Like all spirits, Morrigan says, her emotions were incredibly strong and volatile.

How, then, can Lavellan remind Solas of her? To continue her romance with him, Lavellan must actually face and accept the idea that the Dalish remember many things wrong. One of the first things she can say to him in Haven is "I am sorry - if the Dalish did you a disservice, I will repair that. How can we do better?" - and in being humble, Lavellan makes Solas humble. He falters, accepts her apology and apologies in return, and admits he was wrong, because the Dalish could never recover what is lost. By showing him humility, Lavellan allows him - a spirit made flesh - to reflect that humbleness and embody it. Mythal never did this, she actually turned his very nature, his wisdom, into pride.

When Solas tells Lavellan about the vallaslin, there are several possible reactions. She can be sad and ashamed ("We try to preserve our culture, and this is what we keep?"), angry because she is hurt, react in shock - but she always accepts the truth. She doesn't get angry at Solas because he corrected her ("They honor the elven gods." "No. They are slave markings."), which is what Mythal would have done; she can get angry because of shame, yes, but at the end she knows what he's saying it's true and she accepts the truth, the wisdom, he gives her. And she can choose what to do with it: renounce the vallaslin's terrible history or embrace the new meaning the Dalish gave them.

Lavellan can make decisions that are wrong, according to Solas, like not exile the Wardens or not use Gaspard as a puppet for Briala and her elves. But they talk about it, they can have a par-on-par discussion about it, something it's clear he never could do with Mythal. In all the regret cutscenes we see, he always accepts to do what she asks of him, never once arguing with her. Yes, he starts his rebellion also against her, because she betrayed him and his ideals of freedom, but it's clear he still feels reverence for her and even asks to meet her in secret to warn her about the Blight they created.

Mythal liked ruling and didn't give up power, even when the Evanuris started going too far. Lavellan gives up her power, in one way or another: she can either completely disband the Inquisition or give it to the Chantry. She doesn't keep the power for herself or start a coup to undermine Ferelden and Orlais' demands. She has lost her arm, discovered world-shattering information, and is surrounded by bloodhounds: so she gives up her position and influence, something not even Mythal, in all her "wisdom and kindness", ever did. Something no ruler, Solas once warned her, would logically do. But she does!

Never, not even once, I considered Lavellan to be a foil to Mythal while playing Inquisition. In that game, Mythal is actually described as a foil to Andraste, to Flemeth, to all the women of Thedas betrayed and cast aside. Flemeth announces there will be a reckoning, and Mythal allows Solas to take her power from her without question, because she wants to be avenged. She has been crawling through the ages for this very purpose.

But in Veilguard, the last regret mural shows her suddenly changing her mind and questioning him, with Solas making just the vaguest comment about the elves deserving to get their immortality back, the faintest of threads tying it back to Trespasser. Why then allow him to take her power, if that's not what she wanted to do anymore?

And how can the fragment of Mythal from the Crossroads, that very fragment Morrigan warns being still tied to vengeance and rage, be the one who manages to change his mind? Why should that part of Mythal, still hungry for retribution, tell him to stop and free him from his service?

So basically one of Solas' murals

is the Crestwood scene, but with reversed roles. Solas is the rejected one, Mythal is the one who walks away, leaving him alone in what I presume was a glade at night, judging from the environmental sounds and hushed tones we can hear.

And, to be honest, I don't know how I feel about it - it feels like it cheapens the Crestwood scene, repeating an abusive pattern, stripping away the romance and softness of that scene. It's, once again, something Solas already went through with Mythal, not something he shares with Lavellan only. It's Weekes saying yet again that Solas saw Mythal in Lavellan, and that's why he fell in love with her. Not because she was Lavellan, but because she reminded him of Mythal and gave him hope that all elves could return to that "level" of wisdom.

What we learn in this game also ruins the kiss scene on the balcony, where Solas say "You have showed wisdom I have not seen since... since my deepest journeys into the ancient memories of the Fade."

Most of us believed he meant "Wisdom I have not seen since my ancient days in Elvhenan", but it's basically confirmed at this point that he meant "Wisdom I have not seen since Mythal".

A month ago, someone here mentioned how Weekes had said there was a specific reason why Solas had falled for Lavellan. I never found the interview where they said so, but I saw many believed it had something to do with reincarnation, lost soulmates finding each other again etc., but once again, it's clear what Weekes meant, and it's bad, cheap writing.

They could have written a god finally learning the error of his ways thanks to his love for a mortal - a love completely different from that of who was basically an abuser, a parent-like figure forcing him to take form and serve -, but instead they went for the easy route: a god still loving another god, feeling love for a mortal who reminds him of her, and changing his mind only because his god finally gives him permission to be free.

The mortal who supposedly "changes everything" serves no purpose - she actually tells him "There is no fate but the love we share" after he's been "freed" from his service, which in this context, in this situation, sounds more like a punishment, another yoke, some sort of "I finally got you, you can't run from me anymore".

I don't know what happened to Weekes' writing - either they were forced to make these decisions due to various constraints, or they completely changed their style/ideas during development, because this is not the Solas, this is not the Solavellan romance, we got in DA:I.

[neshatriumphs]

I think it's interesting how many white women are STILL not saying, "We need to do better as white women," because anybody else, anybody AT ALL who had that kinda percentage of bitches who choose against themselves would be second guessing their whole group and thinking, "Maybe WE need to do something about US," but they got up today baby like, "Look at what has been done to us..."

GIRL LOOK AT WHO ALL DID IT! Lol. NGL, I am actually chuckling. I would be fucked either way, but y'all hoes GOTTA get it together. NOBODY ELSE thinks that we all in the same boat or on the same side. Y'all got too many loved ones that did this to us, y'all, and themselves. And even having some idea of what you stand to lose. Y'all. Will. Not. Challenge. Them.

To me, y'all just as pathetic, girl.

[rosepetalkitty]

ngl hdg kinda amazes me in its ability to cater to my kinks pretty much perfectly while simultaneously triggering several of the worst parts of my trauma.

like how is it that it hits on everything i like on the surface, provides semi-decent worldbuilding to back it all up and enable the creation of stories, and even has consistent backstory and stuff, and yet the entire damn thing instills this looming sense of dread and fear that i can't shake enough to properly enjoy it...

below the break im gonna talk in like. moderate detail. about the parts that scare me. so uh yeah be aware that it'll get heavy that's just how it is.

ok, so the worst thing for me. wellness checks. the idea is cute and kinda hot on the surface. "make sure you're okay and if you're not you're getting domesticated" (which is supposed to be like. a happy thing. "now you get to just chill and be happy and get taken care of forever and in return you give me only your submission"). yeah, fuck it, im into that. hell that's not even an uncommon trope in the realm of cnc/mc writing.

except whenever i read an hdg wellness check story (in the sense of those long-ish tumblr posts that people write—i haven't even really considered reading the longer form content on ao3) there's something viscerally... off... about the tone. it stops feeling like kink and starts feeling like a nightmare when things happen to line up just so, and then it clicks, and reminds me that i knew people, real people, who had "wellness checks" happen in real life, except that instead of it being a kink thing that made them happy and was genuinely for their wellbeing, it was that their parents had hired people to kidnap them and drag them to a psych ward when they just needed a therapist. not all of those people that i knew have come home, as far as im aware. some have been gone for years.

and what about the whole idea of the non-consensual part being okay because "it's for your own good". in hdg-land it is. it's genuinely good for you and everyone seems to be happy with it, other than the occasional "bad guy who hates good things" trope (feralists, in hdg, afaik). but that's exactly what they told me when they cut contact between my boyfriend and i while he was in the hospital. "it's for your own good." guess what, it wasn't. his parents didn't like our relationship. they wanted me to forget him. they either didn't understand or didn't care that i couldn't. it was a year and a half before he came home and i had forgotten nothing.

our loss of communication was the tipping point in a series of events that, had i made one decision differently in the end, would have killed me. thankfully i fucked it up and am here today, no longer in that bad of a place may i add. im choosing not to share any of what happened to me directly right now because i don't want to turn this into a full on trauma dump, but suffice it to say there are recurring themes.

it's so interesting to me because in a lot of ways i have found comfort from those experiences in kink and writing. take flames of averon: mech pilots are neurochemically bonded to their handlers. how different is this from what the affini do to their florets? well, you have to sign up to be a pilot, and there's no authority in the world threatening you if you choose not to. even the coalition military wouldn't dare force you to become a pilot against your will, though they might never stop sending you promotional flyers if they find out you're able to tolerate the cyberware /lh

hell, im into cnc. im really into it. i chose to leave it as an opening between pilots and handlers in foa. the implication exists that if a handler tells their pilot to do something the poor thing will have a hell of a time saying no. that's intentional. it's hot to me, on either end. but the safety comes from other things.

yes, your handler has a lot of influence over you at a level that's hard to imagine, but you chose them and they chose you (most of the time), or at the very least neither of you had any complaints to raise with your supervisor when the paperwork came in for syncing your link chips (holly and astrid from seat of consciousness).

yes it's true, you can't be reassigned now that you're bonded, but that doesn't mean you have zero recourse if your handler is treating you badly. if you need to, you can always file paperwork with your commanding officer to request that something be done.

plus, handlers go through a lot of training, which includes screening to filter out people who would actually harm their pilots. yeah, some handlers are a little sadistic, but when it comes down to it they are on your side. if that wasn't the case they would never have passed pre-basic.

put another way, as a pilot in flames of averon, the closest thing ive ever written to a floret, there are a multitude of points at which you could have said no and didn't, and although that's obviously still noncon in the grand scheme of things, it's "signing away your freedom" cnc compared to the hdg flavor of "you 'consented' via it being the best thing for you whether you like it or not."

even if your handler just told you to "stay" for the first time and you're currently panicking and trying to figure out why your legs won't move, you still have some tiny amount of agency—an escape hatch, so to speak—and you'll just never end up having to use it.

and to me, the loss of that minute level of agency which will never be invoked is the difference between "this is hot as hell and feels perfectly safe" and "this is the abuse that was once leveraged against those i cared about, and to some degree myself, and it's simply been repackaged with a kink sticker slapped on."

none of this is to say i hate hdg, it's fans, those who write about it, or even the parts of it which scare me. i do think the idea is hot. hdg is pretty cool. hell, it was one of my inspirations in writing a lot of the pilot/handler dynamics in flames of averon. but it does scare me. and no matter what i tell myself i can't shake that fear.

it's frustrating, because oftentimes fear can be part of what makes something hot, but the particular flavor of fear which hdg instills in me is one which makes bitter all that it reaches. maybe someday i'll grow out of it. the traumatic memories from which that fear stems were only created in the past couple of years, to be fair. but something tells me a piece of that fear will never be fully dislodged from my mind.

so, all this to say, while i am into hdg, it's a complicated relationship.

(and on a sillier in character note to lighten the mood—please feel free to respond to this with roleplay or whatever you like!)

to any Affini out there who might be reading this, know that im not scared of you. im not scared of what you represent. im only scared by the fact that you mimic that which has left the scars you see on my soul today. im not against being taken in as a floret, and none of this is to say that i hold any level of disdain for you.

i only ask that you be gentle with me. what has been broken once can be broken again. please, do not let it come to that.

[footnoteinhistory]

Time for my big NYC Marathon 2024 recap post!! This post is very long, roughly organized borough by borough, and mostly for my own personal record since I don't feel like putting pen to paper rn

And because so many of you have supported me through all of this (like... all of everything in my life for a long time), I thought maybe some of y'all would be interested. Here is my detailed experience (+ some photos!) <3

Got up Sunday morning at 4:30 am, on the Midtown bus to the start by 6 am. My start wasn't until almost 11 am but I was so anxious about logistics I was happy to get to the start village earlier and sit around bored rather than later and panicked. Fortunately my charity team had a heated tent where I killed three-ish hours by people watching, forcing myself to eat bagels w/ peanut butter and bananas and graham crackers until I couldn't stomach any more, and meeting Meb Keflezighi (!!!). I've read Meb's book twice this year and was too starstruck to say anything to him other than thank you but! What a neat surprise to start the day. A grizzled volunteer held out two water bottles and I took one, then he gave me this look and shook the other bottle at me until I took that one, too. He knew. Trust the volunteers.

I was battling serious nerves leading up to the start line, which I'll skip for brevity's sake bc this is going to be a long post anyway. But by the time we lined up on the Verrazzano Bridge (I was on the lower level), I felt good. Excited. The anthem, the helicopters, the cannon, Frank Sinatra, crossing the start.

As you might know bc I've agonized over it extensively on this blog, my training did not go according to plan this year. I hurt my left leg in April, possibly a fracture, and struggled throughout the summer. I wrestled with the idea of deferring. Finally I decided that I would finish the race, even if I had to walk the entire thing. After a few weeks of speed-walking and rebuilding my strength, I felt okay enough to put a little more pressure on my leg and jog occasionally. I hadn't *run* more than 2-3 consecutive miles since the spring. Literally took a photo of my leg in the starting village with the thought it might be the last time it ever looks normal in case my shin snapped in half in some horrific freak stress injury mid-race. Peak anxiety brain.

So starting slow on the Verrazzano's uphill, I was so anxious I would feel that familiar twinge in my leg. I've felt it for months. Sometimes I'm not sure it isn't a phantom pain now. But I didn't feel it that first mile. Or the second, leaving the Verrazzano and thinking "oh, this could be fun." Or the next mile, entering the first neighborhood. So I ran for the next 10 miles straight.

Brooklyn: The first half of the marathon goes through Brooklyn. It was such a fucking party the whole way. Our wave ran through some quieter streets and neighborhoods before hitting 4th Ave, but it was the perfect warm up. Everyone in the world and their mother tells you not to go out too fast in a marathon but it is IMPOSSIBLE not to—not only was I overjoyed to be running without pain for the first time in weeks, I was zooming around giving as many high-fives to the kids as I could.

I had my name pinned to my shorts and it was 100% the right decision. I've heard from runners who say it was too overstimulating or they had trouble locating friends and family when everyone was screaming their name, but I needed it. I'll get into that later, but even at the start it was such a boost. A woman on a highway overpass shouted "Hi Emily, welcome to Brooklyn!" The first kid I high-fived smacked my hand and said "LET'S GO EMILY"

The entirety of 4th Ave was incredible. I loved running through Brooklyn during the half in 2023 and I loved it this time. So many kids, funny signs, people offering tissues, live music, flags and banners. There were many Israeli and Palestinian flags throughout the course, which wasn't a surprise but still stirred up feelings. There was an older man standing alone with a Palestinian flag and we connected (I don't know how else to describe those fleeting interactions between runners and spectators but I had many; it's not quite a wave, sort of a nod, mostly eye contact, you just both know you're focused on each other for a moment). He yelled "stay strong, run for peace!"

Around Mile 8 at the Barclays Center I felt a cramp in my right calf. I assume this was a consequence of not having run more than eight miles for months before (better to go in undertrained than overtrained, they say, but perfect-amount-trained would've been great). That cramp stuck with me for quite while until every muscle was so cramped they were indistinguishable. But we will cross that unfortunately literal bridge when we come to it.

I managed to stretch it out, walk it off, and power on through until I met my family for the first time just before Mile 11. I liberally applied some Biofreeze to my calf and accidentally dropped my bag of SaltStick chews—a crucial error. Goodbye proper sodium intake for the second half of the race 😰

But I was still blissfully unaware of that mistake, running through the Orthodox Jewish neighborhoods and the rest of Brooklyn. Until I realized it on the Pulaski Bridge headed into...

Queens: If Brooklyn was a party, the two miles I spent in Queens were a brutal reality check. My calf cramp was not getting better, I was mad about losing my saltsticks, passing the halfway point was more intimidating than heartening. My half time was around 2:50, which is MUCH faster than I was expecting, but I knew I couldn't keep it up. I really do not remember Queens. There is a 25-minute gap in my camera roll from the Pulaski to the Queensboro. I recall it being loud, and I was a little overstimulated. I hadn't used headphones yet but put them in to check on the Bills game. We were losing, which did not help my mood.

Queensboro Bridge: I train in a hilly area, so I wasn't too scared when people spoke in hushed whispers about how difficult NYC's course elevation is. But the mood swings I experienced on this fucking bridge. First of all, it's never-ending. It goes up and up and up and up. I thought of Jareth, because they loved Simon & Garfunkel and The 59th Street Bridge Song is on the playlist they made that I listen to when I miss them. My calf was cramping in such a way that stretching could not reach, let alone fix. I started settling with myself—10 miles left, okay, I don't think I will be able to run again, I can walk the whole thing.

But then—we're going downhill again. I'm walking a little faster. We're taking the ramp off the bridge into Manhattan. I'm jogging. We're passing the 16-mile marker—from here on out, every step is the farthest I've ever run in my life. I'm running again. We turn onto roaring 1st Avenue!

Manhattan: 1st Avenue is very long. Everyone warns you about 5th Avenue, when you're close enough to the end you might fool yourself into thinking it's the home stretch—but no one (except Meb) warned me about 1st Ave, which feels uphill! Is it uphill?? It is also a 3.5-mile optical illusion. You look as far ahead as you can and that mass you see cannot be runners, that can't be where you're going, that is so far, the bridge to the Bronx must be closer than that. And yet.

My family also did not see me on 1st Ave as planned, which was kinda disappointing. They just didn't make it to the post we'd picked out ahead of time. I didn't want to be grumpy or ungrateful because they did travel all the way to New York for me, and I'm glad they were enjoying shopping and stuff on the UES, it's their vacation too! but like... you travelled all the way to New York for me. Maybe you could prioritize seeing me 🥺 BUT I was perhaps entering the mouth of the pain cave at this time. I'd been running for over 4 hours, the longest I'd ever done, I didn't have enough sodium.

The spectators were awesome. All along the whole course they were great—if it ever felt like too much, I just walked in the middle of the course and tuned them out fine. There's no way I would've finished without not just their vocal support but material support as well—a bag of pretzels was like manna from heaven. Spray-on Biofreeze. Drinks between the official hydration stations. Alcoholic drinks, too (I did not partake, but boy if there's ever a time to break your sobriety...). Tissues. Bananas and orange slices, cookies, Halloween candy, an angel who had my fave kind of Honey Stinger chews. I'd been eating my own gels every 30 minutes on the dot but I was starting to get sick of them. I took everything that anyone shoved in my hands, Gd bless the people of New York City and their generosity, foresight, and kindness.

The Bronx: Going up the Willis Ave Bridge I didn't know if I would be able to finish. I hadn't run in a couple miles. I looked over to my left and saw runners crossing the Last Damn Bridge and it looked unfathomably far away. I had over 6 miles to go, there was just no way. I wanted to lie down in the middle of the street, find a way to tell my family to pick me up here. But there was a woman on the bridge, the first spectator in the final borough, rocking a well-swaddled baby that couldn't have been older than just a few weeks in her arms, welcoming us to the Bronx. I had to keep going after that. I kept telling myself to just keep walking, step by step, and eventually I would finish.

I hoped crossing the 20 Mile marker would be a boost but it made me feel like crying, if I had been hydrated enough to cry. The Boogie Down Bronx was popping but I could not match their energy. My legs were not going to run another mile. I was literally staring at the road taking one step at a time, my head down.

Then out of nowhere I felt someone next to me. Another runner, a middle-aged guy I'd never seen or spoken to before, came up beside me and patted me on the back and mumbled something I didn't hear before jogging off, something short like "keep going," "you got this," etc it could've been anything we runners say to each other on the course from time to time. It doesn't really matter what he said because just that pat on the back gave me fresh legs. Literally it was like I was on the start line again. I cannot explain it at all, I am tearing up just remembering it right now, the most powerful moment of my race. I immediately picked my head up and started running again and ran the rest of the Bronx. Everything hurt, but I could run through it.

I thought about getting his bib # and looking him up but I decided not to ruin the magic. My literal savior. We bobbed around each other a few more times but I lost him when I stopped on...

The Last Damn Bridge: There's an annual hype squad on the 3rd Avenue Bridge, the final bridge of the marathon that takes you back into Manhattan, and I've connected with some of them on FB. Their project this year was putting the names of runners' late loved ones on posters to give us an extra boost at Mile 21. I'd completely forgotten about it until I started passing the boards, then backtracked to find Phil's name ❤️ The organizer saw my name bib and said "Your name is Emily? My name is Emily, too! We have to take a photo!" so we did :) That interaction gave me a boost out of the Bronx and onto…

5th Avenue: You hear many warnings about the subtle but brutal elevation on 5th Avenue, which takes you from Harlem down almost 50 blocks to Central Park. I did not notice the elevation at all, or at least did not register it as elevation. I was mostly focused on trying to stay conscious. I wasn't ever urgently concerned that I was going to pass out, but if someone had bumped into me I probably wouldn't have gotten up. I was fighting back dizziness—but having fun again? Fun might not be the word but I have pretty positive feelings looking back on 5th Ave. The Bills won—I listened to part of the fourth quarter bc I needed to mentally be anywhere else for a few minutes. My walking speed was about equal to my "running" speed at this point so I mostly settled for walking.

Fun crowds, lots of people saying my name. Saw my family for the second and final time! I only stopped for a moment—my cousin said "How do you feel?" and I kind of fake smiled/laughed (?), my eyes not really focused on any fixed point, and said "I just need to keep going" and stumbled away into a jog. AND THEN I SAW MY FAVE TIKTOKER? I am not big into tiktok but if any of you know Dutch (dutchdeccc) I ran past him, did a double-take, TURNED AROUND and went up to him?? I spit out something incoherent like ohmygdiloveyourvideos, he was so sweet he grabbed my hand and said oh my gd thank you so much you are doing so great you are amazing! and I ran off into Central Park 😭

Central Park: There were making the miles longer here. I need to see the numbers and cold hard facts about the course measurements because these miles were longer than the other miles. I hated every second of miles 24 and 25 in the park. THAT was the pain cave. That was, of course I am going to finish because I came this far, but I have never felt this bad in my life. Running would get this over with sooner but my legs are no longer functioning and I might end up eating asphalt so we are walking 16-minute miles until we're out.

I knew certain ways my body would react to the distance because I've done long runs, but I didn't know most of the ways. Like, of course I have a calf cramp, that's what happens. But your legs spasming like in those videos you see of shaky runners who collapse right before the finish line—suddenly oh shit, I understand how that happens. It's not just one foot in front of the other, if I can't run I'll walk—at some point you cannot walk, but you have to figure out how to keep walking.

Central Park was fucking The Long Walk by Stephen King. I keep trying to remember specifics but I think my brain is blocking them out on purpose.

Central Park South: I'm crying again just recalling this. The final mile. You leave the park and run from Sherman's statue and the Plaza Hotel to Columbus Circle before reentering the park for the .2 finish. The hugeness of the marathon and achieving this goal finally hit me and I started crying, like actual tears—but my chest was so tight and achy that crying made it very hard to breathe, instantly, which was actually scary, so I stopped crying QUICK. Gathered myself. Most people were sticking to the right-hand side of the course, along Central Park, mostly empty of spectators. But I fucking needed people.

I can't overstate the power of the crowds at the NYC Marathon. Of course hype spectators are fun at any race, the cheering really is uplifting, the signs are funny. But at 25.7 miles you need more (at least I did) and New York City fucking delivered. I started walking along the barricade on the left, lined with people, and stared as many of them as I could dead in the eye. Literally forcing eye contact with these strangers lmao. It happened throughout the race—you catch a spectator's eye and connect with them, they say something right to your soul and you believe them. But I swear that entire barricade came through for me. It was sunset but still light enough they could read my name on my bib. I started jogging, high-fiving the kids, just looking from one face to the next begging them to talk to me, kept running just to see the next person. And they were smiling and cheering and it worked. I felt like the only person on the fucking course. I kept running even when I had to go right back into the park, uphill .2 miles to the finish.

I kept thinking "this is so fucking hard this is the hardest thing I've ever done if you just keep running to the finish you never have to run ever again." I truly felt like I sprinted across the finish line fast as Usain Bolt, but looking back at the video I was hobbling slightly faster than my 92-year-old grandmother.

The finishers area kinda makes you feel like a toddler, which is fitting because at that point, mentally, you can't think clearly. Like, your brain doesn't have any fuel left to process what's going on after running for 6 hours so the volunteers shepherd you through like a preschooler. Here is your medal, great job!, let me get you a warm poncho and wrap it up tight for you, do you see those big green signs over there, just follow them, yep!, is this bag too heavy for you, are you sure, okay, you did so good today. We must look like stunned baby deer.

Walked to Lincoln Center to meet my family. Nightmare bc once you're on the streets you directly encounter non-runners for the first time all day and most of them do not give a fuck. And as I said, you are physically and mentally struggling already.

But getting that medal is really fucking cool. And worth it

I won't bore you with the rest of the night (mostly ouch ouch stairs ow big step ough lying down hurts standing up hurts shower hurts eating makes me nauseated sleep is impossible) but over 24 hours out, I've never been sore like this. Just uncrossing my ankles hurts. I've always enjoyed the ache of a tough workout but this is something else. Proud of it though. However, unfortunately, I will be losing a toenail. Some may say that is a rite of passage for a distance runner but unpleasant and painful and kinda makes me dizzy nonetheless.

I've still barely had time to emotionally process any of this. I've wanted this for so long. Even as I was doing it, and trying to live in the moment, I could not believe I was actually running the New York City Marathon. And in 2024—this year I've dreaded for so long, the 10th anniversary of Phil's death, a year that's been unexpectedly brutal on me in so many other ways, too. But Phil was with me every step of the way, literally.

I've been wearing the medal all day even though it rubs against the sunburn on the back of my neck, trading little smiles and nods with my fellow runners. We fucking did it. I had no idea what that meant two days ago, what it took. If I did, I'm not sure I would've even tried. But we fucking ran the marathon babyyyyy

This is kind of the only thing I want to talk about so if you want to talk about it or have any questions or anything just let me know 🥺

[lurkingshan]

Every You, Every Me

Story 3

A mechanic! Not my Last Twilight trauma

Actually, now that he's stood up and I see this black tshirt and coveralls taken halfway down, his look is more Payu than Mhok

HE'S COMING TO ME

Okay listen, who put these mismatched hair extensions on this boy I just wanna talk 🔪

FIAT!!! I missed him

I continue to recognize but not be able to place most of the background music in this show, it's driving me nuts

What's with all these March 19s... no way

Are you telling me he's been stalking this kid at the graveyard for years on his mother's death anniversary? And he asked the mom’s dead spirit to bless their union before he even talked to him?? You a weirdo for this, X

He's never even talked to him all these years but he says he likes him. Love at first sight, I guess. "His mismatched hair extensions have bewitched me body and soul"

Btw why has this kid Namping had the exact same haircut for so many years, seems unlikely

I have no theory on the significance of their family members changing universe to universe but I am noting it

Does the little brother get a side romance in this one? They have two whole eps this time they're getting ambitious

This Bad Buddy style phone flirting across the balcony/window is very good

There's a real ominous vibe happening here, something is def going on that we don't know about

Well, that sure was a wholly unnecessary full body lift 😏

I think I would have preferred they use the time to go deeper on the main pair in this story rather than squeeze in a side couple, but this is a Thai BL, so

Something very charming about X getting excited and hitting his head on the undercarriage of the car

The extensions look better in this almost kiss scene god bless (btw that was mean, Namping)

The chemistry!! When they let them flirt these two are excellent

Hmmm Namping is P' here, but he def wasn't older in the last story, what does it meeeeeeean

"Stop asking" boy what are you hiding

Sexiest back hug of all time in BL?? Perhaps

Man, what the hell happened to Namping? Crying during sex and then disappearing on X and sobbing as he leaves. Why can't he tell X what's going on?? (and also me, please tell me). This all feels really needlessly cruel and I am struggling to imagine a scenario that would excuse it.

Welp! Ton showing up after a time skip alone, wearing all black, carrying a box sure doesn't bode well

The way they are dragging this secret out has officially become irritating. Just say what the fuck is going on.

Well, at least Namping knows he's a coward. Ffs. I cannot imagine how he justified leaving X in such an abrupt way, telling him nothing, leaving him waiting, knowing he will never come back. A terminal illness is not a good excuse for what he did to him, especially because his supposed reason was not wanting to be selfish. But his choices here were far more selfish and cruel than telling the truth and staying to be happy while he could.

This show is not really what I expected based on the way people talk about it. It's not all that light, for one. I've heard it described as being a fun speed run of fanfic tropes, but it's pretty dramatic (in the sense of dealing with heavier themes), and this last story at least was very melodramatic. It's the kind of maudlin terminal illness plot line you'd see in a decades-old drama. I guess that's the idea? We're just running through classic tropes, including some that have been all but retired. I still don't know if or how these different universes are meant to connect, or what to make of these characters. Should I view each iteration as separate from the ones before, or am I meant to think of these as the same souls repeating lives? It's interesting for sure.

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

Current opinion of Yanaby? I ask cause I haven't seen much opinion on them after the trailer on here, so I am curious.

Some people kept asking me abt Yarnaby, so here we go!

I think his design is a tad bit too goofy to be a horror monster. I think he's not Mommy Long Leg's levels of goofiness, even though she did manage to actually be a menace during Chapter 2, but him having a split mouth didn't exactly raise the scary level for me. It actually makes me worry as to how he eats because that looks like a pain for him 😭 at the same time, he reminds me of a flower, so it's an interesting detail for his mouth to open up sort of like one.

I don't think his design really leans into the uncaniness of actual toys, but his backstory is fascinating to me. Idk if we'll have a Sawyer cameo, but if we do I think it would be fun if Yarnaby was on his side. it would be interesting! Not that I think Mob could pull that off, of course.

About what little we know of him: I don't like the idea of a main antagonist being animal-like and only that, esp with him being previously a child. Huggy acted like an animal but I prefer the idea of him being perma stuck having the mentality of a 6 year-old child or younger than him being a wild animal. Yarnaby seems like he's going to full animal route...

Tldr: Don't like his design, don't like the idea of him being a wild animal, like his backstory and funny mouth.

[mountain--bones]

4/11: They Lament, But We Rejoice

(Some personal ramblings which also can function as day 1 of the Sol System's Alterhuman Writing Challenge!)

While I was showering yesterday I, as I often do, got lost in thought. I was thinking about myself and the path my life has taken, and how I've learned to relate to myself in a holistic way – flaws and all.

As I was thinking, I remembered some lyrics to a song I'd heard, but I couldn't remember the rest of the song or what it was called.

"'Cause when I saw my demons I knew them well and welcomed them"

This idea resonates with me a lot. Partially, it resonates in terms of my personality; I try my very best to accept the flaws in myself, and find the value in what they represent and connect to in my holistic self.

But, even more so, it's very easy to see my nonhuman self in this. I've come to understand that I am, at my core, something monstrous. I've related that inner, spiritual self to many different things before – a deity, an eldritch beast, an ancient spirit – but one of the first things I found myself thinking of it as was a demon.

I didn't think of it as demonic in a religious sense; it was more that it struck me as deeply, almost intrinsically adversarial to many of the things which are valued in the mainstream spirituality of western culture. It was chaos, animality, instinct, decomposition, death. And so: a demon.

When I found my demon, I knew it well, and welcomed it.

Given the melody of the song, it was pretty clear that the intended message was not one of radical reclamation of a self that would conventionally be considered abhorrent. So then I was curious – what's it really about?

And that's what made this so impactful and fascinating to me.

The song is The Lament of Eustace Scrubb, by the Oh Hellos.

Eustace Scrubb. If there's any character that stands out as an impactful early influence on my nonhumanity, it's Eustace Scrubb. But what's funny is how for me (and I'm sure a lot of other nonhuman folks), Eustace Scrubb is a character who represented an enigma – a contradiction to something which I so fervently craved.

For those who aren't familiar, Eustace Scrubb is a character from the Chronicles of Narnia whose selfishness led him to be turned into a dragon. And he hates it. He's so miserable about being a dragon instead of the boy he's meant to be. I couldn't understand it as a kid. Why would he hate being a dragon? Why would he want to be human?

The Lament of Eustace Scrubb is a song which was symbolically inspired by the struggle of this character – a lament about the loss of some valuable, sacred aspect of humanity, beneath layers of flaws and faults.

Here's the full lyrics.

Brother, forgive me We both know I'm the one to blame 'Cause when I saw my demons I knew them well and welcomed them I knew them well and welcomed them

But I'll come around I'll come around

Father, have mercy I know that I have gone astray 'Cause when I saw my reflection It was a stranger beneath my face It was a stranger beneath my face

But I'll come around I'll come around Someday

When I touch the water They tell me I could be set free

It's very easy, given context, to see the Christian themes here – especially given than the Chronicles of Narnia are also a deeply, explicitly Christian work.

But that just makes it more interesting how, reading these lyrics in the way I naturally want to in spite of the context, I find a meaning in them that's entirely opposite to what's intended – one that's positive and healing.

When I saw my demons, I knew them well and welcomed them.

When I saw the parts of myself that were unacceptable in society's eyes, instead of shunning them, I reached out. I offered them a welcoming hand. To embrace myself in a genuine way has always been more important than following along with what I'm told is "right".

Brother, forgive me – humanity, forgive me – because when I saw the monster inside me, I turned from humanity without a second thought, and without a single regret. The "demon" in me opened my eyes, set me free from rules and structures and beliefs which I never belonged or fit within.

I chose the monster over my humanity. I don't need humanity to forgive me for that, but there's something striking about the idea of regret. Not the regret of my path, or who I am; just a quiet regretfulness to betray something which utterly needed to be betrayed.

'Cause when I saw my reflection It was a stranger beneath my face

My reflection shows a human face. The stranger underneath – the self that I had never been allowed to be. It was a stranger to me, at first. I didn't know myself, because I had never been taught how to. I'd been taught how to speak and how to act, and all that ever amounted to was layers and layers of masks, obscuring the heart of me underneath them.

The grief here, for me, isn't that the stranger is inhuman. The grief is that the deepest part of me, that lay beneath the facade, was a stranger. That I didn't recognise my true self underneath, because it was hidden by the body showed in my reflection, and all the different ways I'd been taught to act as I "should" in a body like this.

When I touch the water They tell me I could be set free

A reflection in a pool. The surface shows a human face, but there's something stranger underneath it.

Touch the water. Break the reflection. Free the you which you've never let yourself be.

See what I'm saying here?

It's striking because this is so completely not what is intended by the lyrics of this song, and yet it forms such a meaningful picture of what nonhumanity is to me. It's striking because, like the story of Eustace Scrubb, there's joy and freedom and actualisation found in a concept that is presented as, and intended to be, something horrible.

The inhumanity is supposed to be a curse.

But for me, embracing my nonhuman self – welcoming my demons, the stranger in my reflection – was a release from a curse that I didn't know I was burdened with.

There's something deeply poignant in here for me. Something which felt worth writing about.

[roguemonsterfucker]

I think it's also interesting to note that these messages were sent after I posted a coming out message on Facebook. It was on National Coming Out Day, October 11th, 2017.

In the post, I didn't want to make it so much about me but about all the baggage that came with the idea of coming out. I wanted to acknowledge how so many people are in situations where it's unsafe for them to come out. How I hoped my coming out was a step towards a brighter future where "coming out" didn't need to be a thing anymore, where people didn't need to be afraid to be themselves.

And for my aunt and uncle to send those messages in response to that post... It's like... Y'all are the problem. Y'all are why people can't come out safely.

I'm very lucky I was born to pretty open minded people. I'm lucky I was born to my father instead of his siblings. Because even thought at one time my parents had told me that if I was gay, they'd disown me, they grew and changed. They're still conservative in ways that drive me up the walls, but they also still support me as their child. They have made sure that I have a safe place to live, food to eat, and can live as happy of a life as my anxious depressed self is capable of.

As angry as my aunt and uncle make me, I'm very privileged to have not been born to people like them. Other people are not so lucky and that is what my post was about.

I was able to come out as bi to my family and extended family and the worst I got was bible pounding facebook messages. I was fortunate.

Here's my coming out message, if anyone was interested. I wrote it seven years ago so I'm not sure how well it holds up today but hopefully it's not offensive. 😅

It’s National Coming Out Day today. People shouldn’t feel like they have to come out, today or at all, because it isn’t always safe for them or they just aren’t ready. And some people just don’t feel the need to come out and that’s fine too.

I'm fortunate to be in a safe situation. Unlike so many people who are kicked out of their living situations, or put at risk for emotional or even physical abuse for just being themselves. LGBTQ+ folks are constantly at risk of violence by those who cannot accept them. They are constantly told they are "wrong" for being themselves. Sometimes they are completely invalidated in their feelings by being told "you'll grow out of it," "it's just a phase," and "you'll feel differently when you find the right man/woman."

I am coming out on this day, but I want to take this time to think of something more important than my own status. I want to remember all the people who have come before me and paved the way for me to be able to come out today. All the people that have fought and died so that future generations of LGBTQ+ people can live in this world, knowing they belong here, knowing they are accepted, and knowing they are loved. I want to take this day and think about the people who are in unsafe situations, preventing them from coming out, or perhaps they are out and are being treated terribly because of it.

I am coming out today in the hopes of someday, people won't have to come out. All sexualities will be equally accepted. No one will assume everyone to be straight. No one will flinch when a woman says "my wife" or a man says "my husband." Trans women will be treated as women and not "men in dresses." Trans men will be treated as men and not "tomboys." This is the future I am working towards.

I am coming out today as bi.

Me: People are often told they're wrong for being themselves.

My aunt and uncle after seeing that post: You are wrong for being yourself.

🙄

Don’t wanna add it to a post that was meant to be a good story but I can’t get over the fact that my uncle said I had a “beautiful female body” when trying to talk me out of being trans. 😬

Like. I don’t think this uncle is a creep or anything but maybe don’t say that about your brother’s child?

Anyways yeah my dad’s sister and brother stalked my tumblr for years despite my activism there (not this blog) clearly upsetting them. We didn’t know why at the time but they were very cold to me and my family while my grandpa was dying and now I think it’s because of my blog.

My aunt apparently emailed my dad a few times regarding the content of my blog, potentially outing me to my conservative family while I was reliant on them to live.