#but it's mediocre it's not outright bad

[kurokoros]

the way shonen manga consistently fumble the ending should be studied.

[arowithwood]

A few months ago I was really considering dropping Biology as a subject, but now it’s one of my best (if not the best because I haven’t got Geography back yet) grades from the AS transition exams, and I’ll probably drop Chemistry instead if I feel I need to drop one (which I do tbh) because I did Pretty Badly on it

[sp00kymulderr]

it might be nice

Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Warnings/Tags/Notes: 18+. FEELINGS. Angst. love. just...feelings. Mention of f receiving oral, reader is a not a us-citizen (visa stuff), commitment and intimacy issues all round, did I mentioned feelings? This just kinda started writing itself, i appreciate there isn't enough Dieter in it but it is what it is. Unedited, unbeta'd.

Words: 1.1k

Summary: It's more than enough. Having what you have with him now.

"We could get married"

You look up from your book, drawn back from your far away to the sound of his voice. Dieter is looking at you expectantly.

Your eyes widen as you process the four words that just left his mouth.

"Dee, we…why would we…" You trail off, drawing your legs up and out of his lap, his thumb presses down on the arch of your foot once more before he lets it go.

The conversation had moved on hours ago. Over takeout you'd mentioned trepidation over being able to stay in the country, struggling with your visa and having no sponsorship since you couldn't seem to get a fucking job right now.

Dieter had listened, sympathised, and then eaten you out for dessert just to make you feel better about your situation.

It helped. He'd been pretty mediocre but extremely enthusiastic when you'd met, but now you'd taught him some tricks he knew just how to turn your mind off for a moment.

The conversation was finished the moment he put his mouth on you, or so you thought. He could help you pay for an extension but he wasn't influential or wealthy enough to sway the embassy into letting you stay longer.

"I'd bribe the fuck out of them if I could, you know that"

You did know that. You knew he'd do anything for you. He'd been saying it since the day he met you, once famous (more like infamous) movie star turned rehabilitated recluse with no one willing to be by his side until that day.

He'd met you in a Dennys, of all places. 3am waffles served to his lonely little corner booth because he found it hard to sleep these days, and he got hungry at random times. You took the late shifts because they paid the best, and you could be available in the day for calls from your agent that never came.

It hadn't been sexual at first. It hadn't been anything but a displaced, alone man and an exhausted, untethered waitress sitting in a booth and sharing free fries because chef made too many and they'd only go to waste. It had been whispered giggles, and sharing ridiculous Hollywood horror stories, and 'same time tomorrow' over and over again.

No one in LA had made you laugh. Not until you met him.

Dieter hadn't heard genuine laughter in years. Now he got to hear it every night.

Back in the now, you shake your head. He's being silly. He's trying to make you laugh again.

"Don't be stupid" You playfully shove his shoulder with your foot, but his face falls into a frown, and you feel a little crack in your heart at the sight. You watch as he stands, rubbing fingers across his forearm and muttering a little 'Stupid, yeah'. The tremor you feel inside you is nameless, and you will it to remain that way.

In the last six months of your knowing each other, there have been times when you've felt this same feeling. An ache at the thought that he could be anything other than happy. You'd long since left Dennys for the upward trajectory of the Cheesecake Factory but still when the late shift rolls around you feel a tug at your lips and a name on them, even when you'd seen him only hours before.

You're not an item, that's the thing. You're not a couple. Neither of you have ever said the words outright, no 'I want to be with you', 'I want to be yours'. Not to each other, at least.

It's more than enough. Having what you have with him now. It's enough, it's enough, it's enough. Enough that he will sit up all night long and read lines with you again and again and again. Enough that he tells you not to come over on his bad days but you do anyway, and hold him while he cries.

It's enough to be just this. Because more would only make it hurt more when he relapses, when you have to leave.

When you have to leave…

You close your book, set it down on the table that's strewn with pages for your latest audition. Last night he'd coached you through every single line, and then told you with passion just how perfect you were. You can hear him in the kitchen, and you know he's making himself a decaf latte with way too much caramel syrup and a dash of the kitkat sprinkles because that's what he always makes when he might be starting to crave something else.

That's how you know he wasn't making a joke. That's how you know your hurt his feelings. That and every look he's ever given you, every smile that lights up his eyes that's only been for you. That and the way his hands never stray far from you, always grounding himself with the touch of your skin to his.

"Dee…" You pad up to him slowly, watch as he tenses at your presence. Another prickle in your chest, you can't let him think you don't feel...what it is that you feel.

"Would it be so bad?" He asks without turning, the tinge of dejection in his tone making you reach out. "I'd treat you good, you know. We wouldn't even have to live together or anything…it can just be a way for you to stay. That's all. I didn't think it would be so bad for you"

God, you've had him right in your grasp this whole time. The two of you dancing around your feelings all because of fears you didn't even fully realise you had til now.

"I'd- I wouldn't even tell anyone you were my wife, if you didn't want me to. I wouldn't expect anything from it. I just…fuck,"

You turn him around with a pull to his arm, shake your head and bite back something hopeful and beautiful that inches up your throat,

"I don't want you to go"

Your arms are around his middle, a stifled sob as you bury your face against the soft, worn fabric of his favourite t-shirt - your favourite by extension because everything he loves you love too. He smells like him.

You breathe him in.

He smells like home.

You look up at him and smile. Not the pretty smile you give to casting agents - the one that makes you look perfect - but the big, happy, loving one he saw the very first night you two met in that Dennys at three in the morning on a random Tuesday. The one he gives you back is the same; he's smiled a thousand times on camera, in films and press appearances and award shows. No one else but you has ever seen this smile.

You take a deep breath. The crack in your heart starts in fusing back together.

"We could get married"

[rotzaprachim]

the extent to which some college encampments have managed to independently recreate borders, guards, checkpoints, and identity tests/quizzes (and arguably passports/identification) is a phd in itself and a really mediocre 21st century lord of the flies knockoff

you need a wristband to enter? That’s a passport. Encampment for a specific political orientation? That’s an internally ideologically defined identity test. You need to keep people at the entrance and exists to make sure everyone who enters and exists is an ally or good person or outright not trying to infiltrate the camp? Congrats. That’s a checkpoint. Asking questions to make sure they have values that align with yours? Checkpoint. You quiz people on their identities or relations to political ideology? That can even become an ethnically defined internal identity.

I don’t mean all of these things are inherently bad, but it is worth noting and reflecting how quickly they were set up by people whose stated ideology is to oppose ALL of them. Provides a lot of insight into how important praxis actually is, and the uncomfortable fact a lot of liberatory and rebellious nationalisms or ideologies have gotten damn invested in borders checkpoints and guards in the transition to actually holding structural political power

[lovebugism]

can I request steeb taking care of shy!reader who is upset after a bullying incident in school? I figured she would be a year younger (like robin’s grade) because I don’t think anyone would touch her if king steve was around. I feel like he’s be so soft with her but also reeling at the thought that someone hurt his girl!

thanks for ur request anon! idk if i can count this as a blrub because it's nearly 3k words but alas pls enjoy! tw for blood (knee scrapes) and j*son c*rver

You come to Family Video with a scrape on your left knee.

It’s not the weirdest thing in the world — you ride a worn-down bike that’s probably older than you are. Steve’s been begging you to get a new one for as long as he’s known you, outright offering to pay for the damn thing as long as he’s sure it’ll get you to him without getting hurt in the process.

You reject him every time. “It gets me where I need to go,” you always shrug. “What more could I want from it?”

And he wants so badly to be angry at the beauty you manage to find in mediocrity. But he can’t be, really. It’s why you fell in love with him in the first place, isn’t it? Why you took the heartbroken boy in your arms on Halloween night in 1984 and convinced him he wasn’t bullshit despite what he told you. He’d be an idiot to be mad at how kind you are.

But when you walk into Family Video, halfway limping with blood dripping down your knee, he knows it’s different. 

Something more than a toppled bike hurt you.

“Oh, god, babe,” he winces from where he stands at the counter with Robin. “What happened?”

“I fell,” you shrug as he races over to you.

“You fell?” Robin scoffs. “Knock me out with a feather.” You know she’s joking, but it’s a little too monotone, and you’re a little too sensitive. Something in her words hurts more than your throbbing knee.

Steve, who knows you like the back of his hand, understands exactly what your diverted gaze means. When you look down to the floor, he shoots Robin a firm glare.

What? she mouths, obviously confused at the sudden silence.

“Can you get the first aid kit from the back? I think there might be some gauze in there,” he asks, deciding to change the conversation entirely. He wraps an arm around your waist and walks slowly with you to the counter. He meets your grimace with a soft smile. “I’ll clean it, wrap it up, and you’ll be good as new.”

You don’t give him anything in response. Not even a pity smile.

He sits you on the counter with the open first-aid kit beside you. Robin flips the store sign to closed. It’s barely five o’clock. She starts tidying up the store to go home, anyway.

Steve wipes up the warm blood with a napkin and cleans the scrape with an alcohol wipe. You hiss at the feeling — it’s like a hundred tiny bee stings. From where he sits just below you on a worn swivel chair behind the counter, he leans in to press a kiss just above the cut.

Without all the blood, it looks a lot less gnarly than before.

“See? It’s not so bad,” the boy smiles as he unravels some gauze. “I’ll patch it up, baby you for the rest of the night, and you’ll forget it ever hurt by morning.”

Again, you don’t even smile. You just purse your lips to the side and nod.

Steve’s heart stings, but he doesn’t take anything by it. He wraps the bandage down and over your knee in an even rhythm. He tries not to be so direct when he asks: “How’d this happen, anyway, huh? Did Ol’ Sliver finally give up on you?”

You shake your head, eyes on the gauze instead of the boy. The white cloth splotches with pink from where your wound still weeps. “No,” you answer quietly. “Just fell.”

“Just fell, huh?” he repeats quietly. A few caramel-colored strands fall over his forehead as he peers up at you with his chin tilted towards his chest. He tries his best to smile. “You’re givin’ me the sad eyes, babe. I feel like it was more than just a fall.”

“It was stupid…”

He scoffs. “Never.”

“A car drove by me,” you confess, only half-lying. You try to look down at him, but your gaze wavers along with your courage. “And the music was kinda loud, and it… It startled me a little.”

You don’t tell him that Jason Carver intentionally swerved on the wrong side of the road to scare you — or that he yelled mean things through the rolled-down passenger window before speeding off again. It’s easier to keep it to yourself. You don’t want it to become a whole thing.

Steve’s brows furrow as he tucks the end of the bandage to keep it from unraveling. “Were they going too fast?”

“I don’t know. Kind of.”

“It wasn’t those football assholes, was it? I swear to god, they need their license revoked.”

“No,” you answer, quick to soothe his rising anger. “It was— It wasn’t anyone. I just got scared, and I swerved off the road, okay?”

Even in your mousy voice, it sounds like you’re being stern with him. And you’re never stern with him.

“Well, that’s okay,” Steve assures with a shrug. “We all get scared. It’s better than you getting hit, I guess.”

“I guess,” you echo with a huff, a teasing smile on your lips.

Steve grins back, happy to see you less pained. He smacks a gentle kiss to your wrapped-up knee. “Go get in the car, okay? I’ll clean up here, put your bike in the trunk, and we can go home.”

You go shy as you peer at him from beneath your lashes. “Your home?” you clarify, secretly hoping he’ll say yes.

His answer isn’t surprising. “Of course, my home. You practically live there, anyway.”

You smile and brush a soft kiss to the scruff of his jaw, murmuring a quiet thank you there before leaving. You’re not limping nearly as badly as you had been before.

Robin waits for the door to ding shut before blurting: “I think it was Jason.” 

Steve stills with the first-aid kit in his hands. He squints at her from where she stands between the horror and X-rated horror aisles. 

“What?”

“I think that’s who might’ve run her off the road.”

“…Why?”

“He gives her a hard time sometimes, I don’t know,” she explains vaguely and with a sigh. “Normally, it’s stupid. Like, honestly, I just think he’s super shit at flirting. Maybe he was just trying to scare her and… got a little carried away…”

Anger burns red hot in Steve’s chest. It blooms just behind his ribcage like a flower with fire for petals.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks through gritted teeth, trying not to sound too angry. It’s not like Robin was the one who hurt you, after all — just some douchebag who wouldn’t have laid a hand on you if he knew who your boyfriend was. 

Steve’s knuckles go white as his grip tightens on the plastic box.

“Because I thought it was harmless!” Robin agonizes as she rushes to meet him. Her deep ocean eyes swim with worry, frightened that he might be angry at her. “Seriously. Most of the time, it sounds like he’s just being mean to get into her pants. And, like, I don’t know if that’s how he landed Chrissy back in the day or what, but he’s obviously got no clue what kind of girl he’s flirting with because…”

She trails off at Steve’s hardened umber gaze.

Robin groans and leans over the counter, reaching for the boy’s wrist. “Please don’t be mad at me, Stevie. My heart can take that. I’ll be sick for days—”

“I’m not mad at you, Rob,” the boy promises. He sighs. “I just gotta… go beat up a kid now.”

—————

You’re too focused on the stars and the feeling of Steve’s warm hand on your thigh to notice he’s taking the wrong route home.

The car slows way sooner than you expected. When you come back down from the clouds, you find that you’re in a near-empty lot. The car jolts softly when Steve puts it in park.

“What are we doing?” you turn to him with furrowed brows.

Steve unclicks his seatbelt. “I’ll be right back.”

You look past him, at the large building lit up by amber streetlamps and the green door with a light in its window. Every so often, someone will whip by it wearing a white jersey. Your heart sinks.

“Why are we at school?” you asked, scrunched-faced in a mixture of anger and worry. You don’t know how he knows what happened to you, only that he does know.

“I need to take care of something here. It’s okay—”

“Don’t go in there,” you plead. “Please. Let’s just go home—”

“I’ll be right back,” he repeats. He leans over the console to kiss your cheek. You don’t lean into it like you usually do.

“Steve—”

The car door shuts and cuts off the rest of your pleas.

Steve has an easy time getting into the gym. The backdoor is propped open with a small wooden block like it always is. The coaches welcome him in like usual. They beam as the old team captain waltzes into the newly painted gym like he owns the place.

“Harrington!” the burly man calls over the sounds of squeaking shoes and bouncing basketballs. “Come to turn in an application, finally? I’ve only been asking you to be co-coach since you graduated.”

Steve smiles coolly. “No. Not yet… I, uh— I actually needed to talk to one of your players.”

The man shoots him a look.

“Jason Carver.”

“Oh,” the man chuckles, a deep belly laugh. “You only wanna pull my star player out of practice, huh?”

“It’ll take, like, two seconds. Tops.”

A momentary stare-off ensues. Steve knows the answer he’s going to get. Everyone at this damn school has got a soft spot for him. Perks of being Hawkins High royalty, he figures.

“Two,” the coach says in the place of any real answer. 

He takes the green whistle from his neck and blows into it. The shrill sound echoes through the gym. Like trained dogs, the boys on the court still.

“Carver!” the man shouts, almost too loudly. Steve winces from beside him. “Get over here!”

Jason passes the ball off and jogs to meet them without question. When Steve says he’s got something to tell him, the blonde-haired boy smiles like it’s a privilege. Red-faced and out of breath, he trails behind Steve as they walk out into the hallway.

“Don’t tell me you’re coming to be assistant coach,” the boy says with an audible smile. “Coach Blair has only been talking about it for a year—”

When the double doors shut behind him, Steve whips around and shoves the boy into the lockers. They clang beneath his sudden weight and echo down the empty corridor. Jason’s smug face contorts into shock. “—What the hell?”

He tries to regain his footing, but Steve only shoves him backward again. His hands twist in the neck of his jersey. 

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” Jason shouts.

Steve’s stern features never waver. He leans in close, eyes trained on the boy like a predator to prey. “Leave my girl alone,” he threatens lowly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I don’t know who your girl is—”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about,” Steve spits in response. The lockers bang once more when he shoves the boy backward again. “Should break your leg for what you did to her. What would the star player do then, huh?”

Jason’s wide eyes flit between the both of Steve’s. He racks his brain for what he might’ve done so wrong and who he might’ve done it to. He gapes at the realization — “Bambi? Bambi’s your girlfriend?”

“Oh, that’s what you call her?” Steve muses in a monotone, feigning interest. “How cute.”

“I didn’t know, man. I swear. If I knew, I never would’ve—”

“I don’t care. And stop pleading, alright? It’s embarrassing.”

Jason goes quiet. His Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. Steve’s hand loosens on his jersey. His ice-cold gaze never wavers.

“I don’t wanna know what you did to her. I don’t wanna know why you’re doing it, either — if you think she’s pretty, or if she’s easy-pickings for assholes like you — I don’t care.” He presses the boy further into the lockers, their noses inches apart. “But if I hear you’re messing with her, talking about her to your friends— if you so much as look in her direction again, I promise you won’t like what I do to you.”

Jason’s jaw clenches. He juts out his chin in a feeble attempt to make himself taller. “Yeah?”

Steve nods. “Yeah.”

“That’s real rich coming from someone who couldn’t even beat up Jonathan Byers.”

“I’ve learned a lot since then,” the older boy promises, weirdly composed. “Feel free to find out if you don’t believe me.”

The boy stays quiet.

Steve shoves him backward when he lets go of him. He gives him a final glare and one last warning before walking back toward the gym. “And plant your feet when you’re on the court, alright? It’d be a real shame if you broke an ankle.”

—————

The drive to his house is silent.

It usually is. Most of the time, you’re too zoned into the music or making shapes in the clouds to talk. But now it’s because you’re angry. Steve would be an idiot not to notice. He can feel it radiating off of you like steam.

He reaches for the console and turns the air-con up.

“Are you hot?” he asks in a feeble attempt to break the quiet.

With your arms crossed and your gaze out the window, you deadpan: “I’m mad.”

“I feel like that’s sorta the same thing,” Steve jokes with a weak, lopsided smile.

“I didn’t want you to do that,” you choke through a tight throat. “You’re just gonna make it worse.”

“Well, it wouldn’t have gotten so bad if you would’ve just told me.”

You turn to him with eyes glassy from unshed tears. A stoplight bathes the both of you in shades of neon scarlet. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d do something about it,” you spit.

“So you’d rather let some asshole run you off the road, huh? Is that it?”

He doesn’t mean to be so harsh. He’s just upset, and the adrenaline’s making him antsy. 

Steve learned a long time ago not to be so forward with you. Even if he’s just joking around, even if he’s mad and saying shit he doesn’t mean — you’re not built for that. You’re made of something softer: marshmallow fluff and crocheted yarn and flower petals. It’s why you let Jason Carver pick on you for so long without saying a word about it.

“It’s not like that,” you argue quietly, blinking back tears as you turn away from him again.

Steve sighs. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean— I’m just upset, okay? I didn’t mean to yell.”

“I know…”

“I just wish you would tell me these things, you know?”

His hand is warm on the skin of your thigh as he smooths his palm over it. Your eyes flit to your leg and then to him. You nod. “I know. I just…” Your features crumple when you trail off. 

Steve squeezes your thigh in reassurance. “You just what?”

“I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t handle myself,” you confess quietly. “Everyone thinks I’m so weak. I didn’t want you to think that, too.”

“I don’t think you’re weak,” Steve scoffs out a laugh, like he almost can’t believe you’d even think something like that.

Your brows furrow. “No?”

“No. Not even a little bit. But as your boyfriend— ‘cause I am your boyfriend, right?”

You meet his teasing gaze with a half-hearted scowl. You’ve only been dating for a year and a half. You nod to humor him.

“Exactly. So, as your boyfriend, it’s my job to help you through the hard shit, you know? Just because you can get through it on your own doesn’t mean you have to.”

Your chest swells. You try not to smile too wide, but it’s hard not to. You’ve never had someone who wanted to protect you before. It’s as strange as it is gratifying.

“Okay,” you concede with a nod.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” you repeat with a giggle.

Steve leans over the console, moving slowly like his lips are made of magnets that drift to yours. Through the overwhelming urge to kiss you, he jokes: “Is it— and I’m just checking here— is it okay?”

You shake your head and lean to meet him halfway. “You’re such a dork.”

Your lips barely brush before a loud honk echoes behind you. You jolt apart from him, not noticing that the light had turned green until then. 

Steve sighs and mourns your unkissed lips. His engine roars softly as he presses on the gas.

He’d noticed. He saw the light change about twenty seconds ago — how the bright crimson changed into a softer shade of lime that bathed you in its neon hues. He just loved the way you looked in green.

[oakdll]

I think we need a Persona 4 remake more than a lot of people think, I’ve seen most people look at that game with rose tinted glasses (or rather yellow tinted glasses…) because it’s a great game, but there are likely more flaws than you remember. The gameplay is just really not that great. It is HARD carried by the characters and story. I’ve seen so many people forget that a lot of the gameplay is just flat out bad. Like not just mediocre, but outright not fun. The dungeons really aren’t that engaging and there are so many janky mechanics that are super frustrating for first time players. I’ve been replaying P4 along with a friend playing for the first time and there are really a lot of mechanics that are just annoying to deal with. She pretty much always rushes through the dungeons as much as possible and only really focuses on the social links and story. I know a lot of people are hesitant about a P4 remake, but I really do think it’s necessary if Atlus wants P4 to come anywhere close to the success and quality of P3R and P5R now.

It makes sense why so many people don’t think P4 needs a remake because there is so much charm and character that would be near impossible to replicate in a remake, but I really hope they can try. They would have to get the same voice cast as Golden or there would be rioting in the streets. If they do a recast it would have to be the best recast of all time for me to accept it. It does seem more realistic getting the original P4G voice cast together for this than the original P3 cast though. I also really hope they can match the nostalgic setting and feeling of Inaba too, that is so key to the game and messing it up would really hurt.

I also think the potential for Femc here is much bigger than people expect. P5 came extremely close to getting a Femc with Yoshizawa and P3R came really close but was stopped by budgetary constraints. Without the DLC and all the need for new content such as Linked Episodes, P4R could likely fit in the budget and time for adding a Femc. Atlus knows the demand for it, and they probably won’t release a remake without at least one unique feature.

I also do hope they keep Marie, I know people criticize her a lot because of how phoned in she feels but that could probably be fixed now that they would be building the game from the ground up. I never disliked Marie as a character, I mostly just had problems with the execution of her arc and her social link.

[deltajuli]

its not even that good of an excuse to say "seperate the art from the artist" when said artist cant take criticism and comments on it 24/7, and the fans are a) mysognistic and b) overly obsessed with defending the artist even though she's horrific

and the shows are either mediocre or outright bad

[gffa]

As someone who read DC comics from like 2000 to 2011, dropped them like a hot potato that year, and didn't come back until 2023, I've had a lot of thoughts about how comics feel different. I don't disagree that comics feel a lot softer these days in many ways, but I also have been finding them a lot easier to jump into and I think one thing that doesn't get talked about enough is the art. I kept at it in the old days, but a lot of the time the art was brutal. I had to be pre-invested in the characters (by inhaling a lot of B:TAS and JL:TAS and S:TAS) to actually want to stick around through a lot of art that was just not engaging and, yeah, the stories were good, but it's hard to stick around in such a visual medium when the art so often was mediocre to just bad. Coming back to comics now, it's shocking to me how easy it is to find not just good art, but often times genuinely beautiful art. I can pretty much throw a rock and hit a book that at least looks cool stylized if not outright gorgeous. It's not that it never happened before (I will die on the hill that Tim Sale's art was incredible), but it was never this frequent. It has been so much easier to pick up books and recommend them to people when I'm not internally wincing about how I'm going to have to ask them to look past the art. Art taste is subjective and dialogue taste is subjective, but having taken a lot of time off in between what comics used to be like and what they're like now, instead of getting used to a gradual change, I've noticed a stark difference and how much friendlier that's made it to get into and stay into comics.

[lorebeth]

Hello. I was wondering if you could make a platonic Honkai Star Rail story with the reader being Jing Yuan's child and but they ended up running away to stay with their mother because they keep messing things up especially after Jing Yuan and the readers mother got divorced. it takes awhile but a few months later the reader suddenly returned to the Loufu because of some disaster where the reader had been living with their mother and Jing Yuan also wanted to talk the reader so he would finally be able to apologize to them especially after he accidentally saw the diary they kept on their computer. (I was kind of inspired by the first episode of The Owl House season three Thank To Them for this request but If you're not not comfortable with writing this that's completely alright and I wish you a good morning/afternoon or goodnight☺️)

I nearly cried bro I accidentally deleted everything I’m gonna sob but I rewrote it!!

IM SO SORRY IVE LITERALLY BEEN DEAD I SWEAR THE SECOND I WROTE FANFICS I GOT YHE MOST DEADLY COUGH OF MY LIFE I WAS SICK FOR THREE MONTHS STRAIGHT 😭😭😭 I HAD WHOOPING COUGH ISTG

My exams started a little while ago too and I had a request before this, I HOPE THIS IS GOOD ENOUGH AND IM SORRY ITS SO LATE OMG I DIDNT MEAN TO DROP OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH!!!

TW: mention of bad coping mechanisms - no outright mention of sh, yanqing and reader share a sibling bond, jing yuan is kinda ooc in my opinion… I genuinely think there’s a paragraph missing somewhere and a bunch of spelling mistakes so please bare with me 🙏🙏🙏 Yanqing referred to as brother multiple times near the end!!! 

It all started after the divorce. Your grades plummeted and your training sessions with your father became scarce. Your footing during combat was mediocre at best and you found yourself closing off from friends and even your own father.

He was worried about you from the beginning, never wanting you to be at the centre of the messy divorce especially during one of the most stressful weeks at the Luofu no doubt. The IPC had arrived on short notice and demanded immediate attention, leaving your father to worry about not only them but how you felt and your mental state too. 

How he showed his care however… It was not the best. He would make sure others spent time with you in his place, whenever you wanted to see him, you would be notified by a guard or one of his subordinates who would be tasked to hang out with you that he was unavailable and you wouldn’t see him until later. 

This did not make you feel better, instead you got into contact with your mother again, her reaching out and asking to spend time with you. You didn’t know how to feel and had mixed emotions but ultimately coming to the conclusion to give her a chance and slowly working up to a happier relationship with her again. Not only were you disappointed at your father but also your mother. 

She told you all about her new home and how it resembled the Luofu so much, how she would be delighted for you to join her one day. You liked that idea a lot! Especially since you had a feeling that your father’s subordinates didn’t want to babysit you anymore.

You worked on yourself and started training again, this time not with your father. The IPC had left weeks ago and promised to come back to settle matters with your father once and for all. You didn’t care about that though, you still hadn’t seen your father in a week up until the point of training.

“That’s right, Y/N!” Yanqing praised. He had become one of your closest companions and you both had a sibling-like bond: he knew you better than anyone else and you vice versa. He had become your pillar and knew all your secrets, even about the unhealthy coping you had developed and how to better maintain your emotions and habits during the tough days. 

Jing Yuan knew of you two’s training sessions and had guards keep him posted on your location at all times. He didn’t want to admit it, but he kept himself away from you at the fear of being neglectful and disappointing you again. He remembers the last time you both were in the same room, you had begged to play chess with him. He had pushed you away, saying;

“I’m busy, Y/N. Please go find someone else.” 

He in fact wasn’t that busy, he just couldn’t bare to see you and thought you were disappointed in him. He replayed that scenario in his head multiple times the entire week he’s gone without seeing you and at the back of his mind is the broken relationship with your mother. He cannot bring himself to forgive what he had done to your mother to make her leave, and he was worried you would eventually leave him as well. In desperate attempt, he would send you trinkets and clothing to try repair the missing attention he couldn’t give you, but you stopped taking them after a while. His heart couldn’t bare to see you upset at him, so he buried himself in his paper work. Surprising all those around him, especially Fu Xuan. She was extremely impressed and scared. She had no clue when he became so serious about his work and almost drowning himself in it. 

Fu Xuan knew it had to do with you. She was one of your mothers closest friends and knew that you went through one of the toughest situations of all, your parents both fighting for custody and ultimately putting you in the middle of their arguments. She also had to hang out with you in place of Jing Yuan sometimes, knowing exactly how you felt and being able to read you like an open book. She couldn’t help but feel angry at your father, cursing him and his stupidity. For a General, he sure was an idiot for denying you the love and attention you deserved, instead making others give it to you when you instead needed your father.

You fucked up. Earlier this morning in a final attempt to reconnect with your father, you walked in on a meeting of his. You had no clue he had visitors and you went everywhere in the house trying to look for him. He never let you get involved in meetings - stating you were too young and shouldn’t worry about such trivial matters. You tried to respect his wishes every time, knowing he was a well respected figure and you didn’t want to mess that up for him.

“So, this morning I received word from-“ the voice of your father stopped as you opened the door to his private study. His closest subordinates sitting around a table, waiting for him to finish his sentence. Everyone turned to look at you and you felt your face get hot, your knees wobble and tears prick your eyes. You screwed the fuck up. 

“I’m sorry! I was just-“ you couldn’t finish off the sentence, you felt your throat closing up in panic. You made eye contact with everyone, noticing pity and sympathy in their eyes. You hated it so much… But what caught you the most off guard was the hard expression on your fathers face. His eyes calculating and holding an emotion you couldn’t decipher. You wanted to explode on the spot.

Quickly and almost aggressively, you slammed the door behind you, shaking the hinges and wanting the ground to swallow you whole more than ever. 

The look in your fathers eyes. Was he disappointed with you? Did he have enough? Did he not love you anymore? Were you being too pushy about hanging out with him? Why was he looking at you so coldly? You wanted to cry and sob and forget about everything. Go back to the days before the divorce. You wanted everything to be the way it was. Going out with your mother and father, being showered with love and affection, being given small trinkets that your father said reminded him of both you and your mother. 

You felt yourself spiralling again. You needed to go see Yanqing and quick. 

“Oh Y/N…” Yanqing nearly pleaded with you. He knew that look on your face, your swollen eyes and your weak frown, he was immediately sympathetic and knew something bad happened between you and Jing Yuan. 

Yanqing himself considered Jing Yuan his father in a sense too and you his sibling, so he knew you well enough to grasp you and Jing Yuan’s connection. He also loved your mother as his own and the divorce hit him pretty harsh as well. But he understood they fought about you the most, and how helpless you felt. He never held that against you and tried his best to make sure you were safe and as happy as could be, but right now? What the hell happened?

“What happened? Do you want to talk about it?” He held you in his arms as you felt your tears never ending.

“I think father’s upset with me…” you couldn’t help inhale air with small hiccups and double takes, staining Yanqing’s shirt with your salty tears. You wanted to pry away and apologise but you felt too weak and mentally exhausted. You felt stupid and not worth it, not worth your father.

“I’m sure it was all a misunderstanding, Y/N! He loves you, of course he does!” Yanqing offered, he help you tighter and you felt all your emotions explode again, crying harder than before.

“You should have seen the look on his face- he stared and stared with that cold look!” you wrapped your arms around Yanqing’s back and clung onto him hopelessly. 

“I- N/N…” he started, only for you to cut him off.

“Y’know… I’ve been thinking about moving with mother…” you sniffled, having calmed down much more than before. You felt Yanqing freeze around you.

“W-what do you mean?” He uttered in disbelief.

You dropped your arms slowly and looked up at the young boy, wiping your tears and holding his hand in your own. 

“Let’s face it. Things haven’t been the same since the divorce. Father’s been avoiding me like the plague, sending everyone but him to come hang out with me. For Aeon’s sake, he didn’t even come to the park like we always used to on the First Full Moon of the month…” you whispered, emotion turning your voice hoarse and painful, as if thorns were tightening at your throat.

“But- but it could get better! I’m sure if I spoke to him, he’d understand!” Yanqing stared at you with determination in his eyes, his hope shining bright. 

“I don’t think it will. Not after today. I promise to come visit you, I swear it! I just- I don’t want to embarrass myself more in front of father than I already have. I don’t think he deserves that.” you state gently. 

For the first time in a few weeks, you felt excited. Not that hanging out with Yanqing and sending letters to your mother wasn’t fun, but you genuinely wanted some where new to explore, a different atmosphere away from the burden of trying to please a father who couldn’t even bother look you in the eyes. You needed a change of pace.

“I promise I’ll write you to everyday!” You beam at him. The boy looks at you with uncertainty in his gaze and sadness. After losing your mother, he didn’t want to lose you too. But he knew it would make you happier than ever. And plus, he loves reading your spelling mistakes. It’s a win-win in his book.

You had left nearly 3 months ago, keeping your promise and sending voice recordings to your brother and small videos here and there, as well as handwritten envelopes with flowers from the beautiful planet your mother came to. She had told you it’s history and how they had been rebuilding themselves as an Oasis in the making. Her mother, your grandmother came from this beautiful planet and you couldn’t help but notice how similar you looked to the natives here. You felt at home, much more than you ever did on the Luofu.

You hadn’t told you father about your departure, having opted to pack you bags immediately and call your mother, asking for a quick and easy way to travel to her home world. She accepted immediately and welcomed you with open arms.

You eventually told her why you left and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “That man wouldn’t know discipline and responsibility if it hit him with the entire Luofu itself! How he’s made it all these years is beyond me. I’m sorry you experienced that my love. I’m glad you’re with me now.” She would scoff at your father’s actions and always pat your head, getting ready to go to work or take you out during her days off. She would also help you record videos for Yanqing and would mention how she missed her son dearly, always calling him hers and asking if he’s been eating well, showing in her own way she cares.

You didn’t want to know about your father and Yanqing never told you, waiting only to tell you when you asked. Which never came.

Eventually, you had made friends with the locals, learned your native tongue and made sure that everyone was happy, having been placed to understudy your mother and work alongside her in the Guild to provide for the elders of the City. You also volunteered to as many soup kitchens as possible and helped with poverty wherever you could. Your mothers home was beautiful but the economy was rather poor, leading to the fittest to provide for the elders and young children. 

You returned home one day after a successful evening at the kitchen only to have received three distress signals from Yanqing and one from your father. You felt sick to your stomach and as if you were about to faint. 

Quickly you opened your signals and heard voice messages come through.

“Y/N! Please! You need to come back to the Luofu right now! It’s Jing Yuan! He’s- he’s been in critical condition since this evening!” 

“Please! Fu Xuan is panicking and it’s throwing me off… I- I don’t know what to do! Please…”

“He’s finally okay! He’s in a stable condition… it’s been hours! Please tell me you’re okay, Y/N! He’s been asking for you… Please return to the Luofu…” 

You didn’t dare open your father’s one. It was staring at you as if cornering you . Ready to eat you alive. 

“Y/N. You should return.” Your mother said beside your doorframe. She had heard everything and wanted to make sure you were okay. 

“I- but…?” You started, only to be met with your mother’s questioning gaze. You knew you should go visit your brother and father, Yanqing was worried and your father could have died. You had to see him. 

“Okay…” you couldn’t help but worry.

The air was different on the Luofu than your mother’s planet. It was crisp, almost as if there was electricity in the air, waiting to strike at any moment. 

As you made your way down the streets to your home, you felt a familiar presence and turned around to see Yanqing running at you full speed, nearly knocking you down ass first onto the pavement. 

“Y/NNN!!!!!” He nearly sobbed. It was endearing and a little too tight of a hug, but you reciprocated.

“Hey there, Yanqing! I’ve missed you.” You felt your eyes tear up. You had truly missed your brother and wanted him to be safe.

“I’ve missed you too. I really hope you’re happy. But..! Please- Jing Yuan- he’s been so tired and I’ve never seen him this restless. You have to go see him.” The boy stopped hugging you to stare at you with complete sadness. 

You felt as if your body was in fight or flight, wanting to drop kick your brother and run for the hills of your mothers home planet. But that would be uncivilised and you’d feel bad later.

“Okay…” you agreed with apprehension.

You had entered your father’s house. Everything was the same way it was when you left. The same colours, same tapestries, even the same stupid old vase you hated and wanted to break on multiple occasions at the ugliness of it. You truly didn’t miss this place one bit but at the same time missed all the memories and the unfulfilled promises. 

As you walked the final step of stairs and walked to the end of the hall, you were met with the door of your father’s bedroom. He had shared it once with your mother and you nearly sobbed at the sight of it. Last time you had been in his room was when you had a nightmare and wanted your mother, having snuck into the bed to be with her. 

You quickly pulled off the bandaid. Knocking softly three times and rethinking doing it again having garnered no reply.

Just as you brought your hand up to knock again, a hoarse voice spoke out. “Come in.”

You felt your stomach do summersaults and wanted to evaporate into thin air. But you had to pull the bandaid off completely, no? 

You opened the door gently and closed it behind you, walking to your father’s bed and having made eye contact with him half way through your walk. His eyes were glassy and he was in his bed with bandages all over his chest, arms and even one on his neck. You nearly broke into tears.

“Y/N…” he uttered softly. His gaze piercing yet soft. He missed you dearly and wanted to reach out desperately to apologise for how he treated you. But you weren’t here to hear his excuses.

 “Father…” you couldn’t hold it back and the tears started flowing again. Jing Yuan slowly rose up and took your hand to his chest, pulling your entire body towards him and laying you on his bed, kissing your forehead and holding you tight. You wrapped your arms around him and kept apologising, remembering how you had left without a word and wanting it all to have been a bad dream.

“You’re my child, Y/N. And I should have treated you better. I did not mean to chase you away or make you feel incompetent. I adore you and you are one of the only good things in my life. My life’s purpose.” He whispered into your hair.

“I- I should have been there when you were upset. I am sorry for neglecting you. I wish I had spoken to you more and kept the relationship.” He held you tighter, as if afraid you would disappear any minute.

“I’ve read your diary, Y/N.” You freeze. Oh shit. He started to pet your head and you feel tears blind your vision.

“Father- you weren’t..!” You can’t finish due to the hiccups taking over your body. He only pushes you away to look into your eyes carefully. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. You were never the reason me and your mother didn’t work out. You will forever be my top priority, and I am so sorry you felt otherwise. You are my child- my one true love. I will never stop fighting for you, nor your brother. Please, give me one last chance to prove to you my dear child.” His eyes were glassy and he had extreme eye bags, a curtesy of his non-existent sleep schedule. 

You didn’t know how to reply. Of course he still loved you, even after the lack of communication on his behalf and your insecurities leading up to the emotional turmoil in your relationship. 

“You’re my father. Of course I’ll always give you a second chance..” you whisper against him again.

You had a feeling that everything was going to be okay again.

[chronicdelusionistsart]

Gotham Knights: A Game I Sure Played

I'm a pretty prolific gamer, but I don't often stop to do reviews. Not publicly posted, rambling breakdowns, anyway. But I did have a very interesting experience with Gotham Knights and frankly I think the world needs more people to talk about this game that haven't played the Arkham series to make the comparison since that base is. More than covered. Also, notably, I was forced to play singleplayer because I couldn't in good conscience ask anyone I know to drop full price on this game. Here we go. Spoilers under the cut, obviously.

Part 1, Gameplay: Ohhhh they definitely ran out of money huh

Gotham Knights' gameplay is squarely in what I'd call the hump of compelling mediocrity. It's a solid base but it needed more time and playtesting to cook, imo. The early game is a huge hump to get over, it's really empty of stuff to do until you get through a bit of the story.

I know academically that they lifted large parts of it from the Arkham games, and despite what I'd call Sonic Adventure 2 levels of jank, I actually didn't find it too hard to handle. That might be because I have the brain that unironically likes SA2 jank, because I found myself warming to the controls considerably by the time I'd gotten to the midgame. The most frustrating component is that a lot of the attacks are context sensitive and I blew my cover a lot by accidentally clicking the stealth takedown button 0.001 seconds too late which made it a ranged attack. F

Unambiguous likes: Schmoovement. I liked zipping around rooftops and while the bike kinda hurt my ears I ended up really enjoying the bike courses and just jetting around on it.

I actually really like how each character handles noticeably differently. I suck ass as Jason, mind, but everyone else I felt like I could really get into the groove of it. I particularly enjoyed the stealth elements and I played largely as Tim because he's specced into that. There's something nice about being able to pick the character that complements what you like about the game the most, and I can see how co-op would have been a blast. It holds up in this regard even in singleplayer, though that leads neatly into my next point.

PADDING. Playing singleplayer, this game has SO MUCH PADDING. A big problem with the game is that they often ask you to do busywork before letting you enjoy the next part of the story, and really, the story missions are generally fun and engaging.

I think this is for a variety of reasons - one, it wouldn't be as bad if you were playing co-op and everyone was working together, and two, it looks to me like they ran out of money to do side missions. Like, there are only three side cases and it really feels in my heart of hearts like a lot of the game's problems would have been solved by adding like, double that many. It would have eased the grind on random crimes a lot and allowed a much more natural advancement curve. I don't blame the devs for this, though. I think it's clear this was a funding issue. They just needed more money to make more game and had to settle.

As it is, random crimes seems to serve only to feed into my least favourite part of the game: the fucking crafting…

Part 1.5, The Crafting system: Gameplay Loops need to be fun

This is the only part of the game I'll call outright Bad. While not all the advancement in the game is bad (The ability trees are AWESOME and I visibly whooped when I unlocked some of those options), the crafting system is both necessary to keep up with enemy healthbars and also really really boring.

Let me clarify something about what I meant about padding: The primary gameplay loop for this game is that you beat people up, get clues for premediated crimes to stop, you go to those crimes, you get crafting rewards, you craft better gear, and then this equips you to maybe take on the next part of the story.

IN THEORY, this sounds good. It is a classic complete gameplay loop - crafting makes it easier to take on new crimes, new crimes give you more crafting, and it all pays off in the Big Cool Missions. Except that the results of crafting are… boring. The only - and I mean the ONLY meaningful non-aesthetic choices you'll be making while selecting what to craft are "is the number big" and "what element do I want, and do I want it more than big number".

It's really noticeable when put next to the ability trees. It's just… bad! This element of the game could have stood to benefit from more meaningful gear customization a LOT. Off the top of my head, making mod chips the things that decided what elemental damage you do and having a better system there might have done a lot of heavy lifting. Things for future modders to think about, maybe.

This is one of those things that just needed more time and budget to cook. I think they did it this way to cover the gaping hole where the extra content was supposed to be, and to their credit, some of it's cool. Like…

Part 2, Music and Visual Design:

THOSE FUCKING SUITS ROCK!!!! Sorry Jason you didn't get many bangers but YEEEEAHHH!!! ART!!! I have nothing but praise for 99% of this game's visual design. Aside from Jason and Tim's ugly ugly buzzcuts which are really a personal preference, they knocked it out of the park. The character designs, the environmental designs, the setpieces (holy shit man the Mr. Freeze giant-ass blizzard tho), all of them are super polished and super tight. I can't think of a single miss that isn't a Me Problem.

I really like how Gotham looks. It's got such a range of architectural styles and it has so many little homages to the comics and little details and it's just so fun to look at. My friend who was watching me play also commented that they like the light and dark ratios that make Gotham seem dark but still allow you to see what the fuck is going on, always a plus. The way they use colour in the landscape is really neat and allows you to recognize important buildings, which are of course intimately connected to Batman lore. Soooooo cooool.

The music is serviceable, and I don't think that's a bad thing. Very few tracks stood out to me, but I felt the score carried the right emotions and sold the right moments. There are some memorable uses of rock songs, particularly during the prison riot.

My one nitpick on the environmental design is that because the game was intended to be co-op, I think they didn't go much in for mook chatter. Rooftops feel empty and silent. I want a radio station or one of these podcasts that Tim is subscribed to to listen to as I zip around, it would make a huge difference.

Part 3, The Goddamn Writing: This is why I stuck it out

This is why I played the game. I'm someone who really is a sucker for character writing and I love the characters and the premise here.

Short of it: Good.

Long of it: Everyone in the batfam is good here. They all have their own arcs and they all have complex interpersonal relationships and their own opinions and comments and quips on what's going on.

No, these versions of the characters are not accurate to comics. I see people complaining about that all the time. But they aren't bogged down by fifty years of continuity and retcons, and in this bottled narrative, in this self contained timeline, they're allowed to have a run where a version of them get to be a family. A REAL family, too, not bogged down by soap operaisms to sell books with shock value or ruined by the next writer that comes along that wants to fridge someone or has a hateboner for Dick. I'm not exaggerating when I call their interactions siblinglike in a sometimes painfully real way, or when I say that this is the best execution I've seen of the Jason-returns-to-the-fold premise.

The comics aren't bad, but there is value to giving characters new reinterpretations in adaptations. I particularly like adaptations for this reason!

Also of note is that the game is FUNNY. They know when not to be funny, but the writers have a lot of funny character based humour. Their banter and sometimes their one-liners (Robin's "WHY???" at Harley hitting some of her own guys through a door lives rent free in my head now) are incredibly memorable and charming. This is something they have over Batman himself, who's often a bit wooden.

The main story, which I would usually have started with, is more of a vehicle for the character stuff, and it does its job well. It's not super remarkable on its own, but it does have its moments. I think I enjoyed getting mad at the Court of Owls being huge losers with their fuckass Zelda puzzles more than I enjoyed the mystery of it. Seriously, fuck these guys. They were the right choice for the game's bait and switch antagonists, with Talia more saliently playing off of themes of what it can do to you to refuse to move on or grieve and let go and bringing the story to a thematically satisfying conclusion.

Oh yeah, one more thing.

I give the game a HUGE thumbs up of respect for keeping Batman dead in the end. Batman media has a tendency to never let go of Bruce Wayne, but this one was brave enough to make it about grieving him and his ripple effect on the people he knew after his death. I feel it would have undercut the narrative a lot to have him be permanently back, and the writers didn't flinch in doing what needed to be done here while still making his metaphorical ghost a major character.

The game's about grief and growth and moving on. And it does it pretty well.

Also, they going to Pride. YEEHAW-

Part Final, Should I Play This Game?: Depends. Man I guess I spoiled the whole thing though huh

Sooooo I'd call this, again, right in the hump of compelling mediocrity for me overall (Which is to say I'll never ever forget it and it will consume me). The gameplay problems hold back a really well written game a LOT and I can't in good conscience recommend the grind. But I enjoyed it, even though it annoyed me a lot. I really REALLY held on for the character writing but I can't say I didn't enjoy being a cool stealth guy.

I think if you don't mind beating guys up a lot and like the grappling hook life, or if you have friends to play it with and it's on sale, or if it's on sale in general… yeah, maybe pick it up. If you're only here for the story, maybe pick it up on sale if you want to support it and watch cutscene compilations or someone else's commentless playthrough???

I think it's a flawed game that some people will love anyway and that it's really a shame didn't get the budget it needed, and I hope that down the line some mods come out that smooth out its issues. But Timbern is canon in it so uhhh 10/10! See ya

[colonthreedotexe]

my greatest weakness in life is that sometimes i do genuinely like media that is just absolutely mediocre, not even like "so good it's bad" just something that isn't quite good but isn't quite bad either

as long as it manages to balance and not be outright bad i will read 8000 pages of "the main character gets progressively stronger: a power fantasy" because it's fun and sometimes i like to read things that let me turn my brain off and relax, also because i am highly susceptible to "aura farming" and "hype moments"

the nice thing though is that even though a lot of this media really doesn't have a lot going for it in the writing department and is just a bunch of tropes duct taped to each other without much thought behind them there is still media analysis that can be done about the cultural influences that lead to those specific tropes being so popular even if the writers never intend for that to be something that is analyzed about "generic action show: a show based on a novel originally aimed at edgy teenagers"

[redjennies]

I really do just fucking hate people who jump on any post where people are talking about art in regards to developing better taste and branching out from the most middle of the road bullshit, especially on posts where OP is clearly speaking from a place of being tongue in cheek about their own tastes, with "ummm have you considered art is subjective actually and there's no such thing as bad art?" like wow, I've never considered that. you caught me. i'm the stock joyless critic you made up in your head who has never had a good time watching or playing something I deemed kind of mediocre or problematic or even outright poorly made. like man, shut the fuck up.

[pegglesai]

Why tell people to kill themselves when you can tell them to, um... step on a chain of legos. Or something.

My "better than a death threat" is to wish someone's favourite game franchise produces less than mediocre releases but not outright bad and watch them agonize over the amount of missed potential it could've had but it just wasn't quite there. Let them obsess over how it could've been great but alas. It was not.

[12thhouse-sun]

43 for intimacy prompts please <3

43. falling asleep with their head in your lap

It's barely been a two months since they've returned to Waterdeep. The first month both Gale and Poppy would either spend their time sleeping like rocks or trying their damndest to keep the other awake for more salacious activities. But finally a routine has begun to form, but finally they can now...relax. They can enjoy their lives, not just survive.

Even when nobody else was with them in their suite at the Elfsong, Withers and Mizora lingered but there was also the din of the tavern's patrons a floor below that one could never escape. But here, in Gale's tower, with a roaring fire in front of them, it is perfectly quiet. Tara snores softly from Gale's right, tightly curled up between him and the arm of the sofa. Poppy and Gale were reading together, separate books but wanting each other's company. Or at least, they both had been at a point.

It felt so good to read for pleasure once more. Gale is one of the biggest fans of diving headfirst into titillating research but he would never scourge the activity that is reading for pleasure. A particularly raunchy and outright bad romance novel sits in one of his hands and enthralls him with it's mediocrity while Poppy's head rests on his lap as she has been nose-deep in an old favorite of hers, Saga of the Dragon Queller--an epic she hated performing but loved to read. Gale looks down to admire his love to find that her enjoyment of the book has become literal, the book lying open on her face as she has fallen asleep. Despite the hand on her side, he had not noticed how her breathing had slowed, how the turning of the pages of the small tome ceased probably almost half an hour ago.

He carefully removes the book from her face and summons a mage hand to place it on a nearby table. Now, he can see her sleeping face, the picture of calm in her slumber. Even upon returning to Waterdeep, she struggled to fall and maintain sleep for many days. And so to see her here, lips parted just so and breathing strong and steady, Gale's heart wells with affection. He brushes a small lock of hair out of her face and just watches, drinking her in. Perhaps I should join her, he thinks. Gale retires his own book and fetches with the same mage hand a small pillow to support his neck, as he settles in to fall asleep between his two best friends--his familiar and his wife.

[youngpeachenthusiast]

this is not directed at anyone specifially and i'm going to say something that"s probably controversial but here i go anyway: you are not a bad person for still liking the harry potter franchise.

actually, i do not believe that you are a bad person, full stop. but that's a conversation for another day.

while it is actually horrible to support jkr and engage with her content in any way that gets her money (it is! no pretending it isn't), i think that no one should care about whether someone still enjoys the story. sure, jkr's fucked up worldviews are everywhere in it, and that certainly does ruin it to some degree (to me, at least), but you are still allowed to have your good memories and cherish the great times that you had thanks to the story.

i'm saying this as someone whose favorite pastime after jrk came out as... wildly problematic became breaking down every little problematic detail of the whole storyline. after the hp franchise basically made up most of my childhood.

is the story mediocre? the worldbuilding lacking? is it full of outright discriminatory narration and stances? yeah. should any adult with a high school degree have the literacy necessary to recognize this? yeah.

was it still incredibly important to lots of people (especially those who were often singled out and ostracized? looking at you and me, queer kids)? also yeah.

lots of literature and art of all kinds that people still engage with and love to this day is wildly problematic. made by problematic people. it is possible to enjoy a work of art critically.

what one can and should do, is not support the artist. but what harm does one do when enjoying something that is special to them? please leave people alone. i myself can't enjoy the story anymore at this point, but really. there's bigger problems in the real world. can we please use our energy in a better way? why is this discourse so rampant that i'm ranting about it on tumblr, where two people tops will read the post????

i feel like people should be allowed to like things sensibly. i... don't really have the energy to think about this stuff and believe that so many people are evil for enjoying something that meant the world to them in childhood. honest to god .