#but maybe i'm just complicating it in my head

[embervoices]

How can we define the difference between "privacy" and "secrecy" in a way that children understand?

I saw a post go by yesterday that I don't want to dig up because there was a lot there, and I walked away thinking "That's not quite right, but can I articulate why?"

One of the things it said was to define, for children, that an okay secret is limited in time, and makes people happy. A not-okay secret is forever and makes people unhappy. I get that the idea isn't that this is the real line forever, so much as this is the line children need. Okay... now how do we define "privacy" within that scope? Are we promising children that adults never do anything in privacy that's a secret?? Because that's fucked up.

Also, there was a suggested rule about individual adults never being behind closed doors with a child alone, and I'm like "Have you never heard of single parents? Babysitters?" If you think the line is "approved adults" then you're missing that most abuse does come from adults the other adults thought were approved. Maybe it does take a village, but not every household has a village handy, eh?

I don't know. 90% of what was said in that post about how to help kids be prepared to speak up if they're abused was great - I 1000% agree age-appropriate, technically accurate sex ed should be started early and revisited often. If a kid is old enough to ask, they are old enough to receive an accurate answer in terms they can understand without euphemism and hedging.

But some of it seemed really off, and I'm still wrapping my head around how so...

I know some of it is... I was taught from a fairly young age that some kinds of secrets exist to keep others safe. The example - which made sense in context, I swear - was if a Nazi shows up at the door asking if I know where my Jewish friend is, I can and should absolutely lie about that, to keep their secret and keep my friend safe.

Now, that's... probably kind of an odd way of thinking about things for small children, I'll grant you. My parents were clarifying an otherwise hard stance on lying, specifically, and I appreciate that.

If we're talking about very small children, Nazis are perhaps a bit too complicated a concept to explain, but Stranger Danger isn't especially useful as the line when the call is coming from inside the house, so to speak.

Having a hard line on the idea that kids shouldn't have or expect any kind of privacy because secrets are bad is obviously too simplistic, and the post did acknowledge that by addressing the concept of boundaries for the adults having privacy without the kids in the room, which makes sense as far as it goes but doesn't address the children themselves being allowed privacy.

Children aren't stupid, they're just young. Ethics aren't simple, but we do need to keep things usefully clear. So... what do?

[nicolejones412]

Out of Sync Part 2

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: You've found yourself with the 107th fighting Hydra, where you meet a handsome Sergeant. But something just isn't right.

A/N: It honestly feels so good to be back, and actually feel confident enough in being back that I can set up a bit of mystery for you...

Read Part 1 here.

FIC:

"So, what's your name?"

"My name?" You turned your drink in your hands.

"Well I'm assuming Grace is your last name and now that we're on first name basis-"

"Buchannan is your middle name."

"Touche buuuut it is what I go by, so my point still stands."

"It's Charlotte."

"Charlotte Grace?"

"Yeah I know, two first names."

"No, no I like it. Sounds like a movie star's name."

You chuckled. "It does not."

"It does, and you got the looks for it too. I mean it. You could on the silver screen."

You shook your head and took a sip of your drink.

"So, at risk of derailing this whole thing, I ask my first question again. What's a beautiful woman like you doing out here?"

You thought for a moment. You'd been asked that a lot of times, but never so sincerely. For the first time you felt the urge to give an honest answer.

"I don't know. I...I just wanted to make a difference. I impressed Dr. Erskine enough to get a seat at the table, so the SSR felt like the best option I had."

"Erskine...the guy who made the...the..."

"The serum?"

"Yeah the serum that made Steve...." He motioned with is hands as he looked over at the captain.

"A specimen?"

"Yeah a - wait." He turned back to you, and you almost spit out your drink at the look on his face. He shook his head.

"I mean am I wrong?"

"No, no you're not. It's just-" He shook his head.

"I still look for Steve. Like how he always was. It'll definitely take some getting used to that's for sure."

You nodded. "That only makes sense. Change can be...scary. Off-putting."

"He is still Steve though, that's for sure."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, only Steve Rogers would be stupid enough to run into that Hydra base alone without a true exit strategy."

"And he said you were taking all the stupid with you."

Bucky laughed. "I know right! Did he tell you that story?"

You laughed along, thinking. When had you heard that story? "He must have, I guess. The past few months have been a blur."

"Ain't that the truth."

You both paused for a moment, simultaneously reflecting on the past and thinking about the future.

"So, Charlie..."

"Charlie?"

"Charlotte is a bit of a mouthful alright?"

"It's the same number of syllables."

"Still, Charlie." He looked at you pointedly to see if you would object. You just rolled your eyes and tried to hide your smile as you took a drink.

"How about we make a habit of this?"

"Of what?" Your heart pounded in your chest. You couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to happen. Maybe something bad.

Or maybe something good.

He shrugged. "Of spending time together? As friends-colleagues, of course."

"Oh yes we wouldn't want to get that confused."

"Yeah, no need for anything complicated, just, I don't know I've had a great time tonight and you would've been just sitting at your desk being boring if I hadn't-hey!" He half-heartedly protested as you shoved him.

"Alright then, Bucky. Let's be friends."

What could possibly go wrong?

-

You fell into a comfortable routine. With the SSR sticking with Captain America's Howling Commandos, you saw each other more days than not. You and Steve became good friends as well.

You were still at war though, and every time they went on a mission, you worried. You tried to tell yourself it was normal, but you knew it wasn't.

But you never felt relief when they inevitably rolled back into camp. Almost like, as much as you worried, you knew they would be back. Like it had been foolish to worry.

Weeks turned to months, until one day as they left the worry was greater than normal. You just couldn't shake that something was wrong, so you poured over every briefing and map you could get your hands on. It clicked not even 3 hours after they'd left.

"It's a trap."

"Pardon?" Peggy looked up, yawning.

You looked up at her, and before you knew what you were doing, your feet carried you to your tent to gear up before finding a vehicle.

"Charlotte! What is going on?" Peggy asked as she followed you into your shared tent.

"I have to warn them. It's a trap."

"Slow down." You weren't even looking at her, just packing everything like it was muscle memory.

"How do you know it's a trap? And why does it have to be you?"

"I don't have time to explain, and...I don't know. I can move quicker and quieter on my own and hopefully catch up to them."

When she didn't reply, you finally looked up at her. She had a knowing look on her face.

"You can't stop me."

"Oh I know. And I'll try to cover for you as best as I can. Just...don't die, alright?"

You began tucking your hair up into a tight braided bun. "You're really not gonna try to talk me out of this insane plan?"

"It would be a waste of breath. Just know I expect an invitation to the wedding."

You quickly turned back to her. "Wedding? What do you-?"

"Listen I won't argue this plan with you but don't argue the clear facts with me. I see how you look at him."

The fact that you didn't even have to question who she was talking told both of you all you needed to know.

You finished getting dressed and packing before hugging Peggy.

"Stay safe," she urged.

"I'll do my best."

-

Ok, maybe safe wasn't the right word.

You tore through the woods, not able to waste any time. You knew the exact route they were supposed to be taking, and frankly it would take a miracle for you to catch up in time, but you had to try.

You were beating yourself up the whole way. You'd known something was wrong, but they all assured you this should be a simple grab and go to catch a couple Hydra scientists.

It was too good to be true.

You found their vehicle exactly where it should be, without any of them in it.

You jumped off your bike. You knew the basic plan from here, and you just hoped they hadn't had to change it much.

You took off running for where you knew Bucky was supposed to be, trying to balance speed and stealth.

You silently thanked whoever was listening that it didn't look like the trap had been sprung yet as you arrived at the site.

Before you reached anyone else, you ran into Falsworth.

"What are you doing here?" he whispered.

"It's a trap. The scientists aren't even here. We've got to get out of here."

Thankfully, he didn't argue much. He pointed you in the direction Bucky had gone.

You crept up to Bucky's position, finally seeing the back of his head.

Just in time to watch a bullet go through it.

And as shouting and explosions rang out, your heart was pounding.

I was too late.

Too late.

You felt a tug in your chest as you shook your head and closed your eyes, and suddenly the chaos stopped. You opened your eyes.

You were standing ten feet back from where you had been, and you could see Bucky where he'd been sitting before, you watched his head move.

You froze, before looking around you wildly for the gunman.

Your eyes found him as he raised his weapon, trained on Bucky.

Too bad for him you were quicker.

This shot was much quieter than the enemy's would have been. A suppressor does tend to help with that. But Bucky knew that sound, as well as the sound of a body hitting the ground.

He shot up, turning both his eyes and weapon to you.

"Charlie?" he whispered as his eyes widened.

"It's a trap," you blurted out, face white as a sheet. "He was going to shoot you as the signal to spring it. We don't have much time."

"How did you-?"

"No time for questions. Need to signal them and find an escape route. Now."

Bucky nodded before turning back to look through his sites. You pulled out a pair of binoculars.

Your eyes found Steve.

Get out. Get out. It's a trap. Retreat.

Steve looked around like he'd heard something, then his eyes landed on something.

That's it. Come on, it's time to go.

He shook his head, then made eye contact with someone and made a signal with his hands.

"Steve must agree with you." You turned to him.

"He just signaled a retreat."

-

A/N: Why is your name Charlotte? Is it Charlotte? Are you lying? If your name is actually Charlotte pretend I wrote Sharon and he calls you Sherry ok I don't know what else to tell you.

[phoebe-delia]

Mid-Story Lines

I was tagged by my love @greattemptation in this game! (check hers out here). Here's a list of mid-story lines from 10 of my fics, all published. (I know others have done WIPs but I'm just doing published stuff bc the only WIP I have rn is for an anon fest.) I'm tagging some greats here; sorry if yall have already done it and I didn't see: @getawayfox @beloved-child-of-the-house @academicdisasterfic @moonflower-rose

(Because I'm nothing if not self-indulgent, I included a little commentary about each of the fics below. Also, to absolutely no one's shock, I'm starting with my favorite child, TIMT. )

this is me trying

“Why?” Malfoy said, his voice breathy but forceful. “Why me? Why aren’t you turning to Granger or Weasley or Longbottom or…literally anyone else?”

“I don’t know,” Harry nearly whispered. “I didn’t mean to go looking for you, the first day I went to the diner. I really was just stopping in for food. But then I saw you, working and trying and getting along with Muggles, and I just,” he swallowed around a lump in his throat. “I think that maybe if I talked to you I could see how you did it.”

“How I did what?”

Harry drew in a lungful of air and expelled it in a drawn-out breath. "Figured out the difference between who you were supposed to be, and who you really are.”

Just Take Me Home

Beep....Beep....Beep....Beep...

That damned smoke detector's out of batteries, was Harry's first semi-conscious thought. Then his next one made his eyes snap open. I don't have a smoke detector.

I Could Never Rescue You

I fell asleep, tossing and turning alone in bed, and now I wake to find you next to me. The sight is usually a comfort, but now it only fills me with irritation. You must have arrived home late without a word.

Again.

Speak Now

Knowing you’ll never see this, combined with the firewhiskey’s satisfying burn in my throat to lubricate my thoughts, I feel safe in admitting that you are glorious in a duel. You look so determined, so powerful, and yet so controlled and deliberate. Your eyes gleam and you exude strength and Merlin if it isn’t beautiful. The only benefit to being your one-time enemy was getting to see you like that, being one of the few people to experience the force that is Harry Potter.

Just Between Us

Draco shook his head. “How you’ve lasted through years of Ministry galas without humiliation is beyond me.”

“Easy. I don’t dance.”

“Why?”

Harry shrugged. “I never learned.”

Draco stepped forward. “I can teach you, if you want.”

Little Red

“So which poor sods are you assigning to the case?” Ron said with a smirk.

Kingsley pressed his lips together and said nothing, looking at the two of them with sympathy.    

Harry’s face fell. “You can’t be serious.”

I'm Beginning to See the Light (an Eight Drarry Nights Story)

Draco holds up a hand. “Potter. It’s fine. You’re right. Let’s go to the Muggle store.”

Harry blinks. Then tries, and fails, to suppress his smile. “What was that? I didn’t quite hear.”

Draco rolls his eyes. “I’m not saying it again.” He walks out of the room and calls over his shoulder, “But nice try!”

The Door

“Harry, darling, I’m with Father and he’s having trouble coming to terms with our relationship. Do you mind saying a quick ‘Hello’ to prove to him that I’m not trying to shock him into an early death just so I can take the piss?”

Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince

“It’s Harry.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t know it was that complicated—”

Potter laughed again. “The situation isn’t hairy, you dolt. Call me Harry.”

Call It What You Want

Potter let out a laugh. “Okay, well just put your food here on this turntable,” he pressed something that made the little door pop open, and Draco jumped slightly. “Then you just press the buttons to tell it how long you want it to cook, press the “start” button and then it’ll go until it’s finished.”

Draco nodded. “That makes sense.”

Potter’s eyes lit up. “It does?”

“Yes, I understand.” 

 “Great!”

“Just one question.”

“Go ahead.”

“What’s a button?”

Okay I included my commentary that no one asked for.

TIMT: My favorite child, as I said. appears on just about every list I make of my fics, if I can help it.

JTMH: Of all the things I've written, this is one of the ones that has made me laugh the most.

ICNRY: Maybe one of my favorite things I've written in a long time, despite being wildly different from my usual. Mind the tags!!!

Speak Now: Epistolary fics are the FUNNEST and I loved writing Draco here.

Just Between Us: Oh my godddd the stress of writing this fic. It paid off, I think (hope), but I put way too much pressure on myself.

Little Red: Again, very different from my norm. I'm proud of it for that reason, but I feel I could write it soooo much better now.

IBTSTL: This was my first real WIP that I updated regularly, and it was so much fun to have regular commenters and get people's feedback in real time!

The Door: One of my first fics. Not my typical fic but it was a great way to explore Draco, especially as a new writer.

MAATHP: The first fic to stress me out lol. For my Swifties, this came out more than a year before "The Great War," or else this would've absolutely been the fic for Midnights.

CIWYW: Another early idea. The "What's a button" part still makes me laugh.

[misssassylover]

꧁𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭꧂

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You return to Matt’s house, where unresolved feelings surface as you confront the truth about your broken relationship. Through quiet tension and flashbacks, you both realize that love isn’t enough to fix what’s already gone. Despite still caring, you walks away. Knowing it just won’t work.

I left you here

Heard you keep the extra closet empty

In case this year

I come back and stay throughout my twenties

What if I won't?

How am I supposed to put that gently?

And down the road

You will love me until you resent me

Mm, mm, mm

You don’t knock. You still have the key. Matt never asked for it back.

The front door sighs open and closes behind you, the silence thick like dust in the air. The house is mostly the same, the faint citrus-and-vinyl scent, the old record player in the corner, his favorite sneakers kicked lazily by the couch. But the closet. Your old closet, gapes open like a mouth.

Empty. Still.

Your fingers hover near the wooden frame. You could ask him why. But you already know. You used to joke about coming back, maybe after college, maybe when you “figured it all out.” You said you’d stay through your twenties, just like that, lighthearted, with your head on his chest. He took you seriously. Maybe too seriously.

He walks out from the kitchen. Still barefoot. Still in that gray hoodie with the fraying cuff you always used to tug at. When he sees you, his mouth parts slightly, but he doesn’t speak.

Your eyes flick to the closet, then back to him.

“What if I don’t come back?” you say.

He blinks. His arms cross, slow and guarded. “Is that a question or an answer?”

You shrug. “Both.”

And in the quiet, you see it. He wants to believe that someday you’ll return. But that belief is a weight. One day, it’ll break his spine. You can already see the fracture lines in his posture.

“I’d love you down the road,” he says. “Even if I’d hate you for leaving.”

The words should sting. But they don’t surprise you.

I've had the thought

Tried to work it out through anxious pacing

What if I'm not

Worth the time and breath I know you're saving?

But it's a lot

All the shine of half a decade fading

The whole facade

Seemed to fall apart, it's complicated

Mm, mm, hmm-mm

You remember that night you found him pacing.

It was three weeks before the end. He was backlit by the city lights, jaw tight, hands stuffed into his hair like he could pull the thoughts out one by one. You had asked him what was wrong, and he said nothing. You’d known better.

“I just…” he started, but couldn’t finish.

“What if I’m not worth it?” you had blurted. “What if this whole thing… what if it fades and we’re just holding on to something that isn’t even real anymore?”

He had looked at you then, eyes wide, betrayed.

And still, he didn’t answer.

Now, back at the house, you catch his hand tracing that same nervous path across his scalp. A gesture from the past echoing in the present.

Half a decade. That’s how long it’s been, give or take. And the shine of it. Every movie date, every late-night 7-Eleven run, every “I love you” whispered into the folds of his hoodie is dim now. Not gone. But dulled.

He walks toward the couch and sits, not inviting you, not pushing you away. His voice, when he speaks, is raw.

“I didn’t think we were fake,” he says.

You sit, finally. “We weren’t. But that doesn’t mean we’re still… it.”

The clock ticks louder than it should.

And part of me wants to walk away 'til you really listen

I hate to look at your face and know that we're feeling different

'Cause part of me wants you back, but

I know it won't work like that, huh?

Your foot taps restlessly on the hardwood floor. Matt’s staring at his palms now, as if the answers are carved there.

You speak first. “Do you ever wonder if you only hear what you want to?”

His brow furrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” you say slowly, “you’re still waiting for me to change my mind.”

He lifts his eyes to yours. Blue, glassy, worn. The kind of stare that makes you want to say something you’ll regret. Because even now, even after all the unraveling, there’s still a piece of you that wants to reach across the space and hold him again.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admits. “You’re here, and it feels like… like I could fix it.”

“And part of me wants that too,” you say, voice cracking. “But it won’t work like that.”

You both sit in the silence of half-spoken desires, too aware that this kind of love isn’t enough anymore.

Why won't you try moving on for once? That might make it easy

I know we cut all the ties but you're never really leaving

And part of me wants you back, but

I know it won't work like that, huh?

He looks at you like you’re asking him to forget how to breathe.

“You say that like it’s simple,” he whispers. “Like I didn’t try.”

“But you didn’t,” you say, not cruel, just tired. “You kept my pictures up. You kept my name in your phone like nothing changed.”

“I couldn’t…” he starts.

“You didn’t want to,” you correct.

The truth sinks in like cold water. He’s clung to the idea of you so tightly, there’s no room for anything else in his life. Not healing. Not someone new. Not even himself.

You want to scream. You want to shake him by the shoulders until he understands that love shouldn’t look like limbo.

“Cutting ties means more than deleting messages, Matt. It means letting go.”

He stares at you like you’re walking out all over again. Maybe you are.

And still, still there’s that part of you. That foolish, nostalgic part that wants to rewind. But you crush it.

Because you know.

It won’t work like that.

I'll open up

I'm thinking everything you wish I wasn't

The call was tough

But you're better off, I'm being honest

So won't you stop

Holding out for me when I don't want it?

Just brush me off

'Cause I'm your ghost right now, your house is haunted

You lean forward, elbows on knees, and say the thing you’ve been avoiding.

“I’m not the version of me you fell for anymore.”

Matt doesn’t speak. You press on, braver now.

“I’ve changed. I want different things. I don’t fit into this anymore. This life, this future you’ve frozen around us.”

His breath hitches, but he stays still.

“And I think… you’re better off without someone who can’t give you what you want.”

Your words hang between you, brittle and sharp.

“You were everything,” he murmurs. “But I don’t know how to forget you.”

You close your eyes. “Then stop holding out for me. Please.”

He looks at you like you’ve died. Maybe part of you has.

Outside, a car door slams, and for a moment the noise feels too loud, too real. You’re both ghosts of what you used to be.

This place is haunted.

And part of me wants to walk away 'til you really listen

I hate to look at your face and know that we're feeling different

'Cause part of me wants you back, but

I know it won't work like that, huh?

You stand.

Matt’s eyes follow you like he’s memorizing your shape, afraid you’ll vanish entirely this time.

“I can’t keep doing this,” you say. “Showing up, pretending maybe we’ll find the magic again.”

He nods. Just once. Slow.

You move toward the door. Your steps feel like betrayal. His silence feels like acceptance. Maybe it is. Maybe that’s progress.

But as your fingers close around the doorknob, your heart jerks.

“Part of me still loves you,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper. “But love isn’t always enough.”

You look back once. Just once.

He’s still sitting on the couch, shoulders hunched, hands limp in his lap. He doesn’t call out. Doesn’t beg.

That silence hurts more than any goodbye.

Why won't you try moving on for once? That might make it easy

I know we cut all the ties but you're never really leaving

And part of me wants you back, but

I know it won't work like that, huh?

Weeks later, Nick mentions that Matt finally deleted your photos from Instagram.

You pretend it doesn’t twist something inside you.

It’s raining when you pass the corner where you had your first kiss. Awkward, perfect, seventeen. And it hits you. He’s trying. Finally. And so are you.

You still feel him, sometimes. When you put on that hoodie you forgot he left behind. When your phone autocorrects “maybe” to “Matt” because it used to do that every time.

But you don’t go back. Neither does he.

There’s no grand closure. No cinematic montage.

Just two people, learning to let go of something beautiful because it wasn’t right anymore.

And part of you still wants him back.

But you know…

It won’t work like that.

[emsprovisions]

Boy did I mean it when I said maybe this is controversial! I really do genuinely appreciate everyone's takes on this discussion though! Ultimately the view I have of Carlos with his father's ring stems from my own view of Carlos as a character in relation to my understanding of our shared culture and my own complicated relationship with family.

I 100% understand why Carlos wears Gabriel's ring, and can see it as an extension of Carlos tying himself to something bigger than himself, just like his crucifix. There is a lot of value in the things our parents leave behind for us, no matter where you come from, and for Carlos, it absolutely is also a comfort to have a piece of his dad. I'm not denying that there's significance in it for him that's tied to culture, I'm also not denying that the ring itself has significance in Mexican culture–I am Mexican myself–but also knowing Carlos, he wears his father's ring because he thinks that removing it would mean losing Gabriel completely, once and for all.

Carlos spends so much of his time after his father dies being the dutiful son–not without reason, I don't think he's wrong to care so much about solving his dad's murder, or to be the only one to voice the systemic racism involved in Gabriel becoming such a non-priority–that I think he forgets to be himself. Putting the ring away, even for an episode, would mean to me that Carlos has found an inner peace and resolution in himself.

A lot of Carlos's arc with his father was learning how to combat generational trauma. Gabriel is a man that is all machismo, and anything less than that isn't man enough, his growth came in accepting his son. And maybe Carlos being gay wasn't the big issue to his parents he thought it was, but the reason why they didn't talk about important things stems from our culture too. Carlos was always seeking his father's acceptance throughout the show, whether it was for his job, or his relationships/identity, or just as he was as a person, he always felt like Gabriel didn't think he was good enough.

I think that if Carlos was shown putting away his father's ring and bringing it out on special occasions he wants to bring Gabriel to, it would still be symbolic. I also think the ring represents the shoes Carlos feels he has to fill. I said in my original tags 'heavy is the head that wears the crown and this ring carries a lot of weight for Carlos.' I still think that's true. Like Carlos's crucifix, the ring stands for what he thinks he should be as a Ranger, a husband, a father, and as Gabriel's son. I don't believe that Carlos would repeat the same cycles of generational trauma with his own family, and maybe he wears it as a reminder to not go down that road, but I also think removing it could symbolize that Carlos has healed and is ready to find himself in this new stage of life as a Carlos who doesn't have his dad, who is a husband, and is about to become a parent.

There's no one right or wrong way to feel about it, but my opinion is that I think Carlos doesn't think the ring is a burden, but a reminder, and that removing it would mean he stops honoring/forgets his father. If you ask me, the Carlos we have by 5x09 absolutely knows his father loves and is proud of him, even in the afterlife. He finds closure with his dad in the best way he can. I just wish he could put the ring away sometimes too.

Maybe this is controversial but has it been long enough to admit I wish Carlos didn’t wear Gabriel’s ring all the time 🫣

[tvrningout-a]

i'm creating a whole frikkin fantasy world with a conflict and everything, lord help me

[irenespring]

Thoughts on Bertha Russell (Many Thoughts)

I am So curious about Bertha Russell's backstory. We have little snippets:

Her father was a potato farmer.

She has lots of mommy issues. (George mentions her mother said she was the only child "worthy of her dreams" to which Bertha angrily responds that her mother's dreams were worthless because she died with nothing which is A Lot)

She has sibling issues. (George offers to invite her sister to a thing and she refuses)

She and George met when they were both poor, they made the fortune together.

She had a distinct learning curve when they first got to New York. She bought The Wrong House and made The Wrong Friends and had to learn and relearn things over a period of years. (I am especially interested about this time, because she would know Nothing, being the ultimate outsider, but she is a tactical genius and viciously ambitious...I want to see young!Bertha in the early stages of the struggle before she knows how to dress/talk/act).

I hope we will learn more about her because more than any of the other characters she wants things. Things that are nebulous, but she doesn't seem to realize are nebulous, because she has clear goals but they don't satisfy her so she has to make another goal. Loving husband doing well? Not enough. They have enough money to hear the call of the guillotine? It's not enough, they need status. They have status? Not enough, they need to beat Lina Astor. Now they've beaten Lina Astor, but I don't think anyone thinks that's going to be enough. George points out multiple times that he is content where he is and content to let their children marry for love to people of what Bertha considers middling station. She's the sole driving force for continued social climbing. And it doesn't matter how high they get, she wants to go higher, she wants to go "all the way" but there isn't an all the way unless I guess you're Empress of the World. But then the moon starts looking awfully conquerable.

She claims she's doing it for their children, but both children have said her suggestions aren't what they want. And it is heavily implied she just sold her only daughter to the Duke so he would attend an opera performance. She wants Gladys to marry the Duke so that she will be grandmother to English nobility. It's for her. So she is willing to use her children, her alleged motivation, as pawns. They aren't her real motivation after all, even if she may think they are. I do think she loves her children and George. I also think that she thinks she's helping Gladys, but I also think there's a limit to that love because it exists beside the yawning void of hunger within her psyche. George outright asks her if his love for her is enough to make her happy early in s1, because her love is enough for him. She says it's "almost enough" and that's significant and enough for him, which is telling, when usually any answer other than "yes of course" would be taken by a love interest as a searing betrayal. Anyway, the point is, her kids/her family are, at least, not her entire motivation and might not factor into her motivation at all, if she is fully honest with herself.

So, the hunger. The call to Rise. The rage that has her hyperventilating in bed alone after her failed party instead of crying in her husband's arms like most television characters would do. The instinct to look upon a room of people and think you will all bow to me you sniveling mortals. Why is it there? Like...why is she Like This? I think some of it has to come from what we can learn just from George's comment about impossibly ambitious, ruthless, low empathy Bertha being the only one "worthy of her mother's dreams." Which means her mother had dreams that were very important to her and that she never achieved. Her mother also guarded said dreams and judged her children harshly, we know Bertha has at least one sister, who is apparently judged not worthy in the eyes of her own mother. We know Bertha does not like talking about this and tries to dismiss it. Was there pressure on Bertha to be worthy? When could that have started and how did it manifest? Circling back to my interest in young!Bertha in NY, if the social rejection was bad in s1, it was probably worse then, and constant social failures would have made her angrier and more determined to both to become the queen of New York society and to see it burn. This is all stuff I want to learn more about in season 3.

HERE IS WHERE I PRETTY MUCH JUST DO PREDICTIONS (WHICH MAY BE TINFOIL, IDK):

Because I think we will finally get to see Bertha Russell: Season Villain. Every season needs a villain, and Bertha has pretty much vanquished all of them. The first couple seasons the overarching villain has been New York Society with its inequalities and pointless social cruelty, if that holds, Bertha is now the head of that system, having beaten Lina Astor and set herself up as the queen. Additionally, side opponents (not really villains) like Agnes also aren't in a position to make major problems for the protagonists because the Van Rhijn household is now the Forte household and cinnamon roll Ada is now in charge. Unless Agnes attempts to usurp her sister in a subplot (which I don't think will happen except for maybe one episode of hijinx) she's not in a powerful spot. The Society character is indisputably Bertha. And Bertha has been up to some serious villain shit. If she did agree to marry Gladys to the Duke, she's now against All the Protagonists---a sure sign of villain status. She's even against her husband, who swore to back Gladys in her choice of love match, and Gladys doesn't like the Duke. If Gladys wants out, Larry will almost certainly help her. And Saint Marian will help Larry either for love reasons or moral reasons, and hopefully Peggy has better things to do but she will probably get dragged into it somehow and if Marian's involved Ada's also involved and you see where this is going.

Also, show pacing wise, Bertha is due for a loss. I love her and I want her to win everything and be declared Empress of Earth and Moon but realistically that isn't going to happen. In a show where villains lose, it checks out. Gladys isn't going to marry the Duke, and if she does, everyone is going to regret it. One reason I think we will learn more about Bertha and her history is because if she loses she's going to Lose It. Dramatic monologue style. When she had a party and no one came she swore eternal vengeance and spent the night Angry Breathing and presumably fantasizing about the Red Wedding. She doesn't handle losing well. A big public loss after achieving every status symbol she could think of would probably break her mind, and she'll probably tell whoever she's talking to (probably George) enough backstory info that we the audience can fill in stuff. This is also where I would guess she and George would reconcile where he would see she is the person he loves and has not transformed into an automaton, she's just Messed Up, which he always knew and loved so he is Back In.

IN CONCLUSION:

This is who Marina was writing about. She is a primadonna girl, and all she ever wanted was the world. She cannot help that she needs it all, in this case the primadonna life: both the rise and the fall. She also knows exactly what she wants and who she wants to be. This is why she walks and talks like a machine. Unfortunately, she is becoming a self-fulfilled prophecy.

Oh, oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh.

[livemedown]

In relation to that reblog. Boy. Need more stories about characters realizing they're aromatic in the stupidest and most embarrassing ways possible. Need characters I can relate to. Because there sure were some big obvious signs for me growing up that went completely over my little head.

[nellasbookplanet]

Okay I have finally finished watching the c3 finale in its entirety (it's SO LONG you guys) and I know I critique and mayhaps even complain a lot but I love this show. Something magical about seeing the stories and parties of ten years and three campaigns coming together, but also the guests throughout c3 getting their moments at the table, the joy of the cast being palpable (their response to that nat 20 had me sharing their excitement even if I maybe wanted to see a god or two get eaten (looking at you Asmodeus and Lolth)). And like, yeah the plot and ending have their weak points but I was at the absolute edge of my seat for that first half of them working to convince the gods and save Ashton, a huge grin on my face for great chunks of the episode, and I really do like where Bells Hells as characters ended up, as well as the peaks into VM and the m9. And yes I have my reservations about the Vaxleth thing but also the feeling of it all in the cast softens it.

If I had to sum up my feelings on the campaign as a whole, it's a fun ride with a lot of really good bits and very cool & creative characters and super unique lore and wordbuilding and SO MUCH ambition (and I always appreciate ambition over playing it safe), but if you try to think too hard about it it kind of falls apart a little bit. Actual play popcorn entertainment. I've had a good time and hope the rest of you did too. Now: on to exu Divergence!

[nervocat]

Maybe one day I'll be able to see myself and live as “ajax”

[red-moon-at-night]

Thinking about the people going in and out of Helen's life, and who she could reasonably have a bond/connection with that 1) is not romantic in nature, and 2) has been by her side both before the trojan war in Sparta and during it in Troy, and there IS someone.

It's Aethra. Aethra, daughter of King Pittheus, mother of Theseus.

Aethra who first met Helen when she was a child (at oldest, not of marriageable age, and at youngest, 7) after Theseus drops her off on his mother's doorstep to look after until she's old enough (ick). Aethra who ends up being taken back to Sparta as a hostage once Helen's brothers raze the city (either Aphidna or Athens). Aethra who becomes Helen's slave at some point after this (whether immediately or once she's an adult). Aethra who goes with Helen and Paris on the ship to Troy. Aethra who is still by her side after 10 years of war, still alive, who is found by her grandsons Demophon and Acamas. Aethra who is released from the possession of Helen after she gives her consent and accepts the arrangement. Aethra who leaves Troy with her grandsons and finally gets to go home.

Giving it a very rough estimate, they end up being stuck in each other's lives for somewhere between 25 - 40 years... which is quite a long time. Accounting for the fact that Aethra is still very much a) the mother of Helen's kidnapper, and b) Helen's slave, she's still most likely the closest thing Helen has had to a long-term maternal figure in her life.

And she lets her go. After everything, after such a destructive and devastating war and the aftermath of it, Aethra may very well be the only person to whom Helen can grant some happiness in the ashes of Troy.

(I'm not even going to begin to pretend that I have the pre-requisite knowledge to unpack Aethra's position as royalty-to-hostage-to-slave or how she would've been treated. Also the considerations of historical knowledge of slavery in ancient Greece vs. Aethra being a mythological character from thousands of years ago. If anyone does please be my guest and inform me!)

[teh-nos]

loki/william rufus fic, where bill explains that as the second son he has inherited england while big brother bob only got the duchy of normandy, ha ha ha.

[skipperling]

part of me still feels like i might be sort of genderfluid and/or bisexual but just traumatized about it. no idea anymore

[ilkkawhat]

you've heard of anxiety attacks now get ready for guilt attacks

[notmoreflippingelves]

If any of the krisnix fans following me are already DCU fans, I would be very, very curious to pick some of your brains and mine your existing comics knowledge (as my own is very new and somewhat lacking) about a krisnix-centric, Batman-inspired AU.

[maudlin-scribbler]

WHYYY did my mother have kids with my father if she can barely stand his ass (i can't stand him much either) and whenever she's insulting and berating us she finds a way to compare us to him in a negative way. I mean I get that at first he was nice and whatever but MAYBE she should have thought about it more before having me considering she had only known my father for a few months (like. not even a year and she's like "i wanna have a baby!!!")