#feels like we lose a bit of something

[bookwyrminspiration]

not that I expect the graphic novel adaptation to get that far, but I wonder how it would handle the situation with Keefe's family crest in book 2/3. he's given it in book 2, rigged, after he becomes close with sophie. in the graphic novel, he has it from his very first appearance. would they just have gisela rig it later?

it makes enough sense, but we do lose out on some of the betrayal's impact, i think. in the book keefe finally gets a small token of inclusion/acceptance after years, but it turns out to have been a facade all along, and that acknowledgement was simply a means to use him. in the graphic novel, it sucks that it'd get rigged, but the crest has less emotional significance. more like a damn, sucks they used my crest, not a oh my god they, my family, used my ostracization from said family against me and never truly cared

just a curiosity I had

[edwinisms]

you ever think about how edwin got like. no warning, no time time to process, nothing, when he reappeared on earth faced with the fact that virtually everyone he knew in life is dead. his parents? probably died in the 1950s or so (at best) almost forty years prior to edwin’s return. if any of his classmates were still around, they’d have been elderly, possibly senile, and in a few years they’d all be gone– except, of course, edwin. nothing looks the same, cars look like spaceships, there actually are spaceships, he can no longer see the stars, and everyone he knew is dead.

[deoidesign]

Quick re-do of a 4 year old piece

[owl-bones]

I mean, in defense of people who are hesitant about trusting fae dream... he did turn someone into an exotic pet before.

that didn't actually happen, that was just a drabble i developed and people asked for elaboration on sldfjlsfjs. it's technically a non-canon event, it's just on the blog and tagged and all that because it's still a (hypothetical) part of the story and there's some characterisation stuff in there. but the MC wasn't his pet, they were just a bird for the deal to work. he still treated them like a member of his court.

and i get where people are coming from, but if you're hesitant about trusting Dream you should extend that hesitancy to all the fae. especially Nightmare. between the two of them Nightmare is far more likely to trick you into a deal that you don't like, or that causes you to lose something of importance. it's just that nobody's asked about anything like that, so all they've seen is Dream being the poster-child for fae shenanigans lskdfjlsdsljfkd

like. Blue is the 'nicest' fae out of all of them when it comes to avoiding deals and giving humans leeway and helping them out, but that doesn't make Dream the worst (that'd be Killer)

tricks and wordplay are a major part of fae stories, and to ignore them completely to sanitise the characters and make them more approachable is disingenuous. Dream's a nice, friendly guy, yes, but he's still a fae and will trick you. Nightmare is cold and aloof but fair, and he will also trick you. Dream's not the bad guy, there is no bad guy, that is just their nature ദ്ദി ꒦ິ꒳꒦ິ )✧

[mist-the-wannabe-linguist]

Girl help why is a fantasy setting using modern American gender terminology

They could've already bounced off of the existing term aqun-athlok and show the gender culture of the North largely adopting Qunari concepts as part of cultural exchange resulting from the literal hundreds of years of war with the Qun. The only openly transgender characters we know of are from Tevinter anyway! They already wanted to show the Qun in a more positive light in Veilguard, having Thedosian queer culture be primarily influenced by the Qun would be a great way to do exactly that

[wexhappyxfew]

Shannon please put this on a backburner if you're busy (and I mentioned this in the tags of my last reblog) but in your last Benny/Margie fic you said, "she tumbled in, clinging to Major Cleven's jacket" and a protective Buck being the first one Margie sees is a *need* if you've got the inspiration. -- @softspeirs

KATIE!!!!! @softspeirs it has been a minute since you sent this in (much longer than i intended), BUT, i have since written up my interpretation of this little moment. not only do we get a hint at the friendship between margie and buck (!!!!), but we also get some hints of margie x benny in there, too. enough where benny has his freak-out moment (and equally valid moment). this was honestly so much fun to write - from beginning to end. exploring connections i haven't been able to previously, so thank you so much for that!!! i sincerely hope you enjoy my interpretation of buck cleven!! <3333

heard you the first time

(a/n): the 'before piece' of this margie harlowe piece, featuring the friendship of margie and buck, a smidge of margie x benny, and the rest of the crew in the stalag, complete with annie bradshaw and bucky egan as rising stars. by far one of my favorite pieces to write and develop and dig into. a bit of a warning for some heavier topics, as margie is clearly going through a difficult mental battle, along with trauma that she has since experienced and gone through. thank you all for reading! please enjoy! :)

The deceptive nature of a war was something one could easily have as hard of a time getting used to; nearly as much as a simple card trick or removal of a mask.

Dealing with the aftermath of such was something no one was inherently ready for.

The fragile form that was Marjorie Harlowe, stumbling in the main gates of the Stalag was something far from the reality Buck Cleven had hoped to see upon Lieutenant Harlowe turning up - better yet, her turning up alive.

From Buck's position behind the barbed wire fence, the farthest he'd ever felt from a member of the 100th, despite her being just 50 feet away, at the entrance of the gates, had his blood pumping and his worry spiking off the charts.

There was something about that distant look in her eye as she looked around warily, trying to keep herself up on her own two legs, her clothing in the poorest condition he'd seen any of the women come in with, and a look on her face that evidently displayed whatever horror she had been through and had to both see and witness.

Buck had always kept an eye out for Margie Harlowe ever since they crossed paths before heading out for Greenland - a run in near the bar where groups had gathered and news had spread that an all-female B-17 crew was being immersed into the 100th. She was almost like a younger sibling to him and if anything, allowed him to bring out a looser side of himself than normal.

The group that was coming in now looked worse off than the last groups had been - at least they'd been able to confidently stand on two feet and move their limbs. This group looked beat to a pulp, half-stumbling, half-falling just to keep themselves from looking weak in front of the unfamiliar and unknown. The yelling of names around him was nearly going to send him over the edge as he pushed to the front of the group and braced as the barbed wire came in contact with his form. Pressing forward, the crusher cap on his head tilting side ways, he cupped his hands around his mouth.

"Harlowe!" he yelled, his voice sounding more hoarse than it had in recent days, "Harlowe!" Buck was able to watch, through a strained gaze, as Margie managed to pull her head upwards from the ground and get a glimpse in a general direction of the voice. Just at the sight of him it seemed, she collapsed and Buck's heart leapt into his throat.

"Margie!" Buck yelled, his voice causing others around him to snap shut quietly, his eyes turning to the second set of entrance gates.

Immediately, he was pushing through the layers of people pressing themselves earnestly against the wire and wood, desperate for a look to see if a friend had survived, a comrade that had since fallen from the sky just like the rest of them.

Hurriedly looking over his shoulder as he pushed through the crowd of pilots and American men, he could make out one of the German soldiers standing over her, yelling and spitting, harsh German spilling down upon her - he wanted her to get up. The German kept poking her with the muzzle of the rifle as she lie there.

"Get up." Buck whispered to himself as he pushed through towards the second entrance gate, which slowly opened, allowing the new wave of arrivals to flood inwards, "Get up, Margie, please."

Buck rounded around half of the swinging gate and watched as Margie rolled herself on her side and tried to push upward. She looked exhausted, entirely depleted of herself and who she was; nothing more than the shell of a human with the instinct to survive. It broke Buck's heart to even have to see someone, a human being, like that in this very moment.

"Harlowe!" Buck called as he pushed through the new arrivals, moving past swinging arms and shoulders, side-stepping and keeping his eyes on Margie there on the ground.

"Up! Up!" the German yelled over her as Buck moved closer, "Get up!" In an instant, the German kicked and a blood-curdling scream ripped out of Margie's mouth.

Buck felt himself freeze for a split-second, his entire body growing cold as he watched the German do it again, a weak whimper from Margie to follow as tears trailed down her dirtied and bloodied face, her gaunt cheeks matching the bloodshot tint of her eyes, her hair, once bright and blonde and lush, now short, hap-hazardously cut and filled with scraps of dirt and mud. Buck watched as the German went to kick again, but Buck couldn't take it.

He stepped forward.

"Harlowe!" he yelled, quickly falling to his knees, watching as the German froze there, watching him with wide, stone-cold eyes as Buck's hands made contact with Margie. He noticed her flinch at his touch, her entire body reflecting the pain and the past all at once. Buck lowered his head and watched as Margie's eyes cracked open in fear, her breathing erratic, her body trembling.

"Margie, it's me. It's Buck Cleven." he said quietly, reaching forward to gently move his hand under her head to get her up, "You gotta stand for me."

"B-Buck." she managed out quickly, her hands frantically scrambling for his arms as she let him help her to get herself situated, before clinging to him like a frightened child, weak cries coming from her lips as Buck held her as tight as he possibly could, looking towards the German.

"Move." the German spat, taking a step closer, "Out!" Buck stared back at the German coldly, watching with a steadiness he hadn't been able to scrounge before and bit his tongue, holding back any words that could make the situation worse than it already was.

Buck's mind seemed to feel a million miles away as he began to take on the reality of the situation.

Margie.

Margie Harlowe was barely alive in his arms and he needed to get away from this German before they were both dead and more importantly, get her to a bed, to a quiet room, filled with people who'd fight the end of the war just to keep her alive.

Benny DeMarco.

Buck's heart clenched at the thought, knowing Benny was already mulling things over with others making conclusions about it all. How Margie had been thought to be as good as dead just 24 hours ago, when it had been over two weeks since a new Silver Bullets arrival. He couldn't imagine the horror on the rest of the mens' faces, nor Bradshaw, Farley or Carlisle. He could imagine Annie Bradshaw - hot on his heels, going through hell and high water, causing a storm to blow up - he knew she'd have someone's head if it weren't for the fact they were prisoners in a camp made specifically for them.

Annie Bradshaw was going to lose it - and the fact Buck was even struggling to maintain composure was a sure sign.

"Margie, we gotta move, you gotta keep yourself awake." Buck whispered quietly, moving his eyes in the direction of the second gate, "Keep moving."

"Buck." whimpered Margie, her tiny fists balled in his jacket as her legs flopped about, her limbs depleted, any energy she had once had gone. God, it scared him beyond compare seeing one of the Silver Bullets women like this - so far from the person they once were.

"I'm here Margie, I'm here." Buck said as they passed the second gate and he started for the bunkhouse, "You gotta keep your eyes open."

"Buck." Margie managed again - his name, she kept repeating it over and over - like convincing herself this was real, that he was real. He placed his hand on her side of her head, pushing it against his inner shoulder to stabilize.

"Buck," Margie managed, her voice pained, "t-they hit me, Buck. They h-hit me all over." Buck's blood ran cold at her words, legs nearly stuttering to a stop as she said those words.

One could take a few guesses as to what had transpired before Margie Harlowe had arrived, but with her current state, Buck's heart fell. And it fell right to his feet, causing his grip to loosen and his mind to twist. He stopped with Margie there curled into his side and looked down at her, grimacing and whimpering into his side, trying to stay on two shaky legs.

Anger hit him first - anger for her, with the Germans, with this war, with how the Germans had left her, her current state and condition.

Guilt coursed next - he would never be able to protect them all - all the 100th, all the Silver Bullets crew, the very people in this group of people here now. 1943 and a stalemate for the war and nothing would ever seem to change.

"It hurts. So much." Margie whispered, her voice cracking, "Everywhere." Buck couldn't take it.

"Margie." muttered Buck, getting a better grasp on Margie, "We gotta keep moving, Margie, get you in the bunkhouse. Where it's safe. Safe, alright?" A weak whimper seemed to escape her lips as she curled against him, as if to hide away in whatever comfort him and his heavy overcoat could provide.

Oh Annie Bradshaw was going to lose her mind.

Coming upon the bunkhouse, Buck felt Margie's grip on his coat and arms tighten as she looked upwards at the building.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head frantically, shoving at his arms, as if to try and break free, "no, no, no, NO." Pulling herself out of his grasp, she flopped onto the ground weakly, before moving to curl into a ball.

"Margie-" Buck started, scrambling to crouch beside her on the ground, where dirt now had smeared upon the clothes hanging off her body and her dirtied, bloodied face, "Margie, you'll be safe."

"No, I can't." whimpered Margie, writhing like a wounded animal, "I can't, please don't make me." She looked up at him with barely opened eyes, peering at him through glossy tears and bruised cheeks, her lip quivering, hands grasping at the Earth to grab hold.

"No one in there will hurt you, alright, Margie?" Buck said, placing a hand on the side of her face gently, bracing as she flinched at the touch, "Annie's there, Farley and Carlisle, too. We got a whole crew of our guys in there." Margie continued to shake but grew quiet instead.

"I promise you, nothing in there will hurt you." Buck repeated, watching as recognition attempted to flicker in her gaze. Buck's mind began to race a little.

"Let me help you up, okay?" he asked her quietly. She stared at him, flush to the ground like dead weight.

"I can't let them know what they did to me." Margie whispered softly, her voice trembling, "I can't let them know."

"Who's they?" Buck asked her quietly back, ignoring the looks of others passing by, their lingering gazes catching on them here on the ground.

"Them." Margie whispered, "Those people that held me captive until the Germans came for me. Caught me like a wild animal, tied me up to a wall and left me with nothing but darkness and the cold." Margie's eyes welled with tears. "You can't let them know."

"Who know?"

"Them." Margie whispered. She either wasn't making sense or Buck's mind was going, but all he knew was that she needed to get inside and he needed to keep her talking.

"Let me help you stand." Buck said again and Margie, this time nodded. Buck reached out, grabbing her frail arms, and slowly pulled her to her feet, placing her promptly upwards, before wrapping an arm around her form and nodding to the bunkhouse.

"I promise you'll be safe in here," he repeated to her quietly, "I swear to you." Margie looked up at him, with such a profound fear and sadness in her eyes that he felt his heart rate begin to pick up.

"C'mon." Buck said quietly, slowly nudging her forward. As they moved up the steps, Margie began to cry from beside him, each painful little breakage of emotion that slipped out of her, causing his insides to twist in a sickening way.

What had happened to her?

Moving down the hall to their room, Margie began to slip from his grasp, her legs giving out from under her as she clung to his coat and his form, her shaky body nearly bumping into every bit of wall as they moved.

As they came to their door, Margie holding onto him like life or death, Annie Bradshaw came over the threshold. And her eyes immediately went to the sobbing Margie Harlowe hanging off of him. Buck saw a glint of anger flash through Annie's gaze, something he had grown accustomed to after a few officer outings and conversations at the flying club. But then there was grief and sadness and something else he was sure he'd never fully be able to grasp.

Before Annie came to them, she leaned back over her shoulder and yelled back into the room.

"Someone get some warm water and a towel! Get some soup going, open up a bed!" Annie called, before looking forward again, her face growing with horror by the second.

"Wait, what's going on?" Brady's voice called from inside, as other sets of eyes began to appear, looking their way or moving to look through the doorway.

"It's Margie-" Buck began to hear people say, bodies bustling and beginning to move, the glimpse of a frozen Kennedy somewhere by the stove as she stared, numb and with tears in her eyes.

"What happened?" Annie asked as she stepped forward and slowly looked to peer at Margie's eyes.

"I don't know." Buck managed out, swallowing as Margie's grip tightened.

"Margie? It's me, Annie." Annie said, reaching forward to place a hand on her flight engineer's back only to be met with Margie flinching and beginning to cry again.

"You can't make me." Margie cried out, causing heads from inside to turn and look towards the door, "You can't make me go in there!" Annie met Buck's gaze; he felt helpless in all the ways there could be. He was half keeping Margie standing and trying to usher her in the room. She was in near hysterics, with no one having a clue what had happened and simply being in need of the ones who cared for her most. And she didn't want it.

"You'll be safe in here, Margie, it's Annie. Annie Bradshaw." Annie said quietly and desperately, keeping her voice low.

"They're in there," whimpered Margie, shoving her face into Buck's coat as he kept a firm grip on her tattered A2, "they're in there, I know it." Annie looked to Buck again who clenched his jaw before keeping a steady hand on Margie's back.

"Margie, you have to go in the room," Buck said, "you'll be safe."

"No, please, don't make me do it!"

"Who is they?" Annie asked quietly and Margie froze. Her body shuttered, as if preparing to scream, but instead she looked over at Annie with wide, bloodshot eyes.

"They tried to kill me, they were trying to kill me-"

"Hey, hey, hey, what's going on over here?" a voice called from down the hall. Buck looked away from Annie and found Bucky and Benny coming down the hall, some potatoes in hand, confused looks on their faces.

"If anyone tried to kill anyone here, I'll-" Bucky stopped mid-sentence, just as Benny came up beside him with a content look on his face only to freeze, "Margie."

For a moment, it was completely silent as they all stood there. Buck watched Benny the most - the way his face dropped completely, his eyes immediately all over Margie - her clothes, her scrunched face, the tears on her cheeks, the mud plastered upon her clothing, the blood. Buck saw it building on Benny's face - the anger. His blood boiling.

"Benny-" Buck started, only to watch Benny grit his teeth, eyes flaring wide, the potatoes in his hands slamming to the ground.

"What the fuck is going-"

"DeMarco." Annie snapped, stepping forward, placing a hand on Buck's arm, "You need to calm down." Annie dropped her voice. "She's terrified." Benny stared at Annie, his eyes darting over Annie's shoulder again only to refocus again.

"What the hell happened to her." he said, more of a statement, rather than a question, his eyes blazing to Buck, who stared at him. Benny was going to start losing it. Margie's grip was tightening.

"We don't know," Annie said, glancing up at Bucky who was now looking into the bunkroom, meeting the eyes of Kennedy, "but raising our voices and arguing is not going to help in any way, shape or form, so I highly suggest every one of you shuts your mouth." Annie met each of their eyes before looking back to Margie again.

"We can settle her in my bunk." Annie said quietly, before looking towards Margie again, "Hey, Margie, you ready to get some warm soup?" Margie was quiet standing there curled into his jacket, quivering, he could feel her trembling.

Buck took a slow glance at Benny, watching as the Captain's shoulders rose up and down in a pounding fashion, evidently upset and angered all at once, his emotions in a multitude of directions.

Captain Benny DeMarco wasn't one to lose his temper like this it seemed. But, in this moment, Buck could take two guesses as to the fact it was about to happen.

"I can't." Margie managed out, her voice hoarse, throat sounding raw with emotion and tears to follow, "Please, I can't, they're in there." The group went quiet around her, as Buck glanced upwards to Bessie who had come forward with a hot towel, Hambone behind her with a spoon, Brady appearing with a blanket. What had to hurt the most was that these were all people standing around her now that had cared for Margie for months before this. Some for years. Yet, they were almost unrecognizable.

"That's it-" Benny started, before starting to turn, unclenching his jaw and pointing towards the door, his footsteps becoming quick.

"Benny-" Bucky started, but was quickly cut off.

"What the fuck did you do to her!" Benny yelled, his footsteps beginning to move down the hall, his voice echoing off the sodden wood, Buck's eardrums ringing with a clammer.

"Benny, lower your goddamn voice!" Bucky called to him, moving from the group, forcefully grabbing Benny's shoulder and pushing it back, "You're gonna freak her out more!"

"They did something to her, Bucky, they did something to her and scared the shit out of her and-"

"Listen, you gotta calm the fuck down-" Bucky started in. Buck turned his head slowly away from the rumbling scene and looked to Margie, landlocked onto his jacket still. The hour was desperate.

"Don't tell me to calm down-"

"You get any louder and you're going to freak her out even more, ya hear?!"

"You two have to shut up." Annie yelled, raising her voice the loudest he'd ever heard her do so, "If you need to be yelling so much, go find a different wall to bark up, okay? We don't have time to listen to you two right now." Both Bucky and Benny stopped, staring each other down.

"Don't go making more problems." Bucky said calmly as Benny stared coldly.

"Then they gotta stop doing stuff that make me want to." Benny answered, narrowing his gaze. Buck slowly turned his gaze back to Margie and watched as Annie slowly placed a hand against her cheek, gazing into her eyes in the most calming and present way. To let her know she wasn't alone and that these were people that cared for her. Right here.

"It'll be okay, you can stay in my bunk," Annie said quietly, before glancing at Buck, "I can take it from here." Buck nodded, watching as Annie took hold of Margie's hands, taking them into her own before Margie was latching onto Annie, trembling and shaking, eyes unfocused, as Annie led the two of them into the room.

He watched, like a stagnant figure, as Brady came forward, wrapping a blanket around Margie's shoulders before guiding her over towards where Annie bunked out, disappearing from his line of sight.

Buck set his eyes on Benny, now looking towards the doorway where Margie had disappeared into, his eyes a mixture of contempt, torment and sadness. Bucky was still there, standing in front of Benny, hands on the Captain's shoulders, as if letting go would unleash the chaos Benny was still holding back.

"Benny…." Buck said closing the space between him and the two of them, coming up on Bucky's side to look at the Captain's face, "calm yourself down before you go walking in there, okay?" Benny watched Buck, his gaze narrowed, jaw clenched, shoulders and neck filled with a tight tension.

People that had been peering out of other bunkrooms to see the commotion, were now turning away, moving to leave out the door, or going back to minding their business. It was relatively quiet and calm. And for once, silent. Buck continued watching Benny.

"She's freaked out enough as it is," Bucky started, "did you hear what she was saying-"

"I heard every goddamn word she was saying, what happened to her?" Benny said quickly, leaning forward towards Bucky, "I'm gonna kill whoever did that to her-"

"Benny." Buck said, reaching forward to place a hand on the man's shoulder, "We'll figure that all out. But for now. What you gotta focus on? Calming down. You gotta keep it in your mind - Margie is here and she's alive. Albeit, we wish in a better situation. But she's here, with us, safe for the moment and alive." Buck watched him. "You freaking out won't help us out anymore. And scaring her further isn't going to do us any good." Benny looked helplessly towards the door again before looking back at Buck.

"She'll be okay," Bucky said quietly, patting Benny's shoulder, "you got Annie Bradshaw in there ready to tear the eye sockets outta someone it seems. Margie's in good hands."

"Yeah," Buck agreed, a small smile on his face, "she looked ready to go out there and let someone have it." Benny managed a slight smile on his face, the worry and concern that had been hidden by anger, beginning to emerge on his features. Buck could tell Benny was at a bit of a loss for words other than expletives, along with feelings he couldn't quite reel in.

"I shouldn't have lost my temper-"

"Benny," Buck said quietly, offering a slight smile, "just go in there, do what you can to help. We'll all make sure she feels safe and comfortable, okay? She's here now." Benny nodded at his words before letting out a deep breath.

"I'm real sorry again-"

"Benny." Bucky said leaning forward a smile on his face, voice low, "Pick up your goddamn potatoes, shut your mouth and get in there." Benny couldn't seem to help but manage a small smile at those words, dropping is head before glancing upwards at Bucky with a smile.

"Yes, sir, alright?" Benny said, before turning, gathering up his potatoes and pausing by the door. Buck watched as he took a deep breath, before stepping inside. Buck grew quiet beside Bucky, eyes still trained on where Benny had been standing before entering, before Bucky nudged his shoulder.

"What the hell do you think they did to her?" Bucky asked him, his gaze narrowed, eyes set on the doorway and his face like a stone. Buck glanced his way and set his jaw firmly.

"We'll let her rest, get herself back in order. Give her time." Buck said, "But I don't know…..whatever happened, clearly it was enough to convince her that it's still happening." Bucky let out a low whistle and righted his feet before crossing his arms and leaning up against the opposite wall of Buck.

"You think they did something to her?" Bucky asked, tilting his head, anger pooling in his eyes, "I think Benny was onto something, I could shove their heads right down into the dirt-"

"Bucky." Buck said, shifting his weight as he watched him, "Now, you're sounding just as bad as Benny."

"You see the look on her face?" Bucky asked him, "They touch any one of those women, and they're dead." Buck knew there was no use arguing, especially when truer words had never been spoken and rightfully shut his mouth.

"C'mon," Buck said, nodding his head towards the door, "she needs us." Bucky slowly pushed up from the wall before following towards the bunkhouse doorway.

"I swear to God, Buck." Bucky said pausing to look at him, jaw clenched.

"If one of those officers comes in and messes with any one of us, you'll have their head," Buck said, a slight upturn of a grin on his face. Bucky watched him. Buck gave him a pat on the shoulder and a smirk.

"I heard you the first time."

[the-paris-of-people]

The past couple days online have been... interesting. I consider myself a leftist, think capitalism is corrupt, and think that it needs to be seriously reformed/overthrown. I admit that while I've thrown around phrases and terms like "burn it all down" and "the revolution needs to come" out of frustration without actually thinking about what a revolution entails: excellent organization, unity, and strategy to defeat the United States, the world's largest military superpower which has inflicted political and social destabilization across the majority of countries around the world. There also needs to be superb infrastructure and community to support the disabled, elderly, and poor populations who rely on government assistance and programs, healthcare, and accommodations while this so-called revolution rages on.

All I've received from the far leftist movement are lectures from condescending intellectuals who rattle off academic citations regarding ideological theory rather than practical, tangible steps to advocate for change in our local and regional communities. I have not seen one of them actually discuss conversations they've had with their friends, family, or Americans about what they want to see reflected for the future of the country. I have not seen one of them discussed how destructive, detrimental and traumatic a Trump presidency was for social prejudice and morale in the United States. I understand that for many marginalized groups they've been living in a facist state for centuries so the possibility Project 2025 doesn't galvanize them to see the two parties differently, but I don't think it is fair to white leftists falsely equivocate the election of both parties for the entire American population at all??? Or like at least specify the issues you're referring to in which you view both parties as the same????? Literally one TikTok creator who I used to follow talked about how true leftists are so much better than liberals because they aren't waiting for a presidential candidate to save the world NOW due to the accelerated apocalypse due to climate change but when asked how to change the world they suggest sharing ideas of your future utopia with other leftist groups. How the fuck is sitting around talking about living in a walkable community is great considered "saving the world now"? How are you going to dismantle and restructure American infrastructure to create these communities? How are you going to remove existing racial and social tensions to create a community where everyone lives happily side by side? Do people not consider reality at all?????

And is it not wrong for people to have a fucking sliver of optimism and hope at incremental change that's achieved within the corrupt bipartisan system of American politics, even if they know it's propaganda??? Is it wrong for people to have a singular fucking moment of relief in feeling like their values, beliefs, and lives will be better protected and THEY can advocate for change better??? Is it wrong when there's a couple months until the most pressing election in recent history for people to make the choice they feel will reduce the most amount of harm???

[spotaus]

Thinking about Orchid and her connection to my take on Gender (because this was meant to be about her and the Crew but it just devolved into a character analysis kinda??? More trauma-dumping maybe???) This is very much an oc/personal rant so feel free to ignore it 🫡

So, Orchid started off as a character I didn't really think much of (hear me out this is going to be relevant) because I wanted to add a 'girl' character but didn't know what to *do* with her, y'know? She was always going to be the strongest one there, she had the odds stacked in her favor with her parents. She was always going to be the gloomy side-character to match Reset's energy. But I think she's gone through every stage of Generic Woman I could possibly find.

At first she was angry and abrasive (think Fell!Sans) where every other word was a curse and she was likely to throw the first punch then laugh as she kicks her enemy while they're down. This was when Reset was a cartoonishly self-centered villain whose goal was simply to prove others wrong. Then Orchid became a sort of sisterly figure. This was short-lived, but she was the one comforting people who Reset would torment, but would ultimately follow his orders, because at this point he was actually a danger and sadistic. And then there was the phase where the story mellowed out and she became the token Goth Girl who, yes she was strong, but was heavy on the 'whatever' energy. Then there was her Era of deep self-loathing and anxiety about her worth that held her back and made her a much more timid and meek character who would only lash out on occasion.

Now, Orchid is the best of those iterations I've written yet. She's calm, level-headed, and a natural leader. Her father raised those traits into her. But she's very reactive, and can be silly, and when she's comfortable it's likely that air of importance transforms into something more comfortable and familiar. She laughs loudly and grins wide, she likes loud video-games but loves to read in the quiet. She's extremely disciplined, and normally no one can get through her tough exterior besides her best friend, Reset. She does what she does for her own enjoyment, sure, but she's thought of every angle and makes her choice to help Reset and control the others with her whole chest. She still worries she won't live up to her invisible expectations, and that and her loyalty are her two driving forces.

I know that Orchid is important to me because she's the longest-running female oc I've had. I have a rough relationship with womanhood/girlhood and I know looking back that Orchid recieved every ounce of my distaste for being a woman that I could shovel into her. That never made her less of a character, she was actually always one of my favorites, and rarely was she a 'punching bag oc'. I just... projected onto her a lot. And she's a good sign of how I've learned who I am. I've decided that my own femininity is something I could live without. I'd rather not associate myself with it, and I'd like to leave it in my past, focusing on a future where I'm not tied down with any gender roles or expectations. That won't happen, but I've come to terms with it myself. Orchid though? I figured out through her that I don't have to hate women characters. My own distaste for my circumstances doesn't mean I have to push it onto my characters (on God I've never expressed anything rude to actual people, that'd be rude as hell and uncalled for, but I have a bad habit of disliking fictional women in media). So, Orchid is a well-roubded character finally. She has motivations abd goals and a *lot* more depth than I ever expected her to. She's happy with being a woman, she's content. She's not treated differently for it in unfair ways by those she cares about, so she doesn't mind it. She likes to wear pretty outfits and lets Reset add bows to her ribbons. She doesn't let being a woman hold her back in the slightest.

So, yeah. Orchid is one of my babies. If I ever leave this Fandom behind for good, she's one that's coming with (Ichor, Orchid, and Pretender all have human designs I can use elsewhere lol-) but in the meantime I'll just rotate her around in my brain for a while longer.

If I'm right, she's been with me for nearly 5-6 years and I went through a *lot* with her as an outlet. So, she's kinda just like an old stuffed animal. A lil ripped, matted fur, maybe a stain or two, but there's a story there and that makes it important beyond belief.

[du-hjarta-skulblaka]

Some mild existential dread in the house today

[rainingincale]

.

[sskk-manifesto]

!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[seventh-district]

not even gonna tag this properly bc i don't wanna get Involved but i do have some Thoughts i need to get out into the void so here we go

(aaa quick edit: CW for mention/discussion of Boothill leaks)

[abluescarfonwaston]

Hey... What do you think Mia called her Dad? Papa? Father? Daddy?

Because she must have been at least 9 or 10 when he died if not a little older. Like. She remembers him. Even if he was always outside the village for work she remembers him. Remembers Misty losing him. Had to explain to Maya, or maybe worse- never had to at all - why he wasn't there. How she got his sense of humor and his laugh and neither of them can be held tight by him anymore but she can hold Maya tight and maybe then he doesn't feel so far gone.

What did she call him? Did she love him? Did Maya ever get that chance?

[volfoss]

Pretty happy to get 25% thru this book tonight tbh! Hoping to get 50-60% thru tomorrow if all goes well :)

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Stuck In Her Head

short contemporary YA coming-of-age set in Hong Kong, following two teen girls who are friends

one is a musical prodigy but has lost her passion and wants to explore different possibilities for her future

the other is passionate about music but dealing with mental health & family issues

the latter develops a crush on the former, who is aroace, and they have to re-navigate their friendship, while working on a music/coding competition project together and dealing with their own issues

[gentil-minou]

Xiantober Day 8 - Head Disciple!Xian

Yunmeng Jiang celebrates the promotion of their newest head disciple with festivities and merriment that last well into the night. It's a right of passage a chance for the new head disciple to shine.

Madame Yu canceled Wei Wuxian's ceremony.

She made a fair point, Wei Wuxian thinks. It was a difficult growing season and the harvest wasn't as good as last year's so it wouldn't do for them to celebrate while the villagers were suffering.

And yeah, the request for aid was also really important. It's just a shame that Uncle Jiang and Jiang Cheng both had to go for it, today of all days. Wei Wuxian had asked if he could have gone too, Jiang Cheng behind him nodding furiously as well. It would have been a great way to start his new role.

But Madam Yu said no.

Then, she took shijie off with her to visit their family. It wouldn't make sense for Wei Wuxian to go with them, he's not really their family. Shijie made him soup before she left, which will be perfect!

Wei Wuxian is okay with not having a ceremony. He sits on his favorite dock overlooking the lake, where the lotus blooms are especially big and he can see out behind the sea for miles, over to the vast landscape that awaits on the other side.

Years ago, when he first came to Yunmeng with Uncle Jiang, he couldn't even swim in the water for very long. It was the former head disciple who helped him then, teaching him to breathe between strokes so he's not holding his breath forever. They were also really kind, and never said anything about him being behind all the other kids. They gave him some extra practice after everyone left, and then some when Wei Wuxian had started to surpass the others.

He's gonna miss them now that they've moved off to marry into a new clan, but Wei Wuxian thinks he can keep their memory alive.

He didnt actually care much for the head disciple role. It was just a role and well as long as he gets to go on night hunts and save good people what does it matter what title he wears?

Still, when Uncle Jiang sat him down and told him he'd got the role, Wei Wuxian accepted it with gravity for what it would mean.

He liked helping with the younger trainees. At Yunmeng, everyone trains together, from the moment you can hold a sword properly you can join the older disciples.

Wei Wuxian had loads of experience helping the younger kids out, and it's a lot of fun!

They're a sneaky bunch and gangly and 3-shimei really needs to stop waving her sword around like it's still made of wood for crying out loud.

But they're also earnest and hardworking and adorable, and they look at Wei Wuxian like he could never do wrong, and well, he wants to prove them right.

So it doesn't matter if he doesn't get a fancy ceremony. He doesn't need it. All he needs is to help the other disciples and make Jiang Sect the best there is and ever was. Attempt the impossible, and succeed.

"Da-shixiong?"

A timid voice calls out from behind Wei Wuxian and he peers around to see a group of disciples, some around his age and some a little younger, loitering near the pavillion.

"Aiya, what are you guys doing here? Didn't Jiang-shuhu give you drills to run through?"

Technically, Wei Wuxian was supposed to help them with these drills, but okay maybe he needs a break sometimes and maaaaaybe he wanted to wallow just a little bit.

This disciples shuffle together, nudging at each other to say something. They're so funny Wei Wuxian has to bite his lips to keep from laughing at them.

Finally 6-shidi, the youngest and probably Wei Wuxian's favorite, comes over to Wei Wuxian's side. "Da-shixiong! We wanted to show you something!" he yells directly into his face, spittle flying everywhere. It's a good thing he's so cute.

Wei Wuxian raises a brow. "Okay…"

He follows the nervous group back from where they came, really hoping they haven't broken something. First day on the job and already there's something for Madame Yu to yell at him about.

Ah well, better him than the kids.

Before they turn the corner into the main training grounds, 6-shidi does an abrupt about face and stares determinedly up at Wei Wuxian, since he's still a good couple heads shorter than him.

"Da-shixiong, close your eyes!"

Wei Wuxian does so, and the little hands pull him forward. Someone covers his eyes so he can't perk but he can hear them moving around and whispering. At some point there's the sound of something dropping, a plate? Then the sound of furious whispering and Wei Wuxian has to laugh now.

Finally, the hand moves away from his eyes and he opens them, blinking as he adjusts to the bright afternoon sunlight illuminating the courtyard. When he can see, he looks around at the tables on the floor piled high with sweets from the market and freshly cooked dishes, even an extra large tureen of shijie's soup.

There's a space set up for games on the other side of the yard, simple ones like kite shooting and an archery set up with funny faces drawn on the target. A table near the center that must be the place of honor is covered with jars of liquor, and beside the table is… Jiang Cheng?

Wei Wuxian gapes at him. Jiang Cheng scowls at something unseen in a corner, arms crossed protectively over his chest. "I snuck away. Dad knows. Don't make a big deal out of it."

How can he not??? Wei Wuxian practically leaps across the courtyard to smother Jiang Cheng in a hug.

And even though Jiang Cheng complains, Wei Wuxian notices he doesn't try to shove him off.

6-shidi tugs on his sleeve to get his attention and says, "What do you think, Da-shixiong? We put this all together for you! I helped draw the faces!"

A chorus of voices sounds out around him as all his little shidi and shimei clamber over to tell him how they contributed. Wei Wuxian beams at them all, laughing and laughing and not sure if he's ever going to stop. He sniffles a little bit.

Like he said, he doesn't need ceremony when he has a sect like this one.