#i actually hate Julian Fellowes

[the-real-lordrisley]

they wayyy Julian Fellowes is so actually allergic to potential is crazy, and Downton would be so much better if he wasn't a conservative cuck pandering to middle aged traditionalists

bcs wdym we had a period in the show where Thomas, Sybil, and Tom could have been a crazy powerful boundary breaking trio and he just ???? didn't ????

(and then proceeds to kill Sybil, water Tom's political opinion to make him more tolerable to his Brexit voting watchers, and strip Thomas of all his agency and confidence)

[carmelasopranono1defenseattorney]

ok i was like "i'm gonna type out a few choices that could be fun" but i am not capable of being normal about tv shows my obsession is. unhinged. so i ended up typing out an essay. anyway i have sooo many thoughts about what could make a good followup to the sopranos and my ideas are under here but i shoved them under a read more because it was getting out of hand. anyway i'm kind of curious if any of these speak to anyone or if anyone would want them added in a future poll

other shows that i think could make really good choices: Twin Peaks The Twilight Zone (if we want to go wild and go to the ROOT roots of television although i think this might have wayyy too many episodes) Bojack Horseman (kind of fun because it was always a binge release so i don't think very many people have watched this "weekly") Lost The Americans The Shield Buffy the Vampire Slayer (kind of a weird one because Joss Whedon is awful, it's super influential and other people who aren't joss whedon worked on it and deserve credit but I definitely understand people not wanting to touch this) Fleabag (this could be fun cause it's so short, it'd be like a mini appetizer between binges) Battlestar Galactica The Good Place (if we want to take a swerve into pure comedy lol, i thought of other comedy series but they're all ridiculously long. on the other hand i feel like 90% of people on tumblr have already seen this) Atlanta The Leftovers Friday Night Lights (I don't actually know much about this show and I really don't like sports but it's the one big blindspot in my prestige/critically acclaimed tv show watchlist. i think this might have 20 episode seasons though so that might not be a good fit) Six Feet Under (kind of feels like this got overshadowed in the 00s prestige deathmatch between The Wire and The Sopranos but i loveddd this show, I want to say it's my favourite show ever but i haven't watched it since i had the dvd boxset in like 2010 so i'm like. worried that maybe it's not as good) Deadwood Halt and Catch Fire (show about women inventing computers in the 70s/80s, I love love love this show it was consistently like in the top 5-10 range on year end lists in the later half of the 10s and it was kind of underwatched. I remember season 1 not being great and it does feel like a bit of a shallow mad men clone but season 2 takes a hard shift to the women being the main characters and it's soooo good) an anime...... (HEAR ME OUTTT i'm actually not a huge anime person but there are some anime that have a similar like, flawed protagonist thing like the sopranos where you have to really think about what's literally being shown vs what the themes are, what the intended message is which i love. if we were to do this my suggestions would be either revolutionary girl utena or neon genesis evangelion) Hannibal (another one that tumblr already knows really well but like. hey if we're discussing black sails, succession, breaking bad, why not) The Larry Sanders Show (disclaimer i don't actually know very much about this show. it's a parody of late night talk shows, like we see a real filmed late night talk show but it's all scripted, i feel like it was probably influential on stuff like Veep, like the principal is that Larry seems very polite but the backstage of the show is very vulgar and they're all mean to each other. this appears on so many best of the 90s shows lists and it seems like it was HBO's first big hit, i'm really curious about it) Oz (another show that i don't know a ton about, this is kind of like, beta sopranos, hbo's prestige drama that did well but wasn't the smash hit that sopranos was. I feel like some of the other hbo shows (Six Feet Under, The Wire, Deadwood) would be better picks but idk maybe someone is a really big fan of the show and can sell people on it. it's about life in a maximum security men's prison) Pose (prestige drama about the gay ball scene in New York in the 80s. I've only seen the first two seasons but I really liked them) Girls

Just for fun nonbinding poll:

Just because we're a little over halfway and I keep thinking about 'West Wing might be fun' and 'Breaking Bad might be a good choice'

Also i know there's other golden age of TV shows that I left off deliberately due to quality decline in the last season(s) or because they're anthologies, you can guess what they are

[walkingstackofbooks]

If you're taking prompts right now how would you feel about Julian accidentally damaging Kukalaka and somehow Garak finds it and repairs it for Julian.

Sending love <3

HELLO HI IT'S FINALLY HERE :D This fic has been one of the most difficult things I've written yet - believe me when I say I have laboured over this for hours - but it's been a whole lot of fun, too, so thank you for the prompt :D It's immensely satisfying to finally be able to present you with "A Bear Like Me" <3 <3 <3 (Also on AO3!)

His shift was over, but Julian still had one more patient to attend to, back in his quarters. Kukulaka had, at long last, been safely returned to him, but as he had been putting the bear back in his place of pride on the desk, Julian had spotted that some of the stitches in his side had started to fray. Now, he was looking forward to being able to treat his old friend with some long-overdue, tender, loving care. 

"I'm home!" he called as he entered his quarters – not just for Kukulaka's benefit. At some point during the last few weeks, his weekly lunch with Garak had turned into dinner (he was marginally less likely to be interrupted at this time), which had then turned into multiple dinners, until it was no longer surprising to return home and find the tailor sitting on his sofa, usually embroidering some creation or other. 

"That much is evident, Doctor," Garak replied acerbically, but Julian could recognise the fond twinkle behind the Cardassian's eyes. "Is it really necessary to state the obvious every time you come through that door?"

Julian slung his bag down on the sofa, shooting a grin at Garak. "Necessary? No. Although, now I know how much it irritates you..."

"You are insufferable, Doctor," Garak declared.

"And yet, you're still here, suffering me. At this point, I think you'll find it's your own fault, Mister Garak."

Garak's eyes followed him as he walked across the room to retrieve his small needlework kit. That, too, he placed on the sofa, before going to get Kukulaka. 

"Sewing, Doctor?"

"Yes, actually. I noticed someone," he said, giving the bear an affectionate pat on the head, "was looking a little worse for—"

He stopped abruptly. Having now picked up Kukulaka, he could not see the worn-out stitches that he'd noticed yesterday: in fact, he could no longer see any stitches at all. Every trace of Julian's surgeries over the years, from his first, clumsy efforts to his later, more refined sutures had seemingly disappeared overnight, leaving Julian with a strangely hollow pit in the bottom of his stomach.

"Garak," he said, keeping his back to the tailor as he struggled to keep his voice normal. "Did you do this?"

"Indeed I did, my dear Doctor." Julian hated that he could hear the smile in Garak's voice. “I, too, couldn’t help noticing what a state your bear was in, and since it is my area of expertise…”

“That’s— That’s very kind of you,” replied Julian quietly. The awareness that he ought to be sounding more grateful rubbed against his insides like sandpaper, but the heartbeat pounding in his ears was making it difficult to concentrate on keeping his emotions in check.

Garak hadn’t seemed to notice. “I think you’ll find he’s in perfect condition,” he continued. “Better, even. He’ll likely not need stitches again – unless he winds up on some peculiar adventure, I suppose. But your bear is not so foolhardy as you, my dear.”

Garak’s tone was light, but there was no mockery to it; he was speaking about Kukulaka the same way Julian did, and at any other time, Julian would have loved him for it. Right now, all Julian could do was shrug, replying only with a short, “I suppose.”

There was a pause. “I don’t mean to imply that your handiwork was bad,” redirected Garak. “In fact, I was rather impressed, Doctor, at the way you’d kept him together for all these years. He wasn’t the sturdiest fellow.”

“I used to call him my first patient.” The words left Julian unexpectedly, and he immediately wished they hadn’t, because now he could feel the dam beginning to burst and he couldn’t – he couldn’t – let Garak see how stupidly emotional he was getting over this small kindness.

He pivoted around, gripping Kukulaka close as he walked back to the door. “I left something in the infirmary,” he said, still not looking at Garak. “I’ll be right back.”

The door slid open, but suddenly, Garak was in front of him, placing a hand on his wrist.

“You’re upset,” he said simply. “Why?”

Julian was trapped. While he wanted to flinch away from Garak, whose touch was feeling more like a shackle than a comfort, he didn’t want to do anything – anything more – that might trouble his friend. For a few moments, he stood helplessly in place, unable to think of a way to get out of this situation without offending Garak.

“If you were me…” he started softly, then changed his mind – that would be a stupid thing to say. “No, don’t worry. It doesn’t matter,” he finished.

“I think, Doctor, this is perhaps a conversation better had sitting down, don’t you?” asked Garak, placing his other hand on Julian’s back and guiding him towards the sofa with a gentle pressure. “Now, then,” he continued once they were seated, “you should know that I am greatly interested to hear your thoughts. If I were you, then what?”

There had always been something about Garak that had made Julian feel overpowered: the feeling had often been one that Julian had reached out for, been attracted by, his inability to resist Garak leaving him with a certain thrill. Now, that feeling had been turned against him, intensified by how unusually close Garak was sitting to him – shoulder-to-shoulder, knee-to-knee; his cold hand still covering Julian’s wrist.

“If you were me,” he mumbled reluctantly, “what lie would you be coming up with?”

“That’s difficult to say,” replied Garak, “when I don’t know what truth it is that my story would have to conceal.”

Julian snorted wetly. “I am grateful, really—” he tried to say again, but Garak cut him off with a sharp tut.

“I’ve seen you tell better lies than that, Doctor,” he said reprovingly. “Clearly, there has been some error on my part here.”

Julian didn’t have the energy to correct him. He let himself lean against the other man, although he didn’t quite dare to rest his head on Garak’s shoulder, lest he scare his friend away.

“I’m not entirely sure I can explain it myself,” he said softly, looking down at Kukulaka and giving him a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry, Garak, but I simply don’t know where to start. Can we just forget it? Please?”

He flicked his eyes back up to Garak cautiously, not really expecting the interrogation to cease –  and was quite taken aback to find that a vicious scowl had spread over the Cardassian’s face.

“Have it your way,” Garak said archly. “I suppose I was invited for dinner, not conversation.” Standing up abruptly, he stalked over to the kitchenette without a second glance back at Julian.

“Garak—”

Julian’s throat closed around the rest of his sentence, his insides shrivelling into ice as he watched Garak silently tap orders into the replicator. He should have left when he’d had the chance. It would have confused Garak, upset him – but now, it seemed, he was mad at Julian, and that was much worse.

You want to fix this? Then stop being so childish and say something, hissed a voice in his head, but Julian could not obey. Even as Garak finished setting food on the table – now pointedly taking a seat at the other end of the sofa – Julian continued to find himself frozen in place. It was absurd, he knew, having some sort of breakdown and ruining their evening over a child’s toy: it wasn’t even as though Kukulaka had been injured in some way, which would at least have been a little understandable. You always did overreact, that familiar voice sneered, and Julian couldn’t deny it – he was broken, defective, damaged…

Just like Kukulaka had been.

But mending a teddy bear was a far easier process than mending a human. No wonder Garak had lost patience with him.

“The food will be getting cold, Doctor,” said Garak, causing Julian to startle, and all at once a thought was dropping from his lips.

“You’ve got scars, haven’t you, Garak?”

Garak hesitated, seeming to withdraw into himself momentarily before responding. “A curious inquiry,” he replied, “since I am sure you know, Doctor, that in the past I have endured medical treatment less... solicitous… than your own. You offered to heal them, once.”

“And you didn’t let me,” Julian murmured softly, his eyes unfocused, far away. He was still mindlessly tracing patterns across Kukulaka’s fur, the bear soft in his hands.

Garak roughly set down his knife and fork, and Julian flinched at the sudden clatter of metal against china.

“I see,” Garak said bitingly, turning to face Julian. “My ‘transgression’ was failing to realise that you would consider that akin to removing the flaws in your toy. Tell me, do you have scars, Doctor? Are reminders of every mistake you made, every failure to fulfil your duty, etched across your skin?”

“I had Kukulaka,” Julian whispered. “Of course I don’t have scars. I was supposed to be perfect, I—My parents—”

He faltered, a harsh chuckle overtaking his speech. “Of course I don’t have scars,” he repeated, hoping that Garak might understand.

Because it was true, despite his barely-coherent explanation. The bear’s many, careful stitches had been, in a way, a monument to what they had been through together: where his skin had remained unblemished, Kukulaka had borne the scars of their childhood for both of them.

He hadn’t realised he had more to say until he’d already started speaking again.

“Did I—did I ever tell you how many dreams I used to have about the hospital?” he asked. “Not after I found out, I mean, but before, when I was seven, eight years old… My parents told me they were just nightmares— I-I thought they were just nightmares. And then…”

Julian’s voice was shaking. He didn’t dare look at Garak.

“And then when they told me it was true, I—well, I thought I remembered it but… But do I? How can I ever know for sure which memories are real and which were made up while I was sleeping? I don’t have scars, Garak, I don’t know what happened to me!”

His voice, which had been rising steadily, suddenly dropped back down to a hoarse whisper. “But Kukulaka did,” he said. “Kukulaka was there, he was real – and—and I know it sounds silly but that’s why he’s never been just a toy, not me. He’s my witness.”

That last statement sounded a touch dramatic, even to his ears, and he had no idea what Garak would make of it all. He sat there, fidgeting, as he waited for his friend to respond.

“Your dinner is getting cold,” Garak said eventually, but more softly this time, and he shuffled along the sofa to sit next to the doctor once more. Julian could recognise an olive branch when he saw one, and he nodded in acknowledgement.

“I’d better get started then,” he replied, although if truth be told, he no longer had much of an appetite. As he set Kukulaka down beside him, he wondered if Garak was going to say anything else, or if they’d be left eating their dinner in this odd silence that had now sprung up between them.

“I must admit, I am curious,” Garak started, several minutes later. Julian looked at him, automatically tensing in anticipation of what he might say. “Yesterday, you mentioned that you had left your bear with Miss Ren, following your separation. Why, when you are so protective of him?”

Julian sighed: of course Garak would ask the difficult questions. “Leeta was delighted by Kukulaka from the moment she met him,” he tried to explain. “And I suppose that meant a lot to me, that she loved my scarred, ugly bear the way she did. So when we broke up…” He trailed off, shrugging.

“It’s hard to describe,” he continued, brows drawing together. “Kukulaka had become important to us both, I guess, during our relationship. And so even if she didn’t love me anymore, the fact that she still loved him… I don’t know. I wanted her to have him. It made sense at the time.” He shrugged again, giving Garak a short, rueful smile. “And of course, that was before my parents came to the station,” he added.

Garak frowned at him studiously. “Ren Leeta accepted the bear as he was; therefore you felt that she accepted you too, for all your faults,” he said slowly. “Meanwhile I… I attempted to fix your friend and remove any defects – and you believe that to be a reflection of how I view you, Doctor. Am I correct in thinking that you see your bear as some sort of—of metaphor for yourself?”

Julian stared at him. It wasn’t how he would have put it – it wouldn’t have occurred to him to phrase his feelings in such a way – but now that Garak had voiced the thought, it was hard to ignore.

“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” he replied quietly. “But yes. Perhaps.”

Shaking his head, he filed the thought away for further examination later, and looked back to Garak. “You’d make quite the psychologist, Mister Garak,” he said, lips twitching into a soft grin.

“Oh, hardly,” said Garak, scoffing just as Julian had known he would. “Other people’s problems are of no interest to me.”

There was a strange swooping sensation in Julian’s chest. “But mine… are?” he asked hesitantly.

Garak hesitated too, before issuing an awkward, stiff reply. “I did not… enjoy seeing you upset,” he admitted. His voice grew quieter. “And I had hoped that I… would not hurt you, again. Clearly, that was one expectation too far.”

Julian was quite unprepared for such raw honesty. His lips fell apart, and he found himself at a loss for how to reply.

Garak pulled himself up straighter, drawing in a breath. “You made a mistake in trusting me with your feelings,” he said curtly, nodding as though confirming something to himself. “Yes. I should leave, before I hurt you any more.”

He stood up, and Julian followed him indignantly, grabbing his hand. “Leave?” he exclaimed. “How could you possibly think that’s what I want, Garak?”

“As I recall, you tried to leave first—”

“And then you forced me to have this entire conversation with you!” responded Julian incredulously. “You’re impossible! First you give me the silent treatment, then you get angry with me, and now just as we’re on the verge of… of something…”

He trailed off, a dark expression creeping into his eyes. “God forbid that you actually share your feelings,” he muttered. “That would be too much like sentiment, wouldn’t it? What was it you said, “sentiment is the greatest weakness of all” – is that it?”

Garak laughed scornfully. “After this evening, Doctor, you’re hardly in a position to lecture me about being open with one’s feelings.”

Julian wondered how they’d ended back in an argument again; in fact, how any of this had turned into an argument at all. Was Garak really so emotionally hopeless that he couldn’t show vulnerability for more than a few minutes without having to cover it up defensively?

Although… Garak wasn’t exactly incorrect in saying that Julian was in no position to judge. ‘Defensive’, ‘uncomfortable with vulnerability’, ‘emotionally hopeless’ – if he were honest with himself, these were all adjectives that could describe one Doctor Julian Bashir…

God, they really were a pair, weren’t they? Despite himself, he started to chuckle, the situation suddenly appearing to him quite absurd.

“I fail to see the amusement in this situation,” snapped Garak, which only made Julian laugh harder.

“Us,” he replied. “We’re both useless at this, Garak. God.” He sat back down, roughly wiping his sleeve across his eyes, and took a deep, settling breath.

“Stay,” he said, looking up into Garak’s eyes and pulling on his hand. “Please. I don’t want you to go.”

Garak was looking back at him, although Julian wasn’t sure if his face was creased in confusion or concern.

“I cannot promise that I will not… upset you, again,” he replied tightly.

“I guess I can’t promise that either,” said Julian, “but we can try talking about it, can’t we? We didn’t do too badly tonight.”

Garak raised an eyebrow. “Okay, tonight has been a train wreck,” Julian corrected. “But you know what they say: practice makes perfect. Sit down, Garak. Please.”

He moved Kukulaka back onto his lap, indicating that the space next to him was now free, but Garak made no movement. Julian’s heart seemed to stop as he waited, his eyes caught in the Cardassian’s piercing blue gaze.

“Your bear will never be as he was before,” noted Garak, his voice low. “I cannot change that.”

Julian stopped running his fingers through the bear’s fur, dropping his eyes down to Kukulaka. “I know,” he said softly. “And I won’t lie – that’s going to hurt for quite some time.” For a few seconds, he closed his eyes, as a mixture of loss and regret pulled sharply upon his heartstrings. “But losing you won’t make that go away,” he continued, looking back at Garak once more. “Will you stay?”

There was another too-long pause, but finally, finally, Garak was sitting back down with a sigh. “If I must,” he complained, but Julian knew that was just for show. Before he could second-guess himself, he set Kukulaka down on Garak’s lap, smiling at the surprise that immediately leapt onto the Cardassian’s face.

“Doctor…”

“Kukulaka would like to say thank you for making him feel better,” Julian said firmly. “Apparently you make for quite the doctor, too.”

“Oh?”

For a few seconds, Garak was seemingly speechless, his eyes flicking between Julian and Kukulaka, before settling on the bear. “You’re quite welcome, young bear,” he said seriously. “Although I doubt I’ll be taking up that mantle again any time soon.”

“Actually,” said Julian tentatively, hoping that he wasn’t about to shatter their recently-brokered truce. “Um, Kukulaka thinks you should know that there’s another way to make him feel better, too.”

“And what’s that?”

Julian’s reply came out as little more than a whisper.

“A good hug?”

Garak’s eyes settled on Julian’s face once more. “I don’t suppose…” he said slowly, “that Kukulaka knows if this… technique… would also be appreciated by Doctor Bashir?”

Julian could feel his cheeks growing warm. “Kukulaka has it on good authority that Doctor Bashir would really like a hug,” he replied, trying to keep his voice light.

“Even a Cardassian one?”

“Especially a Cardassian one.”

Emboldened by Garak’s response, Julian shifted himself closer, pulling Garak’s arm around him so that he could curl up against his chest, Kukulaka safely ensconced within his own arms. It was surprising how natural it felt, like Julian had always belonged at Garak’s side, and always would.

“What do I do now?” asked Garak.

“Just hold me,” Julian murmured. “For as long as you want – until you want to leave. Just… Just hold me.”

“My dear Doctor,” Garak murmured back, his rough fingers beginning to trace patterns over Julian’s arm. “I thought we’d agreed that I would not be leaving.”

[vampemoqueen]

Long Hard Road - A Night Road fic

A longfic inspired by the events of Night Road! My previous story Only Goddess Left Alive is the prologue to this fic. Tags will be updated with each chapter. It's also posted on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63464902/chapters/162618157

Tags: Blood and Gore, Violence, Trauma, Past Lives

April 2007

“When do we get to stop… doing this ?” Madi says as she strains herself carrying heavy water jugs up a hill, two in each hand. She digs her heels into the ground to travel up the slope as quickly as possible. Once she reaches the top, she drops the jugs harshly onto the ground to free the tension in her hands. 

Julian Sim, fellow neonate and frequent collaborator, preps the next set of water jugs onto a single dolly he brought specifically for this task. “When you start working smart and not hard,” he teased.

She responds with a grunt and a slouch after feeling the strain on her arms, quietly reminding herself to practice keeping up the ruse. 

She had created a new identity for herself to better adjust to unlife as an American Kindred. She became a Gangrel named Madi, a moniker she chose to avoid detection and unnecessary questions.

She learned quickly after coming back to the States that most American Kindred didn’t know about Clan Ravnos, nevermind that they were decimated by a world-changing event. She didn’t have the heart to keep telling the story over and over again, and decided she just wanted to be left alone. Her being an ordinary, unnoteworthy Gangrel was a lie that most Kindred accepted, including the Camarilla. 

Earlier in the year, she stumbled upon a regular stream of work in the Southwest that saved her a lot of trouble. The local Camarilla of Tucson needed neonates to do the court’s mundane work - hauling boxes and transporting water jugs across the desert. The Nosferatu lieutenant Dove paired her up with another neonate, a Banu Haqim named Julian Sim. He was a Chinese-Malaysian kid who was embraced overseas before moving to America, and his welcome package to the States was being shipped to the desert to learn about unlife the hard way.

One of their regular duties was to transport water jugs meant for migrants to an opening above the resting place of a slumbering elder. The goal is to keep the elder fed to prevent his awakening by sending migrants to their early demise. It’s tedious and miserable work that made Madi hate herself for how cruel it was. But it was work nonetheless and she needed the money.

Back on top of the hill, she looks over to Julian down below chuckling at the sight of a clumsy Madi struggling. She scowls. “I mean, when do we start getting real work? Work that actually pays and gets us some respect around here?”

“Never. Not unless you make something of yourself first. That’s how these Cam vampires operate. Reputation first, skills second.” Julian pushes the dolly up on the established path he flatted up previously up the hill. He walks it up slowly but steadily. “Currently we… have no reputation to speak of.”

Madi sighs and crosses her arms. “So how do we get said reputation? No one bats an eye when we’re following the Masquerade, and breaking it does us no good. How do we solve this conundrum?”

“We do something extraordinary during our free time. Something cool and attention grabbing. Likely something that’s not entirely legal or allowed to us by the Cam, but hey if it’ll end up benefiting them in the end, I’m sure they’ll learn to forgive us.” Julian takes his time to reach the top. He carefully unties the rope securing the jugs before placing them neatly by the entrance.

“I’m sure you have no shortage of ideas and schemes that’ll take years to take off. But I’d rather pay my rent sooner. I shouldn’t have to work paycheck to paycheck keeping an elder from eating this fucking town.” She waits for him to prep the dolly again before they descend together, traveling at a leisurely pace.

“Maybe if they knew what you really are and what you can do, they’ll put you to good use.” Julian, being her only friend in this lonely town, knew what clan she really belonged to. She confided in him at the same time he confided in her about his plans for the future- plans to right the world’s wrongs by thinking ahead. Without any concrete ideas, his loose ideas often went over her head. Julian, as much of a kidder as he was, always had his mind set on doing what was right instead of what was comfortable or easy.

Madi frowns and pauses in silence. She has the fear in her heart of being found out and misunderstood. It was an answer she didn’t want to hear. “I don’t want to be used, Julian. I just want to live and not have to hide anymore.”

Julian detects her discomfort and gives her a smile to assure her he means well. “Don’t worry, I’ll come up with something. I don’t want to keep doing this either, Madi. There’s definitely a better way forward, we just have to find it.”

To this simple response, she nods in agreement. She knows there isn’t much they could do as simple neonates, and that they would continue to suffer for a while. But it could never hurt to ponder and dream.

-----

December 1998

Madhuri had been a Kindred for a few months and it never stopped feeling surreal. She was living despite being one of the undead. She was awake and moving, and she did not feel like she was dead at all. She was not considered dead to her family, friends, or the rest of the world either. But even so, Ypotryll and Brian had instructed her to keep up the facade of being alive so she can act as a tiger in sheep’s clothing.

It was a strange feeling. Deep down she was still a young woman with dreams and ambitions despite her life taking an unexpected turn in recent times. She still had a desire to live and be human. Stuck with this moral dilemma, she went to Brian for advice.

Ypotryll was away from the estate again and she and Brian were alone. She found Brian in the courtyard sitting on a mat to meditate. She approached him slowly, and hovered around him until he opened his eyes and acknowledged her presence.

“Madhuri. Come sit with me.” He had resorted to speaking exclusively in Hindi now, the language he sounded the most natural in. He had no one left to impress. He waved for her to sit on the mat and face him. “What troubles you tonight?” 

“Everything, Brian. I don’t feel like myself. It feels like I am a ghost to myself looking at my body from the outside.” She cupped her face with her hands to feel how cold and lifeless she was. “Do you ever feel the same way?”

He looked down for a moment and took a conscious breath before looking back at Madhuri. “Yes. I have not gotten used to the sensation of being cold yet. Of having to drink blood instead of enjoying the taste of food. Of not being able to enjoy human company the same ever again. I am still learning to cope.” His tone of voice was calm, pensive, and slow, different from the entrepreneurial and excitable Brian he once was. 

Madhuri gave him a concerned frown for the both of them. “Have you learned any new tricks that might help?” She suggested, his tricks being the illusions he cast since being a mere ghoul. 

Brian thought to himself for a moment before responding. “I know a trick that might help soothe you. Care to learn?” 

She gave him a light smile and nodded. She copied Brian’s stance, crossed legs and hands resting on both knees. “Teach me the ways of chimerstry.”

He returned the smile. It usually lightened his spirits during the night to teach Madhuri instead of thinking back to what his life once was. “I’m going to teach you a concept that’s a little more challenging. Abstract thought. I’ll tell you a feeling that only you would know, and I want you to manifest that in yourself.”

Madhuri leaned forward with her mouth slightly agape. “…you mean like tricking myself? How is that even possible? What good would that even do for me?”

Brian was patient and unmoving. He understood her reservation. “It’s meant to give you peace of mind, or force your mind to panic in a dangerous situation if need be. You can manipulate our own state of mind as well as we can with the minds of others if your illusions are strong enough. Let’s try a simple one. Imagine the feeling of comfort. Think of the sensation itself and not what it would look like. What would that feel like?”

Madhuri moved back and straightened her position, pursing her lips and before closing her eyes. She repeated the beginning steps of summoning chimerstry: enter a light state of meditation before rousing the blood with an image in mind. In the past, she was taught to imagine literal images of objects- bowls of food, a sword, a cart right in front of her. But for the feeling of comfort, she assumed Brian didn’t want to see a blanket or a pillow. She took a risk and focused on an action that personally comforted her, not knowing what that would look like to him, if anything at all.

She took a breath in and imagined a pair of arms separate from her holding her from behind. The imaginary hands knead and squeeze her tired flesh, starting from her waist and moving up to underneath her breasts and then cupping the top of them before sliding to her ribs. Two more pairs of arms appeared to massage her neck and her hips respectively, loosening and sliding through her knotted muscles up and down her body. She let out a soft moan and a contented sigh, forgetting her problems for just a moment.

At the end of it, she summoned the arms away and felt relaxed and content. It seemed his trick had worked and she believed she really was massaged. She opened her eyes to tell Brian, only to find him with his legs uncrossed and his hand over his mouth. He appeared to be embarrassed and shocked, perhaps disgusted with what he had seen, whatever it was. Madhuri was struck by shame. “H-hey, what’s wrong? What did you see?”

He stayed silent for a moment until he found the courage to uncover his hand. “N-next time, don’t imagine ghostly arms to uhh… not in front of me, please.”

Madhuri was quick to go on the defensive. “W-wait, I wasn’t sure what I was doing! I didn’t mean to make it look like that I-“

Brian turned away and said nothing as he left. It was clear he did not want to expand any further and needed space. But Madhuri still chased him down, shouting excuses and apologies until he fled to his room and shut the door.

-----

Sometime in 2010

Madi and Julian are on the run. Earlier that evening, she helped Julian clear out his haven -  disassembling his tech, wiping all of his drives, taking the most valuable parts and metals from said tech and sorting them for resale later. All of his furniture and belongings that couldn't be used for survival had to stay behind; there was no time to waste. 

After loading the last of his things into an unmarked white van, Julian, all clad in black, pulls her aside for one last meeting. “We need to split up here. I’ll go North, you go South. I’ll be in Austin in a couple nights at the rendezvous point. Take this blue folder and business card; it’ll tell you where to go.” He quickly slips the blue folder from under his jacket to hers. “If I don’t see you, I’ll assume you couldn’t make it. I’m sure you’ll be fine, just don’t… don’t stress yourself out if you’re being chased. Make it out of here alive first.” 

Julian has never been good at speaking under pressure. Always the planner and organizer, if there is a sudden event or complication that wasn’t accounted for, he would buckle under stress and get sloppy. 

Madi knows he couldn’t have anticipated what had happened earlier that night. He especially didn’t take into account what Madi herself did to inject herself into this deadly scheme. It was going to be a legacy that would follow around forever, and neither of them would ever be prepared for it.

The most important thing now is that no one else could ever know what she had done. The Prince and his court are likely to discover the death within the night, and they have to make sure they’ll be far away enough to avoid their wraith. Or their judgment, in case the worst were to happen. “Julian… Do you think we’ll ever get to see each other again?” Madi takes out her burner phone from her pocket to quickly change out the SIM card for a new one. Her shaky hands struggle to peel back the cover of her Nokia brick to transfer the tiny cards. Adrenaline is pulsing through her veins. 

“I don’t know. But I get the feeling fate will bring us back together again. Let’s hope it’s with both of us alive. Take care, Madi. Thanks for everything and… I’m sorry.” Julian gives her one last sympathetic nod before rushing to get into his van. He peels out of the curb and speeds off into the night.

Madi stops to watch him leave until she can no longer see his van in the distance. A cold feeling of dread left behind by their separation grows into anxiety, and then fear. She hesitates to get into her vehicle, a 1990 Lincoln Town Car, and begins her own journey South.

She makes it to Route 10 when her heart starts beating frantically out in her chest. She grips the steering wheel tightly as her muscles strain against her ribs with each unnatural palpitation.  

She hears a voice in her head that is not her own, a soft and petite feminine voice whispering in a language she doesn’t understand. Aila, her spirit and vitae flowing freely within Madi’s system, threatens her soul while she attempts to find a home, like a rat burrowing violently into her brain. 

If Madi gives into the stress and the fear, buckles underneath the pressure and collapses, the Elder might not find her worthy anymore and choose to take over instead. 

Madi struggles to take control of the situation. She breathes to control the flow in her chest despite not needing the oxygen. Every second, every beat, every inhale and exhale was conscious and barely controlled within her shaking anxiety. If she slipped up and let too many beats pass, she could risk losing everything.

With her foot still on the gas, Madi closes her eyes shut to summon a sensory illusion to calm herself down. Invisible ice cold hands spread across her forehead, her neck, her back underneath her jacket and shirt to bring her temperature closer to zero. She opens her eyes to see the interior of the car turn into ice and her breaths turn into fog. She imagines she’s in a Wisconsin winter again and it has taken over the inside of her car. 

She makes a gracious smile and laughs in relief. ‘Home’ is a good place to go right now. Maybe she can drive to her old home and see her parents again! Tell them about everything that has happened and the hell she’s been through. Then, maybe they can start over and everything can be as it was before she left.

But it was never in the cards. Right as she thought she had control, her illusion goes haywire. The ice cold hands around her body suddenly turn violent, gripping her scalp and the skin on her face to peel back her eyes, cheeks, and mouth. Sharp tipped nails dig and burrow into them, strong enough to tear and fray her nerves. Blood doesn’t pour from the wounds; it’s not real, none of it is, but the phantom pain is enough to make her wince and yelp. 

She screams at top of her lungs at the faceless illusion. Get out of my head! Get out of my head!

[whumpsday]

this is not whump, but i wanted to talk about it due to the recent incident of a couple of hateful transphobes trying to infiltrate the whump community (and thankfully failing). it's nothing important, just me venting on some stuff they were saying. under a readmore in case that's not your jam. tw for discussion of religiously-justified transphobia

the "god doesn't make mistakes" argument for the eradication of trans people is soooo fucking dumb. transphobes who make this argument are so selective. like, if you were to be real general with it, you could argue that dyed hair (and people with dyed hair), even like- someone getting blonde highlights- should be JUST as morally reprehensible to them. but no, they specifically highlight trans people despite the fact that the logic they're using could apply to any number of things. because it's not actually about god, they're just using religion to justify their hate.

and the real kicker is there are TONS of devout christians who AREN'T transphobic, who are completely loving and accepting! i know at least 6 among my whump mutuals alone, and several more irl! it just makes it even more obvious they're attempting to use god to justify their hatred, which, while i am not a christian (i am a non-religious jew), kind of sounds to me like the opposite of what you're supposed to to? like wasn't jesus all about love and stuff? love thy neighbor???

i just hate it when people try to use religion to justify their bigotry like this. it's always so selective and obvious what they're doing. my love goes out to my fellow trans siblings on whumpblr, the christians on whumpblr who accept us as we are, and ESPECIALLY the trans christians whose faith and gender alike would be questioned by users like these two bigots. through this incident, we have undoubtedly proven ourselves a strong community of love that does not tolerate hatred.

in conclusion:

"God blessed me by making me transsesxual for the same reason God made wheat but not bread and fruit but not wine, so that humanity might share in the act of creation." - Julian K. Jarboe

[amarguerite]

Kinda loving the labor union plotline in The Gilded Age, which is not something I expected to say about a show that in season one had a whole episode devoted to the British method of table setting. Some spoilery musings under the cut…

My one quibble at first was that they were shying away from the brutality of the early efforts to stop labor disputes but then I realized:

1) this is not a show whose tone jibes well with honest depictions of historical violence. Last week’s attempt to show the frequencies of lynchings in Gilded Age Alabama had a weird tonal whiplash, even for a Julian Fellows show. Probably better not to go down that path!

2) George Russell is possibly the one gilded age robber baron— as the show shows his character— who would decide at the last minute he can’t bring himself to fire on striking workers because:

a) his method of strong arming people into doing what he wants is to talk them into it and fling money at the problem. When those don’t work he flounders and has a rare moment of self-doubt. The fact that he has to resort to physical violence clearly has him questioning his abilities and feeling deeply wrong. He wants to make the world bow to him through the force of his rhetoric.

b) he’s extremely out of touch (why aren’t the union leader’s kids in school, and instead also working at the mill?? Could it be that you created a company town Mr. Russell??? Could it be the poverty???) but… he’s also a self-made man, so seeing the actual conditions of his workers might actually make him change his mind

c) he’s utterly devoted to his family, to the tune of paying millions for an opera house and essentially kidnapping the director of the opera just so his wife (who hates opera) can get the box she wants. Seeing that his big enemy has a wife he ALSO loves, and children he protects probably struck a chord and threw him. I do think the big turning point for George was seeing the labor union leader push his son physically behind him, to protect him

I also got a real kick of Patrick “That’s Why We Build the Wall” Pagebooming out in a deep bass that they must fire on the striking workers or the whole social order would collapse. Not sure why this man has become The Character Actor to represent the Evils of Capitalism, but he does a great job of it!

[thebreakfastgenie]

Hereby requesting ☕️ for Deep Space 9 please! Do I need to be more specific about the topic or is that enough. The post wasn't super clear to me. If it needs to be more specific then I hereby request ☕️ for "which Billy Joel song would you most associate with Julian Bashir". Thank you fellow augment retcon hater :3

I know it's a cold take to say Deep Space 9 is the best Trek these days but the thing is it's true!!! My favorite thing about DS9 is the way it deconstructs the utopian vision of the Federation presented to us a little by TOS but a lot by TNG. I think that's why it's been controversial, but I am very firmly team DS9 on this one. But I also think DS9 is better for being an installment in an existing franchise. Like DS9 would be great anyway, but DS9 existing in response to TOS and TNG adds a certain je ne sais quoi.

Also Julian Bashir is such an amazing character and I genuinely don't understand why so many people didn't appreciate that from the beginning. He starts out naive and genuinely trying to do good. There are so many season 1 Julian Bashirs in graduate schools. His care is genuine, but he's privileged and naive and he comes on too strong. So yes, he's annoying to the people around him, but Siddig is such a great actor, Julian's warmth and genuine care come across and it makes him likable! That's why everyone grows to like him! The initial dynamic between Julian and Kira lives rent-free in my head because it's something you see in real life all the time. He comes from this privileged place (the Federation) with a real desire to help and no idea what life is actually like for Bajorans. And they get to know each other as people. It's great!!!!! And then Julian's big friendship being with O'Brien, the working class, enlisted war veteran adds to that theme. I think in some ways Julian represents the Federation, coming into contact with a situation that really challenges its principles.

I know we've talked about this before but one of things I really hate about the augment retcon is the implication that he asked for the DS9 posting because he needed to be inconspicuous to hide his augmentation. I categorically reject that. That moment in the pilot where the audience and the characters assume he was assigned to DS9 because he was kind of hapless and then he says he could have had his pick of any assignment and he chose Deep Space 9 is crucial. His reasoning is crucial, too, he wanted to do frontier medicine! He thought it would be an exciting adventure! He thought he could do the most good there! And he did do a lot of good, but he also learned a lot about the realities of war. I will not give that up for anything. That's why he chose DS9, not augmentation, full stop.

I think there is probably a better answer but I'm failing to come up with it so for now, Half a Mile Away is Julian and O'Brien holosuite hang vibes.

[kittenwriter]

Writer Interview Tag Game-- @wisteria-lodge has tagged me! (Oooh, look, I get to play!)

How many works do you have on ao3? So are we counting Escapees or Exiles as one or twenty-four? The answer is either 33 or 9, plus my FFFX assignment which is posted and complete but as yet unrevealed.

What's your total AO3 word count? 373,393

Your top 5 stories by kudos?

Toughened Love (Grimm, Nick/Monroe)

To All My Fellow Human Beings

The End of the Beginning

Only Human

According to My Judgment and Means

What I find interesting here is that Toughed Love has more than twice the kudos of the next one down-- it is far and away the most popular thing I've ever written by kudos. Apparently Grimm fandom has a lot of enthusiasm. (Ironically I am not actually active in Grimm fandom; that was a one-off exchange pinch hit which turned out incredibly well.)

And of course everything else on that list is various parts of Escapees or Exiles.

Do you respond to comments? Always. I like the social interaction, and to chat. Sometimes people even follow me back to Tumblr!

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? Duty of Care (Emelan, Niko & Tris), another exchange fic. I'm pretty much only going to write truly angsty endings in response to an exchange prompt; it's not my natural milieu. But I am very pleased with how it came out-- one of the general likes listed in the prompt was stories "about" characters who never actually appear on the page, and I took that and ran with it. (The prompted character was Tris. It is a character study of both Tris and Niko, but Tris never actually shows up.) This is really highlighting just how much exchanges have stretched my range over the last year.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending? Toughened Love again; it's a straight-up romance and I think the only thing I have with an unequivocally happy ending. (Although if you take it on its own, A Pheromone, Perhaps? is as close to straight-up comedy as you can get on Terok Nor.)

Do you write crossovers? I don't have any theoretical objections but I've never actually done one and the closest I have to a concept for one is a fusion that's more of a "takes heavy inspiration" than a straight-up fusion.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? There was the "trans people won't exist in the future because magical gender surgery so you're just including it for needless angst" incident and there was that person who was upset that I only tagged "Trans Julian Bashir" on installments where his transition comes up in some way because they felt I had tricked them when they went back to the beginning of the series for they do not like to read trans people and tags were supposed to help them avoid doing it.

Other than that, no.

Do you write smut? Most of the smut is anon and I don't admit to it, but I do have Blood Ties with its very, very niche pregnant Garak Siskarak (and eventually Garashir) smut.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of? Is that a thing people are doing now?

Have you ever had a fic translated? Also not that I'm aware of.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, and I don't think that would work given how I write. I don't even have betas.

What's a wip that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? I mean, I always intend to finish things eventually. The thing that is probably least likely to be finished is the HP Wrong Boy Who Lived deconstruction/reimagining, which won't be posted until at least First Year is finished and I have other stuff I want to write first. (I have 50k words and we have gotten to sorting first year and portions of that need a substantial rewrite and added backstory. I am not Robert Jordan; there is such a thing as too expansive a story for me to actually pull out of my head and onto the paper.)

What are your writing strengths? Dialogue. I've remarked before that all of my formal creative writing training was for plays and it shows. I was a theater writer long before I was a fiction writer. I'm getting better at the other stuff, but dialogue and character are always going to be the things I'm best at.

What are your writing weaknesses? Descriptions, and actions in general. My stories tend to be conversations broken up by internal monologue; it's very easy for me to fall prey to the floating white room problem if I don't actively take steps to avoid it, and even then one of the things that makes fic easier for me is that my readers presumably know already what the setting looks like so I don't have to describe it.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? Are we talking real languages or conlangs? Real languages I don't do because it would have to be one I was confident about-- if I ever get past my very partial understanding of written French, I may include dialogue in French. Conlangs... I'm doing some serious narrative gymnastics to avoid giving more than a word here or there in Bajoran or Kardasi while also delving into the linguistic differences between Bajoran, Kardasi, and Federation Standard far more deeply than is usual for fic.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to? Sanders Sides-- I have paragrah-long rough sketches of a few different takes on college and high school AUs for them. (I'm particularly amused by the idea of the other three all meeting Virgil separately and talking about him with each other and not realizing he's the same guy until some ways into the fic.) Also at some point I want to write Indiana Jones's TA dealing with the academic problems in working for someone ready to go off on Adventures at a moment's notice. And someday I really, really am going to give us the War of the Spark we deserve. (Magic, if anyone's wondering the fandom there.)

That was fun. No pressure, but... @dreamerdrop @sapphosewrites @walkingstackofbooks, anyone want to play?

[themistresofmayhem]

Thoughts on your fellow icons? (+those over in Singapore)

"This one is gonna be lengthy so sit tight!".

"Me and Puddin' are off and on, depends on the situation really. Sometimes we're thriving and the other..not so much. But hey, beggers can't be choosers! I get along with Julian pretty well, he let's Me have early movie access sometimes. Ravinski..not so much. But I adore his films! The Doc doesn't mind me, only when I get loud, Cindy LOVES to hang around me though! I teach her a few things I know. With Lucky– We tease eachother with little lovey dovey gifts. Just last week she gave me a full bouquet of these Red Lillies! We might be able to actually hit it off..".

She cleared her throat.

"ANYWAYS! Miss Scrict and I don't really talk, only when we gotta. She makes good tea though. Boss man is so boring! But it's fun when he lets me get my hands dirty! Now for the newer additions! Pumpkin Lord and I immediately clicked, like little building bricks! For the most eh..recent three.".

Her expression became unreadable. Annoyed, scared, angry? She was frustrated.

"When oddfellow came back, it was not fun for me and Jack. I've never seen the guy so wide eyed. The fact we gotta work with him again makes my head hurt. I remember him yapping about how he liked my old outfit..like the old old one for some fucking reason. Hate his ass. SINIST3R and SURR3AL– we don't get along. They have some relation with Adaru, but I dunno why they don't really like me. Adaru told me it's nothing to worry about..but damn are they tall and shockingly creepy."

She moved a loose hair from her face, letting out a sigh.

"Onto Singapore, Me amd Jack get along with the Sins just fine! I like the link haired one! Gideon is really cool, but we haven't talked much. Wish we could talk more."

[adamsvanrhijn]

Why is the whole internet saying JF can't write gay characters? Or are people just expecting him to be someone who does? Is this just because Thomas Barrow isn't generally considered to be good representation of a gay man? What's the issue with Oscar then? No hate to anyone here, I just don't quite understand what's going on. I've found Oscar a pretty good character who has life outside of being gay too.

Because Oscar is the only gay main character on the show, everyone who wants him to be Representation has conflicting wants (ditto with Thomas), so those people are judging Julian Fellowes's actual level of skill in writing gay characters specifically on a variety of not-agreed-upon criteria

Personally I think Julian Fellowes writes gay characters fine, Thomas included. They are believable resonant people to me.

Given how many people I see saying this who LIKE Thomas and/or Oscar, and so presumably do find resonance there, I think the criticism would be better described as of the story JF chooses to tell with his gay characters, which may or may not be enjoyable/realistic/historically accurate/What Is Needed On Television Right Now/whatever, to some people's taste.

I personally think there is more room for discussion of skill there. But at the same time, many times I think people are judging his gay characters and their stories differently than they judge his other characters, whose stories can also be melodramatic and tragic and cliche and trite or torturous or whatever, or even if they do judge those other stories, they do not necessarily draw a connection between the gay character's story and those stories or see them as on the same plane.

I highly recommend anyone who is interested in JF's writing & authorial intent to read the Downton Abbey S1-S3 scriptbooks!

[bitletsanddrabbles]

Downton S7: My One Fear

Nothing can ruin Downton Abbey for me.

Nothing.

It exists and I love it. If more comes along and I don't love it, it does not have to exist in my world. I can ignore it. I can say 'my Downton ends at the second movie, thank you' and be perfectly happy rewatching the parts I like. And honestly, there are lots of things they can do that I would still enjoy. I saw one person post that apparently they'd heard the rumor it actually is WWII era and that could be cool. It could focus more on the kids, etc. I wouldn't even mind that Thomas wasn't there because let's be honest - there was always the possibility that Rob would want to stop doing it, same as the other people who would not renew contracts. As long as they wrote the character out by sending him off into the sunset with a nice boyfriend rather than, oh, dying of a perfectly preventable disease or winding up smashed under a car, I'd be good. If that's what happens, I will be good.

Downton Abbey being ruined is not what I'm afraid of.

I'm afraid of the fandom being ruined.

That can happen and there are lots of people who can do it. They're called 'other fans'. They've already made me feel - repeatedly, for years - like it would be better for me to pack up and leave. They've already sank a ship I liked by deciding "we're not going to be fun anymore, and if anyone complains about it, we're going to tell them they're nasty and blame a different group for it, haha we are invincible…and miserable woe is us". They've already made me nervous about posting certain fics without big, honestly kinda off putting author's notes telling people not to use my comments to simply bitch about what they don't like while pretending they're complimenting my fiction.

I am here to enjoy Downton Abbey. Period. End stop.

It seems like a lot of other people are here to hate it, or at least to find every conceivable reason to hate Julian Fellowes.

If Rob's not in it, even if it's his decision and he somehow managed to send out a hand written, personalized letter explaining the decision to every Thomas fan on the planet, I would bet the mortgage that I still get buried in a tidal wave of "here's more proof that JF is a homophobe why does he even write gay people he sucks at it!" I mean, okay, that gay person made me feel represented in a way no other gay character ever has and his actor's received fan mail from people in unsafe situations saying that character gave them someone to connect to, but that's not important. That was an accident and JF would probably be horrified if he knew he'd done something nice for us. All of the places he said he liked Thomas, Thomas was supposed to be sympathetic, those were just a cover, right? Right? That's how this works?

If Rob is in it and something's happened with his relationship to Guy because Dominic West wouldn't sign on Julian Fellowes is the King of Homophobes, it's going to be a ton of "See? He can't let Thomas have happy things! Of course he can't let Thomas have happy things! We are vindicated in our dislike!" We'll probably even see that from the people going "Oh good, he's back and single now we'll have an easier time getting him back with (Phillip/Edward/Jimmy/Richard) - his TRUE LOVE!" Because the canon just worked in your favor, but that has to be an accident, because Julian Fellowes sucks.

And people can't just ignore the new stuff. We have so much proof of that! It's beyond our collective ability to just say "Yeah, I'm not interested in this, I'm just going to ignore it" if it is remotely connected to something that does interest you. Ignoring a pairing between characters you're not interested in (which lots of us do) is different from ignoring a pairing you don't like with a character you do (which a lot of us…don't). We can't just say "I didn't like that film or that ship, so I'm going to ignore it's existence and keep writing fiction based on what I like", we have to bring up how much we don't like that film/ship/Julian Fellowes every chance we get. That in turn makes it impossible to ignore the complaining and just enjoy the thing you like.

Seriously, there's one person I want to miss, but I can't because every time I made a post that could be construed as saying something nice about JF, they had to comment (or better yet reblog it) with a hand wave of agreement and then copious assurance that JF is a horrible person and they know and acknowledge the fact and won't let anyone else forget!

So if S7 comes along and people don't like it, that dislike is going to become what the fandom is about. If some people like it and some don't, it's going to be about the two groups arguing (and undoubtedly blaming the conflict on the other side) because they refuse to ignore each other.

And I don't want that.

That is not what inspires me to write fanfiction, that is what inspires me to napalm my blog and haul all of my work off of Ao3.

I don't want to scroll through a dashboard's worth of posts discussing why anything we don't like is Julian Fellowes's fault, even if it was more likely Gareth Neame's or the director's or the actor's or the costume department's. I don't want all of my Ao3 comments to suddenly be full of "Oh good, you fixed that thing that JF did wrong" or "Yay! A piece that rejects JF's dreadful next installment!" and other things that don't actually have anything to do with why I write or what I'm doing with my writing or even really compliment what I've done.

But I can't create in a bubble. I need the interaction and good feedback to be inspired and to learn and grow.

I want to be able to enjoy a thing I like with other people that like it.

And after having a good chunk of the people I associate with - and even more of the writers I used to enjoy - decide post movie two that being fun and enjoyable to interact with was absolutely for the birds, thank you very much, I'm really pretty afraid I'm not going to have anyone to talk to.

[thechangeling]

1, 2, 20, 22 for the tsc ask game

(Although I’m already pretty sure 20 is Ty for you)

1. Fave tsc series: Definitely tda. I love kitty and kierarktina. I like Emma a lot in LM (less so in the others,) I like Julian in places. I think the plot of the first two books is cool. I've found a new appreciation for Livvy. I like Dru. I really love the Blackthirn family dynamic. Honestly I could go on.

2. Least favorite series: tmi definitely. There's just so much yikes about those books and I really am not the biggest fan of Jace. Granted the plot was actually pretty solid, but tmi just annoys me.

20: Character you relate to the most: Honestly a year ago I would have said Ty without a doubt. But now idk. I definitely still relate to him, but I also find myself really relating to Matthew, even though I dislike a lot of the way CC chose to write his character. As an alcoholic and as someone who struggles so deeply with emotional and personal relationships, I see a lot of myself in him. I also know a lot of ppl who have bpd in the fandom have brought up him potentially having it, and to me that makes sense. I'm also someone who has a lot of those traits even though I've never been formally diagnosed.

I also heavily relate to Kieran, my fellow enneagram four.

22. Popular character you dislike: *gets up on my dyke soapbox* I don't like Jace Herondale. Yes I am aware he is traumatizedTM and probably has cptsd. As someone who is also vv traumatized and has terrible coping mechanisms, I get it. I can sympathize. But I still don't like him. I really don't love the way so many people obsess over a character who, if he was a woman, would be getting so much hate and vitriol. And this shit is gendered, I'm sorry. The way society responds to disability and mental illness is very gendered and you can't ignore that.

Anyways, I have compassion and sympathy for men like Jace. But my compassion can only go so far when I need to be worrying about myself and other people of marginalized genders first. Not to mention how men like Jace (white, straight, cis) rarely seem have compassion and sympathy for me.

Also not to mention a lot of my problems with Jace aren't even disability related. Sometimes he's just a dick. And yeah I get it, growth and evolution, character development blah blah blah. I don't care, I still find him annoying. Not to mention how I have IssuesTM with the way that's handled as well as the trauma of other characters but thats a whole other thing.

[papillon82fluttersby]

Famous Five Art Nostalgia #04 – Part 3

Introductory post

Masterpost

A word of warning: this one is… an experience. Strap on your seatbelt and get ready for a wild ride!

⛰️🧺🌫️ Five Go to Smuggler's Top – Le Club des Cinq en vacances

Original publication date: 1945 (UK), 1956 (France)

(Cover art by Umberto Nonna, 1981)

Plot summary (adapted from Wikipedia):

Siblings Julian, Dick and Anne are spending the Easter school holidays with their cousin George at her parents’ house, Kirrin Cottage. After a tree falls on the house, the four children are sent to Smuggler's Top, the home of Mr Lenoir, a fellow-scientist of George's father, Uncle Quentin. Smuggler's Top is a queer house at the summit of an old hilltop coastal town, partly surrounded by dangerous marsh.

(Starting right away with some Nonna-drama! Frankly, wtf is this picture doing in this part of the book? Granted, the Five have been discussing the dangers of the marsh with their driver, who warned them not to let Timmy wander lest he falls in. But this picture clearly illustrates the final scene of the book where Timmy does get sucked into the mud. Assuming that the artist wanted to draw this picture in colour, and since the colour illustrations are always placed in first and last position, he may have moved it to fit it in? Mmh, possibly... 🤔 On a different topic, why does Uncle Quentin (if that’s even him?) look like the undead from a zombie apocalypse?! 🧟)

The children are welcomed by Pierre Lenoir a.k.a. Sooty (Julian's and Dick's schoolmate and Mr Lenoir's stepson) and his half-sister Marybelle. Mr Lenoir hates dogs, so George's dog Timmy is hidden in a secret passage.

One night, the boys spot a light flashing in the house's tower. They suspect the signaller may be Block, the house's sinister, apparently deaf manservant, but he appears to be sleeping in his bedroom at the time.

(Sooty sneaks into Block’s room to check if he’s actually sleeping in his bed or if he might be the mysterious signaller currently in the tower... Now wait just a goddarn second. The whole motherloving plot twist is that, in this scene, Sooty is seeing a decoy made with a ball and a pillow occupying Block’s bed, while Block himself is indeed sending signals from the tower. THIS DOES NOT LOOK LIKE A DECOY, THIS ILLUSTRATION MAKES NO FREAKING SENSE 😭😭😭)

Uncle Quentin comes to stay with them and intends to sell Mr Lenoir a plan for draining the marsh. Uncle Quentin’s arrival disrupts the kids’ sleeping arrangements, as well as their trick for sneaking Timmy in and out of the house for walks. As George tries to discreetly remove Timmy from his current hiding place, she gets caught in Mr Lenoir’s office, which the children are forbidden to enter. She gets locked up in her room as a punishment, although Sooty later shows her a way to sneak out and finally rescue Timmy.

(George waits for Mr Lenoir to fall asleep so she can get Timmy out of his current hiding place)

During the night, Uncle Quentin is kidnapped, along with Sooty, by a local smuggler named Mr Barling, who fears the planned draining of the marsh will bring an end to his smuggling business.

The children find another secret underground passage, leading to where Sooty and Uncle Quentin are being held captive by Barling and his henchman, who have been assisted by Block. Timmy attacks the kidnappers, allowing the captives and the children to escape.

(The good news is, George has found the secret passage! The bad news, well…) [I actually like this picture a lot, in all its over-dramatic glory; I think it illustrates well George's impulsiveness in jumping up and down the secret panel]

The police arrive to capture the smugglers. Outside the tunnels, Timmy is almost sucked down into the marsh but is saved by Uncle Quentin, assisted by Julian.

(Okay, so I think this is Uncle Quentin, but what is this picture doing at the end of the book? I don’t recall a moment where he’s reading a letter at Smuggler’s T– Oooooooh I get it. 😮💡The two colour illustrations were swapped. So this one is from an early chapter when Quentin receives the letter inviting the children to Smuggler’s Top, and the one with Timmy struggling in the marsh should be here. Welp. Congrats, Mr Nonna. That was a good way of turning me cuckoo. 🤪)

~~~~~~

If you have read this far, I want to shake your hand and thank you for your dedication in going through this whole craziness with me. 🤝

Here's hoping that I haven't lost you and will see you next time! 😉

[squipy]

You guys ever take a look back at old ocs you made and wonder...."wow this sucks" well that's me I'm taking one of my most popular oca on amino *thunder crackling boom boom* and making it more my style. Sooo what are we working with

Oh boy.... so ima split this up into sections and this is going to be a long post so strap in

The orginal:

Before we jump into fixing this thing let's look at what I wrote when I was a child

Just say he/they... also if you wanted to make him gay just make him fruity also pus...fucjing puss and boots wanna be

I actally don't hate this section too much however I would change crazy tbh more of just didn't care had no fear he was brave

You didn't know what kinky was...also he's not sinful probably lust instead of greed tbh

Wip...your telling me my most popular oc Never had a backstory yeah were fixing that

What is wrong:

So besides this guy being your owo femboy arcitice because I didn't realize that this oc is very much a streotype I also had to deal with the rules and such on how this amino worked (don't even get me started on the abalism) so now that I'm older,have no rules to follow let's make a new oc. They also use a face claim and sense I can't draw still we luckily now have things like gatcha club and picrew

The revamp:

Name: Julian Netherwood

Age: premently 27 (technically 323)

Gender: male

Pronouns: he/him

Sexuality: homoflexible

Birthday: March 8th 1693

Death day: July 19th 1720

Languages: English,Spanish some French

Postive traits: brave,open minded,persuasive,crafty,

Negative: sly,possessive,greedy,lustful,wild emotions,stubborn

Likes: cats,ships,ocean,mythology,swords,writing,people

Dislikes: storms,closed spaces,being alone

Appearance:

I'm not good at gatcha....

Backstory:

Julian was born into a poor household, and it didn’t help. He was a rather hyper child, always getting into trouble. Due to this, Julian felt like a burden onto his family, making him run away and join a group of pirates. He finally felt like he belonged to a group that actually wanted him, and he was a damn good pirate too, becoming a master at the sword and defending his crew until the day it got too much. In an act of sacrifice, he was killed by a group of British guards as he used himself as a distraction so his crew could get away. This of course blessed him into Valhalla, where he learned he was a child of hornn. At first, spending days in the hotel was fun, but after years and years, Julian was brought back to that feeling of being unwanted and unable to do what he wanted; this place wasn’t for him. So he snuck out, joining a group of fellow Norse descendants to bring on the end of the world. At first, he didn’t like it, but the feeling of belonging somewhere overtook his feelings of mercy for the world…

[carsonfatboobs]

🌟✨🕯 Downtown abbey season 6 isn’t real it can’t hurt me ✨🕯🌟

[lordarsonizzzzt]

Hi, I don't know if the requests are open, if they aren't then feel free to ignore. I wanted to know if you could write about Clef, Bright, Iceberg, Kondraki and Glass with an S/O who can turn water into wine

Reader is Jesus' sibling lmao

SCP STAFF WITH A READER THAT CAN TURN WATER INTO WINE

CHARACTERS: ALTO CLEF, JACK BRIGHT, JULIAN 'ICEBERG', BENJAMIN KONDRAKI, SIMON GLASS

DR CLEF

✧ TBF, you are probably a reality bender if you can do that, so you are probably better if you are not around him.

✧ HOWEVER, maybe in a party he is going to be a little nicer to you while he casually hands you a six pack of water bottles.

✧ The few times you two speak is when Clef aks you to turn a water dispenser into a wine dispenser.

✧ Will use you as a tool, not a fan of people that can bend reality but your ability is cool.

DR BRIGHT

✷ A big fan of wine, but he won't use you like a tool, he has experience with that and it's not pretty.

✷ If you want to give him a gift, do the trick in front of him he will be SO amazed and happy.

✷ He would invite you to watch dumb soap operas with wine when it rains, really classy guy.

✷ The one that is going to treat you like an actual person and not someone who has an anomaly.

✷ If doing that causes any effects on you, like getting tired or it makes you dizzy or whatever he will control you quite often so you don't do it, hell he's a site director he may ORDER you to not do it.

DR ICEBERG

❄︎ 'That's cool, don't talk to me'

❄︎ This guy wants to have little to no interaction with anomalies, even if you are a fellow doctor.

❄︎ He would tease you about being Jesus kid/sibling, at first it was funny, but he is going to do it all the damn time.

❄︎ Would come into your office with a glass of water and just look at you, waiting for you to do your magic.

❄︎ He is probably not going to talk to you a lot anyways, if you are one of the assholes that constantly gives him MORE paperwork he will make you become Jesus and he'll be the romans.

❄︎ If you are not, however, and if you try hard enough, maybe you two can become friends.

DR KONDRAKI

✩ Oh not this guy.

✩ Is amazed by what you do, and he likes alcohol, and oh! what a surprise, he has a gallon of water here... You wouldn't mind turning it into wine, would you?

✩ An asshole, but would respect you a little because that's one useful ability.

✩ Get on his good side and he'll get you days off.

✩ You are probably going to be hated by Draven tho, please don't give alcohol to his dad, it's already bad enough.

DR GLASS

✺ THE ONLY ONE THAT IS NORMAL ABOUT IT.

✺ Won't ask you to do it for him, and will tell you that maybe it's for the better if you keep this as a secret because many doctors will try to take advantage of you.

✺ If you do it for him as a gift, he is going to be thankful but it's not neccesary.

✺ Eventually forgets about this fact about you, he's not always around doctors outside his therapy sesions as he prefers to stay on his cozy lil office.

✺ Would ask you if you have any relation with Jesus tho.