#i know i am being unreasonable but still its not easy to deal with

[clownpassing]

god i just wanna get faded and melt into my music today is so much

[words-with-wren]

@chrumblr-whumblr Day Two: Kneeling

It's been a WHILE since I sat down to watch a Fifth Doctor episode, but i HAVE been listening to some audio dramas so he came pretty easily. and fun. The plot makes absolutely no sense but it's 10pm and i've been out all day so. deal :D

Fandom: Doctor who (Fifth Doctor Era)

Word count: 1,271

__

It was surprisingly easy to tune out the droning monologue of the big bad leader in front of him. The Doctor stared at the smooth stone under his knees, noting with interest the grain of the tile. It wasn’t a material he recognised immediately, and the pattern of it was enough to draw his attention. 

Certainly a lot more than whatever that guy was talking out. Something about world domination and blowing everything up. The Doctor didn’t really think it was important, considering the task he had set Nyssa and Adric off to do. 

Hopefully they would be on time. It was getting rather uncomfortable kneeling on this cold, stone floor. And the blood on his head was starting to itch. 

He shifted, adjusting his weight on his legs and bracing himself with his hands on his knees. The monologue stopped momentarily. 

“Did I say you could move?” the man demanded, glaring down at the Doctor. Though man was being generous--really, he was an artificial echo. Fascinating technology on this planet; instead of simply mourning their old leaders, they would create artificial copies of them, so their wisdom and experience could be passed on. 

It was an interesting idea, and at first seemingly good. But sometimes those artificial echos got a little too big for their boots, and ended up forcing strangers just trying to be helpful onto their knees in front of them. 

There was also probably some ethical things to explore in there, but the Doctor figured it was better to save those when he wasn’t forced to his knees in front of whatever this program was. 

“Oh, I am sorry,” he said, bowing his head again. The ego on this program was impressive. Or was that just part of the initial personality? Knowing the dictatorial leader types he’d run into, it could easily be that one. “It’s just incredibly uncomfortable here, you know.” 

The creature in front of him apparently didn’t know. It launched right back into its monologue, and the Doctor found himself wishing he’d given Adric a shorter time frame. 

It was becoming increasingly difficult to stay upright, a fact that he was valiantly attempting to ignore. Head wounds could be tricky, and he was acutely aware he was sporting one currently. Not to mention the fatigue he was starting to experience. He’d been kneeling here for almost an hour. 

Something flickered in front of him, a faint blue light and he hid a grin. Finally. Thankfully they had remembered to activate the shield, he’d been a little worried about that. But he should know by now he could trust his younger friends. 

Not long now. He shut his eyes and counted, counting down from ten. 

At zero the world exploded exactly on time. 

The flickering blue shield in front of him kept the worst of the explosions away from the Doctor, but he still felt the wind whipping around him. Rubble and stone and bits of machinery shattered, the world exploring in sound and light. 

He squeezed his eyes, turning his head away from the center of the explosion--directly under the control panel of that strange, long dead artificial king. 

And then the world was silent. The shield dropped and he let out a long breath, collapsing forward and catching himself on his hands. For a moment, he just crouched there, finding it unreasonably difficult to breathe for a moment. 

The rubble was still settling, and he heard the world shift and crunch around him. If all had gone according to plan, the others would be waiting for him at the TARDIS. 

He blinked his eyes open, raising a hand to wipe blood and dust off his forehead. Suddenly, he felt like standing was beyond him--now he wasn’t in danger of being murdered for moving, he couldn't seem to find it in him to move. 

He felt strangely dizzy and for a moment he wondered if any of the stray bits of rubble had hit him. But the shield had done its job well--probably just exhaustion and bloodloss. Nothing a few hours in the TARDIS’ med bay wouldn’t fix. 

He just…needed to get there. 

“Come on, Doctor,” he muttered to himself. He still couldn’t quite convince himself to move. So he dropped fully to the ground instead, feeling his cheek press against the cold stone floor. 

The pattern hadn’t been damaged--it had been protected by the same shield that had protected him. There was something undeniably satisfying about that, though it was very difficult to properly analyse the pattern when his face was pressed up against it. 

“Doctor!” 

Someone was calling his name. He tried to push himself up again, and managed it partially. Now he was back to kneeling, legs protesting loudly. He muttered at them to stop that. “Doctor!” 

It was Tegan, he realised. A moment latter, she appeared, scrambling over the rubble. He’d always been rather impressed at how much she got done in those heels. 

“There you are!” She half slid down the rubble that used to be the wall. Behind her, the Doctor noticed for the first time the landscape outside, rolling fields and a river making its way through. 

“Doctor? You alright?” Tegan was standing in front of him now, and the Doctor blinked up at her, still on his knees. Standing up seemed a bit beyond him right now. Give him a few minutes. 

“Hello, Tegan,” he muttered. “They timed it perfectly.” 

“Yeah, seems like they got it all sorted,” Tegan said. She frowned down at him. “They’re waiting back at the TARDIS.” 

“Yes well. Give me just a moment.” He shut his eyes again, the world spinning in front of him for a moment. Maybe that headwound was more serious than he had first thought. 

“You alright?” Tegan asked. 

“Oh, yes, quite alright.” 

“Yeah, you sure look it,” Tegan muttered sarcastically. “Come on.” She grabbed at his arm, and her warm touch roused the Doctor enough to make it to his feet. Tegan stepped back and he grinned at her. 

“See, perfectly alright.” 

He took a step forward and the world spun and twisted. Tegan caught him before he slammed into the ground, grabbing his arm and pulling it over her shoulder. 

“I can see that,” she said. “You are an idiot.” 

“Thanks,” the Doctor muttered. 

“I mean it,” Tegan said. She started walking, and with her help the Doctor managed to move his aching legs they way they were mostly supposed to be. It was very inconvenient when legs stopped working. Not recommended, really slowed down the day. 

“No real harm done,” he protested. Tegan snorted. She really was very good at snorting like that. 

“Have you seen yourself recently?” she asked mildly. 

“Usually I’m not in the habit of looking at myself. Seems a bit existential, you know.” 

Tegan sighed heavily, helping him scramble over the rubble. He was mostly able to keep himself moving, but was quietly very grateful for Tegan’s help. And that she had come back for him. 

“You look a right state,” Tegan said. “Blood and gore and everything.” 

“Doesn’t sound far off how I feel,” the Doctor admitted. He could finally make out the TARDIS, not far away, it’s comfortingly familiar blue standing out in the green fields and grey ruins. Nyssa was standing in the doorway, concern clear on her face. The Doctor didn’t exactly relish the quiet lecture he was anticipating from her. “Thank you,” he added to Tegan as she watched him carefully make his way out of the last of the rubble. 

Still swaying slightly, his legs stiff and sore, he followed her back home. 

[ina-nis]

"Meet me in the middle," says the unjust man. You take a step towards him, he takes a step back. "Meet me in the middle," says the unjust man.

I’ve been thinking about this, as I feel I’m “stuck” in the last step of recovery from AvPD, because of all these uncomfortable feelings that, somehow, don’t compare to the deep and old loneliness.

I prefer the loneliness.

Its pain is familiar, predictable and, obviously, doesn’t depend on anything or anyone else.

I understand my high standards and very strict filters with which I navigate social spaces don’t quite work in my favour - I’m probably missing many opportunities to connect!

At the same time, from watching and experiencing, people seem to want an easy love, something stress-free, and that’s what causes piss poor communication and absolutely awful issues down the line. Relationships are not always easy and they definitely can be really hard for someone mentally ill.

I want an easy love too, something stress-free, who doesn’t?

Now... who’s willing to put on the effort for that to happen? Because these kinds of connections don’t manifest themselves into existence. It takes work, sometimes a lot of work.

I take a look at my opportunities for connections and it’s a lot of really annoying things, really unfulfilling things and uhh... I’m supposed to settle for that and work through it - after all, there’s no perfect relationships and no perfect partners, etc - but 10 out of 10 times, I follow my guts (I try not to rely on that too much, considering trauma and stuff) and end up dodging a bullet.

No, thanks, I prefer very much to stay and remain single if the alternative is an absolute dogshit relationship. At this point, the bare minimum for me is communication, and that seems like an impossible feat for others.

I will not beg for scraps of attention, I will not deal with a relationship where I’ll not feel prioritized because of other person’s job or something (if all you have time for is work, I don’t want that for my life, even though I understand people might not have a choice. Well, I do, I’ll choose my full-time loneliness over a part-time relationship), I will not feel safe in a connection with someone in a established relationship (like I said a million times: I’m not fit to be a backup plan, a secondary or a convenience), I will not feel safe in a casual relationship either, the list goes on...

Things I have talked about exhaustively, things I kept second-guessing myself and thinking that, maybe, I’m being too harsh and that’s why I’m still single and don’t have local friends etc... and then I fact-check everything just to have the reassurance that, no, I’m not asking for too much and it’s not like I’m being unreasonable. I have needs and things I wish to do, I want for something to go a certain way, it’s not wrong or a bad thing.

Why are the compromises always so one-sided?

Why is it always on their terms?

Why when I speak up and put all these issues on the table, that’s too much and I’m being too difficult?

“I want to get better” means I want to get better relationships too. Half-assing anything never worked, why would I expect that to work now, when I know better and I’m not willing to put up with crap?

Why is it me that has to step on their level? Why can’t they try to make an effort to get on mine?

Why am I the one supposed to meet the other in the middle?

Hmm...

I prefer the loneliness, really.

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Hellooo id like to request matchups for Genshin Impact, MHA and Obey me! One of the brothers for Obey Me and a boi for the other two if thats okay <33

General stuff/Appearance

The names Jade, I'm female (she/her), 17 years old, straight, zodiac is pisces and mbti is intp. Im relatively short (160cm, idk what that is in feet Im European :,)) maybe 5'3??)). My parents are from Turkey but I was born in Austria so somehow I can speak 6 languages now- My skin tone is comparable to toast (lmao its a bit darker then toast but i am pretty pale), I have a diamond shaped head with sharp facial features, my hair is straight and dark brown with lighter variations in certain hair parts. I tie 'em up in a loose ponytail often tho. I let my shorter hair strains at the front do their own thingy, it's more fun xD. Brown eyes, straight nose, thin lips- all that stuff. Body type is hourglass.

Personality

One will realize pretty quickly that I am in fact not normal lmao- i'm a bit weird but i'm living for it. I'd describe myself as rather introverted though I'm not shy or timid. I just like to relax and do things my way. I have a lot of pride and discipline as well and I'm very proud of that. I'm also pretty easy to talk to if I do say so myself and laid-back as well. I have a lot of acceptance and tolerance so I am not quick to make unreasonable decisions. I'm also funny apparently (my friend's opinion. Lazy too but we don't talk about that HA-) I can snap pretty spontaneously tho if you push the right buttons. I'm still working on the anger management xD

Interests/Hobbies

If you couldn't already tell by my ability to speak a lot of languages I am really interested in them. I love to learn new stuff and expand my knowledge in general- I also LOVE listening to music (my earphones are my bebes) and sometimes drawing is pretty tempting as well. Idk why but designing / decorating is something I tend to enjoy doing even though I don't realize it. Gardening is also a hobby of mine. (Just smaller note because of my dislikes- i have no dislikes in that sense but if id had to settle on one it would be people being late to meetings or events in general, like bro u had one job-)

Just a few more smaller facts- My love language is quality time and I'm not overly experienced when it comes to relationships. I'm also more on the giving end than on the receiving end- I have trouble accepting help and kindness from others but am willing to love the other person unconditionally if I get to initiate the affection. I tend to be drawn to people that are confident and know how to handle any kind of situation.

Thank you in case my request gets accepted <33 bye byeee~

Hi Jade! Oh my goodness six languages! I can only speak English and a tiny bit of Italian. I'm trying to learn Japanese but it's slow going. Thank you for your request! I hope you like your matchups!

In Genshin Impact, I match you with...

You and Diluc are the definition of the straightlaced and weird couple. Diluc doesn't let his hair down a whole lot so having you in his life definitely brings a lot of strange energy that he hasn't had since his childhood.

He wouldn't change that for the world though. He loves listening to you talk about your interests. They're so different from all the wine business he has to deal with on a daily basis so it's a nice break.

Would like it if you sent him song recommendations. He would like to expand his music tastes a bit.

He'll listen to everything you send him and give his comments the next time he sees you.

Diluc loves spending quality time with you. I see his love languages as quality time and physical touch (he's without a doubt touch starved, please give him hugs).

He knows what it's like to feel like you don't deserve affection but he'll try to help you feel better about accepting help and kindness. He's always going to be there for you if you need him.

In My Hero Academia, I match you with...

Sero is the supportive person you need! He's going to support you unconditionally in everything you do. If he sees you need help but are struggling to ask for it, he'll approach you.

If you decline but he sees that you really wanted to say yes, he'll do little things to help out. Dinner? He's already cooking it, no need to worry. The laundry? He did that an hour ago. You want to go for a walk to clear your head? For sure!

Loves it when you speak in other languages. If you go off the headcannon that Sero speaks Spanish, he'd start replying to anything you say in another language in Spanish. Whether he understands what you've said or not, he's saying something back in Spanish.

Music is something that unites you. Please send him songs you like. He'll send some back!

Makes playlists for you that are combinations of his favourite songs, you favourites, and some that remain him of your relationship. They're his study playlists now.

In Obey Me, I match you with...

Lucifer definitely knows how to speak a bunch of languages. He's been around for who knows how long. Chances are high he speaks the same languages you do, plus a few.

Loves talking to you in other languages when his brothers are around, especially if he knows they don't speak that language. It feels more intimate (and makes his pride blow up).

Please introduce him to gardening. He would find it relaxing and it's a good break from doing paperwork for days on end.

Also please introduce him to songs that came out a little more recently than the classical music he listens to. I think he'd be a fan of rock ballads and songs with the same vibe as "Line Without a Hook" by Ricky Montgomery.

Enjoys spending quality time with you. He needs a break sometimes and there's nothing quite like having a mid-afternoon nap with someone you care about.

Lucifer likes that you have a point where you will snap. It makes him more comfortable letting you roam around the Devildom. He knows you won't let some random demon walk all over you.

[unethicalexperiments]

idk how to really start this but like. my mental state is just so exhausting like im so tired of it. theres no reason i should be this volatile theres no reason i should react to situations the way i do. just last night i had a weird (not even that bad) interaction with a stranger and it pissed me off so much i tried to kill myself. i wasn't sad or embarrassed i was just so furious over it, because it was a 10 second interaction and i couldn't explain myself to the other person, and i was just so fucking angry i was ready to physically hurt the other person over it well after i walked away. and then once i got home i was so upset that i got that unreasonably angry over a nothing interaction. and its not like i even got angry while i was still with the other person! it wasnt until after i walked away! there were only two thoughts circling in my mind for about 30-60 minutes after (idk im so bad at keeping track of time) that were just "why do i react to things like this" and "i just want it to stop hurting" bc thats the worst of it it just hurts so much. i swear im in physical pain after having breakdowns like that i feel hollow in my chest and obviously i dont have to say anything else about how much it emotionally hurts. i just want it to stop hurting. is that really too much to ask for? to not be in so much pain for just a little while? i guess i still havent come to terms with the fact that im disabled, because i still think of being disabled as someone who uses aids, even though i know invisible disabilities are a thing. i dont see other peoples invisible disabilities as being invalid, just really my own, because i still feel like im high enough functioning that i shouldnt consider myself disabled. i dont use mobility aids yet i dont take pain medication yet so therefore the literal brain damage i have isnt bad enough, im still fine. i kind of got off track but thats also part of it i guess. another thing that really gets me is the fact that i actually do have bpd, i was diagnosed by an actual doctor at 17 and its still a more than valid diagnosis. i feel like im in this constant cycle of "i have to get better because i cant keep living like this" and "i have to get worse so everyone else can see what theyve done to me". like last night i literally had to sit down and reread the dsm chapter on bpd to remind myself this is why youre like this. you do have this diagnosis its real and it is a problem. my 30 minute episodes of actively trying to kill myself to be followed by watching tv or something and laughing as if none of that happened. i still cant fathom not living like this, not having to go through this every fucking day. and then on the other hand i had a great interaction today at my job that made me feel really good about what i do and proving the work that i do is actually helping the community around me. and i felt on top of the world for like an hour, i felt great! and then another thing at work happened where i proved myself/my team to be right about something! which was also great! and i got another half hour of happiness. and then i get home and im reminded of how alone i am, how i really have no one to do or share anything with anymore. which is partially my fault and partially not! im not gonna act like im the most pleasant person to be around or that im easy to deal with, but fuck, man, i try. and it always feels like no one else is trying. i cut my own hair for the first time a few weeks ago; it came out great! and had no one to tell about it.

and now im just staring at a wall over all of it. none of the bad stuff happened none of the good stuff happened. im gonna get violently angry later and im gonna be nearly euphoric later, its just another day. and i want to change i want to change my lifestyle so bad but how can i do that without any help. i spent years of my life begging for other people to help me and got ignored, which resulted in my disability. i tried so hard to fix it on my own but i couldnt! im not a doctor! and now ill never be because i couldnt finish my pre-med classes because of my disability! i feel like im constantly screaming at the top of my lungs and waving red flags shouting please for the love of god someone help me every day and every day nothing changes. they say you cant help someone who doesnt want to be helped, but has anyone actually tried helping people before? youre telling me you cant problem solve? you cant find a different road to a solution, just because we cant take the easiest one? im sorry that its not easy for everyone else to help me, but how does anyone else think i feel?

but whatever. im fine now. i relived every emotion i went through while writing all that but im fine now. now that its all out there its all out there, out of my system. i dont care anymore. because it didnt matter. because it doesnt matter. none of it matters. it happened and its gonna happen again. ill go through these cycles again tomorrow and the next day and the next week and the next month and the next year and so on. it is what it is i guess. but does it really have to be.

[hwanchaesong]

"Ghost of You"

Synopsis: dealing with your beloved's demise will never be easy

👤: Jeong Yunho

📼: Ghost - Justin Bieber

genre & warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of death, implications of trauma, suicide, and depression, sprinkle of fluff, fantasy (inspired by anohana)

word count: 2.8k

requested by: @xddjoong

Birds chirping, soft wind blowing, and the bright sunlight shines down upon you as you walk down the isle of freshly trimmed grass. A peaceful and warm day outside yet your heart is frozen and is filled with agony.

Halting your steps in front of a tombstone, you crouched and placed the bouquet of red and pink carnations down.

'I still can't forget you, i love and miss you so much.'

"Hey honey," you mumbled, hands reaching over to touch the engraved name in the marble stone, "how are you doing over there? I hope you're happy."

'Even if I'm not.'

"It's been a year since you departed from me," you took a deep breath, feeling the emotions welling up inside you, "don't worry though, I'm doing my best to live my life."

Lies.

Yes, you were living your life but not at its fullest, you're just going with the flow, feeling hollow every day without your starlight.

A lot of people comforted you, told you words of encouragement, they never left your side and stayed with you at your darkest moments.

You appreciated all of their efforts, thankful that they didn't think of you as a dramatic ass person, thus, you did your best to feign a smile.

Fake it 'til you make it, what's worse is when they took it as a genuine one.

'If it's him, he'll surely know.'

After a long tiring day, you plopped down on your bed.

It felt empty and cold, the other side is absent of something, or more specifically, someone.

'Life wouldn't be this difficult only if I still have you by my side, Yunho.'

There was a lot of time that you wished for him to come back, you were willing to sacrifice everything just to be with him once again. You were ready to give your own life up if it means that you'll see him on the other side.

You ache for him so much that life did not matter to you any more, and it took a lot of convincing from your family and friends for you to continue your journey even without him.

You closed your eyes, trying to force the tears back down from where they came from.

Looks like it'll be an another episode of you crying yourself to sleep.

When you opened your eyes, an eerily familiar face greeted you, even its voice is the exact same of the person that you were thinking about before you lulled yourself to dreamland.

"Come on, Y/N, wake up!"

Okay, now you're definitely awake.

A loud shriek came out of your lips, scrambling away from the unknown yet intimate person that is currently kneeling on the floor, right across from your bed.

"Who the fuck are you?!"

He sighed and stood up, resulting in you screaming your head off once again as you threw your pillows at him. You were about to cover yourself with your blanket (sort of like a protection although it's useless), only then you noticed that the pillows did not hit him, but it went through him instead.

What in the world?

A staring contest between you and the entity ensued, him breaking the silence when it got louder to the point that your ears might bleed due to the intensity that is building up between the two of you.

"It's me, Jeong Yunho."

Commotion so early in the morning, you're so sure that your neighbors might file a complaint with how noisy you are.

After all hell breaks loose, your heart finally manages to calm itself down, you spoke in a tight manner, still not believing the paranormal shit that is currently happening to you.

"Explain yourself." you ordered the tall, puppy-like man like he's about to be scolded.

Being a skeptic, you rejected his first statement of 'I am a ghost and I am here because I have a mission!'

Fuck that, you're not gonna accept an unreasonable bullshit like that.

So there you stood in all your glory, acting all tough with your arms crossed over your chest, when in reality, your soul is already breaking with the sight of him.

"I really have nothing to say anymore!" he raised his hands out of frustration, a sign that he really doesn't know much aside from what was instilled in his mind.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, dealing with the impending tears as you tried to find a solution for this messed up situation.

"Okay," you started, pointing at him while he looks at you expectantly, "if you really are my Yunho-"

You temporarily stopped when you saw his eyes soften at your words.

'My Yunho.'

Your term of endearment that you always use whenever you had the chance. It symbolizes your undying love for him, a proof that he is yours, and you are his.

You cleared your throat, regaining your composure, "If you really are Yunho then give me a-"

"You ate a whole gochu because you want to impress me for our first date, but it ended up with you choking on water."

You were dumbfounded and it shows in your face. Nobody knows that incident but you and your lover, and he didn't even let you finish your sentence yet he knows what you're about to say.

"I am aware that you'll ask for evidence. I know you."

Too stunned to speak, Yunho continued to talk, staring at you intently, laying out the truth for you to comprehend.

"Listen, I know it's impossible but I want you to hear me out."

You shook your head, reality dawning on you like a meteor crashing right at your sanity.

This can't be happening, not when you think you have already made progress and now, he's back into this kind of form that makes you remember every memory whether it is good or bad.

An incoming panic attack washes over you but it was quickly replaced by a soothing sensation when a gentle melody resounded throughout the expanse of your room.

It's the lullaby that Yunho always sings to alleviate any negative emotions within you, works like magic and after a few more minutes, you were back to your rational self.

"Are you okay?"

You looked at him, trying to make sense of the conundrum you're in, "I d-don't know."

Yunho's eyes trailed down on his shoes, guilt eating him up because he knows that showing his self out of the blue won't do you any good, but what can he do?

He was always there, watching you everyday and he couldn't take it anymore. He can't bear seeing you suffer, he wanted to help, he must do his best for you to be able to smile again.

"Forgotten promise." he blurted out, making you look up and focus on him.

"I am here because of that, a forgotten promise."

It was quiet for a minute, scrutinizing the man until you realized that he's still wearing the outfit that you last saw him in.

Blue long sleeved polo topped with a maroon sweater, paired with denim pants and white rubber shoes.

He looks ethereal as usual, handsome yet adorable that always made you doubt how lucky you are, getting a perfect man like him in your boring existence, until he left you all alone.

"What is that?" you weakly asked, wanting answers that will aid to the growing confusion and distraught in your mind.

"I want to show it to you!" he exclaimed, a bright smile forming in his face as he approached you, his hands enveloping yours.

It's surprisingly warm, contrary to the belief that ghosts are wintry beings, not able to make in contact with-

"How are you able to touch me?"

Incredulous yet the butterflies in your stomach are wilding, even more so when he flashed a charming grin at you, "Call it a miracle, I mean, I am here, right?"

You let him drag you out of your house, not having the energy to fight against this, or whatever the circumstances are.

The bystanders on the street looked at you weirdly, (which is understandable since your posture looks like someone invisible is pulling you.)

"Wait a minute. I'm the only one who can see you?"

"I guess? It's only you that matters the most to me so it might work like that."

Stopping your steps, the both of you arrived at a park, the place where you met Yunho, also where a lot of your firsts happened.

"Why are we here?"

He held your hand tighter, somehow wanting to feel more of you even if he knows that he can't do that anymore, thus, the least that he can do is to not let go of you for the remaining time he had left.

"You'll see."

Tugging you with him, he led you to a garden filled with colorful flowers, trees everywhere and overall an astonishing landscape.

"The locus of our firsts." you mumbled, viewing the place that started it all, melancholy blooming in your heart.

You met him out of coincidence, bumping into his broad back because your clumsy ass decided to use your phone while walking.

Like a drama scene, he caught you in his arms, an electrifying eye contact derived, a small smile adorning his face when your hands flew to his shoulders.

He didn't let you fall on your ass that day but he made sure that you'll fall for him. He was following you 'til you afternoon, walking you back home and asking for your number and name.

It was really sweet of him when he asked you out on a date the next day, having the best time of your life, thinking that yeah, maybe you'll have this man in your life until you're old and gray.

"Hey look!" Yunho excitedly pointed at a nearby tree, the spot where your first date happened, "We had a picnic under the cherry blossoms, then you ate the gochu! That really was a funny one."

You snorted, remembering that he also kissed you during that time.

"Oh my god." you let your tongue dangle out of your mouth, fanning your face wildly as you tried to reduce the heat that you regretfully took upon yourself.

"Good grief."

Yunho snickered to himself, finding you cute for doing something you're not accustomed to just to make yourself look cool in front of him.

His hands extended themselves towards you, effectively cutting your hysterics when he collided his lips with yours.

You were briefly shocked, quickly getting over it and reciprocating his kiss, enjoying his soft and mellow lips.

Yunho breathed against your skin, "I could kiss you forever if you'll let me."

A sorrowful expression decorated your face, actuality pressuring you in a spiral of anguish.

The Yunho you're with now is not alive, he is a mere specter of your past that will never return and live with you in the present, even until future.

A shadow that won't be able to kiss and cuddle you everyday, a dark chassis that creeps up on you and you can't do anything but to drown in it.

You clasped a hand over your mouth, grief overwhelming you at the thought of the man that you once loved, still love, and will always love, will never truly return to you.

Yunho's gaze was fixated on you, angry that he can't bring you comfort like he used to.

He heaved a sigh, looking at the setting sun that shone its bright orange hue down on earth, gracing an ambience of joy and enthusiasm, although none of you can feel any of it.

"Y/N."

His voice snapped you out of your stupor, craning your head to get a good look of him.

"Come with me, I have to show you something." a light smile heightens his sharp features, nodding his head towards a direction that leads to a forest.

The two of you trudged your way into the sinister woods for a few minutes until you reached what seems like a top of a hill. The moon has already risen over the black skies, stars winking at anyone who dares to peek at them.

"What are we supposed to do here?"

You were pinned at your place when you felt arms snaked around your waist, a head softly situating itself in the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry."

Yunho spoke, voice above a whisper as he poured his final words and goodbyes.

"I'm so sorry, love, for leaving you so suddenly."

Your hands went over to hold his own, eyes getting glossy due to the tears that are starting to form, "It was so difficult to go on without you."

"I know, baby, I know." his hold on you got tighter, your body shivering either from the freezing air or fear that when he lets go of you, he'll go far away from your reach.

"Don't go."

Clammy hands and shaky voice, desperately begging for him to stay with you even if he's nothing but a phantom of your dreams.

You'd rather live with his ghost rather than be haunted by your yearning for him, the most that your greedy self can have is a memoir of him, a proof that he's there with you.

"Let's play." Yunho muttered, releasing you from his cozy touch that had you crying out, terrified of him deserting you.

"No, Yunho. I won't, please, don't divert the topic." you yelled, your heels rotating to face him, tired and frustrated about the whole thing.

"You can't just show yourself to me like this and leave like nothing happened!"

Tears are now falling uncontrollably, staining your plump cheeks and blurring your vision.

"You did that once and now you're gonna repeat it? Just how cruel can you be?"

After your last statement, it was impossible for you to stand, sliding down to ground as your wobbly knees can't support you anymore, you feel like floating with all the amount of mental and emotional torment that you're experiencing.

Yunho gritted his teeth, his heart physically breaking at the sight of you breaking down. He did not mean for this to happen, but what can he do when he fought his way out of here?

He clenched his fists, squatting down to your level and wiping your tears softly. Yunho hates seeing you cry, more so when he's the reason for it. All he prays is for you to be happy, and that he can't achieve.

"Hide-and-seek." he said, bewilderment etched on your face.

A tender smile stretched on Yunho's face, caressing your soft skin, "Let's play, I did told you that I needed to finish a promise."

Oh.

He cupped your face, lips pressing on your forehead, "I was on my way here on the day the accident happened." he murmured, continuing his small speech when you didn't make any move.

"For a whole year, I planned everything, and now I want to execute that. So," he pulled away from you, peering into your eyes and you were mesmerized by his pretty brown orbs, "will you please let me?"

"Okay." you sniffled, closing your eyes and starting the game.

He gave you a loving pat on the crown of your head, thanking you before taking a few steps back.

"Start the countdown, darling."

You did as he said albeit unstable and hesitant.

3

A bright light engulfed Yunho's body, big, fat tears cascading down on his face as he memorized every detail of you.

2

Slowly fading away, whispering an 'I love you' that you might not even hear.

1

You opened your eyes only to be greeted by an empty space, Yunho nowhere to be found and you let the tears flow freely.

He disappeared from your life again.

Just how many heartbreaks do you have to experience? How much more do you have to endure?

A shiny glint garnered your attention, there below you, lying in the greenery is a beautiful diamond ring, a letter beside it that contains your significant other's heartfelt message.

Gathering the courage to pick the piece of paper up, you opened it and read the contents.

"Ehem! Greetings my one and only lovey dovey!

I just want to tell you that I, Jeong "your baby" Yunho, doesn't want to be your boyfriend anymore. I want to be your lifetime instead, so, will you please do the honor of being my bride? Then be my wife, then be the mother of my kids, and you know the rest.

Okay, even in this I ramble please, I do this because I love you so much!

I can't wait for our wedding T.T"

Under the starry night, atop of the hill of hopes and longing, your loud weeping echoes and unto the heavens, crippling the paper like how your heart is, knowing that you won't ever have the chance to cross the bridge that he walked on.

Maybe one day, in another life, you'll meet each other again, be with each other again, and perhaps live until tomorrow ends.

[writingwithcolor]

I'm writing an AU of a movie that takes place in the 1880s USA, where a travelling white character and a Jewish character are waylaid by Native Americans, who they befriend. Probably because it was written by and about PoC (Jews) the scene actually avoids the stuff on your Native American Masterpost, but I'd still like to do better than a movie made in the 1980's, and I feel weird cutting them from the plot entirely. I have a Jewish woman reading it for that, but are there any things you (1/1)

2/2 1880s western movie ask--are there things you'd LIKE to see in a movie where a white man and a Jewish man run into Native Americans in the 1880s? I do plan to base them on a real tribe (Ute, probably) and have proper housing/clothes and so forth, but right now I'm just trying to avoid or subvert awful cowboy movie tropes. Any ideas?

White and Jewish Men, Native American interactions in 1880s

I am vaguely concerned with how you only cite one of our posts about Native Americans, that was not written by a Native person, and do not cite any of the posts relating to this time period, or any posts relating to representation in media. 

Sidenote: if you want us to give accurate reflections of the media you’re discussing, please tell us the NAME. I cannot go look up this movie based off this description to give you an idea of what my issues are with this scene, and must instead trust that the representation is good based off your judgement. I cannot make my own judgement. This is a problem. Especially since your whole question boils down to “this scene is good but not great and I want it to be great. How can I do that?”

Your baseline for “good” could very well be my baseline for “terrible hack job”. I can’t give you the proper education required for you to be able to accurately evaluate the media you’re watching for racist stereotypes if you don’t tell me what you’re even working with.

When you’re writing fanfic where the media is directly relevant to the question, please tell us the name of the media. We will not judge your tastes. We need this information in order to properly help you.

Moving on.

I bring up my concern for you citing that one—exceptionally old—post because it is lacking in many of the tropes that don’t exist in the media critique field but exist in the real world. This is an issue I have run into countless times on WWC (hence further concern you did not cite any other posts) and have spoken about at length. 

People look at the media critique world exclusively, assume it is a complete evaluation of how Native Americans are seen in society, and as a result end up ignoring some really toxic stereotypes and then come to the inbox with “these characters aren’t abc trope, so they’re fine, but I want to rubber stamp them anyway. Anything wrong here?”. The answer is pretty much always yes. 

Issue one: “Waylaid” by Native Americans

This wording is extremely loaded for one reason: Native American people are seen as tricksters, liars, and predators. This is the #1 trope that shows up in the real world that does not show up in media critique. It’s also the trope I have talked about the most when it comes to media representation, so you not knowing the trope is a sign you haven’t read the entirety of the Native tag—which is in the FAQ as something we would really prefer you did before coming at us to answer questions. It avoids us having to re-explain ourselves.

Now, hostility is honestly to be expected for the time period the movie is set in. This is in the beginnings (or ramping up) of residential schools in America* and Canada, we have generations upon generations of stolen or killed children, reserves being allocated perhaps hundreds of miles from sacred sites, and various wars with Plains and Southwest peoples are in full force (Wounded Knee would have happened in 1890, in December, and the Dakoa’s mass execution would have been in 1862. Those are just the big-name wars. There absolutely were others). 

*America covers up its residential schools abuse extremely thoroughly, so if you try to research them in the American context you will come up empty. Please research Canada’s schools and apply the same abuse to America, as Canada has had a Truth and Reconciliation Commission about residential schools and therefore is more (but not completely) transparent about the abuse that happened. Please note that America’s history with residential schools is longer than Canada’s history. There is an extremely large trigger warning for mass child death when you do this research.

But just because the hostility is expected does not mean that this hostility would be treated well in the movie. Especially when you consider the sheer amount of tension between any Native actors and white actors, for how Sacheen Littlefeather had just been nearly beaten up by white actors at the 1973 Academy Awards for mentioning Wounded Knee, and the American Indian Religious Freedom Act had only been passed two years prior in 1978. 

These Native actors would not have had the ability to truly consent to how they were shown, and this power dynamic has to be in your mind when you watch this scene over. I don’t care that the writers were from a discriminated-against background. This does not always result in being respectful, and I’ve also spoken about this power imbalance at length (primarily in the cowboy tag).

Documentaries and history specials made in the 2010s (with some degree of academic muster) will still fall into wording that harkens Indigenous people to wolves and settlers as frightened prey animals getting picked off by the mean animalistic Natives. This is not neutral, or good. This is perpetuating the myth that the settlers were helpless, just doing their own thing completely unobtrusively, and then the evil territorial Native Americans didn’t want to share.

To paraphrase Batman: if I had a week I couldn’t explain all the reasons that’s wrong.

How were these characters waylaid by the Native population? Because that answer—which I cannot get because you did not name the media—will determine how good the framing is. But based on the time period this movie was made alone, I do not trust it was done respectfully.

Issue 2: “Befriending”

I mentioned this was in an intense period of residential schools and land wars all in that area. The Ute themselves had just been massacred by Mormons in the Grass Valley Massacre in 1865, with ten men and an unknown number of women and children killed thanks to a case of assumed association with a war chief (Antonga Black Hawk) currently at war with Utah. The Paiute had been massacred in 1866. Over 100 Timpanogo men had been killed, with an unknown number of women and children enslaved by Brigham Young in Salt Lake City in 1850, with many of the enslaved people dying in captivity (those numbers were not tracked, but I would assume at least two hundred were enslaved— that’s simply assuming one woman/wife and one child for every man, and the numbers could have very well been higher if any war-widows and their children were in the group, not to mention families with multiple children). This is after an unknown group of Indigenous people had been killed by Governor Brigham Young the year prior, to “permanently stop cattle theft” from settlers. 

The number of Native Americans killed in Utah in the 1800s—just the number of dead counted (since women and children weren’t counted)—in massacres not tied to war (because there was at least one war) is over 130. The actual number of random murders is much higher; between the uncounted deaths and how the Governor had issued orders to “deal with” the problem of cattle theft permanently. I doubt you would have been tried or convicted if you murdered Indigenous peoples on “your” land. This is why it’s called state sanctioned genocide.

This is not counting the Black Hawk War in Utah (1865-1872), which the Ute were absolutely a part of (the wiki articles I read were contradictory if Antonga Black Hawk was Ute or Timpanogo, but the Ute were part of it). The first official massacre tied to the war—the Bear River Massacre, ordered by the US Military—places the death count of just that singular massacre at over five hundred Shoshone, including elders, women, and children. It would not be unreasonable to assume that the number of Indigenous people killed in Utah from 1850, onward, is over a thousand, perhaps two or three.

Pardon me for not reading beyond that point to list more massacres and simply ballparking a number; the source will be linked for you to get an accurate number of dead.

So how did they befriend the Native population? Let alone see them as fully human considering the racism of the time period? Natives were absolutely not seen as fully human so long as they were tied to their culture, and assimilation equalling some sliver of respect was already a stick being waved around as a threat. This lack of humanity continues to the present day.

I’m not saying friendship is impossible. I am saying the sheer levels of mistrust that would exist between random wandering groups of white/pale men and Indigenous communities wouldn’t exactly make that friendship easy. Having the scene end be a genuine friendship feels ignorant and hollow and flattening of ongoing genocide, because settlers lied about their intentions and then lined you up for slauther (that’s how the Timpanogo were killed and enslaved).

Utah had already done most of its mass killing by this point. The era of trusting them was over. There was an active open hunting season, and the acceptable targets were the Indigenous populations of Utah.

(sources for the numbers: 

List of Indian Massacres in North America Black Hawk War (1865-1872))

Issue 3: “Proper housing/clothes and so forth”

Do you mean Western style settlements and jeans? If yes, congratulations you have written a reservation which means the land-ripped-away wounds are going to be fresh, painful, and sore.

You do not codify what you mean by “proper”, and proper is another one of those deeply loaded colonial words that can mean “like a white man” or “appropriate for their tribe.” For the time period, it would be the former. Without specifying which direction you’re going for, I have no idea what you’re imagining. And without the name of the media, I don’t know what the basis of this is.

The reservation history of this time period seems to maybe have some wiggle room; there were two reservations allocated for the Ute at this time, one made in 1861 and another made in 1882 (they were combined into the Uintah and Ouray Indian Reservation in 1886). This is all at the surface level of a google and wikipedia search, so I have no idea how many lived in the bush and how many lived on the reserve. 

There were certainly land defenders trying to tell Utah the land did not belong to them, so holdouts that avoided getting rounded up were certainly possible. But these holdouts would be far, far more hostile to anyone non-Native.

The Ute seemed to be some degree of lucky in that the reserve is on some of their ancestral territory, but any loss of land that large is going to leave huge scars. 

It should be noted that reserves would mean the traditional clothing and housing would likely be forbidden, because assimilation logic was in full force and absolutely vicious at this time. 

It’s a large reserve, so the possibility exists they could have accidentally ended up within the borders of it. I’m not sure how hostile the state government was for rounding up all the Ute, so I don’t know if there would have been pockets of them hiding out. In present day, half of the Ute tribe lives on the reserve, but this wasn’t necessarily true historically—it could have been a much higher percentage in either direction.

It’s up to you if you want to make them be reservation-bound or not. Regardless, the above mentioned genocide would have been pretty fresh, the land theft in negotiations or already having happened, and generally, the Ute would be well on their way to every assimilation attempt made from either residential schools, missionaries, and/or the forced settlement and pre-fab homes.

To Answer Your Question

I don’t want another flattened, sanitized portrayal of genocide.

Look at the number of dead above, the amount of land lost above, the amount of executive orders above. And try to tell me that these people would be anything less than completely and totally devastated. Beyond traumatized. Beyond broken hearted. Absolutely grief stricken with almost no soul left.

Their religion would have been illegal. Their children would have been stolen. Their land was taken away. A saying about post-apocalyptic fiction is how settler-based it is, because Indigenous people have already lived through their own apocalypse.

It would have all just happened at the time period this story is set in. All of the grief you feel now at the environment changing so drastically that you aren’t sure how you’ll survive? Take that, magnify it by an exponential amount because it happened, and you have the mindset of these Native characters.

This is not a topic to tread lightly. This is not a topic to read one masterpost and treat it as a golden rule when there is too much history buried in unmarked, overfull graves of school grounds and cities and battlefields. I doubt the movie you’re using is good representation if it doesn’t even hint at the amount of trauma these Native characters would have been through in thirty years.

A single generation, and the life that they had spent millennia living was gone. Despite massive losses of life trying to fight to preserve their culture and land.

Learn some history. That’s all I can tell you. Learn it, process it, and look outside of checklists. Look outside of media. 

And let us have our grief.

~ Mod Lesya

On Question Framing

Please allow me the opportunity to comment on “are there things you'd LIKE to see in a movie where a white man and a Jewish man run into Native Americans in the 1880s?” That strikes me as the same type of question as asking what color food I’d like for lunch. I don’t see how the cultural backgrounds of characters I have literally no other information about is supposed to make me want anything in particular about them. I don’t know anything about their personalities or if they have anything in common.

Compare the following questions:

“Are there things you’d like to see in a movie where two American women, one from a Nordic background and one Jewish, are interacting?” I struggle to see how our backgrounds are going to yield any further inspiration. It certainly doesn’t tell you that we’re both queer and cling to each other’s support in a scary world; it doesn’t tell you that we uplift each other through mental illness; it doesn’t go into our 30 years of endless bizarre inside jokes related to everything from mustelids to bad subtitles.

Because: “white”, “Jewish”, and “Native American” aren’t personality words. You can ask me what kind of interaction I’d like to see from a high-strung overachieving woman and a happy-go-lucky Manic Pixie Dream Girl, and I’ll tell you I’d want fluffy f/f romance. Someone else might want conflict ultimately resolving in friendship. A third person might want them slowly getting on each other’s nerves more and more until one becomes a supervillain and the other must thwart her. But the same question about a cultural demographic? That told me nothing about the people involved.

Also, the first time I meet a new person from a very different culture, it might take weeks before discussion of our specific cultural differences comes up. As a consequence, my first deep conversations with a Costa Rican American gentile friend were not about Costa Rica or my Jewishness but about things we had in common: classical music and coping with breakups--which are obviously conversations I could have had if we were both Jewish, both Costa Rican gentiles, or both something else. So in other words, I’m having trouble seeing how knowing so little about these characters is supposed to give me something to want to see on the page.

Thank you for understanding.

(And yes, I agree with Lesya, what’s with this trend of people trying to explain their fandom in a roundabout way instead of mentioning it by name? It makes it harder to give meaningful help….)

--Shira

[agent-cupcake]

As a resident Claudefucker, I know am curious to know what our fave charming schemer is doing during this Mafia!AU. He'd look lovely in a suit.

~It was quite the headline when Godfrey Riegan died. The details are a little hazy, a little convenient, but people don't talk about that sort of thing. Car accidents are common. Tragic, but not unreasonable. There’s no reason to smear a man’s perfectly respectable political career for the sake of some sensational gossip.

~In the right circles, however, there was a huge uproar, questions about who was going to take over the Riegan family when the elderly boss Oswald died. The Riegan’s had been dominating Leicester for quite some time, but a lot of people began to predict that the Gloucester family was going to move in. They had powerful friends, it seemed. Friends with money, no less.

~Claude Riegan, grandson of Oswald, appeared out of nowhere just when he was needed. Stories of the lost daughter Tiana still circulated, sure, but there were still a lot of questions about Claude’s origins when nobody except Oswald were able to vouch for him. He obviously had military leadership experience—his skill with guns and ability to lead was just too excellent for any other explanation—but he dismissed the question out of hand. There’s no documentation of him, either, leading some to wonder if even his name was false. But Oswald said he was family, and that was that.

~Claude was quick to establish himself, in any case. Despite his cavalier attitude, his efficacy in overhauling the power dynamics of Leicester were profound.  

~He decided, first and foremost, that the way to win the people over was to invigorate the local culture, which had seen a sharp decline as a result of new laws that were unfavorable to business, Adrestia’s growing market monopolies, and the bad reputation of the red light district Ailell. This included some perfectly legitimate campaigning and some under the table type schemes. 

~The result was a flourishing Derdriu Street. While it lacks the prestige of Enbarr Square in Adrestia, it welcomes entertainment that would be considered too “low brow” like comedy, trendy new restaurants, and music venues. Even better, all of it is built on the recently cleaned up river. The Riegan family is involved in all of  it, of course. 

~Casino owner Claude. This exists solely to thirst but maybe it was preexisting and he took it over due to its poor management? If there’s going to be gambling anyway, it should be done right. The extra money’s not so bad, either. But, Claude lounging in a big leather chair in a dark blue blazer with gold brocade, his white shirt unbuttoned low enough to see enough his chest. Enough to make you drool. Enough that you’d definitely get caught staring and probably called out for it because he can’t help himself. Claude with his elbows on the arm rests and fingers folded in front of him as he considers you, gold rings winking because he’s just that ostentatious and appearances are important. Claude asking you how you feel about taking risks in a way that really feels like it has nothing to do with cards, staring at you with a friendly smile that doesn’t meet those calculating eyes—eyes that you know will pick up on every tell. 

~Claude also struck a deal with the Kupala Distillery. They’d been fighting to keep hold of their historic business for years, and Claude offered to help them with that. You know, not for free, but he’s good at making deals that leave everybody happy. 

~The second biggest thing he tackled was the drug trade. For the most part, no one family had ever had a complete handle on that market. The Goneril’s had a hold over the docks for years, but the Edmunds had been moving in and working with the Gloucester family to bolster their power. Distribution was scattered and hard to keep track of as it ultimately circulated wherever there was a profit to be made. Looking at it like this, Claude decided that the only way to fix things was to take control over all of it. In his line of work, shady things like the drug trade are impossible to avoid. At the very least, if he has control over it, he can ensure the product is clean and expel far more unsavory ventures.

~Through these escapades, Claude was able to make alliances with all of the major families. A lot of them had only remained loyal to the Gloucester family out of fear so as soon as they had an alternative, they bolted. This has an unfortunate side effect of revealing how his power is perceived. Every day is a balancing act for Claude. He allows each family to function as they please as long as they’re aware they do so at his mercy. It’s better to keep friends than to control enemies, but even that requires a delicate maneuvering of power.

~However, Claude likes the conflict. He enjoys the game and he especially enjoys winning the game. There’s a certain level of his excusing amorality for the sake of his family and Leicester, but there’s an equal part of him that understands his wrongdoings and deals with it separately. He wouldn’t hold to the naïve “ends justify the means” idea to excuse himself, but he would still argue that his actions have value and are even necessary. If it weren’t him, it would be somebody a lot worse than him. That’s probably something that would linger in the back of everybody’s minds whenever they shook his hand or paid their respects, whenever they began to think of how easy it would be to take him out. Fear, too. So far, Claude’s never done anything shockingly bad, only what was necessary. But with his power and intellect, it’s always a question of what he could do.

~If someone asked him that, Claude would smile that friendly smile and tell them that he would do anything to see his vision made real. Whether or not that’s true remains to be seen. 

~Luckily, Claude’s not alone! Hilda is the stereotypical crime family princess. She joined Claude because he offered her freedom from the overbearing control of her father and brother. Her skill in manipulating everybody around her combined with her reputation as a ditzy rich girl makes her fantastic at gathering information, assuming Claude can get her to do so. But, as long as he’s not being too forceful, she’s surprisingly motivated to weave her way through social circles and charm everyone. Although she would never say it, the order he brought to Leicester, not to mention the entertainment, made everything a lot better for her and her family. Plus, she likes being useful after spending her entire life watching Holst give his heart and soul to family while she did nothing. Ultimately, the information she provides is essential and her relationship with Claude is one of the few either have that’s built on trust, respect, and loyalty. That said, sometimes even Claude gets a little shiver as he watches how easily Hilda can manipulate people.  

~Lorenz was one of Claude’s most disdainful detractors, although a part of that was jealousy. Claude just swept in and did things that Lorenz had been waiting and planning to do once he became the head of the Gloucester family. Even after being on the receiving ends of such vicious attacks, once Claude undeniably had the upper hand in Leicester, he went behind the Gloucester boss’s back to Lorenz and told him that they were going to be friends or enemies, it was Lorenz’s choice. Not threatening him, just pointing out that the fall of the Gloucester family was inevitable under his father’s leadership and that Lorenz didn’t have to suffer for his father’s sins. Probably over mimosas and brunch. Lorenz is proud and has no appreciation for Claude, but he’s not stupid. After they worked out their disagreements and more or less accepted each other, Lorenz and Claude became pretty close. Claude knows that having someone to openly and aggressively disagree with him isn’t a bad thing. Not only that, but Lorenz’s a solid ally with a better grasp on some of the things Claude has difficulty with due to not being a native. Lorenz is willing to admit that Claude is a good leader.

~Marianne is well educated in the realm of the law and political action. The reason the Edmund family saw such success despite their lesser status was because of her adopted father’s genius. which he made sure to share with Marianne. She is invaluable in aiding Claude on the perfectly legitimate side of his business, and helping him hide his tracks for the shady stuff. Raphael is the muscle. Lysithea is a computer genius. Being a sickly shut in with issues that only recently saw treatment, she’s on the Mr. Robot level of hacker mode activated. Ignatz is an architect which is useful since so much of Claude’s power is in the property and infrastructure. He also designed a lot of places to have some neat-o hidey holes. Claude loves buildings that have secrets. Leonie is manages a lot of the physical and pettier side of the work. If someone’s stirring up trouble, she’s likely to pay them a visit as a warning before Claude has to get involved. She used to be a mercenary but being on Claude’s payroll is a lot better of a gig.    

~As for the suits, one thing is very important. Claude would not, under any circumstances, wear something tight on his thighs. I actually kind of like the idea of him going for a 1980′s style modernized. In his post timeskip outfit, he’s already got a hint of that going on with how oversized his outfit looks. The 80′s (rightfully) gets a bad rep for fashion, but it’s also very iconic with those wide-collared suit jackets, matchy-matchy three piece suits, sportscoats with a fun patterned shirt underneath, open blazers, pleated pants with an oversized jacket, and—in particular—the trend of summer suits in shades of tan and cream with colored shirts underneath. Then, combine that with a pair of Ray-Ban Aviators and a topless convertible and you’ve got a distinctly recognizable mob boss who doubles as a devastating heartthrob. I’m not saying he’d do a 1:1 recreation, but you’d definitely see references to the fashion of the era in his outfits. He would wear oxfords or ankle boots. Whatever it was, they’d have to be comfortable. He also doesn’t shy away from jewelry. The earring, of course, and rings when he's feeling particularly decadent. When he’s wearing his shirts unbuttoned Claude could possibly wear a gold chain. I mean, what are you gonna say, no? That gold doesn’t look gorgeous against his skin? That it’s tacky? You’re talking to the man who wore quilted pants. Claude’s not afraid to stand out because he knows he will anyway, nor is he afraid to be seen as unfashionable because he doesn’t particularly care about trends. I also enjoy the idea of him emulating the 80′s as someone who didn’t grow up in a western culture and thus mainly saw things through the lens of movies. Whatever he wears, however, he would look very handsome.

[lesbianmarrow]

well anyway i watched legends of tomorrow 6.02 “meat: the legends” it was pretty good! i don’t have a lot to say about this one tbh it was just a solid episode with some good plot stuff and good character stuff. i enjoyed both the main plot with the meat alien and the b plot with the other planet. 

i feel like the storyline with the alien sauce that made everyone crave meat was a reference to a specific horror film but if so it is a film i have not watched. still i thought it was an entertaining and kind of amusingly hokey plot for this episode. at times the camera work felt like it was evoking the styles of the horror films from the 50s which is when this story is set and i thought that was fun. i thought the moth alien was gorgeous when it finally emerged and i’m kind of surprised this show has been able to do such detailed visual effects in both this episode and the previous one since it’s yknow the cw. anyway yeah all good stuff. 

i thought it was so funny how behrad was so into flipping burgers. like spongebob. it’s kind of a nice insight into his character how he enjoys this task that most people would hate bc it’s something people appreciate him for that sets him apart from his sister. really awesome to see him and zari working together toward the end. i love the sibling relationship. i like when behrad admits that it was kind of childish and patriarchal of him to try to gatekeep the family totem. because it is so easy for men to kind of fall into that default of traditional patriarchal values even if they mean well, and i like that he recognizes his mistake there and tries to rectify it. and then zari 1.0 splits the totem in two so they can both have it :) i love that. 

conflict between ava and spooner is really good. first off i like that spooner is very short bc whenever the camera has her pov looking up at ava i can pretend that its me looking up at ava bc i too am very short. sorry for that digression i just had to get that in there. anyway i like that it’s a conflict of ava being kind of naive and unwilling to accept that these aliens can be unreasonable and deadly, because if they are then that means the chances of sara’s survival are that much slimmer. whereas spooner sees the aliens for the danger they are and feels that the only way to deal with them is to kill them, and she’s also pushing for ava to give up hope of sara being alive because spooner gave up hope of her mother being alive long ago. and it’s like spooner knows how much it hurts to hope when you have no reason to hope and how it inevitably leads to crushing disappointment and she wants to spare ava that feeling. but in the end they come to an understanding in which ava learns that sometimes killing is the only option and spooner learns not to give up hope just yet. i like that we get that very vulnerable moment with spooner toward the end of the episode bc it helps us sympathize with her more. i mean i was already a fan of her but it’s good to see that vulnerability because it humanizes her and shows the complexity of her character. also i really liked when ava called sara her WIFE and when she poured a glass for her out of habit. ohhhh she misses her so much. 

i really enjoyed the plot of sara and gary on the alien planet. how did they let a dog fool them AGAIN!!! i loved how much the alien planet set looked like something from star trek. tos specifically. just so delightfully campy. and then when they meet amelia earhart that reminded me of in star trek voyager when janeway meets amelia earhart and they have sex (not really but i know in my heart it happened). i think if sara had not been with ava then she definitely wouldve put the moves on miss amelia. at least until she found out amelia was an ALIEN :O this might be a reach but i feel like the star trek vibes of the set + the fact that voy also featured its captain meeting amelia earhart on an alien planet + just all the time travel in LoT which lets them meet lots of historical figures all work to make the audience let their guard down and keep them from suspecting that amelia earhart is actually an ALIEN until it’s revealed to sara herself. if that was intentional then that’s a really fun use of metatextuality on the writers’ parts. sara looked pretty weak after that bite....i hope she was not injected full of alien poisons. actually i hope she was and we see her delirious and it’s really dramatic cause that could be fun. it’s nice how she sort of learns to appreciate gary’s company in this episode. i think it would be so funny if when they’re finally reunited with the legends sara and gary are like besties and ava is very confused on how that could have happened. 

anyway thats how i felt about this one :) loving the star trek vibes i hope the show keeps em coming! 

[delimeful]

sheer atrocity (4)

warnings: captivity, mild arguing

-

After a brief break to eat and drink, Virgil was on the move. Again.

Considering dusk was quickly approaching and they’d been traveling or intimidating abusive dads for pretty much the entire day, Roman felt the pace they were setting was a little unreasonable.

He wasn’t the one walking it, sure, but he couldn’t help but wonder. Was this guy always so antsy, or was this a special occasion?

And while he was asking himself questions that he wouldn’t get any answers to, how long was the cast duration of this enchantment?

(More specifically, how much longer was he going to be small enough for beetles to look like dogs?

How much longer before Virgil decided what to do with him for real?)

He hadn’t seen the giant stop to recast, which meant that he’d been burning through a continuous enchantment for hours on end. Signs pointed to his magic reserves being massive. Chilling.  

Roman thumped a foot against the side of the jar that rested against Virgil’s side. “Are we wandering around the woods during twilight for any particular reason, or are you just lost and too embarrassed to admit it? Too used to seeing the trees from a loftier position, perhaps?”

Virgil glanced down at him, as though just recalling he was there. Offended, Roman made a mental note to make more of his internal diatribes to external diatribes. The only thing worse than being a prisoner with an uncertain future was being an ignored prisoner with an uncertain future.

“Go back to being quiet, I forgot you were annoying for a second.”

“Absolutely not,” Roman huffed, kicking his feet against the glass repeatedly for emphasis. “The moment we see another human I’m going to scream at the top of my lungs.”

“Oh, because that worked so well for you before,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes.

Roman shifted positions, trying to ease a cramp in his leg. “Haven’t you heard? Third time’s the charm, and personally, I have no shortage of charm.”

There was a short pause, and then Virgil ground to a stop, taking a deep breath.

Instantly, Roman stiffened, eyes locked on the face above him. He’d forgotten himself, making jabs as though they weren’t enemies, as though he hadn’t been trapped, threatened, and used by this monster. It was too easy to pretend, when Virgil did things that were almost decent.

Sure enough, Virgil grabbed the top of the jar and lifted it from his pocket to be eye level. Roman shoved his arms out to keep himself stable, avoiding looking at the long drop below him.

“As useful as your bullheadedness was before, I don’t actually want you to scare the daylights out of the person I’m looking for this time.”

“Yes, well, I don’t want to be the size of a newborn chick, so it looks like we’re both dealing with  struggles in life,” Roman snapped back, because he’d never known when to keep his mouth shut.

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “I could just muffle your jar, you know. I’m magic; I can do that.”

He could? Roman was sort of surprised he hadn’t done so already.

“But,” he continued with a sigh, “I think this one will probably be easier with your help. I’m not great at putting people at ease.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Roman snorted, and then jerked as the rest of the sentence sunk in. “Wait, hang on. ‘Put people at ease’? There is no way I’m helping you with any nefarious plots!”

“It’s not nefarious!” Virgil shifted his weight, glancing around impatiently. “And it’s time sensitive. Either help me or don’t, I don’t care.”

It couldn’t be that simple, but Roman wasn’t about to pass up a chance to see something other than the interior of a pocket. “Fine, but if I see you doing something evil, I’m not going to stand idly by!” And then, petulantly. “Also, I want out of the jar.”

“As long as you actually use your brain instead of your biases to judge me,” Virgil snarked back, but obligingly pried off the lid and tipped the jar on its side. Rather than pull or tip Roman out, he held his hand to the lip of the opening and waited.

It was almost more nerve wracking to climb into a giant hand willingly, but Roman managed it. The jar was whisked away, and Roman lifted to neck level. He stared blankly.

“Going to get off anytime soon?” Virgil asked, a hint of irritation in his voice.  

“What am I getting on? Your collar bones?” Roman replied incredulously. “Wouldn’t a shoulder be better?”

The hand under him shifted slightly, angling him towards the folds of the cloak where it met the hood. “The fabric has better grip here. You’ll fall off my shoulder if we’re attacked.”

Attacked by who? “Paranoid much?” Roman dallied for a moment longer, but the idea of falling really was an unappealing one, so he climbed up and managed to find a seat amongst the bunched up cloth.

As soon as he was settled, Virgil set off again, and Roman clung tightly, staring out at this strange new perspective of the forest. Weird, but definitely better than the jar.

They moved along in relative silence, Virgil surprisingly light on his feet for a giant. The sun had just begun to sink below the horizon when he finally jerked to a halt.

Roman opened his mouth to complain at the sudden stop, but Virgil’s head was tilted, as though carefully listening. After a moment, he turned to a nearby patch of shrubbery.

“Hey,” he called, voice lacking it’s usual edge. “I can hear you over there.”

There was a long pause, and Roman blinked as the shrubbery began to tremble slightly. There was actually someone in there?

“Easy,” Virgil said, lowering himself into a squat. “I’m not going to hurt you. I can help you find the way out of these woods, if you’d like.”  

After a moment, a small hand pushed part of the bush aside, peering out cautiously at them. Roman’s heart twisted at the kid’s face, smudged with dirt and tear streaks. They couldn’t have been more than eight.

Virgil shifted, and Roman felt a chill go through him, remembering who, or rather what he was with. He couldn’t let the giant lure the kid into whatever scheme he was planning.

“There you go,” Virgil coaxed, offering a hand to help the kid stand up. “It must have been scary, stuck out in the woods alone. You did good to stay in one spot.”

Roman bit down on the automatic urge to call out a warning, listening to the way Virgil carefully encouraged the kid to stand up and brush the twigs from their hair. This was important. He had to consider the situation from all angles before making a move.

If Virgil really wanted to abduct a random kid in the woods, he didn’t need to convince them of anything. He’d dealt with a trained slayer as though he was a minor annoyance, a kid wasn’t exactly a challenge. So why was he going to all this trouble?

Roman thought about the soft edges of Virgil’s expression when he gave Patton his coat back. Maybe… it wasn’t a ruse?

“I’m Virgil,” the giant in question said, shaking Roman from his thoughts. “And this is Roman. We’re travelling together.”

Roman startled, not expecting to be introduced. “Uh, salutations!”

The kid stared with wide eyes. “You’re so small!” they blurted, before covering their mouth hurriedly.

Virgil cut in before Roman could correct him. “He’s a pixie. Likes to cause problems on purpose.”

Roman huffed “I do not! Don’t let him fool you, I am a delight.”

The kid giggled, and Virgil’s shoulders relaxed slightly. Roman wished he could see his expression.

From there it was second nature to keep up a stream of chatter with the kid about everything from their favorite food (honey on bread) to their stance on frogs (cute but you shouldn’t kiss them). It grew darker and darker as they walked, and after the kid had almost tripped over stray roots thrice in rapid succession, Virgil had crouched and lifted them onto his back with ease.

Before long, the kid was snoring lightly, face smushed against his hood, and there was a surprisingly comfortable silence in the air between them.

Virgil broke it first. “Thanks for not freaking out. I didn't know you had it in you.”

Roman crossed his arms, ignoring how close he’d come to freaking out. “This doesn’t mean I trust you or anything. We’re still enemies, you’re just. Not as bad as you could’ve been.”

“Yipee,” Virgil deadpanned, shrugging his shoulder under Roman slightly to jostle him. Roman jabbed his elbow in the general direction of Virgil’s neck in retaliation. “Very gracious of you.”

“I certainly won’t be as gracious the next time you pass me off as a pixie,” Roman muttered, prompting a low, half-air laugh from Virgil. He realized belatedly that he’d assumed there would be a next time, and hadn’t been corrected. He wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or not.

What was it about this giant that made Roman feel at ease to speak his mind, even in such a precarious position?

Virgil slowed as they came up on the town again, crouching to gently nudge the kid awake and set  them on their own two feet again. “You’re home, kiddo.”

“Don’t go traipsing around in the forest again, y’hear?” Roman added sternly. “Not everything in those woods are as nice as us.”

The kid nodded solemnly, and then grumbled sleepily as Virgil ruffled their hair and pushed them towards the paved path into town.

Once the kid reached the town's edge, they turned around to peek over their shoulder. The two of them were already well out of sight, waiting until the kid had been safely whisked into the arms of their parents before departing.

Roman waited with bated breath, but despite their deal being over, Virgil seemed to have no intent of removing him from his newfound perch. He sunk deeper into the fabric as they continued to trek on.

For now, he could let himself enjoy this tentative peace.

[estellaelysian]

It burns (Ethan x MC)

A/N: This is super self indulgent and doesn’t lead anywhere so proceed on your own risk

**********

The alcohol scorched down his throat as he let his mind wander in the memories of the day, which seemed too distant now that it was over. Evening shaded into night beyond the red-brick walls of the bar – which were lined with numerous neon signs, the glow spilling onto nearby tables and people. Ethan chased the shadow of Alishka as his mind jumped from one moment to the next in all those where they had interacted with each other over the day. The image of her deep green eyes, wavy brown hair and full lips remained forever etched into his mind, giving him warmth like an eternal flame would.

It was late when he made it to this bar – Russo and Dale – but it was also when he found Boston the most loveable, shimmering in the glow of night, her streets thrumming with life and beating hearts and cheerfulness. He had taken an unnecessary walk from the hospital to his destination, wanting to feel anonymous in the dull crowd of people who were walking down the street. The permanence of the aged buildings, the restored Victorian row-houses surrounding English-style corners and the glowing yellow street lamps in South End seemed to give somewhat of a reassurance to his bruised and tired soul as he weaved his way among the sea of strangers. Walking wearily past dark shops, while the sky turned to a deep blue-black above him, he tried to find solace in the anonymity.

But now, at long last, when he found himself alone again, the unease returned, stronger than ever. He took a sip of the amber liquid, then another and then a third, but nothing seemed to ease him as he listened to the determined thud of a bass from the neighboring dive-bar. The foolish chatter around him did not drown out the rising voices inside his head – her voice and his, as they had argued in his office long into the afternoon.

That one argument had been enough to disrupt the entire balance he had built with the same woman whom he had disappointed today. But it was a mutual disappointment. She had been irrelevant to.

Shaking his head, he took another sip, letting the alcohol burn down his throat as he stared – quite intently – at the marble counter in front of him. It was amazing really, that the woman from whom he drew his strength could also be one of his greatest weaknesses. That was exactly why he had retired to his old office in the afternoon. He had lost focus, so instead of looking into patient care, he thought drowning himself into paperwork would help.

But indeed, it had not. Did it ever?

His mind, like a blissful dog scampering back to its lamppost, seemed to be stuck at the argument – making assumptions about the way she sounded, acted, spoke – no matter how much he tried to distract himself. Everything blurred around him, as if he had tuned out from his surroundings.

Why, he thought, was it so necessary for her to be insistent about things that did not matter to him? To latch onto one subject and stretch it until his patience snapped?

Or had he been truly unreasonable this time?

Oh dear God…

He swirled the gleaming liquid in its glass slowly before taking another sip, intent on numbing his brain, only that it refused from being so. Over and over again, her voice tortured him from deep inside; calling him out on the stubborn asshole he was before fading, only to return for the millionth time.

But wasn’t that the point of tonight? To get as far away as he could from the hospital, go to a bar in South End, and let the alcohol ease his pain and anxiety.

The door opened and someone stepped in, bringing together a cool Boston breeze and faint traces of wildflowers. Though his senses seemed unnaturally sharpened at this point, his eyes remained glued to his glass. But just a few seconds later, he found the woman right beside him, the scent of wildflowers much more perceptible.

Green flashed in his mind, deep and comforting, as he connected the scent, almost instinctively, to the one person it reminded him of.

Hold yourself, Ramsey.

In his peripheral vision, he saw the woman flag down the bartender and order a rainbow colored cocktail before turning away for a moment or two.

‘Quite the pain-relief, isn’t it?’ she asked in a mellifluous, sweet voice which fell like honey onto his tongue.

He could swear it was Alishka’s voice, but maybe he had dived too deep into the alcohol pain-relief. He had started imagining things.

Sensing that she was probably still expecting an answer, he nodded before looking straight at her.

And almost immediately, thought of Alishka Roy, even though he had put up a boundary between him and those insistent, maddening thoughts.

He didn’t realize it at first, but that smile – he would recognize it anywhere, anytime, no matter how detached he was.

But Alishka?

Nonsense. He was losing his mind.

‘I should’ve guessed my boss would come here after the much-exhausting day he faced at work today. It would’ve atleast saved me the time I spent wandering about.’

He raised his eyes to her face again. This was not an illusion. She was real, he thought, as he glanced at her hot coral lips which now wore an amused smile. He was not dreaming.

But why would she feel the need to wander about for him?

Do you really need an answer for that, dimwit, his mind chided.

‘Ofcourse you’d follow me here too,’ he said bluntly, battling away the sweeter responses, raising the glass to his lips.

‘You are not my boss outside of work, Dr. Ramsey. It is my freewill to do as I want to once I step outside the hospital.’

He looked up at her again, a smirk curling the corners of his lips. ‘Says the woman who bothers me all the same, inside or out.’

She made a dismissive wave, an easy laughter leaving her. ‘You’ve got a horrid sense of humor,’ she said. ‘Perhaps that is why everyone is terrified of you, even now.’

The last two words stung with an unimaginable burn, questioning the character he had spent years to build.

‘What do you mean, “even now”?’ he asked, the words coming out much more defiant than he wanted them to.

She smiled a benevolent smile as the bartender dropped off her cocktail, which smelled strongly of Pernod. Raising the glass up to meet her lips with tantalizing slowness, she said, ‘Even now, when they’ve learned that you can love something, someone more than medicine. Wholeheartedly.’

He choked on his drink involuntarily, but she went on, as if she hadn’t heard him at all. ‘And yet, at the same time, you can manage to be incredibly bitter to that someone.’

She took a long gulp of her cocktail, and again, before he could respond to her grievances, she said, ‘But anyway, I am not here to discuss that.’

Play pretend, he thought.

‘And why exactly, is it that you are here?’

‘Same as you. Pain-relief. My boss can be a real bore sometimes,’ she answered with the faintest traces of a smirk.

Let’s hear it now, shall we. ‘Who is your boss?’ he asked, going along with her little game.

‘Some world class, renowned, grumpy attending diagnostician.’

He liked how she complimented him and got a dig at him in the same sentence.

‘He seems to have a stressful job,’ he said, looking over the glass to her heavenly features, painted in the neon glow of the bar.

‘That he likes to imply. He is good at what he does.’

He nodded, trying to contemplate her answer, thinking that there would be traces of sarcasm in her answer, but found none.

‘Cheers to that,’ he said, clinking her glass with his own, their fingers brushing slightly, setting his body ablaze with the kind of fire that raged through forests. It was the closest they had got to touching that day, morning apart.

He finished the scotch in one long sip under her watchful gaze. Torture or bliss, there was no answer.

Though dulled by the excesses of the alcohol, he felt anger rise inside his body at the men who made glances in her direction, from a distance or even as they passed her. She seemed to draw much more gazes today than she did usually.

What exactly was it? Her rich brown hair, inching down her back, or those emerald eyes that gleamed with cleverness? And why, every time, did his jealousy had him to do things which he shouldn’t have been doing?

He didn’t know.

What he did know, was that he wouldn’t let those men even get near her.

So he raised a hand to her face, smoothing away stray strands of hair and tucking them behind her ear.

If she was surprised, she did not show it, but a lovely blush spread out on her cheeks, spreading down to her graceful neck and uncovered shoulders. She eyed him with a raised eyebrow, and he willfully ignored all the ideas that look gave him. Tonight was different. Even if they left the bar together, they would part ways almost as soon as they were outside, walking down in opposite directions.

Tonight they were fighting, even though it was different.

Even if he had to have his heart tugged and pulled and then torn, tonight was different.

Her emeralds met his sapphires, curious and bewitching.

He wished he could kiss those perfectly painted lips and ruin that makeup.

‘How about we make a deal then,’ she asked, setting down the glass on the paper napkin that was left on the shiny marble counter. ‘Tonight, let’s forget everything. Let’s forget that you are my irritating boss, let’s forget that I am a – what did you call me? – ah, bothersome resident. Let’s forget those men staring down at me from the opposite corner of the bar. Let’s put a pause on this battlefield, even though I am sure I can outwit you in every way, and let’ go home together.’

That was a tempting offer.

The suggestive tone and the desire burning plain in her eyes ignited his need for her.

How could he not resist her, even a single night?

His voice came out dusky when he spoke again. ‘Let’s put them topics to bed, and go fuck on the roof.’

Just to say that we did.

She smiled. ‘I’d rather your body than half of your heart,’ she said, quoting the song back to him, her voice the sweetest he had ever heard it to be.

Ethan blinked. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell her that he was far from fighting or if he wanted to claim those lips, right now, right here.

Then he saw, over her shoulder, a man whisper something to another before looking at her neck. He felt disgusted as his gaze traveled lower and lower. He was suddenly overcome by the desire to punch him in his filthy face, but he kept his expression carefully neutral, not betraying a single of the feelings he was feeling at that exact moment.

‘Let’s go home then,’ he announced, rising at once and reaching for her hand.

He led her outside into the cool crisp Boston night and she only felt justified in flagging down a cab to the way home, though it wasn’t that far away.

They could’ve walked there.

But then he wouldn’t get to do as he willed right in the cab, as he decided he need not waste a single minute of the time he had been gifted, by incidence or co-incidence, all the same. He failed to keep his hands to himself in the darkened cab, momentarily being illuminated by headlights and taillights of the passing traffic, as he crowed her into a corner, evoking soft moans. He watched her, bathed in red light, her sequined top glittering as the light shifted against her profile. Her eyes met his and he lost his sane, his coherent thoughts reducing to a small compass in his brain. Her lips commanded his attention, and he pressed his lips against them, evoking a gentle sigh as their breaths mingled. Her soft fingers grazed his rough beard as her hand rested against his cheek.

The music masked their muffled whispers and moans, but he could feel the drivers eyes, moving with unnecessary regularity, from the road ahead to the rearview mirror.

Even in the elevator, they stumbled, failing from keeping themselves from touching each other. The button to the thirteenth floor was pressed before he felt the soft pressure of her lips against his own. Her tongue was cool and sweet and tasted of Pernod.

‘Alishka…’ he managed to say between the kisses. ‘Why do we fight at all?’

‘Because we are …’ a little giggle. ‘Both … very stubborn …’

A few seconds later they stood at his door, which was unlocked with haste and shut close with a loud bang. The moment they stepped inside, he dipped his head and closed his lips over hers.

‘Nothing makes sense without you…’ he murmured into her ear, proceeding to tug her tight against him.

‘Then accept your defeat …’ she returned immediately, making a quick work of his shirt buttons. ‘But then again, we’ve called a temporary pause on this battlefield, haven’t we.’

Albeit reluctantly, he agreed. ‘We have.’

He led her to the bedroom, helping her out of her clothes before easing her down on the mattress gently, deciding the bitterness and pain had been enough for the day. The night had to be different.

Slow, gentle hands grazed the newly exposed skin with caresses too soft, before he leaned down on her, gazing into her eyes, letting his forehead rest against hers.

‘I love you.’

She giggled again. ‘I love you too.’

**********

Kudos to you guys if you made it out of this chaotic mess my brain put together. I honestly don’t know how this happened, but I guess it’s just me after a full, very real college day with loads of note-taking.

Tagging: @tenaciouslandvoidgiant @choicesaddict5 @schnitzelbutterfingers @starrystarrytrouble

Let me know if you want to be added or removed.

[elencelebrindal]

Time to ramble about Shun

Sooo... you said you wanted my rambling to become reality. Here I go. 

Shun not holding back for the whole series would have been a disaster for our dear villains, let me tell you.  But let’s go in order. And I mean, from training to Hades. Obviously, this completely disregards the fact that Shun was Hades the whole time, because if I am to take that into consideration everything would end before starting.  Small disclaimer, this is mostly anime-based. I’ve read the manga, but my memory is so bad in remembering what was just manga and what was just anime, and I have a better memory for the anime.  Also, this is going to praise Shun a lot. No, not because of my undying love for this character, but because logically speaking, he’s freaking powerful; this young man stood against a god that was possessing his body, dammit. 

Now, his training.  Of course, I won’t even imagine Shun actually going to Death Queen Island, mostly because it was Ikki, and not him, the reason why he went to Andromeda Island instead.  What we know, is that Shun nearly awakened his Seventh Sense there and then, when he donned the Cloth for the first time. And we know that he won the right to the trial after winning a fight against his “rival”.  But, before winning, he took a good beating, because he held back.  What would have happened, in the eventuality that Shun did not hold back? Well, probably just quicker access to the trial for the Cloth, but also... this might be the only time Shun not holding back would have affected him negatively.  What if he, by not holding back, lost his right to the Cloth? Andromeda is famous for her sacrifice, after all, not for her brave charging into battle.  This is mostly my own idea about it, because of course Shun was destined to become the Andromeda Saint, but luckily he held back, and only fought when he needed to. 

That aside, now it’s time to tackle all the positive things that could have happened had he not held back. 

Galaxian Wars / Black Saints Arc (forgive me, I forgot the actual name)

We had a taste of how smart and capable Shun is during his fight against Jabu, but all of that was thrown away thanks to Ikki’s appearance. Now, this doesn’t mean than Shun completely lost his competence, but he definitely held back for the sake of his brother.  This is obvious when we take into account the fight they all have against Ikki, when Shun tries to help his brother rather than stop him.  We already saw how dangerous Shun can be, when he faced Black Andromeda, so it’s easy to understand how much easier it could have been for the Bronze to stop Ikki if Shun was there to actively help against him.  Sure, he helped in the end, but he was probably the only one (at least at that point, because remember, he was the only one to have almost awakened the Seventh Sense) capable to stand his ground against Ikki.  Seiya’s success was more plot than skills, honestly speaking.  Shun could have been infinitely helpful, at least in making sure they earned a faster victory with less blood spilled.  To me, what we know about Shun’s power (though it’s only revealed later) makes it that he has a huge advantage that is ignored because of 1. Shun’s personality and 2. what’s needed for the plot and what was known of the plot. You all know he’s my favorite Bronze, at this point, but following a logical reasoning I cannot find something against this. 

On a side note, can you imagine how fast he would have destroyed Black Swan, if only he used his brain and not his heart?  Considering the outcome of his fight against Black Andromeda, and his knowledge about Hyoga’s techniques (which are kinda imitated by Black Swan), it’s not difficult to imagine he would have won.  He wouldn’t have done as good against all of them together, at this point of the story, but a one vs one fight would have definitely seem him victorious. 

Silver Saints Arc

I have no clear memory if that Docrates mess is in this arc or the one before it (the Italian division is a bit different and it confuses the hell out of me when I have to switch), but let’s put him here.  Because come on.  Shun getting thrown around like a doll? Yeah, no. Docrates might be a powerful - and not so brilliant or likable - warrior, but to the point of overwhelming a Saint like Shun with so much ease? I hardly believe it. I can  believe Shun having a hard time against him, especially considering how they won that fight.  Full power, I think Shun could have helped way more. I’m not saying he could have defeated a beat like Docrates all by himself, not at that point. Hyoga’s help was crucial for him to actually deal an effective blow.  But I’m pretty convinced they could have had a bit of a better time - especially Saori - because power makes the difference, even if it’s not enough to turn the tide without aid. 

Continuing with the same arc, we have another example of Shun being extremely competent and showing how strong he is when he doesn’t hold back.  How long did it take him to completely obliterate a Silver Saint? Not even enough to appreciate how badass he was.  It didn’t seem forced at all, more importantly! Most times, especially with Seiya, their victories seem so... well, convenient that it’s hard to believe they’re actually strong enough to beat their enemies. The plot armor around them is stronger than their actual armor, from time to time. This fight against Dante, instead, felt completely genuine. Shun and Ikki beating so easily two Silver Saints seemed incredibly normal and realistic, rather than feeling forced by the plot.  Of course, all the other characters have their genuine moments (yes, even Seiya), but I wanted to point this out for Shun in this particular instance because it’s necessary to understand how underrated he is. 

Sanctuary Arc

Moving on, we have what I like to call “Shun could have choked Saga to death and ended the entire Sanctuary Arc in less than five episodes”. Listen, does it seem so unreasonable? If it does, remember how Shun (with Ikki’s help, this is not something I’m ignoring, I like Shun but I don’t play dirty here) used his chain to break free of the Other Dimension (a place that’s supposedly impossible to leave? Hello????) and literally reached Saga where he was sitting.  What the hell, are we just ignoring the fact that he legitimately broke into the throne room of the most protected place of the entire Sanctuary, stole Saga’s cheap-looking trinkets, and shattered his control over him? For god’s sake, I’m SURE he could have at least managed to try and kill Saga where he was.  I’m aware he had no idea what the hell was going on, but had he used a bit more of his cosmo? A bit more of his concentration and intelligence? To me, it seems really weird that he only properly awakened his Seventh Sense so late in the arc. If Seiya was able to screw the plot over and get his precious Seventh Sense so early and easily, why wasn’t Shun given the same opportunity? Well, I know why, plot and everything, Shun’s actual power was still very much a mystery, but I’m going chronologically, and by logic. And what logic tells me is: Shun should have awakened his goddamn Seventh Sense there, realized he was stealing costume jewelry from the Pope, and at least knocked him out for the next couple hours.  For as much as i like joking about it, I know Saga is smarter and stronger than the average guy, Shun wasn’t going to be able to strangle him with the chain. But a good old pointy cosmo-powered chain to the forehead, well... come on. Would have been hilarious, other than useful. 

For the rest, the arc was pretty amazing.  His sacrifice for Hyoga? Yeah, he wasn’t holding back there.  And the fight against Aphrodite we all know how incredible it was.

Something I’m going to point out is how much Shun held back against Leda and Spica. That was all his personality, but he was able to defeat both of them in a couple seconds as soon as he used his true power.  I don’t really want to count that as holding back, but I have to. Because he was keeping his strength low, and it counts.  That was a time loss that could have been avoided. 

Asgard Arc

Now this, this makes me mad.  As soon as Shun leaves canon territory, it gets turned into this weak warrior with no desire to fight.  Either that, or he gets to fight but accomplishes little.  And this is exactly what happened in this arc. 

By now, we know how lethal Shun can be, and we know he awakened his Seventh Sense. It’s not theory anymore, it’s not fan wishes anymore, it’s Shun with one more sense to deal with.  And what happens? They give him the fight against the only enemy his goddamn chain doesn’t want to hit. Of course he gets that, and that his - actually beautiful - personality refuses to fight and instead insists on diplomacy.  Now, I loved that. I love how Shun tries to find a peaceful way around the war. But, once again, this is not the point of my rambling.  The point of my rambling is: Shun shouldn’t have needed Ikki to come and save the day.  Let’s take away Mime’s tragic backstory for a second, and let’s put Shun in the “classic” mind of a Saint; fight the enemy to the death, or die trying.  Shun would have won without any help. Sure, Mime is powerful, but Shun is as well. And we know that Shun is capable of facing enemies that use music as a weapon (as we learn later, in the Poseidon Arc).  Also, I’m pretty positive he has control over his chain, is not like the chain is going to ignore him like that. That weapon has a mind of its own, that’s true, but seriously speaking Shun has to be able to control it more than the chain controls itself.  That, and Shun himself refused to recognize Mime as an enemy.  Without holding back, Shun would have seen him as a proper enemy, and fought with no chain deciding “oh no no no, this is a friend!” like an overly friendly puppy.  Wrongfully, maybe, because as we learned Mime was, in fact, not a real enemy, but that’s not the point. 

Syd doesn’t really count. Shun was actually standing his ground against him, and incredibly well.  The reason Shun didn’t win right there and there was not him holding back, but the plot advancing and throwing Bud at him.  I don’t know how high I should hold this opinion, though, because to me it seems a bit weird that Bud is so powerful/stealthy that no one realizes he’s there. I’ve been skeptical about him, especially considering how he incapacitated freaking Aldebaran, but it is still a good reason for Shun not having won the fight.  Stealth can be more effective than raw power, sometimes.  Though, I believe Shun (and Aldebaran, for what it counts) should have been able to sense him. What, they’re going to show us the Saints can sense any kind of cosmo approaching them or far from them, but not realize that there’s someone right behind them ready to strike? Eh, it’s bizarre. 

Poseidon Arc

Right off the bat, he got his moment to shine against Io.  THAT, my friends, was incredible, and if Shun didn’t hold back - because he did, to avoid killing him, bless his merciful soul - Io would have died pretty easily.  Shun claimed his rights as Gold Saint, there, didn’t use all his power, and still beat the everloving soul out of him. 

Also, the fight against Sorrento? Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.  I literally have nothing to say, he had a reason to hold back there, and I will not give him a forced victory. Sorrento was on his level, and even though I think the Nebula Storm would have killed him (remember, that technique keeps getting more and more powerful the longer it’s used), they were pretty equal.  Shun didn’t hold back, save for when he understood what the hell was going on and got an ally. 

What I didn’t like, however, was how harshly he was treated when Poseidon was the threat. Damn, I’m not saying he should have been able to face a god, not without a Gold Cloth and not alone, but jeez, he ended up being completely ignored.  Like “wait, I’ll help!”, and then poof. Disappeared.  But in this instance, not holding back wouldn’t have made much of a difference. Unless you want to be 100% full of logic, and use the fact that Shun was already a vessel for a god, there’s no viable excuses for him to be able to fight a god on his own.  Not at that point in time, and not in his conditions.  Things work only if they can work. 

Hades Chapter

I don’t have much to say here.  Shun was incredible, he fought without holding back for almost the entire series, and showed an almost merciless side. A good handful of that behavior was Hades, if we go by how Shun was portrayed beforehand, but I like to believe he finally got his time to shine and acted competent again.  After hall, he had his angry moments back in the classic, they were no different from this chapter. 

What I will say, however, is how they diminished him in Elysium.  Because let’s face it: a Saint that not only survived one of the most powerful gods ever possessing him, but also tricked and held him back, had every single right to be powerful enough while wearing a God Cloth to obliterate Hypnos from the face of Elysium.  How are you telling me to believe that the same person that defeated the god of the Underworld just... fell asleep against a minor deity? He was the first to get his God Cloth without the plot aiding him (yes, I’m still salty about Seiya), yet he did nothing, and got defeated by Hypnos like he was a weak little boy.  I understand he’s a god, but Hades was worse! I’ll tell you what would have happened. Shun would have sent Hypnos’ sorry ass back in the void he deserved to be in (I actually like Hypnos okay, Shun doesn’t) without batting an eye.  Surely someone that was able to withstand Hades’ power - and overwhelmed it, even if for a short time - could resist some minor god’s power. 

To conclude, on the same not, Shun should have definitely punched Hades in the face.  He was probably the only one strong enough to do so, aside from Athena. And probably the one with the right to do so, also. 

This is probablt the stupidest rambling I’ve ever wrote on this blog, but I regret nothing. 

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

A collection of fics I’ve read (/reread) and thoroughly enjoyed in the past week-ish from all kinds of fandoms and genres.

BNHA

✩ #bakudeku by rageprufrock (+ podfic)

This is not a #bakudeku story, but if Izuku hadn't wanted Todoroki to give him shit about it, he probably should have thrown away that doujinshi Jirou had bought him.

you live/you learn/you love/you're dead by carolinaa

Two minutes pass before Aizawa taps Midoriya’s face and Midoriya doesn’t respond in the slightest. They don’t have time to wait any longer. 

Aizawa looks up at Todoroki, and tries to say with the least amount of callousness possible, “He won’t make it until the medical team gets here.”

Todoroki’s breath hitches, but his voice is still hard when he insists, “Yes he will.”

A Secret Torch by myheadinthecoudsnotcomingdown

A reporter figures out the secret of One for All and now Izuku has to deal with not only the fact that his biggest secret is now common knowledge, but also people's reactions to the fact that he kept it a secret in the first place.

Well, no one said that being All Might's successor was going to be easy.

ATLA

Unwanted Friends by FoiblePNoteworthy

Aang knew those swords. He’d seen them every day, felt the warm, if rough, presence of their owner in all his hardest moments and coldest flights. He was a strong figure, gentle in his own way. A Firebender who still used swords.

***

There needs to be more platonic soulmate AUs, you guys. Come on. Who wants to see Zuko get dragged into his redemption arc by his soulmates?

The Witcher

With a Conquering Air by inexplicifics (+ podfic) 

Part 1 of The Accidental Warlord and His Pack

From the kinkmeme:

AU Warlord!Geralt receives Tribute!Jaskier as a sacrifice to appease him in every way possible. Jaskier has no choice on the matter and he’s fully aware of the awful rumours that have spread about Geralt and his ruthless conquests. (But we all know those aren’t legit.) A classic angst with a happy ending please! A dash of smut to heal those scars and a sprinkle of new found love!

Jaskier arrives at Kaer Morhen knowing his family gave him up without a second thought, and absolutely sure that the dreaded Warlord of the North will value him even less than his own blood did. But the White Wolf and his pack are not what Jaskier expected...and if he's unreasonably lucky, Kaer Morhen might become far more of a home than Lettenhove ever was.

i am flesh and i am bone by ninemelodies

Geralt is pretty sure Jaskier isn’t quite human. He has a list of evidence, really, he does. And it starts with a petty challenge issued by Jaskier one night at a tavern.

The list grows from there.

where the wildflowers bloom by bloomerie

Jaskier might run with witchers and witches, but she is, in the end, human.

Untamed

Your slightest look easily will unclose me by RedWritingHood

"The curse is meant to physically manifest the emotions of its victim."

Jiang Cheng submits to the mortifying ordeal of being known.

Shattered Dreams by pupeez4eva

Wei Wuxian knew this scene all too well, and he knew what would come next — the flash of a blade, Jiang Yanli’s blood staining the Earth, her body dropping to the floor. He thought, ‘Lan Zhan, I’m sorry,’ and he held her in place as she reached forward to push him out of the way.

This time, Shijie wouldn’t die.

Baby Of Mine by pupeez4eva

Little A-Yuan makes an impromptu trip to the past, and all he wants to do is spend some quality time with his parents.

A teenage Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are not equipped to deal with this.

[anti-jack-kline]

(1) I am not gong top provide links or names but someone sent me an essay on how and why Jack should be loved and forgiven and I'm just wondering what the response would be from you guys. Its long so will be multiple message. I have no intent to attack the user that sent this, just want help debunking it: Keep in mind that you're a fan, too - as are the other people who passionately hate Jack and wish him every possible ill in the world. :-)

I honestly wondered how to tackle this. Quite frankly, I won’t post the essay here - googling something like that would be too easy, and I don’t even trust myself not to be snarky when it comes to the arguments put forth, so I will summarize and answer those I think I should. 

Quite frankly, the author is one of those who simply accepted the “Jack is family to Sam and Cas” because they were told by the writing to do so. Now, this is anyone’s right, but it will never be enough for me. We were never truly shown them becoming family - it just happened through magic and Jack hugging Cas going “I missed you” when they had not yet shared a single scene. So far, so good - they might call him family, I might not. 

There are, however, several points that I consider problematic. The first is that the author claims that because Sam and Cas are used to Dean’s “harsh” treatment of them when they are angry, it’s logical they would sympathize more with Jack - a rather stunning argument ESPECIALLY because they point out that Sam also lost his mother yet they consider his reaction apparently more healthy, in a way. This not only negates Dean’s right to be angry (which he does. Anyone has the right to be angry when someone makes a “mistake” and hurts them. I am using the word “mistake” on purpose here because he would have the right to be angry even if Jack had done something far less bad) but makes Jack once more the victim of said “harsh” treatment. Also, they assume that because of Dean’s attitude, Sam and Cas HAD to “force” their point of view on Dean - again, Dean is the unreasonable one and must be brought down some more. 

Then there’s the fact that they claim Sam and Cas, after all their own mistakes and blunders over the years, understand that you cannot just cut someone you love out of your life because he did something bad but should reach out - and try to help then find (actual quote) “a way back to health, sanity, and goodness”). This is for me the most dangerous argument I have read concerning this kind of behaviour. I am sorry, but no. You cannot heal everything with love, and more importantly, you can’t heal PEOPLE with love. Let’s say, Jack wasn’t soulless but had anger issues which led him to kill Mary - would Sam and Cas be responsible for him getting help? No! No one is responsible for someone not getting the help he needs, if he could. And Jack - again I hold firmly by that - knew he was dangerous, and they knew about a way to curb his powers. He could have chosen that.  Moreover: there comes a point, and that point may be a different one for different people, when toxic people are too toxic, dangerous people are too dangerous, addicts are too lost to their addiction. There comes a point when you, who might have been trying to reach out and help them, have to pull away for your own safety. There comes a point when love isn’t enough, being family isn’t enough, trying isn’t enough. There comes a point when you have to walk away, and someone killing your mother should be that point. (by the way: I could see why maybe Cas wouldn’t think much of one killing (how many angels did he slaughter?) but still - he has seen and experienced what the loss of their mother did to Dean, to Sam. He should know better as well.) In short, if this was the intended message - that family, that a loved one will ALWAYS be worth looking after, being helped, reaching out to - I believe it is a terrible and downright harmful one. 

And there is one last point I must adress, because frankly, it’s made me slightly ill to read. They claim the gang should all meet up in Heaven to discuss this and that - 

Mary should have the last word.  Now, first things first: SPN’s Heaven has always been shown to be awful, and that drive around they had Dean do in the finale did nothing to negate that. So when the author announces death is basically just a transference of consciousness so really, it’s not that bad (that’s what I read it as, anyway) that doesn’t cut it for me, and anyway, it seems to me like they don’t think death should be a big deal at all, which... I don’t agree with.  But now for the Mary thing. Apart from such meeting (thankfully) not being possible in the real world, this is what the author wants:  A woman, who was killed by someone she (according to the text) loved like a son, should be forced to sit down with her killer and talk it through. No. Just no. Even if he had only severely harmed her, she should not be forced to do that. And moreover - it also implies that only the direct victim of someone has the right to make the decision how anyone else should react. This is not how life could or should work. 

Okay, that were my two cents. Sorry if this got long and rambly, but I happen to feel passionate about such subjects.   

[ernmark]

Juno Steel and the Tools of Rust (pt 1) Reaction

This episode was a really great one.

Also, this episode is a microcosm of this show’s affect on me: things have been really rough for me lately, but when I started listening to it I was immediately drawn in, and it gave me so much to think about and connect to and feel for. This episode was so much of what I needed at this moment in my life.

Beyond that, spoilers under the cut.

There’s a lot for me to talk about, to the point that I’ve got a notepad next to my laptop for subjects that I feel will need posts of their own later on.

But let’s start with Jet.

Holy shit, Jet Siquliak. 

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

I was in platonic love with him already, when he was this beautiful giant of a man who is patient and quiet and wise and gentle and wonderful. And now we’ve seen inside his head, and I didn’t even know I could love him so much.

Because he’s not patient because it’s his personality, he’s patient because he works really, really hard at it. He’s quiet because he’s making an effort to listen and be mindful. He’s wise because he’s done some shit and he’s hit some serious lows and he’s grown and regretted and learned from it all. He’s gentle because he knows exactly how destructive and cruel he can be, and he has made the choice to do otherwise. 

I’m so glad he’s got Rita around, because I want to hug this man a thousand times.

That piece of wisdom, he shared? That takes on a thousand times greater significance now:

JACKET: We may look backwards only to ensure we have not come this way before. (Soul of the People)

God, he’s had a lot to look back on. 

This is a man who was a serious, serious addict, it sounds like. And now he doesn’t use anymore. Not even caffeine. 

JACKET: It means I am thirsty. It is large because I am very thirsty, and decaffeinated because I have a predisposition to addictive— (Time Gone By)

And despite that, he was working as a bartender during Time Gone By. Not just being in the same room as some serious drink, but actively handling it and mixing it and everything. I know not everyone’s recovery is the same, but I’ve heard enough people talk about theirs that I know that’s no mean feat.

And not just in the lighthouse, but on the Carte Blanche, Buddy talks about both herself and Juno taking liberally from their supplies, and Jet flatly assures her that he’s not partaking. It’s implied that they’re talking about alcohol (maybe that’s the only thing she can really consume for calories?), maybe it’s coffee, who knows, but she’s concerned and non-judgmental, and he’s steadfast.

Seeing that man that we know-- even if we didn’t know him nearly so well-- as he used to be? The Unnatural Disaster? That chilled me to the bone. That hysterical laughter, that intensity in his voice, that utter glee at the thought of mass murder.

And he’s still haunted by it. He refuses to be any part of that, even slightly, but it’s still there, and still a part of him, and he’s got to work with it and fight against it every day.

And right now Rita’s going to help him with it.

Let’s talk about her, shall we?

Because Buddy knew exactly what she was doing, just like she knew what she was doing when she put Juno in a shiny ballgown and had Peter pretend to be his husband. 

Because Rita has the patience of a saint, but also she’s got fifteen years experience dealing with Juno and all his mood swings, all his self-destruction, all his angry outbursts, all his enemies, and even beyond that, she’s incredibly competent and interested.

She’s an incredible stabilizing element. She’s seen it all before, and she’s not going to judge, she’s not going to get mad, she’s not going to be weird about it. She’s going to be gentle when she needs to be, but otherwise she’s going to just be Rita. 

And this episode really brings it home: she knew Jet’s name the instant she heard it. He was the clear subject of not one but two streams, at least one of which involved him committing mass murder. 

And her reaction right away was “and I’m RIIIIIITA!” over and over again, and then she gets on Jet’s bike with Juno. “If she was scared,” Juno tells us, “She didn’t show it.”

The first time she shows any sign of fear is when he takes her and Juno to an empty stretch of desert in the middle of nowhere, and not unreasonably so:

RITA: You, uh, ain't gonna kill us, Mista Jet, are you? Cuz it would be really super easy to right now, there ain't any witnesses and all that, and-- (Soul Of The People) 

And then the ship lands and she gets on it anyway. 

And when she digs deeper into him, she doesn’t see a killer who might revert back at any moment. She sees him as so fundamentally different from who he once was. He’s not like that anymore. She acknowledges and understands the worst of a person, but still chooses to see the best in them, even during a backslide. 

When he slams a door or breaks a reactor, she knows exactly what he’s capable of doing to her. And yeah, you can hear some trepidation in her voice. But she doesn’t run. She’s still right there, soothing him. Talking him through it, bit by bit. When he fucks up completely, she assures him it’s wonderful timing that it got broken while they’re still able to resupply. When he starts stalling, she eases him back into motion.

She is really, really good at bad mental health days. 

And Buddy knew this would be a bad mental health day. She warned Jet ahead of time that this mission was going to be full of triggers. She gave him time to figure himself out, she gave him space, and then when he started self-isolating, she sent him back inside to do simple mechanical tasks with the one person who’s most qualified to help him through this patch. 

It’s just really nice. 

--

I’ve also spoken in the past about the shape of this season, and I think we’re finally starting to see that shape unfold.

We’ve now got Juno, who’s finally left behind Hyperion City, dealt with his mother and the death of his brother, and decided to work on his depression.

We’ve got Peter, who thought he could freeze himself in one state of being forever (”in glass”, if you will) and finally decides to be a part of his own future, starting with all those things he’s filed away.

We’ve got Jet, who’s so frightened of his past self that he gives it its own name and cages it behind a calm facade. 

We’ve got Buddy and Vespa, both of them legends, one imprisoned and one enslaved, neither of them the woman they used to be. 

We’ve got Rita, who’s so mysterious she doesn’t even let Juno speak her name aloud.

And yes, that means I sincerely believe we’re going to get POV episodes from Buddy, Vespa, and Rita before the season’s end, and I am absolutely thrilled. 

Beyond that: we’ve got Nova Zolotovna, who was rendered unrecognizable by a magnificent haircut.

We’ve got our current mark (I don’t trust myself to spell their name without a script in front of me), who seems to be trying to change, too.

Hell, even Dark Matters seems to be in a period of transition.

Right now we’re all about transformation, about coming to terms with the past and allowing yourself to be grow and change beyond it. 

That’s just so cool, you guys.

[mistytpednaem]

So, what’s up with Another Me?

Honestly, I tried to draft this post, but the mental block made me decide to just go for it stream-of-consciousness style. Which I hope doesn’t bode poorly or anything. But here goes!

The Past and the Present

As you may know, I’ve been at this for a while now! Since 2014, in fact. In that time, I’ve gotten through the prologue and... most of chapter one (fun fact: I do have the entirety of this story mapped out! We are transitioning into what should be the final scene of this chapter. Originally, I wanted to make this post - or something along these lines - once I finished the chapter, but I figured since the year was about to end I’d be better off doing it now).

Now, let’s not mince words: that is a long time. I have six chapters total (not counting the prologue) mapped out for this comic, and there is more I’d like to do beyond it (what I like to call Arc 2, or, as you may or may not know:  The Part Where My Pet Character Marco Evangelisti Actually Shows Up). If I keep going at the current pace, I will probably not be done within my lifetime. So, if I’m aware of this, what gives?

... I mean, damn. There’s a lot I could point to; I was finishing my degree until 2016, and I suppose that takes something out of you. I have unreasonably high expectations for myself, as the people closest to me know. “2020 was a bad year for everyone,” I tell myself, before I also go on to say, “but even though updates slowed down even more this year, it’s not like they’ve been particularly speedy for the past couple of years, and I haven’t had that bad of a year anyway, so that’s a shoddy excuse.” And then some semblance of reasonable thought comes over me and reminds me my grandfather had a stroke in March of last year and passed away in early June of this year, and I’m like “I mean, okay, I guess I’ve been through SOME things.”

But lighthearted reflections aside, there are more actionable problems I have identified - such as, in an overarching sense, my attitude. My friends made me realise this some time late last year, and while I’ve been trying to work on it, I have to admit I’ve made very little progress: at some point, I developed a seriously unhealthy relationship with my art. Here is how my workflow has tended to go:

Start scripting update. I have a small readership, but that’s okay; I am grateful for every suggestion, I can work with this, and I AM building towards something that excites me.

Script done, regardless of insecurities. It’s time to start working on the actual panels. This sketch didn’t come out exactly the way I intended, but hopefully it still works (alternatively: this sketch looks promising! I am excited about this sketch. Sometimes, I do feel happy with my sketches).

Oh dear. I was hoping the lineart would help a little (alternatively: oh dear. the lineart completely ruined this perfectly fine sketch). Maybe it’ll still look alright with colour?

Oh no. I hate it, actually. I suppose I’m too sloppy; I should be more careful next time. 

(Repeat for however many panels i have planned for an update, typically with mounting guilt the longer I take on each one, because I keep taking longer and longer and, to my eyes, there is no improvement.)

Well, as my friends keep reminding me, done is better than perfect. Let’s post it!

The update is posted to a small readership and a quiet response, which, again, is okay, but leaves me wanting for feedback that I cannot get because I am reluctant to spread the word for several reasons, one of them being that I’ve convinced myself my work isn’t good enough.

Rinse and repeat, with the process continuing to be slow - if not turning exponentially slower - because apparently when things make you feel bad your brain starts wanting to protect you from them.

Apologies if this is a little harsh, but it is genuinely the most sincere breakdown of The Whole Deal that I can produce.

The good news is there are things I can do about this! Not easy things, granted, as they tie deeply into a lot of the recurring neuroses in my life, but in theory, the more I embrace imperfection, and the less I worry, the faster I should be able to work, and I should start getting some serotonin out of the whole thing again. In theory. This is not the only issue, however, and I have good and bad news about the other issue I’ve identified:

I don’t think the forum adventure format is working in its current shape.

It’s not about the suggestions - I love working with suggestions! Reader interaction is fun, it’s already shaped a good number of things and I hope it continues to do so. It’s more of a matter of visibility. Tragically, forums are not the most In Vogue things these days, and that reflects itself in, well, poor visibility. I’ve tried to remedy this by allowing suggestions through MSPFA, Tumblr and Twitter as well, but honestly, it hasn’t helped much. I think I’ve only gotten one or two suggestions through MSPFA? And don’t get me wrong, I’m sure this is in great part because of my passive role in getting the word out! But it’s all contributing towards this strange, shrinking spiral of a feedback loop.

The good news is that, since I have identified this problem, there should be an actionable solution. The bad news is I’m not quite sure what form that solution should take just yet.

The Future

Whew, that was a lot. So, what’s in store for 2021 and beyond?

Well, er, like I’ve implied, I’m a little unsure. But that’s my default state of existence, so let’s go over what I think.

When I finish chapter one, I would like to find a proper hosting place for AM. As I said, I don’t think the forum thing is quite working out, and MSPFA is a wonderful website, but I feel AM has little to do with most of the content on it beyond the second-person narration and the script-style dialogues. Whether that means a change in format is needed along with the change in hosting, I’m not sure; I would like to keep the whole “one panel per page with text underneath it” deal, which... should be doable on most places, but in this current year, I’m frankly not sure how it would come across, haha.

(I’m also not sure what this hosting place should be, mind you; potentially a wordpress blog with a layout tailored for comics, but drawing isn’t actually my day job, so I’m not sure how viable paying for a domain name might be. Or hosting, for that matter, should I need it - but imgur has been friendly enough of an image host so far.)

What I do know is that I want to keep the suggestions, even though I’m not entirely sure how well that will work without a forum structure. Comments on a post, perhaps? Maybe. But we can’t forget that this doesn’t solve one of the other big issues, which is my reluctance to advertise. And there’s still, you know, my unhealthy, unreasonably high standards affecting my entire workflow.

... But that all kind of comes back to one thing, doesn’t it? The fear of taking the plunge? That’s what I need to overcome. Plans are a good first step, but they mean nothing if I don’t act on them. Which is part of the reason I’m talking about all this - so people can hold me to my plans.

(Plus, like, offer feedback and opinions. That’s very valuable too.)

This whole Future section is a whole lot more uncertain than, I think, even I hoped for when I started writing this post. But I hope what I’m trying to say comes across in some kind of way - not just in the sense of this being elucidating (which, don’t get me wrong, hopefully it is!), but also as far as conveying my feelings to my friends and readers is concerned.

I’m going to keep trying, and I know I’m a little lacking in the Doing department, but now you all know what’s been on my mind. Thank you all for the support, stay safe in These Trying Times, and hopefully we can all keep growing together.