#i may talk about them at a later time but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[nattikay]

bedtime

NOTE: stä'noli should be stolä'ni, that was a pretty rudimentary mistake and I'm not really sure what was going on in my brain when I wrote it but 😅 maybe i'll fix it on the image later but i can't be bothered right this minute, i'm already up way later than I should be as is (have an early day tomorrow)

Further language notes/rambling under the cut!

"wait, isn't Jake supposed to be spelled Tsyeyk in Na'vi?" Yes it is! And if I'd given that line to a monolingual Na'vi speaker I would've spelled it that way. BUT Neytiri is bilingual and does not pronounce it "Tsyeyk" (I mean, technically she doesn't say "Jake" either, it's more like "Zheyk" but w/e). So for her specifically I keep the j. I suppose at that point I could've just kept the English spelling completely, but leaving silent letters at the end like that makes things weird in written Na'vi given all the grammatical endings that can be applied (not that that matters in this comic because they weren't needed for the line but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

Speaking of Jake, writing Na'vi dialogue for him is fun to me because he's not a native speaker which means I'm free to give him all sorts of beginner habits and/or mistakes, especially given that by his own admission he struggled learning the language. However, since I'm working within a pretty broad time frame, I had to remind myself that he wouldn't be a beginner forever.

I bring this up because there are two aspects of Jake's dialogue here that I was going to point out as...well, not wrong, but as more "English-y" habits I'd headcanoned he might hang on to...but on further reflection changed my mind because I realized that at the time of this comic he's been living with the Omatikaya for nearly ten years and would be pretty much fluent. I still left it written that way but am no longer headcanoning that that's ~just how he talks~ at this point in his life. After all, if I'm conscious of these habits after just two years of studying the language as a casual hobby, is it really believable that he'd be clinging to them after nearly a decade of full daily immersion, even with his self-admitted struggle with language learning? 😅

Anyways, for the sake of rambling about my hobby regardless, one of these aspects was using SVO word order, like English. Na'vi is a free-word-order language, so SVO is valid, but most Na'vi speakers are not going to stick to it exclusively. I think Jake, like many native-English-speaking learners, may have relied on this word order earlier on because that's just how his brain has been wired to process information, but at this point I think just by sheer exposure he'd have broken out of any strict adherence to it, intentional or otherwise.

The other thing is concerning possessive. The standard Na'vi grammatical ending for possessive is -yä. But Na'vi grammar also includes a concept called inalienable possession, which refers to things that are intrinsically yours and cannot be given away. What exactly qualifies as inalienable varies between languages that have such a concept, but with Na'vi it's most commonly seen with body parts. Inalienable possession can be marked with -yä, but there is a slight preference to mark it with the topical, -ri, instead. So, compare:

Peyä mehinam lu ngim. His legs are long. Pori mehinam lu ngim. His legs are long (lit. "concerning him, the legs are long")

Both of these are considered acceptable, but the -ri version is considered just slightly "better" (for lack of a better term).

You'll notice that Jake uses peyä instead of pori here; this was because the peyä structure is a more direct equivalent to the English construction, so it's pretty common for new learners to use it instead of -ri. And again it's not wrong, so it's not exactly a mistake per se. So it seemed like a reasonable "Englishy-but-still-technically-correct" habit for Jake to hang on to. And I do still think that may well have been in the case...in his earlier years 😅

soooo yeah. I will still probably be giving Jake some of those speaking habits in comics and such that take place only 2-3 years after A1, but once you get to around 10 years like this one...yeah I think it'll make more sense to just write his dialogue like that of any other fluent Na'vi-speaking character lol

[doubledyke]

Which are some of your unpopular opinions?

hmm well i don't think most of my takes are that hot tbh. our community here is pretty small so there's usually some overlap with head canons/fanon, etc. most of us are on the same page, or at least in the same chapter lmao. which is great! and even when i see a take i might not wholeheartedly agree with, i feel like it's still added to my subconscious lore to be explored later.

right off the bat, i guess one hot take might be that i find the theme song pretty grating 👀 i skip it every time. it's probably because ive heard it so many times since i was a kid up to now. i don't even really have a nostalgic or sentimental attachment to it at this point.

all my mutuals know this already, but season 1 is my favorite season, which i don't think is the case for most fans. i made a whole long post about that already though.

im already drawing a blank here ummmm

well, i probably have a lower opinion of edd's parents than most people in our little community. realistically it makes more sense that they're simply absent (neglectful) due to their demanding jobs, and that they work hard to give edd a good life, etc. but i tend to view it as more of a malicious, conscious choice. i like angst and drama, what can i say ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

this one isn't really a hot take these days, especially among the tumblr crowd, but i like when edd is portrayed as the morally complex character that he is. i don't think he's all good or all bad. he's way more realistically ambiguous than that. i'd say i do lean towards him being a bit more devious than most though.

moving more into head canon territory here, but

i don't talk about this one a lot because it's totally projection, but i think edd would have issues with alcohol. between his autism, his ocd and his unloving parents, i think he'd hit the bottle a little too hard after realizing how much he likes the way it makes him feel. but he'll work through it eventually don't worry.

uhhhh let's see

again, not a scorching hot take here, but i enjoy edmay, and it's not because i don't want ed to be a "third wheel" (he's lowkey a third wheel in the show, but anyway-), it's because they're cute. that simple. i'm totally cool with ed being asexual, and i think it fits his character a bit more tbh. but i really like may, and i think her experience as the sort of outcast among her sisters is a good match for ed's experience as somewhat of an outcast even among his already outcast friend group. i think they make a very cute, very weird, and probably very smelly couple.

i have sympathy for bro! i think many of us do, but yeah. obviously he's really shitty towards eddy and even the other kids, but you don't just wake up one day and decide to be a "monster". he's clearly got trauma and issues of his own and while that's not an excuse, it's worth acknowledging. i'm fascinated by eddy and bro's dynamic and it's one of my favorite things to analyze and speculate about.

to me, it's likely that eddy would try to date girls in middle/high school, perhaps even beyond. i don't see him and edd even really addressing their deeper feelings until after graduation because of eddy's internalized homophobia and deep-seated denial of his sexuality. he'd still be worried about what people think in that regard. idk, i know a lot of folks see them being together shortly after bps, or even in high school but personally i don't see it. like edd knows how he feels, but he's not gonna push it. he'll let eddy figure it out on his own. plus it's amusing to imagine how awkward it would be for eddy and the poor girls that fall victim to his farce.

you'd think i'd have more hot takes about eddy but i think i post most of my thoughts about him pretty openly lol.

oh, i kinda hesitate to bring this one up cuz it's hard to explain or back up with much evidence, but PERSONALLY, i think eddy is pretty smart. i love to harp on his malapropisms as much as the next guy, and obviously he's immature and all the other negative adjectives associated with teenage boys. but he's very clever and witty, and like most kids with terrible trauma, "wise beyond his years". he's inventive and resourceful. he's good at analyzing people (in some circumstances) and learning what makes them tick. and despite being unable to come up with an example at the moment, sometimes the words and phrases he uses, and just generally the way he talks is more....advanced? than you'd expect from someone who can't spell "respect". i dunno, i'm sure at some point i'll make a long-winded post about this subject but suffice to say, eddy is smarter than he gets credit for.

but yeah nothing super controversial i wouldn't say. i have some weirder headcanons that im sure ill blab about at some point, but for the most part like i said, im pretty outspoken with my eene opinions. thanks for asking!!

[katkat030]

I remember you mentioning “The Watchers”, who are they? Can you tell me some lore behind them?

This is a rabbit hole that I don’t fully have time to go down myself right now but there’s a gold mine of information here and it can be split into about 3 parts.

From what I know:

There’s the original Watcher lore which is canon to Grian’s Evolution SMP, which started in 2017 and ended just over a year later. My knowledge of the SMP is mostly second hand, but the premise of it was to run through all updates of minecraft in order from the earliest version (buggy, grainy, fairly difficult to survive) to the more recent ones (transitioning bit by bit into the game we know today)

Evo smp and watcher lore is really concisely explained in a tumblr post here.

from the Evo wiki: Grian's final episode of the server was of the dragon fight, where he joined The Watchers when everyone jumped through the portal after killing the dragon. His joining of the Watchers had a modified end screen poem, where a text color representing Grian and additional text mentioning some of the other Evo members was added in. if you follow the link to The Watchers you’ll get more information on what exactly they are!

Grian talked about Evo and the watchers briefly in a podcast a good few years back (co-run by the same person who voices the Hermitcraft recap actually, Pixlriffs!) - when he joined Hermitcraft in Season 6, it's my understanding that his version of watcher lore ended with Evo. Canonically, Hermitcraft!Grian isn’t influenced by them at all. This isn’t the case in fan lore, which I’ll touch on later. There happen to be some incredibly interesting example of a what-if-they-do-follow/influence/kidnap/affect-him by talented writers, so if you want fanfic recommendations just ask :3

Where it gets really interesting is that creator Martyn, ign InTheLittleWood, decided to continue a version of watcher lore. This "eyesandears" (<- tumblr tag for it. Will contain spoilers) watcher lore is only canon to his interpretation of the series, and isn’t a server-wide thing that others incorporate into their videos. This runs throughout the life series and includes cryptic poems/rhymes, elaborate reasonings for why canonical events took place, Jimmy’s canary curse, who remembers the events of previous seasons and so on.

Note that the life series isn’t scripted, and has very loose guidelines for how players should act besides adhering to the rules. Martyn therefore has the story adapt as the series evolves (pun unintended), and a great example of this was his stream after limited life (life series iteration number 4) ended. He’s also on tumblr, because of course. This is his vod - I don’t have the time to go through it again myself. It contains lots of spoilers, but if you hang around in the fandom long enough you’ll begin to recognise the winners of each season and a few key events/alliances/betrayals/plot points regardless. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

As far as I know, none of the other life series creators really know much about this or keep this in mind when the life series is going. It doesn’t influence them, nor does Martyn seem to go out of his way to incorporate huge amounts of it into his own pov. The lore adapts to what the players do, not the other way around.

There’s also the fanon (fan canon) watcher lore which is incredibly well (and quickly!) covered by Ezzriin, I’ll link that video here - this is more important for understanding why Grian’s depicted the way he is (and exactly what that usually entails).

The links I’ve included explain things better and more concisely than I can. Martyn’s 2 hour vod may take some time to get through, but I recommend at least checking out the others! :)

[cozymochi]

12 for the artist meme!!

12. Ever participated in a multi-artist collaboration (3 or more) such as a multi-animator project?

Sigh. Hope you like stories.

Well. Yes. I joined ONE re-animated project for a previous fandom. And since I’m pretty sure it’s never coming out, I’ll talk about it.

But due to what I can only gleam as mismanagement and severe lack of communication (regardless of the admins real-life job), and lack of truly enforcing deadlines, as far as I’m aware it never came to fruition. It was probably 99% finished but because a single person never bothered doing their part and because the admin never took it upon themselves to pick up the slack from others to at least get it finished nor update anybody (let alone not having backups…), it has sat in limbo.

That was nearly four years ago. I left that projects discord a while ago, but it’s not like it ever updated. So as far as I’m aware that project is dead in the water. I certainly consider it one. So that killed my momentum on ever joining group projects for a while.

Until recently where I’m once again testing the waters in a different thing!

…However, I’m already having early reservations about it.

And no offense to anybody at all, and it may be just me: but I do expect a certain level of decorum in group projects like that. I know I haven’t participated in many in fandom spaces, and people will want to be as chummy as possible for a lax environment (and I’m all for that, believe me), but… I don’t know. Once you bring in a bunch of people and know you’re using up others free time, I would except some level of efficiency, regardless of what level it is. But, it did just start, and I have no obligation to speak (most times I do not), but I do observe. And what I have observed is ringing some warning bells.

Maybe it’s because I have experience running and managing group art projects in a somewhat professional capacity, (at least IRL), and also knew when something would or would not work out and are very very used to planning for every possible outcome and obstacle.

Who knows if I’ll stay. For all I know it’ll work out… but regardless of how it fares, it likely wouldn’t change my perception much on these sorts of projects.

OH! And one time I was scouted to join an overly ambitious, vague, vanity project for an extremely shady character disguised as a production hub. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I dodged a bullet purely because I could see the red flags from a single conversation. Cut to two years later and there’s a whole callout post and google docs and everything. (And every gut red flag I hypothesized was correct, disappointed but not surprised.)

It’s safe to say I do not have a high opinion on fandom group projects and usually will not involve myself in them. I don’t even have high opinions on ones I have zero involvement in and merely just observe from the sidelines. If it sounds too ambitious and allegedly is going well, I can already suss out it will die randomly from internal problems. *cough*

I don’t know, it takes a lot to get me to join anything, and the recent thing I’m in is because I didn’t dig as much as I should have against my better judgement cuz I wanted to have good faith and take peoples word on experience at surface level… But, only time will tell, and right now at this time I’m currently apprehensive.

… that said I could probably never run one of these myself. I think about it sometimes… especially when my mind goes in every direction… but ultimately? I probably couldn’t. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Mostly because of my high expectations and low tolerance of flaking. (Amongst various other things)

I consider my time important, and I would hope others would consider their time important too. My impression of these things have become so warped that even hypothetical projects will initiate my fight or flight.

But if I did want to manage one, it’d probably have to start reaaaally small.

[redspacegirl]

Okay okay okay. I actually got out my laptop because there’s no way I’m typing all this out with my fingers. I will be using mostly correct punctuation, which is like,,, insane for me (except the comma ellipsis you can pry that out of my cold dead hands).

IT IS OC TIME LET’S GOOOOOOOOOO (cool art at the end if you stick around :>>>)

So, I’m gonna start with Flow and Michael, who are kinda the main characters in one of my oc “universes”. One of my big dreams is to make a webcomic, and I have a whole plan for it, and this is supposed to be the main duo. I may add another to make it a trio (both of the potential additions I’ll talk about later), but for right now this is the 100% main duo.

I’ll start with Michael. Michael Mintz is 16, somewhere between 5’7” and 5’10”, and a total dumbass /aff. He is incredibly anxious all the time, a people pleaser, usually pretty quiet, and totally awkward to most people if he doesn’t know them well (im not projecting im not-). He and Flow live in this backwater town in Oregon called Dewsbury (sorry to my dnd group, I came up with the name a while ago it’s just my go-to town name ¯_(ツ)_/¯). It was one of those towns that was pretty populated a long time ago, but people just kept moving out, so now there’s a bunch of creepy old buildings. Michael is (and has always been) really interested in the paranormal. Obviously, this is the perfect place for a kid to be interested in the supernatural. Despite really liking ghosts, this dude is easily scared, and probably wouldn’t have ever gone in a single creepy building were it not for:

Flow Rios!!! They’re pretty much Michael’s opposite in many ways. They’re loud, pretty energetic all the time, and-seemingly-don’t worry about what others think of them. They also like exploring old creepy buildings with Michael, but less for the freaky ghost stuff and more for the cool old abandoned building stuff. They moved to Dewsbury somewhere around 5th grade, after the accident, where they met Michael (he’d lived there his whole life). They were the one who originally convinced Michael to go screw around in those old buildings. Flow is also pretty competent when it comes to feeling stuff, which leads to them acting as Michael’s free therapist friend.

I think this can (and will most certainly) lead to problems, because Michael can be pretty ignorant of other people’s feelings, and Flow is good at covering things up.

Something else I didn’t mention (though is pretty implied with Flow), Flow’s nonbinary, and Michael is trans! This will be important to both of their characters, actually.

Rapid fire stuff rq, Michael is nosy as hell, Flow lives with their aunt, their mom works overseas, Michael’s parents can be pretty helicopter-y at times, Michael’s a really bad liar usually, and I don’t think either of these two should be allowed in the kitchen (I think combined it would either end up okay or REALLY bad).

THAT’S THE MAIN DUO AND A LOT OF WRITING, I WILL YAP ABOUT THESE TWO THE MOST BUT I WILL MAKE MORE BIGASS POSTS ABOUT THE OTHERS AT SOME POINT!!!

for art, heres some doodles ive made:

the first three pages of the comic (v rough draft):

and their semi-old designs:

i would add more of the art i made of them but tumblr will not let me atm so this is all for now!!! :D

[monsieuroverlord]

NYX #1 Thoughts:

It was alright, very Kamala/Ms. Marvel and Sophie-focused. It was a decent set up of the premise, and I'll keep an eye on it.

Spoilers:

The Krakoan is Julian Keller/Hellion as everyone called it. Just in case anyone missed the leaks on Twitter.

Him and the rest of Cuckoos are apparently working with Empath, and the current implication is that he may be amping up and/or twisting their post-Krakoa emotions.

Anole, we didn't see much of, other than he's a bartender now.

Not only is David teaching, but he's also a tenure-track professor.

As someone who works for an American university, I'd be so curious to see how that happened. I mean, at least for the department I work for (very research-heavy stem field), its a LOT to negotiate tenure-track, even with years of experience and a Ph.D. Its like a 3-4 day marathon of presentations, wining-and-dining, meetings after meetings, tours, and a red-eye flight back home. You basically gotta meet everyone in our department and not only show that you know what you're talking about, but also that you won't be an asshole to the established professors (I know this, because I'm the one assisting in organizing everything and making sure the right faculty shows up on time to give a lab tour to the applicant, lol)

I think in some areas, you can get away with an M.S. degree for tenure, but in most cases, its Ph.D.

And that doesn't even mean you are guaranteed to get tenure. There's a whole other review process for that.

Anyway, Sophie is right to call it out here. It does kinda feel like a hand-out. I wonder if that will come into play later?

I'd like to see David's point of view first, though. Maybe there's a secret plot where some of the faculty are evil and its an anti-mutant trap to lure him into a false sense of security. But he's too smart for that and plays them. I don't know.

Or maybe he got his P.h.D. That'd be dope.

I don't trust David's new boyfriend. He hasn't said much yet, but I don't trust him.

This issue is heavily focused on Kamala's point of view, and strongly features Sophie as well. It makes sense, as Kamala is the "newer mutant" in a sense, and serves well to introduce the reader to the setting and potentional storylines to follow.

Sophie and Kamala also have a budding friendship, and I think it's very cute.

I think the next issue at least is supposed to shift to Laura's point of view.

We also don't see too much of Laura, and she didn't appear to be in the college class? Maybe she joins later, or is a guest speaker, I don't know. OR maybe she's going undercover?!?!

We did get this pretty image on the opening page:

Laura only runs into Kamala while she's investigating a mutant terrorist attack.

I love her new look so much. It's very fashionable and actually makes her look distinct from Logan while she's still clearly a Wolverine. Props to the designer.

And now Marvel needs to free Akihiro from Hellverine psuedo-death-ressurection and give him a unique outfit and/or codename too. Thank you.

Laura really only says this though:

I don't know how I feel about her characterization here. I mean, its not the worst thing, but it lacks context for me.

I mean, what is Laura doing? Where is Gabby? Is Akihiro still dead and she's surly with grief? (because Hellverine hasn't finished yet and we don't know how that will end) Does she feel like she has to pick up the pieces and play hero because Logan fucked off to the Canadian Wilderness again?

I have many questions about my girl and her general well-being.

In general, I'm currently on the fence about her characterization. It could go either way.

I suppose we'll have to wait until next issue ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

In summary, it was a decent set-up. I read the X-Men Monday interview, so there was nothing that surprised me. Art is very good.

Also, this is me being a grumpy old bastard, but I hate the QR code pages they're doing now. Just print the damn page. I tried the scanner on both my phone and tablet, and it kept redirecting me to a broken link and I get a "500 Internal Error" message. I have no idea what that page is about. I personally don't like this concept of secret QR code pages and is irritating.

For digital reading, its more okay, but I also buy physical copies. I don't want to have to whip out my phone and/or tablet just for a gimmick to get the full issue. And who knows if the website eventually goes defunt years from now and then the QR codes are rendered useless. Then what?

[mikuni14]

The Sign - Ep 12

If you are a fan of The Sign and enjoyed the last episode, please do not read any further. Believe it or not, I don't want my negative opinion to affect your good mood 🤗

Okay, so I hated the finale 😆 The series ended exactly as I feared it would. With what was also the worst thing about the Last Twilight finale and why I hated CharlieBabe's relationship: namely, when one person call the shots in the relationship, makes all the decisions on their own, including the most drastic ones, and lies to the other a person "for their own good", and the series shows this as something positive and romantic. I hate these tropes, i.e. forced separations, fake deaths, making decisions for two without talking about it, and noble sacrifice without informing the other person about it. I hate showing it in a romantic light as the ultimate proof of love because it IS NOT proof of love. This only proves that 1) you don't trust the other person, 2) you don't believe that he or she is a rightful member of your relationship 3) you don't believe that you can talk to this person, that this person will help you, advise you, support you 4) you subconsciously question their intellectual and emotional abilities 5) you think that this person needs to be babied and you are the only adult in this relationship 6) this person does not deserve to make a decision in their OWN CASE, their OWN LIFE. Tharn decided to "save" Phaya and grandma by leaving with Chalathorn, he made the decision thinking what was best for them, but never considering IF THEY WANTED IT. The sight of grandma fainting, and later clutching her heart and losing strength as Phaya cries in the hospital scene, the sight of Phaya's utter despair as he is unable to function normally, go to work, live, who spends every waking moment looking for Tharn - yes, THIS is it the "life" that Tharn had so nobly sacrificed for. THARN NEVER EVEN THOUGHT TO ASK PHAYA AND GRANDMA IF THAT'S WHAT THEY WANTED. HE MADE THE DECISION FOR THEM, LIED TO THEM UNTIL THE LAST MOMENT AND LEFT THEM ALONE TO DEAL WITH THE CONSEQUENCES.

What I ABSOLUTELY HATE is that Tharn has NEVER even wavered in his decision, even though Phaya MANY TIMES, including on their last night, tells him, begs him not to leave him and to trust him, that Phaya will always be by his side. And I also ABSOLUTELY HATE the fact that when Tharn returns, Phaya tries to explain to him how hard it was for him, what a traumatic experience it was for him, and Tharn doesn't even let him finish. How can I support such an unequal relationship? How could I trust Tharn if I were Phaya? Our Dating Sim showed how such separations affect people's mental health. However, Lee Wan realizes this and when Shin Ki Tae breaks down, he lets him talk about his fear and then comforts him. And he doesn't shut him up.

I admit I lost it when Tharn said to Phaya and Doc "Please stop killing each other" lmao what? Are you equating your boyfriend who had to fight for his life and the guy who tries to kill him in every incarnation, including when he is still a child? What about this sick symmetry? 😆 Of course, nothing compares to the fact that Tharn stayed with Chalathorn for a whole year because he felt sorry for him, while his grandmother (the heart-clutching one, you know which one) may have had a heart attack, and both she and Phaya are in agony and losing their health ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I loved Tharn, he was my favorite character in The Sign. And in the end he became the worst.

What was really funny was that in the end, NOTHING depended on Tharn and Phaya, it was Chalathorn - a murderer, manipulator and kidnapper - who made them happy 😄 And finally, they even thanked him and Phaya promised him to take care of Tharn, as if the doctor were the father of the lovely girl, who was being given away for marriage. Just kill me now 👌 Their love turned out to be completely pointless, because everything was decided by CHALATHORN, and everything related to their relationship took place offscreen and was actually a result of coincidence. Chalathorn even gave life to Tharn, gave him his soul. Thus proving that Phaya was useless to Tharn. Amazing 👌 Their love is based on fear, death, and separations and making the same mistakes, instead of taking action together, trust, faithfulness to each other, and mutual support. In their relationship, only Phaya makes an effort, I stopped feeling Tharn's love a long time ago. Tharn has always just surrendered to what is BAD happening around him (because Tharn/Wansa always surrenders to Chalathorn, not relies on Phaya/Garuda). The worst thing is that Tharn from the beginning of the series WAS NOT LIKE THAT 😤

THE POINT OF THIS SERIES WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THAT THIS TIME PHAYA AND TAHRN WOULD OVERCOME KARMA TOGETHER. They were to break this cycle with precise instructions from the abbot. Not only did they not overcome it, but they repeated it exactly to the letter. This raises the question: what was the point of all this, if Phaya and Tharn repeated the cycle of love, despair and death and got out of it thanks to someone else's decision? Is this a series then… about Chalathorn? 😂 HOW CAN I SUPPORT THIS RELATIONSHIP AND BELIEVE IN THIS LOVE WHEN ULTIMATELY NOTHING DEPENDED ON THEM AND THEY DID NOTHING TO SAVE THEMSELVES AND SAVE THIS LOVE. Oh, by "they" I meant Tharn.

What else was weird:

how is it that Doc is suddenly so sacrificial and willing to let Tharn go when he was willing to destroy his own soul just to kill Phaya and take Tharn like 5 min ago???

where are the Chart scenes? Khem and Thongthai?

random scene with Phaya's sister and Dao who is in France? Anyone interested in this?? So there was time for THIS, but not for Chalathorn and Tharn?

The finale otherwise had no emotional impact in the most important scenes:

Tharn joined the police to solve the mystery of his father's death, Akk had his entire agenda in this matter. However, after the killer is arrested (with Chalatorn's help lol) it doesn't feel like it has any major impact on either of them

Chart almost died. He didn't even deserve a single scene with Akk, who would thank him or just talk to him (I don't care about it, just to close this thread)

Khem almost died. We only see him once more after that. He's fine 🤷‍♀️

there are no scenes of Tharn reuniting with Yai, grandmother, or even the abbot

the sex scene is boring, repetitive, with weird music at the beginning that doesn't match the mood, the sight of them kneeling on the bed with pixelated butts, their dicks touching, with their pants around their knees is nothing but ridiculous. The whole scene is overshadowed by the fact that Tharn is lying to Phaya, that he's giving him something nice before he leaves (pity fuck) and taking fond memories with him (selfish fuck), and basically we all know it's a goodbye fuck. That is, everyone knows except Phaya, who, like Babe and Mhok, is oblivious at this point and happy to have it all taken away from him by someone he loves.

Actually, the last time this show was nice was when they still called each other bolster and jellyfish 😄 Also, if I'm not mistaken, all but one of the flashbacks in this episode were from episodes 1-5, plus the sex scene from ep. 7. Because back then the series was still good and it was about PhayaTharn. How could such a perfect series fuck up so much?

What was good about the finale? Just like in Last Twilght: the hets. Thank you Yai for being there and maintaining your integrity from start to finish 💖

To sum up:

I love The Sign ep 1-5 and the pink scene

I don't like The Sign ep 8-11

I hate the finale (I won't even write about how two weeks ago the finale with an unhappy ending was shown for free for peasants, and for money you could watch the finale with a good ending lol).

Everything that was wrong with The Sign is summed up in these words:

LMAAAAAOOOOOOO 😂😂😂

[lenaperseveranceoxton]

Cheers, love! It's time to save the world.

About Me

I'm Kushion55!

This is a self-indulgent secondary blog for all things Lena “Tracer” Oxton. I’ll post or reblog anything from character analyses and memes to fan art and fan fiction, and I’ll sometimes rant about lore inconsistencies or fan interpretations, so long as it ties into Tracer. Emily is the one exception to this rule, but they ARE frequently bought together. Do not separate. During the height of Overwatch’s popularity in 2016, I felt an inexplicable connection to Tracer that I have never experienced with any other fictional character. I guess some people might call it kinning? It all started when the “Alive” cinematic showed up in my YouTube recommendations. Several obsessive replays later, I would go on to watch many videos about the game itself, and I could not get Overwatch out of my head during my eighth-grade classes. Ugh, how time flies. Anyway, I think Tracer made past me realize I wasn’t allosexual or cisgender. Whoopsies! The open beta for Overwatch eventually rolled around on May 5th, and my brain chemistry has never recovered since.

Tags

My posts could be better sorted, but there is a method to the madness. They will always be tagged with "#overwatch", its mentioned offshoots (e.g. "#questwatch", "mirrorwatch"), and other related topics (e.g. "#lego" if I talk about the LEGO Tracer minifigure, "#fortnite" if I talk about wanting Tracer in Fortnite).

Then, I'll tag Tracer skins when applicable, followed by "#tracer" and "#lena oxton" (such as "#overwatch 2 #tracer #lena oxton" if the post contains their Overwatch 2 design).

I'll tag other relevant heroes with their in-game names and most used canon names afterward. If their in-game name includes their real name, I'll only tag them once. Soldier: 76 is tagged with both "#soldier: 76" and "#jack morrison" (as opposed to "#john francis morrison"), and Kiriko is tagged with "#kiriko kamori" (as opposed to "#kiriko yamagami").

Any relevant ships will be tagged after every hero relevant to the post is listed. "#lemon tea", which will always be tagged after Lena and Emily, is the one exception to this rule because they are very important.

Lastly, I'll sometimes tag posts into a category. The two most frequent tags of this type are "#meme" and "#art". I've never bothered to tag most of my posts similarly because I can never decide how to categorize them. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Headcanons

I headcanon Lena as a sex-repulsed asexual lesbian. Emily is the only person they've ever had romantic feelings for, and they are soulmates. (I do not ship Lena with anyone else, and I am Widowtracer's #1 hater.)

I also headcanon that Lena falls somewhere under the non-binary umbrella and primarily uses they/them pronouns. I used to feel "wrong" for having such a headcanon, so my older posts might not reflect that.

[seldomscilence16]

Whumptober day 13:

"It comes and goes like the strength in your bones." 

Cold compress | infection | "I Don't Feel So Good."

Fandom: Avengers

Prompts used: All

So while I ignore most of the MCU after certain events we shant name, I saw this quote and was like, yeah I can't not. So it has nothing to do with the later movies, its its own timelined thing (obv) and based more off fanfictions I like to read (fix its) than anything. So, please take things in stride. It's sort and basically a sick fic.    ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

….

When the world looks at Tony Stark, they see a spoiled rich boy. 

And it's what Tony wants them to see of course. The Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist. Even Iron Man, the Super Hero he created, has so much speculation because he pilots the armor. Like Tony Stark could never truly be a hero… but he'd been there all his life. No matter how many things he creates to better the world and the people who live in it, he will always be… 

But it's fine. Those who took the time to see past everything, who peeled his layers and stayed long enough to witness what he'd never outright say, they knew who Tony was. And while they were few and far between, Tony knew he was lucky to have any at all. 

So being in a complex, surrounded by stubborn idiots who were not quite in that category yet- or ever with how things were going, but Iron Man could have teammates without having true friends, so long as the world got saved in the end- was quite the task for Tony to handle. And today, that meant a bunch of stubborn idiot heroes who refused to admit they were in fact sick. 

Strange and Loki had assured them- and really it was just Tony, everyone else had been focusing fully on staying upright- that they would find the cure to whatever magical mischief their most recent adversary had cast on them. The two had not been spared so to speak, but they hadn't received the brunt of the attack and were ridiculously stubborn- that's gonna be Tonys word of the day, get over it. So with a fiery look of competition passed between them, Loki and Strange went their separate ways to see who could cure them all first, leaving the rest of them to fend for themselves. 

As anyone could guess, in the ever growing list of assumptions about Stark, there was the assumption he was a needy whiny clingy sick person. Where anyone got that he couldn't tell you, he was tactile and often refused any form of contact from people he didn't fully trust. But as it was, the world saw what they wanted, which included the added fact that surely a spoiled rich boy would know next to nothing on how to care for others when they're sick. 

Which. Rude. 

Tony might not have received the care a child should have, but Jarvis and Ana had tried their best where his parents didn't. And despite popular opinions, Tony did in fact care about people. So with a delirious team, Tony ignored the ache in his chest- when did he ever not?- and readied himself for his hardest task yet. 

He turns, finding them all still staring at where the two magicians had been with squinted eyes, and sighs. 

"JARVIS, lockdown as secretly as possible please. I need these guys contained until this is over." He's glad for his earpiece, talking practically under his breath, to keep the gathered heroes from hearing his order. "And some scans would be great, need to know what i'm working with." 

"Of course, sir." 

"You know Cap, I'm just exhausted, can we do our briefing in the living room?" Tony bats his eyes as if the Soldier can actually comprehend it. 

"Uh," his voice is raspy and he coughs like a dying frog, "sure. Living room…" 

It gets everyone moving, however unsteady it is, Tony brushes from one to another for every sway that's a little too far, keeping everyone on their feet until they can crash onto the nearest soft surface. Or the floor as Bruce so elegantly flops. Shaking his head, he makes his way around, almost too easily removing shoes and draping blankets. He's beginning to think this may be easier than he thought-

Bruce sneezes, tints green and grows several sizes, breaking the table behind him, before sniffing and returning to a slightly paler version of himself. 

"Bless you." Steve mutters, arm thrown over his eyes as his open mouth breathing wheezes in and out of his chest. 

Natasha grumbles, burrowed into Hawkeyes side, face ashen and eyes squeezed closed, she shivers and shifts closer to the archer. Clint, to his credit, does not push her away, despite the sweat clinging to him and red tint to his cheeks. 

Thor is completely out, mouth open wide as he snores around a congested nose. He- like his brother and Strange- was better off, but for a guy who'd never had an Earth sickness- if any, Tony wouldn't know- itd be best to watch him too. If Bruce was breaking things, Thor would too no doubt.

"JARVIS, lower the lighting level a bit, and play something quiet on TV, I'm gonna make some soup." He supposed he should just be glad it wasn't every Avenger, but it was going to be a long day.

He rubs at his chest, joints protesting his movements, and clears his throat to avoid coughing. 

He could do this…

"Steve, I swear to all things, if you do not stop I will have Hulk sit on you."

He shifts the bowl of cool water so he can use a finger to push Cap back down on the couch turned bed. The super soldier goes down with little actual resistance, despite the fact he looks like he very much wants to resist. He's had to force most of them to sit still at least once, Natasha was fine so long as she was against someone warm, Clint wouldn't move if Natasha was resting on him, but had tried to fly when she'd curled into Steve. Bruce's brain still had a million tabs open, but he was also a little worried about the Hulk. The Hulk for his part, was miserable too and just wanted to watch TV one way or another so Tony was less worried about him than Bruce despite the broken table he'd had to clean up. And Thor had also tried to fly, but smacked himself in the face with Mjolnir and promptly fallen into a side table to take another nap… hopefully.

Once he's sure Steve is down for awhile longer, he goes back to his task of pressing cold compresses to heated heads. His hands shake more than usual, but like everything else, he ignores it as he dodges a smack from the red head before pressing the cloth to her neck and tucking the blankets in tighter to appease her. 

Task accomplished, he turns to check on the soup when a whimper- high and sudden- hits his ears. He turns- a little too fast, his head spins with the motion- to find Hawkeye sitting up, one hand on his stomach, the other over his mouth, and wide eyes looking up at Tony.

"I don't feel so good." He utters it a second before he's leaning over the edge of the couch bed and puking whatever the archer had eaten today. 

Tony sidesteps the mess to get to the heaving blond, placing a hand on his back and finding the compress to wipe at his face gently.

"It's okay, breathe. You're okay." Cleaning the cloth in the bowl he helps Clint lay back down, Natasha curling into his side again, and sighs in relief as he relaxes. 

He coughs into his elbow until he can't breathe and he worries about either adding to the mess or falling into it. The comm in his ear beeps steadily, sudden enough to get a breath in, and get the spots to stop dancing in his vision. 

"Thanks Jar." 

"I have re-" "I've found-"

"I really don't care who does it, just fix them." Tony waves at the miserably slumbering heroes as he makes his way towards the elevator. He had far too many things to catch up on to stay around for the aftermath of everything. He rubs at his chest as he leans heavily against the wall, waiting for the doors to open. 

"Tony, are you alright?" Strange's voice sounds far away.

"Fine, there's soup if you guys are hungry." His voice croaks a bit, but he knows if he clears it he'll cough. 

"I believe we should use the spell on you as well." Loki's drawl spins around his ears. 

"S'not the spell. I'll be fine. Just comes and goes," he waves his hand like he can wave the problem away, "like the strength in your bones. Iron bends under heat and stuff… whatever dad said." Hes mumbling by the end, not really caring what comes from his mouth or who hears. "Jar… where's the 'vator?" 

"Running slow sir, my apologies." 

"Tony-" 

"Sir you're-!"

"TONY!"

"....infection in his lungs…"

"...the arc reactor…"

"...pneumonia…"

"...need to flush out the cavity…"

"...irritated and swollen, the arc is…"

"...spell…"

Tony's chest feels heavy, his arms tingle, his head aches and eye twitches, there's a dull pain throbbing throughout his body…

So everythings normal.

But then… why doesn't he remember going to bed, and not his bed in the lab but like a bed bed. 

Shit! The team! 

He sits up quick enough to throw his head for a loop, and to startle the bodies surrounding him. He stares with wide eyes at a room full of heroes, several of which are in web hammocks strung from the ceiling. Dozens of eyes stare back, and he wonders if he missed something he shouldn't have. 

"Are we dead?" 

The collective sigh tells him they aren't, but that there's a lecture in his future.

[littleturtlefish]

Sigh 😔 at this point, I might as well just post my art classwork since I haven't been doing any art in my free time...

Not art-related at all but I've been (kinda) reading Komi-San Can't Communicate and I wanna post my thoughts on it since I like it (I do have some personal complaints though) but I have absolutely no way to put these thoughts out aside from here ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Somewhat related but have you seen how weird some Komi-San fans are??????? Knowing the genre and all, I shouldn't be surprised, but still...i wouldnt want to share my thoughts with some fans either way

Forewarning, literally the only manga I was ever fully invested in was Mob Psycho 100 and I haven't even touched the Komi-San anime. It's also been a while since I reread the entire manga so my memory may suck, my apologies. There will be many paragraphs, my double apologies.

[SPOILERS FOR EVERYTHING UP TO CHAPTER 412]

Overall, I think the manga is really cute. I don't read manga that much but I'd still say that it very much fits the slice-of-life genre well. Maybe too well 🙂 but I'll talk about that later. It's a great manga to read for fluff and just to have a good time.

Side-note: I'll be talking about the one-shot for a bit and when I say "current" Komi, I really just mean Komi throughout her 2nd/3rd year.

First things first, I absolutely fell in love with the concept and the one-shot (...first chapter?). The idea of a character with crippling social anxiety slowly coming out of their shell with the help and support of others? Fantastic :D And jeez, the art style change is REALLY obvious once you look at the one-shot. Honestly, I really wish the entire manga kept it u_u the dead-inside eyes Komi had actually showed why everyone was so scared of her. Her cute-ified/chibi look isn't as intimidating and only shows that people were scared just because she kept staring at them (which is fair lol, but her original look makes more sense). Tadano, though... I would prefer his current look compared to his old one LOL. Style aside, I'm gonna talk about this specific little thing that truly made me binge this manga: the diner and hospital talk. Technically two scenes but they share one thing and that is that Tadana and Komi sit facing AWAY from each other. I don't think I ever really struggled with social anxiety but when I was younger, I had a very hard time talking to people while making eye contact. I know chronlogically that the hospital talk is before the diner one but as a reader (since diner scene is shown first), seeing that issue be addressed without it ever being directly brought up was just...really sweet. I understood it right away. Hell, even when it was noticed and brought up in the hospital talk, Tadano was such a caring person to suggest the idea of facing away from one another i straight up wouldve cried if someone did that for me irl moreonmylovefortadanolater— One-shot Komi is also pretty interesting because she actually IS able to talk, she just varies between saying very little to saying a lot. I'm no psychiatrist but personally, I felt that could've been more relatable BUT that's not a complaint because the manga isn't obligated to accurately portray every single thing about the disorder (especially since it's clear that this manga is focusing on being lighthearted so of course it won't necessarily go into the very heavy stuff). I find current Komi's trait of using a notebook to speak much more interesting but I was shocked on the relateability of one-shot Komi, haha.

Okay, now for the actual manga. I'll admit, I don't really have much to say in the beginning portion purely because I don't really remember much 🙃 The chalkboard scene was really cute but I'll just be saying that for any scene with Komi and Tadano alone, tbh. Komi and her reactions in social situations are mood as always. Tadano was a KIND, CARING, and LOVING lil guy and all he got was death threats smh. Yamai.

She's part of a bigger issue.

In general, I love seeing Komi and Tadano together. Together relationship-wise and also just simply interacting with each other. Their relationship is SO adorable and I always reread their pining moments :ↄ I understand the dislike for the trope of an extraordinary woman falling in love with Some Guy™ but I like it here because while Tadano truly is Some Guy™, he's a genuinely nice person and not even just basic-human-decency nice; he goes out of his way for people. He also sees Komi as a friend before all else, too. Like, yes, he finds her attractive and, yes, she is literally his girlfriend now, but they still share a lot of platonic moments together and just act like a couple of besties ✨

Manbagi is also a main character I can't help but adore. I found it fascinating that the love triangle, while still a competition, was lighthearted and friendly. I've personally never seen one portrayed like that so I'm really impressed! The love triangle showcased Komi and Manbagi's friendship so much that, despite not being a fan of OT3s, I genuinely just wanted both of them to date Tadano lmao and I truly believed that it would've worked out!!! I still do; all three of those characters have chemistry with each other! Anyway, love triangle arc aside, I'm happy that she's at least getting her happy ending with that one dude :)

Speaking of that dude, the side characters are cool. My favorites are Hiki and Komitani. I like the name puns and some side stories are pretty sweet (like with Hiki's). I forgor their names but surprisingly, I liked those two bitchy girls who "bullied" Komi (quotes because it wasn't that serious). How they acted towards Komi and the reasons why they acted that way (AKA their assumptions about Komi doing it for attention or whatnot) was a nice change from the standard character reaction towards Komi. Yeah, they were still dicks and I especially didn't like how everyone quickly forgave that one tsun (?) girl, but they were a refreshing deviation from status quo. Those good examples aside, there...are a lot of side stories to the point I get tired of them :U I mean, I assume that's just a genre thing because I have read other slice-of-life manga before but would drop them because the side stories were too much >.> Clearly, I didn't really drop this manga since I'm talking about it but 400+ chapters feels like a lot to me (especially when a good portion of those chapters are side stories) and it's still ongoing, which I typically wouldn't even touch since I like endings to a story :u It feels like trudging through mud sometimes but I gotta get through it or I won't see my favs Komi and Tadano ✊😔 The side stories really would've been a dealbreaker if not for those two.

Ah, and finally: sexual fanservice. God, I hate it so much. Both, in the manga and in general. I hate how it's prevalent in so much media, I hate how it is used as a tool to attract audiences, and I hate how it works in attracting those audiences. Yes, the manga has many, many instances of sexual fanservice but I've just accepted that I can never escape it. Yamai and her sexual harassment. Close-up shots of teenage chests. Hiki being a literal middle schooler at one point. Almost every character's sexualization of Komi, no matter their age. All make me disappointed, but not surprised. You gotta make money somehow ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I am surprised that Tadano and Komi's relationship isn't sexualized all that much. Maybe I missed some things but the only sexual things I can recall are the "Tadano unlocked a new fetish" moments (which happens only twice? Thrice?) and other characters asking/teasing on how far they've gone. I like that. It makes their relationship very wholesome and also reinforces the fact that Tadano sees Komi as an actual person.

Kinda related to fanservice but I very much dislike the current art style. Y'know that meme of anime girls being compared to pugs? That's exactly what happened to Komi's face. Why is it so scrunched up??? To be fair, this applies to every character so I guess there's consistency... Her sharp edges in her hair are kinda jarring, though, because she has these really detailed eyes but her face is small and her hair, although detailed, is a geometric shape and all of these factors do not look good together. I'm fine with Tadano's design because it gives him personality, which...may or may not be a good thing, character-wise? Like, yeah, he's supposed to be some normal guy and all, which his original design perfectly portrays that bUT ITS SO BORINGGG. I like his sharp edges! It's better on him since he isn't as detailed as Komi. Anyway, I say this is related to fanservice because, while yes, this art style is much easier to draw with than with the old style, Komi's prominent eyes and tiny face surely must've been influenced by some other factor other than time management :U but that's just my theory. Final note: this art style kinda ruined the Tadano confession scene for me a bit because the close-up of Komi's face was...not good, imo.

One last thing: YAY THEY KISSED!!!!!11!°!! When I stopped reading, I stopped at the end of the Kawai arc since I do not like being left on cliffhangers and there were only some chapters left at the time. I heard about the kiss scene at Chapter 411 and so, I only read the chapters that led up to that scene instead of picking up where I last was 🙃 I have some thoughts. Why is Kawai trying to insert herself into Komi and Tadano's relationship. Why is Kawai's family weird. Why...is Kawai even here lmao. Komi and Tadano are adorable, though <3

My final thoughts are that it very much is a slice-of-life manga. Nothing revolutionary, I think, but that's fine! Watching the relationship grow between Tadano and Komi was the main thing for me and now that they're officially together, I'll admit, I'm not all that interested in the story anymore ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I know the main goal of the story is for Komi to overcome her social anxiety and make 100 friends and I do like the development of that goal, but...eh... I remember seeing a comment in the subreddit mention that they wish the goal was changed so that the quality of friendships mattered over quantity and I agree. The manga does emphasize that Komi has made meaningful connections with some of the friends she made (Tadano, Manbagi, Kawai...I assume? Didn't read LMAO) but that's the thing: it's only some friends. Her other friends are side characters that have their own side stories which may or may not be boring. They're not as fleshed out as Tadano or Manbagi nor do they share the same impact. Sure, a mean character may push Komi to stand up for herself once or twice but there's no revolutionary moment within Komi compared to her moments with Tadano or Manbagi. To be fair, those small moments with side characters do build up for Komi but my point still stands that Komi has friends that are much closer than the rest. Because of that, I just feel like Komi already reached her goal 🤷‍♀️ She has Tadano, her #1 support system and friend, along with other friends that played a role in her development. She doesn't really need more friends, since the friends she has now are already caring and considerate. She was able to form deep relationships despite her communication disorder; I feel like that's a great ending. And I know, ending a story when the main couple gets together is cliche and there'd be no kiss scene if that did happen but I'm just saying!!

oh and komi's parents' lil side story was adorable

[tehuti88-art]

3/3/23: r/SketchDaily theme, "Cities In Western Germany." I had to not think about this too much. Straight lines drive me crazy.

...

This week's character from my anthro WWII storyline is Lance Corporal Mahogany Rat. He's better with numbers and lists than with people, but he means well. There'll be more about him later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.

Regarding his design, I wasn't entirely committed to his appearance yet so gave him longer fur to set him a bit apart.

TUMBLR EDIT: I haven't a lot of background info on LC Mahogany yet, as he's not a major character. I know more about his current personality than anything.

I'll say upfront that Mahogany is on the autism spectrum, though of course he has no official diagnosis considering the time period of the story (1930s/40s); his behavior and abilities are just considered "quirks" of his personality by everyone around him. (He shares some traits with SS commandant Konstantin Klaus, one reason Klaus's unusual ability to recall long lists of numbers and data resonates with him, though unlike him, I don't believe Klaus is on the spectrum, he's just asocial and has this one weird talent. I could always be wrong, though. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) He's not good with people as he just doesn't "get" them, thus he often does or says things others find hurtful or offensive, without realizing it; when called out on it afterwards, he feels remorse, as he really doesn't mean to be rude, just that he's painfully honest and can't understand why others wouldn't be. This rules out him being prime soldier material, but it does make him good behind the scenes, dealing with the massive amounts of data and information the other Rats, such as Silver, bring back to Headquarters. The Rats are constantly dealing with both large numbers of refugees, and secret information on the Nazis' medical projects; somebody has to keep this stuff sorted out. Much of this falls on Mahogany--and while he may suck at dealing with people, he's excellent at dealing with information.

Mahogany is one of the characters in the opening chapters of the attempted reboot in the early 2000s, when he was a relatively new character (he didn't exist in the original version). I'll here include his introductory chapter. The woman he's dealing with later came to be named Helena Urbach, and she becomes a recurring character of mild importance herself; though as you can see, originally she had a different name and mildly different circumstances. I believe in the current version she's seeking her husband, not a little girl, though it's still a developing storyline. (I may end up having her looking for both.)

Here is that entire chapter; incidentally, it was the final chapter finished before I stopped writing. More info to follow.

14: MAHOGANY

THE RAT DRESSED in dark blue held a megaphone to his mouth with one hand, gesturing with the other hand in the air. He pointed to his side in a sweeping motion and his voice carried across the giant room.

"Everyone entering please form a line to your left." He repeated the sentence in German, then in Polish, Romany, French, Russian. Following this, the majority of people milling about drifted to the left of the room, though their looks were just as confused as before. Even with the megaphone he could barely be heard above the noise. Down in the corner, a small tumult started, and he lowered the megaphone, craning his neck to see.

Another Rat, his cape a reddish-brown, stood at a long table bent over a stack of papers. He rolled his eyes at the noise and let out an irritated sigh. "Now what?"

"I'll go see," the Rat in blue said, jumping down. The second Rat lifted his head and waved his hand.

"Whenever you or anyone else gets the chance to get out of here, go find whoever's in charge of typing out those forms! I should have had them hours ago. If we had them now we wouldn't even have to be going through all of this!"

The Rat in blue just waved back at him and pushed his way toward the commotion. He started talking in German, only to realize that wasn't the language being spoken; as soon as he recognized it he grimaced and glanced back at the second Rat.

"Romany. I only know a few words. If you want a negotiator, you want Copper."

Another grimace. The second Rat had to yell to make himself heard. "Just make whatever you can out of it and get the line moving!"

The Rat in blue shrugged. He turned back to the woman who talked loudly, almost shrieking. He used hand gestures more than once. From what little Mahogany knew of Romany, he could tell...Sapphire knew just about as little as he did.

"Problem?" Sapphire said in German, then grimaced and snapped his fingers a few times. "Trouble?" he said in Romany. A few more snaps. "Line to left, give name. All in order. In line."

The woman, noticing he was talking to her now, grabbed onto his cape and started yammering in his face. She was short and stout, with dark hair and a round face, but Mahogany could tell her grip on the taller Sapphire was a powerful one from the panicked look the Rat got. He grasped her hands and tried pulling them free, attempting to cut her off a few times. Only a few of the words she cried out made it through to either of them, but they eventually got the message.

"Ah, boy." Sapphire made a face. "You might want to hurry up on those papers! She's looking for her daughter. I'm not sure if there's another by her name. I'm not even sure I got what her name is!"

"Just TALK TO HER while I try to get this all sorted!!"

Sapphire rolled his eyes and sighed. He managed to get himself free of the woman's grasp and started snapping his fingers, a habit of his that Mahogany had noticed whenever he was trying to think of something. He managed a few more snippets in Romany, lapsing into German every so often in the hopes the woman would understand. Mahogany growled to himself and picked up the megaphone the other Rat had vacated, blaring over the crowd.

"SOMEONE FIND ME COPPER AND GET HIM IN HERE NOW!"

The megaphone whined with feedback and everyone cringed. A few Rats who had been directing traffic near the back of the room shook their heads, wincing, but vanished outside. Mahogany dropped the megaphone back onto the table and continued pushing through the stack of papers.

There should have been a lot more of them, and some of them should have been seriously updated. Some of the records were older ones they'd managed to find before the successful raid on the concentration camp. Names, ages, relatives, who knew what was correct and what was erroneous. The Nazis had always been very good at record keeping; that was the one thing Mahogany had to admire about them. They were anal to a fault, and at the moment he did not have the benefit of their analness.

"Those papers should have been here HOURS ago," he muttered to anyone who might be close enough to hear him. A couple of Rats who had appeared near the table to try to help sort out the mess cast him furtive looks but said nothing. "How am I supposed to even get this sorted out if I don't have the right records? I thought Silver was in charge of that?"

"I heard he handed it on to Copper, Sir," a private said.

"Then where is Copper?"

"I...um...heard he handed the job on to Corporal Gold," another Rat said meekly.

Mahogany grated his teeth. "Then where is Gold? And don't even tell me HE handed the job on to someone else!"

"The last I knew he was away from the main office, Sir...I don't know where he went."

Mahogany's teeth felt ready to break off. "Maybe we should just recruit the NAZIS to take care of our records for us!" he snapped, slapping the papers back into a dissheveled pile as if he were beating a sullen mule. "Maybe THEN we'd get something done!"

The two Rats gave him odd looks but again said nothing.

A dot of blue appeared in the sea of drab colors, and Sapphire waved his hand and pointed. Mahogany spotted Copper trailing after him, nudging his way through the crowd; he stood up and waved the other Rat over and practically had to yell at him to make himself heard.

"A woman over there, speaking only Romany. Sapphire seems to think she's looking for a relative. Where are those papers I was promised? How do I end up with the refugees but not the papers?"

"Gold was taking care of them. The last I heard, he was having trouble with the typewriter."

Mahogany bared his teeth this time. "Just call in someone who reads German well and screw the damn typewriter! He can transcribe the stupid things LATER! And for the love of God, try to figure out what that woman is talking about, already!"

Copper shrugged and stepped away. Sapphire waved to catch Mahogany's attention.

"I can read German!"

"Well GOOD FOR YOU," Mahogany barked in response. "You make your country proud. Track down Gold and get those papers and make yourself useful for a change!"

Sapphire looked offended. "Hey, I was useful..." But Mahogany didn't catch the rest of what he said, as he turned away muttering to himself, vanishing back into the crowd. The other Rat let out a sigh and slumped back in his uncomfortable metal chair, pulling loose a few papers and trying once more to make sense out of them.

When the refugee area had been set up, nobody had been incredibly willing to take over the duties of admitting the freed prisoners of the camps. Now, it was obvious why. Overseeing the admission of refugees was probably the most stressful and frustrating job in the entire battalion, and most days Mahogany couldn't even remember why he'd taken it. He guessed it was simply because if he hadn't, no one else would have. By now he practically dreamed in terms of long lists of names and numbers. Whenever he closed his eyes that seemed to be all he could see anymore. There weren't any faces attached; he didn't bother looking at them, for the most part. There were just too many to keep track of; names and numbers were more efficient than dealing with the actual people. He preferred to leave that to the others; they could deal with the refugees as much as they wanted once he was done gathering their information. Most of them stayed only a few weeks, at the most, before being moved out to make way for new ones. The Rats had just about perfected a way of getting them out of the country unnoticed, not that that was any of Mahogany's business. Names, numbers, birthdates, this was all he dealt in. And even that was hard enough.

He could hear Copper talking with the Gypsy woman, calming her down, and the other Rats worked to get the lines moving smoothly again...at least, as smoothly as they could. After a few more moments Sapphire reappeared with some papers--again, not nearly as many as Mahogany knew were warranted, but at least it was a start. He could always send him back for the rest of the records when they ran out.

Sapphire started calling names, and one by one people started coming forward. Mahogany wrote down their names when they were called, then spoke to them tersely when they approached.

"Number," he said; an arm was held out toward him and he looked at the number tattooed upon it, jotting it down and moving to the next line in the record. "Age."

"Forty-three."

"Move along." He waved to the right and Number 317409, Age 43, disappeared from his view. He wrote down the next name Sapphire called, even without really listening to it--he never listened to the names aside from writing them down. It was too easy to get caught up in names.

"Number." He glanced at the arm held out before him. "Age."

"Twenty-seven."

"Move along." Another jotted annotation in the records. This went on for a while without further incident. One by one the refugees pulled up their sleeves to show their arms and then moved along. He could have identified them by the numbers marked there, but not by their faces. It didn't matter much anyway, as they would be out of here soon enough; copies would be made of their records, and it would be up to whoever's hands they fell into to sort out where they should go afterwards. None of that was Mahogany's concern.

He jotted down a name. "Number."

A slender arm was presented to him and he wrote down the number. "Age."

"Twenty-three."

"Move along."

"Ex...excuse me..."

Mahogany blinked, his bland concentration broken. The numbers weren't supposed to speak aside from answering his questions. He lifted his head and saw a young dark-haired woman staring back at him, her eyes shadowed and her face gaunt. She was still holding out her tattooed arm, so yes, she was in fact the one who had spoken.

"What?" Mahogany asked with a twinge of irritation.

The woman hesitated a little bit. "I'm...I'm wondering if anyone else with my name has come through here...in particular a little girl..."

"Name?" He looked down at the record and read the name he'd written down automatically a moment before. Kurtzer. Then he snapped himself out of his daze and pushed the record aside, picking up the next. Sapphire looked down at him as if wondering whether to continue calling. "Hundreds of people pass through here every week, ma'am. I only take down their records. I can't keep track of everyone's name. Next."

"I...I see." The woman cast her gaze down and turned away, pulling her sleeve back over her tattoo. "Thank you anyway," she added, before following the line. Sapphire called out the next name, which Mahogany wrote down.

"Number. Age."

"Fifty-two."

"Move along. Number. Age."

"Forty-four."

"Move along. Number. Age..."

Eventually, as expected, Sapphire's stack of papers ran out, and he had to interrupt the proceedings to go get the rest. Mahogany took a moment to take the growing stack beside him and set it in a basket under the table so it wouldn't get knocked over. The rest of the refugees stood on the other side, milling about uneasily; Copper had made his way to the very back of the room and had apparently spoken with everyone who still had some lingering doubts as to whether it was better to be here or back in the camp. At least no one was screaming anymore. Mahogany rubbed at his head and wished for some aspirin. He felt tempted to glance up to see how many were left to be processed, but stopped himself from doing so lest he see their faces looking back at him. Instead, he found himself reaching into one of the other metal baskets that had previously been filled with personal records from the rest of the week. It was almost overflowing, and would need to be put in order and sent out soon with the latest batch of freed prisoners.

He picked up the stack of papers and set them on his lap, paging through them. They had been placed in alphabetical order, and he headed for the K's. Once he reached them he slowed down a bit to look more carefully over the names he'd written there himself. Katzenberg. Kirsch. Klein. Kozminski.

No Kurtzer.

Mahogany blinked. He sighed in irritation, shaking his head, and dropped the papers back into their basket, pushing it back under the table. It had been a stupid thought to follow anyway. Numbers were easier to deal with--cleaner, more efficient, and without faces and thoughts attached. He hated dealing with names. Another batch of papers was arriving from Headquarters, and he waved at the refugees again, directing them to get back in line until they were done.

He didn't lift his eyes from the paper aside to look at the multitude of tattooed numbers being flashed at him, and he didn't remember a single one of the rest of the names called out that night.

All righty. LOTS of that is hopelessly outdated, though this scene is still meant to take place. Current Mahogany is not nearly so much of an a-hole. He's flustered and frustrated and terse but not a jerk like this. (He also doesn't tend to order others around like this older version, he's a follower.) Gold still has trouble with the typewriter (partly because he's bad at typing, then later because the replacement "typewriter" he's given from a Nazi raid is in fact something called an Enigma machine). The character later named Helena Urbach, not Kurtzer (older than 23, BTW!), still stops to ask Mahogany if anyone else named Urbach has passed through, this time, an older man (her husband, though she doesn't say this). This line, which perfectly encapsulates Mahogany's thought process, still occurs: The numbers weren't supposed to speak. Mahogany still brusquely, though without malice, informs Helena he can't help her and she moves on; he does a quick search, finds no other Urbach. Tells himself to move on too.

Except the woman sticks in his head for some reason. At one point when he mentions how the people passing through HQ are just lists of numbers to him, Gold takes him to task for it: "You're thinking like THEY think!"--"they" meaning the Nazis. Mahogany, deeply wounded by this comment, denies it, but the longer he thinks about it, the more it grows on him that, well yeah, that IS how the Nazis think. And that bothers him so greatly that he goes digging through the records the Rats keep, then, finding nothing, he looks through the multitude of Nazi records which Silver has stolen and brought to HQ. At last, he comes across an Urbach who fits the details the unnamed woman provided: He died in the camps. Mahogany enlists Copper to help him locate the woman, still being held with the other refugees in Trench Rat custody, and excitedly tells her what he found. He fully expects her to be grateful to get the information; he doesn't understand why her face goes gray as soon as she learns the news. She murmurs a numb "Danke" before leaving. Mahogany's confusion only grows when Copper grasps his arm and hisses under his breath, "Are you some kind of ghoul??" Mahogany asks what he did wrong, he was just giving her the info she was looking for. Copper replies, "You just told her the Nazis murdered her husband. Like you were giving her a present!"

Of course, Mahogany is mortified--it hadn't even occurred to him WHY she would be asking after someone with the same name as hers, but it makes sense in retrospect, and he knows it should have made sense long before now. He confides in Gold about it; although his opposite in many ways, Gold seems willing to put up with him, and doesn't try to make him feel like an idiot. Gold just confirms what Copper implied and Mahogany is starting to figure out: "You're on a whole other wavelength, you know?" He waves off Mahogany's discouragement with the comment that that's not unique, all of them have their quirks, such as Doomsday, and Burgundy, and Turquoise; they've figured out how to deal with others (or not deal with them, as in Turquoise's case), surely he can too. Apologizing to the refugee lady might be a good start.

Mahogany does so the first chance he gets. He explains his reasoning, feels wounded all over again when the woman says his way of thinking of people like numbers is exactly the way the Nazis think. She seems to understand, however, when he tries to describe his difficulty dealing with faces, names, personalities--he means no harm, lists and numbers are simply what make the most sense to him, though he knows now how that can be offensive. Unlike the Nazis, he knows there are actual people behind the numbers, he's just not sure how to deal with them. She accepts his apology, adding, "If you want to better know a person behind a number, it's all right for you to ask." She tells him her name--Helena--so she's not just a number anymore. And makes sure he knows that, despite his sh*tty delivery, she really is grateful that he went to the trouble of finding out what had become of her husband. Mahogany is curious, and asks her: "Does it make it hurt less...? Now that you know?" Helena pauses a moment before replying, "Nein...it hurts the same. But it helps."

Mahogany doesn't really get it. But he decides to take her word for it.

Mahogany gets many chances to see the awful realities of the war firsthand, many times over, in his dealings with the people the Rats rescue. He has an advantage over the others, and it shows up over time--despite all the awful things he sees, it doesn't wear him down the way it wears down the others. He's able to keep a healthy sense of distance and offer his observations without an overly emotional aspect. He isn't emotionless--far from it--but things don't get to him the same way they do to others. This puts others off if they don't know him well, but the other Rats realize how useful it can be, the main reason he often accompanies Gold or others in their dealings with strangers or unpleasant situations so he can give his impartial impression of things. He still has no real clue how to best deal with people without inadvertently offending them, though he starts to learn how to hold his tongue when in doubt.

Mahogany has to gather and go over the records and files the Rats get hold of as a result of their final raid on Project Doomsday headquarters. The fallout of this raid is massive and unexpected; the Rats end up with not only the gruesome death of Dr. Kammler, the one in charge of the project, but with a valuable prisoner--SS Captain Otto Himmel--and two rescuees, Lance Corporal Teal Rat and Corporal Drake Rat, who've been in Nazi custody for years. Despite his position as project supervisor, Himmel quickly proves cooperative: He wants to see Kolten, a Doomsday test subject previously rescued by the Rats, and then he'll tell them everything they want to know. Mahogany got to meet Kolten before he was relocated to a safe location; the Nazis' "superweapon"--a person with excessive strength, stamina, ability to withstand pain, and an imposing size and violent temper to go along with it--turns out to have the mentality of a child. His violent fits are merely temper tantrums akin to those a toddler might throw--it's just that they're a lot scarier when it's a hulking adult with artificially enhanced strength throwing them. Black Rat figures this out first; Mahogany has to deal with him a few times, and sees a bit of himself in Kolten's detached view of the world. When he's not lost in his own thoughts, or in the middle of an angry fit, he's very observant, and displays savant-like skills. Mahogany is one of the voices to suggest that Kolten isn't a threat when handled properly, and he should be able to tolerate living with the host parents who agree to take him in. Kolten indeed does well at the Albrechts' farm, readily settling into a life of simple routine--like Mahogany, he's most comfortable when things are laid out for him and he knows what to expect. The Rats go a long while without hearing about him.

So of course when Himmel requests to see him, it catches Mahogany's attention. The others assume he's simply interested in how the project turned out, but Mahogany senses something else. He just doesn't know what. The Rats press Himmel a bit harder but he shuts down and refuses to answer any questions, so they ponder granting his request--as project supervisor, he could be full of priceless information regarding the experiment and its victims. Mahogany knows Kolten can likely handle the situation, but Himmel is a wild card. He and Turquoise Rat stop by the SS officer's cell to get a look at him. The Rat keeping watch says Himmel hasn't slept, hasn't eaten, has barely touched his water, hasn't moved from his seat. Mahogany peeks at him before Himmel sees they're there, notices the look on his face as he stares across his cell; as soon as the two Rats step into view, his head pops up, and his expression changes--spite and resentment. Mahogany asks if he wants to see Kolten, takes note of the flicker in Himmel's eyes; then asks why he wants to see him, and takes note of the hardness that covers it up again. Himmel simply echoes his request, adding, "Tell your supervising officers that until then, I have nothing more to say," and clams up once more.

Mahogany reports back that he believes there's no way Himmel will talk unless his request is granted--but it isn't mere interest in the project motivating him. He has some sort of emotional attachment, even though Mahogany can't tell what it is. Turquoise, who's skilled at picking up on others' feelings, confirms this, adding that whatever Himmel's connection is to Kolten, it's a very close one. (Turquoise actually had a run-in with Himmel earlier in the series and already knows there's more to him than it appears, including his connection to Kolten, but for reasons of his own he keeps specifics to himself.) They both agree: Himmel is likely to keep his word if they grant his request. The Rats accordingly take Himmel out to the farm where Kolten is staying, and the two meet face to face. I don't think Mahogany is there but he of course learns of it afterward; Kolten is Himmel's son, who was forced into the project against Himmel's wishes. Himmel never tried to have him rescued following his capture by the Rats, as he knew he was far safer in their custody--the Nazis, and the SS in particular, make a routine of murdering the mentally infirm, and Himmel's entire existence revolves around keeping Kolten safe. Just as theorized, once Himmel gets to see his son and know he's doing well, he keeps his promise, and starts telling the Rats everything he knows. And he knows a lot.

The rescue of Drake and Teal, meanwhile, is a very big deal. They've been held captive by the Nazis and also forced into the Doomsday Project despite not meeting its standards; Drake theorizes that Dr. Kammler was acting out of pure spite. He talks to them without any teeth--Kammler had them all pulled, sans anesthesia, just because. Drake is obviously badly traumatized by his years of mistreatment, but is better equipped to handle it than Teal, plus, as a Jew whom Kammler outright despised, he never went through the same level of gaslighting and emotional torture that Teal, who was designated a special status political prisoner, suffered. Drake has always been considered solely a victim of the Nazis. Teal is an utter mess. It wasn't just that, as a special detainee, he was granted certain rights AND subjected to torture at the same time, hopelessly confusing him--upon his rescue and Kammler's capture, he first embraced the captive doctor and cried, then after learning the project was ended, pulled out a shiv and stabbed him to death. It's also that, for a long while, he was believed by the Rats to be colluding with the Nazis, providing useful information such as the location of Headquarters. (Corporal Anna Julian was in fact the one who did this.) While Teal admits he did help get Silver Rat temporarily captured and tortured, he denies any other sort of collusion right up to the end--asking Burgundy, the chief surgeon, to apologize to Silver on his behalf, before grabbing a scalpel and jamming it in his own neck.

Gold (who's assumed command of the Trench Rats following Black Rat's death) and Mahogany head to the medical ward upon being called, finding Lance Corporal Lyndsey Skye tending to a rattled Drake (in the bed next to Teal's, he witnessed the whole thing), then a pale-faced, blood-spattered Burgundy, and medic LC Amaranth, standing by Teal. The other two Rats are caught off guard by the gruesome sight; Burgundy explains that when he tried to stop Teal first from stabbing himself, then from pulling the scalpel out, Teal made eye contact and shook his head, yanking the blade from his neck and quickly bleeding out despite Burgundy's and Skye's efforts. The look he gave was plain--he didn't want Burgundy to help him. Burgundy requests that they go through the Trench Rats' records and ascertain Teal's religion and next of kin, if he has any preferences regarding disposal of his body. Gold and Mahogany depart, mute, though as they walk away Mahogany murmurs, "Why did he do it?--do you think?" "Guilt," Gold says. "But he was a prisoner, he had no choice," Mahogany says, to which Gold replies, "Exactly."

Mahogany doesn't really get it, but he can tell Gold is bothered--indeed most of the Rats are feeling guilty over the fact that they effectively wrote Teal off as a traitor, and didn't try as hard as they should have to free him--so volunteers to search the records himself. Teal was one of the original Battalion, and many of their records were damaged or lost in the same Nazi attack that was blamed on him. If there's anything to find, though, Mahogany will find it. He buries himself in the records, comes up for air some hours later, vaguely discouraged. He did find Teal's records, but there was very little to find. Teal has no religion listed in his file. Even worse, he has no next of kin, no family listed. Even the Trench Rats, whom he'd fought for and refused to turn on all those years, didn't miss him when he was gone. Drake had his faith, somebody who loves him, and the support of his fellow soldiers to keep him going, but Teal had nothing. Mahogany finally thinks he understands why, so soon after gaining his freedom, he just gave up. In addition to his guilt over Silver's capture (the one thing for which he WAS responsible), he didn't have anything to live for.

Mahogany presents Teal's sparse records, asks what do they do now. After some thought, it's decided to bury Teal in Germany, as the Rats can't justify the difficulty of transporting his remains through enemy territory when he has nobody to take custody of them. Mahogany offers to help Gold find a location out of the way somewhere. They bundle up Teal's body, place him on a cart, and head into the woods. While they're scouting around for a decent location, they run across a rat dressed in a German uniform and gas mask; he startles them at first, before they remember who he is. His identity is unknown but he's assisted them several times in the past; they assume he's a partisan who wishes to keep his identity secret, perhaps to unnerve the Germans the same way the Trench Rats once did with their Prussian-style uniforms. He gestures at the cart they're pulling, seeming curious about what's upon it. Despite their unease, they pull back the sheet enough for him to see Teal's face. The stranger in the gas mask seems dismayed; though when Mahogany mentions why they're transporting him through the woods, he gestures for them to follow him. Puzzled, they do so...and end up pulling, pushing, lifting, and dragging the cart over and under hillocks and roots and boulders and pits until a splashing sound catches their attention. Ahead is a fall of water descending from a high crevice in the limestone and forming a shallow pool below. Gold and Mahogany admire the sight for a moment before Gold says, "What is this place...?" The stranger in the gas mask replies in a muffled voice, "He's [Teal's] the one who found it."

The two Trench Rats are startled--the stranger has never spoken a word before now. He takes off his gas mask and Mahogany excitedly grasps Gold's arm. Although Gold doesn't recognize the stranger, he does, from his previous search of their records. It's Sergeant Camo Rat, who was captured at the same time Drake was, yet had escaped Nazi custody not long after. He's informally connected with the resistance effort, who advised him that if he returned to the Trench Rats too soon he might attract another attack; he decided to work from a distance trying to keep the Nazis away. Now that he's learned his corporal has been rescued and Project Doomsday dismantled, there's no point maintaining his disguise. He's on hand later when the Rats interrogate Himmel, as shortly following their capture, Himmel had shot and killed Anna Julian in front of Camo and Drake and Camo wants to know why; Himmel reveals she was the traitor, not Teal: "That poor Sonderhäftling [special detainee] you were all so quick to blame? He had nothing to do with it. He was just your perfect scapegoat. All those years loyal--for nothing. You rewarded a traitor instead."

Gold, Mahogany, and Camo bury Teal near the waterfall. After the war's end, the Rats disperse, most heading back home to the US, though a handful remain in Germany to sort out their final affairs. Himmel is tried by a military tribunal, which finds him guilty of belonging to a criminal organization (the SS) but clears him of other charges, even his extrajudicial killing of Julian, as she'd been turned by the SS herself, led to the death of scores of Americans, and according to multiple witness accounts was going to be involved in more. (Himmel actually killed her to protect Kolten.) Stripped of his rank and honors and left without a home, he returns to the Albrechts' farm to see his son. Gold (a sergeant now) and Camo are left in charge of going through the property and vast number of records left behind by the Allgemeine-SS; Mahogany again volunteers. He visits Himmel's old office at project headquarters, is surprised that most of his worldly possessions consist of books--in multiple languages, some banned by the SS--and notebooks of drawings by Kolten. (When Himmel departs after his trial, all he requests are the notebooks, and a single book, Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. The significance of this isn't lost even on Mahogany.) He then tries to make sense of the SS records; they kept files on most German citizens and on many enemy parties, including the Trench Rats. The records were left in general disarray as the SS fled, but many escaped destruction, and Mahogany does his best to sort them out and put them back together.

He's joined in his efforts by a surprising party: Helena Urbach, who, following her rescue by the Rats, decided to join the Diamond Network and aid the resistance. Learning of the Trench Rats' attempt to sort through the SS records and try to aid remaining survivors, she arrives at the newly repurposed project headquarters and offers her services. Mahogany is glad to learn she's made it, and grateful for her help; the two of them get to know each other better as they sort the records out and locate survivors. She meets Camo Rat as well; the two of them bond over their shared experiences (both lost their spouses and were victimized by the Nazis) and start a tentative relationship.

A few of the Rats who have no strong ties left in the US, and/or who formed close ties in Germany, decide to stay permanently as the country is divided up by the Allies. Drake heads to France with Papillon, a partisan who'd frequently aided the Trench Rats, to recover from his experience; Gold settles down with Mirela, a Romani partisan whose father he and Mahogany had located in a camp. (See Mirela's entry.) Camo stays with Helena, and Burgundy and Skye pair up as well, continuing to provide medical care for those who need it. Himmel moves into an abandoned mansion near the Albrechts and keeps in touch with partisan leader Didrika, former Wehrmacht sniper Ratdog, former Project Doomsday subject Jakob Wolfstein, and the remaining Rats; his home itself becomes an informal gathering place for them all. Mahogany decides to stay as well; despite how scattered everyone becomes, these are the people he knows best, the ones who connected with him and who, like Gold and Helena, accepted him and taught him how to connect in return.

[Mahogany Rat 2023 [‎Friday, ‎March ‎3, ‎2023, ‏‎4:00:19 AM]]

[exsgttibbs]

the future liberals want || bib

Summary: It’s Tibby’s 18th birthday, and Babette has a secret Notes: this was meant to be for wrimo but  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ no TWs as far as i can remember

@babettexdurand

BABETTE 

Babette had organised a lot of birthday parties in her time, but this was actually the first 18th. Naturally, most families wanted to handle milestones like that themselves. She was having a hard time containing her excitement, considering that was exactly why she was planning this one. Because now she had a family of her own, and it wasn’t even a dream. It seemed almost impossible that little Tabitha was turning eighteen, but here they all were to celebrate. Tibbs, Babette, the birthday girl herself, and her little sister. You might think things couldn’t get any better than that, but… Well, Babette wasn’t going to spoil Tibby’s day with any big announcement, though keeping the secret for much longer might be tricky. Hopefully all their party activities would keep everyone distracted enough, if her celebratory glass of wine later went untouched. 

She was, also, a little bit nervous of telling Willis the news. He hadn’t voiced any objections to the idea of a second child, but Odette was still a toddler. Thus far any mentions of another baby had been offhand and joking, mostly in relation to how neither of them were in a rush to once again go through the rigmarole of convincing them to sleep through the night in their own bed. There was just about enough time to settle her anxieties before Tibbs returned with Tabitha in tow- Babette had opted to stay home while they took a trip to the science museum, setting up for the celebration and making sure Odette got a nap so she wouldn’t be cranky later- and the grin she was sporting when she heard the key in the lock and rushed to the door to greet the pair was real. 

“Mon Beau!” She wound one arm around Tibbs’ shoulders- the other keeping Odette on her hip- to pull him down for a quick peck on the cheek before moving on to their very special guest, “happy birthday!” Babette trilled, pulling Tabitha in for a hug too before ushering them both further into the house. “Did the two of you have a fun afternoon? Have you had lunch? Dinner is still in the oven but there’s cookies and all sorts if you’re hungry. Do you want to open your presents now or later? I know your friends might be bringing some when they join us later, but you could open a couple from your father and I first.” 

Babette may have gone a tad overboard with the decor, but you only turned eighteen once! She’d been so lucky to get to watch Tabitha grow up these last few years, and was just so thrilled to get to be a part of this. So there were streamers, and banners, and balloons, and a few embarrassing childhood photos scattered about to boot. “...I can tone things down a bit before your friends arrive. If it’s lame, or something.” Maybe it was, but Tibby had always been the biggest supporter of her and Tibbs, and she just wanted to do what she could do to show that Tibby was special to her, too. 

TIBBS

He had let Tibby drive to the science museum in her terrible, no good little beaten up car that was definitely going to conk out on her in the middle of the night and he kept on telling her that, even though it only seemed to make her love it more. He had a flash of how strange it was, sitting in the passenger seat, glancing across at his daughter as she talked a mile a minute about uni, the things she was buying and the arrangements she was making, how she’d joined a group for people moving into the dorms, how she had already started getting some second-hand textbooks. Tibbs was listening, of course he was. She was going to Pride U. Not to be a doctor, though she still begged him for his horror stories even now, but still. He was proud of her; and he was more than a little excited to have her closer, after all these years of driving backwards and forwards to London to fetch her. 

But it was hard not to think about how much time had passed. How grown up she was, even if her birthday request had been going to the science museum. It was her birthday, Tibbs wasn’t going to tell her what to do with it, but still. He remembered the little girl who had come all the way to Swynlake on her own, looking for her father. She was an adult now, even if to him she was still a kid, and she probably always would be. He felt a strange pang in his chest, bittersweet yearning, thinking about the time that had passed.

“You’re going soppy.” Tibby informed him, pulling the car up outside the house. The brakes ground as she did, setting Tibbs’ teeth on edge. He hated this little Nissan Micra death trap.

He huffed. “Can’t an old man get a little nostalgic on his daughter’s birthday?”

“You’re not that old.” Tabitha pointed out. Paused. “Alright, you’re ancient.” She grinned. “But no, he can’t - at least not until after my party. Let’s go inside, I want my presents.”

“Who says you’re getting any?” Tibbs grumbled, hauling himself out of the car and up the garden path. The door opened to the exact amount of commotion he was expecting: Captain trying to jump up, Diana nosing at their knees, his wife’s arm around his shoulders and his youngest daughter’s chubby little hands, grabbing at his shirt. It was a welcome that Tibbs looked forward to pretty much every time he came home - he kissed Bridgette’s cheek, and then the top of Odie’s head, and followed them into the living room.

Tibby was stood in the middle of the chaos; she turned to grin at Bridgette over her shoulder. “Are you kidding? I love it! It’s perfect. And, uh–” She held her hands up, counting on her fingers, “Yes we had fun, yes we had lunch, and yes I want my presents now. But I also won’t say no to a cookie.”

“Your teeth are going to fall out.” Tibbs pointed out. He reached for Odette, offering to take her from Bridgette. “I’ll get the cookies, you point her in the direction of the presents. Stand clear, though. She’s like the tasmanian devil ripping into those things, I don’t want any innocent bystanders getting hurt.”

BABETTE

The house was quite often in a state of semi-chaos, yes. Between the two dogs, Tibbs’ often unpredictable schedule, and the kids. Babette adored it. Granted that sentiment might be tested by bringing another baby into the picture, but she had managed bigger households before, and she knew Tibbs would do his part too, as he always did. Despite his initial worries he was so wonderful with Odie and Babette could just tell she was going to be such a daddy's girl. Watching the two of them together now as she handed Odie over- who immediately started babbling at her father- made her wonder, for the first time, if their next would be a girl or boy. 

She pressed a hand gently to her stomach and smiled, jerking back into motion a few moments later when she realised Tibby was staring at her, practically fizzing with excitement. “Right! Presents, yes.” Babette cleared her throat, “don’t mind me, I’m getting just as sentimental as your dad. I can’t wait ‘till you see what we got you!” The presents were piled up neatly by the coffee table, mostly from Tibbs and Babette, but there was a smattering of cards and other gifts from relatives and the like. 

Tibbs returned to the living room shortly after, expertly weaving around animals and kids toys to set the cookies down on the coffee table. “Ok, so open this one first.” Babette instructed, picking up a large box and a card from the two of them to give to Tibby, “ and then the card.” Like her father had predicted, she wasted no time ripping into the first one, which was an assortment of dorm decor, a few recipe cards, and some nice skincare bits and pieces. Babette had picked out most of this stuff, because she knew it could be tricky the first time out on your own so she wanted to make sure Tabitha had a nice space, and some calming rituals. Also those dorms were unfathomably bland. 

She rifled through everything with appreciative comments, promising to eat properly- a promise Babette knew she was likely to break, but was not too worried over- while Babette and Tibbs exchanged excited glances, eagerly awaiting her response to the second gift. Odie bounced happily on her fathers’ knee, oblivious but adorable, and Babette was very quickly emotional again, at the thought of this time next year when the four of them would become five.

Tabitha’s exclamations brought her attention back to the now, and Babette laughed as she started hollering, jumping up and down on the sofa and driving both dogs and toddler to respond in kind with loud babbling and barking. Oh god, and next year there will be five of them. She hoped their soundproofing was good.

TIBBS

When they’d first brought Odette home Tibbs had been terrified of holding her. She seemed so fragile and delicate, so small. He had held babies before, of course he had, but this was his baby. And he was so scared of not cradling her head the right way, or letting her slip out of his grasp. It was hard not to think about everything that could go wrong, given his profession, but nowadays he knew that Odie was made of pretty sturdy stuff. He’d seen her run face first into doors and trip over her own two feet onto the floor; he didn’t have to worry so much anymore.

Right now he hoisted her onto his hip, a movement so familiar that it was more muscle memory than anything else as he carried her through to the kitchen. She saw the plate of cookies before he did – chubby hands reached out for them, so Tibbs took one off the plate to give to her before he picked the plate up, carrying it through to the living room.

He set the plate down on the coffee table, just in time for Tabitha to start rifling through the box of things they’d given her for her dorm room. Admittedly a lot of that had been more Bridgette’s idea than his; when Tibbs had been at university his room had been bare walls and a bed and not much else. He hadn’t even had a lampshade for most of it, just the bare bulb, but he didn’t necessarily want Tibby to have the same experience. 

He kept a hold of Odie to keep her out of the way, letting Tabitha open her presents in peace. It was hard, though, to keep anyone out of the way when Tibby shrieked, “Disneyland!? We’re going to Disneyland!?”

The dogs scurried into the room, Captain barking, trying to jump up at Tabitha; Diana sniffed around, her tail wagging furiously, wondering what the commotion was. Tibbs only smiled, happy that she was happy - it was their first family holiday, so he’d been hoping it would be a good surprise. 

“Mm hm. Already squared it with your mum. We’re all going - all four of us.”

He looked over at Bridgette, smiling softly.

BABETTE

Tabitha had embraced Babette as her fathers’ new partner with as much grace and respect as she could’ve hoped- more, in-fact. For weeks before they’d told her the uncertainty had her in a chokehold. She knew it was not an easy change to accept, and that having to expand your idea of what a family could be- especially when you were a teenager already dealing with all the upheaval which came at that age- could be tough. But here they were. Babette had no intention of ever trying to replace Tibby’s mother, of course, but they’d grown very close, and she was looking forward to getting more time with her before university. 

Four. Right. Babette had hurridley done the maths last night, and to her relief it would still be safe for her to fly, since they’d opted to go in the summer. It’d disqualify her from a lot of the rides, she was sure, but as long as there were plenty of princesses about to take photos with Odette and all the food carts around to satisfy whatever pregnancy craving she might have, it would all still be lovely. 

She grinned back across at Tibbs, knowing he’d be getting his own surprise soon. Tomorrow, probably, because today wasn’t about her but she didn’t want to keep the lid on things too long. “Okay, okay! We can go over the details later- why don’t you go put on your party outfit, hm? Your friends will be here soon!” Babette pushed to her feet, gathering up the discarded wrapping paper to toss in the bin as Tibby scurried off to her bedroom. She saw Odette’s little hands reaching out towards the cookie tray, and slid it further along the table, “I know your father let you have one as soon as you saw them, missy.” She playfully admonished the little girl, bending to press a kiss to her forehead, then one to Tibbs’ cheek. “How are you feeling, hm? Any tears yet? I have to say, I nearly started bawling myself this morning when I was icing the cake.” Babette chuckled, smoothing a hand through his hair, “dread to think what I’ll be like when this little lady starts growing up, hm?”

TIBBS

When Tabitha rushed upstairs the dogs rush off after her, leaving the living room in silence for a moment. The only noise was the thump of Tibby’s steps upstairs and Odette’s huffing as she tried to reach the cookies, chubby little fists so intent on grabbing another treat for herself. Tibbs was softer than Bridgette, sometimes; not all the time, but sometimes. He probably would’ve let her had another cookie if only she’d been able to reach it. Consider it a reward for hard work, or something like that. 

He smiled when his wife kissed his cheek, looking up at her and huffing softly, smiling just a little. “No tears yet - not in front of her, anyways. Only when her back’s turned.” They’d had a good time at the museum. They’d just gotten in a new collection, space suits and rovers and all kinds of stuff brought back from the ISS and shipped over from NASA, and though Tibby hadn’t mentioned it, Tibbs knew she would love it. He had picked the brochure up when he’d stopped in to town hall one day, and he’d kept in his pocket, tucked away for a month. Every time Tibby’d called or texted he’d been dying to tell her, but he’d managed to keep it a secret. And it was worth it for the look on her face when they walked through the dark tunnel into the exhibit, the walls lined with little blinking lights in the shape of constellations Tibbs only knew the name of thanks to his daughter.

And so maybe he’d gotten a little misty eyed once or twice, when she had been reading a plaque or staring at something so intently, taking it apart and piecing it back together in her brain. She didn’t often say she wanted to be an astronaut anymore - if you asked her what career she was wanting to go into, all she said was that she wanted to study astrophysics. But Tibbs had his suspicions. And it had made him a little emotional, that was all. To think that Tabitha was so grown up now, getting to chase the dreams she held close to her chest.

“Ah, we’ve got plenty of time for that,” Tibbs chuckled, looking back down at Odie. He bounced her a few times, sending her into a fit of giggles. “You’re not going to grow up for ages, are you Odie?”

She shook her head; Tibbs looked up at Bridgette again with a grin. “Want me to help get the place tidied up? If I put Bluey on for her Odie won’t even know we’re missing, I think.”

BABETTE

Of course, over the span of her career, Babette had met many fathers. Most of them were good, a few brilliant, and some awful. Tibbs was consistently in the wonderful category, and had always been, long before she’d considered him as a romantic interest. (Well, long before she’d seriously considered him as a romantic prospect, because any handsome and kind doctor with such a sweet daughter was in with a bit of a chance.) 

She gazed down at him sweetly, wondering, “how did she like that new space exhibit? Did you manage to surprise her with it, or was there something that gave it away before you got in?” Babette hoped it had stayed under wraps. Tibby was too clever to keep a lot of secrets from- another reason keeping their relationship from her in the early stages was near impossible- but Tibbs deserved a chance to surprise her every now and then. 

“Oh, I hope not. I wish she could stay this age forever.” Babette cooed at their daughter, gently gripping her toes to wiggle her little feet. “You’re just so cute aren’t you…” She babbled away for a moment- it wasn’t really the best for their language skills, but it just made Babette’s heart melt when Odie babbled right back.

Babette straightened up and smoothed down her skirt, hand pausing over her stomach for a brief moment before she cleared her throat and dropped it. “Yes, yes.. The kitchen is a little cluttered, but it’s mostly stuff to be set out on the dining table- plates and the like, the party food. I can take care of that, would you tidy away some of Odie’s stuff in here? It can just go in her room. I managed to get her down for a nap earlier so she won’t be fussy, but we shouldn’t keep her up too late after everyone’s here.” When Tibbs stood she leaned a little closer to him, and asked with a knowing tone, “how do you know she’ll be so well distracted by that show? Are you letting our daughter sit in front of the tv all day?” She wagged a finger at him, only playfully admonishing.

They’d both admitted fairly early that sometimes- no matter how much you loved the kid- they had the capacity to drive you up the wall like nothing else, and you needed fifteen minutes to yourself. A little tv didn’t hurt. 

TIBBS

��Have you ever watched Bluey?” Tibbs asked, settling Odette on the couch so he could begin to tidy up around her. “I don’t think I’d know if Odette went missing whilst it’s on. I don’t think I’d know if you went missing.” He was joking; mostly.

He did his best to tidy up the living room, Odie decently distracted by the TV and a sippy cup of juice when she asked for it. Tibbs had nipped into the kitchen, coming to stand behind his wife for a moment, hands on her hips, a kiss pressed to her cheek in one quick, quiet moment before he’d got back to the task at hand. Odie’s toys were tidied and put away, dog toys put back into their beds and scraps of wrapping paper cleared away, presents put in a pile in the corner, near the TV. It wouldn’t stay tidy for long, not with Tibby’s friends coming round, but still. It was nice to have it in a good place to start with.

Tibby was the one to launch herself downstairs when the doorbell rang, welcoming her friends inside in an eruption of cheers and giggles and presents being passed around. He liked Tabitha’s friends; they were all good people, at least as far as Tibbs knew them. They all said good night to Odie as he carried her upstairs, telling them to get the party started, that he would be down soon. 

For the most part, though, he let them get on with it. It was her eighteenth, he wasn’t going to cramp her style. But as the night wound down Tabitha took a bottle of prosecco out to the garden, saying she was too scared to open it indoors just in case she popped a window along with the bottle. The dogs loved it, anyways; the bang sent the careening across the lawn, trying to chase the cork as it sailed through the air.

“Now, she’s probably going to hate this, but as her dad, I’m obliged to embarrass the birthday girl,” Tibbs said, when everyone had a glass of prosecco in hand. “I’ll keep things short, though. Tabitha, I’m unbelievably proud of you. And incredibly proud of the smart, sure young woman you’ve become. You’re a good daughter, a good sister, and a good friend, and I know that this is just the beginning for you.” He raised his glass a little, ignoring the way Tibby rolled her eyes. “To Tibby.”

Everyone toasted, and Tibbs took a sip from the glass in his hand, noticing out of the corner of his eye the way Bridgette held onto hers, discreetly putting it down after a moment. Tibbs frowned softly, moving closer to her when Tibby’s friends got to chatting again, the music picking back up. “Hey,” He murmured, a hand on her elbow. “Everything okay?”

BABETTE

There was no one right way to start a family, or fall in love, and Babette was firmly of the belief that there wasn’t just one person out there for everyone, either. She’d loved before Tibbs, and- knock on wood- if anything should happen, she hoped it would be possible to love again after him. But there were moments that made her heart leap, that made her think; yes, everything turned out just right. Tibbs’ brief affection as he passed through the kitchen, or when Tabitha would come to her for advice, or the first time Odette wrapped her tiny hand around one of Babette’s fingers. So there was a smile on her face as she set out party food and cleaned up all her baking mess, the sound of cartoons and her daughters’ peels of laughter drifting through from the living room. Better than Texas, no contest.

What would another baby do? At one point, Tibbs hadn’t been sure if he wanted any babies. Babette had felt so seriously about it she’d put their whole relationship on pause while he figured it out. He’d come around, obviously, and they’d had Odette. But what happened if he hated the thought of a second baby? The party happened all around her while Babette tried not to let all her worries take her down a sad spiral, putting on her best Happy Hostess Smile and trying to make sure the supplies of snacks and drinks never ran too low without getting in the way. 

Babette avoided it almost all night, mostly by slipping off to check on Odie and abandoning her drink on a side table somewhere, or excusing herself to the bathroom and emptying her glass down the sink. Inevitably, though, the birthday girls’ dad wanted to make a toast, and he was too damn observant for his own good. That's what she got for marrying a doctor. “Everything’s fine!” Babette said, as brightly as she could manage, bringing a hand to her face and dabbing gently under her eyes. She had teared up a tiny bit during his speech, so technically there was no lying going on. “I think that speech finally broke the damn, you know. Do I have mascara all down my cheeks, or something?” 

TIBBS Tibbs wasn’t sure he believed her. She had been quiet all evening, and of course they both wanted to give Tibby and her friends some space, but still. She was quieter than he would have expected, more subdued for sure. He frowned softly as she dabbed under her eyes, reaching up to catch a stray tear with the pad of his thumb, wiping it away. 

He had a tendency to trust his gut. It was a good instinct to have, as a doctor - there were so many times where he had felt like something was wrong, even when there hadn’t been any outward signs of it, and he had followed his gut and been right. Maybe he was just imagining it, or making things up, but Tibbs’ gut had been right too many times for him to start ignoring it now. 

He glanced over his shoulder at Tibby, who was too busy dancing and laughing with her friends to be paying any attention to her dad. He set a hand on Bridgette’s elbow, nodding his head towards the kitchen as he led her towards it. It would be good to take a moment somewhere quieter, he thought, either to put his mind to rest or to figure out what was going on. 

He leaned against the countertop, looking at Bridgette for a long moment. “Be honest with me.” He said softly, concern written in the furrow of his brow. “What’s up?”

BABETTE

Their work meant both of them well practised at spotting liars. Babette had hoped that his daughters’ birthday would be distraction enough, and Tibbs would be too busy lamenting how grown up she’d gotten to pay quite as much attention as he usually did. She should’ve had more faith in him, though, or perhaps a little less confidence in her ability to get through the whole day without letting her secret out. Tibbs always noticed. He sanded down the corner of their kitchen table after Babette knocked her hip against it one too many times, he put handles lower down on their kitchen cabinets so she didn’t have to get on her tiptoes to open them, he kept one of her hair-ties in his pocket and managed to hand it over exactly when she was looking for one. 

Fortunately, Babette knew how to divert his focus. “Nothing’s up.” She said, smoothing a thumb over the space between his brows, “don’t frown, if you get wrinkles people will start actually believing you’re old enough to have an eighteen year old.” This wasn’t the time for the discussion they probably needed to have. Things had been different with Odette; they’d actively been trying to have a baby. It wasn’t like she thought Tibbs was going to leave her over this, or anything, but if another child wasn’t really what he wanted it could… Strain things, certainly. 

She cupped his face in both hands and smiled once he relaxed his expression. ”There, so handsome.” Babette leaned in and kissed him, her arms looping around his neck, “and so sweet.” Another kiss, and one of her hands slid up into Tibbs’ hair as she pressed more across his cheek, right up to his ear. “Do you think our guests will notice if we sneak off upstairs?” 

TIBBS

It was difficult not to be reassured by the gentle brush of her fingertips along his cheekbones, the soft press of her lips against his. Even after all this time he could be quickly disarmed by something so simple as a kiss – he had worried, after the curse was broken, that things like this would become commonplace. The magic would be gone, so to speak; the novelty worn off after a while. Hadn’t happened yet, though. He was starting to think that it probably never would. 

Tibbs slid his arms around her waist, holding her close when she pressed against him. He gave a soft chuckle, hiding his face in the crook of her neck for a moment, pressing a kiss there before he leaned back. Just a little bit – just enough to be able to see her. It was a very tempting offer. Odette was asleep in her room, Tabitha was otherwise occupied… but she was also incredibly observant. He knew that from experience. And if she discovered they were gone, she would definitely go looking.

“Unfortunately I do,” He huffed, offering a rueful smile. “But as long as you’re sure you’re alright,” He raised one hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”

He meant it. After the curse, all the secrets that had been kept between them before. He didn’t want any more of that now. 

“I had better go back out there before she suspects us of having another surprise for her.” He chuckled, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Bridgette’s lips before he pulled away.

BABETTE She’d told him far worse. Every terrible truth Babette had pulled out, Tibbs had accepted. And this wasn’t a bad thing- hopefully- just… Poorly timed. Honestly she couldn’t pinpoint exactly why this was so scary. Tibbs was her husband. He’d made a commitment to her. Hell, he’d made a commitment the day he’d told her that if he only ever got to hold her hand, it was enough. (Thankgod they’d been able to do more than hold hands, though, even if that was exactly what had her feeling all twisted up right now). As many times as Babette had known love, it had always been fragile, and she sometimes forgot that wasn’t the case now. 

Tibbs loved her, without making a secret of it. Would he be happy about this? Babette wasn’t sure, but she wanted him to be, and there was only one way to know. She pouted playfully as he rejected her suggestion, but he was right that they’d be missed, and he was right that she could tell him anything. He’d proved that often enough.

But he was leaving, and their quiet little moment was about to slip right out of her fingers, and when was the next time they’d have a chance? Babette had said tomorrow, but really there’d be a bunch of hungover kids to make breakfast for, and then getting all those kids home, and then all the tidying up. There was always going to be a reason it wasn’t time to tell him.

“Willis-” She said it before he could leave the kitchen, because his full first name only meant one of two things, and since she wasn’t half naked he’d know it meant something Serious. So now she had to tell him. “I…” Babette sighed, twisting her fingers together for a moment before squaring her shoulders and looking at him properly. “I’m pregnant.” She pressed her lips together to avoid waffling on nervously, and just waited, watching him. 

TIBBS

She was right to use his first name – it pulled his attention back to her before he could head back into the living room, making him turn on his heel to face her. He had been hoping that she would tell him whatever was going on, if only to get it off her chest and clear the air more than anything else, but of course if it was something he could fix, he would do his best to help. If it was something worrying her, he would do his best to reassure her. Whatever it was, he just wanted her to know that she didn’t have to hide it from him, that he would help her to shoulder the burden of whatever it was as best he could.

He really wasn’t expecting her to say that, though.

His eyebrows arched, his expression one of gentle surprise as he let that sink in for a second. Pregnant. She was pregnant, they were going to have a baby - another one. Odie was still just a baby herself, really. Well, a toddler, and she was easily manageable between himself and Bridgette and Tabitha too, if she was going to be around more outside of school, but still. It wasn’t like they had been planning for a baby like they had with Odette. It maybe wasn’t the best timing.

Tibbs took a deep breath. And then he grinned, unable to help himself, as he crossed the kitchen again to wrap his wife up in his arms.

“That’s– God, I don’t–” He pulled back just enough to be able to see her, momentarily looking over the top of her head and off into the middle distance. “I mean, it’s a lot, and it’s unexpected, but it’s– amazing.” He looked down at her, meeting her gaze with a small shake of his head. “I mean, you’re – happy, aren’t you?”

BABETTE

He pivoted like he was still in the military, being called to attention by some superior or other. It usually made Babette laugh, if she was calling him back during some kind of spat or for something flirtatious, but having his full attention now just made her more nervous. Obviously it was important to have his full attention for what she was saying, but the anticipation while he stared at her and processed the news was driving her mad. 

There would be questions, of course, about how they’d manage having another child so soon, certainly a lot of planning in regards to budget and schedules and the like. But they’d think about that another time. A party was hardly the place even for the announcement she’d already made, nevermind the rest of the crap that came with it. She thought they had plenty to celebrate, afterall, and thank god Tibbs felt the same.

Amazing.

Babette pushed up onto her tiptoes and kissed Tibbs hard, her mouth curving into a grin as she pulled away, giggling, “so so happy.” She promised, his face in her hands. Her love for children was no big secret, afterall, or even a little secret. It was so important she and Tibbs had nearly never made it this far at all. “I just- I didn’t want… I know we haven’t talked about it, and I didn’t want you to feel… I don’t know. Are you happy? It’s not exactly great timing, with Odie still so young and all. But we’ll make it work, won’t we?”

TIBBS

He wouldn’t lie, he was nervous. He had only really just started taking more on at work, getting back to a similar schedule he’d had before Odette was born because she was old enough, now, for him to be able to take a bit more on. He wasn’t worried about the financial side of things, just… well, they were going to have a houseful, weren’t they? Odette was still young, and would have to compete with a newborn for attention. And even though Tabitha was an adult, now, she still needed attention too. The last thing Tibbs wanted to do was neglect her because he was too caught up in a newborn and a toddler.

But they would come to all of that. There was time to think about it all. Nine months to remind Tibby that he was there for her whenever she needed him and to make arrangements with work, to get the nursery ready. Nine months that would fly by, no doubt, but still. They could get to the difficult bits later.

“Would there ever have been a great time?” He asked, his arms still wound tight around her, keeping her close. “Now’s as good a time as any. Odie’s young, but– she’s a good baby. She’ll be okay. Tibby’ll be over the moon, we might have to fetch her down from the ceiling when we tell her.” He chuckled, leaning in to kiss his wife again, resting his forehead against hers for a moment. “We’ll make it work.” He agreed. “When have we ever not?”

BABETTE

After having Odette, she’d had to lighten her own work schedule a bit, but luckily when you worked in childcare there were very few people selfish enough to say you couldn’t bring your own child along while you looked after theirs. Still, it was the least she’d ever worked, and also the least she’d ever worried about money, which had taken some getting used to. With another baby on the way she’d probably take off work entirely at least for a while before and after they were born. 

But here she was, getting way ahead of herself again. No time would’ve been perfect. There were always going to be other things going on, and you just learned to handle it. Babette’s arms slid around his shoulders, and she ran her hands idly through his hair, more settled than she had felt all evening. “We’re not going to get any sleep for years.” She pointed out with a shake of her head, tone stern even as she smiled. “They’ll rile each other up, I’m serious. Be ready for bed time to become the biggest battle of your life.” Hey, she’d managed bigger households. “You’re right.” She conceded, smile growing. “We’ll make it work.” 

TIBBS

He snorted softly, shaking his head against a smile. No, they probably weren’t going to be getting any sleep. Two small children in the house – it was going to be a challenge, that much he was sure of. And of course there were the niggling thoughts at the back of his mind, worries and doubts and anxiety creeping up on him, but it wasn’t as if the road had been easy up to this point. He and Bridgette had been through far worse than a baby and a toddler under the same roof. 

And besides, he was far too happy to be worried, at least right now. There would be things to think about, things to do, they really might have to move house because surely they were going to need an extra bedroom now– but Tibbs pushed them to the side, choosing instead to press a soft, sweet kiss to his wife’s lips. “I love you.”

BABETTE

Thankgod they’d both been used to a fairly unpredictable schedule even before they’d met, honestly, because things weren’t about to get calmer. But that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, at least in Babette’s eyes; she’d spent her first few years in Swynlake living alone in a dull, empty apartment. Now her home was never dull, and even if it made her want to pull her hair out sometimes, she wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

“I love you too.” She said, never ungrateful for how easily the sentiment could come. No more secrets. She didn’t need them. Babette closed her eyes and curled into Tibbs’ hold for just a moment, before reluctantly pulling away to just hold his hand, “come on, we’re really pushing our luck hiding in here.” Though it would’ve been nice to stay in the bubble, that wasn’t their reality, and the cacophony of teenage noise as they headed back into the living room was proof. She glanced back up at Tibbs with a grin, “we’ve just got to get to two more of these parties, and then we might get some peace and quiet around here again.” Of course, those two parties were quite some time away, but Babette was sure the time between would feel like a blink by the next time she was putting eighteen candles in a birthday cake.

The rest of the night passed quite predictably, and for once Tibbs managed to convince Babette to leave the cleaning until the morning. They fell asleep with her back against his chest, and his arms wrapped gently around her. 

[darlingpwease]

Lol tysm Dove <33

Congratulations!!! She's such a beauty, I'm glad she came home to u!!! :DD

I'm glad u can take time to relax!! Make sure to take good advantage of it lmao

Ouch, we haven't got snow yet (somehow), but the wind chill is so cold that it might as well be here

I'm not a big fan of the summer heat, but I gotta admit that I kinda miss it rn lol </33

Hopefully ur weather clears up soon, or the very least that the ice melts until the weather warms!!

It's just that sometimes want him to suffer a little

I may know someone who has some writing on sorcerer!Yuuta and dying/dead!reader with angst ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-panna cotta

... If I were frost, I'd bite your cheeks </3333 /pos

you're so right, she's so beautiful,,,, I believe in the superiority of beautiful feminine persons with elvish features </3333 even if she invites you to "dance" and then you fight with her for almost five minutes in her three forms until you feel the desire to just stop, she is still the most beautiful crystal flower that I have seen. I can always talk about her and how she gives you 500k just to throw one thousand later and it's not related to the ulta or weapons, she's just. she just does that. my unpredictable beautiful wife <333 so so so obsessed with her </3333

I'll try!!! I only have one class tomorrow, so I'll try to rest and then do math so it doesn't bother me anymore.

know that may sound like an excellent student, but it's not, and the usual passing grade in mathematics is enough for me </3333

are you not? on the one hand, I sympathize, because the real charm of winter is in the snow, which crunches and pushes through, as grass or sand cannot, but at the same time there is no snow, so there is no snow and ice everywhere, so that's also good!

I know what you mean. unfortunately, it is very hot in my nest because the coolness of the floor does not reach the second floor of the bed, and I often get stuffy, while it is really cold downstairs. a long-standing conflict between becoming a snowman and sleeping like on a hot stove. anyway, keep warm, okay? blankets, pillows, clothes, hot water — they help you relax well while there are not too many of them.

NOOOOO I beg if it melts again and then freezes I will begin to lead a reclusive lifestyle and stay at home forever </3333

/j

the weather is good, actually. this is especially noticeable when you fall down and look up from the sick leg that sacrificed itself to the clouds and dim trees. the problem is that you are forced to look up — but these are small things. /j

oh really??? they sound like very amazing and intelligent people with a good imagination; it's amazing that I've never met them before!!! they don't write very actively, do they??? so quiet and talented. you should introduce us to each other!!!!!

[ziptieparty]

i havent seen anyone alloromantic specifically talk about their experiences in aplatonicism, so i thought that more input from a different perspective could be useful?

i relatively recently (maybe 2-3 months ago) saw someone use the word "aplatonic" to describe themselves, and several things clicked into place with me, my general thought process being something like "of course theres a subset of aspec labels for platonic attraction, people feel romantic and sexual attraction separately so obviously theres a platonic side to." and i left it at that for awhile but something about it stuck with me.

i suppose ill start at the beginning,

when i was a kid i was mainly friends with boys, and for awhile i attributed this to being trans and just relating more to male peers. i do still believe this to be a factor but now thinking back on it i realized there was a pattern to my relationships.

at one point or another, i had had crushes on almost all of them.

i realized all at once that the only reason i had even spoken to a majority of my childhood friends was because i had been romantically attracted to them at the beginning of our friendships.

now, i can anticipate some kind of argument along the lines of "thats just how crushes and friendships grow with everyone" or some such nonsense

but i can say with my whole chest that thats not what was happening.

im not very good at explaining things in a way that makes sense to most, but i will attempt to be as clear as possible.

a lot of people wanted to be my friend.

i was funny and loud and friendly to my classmates. i liked to play tag at recess and brought pokemon cards and my tamagotchi to school before they were banned. i shared the parts of my lunches i didnt want, i stood up to bullies, and sat with people that were alone.

but that was about the extent of it

i was friendly

but i was never your friend

i generally considered myself a "loner" and no matter how friendly or talkative or persistent or technically compatible my classmates were-

it never took.

i just. wanted to do what i wanted to do.

i had kids i interacted with often and i named them friends when prompted to list any, but i never actually. spoke to them? it was more like i sat next to them and we did things alongside eachother (parallel play style) and i would say little things to them like hello or good morning or maybe that i liked their shoes but i never like. discussed what i liked with them or vice versa. i couldnt tell you a thing about them beyond their names.

this pattern continued until i started to develop crushes, suddenly i was initiating contact with kids without outside factors. i sat with them and gave them the sweet parts of my food and for the first time

i asked them questions

i wanted to know if they liked the cartoons i did and who their favorite characters were, i was curious about what they liked and what they thought. their input mattered to me.

a majority of my relationships from then on followed similar patterns, i thought they were cute or funny and so i talked to them and could tolerate the connection that followed.

i didnt keep my feelings for a lot of them of course, i had no way of knowing who these people were before getting to know them but the point still stands; i had to have a crush on them first.

this wasnt always the case with my friends, sometimes when i would interact with someone the stars would align and id stay in contact somehow and id end up with a friend that didnt start with romantic feelings.

my life gets messy from my teens on and i will spare you my life story, but i ended up in a position that i only had one person i could pass off as a friend. the relationship was just like the ones from my early childhood, i just kind of existed alongside her and i couldnt really tell you anything about her.

ive never formed bonds with anyone without outside influence and the ones i did were rare or romantic at first. isolation doesnt really bother me, i dont like or need to talk to people often, my own family barely knows me and has to force my interaction

sometimes i kind of joke with my husband that id never had a real friend before because i could never tell him anything about the friends i still had when i had met him, and now i think i have the words to describe why?

im not entirely sure what i should label myself, demiplatonic fits but i feel is a disservice to the people that i was or am friends with that were faster and didnt start romantically. perhaps grayplatonic or something but im just going with aplspec for the moment.

[teenandbeyond]

Hi dear, may i ask for Raph x broadway musical actress reader headcannons pls? And remember to hydrate love 💗

Raphael x Fem. Broadway Reader

Thank you, you too! Edit: Honestly, I wrote this way better originally, but my computer randomly decided to update and Tumblr doesn't automatically save, soooo yeah.

Want more from me? M a s t e r l i s t 2

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

🧶The Mutant of the Opera🧶

Warning(s): ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Among your admirers, there's one special turtle who's your biggest fan.

✨✨✨✨

The first thing about you that Raph fell in love with?

Your voice.

It was strong and soulful, drawing him in, but warm enough to keep him rooted one night at practice.

It was your third musical, first in New York, and you were a supporting character, so you didn't have to come every night considering you didn't have many parts.

And opening night? He was mad you weren't the leading role.

You had the looks, the voice, and the charisma.

Hence, the giant turtle currently on the roof ignoring his communication device.

He made sure to show up each night, soon coming to the roof mere moments before you appeared. He had you timed.

🎶"Lift your head up, darlin'!... Never let them see ya' down. Never be afraid of yourself, keep your feet up off the ground...as you fly! To the sky! Reach your dreams, way up high!"🎶

He hoped to see you again.

And he did, the next year, you were a main character, yet not a leading role.

He hated not being able to watch you like everyone else.

But you had such a presence, it honestly didn't even matter.

And after that musical, you had a fanbase.

Raphael created an anonymous account to fanboy with the others.

Then he was waiting, waiting for you to come back.

Then news came, you were coming to New York to stay.

You lived there now!

And a year and a half later, you got that leading role.

"'Bout time. She ain't fit for anythin' else but lead," Raph complained.

"What're you talking about?" Mikey peeked over his shoulder at the newspaper article Raph was reading.

"Don't worry about it--"

"That broadway star you have a crush on?"

Raph scoffed, awkwardly looking away, "It's not a crush..."

"Dude, you've been talking about her for at least three years. It's a crush."

"Is not!" he weakly defended.

It kinda was.

He didn't tell anyone about the magazine he stole that you did an interview in.

And he refused to actually show Leo how excited he was when he came home with a poster of you for him.

He was excited for tomorrow night, you got a role that you deserved and he couldn't wait to see you play it out.

Okay

He was not ready

Your voice sounded different, a good different like you've been working hard on it. It had a different strength to it.

You pulled off a dark, edgy look quite well

And combined with your stage presence being stronger than ever, he was quite flustered by your performance.

🎶"I might be the good girl goin' bad. Getting hotter by the degree. But this freedom makes me glad. I'm happier just bein' me!"🎶

Okay, yeah.

He could admit the dark look was hot on you.

Well, what he could see from this angle anyway.

By the time the show ended, he hadn't even realized it.

No one had, you were that captivating to your audience.

Thundering applause.

And then the musical was over.

But something, something that night had him following you as you left the theater after everyone was gone, your shoulders sagged in relief as you stopped in the alley for a moment.

"Sheesh. That was so nerve-wracking! I hope I did well..."

Are you crazy? You could've been a tree and still be the star of the show, Raphael thinks.

"But I suppose I always get nervous the first night..."

He might have a thing for your voice.

You bite and release your lip as you go into thought.

"Now I have to drink all that wine by myself, everyone kinda just dipped out on me. Even the staff left..."

And the worst thing happens.

Raphael unconsciously adjusts his footing and you hear movement.

"Who's there?"

Raph wished it wasn't him.

Your arm snapped up in defense, "I have pepper spray and I'm not afraid to use it!"

He couldn't help but smile at the cute case the painful spray was in. If not for the contents inside, it wouldn't be very intimidating.

"Come out! I know you're there! Don't bother trying to leave now!"

Fierce little thing, aren't ya'?

"I don't wanna scare ya' doll face," he graces you with a response after some silence.

"I don't scare easily, I lived in Baltimore for a while, so I've seen a lot."

"You ain't seen me."

"Try me."

He sighed, time to scare his crush.

He eased down and out of the darkness, hands up in surrender.

You dropped your pepper spray in shock.

"Well. You're right, I haven't seen someone like you, before."

Your eyes were wide, trying to process what you were looking at.

"I won't hurt ya'...I was just watching you--That don't sound right, uh..."

You tilted your head, the large man--was he a man, he seemed more like an animal...a shell, a turtle--seemed to be more afraid than you were.

"Are you male?"

He didn't expect that to be the first question you asked...he didn't expect you to ask anything at all.

"Yeah. I'm a guy, why?"

"Just checking...I...I know some animals are genderfluid or whatever. I don't know how it is for...turtles, right? You're a turtle. Not a tortoise?"

"I'm a turtle."

You blinked, "A...big...turtle. I don't remember them being that big."

"Mutant turtle, princess."

"I...see."

"You're not scared?"

"Honestly? I'm too confused to be scared at the moment."

"Suppose that's fair."

You apprehensively put away the pepper spray after eyeing his weapons. "I'm [Name]."

"I know."

"..."

"I-I didn't mean for that to sound creepy...I just--I'm a fan..."

A giggle bubbled from your chest, "You're a fan of mine?"

"How could I not?"

Then he continued to go into a ramble.

Which was flattering.

"Eh...That's so embarrassing."

"It seems you've been watching my work for a while."

"I've watched every show you've done here."

"Really? Where? I would've thought you'd be noticed for sure."

"The roof."

"The roof? You could hardly see much from up there."

"Well, I mainly just listen to ya'. I see what I can."

"Hm..."

Raphael did not expect to get a private performance in the empty theatre.

After double-checking everyone was gone and the cameras were off, of course.

You were such a doll and ordered pizza, too.

He snuck in a little wine.

No one had to know.

He'd crack some jokes in between, cutting off your singing and trading it for laughter.

"Raphael--let me--let me finish!"

He had lots of fun.

And during the ordeal...he found his heart beating even harder for you.

[xieyaohuan]

#honestly looking at some of the posts/comments in the discourse it's hard to tell humans from bots#based on the mindless repetition of slogans#but that's a different story ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#I guess more to do with indoctrination? via @fantasticpants

I may also try to tackle indoctrination at a later point in time, but for now, I think I want to talk a bit more about humans and bots. I may go a little overboard because managed bot and troll networks are one of my nerdy research obsessions. They are also a really interesting topic that we'll probably be dealing with for a while, since especially with AI tools like ChatGPT and other similar programs it becomes easier to generate high quality content that can pass as human-created.

There’s been a lot of posting about how ChatGPT data is actually getting contaminated and results may be getting worse, but I’m not sure this is necessarily true for all programs. For instance, a colleague noted recently that there are quite significant differences in quality between paid and unpaid versions of programs, and those gaps are growing. So if one only has access to unpaid versions, it becomes increasingly difficult to assess where we’re at in terms of the frontiers of what’s possible. I haven’t looked into that claim or how big the gap really is, but it seems very plausible that this would indeed be happening.

Ultimately, even the unpaid version of ChatGPT is capable of generating content on various political and current topics that reads like authentic, human content. We recently tried this for a project, where we simply said: “Generate a post on topic X emulating the style of twitter account type Y.” It was impossible to tell the difference between the “real” posts and the AI-generated posts. Now I strongly suspect that a lot of the posts from accounts of type Y were indeed also originally created with the help of artificial intelligence. That's because the twitter account type Y we looked at is reasonably well-funded, and even some (most likely) less well-funded social media bot/troll network programs from the same country were already looking into using AI-generated text back in 2018 or so (if I remember correctly). Anyway, most of the stuff I personally have looked at either has a strong human component or combines automation with a human element (e.g. one person being able to post content across multiple social media accounts with a single click through a designated app), and many of them still included real humans writing text, but this may not be representative of how many other state and non-state actors do this (or not anymore, given advances with AI).

While we know a lot about political bot or political organized troll army activity on Facebook, Twitter, and even Youtube, we know next to nothing about similar stuff on tumblr - in part because tumblr isn't considered politically important enough, so it doesn't get studied much and probably gets very little pressure to actively monitor these things proactively (compared to say, Meta). Obviously, there are bots here, but how many relevant state and non-state actors actually maintain bot armies on tumblr for propaganda purposes? We really don't have a clue.

You can certainly find examples of relatively crude operations. For example, I'm pretty sure that most of the accounts that got this post (originally discovered by Albert Zhang) to over 4k notes are part of an info-op bot network, presumably originating in China. I'm primarily making that call based on behavior taken together with the content of the message: The original poster impersonates the Milk Tea Alliance, impersonation in itself being a red flag. Many of the accounts that reblogged the post are nameless and don't have any other activity. Then some accounts reblogged it multiple times with the same comment text. Other accounts have more content but still tick boxes for suspicious behavior such as content with political messages being posted multiple times with no or very little other activity. The Milk Tea Alliance example is pretty crude, which makes it relatively easy to detect the coordinated inauthentic behavior. It likely did not break contagion on tumblr despite having 4k notes because most (if not all) of these notes seem to be coming from the bot network itself. And let's face it, the rest of us can only dream of this kind of like-to-reblog ratio:

I unfortunately don't have the expertise to look into bot networks in the context of Israel and Palestine, and since this kind of research 1. mostly focuses on Russia and China and 2. is so rarely done for tumblr, I also don't know of anyone else who has looked into it (it's actually quite likely that nobody has). I will say that anon asks like this one certainly look like a fluke in some kind of bot system to me. It reminds me of a bot/troll management system (maintained by a subsidiary of a government news agency) which I looked into a while ago where one required feature was supposed to be the ability to monitor the posts of certain people and send out notifications to bot account admins when certain people posted new activity on social media so that they could be countered and/or harassed immediately. But ultimately, I don't know if that's what we're dealing with here - it could be something completely different or just a copy/paste of an overeager fan or hater gone wrong. A bot system fluke would be quite difficult to confirm definitively, and I would have to look for more clues and context before making a more educated guess (which would still not be definitive).

Anyway, I hope this didn't end up too nerdy and incomprehensible. But my main points are: 1. There is evidence of political bot activity on tumblr (at least for China), but we have no clue about the extent of it, which political actors are engaging in coordinated inauthentic behavior on this platform, etc. 2. The bot activity I've seen is quite crude, but that doesn't mean more sophisticated info ops don't already exist here, just that the state of research on bot activity on tumblr is really pathetic/possibly non-existent. And 3. I really wish someone started looking into this a bit more systematically, but I guess nobody really cares enough about tumblr to invest the time and resources.

EDIT: Meta included tumblr in their latest report from August and also mention some of the posts I came across that are of Chinese origin. As they point out, this is a cross-platform operation.

Would love to hear some propaganda 101 from you if you're ever so inclined c:

I think I'm going to start from current events, what I've been seeing on tumblr, and why I would categorize most of what I see here not as propaganda but rather as propaganda-related phenomena, namely the largely organic amplification of propaganda messages, ideologically motivated framings, and heaps upon heaps of misinformation. Ultimately, I actually find what we see here much worse - if all we saw on here was propaganda in the stricter sense, I would find that comforting and reassuring because it would suggest that maybe fewer people than we think actually buy into the views currently being spread (because more of the work would be done by specific groups with organizational structures and a budget for propaganda). Now, I personally still think that much of what we see on here is the outcome of various long-term, organized propaganda campaigns that have been driven by multiple groups with different if sometimes overlapping goals. And a lot of these groups are probably still actively contributing to the current wave of propaganda/information manipulation, but there's a huge organic component as well. Hopefully by the time I'm done with this post, it'll become clear what I mean by this. All lessons for media literacy still apply.

If we look at the definitions of propaganda, it's pretty clear why many of the posts on here don't qualify. There are a large number of definitions for propaganda, each with slight variations, and I should probably point out that many people working in this area reject the term per se because it has been thrown around too much and used by people simply to refer to content they disagree with. I personally still use 'propaganda' to refer to systematic and coordinated information manipulation in service of broad or narrow political goals, and so do some other people. Basically what most definitions of propaganda (or the alternative terms used by those who don't like the term propaganda but, at least in my view, still analyze the same phenomena) have in common is a set of ingredients/boxes to be checked for something to qualify as "propaganda." The one I'll use here is the ABC model, which looks at Actor, Behavior, and Content. I'll tackle these in reverse.

Content: This is the content of a message that is being spread. In many ways, this is the weakest and least meaningful checkbox of the three, though it can and should be used in combination with the other two to assess whether something is propaganda/coordinated information manipulation. When you look at content, one of the things to look for is whether something is true or whether it is disinformation/misinformation. (Generally speaking, the term disinformation is used to refer to false or misleading information spread intentionally, while misinformation is used to refer to false or misleading information spread either intentionally or unintentionally/unwittingly. Just like a lot of people don't like using the term propaganda because it has been thrown around too much, some people have started shunning the term disinformation because they argue it has been abused to much. I have no strong opinions here one way or the other. False or misleading information, whether spread on purpose or not, can range from anything that is outright falsehoods, conspiracy theories, etc. to more subtle forms of manipulated information, such as an incomplete and one-sided picture, selective presentation of facts, the promotion of specific narratives, and framing/selective presentation of reality, either quite literally by literally showing only part of the picture, but also, for example, by presenting facts through a particular ideological lens).

Behavior: On its own, content only tells us so much. False information could be an honest mistake or spread unwittingly. Framing is also something most humans do automatically to make sense of reality. All of this occurs organically pretty often and therefore on its own does not qualify as propaganda/systematic information manipulation by pretty much any standard. This is where analyzing behavior comes into play. This includes stuff like whether there is coordinated behavior, such as multiple accounts spreading the same message either because they are part of the same network or because they have agreed in advance to do so. (An example of coordinated behavior might be the use of a WhatsApp group to push out messages to hundreds of ideologically aligned tumblr users to alert them that another user has posted something "problematic" and asking the members of the group to harass the "problematic user.") A further step is coordinated inauthentic behavior, such as bot or troll networks that are used to promote certain content or pile on/harass others in a coordinated fashion. There are certain ways how analysts can detect inauthentic behavior, especially in more obvious cases when large numbers of accounts created within time frames of each other all start pushing out the same messages, use repetitive language, jump from one topic to the next in unison, etc. but if it's smartly done and involves a strong human component rather than pure automation, it is often harder to detect. (I've done a lot of research on bot/troll networks in their various forms. Political bot/troll networks exist on tumblr, but they have negligible impact as far as I can tell.) Transparency is often used as another criterion when analyzing behavior: is someone transparent about their identity and their goals? Behavior can also include the use of certain (rhetorical and other) techniques used with the intention to manipulate. Intention matters a lot to determine if something qualifies as propaganda. People can spread propaganda unintentionally, but that does not turn them into a propagandist (rather, they would be a potential resource that a propagandist/an actor engaging in organized propaganda could try to use). The point is: somebody somewhere has to be doing something on purpose. This is where the actor comes in.

Actor: When looking simply at information manipulation, an individual can qualify as a relevant actor, but most definitions of propaganda would look at collective actors, such as state actors and non-state actors (religious groups, lobby groups, etc.) pursuing specific broader or narrower political goals. Yes, a single tumblr user can engage in intentional information manipulation for a number of reasons ranging from trolling to acting in service of a larger ideological conviction, but most definitions of propaganda would not count the relatively unsystematic actions of an individual as a propaganda campaign (unless maybe they're Elon Musk and wield massive resources en par with that of a government or a political party to promote their messages and further their goals.) Some definitions of propaganda might include individuals, but in my opinion, that's unhelpful because it potentially turns everything into propaganda and makes the concept useless both analytically and in terms of practical responses. So it is better to look for a collective actor with a goal. The goal is usually to change the behavior of people in a way that is favorable to the actor, for example by starting to support a goal pursued by the actor, by opposing something the actor opposes, or often simply by deciding to refrain from doing something that the actor doesn't want people to do. (The goal can also be simply to confuse people and to create the perception that everything and nothing is true.) In practice, when looking at individual pieces of manipulated information, the actor is not always clearly identifiable, but for something to be propaganda/coordinated information manipulation in pursuit of a political goal, there absolutely has to be an actor acting with intention. A criterion that I personally use to determine whether something is propaganda in the stricter sense is whether the actor has an institutional structure (usually with a budget, however large or small) in place that is dedicated to propaganda, for example a government's propaganda department, a military's press liaison bureau, a company's press or publicity department, a political party's press office, a religious group's communications office, etc. Now just because a state or an organization has a structure in place dedicated to communicating with the public does not necessarily mean it is engaging in propaganda: this is where you have to look at the kind of behavior it engages in together with the content it promotes. This is why A, B, and C are looked at together to make a judgment call on whether something should be treated as propaganda/systematic information manipulation.

Based on all this, when I look at tumblr, what I see is (probably) very few actors that would qualify as actual propagandists (though I'm sure some are active here as well), but still massive spread of messages that contain false and misleading information through largely authentic networks that are not engaged in organized propaganda themselves, but that possibly feature in the resource and ecosystem analyses conducted by actors that do engage in organized propaganda. Where and how organized propaganda and organic networks intersect on this website would require much more detailed analysis that I am personally not capable to conduct in this particular case.