#i think my ideal would have to be B column

[serendipnpipity]

What's your ideal bingo? | PHRIDE 2024 (x)

idea from @proudsnackeezowner

additional phrophecies from @emojackolantern, @antiadvil, and @thighguys

EDIT: I made a poll!

EDIT #2: Phwedding Hill edition

[ultimatepokemontournament]

I’m sorry to bother you with a question like this, but may I ask how you went about putting this bracket together? I’m trying to figure out my own addition to this showdown bandwagon and am also working with a large roster of characters. Jumping in blind would be a disaster, so I thought it best to seek guidance from someone who’s got a solid approach going.

I can definitely summarize what I did! Though without knowing what you're working with, I'm not sure how much this will map onto anything else!

1) Organizing Matches by the Numbers

So I split up the 1000+ Pokemon into more manageable groups by doing them by Generation, which technically means that I'm just running 9 100+ competitor brackets.

Then, for each generation, I targeted ~high 20s, low 30s for my number of matches with 3-5 Pokemon in each match. I wouldn't exceed 5 in a match, and lower is ideal, when you're trying to figure out how this works for your numbers.

Now, I targeted that number of matches because I wanted to use the next round to force-fit it into better tournament numbers— A nice proper 1v1 tournament has power of 2 competitors, so 2, 4, 8, 16, etc... It simplifies the math and makes it easier, and that's something that I chose for my tournament to avoid Pokemon "skipping" rounds, but you don't have to follow that.

So I will be targeting 8 Pokemon going to round 3 out of round 2, so if we take the number of round 1 winners from Gen 1 for example, there are 31 of them. 31/8=3.875 which means 7 4-Pokemoj matches and 1 3-Pokemon match. Perfect. Run those matches, get your 8 winners, pit your 8 winners against each other in the typical 1v1 tournament style (4 matches), get your 4 winners, etc.

2) Organizing Competitors into Matches

This part is super messy and the actual proper way to do seeding is probably via pre-tournament polling and also by having 1v1 matches, so what I did was the nearest reasonable approximation, given time and effort requirements.

The process: Put all your competitors in a spreadsheet column. Go through the list and bold all the fan favorites, all of the ones you expect to win, etc. Shuffle the column. If the top n(*) competitors look okay for a matchup (ideally, only one bolded name), mark it as (probably) acceptable (I changed the cell colors), and move to the next match. If not, shuffle again. (You'll probably have to do this a lot. However, if just a few of of them are messing up the match, you can move them to the bottom of the match stack and just shuffle them into the remaining competitors.) By the time you get to the bottom, you will very likely have to move things around or break up previously acceptable matches to get the last ones fitting.

(*) n is the target number of competitors in a match.

Note I chose this method specifically because I wanted my own biases to impact the match sorting as little as possible. It's worked out most of the time, sometimes there were fan favorites I completely didn't anticipate. Again, not a perfect system, but it prevents stuff like having Bulbasaur and Eevee in the same round 1 match.

(And sometimes you can't avoid having more than one fan favorite in the same match. In those cases, you want to try your best to pair most-fan-favorites with considerably less fan favorites, but this is also where smaller match sizes do come in handy. 1 5-competitor match allows for 1 fan favorite in 5 competitors, while 2 3-competitor matches allow for 2 fan favorites in 6 competitors... But again it's messy and you can't anticipate everything and sometimes there are a lot of fan favorites.)

(One more thing, Google Sheets does let you randomize a selected range if you right click on it, which can save you time running back and forth between random.org.)

3) Rematches

Personally I think if you want good data in a 3+ competitor winner-take-all kind of situation, you have to run rematches. Say 40% of people like competitor A, 30% of people like competitor B, and the remaining 30% are spread out among competitors C, D, and E. competitor A would win without rematches, but it could very much be the case that of the latter 30% of voters, if their picks were eliminated, only 5% would vote for competitor A, and the remaining 25% would vote for competitor B. That would leave us with 45/55 in B's favor.

Anyway, you can do whatever suits you because running rematches is a little tricky and it requires keeping track of all these extra scattered little polls, but the rules I have for rematches are as follows:

If the winner wins by 50% or more, no rematch.

If the winner is in the lead by 20%, no rematch.

If there are two leading competitor, single rematch.

If there's one leading competitor and two close runner ups, double rematch.

If it looks like it could be a double rematch, but the 2nd place competitor is closer to the first place competitor, it should be a single rematch (and vice versa).

If it looks like it could be a double rematch, the 3rd + 4th + etc place competitors results must be greater than or equal to the 1st place competitor for a double rematch to be held.

4) Scheduling

This one is rather unique to my situation, so I can't really offer too much advice here. Really depending on your voter-base and your access to them, you need to determine if you want to do this long term (slowly releasing the polls) or short term (release them more or less all at once) and if you want to do 1 week polls (requires some extra coordination, especially so that you don't have 1 week gaps between poll drops as you wait for previous round's data to come in) or 1 day polls (easier, but requires your voter base to be more readily available to you).

My very long term approach is based mostly on the fact that the Pokemon community here is very very large and scattered and, starting off, I effectively had 0 way to spread news about the tournament to anyone other than via Blaze. I think if you search scheduling on this blog, you can find the posts that were made when I decided to change the poll schedule, and I did so fairly publicly, so it should be pretty easy to see the structure of this tournament from that.

5) Tournament Summaries/Brackets

Wasn't sure what to call this one but it's basically a, oh no this thing is huge and constantly shifting but people want to kind of get an idea of where we've been and what's coming next, but because it's not a typical 1v1 tournament and also there are hundreds of these guys, I have no idea how to do that.

Which doesn't fit so well in a title lol.

Anyway there are probably a lot better ways of doing this than I did, but I basically just set up a free Neocities site to help keep track of anything. It took me a very long evening to do it, especially since my web dev is super rusty, but it's working out great because it also helps me keep track of everything, because the way I had it set up in my spreadsheet was not super intuitive or easy to see. I doubt anyone wants it, but I am totally willing to share the code behind the site if you all don't know how to get it from just inspecting the page and all. It's pretty clunky though so I'm not advertising it lol.

If I was really smart I'd have all the data in a JSON file and have a JS script just make all the cards that I have in there for me instead of using a separate C++ script (yes, sorry, I use C++ for things like this but that's because I know it better than like Python which would actually probably be the better choice) to generate the cards in HTML which I then paste into the HTML file, but also that would take a lot of time to figure out how to do, and time is not on my side. So.

Anyway. That's most of what I've got organization-wise. I typed this all up on my phone away from my computer so hopefully it's not too messy. I'm not sure if I've provided the info you're looking for or if I've included too much of the information you're not looking for, but I've rarely been accused of not being thorough at least 😭

If you have more questions, feel free to drop me an ask off anon and I'll send you a DM from my main! Otherwise, best of luck!!

[masseffectdoctor]

Tagged by a new mutual @vladimirpootietang

1. are you named after anyone?: Not as far as I'm aware. First and LAST of my name.

2. when was the last time you cried?: I'm like physically incapable of crying. Think the last time I cried was a few months back during some really really bad times.

3. do you have kids?: nah, but when I squat in a house till it's legally mine catch me adopting as far away from an agency as humanly possible.

4. do you use sarcasm a lot?: I am a sarcastic asshole. Like yeah I know how to behave, but sometimes motherfuckers just need to get snarked

5. what sports do you play/have played?: I did a good few here and there. Mainly when I was a kid, I was in wrestling in high school though. After I fucked up my knees though I can't really do sports anymore

6. what’s the first thing you notice about people?: It depends on the person, usually their tone or their eyes. General body language maybe?

7. scary movies or happy endings?: Little from column A little from column B

8. any special talents?: I'm told I have a silver tongue. I'm a pretty personable guy when I want to be. I've always somehow managed to be the guy who knows a guy, or be the guy who knows how to get that thing that you want/need.

9. where were you born?: What are you a cop?

10. what are your hobbies?: Gaming Mostly. I like to write and read. I spend a lot of my free time either veging out, or doing activism.

11. do you have any pets?: I sure do! Two mutts, a little cat, and a snake. More to come in the future.

12. how tall are you?: 6'2"

13. favorite subject in school?: I didn't really like any subjects in school. In college I kind of just bounced around a lot. I like humanities and things to do with like film and video games and stuff.

14. your dream job?: I've had a few dream jobs, but I don't necessarily like to dream of labor. I like to think of things I'd be okay with doing and capable of That would benefit the community I live in. In an ideal world I don't have to be compensated for it

15. Eye color?: Brown

@strawbebbynya @deadasdisco @indig-queer @blitchen @zombiebrainsoup

[coconut-window]

One Last Moment: An Exploration Of Surrealism And Dissonance

Fall like snow

Ye deathless metal.

Burn, like embers

Above the sea.

You take and

Steal a swift

God’s golden helm,

Believing the devil’s

Last words can

Delay the inevitable.

You are free

Within a prison,

Sweet nectar raining

Disease and rot

That can never

Manage to stick.

Praise and praise

And praise and

Love are handed

To you, who

Did not ask

For and does

Not deserve kindness.

Fall like snow,

Ye deathless metal,

And rise from

The ashes of

Your merciful cruelty.

-------------------------------------

Fall like snow

Upon shards of glass

Ever-reflecting, forever-revealing

Your flaws, your hate, the lies

You want escape, a drug born of isolation

Look away from me

Your eyes, full of sorrow, of silence

Your mouth, empty of those three words

Forever-scarring, forever-forbidden

How dare you

How dare you

How dare you

How dare you

What gave you the right

To steal me from myself?

To take away my beloved moon

And leave a rotten heart in its place?

Your wings unfurl, cloaking the last day

In shadow and stars

Is that night enough for you?

Or do you want more than my false cathedral,

Constructed from barnyard animals and words

I almost said

Fall like snow

Upon shards of the ocean-sky

And bleed yourself back into

The veins that birthed the corpse

You call paradise

-----------------------------------------

This Poem Is About A Person

i am the sand above the desert

that cuts the skin of the careless.

the season turns, spins, dances

until the leaves drift softly past the lovers.

an empty field, shrouded by the stars,

lies next to a river that flows into a drain.

a question is asked, below the silence

of the blizzard blowing by.

the answer is found, delivered by a rat

kept warm by the snow.

reality collides, then another, another

the laughter flows across the sea

those three words ring hollow still.

the ice melts, the world splits open.

we begin, you and i, at first equals

but the seasons shift and the ice

refreezes, and i am once again made real.

-------------------------------------------

The Swift god sells apples in an empty jungle

An antiThesis containing itself

The moon roars across an entangled economy

Spices raining down from an infernal sky

Can those three words ever be said?

An antithesis negating itSelf

Clementines sprawl across a euphoric nightmare

An antithesis constructing reality

A marble column sinks into a silver coins

Reflections of the deep-ocean floor revealed

A spilling of blood, unforgivable

A spilling of blood, irrevocable

A spilling of blood, unbreakable

How many apples will you buy?

How much is reality worth?

An antithesis becoming itSelf

---------------------------------------------

a race against the clock

some run, others crawl

some don't seem to move at all

a majesty, green brilliance seeping down

to push and shove and provide a trail

to give guidance to those who

cannot be lost

a tower of black gold, forever-rising

a checkpoint to reach,

an infliction to avoid

an ideal made unreal by the

various storms and stories that

steal away with dreams and spiders

a garden of void, eternal oblivion

a nothingness that envelopes and

from which only one can exist

only one that is real

within the moments, within the silence

within the space within the space between

the ordered chaos, the sunless amnesia

you sigh, and speak

words that were never yours

spun together, interwoven with words

i could never say

are you the gardener?

the lone caretaker of the lone flower

in the lone garden at the snake's mouth

a fruitless endeavor, you must agree

a waste of time, you must surely believe

how could anything born of this

never-rotten hell grow and live,

you must be thinking

but you have already won.

--------------------------------------------

Would you like to step through?

Through the forest, the blind mirror

That sings a lullaby, a sleeping child

Counting and dreaming, dreaming

Of a world where the trees are real

And the stars burn like embers

In a sky of the blackest blue

Of a world where she belongs

In a village that erases his lines

And takes away her vision

And lets him see the clouds

And lets her feel the red beneath

His skin, a prison of paralysis

She begs and begs but no sound leaves

His mind, a prison of paralysis

The cool air swims across her

Face, the ocean below his

Body rises, and rises

And the fire begins to kindle

And the village is no more

And the sky is no more

And the stars are no more

And the forest is no more

And the mirror is no more

And the child can no longer dream.

-----------------------------------------

An Inquiry Into The Nature Of The Three Sisters That Sleep Underneath Reality

How can you be so kind?

Laughter leaves your mouth like a plague,

A solemn distance between you and those

Who no longer know fear.

Do you weep?

When the children take up your impossible burden,

The weight dragging them down into tragedy.

Did you laugh?

Your light at last radiating in the darkness,

Your sin made perfection manifest.

Do you hate them?

The raindrops form your tears,

Stolen by lightning and oil.

What’s your favorite color?

The sky shines with red brilliance

That you will never again see.

Does the ocean hurt you?

The sharp rocks writhe at your touch,

The still tides in turmoil as you simply

Reveal the truth.

Do you miss the snow?

The cool breeze descends the

Mountain slope, a lonely freedom.

Do you enjoy it?

Your eyes shine a shade of

Infinite blue, your gaze directed

At the eternal lie.

Do you love us?

Our fragile lives dependent on

Your touch, a prison of paralysis.

--------------------------------------------

i am here.

there are 4 walls around me,

within them a room.

the room begins to fill

and now you are here with me.

but you are not me

and there are 7 lines between us.

you stand opposite of me,

a world away.

now there is a floor, something

to move on.

i take a step towards you,

but there is a line.

you laugh, unable to see the lines.

i ask you a question, you answer.

the line is now gone

i take another step.

the trees howl, aware of what i dont know.

i silence them, the wild beast no

longer cries.

the king with seven rings now stands

tall, the next line.

he tells me a word, but i cannot touch it.

another line breaks.

i take another step.

there is no line. i take another step.

there is no line. i take another step.

there is a line. i cannot take another step.

i cannot see this line, but i can see you.

you cannot see me, but you can see her.

i cut her hair.

she did not want this.

i watch her cry.

another line breaks.

you smile

a sharp smile

a smile of reason and lines.

you understand, but you do not know.

you do not see her cry.

she is no more.

i did not see that.

i take a step back.

the line does not break.

boxes of light push me forwards.

the red one tells me i cannot swim back,

my path chosen for me, a path that

leads to you.

i trust the red light, and i take a step forward.

thorns grow out of your drink,

bringing you luck and honey.

i let you drink it, and another line breaks.

the floor melts away, an ocean in its place.

i must swim now, swim through a summer

day, dots of light guide me through the tides.

i can no longer see you, but you see me.

you watch, and offer to help, but you do

not know.

i turn away, and another line breaks.

the floor returns. i take a step.

there are no more lines between us.

there are three of you, spectres.

you each say a word, the one i cannot

touch.

you return to one, one part of one whole.

you drift, i do not know where.

i decide to join you, unable to stand.

there are no more lines.

is this what i wanted?

no, it is simply the path.

but the path is no more.

am i free?

i ask the red light, but i am answered

by the blue box.

the red light is no more, it tells me.

but i cannot rest now.

the blue light is no more.

you touch me, finally knowing the truth.

and the 4 walls fall away.

---------------------------------------------

the wind dances in the air,

the sunlight its eternal partner.

the grass carries across it a

thousand ants, the ants carry

our crumbs. we made such a mess

that day, a moment i hope you never

forget.

i can still hear your laugh, your

smile still reflected in my eyes.

i couldn’t move my gaze off of

you, in that moment i understood

beauty. joy radiated from your

gray-green eyes, my dumb joke

somehow its cause.

my silence was a challenge to you,

my stubbornness an appeal.

you wanted me to be happy,

to see the world through eyes

that were not my own.

i’m sorry i could not give that

to you. i’m sorry i lied.

all i have are moments, those

beautiful moments i share with

you.

i do not love you. i wish i did.

oh, what pretty little lovebirds

we would make,

your mind a mirror of my own.

you could show me the wonders

of this world, and i could show you

the gems hidden deep within

the depths of the abyss.

it would break my heart if you

forgot that day. the miles we walked,

the jokes we shared, the rain we ran

through.

they have a permanence you do not,

a solidity we can never achieve.

i never truly knew you, and you

could never decipher me.

i was a challenge to you,

nothing more than a problem.

i suppose it was only fair.

you deserve so much more than me.

goodbye

--------------------------------------

Prolegomena To Any Future Exploration Of The Essential Characteristics Of The Soul, More Commonly Referred To As The True Self Which Is Separate From And Normatively Higher Than The Physical Self That Acts As The Primary Vessel Of Sensation

there is a bird in the sky.

i shoot the bird.

it is dead now.

the world continues.

----------------------------------------

Oh, my beloved

is the world too much for you?

are the days too heavy for your shoulders?

are the others unlike you?

an unbridgeable chasm, an ocean

of hell and fire, pale blue isolation

imagine that Manhattan is made out of pizza

a city of cheese and bread and pretty red

sauce mixed in with all your favorite

toppings

maybe that will turn your blue into a

soft green, or perhaps a yellow-white

which do you prefer?

the real or the absurd?

the truth or unreality?

of course, we all know what you wont

accept

we all can see you, we all can hear the lies

you tell yourself

the world you live in is not real, the world

you accept is not too much for you

rather, you are too much for the world

weeping on top of a tower, not of valuable ivory but of moss-riddled cobblestone

a hell you constructed when you were young,

a broken child, weak and afraid, just like

everyone else

you needed protection, you wanted escape

so you built yourself a maze of fantasy, every detail refined to perfection

every day, you ventured further and farther into your labyrinth, the reality of your true self too much for you to handle

it kept you safe, gave you an illusion of control, of superiority, of awesome power

power to hurt those who hurt you, power

to burn away everything that stung your soft, beating heart

but you are no longer a child, no longer do you need safety

so the fantasy rejected you, your lovely labyrinth twisting into a tower

you were given a choice, power or weakness

courage or cowardice

heroism or villainy

you chose wrong, and atop that tower you now weep

weep, for the love you will never know

weep, for the family you can never have

weep, for everything that was taken from you

but nothing was taken

nothing was lost

you chose wrong, and now you have nothing but your fantasy

oh, my poor, ignorant beloved

you believe no one loves you, not truly

not in a way that matters

yet even so, i love you still

the misery of your fantasy is exquisite,

so focused, so brittle, so absolute,

an iron-clad grip on your pretty throat

how could anything other a god create

something so beautiful?

yes, that is what you are

a god, a weak god, a pitiful god

a god who chose wrong, and now must

burn underneath an ocean of pale-blue

isolation

would you like to know the most perfect part of your little prison?

the real reason i love you so?

it is the open door, wide and ever so enticing

it waits for you, begging you to leave

to accept reality, to join the others

but you do not see them, nor the door

all you see is that illusion, of power, of superiority

so you hold on to it, desperate to stay in your unreality

a prison with an open door,

a prison that begs you to leave

and you, the creator and the prisoner

a lovely dissonance, such flavorful irony

how could anyone not love you?

how are you so blind?

oh, my beloved

imagine that Manhattan is made out of pizza

construct a new fantasy, let go of the pathetic child you used to be

and perhaps you can escape your prison

and perhaps you can step through that open door

accept the truth, enter reality, chose to be the courageous hero you pretend to be

i know you will not, i know you can not

perhaps i too live in a fantasy,

a fantasy of hope, of a twisted truth

but i do not weep in my fantasy

it does not hurt me as yours does

i laugh atop my tower, i love and i cry

sweet tears, beautiful tears,

but i do not weep as you do

oh, my beloved

how could you possibly understand my love?

you see it as pity, as contempt,

as violence and war

if only you knew

how much i love you,

your tears, your prison, your broken fantasy

i want you to be real, to be free, to finally begin to smile

oh, my beloved

my beautiful beloved, for whom the world is too much

my beautiful beloved, for whom the days are too heavy

my beautiful beloved, unlike all the rest

my beautiful beloved, for whom i wish only freedom

may you one day find happiness.

-----------------------------------------

You goddamn diva.

You are not a god, my darling beloved.

You are less than worthless.

We must imagine Sisyphus happy,

You say.

But you are not Sisyphus. You are the stone.

Not the puppetmaster but a simple

Marionette, holding its own strings.

Twisting itself into something that matters,

Weeping a fantasy of its own importance.

No, you are not the stone.

You are just a pebble, nothing more than

An object to be stepped on by the great.

Your delusion will let you do nothing else,

reveling in your isolation,

Never more than a stone's throw away

From the dancing stars,

Living underneath a sky of blackest-blue.

I love you,

But you do not deserve those three words.

I can never say them, not to you.

I am sorry,

For the hell you must live in.

Please forgive me,

for the web you think I spun around you.

You say they are just words,

words within words within words within a Smile.

Your smile, I will never forget it.

I love you,

And I truly hope you one day find the Happiness you dance around, but

Please, just leave.

--------------------------------------------

do you still dream?

of that white christmas we spent together,

huddled up next to that fireplace, drinking the overly-sweet hot chocolate i made?

do you still cherish that memory?

oh, my beloved

the memories we dance through are

hope, the loves we lose as the green brilliance burns us away

oh, my beloved

i dreamt you sang a song long ago

a silver song

will you sing it once again?

you insist on stillness

on static and decay

so i will not ask you to dance with me

(you were never particularly good at it anyways)

but from atop your tree, from within your nest you must sing

and perhaps you can begin to listen

listen to the wind within the air

listen to the colors within the rain

listen to the words not spoken within the minds of others

you say you will not speak

but the words are not yours to say

they are mine, and i gift them to you

you have already won, victory eternal lies naked on the palm of your hand

close your fists, accept my gift

and perhaps you will finally be able to hear your own words

words within words within words within a smile

your smile used to shine, far more brilliant than that empty garden

but you smile no more

i will forget your smile one day

or perhaps it will be a night

i hope it will be a dark and stormy one

you never did understand, did you?

always getting carried away by that swift god

(you dont even like apples, dumbass)

those three words haunt you

spectres of a spectre, never quite there

but always by your side

one day, you will touch them

one day, you will find perfection

but in the meantime, i will be here

at the edge of your reach

i will not leave you

not again

i will join you atop your tower of cobblestone

and together we shall weep

you, for the world

and i, for you

---------------------------------------------

Your nails have gotten quite long,

Haven't they?

Once again, yet again

Always and forever.

Can you not see yourself?

Can you not hear your music?

We used to sing together,

Dance together,

Create worlds together.

You, on your piano

And I, on my violin.

Would you like to play again?

Do you still remember that song?

The one that felt like enough?

Why that song,

I always wondered.

Nothing else was enough for you.

I gave you my moon,

My words,

My eyes,

But you kept wanting more.

For the longest time, I wanted

To be that song, for you to love me

As I loved you.

We were children back then,

Too young to understand ourselves

And then there was you,

For whom every action was effortless

For whom every word flowed like water

For whom the sky was nothing but stars.

A walking contradiction,

An enigma with physical form.

How could anyone not love you,

I used to wonder.

We were children back then,

But we are no longer young.

The seasons shifted and the ice

Refroze, and I now know the

Answer to my question.

Those three words,

The riddle solved at last.

Perhaps one day we will

Return to our childhood selves,

The naive gods we used to be.

But until then,

I will shed no more tears for you.

-----------------------------------------

[jonathankatwhatever]

The hard to say part is the reluctance to say the big idea, the unifying conception, is 1Space. I start to type a sentence like that and I feel the impulse coursing through me, but then I have to type the word 1Space and I am let down because it just doesn’t seem big enough a label for the occasion. But 1Space is every form of OneSpace, of identity which enables all identities within it, which acts as the boundary of our Dimensional Enclosure. It is our grid square, every iteration of every grid square.

Now I remember: when I was walking, I realized that the SBE treatment which generated K-forms is the same as the old 2step to count along the szK, the same as counting by Bricks which overlap so the identity shifts rows or columns. This was also part of the discussion about gs parallels, which has now expanded to include the concept of edges and thus of the 1Space relationship which is general or non-local versus the specific or local gs processes at the examined scale or Extent. Real fluency.

It’s very difficult for me to write about my feelings because they never seem fully honest when I try to put them into words. My feelings for you predate words. They’re more fundamental. The closest would be a holy blood oath, as you know. So when I start to think about you honestly, I find you and I start to think that maybe I don’t need to say this because you already know what I mean.

Must accept the reality of communication from above creating a Triangular which has pulled together the 1Space. Not sure what that draws as. I’m seeing a K-form with the legs of the K encountering information being pushed at them D4-3, meaning that a connection generates between the Ends of the legs of the K, as the information pushed at them organizes and orders. This makes a loop which crosses the physical 0Space and the 1Space external to the 0Space. That’s the first real statement of how this works! It uses the same ideas, same f&b, same edges, same 1-0-1, same everything. The change is that 1Space now clearly encloses 0Space. This translates into a whole bunch of drawings, so many I couldn’t keep track. I saw an arc boundary, the flipping of points over a 1Segment in Triangular, a diamond across Between, meaning an fD and that becoming a gs.

Maybe I can get this out. I’m seeing that a gs always encloses an rs, because it fits over the possibilities and thus covers the potential generated in and out of its current state. That last is Conformity, which becomes PIPE, which works because you can run water through it or suck on it to blow your mind, in its variations. And it makes a loop, which explains the metaphor. I never got that before: putting in the water that comes out. No wonder men started seeing themselves as life and the woman as a vessel. We take for granted that there are chromosomes and that you have DNA from both biological parents. I suppose in the future, when they can edit bad genes out, and thus perhaps edit good genes in, then you could have more than 2 biological parents.

I got lost because it’s feels very deep to discover a sexual connection so deep in the work. It is a sexual connection.

Why do I doubt my strong feelings? My mind takes flight when romantic, sexual, physical, abstract play begins. They’re the same intimacy.

Back to the last big idea: a gs encloses an rs means that you can have probability over coin tosses or more complicated threads of outcomes without being explicitly visible even when the fit is seemingly perfect. That is, you can toss a coin and have it come up in some order until the ratio settles at 50-50, so there’s the ideal and the momentary or local. Seemingly perfect means the ratio may be perfect now, but it will not always be perfect if you keep tossing coins. That is, local can coincide with the ideal but that’s a local to general match, not a match across all the localities to the general. The localities are 0Space, and 0Space can coincide with 1Space, as anyone who has ever felt truly in the moment knows, but it can’t last or it would be 1Space.

That is how amplitude spaces work. More specifically, they’re defined as the Dimensional Enclosure generated by the the folding of K-legs as Extents, meaning they make and sustain 1Space, which is the identity space that enacts within the DE. The DE acts as the boundary, meaning it presents an edge to the interior. The interior edge consists of Ends connected by 1-0Segments, and because of the Informational Limit, these organize events within the DE at scale. This also obviously scales amplitude spaces. And underlying all that is the same InjT proces by which value is injected into each grid square.

This is the best present I can give you. It’s not perfect. There are many more things I would like to say, but this is the best present I can give you. I’ve put my whole life into it.

[sundayswiththeilluminati]

The unplanned fourth part to my apparently-a-series on Essek Thelyss in the context of real-world espionage (parts 1, 2, and 3), today we look at an aspect of his story that doesn’t always apply in a D&D world: how do you prosecute espionage? 

Psych! That’s not the real question. The real question is: do you prosecute espionage? The answer is a) not as obvious as it might seem; and b) going to differ between D&D and the real world, because D&D governments are storytelling tools and IRL governments are...not.

The benefits of prosecuting espionage are obvious: the interests of justice are served, the person responsible can be punished appropriately and in accordance with the law, the full extent of their crimes are revealed (including potentially exonerating other suspects), counterintelligence gets to chalk up a win, and other people thinking about committing espionage themselves are hopefully discouraged. But there are a surprising number of arguments in the “against” column.

Some agencies that identify enemy assets want to leave them in place for their own purposes. For about 20 years during the Cold War CIA reserved the right to just plain not tell the Department of Justice if they had proof someone was engaged in espionage because they wanted the opportunity to turn them as double agents, feed them misinformation, etc. rather than outing and punishing them (President Gerald Ford ended this arrangement by executive order in 1976). This isn’t necessarily a good idea IRL, but it forms the bread and butter of RPG espionage storylines and is definitely something to think about in a D&D context.

In the real world, ideally someone can only be found guilty of a crime and punished accordingly after a trial, and an agency often finds itself with sufficient evidence to doubt a person’s trustworthiness but not enough hard proof to take to court. In those cases agencies may decide to leave that person in place but cut off their access to classified info. Ironically, sometimes this means promoting them - moving the person into a higher-ranking job in a different area that just so happens not to deal in secrets. Sometimes the asset realizes they’re close to being rumbled and goes along with the effort, maybe taking retirement early or changing jobs before they can be pushed, and the whole matter will quietly lapse without anything so formal as a trial. Sometimes someone makes a mistake and sidelines a loyal, competent employee. That’s a judgement call.

In the real world, ideally someone can only be found guilty of a crime and punished accordingly after an open trial. Given how severe the punishments are for espionage, civilized countries do try to stick to that even though holding such a trial carries risks. Providing proof that someone stole secrets generally requires talking about said secrets, which means revealing classified info in court, which may negate trying to keep the information secret in the first place. They may also not want to reveal in court how they figured out that person was a spy, especially if it was a double agent or cryptographic source that fingered them. In D&D-land where monarchs are common and still wield judicial power, fantasy rulers may hand down whatever punishment they please based on whatever evidence they (or the DM) will accept, so this isn’t as much of a concern.

Even a D&D monarchy that doesn’t have to worry about revealing secrets in court might think twice before publicly punishing a high-ranking spy, though, because the only thing more embarrassing than failing to convict a major spy is succeeding. A government having to admit that its people were compromised, especially high-ranking people, is a body-blow to its standing both at home and abroad. It damages trust in the government, makes the public feel unsafe, and makes allies hesitant to share information lest their secrets be leaked as well. Lower-ranking government employees may think, “My boss is selling secrets, why not me too?” or “Why bother to follow security protocol when some mole will give it all away?” Every decision and contribution made by the asset becomes retroactively suspect, even those that had nothing to do with whatever secrets they leaked. The foreign nation to whom they passed information inevitably gets drawn in as well, negatively affecting those relations. And of course everyone involved looks very, very bad.

All of which leads me to say I think there’s a chance - maybe not a good chance, but a chance - that Essek could privately confess the affair to the Bright Queen without major public repercussions. Leylas Kryn could simply declare him a traitor and order his public execution without justifying herself, but it would raise a lot of questions and none of the answers would help her or the ruling dens; Den Thelyss allowing Den Kryn to unilaterally execute a high-profile member - a child of the umavi - without explanation would stoke ferocious rumors about what Essek might have done and cast a major shadow over the entire den. But publicly declaring what Essek had done also doesn’t do the Dynasty any favors. It makes everyone involved look very bad - how could they miss a spy at the highest level? so close to the Bright Queen herself?? who can be trusted??? - especially Den Thelyss, which might lose its place among the ruling three as a result. Publicly outing such a high-ranking Kryn official as compromised might set off the Dynasty equivalent of a Red Scare, too, since the Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount mentions the constant and well-justified Dynasty fear of agents sent by Lolth to destabilize the Kryn out of sheer spite that they got away from her.

By the time Campaign 2 ended the latest clash between Empire and Dynasty had been settled and neither side seemed to want to stir it up again right away. The fact that both stolen beacons have been returned also bolsters the case for letting the matter lie. A confession from Essek clears up remaining doubt on the Bright Queen’s end - while he doesn’t know every Empire agent in the Dynasty, he can tell her exactly how the beacons were stolen and who else was involved, probably clearing the names of many currently under suspicion. Essek would have to resign as Shadowhand, of course, and leave the Dynasty (at least for a couple centuries), but he never seemed interested in being Shadowhand and he wants to go exploring anyway. Den Thelyss definitely wants the whole affair swept under the rug and would go along with whatever story made that happen. Other than Verin I don’t get the impression many people would miss Essek except as a lost opportunity. I hope they’d give him long enough before leaving Rosohna to pack up his cool leyline-weathervane though. He could totally mount that on Yussa’s tower. Or Allura’s!

And that concludes this particular train of thought re: Essek Thelyss in the context of IRL spies and espionage. Again, all of this is only as relevant to the campaign as the players decide it is, so don’t go giving people crap for being “unrealistic” about their versions of how the beacon trade went down. Frankly the last thing you should want here is realism, because “realistic” espionage is a callous world of deception, manipulation, and general human pettiness with no sense of narrative flow.

None of what I’ve talked about is an excuse for Essek’s actions. But it is a reason. It’s why and how a person entrusted with precious national assets could get into a headspace where it seems reasonable, even necessary, to trade them away to foreign enemies. It’s how a person of otherwise decent character & beliefs can end up committing terrible crimes. It’s why that person might sincerely regret what they’ve done, and not just because they fear punishment. The Warmind Rasputin paraphrases Octavia E. Butler saying, “Misdirected by accident or intent, intelligence can foster its own ecstasies of growth and decay.” In other words: sometimes you get too far into your own head. Without an anchor to reality, without perspective, your own mind gets twisted up. Sometimes you just need a friend (or seven) to grab your arm and say, “Breathe.”

(This accidentally turned into a series on Essek & IRL espionage: Parts 1, 2, 3, 4)

[random-thought-depository]

Tangent from my last post: reading over this and thinking about it, I’ve pinpointed a disagreement that I think reveals a fundamental disagreement I have with the ideas I was responding to there.

Seph’s essay talks about liberal sexual consent practices as requiring a shift toward a more Culture A style of social interaction; requiring a willingness to actively assert your own interests instead of engaging in Culture B accommodationism. And that’s true, but I immediately recognized that it’s incomplete in a way that I think fundamentally distorts what’s happening, though it took me a while to think out exactly how. Saying “no” involves a degree of Culture A type assertiveness, but respecting that “no” and pro-actively making sure your partner is enjoying things involves an attentiveness to feelings, an accommodationism, and an attentiveness to maintaining harmony that’s more Culture B.

Like, if you drew up two columns, one labeled “Macho Republican Dad Boomerpost Stuff” and one labeled “Softy SJW Stuff,” and started sorting things into those columns by which group they’re more stereotypically associated with (bacon, guns, capitalism, Christianity, complaining about “cancel culture,” and calling people sissies as an insult into the Republican Dad column, tofu, queerness, feminism, socialism, veganism, accusing people of microaggressions, and being a Wiccan into the SJW column, etc.), I think liberal sexual norms placing a high premium on explicit consent would definitely stereotypically belong in the “SJW” column. And in this context I think that’s revealing.

I think what’s happening here is fundamentally orthogonal to Culture A vs. Culture B. I think, like a lot of left vs. right divides, it fundamentally comes down to hierarchy vs. egalitarianism. Liberal sexual norms emphasizing consent are a rejection of the pecking order method of simply resolving sexual conflicts of interests in favor of the person with more power, whether that power is social status, physical strength, emotional intelligence, or just being more willing to press for their interests. Culture A vs. Culture B is fundamentally orthogonal to what’s really going on here; trying to understanding this issue through that lens is at best like trying to understand the US Civil War through the lens of doctrinal disputes between different types of Christianity (you may get some genuine insights, but you’ve mistaken the fringes of the conflict for its core), and at worst like trying to understand the US Civil War through the lens of doctrinal disputes between Sunni and Shia Islam.

Actually I think the “trying to understand the US Civil War through the lens of Christian doctrine disputes” may be a good analogy, because I think this does tie back to the “the left/liberal side of the culture war is waging a war against Culture A” hypothesis in a way that reveals how that idea is not exactly wrong but misses an important dimension of what’s happening. I think what’s happening is that hierarchy is more explicit and explicitly enforced in Culture A, and therefore as society becomes less like a pecking order hierarchy tends to assume Culture B characteristics.

Culture A is where you find the human hierarchies that look the most like actual pecking orders, which are maintained by literal physical pecking. It’s where you find the openly brutal world of bosses screaming “the leads aren’t weak, you are!” into a cringing subordinate’s face, cops quietly taking an uncooperative suspect into a convenient alley and roughing him up a little to “teach him to respect our authority,” gangsters beating somebody up for being insufficiently deferential to them, some 6′3 250 pound guy in the grips of road rage punching some 5′7 150 pound guy in the face over a smashed bumper, teachers disciplining students by giving them hard blows on the palm with a ruler, a swaggering thug threatening a woman with physical violence because she had the effrontery to object to him groping her, and jocks having some fun inflicting casual physical abuse on the nerds in the locker room and on the playground. Hierarchies in Culture A are often maintained by physical violence and the threat thereof and put-downs and other explicit verbal bullying. When somebody in Culture A thinks you’ve gotten a bit above your station and wants to put your in your place, they’re likely to either actually use physical violence against you, explicitly threaten you with it, or explicitly insult you. Abuse in Culture A tends to look like our stereotypical picture of some swaggering thug openly terrorizing somebody who has some sort of vulnerability.

By contrast, hierarchies in Culture B tend to operate under more polite fictions of relative egalitarianism, cooperativeness, and non-violence. Enforcement of Culture B hierarchies tends to be less overtly violent. Culture B hierarchies are more likely to be covert and legible only to somebody with inside knowledge (e.g. you’ve ostensibly got a group of equals, but some are more equal than others because of advantages that mostly aren’t explicitly acknowledged). Culture B tends to have more of an ideal that coercive power can only be legitimately exercised for moral reasons, while Culture A tends to have more of a “master morality” culture where power is seen as worthy of respect in itself (Culture A is what gave us “Chad” and “alpha” as aspirational ideals), which is why bullying in Culture B tends to have a moralistic and fearmongering nature (see: Tumblr call-out posts) while bullying in Culture A tends to follow a more “master morality” logic of “our victim is weak and aesthetically displeasing to us, and that in itself makes them deserve punishment” - though much like “Culture A rewards strength and technical skills, Culture B rewards social skills and popularity” that’s a dichotomy that can easily be overplayed; most human hierarchies come with a hefty dose of community-minded moralism (even if the community is a pirate ship or criminal gang or something like that), and social skills and popularity are hugely important in almost any culture. Culture B is for people who wouldn’t dream of doing anything so barbaric as yelling at you or punching you because they’re mad at you; they’d complain to the human resources department who’d force you to spend a Friday evening listening to somebody lecture you about the need to “make our store a welcoming environment for our valued customers.”

An archetypal abusive Culture A authority figure is the macho thuggish “respect mah authoritay!” cop. An archetypal abusive Culture B authority figure is the gaslighty Nice Lady Therapist. The former is more-or-less open about the fact that he sees himself as above you in the pecking order and if you dispute that he’ll be delighted to enforce the pecking order in approximately the way chickens do it. The latter pretends to be your friend (and perhaps believes themselves to be that), and expends a great deal of effort tailoring their pecking order enforcement to not look like pecking order enforcement - significantly, they might like to be as openly brutal as the “respect mah authoritay!” cop is, but in strong Culture B that social strategy just doesn’t work; their social strategy represents a compromise with socially influential ideals of egalitarianism and non-violence, a tribute that vice pays to virtue (less charitably, it may simply reflect playing to different strengths and trying to minimize different weaknesses, e.g. the thuggish cop may have chosen that social strategy because he’s a physically powerful but not particularly socially intelligent Biff Tannen type, while the Nice Lady Therapist may have chosen that social strategy because she’s a socially intelligent and Machiavellian but physically feeble 4′10 woman).

In short, Culture B tends to both meaningfully soften the blows of pecking order enforcement and obfuscate them. It follows that as equalizing movements gain ground and explicit pecking order logic becomes more taboo, hierarchy will increasingly take on Culture B characteristics. In 1700, if you angered your boss in some petty interpersonal way he might have whipped you, which was his right as your master. Today, if you anger your boss in some petty interpersonal way she might think a little about how to get revenge on you in a way that doesn’t risk blowback if you take it up with the union, and then find some excuse to arrange for you to have to attend some mandatory HR remedial training that isn’t officially a punishment but let’s be real, totally is. Maybe in 2200 you won’t have a boss because you’ll work in an officially egalitarian syndicalist union, but there will be some union members who are “more equal than others” because of personal connections or charisma or some combination of both, and if you anger one of them in a petty interpersonal way they might through whisper networks arrange a quiet campaign to make sure the union votes against your requests for your favorite foods on the workplace lunch menu.

I guess I’m staking out a position as a hedging kind-of partisan of Culture B here. There’s a lot of talk about how Culture B gets an undeserved good reputation and can be just as unfair and cruel as Culture A but in a more insidious way, and I’m sympathetic to that and I think there’s a lot of truth to that, but, y’know, if I had to choose between pecking order enforcement that has to maintain a plausible veneer of being something else and just open undiluted sadistic pecking order enforcement, I think I’d prefer the former. I think even just adding in a requirement of hypocrisy improves things, because it forces pecking order enforcement to optimize for plausible deniability instead of sadism and effective tyranny. Admittedly, as somebody who finds this very relatable I have a strong personal bias here.

An illustrative personal anecdote: the usual stereotype of high school is that bullied kids (or at least bullied boys) suffer a lot of casual physical abuse, but I noticed that in my school there was a lot of verbal bullying but mercifully little physical abuse; the worst that was likely to happen in terms of physical violence was somebody tripping you up or throwing a box of kleenix at you or spitting their drink at you or something like that. I suspect the reason was that blatant physical violence was pretty much the only form of bullying the school administration would reliably punish (though they’d likely punish the victim right along with the perpetrator), and that’s why it usually wasn’t done. I suspect what happened is that stereotype of chronic casual physical abuse reflects what schools were like when the baby boomers were growing up (and boomers then wrote fiction etc. that reflected that experience that shaped the pop culture stereotype), but then anti-bullying reforms came along and by the late ‘90s and early ‘00s they’d achieved one great success: mostly eliminating that schoolyard culture of casual physical violence. And that was a very incomplete fix, just addressing the tip of the iceberg of the problem and probably often redirecting bullying into psychological abuse rather than actually reducing it... but, y’know, I’m really glad my middle and high school experience didn’t conform to that pop culture stereotype of the school dweeb getting regularly beaten up by four or six bigger kids. I had an awful time in middle and high school, but judging from pop culture stereotypes it could have been so much worse, and if suspensions for kids who punched other kids is what created that difference, then I’m profoundly grateful for that reform.

I think the left is kinda-sorta waging war on Culture A as a side-effect of its war on pecking order culture, in which high-status people enjoy the advantages of Culture A while low-status people labor under the disadvantages of Culture B. It’s not an accident that Culture A is associated with men and Culture B is associated with women. Accommodation (sometimes to the point of self-harm) is a survival strategy for low-status people in a social structure that resembles a pecking order; if you’re going to lose the fight, it often makes sense to pre-emptively accept a settlement that favors the interests of the stronger person (often to the extent of trying to anticipate the stronger person’s wants, performing even the brain work of figuring out their preferences for them). Competitiveness is a social strategy for upward mobility in a pecking order society or defense of a place near the top of the pecking order (it also has more pro-social functions so we probably want to keep it around in some form, but social competition is very much part of its function). Women tend to be reluctant to openly advocate for their personal interests because for much of history a woman openly advocating for her personal interests was likely to provoke status-guarding retaliation from men. Men tend to be reluctant to show vulnerability and see doing so as feminine because for much of history other men were likely to perceive a vulnerable man as an opportunity to increase their own social status by lowering the vulnerable man’s social status, and as a rule of thumb to lower a man’s social status was to give him a social status more like a woman’s. In the context of a pecking order society, a lot of Culture B makes sense as social strategies for people at the bottom of the pecking order with little realistic shot of escaping its lower levels, and a lot of Culture A makes sense as social strategies for people at the top of the pecking order and people at the bottom or middle of the pecking order who have a realistic shot at using high-risk high-reward social strategies to move up in the hierarchy. I think there’s some complicating factors around reproductive dynamics that explain why this is a gendered thing instead of just a class thing, but I won’t get into that here. So it makes sense that as society becomes less like a pecking order that process will involve shifts toward Culture A in some areas and shifts toward Culture B in other areas, because those cultures are probably both somewhat maladaptive in a more egalitarian social context.

A relevant example is that for much of history vigorously advocating their own sexual interests was often very risky for women, so Culture B primes women to pre-emptively accept a settlement that favors the man’s sexual interests, so liberal consent norms work better if women develop more assertiveness about their own interests, which looks kind of Culture A-ish. At the same time, women now have more leverage to effectively demand that men perform pro-social Culture B behaviors of accommodation, empathy, and consideration for the feelings and interests of others in the context of heterosexual sex.

----------

Tangential aside: I think thinking of hierarchy as the fundamental tension point of the left vs. right conflict illustrates a way that post I was responding to might be kind of too meta and you might get an illuminating perspective by stepping back from all that meta-level theorizing about fundamental epistemological differences and looking at the object level.

If you analyze left-wing “cancel culture” at the object level, what does it look like it’s trying to do? It seems to me that it’s trying to lower the social acceptability of what leftists perceive as defenses of hierarchy. Who are the stereotypical targets of campus “cancel culture”? They might be a “race realist” who’s very eager to tell you about how he thinks certain human groups have lower IQs or other congenital traits maladaptive to modern society and darkly hint about political implications. They might be a business libertarian economist who wants to stump for the gospel of the free market. They might be somebody who has a habit of delivering the academic equivalent of boomerposts about kids these days with their coddling and their trigger warnings and their genders. They might be some principled “free speech” type who seems to spend a lot of their energy white knighting for neo-Nazis and other far-right types. They might be somebody who you’d think would be relatively unobjectionable to leftists but who’s said something that can be uncharitably interpreted as bigoted at some point. Besides raw factionalism, the obvious common point is something that can be reasonably interpreted as a defense of hierarchy. The “race realist” at least implicitly says “some groups are smarter or otherwise better than others and may therefore be rightfully deserving of privilege.” The business libertarian economist at least implicitly says “if you’re poor because you can’t get a job or can’t get a job that pays well, that’s basically your problem and the system working as intended; a society with great inequalities of wealth and status may not be ideal but it’s at least better than all the realistic alternatives.” The academic boomerposter at least implicitly says “some people struggle in our education system because of personal emotional sensitivities; their weakness is their own problem and us more functional people have no obligation to accommodate it, if that harms them it may be regrettable but it’s basically the system working as it should to weed out those unfit for it.” The principled free speech proponent at least implicitly says “wanting to kill the Jews and re-enslave the blacks and have white Sharia should be a tolerated opinion in our society, at least insofar as it should not be legally persecuted, and I am willing to devote considerable efforts to defending that principle.” The basically unobjectionable liberal who happens to have a dodgy comment or three in their social media record at least implicitly says “I don’t think I should get too much blowback for once implying that [insert group of concern here] maybe deserves the jackboot to the face.”

And sure, you can dispute the fairness of such judgements, but the over-arching project outlined by these targets seems fairly obvious: to raise the social costs of what leftists perceive as defending pecking orders.

And, like, yeah, there’s some meta-level differences about the role of tolerance and debate too, but I suspect a lot of the disagreement is really more object-level, over how objectionable certain opinions actually are, e.g. a lot of the dispute over “cancelling” the business libertarian guy is probably going to be over 1) how objectionable defense of hierarchy actually is, 2) whether libertarian beliefs are actually defenses of hierarchy.

[theninjasheeep]

Blood of Love

Pairing: Pieck Finger x Porco Galliard (Modern/Fantasy AU)

This is my entry for @pleasantanathema’s Through Ink and Quill | A Classics Collab. I decided to go for a character study of Porco and Pieck's relationship following my Pokkopiku week piece Sweet Pandemonium paired with some vampire lore from Dracula and Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles.

The idea of vampire!Pokkopiku came from @sinnamon19’s over the top fan art.

You can also read it on AO3.

Summary: Since they are creatures of the night, their senses, as their feelings are heightened to lengths that can’t be explained by words. But since blood is their life sustenance, it is also their means of communication.

Warnings/tags: Pokopiku, Pokkopiku, Gallipieck, Porco Galliard/ Pieck Finger, Porco Galliard x Pieck Finger, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Character Turned Into Vampire, Vampire Bites, Vampire Turning, Blood Drinking, Mentions of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Blood Sharing.

Blood of Love

Waking up in darkness after spending most of his life shunning the sun when he wanted to sleep late was a welcome change for Porco. He could lie and pretend he was one of those humans-turned-vampires who wailed about the sun, its warmth and brightness and how much he missed it, but he didn't.

He didn't miss the impending sense of foreboding dread that clogged his senses or the tacit expectation that life should have some kind of meaning. It was a succession of routines: being born, growing up, reproducing and dying; waking up, going to work or school, coming home, going to sleep and starting again the next day. There was always an unsatisfied craving, a need to be satiated that gave rise to another....

If it weren't for that same life and the unexpected, he would still be stuck in the routine of a life that no longer felt like one. Not so long ago he was eager to die and escape the curse of boredom. However, now that he was undead, he felt more alive than ever.

He didn't miss living as a human.

He did not miss the wars that sent young men like him to fight in battles and advocate for ideals that were in no sense his own. Wars like the ones that took his brother away from him, wars that made mothers cry and lose their lives to grief, like his. He didn't miss being part of a greater good, he fancied being selfish, living only for himself and what he deemed worthy of living for, like Pieck.

Pieck who turned him, Pieck who gave him a reason to live in hope and love.

The stories that are told about vampires are rich and wide-ranging. The majority depict them as cold and devoid of emotion creatures who enjoy drinking blood and playing with their mortal victims without any consideration or pity, with no regard for their suffering.

Dracula is the one that, for Porco, is closest to the truth. Leaving out, naturally, his own inability to turn into mist, a bat or a wolf, and how terribly he has fared with the latter when he has encountered them on his nightly hunts with Pieck high in the mountains, puts him quite a distance from what is supposed to be the blueprint for all vampires.

It has been less than fifteen years since Pieck agreed to turn him and allow him to stay with her forever. Overall, he could even be considered a novice vampire, at least in comparison to the more than two hundred years his female partner has been crisscrossing the planet. However, it has been long enough to learn what is both necessary and appropriate, but what the books say is, amongst other things, preposterous and out of proportion.

Porco's hazel eyes, in the darkness of the room, shine like two torches as they scan the words in each book with unprecedented speed.

The library, nestled in Pieck's hideout in an abandoned town once called Liberio, is about the same size as the house itself. To the unsuspecting eye, the house is a dilapidated old manor from which thieves plundered the treasures long ago, leaving only the massive stone and iron columns. Underneath, however, is a hidden cellar and a sealed passageway that can only be opened with the supernatural strength of a creature like Pieck. Not even he, with his years beside her and the same superhuman strength, is able to open it without visible effort.

Once that initial obstacle is overcome, a long corridor rises up with small windows that let in just enough light to clue the nighttime inhabitants as to what time of day they are in. And behind that corridor is a scaled-down replica of the ruined house that exists above ground: three bedrooms, a kitchen - more out of habit than necessity - a living room and a huge bathroom with a bathtub built into the wall, in addition to the library, make up what could be considered Porco and Pieck's home sweet home.

Although it is ridiculous, Porco is not going to stop enjoying his reading and perusing every nook and cranny of the library while Pieck, with all her quirks, tries to do some vampire yoga in the room across on their home.

Stories about vampires always depict them as a kind of blood-drinking skeleton barely able to articulate words and unfit to walk freely in broad daylight, as the sun is their greatest enemy. The only thing they got right is that their skin burns and the acrid smell of ashes is the only thing that lingers in the air after they perish.

In other stories, they are portrayed as having no emotional capacity and could be easily mistaken for an angsty teenagers searching for their identity and place in the world, with little to no impulse control, driven by their whims, manipulating their way until they achieve their goal. In these tales, the depiction is so over-the-top ridiculous that it is almost comparable to handing a child a panic button.

What is undeniable is the enormous capacity of humans to envision and demonize what they do not know.

Superhuman strength and speed, mind reading and control, morphing into wolves, bats and mist? The books detail how versatile their powers are, how they are able to cloak themselves, thanks to their human appearance, and hide for long periods of time in large communities and lead a relatively normal life, without arousing suspicion.

Although there are also accounts that refer to them as ruthless, cruel and stone-cold beings, who toy with the humans they intend to use as food until they have had enough, and only then, kill them in the most violent and painful way possible.

At this, Porco rolls his eyes. In his experience, both he and Pieck are careful with the humans they feed on. They always look for ways not to cause them pain or fear, and above all, to avoid leaving behind scenes worthy of a gorey b-movie.

Perhaps the only time such a scene involved the two of them was when Pieck agreed to transform him into a vampire.

--

There was a moment where he couldn’t see or speak anything and everything went black for him. He started to listen to a heartbeat, two actually. One was his... the other...

“Pieck?” He asks. He can hear her voice somewhere in the distance, it sounds pained and far, far away.

Meanwhile, Pieck keeps pouring her blood on Porco’s mouth and is silently praying to whatever it is that created them and allowed them to be alive for him to survive this ordeal. She’s panicking now because he’s very pale, dead by now, but he’s not responding to her calling like he is supposed to.

“Porco, wake up!” She cries. “Open your eyes,” She pleads. “Come to me!”

Nothing happens and Pieck panics, falling in a circle of self loathing.

Giving up on him, she lets her head fall on his chest and at this point she’s just a mess of guilt and anguish. Her hair is on her face and his shirt is all bloody with his blood, her blood, her tears. She can’t move, the will to do anything has left her completely so she just lays there beside him on the floor crying.

--

He hasn’t read anything that depicts accurately how they are created. Probably humans think they just popped out of nowhere. However, vampires themselves have a myth: Ymir Fritz was the first human turned into a vampire, many call her the Founder. She was a slave but became Queen of Eldia when King Fritz was unable to defeat her in battle. He surrendered and married her and, in turn, she made him into a vampire and together they gave birth to their species.

Where are they now? No one knows, they are probably marble statues, since the longer a vampire lives, the whiter and rougher their skin becomes.

One book in particular catches his eye: its dark blue cover with gold sparkles featuring a nine-pointed star, the symbol of Ymir Fritz. However, after a brief glance, he discovers that it is a parody.

Porco snorts, he can't believe he's found a book in which vampires don't roast in the sun, but glow like a fairy in plain daylight without any repercussions for their lives. Pieck must have been really bored to get —and keep— something like that and deem it worthy of their huge underground library.

"Have you found anything interesting, Pokko?" Pieck's mellow voice reaches his ears from the bedroom. Her body doesn't make any sounds when she moves, but her soft breathing tells him that she's still trying to do vampire yoga, as if she needs to.

"Geez, Pieck!" Her taunting giggle is the only response he gets, and aware that she can also hear him from where she is, he retorts: "You scared the hell out of me." He grumbles in fake annoyance.

"Don’t worry, you won’t have a heart attack."

“Tch.”

But it is true, no matter how much she may sneak up behind him to scare him, his heart has long since stopped beating, and if he had remained a human, he would most likely have died many years ago. When Pieck came into his life one night, wounded and seeking shelter, he had lost the will to live. All that remained from the happy Porco who lived with his parents and brother was a mere shell that always reminded him of how much he resembled Marcel. And had he lived, despite his desire to die, he would have been almost forty years old by now.

Putting the books aside and getting up from the floor, Porco makes his way to the bathroom where there is a huge full-length mirror, which he and Pieck use in such creative ways when they make love at night.

A derisive smirk tugs at his lips as his reflection glances back at him through the mirror. There are stories that claim vampires don't see themselves in mirrors and that's the reason they avoid them. If only whoever wrote that knew the things the mirror in his bathroom has seen him do to Pieck.

Sometimes, when he is overcome by melancholy and Pieck's love and company fail to reach the deepest wounds in his heart, Porco wishes that particular myth were real. What would his life be if his brother were alive? What would Marcel's life be if the war hadn't extinguished the light in his eyes? The same deep green eyes that right now were scrutinizing his every feature in the mirror.

As the years have gone by, his skin has become paler and his eyes more golden. Pieck likes to say that he is slowly turning into a lion.

Speaking of Pieck...

A slender hand appears over his right shoulder in the mirror, and down his arm until it curls around his waist. Seconds later, the weight of Pieck's head resting on the space between his shoulder blades confirms that he is no longer alone in front of the mirror.

“Hey,” She greets, nuzzling against him tenderly, “what are you thinking?”

He clears his throat, embarrassed.

His left hand reaches up and intertwines his fingers with Pieck's over his chest, and looking behind him, his gaze meets hers.

“My brother.”

Pieck's embrace grows tighter and a line of kisses and scratches from her fangs on his neck make Porco forget, for a moment, how much he misses his family.

“I’m sorry.”

“You know they were long gone before I met you.”

“I know, it’s just...” She releases her hold on him, walking a few steps to stand in front of him in the mirror, her back against it. “I wish I could ease your pain, but I’d be lying if I say that I never think about my father, I miss him.”

Porco raises his hand to caress her cheeks. “You’re stuck with me forever, remember?”

She smiles softly, leaning against him and hugging him back. Porco buries his face on her neck and taking advantage of their embrace, sinks his teeth on her neck, making her moan in delight.

There’s another thing the books about them seem to ignore or purposefully miss: yes, they are creatures of the night and as their senses, their feelings are heightened to lengths that can’t be explained by words. But since blood is their life sustenance, it is also their means of communication. Drinking the blood of another vampire is a gesture so intimate and so rare, that when it’s done by partners, it’s more than just a confession of love and trust, it goes beyond lust and desire: a vampire can show what they feel through images to their partner when they share their blood, and since words are not his forte by any means, he’s always eager to show Pieck comfort and reciprocate everyday the comfort and peace she gave him.

Licking the tiny marks of his fags on her neck, he nuzzles against it, kissing her tenderly. Pieck, being smaller than him, has a harder time reciprocating his gesture, but she stands on her tiptoes and kisses him back, biting his lower lip and drinking his blood as well.

Emboldened by the gesture, he carries her and sits her in the sink, standing between her legs without breaking the kiss. At this, Pieck leverages herself on his shoulders and —finally— sinks her teeth on his neck, eliciting from him a low growl. He bites her back and through their blood they both convey to each other what their words and their hands, roaming over every inch of the other' s body, cannot: they are together until the end of time and the sadness that each one carries is shared by the other.

Together, they were safe.

[opbackgrounds]

Hi there Sarc' ;) I am sorry if the question has already been asked but I thought it could be interesting to have your opinion about this. While I love most of the female characters in OP and think that most of them are well developed and can be truly good role models for girls I still feel that Oda sometimes has a sexist view on female characters (the jokes about the naked bath scenes for example or Kororo being considered ugly make me really uncomfortable). What do you think about it?

Ah, I wondered when I would get this question. 

When people talk about sexism in One Piece they typically are referring to two different things: How women are drawn, and how they’re treated within the narrative. While there’s some overlap here, there’s enough distinction that I want to address them as two separate points in two separate posts, because I guess I had Opinions, and by god there should be a limit to how much text one tumblr post can be expected to hold. Consider this an introduction.

Buckle up, kiddos. This is gonna be a long one. 

Nami Face Syndrome Isn’t the Problem...

An important thing to remember with Oda’s art and storytelling style is that almost everything is hyper exaggerated for effect. You don’t go into One Piece looking for realism. You don’t go into One Piece expecting the characters to act like normal people. Everything--from the art to the humor to the battles--is stretched and pulled to its absolute limit in hopes of garnering a particular reaction. When a character is sad they cry big bubbly tears with dribbles of snot coming from their nose. When they laugh their mouths take up half their face. 

And when a girl is hot, her tiddies are two great big watermelons stuck to the center of her chest.

What is often dubbed “Nami Face Syndrome” within the fandom is somewhat misleading. After all, why was Wanda, who is a literal dog that walks on two legs, decried as yet another Nami clone at her introduction? I would postulate it’s less to do with her face and more to do with the fact that from the neck down they are virtually identical, something that’s made more obvious because Wanda is literally wearing Nami’s clothes

What makes this frustrating for a lot of people, myself included, is that it’s not that Oda is incapable of drawing more diverse body types, but that he often chooses not to. Take for example the Kuja tribe

or the Charlotte family daughters (thanks to Arthur at Library of Ohara for the resource). It’s pretty clear Oda has the chops to make his women as weird as the men, and he often does! For important characters, even. And yes, as the Kokoro example given above sometimes the gonkness is brought attention to, but for others like Lola and Chiffon it’s...not. 

(more on mermaids later)

But Sarcasticles, one might protest, even Oda’s “ugly” characters have ginormous boobs! Where is my itty bitty titty committee representation >:(

To which I can only shrug. For Oda, boobs on a woman are like abs on men. It doesn’t matter if it makes sense, they’re gonna have ‘em

Seriously, Oda. What the fuck.

...So What Is?

I have a theory that’s impossible to prove, and that the problem isn’t so much Oda’s character design so much as the ratio of his male to female characters in general. It’s not that every female character is a Nami clone, but Oda has a template he uses for attractive female characters ages 16-25, the same way he uses Robin as a template for attractive women ages 26-35, which is how you get cases of mistaken identity like Viola for Robin or scenes during Reverie where one could be forgiven for thinking Nami’s supposed to be an identical triplet

 Oda does this for his men, too. It’s not as obvious because 1) Even men with similar facial features can have a wider variety body types due to Oda having a sliding scale of buffness he’s willing to attach to a pretty face and 2) There are more men. 

There are a lot more men.

In groups where the male to female ratio is more or less equal (Baroque Works, Big Mom’s kids) you get a wide variety of designs. But there’s only one female Supernova. There’s one female Warlord. CP9 only has one female agent. Only one of the Revolutionary Commanders is a woman. There are very few female background characters in crowd shots, especially among marines. Big Mom might be the only female Emperor, but she’s not young, In fact, when drawing her at age 28, Oda defaults to a much more generic “pretty girl” face before giving her much more striking, memorable features in her 40s

If you look at Oda’s male characters, the ones that are supposed to be hot are often given the same square jawline and the thin-bladed nose that at one point in time was reserved for Robin. Both Coby and Sabo had very distinctive noses before their glowups, while Ace must have had a laser treatment done on his eyebrows sometime between Alabasta and Marineford. 

But the biggest difference on the men has got to be muscle mass. The overgrown noodles of early One Piece are lost to the annals of time. Shanks alone must have gained 30 pounds of pure muscle from the time Luffy got his first bounty to his appearance at Marineford. 

Now, I will acknowledge that there is a difference between the increasing sexualization of female characters and the male power fantasy of giving Zoro bara tiddies post-timeskip. While I do think there are certain male characters specifically designed to be the Hot Dude, what I’m trying to emphasize here is that Oda works with templates for both men and women, and both of those templates have been exaggerated over time. Bigger boobs for women, more muscles for men. And when you’re only slotting for one girl in any given group, and that one girl has to be The Hot One then you’re going to have a lot of ladies that end up looking the same. 

My love for Otohime on this blog is well known, and I want to use her as an example of what Oda can do when he works beyond this template, because it’s really freaking good  

Otohime is neither conventionally attractive nor gonk. She’s dressed in very conservative, traditional clothing and has a narrow waist and small chest. 

There are no sharp edges on Otohime. Not her eyebrows, not her jaw, and most of the time not even her hands, emphasizing her gentle nature. You don’t see it as well in this panel, but Otohime’s head is often drawn wider than her shoulders, emphasizing her frailty. Oda gives her a longer neck to compensate, and the overall effect is a very soft, willowy figure. 

Her headpiece looks like a sunburst. The audience never sees her fins, so Oda gives her a scale patterned kimono-dress-thingy (my knowledge of Japanese clothing is, uh, not good) as a visual reminder that she’s not human. The sash that circles around her head harkens back to Japanese mythology as a symbol of divinity, similar to a halo in Western culture. And fun fact: Otohime is named after a god, just like Neptune, while her goals and ideals are pure enough to be heaven-sent. 

I’m not an artist, but this is a really damn good character design. A lot of Oda’s older female characters are. Dandan, Tsuru, O-Tsuru, Shakky, Kureha, Big Mom, and Nyon are all instantly recognizable and have strong designs, even if a few of them fall into the hourglass figure that Oda often defaults to. It’s just...there aren’t that many of them.

So the question becomes why aren’t there more women, and I think the answer is because, ultimately, One Piece is a series geared at boys. While I wish there were a few more important ladies, I can understand why there aren’t. 

Note, that doesn’t mean I think it’s right or that Oda is obligated to include more women. It’s just one of the facts of the shonen manga industry at this point in time. 

A more important question, I think, is why does every younger woman have to be attractive? And why do the attractive ladies have to wear outfits that are blatant fanservice? This is something I don’t have an answer for. Oda has said on more than one occasion that he writes One Piece with his twelve year old self in mind. It could be that it’s a calculated move to appeal to his audience, in which case it’s certainly worked because said Hot Ladies are constantly used in marketing and merchandising. It’s the Hot Ladies that top the popularity charts (although, to be fair, who’s there for competition?). In the most recent chapter a new Hot Lady was introduced, and the fandom went batshit crazy for her.

Even the fans who are very vocal about how Oda sucks at drawing women. It’s interesting how that works out sometimes.

Or maybe I’m giving Oda too much credit, and he’s just horny. Not having direct access to Oda’s mind, I don’t have an answer. If I had to guess I’d say it’s a little of Column A, a little of Column B, because that’s usually how life is. 

But in a vacuum big tiddies are just a design choice. An exaggerated aesthetic, in a series full of exaggerated aesthetics. It’s when that design choice is paired with in-story comments, actions, and decisions where things really start to get heated. But that’s a whole other ball of wax, and there should be a limit to how much one tumblr post can be expected to hold. I promise I’ll get to the meat of your question next time.

Thank you so much for your patience. I really do think it’s important to start here before diving into everything else, if only because it helps keep my thoughts organized. I hope you’ve found this helpful, and if not, I hope to do better next time. 

[simplyotometrash]

Fluff Alphabet- Asmodues

Full Alphabet (because I’m weak)

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

Your personality! Asmo adores everything about you, but your personality is what truly draws him in. You fascinate him. You aren’t like the demons or witches who only show interest in him for pacts or for sex. You genuinely love him. And he finds it curious. The little facets of your personality draw him in, he finds himself learning new things about you every single day you’re together. In turn, he learns new things about himself, too.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Ask me what ISN’T his favorite part, it’s a harder question. He encapsulates love for you, he loves your whole body. If he has to pick something, he would choose your eyes. They truly are the windows to the soul. Your beautiful soul (I beg you, listen to the song Beautiful Soul by Jesse McCartney). Your eyes have so much light and life, they reflect your feelings so well. They’re something he finds himself getting lost in. 

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

Asmo can be a real cuddle bug. He likes holding you and being held. He’s only like this if he’s actually in a committed relationship with someone. His ideal way to cuddle is you both laying face to face, your leg draped over his hip and one of his legs between yours. His arm is draped over your waist, fingers able to trace against your back. He can see your stunning face and give you kisses and watch as you fall asleep. And think every day how lucky he is.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

Shopping dates! Asmo likes to make full days out of your dates. A date with him includes shopping to both your favorite stores, eating at a cafe for a nice break, more shopping if you’re feeling up to it. Getting massages or manicures together. He likes wrapping things up at home, though, with a nice bubble bath together after you put your things down. It’s dimly lit, smells soft and floral, and the hot water is relaxing for your muscles. His perfect way to end an ideal date.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

He has to learn to be open with certain emotions. He’s been treated like his sin for so long that sex and flirting is how he knows to communicate. But he has so much to express, he just isn’t given the chance to. In a relationship with you, he learns other ways of expression that he likes. He loves to give you gifts. He loves sitting in the same room, not even doing anything together. He becomes very open with outright telling you how he feels about things because he doesn’t want to keep you guessing. If he needs comfort, he asks for it. If he is happy, he shows it.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

I’m not sure if Asmo is really a kid person. That’s not to say he dislikes kids, I don’t think he really wants them for himself. He can’t see himself as a dad. He prefers the freedom of not having children. But he does want to marry you. He wants you to be his. If he does change his mind about children, he would express it to you outright. If he changes his mind, it would be quite a few years into your relationship. I do think he’d love kid’s clothing and baby clothes.

“Look at how small and cute they are!” 

He’d actually be a really good father if he decides he wants children with you. But that’s for the distant future to decide.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

Asmo gives you gifts constantly. 

“Oh, my darling star, I saw this in the shop and thought of you!”

He will do this a lot. He sees things that make him think of you or that he thinks you will like and buys them to give to you. His two love languages are gifts and touch. You will just get presents regularly. He does enjoy getting gifts, too! He is always thankful and appreciative. 

“Why, of course you bought me a gift. I am the dazzling Asmodeus after all~!”

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

He didn’t think he liked holding hands much until you. He thought it felt sweaty and gross. And then you two held hands for the first time while shopping. You weren’t even dating at the time. His heart skipped and he knew he was done for. Now, he takes any chance he can to hold your hand. He likes to swing your hands, too. It’s childish and cute, very playful.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Asmo himself has enough self control that he would never hurt you. He’s like Mammon in that he would not even use his demon form against you, ever. But if he did accidentally hurt you, this demon boy would feel so horrible. 

If another demon hurt you, he would use his power to force them to leave before taking care of you. He is protective of his sweet honey. You will be catered to until you are healed again.

If you get hurt because you’re clumsy, he’ll laugh as he helps you up. He’s clearly checking you over for serious injury and taking you to get cleaned up if needed. He reminds himself to catch you next time you trip or stop you from running into things.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

His jokes are usually about himself. He loves himself, he is a king of self love after all. I think he plays up being a “narcissist” and uses it for joke material. I personally hate the whole “Asmo is a narcissist” thing because that isn’t what a narcissistic personality is. Loving oneself like he does is vanity but not narcissism and we need to stop calling vain people narcissists. 

Anyway!

He does like to pull pranks on and with you. You two can get engaged in prank wars a lot. Usually little things. Never, ever, mess with Asmo’s products though. If you do something that temporarily dyes his hair, he will come at you full force with his next prank. Don’t fucking do it.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

He loves kisses! All the smooches for Asmodeus! But he has a fondness for kissing your neck. Maybe the thought of marking your neck makes it more appealing. Maybe it’s the fact that the throat has a pulse point that he can feel under his lips. He just loves trailing kisses up the column of your neck and to your jaw and lips. His kisses get real sensual real fast. Not necessarily sexual. 

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

Physical affection and gift giving! As stated before, these are his primary love languages. Holding your hand or linking arms or hugs or cuddles. He loves touch. He craves physical affection and giving it to you is one way he shows his love. Giving you gifts is the other. It shows how often you are on his mind, how much he thinks of you when he’s doing things.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

That first time you ever held his hand. You two weren’t dating at the time. You were out shopping and got excited. It was crowded, though, and you didn’t want to get separated from him. You grabbed his hand, fingers linking together to strengthen the hold, and it was like his heart stopped beating for a moment. Everything seemed to slow down. That was when he knew he was in love. No one’s touch had ever made him feel like that before. He has photobooth pictures from that day in his wallet.

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

His worst fear is that you will tell him that you’ve been using him for sex the entire time. That you don’t really love him. He doesn’t want to be reduced down to his sin by you. You, the person he loves so much. The person who proved that he was more than his sin. If you came out with that, he doesn’t know what he would do with himself. He’s expressed this fear openly to you, to which he needed to be held because he was beginning to cry while telling you. Reassure him that your love goes far beyond sex. Please, don’t just be using him. He’s far more fragile than one might think.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

He is very particular about matching colors. With everything. If things don’t match, Asmo will not be happy. Even coordinating outfits with you is important. He doesn’t want to wear colors that clash with what you’re wearing. It’s important for things to look good together. That includes you two as a couple.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

Oh he has a whole fucking list of pet names. He rotates through them routinely, it never gets boring. Sweetie, sweetheart, my dove, my darling, honey, my sweet honey, darling star. sunshine, starlight, darling love, love. It never gets old with Asmo. He loves cute pet names. Please call him by pet names, too. He doesn’t use babe or baby because he feels they’re overused.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

Asmo, while he loves going on dates, enjoys just being in a room with you. You can be doing your own thing while he reads a magazine or paints his nails or scrolls through Devilgram. He doesn’t care what either of you are doing, so long as you are together. You don’t even need to talk. He likes having you in the room. But please, let him paint your nails. He will die if he gets to match your nails with his.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

Beautiful Soul by Jesse McCartney and I will die on this hill

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

Asmo doesn’t keep secrets from you. He doesn’t see much need to. He’s pretty much an open book.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

Once he realized he was in love with you, not too long. He slowly pushed his boundaries with you to gauge reactions for the next few weeks before making a very romantic and heartfelt confession to you.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

He tries to find out why you’re upset. He wants to help you. If you let him, he’ll give you a full body massage to help you feel better. He’ll run you a bath and let you soak, sitting by the bathtub if you ask. He will do anything he can to help you feel better. And he’s a great listener for when you’re ready to talk.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

Oh, Asmo will show you off all the time. He loves getting to flaunt the fact that he has the most perfect partner. If you don’t like being shown off, he will tone it down. But he’s proud of you. Proud to be with you.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

Asmo isn’t a fan of the idea of you being in serious fights. Especially with demons. He would fight for you in that case. If it’s a little cat fight, he is totally the boyfriend that would yell “kick her ass, sweetheart!” and hold your stuff for you while cheering you on.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

I feel like emotions are very connected to his sin. He can read you better than anyone. He can tell when pushing things is a bad idea and will leave it be. He can tell when you need space or need to get out of a situation. 

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

Asmo would have to make something of it. It needs to be perfect and romantic. But very much a private affair. He doesn’t want to put you on the spot in public, he thinks that’s tacky and crude. He would beg to be able to propose to you in the human world. You go to Japan when the cherry blossoms are in full bloom, The area is secluded, no one is around. There are cherry blossom petals dancing in the breeze when he kneels down and pulls out the ring to ask you. He even had Satan’s help writing his proposal like a poem. All for you.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

He feels calm when doing self care routines with you. Sometimes you just need to sit back, relax, and put on a face mask. It’s even more relaxing to do it with someone you care about. It doesn’t have to be a quiet kind of relaxing for him. He feels calm when getting to sit back and giggle with you, showing each other pictures you find while waiting on your masks to dry.

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness Chapter 32

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

I chased Ruby's bottom lip with hunger and she rolled her fingers through my hair. She giggled against my lips as I sighed in pleasure at the touch of her small hands.

I pinned her down against my unkempt bed with a vigor that made her roll her pelvis up at me and I growled.

"You rascal ." I broke off the kiss to look her in the eye but her grey gaze just seemed to say 'who, me?'

Yes you. If it wasn't you, then who?

I ran one frustrated hand under her body and along her back, pulling her close to me. I slid under her shirt and I bodily picked her up off the bed and held her against me as I devoured her lush, full lips with some savagery.

I touched the whole of her curved back with my arm and she heaved up into me with heavy breaths. Her skin just felt so fantastic against my own as I cradled the whole of her small form against my larger one. She let out another noise, one that made me feel like a demigod and she breathed out my name with a tiny mewl.

"Oh, Jaune..."

It left her pink lips like a prayer and I dove back upon them with my own.

It had been weeks since I'd held her so close. It had been weeks since we'd been able to share more than parting looks and careless touches. I could feel her want against my own in a steady rhythmic pulse which only sped up over time. She flushed as red like the tips of her hair as I chased her tongue around her mouth. Then she suddenly closed her lips and sucked on my tongue gently in a way that made my chest heave. It made me throb for her.

Our teeth met briefly and savory, softly clicking together when I deepened our kiss. She moaned, a low sound in her throat I wouldn't have thought the young woman capable of making. It only made me want to devour her flesh more. I kissed down her neck and over her jaw line until I arrived at the dimple in her collar and sucked against her supple skin.

So great was my hunger as I knelt between her legs that I nearly left behind hickies and marked her smooth flesh with my possessiveness. I had to remember not to mark her as she grabbed my face in her arms and moaned again. Gods I would do so fucking much just to hear her moan like that. That was why I did what I did. This is what I fought for. It nearly made the weeks of passing touches worth the wait just to hear her cry out quietly and writhe against the sheets.

Our aura's merged and flared like touching candle flames and she hissed beneath me, clawing against my shirt, just searching for purchase. She rubbed against the massive scars the Scorpion had left along my chest and I moaned loudly, almost a deep grunt. Red mixed with gold and flickers of blue flame. Crimson petals drifted from the air around us as the heat of our moment intensified.

Her legs tried in vain to wrap around my waist but my frame was too wide to allow that. She gave a little noise of protest which was absolutely delicious as she failed to pull me even closer to her.

The door to the room burst open.

"Hey Jaune have you seen my- what the fuck!?"

I was hauled off of Ruby by pure main strength and was turned to face Yang. I saw her eyes flash red from violet. I met the heated glare with pure stupid apathy as I was brutishly shoved against a wall hard enough that my head cracked against it.

"Have you seen," she hissed, "My. Sister."

"Yeah." I muttered duly. "She's around." My head cracked against the wall again painlessly. I felt slow, big, and dumb.

"Yang what the hell?!" Ruby shouted from where she sat up on the bed. Her fingers still deep in the sheets as she propped herself up.

"You were having sex!"

"I was super well aware!" Ruby huffed and blew her messy hair out from in front of her eyes. "Will you let him go, please?" Yang released me and I stepped back from the tan wall and away from one of the green plants which lined our Mistrali rental.

"Well. Explain, asshole." Yang demanded her hair burning in orange and yellow. Her enormous mane was inflamed from the heat of her anger.

"Yang I like him," Ruby spouted from behind her sister. "I should have told you, Jaune was helping me keep it a secret."

I nodded dumbly, still half cocked. Blood was flowing from other places back to my brain. I wasn't reacting swiftly to the situation and I wasn't sure there was much I could have said.

"Really? This dumb motherfucker?" Yang turned her gaze around at Ruby.

"Yang!" Ruby sat up straighter on the bed and dropped the sheets she'd still held clutched in those tiny hands. "I. Like. Him. And why not? He makes me feel safe. He makes me feel good. I like him. He always has my back and I love how much I trust him."

Yang staggered, looking at Ruby in disbelief. "How long?"

"A little before we picked up Qrow. Maybe a month." Ruby 'pffted' upwards blowing her hair out of her face again.

"This whole time," Yang whipped back towards me. "This whole time you've been taking advantage of my sister."

"I keep telling you it isn't like that!" Ruby protested.

"Then why sneak around about it?!"

Ruby geastured emphatically. "This! This is why, Yang." She turned her head sideways slightly. "I was trying to find the right time to tell you."

"And what? He was all too happy to go along with it?"

"Yes! He does whatever I ask him to do, he's like a big puppy. He's harmless."

"I just saw him murder a bunch of people. Calmly."

"We haven't had the chance to talk recently…" Ruby confessed, sounding meek for the first time. "But that's the job, Yang. Sometimes bad guys die. Roman Torchwhick died. You killed people too. That's the job sometimes. I knew that. You knew that."

"Yeah but I was busted up about it was the difference."

"Jaune was super messed up the first time he killed someone. You weren't there for it. You were back at Dad's. And Jaune had my back. When Tyrion came for me, to kidnap me and take me to Salem, Jaune was willing to die for me! He almost did die for me! How much more ideal and sweet a guy could I have found and you're still not happy with it? What was I supposed to do? No one was going to be good enough for me in your mind."

Yang's hair deflated. Her eyes flicked back to violet as something like shame took her over. If I was a betting man it wasn't over her outburst of anger, but rather over the fact she'd flinched.

"Jaune," I looked up at Ruby still feeling dazed. "Would you give us the room? Please?"

I nodded along. "Sure. Of course." I walked past the crouching tiger I felt Yang represented within the room and shut the door behind me. I leaned back against it and wiped my hands across my eyes and sighed out loud.

"You got caught." It was Weiss. I couldn't muster up the heat of a glare. I felt too tired, bone deep tired. I met her icy blue eyes, her hair was down around her shoulders and not in its usual ponytail.

"Yeah. We 'got caught.'" I let out. I was leaning deeply against the door such that our eyes were level.

She flushed a little scarlet. "Just kissing or something more?"

"A little of column A and a little of column B."

"Well you're still…" she trailed off pointing downwards. She was only looking out of the corner of her eye with her head turned away, as if to give me a sense of modesty.

I was still half cocked, thank you Weiss. Super appreciative.

It wasn't her fault, though.

I exhaled, hard, and took a few deep breaths. I tried to slow my heart rate back down and get my anatomy under control.

"Yeah well you know." I managed. "It'll go away."

"Is that how it works?"

"Yeah. That's how it works." I spouted stiffly.

"You could have locked the door."

"The doors don't have locks." I said dry as ice. "We figured somebody would knock first."

"And that would have helped?"

"Maybe? Probably? I don't have a plan for everything!"

She snorted at me in a quiet 'ugly' laugh. Yuck it up, Weiss.

I leaned against the door and tried to forget Ruby's pulse between her legs. It was pretty difficult. I was intentionally avoiding the word 'hard' but 'twas also that.

"Seems to me this whole situation could have been avoided if you'd just talked to Yang."

"Wasn't my decision. I'm just the dumb boyfriend. Dumb boyfriends follow their smart girlfriends' orders. Especially where family is concerned."

"What about your family?"

"They'd be amazed I got this far."

"With a girl?"

"Just in general." I crossed my arms over my chest.

Weiss gave me a pleasant smile at that, the sort I would have killed for freshman year. It was warm around the edges, yet firm in the center. Blue eyes glowing softly in the morning light of Mistral. The deep dusk reds couldn't seem to touch Weiss's eyes.

"Coffee?" She asked. "Or were you going to avail yourself of a cold shower?"

"Ha. Ha." I pronounced my 'ha's. "I think I'm good on that shower." I felt confident enough to stand up straight and I followed her down stairs for some of the brown beverage.

Weiss evidently took her's dark. I watched her quietly make it, arms folded in the kitchen over my blue cotton shirt. She handed a cup to me and I guess she knew I was a pussy because she offered me cream and sugar. I availed myself of some mixing the white with the brown. Just a little though. I wasn't Ruby. I heaved yet another sigh.

"So now the only one who doesn't know if Qrow." She blew over her drink.

"And Oscar, I guess." I cheered her when she offered her mug in my direction."Or Ozpin or whatever they are."

I took a sip and winced at the temperature.

"Careful, it is hot."

"I just about got that memo, thanks. One more just to make it sink in." I took another sip and winced. "Yep, still hot."

"Well don't do it again! You'll just hurt yourself."

I shrugged. "Pretty sure Yang would be on board with the concept of me suffering."

"Well let's not give her what she wants. I'll take it from you, you know. You have to be patient."

I blew over the top of the liquid distinctly impatiently.

"You're worse than Ruby sometimes." She was smiling, though.

"Yeah." I agreed. "How are you holding up after yesterday? Couldn't have been easy on the inside."

"Not sure if you heard or not but the Don picked me to be his escort for the night. He had some lines of hyper laid out on his bedside table, even. For the evening, I suppose. A man of indulgence."

"I hadn't." I prompted.

"I held him down with my semblance and made him talk. On the whole, I'd say I had the easiest job. Not like you boys outside."

"It got messy, I'm just glad none of you got hurt."

"How are you holding up with it?"

"Killing people, you mean?"

She nodded, leaning her head on one hand as she looked up at me from the table she'd taken a seat at.

"I'm alright at it. I think I might even be good at it. Killing people. It does get easier."

"How many?"

"I used to know, used to have a number. Went from one, to two, then five but... But now I've lost count. A bunch. A whole bunch of people."

"I'm sorry, Jaune."

"Sometimes it be like that,” I snapped my fingers and pointed off in the distance. She didn’t look distracted by my antics so I sighed. “It's what we signed up for."

"I haven't killed anyone, not yet. I probably will at some point, though. Seems inevitable, doesn't it?"

"Some poor sap without aura and then, bam." I nodded. "Even with aura you can't exactly tell how full they are sometimes so you just go right through."

"Gods."

"That's how my first one went. This bandit. I had my semblance and I just spent it and I cut him."

"You're unbelievably strong with your semblance active." Weiss nodded along like she could see it. "The point of Myrtenaster will probably be like that, especially if I have some speed behind me."

"Exactly." I took a sip, the coffee had finally cooled down enough that I could drink some. I almost found myself pounding the drink.

"Well, aren't we chipper?" She sighed.

"Just pragmatic. You didn’t actually tell me how you’re holding up.”

“Didn’t I?”

“No. You dodged it.”

“Did I now?” She teased with an upwards tilt of her chin.

“You just said you figured you had the easiest job then you changed the subject. You should answer the question I asked you. Just so long as we’re both being completely honest with one another.”

“And are we?” She wondered.

“If we’re not, I want to take back everything I told you since you arrived in Mistral,” I blew on my coffee. She gave me a dainty laugh. “So, how are you holding up?” I pressed.

“Not so great,” she confessed. “I’m not doing so great. But it wasn’t the absolute worst day of my life. So there’s that. I didn’t have to kill anyone which I’m thankful for. Just torture which I’m not sure is any better.”

“It’s not. Plus you had to wear those outfits.”

“Which you should admit you liked,” she fired right back. “It’s okay. I saw you stare at Ruby.” And you . It went unsaid but she saw me stare at her too. I couldn’t… I couldn’t really help myself. Her platinum hair went good with the black. And you know me. I’ve always thought that she was beautiful and talented and smart and a little queerly funny. So yeah. There was that.

“So what if I did? A bit of a nightmare if I ever asked Ruby to wear one. Besides she’s sexy enough in one of my shirts or her pajamas.” I sipped my coffee.

“Is she really?”

“You ever see Ruby blush?” I asked. “It gets me out of bed in the morning.”

“Well, I suppose…”

“You see how Ren's holding up?"

"Nora got him out of the place early. She called it a 'not-date' and left. I think she killed somebody too. Just crushed their rib cage."

"Lords above." I sighed. "Just you, Ruby, and Oscar, now. I suppose, depending on how you wanna cut that Ozpin thing."

She took a long drink of coffee at that, deep in thought and staring out a window onto the little courtyard we trained in.

"So the only thing left to do is get Qrow back up and walking. Job's done."

"Aren't we taking some ganglords word on that."

"Qrow thinks she'll honor it."

"She? Well isn't that progressive?"

"I figure Malachite isn't so bad. She seemed to run things clean, or as clean as such things can be run, and Qrow has had past dealings with them."

"You've met some of them?"

"This pair of twins. Evidently they're Malachite's daughters. One in white and one in red. Huntresses, the both of them."

"One on white and one in red huh?" Yang was standing by the banister. "Well I think I know where I heard that name before now."

"We cool?" I asked.

"Yeah. We're cool. Sorry for blowing up on you."

"S'no biggie."

"Kinda. You were there for my sister when she needed you. Needed somebody and I… I wasn't."

"No one blames you for that." I said. "You were hurt."

"So were you, what with Pyrrha and all."

"S'no biggie. It affects us all differently. My motivations to keep going weren't all so pure."

"Join us, Yang." Weiss encouraged. "Coffee?"

"Thanks." She strode into the room. Weiss stood up to pour Yang a mug. "Nora and Ren?"

"Out." Weiss and I said together.

"Ruby?" Weiss asked.

Yang snorted and I heard some plumbing going. "Said she was going to take a cold shower. Thanks," She said, accepting the coffee from Weiss.

"We were discussing yesterday," I said. "What horrific thing happened to you?"

Yang snorted again. "I uh I killed two people."

"How'd that go?" I asked.

"Awful. After Weiss got chosen we started hearing screaming from the 'presidential suite.'" Yang quoted. "Not even the kind you could maybe think was ‘the dirty.’ That sorta kicked things off. I just reached out and killed a guy. Just crushed his head. I thought he'd have aura."

"And even if he did…" Weiss trailed.

"Right." Yang nodded. "I shot another guy with my gauntlet and Ruby and Nora took care of the other two guys. Then I ripped my way through the locked presidential suite door. Weiss already had things under control by then but…" She trailed off. "Well then we came down the stairs and saw the mess you and Ren had to deal with. Saw you kick that guy."

I nodded. I still remembered the way his head had felt under my boot.

"And the rest…" She gave a shuddering breath and lifted the coffee to her lips. "The rest is history."

"Miserable," Weiss said, shaking her head.

"Some guns went off. You saw the girls who got shot." Yang said. "Just waitresses or whatever."

I nodded.

"And that was my day. How was yours?" Yang asked, sipping coffee.

"Wasn't quite the worst day of my life." I said. "But it's up there. It does get easier."

"Jaune, and I mean this with all politeness, I really really don't want to hear that," Yang said. "It should be hard. It deserves to be hard. It's well… you know."

I nodded like I got it, which I did.

I heard the plumbing shut off and Ruby exiting one of the bathrooms. I just listened.

"So you and my lil' sis." Yang broached. "How'd that happen?"

"She kept saving my life."

Yang let out a low whistle. "Way she told it, it was the opposite."

"You know how modest Ruby is."

She nodded. "You knew about this kerfuffle, Weiss?"

Weiss nodded. "Ruby told me. She- well - she was happy to share it with somebody."

I could have flushed at that.

"And that somebody couldn't have been me." Yang agreed sullenly, Weiss and I shared a look but Yang seemed mostly disappointed in herself. "That day you were also covered in blood. You'd just killed somebody then, too."

Three. Killed three. I even knew two of their names. I just nodded. "Some dumbasses without aura. Needed some information and he and his friend tried to fight me. Over nothing was the worst part. He died for nothing. I mean I went and unlocked his aura but he was already nearly cut in half so I'm not sure if he lived or died. I'm counting it as a death, though."

"You keeping count?" Yang asked.

"Was. Stopped yesterday." I finished off my coffee.

"He says he lost count." Weiss stepped in and refilled my mug. Bless her. She said it like it was the worst thing that could happen to a person and to be fair it really sucked.

"Good gods." Yang sighed. "That'll happen to me too. One day I'll just be like 'was it ten or twelve. I can't remember.'"

"The fight was fast and had a lot of bodies yesterday. You might get luck. Or unlucky. Whichever."

"Which is worse not knowing or knowing?" Yang laughed.

"Not knowing," I answered.

"You weren't supposed to answer that fast, Jaune." Weiss handed me my mug back.

"Ask me no questions…"

Ruby popped her head down. "Oh, you're…?"

"We 'aight." Yang answered.

"It's fine," I said.

"I have coffee here just for you Ruby." Weiss brushed some spilled coffee grounds into her hand and into the sink. Ruby came jostling down to us and accepted the cup.

Ruby came over and gave me a peck on the cheek. Yang rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Just get it out and done with now."

"Is that how you think it works?" Ruby asked.

"Oh just because you have a boyfriend now doesn't make you all knowledgeable."

"It might." Ruby responded but there was a quiver of laughter to her voice.

"Please share what it's like with us humble mortals," Weiss said. Ruby fell back and I caught her. I put an arm around her waist and held her close to me.

She leaned her head back against my chest and sighed. "It's nice. It's nice not having to hide it, either."

"Ugh." Yang rolled her eyes but she was smiling. I wasn't sure what they had talked about up there but something must have gotten through to Yang.

"Are Ren and Nora dating yet?" Weiss asked.

"Kinda. More than before but less than you'd think," I answered.

"Figures," Yang said.

"Hey kid," Qrow wheeled up. "What's uh what's going on here?" He was looking at Ruby in my arms, looking relaxed.

"Jaune and Ruby are a thing." Yang answered. "Sorry you're the last to know."

"I could have guessed," he grunted. "Come on kid. Meeting with the Malachites."

"So just me then. Okay." Yang muttered.

"Will you be okay alone?" Ruby asked me.

I slammed back my coffee and nodded. I would be just fine, I think.

"I'm coming too." Ruby decided. No one argued with her.

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

-WG

[holysmotez]

Jealous Tifa in AC

Please pardon my delay on this, RL work tied me up this afternoon a bit, but it did give me time to think on this question @magicalchemist asked me: 

"Why do you think the devs decided to point out so specifically in an Ultimania about Advent Children Tifa's jealousy of Aerith and have Cloud hiding that he went to the church from her. To push the LTD? Or to highlight communication issues? I would love your take on that"

My short answer is that I think it’s some of column A, and some of column B.  My full reply is under the cut due to length (I’m sorry) and for spoilers

The following is the section I believe you are referencing from the 10th Anniversary Ultimania (credit: https://thelifestream.net/lifestream-projects/translations/66/the-compilation-of-final-fantasy-vii-ultimania-translations/):

A close friend as well as rival? The complicated emotions she feels towards Aerith.

「Both of them share feelings for Cloud 」 — Tifa was close to Aerith, who can also be called a love rival. With that point in mind, they were also good friends. Nevertheless, it is not hard to imagine that she carries complex feelings as a woman toward Aerith, who had built up a special bond with Cloud that was different from Tifa’s.

Tifa’s complicated feelings continue even in AC, two years after Aerith had departed the world. This was due to the fact that Cloud, succumbing to the notion that Aerith’s death was his fault and condemning himself, construed that Denzel was “the child which Aerith brought here” and took care of him. In addition, Cloud had also gone away to the church that Aerith had been in. The thing which she is unable to hide in her irritation towards Cloud is the fact that he isn’t merely dragging the past around, but because that reason might perhaps be related to Aerith.

[FFVII] Seeing Cloud and Aerith developing their world together before her eyes, she inadvertently lets slip her peevish feelings. [AC] Upon knowing that Cloud had been residing in Aerith’s church after leaving the place they had been living in together, her expression becomes complex. 

From a marketing perspective, I do tend to think bringing up Tifa's jealousy is partly to ladle on some soap opera-inspired drama.  I think SE is well aware that the perception of there being a LTD, regardless of the reality, is one of FF7′s biggest hooks.  

However, I also don't think the jealousy angle is totally without basis, either, but I also tend to think that Cloud was actually the one more worried about her feelings of jealousy than Tifa herself was.  He was the one who acted like going to the church and finding Denzel was on the level of having an affair:

From Case of Tifa:

"Well..." Cloud looked like a kid that about to be scolded as usual. "Tell me. I'll decide whether I'm angry or not after I listen." Cloud nodded and continued. "Denzel had collapsed in front of the church where Aerith used to be. That's why I thought Aerith lead him to "my place"". Saying all that in one breathe, Cloud looked away. "You went to the church." "I wasn't planning to hide there." "You were hiding." "I'm sorry." "I didn't say you couldn't go. But next time, I'll go together with you."

Meanwhile, I get the impression at this point that Tifa’s just trying to understand what the hell is going on.  She wants him to feel comfortable being vulnerable with her, and where her anger comes out when he doesn’t seem to get that, culminating when she tells him earlier in the text, “Then drink in your room.”   I think she sincerely regrets doing that, and knows it’s not the right approach, and so her response to him above isn’t that of a jealous, forgotten wife who just found a different shade of lipstick on his shirt.  It’s a partner who wants to understand so that she can help.

But when you're scared for your partner and your relationship, rational thinking tends to go out the window.  The situation feels out of control, so you slip out of control.  You might question everything and blow stuff out of proportion that would otherwise be ridiculous to you in normal circumstances-- and I think in Tifa’s case, it's reasonable that some of her irrational thinking could also include dredged up memories of jealousy concerning Aerith.  After all, that also aligns with her biggest fear: losing Cloud.  It’s also understandable that she might feel jealous of the fact that the succor Cloud is looking for is something he thinks she can't help him with, but Aerith can.  But the problem is Tifa doesn’t know whether anything she is feeling is ridiculous or what’s on Cloud’s mind at all because Cloud’s not communicating well enough.  And at the end of CoT, Cloud’s just plain ol’ gone after she thought she made a breakthrough with him.

So then Tifa, when she finally has an opportunity in AC, lets him have it.  Whether her emotions are fueled partially by jealousy is debatable, but it’s definitely fueled by her very human feelings of hurt and insecurity.  Which, I might add, is not an ideal communication pattern...ideally, you shouldn't let your grievances build until you blow up, and neither should you avoid your partner until they feel they have no other recourse. 

BUT!   The good news, though, is that AC is meant to show Cloud & Tifa both demonstrating change as they come to understand and trust each other much better.  The experience reaffirms for both of them that they do cherish what they have together, and I think it nurtured a stronger faith in each other.  Yes, even Tifa changes, because despite her saying that Cloud needs to accept help and let others in, SHE is the one to identify that Kadaj is Cloud’s fight alone and holds back the cavalry.  She demonstrates an understanding that his decision to go without her isn’t him saying “I don’t care” or “Aerith is bae”, but rather it was a way of saying, really badly, “this is my fight.”

And at the end of the day, it works out because they do know they are each other's biggest supporters.  When both partners are committed - as I think Cloud & Tifa are - when the hurts heal, they tend to heal back stronger.

Lastly, before I exhaust you all completely, I think this caption to this pic from the quoted Ultimania should not go unmentioned:

Tifa, smiling towards Aerith’s presence. Cherishing Aerith is Tifa’s honest feeling.

Let's repeat that again.  Cherishing Aerith is Tifa’s honest feeling...not jealousy.  So yeah.  Despite the jealousy blurb, the Ultimania is also rather quick to set us straight on that.

Edit: my dumbass forgot to credit the Case of Tifa text, it’s from Final Fantasy Kingdom

[twstsimping]

Introducing my new Scarabia Oc!! This took me loads of time to make and I’m really proud of it!

Name: will smith

Age: ???

Birthday: ???

Starsign: ???

Height: 6’ 2

Eye colour: brown

Hair colour: black

Homeland: ???

Dorm: Scarabia

School year: 3rd

Class: 3A

Occupation: student, genie of the lamp

Club: light music club

Best subject: music

Dominant hand: ambidextrous

Favourite food: jams

Least favourite food: human flesh

Dislikes: Not having a top knot

Hobby: singing

Talent: everything

Personality

Who is Will Smith? He is an American actor, producer, rapper, and songwriter who has been nominated for four Golden Globe Awards, two Academy Awards, and has won four Grammy Awards, and was named "the most powerful actor in Hollywood" by Newsweek. He was born on Wednesday September 25th 1968, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, United States.

Will Smith has powerful personality, and possesses great potential for success, but this power is delicate and conditioned by a strong commitment of his to his ideals and vision, which must be used to inspire others to join him in his dream. He must learn to effectively bring together the necessary elements - people, ideas and resources - to realize his goals. This undertaking can be quite complex and multi-layered, so Smith must also learn to surrender to the larger cause that he serves, and to understand that the final result may be quite different from his original vision. But with such faith and commitment, Will will make an enduring impact on the world.

is good at business and politics. He naturally understands large institutions, and has the ability to think and act on an international scale. He has developed the talent to deal effectively with a great variety of people, to understand and consequently to unite many differing people toward a single goal. As the visionary with both his feet on the ground, Will Smith is gifted with uncommonly sound common sense. He can see the beauty and potential in a given idea, but also the practical methods that will bring it to fruition. He also understands intuitively the limitations of ideas - what will work and what will not.

Will Smith is a steady partner in any relationship, and offers sound advice and consistent emotional support. He avoids airs and pretension, does not suffer from flights of fancy, and resists the emotional heights. However, Will is also very difficult to live up to. This ambitious personality of his makes him a most difficult master who drives all that is around him to accomplish the utmost of what they are capable of.

Smith's lesson is to share his vision and allow others too to make their personal contributions. This flexibility is perhaps the toughest challenge for Will Smith's strong personality. When he grows more faith in the ability of others, he would lessen his tendency to control, and sometimes even manipulate, people and situations.

Unique magic

Wills unique magic is called aplatonic genie, he can say the words aplatonic genie mood board and send anyone into a coma.

Backstory

Well Ali Baba had them forty thieves

Scheherezad-ie had a thousand tales

But master you in luck 'cause up your sleeves

You got a brand of magic never fails

You got some power in your corner now

Some heavy ammunition in your camp

You got some punch, pizzazz, yahoo and how

See all you gotta do is rub that lamp

And I'll say

Mister Aladdin, sir

What will your pleasure be?

Let me take your order

Jot it down

You ain't never had a friend like me

Life is your restaurant

And I'm your maitre d'

C'mon whisper what it is you want

You ain't never had a friend like me

Yes sir, we pride ourselves on service

You're the boss

The king, the shah

Say what you wish

It's yours, true dish

How about a little more Baklava?

Have some of column A

Try all of column B

I'm in the mood to help you dude

You ain't never had a friend like me

Can your friends do this?

Do your friends do that?

Do your friends pull this out their little hat?

Can your friends go poof?

Well, looky here

Can your friends go, Abracadabra, let 'er rip

And then make the sucker disappear?

So dontcha sit there slack-jawed, buggy-eyed

I'm here to answer all your midday prayers

You got me bona fide, certified

You got a genie for your chargé d'affaires

I got a powerful urge to help you out

So what-cha wish?

I really want to know

You got a list that's three miles long, no doubt

Well, all you gotta do is rub like so - and oh

Mister Aladdin, sir, have a wish or two or three

I'm on the job, you big nabob

You ain't never had a friend, never had a friend

You ain't never had a friend, never had a friend

You ain't never had a friend like me

You ain't never had a friend like me, hah!

Trivia

Don’t touch him

He likes to party

It’s cold and dark inside his lamp

He likes going on a walk

As people

He has a son

No one knows his age or where he comes from

He has a burning hatred of Jamil

[bethoumyvision123]

Rachel Clement Circus  Josh Halper Album Review

     Greetings new readers, this is the old man heart column.

 I had to delete my old music blog because I was dealing far too much with satanic forces. In the true fashion of Daniel Johnston I suppose, though I think  deep down he was a believer. Interesting how Nordista Freeze told me his sister teaches advanced music theory at Lipscomb. 

ANYWAY

@rachel_clement27

     Rachel Clement is a star performer that has been a family friend for quite sometime. She began as a figure skater, though now has moved to many of the modern circus arts. These are such as spinning on silks from the ceiling, the contortion arts, and hooping. Shows her flexibility of performances occasionally at Plaza Mariachi on the weekends solo or as a duo. With an extremely elegant sophistication, and that’s something difficult to keep in a literal circus act. I suppose that is from her figure skating background. and On her Instagram, there are a variety of photos by a variety of photographers ranging from bright neons to oldy-tyme filters. Her visual aesthetic ranges between these boundaries consistently. This cross between new and old is at the heart of her performances too. This is purely my speculative opinion, though the contortion is more of an old school circus act, whereas the silks are more modern. It’s a performance that’s both old and new at the same time. An important note of her vintage aesthetic, which is a staple of her circus crew Beyond Wings, is the unending smiles. You’re helpless unless you join in on the spectacular cheer. One last important note, is this is not a freak show. It’s a sensual yet sophisticated burst of energy. She is certainly something to orbit around if you want to have some of that energy. 

Go to see Beyond Wings every weekend, evenings Friday and Saturday, and afternoons Sunday! Remember to tip because I hear they don’t pay well!!!!!

@sweetbabyjoshua 

A brief track by track review of his new album Alrightnik, who I think is probably the best young guitarist that I know of in Nash (sorry Danato)..... This is an album that was designed to be listened to track by track almost as one giant song.

Dayton, OH

This opens the album in a smooth and breezy day of your ideal temperature. It is an ascension to stand over the depths of the album. With touches of what I guess is a cello or bassy violin. My first impression of this old Americana cover was “Man, this guy respects his elders.” 

Should be Glad

Another brief tune that further sets the landscape of what the full band instrumentals sound like. I haven’t yet listened to his old band Western Medication, though I imagine this is along the lines of what they sounded like given the scene I was familiar with only by Pujol’s so-called southern gothic rock, and that I see take the gothic turn full force on the next track. Though I don’t think any of the stuff mentioned is really gothic.

Whale in a Field

The man knows how to lament. Rhythmic and soft falsetto chugging along. It’s almost that he regrets taking you so low here, so he added an upbeat ending to counteract the intrusive thoughts of forgetfulness and loneliness in the lyric.  

Desperation Waltz

The hammer-on ascension, as well as all the licks in this track tickle the soul in an almost tango way. Reminds me of the movie Waking Life with Glover-gill and the tosco tango orchestra, though I wouldn’t recommend that movie to anyone, despite it saying that everyone goes to heaven at the end. 

Prelude in E Major

Here is the perkiness to raise from the depths once again. Toe tappin’ fun to introduce the next track.

Who Knows

This is a special song title to me, and one of the scariest thoughts. Although, it states a lack of privacy in living an open book lifestyle and saying you’re fine despite malaise, which is the age we live in now. Always being watched, though a hint of also being watched over, or being competent enough to not be if you wanted. This track solidifies the thought that this man could be a broadway performer in Nash if broadway had any brains (I really do respect Danato though). 

Prelude in b Minor

At this point of the album, one really realizes that Josh is one of the most subtly technical musicians in Nashville. A skill that could have only hailed from a lifetime of practice and schooling.

Reflection

This was one of the singles on the album, and again we return to the smoothy and breezy day. The upright bass on this track is intense. It shifts into an electrical sunset part-way through. Harmonics raise the album to its penultimate peak to set the stage for the force of gravity that ends the album.

Thanks Cam isn’t a track. I thought it was a statement of easily one of the greatest engineers our age in the land. Cameron Davidson. Though it is actually a reference to Cam the bassist. Amazing playing y’all!

Honest Feeling

I said this was gravity, though I am mostly referring to the lyrics that lament the new Nashville and the lack of lasting communities in my opinion. Perfect cheerful piano too. “It will never be” seems a little dramatic, though I couldn’t agree more with the statement. I would guess things are changeable though, though will itself is never going to be the way is how i interpret this. 

MORE REVIEWS SOON!! RECOMMENDATIONS APPRECIATED! THANK YOU!

SPECIAL THANKS: THE COWbOY ARMS HOTEL AND RECORDING SPA, and the readers. 

[gabolange]

Tagged by @ajoblotofjunk

1. When you were little, what did you think you’d be when you grew  up? Did your reality (or your future plans) come close to that?

I wanted to be an ophthalmologist as a little kid (with very bad eyes) and then an astrophysicist, which stuck right up until I almost failed physics in high school. So...reality has turned out very differently.

2. Do you think of yourself as an urban, suburban, or rural person?

Hrm.  I love love love big cities, the way they have so much character and the way they are all so much themselves. Exploring big cities is one of my favorite things...but I find the experience of living in big cities kind of overwhelming. I start to get antsy for my car.

I live in the ‘burbs not far from a mid-size city, and I rather like it. I’m close enough to all the things: I can get my theatre and my fancy food and my sports and my airport (or I could before the plague), but I can go home to relative quiet at the end of the day.

But I’m not sure I’m a suburban person precisely. It’s sort of...the best of column A and the best of column B?

3. Do you decorate with carefully matched pieces, or are you eclectic?

My preference is pretty matchy. My actual life involves stuff acquired along the way, just like everyone else.

4. Are you the photographer of your group/family, or do you always want to be in the photos?

Much more the photographer. I know what I look like.

5. Do your thoughts come to you in words (like conversations with yourself) or pictures (abstract, ideas, visions)?

Hmm. A little bit of both? My writing especially is a total mish-mash. Mostly I find that I have to say things out loud or write them down before they are particularly coherent.

6.  Do you have changing weather seasons where you live, or a relatively  continuous climate? Do you wish you lived in the opposite?

I have all the seasons and I love it. Though visiting warm places when it’s cold is quite lovely.

7. When you don’t have obligations, what is your ideal, natural time to get up? To go to bed?

I’m pretty much...10:30-7? Or 10:30-8? I am a master sleeper. It’s a weird but useful superpower.

8. Do you cook? Bake? Or do you prefer to have someone else to that?

I cook and I bake. I love to do both, and while it’s nice sometimes to have someone else do the work--I love going to friends’ houses for dinner--the kitchen is genuinely one of my happy places. Yesterday I made yogurt because I felt like it.

9. Which way do you put your toilet  paper? Up and over so it hangs in front? Or dangling below? Does it  bother you if it’s done the other way?

Hangs in front, but I really don’t care that much.

10. If you had a lot of money, what would  be the first selfish, frivolous thing you would do with it? (Not for  other people, not for practical purposes, but fun and just because you  want to.)

Well, obviously, I would go on the year-long revenge tour of Australia.

Tagging anyone who wants to play! @my-little-yellowbird? @moocowmoocow @aelliots @annerbhp

[1dcraftawards]

MARCH AOM

Hello everyone! It is time to reveal who our author of the month is! They will be revealed below along with an interview we conducted with them! Hope you enjoy x

-1D Craft Awards Team

And our March Author of the Month is.....

@marisa-writes​!!!

Questions:

1. Did you start writing fanfiction for One Direction, or was there another fandom that you wrote fanfiction for before this?

Before I found my way to One Direction fanfiction, I wrote Jonas Brothers fanfiction for a few years and I loved it immensely! I wouldn’t still be writing fic to this day if not for the relationships I built in that fandom, and the love I received both from my readers and my writing friends. I’ve been sharing my writing online for about ten years now, which is crazy to me. It was my connection to people I met through JBFA that led me to eventually make my way to 1DFF, though I was a very casual reader and not a writer in the beginning. I was also a casual fan of 1D at the time, definitely into their music but not planning to dive in much beyond that. Oh, how the tables have turned...

2. How old were you when you started writing fanfiction?

In 6th grade, my friends and I used to share the joy of writing this fake gossip column between us in which we were the members of this epic girl band. We would write about all of our exploits in the band and in our fictional personal lives, where we were  - obviously - dating famous people, like members of ‘N Sync and the Backstreet Boys. In 7th grade, I wrote pages and pages of stories on loose-leaf paper about myself and my friends and threw in my celebrity crush of the moment as a love interest, so I suppose those stories were my first attempts at writing fanfiction.

This was in the early 2000s, so I didn’t really know my way around finding fanfics on the internet until a couple of years later, but aside from these self-insert stories, the first piece of fanfiction I remember writing with original characters was a Justin Timberlake one I wrote during my freshman year of high school. I kept it in a spiral that I decorated with pictures of Justin and my “face claim” - before face claims had a name - for my original character, Jamie (to show my age, her face claim was Samantha Mumba). I still have that notebook and know exactly where it is. I pull it out every once in a while to remind myself of the journey my writing has taken, because WOW, was that story bad! But I’d never be where I am if I hadn’t written it!

3. What’s been your favorite fic you’ve written to work on so far?

What a terrible question. Asking me to choose between my stories is a lot like asking me to choose between my non-existent children!

I have thoroughly enjoyed writing all of the projects I’ve shared so far, but the summer that I wrote the sangria series was like magic. Teyana and Niall came out of a couple days’ worth of me listening to one of my favorite R&B artists, Jon B., on repeat, and after one lengthy one-shot in which I’d put a lot of thought into their back-story as well as the one I was telling in that particular piece, I was a goner for them. While writing that series, I was an endless well of inspiration and I enjoyed creating those characters and spending so much time in their world.

The Different Strokes series has been the gift that keeps on giving for a few years now, and the joy that’s come from showcasing Liam and Georgia’s love for one another as their family grows has pleased me immensely.

I also feel very similarly about one of my one-shots, goodnight, good morning. Creatively, it was just an absolute joy to write and I can’t help but regard it with fondness whenever I think about it. It came out of left field for me, but my love of the stuck-in-the-elevator trope combined with my love of Liam in nice winter coats made for a piece of writing I am super proud to say I’ve written.

4. Is there a fic that you really wanted to write, but you just never did?

I have a plethora of barely-started fics that just sit taunting me in my Google Docs. The two that haunt me the most are Basketball Jones, an AU in which Liam is a point guard playing on the same university team as my OFC Tionne’s twin brother, Amari, and Roots, in which newly-solo Liam is stoked when presented with the opportunity to work with a legendary soul artist named Maurice Collins to complete his album, but the project ends up getting passed off to Maurice’s daughter Cleo instead. Both stories are the kind you wish would write themselves because you just want them to be out there in the world, you know? But alas, I suppose I have to do the work myself, and I just haven’t been able to get either project to take off just yet.

5. What’s your favorite trope to write?

ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIPS! God, I’m such a sucker for it. I know a lot of people are fans of the build-up and all the angst and heartache and reconciliation that comes with it, but I’m always the one at the end going, “So what’s next?” I love to see what happens past the happy (or sometimes, not-so-happy) ending. There is so much to be told in what happens between a pairing when they’re committed and figuring out how to be together, and I adore being able to showcase that, especially because it’s not something you see as often as other tropes in fic.

6. What’s your ideal space to write in?

I like writing in my room. It’s quiet, peaceful, my own space. Sometimes I’ll sit on my bed; other times, I like to kick back in my chair in the corner where my lights are hung - my little reading/writing/tv-watching nook - and I’ll prop my feet up on my ottoman and do some writing with a nice cup of tea. I like to be as relaxed as possible, so I can really let my mind wade through all the lines of dialogue and scenes that I want to write.

7. What inspires you to write?

All sorts of things. For many years, it was music. I used to require music playing when I wrote, but I write in silence more often than not now. Still, music is a heavy inspiration for me - there are stories to find even in the songs that don’t seem like, lyrically, they’d provide any. But the mind is a powerful thing, and so is music, and when the two work together, magic tends to happen.

I also find inspiration in the world around me, and in the things I read. I’m a big fan of studying how people interact with one another. Relationships - familial, platonic, or romantic - are fascinating to me, and I love to write about how people react to the others around them, or the environment around them. I believe certain people and places come into your life exactly when they’re meant to for reasons you may or may not understand at the time, but they’re always important in your journey, and I love to write about that.

As a black woman, having the opportunity to continuously write about black women is also a huge inspiration for me, which is something you’ll notice in looking at the original female characters I write. One of my favorite authors, Alyssa Cole, is a black woman who has written both historical and contemporary romances, and she floors me with every piece of hers that I read because the diversity she includes in every story is encompassing and feels effortless. She paints a picture of what our diverse world looks like or has looked like in the past with every novel or novella she writes, and she inspires me to use my words to share stories that feature black women of all shapes, sizes, and backgrounds at the center because it’s important to me to see incredible black women having their stories told. Alyssa’s diversity doesn’t stop at just black characters, either, which is even more marvelous to me. She’s a force to be reckoned with, and I always joke that I want to be her when I grow up, but let’s be real, I’m not joking.

8. Do you typically like to listen to music when you write? If so, what do you listen to?

I inadvertently just answered this question! Back in my must-listen-to-music days, I would put Jason Reeves’ The Magnificent Adventures of Heartache (And Other Frightening Tales…) on repeat. That album in itself tells a story from start to finish of falling in love, being in love, getting your heart broken, and starting over, and there was something in the magic of Jason’s lyrics and musicality that used to wring endless sparks of inspiration from me. Whenever I felt stuck, I would turn that album on and the words would flow. Nowadays, I tend to find comfort in the quiet, but if a particular song or collection of songs has inspired something I’ve written, like Jon B. did with sangria on your lips, or SoMo’s “For You” did with the one-shot of the same name, I’ll listen to whatever’s inspiring me on repeat.

9. Do you have any plans for any future fic ideas you’d like to pursue?

Nothing confirmed at the moment! If I could get those fics I have haunting me in my Google Docs to wander past small blurbs and vague plot ideas, that’d be wonderful. I’ll write fanfiction in this fandom as long as I’m inspired.

10. Do you have any advice for other writers in the fandom?

WRITE. FOR. YOU. Look at that again, read it over and over until it’s ingrained deep in your mind and heart. Don’t write with the goal in mind to gain ‘x’ number of readers, and don’t write to measure up to anyone else. We as writers are our own worst critics and conspiracy theorists, and we will come up with a hundred different reasons to stop writing when we’re discouraged or frustrated, or compare ourselves to others and consider them leagues above us. It is so easy to talk ourselves in circles of why we should quit because of whatever reasons we’ve decided on in that precise moment, but you know what? If you write, you started for a reason. It gave you feelings you’d never experienced before and wanted to chase so hard that they drove you to write something that came from your mind, your heart, your fingertips. Do you realize how extraordinary that is?

Nothing you write will ever mean much if you don’t write it for you. You can’t love to do this and pour your heart into your words if they aren’t ones that mean something to you. You are never going to please everyone that reads your writing, which is often a hard truth to swallow because we just want to be liked, and you will be by some! But it’s important that you write something you’ll be proud to attach your name to, because someone is going to be very pleased with it, but most importantly, you will be pleased with it. We grow and change as writers and so does our level of work, but looking back and cringing because maturity has made us better writers is not the same as looking back and cringing because what we wrote doesn’t reflect who we’ve been at any stage. Write to satisfy yourself at whatever place in life you’re in. No regrets when you look back.

11. What is your writing process like?

It very much depends on the project! One-shots are my bread and butter, and those are often things I can write in a breeze when I’m inspired. My one-shots are usually the lengthy type, more of a short-story packed into a smaller package, so writing them tends to go smoothest for me.

For my chaptered projects, or the ones that started as one-shots and turned into stories or series, it’s a slower process for me. I always have a general plot line and specific important moments in mind, but I’m not the outlining type at all - feels too stifling for me, and I like the freedom to adjust certain plot points when the process serves. If I’m full of inspiration and my life allows me the freedom to sit down and write away, I will! I’ve recently moved myself out of a life situation that was taking a lot of that creativity and peace of mind away from me, and I’m hoping to find my way back to some sort of constant stream of inspiration soon.

Author Specific:

1. Why would you say you’re more attuned to writing Liam and Niall out of all the boys? Would you ever write for Harry / Louis / Zayn?

Liam is the whole reason I wound up in this lovely mess. I became a fan of 1D’s music from the first album, but genuinely had no intention of going beyond that in terms of interest. I’d recently exited the Jonas Brothers fandom as a whole because the cattiness and pettiness of some fans was absolutely exhausting and I needed a break from fandom for a good while (or so I thought, as I eventually found myself neck-deep in the Big Time Rush fandom). Around 2013, though, Liam’s vocals, smile, and stage presence had me slowly turning into the eye emoji. And those who have known me for quite a while can probably recall the night in 2015 where I drank a lot of wine and looked at a lot of pictures of him on Tumblr and became a complete goner.

It took me a little bit to start writing about him, however. I’d been reading some 1D fic because a dear friend I’d met through JBFA had moved to writing 1D fic and I once told her I’d read Magic School Bus fanfiction if she wrote it, so I obviously followed her to 1DFF. As I became more interested in Liam, I started reading some Liam fics, trying to get a hang on his personality because at the time I wrote mainly OU and I love finding that authenticity. I also wanted to get a feel for writing characters who weren’t American, like I am. Eventually, I came up with some ideas, decided to get my feet wet, and started writing. I would say I’m attuned to writing Liam because in learning about him, I connected with him. I adore him as a person and an artist, and hardly anyone writes about him these days (which breaks my heart), so I continue to because he makes me happy and we could all use a little more Liam-centric stories in our lives.

As for Niall, I was blown away by the leaps and bounds of the growth of his vocal talent on Made in the A.M. He really shined on those songs for me, and when his solo career started rolling, I was mesmerized by the way he was going about it. Very deliberate with his choices, taking his time, warming everyone up to the magic he’d been possessing for years. I was floored by his magnetism both as a person and an artist, and it drew me to write about him. While it was completely unexpected because I’d been gone for Liam for quite some time, I don’t regret a single minute of it.

I would absolutely write for Harry, Zayn, or Louis if a story idea struck me. I actually started a Harry story that I stalled with big time because I scared myself out of confidence with the massiveness of writing a story with supernatural elements, but hey, maybe someday!

2. What is one moment from “Regarding Our Ghosts” that you never got to write but want to?

ROG, my OG baby! I’m unbelievably heartbroken that I haven’t been able to finish that fic, because it was a passion project, but it always holds such a solid place in my heart.

In the story, Liam and Lissie were meant to travel home to the UK to visit family for the winter holidays, while Nina and Macy went to see her mother, Noreen, for a few days around Christmas. Over the course of their time apart, I wanted to show how integrated their lives had started to become, with Lissie insisting that she and Liam buy presents for Macy and Nina to give when they returned, and Noreen inquiring after the father-and-daughter pair that Macy couldn’t stop talking about during their visit.

Once Liam returned, he was to drop by Nina’s to catch up with her and see if she needed some help with shoveling snow from the drive. There was a moment in which they laughed and joked and Liam’s laughter made Nina realize how much she’d missed him and it absolutely terrified her because she didn’t have the capacity to put a name to that feeling just yet. There’s a little snippet I wrote on an index card at the place where I used to tutor because it struck me mid-lesson, and I carried that index card in my wallet for years. It went:

He laughs, and oh—oh. His laugh. She missed his laugh. She missed this. She missed Liam.

The feeling settles low in the pit of her stomach, goopy and sweet, and she doesn’t know what to make of it. In her mind, there are little compartments where she sorts out her thoughts and emotions, and as she tries to sort this—that she missed Liam—she can’t. She doesn’t know where to put it.

So she lets it churn in her gut, thickening like a rue, until she can make up her mind.

It was such an important moment for them - a turning point, for Nina at least, realizing that this man she and her daughter had come to rely on in certain ways could be more than just a friend to her. That her feelings could be stronger, and she could maybe feel something for someone again after convincing herself she’d be happy alone if that’s what was meant for her.

Man, I miss that story something fierce, but it stays with me every day.

3. What is one thing you wish you would’ve known before you started writing 1d fic?

That I would get in this deep. Ha. No, honestly, I’m glad that I didn’t have any expectations going in. That’s the best. You learn as you go. Similar to my time writing Jonas Brothers fic, I’ve built some pretty great friendships that I never would have if I hadn’t started writing 1D fic. I even made connections with people who read my Jonas Brothers fanfics but we’d never spoken until I started reading and writing 1D fic!

I’m grateful for the people this has brought into my life, and the opportunity I’ve had to go into this fandom and spend more time honing my craft and getting to shine a light on people of color in my stories, black women specifically. We are so often missing from fiction and that is true from the fanfiction world to the romance novels I read, but our stories are so important and real and as needed as everyone else’s, so I am excited beyond belief that I’ve been able to create several black female characters that have reached out and touched readers of all kinds. I’ve also been able to connect to other authors of color who, like me, write about people who look and think and live like them, and the sense of being seen as a person of color is overwhelming. I hope to see more of it in the future.

4. Who has been your favorite OFC to write? Why?

I’m gonna cheat a bit here because it’s a three-way toss-up between Georgia, Rolly, and Teyana.

Georgia means the world to me because in my previous fandom, I wrote a lot of white OFCs because that was just...what I saw and experienced, and to be honest, I didn’t really think about it much at first. Writing white characters was the “norm”. After a while, I noticed that in seeking out characters who looked like me, I encountered a lot of storylines that featured racism as a conflict between x Jonas Brother’s family and the OFC. It was hard to find stories in which characters were just human beings who happened to be black and faced conflict that had nothing to do with their race. So, I decided to write a story in which that was the case. It opened up my eyes to what I’d been failing to focus on, something that became super important to me the more I reflected on it: seeing black characters represented realistically and in a positive light in fanfiction.

When I eventually came to write 1D fic, I made a very conscious choice to feature black women at the center of my stories, and Georgia was the first. Through her, I was able to show a successful black woman who had started a family with the man she loved, and I was able to showcase little moments of Georgia’s experiences as a black woman that Liam had to learn about, like why she wrapped her hair at night. It sounds like such a small thing, but that was big for me - I couldn’t recall ever seeing that in the writing I’d read thus far, a black woman wrapping her hair at night, so I wrote it. Soon, I had readers coming to me who could relate and said they hadn’t seen it, either. I’ve also had non-black readers who have expressed how much they like the fact that I write about black women, that they enjoy reading stories that focus on people of color. The whole experience has been so moving for me.  It’s made me realize that I am not only doing something I love, but also doing something important.

Rolly Marshall is, in many ways, a reflection of me. I conjured her up when I was a few months into my first year of teaching and overwhelmed, tired, and frustrated beyond belief. She was an escape. I could channel all of the things I loved and dreaded about my job into her and her life, and it was like lifting a weight off my shoulders. Rolly loves her job, like I did, but her experience was one that I created to be more positive than the one I experienced, which has made it both easy and hard to write about her at times. But more than our mutual connection through education, I love Rolly because she feels so genuine to me. She’s awkward and kind-hearted and funny and a good friend to the people in her life. She’s just a good egg. I love her spirit and her humor and that’s a big part of what’s made her such a joy to write. I didn’t expect many people to latch on to her because how many people could really relate to a second grade teacher? To my great surprise, many.

Teyana surprised me with my attachment to her. She and Niall were meant to be a one-time thing, much like Liam and Georgia, but seeing as how those two turned into an eighteen-part thing PLUS a throwback mini-fic, I should’ve known better. It was while I was writing sangria on your lips that I found myself thinking about who Teyana was before she and Niall met. I couldn’t stop thinking about where she came from, building her past. She comes from a single parent home where her father raised her after her mom left. She carries scars from that, from the abandonment she felt when her mom moved on without so much as a single moment to look back. She clung to her Papi and his Cuban culture and grew up with the lessons he instilled in her, including one she taught herself from watching his heart break: that maybe there was no great “one” for her. But that changes when she meets Niall, who challenges everything she thought she could gain from a relationship. He’s truly a partner to her. He has a glimpse into what life is like when your parents aren’t together anymore, so he’s empathetic to what she feels in regards to her mom. He loves her unconditionally. He’s her match, and after years of convincing herself she may never find her match and she’ll be okay with that, Niall is a pleasant surprise, and honestly, he restores her faith in love. She learns she doesn’t need anyone else to make her life complete - her Papi raised her to find that completion all on her own - but having someone to share her life with is a pleasure she’s more than grateful to have.

5. Which one of your fic boys was your favorite to write? Why?

Different Strokes Liam has been my all-time favorite. He’s driven and passionate about his work, completely committed to his family, and there’s a warmth, humor, and sexiness to him that has made him so much fun to write since I began. I love that I can paint him as a complete and utter sop in one piece, a classic romantic in another, and a confident master of seduction in the next. He’s confident and often sure of himself but not immune to insecurities. He’s got different facets, and I love getting to focus on each one at different times as the series shifts.

The Different Strokes series was something that spawned from what was supposed to be a stand-alone one-shot, but I found myself attached to the little family I built for Liam, Georgia, and their son Carter, and my mind expanded upon writing little snippets of them - glimpses of them as Carter grew, as their lives changed, as their family expanded. I am a big fan of established relationships, and I grew so attached to watching Liam mature and change as both a father and a husband. Liam in real life seems to have such a compassionate heart, and before he even became a father, I had a good feeling that he would be a great one and getting to write about him as both a father to his children and a partner to his wife has been such a joy. And with Checkpoints, my mini-fic in the series, I’ve been able to go back to when he and Georgia first met and began seeing each other and it’s been nothing but fun to write!

If not for DS Liam, I wouldn’t have fallen as in love with writing 1D fic as I have, so I am grateful every day for the opportunity I’ve had to expand upon his character and the incredible life he’s built for himself. Writing him has led to writing many other projects that I adore, and I can’t wait to see what’s next for me as a writer.