#it’s patheticing absolute fallacy

[slowd1ving]

TALES OF A DISGRUNTLED CORVID ⁺ 　 . MOZE

Quite frankly, you've been assigned an absolute loser (unaffectionate) to work with after your dramatic exit from the Intelligentsia Guild. Whoever said this guy was too silent was wrong, as he verily proves himself as the bane of your existence with his ceaseless yapping. art credits to @code_tesseract on x!! and tagging @ilovechuuy4 as requested :3 pairings: moze + male cryptologist reader (will be part of a series methinks) warnings: male reader, mentions of assassination? may be a touch ooc since this is pre-release writing unfortunately, lowkey crack fic, pre relationship, business partnership of hating each other wc: 1.9k

HONKAI STAR RAIL MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

There’s never a dull day when a certain Shadow Guard is your partner for an assignment. Truly, your life always sparkles brilliantly when the information pings on your Jade Abacus; without fail, everything gains just a bit more colour, a bit more vivaciousness. Pathetically fallacious, you might’ve described it as had you taken literature classes: mood hued with such dynamic chromaticity that you fear you might explode into little prismic rainbows. Always such a bundle of joy to be geminate with him. 

“Must you be so… disorganised?”

Oh, who are you kidding.

It’s always a dull day when you’re paired with Moze.

“Get out.” A particularly rude gesture materialises in your open hand as you stare at the door he practically kicked down. Apartments in this particular sector of the Xianzhou Yaoqing do not come cheap, and you half-wonder whether he’d eke out coin to console your landlord. Then, with an especially sour, lemon-like expression, you realise he would fork out his own money just to make your life more difficult. 

When you first got assigned work in the Yaoqing (read: kicked to the curb by the Intelligentsia Guild to gain real world experience), you really did expect your tenure to be plain office work. Letters, forms, public relations—these mundanities you anticipated. In fact, you would’ve relished such tedium; after decrypting endless scientific formulae and pondering your mysterious tomes, engaging in bureaucratic matters would be a piece of cake! A little treat for your weary eyes—if you closed them, you could still see faint imprints of equations in the theatre of your mind. 

But what you hadn’t factored into your (ahem) calculations was just how sharp the Arbiter-General Feixiao was: just how passionate she was about pursuing Abominations and ruthlessly eliminating them, just how frank and swift the Madam General was. You also forgot that out of all the flagships, the Yaoqing were one of the most militarily driven. A blunder most fatal. 

“Thy talents would be wasted in the mere administrative wing,” Feixiao gesticulated. “Come, child, put thy brain and brawn to use and track down these villainous curs most evil.”

“Goodness, Madam General!” you’d cried out pitifully. “My heart is thine for the keeping!”

Or something like that. Actually, it may have not all been like that. 

After all, you were kicked out (temporarily! temporarily!) partly due to your penchant for delivering heart-rendering performances to your professors to avoid taking on their extra work. Such moving renditions, that they had to let you go lest you broke their bleeding hearts. Had you known you’d be working in the shady corners of intelligence and decryption, you would’ve kowtowed to the Guild for utmost forgiveness. Probably. 

When your path first overlapped with the Shadow Guards’, you honestly couldn’t give two hoots about the rumours that followed silently behind their own noiseless steps. Your ears had perked somewhat at the gossip your colleagues threw back and forth—though, who could blame you. The job was no fun!

Weirdo with the crow feathers, they’d murmured. He’s so quiet. What a reticent chap. 

Of course, you’d disagree, and perhaps tack on a loser to the descriptions of Moze. You’d disagree not with the ‘weirdo’, but rather with the quiet and reticent adjectives—partly because he really does need to shut up more. 

And he needs to stick to his rumours more. If this loner’s made it a point to not work with people, then why oh why did the honourable Madam General decide your ancient science and study complemented his shady skillset? And why oh why does he never refuse her request? (You’ve conveniently forgotten how you always fold when it comes to her.) You’ve always worked alone too, for as long as you can remember; decoding the ancient equations in ruins and solving their gimmicky puzzles using your boundless wits is a job for one. 

As it stands, the people he investigates, the work he takes care of, sometimes intrudes into the realm of questionable rituals and summonings the Abominations and their ilk oft partake in. Thus do you find your career verging into some gruesome form of forensics as you stare down what would commonly be considered a murder scene: sigils and ancient alchemical algebra staring right back at you. He deals with the human aspect of intelligence: the psychology, the crime, the covert espionage. You deal with the technical fallout: the analysis of antique sciences is your specialty, after all. This has culminated in a begrudging partnership where both parties wish nothing more than to leave it. 

A business relationship, of sorts, founded on the mutual dislike (a weak description) of each other. 

“No.” He doesn’t budge from where he leans against the doorframe, but he does have the decency to swing the door closed behind him. Yet, it’s not out of any respect for the hallowed sanctity of your abode, but more because he’s sooo Mysterious and Aloof that none of your neighbours are allowed to view his visage. 

“You are—” a quick glance at your watch proves your point. For someone obsessed with keeping tidy, he sure does have messy time management. “—eighteen minutes too early.”

“And you still aren’t ready,” he counters, pointedly eyeing the loose shirt and comfortable cotton trousers slung over your hips. You yawn, tired already from his yapping. He’s been compared to a crow for as long as you’ve been here—and perhaps far longer—but to you he’s always been more like a little dog. Yap. Yap. Yap. 

This is precisely why I don’t work with others, you can almost taste his words—his thoughts. 

“You are currently the biggest hindrance to my getting ready,” you grimace. Casting a quick glance over his intricate garb, it’s no wonder he feels getting ready is such a lengthy endeavour: all straps and buckles and tough layers that makes him the walking fortress he is. “I’ll be on time.”

He doesn’t reply: laconic only when he acknowledges your point as unequivocally right, which is seldom. 

“Are you going to keep staring?” you snap as you sling the worn shirt from your body. Beneath the soft clothes is muscle hard-won through your frequent collaborations with the Armed Archaeologists in the Guild: days filled with more sparring and their stupid callisthenics than actually finding ruins. 

“Do you have to dress right here?” he counters, but it’s a futile argument—this apartment is barely big enough for you as it stands. Currently, he’s situated by the doorway, but you’re on the unseen boundaries of the living room and the tiny kitchen. Beyond is your bedroom and miniscule bathroom, of which neither have enough space to move comfortably to change. And you certainly aren’t going to sacrifice your comfort to appease his poor eyes; he’s seen worse for sure. Though, you doubt he’s ever seen a naked body that wasn’t in the context of assassination and the anatomy classes you know he’s meticulously attended for his shady work. Surreptitiously, you snicker at the thought: that there aren’t any lovers lined up for this weirdo. 

You toss the garment onto your couch, precisely because you know he’s grinding teeth over it; and there’s that tell-tale click of molar against molar. You even whistle a bit as you untie the neat bow holding your trousers to your hips; the fabric pools on the floor, and you don’t make any move to pick it up. 

There it is. His glower—red-hot and piercing through the flesh and sinew of your back—is heavy in this small space. What you don’t see, however, is how his eyes flicker briefly across your body, down the firm step of your legs as you step out of the trousers. Out of context, watching muscle ripple and twist as you strip forces crimson to seep into his face. This is an implication he’s absolutely disgusted with—with you. 

“If you have any more input as to what I do in my home, you’re welcome to pay my rent first,” you finally deign to reply, rummaging in the dresser in your hallway—which he knows has never been neat with all the clothes spilling from the edges. His eye twitches. 

“You’re an incorrigible man,” he retorts, carmine flush now from irritation rather than anything else. Irritation from the beginning, because it was never anything else. 

“Wow,” you blink, weighing your options between shirt A and shirt B. The cherry-red with straps, or the Prussian blue with straps, you muse, holding the shirts against your beloved grey cargoes. “You sound exactly like my professor. Same adjective and everything.”

When it comes to shameless people, there comes the very real risk of insults being nullified by the insulted through them simply agreeing. 

“No wonder the Guild kicked you out.” As you’re pulling the scarlet fabric over your head, you pause—it seems he’s finally hit a nerve. There’s a rare smile toying with his lips at the victory: one he doesn’t notice, but ghosts across his face nonetheless.

Now, there are many things you could reply to that with. Such as, did your parents give you a reason when they abandoned you? Nay, that is too low of a blow. No wonder you don’t have any friends. But he probably grapples with that bitter reality each morning, gnashing his teeth and beating his chest. 

“Bold of you to speak of being unwanted,” you comment matter-of-factly. Both insults it is then, wrapped neatly into an ambiguous tale of these eight words. His smile fades. 

With a slight gasp, you finally wrangle the tight material on—it’s armour, after all, a specific textile development by the Yaoqing for the protection of civilians and tourists alike, though you aren’t considered a tourist by your special work-abacus-plaque. It fits snugly against you: straps for knives sit tight against your forearms, while the harness that provides extra support for your torso rests neatly beneath your chest. The garb’s almost like a compression shirt from your home planet, except the Yaoqing has far more violent uses for it. 

“Didn’t Guard Zhí reject you?” He bites out, and it takes a minute for you to realise he’s talking about Zhí Hua, the best friend you’d made on the flagship—and your Shadow Guard drinking buddy. 

“Huh?” Dumbfoundedly, you pause in doing the buckles on your trousers, losing far more time than you’d bargained for. “A-hua is my friend.”

The diminutive doesn’t go unnoticed, which rankles him far more than falling prey to the rumour about you and his fellow Guard. No, both rankle him—likely because hearing about a workplace romance about you just disgusts him in general. 

“Pfft,” you snort out, finally done with the laborious task of adjusting the materiel and various other gadgets attached to your body. “I have got to tell her about this. Who knew your ability to gather information would be stopped by a rumour?”

The tightness in his chest lessens somewhat. 

“Besides, everyone already knows my heart belongs to the Madam General,” you sigh, clasping your hands to your chest in a dreamy gesture. It’s an ongoing joke: you professing your deep adoration of Feixiao after she gives you a pay raise for putting up with the so-called ‘reticent’ Moze. “Woah, what’s with the sour look?”

“Gross,” he mutters. 

As you step near the doorway to grab your boots, you lean into his space mockingly: and he recoils back in even more revulsion. 

“Of course, you wouldn’t know.” You pat his shoulder once, condescendingly, then promptly slip your heavy boots off the shelf. “Since there’s no one who loves you.”

And his glare as you shuffle your shoes on is poignant. 

 ₊  ⋆   ☾

[coquelicoq]

just finished my rewatch so i am here to bring you the important fax, such as:

how many dramatic thunderstorms take place over the course of 40 episodes of the double?

the answer may surprise you!

episode 1. the og. xue fangfei is buried alive by her husband, who then goes in for a lil psychological torture courtesy of the princess. meanwhile, su-guogong kicks down the door of a contraband salt warehouse and does a sick spin onto the back of a chair completely unnecessarily. for the aesthetic. you really get your bang for your buck with this one because it also features in at least ELEVEN separate flashbacks in later episodes (episodes 4, 7, 9 (three FBs), 11, 13, 17, 24, 27, and 32, to be specific).

episode 7. shen yurong comes to the jiang residence to give "jiang li" an entrance exam for fancy pants academy. she drops hella hints to her true identity and keeps bringing up how much it sucked to be abandoned on that mountain :) while a storm rages around them much akin to the one that made the whole live burial thing especially dramatic. as if being buried alive needed additional pathos.

episode 13. xue fangfei is called before the jiang family tribunal because she's got some explaining to do about what happened at the palace banquet (where, if you recall, jiang ruoyao attempted to set her up to be violated and disgraced, and instead found their cousin in bed with jry's fiance). of course our girl wipes the floor with these amateurs. she's bringing melodramatic precipitation to the table, and what do they have, a face wound? god's least favorite soldier (the concubine's son)? please. you gotta get up earlier in the morning than that to pull one over on this fake ex-nun.

episode 14. this one is maybe the funniest to me from a doylist perspective because it's just one single thunderclap/lightning bolt right after the emperor says to xiao heng, the princess hates you. she might even try...to KILL YOU. like bro this is not news to anybody lol. but at least the universe has a sense of dramatic timing. there is no other sign of this storm, not even rainfall, in any other part of the episode...the emperor summoned a stormcloud just for that one sentence and then was like okay i got what i needed, run along now.

episode 17. wins the award for cutest rainstorm. a drunk xue fangfei holds xiao heng's cheeks very insistently between her hands, looking up into his eyes as rain falls in her face. he takes off his utterly sodden cloak and wraps it around her shoulders, surely doing absolutely nothing w/r/t keeping her dry but at least seeming very tender about it. the rain is obviously integral to the scene, but i think the thunder and lightning are mainly here because someone involved with this production really likes thunder and lightning. we also get a flashback to this one in...

episode 18. the metaphorical masturbation scene (xue fangfei lies in a tub artfully draped in fabric nuzzling the soft petals of a rose while xiao heng does half-naked swordplay dripping with rain). again i think somebody was just having a lot of fun with the thunderstorm effects on set that day. rain would have been sufficient, but if there's one thing you can say about this show, it's that everyone involved agreed that "sufficient" will not suffice. we are not here to regular-ass things. we are here to double- or even triple-ass them. and when in doubt on how to achieve that, add some fucking meteorological event. some kind of audiovisual spectacle. it's literally coming down from the heavens. what, are we gonna ask for subtlety? from this show? not if we know what's good for us.

episode 20. xue fangfei has just asked the auntie down the street in huaixiang to testify on her father's behalf, getting down on her knees and begging, only to have the door shut in her face. ouch. if that's not prime time for some rain to mingle with her tears, her surroundings reflecting her inner state, i don't know what is. it's giving textbook pathetic fallacy.

episode 25. ji shuran meets with the imperial diviner who turns out to be her long lost lover she thought she had successfully burned to death!!! (ohhh sidenote i am just now getting the jsr-syr parallel with this.) honestly if they had neglected to punctuate this scene with thunder and lightning i would have been metaphorically holding the back of my hand up to the production's forehead to check for fever. it would not be a sign of health, given this show's general baseline.

episode 27. xue fangfei meets with jiang yuanbai's concubine, hu-yiniang, trying to convince her to help xue fangfei fuck ji shuran's shit right up. the weather didn't help her recruit the huaixiang auntie, but it works like a charm on auntie hu. (i'm choosing to believe the weather is a sentient entity and it's showing up to drench xue fangfei like a wet cat at irregular intervals like ⛈ im helping 🥰)

episode 28. the exorcism. fuck yes there's a thunderstorm during the exorcism. what are we even doing here if the showdown between olympic-grade synchronized charlatan choreography and mad-with-grief-mother-approved creepy ventriloquism isn't punctuated by bolts of lightning? don't waste my time. perfectly timed thunderclaps or gtfo.

episode 29. gotta have some thunder and lightning while visiting the tombstone of your brother who isn't actually dead (but you don't know that). definitely gotta have some rain so your crush can show up out of nowhere and lovingly hold an umbrella over your head. that's just basic science. step 4.7 of the water cycle.

episode 30. xue fangfei comes to the academy to rehearse the duet for the zhao envoy and dun dun dunnnn...only shen yurong is there!!! i am feeling distinctly menaced, but on her behalf, or on his? hard to say. on the one hand, he did attempted-murder her. on the other hand, she's xue fucking fangfei and he's the chump who attempted-murdered her. sweet dreams, bucko.

episode 35. consort li visits the princess in an attempt to get her diagnosed with Pregnancy...out of wedlock!! lots of thunder but no lightning until shen yurong shows up afterward and is like, hey honey i figured out how to solve this problem, just marry this totally other dude 👍 wanning is Not having a good day and the weather got the memo.

episode 39. what would u even do if ur lover poisoned you & took that opportunity to rescue his ex-wife from ur dungeon & walked out holding her in a bridal carry (after using knockout gas on her, natch) & when he saw u he tenderly placed her down out of the rain? what would u do if u had the hairpin u thought he had given u as a sincere token of love and commitment & this hairpin was sharp enough to impale a person & u could put it in his hand pointed toward u & then u could pull his hand right into ur abdomen? WHAT WOULD U DO if all this was the case BUT THERE WAS NO THUNDER AND LIGHTNING WHILE THIS WAS GOING DOWN?? i think i would just NOT impale myself on my own hairpin using my traitorous lover's hand. out of PIQUE. i know weather patterns are driven by atmospheric forces or whatever but come on man. that would just be rude. so thankfully the weather showed up to give the princess the dramatic accompaniment her iconic death scene deserved. she died as she lived: dangerous, vulnerable, electrifying. i'm buying the effects people a round for this one. they made it count.

so, 14 individual thunderstorms, plus at least 10 flashbacks* to one of those thunderstorms, for (at minimum) 24 total scenes featuring thunderstorms in 40 episodes. *(i say "at least" because i probably missed some. and there are 12 FBs mentioned in this post, but two of them were being remembered while another thunderstorm was taking place, so their scenes have already been included in the count of 24.) and that is not even counting 1) lightning in an imaginary what-if scene in episode 6 in which xiangqiao (one of jsr's planted servants) says "if i'm lying, strike me with lightning!" or 2) the magical lightning strikes that jiang ruoyao and/or xue fangfei may or may not create during the guqin exam cgi extravaganza in episode 11 (kinda hard to tell if that was lightning or not). if you count those too you start to wonder if the crew was getting some kind of bulk discount on lightning bolts from the lightning bolt factory...but that's none of my business 😌

[melithril]

[Adar] - Rainfall

♫ - Safe With Me - Izakaru

main masterlist | blog playlist

A/N: Sorry for being MIA, I went to watch Sam last night in Coriolanus and it was incredible! Any of you in London please go watch if you can, it's so worth it! Anyway, I'm back to regular programming hopefully, please enjoy!! <3

Taking a long breath in, you sat bolt upright in your bed. Your eyes were wide, and your skin was sweaty but cold to the touch. It was rare for bad dreams to plague your sleep, though when they came, they were awful. Letting yourself calm for a moment by taking a deep breath in, your eyes glanced to your right, where your lover often lay. Hoping this one time you would find him there, such a thing was not the case.  Instead, you found that side of the bed empty and made up, suggesting he had not been here all night. Slipping out of bed, you let your feet carry you to where you knew he would be.

Often late at night, Adar could be found behind his desk working away on plans and various bits of business he had to attend to. Sometimes it piled up on him, and it meant long nights trying to figure the mess out. Tonight was one of those nights, and as Adar sat in front of all the paperwork, his mind drifted to you. How he wanted nothing more than to be with you now, in bed, doing absolutely anything but this. He drifted into a sort of daydream, distracted at the thought of being able to hold you and kiss you now. It did not last, and just as quickly as he fell in, he was pulled back out. 

A knock was heard at his door. Adar placed his head into his hands, assuming it was one of his uruk's with more news he really cared not for at this moment in time. 

"Come," he called, trying to hide the exasperation in his voice. 

"I hope I'm not bothering you," came your reply, your own voice meek and quiet. 

Adar's head shot up, clearly not expecting you to be out at such a time. He felt the same feeling in his stomach as he always felt upon seeing you; the joy, the happiness, and as usual you looked gorgeous, despite having woken up merely minutes ago. From past experience, he knew you probably couldn't sleep, which wasn't good for you but he was welcoming of your company all the same. 

"My star, is everything alright?" Adar questioned with concern. It always had warmed your heart when he voiced his worries for you. It showed you how much he truly cared.

You hadn't answered, and so Adar stood and made his way over. Reaching and towering above you, he place his hands on your shoulders, and you lift your head to look up at him. Your tear-stained face was enough to convince him something was wrong, as well as your inability to look him in the eye. Saddened that you were not okay, he pulled you over to his chair to sit with him. You sat on his lap, legs thrown over one side of him as he held you bridal style, safe and secure. You buried your face into his neck as he ran his hand through your hair to calm you.

"Whatever is the matter, starlight?"

Taking a moment to answer, Adar gave you all the space in the world. He knew that now you needed comfort, and to exist in his company, and so he would not pressure you for an answer. He was content upon seeing you unharmed. 

"I had a nightmare, Adar. I know it sounds silly to come to you simply for one bad dream, but I didn't know what else to do."

Adar shook his head.

"Look at me, my love," he spoke, and you rose your head to look him in the eye. "Nothing such as this is silly. I am glad you sought me out, for I would not want you to bear such feelings alone. You know I am and always have been here to scare those thoughts away."

"But," you started, sniffling a little. "You are so busy, and-"

"I am never too busy for you. I never will be. Whatever I have going on will always be second to you, in your time of need or not. You come first. Now, how can I help?"

As if by some manner of pathetic fallacy, a clap of thunder rang through the air, and rain began to fall heavily outside. You could hear the taps against the window as you curled closer into Adar, taking in the warmth he radiated. 

"Can I stay with you here?"

He smiled. "For as long as you need to."

You sat with him in the same position, his arms enclosing you in a house of safety, a place wherein no bad could ever come to you. All of those thoughts, those feelings, the memory of your nightmare had fizzled out, and right now you were left with a warm feeling as you listened to the rise and fall of Adar's chest. You counted his heartbeat in attempt to calm yourself entirely, and paid attention to the light, fleeting kisses placed atop your head. 

Tiredness began to overcome you and could feel the realms of sleep drawing in, but you spoke anyway with a slight drawl in your voice.

"Thank you, Adar. For everything, for always being there no matter what."

Adar chuckled a little, and with his finger and thumb had tilted your head up to look at him. He took a moment, taken aback by how you looked in his arms. Your hair was messy, still unkempt from your having woken up the first time, and your face was bathed in the pale glow of the moonlight. Never had he seen a more beautiful sight than you in this moment. 

"You need never thank me for this, starlight. All I ask of you is that you allow me to love you and for you to be here when I wake each day. I will always be here to fight those dreams for you."

You simply stared up at him with adoration. How you had fallen so far in love with Adar you knew not, but each day you fell further and further into what seemed like a bottomless pit. Not that you were complaining, far from it. You thanked whatever powers were at be in the universe that had flung you towards him, and you were grateful that you were granted the chance to love him in his entirety. 

Never had you loved someone so much, and never had you been loved so much in return. 

Leaning up, you ran kisses along Adar's jaw, earning a small hum of appreciation from him. Reaching his lips, Adar wasted no time in pressing his own to yours, a sweet kiss that never deepened. It remained soft, gentle and kind. Pulling away, you smiled up at the uruk you loved so dearly. Your head came once again to rest on his chest, your arms lazily around his middle as he sat in his chair. He kept you close to him, taking a breath to savour this moment. 

"You should rest now, my love. It is already late." Adar's tone was somewhat serious. 

You had a worried look on your face, which he had quelled immediately. 

"Do not worry, I will let no harm come to you. I will be here, those dreams are gone now, it is just you and I. Listen to the rainfall outside, I know it is your favourite. Listen to how it falls, the rhythms and patterns."

And so, you did, not convinced you would be able to fall asleep so soon. Your mind honed into the taps on the window, as well as the small crackle of fire behind you both. In addition to the rain, you could also hear the drum of his heart as he sat with you. The ambient noise of the rain paired with how cozy you felt in his arms, there was little that could plague your mind and keep you from drifting off any time now. 

A few minutes had passed, and after feeling you get a little heavier against him, Adar spoke to you with a voice low like a whisper. 

"Beautiful, are you alright?"

No answer. Adar smiled. You were asleep. 

Adar turned his focus to his work, deciding to get a little more in whilst he still could. He also did not want to disturb your position, finding it amusing and, dare he say, adorable how quickly you could sleep with him. He knew it was because you felt safe with him, and he reveled in knowing that you felt that safe in his arms. As he began to organise his papers, his free hand stroked your hair, before he placed a kiss to your head.

"Sleep well, my starlight. I will be here for you, always."

Thank you for reading! <3

[inabsolutions]

hanahaki au

calebmc hanahaki au where mc only realizes she's been in love w caleb when she starts coughing up petals at his funeral cw: pseudocest

Contrary to expectations, it does not rain on the day of the funeral. You wish it would, if only to lessen the blow. To have the wind howl with your heart, to have the rain batter the ground with the same rage and grief that threaten to drown you. However, unlike the horrendously bad films you’ve always forced Caleb to watch with you in high school, there is no stereotypical storm that thunders over the horizon in pathetic fallacy. 

As though to spite you even more than it already has, the world denies you the camaraderie you sought from the skies. The weather remains pleasant, sunny days forecasted for the entirety of the next five days, Expect skies and abundant sunshine over the next few days, folks, it’s gearing up to be a beautiful week for outdoor walks.

You don’t want a beautiful week, not when there’s no one to walk next to you, you don’t want to be outdoors. Not here. You wish you were anywhere but here. This cemetery, with its neatly lined graves. But the tombstones have already been struck into the ground, the flowers thrown over their stone feet, and any memories shared with the dead have been remembered and said. 

The service has completed, and everyone else has dispersed to the wind like dandelion seeds carrying the hope for a brighter tomorrow—was that how the speech went? You can’t recall. It hadn’t been you who spoke. Instead, you’d stood there, dazed, and remembered how on a bright day just like this, you’d taken the hose in the backyard and shoved a thumb over the opening so that the water spurted and went absolutely everywhere, even yourself, but most of all Caleb because he’d gone and teased you over this or other, it’s hard to recall exactly what when there’s so many little jokes shared between the both you like halved cookies, split popsicles, shared soda cans, and Caleb had yelped before diving for you, and you’d shrieked and kicked and giggled until your lungs felt as though they’d collapse.

All of it, then. None of it, now. 

It’s a different sort of collapse you feel now. The funeral-goers, now shed of their mourning, have gone off to do who knows what—less dreary things than mourning the dead, likely, on this pleasant day. This unabating sunshine against your throat, heating up this silver necklace into a searing band. 

You scratch at your throat, wanting to tear the damned weight of the pendant off but unable to lose what little contact you have with what little Caleb has left you—so little, everything so little and diminished, where is he—and what comes away in the fruitless endeavour is specks of broken skin underneath chipped nails, spotted red—

Your eyes shutter at the violent colour, crimson flames dancing in the distance, ashes still flickering against your skin as you shoved your hands into the embers to find someone, anyone, a little girl sprinting through the bloody streets again, Gran, Caleb? Ge, where are you? Say something, it’s not funny! We’re not playing hide and seek, Caleb, gege, where are you—

The birds chirp. In the undulating pitch of their melody, for the briefest of seconds, he says, “Why the long face, pips?”

You stumble, caught off guard. You whip your head up. Through the shadows of the branches, the birds scatter. What they take with them is not just the air beneath their wings, but the last vestiges of your family. Your brother’s voice, gone with the wind. 

Your throat closes in, making it hard to breathe.

The realization comes slowly. And so does the itch. A fluttering sensation tickling the inside of your throat, and you scratch and scratch and scratch your neck but find no relief. You choke on the overwhelming loss of it all—and that’s when the cough starts. It explodes from the back of your mouth and does not stop, even as the force behind the cough increases until it feels like you’re about to hack out a shriveled lung.

You bowl over. You can’t help it. And all of a sudden, like the burst of a ripe berry shoved into your mouth—Caleb, not again! I’m not a baby, I can eat the strawberries by myself, why do you insist on feeding me like that— a strange taste floods your mouth in a flurry of sickly sweet rust. You put a hand to your mouth, spittles of saliva and what feels like the lining of your throat splattering onto your palm with your coughing fit, and by the time you remove your hand, the wetness staining your hand is a mottled pattern of red and pink. Petals, streaked with blood. Crabapple blossoms. 

The flowers. They’ve rooted in you. The disease of the lovesick.

When did this happen? When did they invade your lungs? 

Won't you put it on for me? Caleb had asked you before, under these same flowers. The sky burned blue behind him, and your face had flushed with how he dipped his head toward you. There had been an unfamiliar emotion then, just like how it is now, just like how it has been for the past decade that you’ve lived with him, every time he smiled and ruffled your hair and spoke in that low voice with you, Why? Because I’m your gege, of course.

The sudden hot streaks down your face is familiar now. 

“Ge,” you wept, and there is no one to answer. The only thing left is his name on that tombstone, stone and cold and unfeeling. Who is left to let you sneak a cookie past him every time he baked? Who is left to indulge you in your demands? 

You had caught his smile once, when he hadn’t realized you’d been looking. It was in the glass window of a store you’d been walking past, and when you glanced in the reflection, you saw him looking at you. The violet-orange of his eyes stared at you, and quirked on his lips was a strange smile, one you’d never seen before but made your heart arrhythmic. You put a hand to your chest, panicked, and Caleb immediately switched into concerned brother mode, and he said—

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

It’s Caleb’s voice behind you, but you know it’s not him, not really. You hear him, but it’s only the haunting delusion of him, a ghost that exists in the shattered space you call your mind. 

You walked past that convenience store just yesterday and in the glass window, you saw no one but yourself. You cough again, and the flowers scrape the back of your mouth before they flutter out in a shower of petals. 

“Caleb,” you say, and the three words you want to say are stuck in your throat, trapped in place by the cancerous mass of buds that have flowered in the diseased branches of your lungs.

When? When did this start? When he first found you in that shelter? When he folded a thousand cranes just to see you smile? When you’d jumped from the window and he caught you with his Evol and took you to see the planes, Bye bye, T-93? 

You look to the tombstone for an answer, the name there, and realize: It didn’t matter when. There will be no confessions, no chance of reciprocation or rejection.

Regardless of when it started, it’s too late now. 

After all, there hadn’t even been a chance to say goodbye. 

[themattress]

The Ben 10 sequels: Doomed from the Start

Dwayne McDuffie's series bible for Alien Force (then Hero Generation) opens as such:

First off, a note that we see in this bible that the Highbreed were originally called the DNAliens, and the DNAliens called the Hybrids. The names essentially got swapped in the finished Alien Force. Secondly, note the mission statement of "gather and train a team of other teenage heroes". This was Cartoon Network's core idea for a sequel series...and as we ended up seeing, giving it to Glen Murakami and Dwayne McDuffie didn't end up working out in terms of this concept, since it took a backseat to other stuff and didn't really factor into much aside from the "War of the Worlds" two-parter. Finally, "energy-controlling" Gwen and "matter-absorbing" Kevin is already a huge red flag for the retcons that are to be applied.

Why did "10" become "Ten" all of a sudden?

Also, if it's X-Files and Scooby Doo, it's....not "classic Ben 10"".

Wait, if they're all teenagers, how is Ben passing on knowledge to a "new generation"?

"Character behavior must always be motivated, and actions must always have consequences". What the fuck happened!? Because that's not the show we got!

"DNAngels"???

LOL, these typos.

OK, which is it? Is he a rogue with a heart of gold or is he an unrepentant selfish schemer!?

Also, note that it said he only recently escaped the Null Void. That sure was retconned.

Once again, this "team" plotline was dropped completely in the actual series.

Also, "intergalactic law-enforcement organization". IDK where McDuffie got this from, because in the OS it was quite blatantly a human organization. They had help from aliens sometimes like Xylene and the Sludgepuppies, but otherwise it was entirely Earth-based.

In the actual show, Max "dies" 6 episodes in, we only get 4 episodes dealing with "Plumber's Kids" and Ben does not train them, and the Highbreed and DNAliens don't get quite as many appearances as one might think they would. Well, at the very least it wasn't a formula show.

More mixed messaging: does Ben have to learn leadership, or is he already the perfect leader? Everything else here sounds fine, though. Which is more than I can say for...

Why does Gwen's tomboy phase have to be a "phase" at all? And even if it was, why go so diametrically opposite? I appreciate the stance that femininity is not weakness, but you didn't have to change a pre-existing character so much to hammer that home, nor be so painfully on the nose with "energy found in nature" that is pink colored. And yeah, the absolute gall of saying "there's no such thing as magic on this show", just pissing on what was created in the Original Series, which if this is supposed to be a sequel opens up a massive plothole about all the Hex, Charmcaster and Bezel business that seemed totally unrelated to Anodites.

"The bad boy of her dreams" - GAG ME. And speak of the devil:

Gwevin as imagined by Dwayne McDuffie is the most derivative shit ever. "Bad boy with an upper class rich girl he thought was out of his league".....that's just Grease. It's John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John, not Kevin and Gwen as they were established in the OS. Also, McDuffie has him back to human form and changing his powers for no established reason.

And two fallacies here about Kevin's character: that he's "cool as they come" and "really wants to be a cop". NO. Kevin 11, as we saw in the OS, looked cool at first, luring Ben and the viewer in onto his side, but in actuality he was deeply troubled and ultimately pathetic. That was the whole point of this scene. And being a cop is just about the last thing Kevin would want to be given his actual interactions with cops in the show. In Alien Force proper they tried to justify this with his real dad having been a Plumber and Max's partner....except that makes no sense, as Max showed no recognition of Kevin in the OS and Kevin showed no recognition of the Plumbers when dealing with aliens. These Kevins just don't gel together.

So originally it reads like the Highbreed's resolution was meant to be played as much more of a defeat: forcing "impurity" upon them to save their ungrateful species. But of course, in the actual show fucking Reiny shows up and it turns into this abrupt redemption. People bitch about the Diamonds in Steven Universe, but this arguably worse offense came earlier.

Did Dwayne McDuffie not have access to the development of "Ben 10 vs. The Negative Ten" that would be going on around this time? Because that already explained the reason for the Forever Knights' dealings in alien technology: their current king was a former Plumber. This stupid alien dragon story which ends up going nowhere was pointless and made "some of Ben's most formidable enemies" look like idiots, which ended up necessitating yet another retcon to the Forever Knights' backstory with the horrible Sir George and Dagon arc in UA.

And all of these guidelines go crashing out the window in UA! What the Hell?

And there it is! "Tell your story and don't get hung up on either the big arc or the show's mythology." "We don't intend to do sequels to original series episodes". "Shouldn't need the original Ben 10 to enjoy the new Ben 10". "Your pitches should be looking forward, not back". "You're on the right track if you write it like a different TV show". "It's not a superhero show".

Dwayne McDuffie really did not care that he was writing a direct continuation of a previous series and was supposed to be helping to shape a consistent fictional universe. He didn't really give a crap about the Original Series and trying to build off of it. As far as he was concerned, this might as well be the first Ben 10 show. How arrogant can you get!? A big part of why this series and then Omniverse became such a mess is because of this disregard for basic continuity, since writers now had to belatedly insert it long after the fact! If you don't believe me, just look at Dwayne McDuffie's original pitch for Omniverse prior to his death:

After the series was greenlit, McDuffie completed outlines for the premiere two-parter a few weeks before he passed away. This is why his name is still in the premiere two-parter's credits despite it having been radically altered from what he had envisioned. Now, you might think that the above pitch sounds much better than the Omniverse we ended up with. Perhaps it would have been. That's not the point. The point is that why is it just now that McDuffie is proposing a show that directly connects to Ben's adventures as a 10 year-old? Why now have a show where everything from past continuity is central and trying to build a cohesive whole? Why now have a show which has "the evil Kevin 11", plus a shady partner to Ben whom he can't entirely trust which leads to actual friction and drama from their conflicting agendas? Why now make a show to "create an absolutely immersive boys action franchise" and trying to give a stake to all fans, including fans of the OS? Why now map out a "megastory", otherwise known as a Myth Arc? I guess what I'm really trying to ask here is....

...why was all of this not simply done.....in "Ben 10: Hero Generation"?

And that's why the Ben 10 sequels were doomed right from the start. Because they were built on the foundation of Dwayne McDuffie not wanting to really make a sequel, not wanting to actually build off the OS and create a franchise with a consistent, coherent universe. Then, by the time he finally wanted to....he died. And we all know how Omniverse then turned out.

Such a shitshow. Such a trainwreck. Such a goddamn waste.

[fuckitfireeverything]

I love the term pathetic fallacy, like I know what it means and why it's called that but also.... fuckin mid ass fallacy, absolute dogshit fallacy, my eight year old niece could come up with a better fallacy than that

[sarcasmandships]

AHHH YOU HAVE TUMBLR OMG now I can leave you overly enthusiastic comments in MORE places Everyone should read Will Solace and the Socialites of Olympus University it should be required actually!!!

Anyway I'm here to ask HOW DO YOU DO IT?? How do you write so well?? I'm taking notes for my own fics...

Honestly, I take a lot of inspiration from other things I’ve read, to be fair. I actually mentioned this in a recent author’s note, but The Secret History by Donna Tartt was a huge influence—if you haven’t read it, I seriously recommend it. I’m completely in love with her writing style. I won’t spoil anything, but there’s this whole arc that focuses on the brutality of a Vermont winter, and that really shaped how I approached weather and setting in the first chapter of Codex Solace. That whole cold, isolating atmosphere? Straight out of Tartt’s playbook.

I’ve also read some incredible fics that have massively influenced my writing. SnitchesAndTalkers is one of my absolute favourite authors on AO3—they mostly write AUs, so even if you’re not in the fandom, their stuff is still brilliant. The way they build character voice and tension? Unreal. I feel like reading really good fic is how I taught myself what kind of emotional beats and pacing actually work, and I owe a lot to the fic community for helping me grow as a writer.

Also—just to sound like I’m bigging myself up (but only slightly)—I was always really into English at school. I did Advanced Higher (which is the highest level you can take before uni here), and even though I ended up doing psych degrees, I still took a literature elective at uni just because I missed that kind of analysis. That’s where I started to really understand the literary techniques I gravitate towards. I’m obsessed with pathetic fallacy—give me a thunderstorm that reflects emotional turmoil and I will eat it up—and I love the idea of writing New York City almost as a sentient character in the story.

Also… I definitely have my “favourite words.” Re-read any fic of mine and take a drink every time I say reverence and you’ll end up in A&E. I think because I know my writing patterns so well, I get hyper-aware of them—so when I re-read my own chapters, all I can see is repetition. Like, I’ll realise I said the same thing two slightly different ways and just… didn’t pick one.

It’s definitely not all polished. I struggle with pacing a lot, which is why I’m physically incapable of writing anything other than a slow burn. Every time I try to be efficient, it turns into 25k of longing. I also tend to overwrite scenes and then go back and realise I’ve described the same emotion six times using slightly different metaphors, like I’m trying to win a poetry slam.

I’m also super detail-oriented when it comes to research. I wanted the academic stuff to feel grounded, so I was in the trenches googling engineering courses and organic chemistry despite the fact that I genuinely don’t know the six times table. I’m a words girl. Numbers? Couldn’t be me. And then for the Italian stuff, I researched the hell out of which words shared roots with Spanish—even though I barely speak either. I speak English and bad French, and I can fluently tell a waiter in Spanish that I’m allergic to shellfish, which is the important stuff, really.

Anyway, I’ve totally gone off on one and given you way more info than you probably asked for, but these are the main things I do to try and make my fics good. And honestly? The biggest motivator is just asking myself: what is going to cause the readers the most pain and suffering? And then doing exactly that.

Thank you so much for your message—and for all your comments on AO3. They genuinely mean more to me than I could ever say. I absolutely have to read Binary Stars! I’ve seen such good things about it. I just tend not to read other fics too much while I’m actively writing because I get so obsessed and start mentally writing fanfic for the fanfic, which… is a bit of a spiral. But once I’m finished with Socialites, I’m 100% diving in. We AO3 writers have to stick together—it’s the trenches out here sometimes!

[teaonastro]

seeing your latest post with all those screenshots is DIABOLICAL. it’s so crazy to see an echo chamber of denial. it’s like a cult. seeing the language they use to urge and manipulate server members to side with them makes my intellectual brain sick. the presence of minors is really just the cherry on top of this shit-log sundae.

the urging to do your own research? thanks for the advice, i’ve done it oh and would you look at that. the ginormous pile of evidence that i researched myself has pointed to aphrodicci and her whole posse being evil. the level of deductive skill it took is elementary, really.

it honestly explains the incessant harassment from astrotaroblroracle even when she has no engagement, and jupitersreturn clapping back and putting so much effort in only to do nothing whatsoever. that whole group as a collective but especially astrotarotblroracle, only seems to address things that they can spin into their favor and they don’t do it well mind you, but the latching on to sxxsins is an example of that and then they LOVE using logical fallacies left and right. they never address proof, never engage in the asks that have good points, or even engage with someone like knightesscharming who has no personal involvement. she just has a damn good argument, clap back, and a lack of caring when it comes to their doxxing and bullying tactics. astrotarotblroracle perpetuates the cult-like behavior even outside the echo chamber server.

that one user who’s name i can’t remember or verify as i type this(rhdes-film maybe?) seems like a manipulative ringleader that’s right up there with aphrodicci. the misplaced social righteousness, the logical fallacies, and the little hype man that speaks after her all gives cult leader and i’m sorry but you can’t change me mind. caught in 4k. diabolical, like i said.

Yes! Also the way they’re purposefully discouraging people from learning more about the situation, mentioning that there’s a whole other context. If that were the case, they’d stop excusing racism with all of their logical fallacies and they’d show the so called “full context”. Too bad there isn’t one. The only context in this mess is their justification of racial slurs, harassment campaigns (which multiple people have gone through for absolutely no reason), and so much more. It’s also funny how she keeps excusing the server’s misdeeds by mentioning that so many of them are BIPOC or LGBTQ (and yet, they keep once again condoning the use of racial and homophobic slurs?). The irony! A shit log sundae, truly. We’ve had a few conversations with so many anons, former server members and former friends of Aphrodicci, and it seems that Aphrodicci is very adept in emotional manipulation. Especially in one on one relationships. We have viewed some screenshots from a few sources which haven’t been posted and the least we can say is that she’s good at gaslighting and manipulating. People who know they are innocent don’t need to rely on friends and side blogs and anon hate to maintain innocence. An innocent person wouldn’t need to use such a disgusting cacophony of abuse and manipulation and scare tactics. The others participating in this behaviour and helping her to harass and abuse others are just as shameful. I’m not sure they’ll ever break free from the mirage. We also found it odd that jupiitersreturn deactivated- if this is truly so insignificant and we are so obviously incorrect why delete? Why block? (By the way, even spiritstalking blocked us just NOW, which is very telling). Why not make a coherent argument and stop manipulating? We all see it for what it is, at this point it’s genuinely pathetic.

I agree with you, rholsolf seems very manipulative in the way she’s chosen to purposely deflect and lie to people about the so called context. Shameful behaviour since she’s obviously condoning racism and even helping Aphrodicci in her smear campaigns. So many logical fallacies indeed. I hope that one day they’ll realize what they’ve done and how it has impacted their victims.

[ichirukilover]

I closed the door to Bl/each after the tragedy of 6/86 and briefly opened a window to LA, because well that pair is my weakness and it made me laugh how treacherously I/R it was.

So when weeks ago I saw a beautiful I/R fanart on Tik Tok (The anime came back, so the algorithm decided it was a good idea to torture me), and the response to a comment that said "They should have ended up together "was "READ THE MANGA", I was baffled. I mean, what did that mean? had I read a fake manga all those years and the "real manga" appeared Da Vinci Code-style after 2016? Was it all a Jump conspiracy? Have we been duped all this time?

That piqued my curiosity, so I wandered around several sites, reading publications from the "correct/canon/real manga" point of view; and well, you'll see even worse things the bible says.

Here are my favorites:

"The I/H was evident from the beginning, just read chapter 0": yes, because a one-shot that is a sketch of the general idea of a manga, that goes through many revisions and rewrites is absolutely determinant in the development of the main manga, and seriously, what exactly is the evidence?

"HM arc is the ultimate proof of I/H, he went to rescue her and even came back from the dead for her": well, so did her other friends and even R/enji and R/ukia, maybe they were all in love with her too. And about the resurrection...just...never mind.

"I/H are perfect for each other" Here I could do a whole essay from a psychological point of view that proves that it is an absolute fallacy and was more than clear in the FB arc, in real life they wouldn't work and would be a toxic couple. And God knows at least that boy needs therapy.

"O***ime looks like Ma/saki" * Bombastic side eye. Criminal, offensive side eye *

"O***ime deserves I/chigo”: Oh, so he was some kind of trophy for being a good girl, so it wasn't enough to objectify her, they also do the same with the boy.

"Ru/kia was a shinigami and I/chigo was a human, and she's much older than him, their relationship was impossible." *Everything but the rain entered the chat*.

"I/H fought together against Y/wach": And we all know how well they (he) did, right?

"W/D/k/A/L/Y": *sigh* that's what it looks like when you try to fix a mess and fail miserably.

"W/D/k/A/L/Y's scribble": ...

"Anime invented IR": The studio simply pushed something that was already implicit in the original material and they knew it would sell more, it's basic marketing. Most of us knew what was filler and what wasn't (rolls eyes).

And there definitely wasn't a parallel manga that magically made sense of that ending. What a disappointment.

And I/R are the delusional and lacking in compressive reading? It's so much easier to say you just don't like people ship I/R, instead of sending them to read the manga or giving lazy arguments. Pathetic.

This was long, but I just needed to vent or something, because I honestly found the whole situation absolutely hilarious.

My English is broken, so I hope I have been understood.

PS: So in my delusional mind I/R is right now enjoying his honeymoon on the beach *wink**wink*.

Blessings.

As someone that didn't leave after the ending and has seen all these "amazing points" take form and basically became the classic "IH and pro ending dudebro agenda" list, let me tell you, I was and still am baffled too. No matter how many times I read them, I still get shocked at how some really believe that bunch of BS, or better they keep repeating it untill they'll believe it.

You adressed them in a simple but direct and straight to the point way, I don't even need to add anything to what you said, agree to all of it, wait lol well maybe I could add the the pilot chapter lit has In0ue de0d at the end of it but what do we know, that doesn't seem to matter to them lol it doesn't have to make sense smh

In our delusional mind that ichiruki honeymoon on the beach is so vivid and real... I wonder why lmao

[charliespringverse]

iwbft — wednesday: a brief summary of my annotations

all highlighted quotes: 89

· ouch/ow/owie: 7

· real/felt/relatable/so true: 4

· aroace: 1

· ☹/☹☹/☹☹☹: 4

I didn't find anything, but that doesn't mean nothing was there. — rpf shippers looking for proof

What's the point in being in The Ark if we're going to get stalked, harassed, have photographs leaked, privacy stolen, and never, ever be at peace? — read peace (part 3 in the folklore trilogy) by @ treacherousdoctors on ao3 xxx

I showed her the picture of Jimmy as my lock screen. I talked to her about Jowan. She probably thinks I'm absolute fandom trash. — UR GETTING THERE QUEEN KEEP GOING

You're not just doing this to try to meet The Ark, right?? Because you won't meet them. — foreshadowing innit

[...] the three boys who have kept me alive for the past four years. — this whole thing RLLY fucks w my head like . am i too autistic to fathom the idea of strangers being solely responsible for ur life & wellbeing or is it Weird

The fans gave us everything we have. I love them. I love the fans. — who are you trying to convince jimothy

Lister... I don't remember what Lister did. — HHHHHHHH 𖨆𖨆 𖨆 AGAIN

I look down and realise there's blood splattered all down my pyjama shorts and on my legs. I laugh. Why've I got blood all over me? What the fuck. — depersonalisation (note: this is double underlined)

The blood falls, with a soft 'plip', onto the table. Almost indiscernible from the rain falling outside. — pathetic fallacy babeyyy

'I miss home,' I say. He looks confused. 'We are home?' 'No, we're not,' I say. — AGONY

Part of me knows it's what God wants. It's the good thing, and the right thing, to help someone in a horrible situation. But another part of me knows that this is because of The Ark. Because I fucking live to serve them too. — mmmmmm

'I think we're your only dating options.' 'Rowan's straight.' 'Oh. Just me, then.' I whack him on the arm and we both laugh. — ☹ he means it

We don't ever talk about deep stuff, me and Lister Bird. — TRY (note: this is all caps, huge, and double underlined)

He was voted number one in this year's Glamour's 100 Sexiest & Hottest Men, MTV's 50 Sexiest Men Alive, and HerInterest's 100 Hottest Men in the World, all of which it was finally acceptable for him to qualify for, since he's over eighteen now. — creepy!

'Why else would anyone want to be around me?' he says. 'I'm Lister Bird. Why else would anyone want to be around me other than to get with me?' — ouchie mr bird !!!!!

Bliss raises her eyebrows at him. 'Is the word you're looking for "gay"? It ain't poisonous. — bliss laicon

[redbelles]

writing asks: 13, 51, 55 🩷

13. do you listen to music while you write? if yes, what have you been listening to recently?

answered here!

51. does what you like to write differ from what you like to read?

yes and no! i try to follow my own advice and read very broadly, but my favorite things to read (angst, romance, complex character work, etc.) are also my favorite things to write. the only real outlier is humor. i'm an absolute sucker for sharp, snappy humor in what i read but i cannot write it to save my life :/

55. have you noticed any patterns in your fics? words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

it's not a meg redbelles fic if it isn't about grief in some capacity! the sky is going to showcase some pathetic fallacy at some point! something is gonna be "bitter as [word]," and the word is probably "blood" which is fine and normal! bones! some kind of riff on "prelude to bruise" (as cribbed from saeed jones) is a big one! lots of extended metaphors because a bitch (me) simply cannot help herself!

i'm at least slightly less predictable in my original fiction, but at the end of the day, i am, at all times, a parody of myself ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

send me some fic writing asks!

[4ngler4rt]

sigh.

texting chatbots can’t fill the hole in my chest im just a mess. lemme get some rest- i’ll get outta bed when im feeling my best, forget it, why didn’t I give up yet? am I sucker for pain and longing, strain and struggle, or do I just like the feeling of stepping in puddles- that go too deep, so I sink, inevitably why do I hate myself so much, tell myself to leave

life is pointless, and so are my excuses im just inadequate, you’d be right cause im clueless chained by my ankle to my past sins and grievances god, im pathetic and there’s a few more instances- of this, fucking loser ass bitch do i hate others that much, am i just a prick? why do i do this? just die and eat shit pulling on my hair, the stress is too big i hate it. i hate this-

do this, do that, Gwen’s just a piece of trash fucking hate myself, god, stop saying that. useless and stupid, why do you do this absolute hypocrite, addicted to the noti- fications, when a friend texts, im typing back 3 dots, loading response, please read that… to want is to need, wanna go back to the past, cause back then i wasn't so bad, i-…

(alarm beeping, shuffling) (muttering: uuuughh… what…) (feeling around, pressing ipad button) ("…i still have time to kill if it's 8…")

love and affection, pain and rejection, crying with dry eyes, it's about time- i get up. sweet jesus, pull myself together pathetic fallacy, mood's like the weather. am i unpleasant? what a peasant. lower class mannerisms, mouth of a sailor my voice wavers. choking on words, send a prayer that i get better, please come back later…

wait- where's the chorus? the checkpoint? run on sentences, 1 point- away from the full score, responsibility- creeps up on me, running away, keep up with me the weight is crushing me, move, i gotta flee- from my problems that i myself set up- my own obstacles trip me over, scream at myself to get up curator of my personal hell, worst critic, number 1 hater is me, myself and i, save my problems for later

[daystarsearcher]

4, 69 for the fanfic writer ask game

4. what is the plot bunny you’ve been carrying for the longest? optional bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven’t written it yet and experience deep existential dread?

Hmm, probably the "5 Times Kate Figured Out Osgood Was a Zygon and Had to Have Her Memory Erased" fic, mostly because it would involve having to go back and rewatch a lot of episodes to refresh my memories on details, and who has the time? Not so much on the existential dread as I'm enjoying the other plot bunnies I have at the moment, and the cost/benefit of that one is still clearly putting it behind others that I have in the pipeline.

69. how do you write emotional scenes? do you ever feel what the characters feel?

I always want emotion to be very visceral and embodied, so I think about the physical sensations that those emotions bring out in me and write those down. I also use a lot of the pathetic fallacy, i.e. describing the setting or items in their surroundings in a way that reflects their inner emotional state.

And I absolutely feel those emotions, all the time. I will be typing away with tears rolling down my face, sometimes. (But also smiling, because I'm excited for how this will devastate people.)

[teachingmycattoread]

Things We've Yelled About This Episode #4.7

Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë

"Reader, I married him." Ch. 38

Michael Fassbender (imdb)

Jane Eyre (2011)

Lord of the Flies, William Golding

Animal Farm, George Orwell

Anne Brontë (wiki)

Emily Brontë (wiki)

Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë (our episode here)

Pathetic fallacy (wiki)

"If it isn't the consequences of my own actions" (meme)

This line from Brokeback Mountain (2005)

"Man hands on misery to man, it deepens like a coastal shelf" - "This Be The Verse", Philip Larkin (poem)

"'I am not deceitful: if I were, I should say I loved you; but I declare I do not love you: I dislike you the worst of anybody in the world except John Reed...People think you a good woman, but you are bad, hard-hearted. You are deceitful!" Ch.4

Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen (our episode here)

"Women are supposed to be very calm generally: but women feel just as men feel; they need exercise for their faculties, and a field for their efforts, as much as their brothers do; they suffer from too rigid a restraint, too absolute a stagnation, precisely as men would suffer; and it is narrow-minded in their more privileged fellow-creatures to say that they ought to confine themselves to making puddings and knitting stockings, to playing on the piano and embroidering bags. It is thoughtless to condemn them, or to laugh at them, if they seek to do more or learn more than custom has pronounced necessary for their sex." Ch. 12

My Immortal (holy shit it has a wikipedia page!)

This scene from Riverdale (2017-2023):

"A new chapter in a novel is something like a new scene in a play; and when I draw up the curtain this time, reader, you must fancy you see a room in the George Inn at Millcote..." Ch. 11

"I waited now his return; eager to disburthen my mind, and to seek of him the solution of the enigma that perplexed me. Stay till he comes, reader; and, when I disclose my secret to him, you shall share the confidence." Ch. 25

This quotation from Charlotte Brontë re. the Brontë sisters' pseudonyms

A quotation from a contemporary critic in The Indicator, found here

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, Anne Brontë (our episode here)

The suppression of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Charlotte Brontë after Anne Brontë's death (wiki)

"I would not be understood to suppose that the proceedings of the unhappy scapegrace, with his few profligate companions I have here introduced, are a specimen of the common practices of society—the case is an extreme one, as I trusted none would fail to perceive; but I know that such characters do exist, and if I have warned one rash youth from following in their steps, or prevented one thoughtless girl from falling into the very natural error of my heroine, the book has not been written in vain." - Prologue to the Second Edition of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, Anne Brontë

"I purposely abstain from dates on this occasion, that every one may be at liberty to fix their own, aware that the cure of unconquerable passions, and the transfer of unchanging attachments, must vary much as to time in different people. I only entreat everybody to believe that exactly at the time when it was quite natural that it should be so, and not a week earlier, Edmund did cease to care about Miss Crawford, and became as anxious to marry Fanny as Fanny herself could desire." Mansfield Park, Jane Austen; Ch. 48

Mansfield Park, Jane Austen (our episode here)

Kolinahr (memory alpha)

Phrenology (wiki)

"'...it is my spirit that addresses your spirit; just as if both had passed through the grave, and we stood at God's feet, equal, - as we are!'" Ch. 23

Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen (our episodes here and here)

Charlotte Brontë's early life and death

Hyperemesis gravidarum (wiki)

For context on the Brontës, M recommends "Take Courage" by Samantha Ellis. Mostly focused on Anne but it covers the whole family as well.

The Brontë Museum (website)

"Would [Henry Crawford] have persevered, and uprightly, Fanny must have been his reward, and a reward very voluntarily bestowed, within a reasonable period from Edmund's marrying Mary." Mansfield Park, Jane Austen; Ch. 48

"I had not seen "Pride and Prejudice" till I read that sentence of yours, and then I got the book. And what did I find? An accurate, daguerreotyped portrait of a commonplace face, a carefully-fences, highly-cultivated garden, with neat borders and delicate flowers; but no glance of a bright, vivid physiognomy, no open country, no fresh air, no blue hill, no bonny beck. I should hardly like to live with her ladies and gentlemen, in their elegant but confined houses." from a letter of Charlotte Brontë to critic G. H. Lewes, reproduced in Mrs Gaskell's "Life of Charlotte Brontë".

Jane Eyre , read by Thandiwe Newton (audible)

Wuthering Heights, read by Juliet Stevenson (audible)

M is referring to this article about kink in Jane Eyre

Public Universal Friend (wiki)

Chartism (wiki)

Jane mentions a charter while she and Mr Rochester are discussing the possibility of his acquiring a harem in Ch. 24: "'I'll be preparing myself to go out as a missionary to preach liberty to them that are enslaved - your harem inmates amongst the rest. I'll get admitted there, and I'll stir up mutiny; and you, three-tailed bashaw as you are, sir, shall in a trice find yourself fettered amongst our hands: nor will I, for one, consent to cut your bonds till you have signed a charter, the most liberal that despot ever yet conferred.'"

At least one critic also accused the (then unknown) author of being a Chartist ()

This line from Muppets Treasure Island (1996)

The Muppets; Gonzo and Rizzo, Miss Piggy, Animal, Sweetums, Kermit, Statler and Waldorf

"It's not easy being green" (youtube)

"I know no medium: I never in my life have known any medium in my dealings with positive hard characters, antagonistic to my own, between absolute submission and determined revolt." Ch. 34

"It was my nature to feel pleasure in yielding to an authority supported like [Diana's], and to bend, where my conscience and self-respect permitted, to an active will." Ch. 29

This tumblr post:

"There's a horse! Loose in a hospital" from John Mulaney's Kid Gorgeous (2018) (youtube)

Little a salami, as a treat (meme)

Dig For Britain - Lotti is referring to the World War II campaign Dig For Victory (BBC article)

Cat Rating: 6/10

What Else Are We Reading?

Articles about kink in Jane Eyre (see above)

Severance (2022- present)

The Little White Horse, Elizabeth Goudge

Next Time

The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins

[so-otterly-jaded]

Alright, you know what? Maybe it's a hot take, maybe it's Tumblr Tepid by now, but I've been stuck with this fucker in my head too long so I'm saying it: the current US administration is being given too much credit any time it's being called evil. Is it cruel? Yes, and that's not a side effect, it is an intent. But it's not *evil*. It's weak, and pathetic, and there's a difference, and that difference is the amount of respect it deserves even from those who might agree with it.

Fuck it, hear me out, I guess. Evil is something that can be applied separately to actions, words, thoughts, and people. As in those things can all be separately evil or not evil for the same individual. You can do evil things and just be a slimy, revolting person, not evil per se, but given unto it by happenstance. And it all comes down to intent.

Evil actions cause unnecessary suffering. It does not matter if the result of that suffering is a greater good, because it was Unnecessary. It could have been avoided without causing more suffering. That's where you draw the line with actions. It's actually pretty cut and dry here because to an extent it's actually fairly objective. Your actions either cause unnecessary suffering as a result of merely being done, and thus, are evil, or they do not. But merely taking action that qualifies as evil does not make *you* evil. You can also be stupid, uninformed, incompetent, misdirected, at the mercy of forces far beyond you, or as I said of our current admin under 45 and his puppeteer, Weak And Pathetic.

Words are a little trickier because they are inherently more subjective. Words are slippery and weird and don't even mean the same thing to the same people if the circumstances around them are different. Cruel words can be used for good and benign language can have catastrophic consequences when used improperly. Generally, for it to be evil, it requires a lot of intent and orchestration. You have to line things up. There's set up and background to this one no matter how you look at it, even if it means building off what someone else has said to do so.

Thoughts are... Well they're a whole can of worms. It's not something I consider myself suited to dig into, even surface level and that's because I have a lot of weird bias to work through, and you eventually hit the plateaus of "expert fallacy" or whatever it's called, where your experience so distances you from the average person in some regard or another that you can no longer trust yourself or anyone similar to you to be able to accurately gauge a baseline. I'm well beyond that point in some respects, but unfortunately for me, not in anything practical for survival in any reasonable terms.

People though? That's a bit easier than thoughts, and it's definitely more straightforward than words. Though it's absolutely more broad than actions. Which is a lot of words not really doing much work, I know, but it's my blog post so I'm gonna organize it however the fuck I want, bite me.

People are generally motivated by survival, in some regard or another. So anything that they can perceive to affect them in some tangible way will come with a bias based on that. Which is to say that this can shift how they determine what actions are worth taking and whatnot, whether or not they're aware of it. If they can benefit from something, they're more likely to do it than if they didn't, and more likely still than if they would be negatively affected by it. Think the subconscious difference between someone helping a stranger for internet clout vs them silently giving up something they're not entirely sure they can afford to lose for the sake of someone else. Big difference, but it's a personal one, and it dictates, to at least some extent, the kind of person they are.

People who do cruel things because they have something to gain are not necessarily evil and that's important to remember for the times where people are legitimately acting for the sake of their own survival, or to help/save someone they love. It's also important to remember that not everyone knows what they're doing or what effects it can have, and that while it's no excuse for the damage it may cause, they might be able, and willing, to work to try and fix it if they're given the information and opportunity they need. They are not required to have these things, and no one should be forced to give them away, but it's important to see the nuance there. Even people who do and say and *think* evil things are not necessarily evil. If given the chance to step away and not repeat it, they very well might make that choice.

And then, there's the ones who will make that choice every time, because that's just who they are. It's a part of them whether they're able to stop it or not. This is where you have people that have it in their nature to act, or speak, or think in evil ways, because they just will. This does not make them evil. Not on its own. This is where we get into intent and repercussions.

If someone only engages in evil things when they believe it will benefit them, they are weak. They are pathetic. Think of people who won't do much to help themselves or others because they think they're beyond touching, and will choose to rat others around them out if there's a payout to find. You'll actually see a bunch of cops fall into this, where the work done only really preys on those below them in terms of authority to garner benefits at the cost of those who are probably already doing poorly and just end up in a bad place to be at the wrong time to be there. It's predatory but it's not even honest about it. There's always a veneer of "good deeds" to keep them in good standing with those they can fool, so they don't face consequences.

This is what's going on with the richest fuck in the world, and his orange puppet. They're not even doing this shit to be dictators, or at least not competent ones. That's predominantly a smokescreen, a way to cordon off power and shut down things that would keep them in check. This is about grabbing everything they can and then disappearing. It's a grand rug pull. They're worse than Nazis, they're fucking Nazi poseurs. They're doing this shit because it will tie up the system. It will gum up the works. And it will make it harder for anyone to stop what they're actually doing which is robbing the US government and people blind. I'm willing to bet that the rotten tangerine will end up using an eventual "meeting" with Russian officials as a chance to leave the country for good in the hopes of finally retiring beyond the reach of the consequences to his actions. The idiot appropriating nerd culture that's pulling him along can just pick wherever will cover for him, assuming he doesn't feel bold enough to stay and trust his fake numbers to keep him safe.

They're not evil, because they don't even care if this shit works. They don't need anything to stick because they're loading the bags as we speak. They're pathetic fucks who need to have their egos stroked to be happy, but all they're good at is taking credit for other people's work. One of them fucking pretended to be good at a video game. Like we don't even remember half of the speed runners that cheated, but he wanted to use *that* as an ego boost.

They're not evil. They do not Deserve to be credited as such. They are lowly and worthless and should be told, to their faces, how little their existence will matter as soon as their charade is over, how fast they will fade from history. They should be told their tombstones will be left blank and their graves shallow.

Evil is above them. Evil does not need to gain anything.

They Will Be Buried In A Shallow And Forgotten Grave. Time Will Not Hold A Legacy For Them For They Are Not Worthy.

Also, I just really think it would be super funny if history books just found a way to completely write around them. Like this last election is just brushed over and is about the US having some dipshit no one can even remember come into office and fucked everything up before immediately skipping to the recovery efforts. I think everyone who's resisting should be remembered, by name. Everyone who helps the vulnerable should be celebrated. But the bastards we're fighting should be forgotten in name. Their actions can be remembered, but they should forfeit their places in the annals, nameless, worthless, forgotten. A zit on the face of a country, popped and done away with as such, and so easily gone from the mind.

[tennisdadsaficionado]

💖🏅💭

What do you like most about your own writing? That BADFalcon person always write what I want to read LOL um. I like how easy I find it to write, and that I've always got ideas. I like that I don't care about fandom expectations and will write the story regardless of if I think people are going to like it.

What is something you recently felt proud of in regard to your writing (finished a fic, actually planned for once, etc) I've been working really hard over the last couple of years on adding sensory details, engaging all the senses, using pathetic fallacy which makes me ridiculous happy, getting more into what characters are feeling and show, not tell.

I'm also super proud of the creative writing assignment I had in university the other year that I got 98% for.

What is a headcanon you have about your own work? OK so this is in SG-1 fandom so it probably won't mean much to anyone here (sorry) but it's absolutely a headcanon for me that Carter, Lorne, Mitchell & Sheppard all went through the academy together.