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meanbossart · 1 day ago

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Ask Compilation: Gorp, Questionable Child Rearing, Progressive elves and some campaign lore!

As always, I apologize if your ask isn't here/ hasn't been replied to, it is unfortunately impossible for me to answer to every question I get to the extend I would like to. Occasionally I also just don't have a very interesting answer to offer 😅 and I try to avoid spamming people's feeds! But thank you so much to everyone who interacts with my stories, characters, art, and is curious about my thought process and writing! The response is frankly just as overwhelming as it is deeply appreciated, and every word of encouragement or message about how I inspired you to draw or write more of your own stories makes my day.

DU drow and Gortash had what I would describe as a "Toxic Friendship". They got along well enough, had little friend dinner-dates, drank together, superficially shared their woes in ways that benefited no one, and DU drow ultimately had a great deal of respect for Gortash - except you would have never known that by the way he treated him.

DU drow belittled, harassed, and even destroyed Gortash's property on whim alone. Every compliment was back-handed and every display of friendship was somehow sarcastic. Gortash let everything slide right off his back for reasons I like leaving obscured. Here's a particularly intense write-up I did about their relationship a long time ago that still stands. I think it serves really well to illustrate how intense DU drow could still be about his friendships.

PFFTT, I don't know why that would be a female-child only thing, but maybe that's just a colloquialism?

DU drow actually talks pretty similarly to children as he does to adults! He just doesn't set the same expectations on them. Children don't ask stupid questions because the world is still new to them, nor do their respond reasonably to everything, they also don't understand some big words or complex ideas depending on how you present it to them - he understands this and adjusts accordingly. But otherwise his tone would be the same, even with his his own child. He's that guy who's good with kids on the basis of treating them as to-be adults rather than.. Well, just a child.

The Astarion assessment is fair, LOL.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

(Surface) elven kind strikes me as fairly gender-indifferent overall! And while I enjoy theorizing about how their culture has shifted over the years from exposure to "urban life", for both better and worse, I like to think this is an aspect that has remained mostly unchanged, even for elves who may have had a really mixed-up upbringing from living in a city as diverse as Baldur's Gate.

I believe Astarion (and by extension Shadowheart and DU drow) are fully aware that they read as their respective genders and that for other races, such as humans, that means something; but for them that is a different custom that doesn't really apply outside of pronouns and reproductive expectations. So, I actually believe that Astarion would be pretty indifferent to life as a woman save for occasionally missing having a dick for the obvious reasons (only to then shift back and lament the opposite, probably).

ALL THE TIME!

But I know that you meant to ask if I will ever draw it.

VERY LIKELY THAT I WILL.

As a side note, thank you for showing interest and excitement for male-on-male sex that isn't just anal, LOL.

CW for the obvious, though nothing too descriptive or awful.

I understand if people disagree as a knee-jerk reaction, but I would say that Astarion's character demonstrates a shocking amount of self-control and emotional regulation. I went into this more in detail in an older post, but basically: the guy always brings himself down from his own outbursts, is exceptionally good at reading the room, is extremely forgiving and pragmatic, and knows when to send the jokes outside and respond to vulnerability in kind. I stand by this as more than a headcanon; it's in his actual writing and dialogue.

All that to say, I don't think Astarion would ever lay a violent hand on his own children. I also don't HC him as having endured corporal punishment as a child, hence not really having that instilled in his mind as a possible example to draw from.

I could see DU drow implementing physical punishments that he doesn't consider to be actually painful, like pulling, pinching, or squeezing a child while you reprehend them; things a parent might do because they think it's harmless. Astarion would probably be the one to say he's not really achieving anything - so it would likely be short-lived.

I DO think they would both be okay with setting up their children to pretty arduous physical labor, though, both as punishment and just in general to toughen them up. You could argue there's a way to do this that is reasonable, but they would prooobably push that line into dubious territory.

Buddy, WHO said low fat, what do you think the meat and taters that he's eating is swimming in!

But back to your question, he can enjoy a sweet treat every once in a while! He just far, far prefers savory. Personally, I think the guy would go crazy for a panettone. Or a big sugar-powdered crepe with some berries.

I kind of flew through the Circus in DU drow's playthrough because I was SO excited to get to Baldur's gate. They were only there long enough for DU drow to make Astarion mildly pissed off during the dryad's weird love quiz.

I also somehow missed Lucretious and never got the Dribbles quest - probably for the best.

Becoming a big ol' squid seems like a deal-breaker for his character in-game - so, same thing applies here. He'd let him down gently but potentially want a friendship for as long as DU drow is still himself.

... Buuuut it would never come to that; DU drow would most likely end his life pretty swiftly if he were to turn into a mindflayer, so Astarion wouldn't have much to worry about 😬

Alas, she pretty much never crosses his mind since he has no recollection of the type of relationship they had prior to DU drow's amnesia.

Or at least she won't as long as nothing weird ever happens that potentially jogs his memory 😇

Hello! I also love the escorts, but due to both DU Drow's and Astarion's respective attitudes towards drow and that kind of activity they didn't really hire his services. I do like to think him and his sister had a lot to gossip about as soon as they turned their backs, though, LOL.

#ask compilation #du drow lore #du drow and astarion

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starlight-bread-blog · 2 days ago

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Okay I'm gonna go full conspiracy, but some of y'all are way worse so I'm doing this. Listen up. Will Byers and Mike Wheeler are fictional characters. Meaning, that everything they do, everything they think and yes, everything they feel has a purpose. So let's look at the facts as they are. Mike couldn't tell El that he loves her, and Will is in love with Mike. Right off the bat, with Will, this fact could lead to two things:

Mike is also in love with Will, and there will be a love triangle with Mike in the middle.

Mike is not in love with Will, and Will will either end up alone, or die, or find another queer boy to love.

With scenario 1, everything is fine. But although on paper, scenario 2 makes sense, we should take into account that everything that Will feels is a carefully thought out decision.

Let's remember the themes and the message of Stranger Things. This show is about the freaks of society, the losers, the outcasts. How people may l give them the side eye, but they have each other. And they'll stand by each other no matter what. So, how does this relate to Will and Mike? Will is a gay boy in the 80s, which not only makes him an outcast, but an outright freak in the eyes of the public. It would go against Stranger Things' message to write a freak trying to find love in his best friend, the one who's supposed to be by his side forever, and having him rejected. In real life, this would not be a problem. If someone is straight, they're straight. But in fiction, the sexuality and or love interest of a character is again, a choice with ramification on the quality of the story. And writing Will, a "freak", having his heart broken by someone who he considered another freak, when you're telling a story about how freaks empower each other by sticking together, is not a smart writing decision.

(There is also the matter of the van scene, where Will's supposedly unrequited feelings are being used to repair El and Mike's relationship, as Will cries over not being able to be with Mike. In other words, if Mike isn't in love with Will, the outcast's suffering is used to fix what's more socially acceptable. Do you see the problem? I don't know how many times I'm going to repeat myself in this post, and I hope it's not getting annoying, but I need to make this as crystal clear as possible: Fiction is not real life. In real life, a gay boy could use some words of affirmation regardless of how they feel, it's just being nice. But in fiction, you have a job to do. You have a story to tell. You have a message you want to put out into the world. And this scene is not compatible with the message).

But let's look at Mike. In season 4, El confronts Mike about him not telling her that he loves her. And throughout that whole scene, not even once, does he just say that he loves her. In the end he does, but the reason as to why he stopped saying it, or why he didn't say it when she confronted him, is never explained. In real life, it's okay if Mike wants to deal with whatever he feels and the reasons behind it with himself. But this is not real life, this was deliberately written to be understood by an audience. It was written to serve a purpose. Mike not being able to tell El that he loves her was a serious conflict in season 4, and the cause behind it is left unknown. This is bad writing, plain and simple. Unless, there is some other factor we are not yet aware of. Unless, he could possibly have feelings for someone else. Maybe that someone is Will.

With that theory in mind, remember when Will and Mike met after a long time of not seeing each other? Will was gonna hug Mike, but Mike just went for a fist bump. There was a very awkward atmosphere in that moment. Why would there be? Once again, I'm not talking about real life. In real life, it could just be awkward because they haven't talked to each other in a while and Mike needs time to adjust. But this is fiction. Every emotion has a purpose, every bit leads to something. And so far, it led to nothing. There was just one awkward moment, with no explanation, and it's never brought up again. There is no reason for it to be there. It's common knowledge that unnecessary story bits shouldn't make it to the final cut. If this wouldn't be expanded upon in some way, it'd be bad writing. It wouldn't be the worst thing to ever happen, but combined with him not being able to tell El that he loves her, it's all very confusing to say the least. But the story is not over, and maybe, all will be explained. And just maybe, that awkwardness could be described as tension between the two. Maybe Mike is in love with Will. That would be the most logical explanation.

#will byers #i'm back on the shipping bullshit #i hope i'm not reaching lol #this is getting out of hand #mike wheeler #mike wheeler x will byers #will byers x mike wheeler #will x mike #mike x will #byler endgame #byler nation #byler meta #byler tumblr #byler is canon #byler is real #byler is requited #byler is endgame #stranger things #byler

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theiaphage · 8 hours ago

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This is a really well worded post and I generally agree! However, I think I got another angle of this same conclusion based on the idea that Amy's original redemption arc never really concluded only to backslide -- rather, that her expectations about redemption fundamentally change what that redemption arc means in-text

Like you say, it absolutely falls well within the typical narrative-trope parameters of the expected 'redemption arc,' she hits all the core points -- but, like with a lot of tropes related to pain, trauma, healing, forgiveness and so on, the typical narrative portrayal isn't often a realistic one. In that way I think Amy acts as both a good example and, with further context, a deconstruction of the redemption arc, because under further examination a lot of the arc itself isn't necessarily as positive as it first came off. In so many of her attempts, she's trying to do better according to all she knows when surrounded by the worst influences possible. She doesn't have a solid safe role model, and hasn't for her entire life. Someone to tell her that sometimes you just won't be forgiven, that not every fight ends with a hug and back-to-normal at the end.

In that way, Amy's attempts at doing the right thing in Worm, though absolutely noble in conscious intent, still betray a few of her failings and the places she was failed. Like you say, she really does try to get better, she does the things she may know broadly lead to healing or help or forgiveness, but a lot still ends up being more about her than her efforts.

The tattoo here absolutely stands out to me -- even before Ward went and had her all but explicitly say that the tattoo holds a different meaning now, even in Worm it still seemed imperfect, questionable potentially, but with heart behind it. It was a memorialization of pain and a reminder to do better -- but like so many pieces of art about pain or failure, it could inadvertently romanticize the subject just as much as it condemns it. Amy is, in a very real way, actively working this tragedy into a part of a narrative -- one she tries to use for growth, but ultimately fails in.

I'm trying not to be too harsh on Amy here, but vibes-wise I'm reminded somewhat of something like an ex-boyfriend, leaving flowers at the door of someone who dumped him, or cry-singing a song about how they were a bad boyfriend on the car drive home. Sure, the pain is real, the acknowledgement of failure likely is as well, but at some point the gesture becomes more about the boyfriend's pain than the actual relationship, or even the breakup. In this moment Victoria, a victim who literally cannot speak for herself in this instance, is 'memorialized' in a very real sense, turned into a symbol by a person that already as a base nature of their power and life can feel so disconnected from the humanity of others.

So many of these choices by Amy center her -- her attempted growth, her attempted retribution, her attempted change. It's the kind of thing that in real life really can be done for the right reasons, but can also be done for worse ones -- that ex-boyfriend working out thinking of their ex, getting a job thinking of their ex, hanging a picture of their ex above their bed to motivate them to get up in the morning. Amy's actions aren't even this extreme or pointed, but I view it as them sharing a sort of kernel of trying to do better because they really want (or even need) better in turn -- and thus, Amy's arc in Ward is what happens when the textbook redemption arc doesn't work.

When all those acts of memoriam, distance, betterment, health, are done with the kernel of hope in your mind that it means you'll be forgiven, that it all will be fine again and you can go back to how it was.

And that's why I see her redemption arc as never having completed -- she's trying, she's hitting the right steps, but ultimately at the conclusion of this redemption (which I would argue is a long period of time, starting with Vicky's new body and coming back up again for a while) would come when those attempts were tested, when Victoria refuses to forgive her and she's forced to either accept her betterment without Victoria, or let go of it and keep pushing for her -- she begins to choose the later.

In this way it's less of a backslide and more of a recontextualizing moment. She is backsliding in behavior, but it's not that she got foundationally better and then became foundationally worse again, and more so that she tried to get better, put in real effort, but ultimately failed. This version worked for me because it seems to be what Amy acts like right out of the gate; annoyed that Vicky won't accept her, continually trying to do things 'for' her or based on her happiness when Victoria wants nothing to do with any of that.

These give some context to her past actions, allow you to re-examine Worm in a way that both provides answers and adds a new layer in a way many readers (myself included) missed at first simply because yeah, Amy's arc does have all the pieces of a redemption arc, and it takes Ward to get people thinking about whether or not those pieces add up.

I do want to state to conclude that yeah, her portrayal (and especially the initial choice to tell this story surrounding Amy of all people) has its issues, many major, but the portrayal of someone who falls into toxicity and abuse because they thought they were doing everything right and still didn't get what they wanted out of it; A person who still didn't get that one selfish prize they latched onto in a moment of pain that they tried to be a saint to deserve or make up for wanting? Yeah, that's pretty unique and powerful, and despite its flaws it really hits home as an accurate-to-the-point-of-painfulness portrayal.

Okay, fuck it, I've built up enough goodwill with this sideblog - let's risk it all by sharing my opinions on how Amy is handled in Ward.

It's kinda complicated I think.

Okay, now that I've resisted the urge to immediately hit post for the bit: I think the way her interludes are written substantially flattens her character in a way that I find distasteful and unpleasant, but I find the overall shape of her arc and her role in the narrative compelling. The things I dislike have been well-covered by plenty of other people in the fandom, so I'm going to focus on the things I like.

To talk about Amy's role in Ward, I first need to talk about my interpretation of Ward as a whole. To me, Ward is, above all else, about trauma and recovery. Society is traumatized by the end of the world, the shards are traumatized by the death of Scion and their loss of purpose, individuals are traumatized by all the things individuals are traumatized by. As an aside, this reading is a big reason why I'm not too bothered by a lot of the world building choices that other people frequently (and fairly) criticize - I think many of them serve this theme effectively.

One specific facet of that reading that I find particularly compelling is Ward's interest in people who are traumatized not just by the harm done to them, but by the harm they've done. Characters don't just regret what they've done, they don't just want to be better, they are traumatized by it, and their reactions to that trauma are as messy and complicated as any other traumatized people. I don't always agree with the stances the text takes on how to deal with having done harm and been traumatized as a result, but I find the exploration of the topic compelling.

Enter The Altruistic Amy Dallon.

Amy's arc in Worm was, to a degree, a prototype of this kind of storytelling. She is repeatedly and horrifically traumatized, the actions she eventually takes in response to that experience inflict equally horrific trauma on her victim, and she is further traumatized by her own actions almost to the point of ego death. She removes herself from the environment she was in, begins rebuilding her sense of identity and ethics, and reemerges having grown, prepared to do better going forward and to make reparations for her past actions as best she can. Arc done! It's satisfying and cathartic, and we leave content in the knowledge that the part she's on will take her to better places. It's the quintessential appeal of a redemption arc, and it's a strong example of its type.

There's something people like to say a lot when talking about mental health and personal growth in real life, and that is that progress isn't linear. It's an important truth to understand.

It's rarely true in fiction. Very often, in redemption arcs, in personal growth arcs, after a series of false starts and setbacks, the character reaches a critical point where they resolve their conflict and either overcome it or succumb to it. From that point on, their nature or behavior is fundamentally changed - if they've grown they never relapse past a certain point, or do so only fleetingly, or else never improve past a certain point. This makes sense from a storytelling perspective, but it doesn't map to how growth often works in real life.

In Ward, Amy occupies the very rare narrative position of being who completes her arc of growth and redemption, who crosses that critical threshold of lasting, meaningful change... but backslides anyway, to the point of essentially losing all that progress.

It's an outcome that I find very believable for her, honestly. Her newfound worldview and conviction were forged in the very insular environment of the Birdcage - of course they would be impacted by her new environment. She says at the end of Ward that she had been able to excuse all of her worst behavior because she had convinced herself that she could fix anything - and at the end of Worm, I can see how she would come to think that! She's been pardoned and released from Forever Prison, she overcame her old aversion to brains to create Khepri and thereby saved the world, she's formed a positive relationship with the father she never thought she'd meet, she's receiving love and support from parents she never felt good enough for, she's using her powers to help people in a way that doesn't make her want to die, and she even "fixed" Victoria, when failing to do that before was the final nail in the coffin she just finished clawing her way out of! The sheer number of seemingly impossible things she's accomplished, of apparently irreversible failures she's seemingly put right, is mind boggling! It'd be the easiest thing in the world to let that go to your head!

Her social circle is also a perfect environment to enable her worst tendencies - there's no one left in it whose opinion she trusts that's willing to call her on her shit. Marquis doesn't see anything wrong with her behavior, Carol is trying to make up for a decade of neglect and unwarranted criticism, Mark just wants everybody to get along and be happy, and Riley and Rinke are pretty shaky on this whole human decency thing themselves! With a (not unjustified) pride in how far she'd come, a circle of willing enablers, a complete lack of moderating influences, and a bulletproof get-out-of-moral-culpability-free card, and two years to spiral, I find her backsliding to be completely believable. And given that Victoria is the fly in the ointment to all of this, that her continued refusal to have anything to do with Amy gives lie to Amy's belief that she can fix anything, and thereby puts the entire edifice of her self-rationalizations at risk, it also makes perfect sense to me that Amy would become fixated on her, on proving that she really can fix anything.

Of course, being believable isn't the same thing as being compelling. The thing that makes all this so resonant for me is that, at the end of Ward, after being this grasping spectre that haunts Victoria the whole book, after rejecting countless opportunities to demonstrate a hint of self-awareness or the slimmest motivation to change - Amy does. She sits down with a therapist. She rips off the band-aid - both the metaphorical one and the literal one made out of Victoria's skin, jesus christ Amy - looks at what she's done, at how she went awry, and resolves to do better. And we end with her in essentially the same place she was at the end of Worm: prepared to do better going forward and to make reparations as best she can. But the journey she has taken to get there gives the destination entirely new meaning for me. She's already fumbled her chance at redemption! But her journey gives lie to the idea that you only have one chance, or two, or any finite number! Every moment you draw breath is a chance to do better.

To me, Amy Dallon's arc in Ward shows that the most important step you can take is the next one, and no matter how many times you walk up and down that road, it never stops being true. And I find that compelling as hell.

#worm #ward #parahumans #wildbow

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meansevika · 18 hours ago

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— this fandom has a vast misogynoirist problem and, yes, this also applies to YOU reading this right now; a post filled w unsorted thoughts you should read if you genuinely want black fans to feel safe in fandom spaces with you

i am going to preface this right away w how disappointed i am in some of the people who follow me, who will occasionally like a post calling out misogynoir but only if its comfortable and only if its worded nicely and only if its against someone they dislike and not someone they do like. i am directly talking to my non-black followers because i do not expect black fans to expose themselves to this kind of hatred and thinly (and not so thinly) veiled racism we are faced w on a daily basis. some of you have a big following and a big portion of that following is white and YOU have the opportunity to use your POWER (and, yes, even in fandoms there are different power dynamics because logging onto twitter dot com does not remove the burden of blackness within overtly white spaces, this too is a space where having white privileges will get you places) and talk about these issues that have been becoming more and more prevalent.

our voices are not heard and when they are heard they get twisted by white and non-black fans who prioritize their love for shipping and their male centeredness over racism within fandom and more importantly: racism that is perpetuated by them. a very loud portion of this fandom has painted an image of "angry black women" without ever actually calling them black women because they are socially aware enough to know that it is racist to say so. instead they say it in different ways: they call us rabid, they call us delusional, they call us homophobic straights and love to strip us of our queerness in the same breath, they call us ableists even though this fandom has had several conversations about this, they call us aggressive, they say we are jealous of a mlm ship, they say we are irrational, they call us everything but the one thing we are: black. yet the painted picture is very clear to me and surely every other black person who has ever engaged dominantly white spaces: the big black bully! this is the easiest way to "aggressive black woman" your way through genuine critcism without ever saying it w those words nor acknowledging the thing you are criticized for.

and it becomes even more obvious when you read-over and over again-those attempts at demonizing an overtly black part of fandom (which mel/meljay fandom is and which i will come back to later) while NONE ever mention the things black people ARE saying because whenever you get ratioed for cuck art, whenever you get asked why you erase mel from the story, whenever people ask where mel is in arcane character group arts, whenever you mischaracterize mel for a mlm ship, whenever you strip her of her feelings, whenever you make her an abuser, whenever you dehuminaze her, whenever you deify her, whenever you cry that you cannot criticize her yet dont ever criticize her outside of that ship you so like, whenever any of this happens black fans HAVE and WILL tell you that this is antiblack, its misogynistic, but most of all-since a word for this phenomenon already exists-it is misogynoir. you are participating in misogynoir. your every like is supporting misogynoir. the active erasure of a black woman in fandom is misogynoir. whenever you strip black fans of their credibility to speak out against racism bc we are just "crazy shippers on an agenda", that is misogynoir too. people who arent in this fandom have been clocking this. they see us saying this. they avoid watching the show or engaging w this fandom because the misogynoir is so prevalent here and it is unchallenged by everyone but black people and a few allys who actually mean their shit when they talk about allyship.

the rest of you barely skim our texts or just go "well im not racist so this doesnt apply to me" instead of listening to us trying to explain what the issue is. you guys are so sure that you are a good ally, that you arent racist, that nothing you do is ever misogynoirist, yet you dont even realize that you dismiss or even silence black voices you dont like by villainizing every black fan who wants to talk about this and uplifting every black person who says the things you want to hear. to the point that a black user here can use the hard r and white people are trying to educate black people why that is okay or isnt okay. all while that person even apologized and had to tell you guys to not speak over black people in defense of them. do you not see that you are tokenizing the black voices you deem comfortable while ignoring every voice that asks for a little bit of accountability in your contribution to the horrid antiblackness on arcanetwt?

but, no, no, rest assured this doesnt just apply to the fans but to the character in question too after all there is a reason why meltwt/meljaytwt is so outspoken on this. it isnt about her partner being shipped w someone else, most of us dont even care for the ship, our issue is the constant attempt at erasing her from the relationship she was in and those are two completely different things even if you blatantly choose to look the other way and fabricate lies. mel medarda, despite always being spoken about as beautiful and complex and such a great character, so far even that people say they want her to leave jayce so they can have her for herself, has a very small following. she has less fics on ao3 than the others, barely any x reader ship despite so many people claiming to shipping themselves with her, she gets less solo art and even less w other people or her canonical ship. she is constantly being othered. just recently we had someone exclude her from group art and saying she was the teacher while her same aged peers were drawn as students. to many she simply doesnt exist and if you care about mel, if you actually do like her, if you seek out her content, this becomes abundantly clear real quick: mel does not exist as a main character to arcanetwt.

she is a side character to many of you. she is a side character like any other black women in fiction because you as fans were conditioned by young age to view black women as that. you are surrounded by the sassy black best friend, the angry black woman, the disposable black girlfriend who will always just be a temporary love interest, side character a and side character b - you grew up in a world where you view black women like that. that is why her fandom is so small. just like any other black female characters are small. no other main character gets this type of treatment other than her. and that her fandom is so small is just another indicator for that. and that it mostly consists of black fans is another indicator too because those very often are the only ones capable to see a black woman as a character in herself and not just a nice compliment in a sentence in between. this, too, is misogynoir btw and saying "well i just prefer this and this character" only works so many times before you gotta put the work in and question your racial bias and i am telling you YOU HAVE TO to OVERCOME that and i am telling you that because i too used to not care about black female characters.

i grew up in a very white society and was one of those kids who were trying to be as white as possible to cater to white ppl and i had to actively unlearn to ignore dark skinned women in any media and woah let me tell you once you do you realize there are so many beautiful characters to obsess over and so many new people to meet and it WILL change your view on a lot of things in fandom and it will make you AWARE and that is a good thing. you should be woke. being woke is a good thing no matter how many people say it isnt. its just nobody can do this for you but you yourself. you will see the mistreatment of fans and you will get angry about this and you will get uncomfortable too bc you might be nonblack you might even be white but that is just what it is and how its going to be and i appeal to you to be loud w us as well, to fight for a fandom space where white fans arent the only ones who get to enjoy sillies and whimsicals, where we can move and have fun w/o being confronted w unchallenged racism and people being too proud to work on their biases or even take any critcism, i beg you to not gaf about aesthetics and what you want your blog to look like and i beg you to not gaf about what your peers might think of you bc trust me you do not want to be the person belittling antiblackness for the sake of getting a few likes on an art piece where two people you like smooch.

this affects real black people even if arcanetwt wants to say we arent real or dont care about black issues. this is a black issue just like it'd be w any recreational activity

#arcane #mel medarda #racism in fandoms #posted this on twitter but tumblr definitely needs to hear this too #kds.txt

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scoobydoodean · 3 days ago

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it's SO funny how crowley latches onto dean even tho sam is the one he feels "sentimental" about. bro was like. oh wow the human blood made me think i was in love with u or some shit, embarrassing. is your brother single? and i think that's why sam hates him

One thing I am noticing about Sam is that he is very anti-demon after season 4, which is understandable. We see this most strongly with Crowley in season 5, but it's not just Crowley—it's Meg too. And Sam and Dean also have many other reasons to hate Meg. But like Sam comments twice about how wary he is about them working with Meg in season 7, even if her only role is to keep watch over Cas at the hospital because they have no other options.

SAM I don't know. I mean, we can't just leave him. DEAN Well, we can't bring him with us. Everything on the planet's out for us, okay? Word gets out, we can't protect him. Not really. This is safer. Every demon who knows about Cas is dead. SAM Not everyone. Look, Dean, this whole "enemy of my enemy is my friend" thing feels kind of like a demon deal. DEAN It's not a deal. It's – SAM It's what? DEAN Mutually assured destruction. Look, man, I get it. She's not our friend. We don't even have friends. All our friends are dead.

It's funny because people often perceive Dean as this very dogmatic figure who can't handle the idea of working with demons and hates Ruby just because she's a demon, but he is the first person to trust a demon (the often forgotten Casey from 3.04). He never trusted Ruby, but he saved her bacon twice (3.09 and 3.10) because he actually does understand the concept "the enemy of my enemy is my friend". He shows this again with Crowley in 5.20 (an episode titled "The Devil You Know" which is rather pointed). Sam doesn't trust Crowley one iota. He tried to kill Crowley in 5.10 right after Crowley gave them the colt, and I actually think that interaction is what makes Dean decide Crowley can be trusted as an ally against the devil. In 5.20, Dean decides Crowley is on their side and agrees to go with him on a solo mission without Sam (because Crowley does not trust Sam not to shoot him) and Sam is so upset about it he vents to Bobby on the phone lol. (To Dean's credit, when Crowley tries to convince Dean to keep the Brady secret from Sam under the suspicion that Sam will fly off the handle, Dean refuses to lie to his brother).

But yeah I mean joking about Deancrowley aside, Sam has a strong distrust of demons post season 4 and has hated Crowley from day one. He 100% connects him with Ruby, and I don't know that his general distrust of demons or his hatred for Crowley in particular ever truly goes away. I mean I think there's a reason season 13 Dean only dares mention losing Crowley in a private prayer to god while shouting to the roof tops over Cas when it's made clear to him that Sam wants to ignore his death. I think Sam's probably at least a little resentful that Dean seems to be pretty good at figuring out when he can and can't trust a demon not to backstab them. Add the "summer of love" and Crowley's gloating about it and the resentment just builds and builds. Rowena didn't need to do any convincing to get Sam to kill Crowley for her lmao.

#crowley #sam and crowley #meg #sams motivations #sams moral compass #sort of #idk how to tag this one need to add some sam tags ig #mail #that little fallen angel on your shoulder #3.04 #5.10 #5.20 #3.09 #3.10 #13.03 #13.01 #deancrowley #7.17

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spencewalterreid · 2 days ago

Text

Family Tree (Intro)

part 1. part 2.

Summary: Deeply religious 6-year-old Ethel Cain grapples with her turbulent home life with the help of her best friend, Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Spencer Reid / Ethel Cain (p, young age)

Category: Angst, hurt/comfort. Some fluff.

Warnings: brief sexual scene but not exactly smut, cigarettes. Please see master list for overall warnings for the whole series.

Word Count: 4.5k

Author's Note: Those of you that have been paying attention to my recent posts know I'm starting a new series: Preacher's Daughter. Essentially, a chronological account of Ethel Cain's life, with the addition of best friend Spencer Reid. First couple chapters are going to be strictly from Ethel's point of view, but once we get to Western Nights, it'll start flipping between Ethel's POV and Spencer's POV, which will be trying to solve the case of the adrenaline-fueled murders of Willoughby and Ethel as they traverse the west coast. I understand this probably won't be as popular as the Spencer-centered fics, but I hope you guys stay with me!! This was really fun to write and I have a feeling it will only get moreso <3 Please let me know what you think!! Leave as much feedback and as many suggestions as you please, they really help me out. Feedback from you guys is what keeps me going. With all that being said, enjoy the first chapter!

July 8, 1972

It gets hot in Alabama. Blistering, really. Ethel writhed in the grass, trying to find a spot that was still cool, damp from the morning dew. She’s lying under an oak tree in the yard in front of her father’s farm house, mud pressing itself into her white sundress. She’s drenched in sweat, which she thinks might be contributing to the ever-increasing dirt patch under her. The grass tickles the backs of her shoulders as she turns on her side toward the boy beside her, folding her hands under her head.

Spencer had been her best friend since she could remember. She met him when she was two, her mother would tell her. Back then, his hair was always combed back, the curls politely laying into one another. Now, eyes closed and a faint smile on his lips, his hair was wild, brown chunks across his forehead and the ground behind him. His arms were out next to him, fingers splayed against the soft greenery. He’s gotta be hot in that, she thinks, observing his short-sleeved button-up shirt and long, tan pants.

Hearing the shuffle of the grass, Spencer turns toward his companion and attempts to open his eyes, but quickly squeezes them shut again to shade himself from the sunlight with his left arm, then cautiously tries again. He succeeds, gaze landing on the gaunt girl.

“What are you thinking about?” Ethel asks, voice soft.

Spencer shuffles back into his previous position for the most part, but leaves an arm across the upper half of his face. “I dunno,” he sighs. “I’m thinking I don’t wanna get up tomorrow morning.”

Ethel frowns. “What do you mean? We have to. Church is tomorrow.”

“I know that,” he groans. “But I have school on Monday, and it sucks to cut the weekend short,” Spencer replies. “Just because you get to sleep in every day…”

“I don’t sleep in,” she counters with a pout, admiring the soft slope of his chin and the bristle of his shirt in the passive breeze. “Daddy gets me up every morning no later than 8.”

“I have to get up at 6,” he whines, “and my mom never wakes me up in the mornings.”

“That’s because she’s got the devil in her,” Ethel whispers solemnly. “His voice keeps her up at night, so it’s hard for her to wake up.”

Spencer turns over completely this time, still shielding himself with his hand, but looks hard at Ethel. He fights the urge to roll off of his shoulder which is now digging into the hard ground. “I wish you’d quit saying that.”

“Daddy says she’s got the devil in her,” Ethel repeats reasonably, nodding to herself. “It isn’t her fault, Spence, Lucifer can tempt anybody.” She reaches a hand out to touch his shoulder. “It’s okay,” she smiles. “I’ll keep praying for her, and-”

“Ethel!”

She snaps upward and Spencer quickly follows suit, catching sight of her father looming at the end of the porch, frightening and large, thick arms folded across his chest. “You have no right to be touching my daughter like that, boy,” he shouts, stomping down the steps and crossing the yard to the tree. Spencer scrambles up to his feet, glancing back at Ethel for a moment before her father’s firm hand is covering Spencer’s small bicep.

“He didn’t do anything, Daddy!” Ethel cries, standing up as well to try to pull Spencer back.

“It’s okay, E, I’ll-”

Her father shoves a hand against her chest, knocking her to the ground. “You mind your business, child, I’ll deal with you shortly,” he spits, glaring down at her before dragging Spencer behind him, across the street to his house.

***

July 9, 1972

The church is packed like a can of sardines. In a town like this one, everyone goes to church. It’s non-negotiable. Ethel sits in the second row back, twisting in her seat to try to get a look behind her. Spencer isn’t here yet. On any other day, Spencer would attend with the Cain family, but given her father’s impressive ability to hold a grudge, it didn’t surprise her when he failed to offer this morning. It’s 9:32, two minutes past the time Pastor Dan would start service.

“Quit ‘yer squirming,” Dad demands, a tight hand on her shoulder to pull her back down to her seat.

“Spencer is late,” she whispers, talking to herself more than her father.

Dad screws up his face in disgust, scoffing. “Don’t you worry yourself about that heathen. He’s where he belongs, with his filthy mother.”

“Please don’t talk about him like that,” she frowns. “He’s nice.”

“He’s a sinner,” Dad growls, “Now hush.”

Ethel folds her hands in her lap, defeated. Undoubtedly, she’s worried about her friend. She didn’t see him after his front door slammed behind him and her father yesterday afternoon. She assumes his mother was probably asleep, she usually was these days. Spencer said she hasn't been feeling well recently, but if she’s honest, Ethel can’t remember a time where his mother was feeling anything but lousy. She barely hears the words leaving the pastor’s mouth until her father pinches her harshly on the arm.

“Pay. Attention.”

She bites her lip and tries to listen.

“It is our duty as God’s children to take in those who need to hear the Word. Those who put themselves above the Lord, those who lie, those who cheat, those who commit adultery. Those who do not repent for their sins shall surely perish, Amen?”

A chorus of agreement amongst the crowd rings out. Ethel worries her bottom lip. Her father shoots her a pointed look, but says nothing.

“Romans 6:23,” he begins, spreading a bible across the podium in front of him. There’s an opaque rustling up and down the aisles of parishioners hunting for the verse. “‘For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.’ God expects us to sin, for we are all imperfect; however, when you admit this in the face of our Lord, you shall surely be forgiven. Amen?”

Again, a mindless repetition of the word. Ethel has never liked that part of church. Every Sunday, the same speech more or less, and she doubts anyone in the room thinks twice about it aside from herself. She doubts anyone in the room disagrees with anything he’s ever said. Like last week, when the sermon denounced all who lie, even when it is to save themselves. She recounts all the lies she’s told, or at least tries to. There are far too many to catalogue, even if she wrote them down each time. When Spencer threw a rock at her window a few weeks ago, scratching a nick into it when he tried to get her attention after her father kicked him out. She’d blamed it on a falling branch. Or when his mother called that morning, demanding he be sent home immediately, though he was at school at the time. Ethel insisted his mother was overseas and got confused about the time zones. When her father asked why his mother would need him home if that were the case, she didn’t have a good answer. She wore long sleeves for a long time after that, and that was the second time one of her sisters let her use makeup. When her father asked where the bruises had gone, another lie: you hadn’t left any in the first place.

Ethel is pulled out of her thoughts when the entire room falls silent at the creak of the door. She whips around in her seat, ignoring her father’s warning hand on her thigh. She grins when she sees her friend, but her face falls pretty quick after that. He’s wearing a sweater, and she’s worried about his warmth even if it is his Sunday best. He catches sight of her and tries to yank a smile onto his quickly-reddening cheeks, but fails miserably. He tugs his sleeves further down his hands.

Spencer is a small boy as it is, but he looks downright tiny swallowed up in his second-hand clothes. His oxford shoes pad dully against the old, scratchy carpet as he travels up the aisles. He sits in the pew behind Ethel, next to a stately old woman who immediately recoils and scoots as far away from him as she can. Ethel smiles at his proximity, and he offers a shy wave.

The pastor remains silent for another few seconds for emphasis before continuing. “You know, in all my years of preaching, there’s one thing I’ve noticed,” he says, closing his bible and leaning his elbows against the podium, left ankle crossed atop the right. “Those who do not attend church regularly are often the ones with something to hide.”

Spencer feels so hot he may catch on fire at any moment.

“I’ve seen people – heathens,” he looks at Spencer, then away just as quickly, “--show their face in the house of God knowing damn well that they are representing the Devil. Do you know what happens to those… individuals?” he continues haltingly, as if it were a tall order for him to refer to Ethel’s friend as a human being. Her stomach twists at the thought. “God strikes them down.” He opens his bible again, rifling through it. “Psalm 28:3: ‘Do not take me away with the wicked and with workers of iniquity, who speak peace to their neighbors, but evil is in their hearts.’” He slams it shut. “That means,” he presses on, and now Ethel thinks he’s purposely looking anywhere but their direction, “that those who lie to God’s children and worship their own false deity in private are not to be considered one of us. The Serpent is cunning, and will try to convince you his cause is just; do not be fooled. These… these creatures… will say anything to make you believe they are of God. Do not believe their lies.”

Ethel glances back toward Spencer, a look of apology in her eyes. Her father pops her in the back of the head. “Eyes forward,” he hisses. She obliges. Spencer sinks further into his pew, wishing the ground would swallow him whole.

***

The fresh breeze blowing through the valley the church house resides in isn’t as refreshing as Ethel hoped it would be as she shuffles out the door, accompanied by the other youths, the adults trailing a bit behind. As much as her father would abhor it, he can’t see her in the throng of people, and her hand finds Spencer’s as she falls into step next to him.

“Hey,” she whispers, squeezing encouragingly. He chances a glance at her.

“Hey back.” He looks sad. She tilts her head.

“What happened yesterday?” Ethel looks behind her subtly to make sure no one’s paying attention. She concludes they’re in the clear.

Spencer kicks a rock out of his way and lets go of Ethel’s hand, opting to shove his own into his pockets. “I’m just glad Mom wasn’t roused enough to hear it,” he says.

“I’m sorry.” She tilts her head down and forward to try to catch his eye under his thick curtain of hair, and notices for the first time a red-blue splotch of colour next to his nose. “I didn’t know he’d do that to you.”

“Really? You didn’t see that coming at all?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “I’ve seen what he does to you. It was only a matter of time.”

Ethel sighs, pulling Spencer out of the crowd and to the side of the building, hidden by the shrubbery. “Daddy is nice to me,” she insists, a trying expression on her face. “He loves me.”

“I don’t believe you,” he replies, squinting his eyes. “Your dad loves you just about as much as God loves me.”

She doesn’t quite know what he means by that, so instead of saying anything actually reassuring, she says, “God loves you. He loves all of his children.”

Tears well up in Spencer’s eyes. He crosses his arms and slumps against the dirty panels on the side of the church. “Why, then? Why is he keeping my mom sick, why does he let your dad be mean to you?” He yanks his arms out of the position they were in, in favour of digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, roughly shaking the tears loose.

Sometimes words were futile, Ethel realizes, even if she hadn’t learned how to describe that to herself yet. Making the best choice she could think of, she takes a step forward and gathers her friend into her short arms. “I’ll pray for you,” she says into his ear. Spencer hesitates before placing his hands gingerly onto her back. He nods, even though he knows her prayers are redundant. If he’s a heathen, God probably wouldn’t even take a second glance at Ethel. No one who associates with someone like him is worth God’s time, probably.

“Thank you,” he says anyway. Sometimes you just need to let people think they believe in something. Even if they’re lying. Spencer has learned it makes people feel better to lie, they find it comforting, even if he hasn’t learned why yet.

***

December 13th, 1972

Ethel squints at the mirror, cross-legged on the carpet of her bedroom floor. She studies the red on her lips, garish if she’s honest, and tries to convince herself it makes her look pretty. She tilts her head this way and that, and considers if a different shirt might compliment it more.

At the sound of a knock on her door, she just about jumps out of her skin. “Um- Hang on!” she shouts, rubbing the back of her hand against her mouth to remove the lipstick. The door opens. “I said-” she looks up and sees her big sister, Joanna. “Oh.”

Joanna grins, pearly white teeth matching perfectly with her long, wavy blonde hair. Ethel always admired, maybe envied, her sisters. They were all beautiful. Slim, but not skinny like Ethel. They always looked happy, their joy contagious in its exuberance. They were kind, godly girls. All three of them. Joanna was the oldest, 19. She presses the door shut behind her.

“Oh, honey,” she coos, kneeling down on the carpet next to Ethel. “You can’t just wipe off red lipstick.” She gets on her hands and knees to lean past her little sister and pick up a box of Kleenex, pulling a couple tissues out before setting it down again. She wets it with her saliva. “Tighten your mouth,” she instructs, pulling her lips taut against her teeth. “Like this.”

Ethel complies, and Joanna sets to work pulling the pigment away from her skin as best as she can. “You really shouldn’t be using my makeup, you know,” Joanna chides. “If Dad saw this-”

“Please don’t tell Dad!” Ethel pulls away to sqeak, putting her hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry, I won’t-”

Joanna puts a soothing hand on Ethel’s shoulder. “Hush. I’m not gonna tell Dad.”

Cautiously, Ethel returns to her previous position and her sister continues her work.

“All I’m saying, you could get yourself into a lot of trouble. You have a knack for that lately.” Satisfied with the result, or at least as satisfied as she was gonna get, Joanna crumples up the Kleenex tissues and conceals them between her palms. “You’re very pretty just as you are, you know that?” she leans in just a bit, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Very pretty.”

Ethel giggles. “Not as pretty as you,” she replies, dragging out the last vowel. Joanna smiles that perfect smile yet again, ruffling Ethel’s hair.

“I’m going to the store, do you want to come with me? I’m gonna get some ice cream,” she says with a wink. In a hurry, Ethel scrambles onto her feet, eager to get out of the house.

Passing through the living room, they’re stopped by the news on the TV.

“Earlier this evening, Dan Sanderson was found hanging in the front yard of his Nebraska home. The Sanderson family is not disclosing-”

The TV is shut off before it can continue. Ethel glances at the couch to investigate the loss, and notices her father for the first time since leaving her room. “Daddy?” she inquires, tears filling her eyes. “Isn’t that-”

“Pastor Dan,” Joanna interrupts, reaching for Ethel’s hand. “Oh, my God,” she gasps, pressing her free hand to her mouth.

Ethel sniffles, a hiccup bubbling in her throat. Dad exhales sharply, rubbing his face. “Church should be interesting,” he comments with a chuckle, before bringing a glass of whiskey to his lips. “Where are you girls going?”

“The store,” Joanna replies, voice distant and distracted.

“Leave Ethel here.”

The two glance at one another from behind the couch. Their father still hasn’t even bothered to spare them a well-meaning look.

“But-”

“No. I’m not asking. Be back in 20 minutes, Jo,” Dad demands, and knowing better than to argue, the older girl concedes.

“Yes, sir,” she sighs, letting go of Ethel’s hand. She leans down to kiss her younger sister’s head. “I’ll be back soon with some chocolate chip, okay?” Joanna asks, fingertips against Ethel’s cheek.

“Okay,” she nods.

Ethel stays put until a few moments after the door clicks shut, processing the death of the pastor. She’s never known anyone who was dead before.

Dad looks at her for the first time today, sitting up and poking his head over the couch. “Come here, darlin’.”

She crosses the room with tiny, shuffling steps, coming to stand next to the soft leather sofa. Dad takes her wrist, not unkindly, and pulls her toward him, and she has to get onto the furniture to comfortably follow his tugging. He nestles her under his arm, fingertips rolling the hem of her dress distractedly as he unpauses the TV.

“Do you want to watch cartoons?” he offers, knuckles against her lower thigh, just above her knee.

Ethel doesn’t reply, eyes glued to her father’s heavy, broad hand on her dress.

“I asked you a question.”

“Okay,” she says, for the second time in the last two minutes.

Satisfied, Dad lays his head back against the arm of the couch, and Ethel nestles herself into his side. They stay like that for a while, bold two-dimensional colours casting an uncomfortably blue glow over the room. Joanna comes home unceremoniously, puts the ice cream in the freezer, and trudges back to her bedroom. Ethel assumes the other two are probably also in their bedrooms. She realizes she hasn’t even spoken to them in a couple of days. They’ve been distant lately.

“Daddy?”

“Hm?”

When she looks up, she sees his eyes are closed and at some point, he’d finished his glass of whiskey; it’s sitting empty on the side table.

“Can I go see Spencer?”

Suffice it to say, Ethel does not leave her bedroom for the rest of the evening and the better half of the next day.

***

December 17, 1972

Dad took over for Pastor Dan the very Sunday after his death. Ethel wondered if they’d take a week off to mourn, but honestly, she should have known better. It was silly, in retrospect.

Her sisters actually happened to like Spencer, which was very lucky for Ethel. That meant while Dad was in front of the congregation, she got to sit next to her friend. They walked together today, a nice change of pace from driving with Dad. The only reason Dad let them go together was the promise that Joanna, Hope, and Allison would go with her. They were considerate enough to walk a good distance behind Ethel and Spencer.

The sermon made Ethel sick. The look on her father’s face as he talked about a father’s duties was… personal. He watched her and her sisters for most of it. She sank under his unforgiving stare as he spoke about protecting your brood, about keeping them close, and keeping them pure. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but she liked that it made Spencer hold her hand.

***

March 23, 1980

“Aren’t you- worried- your dad- will come in?” the boy asks between presses of Ethel’s lips to his. She isn’t sure of his name (William? He said Will, she thinks?), and she’s less sure she cares.

Ethel shakes her head. “No,” she mumbles, hands firmly on the boy’s shoulders, knees on either side of his hips. “He’s out cold.”

She slides her grip down his biceps, then to his waist, and pulls the hem of his shirt up his abdomen. He obediently lifts his arms to allow her to yank it over his head, then makes quick work of removing her own top.

For a moment, she has the instinct to cover up. One of her biggest insecurities (aside from the evil, ungodly thoughts in her head) is how skinny she is. She’s all leg, skin and bone from head to toe. She tries to eat more, really she does, but she’s nauseous so often that it’s hard to keep it down. She wonders fleetingly why Dad hasn’t said anything about her continuously dwindling figure.

Her spiral is interrupted when the boy groans, going to grope her chest. He drags his thumb across a stick-n-poke tattoo, a cross just below her collarbone. Ethel’s stomach lurches, sending a rush to her head. I shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be doing this. This is a sin. I can’t take this back. God will know I’m not a virgin. He’ll know I’m not pure anymore. What if Daddy can tell? What if he doesn’t love me anymore? What if he stops-

She groans when he rocks his hips into her, making his erection very apparent. In that moment, she really could not give a damn about her father – for that matter, either of her fathers.

***

March 29, 1980

“You sure you don’t want a puff?” Ethel offers, cigarette dangling from between her index and middle fingers. Spencer shakes his head, which is currently resting on his interlocked fingers, elbows bent out to the sides as he stares at the night sky.

She finally got Spencer to come over again for the first time in a long time, considering the last visit ended with Dad damn near strangling him in an alcohol-fueled stupor (which is becoming more and more common), insisting he “had the devil in him”.

“Suit yourself,” Ethel shrugs and takes another drag. “Do you ever think about having sex?” she asks bluntly, snuffing out the cigarette on a shingle and turning her head toward Spencer. He chokes on a breath, sitting up slightly to get a better look at her.

“What?”

“Don’t what me. Don’t act like you haven’t considered it,” she says, sitting up on her elbows. “I mean, seriously, Spence. Have you even had your first kiss?”

He deflects expertly. “Have you?”

Ethel holds a puff of air in her cheeks then blows it out sharply, laying back down and interlocking her fingers over her stomach. She considers telling him. For the last week, she hasn’t stopped thinking about her night with that boy. It felt nice to finally go all the way, felt nice to not walk away from a sexual encounter feeling positively filthy. To be able to call the shots for once, not worry about the stakes of your performance quality. Ultimately, she decides against it. “How’s college?” she asks bitterly.

“No, E, what were you gonna say?” Spencer sits up completely, crossing his ankles under his shins.

“Spence, drop it, please?” Her voice is soft, almost scared. It sounds like a prayer, breathy and secretive, like if she said it too loud, the request was sure not to be granted.

“What happened?” he matches her tone, sweet and calm, just as he always has been. Ethel thinks she’s never heard him raise his voice before, even minimally.

“I snuck a boy in,” she replies before she can stop herself. “We, uh. We did it.”

She wanted to use the word. The dirty one. She wanted to use the word she couldn’t use while that boy was inside her, no matter how hard he tried to get her to. She wanted to swear, really she did, but she couldn’t. Funny, the lines a 16-year-old-girl draws.

“How do you feel?” Spencer picks up her hand, toying with the couple of rings on her fingers.

“A little chilly, and the roof isn’t very comfy,” she replies, wiggling to emphasize her point, but careful to keep her hand in his grip.

Spencer glares. “You know what I meant.”

Ethel sighs, deep in her chest. ��I don’t know,” she replies. “I mean, I liked it. It felt good. I just…”

“You can’t stop thinking about him,” Spencer adds delicately, not managing to meet his friend’s eye.

“Yeah.” Ethel swallows thickly, dragging her fingertips of the hand Spencer has held captive against his palm.

Spencer shifts a bit to get closer and adjust his grip, commencing a massage on the back of her hand. “I’m always here with you. If it gets to be too much…”

“I know,” she whispers, voice cracking. She drops her chin to her chest. “Thanks.”

Ethel lets Spencer keep her hand but lays back against the roof, closing her eyes with a sigh at his nimble fingers working the muscles.

“He was pretty, you know? Real pretty. Sharp,” she says, and she imagines the pinched expression on Spencer’s face; eyebrows knit tightly, lips pursed. “I like him a lot, Spence. I think I could fall in love with him,” she continues with a dazed smile.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” he says. “For that matter, you shouldn’t have even been having sex before you got married. It’ll be hard to go to confession when the preacher is your father.”

She knew he wasn’t judging her. It wasn’t unkind, the way he spoke to her. She’s grateful for that.

“I know,” she mutters, smile falling. “I just…” She opens her eyes to find Spencer watching her carefully with exactly the expression she expected. “I wanted to believe someone could find me beautiful.”

“I find you beautiful.”

She could cry at the sincerity, and almost does. She swallows the lump in her throat.

“Yeah, but not beautiful enough to make love to me, right?” Ethel scoffs, shaking her head.

Spencer stops his ministrations on her hand, laying it gently on his knee, still carefully clasped in his own. “Maybe,” he whispers, eyes downcast. Ethel perks up at this, sitting up and leaning on her elbows.

“Really? I mean, maybe I should just strip now,” she says with a grin. Spencer returns it.

Ethel lays back down, a giggle bubbling up in her throat. Spencer remains quiet and lets the smirk play against his mouth for a while.

“Are you getting cold?” he asks, rolling his shoulders.

“A little. Sleepy, for sure.”

Spencer stands up and pulls Ethel with him. Before ducking back in through the window, he stops her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Be careful with that boy, okay? Take it slow, keep your eggs in different baskets.”

Ethel rolls her eyes. “Screw off, virgin.”

Spencer goes home that night with a flurry in his stomach and an uncomfortable tension in his pants.

Tag List: @darkmatilda @lizzys-sunflower.

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decayleside-blog · 2 days ago

Text

My Headcanons about

Jack Marston

(Post RDR1)

𐚁

Jack Marston spends years wandering with no real purpose. He drinks to forget, but it only makes the memories louder. Whiskey burns, but not as much as the ghosts in his head. He sees John in the bottom of every bottle, Abigail in the morning light that filters through the saloon window, Uncle in the ache in his bones. He drinks anyway.

𐚁

The West is dying, and he’s dying with it. Horses are slowly replaced by cars, dirt roads by pavement, outlaws by men in suits with pens that kill faster than bullets. The land that raised him has no place for him anymore.

𐚁

“You're John Marston's boy, ain'tcha?” He hears it in every town, every bar, every two-bit gambler who thinks they know his story. He stops correcting them. Maybe it’s easier that way. Maybe Jack Marston doesn’t exist anymore—maybe he never did.

𐚁

He tells himself he doesn’t care. That he never cared. That revenge didn’t leave him hollow, that his father’s last words don’t echo in his head. Don’t make the same mistakes I did, son. Jack laughs about that sometimes.

𐚁

His mother’s grave is the only place he visits every year. Rain or shine, he sits there and talks to her. Sometimes he's drunk, sometimes he's sober, but he always asks if she’s disappointed in him.

𐚁

He never stays anywhere too long. Towns blur together, faces fade. He learns to keep his heart locked away—attachments are just another thing to lose.

𐚁

But then, something happens. Maybe it’s someone who doesn’t flinch at his name. Maybe it’s the way a horse still feels more like home than any house ever could. Maybe it’s just waking up one morning and realizing he’s still here, still breathing.

𐚁

Jack tries. He’s still bitter, still mean, still has blood on his hands. But he stops running. He lets himself have something—someone—worth staying for.

𐚁

Jack gets old. He wakes up one day and realizes he survived where none of them did. And maybe, just maybe, that means something.

𐚁

And so he writes. He writes it all—the fall of the Van der Linde gang, his father’s last ride, the blood, the dust, the ghosts that never quite let go. He calls it “Red Dead”.

𐚁

Maybe no one will read it. Maybe no one will care. But at least, for once, the story is told by someone who lived it.

Here's some angsty headcanons I wanted to make for quite some time :'

core and sunset dividers made by @deltamel !

→ Check 𐚁 mel's graphics for more!

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scam-alerts · 1 day ago

Text

🔎Scam Exam(ination)🔍(updated x/x/xx)

Seen as: Selling HRT / Testosterone Scam Type: Fake Product / Fraud

Platform: Tumblr

-----

This scam mostly targets LGBTQ+ individuals, mainly Trans folk who post in such related tags.

Those who do may receive a DM, comment, ask, or any such related contact from another tumblr user who claims to be a certified™ Doctor, Therapist, Pharmacist, ect, who is trying to offer you a 'new and amazing' drug that's not on the market, or a 'cheap alternative medicine' to name brand HRT or Testosterone.

One such account that popped up recently of this is drfelixortega.

Here is what their tumblr page looks like:

And this is the ask that they are sending users:

(Screenshot taken from this post.)

If you visit their page, you will only find six posts.

All very generic in nature.

None of which link to any sort of certification or credentials that prove that this person is a 'real' doctor. They just say they are a totally real (no fake) Doctor and expect people to go with it.

Like most scammers usually to do.

Here's another version of where another HRT scammer leaves comments on peoples posts:

-----

Why this is a scam:

1 - The risk.

Purchasing any sort of drug online from a shady dealer is not only a good way to get scammed, it's a good way to get sick and possibly even die. You have no idea what sort of ingredients are in the pills these supposed Doctors online are trying to sell you.

There was a story that surfaced on my local news station that talked about how in South Korea, capsules were seized that contained the contents of herbs and a mixture of human flesh/DNA.

When tested, the human material was found to belong to infants.

If you wish to read more, you can find the 2015 article here. But be warned, it is very graphic. (No pictures)

2 - The scam.

I know that getting HRT or even Testosterone can be hard, and I know how the struggle and the desire to truly be yourself can become overwhelming. Your insurance may not pay for it, or you might not even have insurance to begin with, leaving without hope at all in your journey to begin transitioning.

But that still doesn't mean you should believe every offer that seems too good to be true the moment you're offered it online.

Think about these things for a second:

Why would a doctor, surgeon, pharmacist, what have you, be on Tumblr of all places? Why would they browse the trans tag, or other such related tags, to find potential 'clients?' Don't you usually have to make an appointment with a doctor? For your insurance to then pay for to cover your medicine? How can a board certified pharmacist.. be a gender assessment surgeon at the same time? (it's a lie, that's why.)

3 - The truth.

The truth of the matter is, you cannot, unfortunately, get HRT or Testosterone without a Prescription.

And buying it online from any sort of 3rd party website or manufacturer is simply putting not only your wallet at risk, but your life at risk.

Here is a screenshot taken from this GoodRX article:

Here is an article on the risks and dangers of buying unregulated / unlicensed HRT. One big one being that they can be contaminated.

And a final, general consensus from google:

-----

Final Thoughts:

As I've said in a few of my past scam Exam(inations), if something seems too good to be true, it most likely is. I know how life changing something can be and how desperate wanting it can make you, but please don't risk your wallet, or your life, for it.

Remember: These are just words these people offer you.

Ask for proof. If they send you any kind of images, remember, you can reverse image search them to try and find the source. If you get pushy in asking for their credentials they'll probably end up blocking you and just want you to 'trust them' or send you clearly edited photoshops.

Never give them your personal information or credit card information.

And never go to a strange website you don't know or have never heard of without googling it first.

You can also run it through something like VirusTotal to check if any of the big/main websites like Bitdefender or Kaspersky that detect things like phishing, viruses/trojans/maware, and all that fun stuff, have picked up on it being malicious.

Just... Be safe.

Please make sure you think before you talk to people like this.

Take care everyone. <3

----

Disclaimer: Tags are relevant to the content of this post. This is not 'tag spam' or 'unrelated'. I'm just spreading awareness about this scam targeting people taking hormone drugs like HRT which also includes people other than just trans folk. :)

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firefly464 · 2 days ago

Text

Word Count: 5,408

Fandom: 3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: Charles | Grian, Pearl | PearlescentMoon, Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar, Scott Major | Smajor1995

Additional Tags: POV Second Person, Character Study, Only Winners Remember the 3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series, Post-3rd Life SMP, Post-Last Life SMP, Post-Double Life SMP, Post-Secret Life SMP, Post-Wild Life SMP, oh boy this one goes through them all :DDD, Memory Alteration, 3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series-Typical Character Death, Charles | Grian-centric, Avian Charles | Grian, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Charles | Grian/Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar, kinda. again its more implied than anything, so! read as either /r or /p either way works :D, Implied/Referenced Suicide, its the end of third life. but he DOES in fact do it. and it IS talked about, Grian and his relationship with memory, Hurt/Comfort, GUYS THERES ACTUAL COMFORT IN THIS ONE I PROMISE

Series: Part 6 of Life after Life (again and again and again)

Summary:

You’re back. You’re back home and you’re safe and you’re alive.

You’re not in the desert and you’re not in your little panic bunker and you’re in your hobbit hole and you’re alive.

Your body doesn’t feel right. The skin is too loose. Your muscles feel too weak. It’s like someone ripped your soul from your body and couldn’t quite figure out how to put it back.

You numbly stare at your hands.

~~~

Or, an exploration of Grian and the memories that he is forced to carry.

~~~

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62846907

Or read it under the cut :D

~~~

There is no celebration when you win. There’s no applause as you hold your partner's broken body. No cheers as you push yourself up.

There is no one to reach out and scream your name as you step off the towering cliff.

There is only the ground rushing up to meet you.

And then there is only darkness.

~~~

You’re back. You’re back home and you’re safe and you’re alive.

You’re not in the desert and you’re not in your little panic bunker and you’re in your hobbit hole and you’re alive.

Your body doesn’t feel right. The skin is too loose. Your muscles feel too weak.

It’s like someone ripped your soul from your body and couldn’t quite figure out how to put it back.

You numbly stare at your hands.

Your hands.

Something’s wrong with your hands. You have no idea what it is but you know that something’s not right.

They’re still your hands obviously, but you can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right as you stare at them.

…

Your scars are gone. They’re gone.

You raise a hand to your face, feel the skin along your cheek. Nothing.

Every scar and mark and piece of evidence that you survived the past two months are just… gone.

You may not have liked them, but they were yours.

It feels wrong. Your body feels wrong, it’s broken, it’s completely disconnected from you and your breathing is speeding up and you know that you need to calm down but you can’t because it was always Scar that would help you calm down from a panic attack but Scar isn’t here right now because—

Scar. Scar.

The name cuts through your panic like a knife.

You’re back on Hermitcraft. Which means that Scar might be here.

Which means—

You need to find him.

~~~

Your flight to Scars base is far from graceful. Your landing even less so.

You can’t bring yourself to care. Not when Scar could be alive. Not when he could be so close.

“Scar!!!” You pound your fist against the door. “Scar open the door!!!”

No response. Shit.

This is taking too long. What if he isn’t here? Or what if he’s injured and he isn’t able to get to the door and he needs help and—

The door creaks open.

Scar is standing in front of you. He’s in front of you and he’s alive and his skin is warm and his eyes are green and he looks like he just woke up but he’s alive and you can’t stop the sob that bubbles up from your throat as you launch yourself at him and hug him tightly.

Later, you will look back and chide yourself for being so blind. For not noticing how wrong everything feels.

But that is later. And now is now. And right now all you care about is the fact that he’s here with you.

He stumbles back slightly, but he hugs you back regardless. “Whoa! Whoa… hey, it’s ok, you’re ok…”

It’s the same tone he used whenever you woke up screaming. It’s warm. It’s kind.

You pull back from the hug and grab his face so you can see it better.

He looks so different. His face is fuller, his hair is clean, most of the scars that you had spent so many weeks mapping out are gone, but it’s still so clearly him.

God. He looks so much better than he ever had back in the desert.

And his eyes… they’re green. Not blood red or sickly yellow or even the violent green of someone who has never lost a life. They’re simply… dark green.

You think you might start crying again.

“Uhhh, G? Not that I’m not flattered or anything but… are you ok?”

It’s such a ridiculous question, you want to laugh. He’s really asking if you’re ok. As if he’s not the one that was just beaten to death by the person who had stayed by his side through everything.

“Your eyes are green…” is what you say instead, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Yes…?” He looks confused. “Are they not supposed to be…?”

You don’t bother to hide the small huff of amusement. “No… no, green is good. Green is very good.”

“Good! That’s good! Um… remind me why it’s good?”

Something dark starts to form in the back of your mind. You grip his face slightly tighter. “B-because it means they’re not red.”

“Right, right, of course.” No recognition. “Uh, why would they be red?”

It’s like a bucket of ice water has been dumped on your head. You stumble backwards. You force yourself to look at him, to really look at him.

Oh. Oh god.

You’re so stupid.

The way he holds himself— it’s all wrong. It’s too relaxed, too gentle. There’s none of the harsh corners that had been carved out in the desert. None of the cruelty that had once lurked behind his gaze.

This isn’t your Scar. He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember.

He doesn’t remember the desert and he doesn’t remember what you’ve been through together and the world is crashing down around you and Scar is reaching out to grab you and your wings are unfurling out behind you as your face contorts into a snarl and Scar looks horrified and confused and you—

You don’t dare look back as you fly away.

~~~

You’re the only one who remembers. You’re the only one who remembers the hell that you went through.

Everyone that you mention it to asks you if you’re feeling ok. If you’ve been sleeping enough. They ask you if you’ve been having nightmares, or perhaps you’re feeling stressed? Have you considered taking some time off? Maybe you should take a vacation before everyone migrates to the new season, it might do you some good!

It doesn’t take long for you to stop asking.

Maybe they’re right. Maybe you really did make the whole thing up and it was nothing more than a dream. It’s not like you have any proof. Even your skin contradicts your story.

All you have left are your own memories.

You really hope everyone else is right.

~~~

The hope doesn’t make the nightmares go away. It doesn’t stop you from waking up screaming or flying over to Scar’s base in the middle of the night just so you can make sure that his skin isn’t grey and his eyes are green and that he’s safe.

It doesn’t change the fact that it takes weeks for you to be able to talk to anyone without a hand on your sword. Or the fact that it takes even longer for you to be able to talk to Ren without feeling sick. Or the fact that you constantly have to remind yourself that you have wings that work, that they aren’t just dead weight attached to your back.

But you hold onto the hope regardless. You’re not sure what you would do without it.

~~~

Season seven ends and season eight begins. You’re almost able to forget the entire thing ever happened.

Almost.

~~~~~

And then you’re pulled back in.

You’re not sure if you want to laugh or cry. On one hand, this means that it was real. It was real. The two golden hearts on your arm are proof of that. Proof that you weren’t losing your mind.

But on the other… you’re back. You’re back.

You reach out and grasp the memory of home. You find it and you hold it tight.

You don’t want to lose it again.

~~~

It doesn’t hurt as much when you wake up in Boatem this time. There’s no crushing guilt, no desperate need to find someone and check that they’re ok.

There is only the phantom ache in your gut of a respawn gone wrong.

Your injuries have been erased again. It feels just as strange and uncomfortable as it did the first time. Your skin doesn’t feel like your own anymore.

It’s going to take you a while to get used to it again.

You have no way of knowing who won. You were killed long before a victor was crowned.

You try not to think about it too much.

~~~

You find Pearl a few days later, sitting on the edge of the Boatem hole. Her feet dangle over the edge, over the gaping maw of certain death.

You have to stop yourself from reaching forward and pulling her back.

She’s fine, you tell yourself. Death is nothing more than an inconvenience here. You all sit there all the time. She’s fine.

She doesn’t react when you come sit next to her.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on empires?” That’s what the Boatem group calendar had said at least.

Her face scrunches up. “Decided to come back early. Scott was acting weird.”

“What?”

“Not like— mean, weird, just… weird. I don’t see him normally, but he keeps coming over and visiting. I heard someone say that he’s doing the same thing to Jimmy.”

You have a sinking feeling that you might know where this is going. “And?”

“He keeps looking at me like I’m already dead.”

~~~

<Grian> are you ok?

<Smajor1995> yeah, what’s up?

<Grian> Pearl said you’re being clingy

<Smajor1995> oh

<Smajor1995> yeah, I’m fine. Had a pretty bad nightmare a few days ago. Guess it freaked me out more than I realized.

The excuse would make you laugh if the circumstances were any different. It’s the same one that you’ve used over and over again. Normally, it’s enough to make people back off and stop asking questions.

Not this time.

<Grian> that’s fair. I did the same thing last time

<Grian> I wouldn’t let Scar out of my sight for a solid week after I woke up

You decide not to mention the way that you had panicked every time your communicator had buzzed with another death message. Or the way that you had rushed to his base so you could be there when he respawned. Or the crushing fear that he would wake up and his eyes would gleam red.

Scott doesn’t respond for several minutes. You don’t blame him.

<Smajor1995> why does no one else remember?

<Grian> I don’t know

~~~

The two of you plan to meet up on a separate server. There’s so much to talk about, so much to piece through. Far too much to try and talk about through messages.

And then season eight falls apart, and you’re never given the chance.

~~~~~

Soulmates. Soulmates. Who in their right mind thought that soulmates was a good idea. It’s ridiculous!

And the fact that you’re partnered up with Scar, of all people? Really?!

Not that you don’t enjoy being around him. Quite the opposite, actually.

That’s the part that scares you.

Because you know yourself. You know that if you don’t shut him out completely you’ll latch on tight and never let go.

Just like the desert.

You can’t go through that again. You can’t.

He’s going to think that you hate him.

That’s fine. It’s not like he’ll remember it.

~~~

You’re not surprised when Scott shows up at your door. You’re really not. The two of you still had to talk after all.

There had been an unspoken agreement between you that you wouldn’t bring it up around the others. No use in inviting unwanted questions.

What you are surprised by is the fact that he catches you as you’re sneaking out in the middle of the night.

He tries to ask you what you’re doing. You make up something about needing some fresh air.

It’s obvious that he doesn’t believe you. That’s fine. You don’t really need him to.

You talk about nothing for a bit, both of you dancing around the subject. As if that’ll make it any easier to handle.

In the end, he’s the one to bring it up first.

“I sort of expected you to be a bit happier about all this.”

You furrow your brow in confusion. Happier? Why on earth would you be happy about this?

“Yknow, being paired up with Scar, considering…” he waves his hand vaguely. “Yknow.”

Oh. That’s what this is about. You can hear the light teasing in his voice, but you’re not exactly in the mood.

“Right. Considering how I got to kill him with my own two hands, I’m absolutely thrilled.”

“… oh. Is that… is that what happened?”

“Yeah.” You don’t brother keeping the bitterness out of your voice.

“Were you the last two left?”

You glare at him. He seems to realize how stupid of a question it is.

“Right. Right, sorry. Um… have you tried talking to him about it?”

A startled laugh bursts free. “Talk to him? Really? Like how you’ve talked to Jimmy? Or Pearl?”

Scott flinches like he’s been hit. You try to bring yourself to care.

But then you think of Pearl, abandoned and alone in her tower, and it doesn’t quite work.

“I— that’s not—”

He’s stepping away. You’ve backed him into a corner.

Good.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to take my walk now.”

He doesn’t try to stop you from walking away

~~~

Your ears are still ringing when you wake up. God. You hate wardens. You hate them so much. They’re big and loud and they smell.

You’re such an idiot. Bringing a warden to the surface? Really? That was your grand plan? In what world was that going to end well?

You’re glad that Scar isn’t going to remember what happened. He’d never let you live it down.

Your communicator buzzes, drawing your attention. It’s a simple message, but reading it is enough to make your blood freeze in your veins.

<Smajor1995> Pearl won

You’re out the door in an instant.

Flying is never easy right after you wake up. It always takes you time to get re-accustomed to having working wings.

Last time, you had given yourself a few days to recover before you tried to fly, and even then you had made sure to practice on your own.

You can’t afford to give yourself that same luxury this time.

Because Pearl won and you had seen the way that she had unraveled in her tower on her own and oh god she’s going to remember that for the rest of time.

Your landing isn’t particularly graceful. You can’t bring yourself to care. Not when Pearl remembers everything she went through.

“Pearl? Pearl!!!” You bang your fist against the door. “Pearl if you don’t open the door in the next 10 seconds I’m coming in!!”

A few moments of silence. You hit the door again.

Then she calls out—

“You really wanna take that risk?”

“What?”

“That’s a closed door that opens inwards. You have no way of knowing what’s on the other side. You wanna take that risk?”

You desperately want to say that yes, of course you’ll take that risk. Of course you’ll walk through a shut door just so that you can make sure that she’s ok.

The words die in your throat.

She’s bluffing. You know that she’s bluffing. There’s no way that she would have had time to rig a trap.

But that doesn’t change the fact that your hand freezes on the doorknob.

Because what if she isn't lying? What if she’s telling the truth and there really is some horrific trap that’ll kill you the second you open the door?

Scar would never let you live it down if you get the both of you killed because you walked into a trap that you knew was there.

Except— no. Scar isn’t here. You’re not tied to him anymore. There’s no marks on your arm telling you how many lives you have left.

You’re fine.

You push open the door.

There’s no explosion. No potion or lava dropping from the sky, not even a weapon swinging down at your head.

There’s only Pearl. Clutching an axe and staring you down. She’s trembling.

Her eyes are narrowed in an expression that you’ve grown far too used to over the past few weeks. You have no doubt that she’ll cut you down with that axe the second that you so much as breathe in the wrong direction.

You can’t bring yourself to care. Because her eyes are blue again and the frostbite that had covered her fingers and legs is gone and the bright red jacket that she had shielded herself with is gone and she’s ok. You don’t think before you launch yourself at her, enveloping her in a hug.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you know full well how bad of an idea this is. You know full well just how easily she could cut open your stomach.

The rest of you couldn’t care less. All that you care about is the fact that her cheeks are streaked with tears and you don’t want her to go through this alone.

The axe falls to the ground. She wraps her arms around you. Her shoulders are trembling.

Later, she will tell you the full story of how she won. She will tell you about how Scott had looked her in the eye and decided her fate for her. You will watch as her face will contort with rage as she realizes the extent of the curse Scott has placed upon her.

You will watch as she storms out of the room, determined to find him and give him a piece of his mind.

But that is later. And now is now. And right now the only thing that’s important is that you wrap her in your wings and hold her tight.

~~~~~

You try to take a different approach during the next game. You allow yourself to go along with the lighthearted jokes that Jimmy and Joel come up with.

It helps for a while. You manage to forget that you’re all going to kill each other eventually. You forget about the heavy weight of time pressing against your neck.

But all good things must come to an end. And all the laughter in the world isn’t quite enough to drown out Jimmy’s scream as he falls to his death.

It’s not quite enough to make you forget the way that Joel begs for just a few more minutes.

You don’t even get to see him die.

You wonder how long they’ll haunt your nightmares.

~~~

<Smajor1995> martyn won

<Smajor1995> ill talk to him

At least it’s not you this time.

~~~

The next time you see Martyn, you can see the weight of his victory upon his skin. His smile is sharper than it was before, his eyes are more cruel.

You’re not surprised. It’s a change that you have seen before, and it’s a change you will see again.

You try not to think about it too hard.

~~~~~

This sucks. This really sucks. You can’t remember the last time you felt so alone during one of these games.

Well. You’re not technically alone, you have Etho and Cleo, but it feels… wrong. It’s like there’s a pane of glass between you and them.

You suppose that’s what you get for joining so late.

You should probably be grateful. It could always be worse. Scar is living proof of that.

You can’t help but feel bad for him.

It’s fine, you remind yourself, it’s fine.

It’s not like he’s going to remember.

~~~

Thirty minutes. That’s how long you’re given to recover from the game. Thirty minutes.

Maybe even less. You don’t really know.

But now your communicator is open and you can’t tear your eyes away from the message on it.

<PearlescentMoon> scar won’t wake up

You can’t move. The world has frozen around you. Or perhaps nothing has changed. You don’t know.

Your communicator buzzes again.

<PearlescentMoon> hello?

<PearlescentMoon> please don’t tell me you’re also still asleep

<PearlescentMoon> I don’t think I can handle that right now

<Grian> I’m awake

<Grian> on my way

~~~

You’ve never thought about what happens to you during the games. All you know is that you spend nearly two months killing all of your friends, and then you wake back up in your bed with no one else even aware that you were missing.

Now, as you stare at Scar’s sleeping form, you really wish it had stayed that way.

Pearl had explained what happened when you arrived. She had explained how Scar had won.

It’s a miracle you didn’t start crying.

You don’t know where she is now. With Gem and Impulse maybe? They were the ones that had been looking for her. She had wanted to stay by Scars side, but you had encouraged her to go. You’d said something about how spending time with people who didn’t remember would be good for her.

You both ignore how obvious the lie is.

She must have realized that you needed time to yourself. You can't help but be grateful she knows you so well.

You had broken down the moment she had left the room.

The games were bad. They were always bad. But the bad was supposed to be contained. It wasn’t supposed to affect things out here, you were supposed to be able to move on.

You’re not supposed to be sitting by your friend's side, unsure if he’s going to wake up.

No. No he’s going to wake up. He has to wake up.

You don’t know what you’ll do if he doesn’t.

~~~

Pearl’s back. She looks a little better now.

That makes one of you at least.

~~~

“He’s going to hate me when he wakes up…” The admission cuts through the silence with ease.

“What do you mean?”

You open your mouth. Close it again. Try to figure out how on earth you’re going to explain this.

“I… How much have I told you about third life?”

And for the first time in nearly three years, you tell someone about the desert.

Pearl, to her credit, is a wonderful audience. She gives you her full attention, reacts in all the right places. She even teases you when your face turns red.

It’s nice. Almost enough to make you pretend that you aren’t describing one of the worst things that happened to you.

And then you reach the end. You tell her about the cactus ring. You tell her about the cliff.

“I didn’t think I was going to wake up…” you whisper. The realization sits heavy upon your heart.

The games always did that. They made you believe that each final death was permanent, that each time you took a red life, you were ensuring that your friend would never open their eyes again. It didn’t matter how many times you had woken up on Hermitcraft afterwards or how much of the old games that you remembered. The guilt was always there. Always.

You don’t think any of the winners had expected to wake up after all was said and done.

But the difference between them and you is that their deaths were all caused by an outside force. Yours? Yours had been a choice.

You can see the moment that Pearl comes to that same realization. She looks like she’s going to cry.

You keep talking.

“But then I did and no one else remembered.” You force yourself to take a deep breath. “I had to look him in the eye and realize that I was the only one who remembered what we had been through.”

You can see the moment that the pieces click together in her head.

“Oh…” She says softly, “That’s why, in double life, you…”

You think you might be crying too. “It was easier than losing him again.”

“He thought you were ashamed of him.”

“I know.”

“He thought you hated him…”

“I know…”

There’s nothing else you can say.

~~~

Mumbo is looking for you. You don’t want to leave Scar.

Pearl throws all your own arguments back in your face. She reminds you that you haven’t spoken to anyone since you woke up yesterday. You haven’t even gone outside.

Besides, you had agreed to not get anyone who hadn’t won involved. It was something you had agreed to when Pearl had first won. The last thing you wanted was for your friends to find out that they had killed each other over and over again.

It seemed more important than ever to stick to it.

If you ignore him he’ll probably come looking and you know that this will be one of the first places he checks and then you’ll have to explain why Scar is passed out and why you and Pearl have clearly been down here for the past day and…

Ok fine. Maybe Pearl is right and going with him is definitely the right call. That doesn’t mean you have to be happy about it.

~~~

You don’t remember much from your time with Mumbo. You just remember checking your com every few minutes, trying to see if Pearl had messages you.

He had threatened to take it from you if you kept checking it. You’re still not sure if he was joking or not.

Not that it mattered.

Scar is still asleep when you get back.

~~~

Another day passes. He still hasn’t woken up.

Pearl is the one who finally says what you’ve both been thinking.

“We need to tell X.”

You know. Logically, you know. One of the Hermits is in danger. He needs to know. He’d probably be able to actually do something, and then you wouldn’t just be sitting here doing nothing and being completely useless.

You really don’t want to.

Because telling X means telling him about the games. Telling X means that Scar is actually in danger. Telling X means admitting that something is actually wrong.

“One more day,” you say, “Give him one more day.”

~~~

Pearl isn’t there when it happens. She isn’t there when Scar opens his eyes with a gasp. And she most certainly isn’t there to see you jump five feet in the air and have to bite your tongue to keep yourself from screaming.

You want to launch yourself at him, to hold him tightly and make sure that he’s ok, but you force yourself to wait. You don’t know if it would make things worse.

He’s staring up at the ceiling. You’re not sure if he’s even realized that you’re there.

“Scar…?” You whisper gently.

Something is wrong. Something is deeply wrong.

Winning the games was a curse. It left a mark on you. A piece of canvas torn away.

You can always attempt to fix it, you can replace the fabric, attempt to remember what was over there, do your best to match the colors that once existed.

With time, you might get close. You might even reach a point where an outside viewer would never be able to tell that a chunk had been violently ripped out. But the damage will always be there. It will forever be changed.

You’re unsure if yours will ever come close to what it once was. You sometimes wonder if the people around you miss what it used to look like.

When Scar turns his head towards you, you feel your breath freeze in your lungs.

There’s no damage in his painting. No canvas missing, no smeared colors, nothing.

There’s nothing. It’s gone.

His gaze returns to the ceiling. He looks so tired.

“Now that’s just cruel…”

Words get caught in your throat. How are you supposed to respond to that?

He takes a deep breath, pushes himself to a sitting position.

He’s staring at you. You feel like you’re being studied.

You force yourself not to squirm.

“Scar?”

“Hold on.” He holds up a hand. “I’m trying to decide if you’re real or not.”

“If I’m— what?”

“If you’re real. It’s gotten very hard to tell. Come here.”

He reaches out. You stumble forward.

He grips your hand tightly. A finger presses against your pulse point.

He drops it. Pulls you down so that he can hold your face. Tears are starting to well up in his eyes.

You don’t dare move away.

His thumb presses into your cheek, right below your eye.

“Your scar is gone…”

You know which one he’s talking about. You had tripped over your own two feet while carrying supplies and hadn’t been able to catch yourself before slamming face first into the side of the mountain. Your cheek had been sliced by the exposed sandstone.

Scar had still been yellow at the time.

The wound itself had healed just fine, but it had scarred pretty badly.

He used to trace it with his thumb and say you were a matching set. That the desert had claimed you as her own.

“Yeah.” You lift your hand and gently place it on top of his. “It disappeared after 3rd life…”

It was the one scar you were truly upset about losing.

“Oh…” he doesn’t move his hand. “I’m so used to seeing you with it.”

You… you really don’t want to think about the implications of that.

“Is this real? Are you real?”

You can only nod in response.

“You promise? I’m not going to wake back up in Trader Scars?”

“I promise.”

“Ok.” He takes a deep breath. “Ok…”

Later, after Pearl arrives and tears are exchanged, she will be the one to ask the question that you’ve been dreading. She will be the one to ask him how long it’s been.

He will think about it for far too long before shrugging and saying something about how the sunflowers had started to wilt again, and your heart will plummet.

A year. What had been three days for you had been a year for him.

And you had done nothing to get him back.

~~~

Season nine comes to an end. You can’t help but feel a bit relieved when it does.

There’s too many bad memories here. Too many memories of sleepless nights with Pearl and Scar as you all tried desperately to forget the hell that you’ve been cursed to remember. Too many memories of finding Pearl clutching a bucket of snow in her hands, of walking in on Scar talking to the open air.

Season ten will be a breath of fresh air. A new start.

~~~

Time passes. You get settled in the new world. Things get better for all three of you. According to the message that you’ve been getting from Martyn and Scott, things are getting better for them as well.

There comes a moment when you realize that you can’t remember the last time you had a nightmare. It’s a wonderful realization to have.

You wonder if it’s over. If you’re finally free. It’s a kind thought. It feels warm.

And then you’re pulled back in.

~~~~~

Something is different this time. You can feel it from the second you wake up in that damned circle.

The Universe must have grown tired of you. That’s the only explanation you can think of for why it’s decided to interfere so directly this time.

You think you might hate it.

~~~

You manage to find Scar after things settle down a bit. He looks different.

His posture is more relaxed, his shoulders less tense. He seems more comfortable here than he has in the past year on Hermitcraft.

The realization makes you feel sick.

You can’t let it happen again.

You won’t let it happen again.

~~~

You reach the end. One of the last two.

There’s no ceremony this time. No fair fight, no pausing to burn the last few reminds of those you had killed.

There is only you and Joel.

And then you fall.

And only Joel is left.

~~~

He tells you that there was no celebration when he won. That there was no one there to cheer his name as he had knocked you off the tree. No one to join him in his victory lap.

He stares at you, demanding to know where all the other winners are. They all remember, right? Why on earth aren’t they here to congratulate him?

You shrug and attempt to explain that winning has never been something to celebrate. That it’s always been a more solemn achievement.

He tells you that you’re being stupid. That acting miserable about it only makes you feel worse. You won, didn’t you? You might as well act like it.

And for the first time, the thought of winning the games doesn’t weigh quite as heavy on your soul.

#WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO ITS DONE!!!#THE SERIES IS OFFICIALLY COMPLETE!!!!#god im so proud of how this entire series turned out #this fic especially was so so so much fun to write #I hope you enjoy it!!#Fire Writes :D #life series #3rd life #last life #double life #secret life #wild life #grian #pearlescentmoon #goodtimeswithscar #desert duo

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something-tofightfor · 11 months ago

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A PSA:

This wasn’t a post that I ever thought I’d make on here, but it’s something that I’m choosing to do because I want to be transparent about it - and about myself.

It was brought to my attention that there are people that used the information they knew about me gained through a private space to seek out my twitter account. They then used the discovery of my twitter to search for a slew of very specific words and phrases in order to drag up things that I may or may not have said throughout the years in order to use what they found against me and to paint me as a variety of things that I am not. Unfortunately, there were tweets that they did find. I’m not proud of the way I spoke and behaved online in my early 20’s. I said hurtful things, and portrayed myself - via these words - as something that I am completely ashamed of now. Of course, looking back, it’s easy to say “I definitely shouldn’t have said these things” - but that’s the truth. I shouldn’t have, and I regret that these things exist under my name, even if only via screenshot in present day.

I’m including some of the examples beneath the cut, because I don’t want to trigger anyone without their consent. But in the spirit of being open about the things I said in the past, I think it’s important to admit to them as an example of the way people can and do change their behaviors over time - and in recognition that these tweets do not reflect me as a person - or my feelings and opinions - any longer. (TW: the following images contain text that includes instances of racism and homophobia).

These tweets as well as others in the same vein I have been able to find have been deleted from my profile - which should have been done sooner - because they are horrifying to me as I look back on them. In reality, they never should have been tweeted in the first place. Many of them, I don’t remember tweeting, but that doesn’t excuse my past behavior - or negate the fact that they were up in the first place. These are not a reflection of me, today, as a person, and if I met younger Rachael, I would call her out on her shit immediately.

But as you can see, the dates show you that the majority are from well over decade ago - and in the time since, I’ve reevaluated a ton of things including the way that I speak, the things that I say, and the phrasing that I choose to use. Using terms like “gay” or “lesbian” in the manner that I used to is unacceptable. Bringing up race or ethnicity as a generalization for a group is also unacceptable. I have no ill will toward people based on their sexual orientation, race, gender etc.

I will also say that - because it is public information - I am a registered Republican voter (as I was encouraged to sign up that way when I turned 18) and have voted for occasional Republican candidates in recent local elections, but have not voted for a Republican presidential candidate since Mitt Romney in 2012. Many of my family members are Republicans as well, and before I really had a chance to be out on my own after college, I unfortnately echoed a lot of their sentiments about R vs D when it came to politics in my late teens and early 20's. I had a lot of issues with Obama's presidency, but NONE of them were based on his skin color. That tweet above absolutely fills me with shame even 13 years later, and I can't put into words how uncomfortable it makes me to know that at some point, I actually typed those words out and then POSTED them, because present-day me cannot reconcile with feeling that way and expressing that type of sentiment.

There is certain context, also, to the 'thanks for not being gay' tweets that wasn't shared - and while it doesn't excuse them, the phrase was used between the friend whose name is blocked and I due to the exact thing being said to HER by a coworker, and both of us thinking it was an absurd thing to thank someone for. And Spangler Park was a running joke in the city that I used to live in, due to the fact that the weekly police blotter was filled with reports of gay men using it as a meeting place for public sexual acts.

Trying to explain myself isn't a valid defense to much of the content here, but it's also important to remember that context matters in many cases - like with the Daniel Tosh (who is a comedian) reply, that was clearly in response to something he said on his own account, but what that was is unknown to me 13 years later since it wasn't a quote tweet.

I am constantly trying to hold myself just as accountable as I hold others in my life for the things they say, do, and believe. I would not tweet or say any of these things today. I do not believe any of these things today. I have grown and learned a lot in the last decade plus, and I hope that that is reflected in my current behavior and with the people and causes I support. I am not the same person at 37 that I was at 22-23 - very few people are.

I will end this with a sincere apology to anyone that I may have hurt with these messages and my behavior - both now and in the past. I regret saying these things. I regret the fact that for a period of time, I "spoke" with very little thought about the impact of my words, or how wrong these things were to say. I have tried to - and hopefully accomplished - make changes in my life throughout the years, and continue to do so every day.

It's impossible to make meaningful changes overnight, but I hope that you believe me when I say that over the course of the last decade, I have changed a great deal about myself and my behavior, and work hard to keep learning as the world around me changes, too.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. My inbox and DMs are open for questions and conversation, if you have anything to say. If this is where you choose to part ways with me, I wholeheartedly understand that, too, and wish you the best. An additional reply to an ask I received

#psa #tw: racism #tw: homophobia #apology #it's only words but I mean every one of them in this post #thank you

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secriden · 2 months ago

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*cracks knuckles* Okay lets talk about the elephant in the room: Style going to the support group for those who've suffered loss and telling what appears to be a fake story about losing his pet dog.

I'm going to point out a few things that I think provide a framework for Style's actions here. Not because I think it excuses what he did, but because I think a nuanced read is what the character deserves.

Point 1: An irresistible opportunity

The subs put the "Support Group for Loss" on the image in the notebook, but I'm not sure there's anything to suggest that Style would've known that was what this image represents until he showed up and saw the sign on top of the door.

In episode 2, Bison says, "He plans everything down from years, months, weeks to days" and then tells Kant:

So Style is literally just going to addresses/locations at given days and times, potentially not knowing what to expect. And as much as Fadel is certainly attending this meeting as a response to having that heartbreaking flashback (😭), this is also something he attends regularly and has planned to attend way in advance. So Style has no reason to think Fadel is attending this meeting because of a recent resurfacing of his pain.

What we, the audience, and what the characters know are very different things.

Now, should Style have turned his cute ass right around once he realised what this meeting was? Of course he should. But that wouldn't have been true to Style's character. We've been told by his best friend that he is "crazy" and been shown repeatedly that he lives right up to that description.

Style is impulsive. He's all base instinct and he acts on his desires without thought or contemplation. And by this point he is desperate for a deeper connection with Fadel. He's fascinated, captivated by the mystery that is Fadel and this is an excellent opportunity to finally see behind the wall Fadel so carefully maintains.

When Style sees the sign above the door, Style looks at the notebook (which, again, shows nothing but people sitting in a circle with the words RISE UP) like he's just realising what it means. He then gets this amused, almost rueful look on his face (like he's thinking "am I really going to do this?") before it shifts to determination and he walks through the door.

(My soul for the ability to once again gif something because FUCK Dunk is doing SO MUCH in this show!!)

To Style, this is just too good of an opportunity to give up.

Because let's be real, Fadel is so clearly lying and hiding something:

Fadel is shady as FUCK. He is simultaneously actually a really good cook (Style finally tries his burger so he knows, now), and also has the skills to work at a strip host club, and also can take on 3 guys in a fight, and also can break a man's arm with his thighs. Can you honestly blame Style for losing his mind just a little bit about wanting to get his hands on something, anything, to figure this man out?

Style is being absolutely consistent in his persistence to understand Fadel. This isn't about the car or about finally 'winning' the fight (thank you @airenyah for giving such a detailed framework to understand what Style's been doing until this point) anymore. This is about Style wanting to know Fadel himself.

Point 2: The potential implications of the setting

Now, what might give us a bit of insight as to why Style is this way? I have a theory (albeit one that could prove to be very wrong, but hear me out). I think this whole entire show is set in what could potentially be quite a small town/suburb.

There's a few things that make this theory plausible:

(1) Fadel and Bison are in hiding after Bison blew their previous cover. They're probably on the run from some section of the authorities and so it makes sense to settle in a quiet/out of the way place.

(2) Style seems to be really familiar with the people in the area. Like he grew up there and its the kind of small town where everyone knows everyone and everyone is in everyone else's business.

(3) Style is clearly the darling of the market aunties and uncles.

Style just lost her a sale and potentially a loyal customer, and she's still rooting for him? In episode 2, when Style asks the uncle to let him borrow his cart, it takes nothing but his word for the uncle to give Style his entire cart of produce for his ridiculous scheme.

Style is so clearly someone they all know well and have great affection for, and a very plausible explanation for this is that they all watched him grow up and the entire market (town/village) is fond of him.

And honestly?? Yeah, we see the way Style is actually quite sweet in that careless, guileless, thoughtless way. He goes the extra mile to fix his mistake with Fadel by replacing his car parts for free in episode 1. He helps out by taking orders in episode 2 without being asked and takes it seriously. In episode 3, he tries to drive more business to Fadel's store (bless him, he so clearly does NOT understand how restaurants work, but he MEANS well!!), and can we all acknowledge that it works?? He understands how to appeal to potential customers in the area because he knows the people there. It's not (entirely) his fault that Fadel wasn't remotely prepared for an actual rush crowd and Bison was off getting kinky with Kant and not doing his (fake) job. He is so clear about not judging Fadel's host job and tries his hardest to help him (to absolutely NO effect, but still) when the 3 guys gang up on Fadel.

Style is so loved and more importantly so very loveable.

Point 3: What this could mean for Style's character

So, potentially, Style is someone who grew up in a small town, who has been well loved, potentially spoiled and coddled, but also very much kept within the confines of the narrow viewpoint that a quiet, country town places on you.

It's in the way his dad scolds him as if he was still a child when he's at least in his mid to late 20s. It's in the way Style was so mad at Fadel for scolding him ("thanks for the lecture, dad"), like that hit a sore point for Style. It's in the way no one in the market takes him seriously; they're fond, but he's still a kid in their eyes. It's in the way he has an abundance of free time like he doesn't REALLY need to work at his dad's shop. It's in the way he sees Fadel beat 3 guys up with ease, starts wondering if Fadel is an assassin or a hitman, and is completely unfazed like he doesn't quite have a handle on reality.

It's in the way his best friend is a man who has no qualms about lying to him and putting his life in danger, and how Style seems to have no other friends or people (aside from his dad) in his life.

@wuxian-vs-wangji made a comment to me about Style being desperate for a meaningful connection, and I think she hit the nail on the head. Because along comes Fadel, a mysterious stranger with a suspiciously versatile set of skills who is also very hot and keeps giving Style these wonderfully complex reactions? Who sometimes wants nothing to do with Style, but at other times seems to be at war within himself about desperately wanting him? Who treats Style with anything but apathy?

This is catnip to Style; he never had any hope of resisting this.

Breaking news: Style is a complex and imperfect character...

Here's the thing, though: he was never going to try. The show has been incredibly upfront about who Style is as a person. Regardless of whether I'm correct about why he is this way (ie. that he is very much the product of the environment that didn't know how to handle a kid with Style's personality), episode 3 shouldn't have surprised anyone about Style. He's been incredibly consistent and true to himself.

He wants Fadel and he's "crazy" enough to go all in, no holds barred about it, and the Support Group was the biggest doorway to finally discovering something REAL about Fadel.

And its not just about sex or to prove his superiority anymore. Because if it was just that, then Style would have reacted very differently to their first time.

In this scene, Style is pleased and evidently enjoying himself, but he isn't exuberant. He isn't overcome with joy. If anything, he was more happy and excited when Fadel let him help out in the diner (I mentioned this in the tags in this post too) than he was when Fadel is literally fucking him. He lets Fadel set the pace; barely moves to touch Fadel except to hold him close. Almost like he doesn't want to accidentally mess this up, like he's worried he'll take too much, so he'll take what Fadel gives him and no more (please appreciate @braceletofteeth's amazing tags on this post). For a character that has been so aggressively on the offensive, this is shocking until you realise that sleeping with Fadel - while it's a step in the right direction - isn't Style's end goal anymore.

And he makes that abundantly clear in this episode:

Does Style even fully realise the weight of this desire? I doubt it. But I do believe that Style is in earnest. He doesn't fully understand his own feelings, but he also doesn't really care to either. All he knows is that he wants Fadel, wants his attention and his passion and his focus and his heart.

...but Style is also kind of, sort of, perfect.

Because he's exactly, precisely, breathtakingly exactly what Fadel needs.

Because Fadel is hurt and broken and bleeding inside. Because Fadel is barely holding it all together for Bison's sake, but has already given up hope for any true happiness for himself. Because Fadel can't trust anyone or anything in his life, when he's been used and used and used by the family who should've loved and cared and protected him.

Because it's going to take nothing short of this kind of unwavering, unshakable, uncomplicated determination to give Fadel even a chance of healing and opening his heart to love again.

#saw a post about style being one-dimensional and boring and I nearly had a breakdown because what are you TALKING about???#he's so perfectly messed up and terrible and unfiltered and WONDERFUL in all the wrong and right ways #and others have pointed out there's potentially even MORE to style's backstory because of the “coincidence” of Lilly meeting with #someone with the same name as the dog Style talks about in his story #listen the story telling in this show drives me inSANE in the best way and i'm baffled at some of the takes i'm seeing #can we at least... let his story play out maybe before dismissing or hating on Style?? its literally ONLY episode 3.#anyway yes its me your resident style apologist back to be unnecessarily emotional about style again #the heart killers #the heart killers the series #thk meta #style meta #hui talks thk #hui talks thai bl #style sattawat #fadelstyle #also FUCK ME dunk is just constantly serving every single episode and i've seen so many posts appreciating joong's acting (RIGHTLY SO!)#but not nearly enough love for the frankly INSANE performance dunk has been giving every single episode #i love him i love him I LOVE HIM SO MUCH OKAY T_T #dunk natachai #ALSO (not that this means i can speak for everyone in a similar circumstance)#but as someone who lost my father to cancer as a teenager i DO understand and relate to the FURY Fadel must have felt in ep 3 #and i DO think style was wrong to have treated the situation so lightly #but like literally WHAT in this show sets up any expectation for style to have the emotional maturity to do that?#and also this doesn't make him an inherently bad person ACTUALLY #it makes him an idiot and needing to be taught the right way to respond to people who are grieving. but guess what; he's NOT ALONE??#because let me tell you the amount of times i wanted to punch FULL GROWN ADULTS for giving me “well meaning” platitudes at my dad's funeral #...but the thing is they DID mean well. they just didn't realise how hurtful their words were #and life is filled with imperfect people who make mistakes and part of our journey is learning from them and trying our best to be kind

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skippingthroughfields · 3 months ago

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one thing that's missing from these convos about amc not submitting assad zaman for a golden globes nom that makes it 10x more malicious on amc's part is that a nomination isn't just like oh... ~simple appreciation for an actor's performance. even if there's no win, it results in a profile boost for these actors & them being able to command a higher salary when it comes to future projects. it's something that gets notice on their CV. these studios and networks love being able to market their shit with things like "starring golden globe nominee john doe" or "emmy winner jane doe." the emmys are more prestigious than the golden globes which are more prestigious than the critics choice awards (the one they submitted him for with two other actors lol). actors get nominated and have the opportunity to get attention from social media posts, article mentions, attending the red carpet, having their name announced and a little clip of their acting shown. that's not nothing! attention from possible new fans, publications, execs, peers, producers, directors, fashion houses & other industries which could lead to $$$ and sponsorships. I won't make any presumptions about the cast's finances but I do know amc is probably not paying them their worth, least of all the bangladeshi muslim who barely had any major roles in tv/film prior to the show.

there are fees and costs associated with submitting for awards consideration and FYC ads. the network basically took a look at assad's brown skin and name and said they don't think he's worth the money over the white actor who had less screentime and narrative importance (to the season ig) which is absolutely crazy lmao. it shouldn't be controversial to say that and you can't not discuss this without bringing up sam's name. this has nothing to do with whether he "deserved" to be submitted (and even if I said he doesn't deserve it over assad who's gonna beat my ass?). this white man isn't being persecuted by conversations about blatant racism. but I'd expect nothing less from this fanbase x.

#assad zaman #i don't go here much bc this show's fandom sucks ass lmao #like yeah the show/actors probably aren't getting nominated but on the off chance they do??#amc count your days #them submitting assad for less-known-and-less-expensive-to-campaign-for CCA alongside two white actors means nothing #what it really boils down to is a global flareup of islamophobia like another reblog stated #the worst thing is watching this fandom woobify sam #& twist the words of anyone discussing it to act like shots are being taken at jacob/delainey by every single person #who says assad is experiencing a different kind of racism or any racism at all.#not to say those ppl don't exist and shouldn't be called out #but you can just tell these crusaders are painting everyone with a broad brush to stymie any criticism of amc & sam's submission.#assad experiences a different kind of racism bc he isn't black & doesn't experience the antiblack racism that jacob/delainey do #that's not an opinion or playing oppression olympics it's just a fact.#I have to read the most racist antiblack shit imaginable about jacob and delainey constantly as a bw #only for these people to throw their names around for cover & act like amc is the most moral anti-racist network for submitting them.#meanwhile a random person wouldn't even know how prominent the issue of race is within the show #with the way amc promotes it and actively prevents any discussion of race in interviews and panels.#every day fanart and posts of that decrepit white man plowing armand's delicate ass will do numbers #every day they'll bring up sam gifting assad some cheap suspenders #but crickets about any discussion of racism from those people.#can't even say shit about a white man not being deserving of something the network decided can only go to one person.#white ppl & their feelings have to be centered every fucking time even when unfair treatment is happening to their marginalized coworkers.#and now the prevailing narrative is ppl being mean to their poor meow meow sam :(#which ofc it is lmao

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smartzelda · 2 months ago

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Sorry guys I gotta speak my truth on this one

I'm not kidding when I say that I think that blaming shit media literacy from fans on shipping/shippers avoids the actual root of the problem to throw people you can easily throw under the bus (simply because it's not unpopular to consider people who post about ships or ship characters in media as having lesser or derivative tastes by default)

And here's why.

I think when you blame people who are "shippers" or "consume media through shipping lenses", the true root of it all is a mindset problem.

In actually, putting on shipping lenses can be helpful when trying to analyze a piece of media. When analyzing media you're supposed to approach it through a number of mindsets and put on different lenses (both to deepen your personal understanding of the media, and to pick it apart and see what you can find there (whether intentional or not on the author's part)), and different ships can be some of those lenses

When it comes to ships between main characters (for those who are genuinely willing to see what the narrative is showing with their relationship and what it's doing), there are times when analyzing it from a shipping lens may be helpful. As someone from KH fandom, I have seen people come to deeper understandings and pick canon apart in the process of analyzing a relationship that is genuinely integral to the story (platonic or not). I've also seen people get into rarepairs of characters who barely interact or who just suffer little screen time, and I've seen them come to better understandings of those side characters and how they potentially fit into the world of the media simply because people are now focusing on these characters and how they fit into the narrative.

Frankly, I resent the idea that the only way to truly objectively analyze a piece of media is by turning off the part of your brain that gets excited over relationships and individual characters. Don't get me wrong, that is a way to approach a piece of media and a valid one at that, but the truth is that we cannot be free of bias.

For instance, I was watching House MD with my parents circa last year. At some point I started heavily tuning into what was going on with House and Wilson's relationship. My parents, on the other hand, were largely watching casually. They're not thinking of character relationships or getting heavily invested in most characters, they're watching because they like watching. One of them in particular did try to analyze things that were happening in the show as they happened. However, when it came to the scene late in the series where House threw out Dominika's letter approving her American citizenship, my parents could understand that he was doing that because he didn't want her to leave, but not much beyond that. I ended up explaining to them that House's fake marriage for Dominika was an explicit parallel to when Wilson was living with House in the early seasons. Both situations started with House being none too happy about it but ultimately letting them stay, spending a considerable amount of effort getting them to leave/getting this situation to be finally over so he didn't have to deal with it anymore, and then by the time a piece of news comes through that would mean the person in question actually leaves, House hides this news as long as he can. Because he doesn't actually want them to leave and has grown attached. And by doing this he became a self fulfilling prophecy. By reacting to the truth of Wilson and Dominika leaving him the way he does, he seals his fate and they ultimately leave anyways. Maybe I ship Hilson, but becoming open to how their relationship was handled allowed me to transition to doing character studies and recognizing patterns/parallels that I wouldn't have noticed if I didn't particularly care about the characters or their relationship.

Likewise, I've seen mutuals complain about how people who don't like or don't care about certain characters often overlook these characters (what they're actually like and their place in the narrative), while the mutuals in question (by default) are able to come to deeper understanding of what the writers/story is trying to do because they care about this funky guy

You can't eradicate bias when you're engaging in media analysis, but you can consciously put on a range of lenses and observe the media through different povs with the goal of understanding the media better or bolstering your reading of it. And those lenses/povs can include focusing on specific relationships or the perpective of certain characters

And this is why I say it's actually a mindset problem. Shippers and people who have this one blorbo they like a lot aren't inherently terrible "fandom brained individuals" who are the root of media analysis problems. The problem only arises when people's readings/analysis of a piece of media are inherently restrictive/narrow and self centered. Your problem is with people who view a piece of media through a ship they like but don't keep an open mind about it, and whose "media analysis"/views on canon cannot be split from fanon and their comfortability levels. These are the people whose "media analysis" starts and ends with justifying their fanon as canon, whose views on media revolve around sorting characters and relationships into categories they personally enjoy rather than trying to understand what's going on.

Here's another example.

Here we have a fictional ship we'll call uhhhh...Blanebin. this fictional ship I made up on the spot for characters that don't exist named Blane and Corbin

Person A is super into Blanebin. They're part of the main cast of characters and canonically childhood best friends, so person A (as much as they enjoy fanart and fic) is also enjoying analyzing how narratively important to each other they are. Recently, Corbin started dating another character in canon, but Person A is enjoying watching how Blane is reacting to this. "Is this potentially a tell that Blane is jealous or is having complicated feelings about this? What if he was, how would that contextualize his behavior this season? Here's what I think based on how Blane dealt with explicit jealousy last season in a different situation". It's not impossible that person A is still missing further understanding due to their obsession with Blanebin, but at the end of the day this obsession has allowed them to start picking through the characters both in and outside this relationship. It has allowed them to see potential subtext and theorize on what might happen next with these characters' relationship. Not to mention that with addition of Corbin dating someone else, instead of trying to erase this fact or state that Corbin canonically isn't into that person, Person A is trying to factor in how Corbin's current dating life affects his relationship with Blane (irregardless on personal views on the nature of Corbin's relationship with the person he's dating).

Person B is also super into Blanebin. They really enjoy fanart and fic of the characters, love obsessing over their moments together, and just feel like there's really something between the characters. To person B, every moment between them is just further proof that the writers are ship teasing them. But Corbin getting together with someone else this season? Oh that pissed person B off. They cannot believe that even though Corbin and Blane are CLEARLY gay for each other the writers had Corbin get with someone else this season. Perhaps, they think, it was even a decision specifically made to spite fans. How evil of the writers to tease a perfectly good ship and then have them not get together first? They must have been just doing those teases to get views from Blanebin shippers those scoundrels. To Person B, since Corbin started dating someone when he obviously has some chemistry with Blane (even though the series is far from over) means that Blanebin can never get together now and Corbin x person he's dating is ruining Blanebin by existing. In fact, they think, this is terrible writing for Corbin to be dating someone else because they don't like that relationship and don't see the point. Obviously if the writers were good then Corbin would have started dating Blane instead because this was supposed to be the Blanebin show.

Person C despises Blanebin. Don't get them wrong, they've always enjoyed the character's childhood friendship, but they actually have always thought Blane would have been better off with Victoria. They have a lot of moments too! But they're tired of seeing people ship Blanebin. Corbin just got together with someone else, so obviously that's not gonna work out. Plus Corbin and Blane totally has always given person C bro vibes. In fact, person C thinks, sure Corbin and Blane have a close friendship, but people shouldn't be shipping them. Person C likes Blanetoria and Blanetoria can't be canon if Corbin is in the way of it. So Person C likes to read Blanebin as siblings anyways. Sure they're canonically friends, but obviously their friendship turned into brotherhood. This means that nothing can be in the way of Blanetoria and Corbin can keep dating the person he's already canonically dating. Actually, now Blanebin just straight up makes Person C uncomfortable. Don't the pesky shippers understand that Blanebin are sibling coded because they're childhood best friends and that they're important to each other because they're brothers? It's obvious to anyone with eyes.

Sure, ships are involved here, but is the root of this problem shipping? Character A isn't as knowledgeable of other characters in the plot due to this lens they're using, but at the end of the day they're dedicated to analysis. Their love of the characters is pushing them beyond what they like or dislike to try to understand what might be happening through their lens. Not perfect, but they are slowly broadening their horizons. But Person B and C's problems here are their restrictiveness. What is or should be canon to them is tantamount to what they personally like or find comfortable. Is person C actually analyzing the this fake show when they decide to "read" Blanebin as basically canonically siblings (and this all of their moments are totally a bro thing) just because they don't like Blanebin and the idea of them getting together over Blanetoria makes them uncomfortable? Is person B actually analyzing this fake show when their "analysis" of Blanebin goes only as far as asserting it's being ship teased and deciding anything short of canonizing Blanebin is a targeted attack or "bad writing" because it's not what they wanted personally to happen?

This is what I'm talking about. This is the mindset. Shipping isn't the problem. The problem is when people marry fanon and canon to the point where they have a vested interest in superimposing their fanon over canon as "a reading" and trying to make "collective decisions" on what is canon (or what canon is trying to say) based on what does or doesn't make them uncomfortable. The problem is people being restrictive and centering their own likes and dislikes in the conversation, so they can only interact with canon "analysis" wise by deciding what is canon or should be canon "as obviously agreed on by everyone". You can't simply claim you like media analysis. To be able to analyze media and bolster your views on any given canon, you must be open to looking at it through multiple povs, to studying characters without trying to pretend things you don't like don't exist or do like do exist. There is a balance that must be kept between trying to keep objectivity and putting on specific focus/bias based upon the lenses you're putting on. You have to be willing to try to figure out what a media is doing or saying, not saying you're trying to figure out what it's saying while in actuality trying to define the narrative around what people believe it's saying in ways that suit you.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

#fandom wank #on the flip side it really just doesn't all happen with shipping #doesn't this go the same way when someone hates a character so they brand them with terrible terms and act like they're terrible without #actually taking a second to analyze them simply because they dislike that character?#Hell I've seen people get really invested in platonic relationships on the fanon side‚ start labeling them as siblings because the idea of #people shipping them makes them uncomfortable‚ and then when new canon doesn't fulfill their hopes they still act like those characters #being siblings to each other is canon because it makes them uncomfortable if that's not true #I've seen people watch a trailer for a piece of media before it comes out‚ build up an entire story in their head based on that trailer #that they've designated as their perfect idea of how to handle concepts presented in the trailer‚ and then when canon doesn't end up going #that way they decide that it's bad writing simply on the grounds that this wasn't the story they wanted. so they unironically act like #writers can only be good writers if the writers play into their specific wants as the audience or things they as an audience member thinks #would be great #genuinely even if people turn off the ship side of their brain or the side that gets obsessed with characters they can still be one of those #people who acts like they love media analysis but ultimately are shit at it #I didn't put this in the body of the post cause it didn't really fit but I have to say this too #I think that 'There are multiple readings one can glean from a text and no reading is the 'true' one‚ and this is okay' and 'not every #reading is a valid one or a good one' are statements that can and should coexist #There is a difference between genuinely reading into a piece of media based on what is happening in it and purposely miscontruing and #twisting canon in a direction that contradicts text so you can then quell all criticism by saying that it's just 'a reading' and #'all readings are valid'#What I'm saying is that if you see a blue car‚ the way you get 'valid readings is people who are determining what shade of blue it is or #what it being a blue car means or the author's intent making the car blue or even speculation as to why it's blue and not potentially other #color. A case of an 'invalid reading' in this case is if someone pointed at the blue car‚ said it's canonically red and the author obviously #intended it to be red and it's canonically red‚ and then when people point out that the car is very much not canonically red (that you #can see it is a very clear shade of blue) this person doubled down and started saying that the 'haters' are being rude by implying that #their personal reading of the text is invalid (in other words 'no you can't get mad at me for saying the blue car is red because it's my #reading of the text and all readings are valid no matter what!')#anyways sorry for going off there #it just pisses me off when people repeat the argument that people who like certain things as fans are inherently unable to perform good #media analysis and are the root of fandom media illiteracy.

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st4rstudent · 1 month ago

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i feel somewhat responsible for this, even if i’m not the one saying these things. I’m genuinely so sorry.

No need to apologize! It's not one singular person doing it and truth be told I don't think it's a large majority that thinks that (albeit the ones that do are quite vocal). I didn't mean to upset anyone or anything when complaining about it, I was just letting off some steam.

Having a yap session under the cut sorry I feel like rambling under your ask anon.

Admittedly, I do think there are reasonings for people thinking this way. A lot of the focus with Clash has been on the cogs, especially after the 1.3 update. Which I can't say I blame them! Managers were something new and exciting and (from what I can tell) really separated them from the other servers. I don't blame them for wanting to put focus on that because that was their thing. Alongside other things, but majorly when you hear Clash the managers are mentioned in someway shape or form. But as we all know, toons ended up taking the short stick from this. This isn't helped by the gameplay itself, being mainly a fetch-quest deal so you often only talk to npcs once or twice unless if they're repeated ones and the taskline wasn't entirely accessible on the wiki for a while (shoutout to the wiki maintainers. The taskline script is a savior). Which I'm quite excited to see if they deal with this issue with the rewrite. I imagine they will, but anyways. Social media posts would often contain more managers than toons, which I also believe they're starting to fix. And ontop of this, I believe most of the team in the early era of the sever is gone, so there's been some stuff lost in the change. So yeah, dialogue/writing has been kind of rocky. AGAIN- I am completely aware of the rewrite going on and I am not judging them harshly based off of their current state. I'm very appreciative of the fact that they took the time to listen and are focusing on trying to fix it up. And then there's also fandom mischaracterization- especially of the cogs. Forgive me for mentioning mischaracterization because normally I wouldn't really care (I've mischaracterized characters before..especially in my younger years. I think it's just a process of learning an having fun and I hate to limit anyone because of it). With that being said, there's a lot of baby-fying and coddling of the managers. Especially with those who have more 'sympathetic' stories (Misty, Chip, Winston specifically). Don't get me wrong, I like these characters and I can appreciate the story they're trying to tell, but I feel like so many people will hear their dialogue and then misplace their anger. People get mad at Bessie for trying to protect HER lighthouse or at the Elders for trying to keep YOTT safe (lets not forget Winston was there to brainwash toons). Yes, yes technically there would've been better ways to do it but consider this: The toons are scared. Their homes, stores, lives are being taken over by a big corporation that has more resources that they do. They don't have the privilege of waiting, seeing, and gathering. And then people forget that the company has such a huge role in both toons and cogs lives. If you're mad over the mistreatment of Misty or the fact that Winston is still in the dungeon, your anger should be directed at the company who doesn't care. I may be completely wrong in saying this, but I feel like the stories with almost all of the managers is a reflection of the company. The toons are only trying to protect themself and their environments and yet this seems to go forgotten when people start bashing them. And of course, I'd consider myself a toon guy so me saying all this and complaining may come off as "I HATE the cogs and everyone who posts only about them!" and for clarification that's not true. You all know how much I like that little brain thing. The cogs are interesting, their designs are fun, I don't blame people for liking them because I do too. I just wish that the thought process behind so many of these discussions wasn't so cog focused because I believe that this anger at the toons for, RIGHTFULLY, defending themselves helps push this mischaracterization of them as a whole. That they're mean, boring, unlikeable while the opposite is true. Yes there are some, what I'd consider, "filler" dialogue from the shopkeepers. This is just because of the gameplay. But there are some funny and cute moments with them if people would just listen and read.

Which also brings me into another point: people skip the dialogue. I've caught myself doing this before (on my first account. I have 4 accounts total, so I reread the dialogue on like 3 of them). But people will complain about lack of toon personalities while doing this. It's like reading through a comic book, only looking at the drawings, and then complaining because there "isn't a storyline". Luckily, there's been efforts to keep track of the dialogue on the wiki but I doubt a lot of people are going through and reading the entire script. It just feels very disingenuous to criticize the dialogue when you haven't even read it. Likewise, people don't seem to read the blogposts either. This is both from a dialogue aspect and from an update aspect (people continuously asking about hammerspace/mix-and-match under unrelated posts).

#clemask #clemramble #I think I hit some sort of word limit because it wont let me add anymore so im continuing in tags #It kind of feels like people want the toon resistance to be the perfect victim and then get mad when they act accordingly #Fear. Nervousness. Sadness. Helplessness. Anger. etc etc are all valid reactions to their situation #Not every toon needs to be heroic and whimsical. they're scared. their situation is scary if you think about it #they're at the risk of losing their environment and homes.#Obviously the cogs also have their own issues but I always see this brought up when talking about them but the same context #isnt given to the toons when thinking about their characters and communities as a whole #It's kind of weird to me because I feel like even pre-rewrite I know that I can still understand them and justify their actions #and yet people act like clashes (pre rewrite) writing is justifying the cogs when in reality its not #its just showing that cog society (reflection of workplace enviroment) has its own issues. i never saw it as a justification #even with misty. like I never once hated bessie? my opinion of her never changed even after mistys dialogue #bessie did what she had to do because she was scared and wanted to protect herself and others.#id do something similar if a cog (known for taking over towns) suddenly came up to me #PLUS bessie leaves misty alone afterwards. ppl act like she took a shotgun and shot misty dead and it makes me laugh #ANYWAYS SORRY ANON. NO NEED TO APOLOGIZE.#realistically if youre not saying it then i doubt youre contributing #I would say “i wasnt mad” or anything but to be completely transparent with you guys i was Not-Happy when writing that one post #but it's not directed at any single person but rather the idea itself. I'm sure after the rewrite people will chill out #ITS NEVER THIS SERIOUS im beefing over characters named pretty princess sparkles. im aware of how silly this all sounds ok #the clash fandom isnt the only instance of this. ive seen stuff like this in sw before so like. I know this isnt an uncommon thing either #normally id just keep this on a priv or between friends but something kinda snapped yesterday #i think its bc I just KEEP seeing posts like it with those “hot take” posts or whatever and ppl are always so mean about it #i also think some ppl just already dont like toons and look for every. little. thing. to go after them for #like the “youve been drafted line” i refuse to believe people took that line 100% seriously #or maybe this is all wrong and im just a huge toon fan. and in that case i will die on this hill #you will have to pry them out of my cold dead hands before you catch me genuinely bashing them #ok thats clems giant critques and complaints out of the way

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