#like i think is typical they continue talking their own language while understanding what the other (thats doing the same) is saying (fr/uk

[goldammerchen]

there's simply no way hetalia nation-people would always work alone, they would be likely often part of normal humans delegations, who wouldn't understand whatever the magical beings are talking between each others and thesefore needing interpreters, or finding other ways to communicate. if the nation-people idiom its impossible to be understood by humans, trying to use it to translate without knowing enough cultural background would be likely to fail.

so the universal languages is great for their 1-on-1 exchanges, or better, between reunions with only people like them, however, of course they would have learn more than one language, engaging in all the beauty and challenges of learning. they probably start having the innate knowledge of all their own dialects (...as long as are speaked), but from there they would need to know their close neighbours languages/dialects (that also is "theirs" knowing that moving to close territories or crossing imaginary lines frequently is something we humans do), what the not-so-close neighbours speak, learn a bunch different lingua francas before we ended with barely a few, languages teached in universities/institutes, languages from friends from all across the globe, and more: their life is about cultural exchanges after all.

[sataraxia]

you're losing me.

miguel o'hara x fem!reader

summary: 'you're losing me' by taylor swift.

genre: angst, so much angst. basically a songfic.

warnings: cursing, violence, hard violence at the end, the reader shows signs of bpd. it "continues" the across the spiderverse plot.

a/n: i wanted to do this for a while now, i'm a fluff fan but a taylor swift one first. english isn't my first language so pls let me know my mistakes.

w.c: 13.2k

You have been with Miguel for more than a while now, just without a confirmation in between, there was never an "I love you", much less an " I’m sorry", but you two knew it, you cared for each other, and it would always be like that, no need for words.

But it was later that you really got to know the man you loved unconditionally.

You say “I don’t understand and i say, “I know you don’t”

“Love, you’ve been with that for a whole week, don’t you think it’s time to stop?” you said with no more than sweetness and care in your voice.

He didn’t say anything, not even look at you.

“I know that it’s important, but you haven't been eating, or sleeping well.” letting out a sigh, you tried to approach him. “I'm going out on a long mission tomorrow, you know, we could get dinner, or something.”

“I don’t understand how you could think that getting dinner is more important than this, and you should be working too, get out.” it was like he had put a wall between you two, ‘cause you didn’t dare to get closer than you were.

And it’s been like that for some time now, since the events of earth 1610, he’s been a workaholic, but you could take it, you always could.

“We thought a cure would come through in time..”

You’ve been out on this mission for almost three weeks, you missed your friends, missed Miguel, ‘cause maybe, just maybe, he was being himself again.

Of course not. When you arrived at the HQ, more specifically his office, the first thing you saw of him was a man yelling at a kid that a citizen was supposed to be dead, and the same fate was meeting the kid’s father.

The thing was, you didn’t really enjoy talking about canon events with Miguel, because you don’t like the term, in fact, you hate that he invented a word that justifies all the pain you, and everyone here, endured.

You wanted to do something, help Miles, but your thoughts were blurry, knowing that every decision you take from now on can change everything with Miguel.

“..now I fear it won’t.”

“Remember lookin’ at this room, we loved it ‘cause of the light.”

The chase after Miles already started, and you just stood there, while every other Spider-Man was trying to capture a kid.

You wanted to scream, most likely to the man who gave the order, but you had to stay on his side, right? 

At least that was what your body wanted, ‘cause suddenly you were in the platform, the one where Miguel had brought you everytime you were injured, where you had your first kiss and the so many more that followed.

You didn’t even think about it, you started helping Miguel telling him where you saw Miles in the cameras, opening the path for him.

“Now I just sit in the dark and wonder if it’s time.”

This was the man you’ve fallen for? the one that was hitting a kid, telling him that he shouldn’t even exist? you knew part of his behavior was because of his feral instincts, but trying to justify this was making you sick.

You saw how Miles was running for his life, feeling betrayed by his own people, hurting like hell just wanting to come home to his parents, that’s when it hit you, you couldn’t do this.

He reached the machine that would send him “home”, you could hear your lover yelling at you from the ear piece that you two shared “Shut it off! Come on!”.

“Do I throw out everything we built or keep it?”

Your thoughts were colliding in your mind, the typical “my heart wants something but my brain another” line sounding everywhere.

But time took the choice for you, Miles was already gone and you didn’t do anything to stop it, nothing came from the other side of the communicator, but you’ve never heard a silence quite this loud.

The fear that you were experiencing right now was almost unrecognizable. almost.

“I’m getting tired even for a phoenix, always rising from the ashes”

It was the same fear that you had the day he found you.

Like every other spider person, you had been through a lot, but it came to a point where your family didn’t acknowledge you anymore, the only friend you had died because of you.

So, you’ve always known you were a failure, thinking about it now, maybe the relationship you’ve built with Miguel it’s just because he was the first person that didn’t see you as one.

It was hard at first, learning that everytime your parents insulted you, all the times that you were punished by them, all they took from you, all that was supposed to happen, hell, it had to be like that.

With time, and with Miguel by your side, you grew comfortable in your position, you could stay with him forever, just like he promised all the times you crawled to him after a bad day or a bad memory. forever, right? 

“You might just have dealt the final blow.”

You were facing each other, he was always taller than you, but right now, you feel like the smallest thing in the world, you’ve known this feeling, and you don’t want that to happen with him.

But it was too late to want and not want things.

“Why didn't you do it? It was a simple button.” his voice was raspy, probably from all the yelling before, but he’s being cautious with you, the feeling in your stomach confirms it.

“I didn’t think like it was the right thing.” you didn’t tremble, he knows that you need him, but he also knows the woman you are.

“What?” that was it.

Silence, it could have been just seconds, but it feels like eternity to you, maybe because eternity was beautiful in your eyes, and what he started to say, definitely not.

“It’s incredible how after all this time, all of the effort I put on you, you show up to be just a disappointment, i don’t care what you think.”

“Stop.” he didn’t mean it, he didn’t mean it.

“Stop, you’re losing me.”

“No, you dont get for me to stop, I've always been there for you, I saved you again and again for you to turn your back on me? really?” you could feel the anger in his voice.

“Miguel, it's not like that, stop.” a little steps to get closer, you needed him closer.

“Stop, you’re losing me.”

“It is like that, it's always like that, you always fail and let me down, you don’t care about the real things because you’re stuck to keep suffering for some stupid thing that happened to you years ago, i'm tired of you being a nuisance to me.”

“My heart won’t start anymore..”

“What?” now it was your turn, without letting the tears take over your face. “I’m a nuisance? And what about you? the only thing you’ve been doing is watching on that little screen something that you could never have again, holding on to the memory of your mistakes, jealous that a kid can know beforehand and actually do something about it!” you know you don’t mean this, you know his suffering, but this was just too much.

“What I do is my business, but you work for me, you have to do what I say.” his tone wasn’t cautious anymore, his words were as thin as a dagger, was it always like that for him?

“I don’t work for you, i’m your-” he cut you off, almost instantly.

“You’re nothing to me.” he didn’t look at you when he said that.

“..for you.”

“What are you gonna do to that kid?” your voice was kinda broken, but you glared at him with storms in your eyes.

“Whatever is necessary to avoid him destroying a whole universe.”

“And the air is thick with loss and indecision.”

“Then I'm gone.” you turned away, he didn’t say anything, he didn’t look back.

He didn’t care if you were gone, he was letting you go just this easy, when your whole body was screaming at you that you should crawl to him, beg for his care and for his love, like you always did.

“Now you’re running down the hallway, and you know what they all say..”

That night, Miguel went to his room, that was yours too, expecting to find you a crying mess, it was always like that, you two had argued before, and he knows that he can fix this, by fixing you.

Opposite of his imagination, you weren’t there, all that was left was all your stuff, the clothes that he loved seeing you wearing, the gifts that he made, the ones that you made, all of it was there, but not you.

He forgot what fear was like, until he saw the little note you had left behind for him.

“i love you.”

It was the first time that one of you “said” that, and he hated it, hated his vulnerability, hated the short tear that was crossing his jaw now, but mostly, he hated you, for making him feel all of this and being gone.

“You don’t know what you got until it’s gone.”

“My heart won’t start anymore (‘cause you’re losing me).”

It had been three months now, you were helping Miles and his band, they were your friends now and they cared for you.

Mostly Gwen, you talked to her a lot, and she’s been helping you with your feelings.

You were miserable, you hated this so much, hated him so much.

The truth was that you were dying to go with him, you were so attached that it was completely painful, and you were fighting with yourself every day.

Because not matter how much you loved Miguel, you were on your own now, and you had the right to think and act for yourself, so if that means you have to be against him, even fight him, then you were going to do it.

That was what you said to yourself, but when the moment came, when all of your friends were fighting against the corporation you helped build, when the love of your life was in front of you, claws and teeth out, you were paralyzed.

“‘Til we were too far gone to bring back to life”

He was getting closer and closer, and some part of you was hoping that this was the man that didn’t even need words for you to know he loved you, the man that you would give up on your life from, you would do anything or everything for the things to go back to how they were.

“I gave you all my best me’s, my endless empathy.”

And that thought alone bothered you, why would you do everything for a man that was about to kill you if necessary? you were done with this.

You threw the first punch, as it was unexpected, he didn’t block it at all.

“And all I did was bleed as i tried to be the bravest soldier.”

“I’m not afraid of you.” your voice didn’t come off as he expected, you weren’t fragile anymore.

And so it began, he was a fighter and he wasn’t containing, you were hurt but you didn’t stop,for now you were blocking his claws and pushing him towards a kind of factory in the city, the farther away he was from Miles, the better.

“You’re not gonna kill a child Miguel, I'm not letting you.” he didn’t even care to respond, god how you hated that he wasn’t giving any signal of regret in all of this.

“You can still come with us, with me, you know?” of all the things he could’ve said, he chose that.

“Fighting in only your army, frontlines, don’t you ignore me.”

You didn’t respond, he kept talking.

“You are my best soldier, come on.” you were under him, he could finish this right now, you were bleeding and sore, he was too.

“I’m the best thing at this party (you’re losing me).”

The only reason you couldn’t hate him was the memories of what you had, but that, the attitude that he has on top of you, like your life was only in his hand, that he was portraying himself as your forever savior, you were boiling with rage.

You moved as fast as you could, pushing him off of you with the studies you had collected of fighting beside him, now you were on top, hitting at him with blood nubling your “pretty eyes” as he called them.

With that, he understood there was not a turning the situation, this was it, this is how it’s gonna end.

He grabbed you with all his strength and started shoving your body against the columns in the old fabric, along with this, he was telling you how disappointed he was, villainizing you for leaving him alone.

You couldn’t hear due to the damage.

“And I'm fading thinking do something, babe, say something.”

Blow comes, blow goes, you weren’t thinking of what you were doing, you were so mad that he wasn’t saying something, that he prefers this before taking the risk of believing in you.

“I hate you.” you thought about every time, how he manipulated you, how he controlled every feeling and idea in your head, and you hated how much you would love to stop this and go back to that.

“Lose something babe, risk something.”

He wasn’t fighting back anymore, the floor was cold and every punch that touched his skin made him feel warm.

He was regretting everything, he didn’t care about Miles now, he didn’t care about another universe anymore, he only cared about you, the universe of his own.

“I did everything for you, I would've died only for you, I would've even killed Miles for you, and I think I would still do it if you just choose me!”

You were letting it all out, not even listening to the voice of the man under you.

“Choose something, babe, i got nothing to believe, unless you’re choosing me.”

You were tired, couldn’t throw anymore hits, and that’s when you noticed, he was barely breathing under you, mumbling some words that you haven’t heard.

Your body didn’t move, you freezed.

“Stop, you’re losing me.”

Miguel used his last strength to clean some of the tears that were traveling down your cheek, you could now hear what he was saying.

“I’m so sorry, amor.” it’s the first time you’ve seen a genuine smile.

“Stop, stop, stop.”

You know there was nothing to be done, and no one could help right now, it was just you and him like it was in the beginning.

“I love you.” you whispered to him, grabbing his hand.

“I love you too.” he closed his eyes.

“I can’t find a pulse, my heart won’t start anymore.”

[uefb]

Hey, so I just watched the third Fantastic Beasts movie and I was wondering if you noticed any autistic traits of Newt's in that one? I remember spotting so many in the first two, so I was kind of disappointed that I wasn't able to find anything new this time. (Honestly, it felt like there wasn't much character exploration at all with Newt, except maybe at the very end?)

Hi, beanwood! Thanks for the ask. It’s interesting you noticed this! Because I will admit that I noticed less of Newt’s autistic qualities in the 3rd film myself (though I did notice some!). I think there are a number of reasons for this decrease — in fact, it is something @afrenchaugurey and I have discussed quite a few times actually! I’ll go into that later. First I’ll share what I did notice (from memory), when viewing Newt through an autistic lens as an autistic & neurodivergent person watching Secrets of Dumbledore (SOD/FB3).

(I’d like to apologise in advance for some language that might not be fully autistic-affirming moving forward. While I am autistic myself, I am also a researcher in fields that have traditionally pathologised autistic traits, and my language unintentionally reflects my training on occasion. Unfortunately, I currently do not have the spoons to go through and ensure that everything sounds appropriate. I therefore appreciate your understanding and patience.)

Anyway, while I agree with you that there are less autistic traits than in previous films, below are some arguably autistic traits or co-occurring indicators (based on my own experience and knowledge of clinical & empirical research) that I noticed! (Though these are not exactly new, which is what you may have been hoping for.)

Newt does stim quite a bit in the SOD/FB3, though it is subtle, mostly relegated to his coat pockets and consistent but very slight rocking/fidgeting/re-adjusting. You can see a rather crappy TikTok video (as I wasn’t doing edits on my computer yet) I made a few years ago (on an acct that is no longer active) highlighting Newt’s exceptionally subtle stimming in the first hour of FB3 here.

Newt continues to avoid eye contact during both one-on-one interactions and when addressing groups.

Newt does not always seem to notice subtle emotional nuances or jokes in group settings.

Newt seems, reasonably, attached to his case when Bunty takes it from him, even wordlessly asking Dumbeldore about it with a hand motion at one point. This could be interpreted as his case being a fixture of routine or comfort, common in autistic folks.

Newt’s flat affect, in this film, seems to be somewhat of a a boon to interacting with high-profile officials, as he seems somewhat unbothered by the high stakes of the situations and the potential social & political risks of simply walking up to — say — Herr Vogel, for example.

Additionally — regarding special interest — his hyperfocus on his creatures while talking with Theseus’ jailer in the Erkstag seems out-of-step with what one might expect from someone about to walk into a pseudo-authoritarian prison setting.

When Newt finds Theseus in the Erkstag, he answers Theseus’ questions about the creature situation by somewhat info-dumping about a laboratory experiment he’d conducted on creature behaviour to explain his reasoning. He seems not to entirely notice that that response probably wasn’t that reassuring to Theseus at all.

Newt does not reciprocate social interactions on several occasions — he misses his brother Theseus’ social cues in the first big group scene; he does not verbally reply to several characters in the films (such as Herr Vogel’s assistant), even when such reciprocal communication (or even basic serve & return) might be expected.

Newt does seem to lose some access to speech under extreme pressure during his back-and-forth with grindelwald about the Qilin twins. (This is reflected more in Redmayne’s performance than the script, IIRC.) While this is typical for many people, it harkens to newt’s earlier characterisations.

Newt utterly misses the loaded communication from Bunty while he has his case open toward the end of the film in Bhutan (when Tina’s picture is visible). Then, Bunty says something in response to Newt saying you don’t know what you have until it’s gone (referring to his case), which was apparently in reference to her own crush on Newt (now that Newt is pretty obviously with Tina). Newt did not seem to clock this comment as anything at all. (…..and, frankly, neither did I. I had to ask my wife to explicitly explain the scene to me after my 4th or so rewatch. I remain clueless and it is lucky I am married, given my utter inability to read romantic nuance.)

So yeah, I agree with you that the last film demonstrates fewer autistic traits consistent with Newt’s behaviour in the first 2 films, apart from those marked final scenes (Tina/newt, newt & dumbledore.) One could argue that the noticeable behaviour in the scene between Tina & Newt outside the bakery is due to either (a) the removal of Newt from a high-stress, goal-focused heist situation into a more intimate personal situation combined with (b) social anxiety manifesting around people he cares deeply about (particularly given his history of miscommunication with Tina), or social anxiety around romantic situations in general. It’s also possible that (c) a heightened sensitivity to physiological cues associated with anxiety or ‘butterflies,’ due to sensory sensitivity affects his behaviour in the Newtina scene — physiological stress (in my anecdotal, personal experience) can make one flustered or struggle with speech, as attention is repeatedly and emphatically and uncomfortably drawn elsewhere in the body. (Or it could be something ENTIRELY different, like a script rewrite or massive editing that jettisoned consistent character development.) But, whatever the case — yes, I agree Newt seems most…. Well… Newt! in his interactions with Tina and Dumbledore at the end of the film.

(Though if you haven’t seen the missing scene of Theseus & Newt between Newt leaving China and Theseus & Newt going to Hogsmeade… That’s rather a treasure trove of autistic-coded Newt, imho!! You can watch it here.)

As for the reasons why this change may have happened… I believe there are a few possibilities…

Personally, I think the fact that Secrets of Dumbledore (SoD/FB3) is structured more like a “heist” film than the earlier FB films plays a big role in that — character development was secondary to plot (which was, admittedly, a bit convoluted).

From an out-of-world (e.g., non-character, non-plot, non-worldbuilding perspective), I think it’s quite possible that Warner Brothers & co. were trying to appeal to as broad an audience as possible. I say this for a few reasons… (a) reactions to Newt as a character back in 2016 and 2018 were as polarised as you would expect for an autistic-coded main character in a mainstream action/adventure series. This might have inspired a shift in characterisation in FB3. Additionally, (b) by 2022, FB3—according to Warner Bro.—needed to be a box office hit. It was affected by Covid filming issues, JKR’s continued inane & controversial comments, actor drama & controversy, and generally non-HP level earnings at the box office for Crimes of Grindelwald/FB2…. Messy! Producers might have thought a less socially awkward/autistic Newt would make it more palatable. I haven’t seen any evidence of producers’ defending newt’s characterisation since the FB2 era. But who knows. This is all guesswork.

However, from an in-universe perspective, some time has passed since CoG/FB2. Based on Lally’s comments in Jacob’s bakery at the beginning of the film, approximately 1 year has passed (1927/8ish?). According to the screenplay, 5 years have passed (1932). (I tend to align myself with the 1932 timeline, due to subtle historical indicators; my own beliefs about Tina & Newt’s different characterisations in FB3; and the lack of lasting impact Leta’s death seems to have on Theseus & Newt by the time FB3 rolls around.) Anyway. I mention the time skip because I think it’s possible that a time skip allows for Newt’s character to minorly shift in a few ways…. (a) It allows Newt to settle into his confidence as a respected magizoologist, as well as gain distance from (i) World War 1 and (ii) young adulthood insecurities — trauma, anxiety, and diminished sense of self and belonging can exacerbate traits of neurodivergence. (b) A time skip additionally — (theoretically) — allows for Newt to become more comfortable with people like Jacob, Theseus, Dumbledore etc. (and for them to become more used to him!), potentially further diminishing Newt’s anxiety or certain autistic traits. Because autistic traits like stimming, for example, often correlate with higher levels of social stress or attempts to manage uncontrollable situations in controllable ways, Newt may rely less on these self-soothing methods because there is frankly less of a need. Conversely…

Newt might also be more self-aware by FB3. He’s in his 30s by now. It’s possible that he’s masking his autistic traits during the middle of the film due to the political environment and high stakes situation in which he is functioning.

Anyway! Long story short, those are my thoughts!!!!! (Hope you actually wanted them, because you tapped into UEFB special interest, infodump mode.) I’m sure there’s more to be said, but that’s all my old brain can do for now. Thanks for the ask, beanwood, and I hope you are well!

Finally, I’m curious: What inspired you to ask me this in particular? Was it my utter flooding of the #autisticNewtScamander tag over the past few years? A particular post? My fics? Byyye.

[intheholler]

i like what you said to the other anon, 'whos to say it's even misspelled? it's our language.' because as someone who loves languages and studies them in my freetime I've been saying stuff in that vein for years. Language is man made, and by men it will continue to be made and remade-- even in ways you don't like. You just have to get over it.

Idk why so many English speakers get so up their own ass about speaking 'proper english' even when what's being said is perfectly understandable. It's these people who turn their nose up at dialects typically associated with the poor, the marginalized, and the not-white and don't see any problem with it. Like do you actually care about the fact they spelled it 'dieing' or do you just want to take cheap shots at those backwards hillbilly redneck racists or whatever you think youre doing?

i also love languages and study them in my free time! i can talk myself blue in the face about capital L "Language" as much as i can about appalachia. how cool to meet you.

my passion for language joins forces with my love of the region and its dialect often, and it's why i find myself defending it this loudly.

like, i write for a living. i KNOW proper spelling and grammar. i have a fine grasp on it because they fuckin pay me for it.

and frankly, even though i know the "proper" way to say things, oftentimes i simply Do Not. why? appalachian dialect is easier, more natural to me.

its easier to say "them things" than "those things." it's easier to say "that" sans the "th-" when it follows a word ending in a consonant. "it don't matter" as opposed to "it doesn't matter" just feels better in my mouth. "ain't" is a word, because we speak this word and use it to communicate, and therefore it is so.

appalachians and southerners alike get accused of being lazy with our language, and so what? i love that our dialect reflects the slow way of mountain living, the freedom and ease that comes with it. it's a feature, as they say, not a bug.

sociolinguistics is absolutely a thing, as you know, so while that sort of thing gives me the liberty and wherewithal to speak in my dialect even though i """know better,""" unfortunately, there's a flipside. meaning i can't help but to think the answer to your question is in the latter half. no, they don't give a shit. but it makes them feel morally and intellectually superior over them damn uneducated hillbillies to tell us when we say shit or spell shit "wrong."

all the more reason for me to wanna do it.

this got long and out of hand. sorry. languages. appalachia. excitable. etc. thanks so much for this ask, i love the topic you introduced.

[prythiansfavoritefox]

[ defeated ] Tamlin

Mentions of Eiley, an OC by @positivelyruined

Lucien rapped his knuckles against Tamlin’s door. He knew his high lord liked his space when he was upset, but many times he wanted company and was too scared to ask for it. Lucien knew this was one of those times he wanted company.

“Tamlin, unlock the door!” he called. The only response from inside was various series of grunts that sounded like their own language. Lucien sighed. Typical Tamlin, unwilling to ask for help. He was used to relying on himself, Lucien knew, and sometimes even preferred to bear the burden himself so as to keep others safe and happy. It was almost annoying how innately heroic he was.

Good thing Lucien was not a hero. He placed his hand to the door, and after some strain, orange-red embers sparked into his hand. He sensed the door heating as the fire began to spread, and within a few moments, the door was burning and crumbling. Lucien kicked the door and strutted inside. Tamlin turned to him and scowled.

“Leave me alone,” Tamlin grumbled, weakly swiping his hand at him. Lucien snorted. “Should have put better wards if you really wanted no one getting in,” Lucien drawled. Tamlin sighed. His posture was beyond defeated. Lucien knew what this was about. Another sentry was dead.

“Sergio is gone too,” Tamlin muttered, as though in a trance. “This is all my fault. I had my chance with Eiley, and I blew it- I killed her.”

Lucien knew he shouldn’t get irritated. It was good that Tamlin felt every loss as if it was his own, that he was loathe to sacrifice his own soldiers, that he truly did love Eiley. But it was so profoundly…human. A ruler needed to understand that sacrifices had to be made. Lucien was the only person who could convince Tamlin to send soldiers back out after Eiley died. It wasn’t as if Lucien wished to send them out either. He despised it. But they had no choice; they had to sacrifice a few for the many.

If Tamlin hadn’t let his feelings for Eiley get in the way…but then Lucien wasn’t one to talk, what with his failure with Jesminda.

“You didn’t,” Lucien said quietly. “She couldn’t accept you fully, completely as you are. She saw only God, but you are only Fae. Even if she had lived to break the curse, she would’ve only had a mortal lifespan. You need to get the human to love you, not the other way around, Tam.” He shook his head. “I knew Jesminda would likely not have the lifespan of the High Fae. I loved her anyway, wished her as my wife. Look what a mistake I made. I killed her because my feelings got in the way.” Tears stung Lucien’s eyes, and he had to take a couple of deep breaths before continuing.

“It was always going to be a long shot to get someone who despises our kind, who killed our kind in cold blood, to love you. We never even expected to find such a human. Now we know it is possible.”

Tamlin covered his face with his hands. “I miss her,” he mumbled, and he sounded like a little kid. Lucien had the distinct memory of talking in the same way to his mother after Beron had tortured him.

“I know,” Lucien whispered. “I miss her too. She was like the sister I never had.” He chuckled. “I still have that ridiculous floral bonnet she gave me.”

It had come with a note: For your stupidly long and luscious hair.

Lucien hadn’t been able to stop laughing for several hours after that. He hadn’t expected the sweet, soft-spoken human to have so much attitude. He’d even worn it for sport the whole day after. “Not fair,” Eiley had complained. “The lads and ladies are still making eyes at you.”

Lucien had doubled over with mirth at that. “It’s a lot more than my hair that draws people in, sweetheart,” Lucien had managed in between heavy laughter. “But it’s cute that you thought otherwise.”

Tamlin smiled at the memory, reaching for Lucien’s hair at that. While his fingers ran through Lucien’s waves, Tamlin murmured, “Eiley might have had a point.”

Lucien rolled his eyes. “I think you’re just jealous, Tam,” he quipped. Tamlin, to his delight, began to laugh. Lucien took that as his cue to leave and go finish his work. Unfortunately, work didn’t take a break, even for malicious conquerers like Amarantha.

[jackiestarsister]

I believe I've found another neurodivergent fictional character: Helen Burns in Jane Eyre. The way she describes herself and compares herself to people like Jane and their teachers is an excellent illustratration of typical symptoms of untreated ADHD.

Here is Helen and Jane's conversation in Chapter 6, with significant symptoms underlined by me:

“You say you have faults, Helen: what are they? To me you seem very good.” “Then learn from me, not to judge by appearances: I am, as Miss Scatcherd said, slatternly; I seldom put, and never keep, things in order; I am careless; I forget rules; I read when I should learn my lessons; I have no method; and sometimes I say, like you, I cannot bear to be subjected to systematic arrangements. This is all very provoking to Miss Scatcherd, who is naturally neat, punctual, and particular.” “And cross and cruel,” I added; but Helen Burns would not admit my addition: she kept silence. “Is Miss Temple as severe to you as Miss Scatcherd?” At the utterance of Miss Temple’s name, a soft smile flitted over her grave face. “Miss Temple is full of goodness; it pains her to be severe to any one, even the worst in the school: she sees my errors, and tells me of them gently; and, if I do anything worthy of praise, she gives me my meed liberally. One strong proof of my wretchedly defective nature is, that even her expostulations, so mild, so rational, have not influence to cure me of my faults; and even her praise, though I value it most highly, cannot stimulate me to continued care and foresight.” “That is curious,” said I, “it is so easy to be careful.” “For you I have no doubt it is. I observed you in your class this morning, and saw you were closely attentive: your thoughts never seemed to wander while Miss Miller explained the lesson and questioned you. Now, mine continually rove away; when I should be listening to Miss Scatcherd, and collecting all she says with assiduity, often I lose the very sound of her voice; I fall into a sort of dream. Sometimes I think I am in Northumberland, and that the noises I hear round me are the bubbling of a little brook which runs through Deepden, near our house;—then, when it comes to my turn to reply, I have to be awakened; and having heard nothing of what was read for listening to the visionary brook, I have no answer ready.” “Yet how well you replied this afternoon.” “It was mere chance; the subject on which we had been reading had interested me. This afternoon, instead of dreaming of Deepden, I was wondering how a man who wished to do right could act so unjustly and unwisely as Charles the First sometimes did; and I thought what a pity it was that, with his integrity and conscientiousness, he could see no farther than the prerogatives of the crown. If he had but been able to look to a distance, and see how what they call the spirit of the age was tending! Still, I like Charles—I respect him—I pity him, poor murdered king! Yes, his enemies were the worst: they shed blood they had no right to shed. How dared they kill him!” Helen was talking to herself now: she had forgotten I could not very well understand her—that I was ignorant, or nearly so, of the subject she discussed. I recalled her to my level. “And when Miss Temple teaches you, do your thoughts wander then?” “No, certainly, not often; because Miss Temple has generally something to say which is newer than my own reflections; her language is singularly agreeable to me, and the information she communicates is often just what I wished to gain.” “Well, then, with Miss Temple you are good?” “Yes, in a passive way: I make no effort; I follow as inclination guides me. There is no merit in such goodness.”

That last clue points to the self-deprecation and lack of confidence or self-worth that can result from having ADHD (or other similar conditions).

[devouredead]

Thinking about childhood today

Thinking about when I started school. And kids would talk to me. And I just... would not speak. Just did not have words. They said I was cold or rude. Eventually called me a ghost. Treated me as a non-person. Would not talk to adults, either. Not teachers, not doctors.

Thinking about how that continued on forever. They ask me a question, I could show them an answer, if they asked what book or what animal or anything, I'd show them but that's 'rude.'

Thinking about how I could not speak to my parents, only pushed out words to them when they threatened me. And how that continued on forever.

I struggle to speak without very specific scripts. I can write. Not with more social knowledge but at least words come, I have so many words in my brain. I use AAC pretty well. But I never had words for my parents or my grandparents, for my cousins or aunts or uncles. They grew old and away or passed away and I never had 'conversations' with them that weren't 'hi how are you okay bye' (a script) or echoes that they half-way understood. My father used to frequently tell me he didn't know who I was because I didn't speak to him. Of course, he didn't want scripts and was annoyed by echoes. He wouldn't look at the art I made or read my writing or watch movies or shows or share music with me. He refused every other way I had to communicate. My dad would not read the (literal) writing on the wall so... in the end he was right. He never did know who I was. My siblings and I echo (echolalia) back and forth to each other and that is our language, but as speech therapists will account for, echo isn't considered 'independently speaking' which I guess is their way of saying 'not speaking the right way,' which is to say, 'so that the outside understands.' Which is a shame because I love so many things I have many echoes for many occasions! They are just not original phrases or thoughts, just adopted reactions because as it's been made painfully clear to me, I will never have my own. As if I am the impression of all that touches me but nothing else. If people see me echo or script, they assume I talk with no difficulty. But I can't, and when they inevitably experience that, they get angry and think I'm rude/cold/hateful. And they take it out on me and are congratulated for it because I'm so hateful for not speaking. I get tired. Tired of living for abuse. Even other people with speech difficulties, because guess what? They don't magically understand, either, and I don't have a way to explain because of the assumptions of how being semiverbal works, at least for me. The assumption is always, somehow, that you speak typically except for episodes of speech loss-which is bizarre to me, because I (and the majority of other developmentally delayed and intellectually disabled autistics I've known in the flesh) who have been semiverbal definitely do not communicate like that. But then, I guess that makes sense that people don't know that, because we're not really among the autistic people who typically 'get out much.' Why is speaking so hard? Why can't I understand it? Why can't I do it right? How come I know where to put italics but can't make the people bark sound? I've had decades to be at least as good as a middle schooler so why can't I do it? Even if I try to talk to friends when they repeat back to me I realize that I haven't said enough to be understood or to make sense.

Why am I so bad at this? It's rhetorical. Of course I know it's my autism. It just affects me so bad that I can't make new friends or ask necessary questions or to protect myself. I just stare at people I'd love to talk to and reach out to but we can be two feet apart and oceans away at the same time.

Cuz we'll never talk, and that's just the truth.

My experience of semi-verbal/semi-speaking is all the time, not episodic speech loss.

While I have empathy for those with episodic speech loss and nonspeaking people, our experiences are not the same. Please stop assuming all semi-speaking people suffer episodic speech loss but otherwise have normal speech. You're erasing people like me, thanks.

-

I'm very much for everyone staying in their respective lanes! All our experiences should be respected and should have their space. For that reason...

Verbal/typically speaking people

People who experience speech loss episodes/selective mutism/anxiety related speech loss/speech difficulty is not a permanent state of being

Nonverbal/nonspeaking people

DNI with this post please! It's not for you-

[wheretheharekissesthefox]

On a highway to the Hells

(Warning: canon-typical violence, graphic description of gore & violence)

Notes: This is a continuation of another fics, but can be read on its own.

To avoid confusion: In one of my other fanfics Halsin and Tav had named the owlbear cup Naïlo, which means 'night breeze' in the Elven language.

Also, my Tav (a bard) would absolutely listen to 'Highway to Hell' while slaughtering her way through Avernus with her friends :D

Karlach had known Tav would keep her promise.

After five years, the bard finally burst into Avernus, wreaking havoc. Tav and her little bunch of weirdos were as majestically chaotic as ever, casting spells left and right, whirling around their weapons, and shouting commandos, insults, and battle cries. Karlach immediately dropped everything she was doing, which wasn't much anyway, and joined her friends with her trusty battle hammer.

"Long time no see, soldier!" she shouted towards Tav who gave her a feral grin.

Naturally, Wyll, the Blade of Avernus, dashed across the battlefield to save the day – still acting like the incorrigible folk hero he thought himself to be.

Their bloodshed quickly gained the attention of Mizora, Wyll's Handler, who appeared in a vortex of flames and ashes before them.

"Are you trying once again to free my pet, bard?" she cackled. "Oh, what a fool you are!"

Tav stepped closer to the cambion, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Maybe," she said. "But maybe, it's worth it."

Mizora kept laughing amused, paying her less attention. The human bard quickly unsheathed a long, thin dagger with a twisted blade and stabbed the demon in the abdomen. Mizora screamed, eyes wide in surprise and panic. Grinning, Tav pulled out the dagger and drove it into the cambion's heart instead. Mizora kept screaming, collapsing onto the ground, while the bard followed her movement. With an absolutely terrifying expression on her face, Tav freed her weapon from Mizora's bleeding wound, gripped one of her horns, and started to decapitate her. The rest of the merry bunch watched in shock, frightened by the bard's sudden outburst of viciousness. With an angry shout, Tav ripped Mizora's head all the way off and threw it in front of Wyll's feet.

"There you go, Wyll. The contract's broken, you're free."

The addressed stared at her in a mixture of horror and anger.

"Why did you do that? Without Mizora's help, I lose all my powers! How should I save people this way?"

Tav barked a sharp laugh.

"Oh, please! 'The Blade of Avernus', ha! What a joke! Nobody will remember your self-sacrificing act. It doesn’t matter how many lives you save and how many times you keep the world from ending, in a few years, people won't remember any of it. People are ungrateful and ever-dissatisfied. So, why continue? Karlach will leave with us and then, you'll be all alone down here, fighting a fight that nobody appreciates or remembers. As soon as people don't see your face anymore, they forget about you. And that's the ugly truth about humanity. You're free now, Wyll. Free to do whatever you want without any strings attached and a devil breathing down your neck. Just because your powers are gone, doesn't mean you're not able to make a difference in the world. Isn't it better to live with friends at your side, instead of playing the hero who will be forgotten in a few years? The same goes for me; first, people will forget my name, then my deeds, and finally my songs. I've already watched you throw your life away once. If I cannot let you do the logical thinking yourself, then I'll must make the right decision for you."

"How dare you! This is my life we're talking about!" Wyll yelled furiously. "You had no right to break the contract for me!"

"Running from one 'heroic' act to another to prove something to your father isn't a life. It's a waste of time. So, start living at last!"

Wyll gritted his teeth and glared at Tav. The audacity of that woman! Karlach put a hand on his shoulder.

"I understand you're angry, but she's right. I won't stay in Avernus if I don't have to and I wish you'd come with me. We fought side by side for years, and more, and I don't want to part with you."

The addressed looked at her and sighed, defeated.

"What else can I do, Karlach? I'm the Blade of Frontiers, the Blade of Avernus. It's my faith to fight evil and ensure people's safety. If I don't do that, what am I then?"

"You can be anything," the tiefling replied with a smile. She leaned in to kiss him. "You can be anything you want."

Wyll caved.

"Alright," he nodded. "I'll find a new purpose – with you by my side."

The beaming smile he received was almost blinding.

"I'm usually not one to disturb lovebirds, but we should leave this damned place," Shadowheart chimed in.

"Of course, soldier, but what about my engine?"

Karlach knocked against her breastbone and the cleric grinned.

"Well... Astarion and Gale are men of vast reading and have spent the last five years doing exactly that. They found out how to release Wyll from his contract and what to do to stabilise your engine."

Shadowheart reached into her pockets and pulled out a piece of cloth. She unwrapped it and revealed a white-glowing pebble.

"This is a moonshard. A piece of pure moon magic of Selûne. We contacted Dame Aylin, the Nightsong, to ask her for an audience with the Moon Goddess herself. Since we saved her lover, Isobel, from being taken to her father, Ketheric Thorm, she agreed and this is how we got the moonshard for you. – You have to insert it yourself though. Here."

Shadowheart handed Karlach the glowing pebble and the latter, with trembling fingers, placed the moonshard inside her engine. She could immediately feel the chance of temperature.

"We must leave, quickly," Gale announced. "Soon, the Infernal engine will be too cold to be handle here."

The group huddled around the wizard who teleported them back to his tower house in Waterdeep. When they appeared in the living room, they startled Scratch and Naïlo from their nap. The dog yawned reproachfully and the owlbear hooted grumpily. Tara jumped off the piano and scuttled towards them.

"I see your plan worked. How splendid."

"The speaking cat!" Karlach shouted and scooped said creature up into her muscular arms.

Tara endured the procedure good-naturedly, but grumbled: "I'm not a cat but a tressym."

"A magical, winged cat who's the bestest in all the Realms," the tiefling said and buried her face in Tara's fluffy fur.

The tressym sighed deeply, but let it happen. Afterwards, Karlach placed her on the floor and ran over to Scratch and Naïlo to smooch them too. The rest of the group chuckled as they watched the scene unfold.

Humming a cheerful melody, Tav swung her lute off her shoulder and stowed away her shortsword. She was completely covered in blood, but paid no mind to it. Astarion gazed at her, rapturously, and sighed dreamily with an unmistakable tent in his tight, black trousers.

"Gods, you're beautiful when covered in blood, darling."

Tav grinned at him, feral as always. Her eyes locked on the front of his trousers.

"Later," she promised him with a wink.

"I understand that danger can be uhm… 'stimulating' in more than one way, but by the love of all that's dear, pull yourself together," scolded Gale.

The human bard and the vampire spawn snickered gleefully. Karlach finally got off the floor, faced her friends, and smiled: "Thank you for keeping your promise. I never doubted that you'd come for me and help me with my problem." She knocked against her mechanical heart again. "I can feel Selûne's magic do its thing. I haven't felt this comfortable in years. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart."

She strode across the room and hugged every single one of them.

"Even our dragon rider came to my aid. I'm flattered," laughed the tiefling while latching onto Lae'zel like a monkey that tried to climb a tree.

"Chk!" the githyanki grumbled, but the smile on her face betrayed her true feelings.

"Aah, I missed this," Karlach smiled. "Hugs. So many hugs. And I need them all. Still... I have a question."

She looked up, but didn't let go of Lae'zel who endured the hugging as gracefully as possible.

"How where you able to kill Mizora? That was no ordinary dagger, was it?"

"No, it wasn't," Tav replied. "It's a weapon called 'the Devilslayer' and I swiped it back when we were at Raphael's place to get the Orphic Hammer. I thought it might be of use one day, and voilà."

"I've never seen you go so ballistic before."

Tav made a face and muttered: "I... I don't want to talk about it."

"Alright," Karlach appeased and finally let go of the githyanki who sighed a breath of relief.

Meanwhile, Wyll looked torn.

"What should I do, now, without my powers? I can't slay devils anymore."

"No, but you can find a new purpose. We can find a new one, together," Karlach told him and took his hand. "I just want you to be yourself, and I want to spend my life with you. How does that sound?"

Wyll smiled a bit.

"Sounds... nice."

While the barbarian and the warlock discussed their future, the rest of the group scattered to prepare baths. They really needed to get rid of all the blood and ash.

Tav stayed uncharacteristically quiet and Astarion pondered over her reaction. He was surprised about her sudden outburst of bitterness regarding people's ungratefulness, and he realised that it must had to do with something personal. The vampire spawn was curious to dig deeper, but that had to wait.

The little bunch of weirdos bathed, slept, and ate Gale's delicious home-cooked meals. It was wonderful.

Karlach and Wyll started a new life together, looking for a new purpose. Said purpose turned out to be to raise a family together.

[golmac]

Inform Basics Continued (#6)

Last time, we talked about things (that's the actual term): creating them, describing them, and, at the end, failing to take them. Today, we should talk about that failure in detail. As a memory jogger, here was the specific code:

Instead of taking the railgun: say "The railgun is too bulky and heavy to carry around. You could probably lift it long enough to mount it on a tripod, or drag it a few feet. You presently have no way to get it out of this room.".

The above text is called a "rule." Inform 7 is a "rules-based" programming language. Rules describe the world and create text output based on outcomes. For clarity's sake (and for the sake of this post), it is sometimes beneficial to name rules:

Instead of taking the railgun (this is the take railgun rule):...

It isn't always worth the trouble naming rules, but when it is, it is. What can we say about the take railgun rule? First of all, it occurs in what is called action processing. Action processing is the way Inform 7 determines what happens in a given turn and provides player feedback as needed. There is a lot to understand about action processing, but for a beginner, this is a quick summary.

Parser games are played in turns. Typically--there are always exceptions--a turn occurs when a player enters a command. As the player enters commands, turns accrue. However, nothing happens in between, when the player is not issuing commands. During these turns, Inform evaluates every relevant rule to update the state of the game world. Part of this process is deciding the order in which things happen. As beginners, we need to understand the order in which actions are processed. Organizationally, here are the different rule types:

Before: the first response to player action. Before rules occur, well, before anything else. They could be used to print a snippet of text before committing an action, or else they might make sure some required condition is met. Since before actions happen first, they can also be used to short-circuit later rules. Let's say, despite our very definitive take railgun rule, there is a specific case in which taking the railgun would be OK. A before rule would be the way to bypass the "instead" rule.

Instead rules come next and are generally used to stop actions from being treated as valid. Most instead rules govern actions that are never meant to work. Actions are, by default, stopped by Instead commands. We used "instead" for the take railgun rule because the player should never be able to take it under normal circumstances.

Check rules are used to "check" an action. Perhaps the player is trying to mount the railgun on something other than the tripod. We can handle that with a check rule (and will do that next time).

Carry out rules have gotten past instead and check. The game state may be changed.

Report rules are for reporting. Perhaps there is some final text, or a conditional text, that should occur when an action is completed successfully.

Let's say we want to mount the railgun on the tripod. Looking at the index, I see that there is no verb "mount." "Attach" is a synonym for "tie." Sounds like we need to change an existing action (we want attach for our own purposes) while creating a new one. Here goes!

mounting it to is an action applying to two things. understand "mount [something] on [something]" as mounting it to.

Just like that, we have a new verb in our little game! Unfortunately, there aren't any responses for it. The first line creates the action. The second noun shows how players enter the command grammatically. Inform 7 assumes that the [something] must be visible and in the same room. Now, what about attach?

understand the command "attach" as something new. understand "attach [something] to [something]" as mounting it to.

Just as with nouns, we should try to think of synonyms and add them if we can:

understand "connect [something]" to [something]" as mounting it to.

And so forth. Next time, I'll walk the "mount" command through each phase of action processing. I'll also explain why the action "mounting it to" is named in such an oddly specific way. See you then!

fake edit: yes, I recognize that there are jokes to be made about mounting, but it's too late to change what this tutorial is about.

[lol-jackles]

Hello,

Do lead actors in TV dramas typically read the entire script for each episode, or just the scenes or lines that directly involve their characters? Are there advantages/disadvantages to each approach? Are they provided with a synopsis of the episode to aid in continuity and effective emoting or is that the responsibility of the director to enhance the scene? I guess I'm thinking of context and how necessary it would be to have a prior understanding of what is going on and why.

There's a general consensus that lead actors read the entire episode script but there's no way to know if it's typical. I assume it's typical because lead actors play protagonists who are both the story and drives the plot forward, so by knowing the script very well will help prepare their character work.

Some actors dissect the entire script so they can build a complete or complex world in their own minds of their character and can focus on the emotional layers under the words. Know your material so well that you can completely forget it and only then can you genuinely originate these words organically for the first time.  Sometimes it’s called the Ula Hagen technique, fancily described as “transference”: actors putting their own experience inside the circumstances of a scene.  

Some actors want to know as little as possible so that in the moment the camera rolls, their reactions and interactions are as fresh and organic as possible.  I’m biased but I feel a lot of ‘on the cusp’ actors who are not character actors use this technique to get notice and break out of the supporting rut to “go lead”.  

There are no benefits or drawbacks for each technique because everyone has a different method to their craft.  Just like everybody has their own way of learning, some people learn visually (spatial) and others learn though verbal (linguistic) while others learn physically (kinesthetic) in order to experience the concepts taught.  There are no benefits or drawbacks to each of these learning style if that is how you best learn. My audition advice you never asked for and you can apply it to your job interviews: walk into the audition room like you’re going to solve their problem. 

TV directors are almost never "actors' directors". Both Jared and Jensen have mentioned not receiving guidance from directors, especially from Robert Singer in part because he was never an actor. An “actors’ director” prioritizes actor’s performance over film techniques; they were former actors or they studied acting techniques and knows how actors work so they’re able to speak to actors in their own language in order to get a better performance out of them. For example, an actors’ director would never tell an actor, “Can you be a bit more angry in this scene?” because he would know trained actors don’t generally work by consciously emoting. George Lucas was well known for telling his actors to be “faster, and with more intensity.” Lucas was as far from an actors’ director as one could get.

TV directors are under a time crunch and prefer to work with crew on blocking shots than talk to actors. For many tv directors, the idea of giving notes or guidance to actors cause them to have panic attacks. TV actors, especially lead actors, are expected to know their characters without needing input from directors. There’s a saying that every role is two-dimensional, it's up the actor to make their character three-dimensional by doing the character work i.e. writing their character biography that is not outlined in the script.  It’s one of the techniques actors are taught to fully embody their characters and know them backward and forward to help lay the groundwork for developing a strong, believable character.  

[justashamwithwastedpotential]

OCCE - Sol Overview

Masterpost

So I talked about her briefly when I posted those portraits, but Sol was the first OC I ever made (not that I knew what an OC was at the time)

She's from Pokemon bc I spent my entire childhood tearing through the pokemon adventure mangas and eventually started daydreaming about it. None of this was ever written down anywhere btw so have a fun recollection of my memories.

Sol is what's known in pokemon as an Aura Wielder. It seems pretty self explanatory, but Aura Wielders are able to sense and manipulate the energy of all living things. This allows for several neat abilities like the power to form barriers and projectiles, resistance to certain frequencies, the ability to transfer energy to others, sense one's surroundings, and telepathy with other beings sensitive to aura abilities.

If you're unfamiliar with pokemon, the main character Ash Ketchum also canonically has this ability and it's typically how Sol communicates with him (especially initially bc Ash didn't know sign language)

Sol is also a child of the Viridian Forest, which is a concept from the manga where every 10 years the Great Spirit of the Forest blesses a child born in the forest with the ability to read the minds and memories of pokemon, heal them, and use a small degree of telekinesis (because why not. I was 8. Rules don't exist)

Story

Sol woke up near Pallet Town injured with a bout of amnesia where Ash found her while he was out training for the Indigo League.

After getting her help, Sol stayed with Delia (Ash's mom) and began helping out around Professor Oak's lab while she recovered. After a while, Professor Oak eventually gifted Sol with a mysterious egg that hatched into a Ralts.(He hoped that Ralts natural ability to feel its trainers' emotions would help cheer Sol up after she became frustrated with her lack of progress regarding her lost memories.)

After Ash returned from venturing across the Johto region and Team Rocket attacked the lab stealing all the pokemon (as they do episodically), Ralts evolved into a Kirlia and was able to use its psychic powers to free the pokemon.

After Ash declared he would be traveling to the Hoenn region, Professor Oak suggested Sol go with him to see if anything on their adventures could help respark her memory. 

Sol became pretty good at battling and eventually gained a team consisting of Gardevoir, Luxray, Sableye, Dragonair, Charizard, and Starmie.

She continued traveling with Ash up until the end of the Kalos League when Sol decided she finally had enough confidence to travel on her own and wanted to try to take on the gym challenges in Kanto and Johto.

Professor Oak went with Sol to Johto initially on his way to the Goldenrod radio tower where he regularly hosted his own show when they met a boy named Gold. Gold claimed to have had a newborn pokemon stolen from his grandparents' day care just down the road, and that the thief took off towards Violet City.

Plot shenanigans ensue and through the power of rivalry and friendship the Sol, Gold, and the thief, named Silver become friends (Silver a bit more begrudgingly than the first two) I have no more details on this part. That's all I remember. I think it just follows the plot of HeartGold/SoulSilver from that point forward.

If there was some sort of resolution to the amnesia thing I don't remember it (oh irony). It was maybe a failed teleportation attempt? And parents didn't exist? Idk. I didn't understand how kids came into fruition then so it's entirely possible I just pictured Sol spawning into the world from a tree.

If you want some sort of closure then take comfort in the fact that Sol made so many new memories that they felt that the ones they lost weren't nearly as important anymore.

Also that Sol, Gold, and Silver start dating when they're older. Courtesy of 12 year old me having a crush?(squish is probably more accurate) on Silver, but also shipping him with Gold and accidentally stumbling across the concept of polyamory through trying to figure out which ship to go with.

Example of my internal monolog:

Me (projecting my feelings onto my ocs as you do): I really like Gold x Silver, but also I want to date Silver

Also me: Okay, but you also like Gold.

Me: Yeah, but not as much as Silver

Also me: But why don't they all just date each other? Problem solved!

Me: I don't think that's a thing

Also me: Why not?

Me: Idk. I just don't think that's a thing

Also me: But you're making it up. What does it matter? None of it's real. No one can stop you.

Me: Good point.

Now

Part 2 for the Stardew Bit

[keyerrasthoughts]

These opinions are solely my own, and do not reflect the opinions of Peace Corps or the United States government.

Hi everyone,

It’s been about two months since being back in Tonga so I thought now would be a good time to update everyone on how things are going. Just to get caught up I returned to Tonga in late March after a very intensive and stressful medical check. I’ll save you the details, but there were times I didn’t think I‘d be able to return to finish my service. Fortunately, I was wrong and was able to return in late March with 3 other volunteers from my previous group. We had 10 days of training on the main island of Tongatapu in a village called Hoi. We stayed with host families during that time. And then we were sent to our sites. I’m now off of the main island, on a nearby smaller island. For security reasons I’m not sure how much we can share about our specific site locations so I will stay intentionally vague. But the majority of this will be about my experience so far at site. And to quote a movie that I quite enjoyed Avatar: The Way of Water “her heartbeat is mighty.”

This is not the same site I had when I first came here to Tonga, though I have every intention of visiting my previous site while I am here. And they are so different, my previous site from my current site. I am working as an English Teacher at a Government Primary School. It’s been great! Me and the other volunteer here, David, joke about how I hit the jackpot with my site placement. It’s a perfect fit in so many ways. I have mainly been working in the classroom with classes 3-6. Which is the same age group as our (American Education System) grades 3 - 6. The kids are the highlight of my day everyday. They are so sweet, fun, and eager to learn English which makes my job that much more easy and fun. I’m so lucky that my job is play games with my kiddos while continuing to fuel their desire to learn the English language.

I would like to highlight the relationship between the Peace Corps organization and individual communities here is fantastic and Peace Corps volunteers are treated with the upmost respect. While I’m so lucky and thankful this is the case, it means that I get a ton of attention. Which I love, but it poses a bit of a challenge because I actually feel the most comfortable taking up the least amount of space and attention. It’s been fun noticing my more introverted and quiet kiddos and community members because I relate so strongly to them. Within the larger community, I have been working with the older students enrolled in high schools with their English assignments. I’ve enjoyed working with them and seeing what they are studying. However, I always worry that I am not being helpful enough. See my Tongan is not great, and I’m super shy about using it. However, each time I’ve worked with students they seem to leave with the correct answers and a better understanding of the assignment or the information. It’s an area where I hope to grow in. I would say that is true for many areas of my service. I would love to grow in my ability and my confidence in: tutoring English, classroom management, and speaking Tongan. Those are just some of the areas off the top of my head.

I briefly mentioned my current struggles with speaking Tongan. I am learning the language from my host family, school kids, and a language learning book provided by Peace Corps. Also, I am taking language lessons twice a week from my principal after school. My goal is to learn as much Tongan as I can. I would love to be able to hold conversations in Tongan and understand what is being said in church. We’ll see what’s a manageable goal for how long I’ll be here. Right now, though, like I said my Tongan is not great.

Lastly, I want to talk about church as it is a huge part of my life right now. My mom and I joke that I go to church more here than I did in the States, which is absolutely the case. We go to church, on a typical week, Monday, Wednesday, Friday at 6pm-ish, and Sunday. And on Sunday, there are 3 services. One at 6am, 10am, and 4pm. Though, I usually only attend the 10am and 4pm services. Actually, my first weekend here, at site, I attended an “Apitanga” which is essentially a church camp over 4 days and 3 nights. It was Easter themed, so there were multiple bible lessons, along with what we would call praise dance (action) practice. Also, those who chose to could sleep in the church hall. Which is like the church recreation building. It was so much fun and also so exhausting. But fundamentally the best integration tool I could have asked for. I met so many of the Wesleyan Church youth members. Some of which are students at the school where I work. Some, I would consider friends.

All in all, I’m doing fine. Life is good here in Tonga. The weather has started to cool off which I love, but everyone around me is saying it’s too cold. I have kids wearing coats to school in the morning. I do miss my family in the States. It made me a little sad to celebrate Mother’s and Father’s day here without my parents. But the news headlines that I randomly read don’t make me want to go back to the States. And it’s proven really difficult to explain why the US is such a mess when I’m asked by Tongans. I’m thankful to be here! I’m thankful for the family I’m gaining here. I’m thankful for Peace Corps that is allowing me to have a once in a lifetime experience twice now. I’m looking forward to the growth that I will obtain while being here. Thank you for reading this! I’m looking forward to writing more blog posts in the future.

Much love,

Keyerra (‘Ela)

PS: below is some music and things I’ve been listening to :)

Music:

If by Chance - Ruth B.

Body Ain’t Me - Pink Sweats

State of Grace - Taylor Swift

Liahona-Lanu Mata Hinehina by Peni Tonga ft. Nisha Recorsz

Podcast:

The Pivot Podcast ft Dawn Staley

[tiredhawks]

PLEASE talk more about hawks struggling with reading and writing

Glad you asked. If you're here from my bio, then a fic I wrote https://archiveofourown.org/works/42568599 is about Dabi finding out.

But if you want my reasoning- children should be able to read by 6 or 7. But for that to happen, it's extremely important for the building blocks to be put in place years earlier. That means playing with letters, parents reading them stories, looking at picture books, watching children's TV shows, learning the alphabet, associating sounds to letters. Note that most kids are in preschool 3-5 years old.

Hawks was taken in by the Commission around age 7 and before then we know his parents were extremely neglectful. The only thing I can give him is that he occasionally watches TV himself because of his misconception of pro heroes being fake characters. However, watching TV in general is not useful for written language. It's specifically kids programs like sesame street where you're meant to learn things that would help. And it's for that reason Hawks doesn't struggle with spoken language. His parents talked, they talked at him, and he could hear the TV, and occasionally escaped from the house. And this is less logic based and more headcanon but birds have the most similar vocal chords to humans and even aside from parrots, there are birds that will mimic us. I like to think that their capacity for copying language has helped benefit him learning spoken language.

So, wouldn't the Commission have taught him to read and write? Of course, it's essential to hero work. The problem is that there is a time period in life where your brain is working overdrive and the idea is "the sooner the better". There's a million factors at play when it comes to the human brain so there's always going to be differences and exceptions. You'll hear most commonly that 9 years old is the cutoff for fluency, some will cite 18, and others will say 30 is the real decline for learning another language at all, while differences at even 1 year old have been studied- but all of these studies are referencing children who have normal childhoods and the right foundations. Hawks did not have that.

Which makes me more inclined to look towards the concept of "feral children". (Which isn't Hawks, but the concept it relevant) Children who were completely socially isolated and no matter what kind of program they went into later in life, never were able to achieve the same level as other people and without continuous learning upkeep, they would actually revert almost entirely. It's a very interesting topic you can Google.

Hawks is very smart, we know his brain is levels above what's considered normal, and it's very safe to assume the commission worked on this relentlessly. That's why I would say he can read and write, but struggles with it. I'd assume he needs to focus far more than a typical person would and has to sound things out to compare it to a vocal word he knows, or has to read sentences twice. And because of that, stressful situations can completely mess him up. Like, say, an angry murderous villain impatiently staring him down.

Now I'm well aware Hawks read the MLA book and got a message into it but consider this, making that message was probably easier than actually reading it normally. The biggest problem would be the amount of time he spent piecing the letters together in his head because he couldn't write it down himself with the cameras. And because Hawks is so smart, once he gets the basic understanding down, he doesn't need to keep referencing the book. He can figure it out on his own and roll with it.

So yeah thanks for reading my thesis. I am not a psychologist or sociologist.

[wolferine]

The Thief

Natasha Romanoff x Reader​​

Part 2 of “Jeff the Land Shark”

Summary: Set after “Jeff.” Jeff the land shark moves into the Avengers Tower with the reader and Natasha.

Warnings: None

Word count: 1246

Semi-requested by 🐊 anon: i can't wait to see more of jeff's adventures, could you do one where the reader and nat brings jeff back and introduces him to the rest of the team? thatll be amazing.

AN: (I say semi-requested because I actually wrote this before 🐊 anon requested it, lol). The shenanigans of Jeff continues! I love this boy so much.

After your mission in Hawaii, you and Natasha return to the Avengers Tower with your new pet: Jeff the land shark, whom you literally picked up while out for a morning jog on the beaches of Oahu. Jeff resembled a baby shark with four legs and acted just like a dog. He also had an uncanny understanding of the English language to the point that it was like talking to another human, although the only noises he could make were the typical animalistic grunts and growls.

Natasha hadn’t been so keen on his adoption, but you were pretty sure that was because you had forgotten to warn her that he was in the bathtub when she went to take a shower when you first brought him home. But even she couldn’t resist Jeff’s charm and let you keep him. Before your arrival back to the Tower, you texted the other Avengers pictures of Jeff, and they were all eager to finally meet him.

Jeff basked in the attention from your teammates. Thor declared him the official mascot of the Avengers and Bruce made him a collar to wear. Steve volunteered to take him for daily walks—although you were convinced he was only doing so because Jeff was the ultimate chick magnet. Clint spoiled your little shark like he was one of his kids, feeding him table scraps behind your back and letting him sit on the couch during movie nights. 

Tony installed doggy doors so Jeff had access to virtually every room in the Tower—causing a slight panic when Nick Fury was hosting a meeting with the World Security Council and the little land shark barged in unannounced. You had been the one to get chewed out for that, while Jeff got off scot-free.

Jeff acclimated to life at the Avengers Tower very well. He learned the layout faster than you had and seemed very at ease in his new home. You showed him how to use the elevator to get down to the gym and even talked Tony into giving Jeff his own password so he could access the pool whenever he pleased.

He was a wonderful addition to your family, and you would die for him just as you would for Natasha. However, the only boundary she won’t let him cross is sleeping in your bed. As a compromise, you buy him a little one and keep it in the corner of your bedroom, so you can all retire to the same room at night.

One day, you’re in the kitchen making sandwiches when Steve comes in, a worried expression on his face as he searches high and low for something. 

“Hey, Y/N,” he greets, standing by the couches in the living room and lifting up the cushions.

“What are you looking for?” you ask.

He takes a moment to answer. “Have you seen my shield?”

“What, you think your shield slipped in between the cushions or something?” You laugh. 

“I’m pretty sure I left it out here last night after we watched the movie, but it wasn’t here this morning.” Steve turns to check underneath the coffee table. 

“Really, Steve? How do you even misplace something that big?”

“I don’t know.” He straightens and shrugs his massive shoulders.

“Maybe Bucky took it to play Frisbee,” you say. 

“Can you just let me know if you find it?”

“Sure.” 

After lunch, you join Bruce, Clint, and Tony in the gym for a training session. But the session is delayed indefinitely when Clint finds his quiver completely empty of arrows, Tony doesn’t know where his glasses went, and Bruce’s workout shorts mysteriously disappear from his locker. 

“What is going on with everyone today?” you ask, as Clint runs back upstairs to grab another quiver.

“What do you mean?” Tony says.

“Steve lost his shield, Clint doesn’t have his arrows, you don’t have your glasses, Bruce lost his shorts—”

“I’m not sure what any of those items have in common.”

“But where did everything go?” you wonder.

“Sam probably took them to pawn off on eBay,” Tony says, and you laugh.

After that failure of a training session, you go back to your room to relax until it’s time for your dinner date with Natasha. As you’re buttoning up your shirt, you can tell her mood is off as she rifles through the top drawer of the dresser frantically. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“I…I can’t find my Widow Bites,” Natasha says, throwing socks and underwear across the room.

“You keep those in the bedroom?” you ask in shock.

“Of course. What if we get attacked here?”

“We live here!” Besides, if anyone was crazy enough to attack the Avengers on their own home turf, they would have a lot more to worry about then being zapped by Natasha’s Widow Bites.

“And? You always need to be ready.”

“You know, I was talking to Tony earlier,” you say, “And everyone I’ve seen today seems to be missing some part of their equipment.”

“Have you misplaced anything?” Natasha asks. 

“No, of course not—”

She puts her hands on her hips and turns to face you. “Where’s Jeff?” 

“I…” You suddenly realize you haven’t seen your little shark all day. “Oh, no.”

You postpone your dinner plans to search the entire Tower for your pet. Natasha reminds you that the collar Bruce made for Jeff has a tracker, so you check your phone and find Jeff’s signal coming from a supply closet. You’re not sure what you’re going to find, but nothing could prepare you when you open the door. 

Jeff has made a nest of Bruce’s shorts and sits inside Steve’s shield. He has Natasha’s Widow Bites on his front legs and Tony’s glasses perched on the end of his snout. Clint’s arrows are strewn across the floor. But most unexpectedly is Thor’s hammer, Mjölnir, propped up next to your pet shark.

Your jaw drops.

“Did…Did you bring that in here, Jeff?” you ask, dropping to your knees and pointing to the hammer. Jeff blinks and opens his mouth in a goofy smile. “Oh, my God. I knew it! I knew you were worthy!” You open your arms and he jumps into them excitedly, knocking Tony’s glasses off his head.

“Now we can rule Asgard together and I—”

Natasha loudly clears her throat. 

“Um, I mean…” You release Jeff and look over at Natasha, who has no trace of amusement on her face. “That was very disrespectful of you to take Mr. Thor’s hammer without his permission, Jeff,” you say as sternly as you can. “Now you have to take it back to him and apologize. Along with everything else you took from everyone.”

Jeff frowns and bows his head.

“I’ll take my Widow Bites back, please.” Natasha holds out her hand. Jeff slips them off his legs with his teeth and gently places them in her hand. “Good boy,” she says. “Y/N will go with you to return the rest of the stuff. I’ll meet you in the garage, babe.” Natasha does not want to be present to see teammates’ reactions when they learn their equipment had been stolen by a shark.

After Natasha walks away, you gather everyone’s equipment except Thor’s. You click your tongue and point to Mjölnir. “You better pick that up, Jeff. Because you know I can’t.”

Jeff smiles and takes the handle in his mouth, lifting the hammer off the ground and trotting out of the closet, his tail wagging proudly. 

“Show off…”

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

Tags: @yeetus-thyself @phoenixofash @yeeterthekeeper @diaryoflife @norwaynatasharomanoff @lovelyy-moonlight @nightingalxxc-blog @supersourlemon13 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @d14n4ol @whitelotus00 @happylittle-dillpickle-12 @ssa-shaylam @mjaudrey @jazromanoff @ryunniez @007giu @wandaslittlewhore @ymzki-haruki @ki33es @fayhar @m-zne237 @kyalinsworld @bentleywolf29 @furys-eyepatch @kermy48 @awkward-and-indecisive @whofan88 @alexxislex @marrymemcgrath @marvels-bitch-boy @bonkie-barnes @makegoodchoices @thewidowsghost @darkangelxoxo @t00manyfand0ms @k47-r47ny @alexxislex @anastasiabeaverhousen87

Click here for the next part!

AN: Jeff is worthy and no one can tell me otherwise. 😌 Story inspired by this comic.

Thanks for reading, and until next time!

[zuko-always-lies]

ATLA AU Idea which is Basically “Azula Raises Katara for Several Years”

I’ve had this idea kicking around my head for months, and, since I have no intention of writing it, I figure I might as well post it. To be clear, the premise of this fanfic is “Azula, Katara, and Sokka get traumatized in ways they weren’t in canon, but the events that traumatize them potentially help lead to a better outcome in the long-term,” so be prepared for rough sailing.

This idea is very much inspired by all the “Katara gets kidnapped young and raised within the Fire Nation royal family” fanfics, which I think can be excellent if done with care. However, in a situation where Katara and Azula develop a relationship when they are young, the natural tendency is to make Katara the “motherly” or parental one, and I wanted to turn that on its head. I also wanted to explore some of the possible implications of Azula taking on adult sized responsibilities as a child and of the perverse ways that power differentials can influence things. I also wanted to explore some of the ways that Azula’s commitment to duty and responsibility can be a positive thing. Another ~2000 or so words under the cut.

The premise is that, shortly after Zuko gets banished, Katara gets captured by the Southern Raiders as the last Southern Water Tribe waterbender and brought back to Caldera and presented as a trophy to Ozai. Ozai’s first reaction is to have her executed, but fortunately Azula is also present in the throne room. For reasons which Azula doesn’t entirely understand herself but which definitely have something to do with her guilt over what happened to Zuko, Azula decides to intervene, despite the risks involved. However, not being Zuko, she manages to do this without provoking Ozai, through convincing him that Katara is more valuable alive as a trophy, a symbol, and a plaything than she is dead. Ozai doesn’t really care that much, so he pawns Katara off to Azula and basically forgets about her, accidentally using language that implies to Azula that Katara and taking care of Katara is now Azula’s responsibility. Azula is at an age where she’s started to take her responsibilities and duties with deadly seriousness.

Katara doesn’t know what to make of this all.  She’s been severely traumatized by being kidnapped and torn from her family and culture and by having her life threatened by Ozai. She’s aware that Azula saved her life, but the language Azula used to in order to do so sounds warped and screwed up to Katara, who is unaware that Azula had to say what she said in order to manipulate Ozai.  Katara noticed that Azula seemed a little nervous when she talked to Ozai, but Katara doesn’t initially know how risky and dangerous what Azula did was.

Again, Azula takes her responsibilities with deadly seriousness. So, when it becomes her responsibility to take care of Katara, Azula is determined to do the best possible job, even though she’s 11 and Katara is also 11. If there were any responsible adults present, they would intervene and talk to Azula about how awful an idea this is, but there aren’t any left.  In any case, Katara’s waterbending abilities make it so she has to be kept under some kind of supervision, Azula is perceptive enough to worry that Katara might be mistreated if she got fostered out, and in any case Azula is convinced she can do a better job than any foster family.

Azula is a badly abused 11 year old who grew up indoctrinated in an absolutely toxic ideology. She’s never really seen good parenting in her life. The idea of her trying to parent should be terrifying. Yet she’s aware that Ursa didn’t do the best job with her, and since Katara isn’t a “monster” Azula sees no reason to replicate Ursa’s behavior. Azula believes the way that Ozai treats her is absolutely justified, even though she has some knowledge of its negative effects on her, but since Katara isn’t a princess who has immense duties to her nation and family, Azula sees no reason to treat her that way. In fact, Azula is aware of ignorance about parenting, and tries to read as much about parenting as she can. She also reads as much about the water tribes as she can in order to try to understand Katara better.

In terms of being a “parent,” Azula is overall a little standoffish, absent, and demanding.  She doesn’t need to directly look after Katara’s physical care(she has servants for that), but she has to look after Katara’s emotional needs, her education, and her overall care. As a temporary measure, she arranges that Katara sleep on a cot in Azula’s room because she’s not sure where to put her, and this arrangement becomes permanent. This means Azula and Katara usually eat together, since Azula has taken most of her meals in her room, but Azula is very busy with her duties, training, and education, so they don’t spend much time together in a typical day. Azula has Katara officially declared a servant(but one who only reports to Azula) in order to regularize her status and allow Katara to draw a salary(most of which Azula holds in escrow for when Katara comes of age), but Azula only rarely asks Katara to do work; Katara had far more chores back in the Southern Water Tribe. On the other hand, Azula demands that Katara work hard in her education and on practicing her waterbending. Katara is too old to be sent to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, but Azula obtains tutors for her, in addition to getting her whatever waterbending scrolls she can and trying to obtain the best possible bending coaches for Katara’s waterbending, sometimes even stepping in herself to try to coach Katara.

Azula is aware that Katara wants to return home, but she doesn’t think that Ozai would ever allow that, and, in any case, Azula is an imperialist who thinks Katara is better off being “civilized” in the Fire Nation than she would be back in her ignorant and “savage” home.  A large portion of Katara’s education is intended to “civilize” her. Azula doesn’t have firm ideas of where adult Katara will fit into Fire Nation society but plays with the idea of marrying her into the nobility or of making her governor of the conquered Water Tribes. So overall, Azula does a shockingly good job as “parent” given she’s an abused 11 year child acting within the toxic norms of the Fire Nation, but that still means she does a bad job, and her relationship with Katara remains pretty toxic.

Ozai and the rest of the court have some awareness of what’s going on, but they honestly don’t care as long Azula continues to be an exemplary princess, fulfills her duties, and continues to exceed expectations. Some members of the court even find Azula’s personal commitment to “civilizing” a savage to be inspiring. However, the burden of taking care of Katara means that Azula is under even more pressure than she is in canon, with the good news being that Azula has something more of a support network than in canon. Katara provides some measure of support, and in this AU Azula never has the energy to really push Ukano’s political career forward, and so Mai never has to leave, so Ty Lee also stays put.

Katara, again, is severely traumatized by her experiences, and to a degree feels helpless. She knows that she can’t escape and go back home. She’s resentful of Azula and particularly of the efforts to cut Katara off from her culture, but at the same time Katara ends internalizing some Fire Nation culture. Yet after a while Katara gets a sense of how toxic the environment is at the Royal Court, and she soon(after overhearing a conversation between Mai and Ty Lee which was supposed to be confidential) learns what happened to Zuko and realizes how much Azula risked in order to protect Katara, and Katara can’t help but feel intense gratitude to Azula for it. Azula also gradually becomes more and more respectful of Water Tribe culture, and Katara deeply appreciates the emphasis Azula places on Katara mastering waterbending.  Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee are also the only people in the Fire Nation who are ever consistently kind to Katara, and Katara ends up deeply bonding with each one of them, although the resulting relationships are not the healthiest. Katara eventually starts to develop a sense of how each one of them has been deeply victimized by Fire Nation culture. Azula goes to great lengths to hide her own struggles and pain from Katara, but Katara spends a lot of time with her and sometimes notices. Several years in, Katara notices some positive changes in Azula and begins to play with the idea that she can positively influence Azula so that Azula will be become a kinder and anti-imperialist Firelord.

Azula thinks Katara’s waterbending is the coolest thing ever(well, aside from firebending at least), a sentiment shared to a lesser degree by Mai and Ty Lee. Azula also thinks that learning to fight is vital, so she brings Katara along for her spars with Mai and Ty Lee. Katara makes rapid progress, particularly due to her access to many waterbending scrolls. As a result of this, and of Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee not separating, all four girls end up being significantly better combatants than they were in canon.

Mai and Ty Lee have complex reactions to Katara, but they eventually come to like and even love her. There is an element of resentment present because Katara takes up so much of the ever busy Azula’s time, but Azula forces her friends to spend time with Katara, and they end up bonding with her.  Katara’s empathy and compassion works in her favor here, especially since she rapidly develops into one of the few people who sees and appreciates them for who they are. Mai and Ty Lee also find Katara’s waterbending to be an interesting and intriguing method of combat, soon come to respect Katara’s budding combat skills, and, as people deeply unhappy with their own places in society, they find Katara’s stories of life at the south pole to be interesting. Mai has issues with Katara being a little too “motherly,” but on the other hand appreciates that Katara pays attention to Mai’s actual desires and needs.  Ty Lee sometimes finds Katara to be a little too similar to her for comfort, but also at the same time appreciates Katara’s caring side and the way she’s not reluctant to give her positive attention. Frequently Azula is too busy to join her friends, so Katara, Ty Lee, and Mai end up hanging out together. Freaks and outsiders stick together.

Azula, through her research into the Water Tribes, personal experience with Katara, and interest in Katara’s waterbending, begins to subtly yet strongly move in anti-imperialist directions and doubt Fire Nation ideology, but her transformation has scarcely begun by the time Book 1 begins. She does benefit from better relationships with her friends, though, and Katara gives her some emotional support. Meanwhile, to a lesser degree Mai and Ty Lee have had their own doubts develop about imperial ideology.

Azula tends to see her relationship with Katara mainly in terms of responsibility and duty, but she ultimately comes to fiercely love Katara.

Zuko and Iroh do their things, just like in canon.  They receive vague reports about Katara’s presence in court, but they don’t understand the significance of them.

Sokka gets badly traumatized by losing his sister and believes her to be killed by the Fire Nation. Hakoda, Bato, and the water tribe warriors also still leave to fight the Fire Nation. Sokka is absolutely dedicated to seeking vengeance on the Fire Nation, and when he accidently defrosts Aang, he sees an opportunity.

Book 1 largely plays out the same, with minor changes. I think an interesting one is that Suki ends up joining a badly understrength Team Avatar and temporally leaving her warriors behind in order to aid Avatar Kyoshi’s reincarnation with the fulfillment of his destiny.

Book 2 opens with Azula being sent to capture Zuko and Iroh. Mai and Ty Lee tag along, in part with the hope of making sure Zuko is captured without being harmed, and Azula decides to bring Katara too rather than leave her alone in Caldera.  However, the operation goes south, and Azula, Mai, Ty Lee, and Katara soon find themselves hunting the Avatar. Katara’s loyalties are about to be tested like never before…Meanwhile, Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee all have seeds of anti-imperialism growing within them, but what will it take for these seeds to blossom and give fruit? Meanwhile, Azula grapples with not only her canon trauma but also the trauma she experienced through her parentification.

[bubblyhoney]

buncha kisses

warnings: mature language, Good music mention, slight suggestive content, lotta name calling!, basically just fluff

tags: sapnap x fem!reader (a continuation of [renamed from “a collection of moments at the beginning of your relationship”] win for me, basically, with college!au)

words: 1447

A/N: a very sweet anon requested a continuation of college!au with sappy and had some great ideas for me! i love when you guys interact and talk with me pls continue to do so! been receiving a lot of really encouraging attention from some of my favorite people (ahem, for example @strawberrymilkgeorge [among others] <3) so i just wanted to say thanks for that :)

-

It’s a sticky day in May.

It’s that kind of hot that irritates under the skin and works its way through the hair on your arms. Makes you want to either rip your skin off or sink into a pool full of ice.

May is a month that Florida doesn’t take very well; it’s either raining like it’s the Great Flood, or hot as a mosquito’s ball sack.

And to make matters worse, it’s the due date of a huge calculus project. Like— weighted heavier than the final kind of huge.

You’d gotten up three hours before your final at 9 just to cram. Your desk was littered with folders, chapter notes, and highlighters dull with use. A half-eaten bagel was off to the side, staling by the second.

That was before your AC broke. Yup. Broke. Ka-put. Just full on died—it was almost audible. Your roommate had stumbled into your room, face creased with sleep, and cursed for thirty seconds straight.

Completely understandable, actually.

But you didn’t have time to fret about the damn temperature. You just took your shirt off, kicked the box fan near your bed into the highest gear, and breathed hot anger down into your notes.

The only relief you would find would be lunch with Sapnap after your final. His apartment had air conditioning, and he was surprisingly deft with a knife and cutting board. Dude didn’t know how to figure the mechanics for emailing his film class project to you that one time last semester but could whip up a Greek salad and broiled chicken like no other. Your own little Gordon Ramsey.

He was yours now, officially. As of last month he was yours. A month full of drive-in movies, failed study dates, and an absurd amount of McFlurry’s.

And that’s what is waiting for you in Sapnap’s cup holder when you swing your way into his car with an exasperated look on your face. You just melt, eyes flicking up to his gratefully and silently taking it.

“How was the final?” He lays a hand on the gear shifter and nudges the AC up one more tick. The door closes behind you and you shuffle your legs apart, leg hair tingling in this heat.

“It was fucking brutal. I think I developed an ulcer just looking at the reference page,” you huff and he just shakes his head, laugh hot on his lips. “Absolutely not worth the studying—think I got a good grade, though.”

“Well, that’s cool. I’m proud of you.” The engine chugs to life when he shifts into drive and starts for the side street.

“Thanks.” Your cheeks blush ever so lightly but you pass it off to the heat. A moment passes. “So.” The straw makes a choking noise as it nudges at the bottom of an empty cup. Jesus, you finished that fast. “What’s on the menu for today?” Brandy’s Sunny Day lilts softly into the blasting air as you settle into a comfortable conversation, schoolwork at the back of your mind.

“Thinking of making banana chocolate chip muffins and pigging on those. Thoughts?” Flicking on his left turn signal with his left hand, the right slides onto your knee.

It’s never too hot for that.

“Sounds perfect,” you reply, voice small in a sudden bout of shyness. He double-takes with a smile, squeezing once at your leg.

Pigging is a perfect term for what you two do the second those muffins are out of the oven; it is too easy to shove three of those in a matter of seconds. Bellies full and in a sugar coma, you two lay under the whirring of his living room’s fan and stare up at the ceiling.

“This feels so good,” he mumbles, eyes half-lidded. Reaching a hand out, he pats his way to your hand and takes it, immediately squeezing it. “Wish you were kissing me right now.”

“Oh, yeah?” You taunt and hike a leg up onto his hips, swinging onto his lap and leaning to get your lips near his.

And that’s that.

The night is perfect.

Sapnap ushered you into his car at midnight and within four minutes you were on a US freeway with your head out the window. Like a dog.

A lone bird flies past in the dark air and you watch it swing into a patch of trees. You just close your eyes and breathe.

The stress literally melts. Melts into a puddle and drips out of you, falling onto the black pavement whipping past at a moment’s notice. School is a bitch already, much less an American college education. Grades and tests and professors and GPA’s and all that.

You swear Logan Lerman’s character knew what he was talking about when he said “we were infinite” in The Perks of Being A Wallflower. That’s what this feels like: infinity. Going 70 in a car driven by your hunk of a boyfriend, feeling the wind in your hair and the taste of midnight in between your teeth.

The inside of the car feels sweet when you duck your head back in, smile wide and hair crazy and a content look in your eyes. Sapnap gives you a glance before looking back at the road nonchalantly and lifting to curl and twitch two fingers at you. You instinctively move forward, eyebrows drawn together in curiosity. Three fingers grip your jaw tight, and then his mouth is on yours as the chorus of The King swells through the speakers. You only get two seconds to hum in happiness and slide a hand up his chest before he’s pulling away and has those beautiful eyes back on the road.

“You’re mean to me,” you sigh, and settle back into your seat with a ‘hmph’. He just looks smug. Bastard.

The nights Sapnap plays video games with his friends are—hm. Definitely something. You like to let him have those nights with no distractions most of the time; and you’re categorized as a distraction by the amount of times he “lags” when giving you a kiss or getting you on his lap.

Tonight, he got off work early and on the drive home called and asked if you’d come over and sit with him while he Robloxes with his friends. (“It’s like you can’t go one day without your hands on me,” you’d teased, but he couldn’t say a thing in response. You were right, needless to say.) “You can bring your paints!” he’d even added, knowing you like to watercolor as a hobby. You weren’t necessarily Etsy-worthy but it was fun and a stress-reliever.

And so here you were. Legs crossed, sketch pad in your lap, watching your adult boyfriend yell so loud that his voice cracks and breaks with every change of tone. You really had to remember to apologize to his neighbors…

“Baby—,” Sapnap starts, swinging around in his chair to hit you with a look so pouty his lip was in danger of falling off. “My dear girlfriend. My lovely woman.” His question doesn’t even need to be asked— he wants you to go get him a drink.

“You’re a misogynist. I’m calling NOW on you.” But you’re already heaving yourself off of his mattress and heading into the hallway, faux-annoyed look on your face. It melts into a smile upon seeing that little canvas mounted on the wall next to the door to his bathroom. It was a haphazard portrait of his parent’s dog Bowser that you’d drawn the few days his step-mom forced him to bring you home over spring break.

When you return to his room a few minutes later with a Bang and a couple of snacks for yourself, Sapnap has his headphones off and is swinging his feet in his chair like a child waiting for their parents to pick them up from school. You approach him, apprehensive smile on your face, and hand his drink over.

“Thank you,” he drawls, mid-yawn, and sets it down on the desk. Snaking an arm around your waist, he drags you between his legs and stuffs his face into your shirt. He inhales deeply but pulls away after a pause, hands tight on your abdomen. You press a thumb into his cheek and rub fondly at his facial hair, watching the way his eyes close calmly and relax.

“You’re so cute it causes me physical pain,” is all you get out before leaning and pressing a kiss square on his pink lips. They move against yours like they were meant to, one hand sliding up the material of your shirt and onto your warm skin.

“You smell like Subway,” he murmurs, and then the moment’s over.

Typical.

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A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. :D let me know what you think in the comments!