#like maybe there was a bit of a self fulfilling prophecy going on

[delicatel0v3]

sorrow has not left me. you promised to stay, and you left - but sorrow has not. she has made no promises and yet she opens her arms to me every time i need her. she never leaves me. but she told me you would.

[i-could-be-so-much-more]

It frustrates me to no end that everyone I talk to someone new my brain catastrophises to the point where even though I know logically it’s fine, and normal, and fun, I end up making it a bigger deal in my head that I know it is…I think myself into spirals that the logical part of my brain knows are ridiculous and dramatic and improbable, which stress me out more than is entirely necessary…it’s so tiring to exist and participate in the social world sometimes

[jensthwa]

love's an uncharted path ★ masterlist.

★ prev called: show & tell universe ★

An exploration of the eight distinct stories of friendship, love, and self-discovery that intertwine as each character faces the trials of entering adulthood and falling in and out of love.

warnings: smut, drinking and drugs, adult language and descriptions of the female body, angst, tears and attempted comedy throughout all stories.

note: these stories are being posted in chronological order, although there's some context within them that range from their childhood, teen years and college years. in these stories, the guys are in their last years of college/entering their first job and tasting a bit of adulthood as they navigate through the motions and find love in the way. 

MINGI'S STORY: SHOW AND TELL (bf2l).

summary: you have known mingi since you both were fourteen. you’ve been by his side through thick and thin and you would do anything for him, really, considering he’s your other half. when he has an unfortunate bed experience and asks for your help and you say yes, he starts considering that, maybe, you’re just the best friend a guy like him can have.

main story: part one (8k) & part two (11k).

extras: tba.

SAN'S STORY: WE CAN'T BE FRIENDS (f2s2l).

summary: san is your first love. he broke your heart and played with your feelings without even kissing you back when you two were in highschool. now, many years later, you do your best to avoid crossing paths with him because there's just no way you could ever hate him, but there's also no way you two can be friends again. but his best friend is also one of your best friends, so there's only so much you can do to avoid san when he arranges a dinner you're forced to go to.

main story: one shot (20k).

extras: tba.

SEONGHWA'S STORY: I WAS MADE FOR LOVIN' YOU (s2l, love at first sight).

summary: in an attempt to grasp at his youth, seonghwa buys a motorcycle despite not knowing the first thing about them. when it inevitably breaks down, he has no other option that to ride it to a mechanic shop and, after following a sweet hum, he’s faced with the life-changing (and predictable) fact that, maybe, what he needed after all was not a motorcycle. maybe, just maybe, what he needed was you.

main story: one shot (20k).

extras: tba.

YUNHO'S STORY: MOUNTEBANK CHEM (e2f2l, arranged pr relationship). CURRENTLY WRITING!

summary: the first time you met yunho, you knew he was going to be part of the biggest tragedy of your life: the loss of your freedom, of your free will. you didn't know why back then but what you did figure out is that you and jeong yunho were going to, eventually and very publicly, date each other at some point. is that reason enough to hate his guts? well, of course! now, when the time comes to fulfill the prophecy, how the hell are you going to pull it off? and, most importantly, what do you need to do to not fall in love with him in the process?

main story: part one (9.7k), part two (tba) & part three (tba).

extras: tba.

WHAT'S NEXT?

YEOSANG'S STORY: WIP.

HONJOONG'S STORY: WIP.

JONGHO'S STORY: WIP.

WOOYOUNG: WIP.

[annwrites]

billy hargrove being in love with you would include:

at first, he'd be unbelievably irritated over it.

and he most certainly would not initially admit that what he feels is love.

no, it's just a stupid fucking crush.

you just happen to get his dick hard—that's it.

but why, then, can't he get you out of his fucking head—off his mind?

like, why does he want to hold your hand, & cuddle you, & say sweet shit to you?

admitting it is not something he would ever do up-front.

instead, he'd, quite honestly, prob be a bit mean to you over it. somehow feeling like it's your damn fault.

but, when he sees how his words hurt you, he fills with guilt & does what he can do undo it/dial it back.

so, he offers to start giving you rides to & from school.

maybe even makes invitations to hang out—just not at his house. he doesn't want his dad ruining whatever the fuck he has, or, at the very least, wants to have with you.

so, you guys go to the starcourt mall, or the movies, or hawkins video to rent something to take back to your place to watch, or to the hawkins arcade, etc.

he just needs an excuse to spend extra time with you that isn't strictly in a classroom.

and he buys you things: pays for your movie ticket & snacks, pays for the movie you rent for the night, buys you gifts from the mall, etc.

and by insisting it's not a big deal—kind of like a self-fulfilling prophecy—he makes it one by stressing how much it really doesn't matter. it's just a few bucks.

in time, he offers to teach you how to drive his car.

just likes that he'll get credit for being the one to teach you how to drive in-general.

the more time you spend together, the more intimate he gets.

he's been flirtatious & handsy the whole time, but being "sweet on you" is different.

it includes soft, nervous touches on his part with shaking, uncertain hands, waiting for you to mock him for it.

when you don't, he starts paying you nice compliments, like how he likes what you're wearing, or that your hair is really cute today.

starts holding your hand in public & around school, too.

speaking of intimate, he's usually rough when it comes to sex, to keep up that masculine façade, until he shyly asks you if you want to try "y'know, makin' love, or whatever the fuck".

and everything is slow and sweet and gentle & he lies in your arms afterward with his head resting between your breasts and he just feels so safe & loved & wanted & cared for.

is 100% the jealous type, so don't even think about hanging out with other guys. he needs that security in knowing you won't abandon him, too.

he, in time, tells you—begrudgingly—about his childhood & his mom. he tries to brush it off, but really wants you to give a shit. and when you do—hold him & tell him how sorry you are—he knows that's he's fallen entirely.

it scares the shit out of him, though. because he's not like other guys: hearts & chocolates (he's capable of being a sweetheart, but because he hates himself so much, he can't see it). he's terrified of becoming his dad. what if he's not the best thing for you? what if he hurts you? the list is endless.

but when he thinks of being alone again? of losing you? he can't let that happen.

so, he says it. those three words. and he feels like he might vomit when he does.

and then you say it back and he cries.

once the two of you graduate, he works his ass off to get you a nice home or apartment.

he wants to leave hawkins as whole & take the two of you out west.

and you get there.

and he returns to surfing & teaches you as well.

he loves sharing it with you.

and once the two of you are comfortable & settled, he pops the question.

he's a trembling, breathless mess while doing it, but he gets through it.

and once you've had some time to enjoy married life, it inevitably happens (he gets you knocked up)!

he promptly freaks out.

then spends all his free time working on a nursery.

snaps at you when you try and help put anything together.

"you need to be in bed with your feet up, or something. just let me take care of it, alright?"

he just wants you to be pampered, in truth.

but once your little one has entered the world?

dad mode all the way.

he's always holding it, helping change diapers (even if he bitches about them sometimes), changing its clothes, playing with it (loves this part—always a huge smile on his face, especially when the baby is smiling, too).

he becomes everything his dad never was: a good man. and he has the love of a good woman that he knows is his forever.

until death do you part.

[natigail]

"I think, as you may have clocked in the show, from a period of time when I was feeling a certain way. It was towards the end of 2021, early 2022, where I was a bit, like, I need to do something. I have been on this hiatus, there has been a literal pandemic, the vibes are not amazing, and so I very much was like, I want to... Look. With Basically I'm Gay, I wrote myself out of the closet. Right? I used the hell that my career has trapped me in as an obligatory way to force my hand to rip the plaster off and confront my sexuality. Which was a good thing! Without all of you, without the internet, who knows? I might be in the closet, being a sad lawyer right now. Legitimately. And it was kind of the same thing here. I was, like, I want to just start creating a piece of entertainment and then maybe I'll entertain myself out of a hole. And if I go on a tour, then I'll get to touch grass. I'll get to smell the fresh air of Chicago, Illinois and wherever the fuck. I guess Helsinki had fresh air. Shout out to Europe. Ehm, and yeah. It was literally like a self-fulfilling prophecy, right? It was like writing the show and doing the show was the thing that I needed and here we are!" - Dan Howell, post-live premiere of we’re all doomed, 25th of February 2024

BIG and WAD are both such incredible things and I am emotional about the fact that he can sort out something so complex and private through sharing it with his audience.

Quotes from Dan (150/?)

[rainecreatesstuff]

something I really really love is the difference between qFit’s and qPac’s reactions to qTubbo’s fears about morning crew.

Like, Fit still cares about Tubbo a lot, still considers him and Sunny family, still loves them, but is so so frustrated by Tubbo acting the way he is. Which makes sense for him. I think that Fit has experienced loneliness enough to recognize it in others, but has experienced the typical loneliness of being physically alone. For him, loneliness is having nobody to watch your back, and seeing others have connections and attachments and aching for that. So for him, when Tubbo starts acting out after he and Pac don’t hang out with him for one day, of course he sees it as Tubbo being childish and frustrating.

And then later, we hear him talking to Ramón about how a friendship needs to go both ways. If Tubbo wants to be friends, he needs to reach out too. He can’t leave all the work for Fit. He sees Tubbo’s loneliness, and asks why he’s not coming to them.

Versus Pac, who I think is much more familiar with the kind of loneliness Tubbo is going through. Pac has had those experiences of being surrounded by people and feeling like you’re in a glass cage, watching everyone else interact while you’re just stuck. He sees Tubbo lashing out and sees it for what it is — an attempt to lessen the hurt of them growing apart by pushing it himself. While Fit strikes back at Tubbo, downs him, Pac just watches thoughtfully. Talks to Fit and Bagi about how they can make Tubbo happy again.

I think Pac understands a little bit better why it’s so hard for Tubbo to be the one to reach out. Gets that, when you feel like someone doesn’t care, it’s a lot easier to leave them be than to try to force that relationship to continue. It’s a lot easier to just wait in silence, to be less of a burden or annoyance, and if they really want to be friends, they’ll come to you.

And Fit’s not, like, bad for not getting it like Pac does. I think, to some degree, Tubbo needs to have somebody who’s not gonna let him stew in self-pity and try to rescue him every time. He needs somebody who’s gonna force him a little bit out of that comfort zone, that’s gonna make him realize that he’s constructing a self-fulfilling prophecy by hiding himself away.

And he also needs someone who’s gonna knock on his door at 10AM and wrap an arm around him and say Hey! We’re going to do this thing! And you’re coming too! I am specifically inviting YOU because I want to spend time with you! He needs someone who’s gonna see his rejection sensitivity for what it is and tell him he is loved and appreciated.

he needs both these things in moderation, and Fit and Pac are gonna be there to give him that. Maybe not perfectly, right now, because the emotional tide’s still high and they are trying to navigate the shift in dynamic.

But eventually, they’ll get there.

[moon-andstardust]

That scene. That scene right there is soo telling. We've known since the beginning that Blitz has commitment issues, but we're only now starting to see just how deep they ran and just how much they affect his relationships.

I feel like these words, "I love you," trigger blaring alarms in his head, a panic reaction. Remember what happened the first time he dared to love someone? The first time he tried to confess his love?

Oh, nothing big.

He just permanently disfigured his crush, killed his mother and ruined his sister's life*.

This accident, this event lies in the core of 90% of his issues and problems.

This is why he runs the second things get serious. This is why he dumps Verosica the second she says she loves him.

In Blitz's eyes, his love is destructive. His love only ruins. So if he cuts ties before things get too complicated, maybe the other person won't get even more hurt, even more damaged. It's a twisted and fucked up desire to protect not only himself and his heart but also his loved ones**. It has turned into a self-fulfilling prophecy and a never-ending cycle: the more he pushes and pushes and pushes, the more people push back. Because no one likes getting hurt. No one likes having their heart broken. And when these people finally snap, when they've had enough of Blitz's bullshit? He can point and say, see? I told you so! They are better off without me!

Blitz's cruelty doesn't stem from outright malice. It stems from Blitz being deeply broken and damaged.

Before he can start a stable romantic relationship of any kind, he needs to forgive himself for that accident. Otherwise, that deeply rooted self-loathing will continue to get in the way and cause him to repeatedly self-sabotage. And he has to do it himself, Verosika can't do it for him, M&M can't do it for him, Stolas can't do it for him.

The good news is that he is already taking the necessary steps. Making up with Fizz: a step in the right direction. Genuinely apologizing to Stolas and Verosika: a step in the right direction. Letting go of Stolas, realizing that his actions have serious consequences on his loved ones, owning up to his mistakes: all steps in the right direction. I don't know about ya'll but I'm eager to see where this is going and what happens next.

*it was an accident. Wrong place, wrong time, but Blitz sure as hell doesn't believe that.

**I belive this last bit is fully subconscious and Blitz isn't much aware of it. He says it himself: he buries all of it deep in his mind, avoids thinking about it at all costs

[lazythinking]

Smut aside… The idea of two friends finally fucking is actually so fraught. Say it’s you and Patrick, and being a girl around Patrick was always going to be hard; but the years go on and it gets harder and harder to tell whether or not his flirting is simply a friendly, slightly cruel joke, a bit between two best friends that has gone on for maybe too long. Very early on in the friendship, you put your foot down and told him straight up that you were not that kind of girl and you would ever fuck a friend. Never ever. He just shrugged it off and cackled boyishly, dismissing your concerns and saying he’s only fucking with you.

But now it’s fucking with him too. The years go on, you’ve settled into a comfortable job and living situation and his… future has not really gone to plan. When Patrick’s tired of sleeping over at whichever hookup he’s found for himself that night’s place, he takes shelter in your home, sleeping comfortably in your familiar futon, soothed to slumber by the familiar smell of your sheets. You’ve always been so kind to him, even though he definitely doesn’t deserve it. Not at all, not even a little bit.

Art and Tashi are, if not long gone now, quite unattached to the two of you beyond the occasional bumping into each other at the grocery store. They’ve left him behind is the point. So why did you stay? Why do you let him sprawl himself on the couch, your legs laying in his lap as you watch the TV, pretending not to be hurt too when he makes some awful half-joke about how he’s fucked up his life? Patrick knows this is true because you clutch his face when you’re drunk and look at him with this sad frown that makes his stomach churn. “It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy,” you tell him. “You keep saying that shit… and you’ll buy into it. So don’t.”

It fucking kills him. Recently he’s started to think a lot more about all this when he’s driving on the road; he’s beginning to gain a little perspective. There’s a name for that stomach-churning feeling, Patrick realises, but he wouldn’t dare to even say it in his mind. It’s not right. Someone like him should never even be seen with someone like you, a goody-two-shoes his family would love. So yes—when he’s fallen back into that comfortable habit of flirting with you… It kills him, too. Just like it’s always killed you. And there you go, breaking the only rule you had, the one thing you set down before you even became friends…

Patrick wakes up not on your futon, but in your real bed. Now he’s awfully sober and his life is fucking flashing before his eyes. Has he just ruined the one thing he had going for him? The sex was good, he thinks to himself, but not enough to justify this. (Really, it wasn’t just good, it was the best sex of his life, but why admit that?)

But then you throw your arm around him, soft skin brushing against his bare chest as your little fingers find their way up to clutch his jaw. You grumble softly, half-asleep and yet reaching out for him so tenderly. The question is inescapable and it remains present in his head like a giant blinking neon sign: are we still friends? Or are we… Patrick finds himself unable to say a word, rendered silent by your little gesture. He just leans into your touch. Slowly, he closes his eyes again. He doesn’t see it coming when you press a soft kiss onto his cheek, plush lips against his rough stubble. But God, he doesn’t mind it at all.

[angstychilz]

Y'all, the idea of Shapeford has wormed its way into my head and fundamentally changed my brain chemistry at this point. I mean, hear me out real quick!

Okay, okay, strap in cause this is a bit of a longer tangent than I usually yap about. I promise I'll make it worth your while QwQ

Firstly, considering I imagine this happening on the first day of Weirdmageddon (or at the very least some time very early in it), imagine what lengths the Pines' family would need to go in order to actually beat Bill this time. They can't pull the ol' switcheroo with Standford in the shape he's in now. Literally! I've had ideas on what this could lead to, but I've been swirling it around indecisively for about the entire time I have been growing this concept. Gotta let that baby cook for a few more days I guess XD

Then there is the fact that Ford being no longer human is, by all accounts, far more of a freak than he could have ever imagined himself as. And, depending on how you think about it, it really is a self-fulfilling prophecy at this point. Hell, to drive the point home, he actually has five fingers for once (since I imagine Euclidean's naturally have 4 fingers so by all accounts Ford is still Polydactyly) but that's the least freakish thing about him by human standards. He eats out of the same whole that has his eyes, he speaks and yet has no mouth, and he is the farthest thing from anything mammalian with his physical makeup. Even worse than that, there isn't anything he can exactly do to reverse the damage at this point. He's just a shape now as his human body was obliterated beyond truly fixing. So he'll just have to live with this new form, or, ya know, go crazy trying to find a way to reverse it.

Furthermore, while I like to imagine he would try softening the blow by just telling Dipper and Mable how Bill simply turned him into a shape for entertainment, having to admit to Stanley that the real reason he can't simply be turned back is because he was by all accounts killed and reincarnated as something completely different has so much angst potential. Like, fr fr, just think of Stanley realizing Staneford actually died, and imagine the distrust and hurt he'd feel considering their rocky brotherly bond to begin with and knowing the only reason his brother is 'back' is because Bill basically went 'nuh-uh' and turned Standford into this thing. Imagine the possible guilt of never truly reconciling with said human brother before whatever he is now.

Gosh, I just realized, would Standford never be able to leave Gravity Falls then due to the barrier? Would his weirdness make it so that the whole 'going to sail the seas with your twin brother' dream Stanley had is just dead in the water?

Also, a part of me is just made so delightfully ill at imagining Standford having untapped potential power in this form but being unable to access it due to his own metal barrier of trying to be less freakish and more 'human'. Whatever that means to him by this point.

Does this make any sense? Am I actually cooking? Y'all please, I feel like I'm only one this invested in the idea of a Shape Standford Pines and it has me in a chokhold

Anyways, this New Normal AU has been on my mind, and I just needed to dig out some of the brain worms to release the pressure in my head. Thanks for listening to my Ted Talk, and maybe expect some more doodles and art down the line cause I haven't even finished the possibilities.

[banamine-bananime]

meets an encouraging, patient, fatherly commanding officer that chooses tucker specifically for an assignment and takes him under his wing. he’s actually a secret operative for a sinister military project recruiting tucker as a target practice guinea pig orchestrating the next couple years of his life to be a lie.

meets an alien that tells tucker he’ll help him fulfill the quest he’s the legendary hero of. he chestbursts him and steals a getaway vehicle given upon the “end” of the quest.

meets some weird computer program programmed by the culture the prophecy came from, pretty much the only remaining source of information about this “quest” that’s upended his life. it’s actually the ai of the freelancer trying to kill him and kidnap and use his kid to end the great war… uh, with slavery of the alien species

meets one of his best friends, an acquired taste and kind of an ass, but they give each other as good as they get and they’re a team. she leaves them to make the plan to capture junior and use him to enslave his species succeed. and tucker feels like can’t even be mad about it without feeling guilty because in her mind she was sacrificing herself and junior to save humankind from a losing war for survival, and immediately after he thinks she fucking dies and takes his kid with her!! they were friends and then for a few minutes they were almost enemies because she did the worst thing for the best reasons and then that’s it!!! how do you even grieve and process that. apparently tucker opted for watching reservoir dogs instead of therapy and i can’t blame him. that’s not the sort of grief you can find a self-help book for. HELLO I’VE BEEN SCREAMING FOR YEARS. never over it they make me insane.

meet some humans on the desert dig-team, charismatic down-to-earth soldier guys. breath of fresh air after he’s been stuck for months in complicated political situations with a species that has just recently decided to perhaps not kill all humans, as a reluctant religious figurehead in diplomatic corps that i’m sure just loved his way with words and women. bet he made a lot of friends there. the dig team kills them all except him and he proceeds to spend the next months in a psychological thriller slash survival horror.

meet church again. church leaves again (and then again) and tucker’s left furiously picking up the pieces of blue team with caboose and some blond guy they rescued from the pound. we needn’t talk about that blond guy and whether tucker knows he both set up and hit the Original Church Killswitch lest tucker doesn’t know and hears us because i think he doesn’t need that extra complication in his life tbqh.

meets a charismatic mercenary with a rough exterior, but a heart of gold, right when tucker and caboose have lost all of blue team’s charismatic mercenaries and/or assholes with a rough exterior but a heart of gold. he. well. he stabs him in the back, guys. you know. i can’t get more on-the-nose than that.

meets church again. he seems like maybe he kind of gets that he was an ass and won’t go off killing himself this time. immediately after reconciling he sees the siren call of martyrdom and kills himself instantly after simulating several ways it could go very, very extremely badly for tucker, not even counting the previous evidence from how this went for some blond guy (sorry i’m committed to just calling him some blond guy in this post now for no reason except that i think it’s a mildly funny bit).

meets church someone else who’s been fucked over by project freelancer. he’s been manipulating them to get close enough to freezermurder their friends and implicate them in terrorism charges.

meets yet another young stray asshole with Issues and a heart of gold who needs some guidance, maybe someone he can be the kind of a leader he wishes he could have been to green team. she also stabs him again.

at some point we have to let tucker just start stabbing people. like a lot of people. i don’t think he’d enjoy a villain arc once he realizes that’s what’s happening but he deserves the sheer free joy and clarity of just solving problems with pure simple stabbing before he comes to that realization.

[melrosing]

How do you think Tommen and Myrcella will die?

wouldn’t be surprised if the sand snakes are responsible for Myrcella’s death, think their rebellion against Doran’s passivity is foreshadowed pretty clearly. maybe revelations wrt Gregor will be sufficient motive?

as for Tommen, I tend to think Cersei will be indirectly responsible for his death. he’ll be the last to go and the one she’s determined not to lose, but that determination will end up killing him. if I had to guess…. he’s going down w the wildfire. likeno way an eight year old is hopping out the window per the show, so I think somehow Cersei is distracted from Tommen’s exact whereabouts when she enacts the wildfire plot to take out the Tyrells (or else he escapes her confines and goes to Margaery), and he burns w the rest of them

it occurred to me on the last reread that this passage feels like a really grim bit of foreshadowing

Green flames leapt into the sky and whirled around each other. Tommen shied away, till Margaery took his hand and said “Look, the flames are dancing. Just as we did, my love.”

“They are.” His voice was filled with wonder. “Mother, look, they’re dancing.”

“I see them.”

[…]

The wildfire was cleansing her, burning away all her rage and fear, filling her with resolve.

CERSEI III, AFFC

by foreshadowing I mostly just mean the placement of the characters in this scene: here’s Cersei learning the appeal of wildfire, embracing her inner Aerys etc, letting it burn away all sense and reason. and then there’s the Tyrells all standing around, not knowing the significance of this just yet, and Tommen cowering at first but then being drawn a little closer by Margaery, and they both just decide ‘oh, the flames are pretty’. whereas obviously the reader know what wildfire is capable of. I think it would be more obvious if we had actual visuals of this scene where the green is bouncing off the faces of the Tyrells and Tommen lol.

and ofc it’s a given that all of AFFC and ADWD is Cersei telling herself ‘it’s all for Tommen’ when ofc it’s not, it’s for her, she loves Tommen on some level but subconsciously places herself first every time. she beats him down whilst telling herself she’s lifting him up, she draws him closer into an embrace that’s suffocating etc etc, it’s standard self-fulfilling prophecy stuff she’s gonna kill that kid bc that is the ultimate irony

[tangledinink]

In lieu of a new chapter-- I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? one-shot! In which Leo cannot sleep, and events occur as a result. NOW UP ON ao3!!! Or, read below the cut!!!

It was another one of those.

Those little loops he got into sometimes.

Insomnia was kind of like that, funnily enough. Really hot-and-cold, waxing and waning, on and off, or at least it was for him. So sometimes, it really wasn’t so bad. He’d sleep relatively well for weeks at a time. Granted, it was never as simple as just laying his head on the pillow and falling asleep (could you imagine?), but with a little bit of work, he could eventually manage to get himself off to dreamland and get a good six or seven hours. And that was awesome, by Leo’s standards! It was great when it was like that!

But that was when it was good.

Sometimes, it was harder than that. Sometimes, it took herculean efforts to get himself to sleep each night. Sometimes, he’d be lucky if he got three or four hours, no matter what he did, with the occasional all-nighter sprinkled in here or there, just for the fun of it. And that was less than ideal for, like, a lot of reasons, obviously, but at least it was tolerable. That was kind of the usual for him, quite frankly, and he knew how to operate under such circumstances by now.

So, you know. Sometimes it was good. And sometimes, it was hard, but overall okay.

The real problem came when things… got away from him.

He knew how to weather a no-sleep kinda night. He was comfortable with taking the occasional L and just grinning and bearing it for the day. That was fine, it happened, not a huge deal. He could handle all that.

Two all-nighters in a row? Okay. Now we’re starting to run into a problem, but still not anything insurmountable. Things will probably suck for the day, but he’s capable of muscling his way through and remaining (mostly) functional. That’s what they made Red Bull for, obviously.

It’s on the third night, usually at around one in the morning, that he always starts to think that maybe he might be in real trouble. And that was really his downfall. The thinking. 

Despite his best efforts, he’d always climb into bed on the third night, intending on getting, like, some bomb-ass sleep, finally, because surely his body is ready for it after two nights in a row, right? But then always, without fail, that stupid little voice in his head would eventually go,

Oh my god, is this the start of a Loop?

And he’d go, NOOOO, why did you say that!? Why would you jinx us like that!? Now the insomnia heard you!!!

And that would be that. A self-fulfilling prophecy. His stupid, dumbass brain would go, oh no, what if we get stuck in a Loop? and then his anxiety would kick in, grabbing onto the thoughts and sinking its teeth in and going, oh no, oh god, please, we’ve gotta sleep, this is night three, we can’t keep going like this! and his heart rate would pick up, and all his nerves would flash on stark and bright, and all the cogs would start spinning in his annoying, useless brain, everything switching on and going into overdrive… 

Which, of course, would simply ensure that he wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night.

And then, all of a sudden, he’d be in a Loop.

That was when things were truly bad. When he was ‘Looping,’ so to speak, trapped in these dumb little circles, endlessly worrying and stressing about his inability to get to sleep and keeping himself awake. And the longer he went without sleep, the more panicked he’d get, and the less ability he’d have to keep himself in check and apply, you know, actual reason or logic to anything. And then he’d start getting desperate. He’d just do more and more stupid things to try to get himself to sleep, and he’d freak his family out and scare them, and then feel awful about it later. 

He wasn’t allowed to hang onto his own trazodone prescription anymore because he had once, in a state of overtired delirium and panic, accidentally taken too much. 

He had been fine, really, it wasn’t like he took that much-- he mostly just gave himself a killer headache. But he sure had freaked Dad out. And maybe also himself.

He hated worrying them. And he knew they all already worried about how much he slept as, like, a baseline, let alone when things were bad, even if bad only came around every few months or so. Especially because it wasn’t like he wasn’t trying. He really was! He tried so frickin’ hard. His dad had dragged him to, like, a dozen different sleep doctors and specialists or whatever (that brave soul, he always shook like a leaf every time, which Leo also hated,) and they’d tried twice as many different medications and tricks and home treatments or whatever, but nothing actually, truly fixed the problem. Not forever, anyway.

The point was, it sucked.

He didn’t like it. 

It was stressful, and it was unpleasant.

And, quite frankly? It was scary.

And the longer he was awake, the scarier it would be, because the longer he was awake the less he could trust himself. When he was like this, even the simplest of tasks would suddenly become so freaking hard.

Leo was not a chef by any means, but he was competent enough that he could at least do simple things like make a sandwich or cut up an apple for himself. But he only had to nick himself with a knife once, clumsy with sleepiness, for his Loop Self to suddenly be terrified of the kitchen.

Likewise, Leo though typically perfectly capable of navigating the streets of the city, but only had to get a bit turned around and confused on a single occasion for his Loop Self to be petrified of leaving the house alone-- even if he had found his way in a matter of minutes that first time.

It only took him sending one stupid sleep-drunk text to the wrong person by mistake for his Loop Self to become too frightened to text people for fear of somehow sending something awful to the wrong person and promptly destroying his social life.

It didn’t matter how unlikely or niche the fear was. Every time he got like this, his Loop Self would find more ways to be anxious and more things to be terrified of. And the longer he was awake, the more paranoid he would get.

This was his fourth night. 

This wasn’t the longest Leo had ever stayed up, but that was of little comfort to him at the moment. During the day, it really wasn’t that bad. Like, yeah, Loop Leo would always be there, kind of whispering in his ears, but it was a lot easier to ignore them in the light of day. He could still be a person during the day, at least, mostly, even if he was afraid the entire time. But at night? Once it was dark out and the rest of his family had gone to bed?

That was when Loop Leo truly came out to play.

And looping he most certainly was doing, pacing anxiously through his room and tugging at his hair, his nose wrinkled up as he scowled. 

You should lie down. Like. Get in bed? So you can sleep? You can’t go to sleep if you’re not laying down, and you need to sleep, Leo pointed out.

What if something happens while we’re asleep? Loop Leo countered. Besides, we can’t lie down. Laying down makes us feel like we’re losing it. Can’t you feel how much energy we have?!

That’s not energy. That’s anxiety, Leo argued from his current spot, way in the back of his own mind, trapped in some tiny metaphorical cage. But, of course, he was ignored.

‘Cause the real bummer of the matter was that the later it got on nights like this, the more ‘Loop Leo’ and ‘Leo’ kind of blurred together, until they were basically just the same person.

He paced for a while, spiraling around his room. He checked the locks on all his windows, and then he went downstairs and checked all the doors and the security system. He then almost set off said security system because his brain was so foggy and moving so slowly that he nearly mistyped the password. And then when he realized his close call, he had spent some time stressing about that, too, laying on the couch with his face buried in the pillows, because he just didn’t wanna be in one place right now, and besides, his room felt too small to be in anymore.

Leo groaned softly, rolling over onto his front, pulling the pillow over his head as he did so. He thought quietly to himself that he should have asked Dad for sleepy drugs, but then he would have worried Dad, and Dad would be stressed, and he didn’t even know if it would work for sure, and what if he poisoned himself, somehow, actually?

That’s literally why Dad holds onto the drugs. So that doesn’t happen. Just go wake him up! He won’t mind. He’ll give you the drugs. He’ll give you the correct dose! 

Nope, absolutely not. We cannot do that. Leo whined to no one in particular, rubbing at his face with his hands and rolling over onto his feet again. And he kind of stumbled a bit, and nearly fell over, but he didn’t. 

He couldn’t stay in one place anymore. It was driving him crazy.

He went down to the Lair. He played video games for, like, an hour and a half, and he lost every single one. He thought about playing Minecraft or something simple like that, but he was afraid he’d accidentally fuck it up and then be crushed about it later, so he didn’t. He laid out the gym mats with the intention of practicing some of his gymnastics routines that he was working on, and then thought, what, are you crazy? Right now, like this? You’ll break both your legs. You’ll get a head injury and die. So he put the mats back away. 

His sleepy brain thought about messing with some of Donnie’s stuff for a minute, ‘cause it might be funny, and then the anxiety brain went, are you insane!? And so he talked himself out of it at the last minute, heading back upstairs.

He checked all the windows and doors, (again,) and then peeked his head into his Dad’s room, just to make sure that he was still there and alive. He was, and was furthermore snoring softly in his bed, and Leo internally sighed in relief. He did another lap around the ground floor before he went up to the second, and did the same exact thing. Checked all the windows, and then checked on Mikey and Raph. And, just as he expected (or rather hoped?) they were both there. Mikey was all curled up in bed, snuggled up with his pillow, and drooling slightly on himself. His limbs would kind of twitch every now and again as he dreamed, and Leo smiled a tiny bit at the sight. Raph was splayed out across his mattress, amongst all his blankets and pillows and stuffed animals, his limbs flopped out in every which direction. Leo watched him for a little bit, too, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the doorframe, watching as his chest slowly rose and fell with each breath.

He stayed there for a few minutes, lingering on each family member for a spell before he finally moved on, closing the door behind him as he quietly could.

He made his way back up to the third floor. And he kind of had one of those ‘out-of-it’ moments for a second there and got dizzy and sort of blacked out real quick and almost fell, but then he didn’t. He caught himself, so it was fine, totally fine, but he still kind of rushed a bit the rest of the way up the stairs because suddenly he was sort of scared to be on them.

Once he reached the top, he ended up sitting in the hall for a bit, clenching and unclenching his fists and staring up at the ceiling. Eventually, he laid down on the hardwood floor, curled up on his side, and closed his eyes, like somehow this would be the fix and laying in the middle of the floor was the answer and he would finally be able to fall asleep like this. He stayed there for maybe five minutes before he gave up and got back to his feet, and he wandered towards Donnie’s room to do the exact same thing he had just done on the last two floors.

Very carefully, very quietly, he cracked open the door, leaning through the doorway to peek his head in, blinking a few times to adjust to the lighting.

And Donnie was there. Bundled up in bed beneath his weighted blanket, fast asleep, just like the rest of his family. Just like Leo had known (hoped) he would be.

See? Leo told himself. He’s fine. Everyone is fine. Chill.

And that should have been enough, right? That should be fine. He had physical eyes on him. He could see him, right there, literally, like, five feet away. 

The problem was that Donnie always slept under the covers, with his big weighted blanket layered up on top, curled up into a little ball. And his back was on Leo right now, facing the wall, leaving him with only a view of the back of his head.

So he couldn’t see if he was breathing or not.

This is stupid, Leo protested. Of course he’s breathing. Why wouldn’t he be breathing?

What if he’s not? Loop Leo countered. Something could have happened. He could be dead.

He’s not dead. And even if he was, what would we do about it? Cast Revivify? Use a Max Revive? 

Maybe he’s dying. 

Maybe he’s dying right now.

Maybe he just stopped breathing, just now.

Maybe he stopped breathing just before we came in, and he’s still alive, but not breathing, and we could still save him. What if we’re watching him die right now? What if he’s dying right now in front of us and we’re just watching him? 

What if he’s dying, and he dies, and then we’re just one person instead of a set? What if we have to live without him? What if we never talk to him again? And we can’t ask him for help with our homework ever again, or play Mario Kart with him, or show him dumb botany memes that make him laugh? What will you do when you see a stupid science joke and you wanna send it to him and make fun of it with him? What then?

What if he dies and leaves you and you let it happen?

He’s dying right now and you’re watching it happen.

Do something!!!

Leo’s feet were moving before he even realized they were.

He kind of stumbled a bit in his rush, not being the most coordinated person at the moment, only just managing to avoid face-planting right into Donnie’s bed frame. He kind of ended up flopping against Donnie’s bed, half falling on top of him, grabbing onto his blanket to hang onto and using his free hand to grab him and shake him.

“Donnie?” He hissed frantically, practically digging his nails into his brother’s form through the blankets. “Donnie!? Wake up!” He tightened his grip as his heart climbed up into his throat, because oh my god, he was dead, he wasn’t waking up, and he didn’t know what to do, and he was about to start screaming for their dad--

“Wha--? Leo? What the fuck is-- The house had better be on fire--” Donnie slurred, his voice weighed down with sleep, and Leo kind of paused for a moment, stopping dead and staring at him.

All he could hear was his own heartbeat pounding wildly in his ears.

And then he sobbed, immediately throwing his arms around his twin and clinging desperately to him.

Donnie chirped in surprise, sort of floundering, his eyes wide as he stiffened.

“Leo? What’s going on? What’s wrong?” 

“I-- I thought you were dead--” Leo wept pitifully, burying his face against his shoulder.

“... Why would I be dead?”

“I-- I couldn’t see you breathing!!!”

“Leo, what the hell are you talking about? And why are you in my room?”

Leo hiccuped weakly, because, like, he didn’t actually have a good way to answer that? Hostage-Leo rattled the bars of their metaphorical mind cage and fucking wailed because oh my god, STOP, you are embarrassing yourself and being soooo fucking insane right now and it is NOT CUTE, get it together right this fucking instant!!!-- But actual, physical Leo did not have it together. Not in this instant or any of the following instances. He just wept and burrowed in closer to Donnie, hugging him as tight as he possibly could, and he knew he was probably pissing him off and he had just woken him up and he probably didn’t like this, but he had just--

He had been so fucking scared that he was dead.

He had been so scared that he was gone forever, and he’d never ever see him again.

Donnie sighed deeply, reluctantly wrapping an arm around Leo as he whimpered into his shoulder, giving him a few awkward pats on the back.

“You’re totally sleep deprived, aren’t you?”

“Y-yeahhhhhh…”

“Are you in a Loop?”

“Mm-hmm…”

“How many days has it been?”

“Foouuuurrrrrrrrr…”

“Jesus christ, Nardo.”

“I love y-youuuu…”

“Why didn’t you ask Dad for meds?”

“I don’t knowwww…!” Leo sobbed, because how the hell was he supposed to explain that, actually, he was too scared to do that because what if he somehow accidentally poisoned himself and died? That just seemed like wayyy too much to try to unpack at four in the morning, quite frankly.

“Oh my god. You’re so stupid…”

“Y-yeah…”

“And you’re totally losing it, I assume?”

“Mmm…”

“Okay,” Donnie sighed, patting Leo’s shoulders a few more times. “Come on. Get up.”

Leo whined loudly, tightening his grip in response and curling up closer to Donnie, all but koala-clinging to him while Donnie huffed a bit at the increased weight.

“Lee, come on--”

“Please lemme stay! I promise I, I won’t w-wake you up again--”

“You can stay, Nardo, but we’ve gotta go get meds first, okay?”

“Noooo…”

“Yessssss,” Donnie insisted, imitating his drawn-out, whiny tone, trying to pry his brother off of him. “Come on. You’re fucked up, so just let me fix you already, dum-dum. We’ve just gotta go downstairs and get your meds from Dad, alright?”

“I don’t wanna take meds…”

“Yes, you do, your brain is just operating at an even lower capacity than usual right now,” Donnie insisted, finally managing to worm his way out from under Leo and get up to his feet. Leo whimpered, a tiny bit of panic flaring up in his chest, attempting to chase after him and grab him back, but Donnie quickly danced out of the way, purposefully standing just out of arm’s reach.

“Come on. I’m going downstairs to get Dad. So if you wanna hang out and not be all by yourself, you’re gonna have to follow me,” he said firmly, crossing his arms over his chest and fixing him with a hard stare.

Leo groaned softly, taking a moment, rubbing at his face with his hands and crying for just a tiny bit longer. He was feeling very miserable and frightened, as well as feeling very stupid for being so miserable and frightened. But even more than either of those, he just felt exhausted, and so very much did not want to have to get up or move or do anything else.

But even more than that-- he didn’t wanna be alone.

Finally, after several long moments, Leo gathered up just enough resolve to get to his feet, only wobbling a little bit as he did so. He reluctantly followed Donnie out into the hall, hanging onto their hand like a lifeline and sniffling softly. Honestly, he was being so brave about this. As soon as they approached the stairwell, however, he stopped short, digging his heels in with a whine and pulling back against the other.

Donnie sighed, his shoulders slumping with quiet exasperation.

“Leo, we’ve gotta go downstairs, remember?”

“Dee…”

“Leo.”

“I don’t wanna.”

Donnie quirked a brow.

“Okay, and?”

“I’m gonna fall down,” he hissed out, his voice absolutely drenched in worry, cracking the tiniest bit at the end. Much to his chagrin, he could feel himself tearing up again, but what if he did? He almost had coming up! What if he fell down and fractured his skull or something? Or even worse, what if he fell and took Donnie down with him, and fractured his skull? 

Donnie absolutely rolled his eyes at him.

“Leo, you’re not going to fall down. You are literally an award-winning acrobat. And I am also literally an award-winning acrobat. And I am holding your hand right now,” he said, shaking his arm as if to demonstrate. “And they’re stairs. I think that we can handle it with our powers combined. It is fine. You’re not gonna get hurt. I’m right here. Chill,” he pressed. “Are you ready?”

Leo wrinkled up his nose, hesitating. Donnie narrowed his eyes.

“Okay, look,” he huffed. “You can stay here if you want, but I have to go downstairs to get Dad so we can get your meds. So you can either wait up here, and I’ll be right back, or you can come down the stairs with me and we’ll go together. It’s your choice.”

Okay, fine. He’d brave the stairs. If he had to choose between risking the trip down or letting go of Donnie, who had literally just almost died, (... kinda,) then the stairs were definitely the lesser evil. 

Inhaling sharply and steeling himself, they started the trip downwards.

And would you believe it?

They were fine. 

He got a little overwhelmed and dizzy at a few places, but each time Donnie kept a hold on his arms, hanging onto him to make sure he stayed upright until it passed, and, hey, you know what? It turns out that he was, in fact, still fully capable of walking down stairs. Who knew? Hahaha…

Once they were on the ground floor, Donnie wasted no time in heading down the hall, towing Leo along by their connected hands into their dad’s room.

“Dad,” Donnie hissed softly, reaching over to try to shake him into consciousness. The poor man had been dozing quite peacefully up until now, and sort of twitched and snorted in his sleep slightly, mumbling to himself.

“I swear I’ve never been to Dallas…”

“Dad! Wake up!” Donnie pressed, a bit louder now, nudging him a few more times, until finally, their dad startled awake, his head jerking upwards as he blinked blearily.

“Hm…? Purple…? What’s… What’s wrong…?”

“Mom, I frew up,” Leo mumbled sleepily, extending his shoulders forward slightly to try to do the pose. Donnie whipped around to absolutely glare at him.

“Are you seriously quoting a fucking meme right now!?”

Leo giggled softly, maybe a bit hysterically, covering his face with his free hand and slumping against Donnie. His brother sighed loudly, rolling his eyes and scowling.

“Father, Leo needs his trazodone.”

Their dad was still clearly half-asleep, and it took him a second to process this, but to his credit he caught on fairly quickly, looking between the two and humming softly.

“Of course, of course…” he said, rolling over slightly in bed so he could begin shuffling through the drawers of his nightstand. Donnie, in the meantime, hoisted Leo off of himself, shoving him instead onto the bed.

“Sit.”

“You too!” Leo protested, and Donnie grumbled.

“Yes, okay, I’m also sitting. See me sitting?” He said, gesturing to himself with a flourish as he plopped down by his brother’s side, elbowing him a bit. “Here. Move over. Not, not there, there-- Stop it. If you fucking touch my face I’m going to fucking end you I swear to god--”

“Blue,” their father interrupted, tapping his shoulder to get his attention. Leo blearily turned to face him, blinking slowly, and his dad very carefully pressed a little white oval pill into his palm. “Here.”

Leo stared for a moment, processing. And then he picked the pill up in his fingers, examining it carefully.

One. There was one of them.

And he was pretty confident it was trazodone.

And there was just one. And it was 150mg. He was supposed to have 150mg. This should be… right. It should be okay. He was… 80% sure. He counted a few more times, just to be safe.

“It’s the right dose, Blue. It’s alright. I double-checked,” Dad assured, passing them over a glass of water from his bedside table as well. “I promise it’s okay.”

“You’re fine, Nardo,” Donnie mumbled, having already flopped down onto his stomach, curled up against his twin’s side. He reached over so he could rub Leo’s back. Or maybe kind of smack it. Flail his arm at it? “Dad won’t fuck it up or poison you. Please just take your meds.”

And Leo considered this for a second. And yeah, okay.

He supposed that checked out. 

He was still scared. But he took the pill anyway, tipping his head back to swallow it down.

“Thank you,” Dad said, resisting a yawn, plucking the water back from his hands to place out of harm’s way before patting his back a few times. “Come on. Lay down.”

Donnie muttered what might have been agreement, snuggling his way under the covers, his eyes already closed. Leo hummed softly in response, and then very slowly, carefully, eased his way down in bed beside the others.

He blinked up at the ceiling, shifting a bit to settle in, laying his head down against the pillow. Donnie adjusted the blankets around Leo, yanking them up over him, wriggling somewhat to force Leo to scootch over slightly so he could curl up against his side. And on his other side, Dad settled in as well, rolling over slightly so that he could wrap an arm around Leo.

And so Leo settled in, too. 

And he waited.

Waited to see if the drugs were gonna kick in properly and knock him out or not.

And it was kind of nice, at least, because he could feel both of them breathe like this.

He started doing that thing he tried to do sometimes, where he made a mental list of some random category in alphabetical order, because, in theory, it would help you get to sleep. He was doing comic book characters this time, rolling his tongue around in his mouth as he stared up at the ceiling.

Astro Boy. Batman. Catwoman. Daredevil. Eddie Brock. Fantastic Four. Ghost Rider. Hawkgirl.

He was surprised when, in his second rotation through the ABC’s, he heard Donnie very softly mumble.

“Are you asleep yet?”

Leo gaped for a moment.

“... You’re not?”

“No, dum-dum. I’m waiting for you,” Donnie whispered in response, and he heard his father very softly hum on the other side of him, drawing him in just a bit closer and giving him a gentle squeeze.

“... You don’t have to--”

“Shut up,” Donnie interrupted. “Are you doing the deep breathing thing?”

“... No, I’m doing the alphabet thing.”

“Okay. Keep going,” Donnie bade, nuzzling up against his shoulder slightly, and Leo couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah. Okay,” he whispered into the darkness of the room, laying his head back down again and settling in properly this time, sandwiched between the two.

“Oh. Also, I love you too. Let the record show that I said it back.”

Leo laughed a tiny bit.

He closed his eyes.

Iron Man. Jean Grey. Kitty Pryde. Lightspeed.

… Moon Knight… Nightcrawler…

…Obelix…

…

… Professor X…

…

… … …

[sirfrogsworth]

Thoughts on Live Action Avatar: TLA

I'm sure people are going to hate this. Some for valid reasons. Some because of endless nitpicking that really has no bearing on how good or bad it actually was. Some because they have already chosen to hate it and it's just a self-fulfilling prophecy.

But I always root for things to be good. I want them to succeed. And I always go into everything I watch with the hope and expectation it will be good. I turn off my critical brain and try to just experience the show for what it is. As I said, I saw no trailers. I read no reviews. I knew almost nothing about the production of this going in.

Initially, things were rough... buddy.

And I think that is a longstanding problem with live action TV shows in general. I am always reminded of Star Trek TNG and how it took two seasons (48 episodes) before they figured out what the hell they were doing. Back then shows were able to find their footing and grow and learn. Actors were given time to find their characters and understand them and finally become them.

But now, every show has to be amazing from the start or they get cancelled. And I think people have become very unforgiving of first seasons as well. I feel like not enough people consider the potential of something getting better. And I think that is a shame.

So, yes, Avatar started out rough. They tried to cram all of the exposition into the first 20 minutes. And that was unpleasant. The effects were jarring at first. It is incredibly difficult to translate animation into live action. And please don't say the CGI was "bad." It wasn't. There was just so much that needed to be packed into every frame of this show to make it work, and finding a way to make it all seamlessly blend is a monumental task. I think the artists did an amazing job with the constraints of essentially making an 8 hour movie in the time usually given a 2 hour one.

But as the show continued, the actors seemed more comfortable in their roles. The showrunners seemed to figure out what worked and what didn't. The quality across the board started to improve. Especially when they started to deviate a little bit from following the cartoon. I also noticed that the effects that were jarring in the beginning eventually stopped bothering me and breaking immersion. I got used to them and was able to just focus on the story. And I think they got a little better as well. The bending was much more convincing as the show progressed. And it was a bajillion times better than the slow-motion bending of that movie that shall not be named.

And by the final episode, I was all in. The Avatar monster was really cool. And I was crying my eyes out and having all kinds of emotions. And there were some changes they made to the story which I actually thought made more sense. And I was glad this show was doing a few things to differentiate rather than being an exact carbon copy.

It won me over.

And I know it won't do that for everyone. And perhaps I am forgiving a lot of sins just because I wanted it to be good. The original was my absolute favorite show of all time. I just liked spending time with these characters again.

But I liked it more than I didn't and I'm hoping that is the general consensus, but I fear that is not the case.

Things I really liked...

I thought the actor playing Sokka was really great. They didn't give him enough humorous material. But I think this kid absolutely nailed the role. And if this gets another season, I do hope he can show Sokka's lighter side a bit more.

Ken Leung also did amazing as Zhao. I think he surpassed his cartoon counterpart in villainy. I loved hating him.

The final battle was beautiful. I think they probably dedicated a lot of resources to that. Maybe at the expense of other things. But I think it was worth it to end strong.

In the first season of the cartoon, the trauma was often skipped over or kept very brief. I'm sure the idea of dealing with genocide and war time trauma was not an easy sell to Nickelodeon initially. But they did actually take the time to show some of that trauma, especially with Katara and Sokka. And I cried a bunch.

They seemed to go to considerable effort to have a diverse cast. I am glad they learned that lesson from the movie.

That said, they probably could have brought back Dee Bradley Baker to make the animal noises. This might have been an overcorrection...

I guess this will give the anti-wokesters something to complain about since the original was already super woke and it is probably a challenge to complain about the new thing being woke as well. Though I'm sure they are up to the challenge.

Things I didn't care for...

The compressed timeline caused a few stories to be combined and accelerated. I understand why that was necessary. But there were some important moments of character growth that got lost.

Sokka's missing sexism. I think it is much more useful to see someone grow and change and let go of their problematic traits than to pretend that never existed. Sokka's sexism was a symbol of the conservative views within water tribe culture in general. It was also foreshadowing for the conflict with Pakku (which was also minimized). I just think young viewers seeing a character overcome ingrained ideals has a greater influence than just erasing that aspect from the character.

Things I hated...

Princess Yue's hair. You get the amazing Amber Midthunder to play Yue, and she does an amazing job with extremely abbreviated screen time, but I couldn't stop staring at whatever that was they put on her noggin. I know I criticized people for nitpicking, but that was very distracting. I don't know exactly how it could have been done better, but I worry a great performance is going to get overshadowed by... hair.

In conclusion...

I think the people making this show loved the source material. I can see that love. I think they tried very hard to make the best show possible. And I also know they are probably going to get a lot of hate. I still haven't looked at the reviews because I didn't want to be influenced when writing this. But I can feel the review bombing as we speak.

But this was not a Witcher situation where the writers didn't respect the source material. This was displaying how incredibly difficult it is to convert one of the most beautifully animated shows in existence into live action. Maybe that is an argument for not making live action versions. Though I usually love them when they work and am happy both versions exist.

I really hope people can remember the original still exists and they can completely disregard this and watch the cartoon any time they wish. This doesn't have to "ruin their childhood." These two things can exist and everyone is perfectly capable of ignoring all of the live action material.

But I do hope this gets another season. I think that final episode showed the potential. I think the cast was getting comfortable in their roles and they deserve another chance to show what they can do.

I love Paul Sun-Hyung Lee and I think he was a great choice for Iroh. But Mako's shoes are probably the biggest shoes in the existence of shoes to try and fill. I do not envy the task he was given. But every once in a while I saw that Mako spirit come out in his performance and I think he could use another season to really find that and show us what he is capable of.

This felt a lot like The Phantom Menace to me. There was actually a ton of amazing stuff to love in that movie. But it didn't quite work the way the original movies did. But I think this was good enough to hope for the future.

[elsecrytt]

gojo only ever being needed and not wanted broke my hearttt noooo. i just love gojo x mundanity so so much. all he wants in life is a quiet peaceful life with someone who just sees him without his six eyes. there will always be something so bittersweet about that mostly cuz he'll never allow himself to have that life completely:/

i've seen that one post going around that's like "“if i cannot be wanted, i will be needed and if i cannot be needed, let me be used until there’s nothing left of me” and although i don't think gojo is actually that self-sacrificing, i do see a bit of him in there.

like, we know for sure he treasures "youth" and in particular his own "youth" very deeply. we see the s2 opening with him in high school with geto and the other students, doing just regular things, looking genuinely happy and having tons of fun.

gojo used to smile and laugh with people. people who were his peers. and maybe that was mostly possible because they were peers then, instead of him being the pinnacle of sorcerer society. when kenjaku shows up he gets a minute-long internal flashback of all those old times. it meant a lot to him.

on the other hand, though, gojo is absolutely a bit of a bully deep down. he was still a jerk sometimes in high school (though he DID have a good heart - hence the thing with riko) and he clearly has fun when he's fighting curses lol. he takes a lot of joy in his power, and why wouldn't he? it's kinda all he's got going for him. self-fulfilling prophecy and all.

ngl a bunch of the lines in that piece came from this yandere!gojo wip that's still in the drafts. basically gojo wants a non-sorcerer to play house with and he's ecstatic about this whole "relationship building" thing. he has no hobbies bc everything is easy for him, but his personality - and the circumstances - make winning your love an actual challenge that he can have fun with.

but internally his logic is actually kinda sad and understandable. gojo is worried he'll go insane like geto did. lose all sympathy for regular people, and for other sorcerers, too - maybe his own students.

and if gojo loses it, who's going to stop him?

if gojo loses it, and gives up on humanity like geto did, then what was the point of killing geto in the first place?

that can't happen if he has a non-sorcerer lover. and honestly? i do think gojo genuinely does like people, in the general sense. he likes getting specialty sweets and playing baseball. he takes his students out for meals. the memories we see of his youth? him in the arcade, walking home from school, eating out with his friends.

i think he likes ordinary, mundane things a lot, even if he loves the other parts of his life. he probably loves bugging baristas and fast food employees and passerbys in his life. he is lonely at the top, but with regular people, he can pretend he isn't.

it's tragic, but in a way, it's also an issue of his own making. i don't buy gojo's whole "you can admire a blooming flower, but you can't ask it to understand you" crap. gojo, loneliness and isolation are a part of the human condition. you are NOT the first or only person who feels this way. i'm optimistic that he could get through it if he tried... if gege didn't have it out for him LMAO

[brucewaynehater101]

You ever think about what would happen if Bruce had to kill in self defence?

Like literally no other choice, just attacked without holding back because he knows he’s about to die, and he puts a bit more force behind it than he expects and suddenly they’re not moving why aren’t they moving what has he done—

I haven’t put a lot of thought into it, and it depends entirely on how you write his character, but I think he’d either A. spiral before eventually coming to terms with the fact that there really was no other option at the time, B. panic and hide all evidence and pretending nothing happened while slowly spiralling into a pit of self loathing, OR if you want to go the really angsty route, maybe he hides all evidence and after some spiralling convince himself that it’s fine he’s Batman he needs to stay Batman so he’ll just put this behind himself and pretend it never happened, it was just one time it’s fine, but then one of his kids unearths some piece of footage or something and demands why the rules don’t apply to him, why he can keep on working and isn’t a threat despite being a killer yet Jason always gets shit for even knocking someone out. And mayybe one of the other batkids recently killed in self defence too, and Batman was lecturing them because ‘there’s always another option’ and how they shouldn’t be out in the field if they put civilians at risk, when Jason or Babs or someone calls him a hypocrite and it spirals from there…

Ooh ~ I like how you added the element that Bruce didn't mean to kill them. He never actually made that choice.

Despite Bruce's steadfast rules against killing, the man has killed before. Imma link an article here so y'all can look into it. Basically, pre-Robin Batman (or his beginning years as the caped crusader) used to have no issue with killing. This storyline was changed so that he had never killed at all, but it is interesting to ponder. He has made kills since his character insisted he has and never will kill, though. Some of the ones listed are alternative universes or times he was sure his enemy would survive despite their situation seeming to depict otherwise.

Therefore, it's not a stretch to say he would or has killed. There's some fics that examine the hc that Bruce DID kill someone (or multiple people) in that pre-Tim era and repressed/denied the hell out of that notion. Extending that out to other circumstances would cool af.

Anyways, let's look at this AU specifically!

The three reactions Bruce can have about this are:

The mentally healthy one of coming to terms and accepting this kill

Hide all of the evidence, spiral, and try to justify it to himself while remaining a hypocrite

Repress the fuck out of his memories (including killing, hiding the evidence, and anything else surrounding it) to deny it happened

The first one has opportunities for good dad Bruce where he communicates with actual words to his kids that he'd rather they come home alive. Great hurt/comfort for that route.

The second one is full throttle fuck Bruce. He's a hypocrite who berates the others for their choices in the field, reacts explosively to them even hinting at murder, and overall no one (including Bruce) is having a good time.

The third one has four options:

Bruce is obv not mentally well. He can receive help, come to terms, and eventually end up as good dad

He keeps denying despite how much evidence is proven otherwise, causing him to spiral and jeopardize his relationships.

He eventually accepts what happens but is steadfast that HIM doing so is fine. He won't excuse that behavior for anyone else regardless of the circumstances

After acknowledging the kill, he creates a self-fulfilling prophecy with his belief that even one death will cause him to spiral into madness and mass murder. There would be many clues that he could stop from becoming a monster, but he simply doesn't due to his ideas that one death is too far

The last one could bring lots of angst, especially for the person that forced Bruce to acknowledge the evidence and his kill :)

Maybe the fic can even force Alfred to be the one to put Bruce down for good :)

There are also fics that consider what Bruce's reactions and what the rest of the batfam would do if someone who's sworn off killing ends up killing someone (particularly on accident or in self-defense). There's either good dad Bruce who apologizes for ever giving the impression that killing in self-defense is wrong (when there's no other choice) or bad dad Bruce who goes nuclear.

This has absolutely nothing to do with Bruce killing someone, but this is a rant about Bruce's moral code:

For once, I'd kill for an ACAB Batman because cops kill, and that goes against his moral code. A simple math of murder = wrong, so therefore cops (who don't swear off ever killing again) are an entire group he's against the same as he's against gangs.

He's criticized the batfam, some JL members, anti-heroes, villains, etc. for their choices regarding murdering for justice. Are there any fics or instances in canon where he basically says "fuck the police" because they do kill? Not him stating that GCPD is corrupt, but him fully disparaging the entire profession/institution due to the allowance it gives in murdering. He could go on one of his rants about judge, jury, and executioner. He could chat about power dynamics, morals, police training, checks and balances, insufficient evidence gathering before execution, innocents killed, etc.

Where the fuck is ACAB Bruce? Give me reluctantly working with Jim despite his hatred of cops. Give me him stating he likes Jim as a person and his notion of changing shit from the inside, but Bruce (as someone who is legit working outside the law and policies in place) doesn't think it's possible to change enough. Give me Bruce debating whether his role of working with the legal system is doing harm.

If Bruce has black and white perspectives on murder, let him have it about everything.

[gemmahale]

So I've temporarily paused my queue. It's just me, shouting into the void again. (The queue will maybe come back - there's some 800 some odd posts in there.) Just as an FYI.

I've been stuck in my head since...my work trip last weekend? Which, tbf, 12 hours of windshield time and a day of interacting with people is a fair bit.

(I'm cutting this because y'all don't need my yapping, but I need it off my chest. Go get some water or a beverage of choice instead.)

TW: mental health discussion. I am safe, I am not going to do anything brash.

But Monday I came back to an email from my boss - apparently two clients had stopped in to speak with him because I hadn't answered their calls (all are within the last two-ish weeks, maybe more?).

A huge part of my job is that timely client call-back. And one place that I consistently struggle in. We've had this discussion going on for 6+ mo now on how critical this call-back part is. The whole thing of what we do is timely, scientifically backed information.

I'm shit at calling back. I hate doing it. I hate troubleshooting people's plant problems. It just seems so...inconsequential. People are stressing about a dead spot in their yard (that's probably over watered and over fertilized and a sterile environment) and it's just...get some perspective, y'know?

I don't know. I love this job. I love the impact I could have. Get me talking about how people deserve healthy ecosystems and food access and such and I'm going a mile a minute.

But I'm paralyzed when it comes to solving these stupid "inconsequential" problems.

I have a newsletter I've been talking about sending out since FEBURARY. It's now AUGUST. It's unsent. I just hit a wall every time I sit down to set it up.

Same thing with the volunteer program I manage. The workshops I'm working on. All of it. Wall against wall against wall and I'm scrolling tumblr for the 43rd time that day.

And I don't know what to do. I'm scared. That's what it is. I'm Scared I'll give bad information and something will get killed and it'll be my fault.

(yes that's capital S scared.)

I don't know what I'm going to say tomorrow in our meeting. I know I'm on thin ice. I'm going into my 3rd year of this. I shouldn't be struggling like this. My RSD is so fuckin' bad that it's locking me up and shutting me down.

Part of me wants to be fired. Just "this isn't a good fit" and out the door. Proof that I'm not cut out for this job. Because all I have succeeded in doing is failing my colleagues, my peers and the clientele that I interact with.

I'm self-sabotaging myself and I don't know how to not to.

I love the opportunities this job has. But I'm terrified of failure to the point of breakdown. Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that, right?

It's imposter syndrome, self-sabotage, other terms I've forgotten. having a name for it doesn't help any - just reinforces that I'm doing it to myself. And that's what hurts the most.

I haven't told anyone I'm struggling. It's hard to reach out. Kallen's been dealing with nightmares and job bullshit and high pain days (and his listening is problem solving/therapist-ing, which isn't what I want or need). My friends are all bogged down with their lives - unemployment, moving, divorces, childcare, and I'm not going to burden them with this gunk.

The irony to this is that I just told a friend to lean on me - because that's what friends do when they're in tight spots. Lean on each other, support each other.

But really it just means: Justify that I'm worth being here/being friends with me by making me useful to you.

God I wish I didn't have all this brain goop. I wish I could just scoop it out and poke at it under a microscope and dissect what happened to make me like this.

Gemma find a therapist. <- Whole different conversation. There's a dearth of mental health providers out here. I quit looking in 2021 when I called 5 places and they all said they were not taking on more clients and the one I tried we didn't vibe with each other. Fuck being a (mostly closeted) queer woman in small-town America.