#like. I’m not sure what standards my parents were trying to get me to adhere to because a lot of times when I thought I was doing well

[dykeredhood]

I was idly playing with the ends of my hair this evening and remembered the one and a half times I had done that in front of my parents when I was younger and how I had ended up getting yelled at (or at least harangued for fidgeting or) doing something so innocuous

It was electric, once I recalled that, I enjoyed* a flood of emotions and immediately put my hands back down at my sides

[theclockworkmonk]

Out of the Mouths of Babes — Chapter 4

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Chapter 1 on Tumblr

Chapter 2 on Tumblr

Chapter 3 on Tumblr

Written for Hinny Ficfest 2021

Prompt: “Uncle Ron said something about Harry knocking Ginny up, but I don’t know what he means,” Teddy said.

*******

Ginny had disappeared, dragged through the kitchen door, before Harry could come up with an excuse to keep her by his side. He sighed and took a long gulp from his glass of firewhiskey, welcoming the burning sensation down his throat. Whatever his family was so wound up about, Harry knew he wasn't in danger here, so he hoped the drink would dull his overactive auror instincts so he could enjoy the evening.

"So...how's the shop?" asked Harry, choosing to focus on George, "any accidental new body parts I can't see?"

"Harry, I'll have you know that we ascribe to only the highest of safety standards at Weasley Wizard Wheezes," said George with his nose in the air, "We strictly adhere to a dual-fault system to make sure a trained wizard is on-site to intervene in case of emergency."

"By that he means that he doesn't try any weird shit on himself without me there to rush him to St. Mungo's," said Ron with his mouth full, wincing as his mother smacked him in the back of the head with a wooden spoon for his language.

Harry's eyes narrowed at his best friend. "So you two are already partners now? Really wasting no time on bailing on me, aren't you?"

"Don't be a prat!" grumbled Ron. "No, like I said, it was just a thought that I had. You know, the kind of thought you would hope you could share with your best mate without him jumping down your throat?"

"Well I think it's a marvelous idea," Mrs. Weasley announced loudly from her place at the stove."

George's eyebrows shot up. "Who are you and what have you done with my mother? You're glad that another one of your sons is considering wasting his life at this silly business, instead of a respectable job at the Ministry?"

"Well, if said Ministry job involves chasing after Death Eaters every day," huffed Mrs. Weasley, "Then I suppose my nerves will take any alternative."

She sent a stern look towards Harry and pointed a threatening spoon at him, making him jump back. "You could do well to learn from Ron in that regard, Harry."

Ron was grinning ear to ear, bouncing in his seat from being the favorite child of the moment.

"There's nothing wrong with Ron doing the responsible thing." she lowered her voice to a grumble so Harry barely heard, "at least someone is."

Harry surveyed the tense atmosphere in the room again.

"Okay, what's got everyone in such a mood?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"No one's in a mood!" said Mrs. Weasley quickly.

"Harry," Mr. Weasley spoke up for the first time, and his voice too was less assuring than Harry usually found it. "I'm having trouble with a fascinating new muggle device I've discovered, would you mind giving me a hand out in the shed?"

"Oh. Sure," said Harry easily. Mr. Weasley got up from the table and led Harry outside. They entered the man's infamous tool shed, and Harry noticed new mechanical and electronic devices in various states of disassembly. Mr. Weasley gestured to his work table, where a VCR sat.

"I've heard that muggles use this to see recorded images, like a pensieve, but I've put in those black blocks, and nothing happens."

"Oh, well," said Harry, trying not to laugh, "You need to attach it to a television. It can't just work on its—"

He was interrupted by the door opening again, and Harry was surprised to see Mrs. Weasley entering the shed which he always knew her to avoid, wanting nothing to do with her husband's "nonsense" tinkering.

"Molly, what are you doing here?" Mr. Weasley asked crossly, "We agreed we wouldn't. The boys—"

"I told them I was getting apples from the orchard," his wife said dismissively. She crossed the shed and looked beseechingly at a very surprised Harry.

"Harry, dear, you know how we think of you as a part of this family. We've been wanting to say….we hope that you don't think that has changed because of you and Ginny's relationship. We know young men have trepidation about 'the girlfriend's parents,' but you're not just our daughter's boyfriend to us, you're one of our own."

Harry was as touched as he was confused. "Th-Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," he said softly. "I can't tell you how much that means to me."

"And one reason we had no objection to you and Ginny dating," Mr. Weasley continued, "is that we trust you to always do right by Ginny. To always do what's best for her."

Harry looked back and forth between them, their expressions pointed and expecting.

"Well — ehem — I'll remember that. I promise to never do anything to hurt her." He meant it.

There was another moment of silence before Mrs. Weasley spoke up again.

"Sooooo…." she prompted. "We just want you to be aware that….should you decide to propose…you wouldn't have to worry—"

"What!?" Harry's heart leapt into his throat and he knew his face had turned scarlet. "Oh, no no," he said, putting his hands up. "I'm glad to have your blessing, but we're not ready to think about that yet."

Harry rubbed his neck nervously. It was only a half-lie. In truth, Harry was ready to think about that. He thought about proposing to Ginny damn near every day, in fact. But he was fairly certain that Ginny was still years away from being ready. She was fiercely proud of her independence and she was still dealing with the papers referring to her as "Harry Potter's girlfriend" before "star Harpies Chaser," even without marriage.

Mr. Weasley sighed in what seemed like disappointment and Mrs. Weasley's mouth thinned and her expression turned sour.

"Well...the roast should be done, we should all head back inside."

The Weasleys led the way out of the shed and Harry cautiously followed them. When they arrived back in the kitchen, Harry saw Bill shoot his father a stern, questioning look, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Mr. Weasley shake his head grimly, and Bill and Charlie gave Harry a glare that would make Mad-Eye Moody quake in his boots.

Harry froze and all the breath left his body. It suddenly all made sense. He was the thing that the Weasleys were so on edge about. Ginny's parents inquiring about him marrying her.

They had somehow found out that he and Ginny were living together.

Harry suddenly felt like a sheep in a cage with several wolves.

"Hey mum," said Charlie, "while you were outside, Aunt Muriel floo-called and said that the gnomes are in her attic again. Apparently she's upset at the way dad tried to take care of it last time."

"Is she sure it's actually the gnomes, or is it the doxies nesting in her hair?" Mr. Weasley grumbled as his wife shooed him into their sitting room and through their fireplace. Harry's heart was thudding in his chest as the few Weasleys he could count on to not murder him due to this secret getting out abandoned him with the curse breaker, dragon tamer, master prankster, and Ministry power-broker.

Several murderous eyes turned towards Harry.

"Look...er…" Harry stammered. "I really thought that, after everything, we had all moved past the whole 'overprotective big brothers' routine."

"Yeah, we thought we had too," said Charlie darkly, "but mum and dad's diplomatic approach clearly didn't work, so the gloves are off. I guess we never figured that the savior of the bloody wizarding world would do this to our sister."

George snorted, still finding this whole thing quite amusing. "Sorry, do this to her? Harry's the real victim here. Ginny's a nightmare already, can you imagine what living with her will be like now?"

"What the hell are you lot talking about?" Ron cut in, looking around the room in confusion.

"I think your brothers have become aware of me and Ginny's...status change," said Harry.

"Oh, that is just so typical!" huffed Hermione, crossing her arms and adopting her lecturing pose. "Ginny is perfectly capable of handling her own life and she doesn't need a bunch of chest-beating men to defend an outdated notion of her 'honour!' I still can't believe how sexist magical society can be sometimes."

"Yes, Hermione, our world is sexist, whether we like it or not" said Bill, not backing down. "You can pontificate all you want about how it's not right, or a double standard, but once the public finds out about this — and sooner or later, they will," he shot another glare at Harry, as if he wrote to the papers about it himself, "then it will change how people see her. And since she's a Quidditch star, the way people see her matters."

"Yup, can see the headlines now," George sighed dramatically, "the ambitious social climber Ginevra Weasley, raised in a pauper's home, so she used her feminine wiles to land herself this sweet gig."

"Look, ultimately, it's none of our business — no, I'm serious!" Ron finished in response to his brothers' looks of betrayal. "Look, Bill, Charlie, you two were only around when Ginny was a little girl. You didn't go to school with her. You never saw first-hand what happens when you try to meddle in her life to defend her virtue, trust me." He shivered a bit, as he remembered the traumatic memory.

"I don't even understand why we have to meddle," said Percy, "I just don't understand your logic, Harry. There's no question you would be willing to throw yourself into mortal danger all over again to protect Ginny. What you're hesitating to do is comparatively easy."

"His reasons don't matter, he should have thought of that earlier," said Charlie, pointing a threatening finger at Harry. "I don't care if this makes me a hypocrite, but you're going to do the right thing and—"

Ginny suddenly burst into the room, causing every word to fall silent. Harry knew that Ginny always hated it when people were obviously talking about her, but as he started towards her, he was surprised when he saw that her eyes were watery with tears. Ignoring all of the eyes on her, she ran straight towards Hermione, throwing her arms around her friend.

"Erm, is something wrong?" asked Hermione. She threw a questioning look to Fleur as she followed Ginny into the kitchen, but the young mother looked just as confused as anyone as she took Victoire back from Bill.

Instead of answering Hermione's question, Ginny withdrew from the hug and smacked Ron upside the head.

"Ah! What the shit!" Ron cried, rubbing the back of his head.

"Ronald, language!" scolded Mrs. Weasley, re-entering the kitchen along with her husband, making the room quite crowded.

"That's your main concern?" asked Ron, "Not the unwarranted physical assault?"

"It's not unwarranted, it's for being a stupid, forgetful git!" barked Ginny

She walked up to Harry and took his glass of firewhiskey, still mostly intact.

"I need this more than you," she informed him, and began to raise the glass to her lips.

"GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY!"

Mrs. Weasley's ear-piercing shriek caused everyone in the room to wince, and Ginny momentarily jumped behind Harry for protection. "Merlin's balls, WHAT!?"

"Molly…" Mr. Weasley cautioned.

"DO NOT 'MOLLY' ME, ARTHUR!" his wife shouted back. She had a crazed look in her eye and she was pulling at her hair. She rounded on Harry and Ginny.

"We have tried to be respectful, but you two are clearly not ready for this kind of responsibility! I am so disappointed in you both for not taking this more seriously! You haven't even given a thought to how this will affect your careers!"

"Our careers?" asked Harry, confused. "How would that possibly—"

Suddenly, everything clicked into place. He had gotten it completely wrong about what the Weasleys were talking about. The talk about responsibility, their careers, affects to Ginny's public image.

Somehow, the family had gotten word about the "honour" bestowed upon Harry by the Wizengamot, and all the implications that had for his and Ginny's future together. He supposed it wasn't too surprising that Arthur or Percy had heard about it through their Ministry connections.

He looked sideways at Ginny, and from one look he knew that she had come to the same realization. Both their faces split into wide grins as relief flooded through them that all of this drama was over something so silly. Apparently, the family somehow had the absurd idea that Harry would keep the title and actually take the status, power, and responsibilities being offered to him.

Harry and Ginny cracked up into delirious laughter, leaning on each other for support, which did nothing to help the livid look on Mrs. Weasley's face.

"Oh Merlin's beard, is that what has you all concerned? Don't worry about that," laughed Harry, waving one hand dismissively and wrapping the other around Ginny's shoulder.

"I mean, come on, we're obviously not keeping it!"

There was a moment of silence, then the entire kitchen exploded.

[entropictome]

Holiday Hot Pot

S:Final Fantasy XIV No plot or purpose. Just one man, his friends, family, his overwhelming grief and their very late Starlight. [mentioned non-WoL OCxThancred] 5754 words [ More FFXIV Content ]

“You look like shit.”

Moth’ir was missing his characteristic shades so all four occupants could clearly see the viera’s tactless comment send his eyes rolling. Five if the infant in his arms wasn’t soundly asleep. His comeback was snappy as always. “Thanks, kid. Thought I’d take a page from your book for a change.”

The Burn’s reaction was immediate. His rage coiled in his arms as he quickly changed stance. Ever one to turn to violence before reason. His voice rose as he started “,Why are you always-”

The rest was swallowed by a mitten plopped against his mouth. His smaller─but no less dangerous─companion shot him a long suffering look. Keeping The Burn’s temper under control was like trying to keep a lit match from igniting firedamp in a coal mine. Most folks had no hope but to abandon the mission to begin with. Ibuki was the sole exception. Though she could give him a good and proper dressing-down, it didn’t take much besides a sigh and disappointed look to upend his rampage before it started.

The anger didn’t go away, it just receded, but it allowed the pale and dark scaled auri to turn their attention back to their long missing friend. The three gathered around him with varying levels of interest. Leaving Havhen to flail helplessly as their presence was quickly forgotten in that of Moth’ir’s. Whom was obviously the more respected between the two when it came to their present company.

“You’ve been gone for months without word! We were really worried!” Ibuki stated, nearly whining with the intensity of her sincerity.

“We would have come sooner but there were a lot of things to take care of,” the Xaela man spoke apologetically. “There were so many festivals and trying to keep the bar staffed with so many people wanting days off and of course the Basement-”

Ibuki elbowed her much taller compatriot and cut his further worrying off by enthusing “,but Bukidai has dealt with all of it marvelously well so you don’t need to worry.”

“Oh?” Moth’ir looked at the Xaela with an appraising look. Though, paired with an easy grin, it was unlikely he was being serious. “Food baskets?”

“All delivered as of yesterday,” Bukidai, who was serious, assured him. “Thanks to our volunteers.”

“Volunteers is it? Did Mr. Auberdine show up?” Moth’ir asked and chuckled lightly when he saw Bukidai’s surprise.

“Ah, yes. Though we had to ask him to leave-”

“Because he was trying to convince everyone that volunteers deserved two baskets for their trouble.” Moth’ir interrupted, leaving Bukidai startled once again. “Did that every year. A few others too. Reason why I started delivering them my own damn self if I’m honest.”

“Every year?” Bukidai’s horror was indication enough that Mr. Auberdine had thrown one of his characteristic fits before he allowed himself to be let go.

“Grew up as a wealthy merchant’s son and then his family landed themselves in dire straights with bad investments,” Moth’ir shrugged. He was sympathetic but the sympathy was for Booker, not the man. “He’s remarkably less worse than he was but he’s never quite gotten over the idea he deserves more than everyone else.”

Bukidai sighed and shook his head. “Regardless, I think we can make do with our other volunteers if they want to pitch in again.”

“If you say so,” Moth’ir said dubiously. Bukidai held unto hope for dear life but Moth’ir had been divested of that a long long time ago. “Take care with old U’leh. Greying Miqo’te lady, very unassuming. She likes to troll through some of the donated items in Spring and Autumn for cakes to raffle off at her little charity parties.”

“She raffles off donated cakes?” Bukidai was aghast then pulled himself off the topic for another. “Spring is an awful long time away. Aren’t you coming back?”

“If you need to break out, we’ve got you,” Ibuki rose her sweater’s sleeve so she might flex her otherwise deceptively pudgy arm. Havhen─who had been watching their interaction with keen interest and was not familiar with Ibuki’s playful personality─shot Moth’ir an alarmed look over her shoulder.

“Contrary to whatever belief you might have, I am here of my own free will,” Moth’ir stated firm enough that they knew he meant it. He had certainly come of his own accord anyway. Staying was less than thrilling since he didn’t much care for the sole physician in this strange hospital. Divulging why was far more personal than he was comfortable sharing but he did add a “More or less.”

“More or less?” The Burn attention had been momentarily bought by the possibility of fighting.

Moth’ir gave him a stern look “,I’m staying.”

It was the right thing to do. More than that, it was where Thancred had left him. Left them. The four of them descended into an awkward silence. None of whom seemed particularly thrilled with the prospect.

Ibuki, hopping from one foot to the next, tried her best to break the quiet. “Is the baby yours? Bukidai said you left because you were feeling sick and had suspected but we didn’t know for sure.”

“Ibuki!” Bukidai chastised her.

Moth’ir gave him a solid kick to the shin. Which might have actually hurt had he been wearing anything but his slippers. He gasped and proclaimed with played up scandalization “What a gossip!”

Havhen was likely the only one of them who noticed the slight hissing. Something which indicated an actual irritation from Moth’ir he hid by dramatizing it.

“Is it a boy or girl?” Ibuki asked before throwing her arms up and blithely gesturing “,you know, for now.”

It was a joke that three of them understood better than the other two. Though she wasn’t aware of Havhen’s case. She had quite nearly forgotten they were there at all. Which was more or less in their favor as they were busy taking mental notes. Specifically on Moth’ir’s face after Ibuki asked her question. Moth’ir had settled into fatherhood like a round peg in a square hole. He’d fallen in but the corners weren’t right. Fairly typical of new parents but he’d taken his ineptitude as immediate failure and the guilt had landed him here in Havhen’s care. He’d only just been able to acknowledge his daughter directly at all.

Moth’ir visibly braced himself before muttering “,it’s uh... she.”

“She’s so cute! Can I hold her?” Ibuki thrust her arms out exuberantly. Either not noticing the stumble or too polite to point it out. Moth’ir handed her over mayhaps a bit too eagerly but the fact he’d been carrying her without needing to was progress. Havhen made a note of it.

Holding a baby was something Ibuki had enough experience in that she hadn’t needed coaching. Utterly doting, she looked fairly natural cooing down at the fussy bundle who had begun to stir due to the commotion and movement. Moth’ir struggled not to look miserable watching the pair, ears flattened against his head. Grief that went unnoticed now that all attention was on the baby.

“What’s her name?” Bukidai asked pleasantly.

“Doesn’t have one.” Moth’ir said flatly. Bukidai looked to him with confusion but Moth’ir waved him off and continued. “Her dad thought I should name her but I’ve been preoccupied and just... haven’t.”

Havhen distinctly remembered the white haired hyur had mentioned he’d wanted Moth’ir to name her because it might help them bond. And something about having already named two girls but that hadn’t been meant for Havhen’s ears. The concern of Moth’ir’s friends weren’t at all alleviated by the explanation but Bukidai had enough sense to recognize Moth’ir’s agitation. He simply nodded and smiled, if a bit awkwardly. “I’m sure it will come to you soon.”

Moth’ir brushed him off, glanced over at the window and the dwindling light outside. Whatever he’d wanted to see there caused him to sigh. He postulated “,You three didn’t really have a plan once you got here, did you?”

Said three exchanged glances that said they hadn’t and then all four heads turned to Havhen. The physician shook their head and crossed their arms in front of them. “Absolutely, not! This is a mental care facility! Not an inn!”

“It’s not like you’ve got any other patients and there’s not exactly a line waiting,” Moth’ir stated sternly.

“Nevertheless there are professional standards I have to adhere to,” Haven pushed back with just as much authority.

“It’s a madhouse,” Moth’ir exclaimed incredulously “,You’re already a joke and a half!”

“Not a madhouse!” Haven corrected him with a great deal of passion. “Those facilities garner their reputation by focusing on containment and are as like to cause as much─if not more─damage to their patients had they just left them alone. This facility is for study and treatment with the intent of rehabilitation.”

Havhen was a generally genial person but this was a subject they were particularly staunch on. Moth’ir, on the other hand, was just normally stubborn and exceedingly opinionated. Where the standoff would go was any one’s guess but it wasn’t likely to be clean. With that in mind, Ibuki interjected “,that’s actually quite fascinating! I’d love to get an interview with you on the subject for an article. Mor Dhona isn’t that far from Ul’dah, I’m sure some of my readers would love to know more.”

“You’re a reporter?” Havhen asked, scrutinizing the pastel garbed auri woman closer.  “Publicity would be nice but your ilk are so fond of twisting things on their head for greater attention.”

“Well, you’re in luck because miss Bunji is far more partial toward fluff pieces,” Bukidai noted with a fair bit of amusement.

“Oh! I’m so tired of writing hard hitting news! Everyone is so wary of talking to me now but I don’t mean to find bad things! I’m just very good at tripping into them,” her sudden outburst sounded surprisingly sincere considering it’s absurdity. It had also upset the baby who she quickly went about soothing. “Oh! I’m so sorry, dear thing. It’s okay! Nothing’s wrong! You’re not running a money laundering business out of here are you?”

The last question was aimed at Havhen who simply held their hands up defensively. “If I was I wouldn’t be struggling to make rent.”

“You’d be surprised,” Ibuki sighed as she gently rocked the baby back to complacency.

Havhen considered the three newcomers and nodded approvingly. “Alright. You can stay for a short while.”

There was a short lived celebratory movement before Havhen added: “Under the condition you do chores around the building and submit yourselves for an interview of my own.”

Moth’ir balked. “Nevermind, everyone can go sleep outside.”

Havhen crossed his arms and said firmly “,if she’s going to write about my organization she might as well get the best understanding of what I’m trying to do.”

“I think we can handle some housework and questions,” Bukidai offered, trying to hearten Moth’ir whose grimace only deepened in return.

Moth’ir threw his hands up and shook his head but went to his next order of business “,Regardless, your kitchen stock is atrocious. Scribbles, go out and see what food stuffs you can pick up for tonight. It’s Starlight and almost sundown so don’t expect a lot.”

“You can count on me!” Ibuki chirped despite his sentiment and snapped off a salute unfamiliar to Havhen.

“You,” he pointed at The Burn “,there’s some weird creatures out of town. Ask around the adventurers, see what all is edible and how, kill it and bring the proper bits back.”

The Burn grinned and smacked his fists together. “I can do that.”

“As long as you can ask politely and don’t pick a fight,” Ibuki said to him as more of a warning than anything else.

“You’re with me in the kitchen,” Moth’ir nodded toward Bukidai “,let’s prep and you can see if you have any more ideas about what we have on hand than I.”

“And me?” Havhen pointed at themself.

“You’re on baby duty.” Moth’ir gestured dramatically toward his daughter, still in Ibuki’s arms who passed her off to them.

“Alright kids, we have a short amount of time and very little to work with. Let’s move,” Moth’ir gestured and his people went to do as they were asked.

Havhen and the child watched them all scatter. Before today Moth’ir had been antagonistic and withdrawn around them. This commanding man and the willingness of his peers to follow his direction was bemusing. Both attitudes were entirely alien from the way he had been with his beau. At least when he didn’t think Havhen was looking. Assuming different personae to suit different groups was normal enough but, when all was said and done, some of Moth’ir’s faces would likely have to die to save the host.

“It should be an interesting night for us, I think.” They cooed gently to the nameless girl.

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

Havhen had hoped they might be able to observe something that would give them clarity on Moth’ir in the process of the night. What they happened to see was utter chaos. Babies need care and Moth’ir’s child was particularly fussy without any seeming need to be. A fact even her wet nurse had noted. Then there was the utter mess that Moth’ir and Bukidai were making in their kitchen. Which was adequate enough by Havhen’s standards but not theirs.

The Burn returned first. A bit bloodied for his trouble. He’d gotten a handful of strange looking material he all swore was good for eating in a variety of ways. Havhen had some doubts but Moth’ir took him at his word.

“Who did you piss off?” Moth’ir asked passively after getting a proper look at the viera’s nose.

“Some weird frogs, some newts, wriggly things, you know,” The Burn gestured toward his assorted meats as if the question in itself was inane.

“I said: who,” Moth’ir reiterated, pointedly.

The Burn crossed his arms and stood defiantly. Which unraveled under Moth’ir’s steely gaze and he finally yelled “,it was some roegadyn, okay? Didn’t like the way I asked and wouldn’t listen so he started punching. He was asking for it.”

Moth’ir shrugged and shook his head. He wasn’t exactly pleased but the disappointment didn’t stick. He said to The Burn “,Thanks for the bits, kid. Since you’re here, try and keep that one out of our hair.”

Moth’ir gestured toward Havhen, saying to them: “And you? Good luck.”

It was a particularly perplexing series of statements that cleared itself up over the course of a brief conversation. Havhen came to the conclusion that The Burn would make a good case study if he’d allow it. Alas, it was unlikely that The Burn would avail himself to their care so Havhen was forced to deal with him on a social level. Which was an exceedingly unpleasant task. He was combative, sullen, and downright rude without any self awareness. A hungry malboro would have made better company.

Luckily, Ibuki returned not too long after. If her strength had been in question, it was not now as she managed to juggle a notable number of boxes. Of which she was more hampered by the awkwardice of their distribution than their weight.

“What did you do? Buy the whole market?” Bukidai exclaimed as he started offloading her parcels.

“There’s a lot more in the market than food, you know,” Ibuki retorted. “I just got things that they said were edible and looked good.”

“Is that a whole dodo?” Moth’ir asked as he eyeballed what she’d brought in.

“Yup! The man said I could have it cheap because it’s Starlight,” she said as she divested herself of her last package. Arms free, Ibuki turned to Havhen and stretched them out to them “,let me see the baby!”

They could hardly deny her after she asked so passionately.

“More likely that the seller misjudged his buyer’s needs and wanted to offload it quickly,” Moth’ir commented looking the bird over. He’d found little wrong with it all the same.

“Oh! Oh!” She hopped back around to face him after having secured the baby in her arms “,I was thinking maybe a hot pot would be good?” Ibuki’s suggestion sounded more like the favorite child pleading a favor of an otherwise stern parent. 

“I think I saw a burner for one,” Bukidai added with a questioning note. Indirectly asking why Havhen would have one to begin with.

“I’m quite particular towards hot pot dishes, myself,” Havhen explained “,I should have noodles too.”

Ibuki looked enthused for all of a second before she schooled herself back and asked “,like, spaghetti?”

Havhen gave her a sympathetic look and patted her and the shoulder “,I’m not sure I’ve had pasta in a hot pot. Personally, I’m preferential toward glass noodles but I have udon too.”

This suitably reignited Ibuki’s excitement. She nearly launched herself at Havhen, might have had it not been for the babe, asking “,you have a lot of stuff from Othard here, actually. Have you gone to Kugane?”

Havhen suspected the woman might be a tad homesick but unfortunately had to shake their head. “Not myself. The matrons of my clan told me stories of Yanxia from when we’d travel before the Garlean occupation. I believe it’s a short boat ride between?”

Moth’ir audibly hissed. A thing so uncharacteristic that it completely silenced the room a second and then was immediately moved on from. Moth’ir’s friends assuming it had been unintentional; like a sneeze. They hadn’t been told that Havhen had just happened to be Moth’ir’s long lost sibling. That their clan had once been his. At least, before they’d left him to die as a small child. But Havhen did.

They gave him an apologetic look. Divulging details about their clan hadn’t been their intent. It was an act which Moth’ir had very clearly expressed wanting nothing to do with. Their conciliation did little to quell the absolute rage that Moth’ir was having trouble keeping from his face. Cooking did though.

Havhen and Ibuki settled into chatting idly about Othard while the babe slept in her arms. The Burn─whose chaotic nature had been hard contained just moments before─sat calmly watching Ibuki. A man who was seeing his girlfriend in a domestic light for the first time and wasn’t sure what to think. Havhen rather thought he looked awed. The dining table they sat at and the kitchen were hardly separated. Only a partition that covered perhaps half the room from view. With The Burn preoccupied, he could hardly stop Havhen from observing Moth’ir.

Havhen had thought Bukidai might be in charge of the hot pot, seeing a Xaela would surely know more of the concept than a Eorzean born miqo’te. He was no doubt talented but it was to Moth’ir’s beck and call that he scurried. Ibuki mentioned to them that the pair had come to Kugane some time ago and that’s when Moth’ir had picked up some new techniques. Havhen was fairly impressed that anyone could simply “pick up” traditional methods from one trip but there was a great deal they did not know about Moth’ir.

Ibuki and his hyur “friend” had both spoken about Moth’ir’s prowess as a craftsman. The man had asked him to make a dress for their child and what he produced was of a higher quality than Havhen had expected. The act of putting the dress on the baby had helped Moth’ir acknowledge her and he’d since made several articles of it’s ilk. They had encouraged it because it seemed to be a source of catharsis for him. In the kitchen, Moth’ir seemed just as at home as he did with a sewing needle. Though these two fields were not the limits of his capabilities, Ibuki confirmed they were two specialties of his many interests.

He also seemed to be cooking more or less as a stress relief at the moment. As evidenced by the increasing number of plates Bukidai was producing.

“This is actually pretty early for us.”

It was a lovely little spread. Maybe more geared toward ten people than five. Ibuki had gotten her hot pot. Her eyes glittered despite the fact some of the ingredients used were… questionable in texture. It did look appetizing despite knowing where some of it had come from.

“Do you usually make so much food too?” Havhen eyed the spread and glanced to Bukidai.

“Uh…” Bukidai sheepishly responded, rubbing the back of his neck and then taking a moment to remove his neck tie as he’d suddenly become cognizant of it. “Yes and no? Traditionally, we cook a lot more but we also share with the neighborhood.”

“They do that at the end of every moon but Starlight is supposed to be special,” The Burn noted dully.

“Must be profitable in Ul’dah,” Havhen suggested without having any real clue.

“Oh, it’s all free though.” Ibuki commented cheerily.

“Who knew you were such a philanthropist?” Havhen remarked, turning around only to find Moth’ir missing. They stepped into the kitchen and found him sitting behind the partition. His head between his knees and both hands resting on the back of his neck.

“Gimme a moment.” He’d murmured, completely devoid of any venom he’d usually summon. He could only turn with a facsimile of it when Havhen sat beside him but the comment he’d expected to have to beat off never came. They simply sat there quietly.

Bukidai pretended to busy himself with the spread once again. Shooing Moth’ir’s clockwork toy off the table. He remarked “,that thing has a mind of it’s own.” A statement that started Ibuki and The Burn on a discussion on whether it had been set to follow the babe─since it was never far away from her─or if it was actually possessed. For that matter, where was the other one? None of the three had seen that one in a while. They only made indirect mentions of the man whose countenance both automatons shared. Neither Ibuki or The Burn knew what his relation was to Moth’ir though they’d seen him from time to time. Only Bukidai had any clue.

Bukidai who much preferred this to impeding on Moth’ir’s privacy any more than he already had.

They sat like that for a long time. The three younger ones chatting amicably amongst themselves while the miqo’te siblings sat out of view. After a bit, Moth’ir had gathered himself enough to pull himself to a more relaxed position. Havhen gave him a moment before risking a quiet remark “,they sound like family.”

Moth’ir only hmm’d at first. When he managed to speak, his voice was quiet too but the lack of force was from the palpable exhaustion that colored the tone. The kind of exhaustion unrelated to sleep. He replied “,Maybe they are. Ul’dah is a long way from the Steppes, Hingashi and wherever the hell The Burn fell out of.”

“Ul’dah is a long way from the Twelveswood too,” Havhen said gently as they could “,but you seem keener to keep your distance.”

“So many questions,” Moth’ir spat but even this indignation lacked fire.

“When one cannot find answers they are often left with nothing but questions,” Havhen replied pleasantly enough. It still pissed Moth’ir off.

The Burn was yelling about something but Ibuki and Bukidai were laughing. At his worst there was a request he calm down because he was disturbing the baby. Words which were also choked with laughter.

Moth’ir let them hang there. Content to sit and listen and not at all up to acknowledging what was a valid statement. He was supposed to be getting better after all but sometimes Havhen and their questions made him want to disappear into the swamp.

“If you don’t celebrate on Starlight, what do you do?” Havhen asked him, trying another angle.

Moth’ir sighed with his whole body. He tried to say “stuff” but all he managed was a weak roll of his wrist.

“You and your man must have some traditions?” Havhen offered.

Moth’ir snorted. The idea of Thancred being any one person’s was cute to him. Even after the hyur had confessed all those things to him before he’d left. Before Moth’ir had had the ability to say it back. Words that he so desperately wanted to say back. They pooled in the back of his throat and begged to be released so Moth’ir did something uncharacteristic of him and spoke about him. If just to speak of him at all. “Thancred’s not usually home when the holidays come around. ‘Specially not these last couple years but when he is it’s just a drink and then sleeping in.”

“Festive,” Havhen said with a chuckle.

Admittedly it didn’t sound like much but it had meaning for him. Maybe Thancred too. A tradition started nearly a decade ago. A rare occasion when Thancred hadn’t had any luck with any fair maiden despite his “silver tongue.” Too inebriated to make it to his lodgings but just sober enough to crash against the backdoor of Moth’ir’s home and workplace. Thancred almost looked dignified sitting there, looking like a misplaced gift from Nymeia’s Saint after Moth’ir’s very long and miserable day.

Thancred somehow talked him into one single drink for the occasion despite Moth’ir’s distaste for alcohol. So they might be on equal footing or some line of the sort. Though Moth’ir wasn’t anywhere near as intoxicated by the time he’d managed to dump Thancred in his bed. Then they’d passed out in a sleep near as deep as death itself. An act remarkable for the both of them.

All their important moments seemed to be in that bed. Very few─if any─had a thing to do with Thancred’s typical salacious activities. It was another sort of intimacy only available to them in the privacy and relative safety of Moth’ir’s room. Honestly and vulnerability that they’d not allowed themselves anywhere else. And yet...

“I didn’t realize you lived together.”

Moth’ir rolled a hand dismissively again. “Some of his stuff is at my place but I don’t think he lives anywhere anymore.”

“Too busy doing what he does.” Havhen said with some meaning. Near everyone who paid attention to the daily happenings around them had some conception of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn even if they didn’t know each member. Savior’s of the realm and at their center the indomitable Warriors of Light.

But Thancred was quite faliable. It was one of his charms.

“I don’t want to go back.” Moth’ir said so quietly Havhen almost didn’t hear him.

Havhen lightly bumped his shoulder against Moth’ir’s. “His life is largely here in Mor Dhona now, isn’t it?”

Moth’ir crossed his arms over his knees and pressed his eyes there to shut out the pressure from behind his eyes. He’d had some conception of Thancred’s work but it was something alien and distant. He imagined it was much the same for Thancred and Moth’ir’s work outside the Tavern. They’d known each other in a way that no one else did��that no one was supposed to─but they’d lived separate lives save where they let it intertwine. A special and private part of themselves tailor made for each other. It had worked. Might have continued to work but then Thancred had taken him from this hospital to the Rising Stones.

He’d met the women who’d given Thancred a shave and a haircut and found he’d liked them both despite that. Hadn’t recognized the man with the sun and stars before he spoke because he’d been missing the goggles and shroud he’d seen him in before. Lightly roasted Thancred with a Seeker woman with whom he shared new material to his friend’s chagrin. One of them would tell him if anything happened to Thancred while he was on the field. Thancred had assured him of such before he’d left.

And he’d liked that. He liked the idea that he’d be one of the first to know. He liked that Thancred had shown him context to the part of his life that had been a thin outline. But Moth’ir could never go back to waiting and wondering and subtext and half told stories they were too tired to finish telling because living it had been too much. He liked knowing and he liked being here and he knew he could never ever go back to that room. It’s privacy and false safety be damned.

He’d fooled himself into thinking he’d feel differently once he returned and started to go around the usual rounds but here he was. The same comedy routine fit like a glove but it was a glove that weighed as much as a buffalo and he was so tired. More than that: “They don’t need me,” Moth’ir said, choking back something that might have been a sob. Though he didn’t know why or what he was feeling exactly.

“It’s gonna get co~ld,” Ibuki’s voice came from beyond the partition.

Bukidai’s voice came after, raised suspiciously “,alright! alright! But make sure you don’t eat everything!” His added emphasis that the couple had had a habit of scarfing down an absurd amount of food returned to a normal pitch but the reaction to it was no less raucous.

Havhen shook their head in agreement and said “,Maybe once, but they do seem to have themselves covered now.”

“Wish I did,” Moth’ir breathed. Drawing himself up and closing his eyes, trying to center himself once more.

It was quiet between them again. The only sound coming from Ibuki singing over what was assumedly a well done meal. But Moth’ir broke the silence by turning to them and stating “,I never wanted children.”

Havhen cocked an eyebrow at him but let him continue on his own without prompting. So Moth’ir continued. “I did when I decided to keep her but I never wanted children. I don’t know how to do this and I don’t… how do we do this? I don’t know how to name kids.”

Havhen considered the distance Moth’ir had kept himself from his family and friends. They considered that he carried internalized feelings of guilt as if his abandonment was due to his own fault. The way he shied away from his daughter and the way he tormented himself for having done so. They wondered if “I never wanted” simply meant he hadn’t thought he should as if he was not worthy.

Moth’ir could simply have been asking for their opinion but the emphasis on “we” seemed like more. They did not know if he meant as keepers or as a clan. They weren’t sure if offering their typical naming conventions would be much use to him. Havhen offered a smile and said “,Oh, I’m not sure it’s all very complicated. You just pick something you think sounds nice or has meaning to you.”

Moth’ir sighed, clearly unsatisfied by that answer. Answers to a question that wasn’t the one he wanted to ask would never be sufficient.

“I think picking a name of someone important to you is suitable as well. As a tribute of sorts,” Havhen tried again despite the futility.

Moth’ir’s eyes stared upward as he considered various people whom he’d had some attachment to. It was an ordeal when one specifically kept people at arms length with few exceptions. “Can’t just name her Menphina, can I?”

“I mean,” Havhen shrugged and said flippantly “,your fellow Eorzeans might find that blasphemous but it’s your daughter.” They received a gentle elbow to the ribs for their trouble.

“Moth.”

“After your mother?” Havhen asked.

Moth’ir eyed him warily. Karga clan was very distinctly something that was his and his alone. It was never far from his mind that Havhen had only ever had their gods forsaken clan. He did not know what they saw when they thought of him and his siblings and his mother together. They all had meant the world and more to him and he misliked the idea of someone belittling that.

Havhen continued to smile at him warmly as he tried to assure him “,I think it’s a lovely name. And, from what your brother has told me, a woman deserving of such dedication.”

Moth’ir only knew that Moth’wo had trusted Havhen with the health of his brother. He’d not had a clue said brother and they were related by blood. How close the two actually were was a mystery to him. He hadn’t even ventured to ask so he had no choice but to accept the comment at face value. Or at least he had no energy to grill them about it.

Eased somewhat he turned his attention inward. He reiterated the name Moth in a whisper. More for himself than Havhen’s benefit. Making it real. Making her real. He closed his eyes and used it as a point to center himself.

Havhen ventured to tap his shoulder to grab his attention before holding their arm out, hopefully offering a hug. Moth’ir regarded them irritably but leaned his shoulder against theirs and allowed himself to be pulled closer. Havhen lightly pressed his head against Moth’ir’s and so they sat. Silent while idly listening to the other three while their minds were elsewhere. For their part, Havhen was busy committing the moment to memory. A small victory for them that may mean nothing but a memento of their brother when he left them for good but that in itself would be enough.

“Hey, you think she can eat some of this meat?” The Burn���s voice asked from beyond the partition.

Moth’ir snapped to, breaking Havhen’s precious moment. On his feet and away in a second. “You feed that baby anything and I swear I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

Havhen let themself linger for a moment. Wrapped their arms around their knees and listening to the new argument. Havhen had been walking with Moth’ir’s ghost for over a decade. They’d been convinced of his death by their mother and it haunted them. But then he’d returned alive; so very much alive. That life had been a messy and painful one. Whether he cared to know or not, Havhen’s had been much the same. The mystery of what laid before them could very much be more of the same but that wasn’t the important part. That they were alive is what gave those lives meaning. Nothing more, nothing less. Which is why they allowed themselves a moment to linger and not a moment more.

A life must be lived.

And there was a hot pot they needed to get to before it was gone.

[purplesurveys]

1140

"Working 9-5, what a way to make a living"

survey by lets-make-surveys

1 - What is it that do you for a living? How long have you been doing that particular job? Have mentioned this a few times, but I work at a PR agency which lets me work with a number of local and international brands and help them out with their campaigns. I’ve been with the company for 6ish months when I first started as an intern, but I officially got hired as an associate 4 months ago.

I had originally sent a letter of interest since they didn’t have any vacancies at the time, and they got back to me with an internship offer and told me they’ll get back to me should they have any openings; so it’s nice that they kept their word.

2 - Did you need to go to university or college in order to do the job that you do? I mean I think it helped my chances of scoring the job, and the skills I picked up in taking up journalism definitely remains useful; but ultimately, I don’t think people need degrees to be able to work as long as they prove to be capable.

3 - Do you work a 9-5 job or are your hours a lot more flexible? It’s a 9–6, but we have a lunch break so it’s technically 8 hours. The hours get more flexible the higher your position.

4 - Do you have to wear a uniform for your job or do you get to wear whatever you want? What is it that you typically wear to work? We don’t have a uniform but we do have a dress code. Not that I have to strictly follow it in the meantime, since we’re WFH and I always work in my loungewear lol.

5 - What are the best bits about your job? What about the worst bits? The best is that it’s literally a fun job. We make cute curated kits for media and bloggers on a regular basis, we interact with celebrities and influencers, and it’s nice to write press releases and other materials that don’t strictly adhere to the rigid and robotic journalistic style that I had to use throughout college. Plus it’s always fun to be the first to be in the know of what campaigns or launches brands are coming up with, hahaha. It’s especially fun on my part since I actually consume the brands that I work with ;)

Worst part would have to be dealing with pesky clients, or clients that have no idea what direction they want to take. As an agency, of course it’s our job to help them; but when a client sounds completely clueless, that affects the pitches that we present as well. PR crises also stress me out, but luckily we’re led by an amazing team of bosses who handle everything smoothly.

6 - How many jobs (including your current one) have you had in total? Just this one. I’ve also had two internships as well, both in PR.

7 - How old were you when you got your first job? What was it that you did? I was 22. I recognize how lucky I am to score a job during the pandemic, so I definitely haven’t taken this opportunity for granted.

8 - As a teenager, did you ever babysit, wash cars or walk dogs in order to make a bit of extra money? No, babysitting isn’t really the norm here. My parents used to give me a weekly allowance when I was still a student.

9 - Are you working in the field you wanted to work in when you were younger? I’ve gone a slightly different route. PR is still under the umbrella of journalism, but I’ve done away with the news reporting and documentary-making side of it.

10 - How may days a week do you work? Do you work full or part-time hours? Monday to Friday. I work full-time, with the occasional overtime because of how hectic everything is most of the time.

11 - Do you make good money for what you do? Can you live comfortably on the money you earn? What I earn is the standard starting salary for most fresh grads so I’m not actively complaining about it, but it could be more tbh. I for sure can’t live alone with what I make. All I’m really looking for at this point in my life is to have enough to give my parents and be able to give myself the occasional treat, so overall I’m okay with how much I make.

12 - Aside from bills/rent/mortgage/groceries, what do you spend most of your income on? Food, heh.

13 - What job have you enjoyed doing the most? What about the least? I’ve only had one job.

14 - Have you ever worked the night shift? Did you enjoy it? If not, is it something you'd ever consider doing in the future? No, and I wouldn’t consider it. It’s just a lot more convenient to get my work done during the day and be able to rest at night.

15 - Given the choice, would you want to work for yourself or for someone else? Not sure if I have it in me to run my own company or business.

16 - Would you ever be able to work with your partner and maintain your sanity? Probably not, but I think it depends on how we mesh. In my past experience, I couldn never work in harmony with Gab on some college projects we worked on because our work habits were very different. I’m super uptight and like being able to lead and attend to every detail, while she’s super independent. This is why I like working with Bea, who's very by-the-book and likes to direct every aspect of my deliverables.

17 - Do you work in a job where your appearance is important, or do you have to dress practically instead? Appearance is for sure a factor. We’re constantly handling events and managing clients, so we definitely have to make it look like it’s a ~glamorous job, at least on the outside.

18 - Have you ever had a big argument with a co-worker? What happened? No, and I’m very non-confrontational so I hope to never have to deal with this situation. Luckily we’re all very close-knit and able to maturely deal with mistakes and disagreements.

19 - Have you ever had a romantic relationship with someone you met through work? Did things work out in the long run? No. I’m not sure I’d want to entertain something like this, since it could be awkward if we broke up; I’m also worried it would affect not just my work, but also the dynamic and the vibe in the workplace.

20 - If you could do any job in the world (assuming you'd earn a decent living from it), what would you do and why? Probably a writer in the lifestyle beat where I get to try out all the fancy hotels to stay at and all the best steaks to eat for free, lol. I have media contacts who do exactly this and I loooove following their lives. I’d also be a lawyer, if only I wasn’t such a crybaby in arguments.

21 - If you won the lottery (assuming you won enough to live off comfortably), would you give up work? Most likely.

22 - Have you ever walked out of a job without giving notice? What were the circumstances surrounding it? Never. Again, too afraid of confrontation or consequences lol. I’d most likely do this if there was a group walkout, though.

23 - Have you ever been formally disciplined at work for any reason? What happened? Nope.

24 - Have you ever been sacked from a job before? I haven’t.

25 - What are the best workplace benefits you've ever had in a job? Do you have any in your current workplace? In my orientation I was told that the company has annual outings abroad, which I found fucking sweeeeeeeet?! Most, if not all, companies just do out-of-towns, so the fact that there’s enough budget to go to countries like Japan sounds super fun.

Not necessarily a ~workplace benefit~ but I also appreciate how my employer gives a big emphasis on mental health and self-care. It’s nice not to be treated like a cog or a robot.

26 - Do you work in the same location everyday, or do you find yourself travelling around a lot? I work at home, so... but based on what I’ve picked up from my co-workers’ conversations, they did regularly have to travel to our clients’ headquarters or offices pre-pandemic to hold meetings and present decks and stuff.

27 - Have you ever turned up to work drunk or high? Did you get caught or did you end up in trouble? Nah. I wouldn’t dare to do so either.

28 - Are you currently working towards any kind of promotion or payrise? Do you think you'll have any luck? I mean, that is obviously the goal; but I have a long way to go.

29 - Have you ever had a boss that you felt was incompetent or poor at their job? Did you ever tell them how you felt? Mmm no, not so far. I did recently get a new manager since Bea got promoted, but I think she’s been competent so far.

30 - Do you earn an annual salary or are you paid hourly? Not sure how to answer this because math HAHA but I get paid every two weeks.

[scandalsavagefanfic]

did you see the tagging discourse yesterday? they really went after whumpbby

Hey there. I did see it. I wrote up a response to it but I wanted to sleep on it before I responded. I wanted to make sure I come across as informative and dispassionate as possible because emotions are already high and tempers are flaring and the last thing I want to do is fan the flames.

As far as I can tell there were three issues mentioned.

1) Explicit Content in Summaries

I think not putting explicit content in a summary is a valid suggestion. Frankly, it’s not an angle I’ve ever considered (even though I’m pretty sure none of my summaries are explicit. I’m not giving away the milk for for free. You have to click on the cow to get it 🤣). 

But I do think it’s important to remember that asking the fanfiction community as a whole to embrace this as a community standard isn’t a miraculous fix it. For starters this is an additional courtesy and I’m not sure how much fic it will actually affect, particularly in this fandom (I pretty much only read explicit fic and while there’s definitely summaries that are explicit, it’s not a particularly common issue and the OP’s example is actually not explicit and is exactly the kind of thing that should be in the summary so that you know whether the fic beyond that will trigger you or not). I’m happy to pay a little extra attention and make an effort but that by no means ensures that you won’t see explicit content in the summary. I mean, tv shows give you the rating and tags in the beginning of the episode but you still might see something explicit if you’re flipping through the stations. It’s not possible for content providers to account for every person’s individual needs. The individual has to do some of the work.  There’s not really any reason for someone to be reading an explicit summary if they’ve seen the fic is rated explicit and seen the ship is one they’re uninterested in and seen that the tags contain content they’d be uninterested in for that ship (if there are any, because people forget that further tagging is another courtesy that creators go out of their way to do to make life easier for readers - I don’t know a single writer who enjoys tagging) before they ever get to the summary at all. But still. Fine. I think that’s a good point and I’ll be going through my 80+ fics over the weekend to make sure. It’s just that readers should never expect things that are courtesies to be strictly adhered to by the entirety of the community. 

2) Tagging All Batfamily Ships as “Incest”, Regardless of Actual Content

This seems to be predicated on the misconceptions that 1) the fan-dubbed Bat “Family” is an actual family by any metric that could be considered incestuous, and 2) that this is obvious and not up for discussion.

Both of those are untrue. The Batfamily are not canonically a family whose interpersonal relationships can be considered incestuous, by blood, law, or anything else. 

If you want to interpret the text that way, there is certainly room to do so. But it is neither a fact, nor an obvious one.

The Pre-Flashpoint canon, especially for Batfam, exists in a nebulous state of “maybe applicable”. One of the few things we can be sure of, is that Dick and Tim at least, were never adopted. Tim’s parents are alive and well. Pre-Flashpoint, Dick was adopted as a gesture in his late 20′s. He’s early to mid 20′s in N52/Rebirth (for some reason people seem to think that N52 and Rebirth are different continuities. They’re not. Rebirth is a continuation of N52.)

Jason’s adoption is never explicitly addressed in current canon. So you can pick your poison.

None of them grew up together in either continuity so that argument is out.

You are welcome to read the Bats as this kind of family if you want.

But no one else has to, and there is very little evidence in current (or past) canon to suggest they are. What evidence there is, is vague and ambiguous. NOT obvious and damning. There are a million different ways to consider someone family, including both platonic and romantic.  

Finally, since it was specifically pointed out, with the lack of blood ties, if I write an AU where they one or more of them has no ties to Bruce, that’s not incest and no one should be tagging it as such.

It’s pretty weird to ask someone to tag their fic as something it’s not. It’d be like asking me to tag my angst “fluff”. I might as well tag DickKory or SuperBat “incest” while I’m at it.

Hopefully this helps clear things up. Hopefully this will help people who are triggered by incest to be able to see batfam ship tags without being triggered. If the clarification that they are not a legal or blood family in canon does not help, I am truly very very sorry and I genuinely hope you can discover what it is about those ships that actually affects you so that you can better protect yourself. But I have to tag my ships. I can’t not tag a ship so that you don’t see it, because then you might accidentally stumble across it and get much further than the tag before you know what’s happening. And I can’t tag incest because it literally is not then readers will think that I’ve written a verse where the characters are blood/legal family in some way, where the fic treats them like they have familial bonds and sexual relationship, and some of them will likely avoid it.

Appropriate tagging is important so that people who don’t want to see things don’t AND so that people can find the content they’re looking for. It’s pretty unfair to expect people to use inappropriate tags and potentially harm more people by making tags meaningless and expecting readers to guess.

(small aside, “batcest” is not an ideal tag. From personal experience, coming here from comics and having no history with this kind of fandom, I avoided things tagged Batcest because I thought, with the combination of Bat + incest, it was the ship name for Bruce/Damian and I wasn’t interested in that.)

3) Inconsiderate Reader Comments

Inappropriate comments left on fics by readers, is also a valid issue. It is also an entirely separate issue that has nothing to do with the very clearly stated primary concerns. Inconsiderate comments are an unfortunate reality of creating and sharing those creations. Unfortunately there’s no, non-fascist way of forcing people to be considerate. We all have to live with that.

We can absolutely complain about publicly on our blogs. And if you’re a gen author, with no history of certain ships, I will defend that it’s rude to pop on your fic and ask if it’s going to be that ship. Just like I will defend that it’s rude to pop on my perfectly tagged Bruce/Duke fic and try to tell me that it’s incest because Duke lived at the Manor for two weeks before moving in with his uncle. I’m sorry you have to deal with it. I’m sorry I have to deal with it. I’m sorry we all have to deal with it. But it’s not something we can stop or the people who came before us would have. So it is something that you have to be able to cope with.

As for whump, I thought she handled it well, especially in her clarification posts. The OP was obviously very emotionally invested in the subject and came off very antagonistic. I know OP doesn’t consider their suggestions unreasonable but that’s because they’re based on a fundamental misconception of canon. If DC writes a continuity where the Bats are a family in any way that would make sexual relationships between them incestuous, and if I write something for that continuity, then of course I will tag it accordingly. Asking me to tag a fic as something it isn’t, is unreasonable. It instantly makes tagging in general completely useless. Asking people to apply a catchall tag or keep explicit content out of the summaries is not intrinsically unreasonable, but expecting the entire community, regardless of how immersed in fandom the creator is, to abide by that standard in a way that provides meaningful protection for you (in that you can lower your guard in any meaningful way when you have content you need to avoid) is..... well, it’s just impractical. 

[artificialqueens]

Hold Me Tighter (Even Closer), Chapter 5 (Branjie, Jankie) - Joley

ao3 link

Jan yawned as she woke up, limbs stretching as she sprawled out. Her eyes fluttered open in confusion - she was alone, but this was not her bed. But once she properly woke up, the memories of the night before came rushing back. And she had slept so well that night, her body relaxed in the wake of such an intense orgasm, comfortable in Jackie’s arms, there hadn’t been a thing she would’ve changed. But she was wondering where Jackie was – not that she would’ve gone too far from her apartment.

Without her contacts in, Jan had stumbled around the bedroom until she found clothes to put on. They fit a bit snugly, leading her to assume they were Jackie’s. But when she did put her contacts in and looked at the outfit, at the ribbed tank top and short shorts, she decided she looked cute and didn’t bother to change. She pulled her hair up into a ponytail and made her way into the other room, smiling when she saw Jackie in the kitchen. “Morning.”

Jackie had thrown a large t-shirt on, one that hit just above her knees and covered the shorts she had on underneath. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun and she hummed contently to herself until she heard Jan’s voice. She looked over her shoulder, her face lighting up when she saw Jan walk towards her. Of course, she recognized her clothes on the other girl, but she had to admit, she liked how they looked on her even more. “Hey,” she greeted, “sleep well?”

“Very,” she hummed, wrapping her arms around her back from behind and kissing her cheeks. “Oh yay, pancakes!” she chirped as she looked at the stove from over Jackie’s shoulder.

“Well, you did ask so nicely last night,” she cooed. “I’ve got syrup and butter in the fridge if you wanna grab that. Do you want coffee?”

Jan let go of Jackie to rifle through the fridge. “I’ll have a cup if you’re making some already,” she replied as she put the syrup and butter on the counter. “Did you know you don’t have to refrigerate butter? Doesn’t make sense, but apparently, that’s a thing.”

Jackie furrowed her brows. “But it’s dairy. How can you not refrigerate dairy?”

“It’s more fat than dairy,” she shrugged as she opened a couple of cabinets until she found the one with the plates in it, taking two out before closing them all up.

“I guess,” Jackie relented, loading the pancakes onto a serving plate and setting it on the counter.

They filled their plates and made coffee before relocating to sit at the dining room table, still talking animatedly about otherwise trivial and mundane topics. All the worry about things being awkward between them in the aftermath had long since dissipated, to the point where it wasn’t even registering to them anymore. They ate their breakfast, got changed, and Jackie walked Jan out when it was time for her to leave. It was as simple as that.

Jackie cleaned up and retreated to her room afterward, laying facedown in bed. She inhaled deeply, her sheets and pillowcase still smelling like Jan. She didn’t know what she had been so worried about, they got along great after having sex. Surely there was no reason why that couldn’t factor into a normal friendship, right?

——

“Okay, you can let go,” Brooke Lynn said to Vanessa, who was standing on the opposite side of the room, holding the end of a tape measure. “So, we’re looking at a nine by nine room, which is a little bigger than I expected, so that’s nice,” she remarked, setting the tape measure aside and sloppily writing the dimensions down in a notebook.

Vanessa nodded as she looked around. The walls were a basic, simple white and the floors were hardwood. They’d both come to the immediate conclusion that both of these were unsuitable for their future child. So, while they were waiting for an update from the agency they had been in touch with, they decided to dive right into the room makeover. “You know what we should do? Paint the wall with the window a bright color, and the rest like, a pastel version of it.”

Brooke tilted her head, trying to envision what her wife described. “That’s a really good idea. We get a lot of natural light in here, it’ll balance out.”

“Don’t sound surprised, I have good ideas all the time!”

“You sure do,” she cooed, wrapping her arms around Vanessa and kissing her pouting lips. “We’ll get one of those paint swatch books and you can pick out your favorites.”

Vanessa arched her brow, unsure if that was an implied promise or if Brooke was simply placating her to avoid conflict – she was well known for the latter, after all. “You’re gonna let me pick?”

Brooke offered a non-committal hum, raking her fingers through Vanessa’s hair. “We’ll talk about it, baby.”

“Yeah, yeah I heard that line before,” she rolled her eyes, but smiled and kissed her nonetheless. “What time is Katya coming to pick up the desk?”

“She said around noon, so I’m expecting about two-thirty,” she chuckled and glanced at her phone. “She’ll text or call me when she’s on her way.” She may not have been able to trust Katya to be on time, but she usually gave enough of a warning for her to adjust accordingly. Still, just in case, she would end up periodically checking to see if her phone would ring or she’d hear that familiar text tone.

Vanessa nodded. “You know, one of Katya’s freshman students is dating her niece,” she remarked offhandedly. “I think she’s Jan’s roommate.”

Brooke’s brows knitted in the middle of her forehead. “Really? I swear, everyone’s so connected around here,” she mused with a shrug. It did seem like every time she was introduced to someone, they already had a connection to someone else. And it was only ever like that in their department at this school, no other community she had been a part of had been so interwoven. There was something oddly endearing about it when she thought about it. Maybe that was why she was still so attached, why she kept coming back here.

“Dunno how, but I think it could be useful once we get back into that matchmaking shit,” she added. “Like, have someone on the inside.”

Brooke looked at her wife curiously. “Are you suggesting we get Jan’s roommate – who is also Katya’s student and by proxy, yours – to be our matchmaking spy? That seems… unethical.”

Vanessa shrugged. “Just spitballin’ ideas here.” It’s not like either of them had a pure ethical code that they had a strict adherence to, but she supposed it was for the best to just let the idea go.

As it turned out, Katya was only about an hour late, which was fairly impressive by her standards. “Alright,” she prompted once she located the desk that had been temporarily moved into the living room, “let’s load this baby up.”

The desk wasn’t too heavy – Brooke and Katya were able to take it outside while Vanessa diligently supervised and helped the other two get it into the van. It was a tight squeeze, but they made it work. “Shit,” Vanessa smiled with an exhale, “this is happening.”

“Are you okay?” Brooke asked as the three of them went back inside.

“I am, it’s just really hitting. But I’ve never been more excited about nothing in my life.”

Katya looked at the couple with piqued interest, sitting down on the couch. “Well, come on, don’t leave me in the dark here,” she jokingly chastised. “Tell me everything. What have you done so far? What do you have to do? Are you gonna have to meet with whatever parent gave up custody?” While Katya and her wife did have a child, they had gone the surrogacy route, as her wife had expressed a strong desire to do so.

“It’s so much paperwork,” Brooke said with a dramatic flourish as she dropped herself onto the couch. “I mean I get it, they want to be thorough, but still.”

Vanessa nodded. “We gotta do this thing called the ‘home study’. It’s a fuckton of meetings, interviews, and training sessions with the agency. Gonna take a few months to do all of it,” she added.

Katya looked positively riveted at the explanation. She supposed she had previously assumed it was just a marginally more complicated version of adopting a pet. “What do they teach you? Like, how not to neglect a kid?”

“Kind of,” Brooke replied. “It’s more like, understanding adoption, figuring out what we bring to the table as good parents, and stuff to decide what type of child would best be suited to us. It’s not like, we just walk into a room, look at a bunch of kids, and pick out the cutest one.”

“I mean yeah, when you put it like that, it is a human being’s entire life in play,” Katya agreed. “I think all parents should have some sort of ‘how not to fuck up your kids’ training. I’d take it in a heartbeat,” she added offhandedly.

Vanessa frowned and leaned forward, making sure she held Katya’s gaze. “Why? You guys are good moms, got your shit together, and whatever.” Sure, it had been a little surprising when she had made the announcement, but they both had all the faith in the world that she would raise her child – Brooke and Vanessa’s goddaughter – very well.

“Yeah, but wouldn’t you want a cheat sheet if you had the option of getting one?”

Brooke and Vanessa looked at each other, engaging in some sort of silent, telepathic communication happening between the two of them before they simultaneously nodded and answered, “yeah.”

Katya had a small, triumphant grin before moving on to her next question. “What type of kid are you hoping for? Is that an… okay thing to ask?”

“Yeah, I mean, we have to set some sort of parameters so the agency knows what to look for,” Brooke explained. “We decided to aim for the three to five age range, adoption rates drop off drastically at that point, and honestly, I don’t trust myself taking care of a newborn. “I said that race and ethnicity was a non-issue for me, but–”

“–But ideally, I’m hopin’ for a Latina, wanna have those cultural things to bond over, you know?” Vanessa finished, then added, “we also want a girl.”

Katya’s eyes were bright with enthusiasm for her friends. “I’m sure whatever child ends up with you is gonna be super cute and super lucky to have you guys,” she told them, then looked down to check her phone. “I gotta head out though, Priyanka’s babysitting, and I don’t trust her with Julia for more than a couple hours, especially if she brought Lemon over,” she said as she got up, then looked at her friends with a fond smile. “Oh, I remember when you two were in that phase. New love, obnoxious horniness. Ah, memories. Anyway, good luck, bye!” And with that, she was gone.

Vanessa moved to sit on Brooke’s lap. “You remember those days, boo? All that young, puppy love?”

Brooke smiled, wrapping her arms around Vanessa’s waist. “How could I ever forget? We were just so obsessed with each other, even though our communication was pretty damn bad at the beginning,” she laughed softly.

“What, like with the Juilliard girl?” Vanessa hid her face in the crook of Brooke’s neck as she giggled. “I thought I was so smart tryna make you jealous to get some rough sex,” she shook her head, cheeks still reddening despite all the years that had passed.

“Yeah, the one I was ready to murder,” Brooke recalled. “Little did you know, the best was yet to come,” she hummed as she aimlessly played with Vanessa’s hair.

Throughout their relationship, they had learned what felt like every little detail about each other, especially in the bedroom. Vanessa learned that Brooke was an exhibitionist that got off on riling her up in public, Brooke learned that Vanessa was a textbook brat that loved having her limits pushed. There was a solid chunk of time after their honeymoon that was dedicated almost exclusively to doing everything and anything they wanted to in bed.

“Been a while since we fucked like that,” Vanessa mused offhandedly. It was neither of their faults, there had been a time where they really couldn’t do anything but work. And they loved their work, and they felt comfortable enough with each other for it to never be a real concern.

Brooke frowned, holding her wife tighter. “I guess so… God, I hope we’re not falling into a lesbian bed death.” She caught the look on Vanessa’s face, the one where she was asking for an explanation without wanting to have to say the words. “It’s when a lesbian couple still really loves each other, but their sex life kind of… tapers off.”

Vanessa nodded in understanding. “Gonna have even less time once we bring in a kid,” she added, then shifted so Brooke was laying down and she was resting on top of her. “I don’t want that to happen with us, though.”

“Then we won’t let it,” she hummed, securing both arms around the smaller woman and leaning up to kiss her sweetly. “We’ll make time for each other, cram in all the sex we can get before we have to be on our best behavior. I promise I’ll make it good for you, okay baby?”

That was enough to satiate the newly-developed concern that had bubbled up inside of Vanessa. She knew neither of them ever doubted that their attraction towards each other was only matched by their love for each other, but just like any other couple, making time to remind themselves of that could only help. “Yeah, I know you’re good for it,” she chuckled softly.

There was a beat of silence before Brooke asked, “Do you think that’s why we’ve been trying to get Jan and Jackie together? To live vicariously through them?”

Vanessa chewed on her lip as she thought. “Nah,” she finally concluded. “It ain’t like that. It’s the nostalgia of it all, you know? It’s fun because watching people fall in love is fun, and sometimes people that are already in love can see that spark in other people.”

Brooke smiled warmly. “You know, sometimes I forget how prolific you can be.”

“I’m not prolific, I’m pro-choice.” Vanessa watched as Brooke struggled with the decision of whether or not to correct her. “I’m just fucking with you, babe.”

——

Jaida stared at Jackie with a deadpan expression. “You know you’re supposed to be the smart one, right?” she finally asked.

Jackie frowned, poking her fork against her food. “I don’t see what the big deal is. This whole thing was just about us being awkward about fooling around. Now we’re having sex, so everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t that be fine?”

The conversation hadn’t been going on for very long, but it was clear that Jaida was already exhausted with her friend. “The general rule of thumb for just fucking someone is that you don’t cuddle them while you sleep and then cook them breakfast in the morning. You do that with someone you’re tryna cuff,” she told her. “And if that’s what you wanna do, that’s fine, but you gotta own it.”

“I’m not trying to cuff her!” Jackie insisted. “I mean it, we have great sexual chemistry and we were driving ourselves crazy trying to ignore it. So, all we’re doing is not ignoring it. It’s healthier for us, otherwise class was just… weird. And I don’t want things to be weird with her.”

“You want me to believe that you got no feelings for her whatsoever, huh?” Jaida hadn’t even met Jan yet, she didn’t need to. She’s known Jackie long enough to know that she has never had a successful friends-with-benefits relationship before. Someone always caught feelings, and no matter how it ended, it was never good. Perhaps that was obvious, considering Jackie had been single for over a year, something Jaida knew she hated.

And that left Jackie quiet for a good few moments. As much as she overanalyzed everything else in her life, she didn’t want to do that with Jan. Jan didn’t seem complicated to her – she was vivacious and charming and seemed to know exactly what she wanted out of life. She had an air of whimsy about her that Jackie both admired and envied. “I’ve never met anyone like her before. I can’t explain how, but she’s… different. And I don’t know if it means I have feelings for her, I’m not at a point where I want to think about it.”

Jaida nodded as she listened. Even if she wasn’t fully convinced in everything Jackie said, she understood where she was coming from. And she could’ve kept riding her about it, but she didn’t see much point in that either. “Is sex good, at least?”

Jackie nearly choked on the bite of food in her mouth, quickly washing it down with a swig of her drink. “Jaida!” she giggled her hand to her chest, clutching imaginary pearls. “But, um… yes, some of the best I’ve ever had. It’s crazy, when you look at her, you see this cute, doe-eyed girl, but as soon as she gets a little horny… shit, it’s a whole transformation.”

“You topping her or nah?” She was amused and surprised by how candid her friend was being and wanted to see how far she could push it.

This time Jackie blushed and bit down on her lip. “Oh my god, Jaida,” she shook her head and looked down. “There’s no other option but to top her, it’s pretty hot.”

“Damn, okay,” Jaida laughed. “So when do I get to meet this girl? Wanna find out who’s been living in your mind rent-free.”

Jackie shrugged as she finished up her lunch. “Stop by campus one of these days, I’m sure Brooke Lynn won’t mind if you sit in on a class,” she offered. “Just play it cool, okay?”

Jaida snorted. “You first, bitch.”

[xiubaek-13]

Definitely Not Hogwarts

Prompt: Baekhyun + “You taste like fucking candy.” + “I was just hoping that y’know… you’d fall in love with me.”

Setting/AU: Magic

Warnings: innuendo, magic, completely non subtle references, swearing.

Word Count: 7,173 (it’s still a drabble, let’s pretend it isn’t this long)

A/N: I hope you enjoy it, you kind of get everyone in this as an added bonus for me taking so long.

If there was something you hated more than changing schools mid-year you had yet to encounter it. Why had you agreed? Because it was a great opportunity. So great that you’d accepted the offer knowing full well that you’d be moving in the middle of the year, packing all of your belongings into boxes - ones to take with you and ones to go into storage, and starting in classes that had already set their dynamic up for the year. Would it be easy? Not at all. Did you still want to do it? You bet your ass you did.

The school was in the middle of nowhere so you had to live on the premises. You’d never been to boarding school before so this concept was somewhat daunting but you were choosing to think of it as a hotel for the moment. All of the students lived in dorms and boarded for the year, only going home at the end of each term, and the teachers lived in separate wings of the school. Yes, wings, because the school was a goddamn castle.

Until a couple of years ago, they had never taken on a teacher’s aide before, but the powers that be had made a treaty between the gifted and the non gifted (god forbid the humans actually use the word magic, apparently that made it seem childlike and not the absolute danger to society that the government liked to portray it as. Magic was neither childlike or the demise of society as we know it but you digress). In the two years following that they had taken on a handful of aides, always non gifted, and usually morally opposed to the concept of magic, a choice that made you think that the wizard in control of the school was in fact, enjoying this whole ‘play nice with the humans’ thing far too much. The aide who had been chosen this year had vacated his position without notice at the end of the second term due to a spell gone wrong. Or something. The particulars were unclear. All you knew was that on one late summer morning you received an offer and should you have accepted that offer (you did, but you made sure not to sound too desperate when accepting it) you would have three days to prepare and move.

Those three days had been a complete and utter whirlwind. Your friends were ecstatic for you. You were the first aide they had selected that had actually had a positive attitude to the concept of magic. First and foremost you believed in science, but you were open to the idea of there being something more out there and if it could be applied to positively benefit human society then you were all for it. Plus, who wasn’t curious about what these kids were being taught?

Your work was sad to see you leave but thankfully you were only employed casually so you didn’t have to adhere to the standard procedure of giving two weeks notice or break any contracts in order to accept your new role, one of the bonuses to being a university student who was unable to work full time. You’d never been happier to not have job security.

Upon arrival to the castle school you were ushered to your wing (the north one with the big spire) by an overly enthusiastic pair of seniors, one of which kept cracking terrible jokes that you guessed were meant to put you at ease but they were just making you cringe, something that the taller senior - you were pretty sure he said his name was Chanyeol - found hilarious. The two showed you to your room, if you could call it that.

You felt like you’d been transported to the world of one of the many books you read while you were growing up - the princess or assassin (your parents made sure you didn’t reach adulthood believing that some man was going to come whisk you off your feet and solve all of life’s problems for you. They gave you books where the women took charge and fucked shit up as well as the damsels in distress, and ones with useless protagonists and ones with good men) living in the tower of a castle, waiting for the unfairly attractive prince or guard to appear so that hijinks could ensue. Your “room” was more of a suite, if castles could have suites. You decided they could, because you couldn’t fathom calling this a room, it was a bit too grandiose for that. You had a bedroom, private study/office, bathroom and tutoring room.

“As you can see, you have space for smaller lessons or tutoring.” Suho explained as you entered the small space, only a few desks and chairs decorating the room. “It’s mostly seniors who will come to you to go over homework, assignments, and anything they’re stuck on.” He added.

“But I’m just here as an aide, not as a teacher. Why would they come to me?” You asked.

Chanyeol replied. “A few reasons. First, if they don’t want the teacher to know that they haven’t fully grasped what was covered in the lesson, the school is super competitive so no one ever wants to let another student see an area that they are weak in. Second, you’ll be marking homework and assignments so they’d come to you if they want clarification around grades. Third, some will come to you to try and scare you. It’s like a sport for some of the students. They see how long the new non-gifted will last before running for the hills.” Your face must have dropped because he instantly waved his hands as he tried to lessen the blow of his statement. “N-not that all students are like that, there’s just a select group who do it. Most of us welcome the initiative to have humans in our school so that they can see that we’re not the evil witches and wizards of their childhood stories.”

“The castle and long robes aren’t helping that, just saying.” You deadpan.

Suho makes a sound akin to choking on air but when you look at him you see that he’s laughing. He looks at Chanyeol as he tries to calm himself but he keeps laughing while trying to speak. “I like her. I don’t think she has anything to worry about with that attitude.” The look the other senior gives him is one of pure exasperation and you have to do all that you can not to crack up at his face.

“Hyung…” he starts but then thinks better of it. His long legs carry him through to the next room, he clears his throat before continuing to speak. You leave Suho, who is still chuckling to himself, in the tutoring room. “This room is your office. It’s kind of a half library, half office. You can do your own research in here and organise all of your work in the room. If you ever need the fire lit just ask me to come and do it. I’m proficient with fire, most students can conjure fire but some would mess with you and light a fire that emits a stench, or one that burns too hot, one that talks to you, you get the idea.”

You nod and make a mental note to ask him to light the fire in winter for you if you haven’t come across any other trustworthy students by then. The proficiency stuff is new information to you. You knew that the gifted could conjure elemental magic but you didn’t know that they had proficiencies for certain elements.

    “I apologise for Chanyeol, he always forgets that the non-gifted don’t know about the proficiencies. I’m assuming that’s why you look confused?” Suho leans against the door frame as he speaks. He pushes off and enters the room once you nod. “To cut a long and dreary history short, gifted - as you refer to us - have the ability to wield elemental magic. Certain families have a proficiency with certain elements which allows them to have superior control over that element. In Chanyeol’s case that is fire. In mine, water. There are nine such students at this school but if we go by our history books there are twelve families with proficiencies. We can do greater things with our elements and we take extra classes to hone our skills with them. Normal students can cast a spell to light a fire in here for you but Chanyeol could click his fingers and a fire would light, or he could create a flame in his hand and have it hover for you.”

“Can he hadouken too?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them. Chanyeol folds in half, slapping his leg as he laughs. Suho looks less amused. “Or do you guys have special rings? Can your powers combined conjure Captain Planet?” Chanyeol is struggling to breathe because of how hard he’s laughing.

“That’s… that’s not how the elemental magic works.” He begins.

“Suho, I’m kidding.” You interrupt. “You need to brush up on your human pop culture circa the 1990’s.” You smirk. “Just doing my part to help eliminate the dark, evil wizard stereotype all of you have going for you.”

He chuckles at that, shaking his head as he moves towards the next room, lightly shoving Chanyeol as he passes. “This next room is your bedroom. You’ve got one of the better rooms. You should see the aide’s room in the East Wing, it’s like a shoebox. (You thank all that is good for giving you something better than a cupboard under the stairs.) It has your bed, wardrobe, lounge and adjoining bathroom. It’s the only aide room that has that actually, all of the other wings have a communal bathroom for the aides but you lucked out with a private bath.”

You wanted to make a witty remark about that but all words died on your tongue as you stepped into the room. This was far too grand to be called a bedroom. You had a giant four poster bed to one side, a lounge suite by the fireplace, a couple of wardrobes and shelves, a table with four chairs and a little kitchenette. This was more like a studio apartment but in a castle. Everything was ornate, it was like medieval meets industrial aesthetically, which worked far better than you imagined it would.

“It’s pretty nice isn’t it?” Chanyeol remarked. “Like we said, you got pretty much the best aide room out of the lot.” He scratched the back of his head as he pondered what to say next. “Uh, that pretty much concludes the tour of your room. We’ve both got class to get to but Xiumin & D.O. will come by to take you on the tour of the grounds. They’re two of the other students with proficiencies as well, and they’re both trustworthy so you’ll be in good hands.” The two students bowed and waved farewell to you, wishing you well on your first week at the school before they left.

The other two students turned up not long after Suho & Chanyeol left. One arrived while making voice notes into his dictaphone and the other while cleaning his glasses. It wasn’t difficult for you to guess that these two would be top students, they just gave off the ‘we study a lot and it shows in our results’ kind of aura. You had been informed that all of the senior students who would be showing you around were high achievers but where Chanyeol and Suho were a more relaxed and reserved levels of intellect, these two exuded it.

The two students bowed to you and introduced themselves. The one with glasses was D.O. and the one with the dictaphone was Xiumin. You swallowed the urge to make a Harry Potter joke to D.O. but with that style of glasses he was on borrowed time before you blurted it out. You were, after all, supposed to be professional. You might only be a few years older than these seniors but you were an employee of this establishment, not the new kid. You didn’t have to fit in or be classified as cool. You had the feeling that until you actually started working you’d have to keep reminding yourself of that fact.

“So we’ll be showing you the grounds so that you have a general layout of the school. If you get lost you can always ask a student but to be on the safe side I’d recommend a fellow teacher or a student whom you recognise. Others might find it fun to mislead the new non-gifted aide.” D.O. explained. Why were these seniors painting this school like it was filled with miscreants? Did the students not respect their elders or were humans looked down on that much? Were you just a temporary plaything to them or something?

“Do the students have issues with treating the non-gifted aides with any modicum of respect?” You asked.

“It’s not that. The majority of the student body welcome the integration of humans into our school, we have just as much to learn from you as you do from us if our kind are to coexist moving forward.” Xiumin replied. “But there are a select few, as there are in any setting, who will only find pleasure in making your life difficult. They will take any chance they get to embarrass and ridicule you, to trick you and to eventually send you running from this school. Their primitive thought process is that if they have enough aides flee the school that the whole initiative will be discontinued.” He shook his head as he finished speaking, showing you just how dumb he thought this select group of the student body were.

“What Xiumin is trying to say is trust your instincts. Don’t blindly trust a student because they act kind towards you, feel them out and work out if they are playing you. We’ve been through a few too many aides this year and that group think they can send anyone away. For the most part, don’t react to them. If they think their tricks have no effect on you hopefully they’ll just get bored and leave you alone.”

“Or, they will escalate their antics and put me in actual danger.” You rebuked.

“They’d get caught and punished if it came to that.” D.O. deadpanned then added. “I’m sure you’d be fine. While we’re out Lay, another senior, will be putting up warding magic on your room to prevent any hijinks from happening there.” Hijinks? you mouthed but before you could say anything back to the half blood prince wannabe he started walking down the hall.

Xiumin chuckled under his breath and motioned for you to follow. “You’ll get used to him. He’s blunt but he’s not unkind. He doesn’t like his routine being messed with. Normally he’d be running a study group so he’s a little off kilter today. Just work with it please?” You nodded and followed the other male as he set off after not Harry Potter.

The tour was pretty informative, with both boys giving you some history for the different areas which you found fascinating. They also showed you the areas of the school you’d be frequenting the most - the main hall, the teachers lounge, kitchen, and a small selection of the classrooms you’d be in. They marked these locations on a map for you and went over the easiest routes for you to follow. Both of them were very polite and patient with you as you very slowly got your bearings. Xiumin advised for you to memorise the paths rather than any objects in the halls as they had a tendency to move. D.O. eventually led you to a large set of double doors and guided you down towards the grounds at the rear of the school. This place was massive and your brain hurt from trying to remember everything.

“The sports grounds, gym, amphitheater, horticulture and agriculture areas are spread out here. The easiest ways to know the borders of the grounds are the lake at the back, forest to the left and mountains to the right. You’re perfectly safe if you remain within those boundaries. We’ll quickly take you down to each building but you won’t have to come down here too often so don’t worry too much about memorising them.” He stated.

Xiumin added, with a grin on his face. “You’ll probably only come down to watch sporting matches. Even if you don’t really care for sport, adding magic makes the games much more interesting. Occasionally a class will be held down here if they are using spells that require a lot more space than a classroom offers.” You were going to have to witness this if only to put a real image in your mind of what that looked like. Until you did, it would be every tacky wizard movie you’d ever seen playing on repeat, which would drive you batty. The two of them continued showing you everything, adding fun facts and tidbits of history along the way.

“So, uh, forgive my ignorance but we really only have mainstream media to go off here. Do you guys use wands?” You ask.

D.O. scoffs indignantly. “We absolutely do not. Wands are for children and idiots.”

“What he means to say is that we use our hands and minds. Wands exist but are not widely used since they require far less skill and are less accurate.” Xiumin adds.

“Your mainstream media is dumb.” D.O. says.

You raise your hands. “Hey, no disagreement from me here. I know it’s incorrect with its portrayals 99% of the time which is why I asked.” Xiumin chuckles as he calms D.O. down. You hadn’t expected his outburst to be over a fucking wand but hey, weirder things were surely still to come.

Eventually the three of you approached the large doors that would lead you back within the main building. D.O. smiled when you looked to him to lead the way back. “Oh no. You’re going to lead us back to your room as best you can. Consider this a test of your short term memory.” He chuckled as your face fell.

“Fine.” You grumbled. How hard could it be to follow a map back to your room anyway?

Harder than it looked was apparently the answer. You made it back after a few wrong turns. Part of you wondered if this was some cruel joke where they got to laugh at you leading yourself in circles while futilely trying to reach your destination. The other part just wanted you to hurry up and work out how to get back to your room. When you spotted the stairs that led to your hallway you sighed in relief. Both boys smiled brightly at you. “We consider our tour a failure if you can’t find your way back. You might have made a few missteps but you got back without needing any assistance. You’ll know the grounds like the back of your hand soon enough.” Xiumin smiled.

The two of them led you the rest of the way back to your room before bidding you farewell. “We’ll see you in class.” Xiumin said as he bowed, a small smile on his face. He definitely didn’t look old enough to be a senior but who were you to judge? You were in a freaking school of magic, for all you knew he was 400 years old. Or maybe there was a portrait of him hidden in an attic somewhere.

“Thanks for the tour, you both helped me out a lot. I will definitely be using this map over the coming days while I get my bearings. There is a lot of history here,” You gestured to your surroundings. “and it’s fascinating, I know you barely scratched the surface with the small insights you gave me but it was very informative and enjoyable.” You smiled.

D.O. chuckled. “I’m glad you didn’t fine it too boring. Most of the aides that come through here don’t even listen to half of the tour we give.” He paused. “Actually, before we go I have a question for you.” His head tilted to the side as he appraised you, as if looking for some answer to his yet unasked question.

“Go ahead, it’s the least I could do after such a lovely tour.” You replied.

“Well, the least you could do would be nothing but -”

“Let’s not debate semantics right now.” Xiumin interjected.

D.O. huffed, but acquiesced. “Fine. We’ll ignore the idiosyncrasies of the english language for now.” Xiumin rolled his eyes, this was clearly not the first time he’d had to deal with the other nitpicking at insignificant details of the language. “My question is in two parts. Firstly, where do you stand on the issue of magic? and secondly, why did you accept this role?”

Well that wasn’t the question you were expecting. You didn’t know what question you were expecting but it sure as hell wasn’t one this bold, especially not from a student. “To start with, you know I don’t actually have to answer you right? You are technically my students.”

    “Of course. Will you answer it though?” He asked, his gaze locked on yours. The balls on this kid…

“I will, but the point is that I don’t owe you, or any student an explanation like this.” They both nod at you and wait for you to continue. “To answer the first part of your question, I believe in science. Always have and always will, but I’ve always had an interest in magic. It was this mystical thing that appeared in the storybooks of my childhood, and I don’t mean the propaganda that litters the homes of the non gifted, these books had the gifted as heroes, as people who saved the day. I watched the change happen. All it took was one world leader who realised the gifted were real and they feared the abilities you have over non gifted. Suddenly all of the children’s books had evil wizards and witches who would trick you and eat you. I was never swayed, my interest only grew once I realised that the mystical wonders from my childhood books were real. I think that in order for gifted and non gifted to coexist, they need to work together and not look at either side as less than or evil. There are terrible gifted and non gifted people but there are also wonderful gifted and non gifted people. We fear the unknown but if we work together, that fear lessens.”

You pause to take a breath, noticing how wide Xiumin’s eyes have gotten as you’ve been speaking. “As for the second part, part of it has surely been answered in the first part of my response but aside from general curiosity and a belief in our kind working together I also want to be a part of that. It’s not lost on us that most non gifted selected for the program have been heavily against the concept of magic and view the gifted as the devil incarnate. I know I’m probably one of the first to be selected who has no negative preconceptions of what goes on here and I want to do my job, help students and be able to provide workable ideas for the future of our kind coexisting. I believe that if we can work together, science and magic combined will result in wondrous things.”

Finally, he cracked a smile, his whole face changing into that of a bright young man. “You are a welcome change. You’re not wrong when you say that the other aides have a dislike of our kind and of magic as a whole. I think our kind chose the wrong approach by attempting to make a non gifted who was fundamentally against everything that we stand for change their mind by simply existing with us. It was never going to work, and even if it did your government could scratch it up to stockholm syndrome. Just.” His face hardens but his gaze softens as he looks at you. “Keep your wits about you and don’t be fooled by rose coloured glasses.”

***

Your first few days went by without too many hiccups. You’d been thrown into a wide array of classes; apothecary, history of magic, potions, magical law, spellcasting & defense magic. The classes were overwhelming but oh so interesting, to the point that you had to keep reminding yourself that you were supposed to be reading up on the syllabus and grading homework against the guide sheets you’d been given, not giving your full attention to the teacher. That was easier said than done once the topic of dragons came up. It took all of your self restraint not to blurt out “Fucking hell, dragons are real?!” but maintaining your professional facade took priority. You made a note to read up on them later because they were even more fascinating than your childhood stories had hinted at.

You met most of the other proficient students thanks to Suho & Chanyeol introducing them to you. You’d run into Xiumin & D.O. again when they were on their way to their extra credit classes and asked them about their proficiencies, apologising for forgetting to ask the first time you’d met. They’d let you know that Xiumin’s proficiency was ice and D.O.’s was earth. You didn’t get to ask much more about it because they ran off to class, not wanting to be late and have that mark on their records.

“Good Afternoon Chanyeol, what can I do for you?” You’d asked when he approached you with two other students trailing behind him.

He grinned and gestured to the two behind him. “I figured I should introduce you to these two. They’ll either annoy the shit out of you or be model students.” You raised a brow at him. “They’re younger than most seniors, thanks to their proficiencies.” He stage whispered at you.

“You know we can hear you right?” One of them remarks.

To his credit, Chanyeol ignores them and continues talking. “Whilst they are young and immature, they possess a lot of control over their elements, Kai in particular.” He gestures to the boy to his left, who smiles shyly at you and waves. “They figured they should get him through school, disciplined & bursting at the seams with morals before he got too old. His proficiency is teleportation you see, so everyone does what they can to steer him away from a life of crime.”

You nod. “No ill gotten gains for you then.” Kai chuckles. “Can you only teleport yourself or can you take people and objects with you?”

“I can choose. I have to be touching whatever I want to take with me but if someone grabs me I can choose to teleport alone or with them.” He replies.

You lean forward on your desk. “How large an object can you move?” You ask.

He grins at you. “Not telling.”

You sigh dramatically. “Chanyeol, I fear that he might have already given in to a life of crime.” For a moment Chanyeol looks confused until the synapses connect and he realises that you’re poking fun. “If you do a dramatic pose when you teleport then I think you’re well on your way to the criminal mastermind title.”

Kai laughs loudly. “I like her.” he states before wandering off to find his seat. You just hoped the military never found out about him, they’d abuse his power wherever possible and he seemed far too kind for that kind of life.

The other male clears his throat to remind Chanyeol that he is still waiting for his introduction. Chanyeol’s eyes widen and then narrow in frustration. “This is the youngest of the proficient, Sehun. He likes to think that the universe revolves around him but we keep him grounded, figuratively and literally…once or twice.”

You glance past Chanyeol to Sehun. He looks like he has a chip on his shoulder, and the resting bitch face isn’t helping him not seem like a jerk to you but you give him the benefit of the doubt. “Hi Sehun, what is your proficiency?”

He gives you a very slight, like blink and you’d miss it kind of slight, smile as you feel a light breeze wash over you. “Wind.”

You ponder for a moment and bite your tongue to prevent another Captain Planet reference from coming out. “Wind would be the broad term though wouldn’t it? You control air right?” You ask.

He nods. “Yes. I can control and manipulate the air, it’s velocity and molecular structure.”

“Are they trying to prevent you from a life of crime as well by fast tracking your schooling?”

He smirks. “Something like that. I had a huge amount of power but no control over it so I was pushed through school to better harness my power.”

Chanyeol interjects. “His power used to be based off his emotions so he’s had to learn to control himself and basically relearn how to use his power.”

“That’s pretty impressive actually.” You reply.

Sehun actually smiles at that. “I like her too, for now. Nice to meet you.” He nods then also heads to his seat.

Chanyeol smiles warmly. “He caused himself a lot of harm while he was learning. Lay, you haven’t met him yet but he’s proficient in healing, had to patch him and quite a few of us up on several occasions. He seems cold and aloof but he needs to be in order to keep his ability at a safe level.”

“Thanks for introducing me, that’s 6 of you I’ve met so far so I still have 3 to go? Lay being one of them. Who are the other 2?”

You hear the groan in his voice. Clearly he isn’t a fan of these two. “Chen & Baekhyun. They are probably the two who will give you the most grief. Too clever for their own good and they are sneaky as all hell. They control lightning & light. Don’t be fooled by their lost puppy eyes. In fact, ask some of the other aides, I’m sure they have stories.” He glances up as the teacher enters the room and ducks off to his seat.

You’re left to wonder about these two supposed wicked students. What do they look like? (Probably should have asked that in hindsight) Are they really that charming? Had the other aides exaggerated with their stories? You were going to find one after class and learn more about these two. You wanted to be prepared for whenever they decided to show up in your vicinity.

***

“Baekhyun? Is he here?!” The aide shuts the door quickly, looking around the room frantically.

“Woah, woah, calm down. He’s not here. I was just asking about him.” You try to calm the spooked aide. Christ what did this student do to the aides?

“What did he do to you?” She asks quietly.

“Huh? Nothing. I haven’t met him yet.”

“Keep it that way.” She says quickly.

“The better question is what did he do to you?” You take a step towards the aide, determined to get answers. She seems truly afraid of this student. Is she vehemently against magic? Yes. Does that warrant this level of fear? You’re not sure.

“He’s evil.” She whispers.

You roll your eyes. “Come on now. I know you aren’t exactly pro magic but evil? In what way?”

Her eyes widen as she grabs the fabric of your shirt over your shoulders. “He toys with you. He’ll be the sweetest student you ever meet until you do something that he doesn’t like. Then he’s your worst nightmare.”

“So a teenager with an out of control ego. That’s not so bad. You had me thinking he’d be murdering kittens on my doorstep or something.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t understand! He’s proficient in light, sounds lame right?” Maybe it sounded lame to her but you had already put some thought into that power. Manipulating light and dark, controlling shadows - that could be a terrifying power. “It sounds like a nothing proficiency compared to the others but once you realise that light is necessary to everything, it becomes terrifying. He shouldn’t be.” She shudders.

Maybe that attitude is why he doesn’t like you. You think to yourself. Out loud, you attempt to change the subject. “And Chen?”

She scoffs. “He’s a trickster but there is no malice in what he does. He messes with you because he can. Compared to the other one, he’s harmless.”

You bid her farewell and head back towards your room. Another aide stops you down the corridor. “He knew she had a fear of the dark so he manipulated the shadows so that she felt like she was perpetually being engulfed in darkness for the better part of a month. She’s been a nervous wreck around him ever since. All because he didn’t score higher than Kai in class.”

“He sounds like a right jerk.” You state.

“He is. He’s ruthless once he’s decided that you aren’t useful to him anymore. The others are all probably like this but he’s the only one not hiding what an evil monster he and his kind truly are.” The aide leaves before you can give him a piece of your mind. Armed with more information on the remaining two proficient students than you’d had an hour ago, you head back to your room. Lost in thought you fail to notice a student the student that brushes past you.

***

The rest of your day goes smoothly. You attend two more classes and are given homework to mark for each. Sehun comes to you for tutoring after his magical law class. He’d told you he understood the concepts they’d covered but didn’t understand why any of it mattered. You’d done your best to explain the notion of risk and consequence in relation to magical law, using his own grasp on his proficiency as an example. Once he left another student came knocking on your door, one you hadn’t been introduced to yet.

“Are you a senior?” You asked.

He nodded. “You’re our new aide.”

“Your powers of observation are second to none.”

“Hey now, that’s not how you should talk to students!” He exclaimed as he entered the room. You’d figured that he was one of the 3 remaining seniors you were yet to meet, you just didn’t know which one he was. The upturned shape of his mouth screamed ‘I’m mischief incarnate’ so you ruled out Lay.

“Most students would announce themselves upon arrival. Forgive me, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced yet.” You don’t hold out your hand, a tip you were heeding since Xiumin mentioned it.

“I’m Chen and I suck at apothecary. Please help me teacher-nim. I need to be in the top tier of the class so that my parents will get off my back.” He dramatically drops to his knees and overacts begging for help, making you laugh loudly.

“Get up, dear lord. Chen… lightning proficiency right?” He nods. “Do you just invoke it or can you direct it wherever you want it to go?” You ask.

Instead of answering he flicks his wrist and a small electric shock strikes your thumb. It’s similar to when you get a shock from your car or if you touch something after shuffling on carpet. You look up at him to see him smirking. “I can control it, and make it as strong or as delicate as I please.” He waggles his eyebrows at you.

You choose to ignore what he’s implying and continue to question him. “Just lightning or all electrical currents?”

“Oooh we have a smart one this time. Everyone else tried to work out my proficiency based off norse mythology.” He grins, that smile as disarming as you expected it to be.

“Oh please, you’re more shock mouse than god of thunder.” You blurt out. “Though I hear that you aren’t dissimilar to another norse god - Loki.”

He laughs loudly, the sound is music to your ears. “You are not what I was expecting but I’m not mad about it yet.” He settles into a seat at the desk across from you. “But seriously, I need help with this class. Can we work on that now and exchange smartass lines at each other later?”

You laugh and nod, settling back into teacher mode. So far Chen doesn’t seem as bad as the reputation that preceded him but you make sure to keep your wits about you. You know one thing for certain though, this student is a tragic flirt.

***

You’re exhausted after the extra tutoring sessions and the marking. Your bed has never looked so inviting and you cannot wait to slide under the covers and drift off to dreamland. Your alarm had rather rudely pulled you from a particularly salacious dream last night and you were hoping to return to it tonight. You packed away all of your stuff, making sure to lock the students work in your private office. You’d been informed that there was a nullify spell over the room which rendered everyone’s skills, no matter how proficient, useless. Once you were done packing up you made your way to your bathroom to wash up for the night, taking your time to complete your skincare routine and brushing your teeth.

You refrain from rushing to your bed because you are not a child but a sigh of pure joy escapes your lips once you finally crawl under the covers. You think back to the dream you had left this morning and sink into the pillows, closing your eyes. The image of the log cabin in the snow coming back into view. You feel the cozy warmth of the blanket wrapped around you as you wait for him to return. He’d gone to fetch more hot chocolate and sweets so that you could finish watching the movie you’d started just over an hour ago.

Vaguely you recalled him being more built in this mornings dream but as long as he was bringing you sugar who were you to judge. What did alarm you was the sudden change in sensation of the blanket against your skin. Before you felt cozy as it had warmed your clothes but now you could feel it against your skin. When had you suddenly become naked?

Then he appeared. He didn’t look as sweet as you recalled. Rather, he looked annoyed for a fraction of a second before his face transformed, a kind expression now showing on it as he climbed back onto the bed next to you and handed you a mug of the aforementioned hot chocolate and placed a bowl of sweets in front of you. “Thanks babe.” You smiled as you picked up a toffee and put it in your mouth.

“You’re welcome.” The words sounded forced. Like he didn’t want to say them.

You do your best to ignore it and continue watching the movie as you sip your drink. You feel like he’s staring at you and not in a ‘I want to kiss every inch of you before I ravage you’ kind of way. “What?” You ask as you look at him.

“Really? ‘You taste like fucking candy?’ That is the smooth line your subconscious came up with? You need to get out more.” His tone is full of judgement and disgust.

“What?! What are you talking about?” You exclaim, confused. This dream isn’t like the one you wanted to return to.

“In your mind we keep watching this movie and then I lean in to kiss you and say that line.”His judgemental tone is really starting to grate on you.

“Who the fuck are you?” You ask exasperatedly.

“I really thought you were smarter than this.” He chides as he gestures to himself as though he’s the greatest thing since sliced bread. “I’m Baekhyun.”

“What the fuck are you doing in my head? I’ve never even met you!” You clutch the blanket around you as you remember your nakedness. Was this still a dream? It felt a little too real to be a dream. There were details missing and if you were dreaming up Baekhyun then you needed to have some stern words with your subconcious about cockblocking you. The dream was supposed to start cringeworthy and saccharine sweet but then twist into a filthy romp. You knew the lines were cheesy, but they were supposed to be. It wasn’t so sweet when your face was planted into the rug about 20 minutes from now.

He shrugs. “I’ve had no reason to seek you out in person, not with everyone painting me as some sort of antichrist to you.”

“So what? You just decided you’d appear in my dream?” You choose to go with this no longer being your dream. You figure that he’s somehow invaded it and that alone is pissing you the hell off.

“I wanted to see what you were like and my proficiency allows me to do this so I figured ‘what the hell’ and popped over for a visit.” He grimaces. “I was not expecting ‘I’ve come to clean ze pool’ levels of dialogue though.”

You close your eyes and shake your head. “You need to get out of my dreams. I didn’t fucking invite you here.” It dawns on you that he must be able to dream walk and that thought somewhat terrifies you. Suddenly the frantic fear that the other aide had doesn’t seem so dramatic.

“Push me out then. Consider this a lesson in defense against wizards. Your mental barriers are weak. I can see everything.” He leans against the wall of the cabin as though he hasn’t a care in the world. You don’t have a clue at how to push him out because why would you? You try to imagine kicking him out of your head and locking a door behind you but he simple laughs at you. You try visualising a vault, and locking away your precious thoughts and memories, slowly filling the vault with more and more items.

He laughs. “Oh you are tragic. I thought the candy line was bad but this, this is just ripped from a poorly written romance novel. ‘I was just hoping that y’know… you’d fall in love with me.’ Excuse me while I barf.”

“Fuck you.” You grumble. You are going to evict this smug prick from your mind if its the last thing you do.

He looks you up and down and smirks. “Non-gifted aren’t usually my thing but I’d make an exception for you.” He winks. “The bit after all of the terrible dialogue isn’t so bad now that I look forward. My, my, you are filthy.”

You want to punch him.

[walking-loather]

Sometimes I really hate the fact I was born female.

I hate that fact that men don't take me seriously.

I hate that I'm seen as a harpy whenever I show slight passion about a topic.

I hate that I was raised in a school where the boys thought I was insane for being a feminist. Where boys took pictures of me after saying "women only belong in two places, the kitchen and the bedroom", and then posting them all over social media calling me the "angry man hating lesbian feminist". I hate that a boy negged me on in chemistry class, sexually harassed me, and then when I lost it at him my chemistry teacher told me to calm down, that I was overreacting. I hate that when i told him to fuck off, and got sent to the deputy principal to explain myself. Me. Not him. Not the boy who was harrassing me, or the teacher that allowed it in his classroom.

I hate that when I told my dad a boy had been sexually harassing me, he went behind my back, contacted his parents and my school administration. I hate that I was then called into my deputy principals office and told that this had all "been blown out of proportion" and that I was being unreasonable. But it wasn't unreasonable for that boy to say he couldnt wait until I was 18 to get me drunk and high so he could have sex with me. When I was an out lesbian.

I hate that one of my friends was raped by a boy in our school. I hate that when she told the school they didn't believe her. I hate that they made her continue to share classes with him. I hate that she was threatened with suspension for spreading lies about "such a serious topic" and that he was able to keep harassing her on school grounds, unchecked.

I hate that one of my friends thought it was okay to threaten to rape me in front of my entire social group as a joke. And then I was seen as a hysterical bitch for telling my most trusted teacher. She actually did something about the situation. I was then ostracised from that group of friends. I "couldnt take a joke" apparently.

I hate that when I was nine years old I was riding my bike around my neighbourhood, and a boy five years my senior cornered me in an alleyway and tried to rape me not twenty meters away from my front door.

I hate that when I was younger a boy would hit me, scratch me, pull my hair, twist my arm, dig his grubby little fingers into my pressure points, making me cry out with pain, only to be told it was because he liked me. I hate that I believed it. I hate that I let it continue for two years. For two years my "best friend" covered me in bruises, and I let him because it made me feel pretty and wanted. I was ten.

I hate that when I was fourteen and desperate to convince myself I wasn't gay, a boy who i thought was my friend tried to pressure me into dating him only to then tell me about his porn addiction—his words, not mine—and call me an insensitive cunt for getting as far away from him as possible. After he told me about the things he'd like to do to me. Not with me. To me. As fourteen year olds. As children.

I hate that I was forced into pink and shaved legs and make up and long hair.

I hate that my mother made me cut up boxer shorts I had bought because I was sick and tired of wearing panties. Because some guy had made some comment about my grammy-panties. Never mind the fact that they were comfortable. I bought boxers because they were closer to shorts and I thought boys would just leave me alone. I bought boxers because they were cool and had superheroes on them and were comfortable. I bought boxers because I was sick and tired of the neon pink panties my mother had been making me wear for my entire life.

I hate that I wore pigtails to school and a boy called them "ride-me handle-bars".

I hate that when I cut my hair off the first thing people assumed I was, was a man. As if its that easy to take my womanhood away from me. As if all that makes a woman is long hair. I hate that I was called "skank who was trying to hard" when I had long hair, an "art hoe" when I had short hair, and a "dyke", "failed woman", "wannabe man" when it was cropped.

I hate that at 8 years old I was being bullied for being ugly. Because I had unkempt eyebrows. Unshaven legs. Tangled hair. Sweaty skin. Scraped knees. A crooked smile. Because I wasn't a child model. Because I wasn't some pedophiles wet dream.

I hate that I'm considered incompetent for certain jobs because of my menstrual cycle. Because women are too over emotional when they're "pms-ing" or "on the rag"

I hate that a man's go to insult for me is "cunt". Something that dehumanises me to my genitals. How silly of me to think I was anything more than just a hole for someone to fuck.

I hate that someone took advantage of my sexuality. Because I was repressed. Because I was a woman who grew up in a christian environment. Because I was a lesbian who was still convinced I could be straight. Because there was a pretty woman who knew she could manipulate me. I hate how there are people who still think its my fault, or that lesbian sex isnt even real so how could I be raped? Or that women can't rape. I hate that I had been convinced that what happened to me was normal. Because women are frigid bitches that don't want sex, but their partners do, and its "inhumane" to not put out.

I hate that I am paid less. And that people don't believe women arent paid less. Despite the fact that their is mountains of evidence to support our argument.

I hate that I had to do twice the work to get half the recognition in school.

I hate that a boy with no experience and no drive was seen as a more suitable leader than I was. Because I was a "controlling bitch". I hate that I did an incredible amount of work on the student council and he got to take the credit for it. I hate that he was a worse student but was seen as more acedemically gifted than I was.

I hate the double standards.

I hate how every part of my body is sexualised. I hate how my disability is sexualised.

I hate how when I mentioned my chronic pain condition to my male classmates, they made comments about how I would make a fantastic masochist. I hate that I internalised it. I hate that I believed them. I hate that when I got into a sexual relationship I let her hurt me—even though i didn't like it—because I throught kinky sex was the bare minimum and "vanilla" was for frigid prudes.

I hate that my body is not mine, but rather belongs to the public. For the government to legislate. For strangers to ogle at. For my father to control. And when I speak up I'm an unreasonable bitch. When I demand agency, I'm insane.

I hate how the odds were stacked against me since birth all because of that second x chromosome. All because some doctor said "its a girl" and immediately half of my opportunities were removed because they "weren't for girls".

I hate that in order to keep a job I am supposed to adhere to femininity. That not wearing make up is seen as lazy and unhygienic. That I need to "fix my eyebrows". That I need to shave my "gross gorilla legs".

I hate all this bullshit bagage that comes with being female. I hate it. I hate it so much. I hate that I am my own voyeur. I hate that even in my most private moments I am focused on how an unseen gaze would percieve me.

I hate that the slightest devience from "purity" will be met with threats of violence. That if someone doesnt agree with my politics I can be told to "choke on a dick" and to "kill myself" and whoever said that is safe in the knowledge that their community supports their words and actions. That if I step a toe out of line or make a mistake I deserve the full force of misogyny that people have been waiting to dole out to an appropriate victim.

I hate that my own father sexualised me. I hate that he abused me. I hate that he got away with it all because "teen girls make up that kind of stuff for attention". Because he was an "upstanding man". I hate that believes he is guiltless. I hate that he has manipulated and gaslighted me into believing his version of events. I hate that when I speak up I need to be careful because "he's a good man" and "he doesnt seem like the kind to do that" and that "you're blowing things out of proportion, I'm sure it was never like that."

I hate that when women accuse men of violence its "he said, she said". But when men accuse women of the same they are instantly believed. I hate that my voice holds less weight than a man's.

I hate that the religion I was raised in told me not to speak in church. Not to ask questions. To submit to men. To cover my head before god. That braided hair was sinful and vain.

I hate that I was taught there was no such thing as a female orgasm in order to discourage me from having sex. That I was told sex would be painful. And yet I was also told that when I married a man I should freely give him sex because it was my duty to serve him and bear children.

I hate that I'm seen as a baby factory.

I hate that I'm seen as a collection of body parts. A uterus. A pair of tits. A vagina.

I'm not those things. I am made up of those things, but they do not define my worth. I am made of carbon, but you wouldn't call me "an arrangement of carbon atoms" or "a carbon storage system" or "a carbon factory"

I hate that when I talk about my experience with womanhood I need to twist myself into knots to not step on any toes or offend. I hate that I have to be palatable when I am upset and enraged.

I hate that my anger is demonised and sexualised.

I hate that my love is fetished by heterosexual men. I hate that they see lesbianism as this empty thing to get off to.

I hate that I don't feel safe holding my girlfriend's hand in public. I love her more than anything in the world and my skin burns when I don't get to touch her. I hate that sometimes I get scared and call her my "friend". Not girlfriend. I hate that in public I feel ashamed to love her.

I hate it that my homosexuality is debated. I hate that it is seen as disgusting.

I hate that I have been taught and socialised that every single part of who I am is fundamentally flawed in some way.

And yet, despite all this, there are days where I am grateful for who I am. There are days when this body is not my enemy. There are days when I love my womanhood, however that may appear. There are days when I am unbothered by the thoughts of others. There are days where I am unafraid to love who I love and to love proudly.

There are days where the pain and anger of the past drive me to be happy.

I know those days won't last. They never do. There's always a slur, or a misogynist, or an abuser, or a traumatic memory. There's always a right being infringed upon, or an aspect of my body made public property, and it takes me right back to the anger.

I could never stop being angry. There is too much pain in this body to forgive and forget.

But sometimes, I don't hate the fact that I was born female. Some days I'm proud.

[pickledchickenetti]

I Survived I Kissed Dating Goodbye documentary

Tonight I finally watched the documentary I Survived I Kissed Dating Goodbye. This documentary, released last fall, is about Joshua Harris admitting that he no longer supports the courtship model he pushed in his book I Kissed Dating Goodbye and the followup, Boy Meets Girl: Say Hello to Courtship. The first book, released just over twenty years ago, was released when he was an unmarried 20 year old, and the second was released three years later after he got married. A week and a half ago he and his wife announced they were getting divorced, and two days ago he announced that he no longer considers himself a Christian. I hesitated to write about the documentary given that he’s seemingly done more soul-searching since then, but I decided to share my thoughts on the documentary with a disclaimer that (unless otherwise stated) these thoughts are not about any of his beliefs that have changed since then. The process of leaving a faith system that ran your life up until then is not an easy process, and even if it often turns out to be a good thing, I still don’t wish that struggle on anyone. It’s a painful process full of soul-searching, and when you finally come out on the other side you’re met with people claiming you never truly believed anyway, which is a huge slap in the face. Coupling that with divorce must make it even harder, and I hope he seeks the help he needs and is able to pick up the pieces, move on, and build a new and happy life for himself.

That being said, I really disliked his documentary. I will admit that I had heard mostly negative things about it beforehand. While I tried my best to go in with an open mind so I could form my own opinions, I did go in knowing that a lot of people whose opinions I respect took issues with it. Now that I have watched it, I can see the basis for a lot of those issues. 

Early on in the documentary, we see a conversation between Joshua and his wife Shannon where they talk about the fact that they fell and love and married after the book was already popular, which forced them to adhere to the standards it outlined. At one point in this conversation the two of them laugh at why anyone would listen to marriage advice from an unmarried twenty year old. It’s a fair argument, and one that my friends and I had already mentioned earlier in our viewing. In the context it was presented, however, it almost seemed to set the tone for the rest of this documentary. Joshua pretty regularly expressed sentiments about how his book hurt people, only to turn around and give some sort of but. This book hurt a lot of people BUT they didn’t have to take my advice. A lot of folks felt it really damaged their lives BUT they could have just stopped reading. Many of my beliefs at that time maybe weren’t the greatest BUT it was other people’s fault for taking them too far. At no point in this documentary did I feel that he truly felt he was to blame for the hurt that others felt. 

In the months since I heard he had changed his beliefs and made this documentary, I have often questioned how much he should be held responsible for the effect his book has had on the last couple generations of kids raised in the church. It’s true that other people took the book to a much bigger place than he likely expected at twenty years old. And he and his wife were right in expressing the absurdity that anyone would listen to an unmarried twenty year old’s marriage advice. A lot of us wouldn’t even listen to a married twenty year old’s marriage advice. But does that absolve him of any and all blame? I’m honestly still not sure what I feel on this subject. 

What I do think is that this documentary did more harm than good. If he had simply come out and said “I understand that my book has done a lot of harm. I know longer believe in many of the things I wrote twenty years ago, and the book will no longer be printed. I hope all of those who were victimized by the things I wrote and said are able to find the help they need and move on” I would likely feel differently about him than I do now. All I saw from this documentary was a man pretending to apologize by placing the blame elsewhere. No one called for him to apologize, he offered it. Then instead of a real apology he gave the typical gaslighting apology of “I’m sorry if you felt hurt by my actions” which does not mean at all the same thing as “I’m sorry for my actions”. If he had never given a fake apology I wonder if I would have even felt that he needed to apologize, but because he did, I do. 

The other day I posted screenshots of tweets from Elizabeth Esther, a writer who was one of the interviews featured in the documentary. In a TED Talk, Joshua Harris cites a twitter conversation with Elizabeth as the starting point for his change of beliefs on the contents of his book. In her tweets, she says she regrets her participation in the documentary, as he did not seem to truly have changed his beliefs and edited things in ways that took her words out of context to make himself look good. She directly says “I feel used” in her tweets, and I feel for her. I paid special attention to her interview, and can understand why she might not like the way it was cut. I’d love to see the unedited interview. The sentiments expressed in her tweets almost directly contrast her message of forgiveness expressed in her blog post on the subject a year earlier, which was written in response to their initial interactions on Twitter. Knowing he was pulling that sort of editing trick less than a year ago does make me question his motives in being open about his faith journey in the time since. 

I want to believe he is genuine in all of this, and that he’s sharing this as a way to be encouraging. But for whatever reason I can’t shake the nagging doubt that he is the first of many who will say what they need to say to capitalize on the exvangelical movement that’s currently taking off on Twitter and in blogs. One thing that stands out to me in particular is that his recent post included his affirmation for the LGBTQ community and the fact that that post went up pretty shortly after Elizabeth Esther’s tweet saying he directly said to her that he didn’t affirm LGBTQ folks blew up on twitter. (An old tweet from December, yes, but a couple key exvangelical leaders on Twitter recently retweeted it.) I hope that in the time since he released the documentary he has come to feel differently. But in the documentary, which came out less than a year ago, he said folks who have acted on their same sex attractions “need to deal with that with God” before moving onto the next steps. I’m always wary to believe when people make a complete 180 on this subject very quickly because I am gay myself and it still took me years to shake off the negative opinions on LGBTQ folks that I was raised with. (I fully acknowledge that perhaps being gay myself makes it harder to do that 180 because it’s not just this concept you’re trying to stop hating but a part of yourself. I don’t know if that means straight folks can come around so much faster or not but I struggle to accept that it happens in the matter of months.) 

A friend asked me this afternoon if I had even read I Kissed Dating Goodbye, which made me realize that I’m not actually sure. While I know I grew up very aware of it and the message it preached, I was given a lot of purity culture books and materials as a teen and I now have a hard time distinguishing which ones I did and didn’t read. For that reason, I am considering going in and reading it in the near future just so that it’s fresh on my mind and I can have a clear idea of exactly what is in that book in particular. I have a feeling that Joshua Harris and his journey is a subject that will still be relevant for awhile to come and I don’t like to share too many opinions on a subject without being as informed as possible. (I likely won’t post a long post about my thoughts when I do that simply because I don’t expect my opinions on purity culture to change much from re-reading an old book.) 

As someone who grew up in purity culture, this documentary just seemed condescending. He expressed the sentiment that “no one was forcing anyone to read this book” multiple times, only to finally admit closer to the end that “maybe some people were forced by their parents”. He regularly expressed that the reason his book became so harmful because of the way other people chose to use it, which doesn’t take ownership of the fact that he still was the one who gave them that tool. There were other books on the subject, sure, but none quite as well-known as his. And that makes him a leading voice on the subject, whether he wants to be or not. 

[thewadapan]

I rewrote the most infamous Transformers comic of all time.

I wanna give fair warning here. See, when I started working on this comic, I wasn’t really expecting it to turn out quite as dark as it did, and I suspect neither are you. After all, this is The Beast Within, right? The story where Grimlock goes crazy and talks in Comic Sans? How bad can things get? It turns out that - with just a few decisions made in poor taste - the answer is “very”, to the point where I feel the need to stick some kinda content warning at the top of this post. Unfortunately, I also feel like I’ve got a responsibility to the story, and there’s no way for me to do so without ruining it, so this is the best you’re gonna get.

This isn’t the first time I’ve made a comic like this. All the way back in 2016, I made “its christmas... so what??”, a kinda-bad re-lettering of a four-page ‘80s Marvel comic called “The Night the Transformers Saved Christmas”. I wasn’t too happy with the result, so half a year later I tried again - producing “PASS”, a re-lettered version of an obscure six-page UK-exclusive Marvel comic originally titled “Peace”.

“The Beast Within (My Pants)” is quite a different, uh, beast.

Each of the three comics I’ve produced was intended to be the last of its kind - standalone, yet fitting into the same overarching continuity. You can read any one of them alone, or you can read all of them in the order I made them. They’re individually available as albums on Imgur at the following links:

“its christmas... so what??”

“PASS”

“The Beast Within (My Pants)”

Alternatively, you can download the whole set as .cbz files - renamed .zip archives of images which you can open with a standard comic book reader.

It’s not too late to turn back.

Still with me? All caught up? Good. You’re probably wondering what the hell I was thinking...

I. I Have Summoned You Here For A Reason

Our story begins all the way back in 2004. The UK company Metrodome, looking to spice up their DVD box-set releases of the original ‘80s The Transformers cartoon, hired some local talent in the form of Mr. Jamieson (owner of a then-notable fansite) to write up some bonus features. They also commissioned him to write a mini-comic to be packed in with the set - with art by Mr. Gibson, a self-proclaimed fan since childhood with seemingly no other ties to the franchise.

The comic wound up being published in two parts (the second being subtitled “Consequences”) across the “Season 2 Part 2″ and “Seasons 3 and 4″ box sets. As a kid, I actually owned the latter of those box sets, and would watch it almost religiously - to what I can only assume must’ve been great annoyance from my poor parents - but I have no memory of it including a comic of any kind. Maybe it did, but it got separated at some point, and is lying around in some forgotten folder. A damn shame, that is. No, seriously.

I’m sure some record of the fan response at the time exists out there, in the doldrums of one of the many hard-to-search often-defunct forums which existed back then. I can’t really be bothered looking for it, sorry. You’ll have to content yourself with this TFWiki talk page for “The Beast Within” from mid-2007, which speaks of “Consequences” in hushed tones - as though it is a fabled artifact, prophesied to bring about Armageddon.

Another record - this one from 2009 - comes in the form of an eight-page TFW2005 thread ominously titled “Anyone afraid of the Dinobot combiner?” If you’re reading this commentary, you’re already strapped in for the long run; I recommend reading the thread in full. Well, okay, I don’t: it made me wince throughout, and I’ll be explaining the salient bits here, so there’s really no point subjecting yourself to it.

User “Razorrider”, after reading the TFWiki article on the Beast, opened the thread, noting “I don’t feel afraid of him myself.” The reactions soon started to pour in - some agreeing that the design was in fact “awesome”, others describing it as “hideous”.

Just going off my own personal opinion here, I think it’s fair to say that effectively nobody on the first page of the thread had any idea what they were talking about - and the pages that follow fared little better.

I think the main issue stemmed from the fact that a lot of those users didn’t think to explain the metrics by which they judged a “good” design (or, indeed, a “bad” story). When one person says “I think Optimus Prime has a good design”, they might just mean “I think he looks cool”, or they might mean “I think his proportions and colours give him a heroic stature which reflects his personality”. In that sense, a “good design” is one that communicates aspects of a character visually, even if it’s ugly. The Beast is hideous, yes, misshapen, yes, and it looks like the result of a teleportation accident, fine - but those are all intentional design decisions that perfectly reflect the nature of the character. In the foreword to the first part, Mr. Gibson notes the following (you’ll have to imagine that it’s written in Comic Sans for yourself):

Creating ‘The Beast’ was probably the most interesting aspect of the project. I wanted him to be a grotesque, twisted character that contained the design elements of the Dinobots he is created from.

People proclaim that the Beast “should never have existed” - a line from the comic’s narration, note - but somehow fail to realise that this is the comic’s own intent.

(Compare the Beast’s design to that posted by one user on the second page of the thread, which - minus an admittedly-inspired Triceratops-fist - just looks like an upscaled version of Grimlock.)

Okay, the alarm bells should be ringing in your head now. This is all starting to sound disturbingly like I’m some sort of The Beast Within apologist, isn’t it? How slippery is the slope that leads from “the Beast is a good design” to “The Beast Within is a good comic?” Have the hours spent poring over this thing in MS Paint turned my brain to mush, capable of only vague all-caps-Comic-Sans-penned ponderings?

...Well, yes, but- look, just stick with me!

The most accurate recurring statement in the thread - though perhaps not in the way it is intended - is that The Beast Within reads like a work of “fanfiction”. See, Transformers is a franchise with an ever-growing history, and many of those who work on it now have been lifelong fans themselves. This is true of many franchises which have stumbled into the new millennium, finding themselves seemingly unable to die. We live in an age of fanfiction - yet some fanfictions are fanfiction-ier than others.

When compared to the likes of Star Wars and Star Trek and Marvel’s comics, one sees a marked difference in Transformers. Throughout the ‘80s and ‘90s, every story Hasbro put out seemed to fit vaguely into a single guiding narrative - each distinct strand of their multimedia barrage falling into contradiction with one another, yet still seeking to adapt some underlying premise. The 2001 series Robots in Disguise - in the West at least - saw a complete departure from that narrative. The ramifications of that strange borderline-afterthought cartoon cannot be understated, yet in retrospect feel like they’ve been a part of the franchise for as long as anyone can remember.

Almost every year since, Hasbro has effectively wiped the slate clean. Each new series tries to be its own thing. Continuity between series - if it exists - is understated, ignored, or overwritten. To date, this is still something that confuses us geeks; so used are we to the mired pits that are the canons of Star Wars and its ilk. This can be frustrating - there are only so many times one can retread the same story - but so too has this rare cycle allowed authors to really explore the concepts and themes presented by the premise of “car robots” to a level of depth which I believe is simply unattainable in franchises which adhere stringently to a single narrative.

That’s the bright side.

In practise, many Transformers stories have become increasingly myopic - existing only in service of themselves, or (more often) in service of older (better?) stories. The single most influential of these stories is almost certainly 1986′s The Transformers: The Movie, and it’s that influence which is felt most strongly in The Beast Within.

Of the countless insights offered by Terry van Feleday - if you don’t know who that is, don’t worry, I’ll explain later - I find that this one rings most true:

When Optimus Prime du jour mouths off “One shall stand, one shall fall” for the twentieth time, there is simply no longer that understanding that he will not be the one who stands.

Where so many modern Transformers stories are misguided recreations of the animated movie, The Beast Within is a reaction to it. But we’ll get to that. First, let’s talk a little about the story’s artwork.

Mr. Gibson himself, I believe, deserves almost none of the criticism he’s received over the years for his work on this comic. Though his layouts are occasionally cluttered, and he does seem to have been trying a little too hard to emulate the style of Pat Lee (the man behind Dreamwave Productions; license holder for Transformers comics at the time) in the first part, his panels have a strong sense of energy and tone.

Though he didn’t exactly get to explore a broad range of emotions over the course of the comic, he managed to keep the characters expressive - always a challenge, when dealing with visors and mouthplates - and, crucially for a cast of this size, on-model. Look at the fury on Razorclaw’s face! The way Prime’s fist flies out of the panel! Menasor, torn in two! Predaking’s sundered legs! The mishmash of heads inside the Beast! The sickly colours of the second half! While it lacks the practised ease seen from some fans-turned-creators on more recent books, it’s still impressive work.

Regardless, Mr. Gibson’s first outing with Transformers proved to be his last. He didn’t end up getting paid work from Dreamwave Productions as he’d perhaps hoped (though in retrospect, neither did most of the people who illustrated for that company, so that was probably for the best). There’s no mention of The Beast Within on his personal website, which bills him as a “children’s picture book illustrator”, amongst other things. To put it simply, the guy’s always been a talented illustrator, and his style’s come a long way since this comic - the portfolio work on his website is very impressive.

(On a whim, I went back to late 2004 on the internet archive, and did in fact find the comic’s first spread buried at the back end of his portfolio. The entire website is a product of the early-2000s - there’s a link labelled “Go to Flash site” in the sidebar, though the page it takes you to sadly seems to have been lost to time. It all seems like it was borne of another age entirely.)

Anyway, let’s get back to that TFW2005 thread. The thing that makes it particularly notable is that, on the fourth page, Mr. Jamieson himself wades in to try and set the record straight. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

For a lot of people, I think, the idea of interacting with an author might seem strange. They’re aware of J.K. Rowling’s online antics, and are becoming increasingly comfortable with celebrity interactions on Twitter, sure. But there’s a difference between those kinds of interactions and the kind that take place on forums or in chatrooms - places where everyone’s on a level playing field. I come from those corners of the internet, and am lucky enough to have had conversations with lots of people who’ve made things I like, and have seen almost the full range of approaches those people take when dealing with their audiences. It’s safe to say that Mr. Jamieson’s approach in that decade-old thread is just about the worse one there is: over the course of just five posts, he smugly lashed out at the people in the thread, whipping them into a fervour that lasted for three more pages after his departure.

Regardless of whether or not Mr. Jamieson was correct - in the attacks he levelled at the other users, in the defence he offered for his work - there can be no question that this kind of behaviour is grossly inappropriate.

(Whether it is more or less appropriate than digging up old threads and archived web pages in an attempt to justify a bastardisation of a much-maligned comic book remains to be seen, I suppose.)

The key point that Mr. Jamieson kept returning to is that he sought to avoid the dreaded “info dump” (a hallmark of early Transformers stories), and didn’t want his readers to be “spoon fed”. A recurring criticism of the story is that it seems to begin halfway through, with little explanation for what’s going on - but I, like Mr. Jamieson, don’t think that complaint holds water. The Beast Within begins “in medias res” because we already have the context: eighty issues of a comic, ninety-eight episodes of a cartoon, and - crucially - a movie. Everyone knows the story of the Transformers, because the story of the Transformers - ironically enough - never really changes. “Is it ever really over, Jetfire?”

(That’s the last line of the original version of The Beast Within, by the way. I had to add the comma in myself.)

Like the impact of Robots in Disguise, the impact of The Transformers: The Movie is kinda hard to see unless you were there at the time - and I wasn’t - but in 1986, it did something which was profoundly shocking to thousands of children: it introduced them to death.

That’s about all I’m going to say about the movie itself, because much more experienced critics than me have already mined it for every ounce of subtext. I’ve already quoted the work of Terry van Feleday, who did some excellent scene-by-scene analysis of the film in a thread all the way back in 2010 - and I’ll come back to her writings a few times in this post. This very year, sorta-famous YouTuber hbomberguy released his own long-form take on the movie - what I find interesting when comparing the two interpretations is that van Feleday struggles to find much merit in the movie outside of its opening, while hbomberguy employs a reading that allows him to be much more optimistic and charitable even towards the end of the movie.

In a way, I think Mr. Jamieson had an intuitive subconscious understanding of the subtext which both of those critics later brought to light, an understanding which directly informed the premise of The Beast Within. In the same way one can read the monster planet Unicron as a physical manifestation of death, so too can one view the Beast - and Mr. Jamieson (almost certainly unconsciously) posits that, although death does not belong in a children’s cartoon, it is an inevitability that all children must eventually face. It is the dark spectre that lurks beneath the surface of every childish thing made by an adult.

An author places some of themselves in a book - but the reader withdraws something of their own perception as well. I wondered what I might see in the book: a child believes a lie because they know no better; a grown adult sees the lie because it fails to line up with experience. In this way, a child’s story could be so many different experiences. With enough subtext, a thing made for a child becomes an entirely different world to an adult. [...] There’s no telling when subtext will defeat the facade of a thing.

(I’ll tell you what that quote’s from later.)

I wonder, perhaps, if the endless swathes of edgy reimaginings of children’s stories are something of a mass outcry from those who grew up being told - every Saturday morning - that when people got blown apart, they’d be put back together by the next week’s end. What was it like for those children, in December of ‘86, to learn that some people could never be rebuilt?

II. It Pleases Me To Be The First

It occurs to me that I never did really do a commentary on “its christmas... so what??”, although I did talk about it a little in the commentary for “PASS”. Its title is a reference to the famous (well, you know what I mean) cover of “Stargazing” (issue #145 of the original UK run), which featured a banner reading “IT’S CHRISTMAS!” over an image of Starscream, arms out, yelling “SO WHAT?”

(Side note: at first I thought that I hadn’t read that particular story, but it occurs to me that as a kid I used to borrow a lot of Titan Books’ reprints from my local library - and I do in fact have distinct memories of reading Transformers: Second Generation, which did collect “Stargazing” amongst other Christmas stories - so I guess I probably did read it, even if I don’t remember doing so.)

The Women’s Day comic is something of a curio, as explained in this excellent article (which reprints the comic - with its original text - in full). It’s basically the only US strip which was published outside of the eighty issues of the run proper. This rare, standalone nature is something I have sought across every re-lettering I’ve done - from the UK annual-exclusive not-by-the-usual-author set-in-the-future “Peace” to the UK DVD-box-set-exclusive set-in-an-ambiguous-cartoon-inspired-continuity The Beast Within. These works feel like they’ve been lost to time - and corrupting them feels like unearthing buried treasure (and smearing it in turds). But I’ll get to that.

Back to “its christmas”. As I explained last time, I just went through the comic panel-by-panel and changed stuff to whatever I thought would be funny. I didn’t edit the two-line introductory blurb (which ended up informing the backstory detailed in the new set of AtoZ profiles). I barely paid attention to established portrayals of the characters beyond Soundwave’s association with music. I had no large-scale plans.

There’s a lazy (and poorly-conceived) gag where the little girl calls Bumblebee “gay” (also note that at the time, I misinterpreted the art in the third panel of the third page - I thought it was the girl speaking, when in fact it was her mother - leading to some erroneous dialogue), which in retrospect feels like a less-drawn-out version of the excruciating opening scene from Freddery McMahon’s Combiner Wars abridged special. That spoof somehow manages to be less funny than its source material, and I sometimes think that the same holds for my own creations.

Still, that’s not to say that “its christmas” doesn’t do anything that I like. I’ll admit that lines like “lol without mustard christmas will be CANCEL suck it nerds”, “toot toot here come some flutes”, and “help me drag it to the hospital” still kinda make me laugh. I like the way Bumblebee drowns out the little girl’s insults by tooting loudly at her. The final panels - wherein the humans steal Bumblebee’s blood as the other Transformers watch impassively - have an offbeat intensity to them, and when it came to writing Bumblebee’s AtoZ profile it was those which I chose to call back to.

If I had to sum up “its christmas” in a single word, I’d pick “childish”. The jokes, the characters themselves, the entire concept behind the comic - all feel kinda immature, and that was kinda by design. Summer Meme Sundae was a terrible piece of work, but - if I had to ascribe a theme to it - that theme would be growing up; realising that you’re running out of summer holidays. “PASS” and “The Beast Within (My Pants)” kept that atmosphere, but became increasingly cynical and obscene. That was just the natural direction they had to go in.

III. Every Place Reminds You Of Some Place Else

I’ve long had an idle fascination with abridged series, and have toyed with the thought of making an abridged series of my own. Most notably, I’ve long fancied the idea of abridging Machinima’s Prime Wars Trilogy of Transformers cartoons. Here’s an extract from a message I posted in Allspark Chat (the Discord server associated with the Allspark Forums):

I'd probably try and keep Megatron mostly the same as he is in the show as it is. Optimus'd be kinda murderous - you can tell he can't wait for Rodimus and the rest of the Council to kick the bucket so he can retake unilateral control over Cybertron. I'd maybe try to go for something of a more sympathetic Starscream - he wouldn't actually have any plan, he just has Cybertron's interests at heart and ends up trying to use the Enigma solely to rid the world of Megatron and Optimus forever. Windblade'd maybe be trying to force some hero's journey stuff - picking fights with progressively bigger opponents in a misguided attempt to prove her narrative worth

As pitches go, it’s not much. It doesn’t help that, as I previously mentioned, Freddery McMahon himself - pretty much the only name in Transformers abridging - has already tackled the series; his style of parody isn’t really to my taste, but his production value is fairly impressive and would largely overshadow any improvements I made on a script level. I feel like the Prime Wars Trilogy has potential, because it’s a fascinating piece of media, but I find myself unable to answer the question of how to parody something that already feels so much like self-parody. Sound familiar?

By the time the last entry in that series - Power of the Primes - was wrapping up, I'd been posting semi-frequently in the Allspark’s threads with a borderline-apologetic tone. Takes included:

The emptiness of Cybertron lends it a Beast Machines-esque tone

The Mistress of Flame’s death is cathartic

You can see right through the script

I want to get off Machinima’s wild ride

Wow, Windblade sure screams a lot, doesn’t she

The finale of Titans Return is good, actually

Hearing Megatron say “piss me off” is an unpleasant surprise

Hey, this soundtrack’s pretty good

Wait, no it’s not, but Galvatron’s implied reversion to Megatron is

Narrative emergence gives rise to Buddhist allegories in TFTM

Grimlock acts like his cartoon self - but only around friends

Okay, for realsies, the soundtrack’s good now

They’re right to kill Sludge; he’s the least toyetic Dinobot

I’d probably describe a lot of what I saw in the Prime Wars Trilogy as a kind of narrative pareidolia - only instead of seeing faces in inanimate objects, I was seeing value and meaning in an indefensible web series.

The problem with abridged series is that they require a ridiculous amount of effort. You need to be a good writer in the traditional sense, but you need to be able to work around the visual material available - you’re gonna have to edit everything yourself, you’re probably gonna need to do custom animation, and you’re certainly gonna need to wrangle a cast of voice actors. All of that for ten minutes of animation that’s probably gonna get taken off YouTube within ten minutes of upload. It’s just not feasible - and yet there’s part of me that loves the idea: commentary and content, all rolled into one.

To pretend that it was Combiner Wars that led me to create “The Beast Within (My Pants)” is a little misleading, however. The real answer - I’m sorry to say - has more to do with ponies.

See, every now and again I get very acute nostalgia for My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic, which was perhaps my first brush with fandom - or at least, proper fandom. It’s heard to measure these things, y’know? Anyway, when that happens, I realise that I don’t really want to sit and watch a cartoon for little girls, so I usually just listen to some fan-made music or - as was the case last time - rewatch one of the abridged series based on the show. I use the word “series” here in plural because there were in fact two (well, two that matter): Friendship is Witchcraft and The Mentally Advanced Series. There’s long been quiet debate over which of the two is the (soundwave) superior series, and I’ve historically believed that they’re (buy some) apples and oranges. The latter is a more thoughtful parody of the source material, while the former is more polished and standalone.

However, after blitzing through Friendship is Witchcraft once more in its entirety over the course of a couple of days, something about it clicked for me - a bigger-picture thesis - and I realised that it had much more to say about its source material than I (or, well, most people) had given it credit for. It was at that moment that I felt the awful urge to create a My Little Pony fanwork of my own.

(The quote I used earlier, about subtext in children’s stories, was spoken by Princess Celestia in Rainbow Dash Presents: The Star in Yellow, a Mentally Advanced Series special inspired by a fanfiction which, fittingly enough, was written by Matt Marshall (AKA Blueshift/blue/Yartek/RockLordsRock), who was also the man behind the infamous “JaAm” relettering which effectively inspired all of these projects of mine. It’s like poetry.)

As we’ve already established, making a fancy-schmancy animation was out of the question - but a crudely-edited-in-MS-Paint comic was the next best thing, clearly. I started glancing through IDW Publishing’s official My Little Pony comics - having purchased a few in a Humble Bundle many years ago - but, aside from a couple of promising stories, quickly realised I didn’t have much hope. The comics are just, to put it frankly, not as good or as interesting as the show, and the fact that I’d need to adapt at least two issues at once (over forty pages) to tell any complete story made doing so an unappetising prospect. Furthermore, IDW’s comics are still very much in print, and (as the abridged series show) any such parody would stand on shaky legal ground.

Seeing as I wasn’t about to delve into the dark realm of prose any time soon, and the idea of messing with some other fan’s work rubbed me the wrong way, I decided to give up on my equine dreams and instead turned back to more familiar territory. I glanced over the list of old Transformers Marvel comics, but nothing like those I’d previously relettered stood out to me. I perused the short stories included in Dreamwave’s 20th Anniversary Transformers Summer Special. I even looked into some Fun Publications stuff. Nothing sparked my interest.

Perhaps my most promising lead was “An Arcee Sort of Day”, a vaguely-maligned (as in, “meh”) three-page standalone comic released mere months ago by IDW as part of an anthology - but the poor resolution of the available scan (the comic had been released in its entirety as part of the free preview for the anthology) meant that editing it would be a nightmare, and there was very little in the way of dialogue for me to mess with besides. More than that, the idea of directly mocking a comic from a compilation designed to showcase female creators (particularly one featuring Arcee, who’s been a controversial character in recent years) struck me as tasteless in the extreme. If only I had an easier target!

Oh wait, I did.

IV. Let The Slaughter Begin

If I actually ever read both parts of The Beast Within before starting work on this project, I don’t remember doing so. I do remember reading the Beast’s TFWiki page when I was much younger, and remember feeling like the wiki’s take on the concept seemed disproportionately harsh. To be honest, it was quite vindicating to read the source material and discover that I still agreed with my younger self’s assessment - the problems with the story are not on a conceptual level, but in the execution.

I barely gave myself time to digest the story before diving in and working out how exactly I could mess it up. I knew from my previous comics that the Autobots would all be unrepentant shitheads, so the natural choice was to portray the Decepticons as favourably as possible. Where the Autobots are callous, poorly-spoken, stupid, and divided, the Decepticons would be caring, articulate, intelligent, and united. In the story’s context, these traits would be weaknesses: remember, only the Beast has the killing instinct needed for decisive victory in this endless children’s story. I also knew that everybody in the story would hate Grimlock, and that - unlike with Roadbuster in “PASS” - they’d be right to do so.

That was pretty much the extent of my planning. I gathered up all the pages and started clearing out the text from the speech bubbles. Already, I had something of a problem: the use of the infamous Comic Sans MS font in the first part of The Beast Within was one of its most iconic features, and I wanted to retain that, but my own previous reletterings had canonically established Times New Roman as the “voice” of the Autobots. In fact, as far as those older comics were concerned, Times New Roman was the voice not just of the whole Cybertronian race, but also of the narrator.

The only lines which used a different font were those where I’d chosen to retain the comic’s original lettering, and with Roadbuster’s dialogue. It’s hard to articulate what exactly the joke with Roadbuster was - he seemed like the odd-one-out in the opening panels of the story, so I ran with that by having him be persistently ostracised by the other Autobots. The twist, as you find out when he finally speaks, is that he seems to be the only Autobot who’s unambiguously a good person; the rest bully him for effectively no reason.

In the commentary for “PASS” I released earlier this year, I explicitly ask:

If these are the Autobots… then what were the Decepticons like?

My own gut feeling was, I think, that they were people like Roadbuster - genuinely good individuals who never wanted a fight - and so for this comic I knew I had to give them Roadbuster’s Arial voice. I also knew that I’d have to keep the Autobots’ Times New Roman voice for the most part. The only question, then, was what to do about Grimlock, the combiners, Jetfire, and the narration.

(It’s worth noting that Soundwave and Triton were both Decepticons too, yet they both spoke in Times New Roman. The Doylist reason for this is simply that, at the time, I was happy to have everyone share a voice. In Triton’s case, the Watsonian reason is that he’s trying to mimic the Autobots’ “accent” to better fit in. If I had to make up a reason for Soundwave, I’d say that he’s only recently defected from the Autobots, as a reference to van Feleday’s insane Soundwave-as-an-ex-prisoner-of-war theory. Had Soundwave had a speaking role in the comic, I’m sure I would’ve explored that backstory in his AtoZ profile - but alas, it wasn’t to be.)

In fact, there was initially some ambiguity over who the comic’s narrator would be - if I used Times New Roman, would I have to keep the voice of the same narrator as in the previous two comics? In the end, I decided to draw from my source material: the on-panel narration would be Grimlock’s inner monologue, rendered in full Comic Sans glory, while the "Interlude” would employ a more omniscient third-person voice. That third-person voice is, I think, distinct from the narrator of the previous comics, and feels like a more solemn version of the narrator of the AtoZ profiles I released alongside the commentary for “PASS” (or, indeed, the latest batch included here). Remember, I wrote the first two comics years before all of this recent material. More on the text-only pages later.

When he speaks out loud, Grimlock uses the regular Times New Roman of the other Autobots. In fact, the only dialogue which uses Comic Sans is that of the Beast, which I view as the true externalisation of Grimlock’s feelings. You can also view it as the “real world” (as depicted in the text-only pages) leaking through into the comic’s reality, in much the same way that an aware-of-death adult perspective seeps through into a seemingly-innocent children’s cartoon. The other combiners simply use a slightly bigger font than the individual Decepticons. Oh, and all of the combiners use red text.

In the original toyline, Jetfire was something of an odd-one-out, as he was really a Macross “VF-1S Super Valkyrie” toy licensed by Hasbro from Bandai (who had in turn purchased the molds from the recently-bankrupted Takatoku toys). Both Whirl and Roadbuster have similar origins. I was under no obligation to do anything special with Jetfire’s dialogue, but because of the way he’s introduced in the comic - and as a nod to his shared real-world history with Roadbuster - it felt right to give him his own voice. Though he still uses Times New Roman, the font is scaled up and he speaks entirely in capital letters. His dialogue was a challenge to write, as most of his speech bubbles are very small, but I think this worked out in my favour: his speech often ended up butting up against the bubbles’ outlines, giving the impression that he’s always speaking just a little bit too loudly.

The lettering in the first part of the original comic - aside from being technically legible - is generally shoddy on every level. For emphasis, it alternately uses italics or inconsistent font size. Occasionally, the dialogue switches to lowercase, which kinda gives the impression that everyone’s been shouting the whole time. Most of the text is left-aligned. Some bits of text seem to have been squashed. Most of the narration boxes are parallelograms, but some are plain rectangles. Red hand-lettered text is mostly limited to the combiners’ speech, but also sees use a couple of times for Megatron and Optimus Prime. Some of the combiners’ speech just uses normal red Comic Sans MS text. Meanwhile, the second part switches entirely to black hand-lettered text - presumably from Mr. Gibson - which is a marked improvement in terms of tone and consistency, if a step down in legibility.

It’s interesting to me that, despite my version of the comic sharing the dearth of commas and full stops which plagues the original, it reads very differently. For all its stylisation, it’s my hope that each line I write for these comics comes across realistically - not in the sense that it’s something you’d hear someone say, but perhaps in the sense that it’s something you’d maybe read on the internet. More on that later - first, some miscellaneous notes on the comic’s text:

When I first wrote it, I used the style of self-censorship from “PASS” (and, by extension, the rest of Summer Meme Sundae) wherein the first letter of any curse is replaced by an asterisk. It was one of my prereaders, Tindalos, who noted that “the censoring kinda takes a bit from it”, and I decided that I agreed with him - it felt like I was holding back. You can decide for yourself; I’ve collected the pages with lines that were revised between drafts in an album.

Through pure coincidence, it’s Springer (well, Bulkhead) who gets the first line of dialogue in the comic - just like in “PASS”. In case it’s not clear, the joke is that he thinks he’s safe on the floor and berates Jazz for not doing the same thing, seconds before getting stomped by Megatron. I think this sequence perfectly encapsulates a big part of what I wanted to show about the Autobots: they all criticise one another relentlessly, despite being deeply flawed themselves. It’s a dynamic that, to me at least, actually evokes that of the Autobots in Michael Bay’s movies.

The line “thats me grimlock in the corner losing my religion” is, of course, a reference to R.E.M.’s song “Losing My Religion”, which was itself included as part of writer James Roberts’ “soundtrack” for More Than Meets The Eye. Though he did not appear in the issue for which Roberts selected the song, Grimlock was a recurring character in that series. Hopefully my depiction of the character surpasses that one - though if you ask the people I usually talk to, I wouldn’t be setting the bar particularly high with that comparison.

Optimus uses the insult “grimdick” shortly after Grimlock’s narration provides the example “grimcock”. I intended this to show that, while the dynamic between the two’s been cemented for a good while, Grimlock is always a step behind and still can’t predict Prime’s actions.

Snarl’s line was originally “hey speak for yourself swoop me and grimlock are tight as *hit”, which expresses effectively the opposite sentiment to his final line. The idea that Snarl was okay with becoming part of the Beast was intended to add a bit of brevity to the sequence - but I decided it was better to keep as much emotional impact as possible in the moment.

A more minor change a couple of pages later is Grimlock’s line “how do they do it”, which replaced “love is stupid”. I wanted to expressly draw a parallel between the Beast’s combination and Predaking’s.

The line I’m happiest with is “eat shit megatron this is what you get for being such a fucking weapon”. One of my friends occasionally cracks out the word “weapon” to describe someone - and what better application for it is there than a guy who literally turns into a gun?

Megatron’s line about the “black hole” in Optimus Prime’s spark is a twist on Megatron’s own canonical link to a black hole - an aspect of his original bio which was revisited by Roberts.

I struggled to think of Menasor’s final words. The longer I stared at the panel where he gets torn in half - from which I’d already cleared the speech bubble - the more I was struck by the emptiness of the scene. If one considers Menasor to be a symbol for the Decepticons as a whole, then his silence in that panel is my way of showing that - from this point forth - the Decepticons no longer have a voice; the second part of the comic shows naught but their corpses. Death exists, and nothing is good any more.

None of the text on the final page of the first half remained unchanged between drafts. I wan’t happy with Optimus Prime’s original line at all, and the internal monologue “don’t you deserve happiness” felt a little too serious. The phrase “no u” is the archetypical low-effort comeback, and seemed like the perfect beat to end the first part with.

Prime’s line “gotta jettison some dead weight” is a nod to Astrotrain’s iconic line in The Transformers: The Movie: “Jettison some weight, or I’ll never make it to Cybertron.” I had to check for the exact quote just now and found “jettison transformers the movie” in my search history, so obviously I’d done the same when writing the panel. More than just being a trite reference, I was hoping to draw an obvious parallel and to contrast the unilateral decision Optimus Prime makes on the following page against the more shall-we-call-it-democratic process the Decepticons used in the movie.

I’m probably a little too proud of “big red irredeemable fucking monster of a robot semi fuck”, which is a line that could absolutely only exist in this travesty of a comic.

Jetfire’s use of the phrase “GOTTA BLAST” is a reference to a line spoken by the titular character of the early-2000s CGI cartoon Jimmy Neutron: Boy Genius, one which has turned into something of a meme. When I wrote the panel, I intended to imply that Jetfire was aiming to crash into the city - but I think it ended up doubling as foreshadowing for the fact that Jetfire flies his passengers into the sun. Additionally, the meme often sees use as innuendo, which shines through in the following panel: Jetfire expels propellant into the Beast’s face while Bumblebee remarks “gah okay i did not want to see that”. The less said about the sound effect “CHOOOM!”, the better.

Remember how all the text in the first part of the original comic was left-aligned? So’s the text in my version! MS Paint simply doesn’t have the option to change the alignment of your text - I actually had to throw in extra spaces at the start of each new line, eyeballing things until I had an approximation of centre alignment. This is something I never did with “PASS”, and I found that doing so gave me more freedom to squeeze more stuff into the speech bubbles.

As immortalised by countless memes, you can’t rotate text in MS Paint either. I tried to use this to my advantage on the comic’s first page, where the steps between the words in Grimlock’s narration give them a faltering quality.

Grimlock’s narration actually ended up being one of the most challenging parts of the comic to write. I wrote a draft of the first page pretty quickly, but decided I wasn’t happy with it and that I’d have to replace it later - which I did, but only after having written pretty much every single other bit of dialogue.

I think the central conceit of “PASS” - that somebody’s farted and the Autobots are trying to find out who dealt it - didn’t solidify until I reached the second page and looked at Rodimus Prime’s body language. In much the same way, the crux of “The Beast Within (My Pants)” didn’t solidify until it came to writing Swoop’s line.

V. Me Grimlock Not Nice Dino

At some point during the creation of “The Beast Within (My Pants)”, I started thinking a lot about incels.

(To be clear, this is the part of the commentary where things get a bit weird, and I start talking about storytelling decisions which I think were made in poor taste but which I don’t think come across overtly in the comic itself. Feel free to skip ahead to the next section. Or, y’know, stop reading entirely.)

Grimlock is childish, despite his age, and is desperate to be liked - no, respected - at any cost. His only asset is his BRUTE STRENGTH. He hates Prime, but wishes he was Prime. He has trouble treating any of the other Autobots like people. He rages against an outgroup whose ideals are - at least ostensibly - rooted in empathy.

I wouldn’t say “I wrote a comic where Grimlock is an incel”, because that’d be a pretty stupid thing to write and I’d feel pretty stupid saying it.

Looking back at a lot of my previous work on this blog, some things do crop up again and again. In abstract, I’d say that the idea of a character seeking friendship and/or respect - and failing to understand why they can’t find those things - is one that I’ve revisited a couple of times. This was a strong theme in the latter half of Another Son - a story which dealt heavily in misanthropy - which featured a character inspired by Sam Witwicky from Michael Bay’s Transformers. The protagonist of Retrace Steps spent the whole story unable to even ask the question “why am I alone”. Many of the characters in Are You Happy - particularly Mr. Hernandez - deal with similar problems to varying extents.

So this makes, what, practically four stories in a row? I didn’t set out to approach things this way again with this comic, but from the moment I wrote Swoop’s line I knew I didn’t have a choice. When people talk about the Beast’s combination sequence, they talk about how violative it appears. Metal tentacles spring from Grimlock like one of Alien’s chestbursters, penetrating or melding with the other Dinobots’ bodies. After that, the resulting monstrosity ambles around, horrifically murdering its former peers. As much as I can have the characters in the story play this stuff off for laughs, I’ll never be able to erase the undercurrent.

This isn’t supposed to be a direct mapping - a perfect metaphor - and by the time this commentary’s done I hope I’ll have pointed in the direction of some alternate perspectives. It just seems important to put my cards on the table and say that, when I was working on this comic, this is the kinda thing I was thinking about. We thought children were safe with Transformers, and then a gun came and shot people they cared about, and for some reason we were surprised to see that they got upset.

With all of that in mind, I take some solace in the fact that I actually found getting into Grimlock’s head to be extremely difficult. His dialogue was a breeze to write, sure - that’s the outsider’s perspective - but actually trying to construct his thoughts in anything approximating a convincing manner was very difficult. The first draft of his narration literally included the phrase “we live in a society”.

VI. Such Heroic Nonsense

I’ve already touched on Terry van Feleday’s opus a couple of times, but I think it’s worth delving a little deeper into how exactly her analysis influenced this comic. For some reason the idea that nearly five-hundred pages of borderline-conspiracy-theorist-level ramblings about perhaps the most maligned movie franchise of the 21st century might be a tough sell is one which I can’t quite wrap my head around. I’d say that it’s because I’ve read the thing and already know that it’s good, but in truth I was pretty much sold from the moment I found out it existed.

Anyway, I frequently get into not-quite-arguments with internet strangers about Transformers, and during those discussions I frequently find myself saying “a good Transformers story should do X”, and then I have to resist the urge to add “like Michael Bay’s movies” because doing so would completely delegitimise the point I’m trying to make. The problem is that, because I’m deliberately omitting the context of my opinions, they come across as being even more bizarre.

I think that same problem exists in some capacity with this comic, where I’m drawing on sources which are intuitive to me but completely alien even to a typical Transformers fan. I’ve yet to even mention the other primary inspiration for this story, which is even more arcane.

Perhaps it’s important to stress that van Feleday doesn’t offer a typical "theres actually zero difference between good & bad things. you imbecile. you fucking moron" take. Rather - and I realise I’m about to butcher this - she shows how the humans in Bay’s movies give increasing amounts of power to an alien cult leader because their only alternative is to get wiped out by an alien warlord. So in terms of this comic, “Autobots bad” is very much rooted in her reading of those movies, while “Decepticons good” is just something I thought would be funny.

Well, not exactly. I’ve already mentioned Combiner Wars; something that continues to baffle pretty much everyone who watched that show (and its sequels) is that, while it seems to have no idea what it’s doing most of the time, its portrayal of Megatron is an absolute riot. He is absolutely the protagonist of that series, the Only Sane Man in a world of bizarre psychotic caricatures. I think the same kinda holds in the continuity of my comic, only he’s had more time to bring the people he takes in around to his way of thinking.

Let’s not forget the official “good-is-bad” continuity of Shattered Glass, which - while heavily compromised - was the source of many interesting reinterpretations of popular characters. Effective reinterpretations require you to forget what you know about a character and strip them back to the core signifiers, which you can then put to different use. One of the posters in Terry van Feleday’s thread, “Lobok”, observes:

I like the idea that Bay or the writers looked at Optimus Prime and thought "What would a guy who calls himself that really act like?" Imagine you knew or heard of someone, a human, who called themselves the equivalent of "The #1 Bestest Superior" or "King Supreme Ultimate" - do you not picture either a 7-year old boy or a mentally deficient oo-rah alpha male? Maybe the two combined? Seems much more apt than a wise, noble father figure.

Of the course, I don’t for a second think that Michael Bay had any such thought - but the connection still exists for the audience to make. Therein lies one of the greatest unspoken strengths of Transformers storytelling: the sheer breadth and depth of the signifiers at play. Much of what van Feleday did in her thread was to boil down the concepts found in Transformers stories to reveal those core signifiers.

(Almost a year ago, I wrote a piece for the Refined Robot Co. blog which explored some of her findings by delving into the subtextual meanings of the countless alternate modes worn by Megatron over the years.)

By the same token, I think there’s something to be said for the way Grimlock’s alternate mode ties into his portrayal in my take on The Beast Within. He turns into a dinosaur - something which is rooted in the past, extinct, unable to develop - while most of the other Autobots turn into modern vehicles. Kids may love dinosaurs, but they’ll likely grow up to have a stronger interest in cars or tanks. Grimlock is immature almost to the point of childishness; his beast mode is the lizard king, and he doesn’t understand why you won’t bow.

(Obviously I’m making some big generalisations here for the sake of a point - the other Dinobots have their own prehistoric disguises, and kids’ interests develop in varied enough ways that perhaps this link is only noticeable to those who experienced the transition I describe. When I was much younger, I was obsessed with dinosaurs, and would consume all the dinosaur-related media I could get my hands on. Eventually, however, my crippling fear of sea monsters led me to stop reading books about them - I'd turn the page, see a full-spread painting of a pliosaur taking a bite out of a pterodactyl, and shit my pants. Okay, no, that’s a huge exaggeration: more likely it just got to the point where I knew basically all of the cool dinosaur facts already, and suddenly the deep lore of the grim darkness of the 41st millennium or whatever seemed way cooler. I just find it funnier to imagine that my prosperous future in paleontology was averted for fear that I’d discover the last living specimen of a plesiosaur.)

VII. Where’d You Learn To Talk Like That

Back in “PASS”, I think there was some question as to who exactly was the coolest dude; the biggest guy. Rodimus was in charge, but the others didn’t really respect his authority in the end. Although Triton was an underdog in that story, he wasn’t at the bottom of the pack - no, that role went to Roadbuster. Everyone seems to like Ultra Magnus, but it’s never really made clear as to why that is.

Grimlock’s personality and role within the Autobots was pretty much the first thing I solidified when it came to writing “The Beast Within (My Pants)”. I knew that he was the lowest of the low; the nail in every Autobot’s tyre. As Grimlock evolved, so too did Optimus Prime - the second-most-prominent character in the comic. "The #1 Bestest Superior" became a murderous jock, and the Autobots became his cult of personality.

Speaking of cults of personality, I’ve been posting regularly in the Homestuck Discord server since November of last year. There’s no other place like it on the internet, and - truth be told - I’m not sure any explanation of it I could provide would suffice. The server was created by some guy called Makin - at least, we're pretty sure he’s a guy - who nobody’s ever met but who seems to have an uncanny knack for managing online communities.

Major events in that server have been comprehensively catalogued since July of 2017 by long-standing moderator “Drew Linky” in his journal Several People Are Typing. Between the entries and the related materials, it’s probably around half a million words in length. There’s no other document like it on the internet.

For the first fifty or so pages, Drew had no intention of making his document public. Apparently, one of the reasons he wrote it in the first place was as a way of holding Makin accountable - the guy used to be (and sometimes still is) a bit of an ass. Now, I wasn’t around in 2017, so I can’t really comment on the accuracy of the document’s early entries - but as a newcomer I was struck by how different Drew’s depiction of the server was to my own experience there. If I had to guess, I’d say his style of prose and the cherry-picked nature of the document make it seem like a much more hostile place than it actually is.

In particular, Makin effectively starts out as journal’s main villain (alongside various problem users and Homestuck creators) - a capricious and unknowable entity with absolute power over the server - and many of the entries deal in some way with what users jokingly refer to as his “redemption arc”. Of course, in reality, he’s just some guy, and everyone knows that real people don’t have character arcs.

I still haven’t finished reading SPAT, but I was doing so around the time when I was working on the comic. At some point I started to draw parallels between my bizarro version of Optimus Prime and the journal’s bizarro version of Makin, and I decided to play them up. Much of Prime’s dialogue is inspired by Makin’s style of speech, using phrases like “shut the fuck up”, “nobody cares”, “holy shit”, “get fucked”, “lmao”, “literally”, “literally [...] who”, “guys”, “rational” and “you’re welcome”. I just checked and at the time of writing, with the exception of “literally who” and “you’re welcome”, he’s used every one of those phrases within the last week. Oh, and while the word “suckers” isn’t really a Makin quote, in Homestuck it’s associated with the not-quite-biggest-bad evil empress. It bears mentioning again that the complete lack of punctuation in the comic’s dialogue mirrors the most common style of typing I see online, where people drop their capital letters and full stops.

(In fairness, a lot of us kinda talk the same way in that server. I remember one time Makin said “I also need to worry about lmao becoming some kind of anime catchphrase for me”, which cut pretty deep as I’ve been overusing that phrase instead of “lol” or “haha” or whatever for ages. Look, it’s just a funny word to me: in my head I pronounce it “luh-mayo” instead of “el-em-ay-oh”. Like “I throw my sandwich in the air sometimes / saying aaay-oh / I ordered maaayo...”)

In the comic, the self-aggrandising Optimus Prime is hostile and dismissive to those around him. It might all be a front, but it might not. Even though Grimlock hates Optimus, the Dinobot seems to agree with him a lot of the time, and the narrative itself never really manages to conclusively condemn his actions. The name “Optimus” echoes the word “optimise”; so frequently thrown around in rationalist circles. One could even go so far as to say that Optimus Prime’s ultimate goal in the comic is to kill death-in-the-form-of-a-shitposter.

In seriousness, I’m drawing these comparisons in a pretty tongue-in-cheek way. I don’t actually think that the Homestuck Discord server is a cult of personality - even if, to check the user-contributed “SPAT Epilogues”, some of its populace seem determined to behave like it is. Even if this section of this commentary exists. At the end of the day, I’m gonna write what I know, and I like to think that I know a little about online communities and what happens when they go wrong. I wish I could say that “The Beast Within (My Pants)” is a cautionary tale to that effect, but in truth I don’t think it offers any conclusive answers in the same way that “PASS” perhaps did. “Only worry about the opinions of people who actually care about you,” maybe? “Death is an abomination and we shouldn’t let it anywhere near our kids”, perhaps? “You can’t force other people to like you”?

“You can’t force other people to like the things you made”?

VIII. Burnt-Out Toaster Ovens

In the re-released version of “PASS”, it seemed right to throw in something in the way of extra content. I had fond memories of the Seacon profiles published alongside the original “Peace”, and lifted the format to create short bios for all sixteen characters who appeared in the comic. These fitted neatly on a four-by-four spread (though I ended up merging Topspin and Twin Twist’s profiles and throwing in an extra one for Computron, who did not appear in the comic proper).

From the start, I knew I wanted to do something similar for “The Beast Within (My Pants)”. In fact, I already had two text-only pages to work with; each part of the original comic was prefaced with a prose introduction and a note from Mr. Gibson. I decided that I could rework the text-only pages and add another spread of profiles, using the freedom granted by prose to explain away many of the comic’s oddities.

It took me some time to carefully erase the existing text from the scans that I had, using nothing but the brush tool in MS Paint. It took me even more time to work out some potential approaches to take with the text itself. Eventually, I came up with the following ideas:

A flashback depicting Grimlock and Swoop’s breakup.

A conversation between Grimlock and Jazz (or, perhaps, Slash).

“How Ratchet Got His Head Back”, the interlude which I ended up using.

A synopsis of events between “its christmas... so what??” and “The Beast Within (My Pants)”, which ended up being my first stab at the introduction.

Some in-character commentary as Mr. Gibson, which I did end up including.

From the moment I conceived it, I was pretty set on “How Ratchet Got His Head Back”, and it ended up being a breeze to write. I didn’t end up getting a chance to squeeze in the title - a reference to an issue of More than Meets the Eye - as it didn’t really fit the original format of the page. The introduction, on the other hand, proved much more challenging. My main problem was that, were I to preface the story with a text page, I’d be asking them to read a bunch of probably-mostly-serious words before allowing them to read the comic proper. Not the best first impression!

Nonetheless, I gave it a go - you can read my first attempt in the album of the draft pages. It mostly served to lay out the continuity between my three comics. Rodimus Prime’s crew were abandoned on Cybertron by Optimus Prime (presumably Hot Rod changed his name in Optimus’ absence). Megatron, Optimus and their crews crash-landed on Earth, and millions of years later the events of “its christmas... so what??” occurred. Meanwhile on Cybertron, it took a few million years for the other Autobots to wipe out the remaining Decepticons, as seen in “PASS”. Humanity was wiped out by Optimus in retribution for their transgression (a nod to Mr. Gibson’s depiction of Earth as an empty wasteland), prompting the conflict seen in “The Beast Within (My Pants)”. Much of this timeline remains implicit in the final version of the comic.

When I wrote it, I was pretty happy with the way this information was conveyed in the first draft. It was the ever-ardent Gitaxian - one of my long-time prereaders - who made me realise just what a mistake I’d made:

Something was rubbing me the wrong way about that first prose page and I finally realized what it is / Expositing that Optimus is horrible right off the bat takes away a good chunk of the impact the comic had before you added it

He was right. My prereaders’ initial response to the comic was that Optimus Prime’s motivations were completely opaque, and I overcorrected, not realising that his inscrutability was one of the things that made him interesting. You kinda want him to behave like the Optimus Prime you know and love, but he keeps doing weird things and you never really find out why.

Suddenly, I was back at square one - no closer to having a clear idea of how to introduce the comic. Another of my prereaders, gearshift, had the solution:

It's Transformers or some shit. You've seen the cartoon right? The one with the tape guy? Yeah, the tape guy is barely in this one. What do you mean no sale? Look, fuck, it's got the dinosaur guy. He's right on the goddamn cover, you like the dinosaur guy right? Yeah, that's what I thought.

Bitch.

I liked her pitch because it seemed like it’d do a good job of filtering out readers who wouldn’t enjoy the comic. To quote Alexander Wales, author of Worth the Candle:

I kind of hate blurbs and taglines, especially for something so large and varied as Worth the Candle / My ideal synopsis would tell people what kind of story it was without actually telling them that much about the story; it would select for all the people who would fall in love with the story, and select against all the people who would find it a waste of time. / How to actually write that ... I've got no idea.

(Side note: I’m one of the people who fell in love with that story, to the point where I’ll use any opportunity to recommend it to others. It’s maybe my favourite thing written by anyone ever.)

A closely-related issue is that of content warnings: so far as I’ve been able to work out, there is no warning which I can give for “The Beast Within (My Pants)” which adequately selects against people who won’t like it while also preserving its conceptual twists and avoiding colouring the audience’s interpretation.

Getting back to the actual content of the introduction - I wound up writing less than I would’ve liked, leaving the page looking a little sparse, but hopefully making things easier for the reader. There’s relatively little to talk about in the way of trivia here. When I wrote the phrase “cut right to the spectacles” I was probably thinking of Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Cut To The Feeling”. When I mentioned “moist towelettes” I was probably thinking of Hawthorne Wipes. The phrase “truth time” was an iconic - to me, and literally no-one else in existence - line spoken by the trolling narrator of a crack story written by a high school friend of mine, the energy of which I feel like I’ve always been channelling with these comics.

The interlude, on the other hand, is crammed full of references and was a breeze to write. It was the first piece of prose I completed for the project. In general, I was trying to write in a verbose style that would be simultaneously at odds with the bulk of the issue and reminiscent of the prose of veteran Transformers scribe Simon Furman. He was known for using certain distinctive phrases repeatedly in his writing - one such phrase being “like some vast, predatory bird”. The phrase “neither sufficient inclination nor wingspan” is supposed to subtly evoke another Furmanism: “CANNOT, WILL NOT”.

In all likelihood, the interlude would not have existed had I not noticed that Ratchet’s head was in its cartoon colours in the first part of the story, but in its Marvel colours for the second. I had the idea to explain that error away in story - tying into the general schtick of “correcting” the comic - and did so by way of a reference to Ratchet’s original toy, which had a sticker with a face on it behind the windshield rather than a proper head. I was also determined to highlight the fact that Predaking’s legs remain standing for like three pages; I think this minor detail in the artwork is pretty indicative of the fact that Mr. Gibson did a good job.

The way Swoop’s contribution to the combiner is described as “puny” ties nicely to the history established between him and Grimlock in his profile. I like the way the Beast tries to hit Optimus Prime with a “truck-sized fist”. The “antimemetic shielding” was my attempt to explain the recurring disappearances of Optimus Prime’s trailer in a novel way - I did so by namedropping the key phrase from qntm’s There Is No Antimemetics Division; the trailer’s there, you just can’t perceive it and forget that it exists. Finally, “dull surprise” refers to the vague expressions that characterised Dreamwave’s house style.

For the most part, I was able to retain the ordering of the pages as in the original comic, to keep things print-friendly. The one exception to this is the prose page for the second part, which I unfortunately had to move forward so that its cover could fall across a spread. The original comics must’ve included something in the way of backmatter - art cards, perhaps, or adverts - which made up the space.

The huge cast of The Beast Within made creating a profile for every character an impossible task (especially when so many are just crowd-fillers like some of the Technobots were in “PASS”) - but it was perfectly possible to provide one for each non-combiner character with a speaking role.

(If you’ll indulge me in one last barely-relevant tangent as we head into the final stretch of this commentary, there are some rather odd inclusions/omissions in The Beast Within. On the Autobot side, pretty much every 1984-1985 character appears, with the exceptions of Trailbreaker, Hoist, Tracks, Smokescreen, Grapple, Beachcomber, Seaspray, Perceptor and Omega Supreme. The Autobot combiner teams are absent with the odd exception of Silverbolt. Twin Twist - who had been pretty much entirely absent from the original US fiction - makes an odd appearance without his partner Topspin. Steeljaw is the only one of the four 1986 Autobot cassettes to appear. Meanwhile, on the Decepticon side, oddities include the toy-inspired versions of Viewfinder and Spectro (most of the rest of the cast use cartoon-inspired character models) and the omissions of Spyglass and Buzzsaw. Some Decepticon combiner team members - Motormaster, Wildrider, Breakdown, Blast Off and Swindle - only appear in combined form. Just two of the four 1986 triple changers - Springer and Octane - appear in the comic, looking slightly out-of-place in a cast consisting mostly of characters present in the first two seasons of the cartoon. Oh, and the Deluxe Vehicles and Deluxe Insecticons are absent, but that’s to be expected in a cartoon-inspired setting.)

Here’s the first draft of Optimus Prime’s profile:

Unpredictable. Unstoppable. Unrepentant. Many words have been used to describe OPTIMUS PRIME, yet the abrasive leader of the Autobots remains something of an enigma even amongst his followers. He has ruled Cybertron for many millenia, by dint of the fact that he's apparently the only Cybertronian with a shred of competence.

It’s a product of the time where I wanted to really flesh out Optimus Prime and communicate his thoughts clearly to the audience, and as such is pretty blunt with how it characterises him. The final version is a little more subtle, drawing in elements of the scrapped introduction. I figure I may as well go through the other profiles one-by-one to give a sense for what I was thinking:

Megatron initially had a much more personal bio - which seems to have been lost to time - but I wound up cutting much of it to make space for elements of the story’s scrapped introduction.

Starscream draws inspiration from van Feleday’s interpretation of the character - she posited that Michael Bay’s version of the character was actually the Decepticon most loyal to Megatron. The contrast between that interpretation and pretty much every other in the franchise’s history (excluding Shattered Glass Starscream, of course) is pretty funny to me. I tried to use the phrase “fools errands” in as benign a way as possible, which I felt evoked a more traditional relationship between him and Megatron. “Starscream, you fool!”

Razorclaw has little in the way of characterisation in the comic beyond “noble warrior”, and his profile is a wholesale reference to The Chronicles of Narnia: he stands in for Aslan; the rest of the Predacons for the Pevensie siblings. So yes, this version of Razorclaw is a Christ-like figure. As for the witch... maybe Blackarachnia? Eh, who cares. Oh, and the idea of combining with a dead bot was one which cropped up a few times in IDW’s comics, most notably with the Combaticons in Mairghread Scott’s Till All Are One.

Onslaught was in a similar boat to Razorclaw. I found myself drawing from Till All Are One once more, hinting at a (complicated?) romance between him and another teammate.

Blitzwing has only one speaking role in the comic - a shared line with Megatron and Starscream - but I decided to count it for the sake of having a nice set of sixteen characters once more. In Transformers Animated, Blitzwing had multiple personalities, and would change forms depending on which was in control. This interpretation of the character has seen plenty of criticism, so I deliberately tried to come up with something new. I quickly settled upon the idea of tying his vehicle forms to his mood, a metaphor which seemed to dovetail nicely with the way aerial alternate forms were treated in “PASS” and which also allowed me to cement the Decepticons’ supportiveness.

Bulkhead was borne of the realisation that Springer appears prominently in both “Peace” and The Beast Within. This inconsistency is entirely the product of my decision to place my versions of those comics in the same continuity, and I decided to correct it in the tradition of “Bluster” and “Firster Aid” by having them be two separate (but related) characters. I named the new Springer after Energon Bulkhead, who was inspired by “Generation 1″ Springer - the name’s since been used more prominently by an Animated-original character and variations thereof, and is effectively fair game for “Generation 1″ stories. His actual characterisation was inspired by Springer’s behaviour in “PASS” - I liked the idea that Bulkhead bullied Springer, and Springer bullied everyone else in turn. Oh, and I wanted to tie their helicopter modes back to Blitzwing’s profile on a thematic level.

Bumblebee is the only character from “its christmas... so what??” to recur with a speaking role in “The Beast Within (My Pants)”. After scrapping the original introduction I’d planned for the comic, I was left with a single profile to bridge the gap between the two stories. My original idea was that, for their negligence in allowing the humans to steal Bumblebee’s blood, Prowl, Tracks, and Hoist would have been executed by Optimus Prime - though I’m sure he didn’t pull the trigger himself, it’s safe to assume that he didn’t warn them before setting off the nukes.

Ratchet has a characterisation inspired by something “Jonny Angel” posted in van Feleday’s thread: “Ratchet is an ambulance who practices no medicine”.

Jazz is an extremely prominent character in the comic, despite the fact that his only line is a scream in the opening panel. The comic relies on the wider context of the brand to let the audience be invested in him, but in a vacuum it’s kinda funny to see the Autobots fret so much over an effective nobody. Pretty much the entire joke in my version is just a reference to Ryan Gosling’s misguided quest to “save jazz” in La La Land - some of his character’s lines are lifted wholesale to comprise Jazz’s profile, which takes pains to avoid using any kind of pronouns (thereby maintaining the confusion over whether or not “Jazz” refers to the character or the music genre). His profile was the first I wrote.

Ironhide has a role amongst the Autobots loosely inspired by that of Drew Linky (or at least, the version of Drew Linky presented by SPAT) in the Homestuck Discord. I thought there was some symmetry there with Ironhide’s history in IDW Publishing’s comics.

Skids was a tricky character to portray, but ultimately his profile turned out to be one of the ones I’m happiest with. It’s kind of a loose riff on his portrayal towards the back end of James Roberts’ stories, where much of his arc revolved around his relationship with Nautica. According to Word of God, he had unrequited feelings for her - I decided to amp this up by giving him unrequited feelings for everyone. To tie this back to Homestuck, think Eridan/Cronus. Oh, and in terms of the Homestuck Discord server, think your typical hornyposter (and then follow the implications through in terms of Optimus Prime/Makin). The actual name “Skids Maximus” is a play on the way the suffix “Maximus” has historically been used for some combiners, “Optimus Maximus” in particular. I’m convinced I’m not the first person to do a joke like that, but nobody I asked could think of any older examples.

Grimlock was fleshed out pretty well by the comic itself, so I took his profile as an opportunity to expand upon the history of the Dinobots. I saw them as being akin to a group of friends who stuck together throughout school, winding up as an impenetrably toxic and incestuous mess with a ton of deep lore. In a way, there was a time when I was the Grimlock of my group of friends... but we all grew up.

Swoop is Grimlock’s ex-partner, a concept inspired by the other Dinobot combiner we all wish we could forget about. I’m pretty happy with the use of the word “bottom” in this context.

Snarl is based on a combination of various people I’ve known in real life - people who are perfectly nice and reasonable but have zero patience around certain other individuals. From the outside, it’s behaviour that comes across as pretty damn harsh, but - and please note that this is not an endorsement of such behaviour - it’s usually the product of a long period of aggravations.

Jetfire was the last character introduced in the comic, so it felt fitting to save his profile until last. His biography is effectively a mashup of his portrayals in the original cartoon (where he gets frozen in the Arctic Circle) and in Revenge of the Fallen (where he was a Seeker who wound up on Earth), a combination which neatly parallels Bay’s Megatron’s origins. It also references J.J. Abram’s infamous “mystery box” storytelling device, which I intended to mirror the offbeat lack of closure in the comic itself.

The final challenge I faced - one which had hounded me throughout the development of the comic - was what exactly to title it. Titles considered included:

“The BEE” (Tindalos’ suggestion)

“The BEE Within”

“The REEEE Within”

“SHIT” (Gitaxian’s suggestion)

“IM THE BEAST”

“AWWW SHIT” (Fear or Courage’s suggestion)

“AW SHIT ITS THE BEAST”

None of these resonated. Then, almost a whole month later, out of nowhere:

This was the entirety of Daniel111111222222’s contribution to the story - and what a contribution it was.

There were several reasons why I loved his idea. Firstly, it was easy to edit: most of the other suggestions would’ve required me to move lots of letters around, while this one would simply require me to append a few. More importantly, it felt like the title of a Chuck Tingle novel.

The subtitle for the second part - “No Pants” - seemed like a natural choice after that, the idea being that it evokes Grimlock’s inhibitions falling away with his transformation into the Beast. It narrowly edged out “Pants Off”, which I managed to squeeze into the final version of the introduction.

The parentheses in the comic’s title were my own addition, and in retrospect I kinda regret them. They seemed like a good idea at the time, but I’m not sure why. I was wrong to try and improve upon perfection.

IX. Why Throw Away Your Life So Recklessly

So far, the bulk of this commentary has mostly focused on the aspects of this project which I think went pretty well. In a way, that's probably fair enough, because - on balance - I'm pretty happy with how it turned out.

At the same time, I can't help feeling that “PASS” - a comic which I probably threw together in the space of one day two years ago - is both funnier and more meaningful than the one which I spent a couple of weeks on.

When I started working on “The Beast Within (My Pants)” towards the beginning of May, I expected to have the project finished and out of the door by the end of the month. If you glance at the release dates of the various things I made, you'll see that I like to put out major projects on the last day of a month - it's a way of setting myself a deadline and it lets me associate a given project with a given period of time.

My first draft of the dialogue was released to prereaders on the 11th of May; my second on the 13th. Around that point, exam season started to kick in and I decided to prioritise to other projects - the Retrace Steps commentary and the Are You Happy retrospective - which both ballooned out into much longer pieces than I'd planned. I successfully met my self-imposed deadline for those projects and pushed back the release date for the comic to the end of June. I released the first drafts of the text-only pages on the 9th, but the profiles didn't follow until the 24th. By the time you read this, I'll have been working on the project on-and-off for over three months; despite the fact that I was ostensibly on vacation for most of that time, I was somehow busier than I tend to be at university.

For context, it took me just four months to adapt Retrace Steps from a short film script to a webcomic (well, “webcomic”), and that was a process which actually required original artwork. At the time I noted that I needed to re-evaluate the way I approached commentaries, as the amount of time required to produce one of a high standard seemed only to increase - they're extremely valuable to me, and seem to be well-received by the few who read them, but are they justifiable if they take longer to create than the things they comment on?

All of this is my long-winded way of saying that I've probably spent more time thinking about The Beast Within than the vast majority of people who know about it, and that I kinda regret that. See, in the sense that The Beast Within provokes a visceral emotional reaction, it’s a “good comic” - but so too does a punch to the face. The Beast Within is not a good comic. It’s mean and deconstructive and poorly-done. My version is borne of contrarianism and hubris, and softens the blow not one bit.

At the time when I was writing Grimlock's dialogue, I found that my own typing style was becoming increasingly acidic.

The truth is that “PASS” is probably the most successful thing I have ever made, and I wanted to make a comic which would put it to shame, and I failed miserably. In fact, I feel like I’ve made something which only I could ever enjoy. It’s derivative in the extreme. As my deadline for this project drew closer, I resorted to drafting bits of the commentary on my phone in public, and at one point somebody idly asked me what I was writing, and - after failing to think of a convincing lie - I said something along the lines of “it’s kinda a long story, and I wouldn’t enjoy telling it, and you wouldn’t enjoy hearing about it”. They seemed perfectly satisfied by that answer, but I wasn’t.

Must we justify the things we create? Mr. Jamieson’s attitude seemed to be to say ��screw you, I don’t have to justify myself to stupid people” (while pointing at everybody else in the room). My attitude, as evinced by this commentary, has been to justify every aspect of everything I make in excruciating detail, so that if you tell me “I don’t like X” I can say “I already explained why I thought X was a good idea” and you can say “well you were wrong” and I can say “maybe”.

You’ve probably twigged that, throughout this commentary, I’ve referred to the creators of The Beast Within only by second name. At first, perhaps, it came across as some mark of mocking respect - like citing a scientific source - but the real reason is cowardice, not confidence. Some people occasionally put their own names into Google. There’s a couple of people to whom I really don’t want to have to justify myself.

Over a decade after the release of the The Beast Within, Hasbro released a brand new set of Dinobot toys which combined to form Volcanicus. The creators of the Prime Wars Trilogy and of the Earth Wars mobile game gleefully included the new combiner in their stories, and the fandom at large embraced it wholeheartedly.

As her thread drew to a close, Terry van Feleday wrote something which I think about often:

Of course [...] let’s not forget that no matter the amount of earnest work put into something, sometimes it just turns out shit. There’s a strange perception I noticed in critical response where people seem to find it difficult to consider something both earnest or satirical and, well, not very well made. Sucker Punch can’t be an honest indictment of cinematic objectification and a somewhat poorly conceived, almost hypocritical attempt at being more clever than you should. Transformers can’t be an inversion of the traditional hero/villain narrative showcasing the effects of authoritarian propaganda and a meandering, under-focused, often poorly communicated, destructive mess. Maybe it’s a strange entertainment-version of the Just World Fallacy where lacking results must necessarily result from lacking effort, or maybe it’s modern audiences’ strange worship of subversiveness, where a work critical of old tropes must by default be better than the works it’s commenting on throwing to the dustbin of history, but either way, people are extremely resistant to the idea that films they found emotionally dissatisfying could express depth and meaning and tend to dismiss them as another ‘genre film’.

Mr. Gibson is a children’s picture book illustrator. The Beast has no place on his website.

X. Proceed On Your Way To Oblivion

TFNation - the UK’s biggest Transformers convention - has become something of an annual pilgrimage for me, and (as of the time of writing) I’ll be making that pilgrimage in a matter of days. If you see me there, feel free to come over and punch me. Or, y’know, just say hi. I’ll have some limited-edition printed copies of “PASS” to give out. For more information on that - and for infrequent Transformers-related musings and updates on future projects - wander on over to my twitter!

What are those future projects? Well, after the convention I’m planning to release an original short story. It’s not very good, but it’s got a few stylistic similarities to this comic (read: lots of swearing). I might have a little bit in the way of Transformers prose coming out down the line, but can’t really elaborate further on the form that’ll take. I’ve been planning to get back to Huskyquest for ages, and hopefully I’ll finally be able to do so once I settle back down at university. After that, I plan to focus my efforts on prose, so you may as well expect more radio silence from me.

If you’ve made it to the end of this almost-fifteen-thousand-word monstrosity, you, uhh... win all my internet points? Sorry, that’s all I have.

Remind me never to do this again.

[tomasorban]

THE ZODIAC: CAPRICORN THE GOAT

Date of Rulership: 21st December-19th January; Polarity: Negative, female; Quality: Cardinal; Ruling planet: Saturn; Element: Earth; Body part: Knees, Joints, Bones; Colour: Black, dark grey, and brown; Gemstone: Turquoise, Amethyst; Metal: Lead.

Following on from Sagittarius, Capricorn is a sign that is immensely focused on how developments made in various disciplines like science, economy, law, and psychology can be used to improve living standards, raise collective consciousness, and foster a powerful society that runs as quickly and efficiently as a Japanese bullet train or a Swiss Rado watch. The Goat possesses the memory of a Tibetan monk, or rather an Indian elephant and its intuition extends far, far back before the conscious will crawled its way out of the primordial sludge. Interestingly, everything about this primitive state of chaos unsettles and scares the Goat. In fact lack of structure and organization, whether on a personal level or a collective level, induces psychological complexes within the Capricornian psyche that may drive it over the edge. In light of this, one can begin to understand this star sign’s compulsion and obsession with developing systems that tabulate and organise information into coherent hierarchies, raising and enforcing social standards and laws, and encouraging individuals to turn their passions and interests into full-time careers. According to the Goat, compartmentalization is a must; how will contemporary society function effectively, grow, and prosper without specialists to put forth broad-based models and inspired leaders to assess their levels of practicality and decide whether or not they should be implemented. Capricorns are innately good at taking on the comprehensive responsibilities of such collective ventures for they are naturally born leaders and committed ones at that.    

People born under the stars of this constellation are usually of an intellectual adroitness beyond their actual years. A personalized form of the Capricornian formative energy might be a three year to four year-old toddler with a very high IQ. Have you ever watched one in action in a kindergarten playground? These little mischievous angels are masters of manipulation. They loiter about sizing other kids up, figuring out what makes them tick, and subsequently flicking on the mental switches that will elicit complete acceptance, veneration, respect, and affinity on their part. Moreover, they also love the power that comes with positions of elevated status and authority and will always pick roles where they are able to order everyone around and be the centre of attention. The wisdom and insight pervading these little beings carry is extraordinary; they learn and identify what behaviours are encouraged and rewarded by parents, teachers, and other adults and will cunningly adopt them for the sake of obtaining what they want. Mature Capricorns very much like mischievous children with very high IQs. They are creatures of atypical restraint and a calculated, cautious temperament that can use their charm, wit and infective cheerfulness to ascend the wrungs of the social ladder and miraculously leave the people they mingled with to get there feeling cherished and esteemed. This talent serves them especially well in professional endeavours whereby expertise, skill level, and personality provide the requisite ammunition in catapulting an employee to the top of the pecking order. The Goat wants to please and to be pleased; a mutually satisfying situation it hopes will assist in its plans to achieve widescale success.    

If we were to attach a Jungian archetype to this star sign it would definitely be The Perfectionist. Mediocrity, poor performance, procrastination, and indolence are non-existent in the Capricornian language and dictionary. The Goat expects much of others and even more of itself, a characteristic which sometimes proves beneficial and sometimes detrimental. It gravitates towards and gels well with those who are equally ambitious, driven, conscientious, and tunnel-visioned but can intimidate meeker and more submissive character types that lack focus, aspirations, and long-term goals. Generating a vision that will contribute something valuable to the society in which it lives and slowly lighting the hermetic fires that will bring it to fruition is big on its lifelong list of things-to-do. Lamentably, a motivated Capricorn can become so fixated on achieving success in all areas of his or her life–finance, love, and professional career–that he or she becomes merciless, indifferent, and as unyielding as a piece of sandalwood trapped between two giant boulders. Unlike a great many that capitulate to the ideals of political correctness, Capricorn is not afraid to employ disciplinary action against inferiors that persistently transgress.

Being a cardinal sign Capricorn is no stranger to activity, fast-paced rhythms, and spirited involvement.  The Goat prefers to circumnavigate the world over and over and over until its limbs drop off rather than remain motionless and caged up in some suburban neighbourhood. It likes to be in constant motion physically, mentally, and intellectually; it wants to be creative and innovative in adding to its chosen field of inquiry but at the same time it yearns for recognition, honour and vindication as validation of these valuable contributions. Just as the sure-footed mountain goat can persevere in traversing precipitous terrain that other animals wouldn’t go anywhere near for fear of plunging to their deaths, so too does the Capricorn soul exude inner strength and resilience in the face of adversity. Unlike some of the other members of the zodiac which give up prematurely or won’t even try for fear of failure, Capricorn will keep chipping away at a foot of a megalithic problem until so much of it is underrun that it collapses in on itself. Of course there are times when the Goat’s unrelenting efforts don’t pay off and this can create psychological torture that leads to bitterness, depression, neurosis, and even psychosis if the condition remains unaddressed. An afflicted Goat can become so riddled by insecurities, self-doubts, and psychological hindrances that it will invert its own social nature and seek solace in escapist activities like daydreaming, reading romance fiction, playing computer games, and watching movies.

“What doesn’t hurt you will only make you stronger!” the resilient Capricorn shouts. “You must endure pain, suffering, and symbolic death during the course of your life in order to become the person you were meant to be. Life is all about improving the world in which we live and adding to it in a constructive manner. Hence there is no room for laziness, lawlessness, or immoralities. The world is our only home. What good would it be to us if it were an asymmetrical place of anarchy, confusion, and absurdity? Everybody needs to have a meaningful role in society that contributes to the harmonious functioning of the whole. Look at bees, for instance. Their society is a sort of autonomous monarchy comprised of drones, female workers, and the queen herself. All these little beings are intensely aware of their position and function in the hierarchy and adhere to it like the universe adheres to the laws of physics. They are all as assiduous as each other and we would do well to borrow and implement the same approach. Success in life comes through industry, focus, and hard yakka (hard work) folks; nothing more, nothing less.

Some people say that I resemble the winter solstice in that I’m sometimes cold and chilly, reserved, and rather impersonal in my dealings with others. This is not my true self, but rather an iron armour or shell which the contingencies of life have forced upon me. I’m a realist so I’d be the first to admit that the world can be a cruel and nasty place. Even though most wouldn’t admit to such, self-interest happens to be a primary urge amongst human beings and their tireless search for validation usually entails a confrontation with the less flattering attributes of the collective temperament. Hence it’s important to put up psychic defences that will guard your soft, squishy, and sensitive interior at all times. The human soul, my friends, is an abyss of human sentiments, and mine is no different. I will sing, dance, cry, laugh, and share intimate details of my life with individuals who manage to gain my love and complete trust, namely those that are going places and doing exciting things with themselves.  As you know, I’m a sucker for security, attention, and status and the best way to get it is to be around those VIPs best able to open doors and facilitate it. I’m not an elitist in any way, but relationships built on synthetically constructed dependencies are an outgrowth of the Western culture in which we are born and raised. We need to work with that rather than against it for the sake of acquiring what we want!”

Capricorn the Goat is connected to two symbols that link the constellation with the reascention of the sun from its seasonal slumber. The first of these is a terrestrial goat or goat-fish crossbreed that has its iconographical origins in the ancient civilization of Mesopotamia. This is depicted morphologically as a sea monster; sometimes as a hybrid goat-fish with the four limbs of a goat and a fish tail and at other times as a sea goat with the posterior of a serpent. Most early cultures perceived that their collective histories were woven into the heavenly constellations and the Sumerians were no different.  Foremost of the symbols belonging to the Sumerian god Enki were a goat and a fish, both of which had amalgamated into the astrological totem we recognise today by the second millennium bce. Originally, Capricorn probably descried an early matriarchal situation of the Middle East in which the earliest monolithic structures of Babylon rose vertically out of a semi-arid breadth of shallow lagoons, reed banks, mud flats, and marshes. The horns of the goat were celestial markers for Mesopotamia’s two principle cities, Babylon and Nineveh; the first was built along the river Euphrates and the second along the Tigris, respectively.

Constructed during the Ptolemaic Period (323-30bce) of Egypt’s illustrious history, the circular and rectangular zodiacs in the Temple of Hathor at Denderah bequeath to us the ancient zodiacal pictograms for the twelve signs. A fleeting glace will show that the vast majority of these have remained largely unchanged. With respect to the Capricorn constellation, the zodiacal band on the circular Denderah zodiac shows the figure of a goat with two legs adjoined to the rear end and tail of a fish. Though the signs and figures of the sky represented on these chronometers express a markedly Chaldean and Hellenistic influence, we can be sure that the autochthonous Egyptians explicitly understood the celestial zone and functional image of the sign as a marker of astronomical rebirth and solar reascent because demotic representations show an ankh, the symbol of life, and an aquatic tadpole with its hindquarters on solid ground (the inverse of the sea-goat image). Hence the Egyptians may have been aware of the twelvefold division of the zodiacal band way before Babylonian cosmogony merged with that of their own under a Hellenistic patina.

The Greeks themselves, who borrowed leisurely from Chaldean astrology, forged an association with their god Pan and with Zeus’s foster mother Amalthea. According to a cycle of Hellenistic myths that chronicle the Titanomachy, a ten-year war between the fearsome Titans and the renowned Olympians, the horned goat-god Pan fought the monster Typhon. In order to evade detection and escape unscathed, he dove into the tepid waters of the Nile. The section of the river into which Pan jumped encompassed magical properties and instigated a physiological transformation upon anything it came into contact with. Thus the parts that were submerged in water, namely his lower body and legs, morphed into a fish whilst his head and upper torso remained unchanged. On the other hand Amalthea was the she-goat that suckled the infant Zeus in a grotto of Mount Aigaion on the Mediterranean island of Crete. In order to save him from being cannibalised by his own father Cronus, Amalthea gathered the Kouretes, the armed and crested dancers of the earth, and prompted them to create an aural bedlam as to mask the cries of the infant.

The second symbol, an astrological shorthand used by astrologers in the casting of horoscopes, is a squiggle comprised of curves, a loop, and sometimes a straight line that could be interpreted as the goat’s horns. Looking at the variant forms of the Capricorn sigil, it is easy to see how the zodiacal imagery was appropriated to create a much simpler and rudimentary illustration recalling the Capricorn’s dualistic nature and primary ambition. With half of its being in the watery chaos of other worlds and dimensions and the other half trotting on three-dimensional and material notions of solid ground, Capricorn wishes to find a balance between the ethereal and material and the sigil no doubt demonstrates this. There are many sayings associated with Capricorn, the best known being that time itself would end when its cluster of stars huddled above the horizon. This sentiment probably has its origins in the fact that the sun transits this section of the zodiacal band at a time when the formative forces of Mother Nature are at the weakest, as well as in the perception that Saturn, the deity intimately connected with cosmic law and the mediation of time, was exalted in this sign.

In the northern hemisphere the constellation of Capricorn appears in the night sky at the time when the solar orb has descended to the nethermost regions of its celestial journey, also known as the winter solstice. Many cultures of the world such as those of the Far East have interpreted this time as the astronomical resurrection of the annual cycle, and therefore a marker for the New Year. This was usually a just and prosperous period which might be equated with a Golden Age when the earth gave back to its mortal children abundance by sending down the rains and offering up a good harvest. It’s probably no surprise that the ruler of this sign, Saturn or the Greek Cronus, holds a sheaf of corn in one hand and a sickle in the other. Together these symbols denote an earned condition of fecundity, justice, and strength which so often comes when one is patient, diligent and perseveres in their chosen field of physical or intellectual inquiry. Taking into consideration the time of the year in which the sun traverses its domain, its earthly, cardinal nature along with its planetary ruler, it would not be unjustified to claim that the Capricorn psyche is honourable, self-disciplined, ambitious, and grounded with partial participation in mystical and speculative philosophy. Just as the astrological pictogram suggests, Capricorn is a very versatile sign once it has completely evolved and can switch from a worldly and ambitious extroversion to a spiritual and contemplative introversion in the manner that nymphs, the larvae of dragonflies, will desert their aquatic environment and transition to an avian mode of existence upon reaching adulthood. Consequently Capricorn’s formative energies reconcile the conscious and sure-footed will with its intuitive and psychic origins, the somnolent unconscious.

[lycorogue]

So I FINALLY watched Oblivio... and I have thoughts....

First of all.... just... EEEEEEEEEEEE! I mean, I know that the whole episode was basically voided out by the end because of the Miraculous Ladybugs, but still.... EEEEEEEE

Also... this ended up getting pretty long, and I don’t like flooding people’s dashes with long posts if I can help it. The TL;DR version is that I love the caliber of writing used in this episode, and I hope the writers keep up with this standard. Yes, people may be salty because it’s a tease, and the events basically null out at the end, and the reason for Oblivio to be akumatized is kind of lame, especially considering it’s DJWifi, but all-in-all, this was by far one of my favorite episodes of the series.

For all of my thoughts and reasons why I loved this episode, check below the break.

Marinette is so badass in this episode, and I love how much it showcases her strategic mind. Adrien was determined to kill me before the episode was through. Plagg is a bit of a self-centered coward, but he’s also further proving why he’s my favorite. Tikki has some of the most agency showcased all series. DJWifi is terrifyingly adorable. The comradery of the class is so heart-warming. Finally, amnesia episodes are fun “what if” scenarios if done well, and I think this one was.

“Looks like you and I were at the same costume party.” “We must shop at the same jewelry store!” Adrien, sweety, honey, darling, you are just too precious! XD

Marinette again calling Tikki a “bug mouse” and Adrien again calling Plagg a “genie” was beautiful! <3 I love the call-back! I also love how Marinette again cowered with a very “WTF” mindset, while Adrien once more cupped Plagg in his hands; perfectly calm and excited to see the kwamis. <3 <3 <3

So, I get it that the “phone -> turtle” drawing was supposed to mean “Call Fu”, but did anyone else get that it was also a nod to who Oblivio was? Alya being the phone and Nino also being the turtle.

I LOOOOVE the unity of DJWifi, even if it was a joint-akuma. It just shows how in sync they are. Plus, even their banter was equally true regardless of who said it, such as “You remember your BFF, Oblivio, don’t you?” I mean, I know they don’t realize how true that statement is, because they don’t know who LB and CN are, but... still... perfect.

“I’m not convinced this monster is really our best friend.”  XD Adrien... Adrien stop. Please stop. Holy crap, stop! XDDDD

The fact that Adrien, without any memories, is still an instinctive protector... I <3 this kid so much!

Adrien bowing when he “meets” Marinette, and her return curtsy was just too cute. I love these dorks! And I love how we get to see how they would actually be around each other if they just got out of their own way. I mean, that blush when their hands touch as they both try to lock the bathroom stall? Precious. The way Adrien was BEAMING as he complimented Marinette as being “someone who always has the right idea at the right time.” Adorable. How Adrien moved to help Marinette out of the air duct just as she leaps out, and she topples him, and they both jump back in mild embarrassment after snuggling on the floor for a second or two? Magical!

Plagg justifying everything he does around the Camembert! XD He likes to make sure he’s my favorite character, doesn’t he?

Marinette, sweety, how is it NOW is when you come up with the idea of breathing on Adrien’s phone to figure out how to unlock it? Where was that ingenuity back during Copycat? XDDD

Can we talk about the fact that Adrien has his bodyguard listed in his phone as simply “G.” ???? XDDDD Holy crap, you guys! Also... going back to the episode Copycat, we know Adrien had Gabriel listed as “Father” (technically, it was “Pere”)... sooooo, did Adrien downgrade his father? Did he become so disconnected that he changed the listing to “Gabriel Agreste”? Also.... no one else has their last name listed, so why is he using his FATHER’S last name in the listing? To be fair, Marinette doesn’t have her parents listed as “Mom” and “Dad/Papa” either. So maybe they learned to put their parents’ names into their phone in case someone else has to call them during an emergency? I know that’s why my own mother is listed by her name with ICE after it (In Case of Emergency).

While it was strongly implied with episodes like Anansi, I love that this episode confirmed that Adrien and Marinette did indeed exchange phone numbers since Copycat. <3

The call-back to the ML anime PV being a canonical feature-length film about the duo was fantastic, and the fact that Marinette recognized the costumes and was able to piece together instantly that it’s her and Adrien was brilliant! 

The fact that Marinette having a glamour shot of Adrien as her phone backdrop, and Adrien having dozens of pictures of Ladybug in his phone gallery had them believe they’re dating is hilarious! Like, seriously, kiddos! Also.... why didn’t they find it weird that Adrien ONLY had pictures of Ladybug and NOT Marinette? A bit odd if they’re dating, no? (Alternatively, you could argue the same about Marinette not having CN photos, but you could write that off as her not wanting to accidentally reveal that her boyfriend is a superhero...)

“Then we must have told each other everything. I couldn’t hide my identity from the girl I love.” Adrien, you are going to kill me. You are attempting to murder me. Why? WHYYYYYYYY!?!??!?! Also, it’s adorable that you already figured out again that you love her. I mean... <3 <3 <3 Also also.... coming on a BIT strong there, Romeo! You JUST figured out “you’re dating” and you drop the L-word on poor Marinette? If she could remember that moment she would also die.

Just.... just Adrien’s beaming pride that he gets to be around Marinette this whole episode, and all of his soft looks. The kid may lay it on a bit thick, but holy crow, if she didn’t realize her love for him like Adrien did for her, HOW COULD SHE NOT FALL FOR HIM AGAIN DURING THIS EPISODE!? Like, geeeeeeez!

I love how Marinette had her normal “Ladybug Vision” shots to figure out the phone decoy, but the items just didn’t light up in the traditional red and black spots since she was out of costume. Instead, they were gray with pink dots, to match her coat! Beautiful! Brilliant! This further confirms that this is just Marinette being brilliant instead of a side-effect of the super powers. (Yes, she used the “LB Vision” when her powers were nullified in Sandboy, but still... further and definitive proof)

Also... the jackass picture drawn on the post-it note! Savage!

GUYS! ADRIEN HAD “LB Vision” TOO! He had “Adrien Vision”! AND IT WAS AMAZING!!!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Okay... Adrien’s cardboard box Chat Noir costume!? How friggen precious was that!? And the fact that he EVEN MADE A FRIGGEN TAIL AND BELL!? How extra can this boy be!? If/when I have a child, I hope to god they’re just like Adrien! <3 You precious, over-the-top, nerd of a child! 

Speaking of his cardboard costume.... HOW QUICKLY DID HE THROW THAT COSTUME TOGETHER!? LIKE, WHAT!?!?!?! Granted, no one actually adheres to proper 5-minute countdown timing in this show, considering LB zipped away from the building nearly SEVEN minutes after accidentally triggering her Lucky Charm, and she HAD to have taken at least a minute to run up to the roof in the first place, but still.... HOW THE HELL DID HE COVER HIMSELF IN TAPE, CUT OUT CAT EARS, DRAW ON THE FRIGGEN POCKETS AND CENTER ZIPPER TO DECORATE THE DAMN THING, MAKE A FRIGGEN TAIL AND PAPER-BALL BELL, PUT THE COSTUME ON, AND MAKE IT TO THE ROOF IN TIME TO SAVE LB? That was like... 15 seconds of screen time!

Backtracking to the “Marinette Vision” solution to avoid Oblivio until they figured out how to transform again, how brilliant was Marinette to give Tikki the mug? First of all, she could create that coffee trail, secondly, since Tikki was holding something she’d have to remain tangible while opening the door to the floor below. This, in particular, seemed quite a brilliant move, since Tikki accidentally phased through the elevator doors before. It is quite possible that either (a) Tikki doesn’t remember how to remain solid when pushing against something, (b) Marinette doesn’t realize Tikki can control it, or (c) a happy combination of both. Regardless of WHY Marinette did it, the fact that she trusted that Tikki holding an object would HAVE to keep her tangible, and therefore could press the lever to open the door, was so clever! A+

“Thanks, but I don’t feel like a superhero at all.” “You’ve already proven that you are one, with or without costume.” Adrien, you precious, darling child! <3

THERE ARE FRIGGEN EMERGENCY USERS GUIDES!? LIKE, WHAT!? Okay, that was a bit Deus ex Machina, but it works...

Marinette’s freak-out over the accidental activation of her Lucky Charm was fantastic!

MARINETTE, YOU IDIOT, YOU MISSED HIS LIPS AGAIN! WHAT IS IT WITH YOU KISSING HIS LEFT CHEEK INSTEAD!?!?!?! (Also, how great would it have been if that somehow jogged his memory by reminding him of Mari kissing him at the end of Mayura?)

I LOVE THAT SHE’S HAVING FUN BEING A SUPERHERO THIS TIME! She was so timid and unsure of herself in Origins, it’s fantastic to see this confident girl (thanks in part to Adrien) trying out her powers for “the first time” and having fun with them! 

Plagg being utterly confused as to what’s happening to him as Adrien calls out “Plagg, Claws Out!” is amazing and beautiful and makes me love Plagg even more! Poor dear! <3

Adrien still calling Marinette “M’lady” simply because he was trying to cover up accidentally calling her by her actual name. So great!

“Okay, I’ve got no idea what the Hakuna Matata is, but I trust you.” Adrien! Stooooooop! I’m dying!!!!!!

Guys! Guys! Guys! People can be merged together to create an akumatized villain!!!! I know I touched upon this above when I mentioned how in sync DJWifi were, but this is amazing! I wouldn’t have thought as much, especially since Alya’s twin sisters, arguing over ONE item, were EACH turned into a Sapotis, and they couldn’t have been more unified. Alya’s twin sisters basically have Hive Mind. So the fact that they were EACH a copy of the akumatized supervillain sharing the same akumatized object, and yet DJWifi MERGED.... like... I could write a whole post just talking about THAT!

THE KISSSSSSSSS! THE FRIGGEN LADYNOIR KISS! AND THERE WAS NO “BREAKING A SPELL” ELEMENT, AND IT WAS BEAUTIFUL. AND THEIR HANDS SLOWLY TIGHTENING AS THEY KISSED; NOT WANTING TO LET GO OF THE OTHER. AND THE KISS WAS LIKE 15 SECONDS LONG! IT WAS BEAUTIFUL AND PERFECT AND WONDERFUL AND THE FACT THAT ALYA IMMORTALIZED IT MADE THIS WHOLE EPISODE WORTH WHILE, AND EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!

Alya: “Uh, Ladybug? Cat Noir?” CN (unblinking that DJWifi are alone with them on the roof): “Guys! You haven’t seen a supervillain named Oblivio, have you?” Nino: “You’ve defeated it already, dude.” Alya: “Actually, he was... us.” LB & CN (in unison and completely accepting of that fact): “Oh. Okay. Pound it? Pound it!” These dorks!

THE LOOK ON LADYNOIR’S FACES WHEN THEY SAW ALYA’S PICTURE!!!!!! <3 <3 <3

Alya: “Remember when we visited Montparnasse Tower?” Oh.... you mean the tower YOU GUYS ARE STILL VISITING!? Nooooo.... >_> They don’t remember it at all. Thanks, Oblivio.... -_-

Okay, can we talk about the reason DJWifi became Oblivio? Because... WHAT!? First of all, they are on a field trip and decided to sneak off to a walk-in closet to.... play a game on one of their tablets? Seriously? And they were caught just before they kissed.... I mean, I know it’s a children’s show, and we saw a flashback still of them playing the game, but are we SUUUUUURE they weren’t about to play “Seven Minutes in Heaven” in there????? Secondly, Nino says “You guys make fun of us for playing that game, saying it wasn’t our age and all.” But then a bunch of kids in their class confess to either playing it or wanting to start playing it. Including Mylene, who tells them “everyone loves that game.” Sooooooo.... two things here: (1) were they REALLY being made fun of for playing that game like Nino claimed, and (2) why was Gentle Giant Ivan part of the flashback shot of classmates laughing at the discovered couple? He doesn’t seem to be the one to tease and bully, plus his girlfriend likes the game. Since it’s established as a great game for couples because you have to find “the right partner” (and Rose backs this idea up by saying she plays with Juleka), it’s a decent guess that Ivan plays with Mylene. So.... what is going on with Nino’s recollection of what happened???? Third, it doesn’t seem like them to sneak off from the class simply to play a game... again, I’m thinking more was going on there (get on that, other fanfic writers). Finally, they got jointly akumatized because they were embarrassed that their classmates found out they play a “kid’s game”? Really? REALLY!? Nino and Alya were each akumatized for much more devastating reasons originally. Do they really care THAT MUCH!? I call foul on this akumatization, as much as I love the rest of the episode.

Adrien finally showcases more of his EQUAL FOOTING with Marinette (ya know, as a partner; not a sidekick), by leading her to the bathroom in the first place, coming up with them trying to signal for help from an empty office suite, coming up with the plan of creating the diversion so they could sneak out using the emergency stairs, helping LB figure out that her Lucky Charms are just HINTS at how to stop the akuma, and making sure his identity is hidden via his cardboard box costume so Ladybug wasn’t fighting alone. Basically, if he stopped using his time to either try to woo ML or protect her like a shield, he could prove himself as more than just a “sidekick-like” superhero. He could truly be more of a partner. He has potential he hasn’t tapped into, or potential Marinette hasn’t allowed him to utilize due to CN “screwing around” a lot of the time. Heck, even in the footage of them getting hit, he clearly joked about them being a couple again.

Marinette: “I can’t believe it! I. Actually. Kissed. Cat. Noir! How could this have happened?” Tikki: “Who knows? Maybe you still have some things to learn about him.” Tikki, you sly bitch! XD You know full well that CN and Adrien are the same guy! I love you, even when you infuriate me. XDDDD

Adrien moping for all of 3seconds about LB “finally falling in love” with him, only for him to forget the experience, and her forgetting her feelings. Plagg’s mocking about how unlucky he is (because I love snarky Plagg). And finally, Adrien, the silver-lining sunshine boy that he is, noting that he now has hope. If she could fall for him once, she could possibly do so again. These kids are going to kill me.

I love this episode sooooooooo much! We got to see so much potential in this episode. We got hints of so many new factors to this universe. And there is a sort of souvenir of the episode, so it isn’t ENTIRELY for nothing. (I can’t wait for some sort of call-back to that kiss!) For me, a fanfic writer, this episode is GREAT for fodder. I can use it as a reference point of how these two morons would act if they just got over their nerves and acted as a true couple. <3

9/10!

[natpeabct]

i’m not creative

How ineffective “creative” pedagogy can lead to self doubt

My first Creative Technologies (CT) experience occurred before I even enrolled. I had a lot hinged on this course. My options were to drop everything and move up from Dunedin, or to continue rolling pizza dough full time. However, my arms were getting tired.

Open day seemed necessary. I had to be certain moving to Auckland would be worth it, and CT was not a traditional course. Trying to explain it to family and friends only made me realise how little I understood. The vague CT presentation didn’t silence my screaming doubts and burning questions, instead left me feeling inadequate and anxious. My confidence sunk even further when a list of CT traits was displayed. Contrastingly, my parents felt reassured as they believed that I fitted this archetype. Given the nature of CT, it makes sense that the presentation was ambiguous. To be otherwise would contradict the essence of creativity and CT. My feelings after the presentation were perpetuated by the single insistent thought of “I’m not creative”.

New Zealand filmmaker and artist Taika Waititi defines creativity as “having fun, looking at life through the lens of a child” (Ted X Talks, 2010). Prior to CT I felt as though creativity was binary, you either had it or not. When I thought of creative people, I thought of my free spirited, accomplished artistic friends. I had constructed a stereotype that creative people looked a certain way and produced unique creations, ignoring that creativity is a way of thinking without restriction, and child-like curious exploration. So why was it I felt this way? What influences have made me feel uncreative?

Personally, I believe it was a traditional education system that didn’t foster curiosity and student directed self-discovery. Harris (2016) affirms that learning and teaching practices are responsible for fuelling creativity and the networks that support it (as cited in De Bruin & Harris, 2017). My primary school experience consisted mainly of a transmissional approach to teaching which I found disengaging. For example, we were still being read to in Year 5, while we were capable of exploring our own interests and literary worlds. This is particularly dangerous considering the important formative stages of Year 5. Disinterest for reading may arise if the chosen text doesn’t resonate with them and agency over their reading is not fostered. How can primary school facilitate creativity while still adhering to National Standards? I believe that all primary teachers should encourage curiosity by treating every question, suggestion, answer and comment as valuable. When posed with outlandish questions, “I’m not sure, good thinking” should be replaced with “I’m not sure, let's find out”. Students feel valued when the teacher is humble and willing to learn alongside them, while autocracy is detrimental to a child's creativity (Lin, 2011).

The church was another major authoritative influence in my childhood. An unattributed proverb states, “the fish will be the last to discover water”, meaning when constantly immersed in something, they will know no difference. Church, for me, was a place full of doubt. Ultimate biblical statements were indoctrinated through light-hearted innocent media such as the animated talking Tomato called Bob. The lack of research suggests that we ignore the danger in teaching such existential topics to children in such a mollified way. However, Ennew (2006) says “spiritual-abuse” can subtly occur when adults “devalue children’s appreciation of awe, wonder, and imagination; making faith strictly cerebral” (as cited in Segura-April, 2016). This reflects my feelings as a child at church. There was little room to be curious as the sacred Bible had all the definite answers. How and when certain topics are introduced need to be examined, to avoid raising generations of doubtful children. I believe that when dealing with significant topics such as creation, afterlife and punishment of sins, children should be intellectually capable of having critical discussion. Adults must be willing to converse with curious doubtful children, and share the historical context that the Bible was written in and the inherent “Mystery of Faith”. Being definitive about such topics leads to indoctrination, which consequently extinguishes creativity.

As I developed a more critical mindset, school and church became less daunting. I met certain teachers who had the humility to foster my curiosity - most notably an old, strict chemistry teacher from New York. This teacher, as old-school and blunt as he was, would answer every question with equal attention. On the occasions where the answers were uncertain or non-existent, he would make the effort to research and learn about the topic alongside students. Not only did this facilitate students curiosity, but it also humanised the teacher. He effectively enabled his students and allowed us to learn from each other, authority was exercised in a manner of mutual respect, and humility. This was effective teaching because my teacher sort wisdom from his students and was aware of his own uncertainties. Students are enabled in classroom environments where questions are encouraged, they will have freedom to explore and deepening their understanding of the curriculum.  However, it is important for teachers not to view thoughtful questions, challenging or clarifications personally (Waks, 2018). If we continue to measure the performance of schools and teachers on pass rates, then teachers will solely focus on the curriculum. This creates a culture where all learning must be “by the book”. A teacher saying “don’t worry, it’s not in the exam” exemplifies the pressures put on teachers by senior management to produce strong pass rates. High school teaches us so much about so little; only the teachers and students who see through the artificial curriculum will learn anything. High school and primary school are regulated by NCEA and National Standards respectively, which incentivises teachers to only teach what is required, leading to avoidance of divergent topics and treating areas of interest as nonsense. This diminishes creativity in both teachers and students.

CT is an industry focused environment where diversity is celebrated through different disciplines, thinking and people. I felt petrified at open day because of how foreign CT was. It is a student-directed, passionate and democratic pedagogy I had encountered only few times throughout my education. The freedom of CT became apparent at the presentation. It both excited and scared me. My preconceived idea of University consisted of lecture halls, academic journals and competitiveness, however CT is an open studio, conversation and collaboration. Learning in a studio compared to a lecture hall is evident of the pedagogy present. Shulman (2005) compares the different “nurseries” of learning. He states that we can learn about professions through studying their places of training and development. Notably, a lecture theatre has a lecturer behind a desk at the front, while a studio has groups of students working around tables with an instructor circulating among them. They are representative of autocratic and democratic atmospheres. Both have a figurehead but one talks while the other talks then observes/listens. Through a democratic approach to teaching CT, in a studio format with a focus on experimentation and collaboration, learning is organic. We are given the freedom to discover with and from each other, as teachers and students. The culture of CT supports students through teachers who recognise the fluidity of creativity. Students are encouraged to be resourceful, adaptable and diverse in thinking and skills. After two months in CT, I feel comfortable with the freedom and learning processes. Making frequent mistakes is seen as a valuable lesson rather than failure, this spurs me on to try and try again, a valuable and natural way to learn.

Open day was a glimpse into a teaching method that confused me. I was challenged on how I perceived university and creativity. The subsequent feeling of inadequacy was built on outdated pedagogy which didn’t allow for collaborative exchanges or self-discovery. Famous creatives are often viewed as outcasts and rebels, perhaps because societal pressures and education systems are too rigid and funnel people towards certain outcomes rather than supporting their own curiosity and interests.  Several contributing factors are responsible for this channeling - the stereotype of creativity only being practiced in fine artists, indoctrinating establishments such as the Church and the inflexible education system which limits our educators. “I’m not creative” is a self-fulfilling-prophecy (von Oech, 1973). As the poster in my father’s classroom room states, “if you think you can, or you think you can’t, you are right”.

References:

De Bruin, L., & Harris, A. M. (2017). Developing Creative Ecologies in Schools: Assessing creativity in schools. Australian Art Education, 38(2), 244–260. Retrieved from http://search.ebscohost.com.ezproxy.aut.ac.nz/login.aspx?direct=true&db=aft&AN=128027487&site=eds-live

Jeffrey, B., & Craft, A. (2004). Teaching creatively and teaching for creativity: Distinctions and relationships. Educational Studies, 30(1), 77-87. doi:10.1080/0305569032000159750

Lin, Y. (2011). Fostering Creativity through Education—A Conceptual Framework of Creative Pedagogy. Creative Education, 2(3), 151. doi: 10.4236/ce.2011.23021

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[wroef]

Do you have any headcannons or imagines for marrying into the finch family or what it would be like being the youngest sibling of each generation like your younger then let’s say Edith Lewis and Milton and how you died eventually in the weird finch way?

Oh no, I totally have never thought of any of the Finches in a romantic way ever. Nope. Not even once. *cough* Anyway, as much as I love this family, I feel like marrying into it would be incredibly stressful? Like whether you believe in the curse or not they have a very high mortality rate. And I don't have any kids of my own, but I can only imagine the paranoia and fear that would come with that knowledge looming over your head all the time. Like, being a parent is already pretty hard, y'know? And while one could argue that some of those deaths could have been prevented with a little more careful planning, you have Dawn who went above and beyond to what would seem like an extreme amount to an outsider to keep her kids safe and still lost two of her three kids. And then you have the creators confirming that Milton disappeared into the world of The Unfinished Swan, which means there very is likely at least some supernatural element at play (though if you ask me it's still 99% irresponsible parenting). As far as like, marriage itself and what kind of partner they would be? That kind of depends on which Finch you'd be pursuing. Like Lewis I think would probably be like a dorky loving cheeseball boyfriend/husband, Dawn would be strict but also caring and warm, Sam would be very traditional, probably adhering to gender roles that existed during his time, Edie would be whatever the 40's version of a manic pixie dream girl would be. And as sad as it is to say, I can't really see Walter as he was ever trusting anyone enough to develop romantic feelings. If he did he'd probably be super shy and let his partner take the lead.The other part of your question also kind of depends because each Finch parent has a different style of raising their kids.Edie was carefree and reckless with her kids. She and her husband built a swing dangling over a cliff with a piss poor fence as the only thing keeping you from launching yourself off the edge. She put poisonous berries in her hungry child's room. But I feel like she and Sven loved their children a lot and were probably very kind, warm parents. And obviously she loved to share stories about her family's history, so this is the generation where you would get the most exposure to that.Sam was much stricter with his children. It's obvious from the conversations he has with his daughter in his story and dialogue from Edith when she's in his room that he didn't expect (or maybe didn't want) to live very long, and so he wanted to make sure his children were strong and ready for anything at any time. Unfortunately, his methods of doing so did not endear him to his children. I can't say I blame them, but I can also see where he was coming from. I also think losing his sons softened him a bit, because he's very patient with Dawn during their trip. Even though he obviously wants to leave with his daughter having shot something, he never forces her or orders her to, in fact he says the opposite to her multiple times instead! I don't think Sam was a GOOD father per se but I do think he was trying, especially towards the end. Dawn, as Edith points out, was also strict, but in a different way. Whereas Sam's plan to keep his children safe was to teach them how to be strong, Dawn tried to shield her kids from any apparent and or/possible danger. Tragically, her best efforts weren't enough. I feel so awful for her, really. The Finches went nearly 20 years without a death after she moved to India with Sanjay. I bet she thought she'd beaten the curse for a while. Then she loses her husband, moves back into her childhood death home, a year later her youngest son disappears, then 2 years later Walter dies, and then 5 years after that she loses her other son. Like, I really can't fault Dawn for hating that house. As soon as moved back in it was like the deaths were trying to make up for lost time. Meanwhile Grandma's chilling with her oxygen tank seemingly reveling in it all, making silly or elaborated stories about real life people, their shared flesh and blood. I can see how that could be insulting or feel like a mockery of their lives. I can see how once it got to her own sons, she would reach a breaking point.With ALL that being said, Dawn seemed like a compassionate, caring person. She volunteered to build houses, she taught children, the bible verses on that post it in her room are about The Good Samaritan. I feel like she was someone who expected the best out of her kids but would also help them reach her standards as much as they needed. Probably the best parent out of the bunch.As for the sibling part; maybe this is my oldest sibling bias showing but I can't see where you fit in the ranks mattering much other than maybe in terms of fashion and/or what you would remember. Like Walter is the youngest of Edie's kids and obviously dealing the deaths of his siblings and the threat of a curse looming over him caused him to cave in on himself, which is a scenario that obviously wouldn't apply to say, Dawn's kids, who she attempted to shoo away from the concept of a curse to the best of her ability. If Gregory had just managed to outlive his father, he would have been 7 or 8, not really old enough yet to go through the intense kind of training his oldest siblings were. He probably would have had a much softer view of his father than they would have because of that. That's something that could potentially cause strain between them. And of course Edith knows almost nothing about her family history because that was the way Dawn wanted it. So obviously a child that came after her would know even less. It's highly likely that they would never set foot in India depending on when Dawn gave birth.I hate to leave on a boring note but I... really can't think of a creative Finch like death for myself lol. If I'm being honest, Lewis' death felt more like that something that would happen to me than anything I could possibly imagine, so. Take that for what it's worth, I suppose.Hope this was in depth enough for you otherwise!-Mod Edith

[aberwerzogausummichzufinden]

Masking

Is there a way to learn to stop masking so much? It's causing me problems. I feel like people will never truly see who I am. It's pretty clear that I'm autistic, I'm somewhere on the spectrum. I worry that the unspecified autism diagnosis I will probably get will not grant me the accomodations and legitimacy I need, plus I think I should be classified under ASD. I think the frustrating thing is that everyone is constantly surprised by me being autistic and the effects of excessive masking are making my struggles invisible. Noone could honestly believe that my social skills do not come natural to me. And it's not like I wish to be less social. I know there are a lot of people whose inability to mask causes them a lot of problems. I just wish people knew and understood that I apparently started to mask at a very young age which took a lot of work and denial of my needs by myself and my parents and caretakers, and learned to do so to a degree that my autism is very hard to detect even for “experts“. It's hard to feel unseen bc it doesnt mean I'm less autistic or that I struggle less, it means that I'm constantly exhausting myself to adhere to ableist standards, and when I try to tell people that I'm exhausted, they're just confused, bc I have friends, bc I understand irony. Surely, my exhaustion has to be caused by my physical disability and depression, surely I'm just trying to be special. At times, it feels like I'm lying. It's just so hard to convincingly show your needs after unconsciously hiding them for such a long time. Masking enabled me, partly, to lead a social life that I enjoy to the fullest. As I can still remember from my early childhood how hard my parents struggled to get me a social life (forcing me to go to birthday parties and to call people, to leave my books at home, to go to loud crowdy places), it's very important to me to have the ability to now enjoy social activity. Also,I learned. Constantly scripting, preparing dialogue, pretending I'm in a movie. I learned to adapt to people who called me boring and arrogant, who I found boring and hard to decipher. I found interesting people to spend time with, and found others who felt weird. I developed depression, people thought I was too rule-oriented, too shy,too anxious, eager to fit in. The conclusion was never to get me diagnosed bc I “coped so well“, I was “highly intelligent and sensitive“. Me crying at barking dogs and fireworks, me not smiling were quirks. People thought I was just scared. What I'm trying to say is that I spent so much time framing my issues as practically non-existent, and building my life around them, that taking the mask off seems impossible. I know now that the way I socialize may be fun, but not sustainable. That to lead my best life, I need to stop and listen and focus.

[harwardcenter]

New Life Abroad: First Impressions

The land of fondue, top-tier chocolate, and endless adventures; these are just some of the several traits that make Switzerland what it is. There are so many picturesque points, and whether it be the beaches on Lake Geneva or the mountains visible in the distance from your apartment, there is something for everyone to marvel at and enjoy.

Lake Geneva/Lac Leman and the Swiss/Geneva flags

To start off, I actually had no idea I would be coming here. My original off-campus study plan involved me going to Serbia for a semester program focusing on transitional justice initiatives in Southeastern Europe. However, due to low program enrollment and the public health crisis, that was not possible. Luckily, I was offered the option to go to Switzerland for a program focusing on international relations and multilateral diplomacy, which is not only directly tied to my politics major, but also allows me to explore various topics within the realm of international relations.

The first week was the typical honeymoon phase. I was (and still am) amazed by how clean the country is. There is almost no trash on the sides of the road, and there is actually a robust waste management program that incentivizes people to produce as little waste as possible. Unlike water sources in the United States, many water sources here are very clear, such as Lake Geneva. I was pleasantly surprised to see it.

Another thing that impresses me is the public transport. Of course, public transport in Europe will generally be many times better than that of the United States, but seeing it myself in action is quite neat. For instance, my classes are in Geneva, the largest city in the western part of Switzerland. I live in a small town outside of Geneva called Nyon, which is a 15-20 minute train ride from Nyon. There are trains running each morning on 10-15 minute intervals, and more often than not, the time on the departure board is the time it leaves. Essentially, be on time for your train because the train system here is robust and efficient. While it usually is expensive to use the train for long-distances, my program gave all of us a Swiss travel pass to use on public transportation. I'm not sure how much it costs but my guess would be a few thousand CHF (local currency) because the pass is for unlimited use until our last day here. In other words, I can go from Nyon to Bern or to Interlaken as many times as I wish at any time of the day/night. Just make sure to have your pass as train staff checks for it. Otherwise, you could be fined in addition to paying the full train fare.

Train Network and Routes of the SBB (Swiss Federal Railways)

Being in Switzerland also means being in the land of incredible tasting chocolate. When I arrived, I was impressed by how much chocolate I saw at the stores. There are so many different brands, some local, and some national ones. When you travel around different towns, and even in the major city train stations, such as Geneva and Lausanne, you will find a chocolate store. Any chocolate fanatic must try the various chocolates available here.

Before coming here, I thought that Switzerland was a German speaking country (which it is to an extent). Much of it depends on which part of the country you are in. For example, where I am, which is in the Geneva area, is the French speaking region of the country. This would be most of what is west of Bern, the national capital. The north and central parts of the country are the German speaking parts, such as Zürich, Bern, Basel, and Luzern. Towards the southern tip close to Milan is the Italian speaking region, which includes cities like Lugano. In the Southeast, there is a fourth language spoken called Romansch. However, it is the least spoken out of the four and there are only a few thousand speakers of the language, which means it is unlikely you will encounter it outside that part of the country. When you travel, you will mainly hear French, German, and some Italian. Most people here know English, but it helps knowing a bit of the regional language so that when you order at a restaurant, you will know how to explain the portion size you want, whether you want carbonated water or standard water, or in general, greeting and thanking people. In my case, my Spanish has helped to an extent, and it has made French learning easier.

Swiss Breakfast at my homestay (lots of bread!)

In a new country, one is bound to have cultural shocks, being exposed to something that may be out-of-the-ordinary back home, or just general adjustments to a new life. One of these has been with my homestay. While I have not had bad experiences so far with my homestay family, the new rules and cultural norms have definitely been an adjustment. My family lives in an apartment in Nyon walking distance from the train station. There are lots of people living here but each apartment has lots of space inside. This means that quiet hours are precious! No showers after 10pm (with limited exceptions). No flushing the toilet in the middle of the night! The shower rule has not been too bad as I already showered around that time anyway, but I'm still mindful of not using it too late. Also, make sure to follow dining etiquette, including waiting for everyone to be seated, using and placing forks and knives correctly while eating, and taking the right amount of food as being respectful to this will go a long way. Dinner is always at 7pm at my house, unless mentioned otherwise. Most of my day is spent in Geneva, so this is not a problem for me. I want to note that these are the rules at my apartment/homestay. I have spoken with my peers on the program, and at their homestays, there are similar expectations. However, each household is different, so some may have more leeway with shower rules or dinner hours. When in doubt, ask your homestay parents about their expectations.

Another major shock in Switzerland (even when knowing about it before arrival) is definitely the cost of living. Lots of products, including food, dining out, utilities, houses, and apartments, are all more expensive than that of the United States. It is said that Geneva and Zürich are among the most expensive cities in the world to live in. From what my host brother has said about renting and buying property here, that is not a surprise. Apartments the size of an average home in the United States can reach high six-figures and into seven figures easily! Also, my host brother mentioned that here, one can make monthly payments on an apartment (similar to a house) and eventually pay it off. From what I'm aware, in the United States, you can only rent an apartment and that is that. However, salaries are much higher here, which offsets those costs. Luckily, my program was aware about these costs, so they gave us a generous stipend of a few hundred CHF for lunch. What I have done is limit going out to only the weekends, and on weekdays, I go to the local supermarket chains (Migros or Coop) to get a sandwich, some snacks, and a drink, which is around CHF 6-10 (about $7-$12). I end up spending about CHF 30-50 a week.

Nyon, Vaud

One of the main things that has kept me a bit uneasy is the constantly-changing list of public health requirements. On September 13, all individuals are required to have a Swiss COVID pass, which is a QR code showing that you are free from COVID and/or have been vaccinated. You need it to visit museums, bars, restaurants, and libraries, no exceptions. Fines are a heavy penny. To get a pass, you need to submit an application with your vaccination information, Swiss phone number, an ID (such as a passport) and your homestay address. You then answer a few questions. Because everyone has to do this now, application processing times are now several weeks long. You can get a temporary pass by taking a COVID test and having it be negative, but it is more convenient to just get the actual pass. The Swiss federal government became aware of these long waiting times, so it provided more guidance. Until October 10, you can enter venues, bars, restaurants, libraries, and museums using and ID (passport) and your vaccination card. This has relieved many of us as we can temporarily use this as we wait for our actual passes. Otherwise, many of the requirements on-campus at Bates are similar here: masks required in indoor areas and public transport, proof of vaccination or a negative COVID test taken 72 hours before entry, and adherence to these guidelines.

Castle on the French side of Lake Geneva (Yvoire, France)

On a similar note, the paperwork for the program (and arrival procedures) has been a lot. It is not as bad now, but in the beginning, I had to go to the local immigration office to register my arrival, fill out homestay paperwork, and then pay to process the information. We would be reimbursed that amount as long as we had a signature from the immigration staff confirming we went there and the receipt. Well, there were some issues with getting the signatures not just on my end, but with many of my peers as well. Our program staff realized this and instead made it so that if you only have the receipt, you can still get the reimbursement. If you have both, great, but for many of us, this was a tricky situation to navigate.

Swiss regional festival with lots of cows, traditional music, and awesome views

All of these things aside, I have definitely enjoyed it here. Even in my hometown, I can go to the lake and relax there or take a boat that goes across the lake to France. It is easy to move around here and to access lots of picturesque places. The photos above are from a regional festival 3 hours away where local farmers bring down their cows as the fall starts. It is very cool to witness. Afterwards, there is traditional music and lots of local food, such as sausages with fries, raclette (melted cheese), and of course, chocolate. I will close off by leaving you with one of my favorite moments of the trip so far: enjoying some Toblerone with the Matterhorn in view!

The iconic Matterhorn on the Toblerone chocolate!