#newer house=less problems

[elscottie]

My mom and I are insane. Really considering selling my cute 1920’s house for an ugly modern townhouse just so I could live worry free

[kiwoa]

The only heartworm allowed in this house is a plush one - after nine months of treatment, Jackie is heartworm-free!

Her journey's been a bit different from the traditional path. For one, she's been on heartworm preventatives for a long time. The problem is that heartworm takes six months to show up on a test. She was taken in by a shelter at two months; we adopted her at seven months. Somewhere in her early puppyhood, an infected mosquito must've gotten her and the worms grew until they could finally be detected after she'd settled into her forever home with us. So takeaway #1 - always test for heartworms, even if they've been on preventatives, especially if there's a gap in their history!

For another thing, we opted to try the Moxi-Doxy protocol, a method less tested than the traditional treatment, but super promising in cases like hers, where the dog is healthy and the disease is young. The problem with Moxi-Doxy is that it takes longer than arsenical injections, so it's not a great pick if the worms are already doing damage or causing symptoms. The advantage, however, is that the restrictions and side effects are WAY fewer!

You start off with a month of Doxycycline, same as with traditional treatments. It kills a symbiotic bacteria in the worms and weakens them. This was actually the hardest part of the treatment for Jackie, as the dosage is high and is given all month, but she only had issues in the last week of it, so we were able to push through. The big difference in treatments comes after that - with Moxi-Doxy, the next (and potentially final) step is application of drops containing Moxidectin as directed for as long as it takes. For us, we put Advantage Multi on Jackie once a month.

Since the worms are being killed so much more slowly than with arsenical injections, the risk of embolism from multiple worms detaching/breaking down at once is considerably lower. We couldn't take her on any super long walks or to dog parks or other places that would raise her heart rate and keep it up for a prolonged period, but she was still allowed normal walks. She still got to play fetch. She could still wander around the house freely and thrash her toys and even have brief stints of zoomies. And there was no pain from injections or deleterious side effects - just some painless drops on her skin once a month.

There's still much to be said for the traditional method. It has a higher success rate (we were always aware that Jackie's treatment could fail and we'd end up having to start the traditional protocol after a year and a half of failed efforts) and it works much faster. I think there's a lot to be said for Moxi-Doxy as well, though, since it's a much more comfortable process. And it's always nice to have options. It's a much newer protocol and I had never heard of it until a vet suggested it could be an option for Jackie, so I figured I'd put this information out there for dog owners who might be similarly unaware. For us, at the very least, Moxi-Doxy worked without side effects and cured our Jackie in less than a year. I think that's worth telling people.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hey !

I love reading your posts , you are brilliant truly.

I would like to request an analysis of James potter and maybe his relationship with lily Evans.

Thank you so much for your time !

Hi!

Thank you so much! 💕 I love writing these analysis posts, and I'm so glad other people enjoy reading them!

Now, James and Lily Potter, I'll start by giving my biased opinion which is that I like them as characters (especially Lily, love her) and their relationship.

So without further ado:

James Potter's Childhood

So before the Pottermore article that revealed Fleamont and Euphemia existed, the common fanon parents of James were Charlus and Dorea, I'm going to go with Fleamont and Euphemia being his parents though. (I still sometimes prefer his parents to be Charlus and Dorea in fic, even though it makes less sense with what we know about James, as I'll mention later).

So what do we know about the Potter family?

We know they are pretty rich. Not Malfoy or Black level rich, but they have a substantial amount of money as shown repeatedly:

Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Harry gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts.

(PS, 57)

We also know, from Pottermore, that the Potters are relatively newer money, making a good portion of their wealth from Henry Potter’s potions business (James' grandfather).

We also know Potters are common enough members in the Wizengamont from Pottermore. I posed here that the Wizengamot seats pass down families, which will place the Potters as wealthy and influential in the wizarding community as a whole.

“My whole family have been in Slytherin,” he said. “Blimey,” said James, “and I thought you seemed all right!” Sirius grinned. “Maybe I’ll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?” James lifted an invisible sword. “’Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!’ Like my dad.” Snape made a small, disparaging noise. James turned on him. “Got a problem with that?”

(DH, 567)

We know from James his father was in Gryffindor and probably his grandfather too. His distaste towards Slythering and anything resembling Dark Magic probably came from home. The same way Draco came to Hogwarts with his notions of blood purity and how Slytherin was the best house because he was parroting his parents, James is the same. He is an 11-year-old shouting off whatever he hears at home.

This is why I mentioned Fleamont and Euphemia make more sense as James' parents. As much as I personally like the idea of his parents being Charlus and Dorea, it wouldn't make sense with what we see. Dorea was born a Black, which means James would likely know who Sirius is and would probably have different notions regarding Slytherin house if his mother was there...

James Potter, then, grew up as the only child of a rich and politically influential family of Gryffindors, he was spoiled and used to having anything he wanted whenever he wanted, which is clear from his behavior.

James yawned hugely and rumpled up his hair, making it even messier than it had been. Then, with a glance toward Professor Flitwick, he turned in his seat and grinned at a boy sitting four seats behind him.

(OotP, 642)

He is brilliant and he is aware of it. Lily refers to him as arrogant often before they start dating, and I have to agree with her assessment of the teenage James. James at 15 is lounging in his seat and feels untouchable. He is at the top of his own world, popular, rich, and brilliant. So of course he's arrogant, he feels like nothing could reach him.

Ron said, stopping mid-sentence at the look on Harry’s face. “Why are you grinning?” “I’m not,” said Harry quickly, looking down at his Transfiguration notes and attempting to straighten his face. The truth was that Ron had just reminded Harry forcibly of another Gryffindor Quidditch player who had once sat rumpling his hair under this very tree.

(OotP, 704)

But it isn't that simple. James chooses to appear unbothered and untouchable, and I do think he is prideful but not as arrogant as Lily and Snape make him out to be, even at 15. The reason I think that is the above passage. I never really saw anyone bring it up in association with James' character, but Harry mentions Ron messing up his hair as he brags about his Quidditch save in much the same way James did in the memory he saw. The reason this is interesting is that we know Ron, we know how insecure he is and that all this hair messing is show and bravado that isn't fully backed up.

And considering the parallels I already mentioned James having with Draco and will mention more of them later, I wonder if James really does have insecurities he covers up with pride and arrogance — something we see both Ron do (in the above scene) and Draco do in general.

James Potter, when it comes down to it, has more in common with Draco Malfoy than with Harry in terms of his personality and even character arc, down to some of the things he says:

“Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?” James asked the boy lounging on the seats opposite him, and with a jolt, Harry realized that it was Sirius. Sirius did not smile.

-James Potter to Sirius Black, 1971 (DH, 567)

“Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been — imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”

-Draco Malfoy to Harry Potter, 1991 (PS, 58)

So James is spoiled, snobbish, and used to getting his way in everything, unlike Lily and Sirius, who grew up with siblings and were more used to having to share or give up their wants sometimes. James also feels the need to live up to certain expectations, he has to be the best (the way Draco thought he would be at Hogwarts), he needs to be popular and top of the class and a lot of his pride and confidence probably hinges on these external sources, his arrogance is superficial. I just can't see a character who has real self-confidence be shown in narrative parallels to either Ron "self-esteem issues" Weasley or Draco "Arrogance to Hide Weakness" Malfoy.

The Mauraders

We move on to James' time at Hogwarts. He gets sorted into Gryffindor and befriends the Mauraders. I kinda want to talk about their friendship dynamic a bit, because it is interesting.

We saw in the earlier quote from the train, that Sirius was the first of the Mauraders James met, and he was the closest to him out of the bunch. I'm going to talk more about Sirius and James' friendship later in this post as they are a separate entity from the Marauders. I mean, there's a reason everyone in PoA keeps mentioning James and Sirius in a single breath while Lupin is never brought up.

(I know the reason is so JKR could keep the reveal for later, but in universe, it's quite telling)

Now, from what we see of them, they have a very clear dynamic. James is the leader, and Sirius is his second and only real equal (academically and by popularity) who are the closest to each other. Then we have Remus, who is friends with them, but they don't take him or his concerns as seriously. Remus was usually afraid to speak up against James and Sirius because he felt he was expandable to the friend group, a feeling Peter shared, if even worse than Remus. James and Sirius didn't really treat Peter great:

“Put that away, will you?” said Sirius finally, as James made a fine catch and Wormtail let out a cheer. “Before Wormtail wets himself from excitement.” Wormtail turned slightly pink but James grinned. “If it bothers you,” he said, stuffing the Snitch back in his pocket. Harry had the distinct impression that Sirius was the only one for whom James would have stopped showing off.

(OotP, 645)

Sirius is the one James actually takes cues from and vice versa. Pettigrew is often belittled and made the butt of their jokes and Remus:

“I’m bored,” said Sirius. “Wish it was full moon.” “You might,” said Lupin darkly from behind his book.

(OotP, 345)

“How thick are you, Wormtail?” said James impatiently. “You run round with a werewolf once a month —” “Keep your voice down,” implored Lupin. Harry looked anxiously behind him again.

(OotP, 643)

Is treated friendlier than Peter, but not with the same respect James and Sirius reserve for each other. James mentions Remus is a werewolf in a crowded hall, Sirius endangered Remus' secret during The Prank. We see Sirius doesn't really take Remus' Lycanthropy as the serious concern it is for Remus. Obviously, Sirius gets better about it, but this is the dynamic of the Marauders the way we see them. It's a far cry from a healthy friend group, but they were teenagers, and teens actually do on occasion have these kinds of friend groups that you question if it can be called friendship (I know I've seen a few of these in my school). I think the adult Remus and Sirius we see in OotP are closer than they were in school, and the reason for that was the war and having no one else really, but this is a James meta and not a Mauraders in general meta, so I'll focus.

Prongs

Many in the fandom already talked about what a brilliant and insane feat of magic becoming animagi at 15 is. We know James was a prodigy in Transfiguration and other areas of magic as well considering his confidence regarding the DADA exam. What I want to talk about Prongs, in particular, is the symbolism of a stag as one's Animagus form.

I talked about this a little already here, but basically, stags and deers in general represent:

The cycle of life and death

Agility and grace

Bravery

Nobility

Stags additionally represent:

Masculinity

Authority

Leadership

Fatherhood

So, what does all this tell us about James?

Well, it tells us he is as Gryffindor as they come (Bravery & Nobility), the cycle of life & death is his connection to the Peverells and his own early demise. Agility and grace make sense as well if you take it to mean he was a talented and graceful dueler, which is very possible and even likely.

And then we have the stag-specific traits. These are traits I think James only grew into later in life and would've grown into more. I mean, he was always charismatic and had the ability to lead people, he was leading the Mauraders and was incredibly popular. But I think the traits of the stag with fatherhood and authority suggest maturity, something the young James definitely lacked. I think his Animagus, more than anything proves he did change, and would've continued growing into himself to truly become the stag if he was given a chance to grow old. Because stags are positive leadership, father figures, and authority, they are supposed to represent the noblest kinds of leaders they have the internal self-confidence James lacks. And if that is the animal that represents James, it means he had it in him to be what the stag represents.

Bullying and Maturity

Sirius said it well enough:

“Yeah,” said Harry, “but he just attacked Snape for no good reason, just because — well, just because you said you were bored,” he finished with a slightly apologetic note in his voice. “I’m not proud of it,” said Sirius quickly. Lupin looked sideways at Sirius and then said, “Look, Harry, what you’ve got to understand is that your father and Sirius were the best in the school at whatever they did — everyone thought they were the height of cool — if they sometimes got a bit carried away —” “If we were sometimes arrogant little berks, you mean,” said Sirius. Lupin smiled. “He kept messing up his hair,” said Harry in a pained voice. Sirius and Lupin laughed. “I’d forgotten he used to do that,” said Sirius affectionately. “Was he playing with the Snitch?” said Lupin eagerly. “Yeah,” said Harry, watching uncomprehendingly as Sirius and Lupin beamed reminiscently. “Well . . . I thought he was a bit of an idiot.” “Of course he was a bit of an idiot!” said Sirius bracingly. “We were all idiots!

(OotP, 670)

James was an awful bully, toward Snape:

“This’ll liven you up, Padfoot,” said James quietly. “Look who it is. . . .” Sirius’s head turned. He had become very still, like a dog that has scented a rabbit. “Excellent,” he said softly. “Snivellus.”

(OotP, 645)

“And stopped hexing people just for the fun of it,” said Lupin. “Even Snape?” said Harry. “Well,” said Lupin slowly, “Snape was a special case. I mean, he never lost an opportunity to curse James, so you couldn’t really expect James to take that lying down, could you?” “And my mum was okay with that?” “She didn’t know too much about it, to tell you the truth,” said Sirius. “I mean, James didn’t take Snape on dates with her and jinx him in front of her, did he?”

(OotP, 671)

And even toward Peter, who Sirius and James constantly belittle:

“How thick are you, Wormtail?” said James impatiently. “You run round with a werewolf once a month —”

(OotP, 643)

I mentioned above how the 15-year-old James wasn't really the embodiment of the stag just yet, like Sirius said they were idiots. Sure, Harry rightfully calls them out that it isn't a good excuse for anything they did, but Harry is a very mature 15-year-old.

As for what motivated his bullying?

Honestly, I think it wasn't all that dissimilar to Draco, in terms of motivations at least. I mentioned above how James' conception of himself is tied to his being at the top, the most popular, the most talented, the top student. One way to feel at the top is to put others down. Most of his bullying was probably fueled by this need to assure himself he is better and assert control (but, more on that later).

I don't think Snape should forgive James or any of the Mauraders or anything like that, not at all, what they did to him was awful and the fact James continued seeking him out even after he mostly dropped the bullying makes it so much worse.

But at the same time, I tend to believe Sirius, Remus, and Lily about him changing, that, given time, he would've matured even more:

“Look,” he said, “your father was the best friend I ever had, and he was a good person. A lot of people are idiots at the age of fifteen. He grew out of it.”

(OotP, 671)

I'm a big believer that people can and do change over time, especially teenagers. Life experiences change who you are, especially big and traumatic occasions, and James encountered one hell of a life experience to kick-start his growth and maturity:

The first wizarding war

I won't go into the full detail on what happened in the war but I want to talk about how the war changed James.

I discussed the progression of the first war as part of my analysis of Voldemort here and when James and Lily went into hiding here. Now, the Marauders were in school between September of 1971 and June of 1978. As I mentioned in the Voldemort analysis post I linked, the war really started getting bad, the first casualties, were in 1975 when the minister of magic was replaced. This makes James and the Mauraders 5th or 6th years when the war truly begins. I personally think this was late in 1975, as in November or December when the Minister was booted from office, aligning well with James' change.

What I think this was for him is a moment the rug was pulled from under him.

I think, the same way the second war showed Draco who he is as a person, that he doesn't want to hurt and torture, not even muggleborns, the first war was the same for James. He learned about himself and his own priorities. He just learned different things than Draco because James is very much willing to hurt and probably kill for what he thinks is just and for the people he cares for. He can be cruel and ruthless.

The wizarding world is an incredibly small community, with this kind of small population that almost all work together (the ministry) when someone dies, especially someone important (I believe the first deaths were high in the ministry or even Wizengamont members) it rattles everything. For James, who felt his skill, money, and status made him practically untouchable, this is a slap in the face. This to him starts his journey to see he is not above anyone else and he is just like anyone else — can die and hurt like everyone else.

War, even when you aren't on the front lines, even just hearing that Mr. Whatever's brother was killed and your old neighbors who moved away lost their son — it doesn't leave you unscathed. It forces you to confront how little control over certain aspects of life you actually have. And in a community so small that every death is someone you at least knew in passing or knew someone who knew — every death hits hard. Every death feels too close to home.

I think this is part of why James continued bullying Snape even after his change in approach. It wasn't out of the same arrogance as before, now it's by a need to feel in control. To hurt a familiar enemy that represents the Death Eaters to feel a semblance of stability under his feet. I think, this was part of what motivated James, a roundabout justice against the Death Eaters at large when he felt powerless. So he took it on whoever he could — in this case, Snape.

I'm not trying to justify it, I'm just explaining what I think motivated James and why he would do that if he was in the process of changing for the better.

All of this gives James ample motivation to join the Order, after all, he wants to hit back against the Death eaters, he wants to feel balanced and in control again. So he probably jumped at the opportunity to join the Order.

The Order of the Phoenix

We don't know much about what James did in the Order, and it doesn't matter too much for the sake of analysis. We know he joined at graduation, so, June 1978. I also mentioned in the aforementioned post how the war got worse in 1979, which means that before he went into hiding, James was probably involved in a few skirmishes in the war when it was already at its peak.

We also know James and Lily got married incredibly early, almost immediately after graduating. That too, is probably influenced by the war. After all, war can either speed up life events or slow them down, depending on various factors among which is the optimism of the people involved. James and Lily getting married and pregnant in the middle of the war tell us something about their characters — it tells us they were incredibly optimistic and hopeful for the future. They got married and had Harry in the hope and belief that the war would be over soon enough and Harry would grow up in a better world. That is what they believed in and I think this is just, really interesting.

Then they went into hiding, and we know what happened from there. There are two things I want to mention about this period in hiding in regards to James' character.

First, James' first choice was Sirius, Sirius is the one to convince him to choose Pettigrew instead:

“Harry . . . I as good as killed them,” he croaked. “I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me. . . . I’m to blame, I know it. . . .

(PoA, 365)

As I mentioned above, the Mauraders looked down on Pettigrew. I think the plan always was to tell everyone Sirius was the secret keeper so he'd draw the fire and torture and potential death, so the real secret keeper, and the secret, would remain safe even if he was killed for it (which is a sad thought, but that's about Sirius).

Pettigrew was chosen by Sirius for how unassuming he is, Sirius is so ready to sacrifice his life for his friends that he couldn't fathom Pettigrew wouldn't do the same. James didn't choose Pettigrew because of his faith in him as a friend the way Voldemort implies, no, I think James chose Pettigrew because of his faith in Sirius. If Sirius said its a good idea, then it was a good idea to James.

Second, is this quote:

James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell

(DH, 158)

There are two things I want to unpack in this one sentence (I do love doing that).

James, quite similar to Sirius in OotP, doesn't like being cooped up away from the action. He hates not being out there for very similar reasons to Sirius. He loathes feeling useless like he isn't doing anything to help while people are dying. While his friends are risking their lives. James, at his core, is a person who cares deeply for the people he considers his, he would feel incredible guilt sitting safely behind magical protections while they were in danger.

Lily says James is trying to hide how frustrated he actually is, this is significant, why? Well because the 15-year-old version of James who complained easily about being a little bored wouldn't have hid his complaints. He would have voiced them to anyone willing to listen. The fact he isn't doing that shows some of his growth and maturity, it shows he is self-aware enough about the situation that he knows he shouldn't be the one complaining considering he and his family are safe. He still feels frustrated for the above reasons, but he tries to be considerate and keep things at home with Lily as intense as he can in the way he thinks is best. He is actively trying, and I think that's important.

Now, James has two important relationships that really define his character for me. Sirius and Lily.

Quite the Double Act

I adore James and Sirius's friendship honestly, they were each other's most important person and I can't really talk about James without talking about Sirius (as seen in this entire post), after all, no one in the books seems able to operate these two when talking about them in POA:

“Naturally,” said Madam Rosmerta, with a small laugh. “Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here — ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!”

(PoA, 204)

Sirius and James met on the train at the age of 11 and couldn't be separated since (well, until death, that is). They are the heart of the Mauraders as a friend group and I've seen some other blogs bring up already how unhinged their friendship was:

This is a two-way mirror. I’ve got the other. If you need to speak to me, just say my name into it; you’ll appear in my mirror and I’ll be able to talk in yours. James and I used to use them when we were in separate detentions.

(OotP, 858)

They literally invented an advanced magical communication method so they wouldn't have to go an hour without talking to each other. When we see them finishing the exam in SWM, the first person they look at is each other and communicate with no words that the exam was great.

These two are just, on the same wavelengths. I had a friend in high school who, when we would talk to other people, and she'd be unsure how to say something so she'll just turn to me, communicate a whole ass concept in eye contact alone, and then I'll explain it aloud to whoever we were talking to. I am convinced James and Sirius were like that too, where they didn't even need to talk to understand each other, they just knew.

For them the answer to "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" was always "Yes" or "Now I do"

Sirius was the best man at James' wedding, Harry's godfather and he still held a special place for James, to the point Lily was very aware of it:

If you could visit, it would cheer him up so much.

(DH, 158)

I mean, I don't know of many friendships like this, where the guy's wife asks his best friend over because they were apart for too long and getting antsy. I mean, it is bizarre.

In my head, if there wasn't a war, Sirius would've probably practically moved in with James and Lily. Sure, he had his own apartment, but you'd rarely ever find him there.

During the war it was too risky, James and Lily were in hiding and Sirius was doing missions for the Order, but again, if there wasn't a war, I think Sirius and James would've still been joined at the hip way into adulthood.

Sirius is one of the only two people James would ever take cues from no questions asked. I just, love them, okay.

Head Boy and Head Girl

Now, to James' second most important relationship: Lily.

James' crush on Lily started pretty early in their school years. We know it wasn't quite a love-at-first-sight as in the meeting on the train we don't really see any of it. I would guess his crush on her started growing as he got to know her as a housemate. I think James liked how smart and talented Lily was. James considers himself the best, his best friend is also the best, a top student, handsome and popular — his crush would be the same. Lily's kindness, likeability, and intelligence were huge turn-ons for him, not just the fact she was gorgeous (but that too).

I want to talk about this quote:

then back at James, who was now doodling on a bit of scrap parchment. He had drawn a Snitch and was now tracing the letters L. E. What did they stand for?

(OotP, 642)

This is adorable. James is a romantic guy, he was doodling Lily's initials on a spare parchment. I bet he wrote out "Lily Potter" in hearts and everything. I find it hilarious and adorable and it both shows he had a crush on her, but it also shows a really dorky and romantic side that no one (of the characters we meet) mentions because they probably haven't seen it. Well, Sirius probably did, but he doesn't really get many chances to talk to Harry about James unfortunately.

Sirius mentions that they went out on dates (something Harry and Ginny don't really do), and with James doodling Lily's initials I bet they were super cheesy and romantic. He'll take her out to picnics and light candles and carve their initials in a heart on a tree.

If they lived to raise Harry, they'd be the kind of parents who had a weekly date night and left their kids with Sirius for the evening.

“I didn’t mean—I just don’t want to see you made a fool of—He fancies you, James Potter fancies you!” The words seemed wrenched from him against his will. “And he’s not. . . everyone thinks. . . big Quidditch hero—” Snape’s bitterness and dislike were rendering him incoherent, and Lily’s eyebrows were traveling farther and farther up her forehead. “I know James Potter’s an arrogant toerag,” she said

(DH, 569)

Now, about some of the downsides of their relationship.

Yeah, James was persistent in flirting with Lily for years before she agreed to go out with him. He bullied her best friend and acted like an idiot. She considered him an "arrogant toerag" which isn't very complementary.

That being said, even when she calls him out, she still defends him to Snape in the above conversation. While Lily disapproved of James' behavior, I don't think she ever really hated him, not the way Snape did. She didn't like how he was acting, but she didn't hate him:

“Oh, well, he always made a fool of himself whenever Lily was around,” said Sirius, shrugging. “He couldn’t stop himself showing off whenever he got near her.” “How come she married him?” Harry asked miserably. “She hated him!” “Nah, she didn’t,” said Sirius. “She started going out with him in seventh year,” said Lupin. “Once James had deflated his head a bit,” said Sirius.

(OotP, 671)

I think Sirius is right about this for the reasons I mentioned above. Lily never really hated James, just thought he was an idiot (rightfully so) and once he got less arrogant, she was more willing to date him.

I think their relationship wasn't a bad one, I think they did love each other and mostly got along really well. I think Lily liked James' sense of humor after it mellowed out a bit and she liked that he's smart and talented. I think James liked Lily's calmness and intelligence and how much she cared for people.

Yeah, they probably argued about a lot of stupid things (I think they enjoyed their stupid arguments and barbs on occasion not unlike Ron and Hermione), but overall, I do like their relationship, I think they balanced each other out. James pushes Lily to allow herself to be a little silly, and Lily can put James in his place when he is being an idiot or needlessly cruel. And they are both incredibly smart and compassionate people... whenever I think about them it kinda makes me sad they didn't get to raise Harry. That Harry wouldn't have such a low view of himself, he'll probably have younger siblings, be used to having Sirius (and Remus too, to a lesser degree) around constantly, he would've been the top student in practically everything... I mean, he'd have a different set of issues, I'm sure, but, I don't know, I just made myself sad.

The fandom is pretty split on James, some talk about him as if he's some flawless sunshine child, which isn't the case. Yes, James is loyal, brave, and compassionate, but he can be cruel and ruthless and he uses arrogance as a mask for his insecurities and need to be great (I think James Potter could be a Slytherin, tbh). But on the flip side, some fans consider him nothing but a bully, and I tend to give him more credit than that. I think he was always more than that, but I believe Sirius, Remus, and Lily that he did change, and he probably would have continued to improve to become the brave and compassionate leader the stag represents if he had lived longer.

This post turned out way longer than I expected it to, but, here you go, James Potter's analysis of the top of my head.

[ilovemybishies87]

The Vacation from Hell - Chapter Two

Chapter two is now uploaded to AO3! It is also below the cut, in case anyone prefers to read on tumblr.

This chapter is VERY loosely based on the response sketch from @damntheyare's original 'human hotel' fanart. Because some tropes will never die (nor do we want them to).

Despite the numerous changes since Alastor was alive, he could more or less navigate thanks to a few familiar landmarks, like the old Hermann-Grima place. Back in his day, it had been a boarding house for single women. He slowed as they passed its faded blue shutters and gated front door.  

“What is it?” asked Charlie. “You know this place?” 

He shook his head. “Not exactly. I know about it. This house has quite a history, spanning back to before I was even alive! The families who owned it are well known around here.” 

“Speaking of, where is here? I didn’t ask since you seem to know the way.” 

“New Orleans.” Alastor paused. “Home, I suppose.” 

Charlie’s eyes widened. “This is where you lived when you were human?” 

“Born and raised!”   

“And the hotel we’re staying?” 

He didn’t answer. He could only hope it still existed.  

Their suitcase wheels clacked on the brick sidewalk as they strode down Saint Louis Street and turned right. Many of the businesses were from after his time. He didn’t care for their newer architecture: some flashes of style here and there, but mostly it simply existed. Functional without any flavor.  

They crossed over two more streets before reaching their destination.  

Alastor allowed himself to drink in the sight. The name Hotel Monteleone was embellished in bold cursive on all three sides of the sign above the main portico. Festoons and cartouches, worn with age, adorned the hotel’s facade. Flower-filled planters lined a set of windows, and sky-blue flags waved on poles attached to metal guards.  

Charlie’s jaw dropped, and her bag nearly so. “This is . . . wow.” She laughed. “Good choice, Al!” 

“Thank you, my dear!” he said, and found his mood marginally improved. 

A solitary footman stood before a pair of golden doors. His attire was more suited to the weather—a short sleeve button down—but the black hat couldn’t have been comfortable. As they approached, he swung the door closest to him open.  

Cold air wafted out from the lobby.  

“Maybe we should have someone greet our guests at the entrance, too!” she whispered, nodding her head in thanks as they entered. “Nothing says hospitable more than a friendly face greeting you when you arrive!” 

“Oh? And who would you suggest for our doorman?”  

“Angel Dust?” 

“Not the worst suggestion.” He thought she might suggest Vaggie, but Charlie seemed to realize her dour expression would deter sinners seeking redemption. “Though I can’t say the types of guests he’d attract are what you’re hoping for!” 

“That’s the point, Alastor! Everyone is welcome,” she insisted. “The problem is whether Angel would agree to it. He already works for Valentino. But maybe this will be a step in the right direction!” 

The lobby was even more impressive than the hotel’s front. Their suitcases glided over parquet marble floors. Framed paintings of the founder, along with other men Alastor couldn’t place, decorated the walls. Above them, gold inlayed panels adorned the bases of crystal chandeliers. The lighting filled the entrance with a soft glow, making the place feel otherworldly.  

To their left, a rose centerpiece stood in the middle, bench-like seating surrounding the arrangement. A set of stairs, most likely heading to the establishment's rooms, lay before it. Another smaller set of steps led to the entrance of a restaurant. Alastor filed that away for later. Once they were settled in, food would no doubt be a priority. They passed more seating in the form of sofas and upholstered armchairs, along with a grandfather clock ticking away the seconds.  

Charlie lingered behind as he approached the counter. 

The receptionist was a completely average woman. Not too tall or short, heavy or thin. Completely unremarkable. Her only standout feature was the short reddish locks framing her face. Her smile screamed ‘customer service,’ but she didn’t appear to be in a mood either. 

“Can I help you?”  

Alastor read the tag pinned to her blazer. “Why, yes, I believe you can, Marie!” he said with a flourish. “My companion and I are needing a room for the duration of our stay.” 

“Of course, sir.” Marie began typing and glanced between him and a screen that suspiciously resembled Vox’s head. “Do you already have a reservation?” 

Fuck.  

Yes, he did. Decades ago, when they were supposed to arrive. Alastor was left with quite the conundrum. Did he take a chance on the hotel having an open room? Or did he use his magic to . . . turn the odds in their favor? The latter was the obvious choice, but he had expended more energy than planned to transport the group and their belongings. 

Alastor lightly tapped the top of the machine and infused it with his magic. A green glow came forth from the monitor along with thread-like tendrils. They reached out toward the receptionist and infused her pupils with the same green glow.  

“Yes, indeed!” he gritted out. “It should be for Alastor Malveaux and Charlotte Magne.” 

Marie blinked; her eyes returned to normal. “Thank you, sir. One moment while I pull up that information.” 

“Was that your last name?” whispered Charlie, joining him at his side. 

Alastor shrugged. “Who knows?” he replied, his voice low. “Whatever it was, it’s lost to the wind. The Radio Demon is what I’m known as now, and I have no complaints.” 

“Okay, but what about my name? Charlotte Magne. Really? What’s wrong with Charlie Morningstar?” 

“Your last name might . . . raise a few eyebrows,” he said, smirking, “and Charlie Magne is too obvious.” 

“How so?” 

Marie interrupted before he could explain. “Okay, so I’ve found your reservation.” Her face twitched. “But I’m afraid the room you requested was double booked. Another couple has already checked in.” 

“I see.” Charlie turned to him. “I guess we’ll have to cut our trip short?” 

"No, no, Miss Magne!” said Marie. “This was entirely our fault! We do have another room available, though. Fortunately for you, it’s an upgrade!” She started furiously typing away. “How long did you and Mister Malveaux plan on staying again?” 

Alastor struggled to keep his grin. “Six days.” 

“And what time were you planning on returning home? Check out is before noon.” 

So many questions. “We can be out before then.” 

“Perfect! So, that will be five nights total—” 

“What a relief!” Charlie scooped Husk off her shoulder and held him in her arms. He had somehow managed to remain affixed the entire trip to the hotel.  

Alastor wholeheartedly agreed. “We’ll have to decide who gets which bed once we are in the room.” 

“Oh, you wanted two beds?” asked Marie, the clacking on her keyboard slowing.  

He blinked. “I beg your pardon?”  

“I’m sorry if I wasn’t clearer.” She held up her index finger. “The room only has one. If it’s any consolation, it’s a King.”  

He would not murder the woman for doing her job, even if she was getting on the very last of his nerves. Alastor forced the violent urge down and laughed. “It would be quite improper for an unmarried man and woman to share—”  

“We’ll make do,” Charlie answered, much to his shock. She looked up at him. “Is that okay?” 

“As you said,” he stated with a deep breath, “we’ll make do.” 

“All right! That’s five nights total with two pets,” Marie said, eyeing Niffty and Husk in their arms. “They receive their own little welcome package for free. Trust me, everyone loves it! And did you want any add-ons or upgrades for your stay? We offer overnight valet parking, along with a wide selection of wines and hard liquors—” 

“That won’t be necessary.” 

“Maybe some macrons for you and Miss Magne—” 

Charlie watched their exchange with rapt attention. No doubt she was mentally taking notes on what could be added to their hotel. That was the purpose of this visit. And while he appreciated her passion in theory—the more invested, the more satisfying it would be to see her dreams torn to shreds—the only one suffering at the moment was him. 

“Just the total,” Alastor ground out. “Please.” 

“That’ll be $2,204.60.” 

Alastor turned to Charlie and handed her Niffty, who let out a small ‘Yip!’ of dismay. Charlie gasped. She barely managed to catch the other demon—now dog—and juggle both her and Husk in her arms. 

Alastor unzipped the bag sitting on top of Niffty’s luggage and made a show of rummaging around. As he suspected, Husk had packed nothing but alcohol. He was grateful for once. A bottle of whiskey was calling his name. Hopefully the staff didn’t check the contents before they settled in. With his last bit of magic—at least until he could get some food and rest and alcohol—he conjured a stack of bills and zipped the sack closed. 

He pulled out the cash and began counting.   

Marie’s almond eyes widened. “Wow, don’t see that too often!” She stared at him grimly. “You’ll want to be careful. You’ll be a target for sure.” 

Alastor chuckled as he placed the last bill down. The remainder was shoved into his pocket. “I’m not worried.” He took Niffty from Charlie, much to her relief, and held the small dog under his other arm.  

Marie picked up the bills and double checked the amount. “Suit yourself. We don’t keep change here, but—” 

“Don’t worry about the extra. Consider it a tip for your hard work! Otherwise, we’d be looking for another hotel or returning home.” 

“Thank you, Mister Malveaux!” This time her smile was genuine. “If you don’t mind me asking, where is home for you anyway?” 

“I'm technically from around these parts, but it's been years since I’ve been back. Things have changed quite a bit.” 

Marie nodded. “You’ll find yourself at home in no time. Change doesn’t happen that fast here.” She turned to Charlie. “What about you?” 

“Well . . . ,” said Charlie nervously, “where I’m from is pretty big. And dry. And hot! Not to mention very . . . intense! It’s nothing like here.” 

Marie raised a brow. “Huh?” 

“California!” said Alastor, and he felt Charlie relax.  

“It’s where we met,” Charlie added, smiling at him.  

“Oh, so you must be an actor,” said Marie to Alastor. “You sure are dedicated to the craft, not breaking character! It explains the accent. The glasses and cash too. Those Hollywood eccentrics sure have rubbed off on you.” 

Alastor quirked his head. “Pardon?” 

“I’ve never seen you in anything before, but I'm not much for historical pieces.” She reached for the safety deposit box below the counter and locked the cash away. “But I’m trying to branch out. I’ll watch for you.” 

He and Charlie shared a look. A smirk graced her lips. 

“Not a word, Miss Magne,” he said under his breath. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Mister Malveaux.” 

“Your room will be ready in a few minutes. Our bellhop will take your luggage for you.” A stout man with curly black hair approached. He wore the same outfit as the doorman, though his dark pants still held the crisp line from when they were pressed earlier that day. “Olivier, could you take their things to room 606?” 

He tipped his hat in her direction, then piled their bags onto the luggage cart. “I’m on it!” 

Alastor eyed the sofas in the lounge, but before he could move, he heard the shuffling of papers from behind the counter. 

“So,” said Marie, “what do you two plan on doing while you’re here?” 

No. 

Charlie bit her lip. “I’m not sure honestly. I was only interested in the hotel,” she admitted. “Alastor did all the planning.” 

Absolutely not.  

“I see.” Marie nodded. “Any sites you wanted to visit with Miss Magne?” 

He was not having any small talk. 

“I hadn’t given it much thought,” he said, his tone clipped. 

Marie’s expression brightened. “In that case, would you mind if I made some suggestions?” 

“Not at all!” exclaimed Charlie. 

“The Phantom of the Opera is in town,” Marie said, handing over several brochures. “Not sure if you’ve seen it yet. Broadway is probably better, but it hasn’t been to New Orleans in about a decade, so we’re all excited.” 

Charlie turned to Alastor and placed Husk on his shoulder before he could say a word. She took the pamphlets from the receptionist and flipped through one.  

“Is this any good?”  

Marie leaned over to see what Charlie was showing her. “The Voodoo, Witchcraft and Vampires tour? If you’re into supernatural stuff, sure. There's no shortage of that around here, even at this very hotel.” 

"How so?” Charlie asked.  

“There’ve been countless unexplained happenings over the years. Doors that open on their own, elevators that go to the wrong floor, even shadows of kids playing in the halls! Eyewitness accounts from different times, guests, and staff. Hard to write it off as coincidence!” 

What drivel. Charlie seemed to think so too, judging by her incredulous expression. If anyone knew what happened to a soul after they passed, it would be the Princess of Hell. They were either in her domain or they weren’t. It was as simple as that. 

“What about this, Alastor? They have jazz bands and even a jazz museum!” 

“I wouldn’t mind hearing a live session again,” he said. “It’s been ages! But I also wouldn’t mind some place . . . quieter.”  

“Then you have to go to Oak Valley Plantation,” said Marie. “It’s about an hour away from here, but if you want to get away from it all, that’s your best bet! It’s like stepping back in time.” 

Alastor considered her briefly. “Maybe before we leave, to wind down.” 

“Excellent! I can help get you tickets for any or all of those excursions. Give me another ten or fifteen minutes to calculate—” 

“We’ll do them all.” He glanced at Charlie, who couldn’t have looked more thrilled than if every sinner in Hell had been redeemed in one fell swoop. Alastor pulled all but a couple of bills from his pocket and placed them in her hand. “I trust you with the schedule, my dear.”  

Charlie grasped the cash tightly. “Thank you, Al! I won’t let you down.” 

“Yes, yes.” He sighed. “I’m taking a breather until our room is ready.” 

“Olivier should be nearly finished if you would like to head up, Mister Malveaux. Here’s your key,” Marie said, handing him a piece of plastic. “I’ll give Miss Magne the other so she can join you when we’re done.” 

Alastor held the rectangular thing awkwardly between his fingers. What odd material to use for a key.  

The elevator was several paces behind them on the other side of the stairs. Leaving the two women to hash out their plans—a decision he hoped he would not come to regret—he stepped into an empty lift and pushed the backlit button with the number 6. 

Husk pawed at his head, nearly knocking his glasses off. 

Alastor turned, his glare ice cold. “You’re trying your luck, Husker! I’m not in the mood to be messed with. Unless you care to find out if cats really do have nine lives, I would suggest you mind yourself for the rest of the trip.”  

Silence filled the compartment for the ride up to the sixth floor. The elevator’s ding! notified them of their arrival, and the doors slid open. A gold cart was parked in the hall several doors down. He could see the last of their luggage—pink, in all its shameless glory—being picked up and transported inside. 

“Thank you for your hard work, my good sir!” said Alastor, steadfast in keeping the last of his remaining patience in check. He handed the man a crisp . . . twenty? Fifty? He didn’t look. “Much appreciated!” 

Olivier’s eyes widened. Had he slipped him a hundred by mistake? “You’re too kind, sir! Thank you. Let me know if you need anything!” He pushed the cart back toward the lifts. 

The room’s door remained open long enough to slip in. Alastor allowed it to close behind them as he placed Niffty on the ground beside him. Husk jumped from his shoulder and landed on the carpeted floor. They surveyed their accommodations. 

White. It was very white. Alastor crossed over to the king-size bed and upholstered headboard, a wallpapered inset behind it. They were white. So was the bedding. As was the much smaller, more rustic chandelier hanging up above. The nightstands, the single-seated sofa, and the vanity and set of chairs at the foot of the bed.  

The carpeting. The floors. The ceiling. 

Everything was white. Even the bathroom gave him no reprieve. 

Was this what Heaven was like? 

Alastor felt like he was going mad. The only hints of color came from the trio and the baggage they had dragged along for the trip. Charlie’s and Niffty’s luggage were a sight for sore eyes against the colorless landscape that was their room.  

Husk’s was too, but for very different reasons. Alastor picked up the leather bag, placed it on the vanity, and pulled out a seat. A small glass was set upside down beneath a mirror. He grabbed it and quickly zipped the bag open. The bottle of whiskey he eyed earlier clinked against a bottle of gin, and without hesitation, he twisted the cap off with his thumb and poured out a healthy amount.  

Husk jumped up and hissed.   

Alastor tipped his glass and downed the drink. “Even when you can’t pour, you make an excellent bartender, Husker old pal!”  

An almost imperceptible beep alerted him to Charlie’s arrival. “That receptionist really knows her stuff!” She dropped a handful of brochures on the vanity, along with a much thinner stack of cash, and pulled out the seat next to him. “So, I know we’re here for research—” 

“You are,” said Alastor, pouring himself another glass. “I am but the chauffer.” He picked up the money, returning it to his pocket. “And sponsor, clearly.” 

Charlie hesitated. “Are you okay, Al? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink before.” 

“Well, we are on vacation, aren’t we?” This time he didn’t down the liquor in one gulp. He allowed it to linger on his tongue before swallowing, relishing the slight burn. “You were saying?” 

“R-Right. I still plan on getting the full hotel experience while we’re here. Even checking in has given me so many ideas! I’ll need to take notes, so I don’t forget anything.” She took out a notepad and pen from her purse. “Everything is so luxurious, don’t you think?” 

If someone enjoyed the ‘padded room’ aesthetic, then certainly. 

“But I figured, we might as well take in the sights too! I can only imagine how much has changed since . . . .” 

Alastor allowed the silence to hang between them.  

Charlie looked around awkwardly. “I’m sorry about the bed. We can ask for more pillows to create a wall between us. If that helps.” 

“You needn’t worry about me.” Alastor took another long sip before grabbing a different bottle from Husk’s bag. He read the label and realized he didn’t care what he was drinking, so long as it was strong. “I will make do.” 

“I don’t want you sleeping on the floor, Al. Or in the chairs. You should be comfortable!” 

“We’ll burn that bridge when we get there,” he said, fumbling over the words. His accent slipped as well. “In the meantime, you should do what you set out to do! There’s a whole hotel waiting to be explored.” 

Charlie stood and tipped her luggage onto the floor. “What about you? You’re not going to spend the whole day drinking, are you?” 

Alastor made one last drink and toasted to her. “Well, you could say I have some research of my own. But until then”—he tipped the glass back and grimaced—“I’m starting this trip off with a bang!” 

[maskedemerald]

Weaving Webs CH4

Here is chapter four for Invisobang ! The wonderful @pricklenettle did some fantastic art that you'll see embedded through out the fic! We get some more creepy Danny art this chapter! And I love the little details on the fridge!

You can check out the fic here or on AO3!

If you like this consider dropping us both a follow!

Warnings: Body horror, manipulation, Spectra is her own content warning, Burns, Spider - for like 2 chapters then it goes away.

The Fenton parents were there when the accident happened, they saw Danny die in an act of sabotage. Now they’re just trying to go on with the strange ghost that is all that's left of Danny. While their old college friend is wondering where the subjects of his revenge are.

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Chapter Four

The lab was dim, an electric twilight. The lights blared overhead as they usually would but her eyes were too over compensated. Something bright, like looking at the sun burned in her vision. Her ears rang with screams. She couldn’t move. Shadowy, skeletal hands gripped her feet. Her face. His hand. Scraping her skin with rough burnt skin. Forcing her to watch. Unable to stop it. Those cold hands held her arms as she tried to fight free.

You don’t get to look away.

It’s your fault, you let him go in.

This is all because of you.

A sharp chill deeper than the cold hands drew a violent shiver. Like an ice bath. Colder.

Maddie jerked awake, that chilling feeling still in her spine despite being awake. She stared up at the ceiling trying not to think. The waking world wasn’t much better than that nightmare after all. She frowned, noticing that it was much lighter than she had thought. Later in the morning than she had thought. She sighed knowing that she wouldn’t get back to sleep now and started to push herself up.

There was a soft white glow at the foot of the bed. Its legs were gone, blended into a tail that twisted round itself to curl up. The tattered sleeve and skeletal arm exposed. The bony fingers stretched out towards her. She shifted just a bit too much of the blanket as she tried to escape the bed unnoticed. Danny’s ghost lifted a tilted head. She froze for a moment but it didn’t lunge.

It followed her throughout the house, keeping to shadows or perching on high locations. Like the top of the fridge where it had settled during breakfast. Jazz kept glancing in its direction and left quickly the moment she could. Her breakfast, only half finished.

It appeared to once again fall asleep there. She watched it. It didn’t make sense, ghosts didn’t need sleep. Or at least none of the research said they did. Maybe it was wrong. Maybe this was a feature of newer ghosts. Would it sleep less the longer it was… dead? Would anything else change over time? Was it only a matter of time before it became malevolent like the research said?

Research… research said that this shouldn’t have happened. The portal shouldn’t have turned on. They had worked hard to make sure there wouldn’t be another accident. Not after Vlad. She had to know why? Why did this happen? Why was Danny…? Was it their fault? Had they made this mistake?

She glanced to the lab door in the corner. She didn’t want to face it but she had to. Had to know why. Her hand hovered shakily over the handle. The ghost shuffled in its place on the fridge. A high pitched whine. A constant reminder of what happened. A reminder she couldn’t escape. A question that would quite literally haunt her forever if she didn’t find an answer. She took a deep breath and turned the handle.

The descent into the lab was a slow one. Each step felt massive and the bottom still shadowed in the darkness they had left it in on the day of the incident. The lights flickered on weakly, revealing the scattered chaos that had been them trying to save Danny.

She crossed to the console, that was where part of the problem was. The only part she could access. The only place she could get answers from. The portal frame itself was inaccessible behind the swirling green of their window into the ghost zone. The death trap that had killed Danny. The swirls played tricks on her tired mind, the silhouette of a mass of something beyond the portal. A shape close to the floor. Even if it was really there she didn’t want to see. The horror of a mangled, incinerated body that her mind supplied was bad enough. She couldn’t handle the real thing.

The console reported back that the portal was active. It understood that. It wasn’t a bool issue in the code. Something reporting false when it should have said true stopping her from turning off the machine it didn’t think was on. It knew it was on. That meant the emergency controls were the problem. She poured over the code trying to find the control error. A mistyped variable or something. Anything that would explain what happened.

What she found was worse. Or maybe better, if only because it meant it wasn’t them. They hadn’t caused this. There was an override coded into the emergency shutdown. An override that linked back to a start-up sequence they had never coded. It was set to initiate start-up while someone was inside. Specifically while the wiring was being worked on. Some of the wires had been bypassed to allow the machine to work even if they had been unplugged. Wires that had once been important to function were now just a trigger. Sabotage.

Jack was meant to be dealing with the wiring, it had only been passed to Danny since the paneling went on. Had someone been trying to kill Jack? No, that didn’t make sense. Why would… but then why would anyone target anyone else in the family. She couldn’t think of anyone who hated them like that. Even the Mansons didn’t disapprove of them that much. Even if she could think of someone this required a certain level of understanding of their work. Few had that privilege. Vlad from college but that would have been long outdated with how long it had been and their direct overseers from the GIW. Neither really had opportunity and reason. Had it not been about them at all? Was someone trying to halt their work and unintentionally caught Danny in the crossfire? Still she couldn’t think of who. The GIW were literally paying them, sabotage would just make it worthless. Vlad had nothing to gain, he wasn’t even in the field any more.

She frustratedly shook her head, there was no use speculating when she really had no clues. Maybe Jack would know something. If not at least he wouldn’t be blaming himself like she had been. She took a few moments to document the evidence and hide it away. Whoever it was had somehow gained access to their computers if not the lab itself, she couldn’t risk it being covered up. Maddie was not going to let this go unpunished. She was going to find who did this and she was going to make them pay.

Satisfied that the files were preserved she headed for the stairs. Jack was probably still sleeping. She’d wake him. He’d want to be told as soon as possible.

It was like a cold hand crawled up her spine. She froze, one foot on the next step, halfway up the stairs. Her heart beat faster and she couldn’t help but feel on edge. Each next step was tentative and cautious. Her eyes scanned the kitchen and fell on the sleeping ghost on the fridge top. She let out an uncomfortable awkward laugh. Of course it was the ghost. She should have realized that was what they were feeling. That natural human fear response to a ghost's aura. Of course they would be feeling that, made only worse by the very real grief.

She found Jack exactly where she expected him to be. He was sleeping but it hadn’t been peaceful. The covers around him were rumpled and his eyes bagged. He had probably been lying there awake for a good portion of the night. She knew she had been before the exhaustion took her into that nightmare.

“Jack?” she asked softly as she gently shook him. Thankfully he didn’t startle, his eyes opened awkwardly with a tired and confused groan.

“Mads? What is it?” he paused, wiping sleep out of his eyes, “did something happen?” concern drifted onto his face and was alleviated as she shook her head.

“I found something. The accident,” she stumbled over the memory of it, “it wasn’t. I was looking through the control panel files. They’d been changed.”

“Sabotage?”

She nodded, “someone bypassed the safety controls and the power. They rigged it to go off while you were working.”

“But I hadn’t… I passed it off to…” his face dropped, “if I hadn’t then… Mads this…”

“Jack, that doesn’t make it your fault. Danny wanted to help and we didn’t know. We couldn’t have,” if anyone was to know it would be her she’d noticed something had been changed, even if it wasn’t obviously malicious at the time.

“Who is then, who even had access?”

“I don’t know but now we know we can find out,” Maddie said firmly, a promise. Another promise unsaid but clear, that whoever was responsible was going to regret this.

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[goodluckclove]

How I Critique Writing (A Loose Collection of Tips)

Someone asked me for insights into my methodology when it comes to giving feedback on writing and I realized I had way more than I could say in a reasonable amount of private messages. Are you someone who I've spoken to about their writing? Did someone send you their work and you don't know how to respond? Maybe this will help? Based on how people react I feel like it might be controversial but it seems to work.

When someone sends me their writing, no matter the size, subject or genre, I:

Take it seriously. It's a generational epic about the Vietnam war and its effects. It's a cute, young adult romance. It's Zim and Dib from Invader Zim realizing they've always been in love with each other. All of these things can be written with earnestness, strength, honesty and skill. It's fucking hard to write and if someone writes a single sentence that wouldn't otherwise exist its worth holding in your hands and examining with the same eye as if you were taking an interesting book off the shelf.

Respond with curiosity. It's common for critiques to follow a theme of ambiguous disdain. This doesn't work. Delete this. Bad. No. Gross. Guess what? That's not helpful. If you got that feedback, even if you followed it, you wouldn't be thrilled about it. Oftentimes you can take a line that makes you want to say Bad and ask something else. What is this supposed to express? What were you trying to do here? Am I supposed to feel happy/sad/uncertain when I read this? Curiosity can reframe something that you don't think works as a reader and turn it into an opportunity for the writer to look inward and solve their own problem. They might explain what they were trying to do, and if you were to say that it didn't pan out for you they're way more likely to tweak things themselves and feel like they still have control over their project.

Give comments. I've started giving more in-depth comments on the writing people give me depending on how anxious they are about it. If you're a pretty confident writer I'll give a summary of what I gained and what I was left wondering, what I thought and what I felt, what associations it made me think of in terms of tone and other forms of media - stuff like that. For newer writers, especially those who are far more doubting of their own abilities, I go buck wild. And in my opinion notes should be less like Good! I like this! Wow! Nice! (What are you, grading my book report? No thanks), and more like what you think when you're reading a book you're truly invested in. Make jokes about the characters (Not mean ones. I will send bugs to you in the mail.), chart exact lines that provoke physical reactions, even a small one. Can you imagine reading someone treat your work like it has its own fandom on Tumblr? You can do that for someone else.

Fucking have some fucking awareness of the fact that it might not be for you and that doesn't mean it's bad. I'm angry about this one considering the novel a friend sent me last night that they've been too terrified to try and post online, despite it being fucking brilliant. I'll try and calm down. Listen - you read what you like. I mainly read literary and experimental fiction, some poetry, horror and some sci-fi. Not a lot of genre fiction. But I will always be down to read someone's high fantasy story, because even though I don't really like fantasy I know what the good ones sound like. I've forced myself to gain a sense of what someone else would like, even if I don't like it. And I can still critique it. If I'm a builder and I see a house that's painted a shade of green I find sinful for a home (i.e. mint), I can look past that and focus on the state of the walls and the stability of the foundation. You aren't a reviewer, man. You are neither Siskel, nor Ebert. They write for readers, you write for writers. So you don't like historical fiction? Cool, man. Congrats. If someone trusts you enough to give you some to read and critique, you should still do so objectively. If you give it an automatic F because you wouldn't buy it, then you are legally a stinky little trash man. That's just the law.

Ask them what they liked to write and what was the hardest. There's apparently a weird trend on online writer communities that say there are specific rules that all writers need to follow. This is not true. It just isn't. If the dialogue in a story you read is weak, and the writer says they hate writing dialogue and really struggle with it, maybe tell them they don't have to use it. You might change their entire life.

RESPOND WITH CURIOSITY. You see the Ask games where people try and get more detail on the WIP of certain authors. If you have a WIP and I ask you a worldbuilding question that doesn't relate to the direct plot of the story as it exists now, I bet you'd like to talk about it. If I ask if you were inspired by a certain tone or movie, you might know the work I was talking about and feel happy. Or you might not know it, look it up, and feel inspired. I don't think people realize that a critique of new/unfinished writing is not a one-and-done exchange. You are taking part in an isolated process in a way few other people on the planet will. It's not homework. It's. Not. Homework. We spend so much of our time alone just fiddling our hands and making our magic, and in instances like these we share something in one of the ultimate forms of artistic trust. They're taking you into a world that hasn't fully formed yet. Is it cool? Can you tell me about it? Can they?

Be nice. Storytime, friends. In the way early 2010s, there was something on the internet called sporking. It was pretty much a line by line roast of someone's writing - typically fanfic. And I hate to say this, but I read a lot of it. I was 13, somehow untreated and overmedicated, and I was miserable constantly. Just cold in my chest. At one point I had the chance to critique a stranger's story - probably another child - and I essentially mocked the whole thing. They ended up deleting the story off the website. I cannot begin to describe to you the shame I feel about doing this, even ten years later. It burns in my heart and makes me sick to my stomach. If you are a serious writer, especially a young writer, and you insult another writer's craft to their face just as they're getting started - you will regret it. I promise you that. You will think about holding something alive and full of potential in your hands and squeezing your fists until it is just flecks of meat and crushed bone. It will haunt you. Maybe only a little, but constantly and for the rest of your life. So don't do it.

Wow what a grim note to leave on! That's essentially my philosophy on writing critique, do with it what you will. Want to send me some writing to receive this kind of excessive treatment? Cool! I have an email in my pinned post and I'll do that! I'm also down to chat if anyone wants to send me asks or DMs on writing/writing struggles/publishing tips.

[hedgehog-moss]

do you ever read scifi or fantasy in french? i am trying to read more sff that was originally published not in english but it's not easy to find 💀

I do! It’s not my favourite genre but one of my friends loves it so I read a bunch of SFF books every year ahead of her birthday to try and find a gift for her. I’m glad I do this because it’s allowed me to discover N.K. Jemisin’s Broken Earth trilogy which was amazing, and I don’t know if I would have picked it up otherwise!

Here are some French-language authors I’ve read or plan to read (unfortunately English translations are few and far between :( I bolded the names for which I found English translations—if you read in another language you can check out the non-bolded authors, there are often translations available in other languages long before English ones)

When it comes to classics you've got Pierre Boulle (Planet of the Apes of course; also Garden on the Moon, which is (deservedly imo) less known), Jacques Spitz (La Guerre des mouches—it was translated but not into English), René Barjavel (The Ice People, Ravage, Future Times Three—I read them a long time ago but I remember them as very sexist even by French classic standards), Bernard Lenteric (La nuit des enfants rois), Alain Damasio (La Horde du Contrevent—maybe too recent to be a classic but it’s everywhere. I was surprised to find no English translation!), Bernard Werber (I feel like he rehashes the same 3 ideas again and again but some of his earlier stuff was fun), Alexandre Arnoux (Le règne du bonheur), Jules Verne of course, Stefan Wul (Oms en série which was adapted into the film La Planète sauvage—Fantastic Planet in English. I like the film better!) And some I haven’t read: Georges-Jean Arnaud, Serge Brussolo (I liked his Peggy Sue series when I was in middle school but it spooked me so much I haven’t dared to pick up any of his SFF for adults, like Les semeurs d’abîmes), Élisabeth Vonarburg.

Newer authors: Estelle Faye (L’arpenteuse de rêves, Un éclat de givre—I tend to like her worldbuilding more than her plots); Sandrine Collette (The Forests—if you count speculative fiction as SFF) (I didn’t like it at all personally but others might), Jean-Philippe Jaworski (I really liked Janua Vera; didn't like Gagner la guerre but it was mainly because I have a low tolerance for rape scenes in fantasy books) (he’s about to be translated into English according to his editor), Stéphane Beauverger (Le déchronologue)

More authors I haven't yet read: Pierre Pevel (The Cardinal's Blades—I've been told it's "17th century Paris with dragons"), Romain Lucazeau (Latium), Laurent Genefort (Lum’en), Christian Charrière (La forêt d’Iscambe), Roland Wagner (La saison de la sorcière), Aurélie Wellenstein (Mers Mortes—I love the synopsis for this one), Magali Villeneuve (La dernière Terre, trilogy)

And non-French, non-anglo SFF authors: Maryam Petrosyan (my review of the Gray House last year was that I understood maybe 1/3 of it but I liked it anyway!), Hao Jingfang (haven’t read her yet), Arkady & Boris Strugatsky (idem), Jaroslav Melnik (I’ve read Espace lointain (originally Далекий простір) but didn’t like it much), Andreas Eschbach (The Carpet Makers), Walter Moers (I read The City of Dreaming Books back when I was still learning German and found it very charming), Liu Cixin (I loved The Three-Body Problem but The Dark Forest was so sexist it made me not want to pick up the third volume), Lola Robles (El informe Monteverde, translated as Memoirs of an Interstellar Linguist), Elaine Vilar Madruga (Fragmentos de la Tierra Rota), Tatiana Tolstaya (The Slynx), Karin Tidbeck (Amatka), Emmi Itäranta (Memory of Water, The Moonday Letters), Angélica Gorodischer (I’ve read Kalpa Imperial and found it only so-so but it always takes me a while to warm up to characters or a setting so I struggle with short story collections. I’ll still give Trafalgar a try) Also my favourite fantasy book as a kid was Michael Ende’s Neverending Story, I was obsessed with it. I re-read it in the original German a few years ago and it was still great.

[btheleaf]

"What's your problem with me?" Pemlin 👀

Okay this is another prompt that got out of hand and I've now created a whole AU in my head that I can't stop thinking about. Read it on AO3 Pemlin AU 2.5k words TW below the cut because it's honestly fucking ridiculous all the shit that needs to be tagged 😅

TW Rape/Noncon, Dubcon, Forced prostitution, implied/referenced underage prostitution, non-consensual drug use, addiction, kidnapping

Chapter one: The pickup (1.3k words)

The Satomobile pulled up to the corner the same way the others had that night, and the night before that, and the night before that… Pema couldn’t even remember how long she’d been trapped here under Thaki's thumb. Sometimes it felt like a year or two, sometimes it felt like an eternity. Recently, she had been longing for the house she grew up in, even if it had been nothing but a nightmare. She knew she would gladly trade that nightmare for this one. At least before she was able to read books and dream of a better tomorrow.

These days she wasn’t even allowed personal possessions. She knew exactly what tomorrow would bring; pain. Her life was always painful now. Whether whoever she got sold to for the night got off on hurting her, or no one wanted to buy her, and she would get beaten for being useless. Blissful were the nights someone purchased her time and they were a giving lover. But even then, her consciousness would recede so far into herself to prevent feeling the emotional turmoil of everything she was forced to do. There was always pain. She sometimes wondered what it would be like to live a different life, what it would have been like to be an air acolyte like she had set out to be, but she didn’t let the childish idea get ahead of her. This was what her life had to be now. Thaki was too powerful, too dangerous. She had accepted a while ago that it was better to just do what he said. At least the powders and pills and liquor took the edge off.

A mature female voice came from the rolled down driver’s window and Pema tried not to perk up too much. Experiences with women were typically less painful than the ones with men. Her heart skipped a beat when Thaki called her over. She made sure to walk the way the other women had showed her in the high heels. One foot directly in front of the other, hips swaying, back straight to push out her breasts. Thaki constantly insulted her for not having enough curves, but then he would be the first one to tell her that she hadn’t made enough money that week to cover her habit and food. Pema didn’t really mind as long as there was something to snort throughout the day. The newer model of the Satomobile excited her. If someone rich had picked her, she could probably afford to slip into oblivion for a day or two after Thaki coughed up some of the money.

“Come here, sugar tits,” the woman said from where she sat in the car.

Pema leaned into the window and tried to accentuate her cleavage while still looking casual. The lighting was terrible so far away from the streetlights and Pema couldn’t really see who she was talking to. The woman moved her hand up to touch her lips as she looked at her reflection in the flip-down mirror, but Pema couldn’t see much in the shadow, even with her pupils blown wide.

Thaki grabbed her exposed ass from where her tiny skirt had shifted up when she leaned over. She tried not to show outward signs of discomfort as he began to slip his fingers through her folds. She was his property, after all.

“Looking for a good time?” Pema asked as his finger slipped inside her.

“Kiss me,” the woman demanded. “I want to know your mouth is useful.”

The stranger’s hand was delicate on her chin as she guided her further into the car for the kiss. Pema tried to use her lips and tongue to show that she was more than capable of providing oral, and the woman returned the kiss with expert movements that excited her. Thaki rubbed the pad of his finger over her clit, and she was reminded to moan into the woman’s mouth. Pema knew it was unlikely that she would receive any pleasure from the encounter if she was purchased for the night, but she was still allowed to dream. Something passed from the woman’s mouth to hers. A small pill. Pema swallowed eagerly. She would be a fool not to. Drugs were expensive and typically made terrible experiences less memorable. Even if this was about to be a bad experience, at least the woman was kind enough to give her something.

The woman pulled back and looked at Thaki. “I’ll take her.” The car started again and she put her hands on the wheel.

Pema smiled, happy to have already gotten a dose of something and to not be left behind on the corner for the night. She gasped as Thaki yanked her back by her hair.

“This one paid a lot for you. Do what she says. Do it right, and do it enthusiastically,” he growled in her ear and Pema nodded rapidly. He released her and Pema went quickly to the passenger door, not wanting to make the woman wait.

The car slowly pulled off and Pema slipped her hand between the woman’s thighs as she drove. “What do you want me to call you?” Pema purred and slinked closer to nibble on her earlobe. In the passing lights on the road she could see two large scars running down the side of the woman’s face.

“Lin.”

Pema palmed her hand against Lin’s crotch and slid her mouth down her neck. “Okay Lin, what do you want to call me?”

“What’s your name?” Lin asked. Nothing in her voice even hinted that someone was touching her the way Pema was right now.

“Niya,” Pema lied gracefully and pulled back to see where they were going. The lights in her vision were doubled and she felt herself sway just from looking at them. “What did you give me?”

“Something to help you relax.”

Pema nodded, not sure if she liked the feeling of dizziness that was creeping into her mind. She turned away from the road, unable to tell where they were with all the starbursts in her vision. Lin hadn’t opened her legs wider, so Pema moved her hand up to her breast and began to massage the tender flesh there through her silk shirt.

“Do you wanna park, or go somewhere?” Pema was confused by how far away her voice sounded and it was getting harder to control her hand. Her eyelids grew heavy. “What was’n that pill?” Pema slurred and her body went slack. She slumped down onto the bench seat and was in and out of consciousness as the car pulled to the side of the road.

A door opened, closed, and then opened again. Pema felt hands on her pulling her from the car. She whimpered, thinking this is how she would die, that this woman was some kind of psycho that just wanted to drug her and dump her off a bridge.

“Please, don’t,” Pema begged weakly.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, kid. Just relax.”

Pema felt herself moved to lay down flat on a soft leather surface. Something plush was draped over her from head to toe. She fought to open her eyes and move, but the effort didn’t yield any results. Every passing second made the waking world slip further and further away. The last thing she remembered was feeling the inertia of the car moving before she succumbed to whatever drug she had eagerly taken from the stranger’s mouth.

Chapter two: The wake up (1.2k words)

The pounding headache was the first sign that she wasn’t dead. Pema groaned and opened her eyes to see sunlight beaming in through massive windows. Her head rolled to the side to see who would be in bed next to her, but there was no one there.

That’s fine, she thought as she climbed out of the large, soft bed. This wasn’t the first time she had been drugged, and it certainly wasn’t the first time she had woken up alone. She knew when she took the unknown pill last night that there was a chance something like this could happen. She was mostly just grateful she was alive, and moving around proved that she was no worse for wear. She found her body to not be in any more pain than usual.

The marble floor was cold under her bare feet as she stepped off the plush rug surrounding the bed. She was surprised to find herself fully clothed, or as “fully” clothed as she was allowed to be these days with the cropped shirt that showed off her mid drift and the wrap skirt that barely provided decency. What was unusual was that whoever had her last night bothered to dress her afterwards. A quick look around revealed that she was definitely in the rich part of town. The room was easily bigger than her childhood home. The windows ran from floor to vaulted ceiling, and she was willing to bet the small door off to the side led to an en suite.

Pema shook her head and sighed. It would have been nice to have a memory of partying in a house like this. She found her heels on top of a trunk at the base of the too big bed and picked them up, making for the tall double door. Getting back to Thaki before noontime was going to be difficult if she was on the other side of the city. She turned the knob, but the door didn’t budge. She tried again, thinking she must still be feeling the effects of whatever drug the woman had given her, but the door wouldn’t move no matter how many times she tried. She backtracked to the other small door off to the side, thinking maybe that was the true exit, but that only revealed a comically large bathroom. Pema went back to the door in the main room. She dropped her heels and started pounding her fists on the thick wood.

“Someone help! You left me in here! Let me out!” She waited a moment before trying the doorknob again and rattling the door with all her might. She kicked the wood in frustration and went to go check the windows.

The first window didn’t open, neither did the second, it wasn’t until the third unsuccessful attempt that she finally looked out and saw where she was. Acres upon acres of green grass and lush plant life waited for her behind the glass. There was a tree line far off on the horizon and no matter which direction she looked, she couldn’t see the city skyline. The ground below looked much too far to jump to.

The sun was too high in the sky, she was going to be extremely late meeting Thaki after she figured out where the hell she was, and he was going to be furious. The scars on her back decided to ache in that moment, almost like they knew more would join them soon. He liked to use his water whip on her for every minute she made him wait. A shiver went down her spine and she froze in fear for a moment. If she was too late going back, he would probably find some new cruel way to give her frostbite. She screamed in frustration when the last window wouldn’t open either. She ran back to the door and started pounding on it again. Why couldn’t these damn rich people keep track of their prostitutes?

“Hello!? Can anybody hear me?!”

The door swung inward suddenly, and Pema jumped back in surprise. The woman with facial scars from last night came walking into the room with a stride and air about her that made her seem larger than life. With a movement of her hand, the door closed and locked behind her. Pema backed up as the metalbender kept stalking towards her. She searched her mind to remember the woman’s name as her knees hit the trunk at the foot of the bed and she fell into a sitting position. The woman finally stopped moving. Pema’s wary eyes met cold, pale green ones, and the name finally came back to her. Lin.

“I have to go now. You only paid for one night.” Pema’s voice was a rehearsed calm even though the panic was setting fully in for how completely fucked she was right now.

“Do you want to go back?” Lin asked.

“Yes.”

Lin frowned at her. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Pema stood. “I have to go back.”

“What’s your name?”

“I told you last night. My name is Niya.”

“Another lie.”

Pema frowned. Of course she’d get paired up with the mean-looking metalbender who was rich beyond belief, a truth seer, and for some reason intent on kidnapping her. “I need to go,” she said urgently as her eyes flicked to the door.

“How old are you?” Lin asked.

“Twenty.” Pema responded as she had been trained to do. She didn’t actually know how old she was anymore. She figured it had been a couple years since she ran away, and when she left home she was fifteen-ish… maybe. That was a guess too.

Lin hummed and her eyes narrowed. “I wouldn’t put you a day over eighteen, if that. Are you an addict?”

“No,” Pema said quickly.

Lin tutted in disapproval. “I���ll call my healer. She can be here in a couple days, hopefully your withdrawal symptoms aren’t too bad.”

Pema swallowed hard. “What’s your problem with me? Why are you doing this?”

“When you open your mouth without lying, I’ll start answering questions. For now, there’s clothes in the closet and I’ll bring you something to eat soon.” She turned on her heel and the door opened with another movement of her hand.

“Wait!” Pema ran after her.

Lin turned around and slid into a steady stance as she brought her arms up. A small piece of metal came out of what Pema thought was an abstract structure at the side of the room and wrapped around her ankle, rooting her in place several feet from the exit. Lin stood back up to her full height, her face an expressionless mask. Pema pulled on her leg, trying to make it move.

“Why won’t you let me leave?” she yelled as tears filled her eyes.

“You’ll thank me later.” Lin turned to walk away.

“Wait!”

Lin turned around and stared at her.

“Wait—I’ll—we can make a deal. Call Thaki and tell him where I am, that you need to keep me for longer. I’ll make it worth your while. I’ll do anything you want. You can do whatever you want to me.”

Lin frowned and left without another word. Pema could hear the lock in the door sliding into place as she pulled desperately on her leg until the metal cut her skin.

“No! Stop!” The hold on the metal released, but the piece remained wrapped around her ankle. She lunged for the door and tried the knob and pulled as hard as she could. “Please! Don’t do this!” Her hands began to ache as she slapped and punched the unmoving heavy wood. “Let me out!” she screamed desperately and fell into sobs. It didn’t seem like Lin was coming back no matter how much noise she made. She slid down the door and curled her legs up to her chest, hugging them tightly as she cried. Blood trickled from her new shackle down onto the floor. Thaki was going to kill her… if Lin didn’t do it first.

[maybe-its-micheal]

I honestly feel like we're all underestimating Mike as a potential president?

I particularly like his ideas about making sure everyone has similar access to resources like a good home, food, and tools.

In terms of keeping players active, making sure everyone has good, resources, especislly tools and armor is really important. Etoiles has said he probably would have quit day 1 if he hadnt been given as much as he was, and its pretty clear to see from his recent streams that Slime not having. Anything. Is a real hurdle for him getting back into lore- he didn't even know what a warp stone WAS until Fit gave him one and explained it.

Newer players are not going to know the mods well. They arent going to know their best options for food and armor, they arent going to know how to get a lot of the materials people use every day for travel or building, and they arent going to know what to expect from the mobs.

Even for players that aren't new, lacking equivalent materials is going to be a big demotivator for peoole who haven't spent as much time grinding to get back into lore, or even just playing frequently. I'd love to see more qsmp content from Spreen, Luzu, Missa, Mariana, or Vagetta, but the server has changed so much from when they were more active to now that they'd probably feel pretty lost trying to get back into it. Charlie is having the same problem, and I won't be surprised if it happens to Wilbur for a bit as well.

This problem can be and has been solved. So far, its been solved through the generosity of other players. BadBoyHalo gave Etoiles a log of the materials he needed to start out, Fit has given Charlie a warp stone now and others have offered him things like armor, I imagine Phil will give Wilbur some stuff, and explain how it works, ect. This is all great, but having a standardized system in place to make SURE less rich players are taken care of would be a fantastic idea.

It isn't even neccesarily about everyone having great gear, just similar. In the begining obviously no one had many of the things they do now, but it was still fun because they were on the same level. Its certainly less fun for someone who has been away for a while to come back and not be able to travel the same way everyone else does, die to mobs way more often, stand little to no chance in pvp regardless of skill, and just generally not understand how to even go about making a lot of the progress everyone else has made.

A president who makes sure people have reasonably matched materials and a house as a starting point before they build their own sounds like a good president to me!

I know Etoiles proposes something similar, which I also approve of. For similar reasons I also really really like Insane Duo's 4D lore museam experience. I hope whoever wins takes all of these ideas into consideration, and they communicate together and settle on a good way to provide these resources, provide information about how they work, as well as some other generally important information about the mods, and make sure the base line level of materials granted is kept up to date as players continue to progress

[agro-carnist]

I hate barn cats because I live on a farm and barn cat rhetoric encourages people to dump their unwanted cats on my property. I set up a humane trap and take them into the shelter when I can, but there's coyotes, foxes, hawks, all my neighbors have hunting dogs that are used for that purpose. I know people will dump their animals regardless, but I feel both "cats are special and independent and need less care" rhetoric collided with "farmers love barn cats!" rhetoric and it makes it seem like a more acceptable option. The local shelters take cats for free, and during kitten season, they try to get all adult cats in foster homes and have speciality fosters set up for bottle feeders and nursing queen/kit groups so there's room for the kittens at the actual shelter, and I knew a staff member who was allergic who would prepare a room in her house to take overflow and just pop allergy meds and have her husband care for the cats, which makes the "holier than though vet tech who wants to euthanize animals" narritive the other person suggested more than laughable .

Sometimes, days get so bad there are lines for people to surrender kittens, and shelters don't charge a surrender fee for cats anymore because they know people will just dump them otherwise. There's a newer program to help relocate the kitten boom cats to other shelters, including out of state, which is nice. The local shelters here are so under funded, it's heart breaking, and there's just too many cats and not enough homes

That's absolutely a huge problem that never gets talked about. Every person I know that has a farm or property that just looks like it might have a barn has cats REGULARLY dumped there and every single one of those people hates it, even people that adore cats and keep taking them in. Rural people don't want your random fucking cats!!

You are exactly right that the rhetoric that cats are independent peak hunters is what increases the problem of cats getting dumped at rural homes. Another reason that outdoor cat people just couldn't give less of a shit of how their actions affect anyone outside of themselves.

Anyone that goes through this much work to help cats in the face of the overpopulation crisis is a godsend. They have the right to act morally superior to the idiots that refuse to change because they are

[fandom-imagination-ss]

Imagine: explaining to Derek your new recent family drama. Derek cannot believe it

"Eli if you dont hurry up right now! i'm leaving without you!"

Sitting at the island holding your cup of coffee listening to your husband threaten to abandon he's Son at home with you. you smiled screaming out "AND IF YOUR HERE YOU'LL BE HELPING ME CLEAN OUT THE BASEMENT!"

it was your day off and you planned to start doing a deep clean of every room in the house. you do it once a year. getting ride of things that hasn't been touched in a year, hasn't been used and help keep the house less cluttered. Derek was thankful to be stuck at work fixing a Car vs helping you. since he had super strength you made him carry all the heavier boxes.

Eli Dashed out of his room saying he was ready as Derek kissed you quickly goodbye before the boys left you to the madness that is Spring Cleaning.

One closet in the basment in, and you got a call from your grandparents about the Car they gave you in the summer.

your old Jeep finally had it. it was too experienced to Fix up, even with a great deal of having a Mechanic husband. that you decided to sell your Jeep for scraps. well, your Grandparents Heard from your Mom about you being without a Vehicle and they had a Car laying around on their farm so they gave it to you. you Figured your Husband could fix anything. so you agreed. and were thrilled to get a car that was Newer than your old Jeep it wasn't a Brand new car it was before 2015 but you were so thankful and appreciated the kind gesture.

you and Derek were told it was in "perfect" condition. which in your mind. meant it was in Perfect condition! but the moment you started the Car Derek heard a Funny sound and suggested he drive it. home and you take his truck. Derek didnt' want to cause trouble. your family had a hard time accepting him into the family. and after Five years together him and your family were finally in a good space and he didn't want to ruin it. So you took his truck.

Once Home he said you weren't driving that Car Not until he fixed it. the wheel was broken, the Seat broke, the Peddles were stiff, the aliment of the car was wrack, The Key Fob was broken.. but most importantly he was worried about your safety. you didn't think I was that bad since your grand parents said it was in "perfect" condition. Derek at that point seeing the doubt written all over your fact grabbed your shoulders giving you a reassurance squeeze.

"Babe I wouldn't even let Peter Drive this Car. it's a death trap- I'll fix it up. we can share the Truck for now"

the Shop was Busy. it was extremely busy so busy that Derke hasn't even had the time to bring the Car to the Shop to Fix. and having Only one vehicle working while you had work, he had work and having you drive Eli all around. it was exhausting. It was One day I desperately needed to go to the Store to buy milk. you were in the middle of making Cupcakes for a school function and needed milk, Derek too the car and you couldn't ask him to bring milk home cause he was working late. so you figured One little trip in your car wouldn't hurt.

well the Battery was Dead. you were warned before you got the keys that the back truck doesn't open with the "button' on the fob anymore and had to press a Level inside the Car to open the back trunk. NO problem! in theory.. the trunk didn't unhatch after you hit the level. After spending countless hours with Derek Figured. the Trunk level didn't pop it open because the Battery was Dead. so you would just jump star the Car, and get it opened No big deal!

WRONG-O! the battery for the Car is in the trunk... the back seat didn't fold down so you couldn't access the trunk that way. the Only way to access the Trunk was to press the level which didn't work because there was no battery left in the car to unhitch the Trunk. you tired putting the key in the back of the trunk door to see if you could manually unlock it that way but it was impossible!

After calling Malia to get you milk and to help with the Stupid Car. she got it enough power so you could open the trunk. then charge it. when Derek Finally had time to fix it. he realized Even more trouble. with the car. the Random. Kill switch bottom your grandpa got installed in the car, Which you had NO idea why anyone would want a kill switch in a car to Completely make the entire Car dead. Or how he used Duck tape to keep the pipe for the gas fumes up. with Duct tape and how he used Duct tape for the engine.. the Car ended up having Far more problems then your old Jeep. Derek could fix it. but ti would cost thousands. and even then. he had to order in a special piece that would fix having the kill switch option. And Derek figured it would Cost more to fix the car then what it was worth.

Derek being the supportive husband he is would have gone thru all that hassle to fix it up. and spend probably 3 months working on it every day after work. no complaints he knew how important your family was to you. and didn't want to rock the boat.

you However weren't willing to spend that much on the car. that you also learned was in a car accient that you weren't aware of. and that the inside of the Car Door.. was insulation Foam. in between the interier and the metal frame. to "pump out the dent" you were furious that your grandparents would dump this Car. a Car that was complete opposite of being in "perfect" condition onto you. clearly they just wanted it out of their yard and instead of paying the fee to get it removed. decided you could get it. since your husband is a mechanic. you didn't doubt Derek's abilities to fix the car. you knere he coudl fix anything. but the fact of the matter was.. you weren't willing to pay thousands for a old beat up car. that was in worst condition then your old car.

you went to your grandparents first before selling the car for scraps. offering them the chance to take the car back but they refused.

you happened to have found a retired man who had the exact same car years ago it was his wife's favorite car. and he wanted to fix it up as a surprise for her. you warned him all the issues but he said it was worth the time. so you sold it to him. and it was done.

Six months passed and now after cleanign the basement went out to work in the yard. it was Summer and you were sitting in the back yard having a drink after working in the yard all morning when your grandpa called.

"Hey do you have the number of the guy who you sold the car to?"

"maybe why?"

"Oh i left something inside the car and i wanted it back."

you knew personally there wasn't anything left in that car. you and Eli spent one Saturday cleaning it for the new owner and found a roll of electrical tape. when you said you cleaned out the car and found nothing. and he pushed back you should of realized that something was up... you found the guy's number and gave it to your grandpa. saying that whatever it was. even if it was in there and by chance you missed it. there wasn't a chance in Hell that the man still had it. but your grandpa was firm. and you didn't want to argue.

Less then an hour later a Police car drives up and parks in your laneway as you look up noticing it was Mr. Stilinksi . your best friends dad. you walked over whipping your hands from dirt on your pants as you smiled, "Hey mr Stilinksi... What did Eli do now?"

any time you see him it's for Eli. but he sighed heavily rubbing his face, "I'ts not- im here because of you.. did you sell a Kia 2016 Silver car to Albert Plant?"

you walked to the fench that sperated you as you spoke, "yea like months ago? why?"

"Y/n? where did you get that car from?"

"my grandparents. gave it to me in the summer- and I sold it Albert in October why?"

he sighed heavily as he spoke, 'Sorry Y/N. but i have to bring you in."

"What why?"

he softly turned you around as you heard the handcuffs Eli came home just at that time as he screamed what the fuck as you told him to get Derek to go to the police station." he quickly called his dad as you bickered with Mr. Stilinski as you were taken to the police car and drove away. being charged with grand thieft auto.

When Derek answered the call to Eli he didn't expect he's law-abiding Wife who doesn't even Jaywalk. to be arrested for grand theft auto. he said what loudly and banged his head on the truck he was right now rolled under. he cursed out.

"Dad what if she's charged and in is locked up for years? we can't survive without her.. your cooking sucks. and she's Y/n!"

Derek rolled out of under the truck he rubbed his forehead. Malia over heard the call as she asked what the fuck is happening. Derek spoke up.

"Eli- it's just a misunderstanding. you know your Mom- she Doesn't even tag the tags off the blankets cause it's a federal crime. this is just- Clearly the sheriff got the wrong person. i'll go and get her out and if not.. we will just break her out tonight and we run."

"you would do that?" Eli asked Derek could hear the strained voiced from his son that he has been crying.

"yea- cause lets face it i dont think either of us could survive without her anymore.'

Eli chuckled as Derek said he would go over and get Y/N and would be home soon. Once off the phone, Derek cursed out as he got up as Melia spoke up, "Keep me updated I'll finish up here." Derek thanked his cousin and ran off. getting to the police station to see you sitting at a table. across from an officer as Derek spoke, "She's not talking without a lawyer!"

looking up to See your husband. the moment he saw your eyes. he knew. you were furious. you were tensed up as the officer spoke, 'We aren't charging her- Sorry about this. Y/N."

you shook your head, "Not your fault.. it's my Dumb ass grandparents.. Can we GO!" there was no softness in your voice. Derek has only seen you this angry once. and that was when Scott decided to leave beacon hill abandoning a new werewolf. who was created by a wolf who was passing by. abandoning her. and he just left because he's last member of he's "pack" left. and he didn't want to stay in beacon hill anymore. So he left. you were furious you screamed him out on the phone, and then ended up going to the city and screamed at him in person calling him the worst 'True Alpha in history."

being a human you had no idea if that was true. but you were furious and you even ended up pouching a wall in frustration and you broke your hand. Derek ended up taking your pain away as he also took the kid in under his wind. and he broke away from Scott's pack.

The officer apologized again and you said it wasn't their fault again. and you stood up and grabbed Derek's hand and dragged him out.

getting into the truck you turned to see Derek as you spoke, "im going to need you to physically make sure I dont take the truck and Murder my damn grandpa."

"what the fuck is going on?"

you shook your head saying at home. you would explain. when you had a big BIG cup of kool-aid.. you wished it was some sort of liquor. with how furious you were. you could easily down a bottle of Vodka- well a tiny bottle. you dont' drink much . in your hand. getting home. Derek parked as you walked inside. to be bulldozed into a tight hug from Eli. as you hugged him tightly. kissing his head. once settled in the dining room. you took a big gulp of your drink as you spoke, "that car- that they gave us.. that piece of junk car?- remember i said yesterday they called looking for the new owners number cause they forgot something in the car?"

"Yea?" Derek stated as Eli spoke, 'what could be left in that car? we cleaned it for hours."

you nodded your head, 'I said the same thing.- well I gave them the number. cause maybe MAYBE I was wrong. and I didn't think anything weird about it- well they called Albert. and wanted him to Sell the car back to them dirt cheap like a few hundred dollars-Albert didn't and said it was he's and he spent thousands fixing it up.. then my grandpa told Him that he was sold the car illegally and he wanted his car back without hassle since I STOLE IT! from them and my inadpt husband who is- in my grandpa's words. "A incapable mechanic broke the car that badly when you were trying to fix just the steering wheel!"

"jesus," Eli called out as Derek held his palm under the table holding a fist.

you shook your head, 'So Naturally- Albert. who didn't want to give up the car- decided to call the police on Me. and said I sold him a Hot car. he wanted to deal with the police vs my grandfather.. While i was in the cells. Cause they Put me in a prison cell! My grandma. was on the phone with them. on her way to "handle the situation" told them. that I didn't steal anything it was a gift- and that her Dumb ass husband wanted the car back so they could take it on their camping trip they are going. and thought telling the man it was a stolen car would make him give it back.. at first they wanted to hear this from my grandpa- because he's the one in the report. but he refused to talk to the police because he was embarrassed! the ONLY reason I got out was because the car's last owner was my grandma. and she confirmed she gave it to me. and the car wasn't in good condition so she allowed me to sell it to Albert! It's Friday! if they didn't confess to their Bullshit! I would of been locked up till Monday when a judge could of saw me!"

there isn't many times that Derek or Eli are speechless. but listening to this. hearing it all laid out.. He was speechless.. you were finished your drink as you rubbed your face as you spoke, "She listened to him Lie about me being a mastermind thief- heard Albert say that he was calling the police. and then watched my grandpa just curse off being pissy about the car... Not Once did he think "oh what about Y/N!"

you finished your Kool-aid as you Really wished it was Rum. or sometihng that would calm your nevers.. Not Cherry Kool-aid.

"you should calm down- the baby.."

Eli commented as you sighed heavily rubbing your face. "yea- yea.. I " you were about to say you would go to the hot tub to relax. but you can't do that.. you had a list of things you can't do.. and you hated that.. you reached over grabbing Eli's hand. "pick something to order in.. I want a Milkshake." he nodded his head going up to the draw that had all the take out menus as Derek looked at you as you spoke, "we aren't naming the baby after either of them! they wont hear from me that Im pregnant. my dad can tell them- and we aren't Ever stepping foot on that property again! they are Dead to us!"

Derek didn't agree, he knew you would cool down in a few hours., the lastest Monday. it was after dinner. Eli went out with friends as you were flicking thru the channels on the tv. your Phone was blowing up. Derek took the calls. first from your mother, telling her you weren't in a good mindset to talk right now and just wanted to be left alone.

your grandfather called trying to spin the narrative in which Derek said that the police report filed on you Said it all. and that you weren't going to talk to him. he was less polite with him vs your mom.

then it was your grandma- in which. Derek was polite to say go fuck off. he talked to almost every family member on your side. before he gave up and turned off the phone.

you pulled him onto the sofa so you could snuggle him as you wrapped your arms around him as you spoke, "So instead of that big party we planned to have my entire family and yours over at the house to announce the pregnancy- I think we just have my parents and your family. and our friends. A Small gathering... and make it a No cell phone weekend. so my family doesn't Ruin it for us."

Derek nodded his head saying anything you wanted. you smiled brightly thanking him as you held him tightly. at least you could count on Derek to Not wrongfully accuse you of grand theft auto.

[alcoveofconcealment]

Wood Warping and Flying Brooms

Back in the day before Air Control was a thing flutes had this little quirk where they would sound different depending on the weather and season. This is becuase in hotter weather the wood would warp changing the shape thus changing the sound. Now Metal flutes were also a thing as well but would also experience warping. This is why a lot of instruments require specific storage conditions.

So what if it applied to brooms?

What if during the summer you got longer, looser, and slippier, control(Such as most turns ending up with more drift) but faster speed while in colder weather maybe things got more tighter?

Maybe some broom brands look to counteract this with built in heating and freezing charms? But in turn maybe the wood chips and looses it's enchantments faster causing more flying issues.

Or how about some brooms try less of a spell solution and more enchantments; carving out the middle to carves small runes for more stabilizing enchantments that would belong inside houses, then sealing up the inside hoping that it'll keep shape from inside to out?

This might cause other issues such as weight and doesn't deal with warping on the outside which could affect shape thus doesn't maximize the efficiency.

You could counter act that by making the runes 3d through metal castings(Like letter magnets but for magic symbols) that are then put down in interlocking order to make only certain runes interact with each other in the desired way? But then you might have to worry about the runes themselves warping or again, the weight issues. Plus the upkeep of the inners could pose a challenge for far less experienced broom riders and owners.

Some perhaps look at flutes for a solution, ending up with a glass handle broom? A cool design for the more fancy acrobatic type. This however could cause many problems, as sitting on heated glass or crystal in the summer is Not Great.

Well you could always put the crystal or glass as the base of the broom and then added wooden "furniture" for better writing.

But if you play Quidditch then this becomes a hazard. Instead of snapping due to hitting a blunder the broom would shatter. The shards could get caught in the wounds and while magical healing can fix up the wounds themselves the removal of shards is not part of standard healing. You better hope the following 'Accio Glass Shards' doesn't cause so many cuts that you're dead before the healing spells and potions can be given to you and work their magic.

Maybe that's what the different brands fight over, why some have preferences to certain kinds of brooms, why some might be cheaper than others outside of some just being "Newer Brooms".

[stalkedbytrains]

Untouched Horizons Timeline 3/-

Growth Period

-1555

Last surviving member of the second generation dies

None left living have direct memories of wide spread technology or anything from the homeworld really

-1554

First new house is made, splitting the largest house into two smaller

The new house and qiin are put last in the circle for administrative duties

-1551

Several houses split and we are now at 25 houses

The small forests are at prime harvesting stages now, so wood is going to slowly become more common, paper replacing pressed reed paper

-1524

Centennial!

-1511

The last big house is forcibly split under almost unanimous rule, the house has gotten too big and refused to split

Now at 43 houses

The last house refuses to acknowledge the new house and extremely stupid about the whole thing

The new qiin and the old qiin do not like each other at all, several petitions were made and all of them revoked by citing ridiculous inter-House rules

-1510

The zones have been recontextualized and restructured

The seasons have also been extended to make up for the increase in houses

-1449

House splits result in an odd number of Houses (62 -1 for administration) so one of the newer houses volunteer for scouting and contact duty

Birth of the house of the Untouched Horizons

-1448

Horizons officially granted its commission by unanimous vote and also granted a city charter (which is unprecedented)

Also comes with lots of rules about dealing with first contact as written in the words of old and by the council

Zlilt Thrork is built

-1440

Wild fire breaks out in the SW side of the island

Little loss of life but huge destruction of plant life

Great house determined to not be negligent but are at fault

Arguments over what to do with the land erupt but the house successfully argues that it is their land they should be able to do with it as they see fit

-1389

Untouched Horizons officially introduces deer to the island, with approval of everyone involved and after extensive testing in very controlled habitats

Brought to be pack animals and the long process of domestication has begun (easily 1,000 years before they are fully domesticated and evolve/bred to serve their functions more perfectly)

-1388

Things have been growing steadily

Constant supply of paper thanks to forests and mills

Glass is primary trade good

Advanced house splits: 84 houses over 82 zones with 51 mi2 per zone

Each season is now roughly 6 years long

The council is growing more and more useless as the great houses have more and more power that they wield between themselves side stepping the council

The sense of community hasn’t broken apart yet because of the ingrained sense of peoplehood between clans and such but loyalty to house is starting to supersede that

The stratification of the work is starting to get worse as more and more the shrar are the only ones doing the manual labor of trending to the plants

The deer domestication is going well but some have escaped but it’s a problem since they have no natural predators

Horizon is talking about bringing in dogs

-1349

Deer are officially being used as pack animals but they haven’t been fully domesticated yet but their usefulness has overridden any objections

Antlers have given rise to bone tools 

Metalworking is hard to do as there isn’t a great source of metal

-1346

Dogs keep deer under more control than before

Domestication progressing pretty well overall

Deer as pack animals allow for more remote zones to be made more viable and less terrible therefore the fight to remain on “good” land is lessened for now

All zones are currently non permanent sites but great houses start to specialize for better or worse

-1334

University formed in capital for great house qiins

Lesser university formed for jdargandins

(none of the shrar)

[mtreebeardiles]

So I finished the game and…

Hodge podge of thoughts and initial impressions now that I finished one run and am mostly through a second

First, the things I DID like:

Combat! I think the combat mechanics are possibly my favorite of the entire series. Fast paced and dynamic, with opportunities to freeze-frame and consider combinations as needed. I do think the skill trees could’ve been pared down a touch, but overall I had fun with it

The companions! I’ve liked everyone so far. I do like that they move about and talk to each other and have lives outside of Rook

Style change! I don’t care for the hyper realistic trend we see so often in AAA games and games in general these days, and sure some bits seemed a bit too on the cartoony side (esp the darkspawn), but I think the shift was overall good

Things I think could’ve been better/things I did not care for:

Pacing! Pacing, pacing, pacing! The game DOES have a 3 act structure but it feels arbitrary because there are like… several major events but only a few of them are treated as such 😂

Factions. Fun idea, poor execution. I would’ve preferred less faction options in favor of those factions being more robust/meaningful in a narrative sense. This isn’t DATV specific either, tbh, I feel like Inquisition dropped the ball on this too for the most part, it just feels more blatant here. DAO backgrounds my beloved (you can get away with so much more if you don’t have a voiced protag lol)

History. I know this was not easy to work out considering how many choices we made in previous games, and I appreciate that it made things difficult. That said, I do think they could’ve played with existing mechanics to address some of this, particularly major events: codexes and gossip and rumors, things that contradict and confuse so that veteran players can see the threads of their own choices in past games reflected in some capacity without the game necessarily having to hard commit to any of it.

And that kinda leads into a tie-in of both factions and history — some of these groups are well-known and established, such as the Wardens and Crows, and while I do think the Wardens didn’t deviate too much from previous games, the Crows… needed a little more attention imo. I think I recall seeing something about the writers not really being all that familiar with Zevran, and boy does it show. And that could’ve been an interesting point to explore! Zevran’s experience with the Crows v Lucanis’s, what that maybe suggests in terms of how different Houses conduct themselves and the compare and contrast of upbringing for Lucanis versus those recruited from orphanages or whore houses. I think it was a huge missed opportunity

And in that vein… Minrathous and the Shadow Dragons. Tevinter in general, really. I understand we’re only seeing a small subsect of a much larger city, but the overall impression it gives doesn’t really highlight established problems in Tevene society — particularly slavery. Mercar has it in their background that they broke up a slave ring iirc, but we don’t really see the impact of the different classes of citizens in-game. A few throw away lines by NPCs and it’d be too easy for a new player to just assume the slavery thing is just something the Venatori does, which is not historically true. It felt like a massive sanitization of history for reasons I don’t really get, especially with that background as Rook.

I think it would’ve been cool to maybe reduce factions to like… three. Maybe the new ones, but I could see the argument for the old ones, too. That’s not to say each faction couldn’t be included in some way, I just think limiting it for Rook an changing the mechanic around it could’ve opened up more narrative and mission centric quests to curry favor with those groups, while also giving us an opportunity to dig deeper into the newer groups. So like… factions being limited to the Watch, the Lords, and the Jumpers would give us insight to how other parts of Thedas have been getting along over the years compared to Ferelden, Orlais, etc, and we can try to recruit Wardens, Shadows, and Crows to our cause. Idk I’m just spitballing on how I might’ve done it 🤔

This is a criticism I’ve made of ME2, and I think it applies here as well: big meal, but a lot of empty calories. Though in DATV’s defense, this meal was a lot better than ME2’s, especially in terms of companion quests 😂

So, yeah. Just my initial thoughts. Overall I had fun and am still having fun, but there’s definite room for improvement, especially in terms of world-building and narrative choices

[max-nico]

I just wanna let you know that your writing is living rent free in my mind and is actively fueling my sonic obsession ♥️♥️♥️/pos

If you're still doing them do you have any headcanons for Knuckles Sonic and Shadow? (the blorbos)

AHHHHH thank you sm sm !!! 🫶🏾🫶🏾

I'm unsure if you mean separate or as a team/working together so I'll try to squirrel in a little of both. I hope this is to your liking 🔥

As a team

I'm pretty sure any team with Sonic on it is just referred to as team Sonic ngl, I don't know what they would be called anyway? Just bc they have so many conflicting traits

They'd probably end up with something generic like team Force or smthn

They all have a music preference but don't mind the music the others listen to

They bond mostly by beating each other up. It's all in good fun. Kinda.

All three of them are quiet one on one but are nothing except overstimulating when together

Sharing Tails is actually the worst thing to ever happen to them, as well as Tails. They fight constantly. All the time.

They rarely ever actually say things that would cause emotional damage, and they're all horrible at apologizing, but they're all learning together. Since everyone understands hating emotional vulnerability so well they cut each other some slack

Normally only two people are fighting at the same time, allowing the other one to act as a mediator. Though, three-way fights aren't unheard-of, and they usually get over it after punching each other a bunch instead of talking through it

Shadow and Knuckles take great joy in teaming up against Sonic when he gets too cocky

Group costume except they all showed up as the same thing on accident and started brawling because of it

Argue like brothers. Everyone is tired of them. Everyone. However, when it comes down to it if you upset one of them you upset all of them. Especially if you upset Sonic, the other two have way less restraint than him. You will get jumped I fear

None of them keep track of anything. They lose things constantly. Important documents? Yeah they're gone. Why'd you even give them those? At this point it's your fault you know how they are. Shadow is the only one with an excuse (I headcanon Shadow still suffers from short term memory problems many years after his not-really death)

None of their sleep schedules line up. Ever. Someone is always running on empty and is cranky all day.

Separate

Sonic is an early bird and takes naps throughout the day. Shadow is a night owl and doesn't really need to sleep as much as the average person. Knuckles goes to sleep super super early and has the sleep schedule of an old man

Shadow spends a lot of time trying to figure out newer technology. Despite being the ultimate lifeform it just really doesn't come naturally to him

Knuckles is the same way except he doesn't care, and only really tries when Tails asks him to

Sonic ends up being shorter than most if not all his friends and is very salty about it

Sonic and Knuckles are audhd

Shadow is autistic OCD <- projecting

Shadow's house is covered in incense. Every room has one. They're all lavender scented.

Shadow hates change, Sonic has mixed feelings

Knuckles is a chronic headache haver. Like no wonder he's always in a bad mood, do you know how hard it is to get Advil when you live on a floating rock

It's okay, Knuckles has tons of natural/organic remedies for most sickness anyway

Sonic is really good at charades

Shadow is super sentimental and refuses to admit it, he has lots of old mementos that he simply refuses to acknowledge but can't bring himself to throw away

Knuckles is fluent in multiple dead languages

Sonic and Knuckles are both super into geography, one is way better than the other one at it but you can choose which is which lol

Knuckles likes grapes but can't stand any of the faux grape flavors of processed foods. He wants grape flavor not purple flavor.

On the same wavelength, he doesn't really f/w processed food in general. He spends most of his time foraging and making his own foods from scratch, most processed foods make him sick

[ariainstars]

TBBT: Raj Koothrappali Was Not „Done Dirty Due to Racism“

My five cents about this topic, since I’ve come across it a few times.

The Big Bang Theory is a sitcom that thrives on clichés and openly, often tactlessly pointing out other people’s quirks and failures. All kinds of groups get relentlessly teased - men, women, nerds, sexy girls, Indians, Texans, Jews, and so on. I get it that it’s not everybody’s kind of humor.

However, all of the characters undergo a huge personal growth; if you’re not sure about that, you only have to watch one of the newer episodes and then one of the episodes from Season 1 or 2.

Raj Koothrappali is the character who grows and develops most than all the others, and what’s more, he does so on his own.

He overcomes his selective mutism when he realizes that deep down, he’s convinced of being “unlovable”: an insight he finds on his own. A major problem of the nerds the show is about is their preoccupation with finding a girlfriend / lover / wife. Before and after he overcomes his mutism, Raj has more girlfriends and hook-ups than any of the other guys. He decides to stop living on his parent’s money. He moves out of the place where he lived and starts making a home of his own (none of the other guys move to another place). He finds a much better and more prestigious job. He stops straightening his hair. He chooses not to marry Anu, a woman he doesn’t have anything in common with.

Leonard, a main character, pursues Penny until they finally are married; that’s all that happens for him. She becomes pregnant, which closes the circle to their first meeting when he said that “their children would be both beautiful and intelligent”; however, that pregnancy was an accident.

Howard meets Bernadette because Penny sets the two of them up. He becomes a father, and both times it was not planned. He always lives in his mother’s house. He never gets an upgrade or a better job; Bernadette keeps teasing him about the fact that he earns less than she does.

Sheldon develops a theory of his own which finally earns him his long-awaited Nobel prize. He gets married. He moves out from the place he used to live in with Leonard, to live only across the hall.

For good measure: Stuart.

His comic book shop finally becomes successful due to an online review. He meets Denise because he employed her. He moves in with her at her suggestion.

Not only does Raj come much further than the other guys, most of the changes in his life are not coincidences, decisions made for him by other people or things he does together with others, but actual choices.

It’s true that in the end he is the only one of the bunch who is single, but I believe that it was the best wrap-up for his character.

Anu's relationship with Raj had been arranged by both their parents; she made him an offer of marriage herself. Raj only had to relent to her and their families and everything would have seemed all right. But although knowing her helped him grow for a while, he wasn’t in love with her, and quite rightly Howard, who knows him better than anyone else, pointed it out to him.

Raj is a hopeless romantic; he would have to meet a romantic girl and have a romantic love story with her, and that wouldn’t be fitting for a sitcom.

Penny’s development similarly was criticized because “she wanted to be an actress”. That was kind of the point. Penny matured enough to realize that she’s not good at acting, so she trained and made efforts to make career elsewhere, this time with success.

Choosing to stay single requires a lot of courage, in particular if all of your friends are married or paired up. Realizing that it’s better to be alone, respectively to wait until you meet someone who is actually the right person, is a sign of maturity, not of failure.

I can’t see any racism or misogyny in all of this; quite the contrary. Letting go of something that’s wrong for you is not the same as giving up a dream.

Therefore, I'm perfectly fine with how this show ended.