#please don’t start any discourse

[malachitezmeyka]

Ah yes, Magnificent Century, or as I like to call it – “Why the fuck are the most likely Ukrainian girl and the Crimean Tatar woman speaking Russian to each other, what were the writers smoking???”

[stealingyourteeth]

i like to think im funny sometimes

[purecommemasolitude]

There’ve been criticisms about Darry being too mean or too cruel in the musical, and I get where those people are coming from, but — and speaking as someone who hasn’t seen or listened to it but has listened to the soundtrack and follows the information account like the paper — I think this phenomenon stems from two things

First, on the side of the discussers, a lack of exposure to the musical as an actual piece of material instead of (occasionally very out of context) lines or screenshots. Obviously seeing the musical, even if one lived in New York, would be expensive as all get out, and even audios and boots are pretty hard to find for this show, but there are many details and contexts that change how lines on the page should be interpreted that simply cannot be gleaned through, well, lines on the page. As someone who has dabbled in acting & directing, and has spent time analyzing play texts in depth, delivery and direction can change everything. The entire sentiment of a line can be the opposite of what you’d expect if you took the line at face value, and unless that’s explicit in the stage directions, it can go unrealized if one is merely reading the script (which, as an aside, is exactly why I find analyzing play excerpts tricky — because without a performance or direction, scripts are often so ambiguous and versatile that they could go any way). And honestly, despite also being someone who unfortunately does not benefit from first hand knowledge of the musical, I feel like this is very evident in discussion of Darry in the show. For example, none of his lines in, say, Runs in the Family (Reprise) should be taken at face value, because if you’ve even listened to the song you can tell he’s completely spiralling and hitting a breaking point. This is a state that, historically, causes people to say things they’d never believe in real life. We’re not meant to believe Darry would ever walk out on his brothers, we’re meant to hear him talk about it and understand how deep of a breakdown he is having. As a less obvious example, from what people online have said, Darry spends the last twenty or so minutes of the musical in tears. Again, the things he says here aren’t necessarily the things he believes, or things that he’s expressing coolly or off-handedly because they line up 1:1 with his worldview, they’re things he says when he’s desperate and struggling and has no idea what the correct path is when his brother & responsibility has effectively been comatose since the deaths

Which brings me to my next point!

One of the most known things about the musical, even to people who aren’t very familiar with it, is that it goes more in-depth on Darry’s trials and tribulations, so to speak. He gets one solo at status quo, another (mostly) solo when he gets his breakdown, and a (mostly) duet in his own self-described darkest hour during Pony’s absence. All three of these songs go into detail about what his life is like and how much he’s been struggling, and even songs that aren’t about him emphasize this feature of his more than in the book: his description by Ponyboy in Tulsa ’67 & Great Expectations reminding the audience of his life’s path, his verse in GGAH making it clear that his life is a very different one with arguably more severe burdens compared to the other boys. Other than the three most important characters of the original narrative, he is now undoubtedly the most important and developed character — which makes sense in a musical format, because with the story of The Outsiders it would’ve been pretty much impossible to do a true ensemble cast other than the main three while doing any of them justice, especially if they’d kept Steve as a principle (rip king). But I digress. In my opinion, being clearer on Darry’s hardships actually gives the musical space to show him as saying crueller things, to have him make more mistakes and mess up worse. In the book, we’re clearly meant to sympathize with him by the end, but we only get Ponyboy’s infamously flawed and unreliable narration as the lense through which to view him. As such, if we went too hard into Darry messing up, while 3/4 of the book have Ponyboy going “yeah Darry’s a rock and doesn’t love me or anyone”, he ultimately would’ve come across a lot worse and a lot harder to “redeem” in the eyes of the reader (personally I never disliked him, but I’ve seen enough accounts of people who hated him on their first go at the story to know it is not an uncommon sentiment). He already slaps his brother and argues with him all the time; it would’ve been even more legwork to make him liked if he’d also been saying harsher things and making more mistakes. In the musical, however, we get that objective perspective that’s missing in the book. Ponyboy’s not narrating to us the lyrics of Throwing in the Towel, he’s not even present for the events of Throwing in the Towel! It’s a lot easier to understand and forgive mistakes if one is familiar with the psyche behind those mistakes, and the musical delivers that psyche to us at every turn. Because the audience understands Darry Curtis and how hard it is for him to hold on, the audience also has more understanding and forgiveness for when he’s spiralling. It’s also just a more specific proof of his plight — three songs with first-hand, emotionally explicit lyrics penetrate the uninvested understanding a lot easier than a second-party description of circumstances. Due to its nature and promotion of Darry’s importance, the musical simply gets more freedom to show an arguably more realistic version of him.

Also, I do believe that Darry in the musical is just that much closer to the edge than he is in the book, which is a valid character choice in an inherently emotional and transformative medium such as the musical adaptation 🤷🏻‍♀️

[ocpdzim]

star trek prodigy fans how old do we think zero is., we’re trying to figure out if they’re the one adult supervising all these kids or if they’re another kid bc those are two pretty different reads on their character

[psilliguykai]

I completely agree with everything on this post, but I do have a genuine question if you don’t mind: how do you think we should be tagging/labeling things, if at all?

I am somewhat uncomfortable with romantic jashipping for personal reasons. I understand what you’re saying about relationship hierarchies and I agree ! I don’t really view romance as necessarily “above” other relationships, it just specifically feels icky to me (again, not saying it’s inherently bad, just not for me personally). I really like having clarity on what the relationships being featured in what I’m viewing/liking/reblogging etc. are, and would really appreciate artists labeling their work with the intended relationship (or if there’s not specific intent, stating as such).

I’m very open to changing my views on this if you disagree with the idea of tagging relationships specifically, but was wondering if you think it would be reasonable to. Idk .. I guess try to popularize putting like. “platonic”/“queerplatonic”/“romantic” [insert ship name here] ? Or still using “jash/cjshipping” but following it with the type of relationship? [e.g platonic jashipping, romantic jashipping, etc.]

I don’t personally feel quite bothered enough by shipping to block tags, but having at least semi-universal labels for different types of relationships [instead of what I think we have now which is basically . “This is a ship” and “this is not labeled as a ship” which I feel is too vague for the complexity of the relationships expressed in this fandom] could help people who are severely uncomfortable with it block tags, etc.

Other people can jump in too, and absolutely no pressure OP to respond! Genuinely if you need me to delete this feel free to send an ask or smth, the last thing I want to do is cause more arguments. I’m just genuinely curious about this and I want to find a way to explore different relationships in this fandom while still keeping everything comfy and groovy n stuff :]

+ since it's aro awareness week, I'll finally unleash that rant on why the state of shipping discourse in this fandom bothers me

disclaimer that i am not saying you can't be uncomfortable with jashshipping!! I don't really like romantic shipping in this fandom either. this is just a commentary on the culture surrounding this discourse and fandom shipping in general. OK LET'S GO.

I've noticed this weird distinction people make between platonic and romantic art in regards to what gets the "jashshipping" tag added. it's also incredibly arbitrary what kinds of posts are considered "jashshipping" - is a qpr jashshipping? why not? they're in a relationship. why does it matter if it's romantic or not? why is romance the only kind of shipping seen as valid, either positively or negatively?

on a personal level, I feel this pressure to always clarify that I'm not talking about romantic pairings. qprs, close friendships and relationship anarchy in general aren't seen as jashshipping, and it feels like I need to preemptively devalue my queerplatonic ships by saying they "don't really count." I need to be careful about my work not being "too romantic" or people assume I'm "jashshipping." i just find it demeaning as a partnering aromantic person.

and this culture is why people who enjoy non-romantic pairings don't want them to be tagged as ship - because there's this implication that a ship HAS to mean romance. it shouldn't, but it still does. it would be great if we lived in a world where shipping meant any kind of relationship between two characters instead of just referring to romance, but we don't.

this is why I tag ship names without tagging it as jashshipping. because the nature of "shipping" in this fandom is always implied to be romantic in nature, which is what makes it the most taboo to discuss. so I don't tag it as jashship because that's only used for romance {or for what the fandom perceives as inherently romantic actions, which is another can of worms entirely}. but elevating a romantic ship to a higher negative standard is still placing romance above any other form of relationship. there's still a hierarchy in place.

I don't think ships as a whole {hah} need to be defined by romantic attraction. it's short for relationship, after all. to designate ships as ONLY romantic implies that romance is the only valid type of relationship. and to designate romantic ships as uniquely bad still implies romance is a unique type of bond.

{I also have an issue with the implication that dating what is essentially your headmate is selfcest by default, but that's another discussion}

TL;DR - I think the culture around what designates something as "jashshipping" should be viewed with more scrutiny. it's very amatonormative to assume pairings with any level of closeness is "jashshipping," and it implies a hierarchy of relationships even if that hierarchy is negative. jashship works as a content tag for anyone uncomfortable with romantic pairings, but to imply it's an objective judgment on what's considered romance is reductive.

[plaidos]

oh of course 4chan is not currently unique as so epicenter of fascism, things are definitely like what you’re describing. i thought her post was talking about y’know the whole timeline of these boards since they’re origination and how culturally responsible they are for fascism on the internet

are you saying i read it wrong? i’m not even sure if i understand the context of why the post was even made, and that’s absolutely my fault for not fully investigating before i even sent the ask but when i tried to investigate a few days ago i couldn’t figure it out

also please don’t act like it was only TERFs that disagreed with the post lmao you can absolutely disagree with a trans woman about something without being transmisogynistic - but obviously not if you start a smear campaign insinuating that said trans woman is a pedo

this whole thing is stupid, but i mainly mean the response to it. like even if i do disagree with her post she should be allowed to make it without all of this - it certainly wasn’t bad enough to warrant how pissed off people got about it, no less the fucking brigade of TERFs and their crypto TERF leader trying to make flippant false accusations about her and derail and make it about race

i’m just completely lost at this point like. also yeah i can block you after you respond to this, but i’m asking all this genuinely and need clarification/want your opinions on it

i mean this is what happens when you weigh in on discourses that you have no context for right? like do you really expect me to go awwww poor baby you forgot to actually look at what people were saying and accidentally agreed with a bunch of terfs 🥺

harassment against trans women on this website follows a cycle. first a trans woman says something very reasonable. then terfs and cryptoterfs launch a harassment campaign calling her a nazi pedophile. then chucklefucks like you see there’s discourse, and zero context have to the conclusion “ah probably the middle ground is true… these people misrepresenting what she’s saying are probably lying about her being a nazi pedophile, but telling the truth about how stupid and wrong she is”

Like, sorry, if you’re willing to just jump on any trans woman you see being pedojacketed with the footnote of “well i don’t think she’s a pedophile i just think the people calling her a pedophile are being honest about her other values” and then pretend that you’re a principled, reasonable person weighing up a discourse. nobody asked your opinion. nobody asked you to weigh in. you showed up and CHOSE to contribute to a harassment campaign of a woman that you didn’t even read the fucking post of.

[gb-patch]

GB Patch Games: Sensitivity Reader Update

Okay, well I am able to make another statement before Rose does. I can now explain much more easily why I didn’t fire Rose. There’s been new developments with the leakers. The people behind this have doxed Rose’s discord account (please don’t go looking for it) and also shared a screenshot of an email that was sent to my support address months ago. They believe that incriminates us somehow, but really all it’s done is shown in broad daylight what they were doing and why I was defending Rose so much. If I had brought up that email as a connection to this myself people understandably would’ve thought I was making a conspiracy.

However, it is out now. Here is the story- a few months ago someone who wanted to remain anonymous sent me an email with a screenshot where Rose called me a cracker. And I told them I appreciated the concern but it’s alright, was there evidence of Rose being unkind to players? They had nothing. No response.

As an aside, yes, I have been aware for a long time that Rose uses crude language when talking about me. That doesn’t mean I’ve hidden how evil they were from players. It means I’m allowed to choose what I’m comfortable with. That original “reveal” didn’t shock or upset me in any way. Our Life is a sensitive, wholesome game, but I’m a full-grown adult. I’m not innocent or pure. The game I released before OL is XOXO Blood Droplets. Something I wrote and released to the public is full of crude jokes, curse words, and violence. It’s cartoonish and comical, but edgy. Rose themselves likes to BS with bad words and I’m not accepting abuse because I think getting called a pussy is funny. I know Rose doesn’t hate me or wish me any harm. Rose also isn’t causing “discourse” for me and my games on purpose, they were joking that bringing up serious topics is “discourse” to some people. Ironically, the leakers who did this are trying to make some “discourse” on purpose.

Regardless, I initially thought that email was from someone earnestly worried for me and that they moved on when it was clear I was fine. But that’s not what happened. Them and at least one other person have been waiting for months to bring this up again. They went through almost a year’s worth of Rose’s private posts to collect as many unflattering screenshots as they could, and then they didn’t send them to me. They posted them publicly. I had a suspicion from the get go that it was the same person/people from before who couldn’t prove anything to me in private. And if true, how horrible is it that a bunch of the comments they shared were crude language towards me, something they already knew I’d brush off as nothing. They decided for me that it was wrong and they wanted the rest of the players to do the same. Or even less charitably, those extra posts were simply there to make Rose look as bad and untrustworthy as possible and they didn’t care that I was comfortable with it. I could not explain everything we were thinking/feeling at first, but behind the scenes we were discussing how this was personally motivated and not a knee-jerk act without forethought. And we do know for certain at least the main people involved now, and they do have personal issues with Rose.

Also, if you still believe that they just wanted to help the game at any length because Rose is that huge of a risk, showing that email and framing something innocuous about me (not fainting at the word “cracker” and politely being open to more proof) as serious “evidence of wrongdoing” at GB Patch Games makes me believe they want to smear Rose so bad they’ll try to turn players against me as well. Plus, the post is framed as “this email was anonymously sent to me”, but we know from account details that the people who could’ve gotten those screenshots of the discord and email are the same people who sent that email and started this situation, which is embarrassing. I’ve confirmed the screenshots shared in the email to me and the original public post came from the same private, “venting-safe” discord server. There’s very few people in there. We know it’s still you and not a separate source. I can’t prove they think I’m stupid or in their way, but I can’t see how anything they’re doing is trying to be beneficial to the creation of OL: NF. They told me in the email they’d give me more evidence if I requested it and I was ready to know, but instead they went silent for months and then did this.

I want it to be clear that this doesn’t mean players can’t wonder if Rose has enough experience to be a sensitivity reader right now, or to worry they’re so invested in the game that it’s going to effect how objective they are with their feedback, or to say that Rose is flawless and has never done anything hurtful. However, I hope you can understand why I was on Rose’s side and couldn’t just fire them over this. It felt so incredibly unfair. If another person tries to get their way by doing this in the future, I will not hail them as a hero and immediately fire at the target. And I don't tolerate any racial harassment of any kind to anyone on my team.

If those people want to continue to share Rose’s private posts in retaliation, you can fuck off. If you somehow reveal now that Rose is secretly a murderer, I’m not gonna apologize and say I was so wrong about you. If you had tons of evidence of Rose being horrible to players, you should’ve sent it all to me and with full context to begin with in the email like you offered to do. I just don’t understand.

Any players who like to see someone’s least flattering points portrayed in the worst possible way and continue flocking to the leaks as fandom drama, I don’t want you in this fandom. I don’t want you to enjoy my games.

Anyone who has been truly hurt by this and are left confused and angry, I do completely understand that. I didn’t know how to handle this, and it made a lot of people not know how to keep trusting me. I am still looking into getting a community manager to help me better communicate with players, especially when something serious happens. And I’ll always be around for you to reach out to if you have doubts about anything.

[signanothername]

Psa:

Please don’t tag my art as ship, or even say/imply that there is any romantic/sexual undertones to an art I made unless I explicitly stated it to be the case

If something is supposed to be a ship or actually have romantic or sexual undertones, I will be tagging it as such myself, or explicitly state it, otherwise, everything I make of any two or more characters is strictly platonic

Another psa: if you ship dream///mare, more power to you, I don’t care what you do on your own blog, fandom etiquette is a thing and I follow said etiquette, I curate my online experience and filter stuff out, but when you’re on my blog, don’t tag my own art as dream///mare, it makes me uncomfortable

Another psa: this doesn’t just apply to dream///mare, but any ship at all, don’t tag my art as ship unless I actually put the ship tag myself

Learn to let platonic things be platonic, unless the artists themselves state it’s ship, learn not to force your ships down their throats, take the art as it is

And a final psa: don’t use this post to start ship discourse, or discuss anything regarding ships, do me a favor, and reblog this silently if you wish to reblog it, let the breeze take this post down the confines of time as it collects dust

[amelee23]

Waiting for the rain to fall | Lmh

 Synopsys: Minho takes a vacation to the rural area to escape his nightmares. Instead, he finds drought and desolation in the fields and begins to question why he feels so condemned; what exactly his soul searches for.

Genre: Reunited past life lovers, Romance, Angst, Fluff, Supernatural

Pairing: Lee Minho x female reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Minho-centric in the beginning but the romance appears I swear, reader is perhaps not a human, mentioned character death (in past lives), there's comfort to the angst, discourse on divinity and Gods, happy ending (?), reader has female pronouns, one natural disaster

A/N: Written completely based off the picture above. Before the video even came out.

Please reblog and comment! 

“Wake up.

It’s raining.”

A soft female voice spoke these words to Minho, in a dream, somewhere far away in the hidden parts of his mind, and yet so close to his first waking moments; it was almost as if feather-like lips briefly grazed his ears as he stirred awake.

As the morning light greeted his tired eyes, he realized that he was spared from nightmares the past night. This familiar, kind voice was somewhat comforting, although he couldn’t tell who it belonged to - a figure of his imagination, a distant memory, repeated words of romance movies? Still, the fact that he wasn’t troubled by disturbing images in his sleep brought him a sense of peace, and so he was able to have a calm start to his day. Vintage style, he boiled water in a kettle and mixed it with coffee and sugar, stirring it generously to create delicious foam. As he ate his toast and drank his coffee, he stared into the looming nothingness of the fields.

He had returned to the farmhouse, a place he doesn’t frequently visit and yet it always calls to him. The house belonged to the elders of the family, but after deciding it was better for their health to move them to the city and closer to the rest of the family, they sold the house to the neighbours. Having grown up with said neighbours, Minho is allowed to visit whenever he likes, to use the spare room and relax in nature. 

That morning everyone else was already out in the field - he decided against joining them on the first day of his vacation. Truth be told, he was exhausted. The lack of sleep and stress ran him dry, and as much as he knows working the fields will bring his soul some healing, he wants to take it slow in the beginning. So, he grabbed one of the books he packed, stepped outside into the hot sun and sat on the porch. It was just him, Jules Verne, and the dry cracked earth around the house.

The sea monster, the submarine and underwater adventures described by Jules Verne trapped Minho in a bubble, a bubble of air floating in and out of the water, in and out of existence. Before he knew it, despite the cup of coffee he had just drunk, he became drowsy and fell asleep.

“I don’t blame you for leaving me behind.” The voice said, gently, like a whisper, a song of the sirens harmonizing with the chaotic percussion of the waves hitting against each other. The water was flowing, and it was bubbling, and it was restless. Without any mercy, he was being strung along the waves, without any rock to hold on to, without any trace of another human in sight. It was raining, and it was cold, and it was violent. But more than anything, the water threatened to swallow him whole, drown him in a river of guilt.

He was guilty, is what he thought upon waking up. His hands were shaking and he was drenched in sweat, and a dull ache clawed at his heart, making him regret something unknown, making him long for something he cannot describe, making him search for answers to a question he didn’t know how to phrase. 

Since being alone didn’t do him any good, Minho decided to join his old neighbours on the fields. Driving down the beaten path stirred up clouds of dust in his wake, and Minho wondered how come the situation had become so dreadful. Exactly as imagined, he found his peers having a heated debate over the poor crop condition.  

“The irrigation system simply cannot keep up. Fertilizer doesn’t help, and even changing the seeds was useless. It’s been months since this drought… “

It was quite silly, he thought. Searching for an alternative solution to the obvious one was foolish and useless. It was like searching for a needle in a haystack, chasing after something that does not exist. The only thing that could possibly solve the drought is the rain. 

Minho was very disappointed in his vacation. There was little to no fieldwork to be done, and to add to that, his nightmares didn’t seem to ease up. When he felt the call to visit the farmhouse, he thought it was his intuition telling him he needed a break from the city, from work, from the bustling social life. He had thought that the cozy rural life, the fresh food and the return to simple things would heal him, but it wasn’t so. The next night Minho woke up with his throat burning, his nose aching, hands springing to hold his neck. He was suffocating, his whole being was clogged up, filled up with something very foreign and very confusing. 

In his anxious, frantic movement, there was a sudden jolt of the elbow which resulted in him tipping over his glass of water which was on the nightstand. He went to get out of bed to clean, but as his feet left the bed, they landed in the puddle of water. He cringed at the feeling. It was cold.  

Usually, harvest season was a very fulfilling time for Minho. Even though the crops weren’t his and he’d earn no money from helping, he always would. Something about the hard work, the physical labour, was very rewarding to him. Seeing the baskets of goodies before him and the look of joy in people’s eyes when they bought fresh ingredients from the market, it was all he needed. The air was fresher, the people were kinder, and although lady nature sometimes had something to say in the matter, it felt as if people were really getting fair rewards for all the hard work they did.

However, fair is not a word Minho would use while looking at the fields this year. They have been looking inside shallow holes for potatoes for hours now, and the results were disappointing to say the least. The potatoes were either really small or shrivelled up beyond belief, with not a lot left to salvage. The tomato harvest was also subpar, and the barrels were mostly devoid of grapes. 

Seeing the barrels lined up in front of the house with nothing inside them gave Minho an uneasy feeling. The fields were empty, the barrels were empty, there was this looming sense of absence, of loss, filling the air.  

The nightmares wouldn’t stop, either. He kept being carried by the currents, rolling down a river with no beginning and no end, with no control over his destiny. All of these water related dreams made him conflicted about the coming of rain; it was the one thing this town needed to be revived, and yet, after spending so many nights drowning, Minho was afraid the rain might be the end of him, the end of everything. 

Exhaustion began to make itself known on his body; he had deep circles under his eyes, his hands were shaking while holding his coffee; he became clumsy and grumpy. Yet, he refused to lay down and rest, he pleaded to be taken back into the fields, because the bed and his mind terrified him. He was starting to realise he was truly, terribly, unwell.

Despite his pleas, his neighbours refused to allow him to come along and told him to relax at the farmhouse for the day. It was exactly what Minho didn’t wish to happen, for the loneliness made reality be a little too real. When people were around he could pretend he was alright, he could pretend to belong, but in the deafening silence he could hear the water splash inside his skull. 

He had always been alone, even in the city. The escape from the urban to the rural was mostly an excuse, the search for silence was a ruse. He was running away from loneliness in a place where he wouldn’t feel guilty for being alone. And yet, as he looked out the window at the blazing sun and listened to the house settle and creak, he realized he didn’t wish to be alone. He wished for something other than dread to fill his heart, to complete him and take away from the burden of dealing with himself every day. A selfish request, maybe, but he desperately wished that someone would know him, that someone would let him know what exactly he’s lacking. 

Perhaps he shouldn’t be alone, perhaps he should stop running away from his issues. Those are the thoughts he had as he began to pack his luggage and fill in the trunk of his car. It was time he returned to the city to seek the help of a professional who would know how to deal with these dreadful nightmares. 

The owners of the farmhouse didn’t consider letting him drive alone was a good idea, but they couldn’t stop him. Minho had an almost scary look in his eyes, like a man on a mission. He was barreling on through another attempt at escapism.

He kept telling himself that things will work out. He will seek medical help, read some self development books and finally figure himself out. Nature couldn’t have helped him when his issues were so much more deep than he thought. 

Without any sort of prior warning, his car stopped moving. Exasperated, after checking the fuel gauge, Minho exited his car to inspect the wheels. He couldn’t see any flat tire with the naked eye, which most likely meant it was a very sudden engine issue. While he did open the hood of the car and looked inside, he wasn’t skilled enough to know what was wrong, if anything was wrong at all. Plopping himself back into the driver’s seat, he decided to call the farmhouse neighbour, since he had some mechanical knowledge. Thankfully, there was service, and Minho was informed it would take a while before he could be aided. 

With a long, deep sigh, he lowered his head onto the steering wheel and closed his eyes.Things weren’t meant to work in his favour, maybe. Perhaps he was being punished for something he did in a past life, something he was unaware of. Whatever god he might have pissed off, he was ready to beg and to repent, to plead sweet mercy for his soul. 

“Please.” He whispered softly to himself, to no one in particular. Life was being really, really tough and unfair to him, and he could feel himself tethering on the edge. 

A certain booming sound attracted Minho’s attention, and he lifted his head up in a hurry. Looking through the windshield, he observed something which left his mouth agape.

The sky was dark. 

Grey, almost black.

He rushed out of the car and slammed the door behind him, taking a few brave steps in front of the car. Through the branches of the trees he could see that darkness loom over; that darkness brought to Minho a new sense of hope. As he stood, mouth half open and eyes glued to the sky above, the first splat or rain landed on his face. Then another, then another.

He was done running. Minho opened his arms to welcome the rain, to let her drown him if that’s what she wished. The cold droplets trickling down his neck send rejuvenating shocks throughout his body. He took one long breath and realized he could finally breathe.  

Every pit and every pat of rain hitting his leather jacket was like a whisper, a little secret he was being told, of divinity, of the beyond…

He could barely keep his eyes open with the intensity of the rain. He was completely drenched but he didn’t mind, the cold was completely bearable, the water was familiar and comforting. Extending one arm forward, to catch some drops in his palm, to hold the hand of rain, he noticed a faint glowing silhouette form in front of him. It was an outline almost of mist, a living creature, pale and shining like the water surface of the Arctic. 

The silhouette began to shape into a woman with human traits, her ghostly appearance being contrasted by the kind and warm smile she wore. Carefully arranged into her hair was a slim, silver crown which draped one single blue crystal on her forehead. The ethereal crystal told Minho she was the rain, the Goddess herself.

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen; in fact, she was the only beautiful woman in the world. 

She reached for Minho’s outstretched hand, and when they touched he shivered - that shiver shook his heart to such a degree that he felt like he finally awoke. He felt he finally understood something.

“My love…” He said to her, and the glistening droplets on her face were not rain drops, they were tears. “My wife.” He stepped close to her, grasping her other hand. All the love he had been storing in his body suddenly burst out, and although he couldn’t fully understand how he knew she was his lover, he was certain of it.

“My darling heart…” She spoke to him, softly, sweetly, with that voice that has been watching over him for so many months.

“Please, help me understand. I’ve been searching for you my whole life, I’ve been missing you until I fell to pieces… Please.” He pleaded, urgency in his voice. As if he was fragile, he dropped his hands and held his head, slowly dragging his forehead towards her. The moment he made contact with the crystal droplet, Minho’s memories came back.

He was born the son of a farmer of the village. He loved his parents, he was a good kid. When he grew older, he fell in love with the daughter of the shepherd. They were two simple people, they loved the smell of rain, the cold air of the morning, they danced and played in the rain, in between the apple trees and herd dogs. They got married, he took over his father’s land and she began to spin wool just like her mother. 

Disaster struck them at the end of summer; neverending rain would destroy their roofs, give people the shivers, drown and kill the crops. While they were trying to stay warm inside the house, speaking warmly to each other of better futures, of beautiful future children, the river overflowed and the entire village was swept in merciless waves. 

There was screaming, there was crying, and there was water. Water destroyed their houses, water killed their livestock, water drowned everyone below. 

There was a boat, one singular one built in a haste by the carpenters. It was supposed to carry them all to safety, but she refused to leave. On what appeared to be crumbling remains of a house, a child and an infant were crying for their mother, who wasn’t there with them anymore. Minho’s wife rushed for the children, and Minho fought with the current to help them cross over towards the boat. By the time she had reached the children and cradled them to her body, Minho was knocked unconscious by a wine barrel flowing down the stream. She screamed for him, screamed for the rest of the villagers, but no one listened to her anguished voice.

The villagers managed to fish Minho’s unconscious body out of the water, and he awoke hours later, screaming and crying after his lost wife. He punched the village chief in the face and almost got thrown out of the boat; next town over they were rescued and given clothes and food, but he remained on the dock, staring into the horizon, waiting. He waited for years, and yet she never came back to him. At old age, he died, alone.

Minho woke up from his memories, the rain engulfing him in a warm hug. As drops turned into a warm summer downfall, he began to understand the deepest secrets of his life.

“Did you die?” He asked, and she shook her head with a smile.

“The Gods saved me. They turned me into the Rain Goddess, to protect the lands from disaster.”

“And I got reincarnated because I left you, right? I should have been there to save you…” Minho held her pale face in his hands, his guilt and torment finally finding themselves a reason. She once more shook her head.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He apologized sincerely, his wet eyes looking directly into hers. Those eyes were just as mesmerizing as he remembered them. Her body was no longer human, no longer warm, there was no heart beating in her chest. And yet, she was breathtaking, his one and only choice in every lifetime.

“Don’t apologize, my love.” She said playfully, letting a drop fall from her fingertip to his nose. He scrunched up his nose at the gesture, and for the first time in a lifetime, Minho smiled. 

“Shall we?” He asked, wrapping his arm against her fluid, watery waist and guiding her hand in a dancing position. She beamed at him, and they began to spin, in a dance that spun ripples around their feet, a dance that made raindrops bounce off their bodies. A giggle tumbling off her lips was enough to heal Minho through all of his ailments, to bring him all the answers he was looking for. 

Nothing was confusing anymore. All the answers had set into his mind, and he knew there was only one possible path for him to take.

He reached forward to kiss her lips, and was met with the most crystal clear taste of water he’s ever felt; the most pure and refreshing heart he’s ever held in his hands, the most nourishing love in the world. She was the water keeping him alive.

“I should go now, it has rained enough.” Although it was clearly visible she didn’t want to separate from her long lost lover, she had duties he could never understand as a human. The relationship between man and his deity has always been a little complicated.

“Don’t go.” 

“I have to.” She said with an awkward smile.

“Take me with you.” At such a response, she laughed and shook her head. 

“I’ll see you next time it rains, my dear.” 

Just a few seconds of thinking it over made Minho understand that could never be enough for him. Minutes of rain could never soothe his drought. He needed more than a kiss, more than a dance, he needed to breathe, he needed to love.

“No.” He replied bluntly. “I’m not afraid of the beyond anymore. I’ve been there before. There is nothing for me here. There isn’t, there won’t, just like there wasn’t ever anything important to me besides you-”

“My darling heart, please-”

“I’m not afraid to drown. Please, take me with you. Take me home.”

“I love you, my darling heart. We’ll meet again soon.” With that, she disappeared and nothing remained but raindrops. Soon, those too went away and the sky cleared up, not even leaving behind a trail of mist. There was nothing for him to grasp onto anymore, no hand to hold,

Minho fell to his knees and began to sob. His soul has been waiting, yearning, longing for her for decades, if not hundreds of years. There was no point to existence if their hearts don’t interweave again.

The rumbling of another car in the distance brought to his attention that his neighbor had found him. He wiped off his tears and pretended to be fine, dazed out of his mind, his heart a glass shattering over and over again. 

He didn’t go back to the farmhouse. Instead, he drove forward on the highway as if there was nothing behind him to ever find again. He didn’t have a reason for heading home, but he did so anyway. The sky was clear and so his mind was clouded. 

By the time he arrived in his hometown, it was night; the streetlights were the only things standing tall on the street besides Minho. Before he could even realize, a raindrop fell onto his shoulder, feeling almost as if he was tapped. He turned around in a haste and was greeted by his Goddess, smiling at him through the raindrops. The sky was clouded, so his mind was clear.

“I’ll never truly be away from you again, my darling heart.” She giggled, stealing a quick kiss from his smiling lips. “Shall we?” She mocked, grabbing him and spinning him into a dance in the middle of the street. “I’ve found a way for us to be together.”

The Gods had agreed to gift her a lake of her own, in which she could live and materialize herself whenever her powers weren't needed. This was fantastic news for Minho, who wasted no time in buying himself the cabin attached to that lake. In the intimacy of the forest, of the lake, of the mosquitos and the woodpeckers, Minho would sit by the water and stargaze with his lover every night. 

They would fantasize about future lives together, about being stars in the same constellation, about the kind of house they’d love to own together. Their kisses were watery, their dreams were impossible, but their bond was unbreakable. If one looked at them from a distance, where their silhouettes would blend in with the horizon, one wouldn’t be able to tell one was temporal and one was atemporal. 

It was almost a normal love story, but the relationship between man and his deity has always been a little complicated.

©amelee23 do not copy, translate or repost

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[maenefa]

This kind of Denethor discourse is so frustrating to me that I am literally pacing back and forth like a panther in a zoo enclosure. Ugggggggghhhhh

A lot of people will tell you that the moral of The Lord of the Rings is “never lose hope,” and that Denethor is bad because he loses hope.

Please read THIS and THIS and especially THIS, which is one of the most beautiful and heartbreaking meditations on LotR you’ll ever read. Tolkien’s ideas about hope are so much more radical than “hope good despair bad.”

Denethor—Tolkien’s Denethor, not Peter Jackson’s Denethor—is unsettling because he tries to hope, but his hope isn’t strong enough to save him. Here are his thoughts on hope, just a few days before his death:

The time will not be long. In what is left, let all who fight the Enemy in their fashion be at one, and keep hope while they may, and after hope still the hardihood to die free.

Denethor has a more “realist” worldview than Gandalf or Faramir, but he’s not a nihilist. He’s still hanging onto hope even though he’s grieving Boromir and he’s positive that Frodo is going to be captured by Sauron. He only breaks when Faramir is mortally wounded and he sees the black ships in the palantir. And I don’t mean he gives up, I mean his mind snaps:

And as [Pippin] watched, it seemed to him that Denethor grew old before his eyes, as if something had snapped in his proud will, and his stern mind was overthrown.

Tolkien repeatedly uses language like “madness,” “madman,” “he is not himself” and “his mind was overthrown.” It’s not subtle!

Denethor is having a psychotic episode. His culpability is reduced, either partially or totally; we can’t know for certain. But I don’t think that everything he says and does in his last moments is “the real Denethor.”

We can do our best and try to have hope, but sometimes life crushes us. How are we supposed to live with the knowledge that this can happen?

Tolkien was haunted by the idea of heroes who fail, heroes who are crushed by their burdens:

Frodo indeed 'failed' as a hero, as conceived by simple minds: he did not endure to the end; he gave in, ratted. (Letter 246)

….I think it can be observed in history and experience that some individuals seem to be placed in 'sacrificial' positions: situations or tasks that for perfection of solution demand powers beyond their utmost limits, even beyond all possible limits for an incarnate creature in a physical world – in which a body may be destroyed, or so maimed that it affects the mind and will. Judgement upon any such case should then depend on the motives and disposition with which he started out, and should weigh his actions against the utmost possibility of his powers, all along the road to whatever proved the breaking-point. (Letter 246)

Tolkien himself tended to judge Denethor harshly, but the character fits very well into the same template as Frodo: a “sacrificial” person who is pushed beyond his limits. The palantir aged him and weakened his mental health, but what truly pushed him over the edge was the wounding of Faramir: Tolkien says that Denethor “maintained the integrity of his personality until the final blow of the (apparently) mortal wound of his only surviving son.”

It’s easy to judge Denethor for using the palantir (although Tolkien said that he had the right to use it and Gandalf admitted that the palantir’s knowledge had often proved useful!) but what should Denethor have done differently regarding sending Faramir into battle? We know that the defense of Osgiliath was necessary because Tolkien had the Rohirrim arrive at the exact moment the Witch King is about to ride through the gate of Minas Tirith. If Faramir hadn’t delayed Mordor’s army, the Rohirrim would have showed up to a conquered city.

Denethor believed that it was necessary to send Faramir to Osgiliath… and he was right! But the pain of being responsible for Faramir’s death was too great for him to bear. You can say that his craving for information killed him, but it’s just as accurate to say that his love for Faramir killed him.

Gandalf tells Denethor’s servants that they were “caught in a net of warring duties,” and this is also true of Denethor. His duty as a father conflicts with his duty as the leader of Gondor, and the strain destroys him.

It may be true that Denethor’s need for control is a character flaw, but I wonder about his final use of the palantir. His son appears to be dying: why does he leave his side to go look in the palantir? I actually think this was a hopeful act: Denethor was hoping to see the Rohirrim, or some kind of good news about the war, some indication that Faramir’s death would not be in vain. But the palantir shows him that he sent his son to die for nothing.

It’s the tragedy of Denethor lamenting “I sent my son forth, unthanked, unblessed, out into needless peril” and dying before he can learn that the battle wasn’t needless… you can’t reduce this tragedy to a morality play!

Okay, I can’t deny that the palantir is a very topical analogy for the internet/smartphones/the tyranny of “data” in general.

But Denethor is so much more than a blackpilled internet doomer, and I will defend him forever.

[wbbenthusiast]

One more video of Paige bowling

And not to start any height discourse but some of the team has to be lying about their height 😅. My sister is 5’10” mayyyyybe 5’11” and everyone was wearing the same bowling shoes so there’s no difference from footwear.

Once again please don’t repost anywhere else!

[frodosrings]

calling all my lotr/hobbit fans and writers!

i would love to start a little thing inspired by my randomized ship wheel i did a bit ago….

so i present to you all:

The Tolkien Randomized Pair Writing Event!

are you a writer looking for some inspo? are you someone who has always wanted to write a fanfic but has never had the chance to? do you want to be involved in a fun tolkien fan project? then this is for you!

rules are as follows:

- you spin the “random pair” wheel (below) and you have to write something for the pair you land on. this can be a full-fledged fic, a oneshot, a list of headcanons, a one-liner, anything! if you want to write an 100k+ word fic, yes! do it! if you only want to share one headcanon, yes! do it!

- when you write something from the pair wheel, use the hashtag “#tolkienrandompairs” so we can all have them in the same place and peruse everyone’s writing!

- it does not have to be romantic, but, it absolutely can be too if that’s what you’re feeling! it can showcase hatred, an argument, a friendship, a goofy interaction, a modern au, a deep conversation, it can be about any popular trope we love, it can be absolutely anything you want, it just HAS to be about the pair you land on!

- you can absolutely spin the wheel more than once and write about as many duos as you please!! whether you spin it once or 100 times, just have fun!

- if you write something nsfw, PLEASE mark it as mature or make it very clear that it’s nsfw, as i want everyone to be able to participate and not have to see nsfw if they don’t want to/are minors

- additionally, ofc, if there are any trigger warnings in your writing, please make them clear!

- there is no time limit for this, even if you come across this post a year later and want to be involved, definitely be involved!

- yes, you can write multiple entries for the same pair if you are really having fun with them!

- you can absolutely substitute writing for some cool fanart :)

-there is no time limit for this event!! if it takes you a few weeks or months to prepare a fic, do not fret! i'd like to think we can keep this going for a long time!

- if you have any questions or need clarification, you can dm me or send an ask to my inbox :)

here is the wheel!

have fun! let the writing commence!

some additional notes below:

- you are more than welcome to carry this idea over to other fandoms! idea credits are always appreciated but not necessary!

-there are 378 different pairs on the wheel, so your pair will most likely only be landed on once! take advantage of it!

- i have only included tolkien pairs from the hobbit and the lotr movies, as i feel it is the most inclusive for the widest audience. so, silmarillion characters and characters which were in the lotr and hobbit books but NOT the movies are not included in this

- again, any silm fans are welcome to make a wheel of randomized silm characters!

- NO ship discourse or hate! if someone writes romantically about a pair you don’t ship yourself, allow us all to have fun! this is supposed to bring us together and at the very least is supposed to be a fun writing exercise!

- if you want to post your writing on other platforms like ao3, definitely do it! if your writing is posted on ao3, i would love if you still used the hashtag so that i am able to read what you write!

- be supportive of other peoples writing! leave nice comments, share your thoughts about the pair other people had, interact! let’s have fun!

- some of these pairs don’t exist in the same timeline, pretend they do! or, maybe you want to write about one thinking about/learning about the other, either way, disregard the fact that some might not genuinely ever interact lol!

- feel free to come back and use this wheel as many times as you want, for whatever you want :)

- yes, making this wheel DID take forever! but all worth it!

[beneathashadytree]

HEY GUYS! LONG POST HERE, BUT PLEASE READ🙏🏽

I am genuinely appalled by the discourse ongoing in the LNDS fandom these past few days—but above all, I am severely disappointed in what had started out as one of the most inclusive and sweet fandoms I’ve ever been in. I have a few things to say, so in this post I’m trying to put all my thoughts to words. Apologies if I sound harsh, but I’m genuinely livid. Also, please ignore any typos. I’m not wearing my glasses while word-vomiting.

First off, for a fandom that is composed of mostly adults, you guys have been acting terribly childishly. It’s 2024, and yet people are still unironically shaming others for “switching up on their favs” as if a person owes 2D characters any loyalty. Let people enjoy things. The novelty of Sylus and how he’s quite literally 6 months behind the other 3 love interests makes people want to catch up on the enjoyment of him all at once. He’s still such a brand new character and concept, so there’s no wonder everyone’s hyped up over him.

I’ve seen people get genuinely mad at other players and writing whole think-pieces about this. I promise you guys, the company making this game is still benefiting whether you’re pouring your money into Sylus or any one of the previous 3. We’re all happy to have an interesting character pop up among the roster now, and we’re taking our time getting to know him. Doesn’t make any of the first 3 any less loved. I genuinely don’t remember this amount of nastiness when solo events for each of the guys used to drop.

In fact, if the popularity thing is worrying you, going off MLQC (the company’s past game) the character who was last added was—eventually, after the initial hype died down—kicked off to the sidelines in most major events and was given the least content, and was the least favorite of fans.

Secondly, and this has my blood boiling, there is an insane amount of entitlement and rudeness I’ve seen on my timeline concerning how people characterize the men—particularly Rafayel.

Absolutely nothing warrants this shitty attitude towards other creators for how they depict characters in their fics. It seems you guys feel protected behind a screen and think it gives you the right to bully strangers online. Fanfiction is for fantasizing about your favs; for letting your imagination run wild. If this were a character analysis, then yes, maybe I’d agree that inaccuracies are aggravating. However, in fanfiction, there are zero rules, especially when it comes to smut.

Sexual preferences are not equivalent to a person’s whole personality—so whether he’s written as a dom, a sub, a switch, or whatever the fuck you wanna call it, this has nothing to do with his kindness, gentlemanliness, passion, power, ruthlessness, snark, or whatever minuscule aspect of his character makes up his lovely whole and matters to you.

I think this circles back to a lack of ability to separate sexual matters and personality, because how else do people interpret fics depicting him in a certain manner as them erasing his character? They might overlap, but they can very well be mutually exclusive. I’ve seen incredibly sweet and gentle men irl who were absolute doms in bed, and I’ve seen powerful and passionate men who were reduced to tears between the sheets. There is barely any correlation whatsoever, and if anything, claiming otherwise is what I consider piss-poor media literacy and reading-comprehension.

My third point is that for some reason, there have been many, many posts and replies on here where I’ve seen people just straight-up spread pure hate for the characters. Maybe this bothered me in particular because I’m an OT3 (OT4 now!) and absolutely adore all of them, but I find no logical reason for “yucking someone’s yum” when we’re talking about liking the characters of an Otome game—a genre of video games which is made to literally cater to the tastes of as many people as possible.

It’s especially disheartening to see when it’s at a time like this, when new content is about to drop, and you find in the replies of every other post/discussion at least a few people spewing hate and disgust at Sylus. Again, so many people are incredibly excited about him. Why is there a need to rain on everyone’s parade, especially in such an unsolicited manner?

This fandom originally started as a safe space for people of all races, backgrounds, genders, sexualities, and personalities to bond over our mutual love for characters. All I’ve seen on my TL lately (in terms of discussion) is negativity, and it’s such a fucking let-down. I hope whatever the fuck has happened to this fandom cools down after a bit. It’s probably exaggerated and very in-your-face rn, cause more and more people are downloading LNDS, so the probabilities of finding people being nasty are increasing. But I seriously don’t want to grow to resent this fandom and find myself distancing myself from it to protect my peace.

Let’s all remember to be kind towards other players, to not act entitled or bratty about the characters, and to try and mind our own business if we see content that doesn’t suit our tastes.

[a-dragons-journal]

(Foreword: I’m not vaguing anyone in specific, I’ve seen this a number of times recently.)

I am gonna need you guys to start clarifying what you mean when you say “believe we’re/they’re actually animals”, because if you’re using it to mean “believe we’re/they’re physically animals” I need to point out that that is not what you’re saying, you’re saying “genuinely identify as animals”. Actually is a synonym for genuinely, not physically. If you don’t believe/feel yourself to actually be your kintype, you’re by definition not otherkin at all. Using “actually” to mean “physically” is at best unclear and at worst implying that people who don’t identify as physically nonhuman “know” we’re not ~really~ nonhuman at all, which I know is not what any of y’all mean but is definitely how it reads, especially to anyone not already intimately familiar with the discourse. Please use the words you actually mean, I’m begging you guys here

[velvetvexations]

I’m. So baffled by that one dude saying that trans men being able to pretend to be women is a privilege, because in his tags he says that it’s a thing specific to transmascs. Does he mean pretending to be cis as a means of safety is a transmasc specific thing?? Because uh, I’m… pretty sure that’s something that can be done regardless of a trans person’s gender? There are transfems and nonbinary people who can also pretend to be cis [whatever their agab was], too?

Its also not a privilege. Having to hide what you are out of fear isn’t a fucking privilege lmao

strangely people understand that when it's about trans women

just saw a post on my dash saying "'infighting' is a dogwhistle which frames transfems as aggressors". i really hope the tide is turning like you said, bc this shit is getting exhausting and im still seeing it from random people i follow who otherwise gave no indication that they drank the koolaid.

they make me out to be the aggressor all the time!

Nazi imagery anon here

These are the pics I was referring to.

As you can see it’s posted on the verified border security account and you can see two different nazi symbols on him :(

yeah it looks like standards for what they allow soldiers to adorn themselves with are low and the person taking and posting the pics aren't paying good enough attention because that guy also straight up has a naked anime bitch on his knife sheath

as I said this is an individual thing and they need to start knocking their heads together like the Three Stooges and sending them into trenches first

You know who saying that th**fab is actually a storied term that trans fems have been using to identify transmisogonists is fucking insane like girl that's such obvious lie give us nothing

they aren't even trying

It’s crazy how almost every other day on this site I see a new post with like 50k notes talking about how absolutely NOBODY deserves to be harassed, sent death threats or be put on blast yet once again I’m seeing people trying to justify the harassment of another transmasc teenager. Honestly people should just start openly admitting Tumblr is becoming increasingly hostile towards trans masculine individuals, I don’t see clownery on this level on any other platform-

Tumblr...is really bad.

I think the reason why this whole headcanons discourse bothers me so much is that is really is just fuelled by petty spite. Like all these characters are cisgender in canon. We make headcanons because it’s FUN to expand on characters in ways that reflect our different life experiences in whatever form that may take. Intentionally going after transmascs, especially young transmascs, for doing this with characters like they like and accusing them of all these different things genuinely does just feel like bigotry. Who cares if a head canon may not make the most amount of sense? It’s a cisgender fictional character we’re playing around with! Why does it have to be some grand act of activism to say blorbo number 3 is transmasc? We have much bigger fish to fry here.

exactly it's such dedication to not letting anyone else have anything

So sick of people acting like trans men are the same as cis men under the patriarchy and moreso im really sick of the "you're privileged to not be surrounded by men". Like, for lack of better phrasing, saying that about a group of people that is generally perceived as "failure women" pre transition (and sometimes during and post) is a little tone deaf. All about acknowledging how women and people perceived as women are harmed by misogyny until the ones perceived are men. Gender essentialism is ugly and tasteless and nonsensical. Please feel free to delete this im just rambling without a point

rambling is okay anon <3

„wow ur so privileged to not fear men”

i fear the fucking everyone asshole, i just realized that isnt everyone elses fault so i should still treat them with respect !!!!!

that woman called me a "self-hating doll" and I hate the second part a lot more than the first

[yourfaveisdisabled]

your faves are disabled!

the owner of this blog is disabled, both physically and mentally!!

i made this because i headcanon kris deltarune as a cane user with disabling chronic pain and want the world to know.

to submit, just put the character, what media they’re from, and (optional) the disability you headcanon them with. if you don’t have a specific disability in mind, that’s just as fine, it’s optional and specifics aren’t needed :3

your submission may include a fundraiser (most likely related to the disability represented in your requested character). if you have a specific charity/organization/fundraiser. you can dm/include it in your ask/ask separately! resources to learn more about disabilities are also appreciated :3

please be nice, don’t spam request (over 3 reqs per person), and remember that people with disabilities are people, and deserve your respect and kindness just as much as any able-bodied person!

i can also do duos/ships, canon or not. ex. “ink and error are autistic!” (please do clarify if you want it romantic, platonic, queerplatonic, familial, etc.!)

discourse of any kind = block. don’t start things under my posts!!!

main: @wickjump yeah hi guys it’s me it’s wick wowie