#romance speakers solidarity

[beevean]

Hi beevean! I'm not sure if you know this channel, but Master Alucard (who makes Castlevania videos in Portuguese), did a video criticising Nocturne and the Netflix adaptations in general. Him and his comment section are ripping the series apart and I love to see it. There's one quote that really stuck with me "Nocturne is not an adaptation. It's a completely different universe, unless you think that the essence of Castlevania is just a guy killing a vampire with a whip. And if that's the case, I'm sad for you man."

Yooooooo the dude who made that 4:30 hour lore video?????

(I never finished that video, sadly, but the love he put into it, all the fanart, the little extra, the composition - he's good! And I'm so mad I can only understand 30% of his other videos because he didn't put subtitles of any kind 😭)

"Made for Fans (of Netflix)" my man is already going for the jugular, I love it

I'll try to watch it, but honestly, I think he should consider adding at least Portuguese subtitles for extra accessibility. That comment you shared already nails it. I also agree with these two:

"It's incredible that Netflix fans have no idea about Castlevania and if you say that the series is rubbish they come with seven stones in their hands to try to defend something that they don't even know what they're talking about."

""Castlevania: Nocturne" is proof that you cannot blame a person for a poorly done job, obviously Warren Ellis was mostly to blame, however we must remember that for a game, series, film or anime to be your way, it is a result of all the people involved, taking just one bad piece out of the equation doesn't change the final direction when creative directors, storyboard artists and reviewers are the same, it can make a big difference if you're lucky, but some characteristics won't change unless the entire team is changed"

[gee-arid]

Hey, about your Veilleuse and Ailes Rouge au, how would the episode Silencer go? Also it would be purrfect right? (pun intended)

The main progress point of this episode would be Luka recognising Ailes Rouges 'heart song' (he can keep his magical powers :3 theres a whole subsection of magic thats hinted at in mlb that never really gets touched on, but its still kinda cool).

This would probably lead to Luka getting closer to Nath in an attempt to help him. This could then lead to either romance conflict (although i think any attraction towards Luka would be one-sided), or mutual appreciation of taste.

Context:

I headcanon Luka has known Nathaniel for atleast a few years, not very well mind you, but in the way one knows vaguely of their little sisters strange classmates.

Nath was pretty... introverted before being pushed by Tikki and later Marc, so while Juleka and Nathaniel would work together on school projects (when Rose and Alix werent available) out of quiet kid solidarity, they probably didnt know too much about eachother. Still- Luka has been around him enough to pick up his song, especially once Nath starts being more friendly and actually making friends with Jules.

Marc however hasnt been hanging around the boat house that long, if ever, so Luka doesnt recognise him.

Anyway, silly episode bits:

Nathaniel is brought in by KS to help design the costumes. Hes a costume guy while Marinettes a fashion gal. He and Marinette work together to fix up the costumes.

(Silencer off camera having stolen Ailes voice)

Ailes does loose his voice to Silencer. But this doesnt affect them all that much, excluding being immediately thrown off. Upon meeting up our boys figure, as long as they can break his helmet and catch a voice to use, it doesnt matter if they have a charm or not. Besides, Ailes has gotten better at catching little flying things.

Neither Ailes or Vei like Bob Ross at all, and do make him spill on live TV in the end. Probably less subtly than Ladybug and Chat Noir did. Our heroes are artists and dont stand for art thieves.

Bonus Kitty Section! and Silencer!Luka designs:

Im... not completely happy with them. But i wanted Silencer to resemble the Kitty Section costume. And his 'cape' flickers when he 'talks' (through the speakers on his hands and chest) like audio recordings.

[ginnymoonbeam]

This week Be My Favorite reinforces a message it already started: queer community is essential to queer self-acceptance. I was reading @stuffnonsenseandotherthings post on how the story is gradually queering a het time-travel romance, and thinking about how Kawi's final turn comes at a gay rights rally. Pisaeng needed Max's support to make his decision after years of struggling and suppressing what he knew about himself. Nobody comes to know themselves in isolation, or even just because of the one person they've fallen for: they see other people living and fighting, they see that there is community.

Queer solidarity and community is a powerful, essential thing. We have to love each other hard and we have to have each other's backs because we know it's a fight, and many of us can't count on the support systems we were born into. And it's scary. It's so important that Kawi had his moment of reckoning with the fear as he listened to the speaker at the rally. You saw him take in the speaker's words, understand that he has been afraid, and decide to move forward anyway. It was a decision to ask Pisaeng to be with him, but it was also a decision to name himself as one of the people belonging at that rally, with all the danger and loss, and all the love and support, that comes with it.

[beautiful-basque-country]

It seems from the interactions I see on social media there is some sort of animosity between Basques from Euskadi and Nafarroa, like distancing themselves from the ikurrina (which I get, they have their own flag, but I'm talking straight up hate). Which is undoudtedly a product of imperialism meant to further drive away any sense of solidarity for all of EH. On the other hand, I see many Basques from Nafarroa who exclusively use Basque (some from Lapurdi too) so maybe things are looking better..

Kaixo anon!

It'd be better to have some context for the situation you describe and that is sadly true. Let's keep in mind that Nafarroa it's divided in 3 different regions regarding Basque language.

Now let’s recap. Although it’s true that the southern side of Nafarroa was the part that suffered the Roman influence the most - it was an ideal location for Roman agriculture - and was very quickly romanized, Euskara didn’t disappear into thin air.

Back in the Middle Ages, Castilian king Alfonso X the Wise used Latin expression “lingua navarrorum” (the language of the Navarrese), and king Charles III of Navarre swore his coronation “in ydiomate navarre” (the language of Navarre). This language was clearly regarded as a different and opposed one to Castilian Romance or Latin, and scholars suspect it would have been probably Euskara.

These mentions happened after Muslim invasion, so we see that after centuries using Latin, Arab, and Romance in Southern Nafarroa, there still remained native languages which were used by many people; people enough for the kings to use it so they could be understood by their subjects, at least.

A bit further in time, in 1566, queen Jeanne III of Navarre requested to translate the New Testament to Euskara so her Basque-speaking subjects could understand it (Bibles and masses were solely in Latin, a language only known by priests and nobility by then). Why even bothering if in the Kingdom of Navarre Basque-speakers were a minority? We highly doubt that a queen was interested in bringing the Bible to a tiny part of the Navarrese population specifically…

However from the 16th century on, everything goes downhill: Castile assimilates the Kingdom of Navarre, all the high public servants would come from Castile or Aragon, and were unable and unwilling to speak Euskara. In 1795 the social elite (mayor, priests, etc) of Artaxona [also in the South, remember] went to court to demand that the town public notary learnt the Basque language since it was “the language most commonly used in town”. They lost the trial.

In the 19th century, the French invasion and the Carlist Wars hastened the regression of Euskara in southern Navarre, that turned almost 100% Spanish-speaking. Franco’s dictatorship just consolidated that situation.

So historically, Basque was spoken by most Navarreses - no matter from the north or the south -, it was just in the last 200 hundred years when it was lost in the southern part of the region.

Nafarroa becoming divided into zones [Basque-speaking, transition, and non-Basque-speaking] is said to be based on history but we all can see it’s bullshit.

That said, it's a bit easier to understand why some Navarreses have this animosity towards Basques - it's not only towards Basques, it's also towards Basque-speaking Navarreses. They like to be considered Navarrese and not Basques - which is super respectable - because the kingdom of Navarre was the one that included Basque people and not the other way around - which is also very true! But don't be fooled. They will swiftly drop historical accuracy to defend that Basque was never spoken in middle and southern Nafarroa and that Basque is being imposed as part of a Basque political agenda; that Basque people are trying to colonize them and make them lose their identity; and that they should resist at all costs by rejecting Basque as an imposed language. French and English - taught in every school - are not imposed and free to go on seemingly.

See how just 2 centuries of assimilation and banning of Basque have twisted their perception? Basque people are imposing our language on them... our language that for centuries was called... the language of the Navarrese??? It's insane.

So this is what dividing a region into here you can speak a language, here you can speak it but you'll be part of a tiny minority, and here you'll find every obstacle imaginable to speak / learn it does to people. Language zonification in Nafarroa is evil and a tool for assimilation that - as you have checked yourself - has worked wonders.

[astrophelsbargain]

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✧New and improved master-post + updated demo✧

Demo link all the way down below! Into the rabbit hole!

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Hello everyone, this is a new master post as the last one is quite outdated, I would like to first and foremost thank you, in every way- you, personally. I had often thought about making an Interactive Fiction, but circumstances would often distract me and make me unable to do continuously work on it. Though there has not been a day in which I haven’t thought of the stories I want to present to you. Quite a lot has changed- I had rewritten most of the book “Astrophel Bargain” which I had previously presented to you, the noticeable changes become apparent after the first bit of the book. Though it is still a work in progress, I hope to be able to update you more consistently. If you have any questions, suggestions or constructive criticism I’ll accept it gladly- as I am writing it on my own, with no help like proofreaders and I am by no means a native English speaker. Once again I thank you for sticking with me, or if you are a newcomer- for being interested in my work.

May stars bless your journey

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Times have changed since the rise of and reign of magicians, as long forgotten victims and villains of history, they remain hidden- only spoken about as the world marches to a new era of technology and science. Though as magicians grew impatient- forever chained to the earth as their souls dwell on its lands with either goals achieved, long ago-as they quietly live amongst the mortals, peacefully enjoying the bliss of omnipotence and immortality. there are still those whose wishes remain a friction of hope- and they just might risk everything to make up for which they’ve lost.

Rumors spread around as magicians become unlawful, immoral and most of all- feared, causing most to either hide further into the shadows or resist their fate with the power granted to them. As the same rumors pass your shop everyday, a new piece of information reveals that perhaps you and your shop might have a bigger role to play in the schemes of fate.

Your shop is no ordinary store, it holds secrets of centuries old vessels, ornaments books and more, all which will eventually leave the safety of your shop and repurpose themselves at the new world. Though a costumer may never visit twice, for each vessel has its own unique fate and purpose if must serve in solidarity. Being the guardian keeper of the shop is peaceful by itself as you mostly pass your time by exchanging information with far travelers who had happened upon your shop, yet when an old friend visits, your days of peace come to a quick end with a dangerous bargain from an infamous magician.

As you make your way to bid your end of the bargain, you just might discover the world outside your shop holds many wonders- and secrets centuries old, unveiled.

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✧ play as a female, male or non-binary character.

✧ define your characters traits ranging from intelligence, charm, brawn and many more all which have different sections respectively throughout the game, making each play through vary depending on your choices.

✧ Design your character as you’d like, ranging from height, hair color, scars, eye color and more.

✧ decide the fate of major characters

✧ discover secrets and unveil them- if you wish to.

✧ get cursed

✧ develop platonic or romantic relationships with 7 gender selectable characters ( A major part of the game is romance, so it is recommended you experience that aspect of the game as you play )

*warning, the game includes triggering concepts such as death, trauma, betrayal, manipulation, gore and more… it is recommended you read with caution. ⚠️‼️

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Dain/Diana astrophel

✧ The flightless Crow, Enemies to lovers

A magician lost in time, rid of their most treasureable possesion as they seek the key to retrieving what was once their own. Upon finding you, the threads of fate twist and knot when they recruit you to do their bidding. ✮ character Masterlinks : TBA

Alen Alfhelia

✧ The wilting Apatura Iris, belated love epiphany

An old friend who had lost a prestigious position at the Bureu of magic due to untimely rise in magicians retiliation against the crown and Atia, a newfound yet prominent religion. Upon discovering your situation they set out to accompany you on journey to the north. ✮ character Masterlinks : TBA

Sol/Soliel Ekhart

✧ The Blinded Sun, Tragic lovers

A talented minor magician living in isolation from world. As their quiet everyday life becomes a-mess due to your interference, they might come to realize mortals hold greater power then they originally acknowledged. ✮ character Masterlinks : TBA

Nil/Nian Vicifer

✧ The Other Story, Unlikely lovers

A young mystery, who insists on joining you in your travels. As they journey with you, it is revealed that behind their incompatibility with most, might lie another story to unfold. Perhaps the pages will reveal a newfound plot for you to discover? ✮ character Masterlinks : TBA

Caelum/Caelan Alphonse

✧ The wondering scarecrow, Strange lovers

A young traveler who seems to have strange ties to Astrophel, their search for the same magician leads them to you, upon realizing you have a connection to Astrophel they decide to team up with you in hopes of you being the bridge that connects the two of them. ✮ character Masterlinks : TBA

Eliseo/Elisa Valens

✧ The cursed Heron, Love at first sight

A mysterious mortal who seems to hold more secrets then they let on- a guest of Ekhart, as you live together they come to learn that the both of you might have more in common then they assumed. ✮ character Masterlinks : TBA

Lilias/Lilia Letifer

✧ The artificial guardsman, forced proximity

Your assigned escort while residing in Ekhart’s residence, amused that there is finally something to look forward to- they keep a watchful eye. you soon finds that your mission might be more challenging then you had originally thought. ✮ character Masterlinks : TBA

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✧ Demo Link ( last update- 26 dec)

✧ Patreon link - coming soon!

✧ Feedback Form

[star-consultant]

Bright are the stars

You need a Beatle song that perfectly encapsulates your sign? Of course you do. (Spotify playlist) 

Aries—“I Saw Her Standing There” 

One two three FOUR! An eager and intense song for an eager and intense sign. Aries falls hard and fast, with a tendency to rash vows that everyone doubts they mean—but Aries doesn’t doubt. Paul (who later styled himself as a "ram” at a key point in his creative development) makes good on the Cardinal Fire vibe with his exuberant vocals, and John of the Aries rising contributed the street-smart innuendo that utterly makes the song: And you know what I mean. Fittingly, this song kicked off the group’s first album, which itself has plenty of Aries “HELLO I AM HERE TO MAKE A MARK ON YOUR WORLD! (like me plz ok? this is my heart and i am Doing My Best??)” energy. 

Taurus—“All I’ve Got to Do"

A song that takes its sweet time but burrows deeper than the average ear-worm into your consciousness. It’s a patient song that is unassuming but knows exactly what the hell it’s doing. The intensity builds bit by bit, so that you’re unaware when the power of the bridge comes crashing down. Describes the Taurean romantic ideal: lazy, loyal, cozy, constant, tender, and ever-so-true. Also, “All I’ve Got to Do” is featured on the second album, With the Beatles, which has plenty of other Bullish touches, noticeable even with a casual glance at the tracklist: “Don’t Bother Me,” “Not a Second Time,” and “Money (That’s What I Want).” 

Gemini—“She Loves You”

Paul is a Gemini Sun, and throughout his catalogue it shows. But perhaps he never topped the Twinniness of this energetic, optimistic, breathless, gossipy classic. It was composed “eye-to-eye” with John, a truly dual-authored song, and one the rare Beatles numbers where the two lead vocalists double up on every single line, in true (Nerk) Twin fashion. Also the first but definitely not the last of their many “third-person narratives,” Paul’s novelistic instead of confessional slant being distinctly a Gemini thing. The speaker in this one couldn’t be more enthusiastic about this relationship if it were already repaired, and he couldn’t be more enthusiastic about it if it were his. Love is great! People reconciling is great! You should be glad, dumbass! But the real corker? What makes this so Gemini that it hurts? Yoko has confirmed that in the early 70s, during her separation with John, she actually had Paul play agony aunt. Then, during that meetup in L.A. where they were last photographed together, Paul urged John to “apologize to her” and get back together... which he did. That’s right. "She Loves You” is not merely a Gemini’s song: it’s a Gemini’s life. 

Cancer—“Octopus’s Garden”

Ringo the Crab’s musically-complex fantasy about an underwater sanctuary where children are “happy and safe,” he and his lover can be together, and there’s “no one there to tell us what to do.” George (a triple Water sign himself, probably not-so-incidentally) always insisted that his best mate’s song Had Depths, and he himself supplied a lot of them: check out his lead guitar lines. They function as emotional counterpoint. When Ringo’s vocal line is especially wistful, the guitar is bright; when Ringo ends on a confident note, the guitar is quirky, ironic, even stiff-upper-lip pessimistic. Result: a shifting kaleidoscope of FEELS. The Moon approves. 

Leo—“Good Day Sunshine” 

Paul perfectly expresses his own Leo moon with a sublime, vibrant ode to laughter, love, and pride on a cloudless summer day. The bit in the lyrics about she knows she’s looking fine and I’m so proud to know that she is mine? That’s not marring the high tone of the song: that is part of the tone. Hear us roar! And by “roar” I mean "laugh and canoodle, coz Leo is about living the good life, bitches.” 

Virgo—“Please Please Me” 

What’s fair is forkin’ fair, mate! A exemplary blend of Virgo’s Mutable passive-aggressive sensitivity with its Elemental directness... half-critical, half-begging... plus the very sign-typical humblebragging. About their sexual prowess. Damn, Virgo. People forget how Earthy you really are sometimes. But here we are. In very Virgo fashion, instead of ditching the girl he’s decided to harangue her. On a more meta note, the Beatles were still studio virgins when they first began crafting this song, and it took several passes and incorporation of George Martin’s feedback before it became the bursting pop hit as we know it now. There’s that Virgo work ethic paying off.

Libra—“Strawberry Fields Forever”

The imagery of the title suggests an eternal harvest. But the star sign resemblance goes deeper than that: Always, no, sometimes think it’s me, but, you know, I know when it’s a dream. I think, er, no, I mean, er, yes, but it’s all wrong... that is, I think I disagree. Did you just hear your Libra roommate rambling after a joint, or did you listen to verse three of “Strawberry Fields”? Same difference. The song is absolutely lovely, as anything associated with the child of Venus should be, and innovative, as befits a Cardinal sign. Most of all, even in all of Libra Sun John’s weighing and weed-wandering, he knows one thing: he’s got to take someone else along with him. A companion, stat! 

Scorpio—“While My Guitar Gently Weeps”

George of the Scorpio moon and Scorpio ascendant had to really lean into this side of his nature to even get this damn track properly recorded. He resorted to the social power play of inviting Eric frickin’ Clapton into the tense post-India studio just to get Lennon, McCartney, and Martin to give his song proper Beatle recording magic. Which it deserved. The dark drama of the hard-won arrangement is the perfect Scorpio accompaniment to the moody, reflective lyrics about “all the love there that’s sleeping” in this weary world. There’s tender, horrified pity here for those who are stifled into inauthenticity: I don’t know how nobody told you how to unfold your love. I don’t know how someone controlled you; they bought and sold you... Bonus points for the Watery ‘just can’t even’-ness of not being able to so much as pick up a damn broom. 

Sagittarius—“Something” 

You’re asking me, will my love grow? I don’t know, I don’t know! A deeply instinctual lover knows that Cupid has done hit a bullseye. He remains emphatically ambivalent about the future, but he knows what he feels in this moment, and in that moment is romance and wonder that is as deep as the earth is from the heavens. Sags are intense, but of all the Fire signs they are most far-seeing and detached (due to their Mutable quality, which makes them see the world a bit more like an Air sign does). “Something” keeps trying to capture that je-ne-sais-quoi, and despite the speaker’s happiness he can’t help but circle back again and again to take another shot at that the mental target. A philosopher even when in love. Ultimately, however, he doesn’t want to leave her now... which for a restless Sag is already saying a ton.

Capricorn—“Revolution”

John let his unfashionable midheaven Capricorn off the leash with this blunt, pointed savaging of radical and violent revolutions. (Given the tanks on Tiananmen Square and the millions dead on the killing fields of Cambodia, I can’t say that his cautionary note about “destruction” and “minds that hate” was unnecessary.) Few things are more Capricorn than ‘Oh, you want my money? Yeah, first show me that you’ve done your fucking homework, mate.’ Bonus Earth points for the fact that he somehow worked sex—a lot of sex—into this political track. 

Aquarius—“Come Together”

John of the Aquarius moon’s decidedly loony attempt to write a political campaign song in order to stop Reagan. (The result was too weird for Timothy Leary, whose reaction was pretty much ‘wtf? I don’t think even I have enough residual acid in my system for this one... ’) John invokes the ideal of collaboration, but his call to solidarity is built around fantastical lyrics that no one can comprehend: He wear no shoeshine, he got/Toejam football, he got/Monkey finger, he shoot/Coca-Cola, he say/I know you, you know me... Oh, right. The lyrics contain exactly one discernible message: One thing I can tell you is you got to be free. How Aqua. Also in true collaborative Water-Bearer fashion, the arrangement really makes the song (special mention to the tight, tight work of the rhythm section). Bizarre genius that attracts a true team effort—it doesn’t get much more Aquarius than that.

Pisces— “I Want to Tell You”

The wall of sound builds up thickly enough that soon the words seem to be traveling through the sea to reach you: I want to tell you my head is filled with things to say... But when you’re here, all those words, they seem to slip away. A gorgeously, emotionally tongue-tied song... about being tongue-tied. Written by George, a Pisces Sun, this absolute mystery of a lyric is all emotion and no logic. If he seems to act unkind, it’s only him, it’s not his mind. Okay, Fishboy. Good thing the track is compellingly lovely and utterly relatable. Which suits the Pisces life exactly: ‘I don’t know what I mean, but it’s exceedingly beautiful and I want you to share it with you very, very much.’ 

[pronouncingitwang]

s1 archives crew | 1.7K words | basically tim and martin think sasha and jon are dating and have a Time about it to my specific amusement

[INT. BUBBLE TEA SHOP]

[BACKGROUND: PEOPLE CHATTING, BAD DANCE MUSIC PLAYING OVER THE SPEAKERS]

TIM

(bitter, reminiscent of a cup of black tea that’s been steeping, forgotten, for an hour) I hope they’re having a good time

[PLASTIC HITTING PLASTIC, LIKE SOMEONE IS JABBING AT HIS BUBBLE TEA WITH HIS STRAW AND FAILING TO CATCH ANY PEARLS ON THE POINTY END]

MARTIN

(bitter, reminiscent of a cup of black tea that’s been steeping, forgotten, for two hours) I don’t.

TIM

(heh) Wellll… It’s more that I hope they’re having a good time, until something about the way Sasha talks reminds Jon of his grandmother, and the thought is so awful that he starts wishing it weren’t a date.

[ON THE WORD “DATE,” MARTIN LETS OUT A SOFT GROAN]

MARTIN

(glum) Cheers to that.

[THE TAP OF TWO PLASTIC CUPS AGAINST EACH OTHER]

MARTIN

(wistful) What do you think they’re talking about right now?

TIM

(glum) How smart and perfect they are, probably.

That, or work.

MARTIN

I don’t even know if Jon’s capable of not talking about work.

TIM

He was, back in research. (contemplative) He and Sash always got along swimmingly, but I never thought…

MARTIN

(oddly agitated) I didn’t even know he swung that way. Do you think— (lowering voice to a whisper) is it possible Sasha’s his beard?

TIM

(laughing) What, he needs her help staying closeted from us? You know, come to think of it, we are both such raging homophobes, so—

MARTIN

(laughing, but still tense) Yeah, alright, alright, lay off it.

[SILENCE]

TIM

Are you alright? You look… really wound up. Like, shaking.

MARTIN

(agitated) I’m fine, I just— (words bursting out) Look, I’m sorry, but—what does Jon see in her? Like, Sasha’s my friend, and she’s great, but—

TIM

(trying for lighthearted but landed on “stern”) Going to have to stop you there, Marto.

MARTIN

What? Oh, right, right, I’m sorry—

TIM

How about some ground rules. I don’t talk shit about Jon, and you don’t talk shit about Sasha.

MARTIN

Y-yeah. That sounds good.

[AWKWARD SILENCE]

MARTIN

I hope… that Elias calls Jon down to the Institute for an emergency live statement before they’ve even ordered food?

[CLINK OF ICE, A CUP BEING RAISED]

TIM

That’s the spirit!

-

[INT. ARCHIVES, THE ARCHIVIST’S OFFICE]

ARCHIVIST

I know you said, but your wording was ambiguous earlier, and I’ve gotten this wrong before in the past—this is strictly platonic, yes?

SASHA

(amused) Yes, Jon, I promise I’m not trying to steal your virtue—

[SPLUTTERING NOISES FROM THE ARCHIVIST]

SASHA (CONT’D)

—or your heart.

ARCHIVIST

That’s, ah. That’s good to hear.

SASHA

God, Jon, if I knew you were going to be this flustered over “My corkscrew wound hurts, so you’re taking me out to dinner because I said so,” I wouldn’t have asked.

ARCHIVIST

No, it’s perfectly alright, I’m happy to—

SASHA

If it helps, I’m also aromantic as hell.

ARCHIVIST

Oh! That’s, well. (inhale) (enunciating each word clearly and sincerely) Thank you for telling me, Sasha.

SASHA

(laughing) You can stop making that face, I haven’t been hiding it, or worried about your reaction or anything. I only really figured it out recently. I haven’t even told Tim yet.

ARCHIVIST

(awkward) Ah. Well, either way, I’m glad that you found a label that works for you.

SASHA

So am I.

ARCHIVIST

(abrupt) I’m… I’m asexual. Not that it—but I thought you might like to know.

SASHA

Nice!

[SOUND OF A HI-FIVE BEING EXCHANGED]

SASHA (CONT’D)

And you’re right, I do like to know.

So, you ready for Aspec Solidarity Dinner?

ARCHIVIST

I thought this was Sorry You Got Stabbed Dinner.

SASHA

(with exaggerated gravity) Sometimes, things… can be two things.

ARCHIVIST

(heh) Fair enough.

-

[INT. BUBBLE TEA SHOP, SEVERAL HOURS LATER]

[LESS BACKGROUND CHATTER THAN BEFORE]

MARTIN

(dreamily) I hope they both get food poisoning. Not— (correcting course) not anything too bad, just… unpleasant enough that their neural pathways start connecting the idea of a romance between them with feeling sick.

TIM

(mock-offended) What, you think getting food poisoning with someone means you can’t stomach the sight of them again? And here I was thinking we were friends!

MARTIN

Well, we weren’t on a date, then. The logic works out differently. You don’t make me ill, but the idea of stakeouts does.

TIM

I mean, we could.

MARTIN

Could…?

TIM

Go on a date. A proper one.

MARTIN

What, like, to make Jon and Sasha jealous?

[BEAT]

MARTIN

Shit, Tim. I’m—

TIM

(quiet) I was just thinking a date in general, but—

MARTIN (CONT’D)

—so sorry, that was so inconsiderate—

TIM

(overlapping) No, no, it’s alright. It was… stupid to ask. I know how much you like Jon.

MARTIN

And I thought you were—I thought—Well, you just spent an hour talking about how you were interested in Sasha?

TIM

Doesn’t mean I can’t have other interests.

MARTIN

Right. I mean—

TIM

Let’s just agree to forget about it.

MARTIN

I mean, it’s not that I don’t—

TIM

We’re having fun, right? Let’s keep having fun.

[SILENCE]

MARTIN

(quiet) So you really want to forget about it?

TIM

Martin, what does that even me-

MARTIN

I don’t know! I just—Can we talk about it tomorrow?

TIM

... Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good.

[MORE SILENCE]

TIM

(with forced enthusiasm) Hey. I just had an idea. Do you want to get really, really drunk?

-

SASHA

(laughing) And then— (laughing harder) they just hung up on me! Just like that!

ARCHIVIST

(engrossed) What did you do then?

SASHA

Called them back, of course.

ARCHIVIST

No.

SASHA

It was my favorite sweater, Jon, I wasn’t going to let it rot just because Tim left it behind while trespassing for you!

ARCHIVIST

So now it’s my fault, too?

SASHA

Absolutely. I think you owe me, oh, at least two more dinners for that.

ARCHIVIST

(audible smile) That can be arranged. Though, (hesitating) I don’t know if that’s… wise.

SASHA

(mildly exasperated) Listen, Jon, just because you can technically fire me now doesn’t mean we can’t still spend time together.

ARCHIVIST

Well, yes, but—

SASHA

You’re my friend, Jon. I missed talking to you.

ARCHIVIST

(somewhat touched) I… also consider you a friend, Sasha.

SASHA (CONT’D)

(smug) Besides, I know you’d never fire me, anyway.

ARCHIVIST

From a professional standpoint, I can neither confirm nor deny that.

SASHA

Ha! Knew it.

Movie at mine after we—sorry, after you—pay?

-

[INT. TIM’S FLAT, SEVERAL HOURS LATER]

[SOUNDS FROM THE TV]

MARTIN

(earnest, clearly inebriated) I can’t believe David broke up with you! That was so mean! How could anyone be so mean to you?

TIM

I can’t believe Jon’s so hard on you. I know you didn’t get a degree, but you work so hard, Marty. It’s not fair.

MARTIN

(sighing) ’Least he’s pretty.

TIM

So pretty.

MARTIN

Just wanna hold his hand.

TIM

(daydreaming) Sash has nice hands.

[SILENCE AS THEY FANTASIZE]

MARTIN

(coming back to himself) This isn’t fair. You’re hot! People should be getting weepy over you!

TIM

And you’re hot and you write poetry! We should be the fucking office heartthrobs!

MARTIN

Fucking David.

TIM

Fuck that guy. Or don’t, actually.

[TIM GIGGLES]

MARTIN

What?

TIM

Your face is so red, Marty. (contemplative) Sash’s favorite color is red.

[DRUNKEN SILENCE]

MARTIN

(whispering) Hey. Hey, Tim.

TIM

Yeah?

MARTIN

Y’know what you should do?

TIM

What?

MARTIN

You should text her.

TIM

Nuh. No way.

MARTIN

You should!

TIM

Only if you text Jon.

MARTIN

No, no, Tim.

TIM

Yes! Where’s your phone? Gimme.

MARTIN

(whining) Tim, no, he’s my boss, Tim!

TIM

It doesn’t have to be weird! Either you write something and send it, or I do.

[MARTIN RECOILS IN HORROR]

MARTIN

Fine.

-

[INT. SASHA’S FLAT]

ARCHIVIST

(puzzled) I just got a text… from Martin.

SASHA

(with a mixture of surprise, anticipation, and amusement that can only come from suspecting something that Jon doesn��t) Oh? What does it say?

ARCHIVIST

It says, um, (spelling out the typos) “hpe ur date went well an no food poisonig”?

SASHA

(laughing) Sorry, what?

ARCHIVIST

I really don’t see—W-wait. (fast) When Prentiss had Martin’s phone, she kept talking about a stomach bug—do you think this is her again? Is he in danger?

SASHA

(suppressing laughter) I really don’t think it’s Prentiss.

ARCHIVIST

How can you be sure? We should probably go to the Institute, or at least call Elias, or—

SASHA

Martin’s fine, Jon. I just got a text from Tim about him.

ARCHIVIST

Oh! Well, that’s a relief.

SASHA

(giggling) Listen to this: (enunciating each word) “me n marty r soooo drunk i miss u an i thin ur lauh is pretty also lrgally u have 2 tell me if bossyboss is a good ksser ok byeeeee.” And then, five—no, six exclamation points.

ARCHIVIST

Good… kisser? (horrified) Wait, do Tim and Martin think we’re…

SASHA

(giggling) Apparently so.

ARCHIVIST

Should we—should we correct them?

SASHA

Well, yeah.

[BEAT]

SASHA (CONT’D)

(sly) On Monday, that is.

-

[INT. TIM’S FLAT]

MARTIN

He said, (reading off his phone) “This is highly unprofessional, but yes, Sasha and I are passing a—” Passing? Tim, they’re still…

TIM

(with a deep and heavy sadness completely at odds with the actual words) Damn. Get it, Sasha.

MARTIN

(continuing) “—a perfectly pleasant evening. It was kind of you to ask.” (despondent) Tim. I hate this.

[BEAT]

MARTIN

Tim?

TIM

(flat) I just got a text from Sasha.

MARTIN

(dreading the response) What’s it say?

TIM

See for yourself.

[THEY LOOK AT TIM’S PHONE IN SILENCE]

MARTIN

(quiet) I’ve… I’ve never seen Jon with his hair down before.

[MORE STARING]

TIM

They look fucking adorable.

[MORE STARING]

MARTIN

Jon looks so happy.

TIM

So does Sash.

[A LONG MOMENT OF CONTEMPLATION]

MARTIN

(inhale) (determined) You know what? (exhale) (forcing the words out) I’m… I’m glad they’re having a good time.

[A LONG SILENCE]

[TIM GROANS]

TIM

(glum) Yeah. Me too.

-

bonus:

[INT. SASHA’S FLAT]

SASHA

Aw, look at this.

[FABRIC RUSTLING AS JON SHUFFLES CLOSER]

ARCHIVIST

Is that…? Oh. Well, they certainly look alright. No worms, or… Michael.

SASHA

I’m just glad Martin has a place to crash tonight other than Document Storage.

ARCHIVIST

I mean, I can’t imagine that Tim’s couch will be that much better than the archives cot.

SASHA

(heh) Tim’s couch, right.

[BEAT]

ARCHIVIST

(surprised) You think…?

SASHA

That they’re sleeping together? I mean, I don’t know for certain, but Tim’s talked to me about Martin before, and…. well, let’s just say I “strongly suspect.”

[DEAD SILENCE. THE ARCHIVIST FEELS HE IS CLOSE TO AN EPIPHANY, BUT BATS IT AWAY. ALTHOUGH HE NEVER REACHES IT, THE GRIEF THAT WOULD ACCOMPANY SAID EPIPHANY IS STILL FELT ACUTELY]

ARCHIVIST

(flat) Oh.

[silentauroriamthereal]

Self-repost time, if you’ll indulge me yet again with my “hey, a lot of us are stuck inside and we’ve now exhausted everything on everything streaming service ever, so... want a random suggestion of a fic to read or re-read?” thing? 

In the summer of 2016, I had a financial catastrophe due to the language school I was teaching at being suddenly bought by another, far worse language school run by evil, evil beings. The short version is that they very suddenly cut the hours of all the staff they took on from my language school to almost nothing, and also let us know as an afterthought that they only pay once per month, and not until the end of the month AFTER the month when you’ve done the work. Aka, for all of your (pitiful) hours in July, you don’t don’t paid until close to the end of August. Summer hours were already super sparse, but my colleagues and I were suddenly cut down to around 6 hours per week, which obviously no one can live on. I had just gone through a disastrous apartment flooding at my old place (slumlord landlord) and moved out as soon as my lease was up. The rent was almost the same, but I had to buy appliances (fridge, stove, washer, dryer) because that’s how that sort of thing works in Québec apartments, so I had just spent six months’ worth of feeble savings on super used, very old appliances. I had just moved when I found this out - my new lease started on July 1st that year. I had no choice about any of it and no notice of the very sudden sale of my language school. It was so scary. 

This fandom is what saved me. I stood a high chance of becoming homeless because of this. As a part-time, contract-only language instructor (ESL for adult French speakers), I had no job protection, and never made enough to save anything - it was always touch-and-go to see whether I would be able to pay next month’s rent. This thing? Ruined me. I didn’t know what to do and couldn’t stop crying. I finally made a tiny, cringing little post on here - I hate asking for help, especially financial help, and to this day even remembering this in passing brings tears to my eyes. You guys saved me. Whether it was a one-time PayPal donation or your ongoing support through my Patreon (ugh, but: x), both the physical gesture of literal support as well as the immeasurable gesture of solidarity and human support, I cried for sheer gratitude and amazement. Your donations that month were my lifeblood and I will never stop being grateful. This light-hearted little story was the smallest expression of my gratitude and love, which you will always, always have. Love you guys, hope you’re all doing well and surviving in turn through this scary, weird, uncertain time we’re living in right now. <333333333333333333333

Title: Letting Go

Author: SilentAuror

Pairing/genre: John/Sherlock (POV: John), porny romance

Length: 11,110 words

Summary: Sherlock has a hard time letting go in sex, despite John's best efforts...

Warnings: Absolutely none, unless you hate romance or something :)

[indige-zine]

Spotlight Series: Creative Disruption

Making noise, redefining language, wielding raucous imagery—these things serve an important role in our collective quest to decolonize relationships to our oppressors, our lovers, ourselves. Sometimes, you have to destroy and rebuild from the essentials.

indige•zine caught up with three Indigenous creatives who use their art to disrupt the boxes   that dictate the way Natives love.

Tatiana Benally

Age: 24

What she does: Hailing from the Diné Nation in Shiprock, New Mexico, Tatiana lives in New York City as a working-class student of anti-colonialist practice, resiliency, and movement. When she’s not freelancing as a media artist or barista-ing in Flatbush, she’s helping to organize events like the Indigenous Creatives Festival with Manhattan’s American Indian Community House, making interdisciplinary art and music, curating the meme page Asdzaaproletariat, frequenting a Diné communist reading group, and much more.

How do you define love?

Love is an organic and necessary connection between human beings. Love is also complex, powerful and is certainly not perfect. There are many notions of love, but the most important love is one that is conscious and respectful of the conditions we are living in.

A noteworthy quote by [political theorist and philosopher] Hannah Arendt addresses the power of an anti-colonial love as:

“Love, by reason of its passion, destroys the in-between which relates us to and separates us from others … Love, by its very nature, is unworldly, and it is for this reason rather than its rarity that it is not only apolitical but anti-political, perhaps the most powerful of all anti-political human forces.”

I find this quote so beautiful in recognizing the power of love in building solidarity and its nature to be anti-colonial. The only thing I would argue is that love is absolutely political in our time. Destroying the “in-between” that [Arendt] writes about, things like individualism and social constructs, could be read as bi-products of capitalism and colonialism. Love is anti-colonial strength in our times.  

In which ways do your concepts of love and creativity meet in your life?

For me, this is mostly observed in the healing process of expression. I often turn to creativity as a way to grapple with feelings of ennui or as a tool to explore the roots of my feelings in times of confusion. Other times, I am just plain happy and the art that I make is then a document of a time that I felt full and warm. The healing power of creation is medicine for the maker and hopefully for people who connect with the art. That’s love.

What’s one toxic thing about romance and relationship you’ve had to unlearn?

The idea that it is cute or normal to be owned by someone (i.e. “She’s mine,” “You belong to me,” etc.) Language and behavior with possessive logic are only another vehicle to integrate colonial notions of property and other outward rippling capitalist-centric lifestyles into practice. From the many recognized and unrecognized Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women (MMIW) cases, to everyday practices of consensual intimacy being breached in relationships.

Love should be founded on mutual respect and compromise, and exist without power dynamics. The purpose of love is not to be used to cushion one’s oppression, nor as a tool of coercion into capitalism. We need to do better.

What is your most potent practice of self love as an indigenous woman?

Existing unapologetically. There is so much joy in embracing who I am and what I do without fear. It is wholesome and pure and everyone needs to do so much more of it.

Dio Ganhdih

Age: 31

What they do: Dio is an Akwesane hip-hop artist with brash, bold flows packed with humor and wit. Born and raised on Haudenosaunee Territory in Upstate New York, they’re also an educator and speaker whose work centers their experience as a queer, gender non-conforming Indigenous artist seeking community amongst their intersections. They’ve made music with Anishinaabe electronic artist Ziibiwan, Peguis First Nation producer Exquisite Ghost, mestiza hip-hop artist Chhoti Maa, and many others.  

How do you decolonize your love?

With reflection and accountability of my own toxic behaviors. I take my own internal spiritual temperature and sit with self to process past traumas and explore new paths of healing. The impacts of colonization are thick and dense. Without question, colonization confuses the love that I want and contradicts my intrinsic ability to love. I work to unpack and unfold the whitewashing and heteronormative culture I was surrounded with and inevitably influenced by growing up in a small town and Native community.

As a queer indigenous musician, how do you protect your spirit?

I protect my spirit by trusting my intuition and using my powers for good. I use smoke, sweetgrass, tobacco and prayer. I attend ceremonies and carry with me traditional medicines from my people. I work with teas, herbs and plants which offer external protection and vitality as well.

If you could tell your teenage self one thing about self-love, what would it be?

Teenage me: Believe it or not, you have everything within you to provide yourself with the love, attention, and the validation you are seeking. You will never actually fill that void until you learn how to embrace yourself fully. Dig deeper and push past that binary—you got this! Konarronkwa!

Gwen Benaway

What she does: Gwen Benaway is a trans girl of Anishinaabe and Métis descent. She has published three collections of poetry, Ceremonies for the Dead, Passage, and Holy Wild. Her fourth collection of poetry, Aperture, is forthcoming from Book*hug in Spring 2020. Her writing has been published in many national publications, including CBC Arts, Maclean’s Magazine, and the Globe and Mail. She’s currently editing an anthology of fantasy short stories by trans girl writers and working on a book of creative non-fiction. She lives in Toronto, Ontario and is a Ph.D student at the Women and Gender Studies Institute at the University of Toronto.

How have you used language and poetry to decolonize the institution of love?

I don’t know that language or poetry really can decolonize love. For me, poetry and language are an embodied reflection of a living, not an artifact nor a tool as commonly used by Western mentalities. Language and poetry arises from the love and the living, but can’t liberate us in and of itself. I use poetry and language to explore and narrate my embodiment and intimacies, but decolonization happens through what you do, not what you say. I think people get tripped up on that point, thinking that their language will be their liberation, when it’s their relationally and doing/living that is the revolution.

What is one misconception about desire and relationships you wish you’d known when you were younger?

I wish I had known that it was possible to live inside multiple intimacies and not focus so much on monogamous intimacy as the ultimate relational bond. What I’ve learned is that non-sexual intimacies are very powerful and important, as are polyamorous intimacies. I have several intimacies that I’m present in which are love affairs, but none of them supersede each other. That feels really comforting to me.

I also have several deep intimacies which are non-sexual and fill a lot of spaces for me in terms of kinship and care. I think when I grew up, I just saw abusive monogamous relationships and internalized that as normal. Now, I look at extended networks of kinship, care, and multiple intimacies as my safe normal. I also wish I had embraced my bisexuality sooner but I guess some things take time to grow.

What advice do you have for fellow Indigenous trans people trying to tell their story?

My advice to other trans Indigenous folks is to stand in your language, traditions, and kinships, but also embrace your own sense of selfness.

Transness is complex. It doesn’t have to be one thing. It can look and feel like many different paths or ways of being in the world. I think it’s important to see your ancestors in your transness, but to know that you can innovate around yourself as well.

There is still a lot of transphobia around us, but we are going to find a way through it towards a different future. Never be afraid to be traditional, but never be afraid to not be traditional (or adapt traditions).

Sometimes, I think Indigenous trans people get pressured to take up a certain space in the world. But like all Indigenous peoples, we’re diverse and not all of us need to be activists, writers, healers, leaders, etc. Some of us can just chill and support other folks who want to take on those roles. I want to see more trans NDN voices and bodies in the world doing a bunch of things, from every nation, and in their own ways. That’s my dream for us: a future where we are vibrant, visible, and varied.

[zenonaa]

“Hey, look!” Aoi says, nudging Makoto. “Your face is on that one!” He follows her finger. His face hasn’t been carved off and wrapped around a sign, but his image is on one. On several. Many with hearts around them. Kyouko folds her arms over her chest. “You seem to have some admirers,” says Byakuya, smirking. Yasuhiro grins and points into the crowd. “So do you, Togami-chi.”

Fandom: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Fukawa Touko/Togami Byakuya, Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto Characters: Naegi Makoto, Kirigiri Kyouko, Fukawa Touko, Togami Byakuya, Hagakure Yasuhiro, Asahina Aoi Additional Tags: Post Game Summary: The Survivors do a Q&A with the general public. Comments: Done for a request! ‘Naegiri... a kiss out of envy or jealousy’. I got carried away lol.

***

The only person who thinks this is a good idea is Yasuhiro.

“We don’t even have to do anything other than smile and wave,” says Yasuhiro, with his arm slung across Makoto’s shoulders. Even the smallest movement brushes their legs together.

Despite no longer being students or captives with a limited wardrobe, the six of them are still wearing their old school uniforms. Touko pulls a face, sitting opposite them in the cramped space, and next to her, Byakuya rests his cheek in his hand and stares out of the window at the early morning sky that their plane soars through, seemingly lost in thought.

She took until the end of the first hour of being beside him to calm down. There are only six seats. Between Yasuhiro and Aoi is a slim aisle.

“This is ridiculous. We’re not high school students,” grumbles Touko with her fists clenched into tight balls on her lap.

Yasuhiro keeps his arm around Makoto but turns his head slightly toward Touko. “We have to wear them! The outfit is, like, one of the most recognisable aspects of our character design, ‘right?”

“Stop saying things like that. We’re not video game characters,” says Aoi, frowning across the aisle at them. Touko huffs. “Don’t worry, Fukawa-chan, once Futuristic Foundings marks our tests, we’ll all get brand new uniforms.”

“It’s Future Foundation,” says Touko through her teeth.

Byakuya wrinkles his nose. Out of all of them, his clothing - a suit - is the most professional, so he can’t complain about his attire. He doesn’t.

“It’ll be a miracle if you pass,” Byakuya instead informs Aoi, who pouts. Ignoring her, he pushes up his glasses, and though he turns away from the window, he doesn’t concentrate on anyone. Solemnity clouds his eyes and overcasts his features. “We mustn’t lower our guard, even for a moment. While there are people who will surely rejoice when they see us, there are those who could use this as an opportunity to attack the world’s symbol of hope.”

Silence hangs over them, bar a constant gentle hum. Makoto studies his hands, then lifts his gaze. Byakuya’s eyes have cleared and are fixed on him. Looking around, Makoto realises that everyone else has trained their eyes on him too, including Kyouko, seated between Aoi and a window, one leg crossed over the other. Until now, whenever his eyes had strayed to Kyouko, she had been focused on the world outside of the plane.

He scratches the nape of his neck and hunches his shoulders. “It’s not just me who’s the world’s hope. We all are. I mean, you all had to find hope within you when we faced off against Enoshima. I just helped bring it out of you guys...”

Most of them quirk their brows, mouths either pursed or slanted at one end.

“Naegi-kun’s right,” says Kyouko with a smile. Makoto gives her one back, and the flight continues.

The plane lands in a private airfield. They stretch out their arms and legs without having to worry about whacking someone in the face or kicking them in the shins, but the air outside is barely cooler than that in the aircraft. Yasuhiro’s back pops. However, the respite doesn’t last long, and guards that all look the same soon escort them to a small coach bus, which drives them to a domed building, and then the guards accompany them through several drab hallways.

In a large, open room, everyone passes through metal gates the shape and size of a normal door, and after they’re intensively screened and patted down, they’re given hooded cloaks and they finally embark another coach bus and head to the city square. Makoto doesn’t know what to expect as he stares out at the dreary industrial city. Accelerated decay and destruction have eaten chunks out of buildings, and the only cars they spot along the way are abandoned on cracked sidewalks or partially buried in debris and sludge-coloured moss. When he breathes in deeply enough, he inhales a musty odour.

Despite the lack of traffic, their coach bus crawls along for ten minutes until it parks down an alley. As soon as they step out, guards surround them from all sides and guide them forward. Outside stinks of soot, sweat and oil. Elbows and shoulders bump. They can hear humans chatter and shout beyond their bubble, but they can’t see anyone past the guards. All they can see is a red sky and the backs of guards dressed in business suits, wearing either sunglasses with ear guards or helmets with tinted visors, as well as concrete slabs underfoot.

Rough hands push Makoto and the others up a short flight of steps, and then they find themselves on a raised platform. A stage. The guards part like the Sun shining through the clouds like it hasn’t done in years, and the six survivors are confronted by an ocean of people, who erupt into applause and screams at the sight of them.

Aoi peels off her hood and the others follow suit, causing the screams to increase in volume.

“That’s a lot of people,” Aoi murmurs.

“With a lot of signs,” adds Yasuhiro as he mops his brow with a torn handkerchief.

Makoto surveys the crowd. Indeed there are. Signs are scattered across the crowd with different designs and messages.

“Hey, look!” Aoi says, nudging Makoto. “Your face is on that one!”

He follows her finger. His face hasn’t been carved off and wrapped around a sign, but his image is on one. On several.

Many with hearts around them.

Kyouko folds her arms over her chest.

“You seem to have some admirers,” says Byakuya, smirking.

Yasuhiro grins and points into the crowd. “So do you, Togami-chi.”

In fact, they all seem to. Byakuya, Makoto and Kyouko occupy the most signs, followed by Aoi, then Touko, and then Yasuhiro, even if one were to exclude the images of Touko with angry font and a black cross over her face. Those signs are at the heaviest density in one spot in the crowd, and though they only make up a small percentage, they catch the eye quickly. Touko shrinks back a bit. Yasuhiro squints.

“Those guys really don’t like Fukawa-chi,” he remarks with a small, ingenuine smile already sagging, trying to keep the mood light. It fools no one.

“I think it’s more that they don’t like her alter,” says Kyouko, looking over as well.

Guards stand in a line in front of the stage and behind Makoto and the others too. Regardless, Aoi narrows her eyes at the signs and slightly positions herself in front of Touko.

“It seems she has some fans anyway,” Byakuya tells them, peering at another group of people holding up signs with Touko’s face on them, lacking crosses and bearing words of solidarity.

His eyes travel across the excited, writhing crowd, and stop on a particular sign. It has a photograph of him and Makoto on it.

“What is a naegamSOITDOESN’TAPPEARINTHESEARCHi?” asks Byakuya, reading the text on it.

Yasuhiro cups Byakuya’s ear and whispers something to him. Byakuya stiffens, glances at Makoto and then shuffles away a bit. Makoto pretends not to notice, though he doesn’t really mind, understanding.

Romance, even the allusion to it, isn’t something that Makoto has ever seen Byakuya appreciate receiving, or appreciate in general. Indeed, Makoto has only witnessed him react negatively to it and the idea of it from anyone else, treating it like a weakness, something to be exploited, looked down upon, and especially being in a place like this, with an audience, Byakuya probably wants to distance himself from that sort of thing as much as he can. A thing that goes against how he was raised, in a cold, business environment, and so disgusts him.

Also, Byakuya has often talked about how he dislikes ‘commoners’. So that too.

“He’s not my type,” says Byakuya nonchalantly, and Yasuhiro gives him a curious look.

“You have a type?” he asks, but he doesn’t receive an answer.

“Silence, please,” a female voice booms from speakers attached to quad truss pillars on both ends of the stage. The audience continues babbling, but whoever is talking doesn’t wait for silence and speaks over them. “We won’t be accepting questions until there is silence. Then, you may click your remote, and we will give you the chance to ask any of the survivors a question of your choice.”

Makoto, Kyouko, Byakuya, Touko and Aoi all slowly turn toward Yasuhiro, who yelps and throws up his hands in surrender.

“I didn’t know there’d be questions!” says Yasuhiro as guards approach them with headsets.

“Now what?” asks Touko, holding her fist close to her mouth, on the verge of popping her thumb between her lips either to chew or scrape her teeth on it.

“... Maybe we should answer their questions,” says Kyouko. She puts her headset on. “It would let people get to know us better, and we can clear up any misconceptions people have. If we want their support, we should be open with them.”

They cast their eyes toward the crowd, and Makoto lingers on the signs with Touko’s face smeared with black paint. Byakuya clicks his tongue. With a nod, Makoto places his headset over his ears, and then the others, including Byakuya, slip theirs on as well.

Eventually, the crowd quietens, and then an alrighty growl thrums overhead. Makoto tenses. They tilt their heads back with a jerk. The noise comes from a drone that flies out from behind the stage and hovers above the audience. For a couple of seconds, it stays suspended in that exact spot before descending into the crowd. As it seems to close in on its target, Makoto can just make out a red dot flashing on a girl’s remote. Everyone in the audience has their own standardised remote. Each one has two buttons and a small diode that can emit light.

The drone floats in front of the girl’s head. Those who are nearby shuffle to give it more space.

“My question is for Naegi-san,” the girl says into her remote, which acts as a microphone too. Makoto wonders if the drone is recording them. She can’t be older than ten. “What was the scariest thing to happen to you during the killing thing?”

For a situation like this, that sort of question isn’t unusual, but none of them knew they would be asked anything, and even if Makoto had been prepared, he doubts he wouldn’t have flinched, or that his heart wouldn’t have skipped or his stomach wouldn’t have felt like it was coated in thick sludge. The girl’s expression remains unmoved. Fixated. Hundreds upon hundreds of eyes prick Makoto’s skin, including those of his former classmates.

And the eyes of his dead classmates.

He breathes shallowly.

“The beginning was really scary,” Aoi pipes up, with an index finger raised.

“Y-Yeah. A lot of it was pretty scary,” he says slowly, his headset amplifying his voice. Makoto winces. His head feels light. Unreal. “Seeing people die... that would scare most people.”

That young girl’s gaze probes him, pawing at the inside of his head. He gulps and with a deep breath, fortifies himself, and speaks through the ringing between his ears.

“For me, the scariest parts... were the first trial, because I didn’t know what to expect, and later when I thought I was about to be executed toward the end,” Makoto says. Silence. Bated breath from all. Makoto laughs a little due to nerves, and his voice cracks. “I didn’t know I would be saved, but the idea of spending the rest of our lives in there... that filled me with dread. But I got through it. That’s... That’s something, isn’t it?”

Right after the girl finished asking her question initially, the light on her remote had switched off. The drone whirrs off and arrives at another person, a young boy, whose remote had started flashing.

“What about the others?” he asks them. “What scared you the most?”

At least that gives Makoto a chance to compose himself. They rattle off their answers. Yasuhiro gives Junko as his answer and grimaces when Aoi reminds him of Alter Ego’s first appearance, then Aoi recalls that and the double murders. Kyouko says she’d rather not answer and Touko agrees quickly, while Byakuya claims that he never felt fear.

“Not even when Enoshima dropped that bomb on you about your family?” asks Yasuhiro.

“... Yes,” says Byakuya. Then, without missing a beat, and with his arms folded over his chest, Byakuya pats his hand against his upper arm and adds, “Next question. We have a lot of people to get through.”

A teenage girl is next.

“Do you ship tofu, Togami-san?” she asks.

One of the things that Future Foundation supposedly do is provide foods, so Byakuya says, “Yes, we do.”

The effects of his words ripple through the crowd, a tide that’s half-roar, half twitter. Makoto and the others exchange mystified looks. Indifferent to the clamour, the drone finds its next participant.

“So tofu is real?” asks another girl, wide-eyed and shaking slightly.

“Yes, obviously it is,” snaps Byakuya, to the same effect.

Noise surges through the crowd. There are a lot of beaming faces. Some are even crying. A few glower and sulk, here and there, but they’re drowned out by the majority, who hoot and hug and weep and wave their arms.

Byakuya blinks and though he tries to keep his expression blank, a bit of bewilderment seeps through, wrinkling his forehead.

“I guess people are really passionate about bean curd,” says Aoi with a bemused smile.

He pushes up his glasses and doesn’t comment. Once the crowd eventually quietens to a low rumble, the drone takes flight and searches for the next person.

It selects a middle-aged man with dull black hair.

“I have a question for Kirigiri,” he says, sort of raspily. “What did you and Naegi really get up to in the locker rooms?”

“Huh?” goes Makoto, puzzled. Kyouko stares at the man, eyes fully open but her mouth shut tight.

“When you guys were in the locker rooms,” explains the man, wringing his remote, and Makoto remembers that there were no cameras in the locker rooms at Hope’s Peak so nothing that transpired in there would have been broadcasted. The man lets out a wheeze. “We saw Togami and Fukawa get down and dirty in the dorm, but were you guys really just talking to the laptop in there?”

The other four turn to Touko and Byakuya. Touko shows a lot of teeth but she isn’t smiling as she peeks up at Byakuya, who stands very, very still.

This explained why Byakuya had been so shocked at finding out they were being broadcasted to the whole of Japan. Someone who knew that certain families controlled the world from the shadows wouldn’t have been surprised at a revelation like that.

“Togami?” says Aoi. She covers her mouth with one hand. “Fukawa-chan?”

“S-So what if we did?” hisses Touko. No one speaks. Touko sneers, sticking up her nose. “W-We both consented! We both could consent. We both... wanted it...!”

Her lips contort as she dithers between smirking and biting on them, but when she glances at Byakuya, her lips slump and she stares down at her feet meekly. For the first time, ever perhaps, Byakuya looks prepared to die.

“I...” Makoto turns back to the audience. His face is stiff and he thinks he’s wearing too many layers. He shakes his head. “No. No, we just talked to Alter Ego in there... That’s all.”

No one is paying much attention to Makoto. Yasuhiro tears his eyes away from Byakuya and Touko.

“Hey, if you guys want juicy details like that, you’ll have to pay upfront after the show,” he tells the audience. “Who has another question?”

While all this had been going on, the drone had been waiting beside a woman who, on appearance, seems to be in her mid-twenties.

“Naegi-kun, do you forgive Maizono-san for her actions prior to her death?” she asks, as formal as her business suit.

Makoto hesitates, and takes a few moments to figure out his answer. Everyone watches him relentlessly. He tries to talk, but nothing comes out at first, and he swallows hard.

“Yes. I do,” he states.

“But she tried to frame you!” shouts a different woman, and the audience fizzes, threatening to explode like a shaken bottle of fizzy drink.

His heart beats fast. Makoto shows his palms.

“Maizono-san wasn’t thinking clearly, and she couldn’t have known that she’d have been sending us all to our deaths if she left,” says Makoto, but his words do little to soothe the crowd. Or do anything, really, apart from attract more questions aimed at him.

“So you think that if she had known, she wouldn’t have done the same thing?” asks a man wearing a jeans jacket. The drone hovers by him.

“I...” Makoto falters, remembering her wide eyes, her trembling hands and her tear stained cheeks. His stomach coils. He rakes his fingers through his hair. “I can’t say... what she’d have done... but Maizono-san was afraid, and her plan failed because her heart wasn’t fully into it. I’m sure she wasn’t thinking straight.”

More chattering.

“She means a lot to me, and in my heart... I know she wasn’t a bad person. I can’t hate her,” says Makoto as firmly as he can.

“But - ”

“Next topic, please,” says Kyouko, interrupting the man, and the drone obediently heads over to someone.

“Do you miss your family, Togami?” asks a man in casual clothes. T-shirt and jeans.

Byakuya turns his head a fraction, cheeks slightly flushed from before.

“The Togami Conglomerate cannot be destroyed as long as I am standing. I am more than capable of returning it to its former glory,” says Byakuya calmly. He nudges up his glasses. “No. It will be superior.”

“Not that, I mean... like your mother and father. Your siblings,” explains the man. “Do you miss them?”

“I lost contact with my siblings a long time ago. They are strangers to me,” says Byakuya plainly, no longer looking at anyone. “As for my parents, I can’t reverse whatever happened. What’s done is done.”

“So you don’t know?” asks a girl, clutching her remote.

A chill scuttles down Makoto. Byakuya’s lips press together.

“Know what?” says Byakuya, eyeing her. The girl is unperturbed.

“Enoshima broadcasted your father’s death to the whole world,” explains the girl. “He was on his knees, begging your Impostor for mercy... At the time, we all thought it was you who killed your dad.”

She says it like she’s reciting a bit of history during a study session. Byakuya’s head jerks back. He gapes at her but hastily throws up an aggressive front.

“That didn’t happen,” he snaps, but the grumbles in the audience suggest otherwise.

No matter how much or how long he glares, no one cracks. His lips quiver before squeezing together, and trembling faintly, he brings his hand to his chin, somewhat holding it, somewhat covering his mouth, and he doesn’t look at anyone, seemingly examining the gradient in the stage flooring with a cold and unreadable face that Makoto thinks could crumble if Byakuya opened his mouth again.

Touko stamps her foot and leans toward the crowd, gritting her teeth. “How dare you upset Byakuya-sama! Have some respect, you preppy, untuned accordion!”

“I just said what happened!” the girl calls out, but her remote no longer functions as a microphone so her voice barely carries over.

“Uh... anyone else got a question?” asks Yasuhiro, forcing a grin.

They watch the drone flit over to the next person.

“What did Oogami mean to you, Asahina?” asks a teenage girl with chin length, turquoise dyed hair.

Makoto glances at Aoi. His heart twinges at the sight of her face. Aoi shifts a foot back, and averts her eyes before she hugs herself.

“Sakura-chan means a lot to me. She was my bestest friend. She comforted me, gives me strength... and I’m going to do the same that she did,” says Aoi, voice shaking, and she rubs the heel of her palm against her eyes. Then she lifts her head, glowing with determination, eyes bright. Tears twinkle in her eyes but they aren’t a sign of weakness. They show her strength. Resilience. “I’m going to become as strong as her. That way, she hasn’t really gone.”

The crowd outnumbers Aoi greatly, but the power of her words, her existence, wash through them all, and they stand in front of her enthralled. Even those on the stage with Aoi are riveted. Aoi puts her hands onto her hips, teary face on proud display. Her smile carves into her cheeks, and she and her companions only faintly register the drone as it flies over the quiet audience to its next destination.

“How can Future Foundation let a disgusting monster walk free?” someone barks.

They whip their heads around. The drone arrived at the group holding signs with Touko’s face crossed out on them.

Touko tenses a second before everyone else on the stage does.

A woman with wiry grey hair grabs the drone to stop it from flying off and though she doesn’t need to, she raises her voice, spraying spit. “Why can that monster go home at the end of the day, but my son can’t? A mother shouldn’t have to outlive her son!”

The drone wiggles but she keeps her grip tight on it. Touko’s elbows draw into her sides and she drags a foot back. She tries to answer but just breathes with a rasp, and her next attempt results in a weak whine.

“Leave Fukawa-chan alone!” Aoi throws an arm in front of Touko, forming a barrier. “She didn’t do those things!”

More shouting, throughout the crowd. Touko cowers more.

“Genocider isn’t going to kill anyone again,” says Makoto, brow furrowed. “She... Genocider... promised me.”

“That’s all you have? Her word? That won’t bring our brothers, our fathers and our children back!” the woman with wild grey hair shouts.

The members of her group bellow their agreement, baring the teeth, contorting their faces. Makoto can’t say they don’t have the right to be hurt, to be angry. He doesn’t have a response. All he can think right now is that Future Foundation didn’t think this through. None of this is beneficial for anyone, not for Genocider’s victims and not for Touko either.

“They’re the same person!” someone else in the group screeches, pointing at Touko. “DID doesn’t work like that. She got the sneeze thing from an anime, and she didn’t faint when she saw that Kuwata boy’s bloody corpse!”

“Hey, the lighting in there was poor, ‘right?” explains Yasuhiro, but the audience doesn’t seem to be listening.

It’s one, large, thrashing entity attacking itself, flaking shouts, boiling with hot emotion and snarls. Touko looks about to vomit. She slaps a hand over her mouth and her legs slowly start to give way as she sinks to the floor. Her eyes don’t blink - her face twitches, but she doesn’t blink.

“We need to get Fukawa-san out of here,” says Kyouko. “Togami-kun, Asahina-san, take her from here.”

Aoi gingerly wraps her arm around Touko, tucking a hand under her armpit, and helps Touko up. Normally, Touko would probably shake Aoi off or argue, but Touko sags against Aoi instead, whimpering. Byakuya frowns at Kyouko.

“Why me as well?” asks Byakuya.

“You will be able to calm her down, and Asahina-san can make sure you’re not too rough,” explains Kyouko. She smirks humorlessly and adds, “And Asahina-san can keep an eye on you two, in case of mischief.”

Byakuya nearly chokes. Only a glimpse of his face can be caught before he turns away sharply, quick to march off. Aoi leads Touko off the stage with Byakuya following close behind. Guards prevent anyone from invading the stage, no matter much certain audience members flail their arms and charge. The crowd shows no signs of calming and in the end, more Future Foundation guards trickle out from around the stage, and after their orders for peace are ignored, they remove the group protesting against Genocider from the area.

This prompts the audience to recede and slowly quieten in fear that they will suffer the same fate.

“We will proceed, but if something like that happens again, question time is over,” warns a woman’s voice through the speakers.

Silence reigns. Someone could sneeze, and everyone would hear. The drone selects its next person. Three of the survivors remain on the stage, and they can’t see their friends anymore. Hopefully, they’re fine. No. They are. Makoto is sure of it. His fists clench.

He doesn’t know how long they’ll be gone but several questions later, and they still haven’t returned.

“Why exactly was Hagakure held back three grades?”

“Can we see Kirigiri’s scars?”

“What sort of girl is Naegi-kun into?”

“Was Hagakure high the whole time?”

“It’s due to a series of misunderstandings. I plan to sell the movie rights, so that’s all I’m saying for now.”

“No.”

“Um... Someone... kind...? With a cute smile... and a good heart? Sorry, I haven’t been thinking about this sort of thing lately.”

“I wasn’t on drugs at any point,” says Yasuhiro with a pucker in the middle of the v-shape that his eyebrows create. He jabs the air furiously. “If any of you guys suggest that again, I’m suing.”

The drone descends to the next participant, to a girl who looks a bit younger than them.

“Naegi-kun, who do you prefer: Kirigiri or Togami?” she asks, jiggling the bangles on her wrists as she shakes her fists excitedly.

“What?” blurts Makoto. Kyouko stiffens. Yasuhiro’s eyebrows rise.

“I mean, Kirigiri’s always cold toward you, and she totally threw you under the bus toward the end,” explains the girl. The crowd mumbles.

Makoto’s smile is tight. “I wouldn’t describe Togami-kun as a warm guy. He can be quite cold too, at times.”

“Yeah, but that’s how he shows affection, right? Otherwise, he wouldn’t make you his errand boy.”

Maybe it’s for the best that Byakuya is absent. Yasuhiro positions his hands onto his hips.

“I think Togami-chi just knows that he can boss Naegi-chi around and not say weird things to him like Fukawa-chi does... or worry that Naegi-chi’s alter will come out and kill him. And I mean, the dude also made Naegi-chi open a door we thought was rigged with a bomb,” Yasuhiro points out.

The crowd mumbles louder. At the edge of his vision, Makoto can discern Kyouko studying him with a small frown. He fidgets with his collar.

“They’re both my friends,” says Makoto, letting go of his collar and lowering his hand. More firmly, he says, “I’m not going to choose between them. Also, Kirigiri-san can be cold sometimes, but I know that she has a good heart. Though she tries to mask some of her emotions sometimes, she’s definitely not emotionless. When she lets us see her true feelings... it’s... nice.”

Okay, he might have fumbled at the end there.

Kyouko touches her heart while Yasuhiro holds in a snort that manifests as a gleam in his eyes. Makoto’s face grows hot and he tries to ignore them. He hears some grumbling from the crowd, but he stands by what he said. The light on the girl’s remote disappears and the drone takes flight. It soon swoops down and hovers in front of the next speaker.

“My question is for Naegi,” says a girl about Makoto’s age. “Who was the cutest?”

He flinches. Kyouko and Yasuhiro jerk their heads back.

“Cutest...?” Makoto repeats, not completely processing the question initially even though on the surface, it’s a simple question.

His brow creases and he scratches lightly at his cheek. The audience hushes, and the tension presses against Makoto, glues his jaw shut.

Not that he has an answer anyway.

“Who...?” he manages, at a loss for words.

“Maizono!” someone yells.

“Oogami!”

“Fujisaki-chan!”

“No, Togami! He thinks Togami’s the cutest, duh!”

People begin shouting different names, and though the girl says something, even with her remote projecting her voice, she can’t be heard over everyone else.

The drone zooms around to various people.

“Obviously, he finds Kirigiri-san the cutest!” crows a teenage boy, and the drone flies off in one direction.

“No way!” says a man with rimless glasses. “Kirigiri doesn’t feel that way about him! It’s one-sided.”

It goes in the other direction.

“Naegi’s the one that doesn’t reciprocate her feelings!” says someone else, a woman with a bob cut.

The bickering continues. Makoto haplessly looks one way and another, again and again. This would have continued for longer, most likely, had after a few more head tosses, his head not veered into someone’s palm. He starts to turn more, to see who has grabbed hold of his cheek, but colours blur as a pair of lips crash into his. His body seizes up. Surroundings bleed through, all violets and pale skin, and the texture of the gloves that cradle his cheek give the person away.

Kyouko. It’s Kyouko. Kissing him. Makoto. She sets a hand onto his hip and adjusts her angle. He’s frozen, even as her warmth leaks into him, even as his heart works itself into a frenzy.

For a few moments, the audience is transfixed in silence, or perhaps time has stopped completely. All he knows, all he can think about, is her.

Then, there’s cheering. Some people might be moaning or huffing, but those sounds are trodden on in the stampede of elation. Kyouko dips him, keeping her mouth on his, her heat entangled with his, their hearts connected, and the noise grows almost deafening.

Makoto slowly relaxes, and he stays as he is.

Finally, Kyouko straightens, holding Makoto, who goes limp in her arms.

“Any more questions?” she asks.

Not a single one.

[brutallyromantic]

I wrote the beginning of something because I’m weak. I have other things to work on, so I don’t know if I will continue this at all. But here, enjoy:

---------

No romance starts on purpose, and it was the same here. If someone had told May Parker just a year earlier that she'd be staring up at the woman who'd nearly destroyed the city, lips still parted from the impromptu kiss they'd shared, she would have laughed herself sick before promptly delivering a solid smack upside the head to said unfortunate speaker.

And yet she found herself in the precarious position now, in her own backyard, having only just come up from the lab after synthesizing the latest batch of web fluid for the boy she might as well adopt as family at this point. God, he was getting good at what he did, taking hold of his title as protector of the city and running with it like he was born for the role.

It didn't start from day one, clearly, nor even day thirty or fifty. Hell, it was nearly half a year before the mad doctor had shown her face again after the destruction of her collider, startling the living daylights out of poor Miles when she jerked him out of the air mid-swing only to smash him into the side of a building with great enthusiasm. The ensuing fight was covered for weeks in the news, and Liv had gotten away with relatively little damage, though Miles had told May that she seemed a bit less on her game than she had the last time they'd tussled.

May imagined so, considering she'd been assumed dead after the explosion of her machine, and no doubt she'd sustained some serious injuries. It made the older woman wonder just what she was doing going public again, putting a price on her head. She wondered too where the scientist was hiding, and couldn't help the little coils of grudging respect that nestled in her belly. It must have taken a lot to get through the damage that had been done, both physically and mentally, for May could imagine what it was like to lose everything important in one's life.

Sure, the doctor had lost a machine and not people, so it wasn't really the same, but nonetheless she couldn't help but identify with her to some degree, despite the ache in her gut that still made itself known when she thought about all she'd lost thanks to the other woman.

May Parker had always been far too soft for her own good. For all that she would break her bat over a villainous head with a smile on her face, the parts of her that found something to admire in everyone, and something with which to empathize, infected her with a curiosity and a pity that wouldn't be ignored.

Four months after Liv made her public return by thrashing the young new Spider-Man, she showed up on May's doorstep. When the doorbell rang out the clear notes signalling a visitor, May's jaw nearly dropped at the sight of the notorious villainess. Olivia Octavius stood before her with a scowl, and May reached for her bat, but the other woman made no move to defend herself beyond the quite snatch of the bat from the older woman's hands.

"If you don't mind, the latest fight with your little nuisance of a hero has left some damage that I'm in no mood to spend hours undoing." Her tone was curt and the motion of her hand to the mass of hair hanging half loose around her shoulders brought a disbelieving laugh to May's lips. Webbing. Tangled in the mass was an uncomfortable looking amount of webbing, and May knew from experience that it certainly would take hours to remove.

Without the dissolving fluid, that is.

"You can't be serious", May responded with another laugh. "You just showed up to ask for…help with your hair?"

Liv shrugged, but her arms crossed defensively. "It seemed the easiest way to remove it." May's eyes flicked to her stolen bat, still held tight in one of Liv's hovering tentacles.

"And if I say no? Why the hell would I help you?"

Again the scientist shrugged, but this time it was followed by an annoyed roll of her eyes, her tone growing impatient. "Solidarity? I'm sure you've gotten this in your hair at some point or another."

"You didn't answer my question. What if I say no?" May was curious now. What would Liv do? Threaten her? Hurt her? It wasn't as if she could really offer any kind of fight. She might be strong, but being four limbs down in comparison to the other woman did not a fair fight make.

"I could break your house again, if you need incentive", Liv said flatly, "but I'd much rather be on my way."

Frowning, May cast a glance outside towards the surrounding houses. What would the neighbors think of a the villainess standing so casually at her door? Hell, a part of her wished the woman would attack her, if only to make this look less incriminating.

"Come in."

Okay so we've all read into May saying 'Liv' a hundred million times, and I love it. But imagine she only said that because Peter explained his encounter with our favourite doctor.

Then imagine May choosing to call her Liv, instead of her villain title, and imagine she came back to fight Miles on a regular basis after all the events of the movie happened. Imagine they develop an antagonistic relationship with each other and exchange banter on occasion.

Imagine they form a strange bond and sometime they team up to help Miles with a far bigger danger.

I'm imagining a great number of things and they're all incredibly gay, someone stop me.

[scifimagpie]

What Even are Jokes?

Millennials - and now, Gen Z - have some weird coping mechanisms.

On a late-night browse through Twitter - which, honestly, tends to stir many ideas - I was reading one-liners and social justice observations while Bad Romance, a podcast about ill-conceived romantic comedies, played in the background. As one of the posts, Jourdain, plaintively asked her boyfriend, "why are you like this," I laughed. It's a favorite memetic joke of mine, and a standard in our household, often repeated when something has gone awry.

Similarly, other simple, despairing cries have become a form of humour - such as the one that inspired the title of this post.

Why are you like this? 

A few years ago, it was Generation Y, the Millennials, who were supposed to Save Us All. Whether we do or not, however, it's impossible to deny that Generation Y - most of us barely in our 20s or 30s - are already exhausted.

Fatalistic, often beset by mental health issues, physical health issues, a history of trauma, societal marginalizations, poverty, or often, a combination of these, Millennials have turned to three coping mechanisms - weed, the internet, and each other. Perhaps it's an uncanny combination of all three that's led to a weird comedic renaissance.

Of course, sweeping and broad generalizations have their limits, but suffice to say that I'm talking about concepts that cross and touch on cultural elements from the queer community, the online community of people of colour, the disabled community and autistic community, and other overlapping groups - yes, including straight, cisgender, heterosexual, and white people. Many of us, as I've said, have various struggles right now, but the common language of memes and comedy often unites us.

For the lols

Comedy tends to fall in broad political groups. Those of us on the left try to eschew jokes that play on "punching down" and enforce marginalizing power structures. In search of comedy that doesn't reflect the regressive ethos of the 90s, our era of origin, a strain of Dadaist absurdism has formed the DNA of our comedy.

Millennial jokes and humour really give me pause. There are intricate rules of grammar, both visual and verbal, that must be obeyed for punchlines to land, but it's also easy to form new jokes using or playing on these rules. References to Tide Pods or moral panics of the day, InTenTiOnAlLy PoR oR iNcOmpRehEnSiBle WrItIng, a focus on poor judgement calls, and mental and physical health symptoms all characterize popular topics. GIFS and images - sometimes macros, sometimes on their own - work either as stand-alone punchlines or visual completions of verbal jokes. Some GIFS and images have taken on their own significance, often completely disconnected from the image's original context. Michael Jackson eating popcorn from a scene in the "Thriller" music video indicates an enjoyment of drama ensuing in a conversation thread. Kermit the Frog sipping a cup of Lipton tea indicates a sassy judgement.

Of course, there are many more. Ironic and sarcastic references to educational or edutainment television such as "The More You Know", to childhood favorite cartoons, and even anonymous photographs of strangers' cats can all serve as side-splitting punchlines. References to creative media that cross over with popular aphorisms from Twitter and Tumblr, and sometimes Reddit and Facebook, bleed in and out of fashion. Decontextualizing them for a moment, it's almost baffling or bewildering. Given that much of the humour is highly context-based or simply absurdist, some of it "pure" or "wholesome" (i.e. relying on positive, sweet, or heartwarming experiences) and some of it utterly fatalistic, it can be hard to understand how all of the jokes work, or even why they're important.

A brief history of suicide jokes

But very noticeable is the prevalence of jokes about death, suicide, and existentialism. Multiple media outlets have been horrified and fascinated and wagged their fingers at us for this type of humour. 

However, these jokes were also very common during and just after the Great Depression - as demonstrated in a plethora of classic cartoons. 

I think there's a sort of nihilistic argument that at least suicide restores a sense of control, and in a world where the climate crisis' impact is more visible than ever, where chronic mental health problems are an epidemic, and where access to medical care or time off for sickness is rarer and harder to get than it has been in decades (well, stable in its awfulness in some cases), maybe people feel like suicide is the one way to take things back. Maybe it's a way to make the very real possibility of succumbing to depression or other illnesses a bit less scary - whistling in the dark, as some writers used to call it. Absurdist things also tend to play into this. If we can't ignore our demons, perhaps we can befriend them.

Is it okay?

Honestly, I was stumped about what all of this means. Why do Millennials turn to humour like this to survive? What does it provide for us? My partner had a wry insight into the vital role comedy is playing in our survival. "Humour at times like this is an important act of balancing that allows us to reject the horrible situation we live with, while still existing in it. We have been told to accept what we have to pay bills and get by, but this balancing act allows us to not accept it, but live with and cope with it," he pointed out.

It also serves the role of a shibboleth, a passcode or phrase of recognition. Users of Tumblr, Twitter, and even Facebook become fluent in both memes from within their communities and outside them. For instance, members of politically conservative tribes (in the ethno-cultural sense of the word "tribe") are extremely fond of the Minions from the "Despicable Me" series, to the extent that Minions have developed their own independent associations.

On the other hand, certain phrases, such as a "good good [adjective or noun] boy" to describe a creature, object, or person of which the speaker approves, evolved out of the My Brother, My Brother, and Me podcast, but has a simple structure that makes it easy to replicate. Even without the original context of the show, the structure of the phrase has an inherent appeal and comedic elegance that gives it broad applicability to a variety of situations.

It's not as bad as it looks

Honestly? Any coping mechanism can be bad for one if it's used in place of self-improvement, but it's impossible to miss the sweeping waves of therapist jokes that have also taken over the internet. And maybe that's a good sign.

The key is to turn our jokes and fears into action. I'm not finished feeling shocked by how effective direct local action is compared to arguing on the internet. Using online connections to build local friendships and develop solidarity both far and nearby is really important, and for those who can't afford therapy, the support of friends really helps recovery. 

***

Michelle Browne is a sci fi/fantasy writer and editor. She lives in Lethbridge, AB with her partner-in-crime and Max the cat. Her days revolve around freelance editing, knitting, jewelry, and learning too much. She is currently working on other people’s manuscripts, the next books in her series, and drinking as much tea as humanly possible.

Find her all over the internet: * OG Blog * Mailing list * Magpie Editing * Amazon * Medium * Twitter * Instagram * Facebook * Tumblr * Paypal.me * Ko-fi

[writingmaniacnerdart]

Resurrected Repartee: A Hallowed Shapes AU Chapter 13 - We Are Ghosts

These are alternative scenes and/or snippets of a developing relationship between my OC and Loki from my original fiction, Hallowed Shapes, for any shippers out there.

Basic Concept: Terra Barloc is a member of Damage Control, an organization that cleans up super messes, and frankly, all of them are kind of tired of cliches and super bulls***t. She has abilities to see “life energy” as she calls it, in the forms of symbols, and through lies and facades. That means shape-shifting and tricking her can be well, tricky. Plus, she’s addicted to caffeine, painkillers don’t have much of an affect on her, and she can’t get drunk.

What happens the first time when she meets Loki, Prince of Asgard? Well, he was invading Earth and…She tackled him, insulted him, and uh, it’s best just to read. Let’s just say these two have issues, massive issues.

So getting them into a romance, is going to be a bit of an adventure.

Terra was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking out at the stars with anxiety. Loki sat next to her, smiling gently, “Nervous?”

“Let’s see, the entire fate of my world is resting in my hands and I’m also going to be locked up in a small metal container, a person who is known to have problems with small spaces and physical contact, for a number of weeks?” she deadpanned, giving him a droll expression. “What little questionable sanity I have is being pushed to its limits, more so than usual.”

“That does appear to happen often,” he conceded sagely. “But, perhaps being stuck here won’t be so awful?”

“I’m not saying it’ll be awful, just...Difficult,” she struggled to say, trying to find the right words. “I mean, it’s a nice ship, and I’m here with people who I know don’t mean me harm, most of whom I know I can trust but...That doesn’t mean I can always alter the course of my mind or emotions...If I’m honest, I’m terrified of whatever’s coming my way.”

They sat there for a while in the quiet. Oddly enough, though no words were spoken, it felt like there didn’t need to be any said. They both knew there was so much happening, too much too delve into. And, maybe sitting beside each other could be enough?

He smiled, taking her hands gently in his and having her stand up with him. Leaning over to the nearby speaker, he pressed a button, and music began to play, with him swaying from side to side. She gave him a confused look, blinking several times as though she were trying to sort out the newest form of cognitive dissonance presented before her. The confusion evaporated though, as they grew closer, and she relaxed with him, placing her trust in him. They giggled, laughing even a little at first at the silliness of the situation, trying to get used to the weirdness that was of them dancing.

“I want you to know this instead, that I see the light in your chest...Ghost, where you from? I can take you away, so far away. Ghost, I'll make sure they all see the kind of man, that you can be…”

Neither really paid attention to the lyrics at first, only each other as the distance melted away, a hand on her hip, and one on his shoulder. The door to the room closed and clicked with lock. Loki revealed himself freely and without her asking then, his true form bare before her, and her eyes possibly the darkest, warmest hue of brown he’d seen yet as they moved in circles. They were vulnerable to one another, and it was okay...It was more than okay. He could almost feel himself melting in the warmth of her gaze in the best of ways, and he didn’t want to escape. And she found solidarity in his, a place to stand with.

“Open your lungs and inhale my words. I see in your eyes a reflection of hurt. The book in your mind hasn't come to an end. There's always a page, that hasn't been read…”

He lifted her off her feet then, spinning her around, and she wasn’t afraid, holding onto him. Their faces were so close, barely a breath away, and something, something palpable was there. Both of their heartbeats pounded, softening only slightly as he set her on the ground again.

“I won't let you slip away, is there any hope for us left...Even a ghost needs a friend…”

The dance was slowing, and they put their foreheads together, softly swaying from side to side, faces flushed, and fingers intertwined. Terra let out a huff of air, smiling nervously, and he mimicked the action, whether consciously or subconsciously, not even he could tell. Carefully, he pulled her into an embrace, burying his face into her neck, with her doing the same.

“Your heart, it beats, forever, forever, we see, I will believe, that there's a ghost in me…”

His hands were around her waist, behind her back. Hers were wrapped behind his neck. And, how strange and confusing this all was? How much was churning and turning and twisting through their minds? How many questions? Were there any answers? Reluctantly peering at each other, they asked silently without a word.

“Your lungs they breathe, forever, forever, we see, I will believe…”

Terra started to reach up towards Loki, pausing as she quietly asked for permission. He took her hand and placed it on his cheek, closing his eyes as he savored her touch. Opening them once more, crimson and brown meld as they stared at each other when the music died, leaving just the two of them, inching ever closer.

“I will believe…” the lyrics continued to echo even as the words drifted away into nothingness.

They continued looking, searching, and just when Loki swallowed, opening his mouth to say something, there was a banging on the door. Grimacing, he cursed under his breath. Terra offered him a small, sad yet understanding smile.

“Later?” she offered, even if she wasn’t entirely sure what she was offering. There were too many thoughts, too many emotions dashing in her mind to process at the moment.

He nodded, and she went to answer the door.

This is NOT a canon scene from my fanfiction, but if it was, it would likely take place in Hallowed Shapes: Thursday, somewhere in either Chapter 21: Bacon, or Chapter 22: Walkman.

The song is We Are Ghosts by Jacob Lee, which I do NOT own.

This scene was requested and partially inspired by the infamous Harry/Hermione dancing sequence in the Deathly Hallows, which a particular Beta Reader also ships.

Sorry, no kissing or hanky panky.

Well, at least no kissing...Yet.

PS  One of my Beta Readers really liked the idea of shipping Loki with my OC even though they’re not canon in my fanfiction, Hallowed Shapes.We’re friends and while I didn’t get it at first, I’m not against anyone shipping said character with other fictional characters as long as everything’s consensual and/or healthy relationship-wise. Heck, I’m a little supportive because Loki’s literally gender-fluid and both characters are LGBT (neither are straight) even if I don’t directly ship them.So, that being said, I originally wrote these alternative scenes of my story for their birthday.

[ryujitatsuya]

Heyyo minna, It’s Ryuuji Tatsuya! Back when I had no idea about what these award posts were all about, I remember seeing a post regarding the Leibster award. Even though I had only posted 3 things during that time and zero interaction with other bloggers, I really wanted that award and thus I read the whole post in a hope of finding my name in the post; shocking fact, I didn’t get it!

Anyways, since then I really wanted this award, and you have no idea how many times I prayed to get the Leibster award when I saw the notification of getting linked to an award post. With time, that act of mine disappeared and I somehow forgot that such an award exists.

However, thanks to the amazing blogger Chizurue, I was able to attain this childish dream of mine. I can’t thank you enough for that! Guys, please check her posts out, this coffee and cat loving comrade of mine has written some great stuff, and her Top Ten posts are just top notch! If you still don’t think that you should go then let me give you an ultimate reason to do so…….. CATS! (If nothing, you could just aww at the cute cat pics she posts in most of her works) Just hurry and go read them!

After that, I thought that maybe that’s all (Since I don’t get tagged for the same award by different bloggers at the same time period), and was waiting for the month to end to start writing the award post; but then Smile came in and gave me a reason to keep giggling all day!

This guy has a direct connection to my funny bone! I mean, his posts are just so funny that even Nestor can’t keep a stone face while reading it (My English teacher would be so proud if she saw that I slipped in a Shakespearean reference QuQ). The way he analyses or shares something about anime is really funny but still you can’t take what he wants to say lightly; a feat that most of the comedians die to attain! So yeah, if you just came in from looking at Chizuru’s blog then here, go and read Smile’s posts too. I don’t know, I want you to read them before mine! GO! NOW!

Keep clicking on the links, slaves!

Back, are you? Good. Now the day I thought I would write this post, I saw two notifications; one from WordPress and the other one from Facebook. I checked out the one from WordPress and found that Brittney has nominated me for this award too! I was really happy, and I remember laughing maniacally after reading it (My mom called dad just after seeing that, and my dad in return asked my Psychiatrist if we are too late to start diagnosis). Well after that I checked FB and a random guy was asking me for recommendations and well…. We know what happened after that (If you don’t then click here) #Shameless_Self_Promotion

So here’s another job for you guys, go and check out Brittney’s blog. I know, I know that you guys are tired from clicking around and all the other stuff but her posts are just so great and have this familiar feeling to them, which will make your heart melt. I promise this will be a wonderful experience so go on (If you don’t I’ll kill this watermelon!).

Anyways, now that the stage is set and the questions are ready; without any further delay, let’s get right into it!

RULES:

Share the link of the blogger who has shown love to you by nominating you. Answer the 11 questions.

Nominate 11 bloggers for the same award in the spirit of sharing love and solidarity with our blogging family.

Ask them 11 questions that you are dying for the answers to!

Chizuru’s Questions:

What is your crazy dream? The craziest one yet or you could list ’em! (No judgy eyes here. Pinky swear.) I’m not really that good with remembering my dream so the one that I’m going to share might be a bit vague. Anyways, in the dream, I was coming back home from my cram school as usual. It gets really dark when I come home (About 9:30 PM), but the usual path that I take is actually quite well lit. There is another way to return home, which I don’t usually take because it’s way too complex. Somehow, I found myself returning from that dark and complex alley, because the dream me is stupid (Ok, stupider than me).

So well it was ok for the first few meters but then suddenly it started to become more and more deserted; the shops and number of people got less and then BAM there was nothing, only the endlessly stretching road. I should be scared to death by all this but instead of that, I was grinning and threw away my bag on the road, laughing really loud. Then came some random beefed up guys and surrounded me, as if I were a bucket of fried chicken; but they also got strange and laughed with me. I took out a knife from my pocket (WHICH JUST HAPPENED TO BE THERE!!), and asked one of them with a cold voice, “I hope the job is done…” (Note: I wasn’t looking at anyone and was just examining my knife); that guy was a bit shook up and spoke gibberish, as if he wasn’t expecting that. “I don’t need useless people following me around”, I said in an angry tone and dashed at him, slitting his throat open. The rest of the guys ran away, as I stood there beside the body of the beefed up guy that lied there, lifeless.

Now cut to my home. I walked in and was greeted by some random strangers (Apparently, they were the members of my foster family), who rained punches and kicks at me since I was really late. My lips started bleeding when they stopped, but I wiped it as if it was nothing and went to my room. I took out the head of that guy I killed before from my bag, and placed it on the table saying, “If only you did your work correctly”. The dream ends with me writing something in my notebook; it said, “Next Sunday, kill everyone in the family yourself”

Well, I know it wasn’t creepy but it’s the only dream I recall and can put into this category.

  A character you would like to meet in real life and be fast friends with (or maybe more than friends)? WHY? (Anything from anime, manga, k-drama, books, tv series)

I actually want to have Maria from Hayate: The combat butler to be my maid, and well, become something more than that. Let’s just say, I want to achieve what Hayate wasn’t able to, a really active love life with my lovely maid, Maria~ *Le Drools*

  To follow up that previous one: Which fictional character would be the most boring to meet in real life?

Tanaka-kun. Why? Because he’s always listless.

  Favorite music or album you could listen to all day? And why? Is it the lyrics, the melody or the vocals?

I’m the kind of music lover who likes a song based on the chorus part and the background music. No matter which language a certain song uses, as long as the background music is according to my taste, I’ll listen to it a million times.

I could rant all day about my favourite songs, picking just one is unfair so here are four. I love Shape of you (Ed Sheeran), Let me hear (Fear and Loathings in Las Vegas), Fireflies (Owl City) and Mitti di Khushboo (Ayushmaan Khurrana).

  What book/anime would you recommend to someone who have never read/watched the genre (fantasy, horror, YA, mystery, erotica, poetry or anything etc.) or the type of materials to appreciate fiction (books, manga, light novels, anime, etc.). Choose one or two. The more the merrier!

Funny that I did recommend some from Romance genre to a certain someone and he ended up calling them girly. LOL, I’m kidding. But yeah, if I had to convince someone WITH A BROADER MINDSET to watch Romance genre, I would recommend him/her Toradora, and Your Lie in April. These two are series that you should never miss!

  What are you deathly afraid of?

Nothing materialistic comes to my mind at the moment, actually. So I would say that I’m afraid of not being able to tell someone how I feel before it’s too late; that actually makes me shiver in fright.

  What is the funniest word to you? (Mine is apparently ‘pengwings’. Just ask Benedict Cumberbatch) Or anything that makes you laugh when you hear it?

Womanhood. Ok this might not make you guys laugh, but I crack up on hearing this word all the time. Actually, when I first saw this word, she was referring to the…. female genitals. So, yeah…. It’s awkward now that I told you why (Still funny tho XD)

  What mythical creature would you like as a pet?

My Alias is Ryuuji, of course it will be Dragon!!

  What’s the most useless talent you have?

The ability to crack useless jokes all the time and make a complete fool of myself at any given instant (I’m kinda like Chandler).

  If you could level up humans as a species, what stat or ability would you increase? And why?

Common sense. Most of the humans need that.

  Would you rather live your entire life in a virtual reality where all your wishes are granted or in the real world? Explain your choice.

Let’s face it Virtual life will always remain virtual, Fake! No matter how many wishes are granted, it will never become reality; also, there’s no boundation that even without getting all my wishes granted, I wouldn’t be happy. So yeah, real world for the win!

Smile’s Questions:

You wake up in a windowless room with no memory of how you got there. There’s one door, but it’s locked. As you look around, you notice your family members are there as well. What is the first thing that you do?

Well of course I would do the sanest thing, KICK THE DOOR! Ok kidding, I would ask my parents if they are ok and try to investigate as to what was going on.

  A voice comes through the speakers informing you and your family that they’ve been chosen for a test. If they succeeded, then each member gets one million dollars, but you must stick together and do this as a family. The voice then says that if you wish to leave, then you can, but that means your family won’t win anything. One half of your family wants to leave, while the other wants to stay. You’re the deal breaker, which side do you go with?

To hell with this game! I’m happy with whatever we have right now, and even though a lot of my dreams might come true if I choose to take the test, who knows what might be at stake? It’s better to be safe than sorry, if I knew what was gonna happen then that’s a different story; but since it’s not, Adieu!

  If you chose to go with the game, congrats you can go through the door. If you chose to leave, then you can also go through the door. Ah, there’s only one door though and you’re forced to take part in the game regardless of whether you wanted to or not. How do you feel about this?

Honestly, I want to break those speakers and curse the hell out of that guy who told us to make the choice. If I ever run into him, he’s so gonna get punched in the face!

  The door leads to a hallway, which connects to your house. Huh, that’s weird. You guys walk into your living room and sit down. Nothing happens after. In fact, you guys sit there for a good hour wondering when the game will start but you hear nothing. Someone mentions that there’s probably no game and no money. This entire thing was due to food poisoning from the food that you made. How do you feel about that?

I would look at the one who said that, wearing a poker face. Seriously? I have been cooking some incredible dishes for the last 6 years and never have I cooked something that might create problems. How could someone say something so rude right at my face? Well, I might also challenge him/her to a SHOKUGEKI, right there right then!

  You argue your case, but no one seems to care about your words. Since nothing has happened, they decided to go with the food poisoning angle and banned you from the kitchen until further notice. Your mom tries to cheer you up, but still says the ban needs to happen. Dejected, you go up to your room only to find it trashed beyond repair. The only thing that’s okay is your mirror. When you look at it, what do you see reflected back?

My dejected face + My angry face + My confused face + My WTF face + My “Is this my room” face + My “Huh! I might as well let my all anger out in this already trashed room” face = This face.

  You let out a sigh and walk back downstairs. Someone trashed your room, but you don’t know who did it. As you’re walking down the stairs, you notice that the house is eerily quiet. Too quiet, in fact. You bend down and see your family playing ‘What time is it Mr. Wolf’ with a monster like creature. It seems like the game started, but you’re not a part of it. Why do you think that is?

Well my first action would be to google what that game is, and if it seems not to be of that much fun then I would just sit at the corner of the room and watch them play. However, if the game really is fun then I would walk into the room, look at them all, close the door, crack my knuckles and……….. Sit in the corner, because I hate it when someone interrupts me when I play something with my friends (or family).

  You try not to make a sound as you watch the game unfold. Your grandma ended up winning the game and everyone rejoices that they’re one-step closer in their goal. The monster like creature disappears and your living room goes back to normal. When you confront your family about the game, they ignore you. Everyone ignores you. It’s almost as if you’re not even there. What do you do to get their attention?

“Whoa Grandma, where the heck did you come from?” would be what I might say at first since she doesn’t lives with us.

Well if they really ignore me then I might get dejected and walk back to my room….. HA HA! SCREW THAT! If they don’t acknowledge my presence then challenge accepted, time to break all the showpieces!!!!

  Whatever you do, it doesn’t work. Nothing does in fact. So what is worse, being accused of being a food poisoner or being ignored like this?

Accused of being a food poisoner! Ignore me all you want, but do NOT call my food the cause of food poison. I have a lot of pride in that section.

  Annoyed and even more alone than before, you push by everyone and try to leave the house. That’s when you hear your mom say your name. You turn around and see her crying saying that she wishes you were still there with them. Your dad remains stoic as he comforts her. You start walking towards her and that’s when you notice it, your body on the floor of the living room. How do you react?

“Oh my God, I’m dead! I’m literally lying dead on the floor!! And- hey do I really look like that? Meh, no wonder no girl approached me be- THAT’S NOT THE CASE!! HOW DID I EVEN DIE??? Wait…. Does that mean, I can’t watch anime or eat pizza anymore??!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” is what I might say while constantly banging my head against the wall.

  Oh wait, it’s not you, it’s not even human. You bend down to take a closer look and notice that it’s just a mannequin wearing your clothes. Weird. So why was your mother crying like that? You look back at your family and they’re starring start at you. They look angry, but distant at the same time. You let out a nervous laugh and try to move, but their eyes are locked on you. This is definitely strange, but at least they’re paying attention to you now. What do you say to them in order to get them to stop?

“I…. umm..” he fidgeted a little and walked towards his parents, who were looking at him with those same angry yet distant emotions. He looks up at his Dad, then at his Mom who was crying just a few seconds ago. “I just want to say that….” He reaches out to grab their hand and locks eyes with them, and with a small sob he says, “I want to take a shit!” No sooner did he utter those words than he broke down, crying.

  You try to leave the house, but the door is locked, so you rush back to your room and close the door behind you. Your family is seriously creeping you out, but what’s even creepier is that your room is no longer trashed. In fact, it looks better than ever, except for the mirror. Before it was in pristine condition, but now it’s broken and with spider webbed cracks all over. When you take a closer look, you notice someone that looks just like you staring back. They smile and wave, even though you’re not smiling and waving. Their room is in shambles, while yours is in perfect order. The figure in the mirror leans in close and asks you a simple question: What is your favourite colour?

Simple, huh? *Breaks the mirror and looks at his parents* Enough drama for today, let’s just go to sleep.

  Brittney’s Questions:

This one is simple. Kiss, marry and kill (anime version). Tell me who you would pick for each. (3 differentanime characters)

Kiss: Maria, Rui, Holo, Ami, Sena, Ino, Ko- Oh, I have to choose one? Meh.

Marry: Maria! Oh my god, I love her so much!

Kill: The whole cast of Akame ga kill- wait…

Oh Maria..

  Who is the most attractive female/male actress you can think of? (my answer would be Keira Knightley in Pirates of the Caribbean for female, and for male, Logan Lerman or Taron Egerton) I have already answered that in my Five Flaming Hotties Tag and I’m really lazy so here comes the link bomb! BOOM!!!

  Name your top 4 voice actors / actresses for anime dubbed or subbed. I love the subbed versions since when they ramble random alien language with emotions, it just sounds cooler (Just kidding, I love them in general). I really like the voices of Hiroshi Kamiya (Especially for Araragi and Izaya), Saori Hayami (God her voice is alone to make my heart beat fast), Shizuka Ito (She’s like the queen of seductive voice) and finally, Moore Candice (How can we ever forget Maria’s English voice).

  Marvel or DC?

Neither

  If you were to be born in a past decade other than the one you were born in, what decade would that be and why?

I guess I would go into the future, maybe the third last generation before the end of the world. I mean, what could possibly be more exciting than seeing my descendants die or abandon Earth because it’s too hard to live here anymore!

  If you could bring one anime character to life and they would immediately fall in love with you, who would it be?

I actually want to struggle to love Maria so I won’t be calling her. I guess I would rather go with Rui Tachibana because, God damn!

  Do you like Christmas and if so, what is your most fond memory during this time of year?

We don’t really celebrate Christmas that elaborately so there aren’t that much of a craze here. But I do remember going out with my friends to a nearby church back in 2014 during these holidays, and that was the last time we all hung out together so I guess that’s my most delightful memories of the holiday season.

  If you were given the chance to travel to space, would you?

Of course!

  What would you like for Christmas (and no, don’t worry about ‘asking for too much’ or sounding greedy, its Christmas!)

I actually want to have a world tour without any tension about the financial problems and my studies. If not world, at least Japan, Australia, England and US; I want to meet some of my really good friends from there and if possible, my blogger buddies too.

  Top 3 countries or cities you would like to visit in the world?

I just answered it; Japan, Australia and England.

  One anime world you would like to be apart of?

I would love to be in one of those Harem anime with lots of fanservice. Even though they infuriate me a lot, I want to switch place with that lucky bastard who gets stuffed between all those supple pair of…….. Goodness. Namely, HSDXD and Monster Musume. 

NOMINATION TIME:

I’m gonna be a bit lazy this time so, 6 peeps will be nominated~

Saki

Tetrax

Sheyna Dolls

Irina

Arria Cross

Karandi

  MY QUESTIONS:

I’m sorry…… I just had to….

Would you rather go to the past or the future?

What does your dream house looks like?

If you could have any three cars, then which one would they be? Give a pic too.

How would your ideal  partner be like?

Would you rather trade someone’s intelligence for looks or looks for intelligence.

If you were an animal or mythical creature, what would you be?

According to you, what is the best thing about anime?

Which anime couple do you hate?

Mention your most loved anime ship.

What kind of power would you like to have if you ever get in an anime world?

Fuel from petrol pump A costs 3 per gallon and from petrol pump B costs 5 per gallon. Mr.S have at most 20 to spend on fuel. Write a system of its linear inequalities.

And finally, this really long award post comes to an end. Wow, this might just be the longest post I have ever written. Anyways, thanks a lot to everyone who nominated me, this award really means a lot to me; not to mention the questions were really fun to answer too! Until my next post, I hope you guys have a great time and as always, thanks for reading!

3 is Better Than 1: Leibster Award Heyyo minna, It’s Ryuuji Tatsuya! Back when I had no idea about what these award posts were all about, I remember seeing a post regarding the Leibster award.

[beautiful-basque-country]

And then people wonder why Basques want independence 🙄 Anyway, all my solidarity with Euskaldunak ❤️💚🤍 On a more happier note, do cinemas in Euskal Herria also dub the audio in Euskara? Since in Spain everything is dubbed, does it also happen in the "Nationality regions"?

Kaixo anon!

There are some films that are dubbed to Euskara, but very very few.

This is due to two main reasons, both of economic nature:

The biggest dubbing studios are mostly located in Madrid and Barcelona. This is the reason why in those regions there's a big source of voice acting schools, and many of them have this agreement with some studios to let the students practice and many of them get a job afterwards. This explains why most of the most talented and popular voice actors are from Madrid and Catalunya. Catalan voice actors can perfectly dub in Català too, so they have the studios and the artists, and that's why many films are dubbed to Català.

In Euskal Herria, there are like 2 o 3 dubbing studios, all of them very very small, and the voice talent is limited: not because we're bad at it, but because there are less Basque-speaking people than Spanish or Català speakers. Besides, the target audiences are also limited: when you dub some production to Català you can reach a 10 million people audience, much more if you include the Romance language speakers that can understand it; when you dub to Spanish, you're going for +500 million people; when you dub to Basque, you're limited to just 1M, so the money you spend in dubbing to Euskara may not return at all, and that's the biggest issue with the Basque dubbing industry: since it's not profitable, it's limited to cartoons for kids that are broadcasted by the Basque public TV, this is, financially supported by the Basque government aka us Basque tax payers. It's all about the money in the end.

Thanks for your solidarity! 🥰🥰

[madamedefarge]

I am accepting the Unique Blogger Award from Holly @ Nut Free Nerd. If you haven’t checked out Holly’s blog, you should, she posts amazing discussions and oftentimes her discussions end up in my The Sunday Post feature.

The Rules

Share the link of the blogger who has shown love to you by nominating you.

Answer the questions.

In the spirit of sharing love and solidarity with our blogging family, nominate 8-13 people for the same award.

Ask them three questions.

Holly’s Questions

1. Do you have a favorite book genre?

I honestly love World War II fanfiction, but it is getting kind of heavy as of late. I recently talked a bit about this in the How I Choose My Books Tag. I have read a lot of books centered around this time period and I’ve been in awe of the different perspectives that authors are unearthing.

I have many World War II books still on my list, but I am constantly talking about City of Thieves by David Benioff, and I loved listening to Salt to the Sea earlier this month, and I really liked Code Name Verity and Rose Under Fire by Elizabeth Wein. On my TBR pile is Mischling, All the Light We Cannot See, The Women in the Castle, and Lilac Girls!

2. How do you feel about what is considered to be “classic” literature?

I honestly feel like there is a nebulous definition of what is considered “classic” literature. On one hand, you see authors like Charles Dickens and Jane Austen which I don’t think anyone says aren’t canonical to classic literature, but there are newer books as well that can be considered classic but are definitely more modern but definitely have the same “staying power” as sone of the Victorian romances.

Honestly, I think if we can hurl an insult and it’s understood, even by people who haven’t read the book, it’s considered a classic. I have a bit of an issue w ith constantly rewriting, rehashing, and reimagining classics, but that’s a whole other question.

I also think that we have to be aware that as English speakers, our view of literature can be narrow. I was reading something about translated works, but most of what I see considered as classics are American, British, Russian, and parts of Europe. I am curious to know how much literature is out there from the same time as Jane Austen and Charles Dickens that hasn’t been translated because publishers and people aren’t seeing value in these works.

For example, when I was in college, I read a lot of Gothic fiction, and one of the books I looked to was Valerie and Her Week of Wonders, not a well-known book, but also not terribly hard to find. When I had to analyze it through and pull from some critical sources, I couldn’t find any despite the book being written in 1935 in Czechoslavakia, and not being published until 1945! The book was adapted into a movie in the Czech Republic, but we couldn’t turn up anything about the book.

I’m not sure this book is a “classic,” but clearly it had moved enough people in the Czech Republic for a movie to be made, and I think that these translated works can help us inform our world view and help us see there are people just like us who dream, and think in these complex way that manifest as litearture.

3. What has been your favorite experience blogging so far?

I feel like blogging can be very solitary because I spend most of my time at my computer writing, but I have really enjoyed getting to know different people from all across the world and sharing in a love of literature. It’s opened my eyes to how fortunate I am to live where I am, have a bookstore nearby, and be able to access a wide variety of literature at a whim.

For the blog itself, I’ve had some great experiences with responses to my Book Style features. One of my first jobs after I got out of college was writing blurbs for a fashion website. It meant that I spent a lot of time looking at pretty things, but at the same time I was also knitting a lot, and that meant that I was paying attention to things like lines and proporitons and color, and  it started leaching into my blog posts with The Weird Sisters by Eleanor Brown being my first attempt at this experiment.

I also sometimes tend to dress in code, so the feature became a game to see how many cohesive outfits I could put together that symbolized the contents of the book. One of my favorite experiences with this, was when I styled Code Name Verity by Elizabeth Wein. Wein saw my tweet about the outfit and she loved the concept of how I wove in parts of the story into a 1940s inspired look.

My Nominees

Howlin Books Darque @ Darque The Dreamer Alex @ Whimsy Pages Sydney @ Fire and Rain Books Naty @ Naty’s Bookshelf Annike and Zoë @ Twin Tales Sarah @ Between the Pages Celeste @ Inked Books Kristin @ Kristen Kraves Books Azia @ The Uncharted Word Ayunda @ Tea & Paperbacks Mikaela @ The Well-Thumbed Reader Mallory @ She Is Bookish

Questions for My Nominees

1. Do you listen to audiobooks and what do you look for when selecting one? 2. If you could be any character from a book, movie, musical, or television show, what would it be? (Bonus imaginary points if you select one character from each of the named genres or find another genre!) 3. If you could take a one-way trip to any time period, where would you go and what would you do when you got there?

That’s it for this award! Thank you so much to Holly once again for nominating me! What did you guys think of my answers? Let me know in the comments below! 

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The Unique Blogger Award I am accepting the Unique Blogger Award from Holly @ Nut Free Nerd. If you haven't checked out Holly's blog, you should, she posts amazing discussions and oftentimes her discussions end up in my…