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snapeaddict · 11 days

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A teacher's trick

For @mmad-lover <3

"I must say, I was quite surprised. The level of precision was that of a third-year; and it was brewed by an average student at best, Miss Ladislaw. Clearly, the discussion we had two weeks ago made a lasting impression. The girl has potential, and it pains me to admit it as I usually have a keen nose for those students with probable skills - I shall keep a close eye on her."

Minerva smirked slightly, although her expression also had something of that motherly fondness one finds in older people's faces as they listen to naive statements from their younger counterparts. That particular smile did not last long, however. She knew Severus would not appreciate what he would qualify as a "patronising attitude" - or what was it that he had said last time? - "ageist condescension". She had not taken it well; then Albus had looked at her with the very same expression, and told her she should know better than to lecture someone who was no longer a student. His amused eyes above the half-moon glasses, the slightly raised eyebrows... yes, Severus might have had a point after all. He was 24 already...

"And what is it that you told Miss Ladislaw two weeks ago?" she asked, her tone as neutral as could be.

The Potions Master slightly shrugged his shoulders.

"Merely that I thought she could achieve a satisfactory grade if she applied herself, and that her needing to work harder than some of her classmates for the same results should not hinder her from trying."

Minerva smiled again, then immediately took a sip from her teacup to hide it, pursing her lips.

"Well, it makes perfect sense." She couldn't help herself.

Severus raised an eyebrow.

"You told the girl you believed she could do well. You might as well have given that kind of student a bottle of Felix Felicis - it yields the same results."

"We are talking about a student who successfully brewed a Wiggenweld potion, not a Draught of Living Death."

"You understand my meaning."

Severus sighed, although he bowed his head slightly.

"We cannot go about telling every student such things hoping it will be a self-fulfilling prophecy. I would not have said it to half of them. If I had, it would not have been more than a white lie. All I can do is make sure they pass - I am no miracle worker."

"Oh, I don't know. It seems to be exactly what those new educative methods are about... you know, from the last board meeting. I thought..." She stared at him, then looked away, lowering her eyes. "I thought I could certainly incorporate some of them into my teaching. Be a bit more mindful. I am rather old-school, I'm afraid."

Severus kept looking at her. Then he simply replied, well after she had averted her gaze:

"We cannot be parents, Professor."

Minerva wondered if his momentary defeated expression had more to do with the immensity of the task at hand - to work at Hogwarts, one had better not gauge the assignment too closely - or with his own mixed feelings towards teaching. She thought it a little paradoxical how unforgiving he was with regard to academics, while he would go out of his way to try and fix things he could never fix, like broken homes and intra-student hierarchy. He was, it had to be said, an unforgiving teacher and a surprisingly supportive Head of House; Albus would certainly provide a satisfactory analysis for such behaviour, although a little too Lacanian to her liking.

She poured him another cup of tea, which he accepted with a slightly embarrassed nod of the head. The friendliness between them was new and ever fragile. In its present state, it was a succession of extended hands quickly taken away when glares of suspicion, or the occasional snide remark, emerged again.

But she was trying, truly. This evening, she had originally planned, was to further their mutually beneficial relationship.

"You should not be so reluctant to make use of that Pygmalion effect, you know, Severus. It did yield great results with you."

He stared at her, looking genuinely surprised.

"With me?" he repeated, the intonation quite unlike him.

"If you recall, you were not very fond of Transfiguration as a boy."

"I shall make no comment on the subject."

His voice was rather cold.

"You need not justify yourself", Minerva replied gently. This time, she held his gaze. "I know you had your reasons, all of them justified."

You did not feel safe, she wanted to add, but she said nothing. As usual, another thought rushed to complete the former - does that justify anything?

She knew he would never claim that it did; although they had never brushed the subject, Albus had made no indication that the boy made any connection at all between the bullying, and his joining You-Know-Who. No, it was her; she made a connection. She saw a pattern, some kind of single path he was made to follow, perhaps a personal failure. It was in her nature to self-scrutinise when and only when she formed a bound - empathy enabled introspection as readily as dislike blinded her to any conclusions she might have previously drawn.

She was startled when he spoke:

"Not all of them, no."

She looked at him confusedly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Not all my reasons for disliking Transfiguration were sound", Severus elaborated, smirking slightly.

She stared at him for a second. It was as if he had guessed...?

"It was too much like muggle magic", he continued, purposely ignoring her expression. "Put a poor rabbit in a black hat; it is transformed into a dove. The coin disappears and reappears. You pull out metres of tissue from the magician's pocket. It seemed to me this was all that this was - magic tricks."

This time, Minerva was fully shaken out of her daze. She looked frankly scandalised.

"Magic tricks!" she repeated, her right hand on her heart. "Tricks!"

Severus seemed to enjoy her half-genuine, half-theatrical display of indignation. He continued, sipping his tea with exaggerated nonchalance:

"I thought it horrendously inelegant. Turning animals into glassware while we brewed potions the colour of the starry sky... While we learnt to bottle things without essence... "

"I beg your pardon, no matter how you put it, it still is soup you are making down there", she cut sharply.

The Slytherin narrowed his eyes. "Now, Professor, you do not want me as your enemy", he said slowly, putting down his cup in the middle of the English porcelain before him.

"Oh, but I do", Minerva replied in a syrupy tone. She put down her own cup with every bit of nonchalance he had just displayed. "Potions are just large soups. That is, boiling water with things you put inside of it."

"Transfiguration is but a distraction for children at a garden birthday party."

"... While their parents bake the birthday cake by throwing ingredients into a big bowl in the right order, which is what you do, if I am not mistaken."

Severus raised his eyebrows, now looking amused and somewhat surprised. He thought of a few bitting comebacks - some that he would not have shied away from using a few years later - but hesitated for a second. This was, after all, still his former professor...

"Well, Severus? I am sure you of all people have a witty reply to offer. You are a man of many talents."

This was enough to stimulate a formidable combination of those replies he was pondering upon - something to do with Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, its first principle, the impossibility of conjuring up food, the birthday cake, screaming children, ethical considerations about vanishing said children, and a muffling draught. He was about to speak; then, Minerva's words reached him fully. "You are a man of many talents."

He closed his mouth, smiled slightly, then nodded, all without a word.

You are a boy of many talents, Severus. Be sure to remember this next class.

"Pygmalion effect", Minerva said, leaning back in her seat. She clasped her fingers, smiling pensively. "You did so well that next Monday. You transformed that match into such a beautiful flower - truly the most remarkable one I had ever seen. I brought it to Pomona, I remember. She said it looked like a Lotus, Bleeding Heart, and Edelweiss had been bred together; it did not exist. It was a pure product of your imagination."

Severus frowned, although more from concentration than annoyance.

"I barely remember".

"You got an O. I cannot tell you how frustrated I was that you only got an E for your O.W.Ls. The only one! Nine 'Outstandings' in all other subjects!"

Severus gave her an ironic look.

"I am sorry to have disappointed".

She rolled her eyes. "Do not put words into my mouth. Look", she added, getting up and circumventing her armchair, "I even took a picture."

She pulled out a drawer from the nearby buffet, then searched through its content for a few seconds, smoothly retrieving a mid-size, cardboard-like paper which she handed to him. Carefully, Severus lowered it down on his knees.

On the top right corner, in green ink, the words "Mr Snape - 1972" were written in the neat, strict handwriting that he had known since his first year, although usually in red. Somewhat clumsily this time - for whatever reason - he turned the paper over. It was, indeed, a picture: that of the flower he vaguely remembered, but now could study plainly, with its long petals and queer tear-shaped extensions right at their extremities. It looked more alien than beautiful, but that was not what his mind was occupied with. Rather, his black eyes scrutinised the background in the picture, clearly that of Minerva's personal desk, which had not changed much since then. His eyes went from the picture to the desk, dimly lit by a few candles at this time of the evening.

"I wish it could have lasted longer", Minerva said softly, still standing by his side. She had followed his gaze. "It is one of the tragedies of transfiguration - nothing lasts forever."

For a few moments, Severus could not speak. Minerva put a hand on the back of his armchair, looking at him expectantly.

With difficulty, he gathered himself, and finally cleared his throat.

"I was merely thinking... thinking that if you were to cast a combination of Epoximise and Orchideous spells, and I to brew an Elixir and Revigorating Draught, all of this put to use at regular intervals - it could potentially keep such a flower intact."

Minerva raised her eyebrows, her interest fully sparked. She turned around, searched through the buffet drawer once more, and placed a match in front of him. Her wand was out.

"Brilliant, Severus. What do you say I perform some tricks, and you bring over some soup, so that I can give you another O?

#love you my friend #some early sweet moments between the two of them #severus snape #pro snape #minerva mcgonagall #snape fandom

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a-star-that-burns-brightly · 3 months

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The scene where Xander stabs Teruko is like, hands down one of my favorite scenes in the entire series so far. Can I like, talk about that for a bit? It is genuinely such a god-tier setup for not only the themes of trust and deception in DRDT, but how it sets up one of my favorite things about the writing of DRDT as a whole. That is: how painfully aware DT-Dev is of how the standard Danganronpa tropes affect how us as audience members and fans (former or otherwise) of the canon series read and interact with fangans.

lets play spot the komaeda

()()()()() is like the byakuya/nagito/kokichi of the cast

I just hope ()()()()()() doesn't go crazy and kill in chapter 3. that would be way too predictable

()()()()() will obviously die in chapter 5

I think this scene in the LGI MV is the most upfront example of this (and though I won't get too into it because this post isn't about the David MV, I do think it's particularly interesting to note that this scene is in David's MV. Y'know, the liar character. The character that is known to put on a metaphorical mask to hide parts of himself.) And what I love so much about this is that DT-Dev uses these preconceived notions we've gained from our experience with the canon games, and uses that experience to enhance the themes of distrust and deception that are so prevalent in DRDT's story. Enter: Our lovely british boy.

this picture choice has nothing to do with the analysis by the way, I just think it's cute :) Xander is set up throughout the prologue and the first half of CH1 as Teruko's support character, presenting a very similar role to Sayaka Maizono from the first DR game, or Kaito Momota from NDRV3. Kind, upbeat, and supportive, so much so that David basically praises him for it

David: You're always full of energy and bravery to achieve your goals, no matter what they are. Yet at the same time, you're a compassionate person who takes the time to help others.

At the same time, he is by far the most mysterious character at this point of the story, due in part to his missing eye and the knowledge that it was uninjured before the events of the death game. This factor of early-game mystery also brings up some parallels between Xander and characters like Ultimate Impostor and Rantaro Amami. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't think anyone was expecting Xander to survive. Given the similarities he shares with first victims of the first game I'm sure a lot of people suspected he would be the first victim of DRDT, and if not that, most likely die in Chapter 5 due to canon danganronpa's self-fulfilling prophecy of killing off the support characters in the fifth case (Chiaki, Kaito, and Kyoko if we're counting DR1's bad ending.) And this is the thing that really makes me go insane. The way DT-Dev subverts these tropes that we've grown accustomed to is by taking them and spinning them on their head. Usually giving us the same, or a similar ending to these tropes, but twisting the execution in ways that leave us surprised and second-guessing what we know. But DRDT doesn't do this immediately. In fact, the first ten episodes of the series follow a very similar formula to the danganronpa games, even having a very similar motive to the first chapter of DR1 in the form of loved ones being threatened. That is, until the end of CH1-5, in which you are hit with this.

Xander: Sorry for this.

This scene makes me go insane. Apart from being wonderfully animated, executed, and amazing for both Teruko and Xander's arcs, it is also the first clue to us as an audience that this is not an ordinary fangan, and that fully putting our trust in the knowledge we have from the canon danganronpa games is a mistake. Because that knowledge will be used to deceive us when we least expect it to. In simpler terms: All that glitters is not gold - not everything is as it seems.

#I'm somewhat afraid that this post comes across as a high schooler saying the same things over and over again to reach a word limit #but I hope I managed to convey why this scene is one of my favorites in the series and what I think it's meant to indicate to the audience #{🍀It is an equal failing to trust everybody and to trust no one at all. and to trust no one at all.🌟}#~💫 a constellation!💫~#danganronpa despair time #drdt #xander matthews #drdt xander #teruko tawaki #drdt teruko

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susiephone · 21 days

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the internet's lack of nuance in general is always annoying but one thing i see come up over and over again is people refusing the acknowledge that book piracy is different than pirating tv or movies. and it is. it absolutely is.

unlike tv or movies, where, with some exceptions, everyone gets paid an agreed upon amount for their work, regardless of how much money the end product makes, authors make royalties- meaning how much they make is completely dependent on how many copies sell. some authors get an advance, which is a flat fee you get no matter what, but you don't start making royalties until you "earn out" your advance - so if i get an advance of, say, $10,000, i don't get any royalties for my book until it's sold enough copies to make $10,000 in royalties and paid the publisher back for the advance. most books never get that far. and $10,000 is not a number to sneeze at, but when you consider that books can take months to years to write, plus editing time, plus marketing (because 95% of that responsibility falls on the author unless you are extremely lucky) - when you break it down to how much money you're making for every hour of work you put into a book, it's really not a living wage, unless you're one of the lucky few who sells a lot of copies consistently, and/or gets large enough advances that you can live on it for a year or two while you write your next book.

i've seen some well-meaning people say that pirating from indie authors is wrong because they don't have the support or resources of a publishing house, and often don't sell a lot of copies at all - which is true. but i think a lot of people don't fully realize that most authors who are traditionally published, even ones who have had overall positive experiences with their publishers, don't usually make that much either. like i said, most people never earn out their advance, and most authors have to handle marketing mostly themselves - the books everyone's talking about, most of them probably got a big marketing push from the publisher with more money behind it. which isn't a dig at those books; publishers put money behind projects they think will make money, often because those books are good! but it is a self-fulfilling prophecy, and the books that get covered by every reviewer, get goodreads banner ads, get quotes from famous authors, end up in subscription boxes? very much the exception, and that's because the publisher can't afford to do that for every book. obviously sometimes there's an underdog, a book that didn't get a big marketing push but gets great word-of-mouth and grows that way, but if you're trying to make a living writing, you have to work for that to happen.

so with all that in mind, it really grinds my gears to see authors who say, "hey, book piracy significantly hurts my income" being called greedy, selfish, or "scabs".

i think some people think, "wow, you have a publishing deal from a big 5 publisher with a five-figure advance, and you still want more money? how greedy!" because they don't fully realize how the math actually works out for most authors.

like, pedro pascal is getting his fat paycheck no matter how many people pirate the mandalorian. no one working on dear evan hansen lost a dime because of the bootleg recordings floating around. and for the big new york times bestselling authors? yeah, most of them probably won't be hurt by people pirating their book instead of buying it. almost certainly stephen king is not going to notice if a few thousand people download an illegal pdf of the shining. but most authors, it does have an impact.

obviously, there is some nuance here - not everyone can afford books to read, and not everyone can access a library. and obviously if a book is out of print, that's a different discussion entirely. but "it's fine to pirate books because piracy is always ethical and victimless and authors who are against it are just scabs who hate poor people" doesn't really hold water for me. authors are not the bad guy for wanting to be compensated for their labor, and while it's not the reader's fault the royalties system doesn't let most authors make a good living at it, it's also not the author's fault.

if you want free books that don't screw the author over, advocate for more libraries with more funding! most libraries will also take requests for books to purchase for their collection, and, at least in the USA, "interlibrary loans" will let them temporarily borrow a book from another library system if someone wants it. see if your library is part of libby and hoopla, and if they're not, suggest they join. if you have a little extra money but can't afford new books, thriftbooks is a great place for cheap used books.

like i said, i am not saying everyone who ever pirated a book is a bad person, or that there's never a justifiable reason. i just wanted to introduce more nuance into the conversation.

#writing #books #libraries #public libraries #support libraries

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ya-bug-boy · 5 months

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Hello! Hope your days going well!

Can we get the reader rescuing the submas twins who where kidnapped by Team Plasma? And can you have the reader fighting the grunts with just they're bare hands? No Pokemon just throwing hands and absolutely beating the asses of both grunts and Pokemon. ✨Hisui style✨ hope this makes sense! Lol

Submas x Fighter Reader: Reader gets kidnapped by Team Plasma

Though the twins are expert battlers, you're a little more mundane compared to them.

You really only have a few pokemon, but they're your babies. You battle occasionally but you don't intend to be an expert in it. You have your own career that you enjoy, after having worked hard in school to earn certificates and degrees. (One of them so happens to be a perfect shiny joltik. Emmet wishes you'd train it more so he can battle them.)

Though the twins usually gravitate strong trainers when it came to sharing partners, they do like how gentle and serene you are. You have a very nurturing nature towards them and their pokemon, ensuring everyone's good health and emotional support. You provide the twins with a comfort they longed for years, they are definitely making every best effort possible to ensure this relationship lasts forever.

Since you've been with the twins for a while, you got acquainted with their employees on the battle trains as well. Everyone knows who you are, considering you are technically dating two of Unova's most sought after celebrities. The twins naturally have concerns over your safety and try to insist you take one of their reserve team members with you, for the moments you're away from them. Especially when Team Plasma shows its dirty influence again.

You reassure them that you're fine, giving them both a kiss before you board your next train.

But eventually, the twins' biggest fear comes true when they hear through the radio that you're being attacked by Team Plasma.

They swiftly ignore their duties as Subway Bosses, boarding the next train that would take them to the station you were heading. Emmet is rambling about how worried he is, about making Team Plasma pay for this, and constantly asking Ingo if he thinks you're alright. Ingo can't say much, not wanting to give a self fulfilling prophecy.

When the train boards, they run. They run as fast as their legs can take them, only to stand baffled by what they saw next.

They saw you physically fighting pokemon. Your slow and gentle nature wasn't seen at all in this moment, as you relentlessly fight your way to victory.

But when the twins comes to their senses, they throw out their own pokemon to join the battle. Yelling at you to come back over to them. But instead you run up to the Team Plasma members and knock them out, one by one, in a single attack.

Ingo and Emmet catch on to what you're doing and swiftly take down their opponent's pokemon, everyone is subdued and swiftly detained. Bystanders cheer in your victories.

When the enemy is taken away by police, Emmet runs up to you and tackle hugs you. He was just so worried! He almost starts crying about how worried he was, clinging onto your body.

Ingo is next to hug you, but quickly takes you to private office space. He tends to your cuts and bruises there.

They ask you how you learned to fight like that. Prior to moving to Unova, it so turns out that you were a former pro cage fighter. Their jaws drop at this. They don't believe you at first. You literally have to show them pictures of you, of who you were five years ago prior to meeting them.

Ingo and Emmet don't know where to begin with you. First they praise you, then lecture you, and then just... they hold you close. They were so worried. They love you so much.

You stay in that moment, your caring nurturing side of you coming out to comfort them. To ease their worries, you agree to training your pokemon and taking one of their reserve members. This relieves them immensely.

#pokemon ingo x reader #pokemon emmet x reader #gn reader #emmet x reader #ingo x reader #submas x reader #my writing #anon asks

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ruexoconnor · 5 months

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@exitiumstarters open to all.

Ruby was working the carnival stand. Palm readings, crystal balls, tarot cards, the whole charade. And while he was well versed in such practices, nothing could tell him quite as much about the person as a simple handshake. Psychic powers, for him at least, worked best through touch. -- Either way, most truths were dull and most futures uneventful and he found himself recently, more often than not, telling people white little lies. Perhaps if he put ideas in their head about a big travel, a great job and so forth, they'd come to adopt it as a sort-of self-fulfilling prophecy. Future was not easily changed but, it took into account suggestions. -- Now he decided it was time for a well-deserved break. Using his powers for so long usually took its toll and he needed some food and a cigarette. "Sorry --" he'll say without so much as looking up at the visitor. "Break time. I'll be back in half an hour...."

#exitium.starter #exitium.event003 #// feel free to assume connections please <333

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fizzingwizard · 1 year

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Randomly visited reddit and saw this:

My first thought: it's an incel pretending to be a woman, because what modern woman thinks she's spoiled milk a 30??? (Aside from also trashing her girl friends - girl, get better friends!) But their profile doesn't seem weird in any way, so, I guess there are some people out there who really somehow believe youth ends at 29. Even some who have aged past it.

It's not even true that all 30 year olds are less beautiful than they were at 20. People age in different ways at at different rates: yeah, your likelihood of getting wrinkles and gray hairs is only ever going to go up. But some people don't have their style figured out in their twenties - some people turn thirty and freaking bloom. And you can't call that a late bloomer. 40 isn't a late bloomer either! 20 is nice but it's not the heaven on earth it's cracked up to be, and 30 is just getting started.

Idk about the rest of you but you know those posts about how embarrassing it is to look back on 14? Yeah, related to those when I was 20. Now I've passed the big 3-0, and guess what - I think 20 year old me was so silly lol. So insecure, so afraid to make mistakes, so resistant to change. I enjoyed my twenties, but my early thirties have so far been way better: I'm more confident, less self-involved, and I find happiness so much more easily than I did back when I thought everything I did had to matter So Damn Much. And if you think that doesn't relate to being attractive: confidence is 90% of it. Just walk up and smile. A confident, happy person always attracts others even if they're just average-looking.

Also for people who like men, don't forget: men in their 30s usually aren't quite the energizer bunnies they were in their 20s when it comes to ~sexy times~ The 20-year-old stud who insisted he could go for a roll multiple times a day, every day, is probably much less gung ho at 30. And also more forward-thinking, and less amaaaaazed by omg boobies!!! When you're young, half the excitement is just how new everything is. It gets less intense, thank goodness. (But it's still hot!)

This post just totally rubbed me the wrong way. It read as a still young woman anxiously wringing her hands in apology for having the audacity to be single at... 30?? And apparently not trusting women to have good advice about dating at 30 (so no point in me responding to her, lol), but perfectly comfortable kissing up to incel mindsets such as "women past 25 should accept that they're sloppy seconds" etc. "Value as a partner" do you have intrinsic worth as a human being?? Yes??? Then your value does NOT degrade. Yeah, you might have gray hair, the horror, so unsexy (I've had very visible grays since I was 23 and been dyeing since 26 lmao). Doesn't mean you're less hot than some 20 year old who doesn't know what she's doing. Doesn't mean it'll be at all hard to find a partner who will love you warts and all. Do you have this same expectation of men? Are you gonna start dating a 30 year old dude and then complain that he gets tired more quickly than a 20 year old would?? Is he less sexy just because he doesn't party all night and drink twice his weight without effect? Overrated overrated overrated!

My parents divorced in their 60s. My mom's got a new boyfriend who takes her dancing under the full moon. They're living their best lives way past their so-called "prime" and no, that is not rare - it's just a choice. If you view yourself as having some expiration date, you're not gonna do anything to improve your happiness once you're past it. Don't let incels or misogyny or whatever convince you your perfectly wholesome milk has gone bad, because that is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

ETA: Well, while I was working this got 150 notes, and although that's barely a drop in the bucket, it's still a lot more than my rants usually get (about 2 lol). So I just want to clarify a couple things so I stop getting comments about them.

This post was from the askmen subreddit. I left that out, feeling "reddit" was context enough, but I guess the implications may not have been obvious, especially to tumblr users who don't also use reddit. Askmen isn't a horrible place (a number of the responders pointed out why they prefer older women to younger ones), but many of its members have a pretty incel-adjacent vibe. Plus there are a number of women (real or not) who post there, many of whom have a similar brown-nosey "unlike those radical feminists, I'm a woman who knows her place" attitude.

It's fine to suggest the OP may have internalized misogyny from being abused - but it's not a given, as nothing in the post is a definite indication of abuse by itself. Big kudos for the compassion - just keep in mind that my response was about general attitudes towards dating post-twenties and not about abuse victims.

To the person who thinks a relationship of six years makes a difference somehow?: You seem to have interpreted my post as an attack on people who feel insecure about returning to dating after a breakup. But I think it's clearly nothing to do with that. Of course it is natural to have anxieties about being single after so long, but nowhere in this post was that denied or mocked. Whether you've been together one year or six, this post would always be weird - those natural anxieties don't make misogynistic mindsets about decrepit 30-year-old women any less gross. If you had decided to write a reaction to the OP's post, perhaps you would have chosen to center it on the effects of coming off a long term relationship, and I'm sure it'd be insightful. However, I am not you, and I chose to react to the attitudes around aging in relationships reflected in the post.

#rant

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tangledinink · 1 year

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

It was another one of those.

Those little loops he got into sometimes.

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

But that was when it was good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The point was, it sucked.

He didn’t like it.

It was stressful, and it was unpleasant.

And, quite frankly? It was scary.

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

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

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

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

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

This was his fourth night.

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

That was when Loop Leo truly came out to play.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe he’s dying.

Maybe he’s dying right now.

Maybe he just stopped breathing, just now.

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

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

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

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

Do something!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Leo? What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

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

“... Why would I be dead?”

“I-- I couldn’t see you breathing!!!”

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

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

He had been so fucking scared that he was dead.

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

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

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

“Y-yeahhhhhh…”

“Are you in a Loop?”

“Mm-hmm…”

“How many days has it been?”

“Foouuuurrrrrrrrr…”

“Jesus christ, Nardo.”

“I love y-youuuu…”

“Why didn’t you ask Dad for meds?”

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

“Oh my god. You’re so stupid…”

“Y-yeah…”

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

“Mmm…”

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

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

“Lee, come on--”

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

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

“Noooo…”

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

“I don’t wanna take meds…”

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

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

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

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

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

Donnie sighed, his shoulders slumping with quiet exasperation.

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

“Dee…”

“Leo.”

“I don’t wanna.”

Donnie quirked a brow.

“Okay, and?”

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

Donnie absolutely rolled his eyes at him.

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

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

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

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

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

And would you believe it?

They were fine.

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

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

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

“I swear I’ve never been to Dallas…”

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

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

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

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

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

“Father, Leo needs his trazodone.”

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

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

“Sit.”

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

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

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

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

One. There was one of them.

And he was pretty confident it was trazodone.

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

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

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

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

He supposed that checked out.

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

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

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

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

And so Leo settled in, too.

And he waited.

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you asleep yet?”

Leo gaped for a moment.

“... You’re not?”

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

“... You don’t have to--”

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

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

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

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

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

Leo laughed a tiny bit.

He closed his eyes.

Iron Man. Jean Grey. Kitty Pryde. Lightspeed.

… Moon Knight… Nightcrawler…

…Obelix…

…

… Professor X…

…

… … …

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sirfrogsworth · 7 months

Text

Thoughts on Live Action Avatar: TLA

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

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

Initially, things were rough... buddy.

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

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

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

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

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

It won me over.

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

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

Things I really liked...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Things I didn't care for...

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

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

Things I hated...

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

In conclusion...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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