#she sees things like gods through that lens mostly

[wildstar25]

MiqoMarch Day 26 - Faith

Though she is constantly reminded of her status being blessed by the goddess- Hydaelyn's chosen, as they called it - Arsay maintained a reluctance to allow her fate to be subject to the will of any higher being. Instead it is her friends, her family, whom Arsay puts her absolute faith in. Their bond is the greater gift by far.

[macdenlover]

i’ve been thinking a lot about dee’s sexuality compared to dennis’s and I wanted to reblog this post with my thoughts but it would end up a being like a mile long so I’m dumping it here!

lesbian dee is probably one of the more “far fetched” headcanons i have (in the sense that dee hasn’t canonically shown interest in women at all) but i think it’s still a fun idea to explore because it doesn’t really take away from or water down anything previously established about her in canon and narratively it still draws from the intention of her character.

the crux of dennis’s and dee’s characters boil down to chasing a sense of power to repair the damage left from the emotional neglect in their childhoods— dennis obsessively trying to reach a distorted internal image of perfection, and dee constantly seeking out some sort of external approval. her relationships with men have always been shallow and fruitless, mostly just a series of one night stands to stroke her ego, kind of like dennis. the difference is dennis’s string of one night stands are way more about the journey than the destination than they are for dee. he gets off on the foreplay and the success of his own slimy methodology— it’s a different itch to scratch than the validation that dee craves, this lifelong desire to be wanted by someone even if she doesn’t want them back.

it’s also impossible to ignore the gender roles of it all. dennis and dee parallel each other a whole lot but it can never really be a 1 for 1 comparison. there is no direct parallel you can make for a character like dee, in her circumstance as a woman constantly surrounded by men who’ve been belittling her her entire life, who then desperately winds up craving approval from men in the form of sex. I think viewing it through the lens of comphet adds suchhh an interesting layer to it. would i love to see her canonically hook up with a womanthe waitress? of course. is it ever gonna happen on the show? probably not god please please please please i’m going to beg 8000 times.

now as for dennis. i firmly hc that he’s bi/unlabeled (in the sense that he’s bisexual but he thinks he’s too special to call himself bisexual).

he’s always had a more complicated relationship with queerness as an identity than he has with homosexuality itself, considering how weird he was about mac coming out, and the big speech he gave above mac’s obsession with labels. but he seems to be perfectly fine openly admitting he has a system to attract men and how much he loves putting his balls in dudes’ mouths. he’s not in denial about his attraction to men the way mac was, and i don’t think he’s had any reason to pretend to be sexually attracted to women if he wasn’t. he doesn’t value the respect of women enough for that, he’s really just in it for the puss.

speaking of which, something i think a lot of people forget about/ignore when analyzing these characters is the fact that they’re meant to be puppets for the show’s satire. the choices they make with these characters is meant to say something about the world, so i think viewing a character who’s primary traits surround his predatory behavior toward women as secretly gay just ends up saying the wrong thing?

ultimately it boils down to how much of the show’s intentions you factor into the way you see these characters but my general rule of thumb has been having as much fun as i can without disrupting the canon :)

[mahiiragi]

I find it so funny when people say zutara fans are delusional or that Zuko was never an option for Katara and that kataang was always going happen... I mean, yes, kataang was probably always going to happen at the end of the day since Aang is Bryke's favorite and they have a "soft spot" for kataang (do you ever wonder why he resembles Michael DiMartimo in The Leyend of Korra? And by "soft spot" I mean they are die hard fans more immature than Aang seeing the Boy in the Iceberg, they got to the point of making a whole ass video mocking the ship and the children who liked it out of spite because zutara had fans in the first place and some kids didn't want Aang to end up with his "forever girl") and they have the final word for what goes in the avatar franchise.

Subparagraph to say that everytime I remember that Bryke made a video mocking zutara fans I lose my mind. What are you, grown ass adults, doing ridiculizing kids for a fictional couple that wasn't even canon and was not ever going to be canon because you, creator of the show, had the power to decide that? Don't you see how stupid and frankly evil and mean-spirited it is? Focus on developing your ship so it can have more fans instead; show us how Katara sees him as an equal, someone who she can share her burdens with, how she sees him through pink lens, how she decides to be with Aang because she chose it instead of just some "destiny" bullshit, how he challenges her and promotes her growth, how he supports her in her sorrows instead of being mostly the other way around, how Katara doesn't stop being Katara after she got together with Aang, HOW DID SHE LET AANG NEGLECT HER KIDS??

But people can't say zutarians are just "seeing things" or that it undeniably was never an option when there is a lot of official content implying Zuko and Katara as a couple and it was discussed in the very own writers room if Katara would end up with Zuko or Aang because many writers liked zutara (probably the reason we have too many winks at the ship in the show, books and promotional material in the first place) and it doesn't say anything to you that half of the fandom likes the "ship with no content" or the one that was created "out of the air" more than the one we see since ep 1??? Hint: it isn't because people are delusional, as Bryke said that one time: "Zuko and Katara may have shared some sparks"

Even my fifty-one year old mother likes zutara I swear to god. She saw both atla and tlok and thought zutara had a lot of potential and preferred kataang as a strong platonic relationship.

[jennamoran]

The Far Roofs

cover art by Isip Xin

Hi!

Today I'm going to talk a little bit more about my forthcoming RPG, the Far Roofs. I've previously talked about

general principles,

the rats,

and the campaign.

Today, I want to talk about the Mysteries.

Up on the distant roofs, you see, the rats hunt, and are hunted, by these ... things. These vast, impossible god-monsters.

The Mysteries.

These things that are as much experiences as beings.

I like to anchor them to real-world myths. That's mostly an authorial choice, rather than something intrinsic to their character---

I think if I named them all in some made-up language of my own, called them all things like, I dunno, Alolitha or Eidumir, then they'd come across as cooler ... but also harder to get a handle on.

You'd have to be immersed in the setting to really get what they're about.

So I give most of them a byname that's more accessible. Something like Harpy, Hoop Snake, Lennan-Shee---whatever---so that you can tap into your memories or impressions of real-world mythology and the work of fantasists and cultural tropes and monster manuals from other games and the stories of your childhood and all of that.

Even still, they are vast things.

You might be forgiven, if I just named them without that prelude, in thinking that they seem vast to the rats because the rats are small. Thinking, perhaps, that you could fight off a Mystery like Jackalope, say, or Hippocampus ... if you were lucky, or had a gun ... whereas a rat might have a harder time.

The thing is, to walk in the realm of myth is to lose your grounding in the world. On the Far Roofs you can't rely on your ability to frame a story or a conflict through a rationalistic lens. The Mysteries are not physical creatures of a certain size, but rather the animating spirits of dramatic, life-changing experiences. Like the starring monster of a horror movie, or divinity that visits you in dreams, it's loosely possible to pay them off, or punch them out, or argue with them about Naruto, or whatever, but you can't really extrapolate out from that to resolve whatever underlying problem they can be.

Jackalope isn't a thing you shoot, or whatever:

It's a thing you encounter on dark nights, sometimes, and can't ever really prove you've seen. Maybe you don't even encounter it, just ... find its tracks.

It's not a conflict you can easily rewrite.

As for something like Harpy ... she is dead, the rats have killed her ... and even dead and disembodied your fate is very likely in her hands.

.

This kind of thing is why the rats are valid protagonists in this world:

In the face of the Mysteries, there's not much difference between the standings of a human and a rat. We are all such small, imperiled things.

.

Each of the Mysteries is tied to some internal state. Some mood or emotion or whatever. It's not clear how much that's true, and how much that's a game convention, and how much that's how the rats, who you're going to be getting most of your basic information from, understand them.

... but it's at least a little bit "all three."

This is, fundamentally, an authorial choice. The Far Roofs is an expressionist game. It's a game about emotion bleeding out into reality, about moods and experiences taking on physical or quasi-physical form in the world or narrative around us. So that's part of why I made the Mysteries like this.

The other part is, if you want to make up your own Mysteries, it helps a lot that you can start with an internal state.

Deciding to make up "Centaur" as a Mystery is kind of boring. I think.

Deciding to make a Mystery named Centaur that is on some level "about" mind-body duality or immersion in the body, or wisdom, or the post-exercise endorphin mood, or having ADHD ("I'm stuck on a horse that's going where it wants"), or whatever ... that's a bit more interesting.

Starting with a mood you want to talk about, I think, like ... Sorrow ... and figuring out what mythical entity best matches that (I'd go with Banshee), and then figuring out how its stories work from there:

I think that's the most interesting option of them all.

.

I do give some of them fancy made-up names, to be clear. I'm not opposed to having an Alolitha or Eidumir or whatever around! But that's not the default or primary approach.

.

In theory, the game expects you to make up most of the Mysteries you encounter.

In practice, there's a built-in campaign that features a bunch of them, so there are enough worked examples in the book that you might never have to come up with one from scratch:

there's solid summaries of about three dozen, plus

in-depth writeups of Goblin, Harpy, Hoop Snake, Unicorn, and four other Mysteries that map a bit less precisely to established myths.

.

There's a lot in those in-depth writeups, but my favorite parts are the pages that are just questions the GM can ask the players when that Mystery is at hand.

(Questions, sometimes statements, sometimes actions or power uses, but ... it's the questions that I love.)

I have spent the better part of a decade working on power sets for spiritual, mystical, and divine entities, and you can find some cool rules toys for the more purely mechanically minded here. I like how their game-mechanical writeups all turned out.

... but in both practice and theory, none of that is as cool to me as the list of asides and questions the GM can crib from when the Mystery is involved. Simple stuff like "the wind is rising" or "speak to me of solitude." More nuanced stuff like GM-as-Death playing a spade suit card and saying, "tell me of a nasty accident, and how you avoided or survived it." In every case, a bunch of options.

As a reader, I love the detailed mechanics more. As a reader, I don't really care that much about the actual how of how the Mysteries do things but I love that there is a how. It tickles an important part of my brain, deep down.

... but when I'm actually GMing, I love the lists of phenomena and questions so very much.

I am admittedly usually in a constant state of panic when GMing, so perhaps I get more value out of both the cue card function and the ability to hand off responsibility to the player than others would.

Perhaps.

.

If you're curious about those examples:

The wind rises when you're dealing with Harpy because a lot of her story is the story about how being on the Far Roofs is like falling, like flying, like losing the stable influence of the ground. So naturally you feel the air. You feel the motion. It arises. Naturally you become isolated, or at least experience intermittent solitude, because the ground ultimately mediates almost every social connection and interaction.

Maybe not love or skydiving teams, I guess.

When Death's presence is weighty in your life ... well, it's in your life, so you're probably not dead yet, but stuff happens! You nearly died!

I like that you don't have to think through that theory when playing with this stuff, but it's still all right there, implicit, presented in a couple of different forms.

That's what I have to say tonight!

.

From the Cutting Room Floor for this Post:

... there is still a part of my brain that loves it when you write up the power that lets the Christian God be three species of hypostasis and a single ousia, or whatever, and loves it even more when you can use the same power to combine three mechs.

I have not written up that specific power, though, to be clear, as I rarely put either Christianity or mecha in my games (albeit, see Invisible Mecha) ...

[mommyashtoreth]

I think among "trans allegory" interpretations, Crowley is more popular than Aziraphale, which is quite unfortunate, because I think Aziraphale works just as well. Crowley does, certainly, work as a trans allegory - she was once one thing (an angel) and is now something else. Aziraphale, however, is also transitioning into something other than what she once was - it even works when viewed through a lens of gender performance. Aziraphale is slowly, over thousands of years, allowing himself to become something other than what he was assigned to be by God. Part of this is, in fact, via gender performance - angels are genderless and mostly androgynous, and in his earliest appearances chronologically, Aziraphale aligns with this; the featureless white robe is basically as textbook "bland androgynous nonbinary fashion" as you can get without basically being a burlap sack. As time goes on, Aziraphale changes her presentation further and further, adopting human clothing until she is quite visually different from other angels. This is costume-based storytelling - you see less and less pure white and more brown, beige, blue, and gold, signature "Aziraphale colors" from a design perspective. I remember seeing a post a little while ago that talked about Aziraphale slowly experimenting with chosen names (like the "human" name "A.Z. Fell") rather than the name he was given by God (as opposed to Crowley, who in all versions of the text does not use his given or "true" name), and that just feels extremely transgender to me. I guess in the most literal sense, Aziraphale is transitioning to be more humanlike. Not transitioning to human, he's not human and I don't think he'd ever want to be, but he's found a middle ground, and he's far more humanlike, in appearance and behavior, than any other angel we see. Nonbinary in a system where the two genders are angel/demon and human

[toastandjamie]

You know how in a previous post I talked briefly about how Mat is subversion of masculinity? Yeah that but now I’m also going to talk about how all of that and the contradicting nature of his character can all be traced back to him being Odin. Bare with me lmao.

So let’s start with the fact that Odin as a god covers a LOT of domains, and a lot of them contradict eachother. He’s a god of war and death but he’s also a god of healing and poetry. He’s a god of wisdom and knowledge but also frenzy and bloodlust. A god of royalty favored by princes and also a good of thieves and tricksters. The Allfather indeed! Odin is a god but very importantly he’s Mortal, he’s a god of wisdom because he seeks it out, he is a surprising Human god, with complex and often selfish motivations. Which is very perfect for a character like Mat. But this post isn’t just going to be me pointing out every single thing about Odin that parallels Mat because we’d be here all day and even though I can because everytime a mythological reference appears in those books and twirl my hair and kick my feet I will refrain lol

The main focus of this post is talk about one really interesting facet of Odin’s domains and myths. And that is his connection to magic, specifically the distinctly feminine magic tradition of Seihdr(and that in of itself is a whole thing that’s makes me scream and blather in reference to wheel of time). Odin stands out as a male practitioner of Seihdr, which is traditionally considered a ‘feminine’ craft. Seidhr is a type of magic related to telling and shaping the future(so no shock Odin as the ever curious god of knowledge practiced it) but according to Snorri in the Ynglinga saga the practice of Seidhr leaves the practitioner weak and helpless thus male practitioners were considered ‘ergi’ a designation for men in Norse society who were unmanly and feminine. Odin was no exception being called ‘ergi’ by Loki in Lokasenna.

This is really interesting when we view Mat’s characterization through this lens. Specifically he’s described in relation to other more traditionally masculine characters and his relationship to the one power specifically Saidar. Long before I did any research involving Seidhr and Odin I had noted to myself that Mat would’ve had an easier time channeling Saidar vs Saidine. I’ve always felt that Mat was better at embracing and submitting to power and change than he ever was at forcing it, which of course is mostly because of his adaptability and flexibility which make him such a great general in the first place. There’s a reason Mat never got a handle of the flame and the void despite both Rand and Lan trying to teach him in books 1 and 2. Mat also acts the most like the women in the series in comparison to say Rand or Perrin. jokingly I’ve mentioned how in Shadow Rising a big plot point in Rand and Elayne’s relationship is a miscommunication because Elayne was upset Rand didn’t ask her to stay when she left for Tanchico, and Mat practically has the same exact fight with Rand over Rand not asking HIM to stay when he said he was going to leave before the battle at Cairihan. I also want to point out that in the Wheel of Time, daggers and throwing knives are mainly used by women(see, Min, Faile, Berelain, Tuon) with Mat and Thom being the only men we see using throwing knives(something something the idea that subterfuge and caution are feminine traits) while swords and axes are mainly used by men or women specifically breaking gender convention such as Cha Faile and Elayne’s Queen’s Guard. interestingly spears(Mat’s other weapon of choice) is an androgynous weapon used by both men and women(this is solely because the entire Aiel culture uses spears and will fight with them), bows are also a relatively androgynous weapon in the context of WoT used pretty universally. There’s also something to be said about how the entire subplot with Tylin puts Mat in the role of the ‘pursued’ or as Mat himself puts it ‘the woman’ where Tylin takes the commanding and dominant role in their dynamic. There’s a whole different essay to be written about Mat’s romantic relationships and the vast power dynamic disparity in them and how the relationships with Tylin and Melindra primed him for the way his dynamic with Tuon works but once again that’s a different essay.

Mat’s relationship with the one power is also really interesting, because for a non-channeler he’s pretty heavily linked with magic. He’s effected by the magic inherent in the world despite for all intensive purposes being perfectly normal to start with. The Aelfinn and the Eelfin, the fact that he’s hunted by the Gholam who was created solely to assassinate channelers. Both of his sisters being born with the spark and him marrying a woman who was trained as a sul’dam(and in a prophetic vision said woman literally collaring him after we had just been introduced to the concept of a’dams). His medallion that negates channeling, the cursed dagger and him getting the first powerwrought weapon of the series in his Ashandarei. Mat’s practically rolling in magic nonsense despite wanting nothing to do with it. Not all of this was created by the one power, but he’s still very associated with it whether he wants to be or not. It’s also probably safe to say that between his sisters and being Ta’veren it’s likely he could probably learn to channel if he wanted to, of course he never would want to learn and as I established earlier I think he’d have a hard time channeling Saidine in the first place. Trying to wrestle a force of nature using brute force isn’t exactly his forte.

There’s also another essay about Mat and Elayne’s dynamic and how I think Elayne is a Freya parallel, and how that relates to Odin and Freya being the two patron gods of Seidhr- but I digress.

[thebramblewood]

hello!! I've been quite obsessed with your stories lately (my friends r probably so sick of me posting Caleb cuntily dying onto his piano keys whenever something bad happens) but I do want to ask what was your interpretation of Morgyn like before they died because I'm quite interested from the tidbits that are already there (my friends are probably also sick of me putting feministly in front of all of Lilith's crimes. me when I feministly kill the three magic sages)

Oh my god, I'm obsessed with the idea of Caleb dying and Lilith committing crimes being memes among you and your friends. Makes me feel properly famous, lmao! I saw your tags about Lilith feministly offing the Sages the other day and cracked up.

There are a lot of gaps in Morgyn's character for me because they were never originally meant to be in the story. But then Caleb became a more important character, and then I started thinking about his past, and then I remembered the Sages were killed at one point in my legacy, and I realized it was too perfectly tragic not to use. So my interpretation of Morgyn in this story has always been filtered through the lens of their death first and foremost.

That being said, I imagine their younger self being very hesitant and cautious and perhaps a little underestimated and misunderstood. The magic they grew up around was mostly practical and unremarkable, and they didn't realize the full extent of their unique abilities until arriving in the Magic Realm to study. Under the tutelage of L. Faba especially, they grew their confidence and power and eventually joined her on the Sages Council. As a Sage, they took their responsibilities very seriously but also liked to have fun in their spare time, which the older, more "settled" Sages weren't entirely approving of. Morgyn had grown to be very free-spirited and uninhibited by this time and taught Caleb to be less neurotic and more spontaneous.

Caleb and Morgyn met at the end of the '90s and were together for a little more than a decade by the time Lilith... did what she did. I've thought a lot about how they met but haven't settled on a story that fully satisfies me. At that time, I see Caleb still being pretty standoffish and introverted, but he went out a lot more than he does now, especially to concerts. I imagine they met at a club or a bar when Morgyn was playing hooky from their Sage duties far away from the Realm. They both enjoyed being immersed in human culture because they never wanted to lose that side of themselves. Morgyn immediately saw Caleb for what he was but not in a judgmental way, which set Caleb at ease. He felt like Morgyn both understood and accepted him, which then made it easy for him to fall in love.

Another thing I haven't fully settled on is Morgyn's age. They were older than they looked because all the Sages used magic to suspend the effects of aging, but I also don't think they were as old as Caleb. I can't decide what decade they might have been born in, though. Maybe some of these blanks will be filled in eventually, but as of now I don't have any fleshed out ideas for future Morgyn flashbacks. I'd love to explore their relationship more, of course. It's just a matter of what ends up feeling like it serves the movement of the story! This reply got super long, but I hope it satisfied your curiosity. Thank you so much for being such a fan! 💜

[steddieasitgoes]

Written for @eddiemonth Day 11 Prompt: Pirate read on ao3 | link to my ao3 Eddie Month series

There are a lot of challenges that come with being a parent: dealing with tantrums, having to be responsible, cooking all the time, making friends with other parents (thank God Steve’s a people person because Eddie would rather stab himself in the eye with a fork than listen to Brenda brag about her kids — Newsflash Brenda, all our kids shit in the toilet, it’s not an accomplishment!) Fortunately, Eddie’s conquered them all, mostly. What he hasn’t conquered, though, is the biggest parenting challenge of all: saying no to their little girl.

But, like, can anyone even blame him? How is he supposed to look at Rosie with her big, brown eyes behind her purple round glasses and her lush, springy curls and tell her no? He’s not, that’s how. It’s even worse now that she’s learned how to wobble her lower lip and bat her eyelashes (Dustin and Erica are on babysitting probation for that one.)

It’s a move she’s already perfected and has been pulling all day to keep Eddie from doing any of his actual parenting duties while Steve’s held up at school in a marathon of parent-teacher conferences. But it’s fine. Better than fine if he’s straight with himself. There’s nothing Eddie loves more than some quality make-believe time with his daughter. Brings him right back to his Hellfire days. And once Eddie commits to a story, he’s in it until they reach the end (or until Rosie gets bored — whichever comes first).

He takes world-building just as seriously, which is why their living room has been transformed into a pirate ship. The long couch stands in as the main dock. An assortment of cardboard boxes from their latest Costco run stacked in a chaotic way on the front and the end, making up the stern and bow. A once-white pillowcase is now stained with purple marker — a Rosie original drawn in the middle — and hanging from the broom shoved into the couch cushions. (Steve’s not going to be happy about that one, but he’ll level with him later.)

Rosie is dressed in her favorite pirate costume. One of Steve’s button-up shirts and her favorite black leggings. Her feet (and most of her legs) are shoved into a pair of Eddie’s old black boots and the left lens in her glasses is covered in black duct tape (fuck, he hopes it doesn’t scratch them). The store-bought pirate hat disappeared weeks ago so in its place is one of Eddie’s old bandanas. Thankfully, the store-bought sword they bought her last year hasn’t gone missing (he’s pretty sure his streak of saying yes would have to end if she demanded access to the kitchen knives). Oh, yeah, and she’s refusing to answer to her name — responding to Eddie only when he refers to her as Cap’n Skittle.

“It’s time you walk the plank, traitor!” she shouts, hoisting a well-loved Garfield stuffed animal over her head. Hopping on the couch cushions, she glances at Eddie over her shoulder. “One-arm Gravy, prepare the plank.”

“Ay, Ay, captain,” Eddie says, saluting with the hand that isn’t pulled through the sleeve of his shirt and resting on his stomach. Rosie really made him commit to the whole one-arm thing, and he’s not about to suppress her creative whims.

With a careful step into the middle of the couch, Eddie reaches for one of their custom decorative pillows. It takes a few tries, but eventually, he manages to get one end of the throw pillow balanced on the edge of the couch while the rest hangs off.

“The plank is ready, Cap’n Skittle.”

“Time to meet your end, Garfield!”

Without a moment of hesitation, Rosie chucks the Garfield stuffed animal off of the couch, sending it flying across the room and into the bookshelf against the other wall. Thankfully, nothing breaks or falls over. Explaining to Steve why Rosie isn’t in bed yet is easy. Explaining how his mint condition replica of the Beamer broke, not so much.

“See you never traitor,” she cackles, far more sinister than a six-year-old should sound.

On second thought, maybe suppressing her creative whims is a good idea, Eddie thinks for a moment before shaking his head. Nah, Wayne let me do whatever I wanted, and I turned out fine.

“It’s time to celebrate!” She gathers the rest of the stuffed animal-turned-crew mates as she skips her way back to Eddie. Hoisting and swaying her sword high up in the sky in celebration.

“Not so fast,” Eddie says, shoving his arm back through the sleeve of his shirt. He peels off the paper mustache Rosie demanded he wear and yanks out a sword he’s been hiding in the waistband of his pajama pants.

Rosie screams, lowering her own sword in preparation for a duel. “Not Cap’n No Moosetach! I killed you.”

“You tried to be a hero Cap’n Skittle, but you failed to remember the most important thing about being a pirate captain,” Eddie says, voice an octave lower than usual. He takes a tentative step forward on the couch and then another and another until Rosie’s trapped between him and the armrest. He holds his sword up to her chin, not touching, but close enough for her eyes to go a little crossed as she stares at it. “We never die before we get our treasure.”

Eddie swings his sword, but Rosie’s quick, swinging hers back at him. It’s the beginning of an epic sword battle that has both of them doing the most. Rosie leaps at him, wrapping her arms and legs around his middle until they’re both toppling over onto the couch. She quickly gets to her feet, shoving her sword in Eddie’s face for a moment before he rolls off the couch and into the “waters” below.

“You’ll never get the da’blooms,” she shouts. Glancing over her shoulder at the hoard of stuffed animals on the couch, she shouts, “Man the cannons!”

Eddie barely has time to shield his head before she’s throwing pillow after pillow at him. Shouting orders left and right to her “crew mates.” Hoisting himself up, Eddie gets back on the couch and engages in another battle with Rosie. Swords clinking against each other as Eddie hums a made-up soundtrack for their battles. He gets lost in the humming and has no time to defend himself when Rosie jabs her bony elbow into his ribs.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he groans, massaging over the spot. “That hurt Rosie.”

“Who is this Rosie you speak of?” she growls, threatening him with her sword. “I don’t know any Rosies!”

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek to keep from snorting. She may not biologically be his daughter, but oh man, does she make up for it in her quirks and personalities. After all, no one commits to a fantasy role more than a Munson.

The battle continues with both of them taking turns being the winners and losers until the front door knob starts to jingle.

“Avast Ye,” Eddie says, pulling Rosie in close. “A landlubber approaches.”

“Aye,” Rosie nods. “We can take him together.”

“A truce, you say? Only if you give me half of your Doubloons.”

“I’ll give you three.”

This time, Eddie does snort, earning a fierce glare from Rosie before the front door opens. Steve steps in, looking more exhausted than ever before. His lucky striped tie is pulled loose, his blazer slung casually over his shoulder.

“Aye, it’s the wealthy merchant Sir Steven of Stevensburg.”

Despite the pure exhaustion on his face and in his bones, Steve cocks his head to the side and arches his brow. “Sir Steve of Stevensburg? That’s the best you can come up with?” He toes off his work loafers and pads his sock-covered feet further into the mess of the living room.

“Hey,” Eddie whines, voice returning to normal. “Cut me some slack; we’ve been at this for hours.”

“Shush you landlubber!” Rosie says, leaping off the couch and into Steve’s arm. “If you want our Da’blooms, you have to fight me and Cap’n No Moosetach.”

“Da’blooms? I don’t need your da’blooms.”

“Then why are you braving these here seas, Sir Steven?” Eddie asks as he steps down from the couch, eager to get his hands on his clearly exhausted boyfriend.

“Well, I am a Prince in search of a fair maiden. A princess, actually,” he says, nuzzling his face into Rosie’s neck. She squeals in delight before squirming out of his arms and dropping to the floor. “Do you know of any princesses around here?” Steve cups his hands over his eyes, turning them into binoculars, as he glances around the room.

“Me! Me!” Rosie shouts, jumping up and down. “M’a princess! The prettiest princess in all the land.”

Steve crouches down to Rosie’s height. Hands on his hips and tired eyes squinted in a focused manner as he studies her pirate costume. “Hmm, I don’t know,” he puzzles, dramatically tapping his chin.

Eddie watches Steve take on the role of a Prince. When Rosie first started getting into make-believe, Steve struggled with the “yes and-ing” that comes with improvised play. It took a while for him to come out of his shell and allow himself to actually be goofy. If Eddie ever gets his hangs on the Harringtons he swears he’s going to ring their neck for stifling Steve’s creativity. Because dammit, his Steve is creative! Weaving epic adventure stories like it is second nature. Sometimes even better than Eddie can.

Eddie absolutely adores it when Steve gets like this. When the pressures of being an adult fade away all that matters is the story and Rosie’s imagination. It totally works for him too.

“You look like a pirate to me,” Steve says, finally, before standing up to his full height as he looks down on Rosie.

“Cap’n Skittle, to be exact,” Eddie says, saddling up next to Rosie with his sword outstretched in Steve’s direction. “The most vicious pirate to ever pirate the seas.”

“No, no,” Rosie shouts, yanking the sword from Eddie’s hands and tossing it aside, “‘M Cap’n Skittle now, but if you kiss me, I’ll turn into a princess! Kiss me, you’ll see!”

There’s a beat where Eddie and Steve share a fourth-wall-breaking glance. A silent should we be worried about this? and eh, it’s probably fine in return. They’re caught up in their half-concern, half-amused state that neither one realizes Rosie is moving until it’s too late. She throws herself at Steve, scaling her way up his legs and into his arms.

“Kiss me! Kiss me! Kiss me!”

With a laugh, Steve dramatically dips Rosie in his arms before planting a kiss on her lips. He pulls away with a loud smooching sound that has Rosie giggling and then rips the bandana off of her head. “Be still, my beating heart. You are a Princess!”

“Told ya so,” Rosie says before quickly switching to her new Princess role. “Tis I Princess Buttercup and you’re Prince Peanut. Together we’re Prince and Princess Peanut Buttercup!”

Damn candy commercials, Eddie thinks, hiding a smile behind a lock of hair. Glancing at the clock, Eddie realizes it’s way past Rosie’s bedtime. A fact Steve also picks up on based on the look he’s giving Eddie. A raised brow followed by a dramatic wink. He can practically hear Steve saying, watch this — forever the expert at getting Rosie to bed.

“What say thee, Princess Buttercup? Shall we retire to our room for a royal slumber?”

“But m’not tired,” she pouts.

“Ah, but Princess Buttercup. You must sleep so tomorrow we can defeat the evil Lord Munsington.”

“Munsington? Really?” Eddie laughs, shaking his head.

“We’re not talking to you, Lord Munsington,” Rosie scolds, shooing Eddie away with her hand. “We’re going to need lots of sleep to defeat him, Prince Buttercup.”

“Well, then, we better get started,” Steve muses, carrying Rosies toward her bedroom.

Eddie doesn’t follow, letting Steve get some quality time in with Rosie before she falls asleep. Besides, Eddie’s all storied out after hours and hours of playing pirates and witches and fairy tea parties. He collapses on the couch instead, letting his own eyes shut until he hears Steve’s feet padding their way to him.

“Missed you,” Steve says, kissing the top of Eddie’s head before sinking into the couch cushion beside him. He’s already stripped out of his work clothes, clad now in a pair of worn sweatpants.

“Missed you too,” Eddie says, snuggling up to Steve’s side. His warm shirtless body feels relaxing on Eddie’s aching bones. Especially his ribs which are already bruising from Rosie’s brutal hit earlier.

“Looks like I missed a good storytelling day.”

Eddie hums. “Well, we lost the plot at the end there, but yeah, it was a good storytelling day.”

“Worth the mess of our living room?” Steve asks, glancing around at the cardboard boxes, stuffed animal graveyard, and pillows littering the floor.

“I’ll clean it up in the morning, promise,” Eddie says through a yawn. “Right now, Lord Munsington needs his sleep.”

“Come on then,” Steve huffs, hot air fluttering the unruly tendrils of Eddie’s hair. Heaving Eddie off of him, he stands to his feet before extending a hand out. “Prince Peanut is feeling generous and will allow Lord Munsington to sleep in his bed.”

“Will cuddling be allowed?” Eddie asks, slapping his hand into Steve’s.

With a swift yank, Eddie’s on his feet and being propelled into Steve’s awaiting arms. He wraps his own around Steve’s neck, fingers kneading at the knots in his neck. Steve groans in pleasure before his own arms wrap around Eddie’s middle, squeezing.

“Cuddles are always allowed.”

Untangling himself from Steve, he moves his right hand until it rests on the small of Steve’s back. “Then let’s get a move on it,” Eddie says, guiding them towards their bedroom.

[bestieriker]

i have thoughts about the pjo tv show but they might not be beloved... (long post, mostly just for myself but feel free to read my thoughts) (also lmk your thoughts! im curious if my experiences are universal) (also obv spoilers for ep8)

now i recognize i am watching this show through the lens of a much older person than i was when i read the books. percy is no longer older than me - he is now just a baby to me. and the actors are so young. so that might be the cause of some of my feelings. also i realize that a tv adaption is not going to be identical to the book. but what is tumblr if not a place to vent my frustrations, despite how irrational they may be?

i'll start with the good because there were some things i liked. i thought the actors mostly did a good job. the effects and sets and lighting and design was all very good, visually i think it was great. i like the gods i think theyre mostly well cast. I don't really have many problems with grover.

ok now lets talk about my frustrations. this isn't going to be super organized or logical. first of all, i had a problem with the characterization. most characters were actually not bad, but percy didn't really feel like percy to me. he seemed kinda darker? (whats he gonna be like when its dark!percy time??). like book percy obviously was not happy all the time, but he seemed light and he made jokes and he was a little goofier and i feel like in my mind he smiled more. tv percy kinda just seems sad all the time. and this might be a controversial take, but i feel like they gave some of percy's best traits to annabeth?? like annabeth was the one beefing with ares the most when he showed up. and a lot of the time she'd have a line that seemed so percy like!!! don't get me wrong - i love annabeth and the actress did a really great job! but i feel like she was kinda percy and annabeth at the same time in a way. i missed percy. also hades was different. they made hades fun which is cute but in the first book at least hes supposed to be kinda scary!!! i wasn't scared of hades at all. hades seems like he'd be a fun drinking buddy in this. those aren't the vibes hades should have, at least not at the first meeting.

ok next!!! where is the fun. pjo was such a fun series and i feel like the show has taken on more of a darker outlook! again i realize its a tv show and it was only an 8 ep run so they probably had time constraints, but i miss the fun little scenes that make the books such a fun read! like the "say hello to the poodle" scene ? or the scene where they're telling charon they died in a bathtub? and don't even get me started on the Crusty's bed scene. they just breezed right through that!!!

and thats another thing!!!! in the book they kept figuring things out while they were in the thick of it. which was fine!!! especially for percy - hes brand new to all of this, he has some knowledge but he makes mistakes because he's a kid and he is in a brand new world! and we get to see him and annabeth and grover get out of these tricky situations and figure things out!!! but in the show they know everything basically instantly. like the lotus casino or crustys scheme. i like seeing them make mistakes and fix it!! i don't think i was ever stressed watching this show (good stressed, like suspense stress) which i guess is in part because ive read the books but also because they were never in too terrible a position. and the kronos thing!!! percy knew right away. he was like oh word big pit? must be kronos. he did everything. like that is way too quick for early percy.

and then this is just me being nitpicky but i don't like how they changed things. like the luke betrayal reveal? where was the scorpion. that was so iconic and they just completely scrapped it! i thought it made luke's character kinda scary! like this guy fully just summoned a scorpion to kill percy. instead in the show hes like swinging at percy and percy manages to hurt him. i'm not scared of this luke. young percy, away from the sea, manages to hurt him? little annabeth scares him off? he runs away? ok big man try showing up again we won't be scared. idk it frustrates me.

one more thing before i wrap up the longest (and only) post i've made in ages. Sally Jackson using Medusa's head to turn gabe to stone was SO iconic. and what a great way for her to show us and the world and the gods how powerful she is. like she went from being sally jackson, mother and protector of percy (who was already pretty sick) to Sally Jackson, Capable of Basically Murder in a Super Cool Way!!!!!! i loved that. but in the show they just have gabe snooping and accidentally getting turned to stone? if i had never read the books and was watching this show with no knowledge of the books, i'd think it was just kinda a lazy way to wrap up a loose end. kinda felt like they took sally's power away (i know she divorced him but it doesn't really have the same gravitas).

ok i do have other thoughts but this is so long already and its bedtime. is it weird that i'm worried the younger cast might come across this? they probably won't care what i have to say but incase they do come across my super long post and read it (i would if i was 15 and starred in a show with a built in fanbase), i hope they take it with the biggest grain of salt. bc at the end of the day people like the show, its profitable (i assume), and i'm just a cranky old lady who doesn't like change. most of the changes i understand why they did it and i respect it. i'm just venting here. and you know what? if they release a second season (and third and fourth and fifth) i will be watching.

i guess i just wish they maybe had more episodes, or longer episodes, so they didn't have to rush it as much as (i felt) they did. overall it made people happy so who cares. have a good night tumblr.

[thegirlwhowrites642]

This has been stuck in my head lately, but “love is embarrassing” by Olivia Rodrigo is such a Ginny song but like, a post-convo-with-hermione Ginny looking back and being like “God yes I’ll start speaking in front of him I guess”

I love your metas/commentaries so I wanted to hear your thoughts on that! I always see folks commenting on Taylor’s song for hinny (as they should because stuff like Sweet Nothing, The Great War, and Daylight are so hinny-coded, and even right where you left me if you are in a hurt/comfort mood), but I think Olivia is a genius in the way she captures teenage angst/cringe, which I always thought Ginny experienced quite a bit.

First of all, I completely agree with Olivia being a genius at capturing teenage angst.

That said, one of the very interesting things about Ginny is that she is a romantic at heart (it's such an essential part of who she is). And I don't mean just romantic in the sense of someone who loves romance, romantic in the sense she sees life through a certain poetic lens. And yet, it's clear that for a few years there she didn't have a particularly high opinion of her feelings for Harry (saying that Harry didn't notice her is mostly false, Ginny didn't allow Harry to notice her because she often stayed away from him, when she is in the room Harry always notices her). Ginny hates being perceived as vulnerable/weak and so of course the huge impact her feelings for Harry have on her behaviour when she is younger brings up an amount of self-loathing that only makes her become more embarrassed. This is also why Ginny admitting in the break-up scene she never really gave up on Harry is such a huge thing, an incredible show of trust.

All of this to say: I absolutely agree with you, Ginny Weasley totally had a "love is stupid" phase.

[kainagant]

do u have any thoughts about the kind of hypothetical relationships nagant could've had with other villains ( the league, shie hassaikai, mla, etc) if they had ever been explored in canon?

hey anon, thanks for the ask. the answer to your question is yes, kinda, and not yet. but by the time i am done writing out this post the answer will be yes, yes, and hell yeah.

i have definitely thought about lady nagant's interaction with the lov. mostly because (exposed) i'm a dabihawks shipper and i also subscribe to the fanon that lady nagant and hawks knew each other a little bit more than canon would imply. though i think with kaina's personality she was probably a little bit closed off, even with little keigo, but she was definitely big sister-ing, just from a comfortable emotional distance. anyway au kaina gives dabi the scariest shovel talk he'll ever receive, and all she did was point the barrel of her elbow at him and say "watch yourself".

the other league members think shes cool. mostly. i think there would be preliminary distrust due to her hero status but then they get to know her a bit and discover that she actually has good takes. i think shiggy could appreciate that shes critical of hero society without just regurgitating stain's beliefs. she has her own perspective and firsthand experience to back it up. he mentally adds her grievances to the compiled list of "reasons why the lov are committing unspeakable crimes against humanity, if anyone ever bothers to ask"

(cut for length)

i have kinda thought about kaina's interaction with the shie hassaikai, but mostly through the lens of her and chisaki. honestly the 8pods would be like. she's god. for real. or maybe she's actually the devil. chisaki already fills the god position for them and kaina clearly doesn't fear god (chisaki) so she's just a different beast entirely. basically they are all shocked by how casually and oftentimes brusquely she talks to chisaki. kaina herself is a bit weirded out by the 8pods insane worship of chiskai. "he's just a guy???? he's not even that cool cmon guys what am i missing…" chisaki grumbles "stop telling them that, it took a lot of effort to convince them im god" /j

okay jokes aside i think kaina would sympathize heavily with many of the 8pods downtrodden experiences. i mean she sympathized with chisaki, which not even the paragon of forgiveness and saving everyone (midoriya) was really willing to do. let's be real, for as much as kaina has a cold shell, she's very very gooey and warm on the inside and she sees this ragtag group of wet cats that chisaki scraped off the street, and she adopts them. with her unique brand of acting like she doesn't care when actually her heart aches whenever she thinks about what they went through.

i just want to preface this next part by saying that i'm a little bit biased against the mla. not to say that they're bad characters or that it's wrong to like or enjoy them, but from a personal standpoint i've never found them as compelling as other villains. i mean their motive is like. borrowed from another guy. and maybe if they had personal experiences with quirk discrimination, like toga or tabe, they might be more sympathetic. its not that they don't have a point, its just that its obvious that all of the members have a lot of privilege, and it makes me wonder how well they actually understand what destro wanted for society. also their motive is kinda funky because its a lot more relevant to the time literal decades ago that destro was actually living in. not saying that quirk discrimination isn't a thing in present day canon but like. we see it in the opposite direction that the mla sees it. we see people who are quirkless be treated like they're worthless. and the mla seems to want a society that only reinforces this issue, by assigning value to people based off of their quirks.

this is all to say that (i'm projecting) lady nagant would probably not like the mla that much. even putting aside whether their motives and beliefs are sympathetic or not, i think kaina would see the obvious privilege that they have, the pressed suits and influence and wealth, and be like. damn. did society really hurt you or did it actively benefit you? i also think on an individual level, members like curious and trumpet would irk her. like, btw, i love curious and i think that her being a media piranha makes her interesting, but also kaina would think she's incredibly annoying and invasive. kaina would also aliken trumpet to the hero commission, with his (what is essentially) brainwashing of his followers.

at the same time though, i think kaina has probably carried out hits on people like the mla. and although she may not agree with their ideology, she doesn't think that means they should be silenced. let the people speak, even if she thinks they're insane and wrong. because she believes that people deserve to have the whole, unfiltered truth, and then make their own judgements.

tl;dr on the mla thing. she wouldn't be besties with them, but she wouldn't necessarily hate them or anything. probably just scoff whenever they try to talk to her. like ok, re-destro, whatever you say (internally thinks he's stupid).

a more light hearted headcanon could be curious hounding kaina for the "untold story of the treacherous hero" etc etc. they develop an unfriendly rivalry in that kaina spends a lot of time trying to avoid curious and curious spends a lot of time hunting her down. maybe they have hate sex. this sounds like the plot for a crazy enemies to lovers slow burn rarepair nagacurious that i will not be writing. but yeah that could happen. maybe even throw curious character development in for flavor. i mean it starts out with curious relentlessly pursuing lady nagant, it evolves into "ok my interest in you has evolved from just pure journalism and now i'd like to kiss you and go on dates" and at some point lady nagant actually explains her tragic backstory, and the character growth moment is curious not betraying kaina's trust, and actually keeping the juicy details to herself. to reiterate delusional: i will not be writing this fic.

anyway thanks so much for the ask, anon. most of this was like. crack taken seriously and definitely in an au, but yeah. i love thinking about lady nagant, and i really enjoyed considering how she might mesh with the other villains in the series.

[theoldaeroplane]

I inbox you the following: I must know what compels you about Link. I trust that he is Good and Excellent, but I simply yearn for an essay on what little niche trait makes you wanna fandom the fuck out of this little guy. 5-10 paragraphs of hyper fixated ramblings preferred, but not required.

ohhh starkid you've given me A GIFT. a GIFT.

So some background first, I think. I've always liked the Zelda games, in the way you play a mainstream game and are like "yeah that was good!" I played Ocarina of Time and Windwaker as a kid. I played Breath of the Wild when it first came out and had a fun time with it. Yeah. Good games! Fun mechanics. Characters seem a little flat, but they aren't why I'm here. What was the story again? Oh, right---yeah, they gave Zelda an actual personality that doesn't start and end with "princess" in the new one! She's a scientist! How neat.

Then Tears of the Kingdom comes out. I've just gotten a Steam Deck for my birthday and wow, turns out you can emulate TOTK already?? I try it out immediately. It's janky, but I love messing with emulators, so I keep going. I certainly don't have the cash to buy TOTK properly.

And in TOTK, for me, it starts with Zelda. It starts with this young woman barely out of her teens being flung into a horrible, frightening situation, and being forced to make an absolutely terrifying choice. And it turns out if you start looking at her more closely, that choice only becomes more and more viscerally upsetting as you incorporate things about her from the previous game.

It got me invested, and I still adore Zelda. I could probably write just as long a deliberation about her. But we're talking about Link.

I read a little bit of BOTW fanfic back when it first came out. It was almost all Sidon/Link stuff, because I liked the ship for a number of reasons, and one evening after another night of mainlining TOTK I decide to go look and see if I can find some that I remembered being good. I did, and they were still mostly good! But there was one in particular, with one line in particular. "You're Always Almost There," by Polyhexian. (On mobile so no link, sorry!)

'One hundred years ago,’ Link signed, 'A Guardian shot me through the chest,’ he grimaced as if in pain from even mentioning it, 'I died with everyone else, and then someone else decided to bring me, and only me, back to life to fix everything, to save everyone. I have to stop the Calamity. I have to save Hyrule. I have to fix the world. I am not a real person. I am everyone’s unfinished business.’

I had read it before. When I read it this time I closed my browser, opened Typora, and started writing. It wasn't more than a random narrative sifting through half collected ideas, and I neither finished nor posted it, but it got me started. A few weeks later I started writing To Be Well, which among other things directly addresses the idea that Link does not think of himself as a "real person"---and that he isn't sure if he wants to.

As I've written him, I've found more and more about him and his setting that fascinates me. Part of this is certainly that Link is intentionally designed as a "placeholder" character (word of God is he was deliberately designed to be androgynous to make it easier for more people to project on him). At first I was really fascinated by his relationship with Zelda, and wanted to look at that through a queerplatonic lens. In doing that I found myself trying to work through some problems of my own, which it turns out is just how I write fanfiction I guess: projecting! Huzzah! I decided to lean into it, and wrote "You do not have to be good," which is a story that takes some liberties with the canon to explore the subject of toxic purity and the toll it takes. Also, the logistics of kissing someone with a beak.

What makes Link compelling to me is ... what do you do, when you aren't allowed to be a person? What do you do when you've been told all your life things are like this and this and this, and that you must behave thusly?  What if you learn it was never true? How do you go from "perfect" to "real"? What does it even mean, being a person? How do you start? Is it even worth it?

I feel like I'm only scratching the surface, haha. I also love Link for whatever the hell he's doing with gender, and I've been having an absolute blast writing him as predominantly communicating via sign language. I'm playing fast and loose with a lot of things that only get half-mentioned in canon, and having a good old time playing in the sandbox of Hyrule. They're huge games and there's a lot of space for me to set up shop!

[wombatwisdom]

Thoughts from the Gather Conference

I want to take some time to engage with some of the speakers from the Gather Conference. I do want to share my thoughts with others, but mostly I'm doing this for myself. Also, my thoughts are based on my recollections of speeches I have only heard once and do not have the text to review, so everything is my paraphrasing and interpretation.

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

Charlie Bird and Allison Dayton spoke one right after the other on Day 2 of the conference and whether intentional or not, their messages paired nicely.

Charlie's address, entitled "Resolution through the Gospel of Christ" focused mostly on dispelling the myth of having to choose between being a child of God and a member of the LGBTQ+ community. He believes that the idea of needing choose is a lie and one that is held onto by traditional thinking. His call to arms was to actively choose both, be a child of God who is out and proud.

Allison Dayton's speech, entitled "Enlarge the Place of Thy Tent", was focused on reaching out to people in the "wilderness of life" and invite them into our tents. She was clear that the tent in her analogy is not the Church as an institution but rather the personal tent of our lives. She said, quite clearly, that we cannot do much about the church's policies of inclusion, but we can invite everyone into our circles of love regardless.

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

Potentially controversial take here, so fair warning.

To the outside observer these talks seem a bit toothless, especially when looked at from an activist lens. Enlarging circles of love and being out and proud children of God on their own seem like harmless and lackluster. If you are looking for monumental change, will either of these acts actually accomplish that?

I'm also not sure Charlie or Allison have alterior motivations here, they may not be actively trying shake things up, but my Machiavellian little soul can help but see something deeper going on here.

The church is often times miles behind when it comes to social change and obvious activism hardly ever results in much more than name calling. True change in the church comes from those in minority groups gradually carving out acceptance and many many many meetings with those in power. And since most of us won't sit in counsils with those in control, we must settle with carving out acceptance.

Here is where Charlie and Allison come in. There is something transgressive in what they are saying while still remaining technically within the doctrines of mormonism.

Charlie's approach feels similar to Harvey Milk's in the 1970's. Milk's philosophy was that everyone should be out in all walks of life to show that "average people" knew someone in the LGBTQ+ community. This was controversial at the time and still is now, but I can see the appeal of this approach. And I personally think there was some success in the normalization of a very specific type of "queer person" in the mainstream.

Charlie's proposal directly confronts the belief that some Mormons hold that the LGBTQ+ community is somehow not part of the Momron community. Or that we shouldn't be. And I do think that being out, at the very least, would force people to recognize we exist and we are unavoidable.

Allison's approach is different but reaches a similar outcome (and can be practiced by Allies and LGBTQ+ folks). By encouraging people to expand their circles of inclusion she is subtly disrupting the status quo in Mormonism. Ultimately she is proposing a grassroots movement, first of love and support, that if grown large enough might force larger change.

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

Now again, this is my inference and thoughts. And both of these approaches are very quiet forms of activism that don't ask for very much and deliberately indirect. This is, if it is anything, the long game.

I think I wanted to share this because often this type of advocacy is either dismissed entirely by critics or is easily missed by those looking for it as the advocacy is implied rather than stated.

At the end of the day, advocacy in this space is controversial, difficult, and messy. And while imperfect--i think that there is at least hope to be had. Because even if change doesn't come, Charlie's and Allison's visions will still be vital in building community which is always needed.

[neepin]

Wait wait wait

Do Pudding and Waugh have Ellsworld counterparts?? Ik logically they would just bc that’s how Ellsworld typically works but it starts with Tori making Waugh of Waugh’s equivalent, and I can’t see Tori making a catboy oc bc she has lesbian bias (this is meant to be silly but also I AM genuinely curious)

YES YES I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED!!

Yes, they do exist! Their names are Fudge and Bando Kun.

Bando is his name cause Waugh Chan comes about from a typo of Waifu Chan. Bando is a typo of Husbando Kun. God,, Tori’s cringe weeb ass is embarrassing but she is a teenager in the 2000s, give her a break PFt

OKAY SO! Right. On the topic of the whole lesbian thing, I do have a reason for this. Sorry for it being long winded in advance, its a little difficult to put this experience into words

Of course this isn’t universal for all lesbians in fandom spaces, but I have found that a couple other people have reflected an experience I thought was only my own. Essentially, when tori discovers fandoms and such for the first time, shipping is always a very big aspect in the communities she is invested in. She hasn’t figured out her sexuality by this point, but the main drive for her making Bando in the first place is to reflect the way she only ever is exposed to queer relationships through the lens of male pairings. She never really considers pairing female characters together, mostly due in part to the media she consumes presenting women as uninteresting compared to their male counterparts. And therefore the fandom she is surrounded with dislike these female characters.

I don’t have the most set in stone idea of what they would look like, but I hope those doodles give a good idea of what I’m thinking! ^^

I am so glad you’re curious about this!!!! I really love answering questions about ocs, it makes me incredibly happy. So thank you for asking :]

[phcenixfcrce]

chapter six - right where you left me

As per plan, every Saturday or maybe one or two days out of the week, Orlando came over to the Luccetti house - because that’s what Bobby preferred. Every once in a blue moon visit, Del was allowed to visit Orlando’s. Carl and Teddy initially were not fond of Orlando. Del teased him for putting on this spectacle to impress her family, but he insisted that he knew it was faster to build trust with her family by using his ‘white voice’ and acting ‘prim and proper’. They worked on assignments together, studied, or sat and watched TV or a couple episodes of a show with her brothers. And according to this plan, Wayne was given instructions to lie low, and Orlando incorrectly assumed he would comply. Unbeknownst to Orlando, of course. 

According to Wayne’s plan, half an hour Orlando left for school, Wayne would take the spare house key and leave. He wore dark clothes and wore a baseball cap and sunglasses - the same thing he had to wear when they went grocery shopping. And he walked. Every day, he walked to Del’s neighborhood and peered and watched. While he could vaguely see Orlando’s vision through a lens that Terrence had to instill in him, that approach to figuring out the Luccetti’s schedule was not working for him. He watched Bobby’s truck return from presumably dropping Del off, and coming home. Another half an hour would pass before him and her brothers got back into the truck. Wayne would find somewhere and genuinely sit for hours, watching. Somedays, the three of them came home early. Some of the days, he would see only Bobby come home and drop Del off. Then leave again, and come back a few hours later. 

But every time Wayne saw Del’s figure, he wanted to run to her. He wanted to run to her and hold her and never let go. He was getting too close and tempting fate when he did this. But every time he was around in the neighborhood and Del was getting home, she would look around. Like she was searching for something. Her face was often wistful, as Orlando described to Wayne. He watched from a few houses away - which were most likely condemned by the city of Brockton. She looked tired. He could hear Bobby shouting for her, yelling her full name. He would linger. Orlando would ask him what he was doing, but Wayne justified his outside time by saying he went on walks to calm his anger. Something Terrence tried getting him to do once. It wasn’t really effective. But it wasn’t a complete lie. 

So, Orlando’s plan was thus discarded in Wayne’s mind. It was out the window. They’d talk over dinner or lunch, and talk about how it was going. It was mostly a lot of Wayne going ‘uh-huh’, ‘yeah’, and ‘okay’s. Orlando was weary of Wayne’s lackluster responses. It was believable that it was attributed to how downtrodden Wayne was without Del. He didn’t want to pry and risk Wayne attempting to kick his ass. He didn’t put it past him. Juvie was rough, and if you were trapped in a building with Wayne McCullough, you should be picking a god and praying to it. 

By now, it had been a month, and school was going to be over for summer in early June. Orlando told him how much better Del was doing when they got to hang out. He told Wayne about things she did for the student council, and that she got to be student body president. But to balance out the positivity, kind of, was Del’s home life. He told Wayne the Luccetti’s worked in construction, and Bobby had his own crew he was lead foreman for. No wonder they were gone all day. But Wayne was formulating. The next day he went to Del’s house, and Bobby dropped her off and went back to work, he was going to her front door. 

He was tired of waiting. 

⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓

By now, mid-May had come. Wayne had a handle on the Luccetti’s schedule. Orlando had accepted that Wayne was a better man - boy - man now. He went on walks to calm down. He ate actual real food that wasn’t snacks, or probably junk food he had along the way. He had looked better. He had maintained Orlando’s grandma’s yard, and helped keep the house clean. He was reformed. At least, to Orlando. 

It’s a Friday morning, and Orlando has left for school. Wayne already made a grocery list for the weekend. He did his chores. He even did his laundry without Orlando’s help to use it. When it went off, it sang a little song. Just like the house he stayed in before. He bided his time until school was over. The Luccetti men stayed at work until 7, coming home at 7:30 on Fridays. Because he knew from his friend, they stayed home all weekend and basically never leave except to take Del to work. So he waited. When Orlando came home, they ate lunch. At 3:30, when he knew for sure enough time had passed that her brothers and dad wouldn’t be home, he went to leave. 

“I’m going for my walk.” 

“It might as well be a goddamn hike.” Orlando snorted, finishing eating the chips on his plate. “I ain’t even asking where you go. But at least you coverin’ up.” 

“I just walk. I missed Brockton.” Which wasn’t a lie. But she was the only good thing in this town. Orlando was too, he guesses. 

“Yeah. I don’t know if Brockton miss you.” 

Wayne got up and threw away his trash, and grabbed his outside garb - dressed up, and grabbed his keys. 

“I’ll come home at 6.” 

“Cool. We makin’ shrimp scampi today.” 

“We’re making what?” 

“Shrimp scampi. You’ll see.” 

“Okay. Bye.” 

“Bye.” 

Orlando followed suit with his trash and they parted ways - Orlando went upstairs, and Wayne power walked his way to the door. 

The rush of adrenaline hit him again, fueling his walk. He felt lightheaded as he walked - his usual 30 minute walk became 15. The fire in his chest ignited, and his blood coursing through his veins was gasoline. He stopped at the house before theirs. No pick-up truck. He walked to the Luccetti - walking up the steps. His heart was racing. He felt like he was out of breath. He lowered his ridiculous hood, shoved his sunglasses in his pocket. He outstretched a hand, and hesitated to knock. 

What would she say? How would she react? He had been dreaming of this moment for months. He clutched her necklace in his other hand. It was all he had of her. 

He braces himself, and knocks against the wood of the door. The porch of her house looked different. It had a lot of work put in. The paint on the door was no longer peeling, and the flooring on the stairs and porch floor had been redone. A nice patio set replaced the bench-like seating in front of the house. 

No answer. He knocks again. He hears yelling. 

“Would you fuckin’ wait a second?” 

Del. 

He stepped back and waited. 

He hears footsteps approaching the door, a few locks unlock, a chain be undone, and the door handle turned. The door swung open. 

Del Luccetti. 

She stared at him, her eyes wide, and she slammed the door shut. The door reopens. And then she slammed it shut again. It stayed shut. Wayne knocked on the door again. Del swung open the door and yanked him inside. He stumbles, tripping over his own feet. 

“Wayne!” 

She closes the door behind them - and she does all the locks. She turns to look at him, standing in her walkway. He stares at her. Her hair got a little longer, and her neck was bare. He holds out his hand. Under the living room lights, her name glinted in the metal script in the palm of his hand. Her eyes flicker from staring at him, to down at her necklace, then back up at him. She doesn’t say another word before nearly leaping forward to hug him. She wraps her arms around him, holding him tight - as if, if she lets him go, he would disappear into thin air. He smelled like mangoes. She buries her face in the crook of his neck and her eyes immediately fill with tears. She had shed tears for Wayne before many times, over many nights. But now she could cry tears for his return. He held her in return with the same sentiment that like sand in the hourglass, it’d slip through his hands. She didn’t burst into a sob, instead she regained her composure. After a long few seconds, she let go, and ignored the welled up tears in her eyes. 

“What the fuck, Wayne? What are you doin’ here?” She asked. He could see her eyes glassy as she spoke to him. 

“I got out of juvie.” He answered. “I came to see ya.” 

“They let you out?” 

He glances at the floor. “Kind of.” 

“Kind of?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Big jail break. So I got out.” He shrugged. “Took the bus to Boston. Now I’m here.” 

“When? Like, fuckin’ today?” 

“Uh.” 

This was the hard part. Wayne didn’t prepare to answer the ‘how long?’ question. Because it has been weeks now. And Orlando didn’t know where he was going at night. Del looked at him expectantly, like he would give an answer like, ‘in the last day’. 

“Uh. April.” 

“April?!” She snapped. Her face was hardened now. “You been in fuckin’ Brockton since April?! Where the fuck have you been?!” 

“Orlando’s.” 

The anger on Del’s face grew stiff, and her skin went pale. Oh my God. The dots were connecting as her eyes bore into Wayne’s  face, and he nervously stared back. 

“Them were no fuckin’ raccoons.” She was going to fucking kill Orlando. “It was you.” The noises, the messes of snack wrappers and so much laundry in his room despite visiting with Orlando literally every week or weekend. Wayne was living there. Jesus fucking Christ. Her face softens, thinking of how long it had been. 

“Why did you wait?” She asked quietly. 

“I didn’t want your dad to fuckin’ kill you.” He answered. “Well. And really fuckin’ kill me for real this time.” He thinks of Orlando’s words. “I didn’t want you to get in trouble.” 

She knows he’s right - because there was no other explanation as to why he would wait so long. But she felt some sort of subliminal embarrassment, wondering if Wayne had seen her while he was hiding away. Her ridiculous work uniform, or about how her dad shouted and yelled at her when they were at Orlando’s house. 

“Orlando and I were gonna tell you soon. I couldn’t fuckin’ wait. I wait for your dad and brothers to go. I tried really hard not to go to the school to find you.” 

She missed his voice so, so terribly. He looked tired, but that wasn’t abnormal for Wayne. But this kind of tiredness, he was like a fire ready to self extinguish. He held out her necklace again. She takes it, and fumbles to put it on herself. 

“Thanks, dummy.” She smiled, the pain in her chest persisting. It ached and pained in his absence, but now the fear that he would be taken from her again. That if Bobby found out, he’d rip up the roots of the Luccetti family wordlessly and leave Brockton. She couldn’t take it. 

“What time do they come home?” 7:30. He knows already. 

“7:30. I gotta start cookin’ dinner.” Remembering her duties, she’s deflated. There came Wayne’s anger as he followed her into a kitchen like a puppy at her heels. She opens the fridge and pulls out thawed fish, and digs through her cabinet for spices. She returns to the kitchen’s island with salt, pepper, and dill. She gets back into the fridge for a small lemon and butter. 

“They make you cook?” Wayne asked. His temper hadn’t changed. That’s for sure. 

Del was almost hesitant to answer. Delilah Luccetti was no fuckin’ martyr. She did what she needed to to survive. 

“Yeah, but it means I don’t gotta eat takeout garbage all the fuckin’ time.” 

Wayne knew to what extent she was fulfilling her duties. Her kitchen and living room looked different. The patches in the walls he had seen were finally sanded down and repainted. The kitchen looked nicer-ish. She turns the oven on to preheat. The furniture mostly stayed the same. But her house was changing. She digs a sheet pan out of a cabinet beside the oven, and some roll of foil out of a drawer. She pulls it and cuts it off along the serrated edge and lays it flat onto the pan. 

“You hungry?” She asks. Wayne watchers her movements, almost robotic in nature with how she moved - every step was planned out. She didn’t even need to think. Like she had made this particular meal so many times, it didn’t really require thought. 

“Kind of.” 

“That’s a yes.”

He wants to ask her about what it’s been like. She cuts open the packaging around the filets of fish with a knife, not bothering with a pair of scissors. She lays out five pieces onto the pan. She leans across the counter to grab a lighter and a candle that sat beside a bowl of fruit. She ignites the wicks and sets it back down, before taking salt and pepper to the filets. It read blueberry cobbler. He doesn’t know what that is. But it smells really nice. 

“Orlando told me you work at the pizza shop.”

She wipes the knife from cutting open the fish onto her sleeve, and then starts to slice the lemon into slices. He wanted to ask her what she was making. He wanted to ask her a lot, but maybe this wasn’t the time. 

“Yeah. They let you eat like two slices on your lunch break, like it’s a free perk or whatever.” She answered, leaving the slices on the counter before dusting each one with the dill seasoning. “It gets busy.” She talks as though she’s just accepted the way things are. This is her life now. He knows her better than this. She lays two slices on each piece, and cuts small pieces of butter to sit on each piece as well. She opens the oven door and Wayne answers her while she’s turned away. He doesn’t think before he speaks. 

“Orlando told me you said they make you work like your ma’.” She slowly closes the oven door and turns to face Wayne. 

“I didn’t have a fuckin’ choice, Wayne.” Her warm brown eyes were filled with a violence she had been trying to temper down since he had been gone. “It was this, or I go to a Catholic all girls school in fuckin’ Philadelphia. I chose to stay and do this. Bein’ a fuckin’ maid and mother to Carl, Teddy and my dad.” 

He lets her talk. 

“If stayin’ in Brockton meant I had to fuckin’ scrub floors, make bullshit meals and doin’ shit all the time, I wanted to do it. I wasn’t gonna fuckin’ leave because I didn’t know how else I was gonna see you again. I didn’t know how long you were gonna be stuck in fuckin’ Florida, wherever the fuck you were, prayin’ you’d get home.”

“I would’a found you.” 

“My dad would’a made sure no one could. Not even you.” She rests her hands on the counter, leaning forward. “I just wanted to fuckin’ be here. Right where you left me.” 

He looks back at her and watches her face. Studying every little feature in her face now. 

“I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

“I don’t know that.” 

“I do.” 

Her jaw gets tight, and they lock eyes. The eye contact is intense - both of their stomachs feeling like they were twisting into knots. 

“You don’t know that.” 

“Orlando and I got plans.” 

“Yeah? Like what? Fuckin’ hidin’ you like a fugitive? You wearin’ disguises forever?” 

“No. We’re gonna get jobs. I’ll get a job to make money.” 

“You haven’t even graduated school.” 

“I’m gonna get my GED. I’m gonna save money to move out. We can get an apartment. Then you and I can live in it.” 

Del exhales, sniffling. 

“I don’t want you to go away again.” 

“I’m not.” 

This answer from Wayne came stern, and strong. Unwavering sureness to the truth. They both know this. Wayne would have to be in a body bag to be taken out of Brockton, and to be taken away from Del. He had worked so hard to come home. Nothing, and he means nothing is getting in the way of earning Del back. He’d do what he needed to go. He got through months of juvie. He rode hours on a gross, smelly bus that played movies back to Boston. He did therapy. He had done so much to get here. 

“I’m gonna get a job and live with Orlando until we can live together.” 

“I think I have to be goin’ to college before my dad lets me move out. Maybe not even then. He’ll have to fuckin’ kick the bucket first.” 

“He can’t fuckin’ keep you here forever, Del.”

It’s her turn to look down at the counter. 

“He makes me feel like it.” 

“You’re not gonna be stuck here forever. You’re gonna be mayor someday. Then you don’t gotta worry about motherin’ your dad and brothers no more.”

25 minutes go by fast while they talk. The clock was inching closer to the time that Carl, Teddy and Bobby would come home. She looks at him and thinks about the moments before they were separated. How fuzzy her head felt, feeling dizzy and sick - calling out for Wayne in her slurred speech trying to force herself to consciousness. How she put the pedal of the golden Trans-Am to the floor, trying to find the nearest hospital. Wayne’s labored breathing beside her. Words falling out of her mouth, trying to utter a phrase she’d never imagined she’d say out loud to another human being. 

“Did you mean it?” 

He thinks about what she asks him. His face covered in blood, head throbbing and rested against the window. The way his nose hurt from the fractures, feeling the bruising under the skin. He could still feel it now. He could barely feel it in the moment when he had the racing thought he had been thinking and holding back the moment they met. 

“I love you, Del.”

“I mean it.” 

She felt reassured. Her heart skipped two beats, and they both parted their lips to speak at the same time. 

“I love you, Wayne.” 

“I love you, Del.” 

They hold eye contact a little while longer. The oven dings, and they break it after a few more seconds of the timer beeping in the background. She turns around and takes the food out, and digs in the freezer for two brown rice packets - throwing them into the microwave. She opens a cabinet door beside the oven and takes out five plates and sets them on the counter. She takes two off the stack - one to Wayne, and one for herself. They take their plates and forks, taking a piece of fish each. Del removed the brown rice packets from the microwave and poured each packet onto a plate. They walk into her living room - five steps away - and curl up on her couch beside each other and eat.

Neither one of them really talks while they watch TV. It’s only fitting that The Mummy is playing on the channel now. It was no Encino Man, but they didn’t care. They ate their food - the smell of fish was overwhelmed by the candle burning in the kitchen. Wayne thought about work while they ate. Yeah, he could do demolition. Orlando suggested it. But Wayne thought about his future the way Del did. The way she would change Brockton. 

What would Wayne do? 

He chews the fish - tender, and the dill with lemon combination was good. The rice was lacking in flavor, but the fish helped. But the fish itself was great. They glance at each other occasionally throughout the movie. Del made him want to do more. He could work at a store somewhere, with a consistent pay he might not get waiting outside of a Lowes or Home Depot. He could ask Orlando about other jobs. He thought about writing. Writing comics, not books. Reading was terrible. He could write, and he and Orlando could draw. Maybe own a comic book store. He didn’t really want a lot out of life. Just him, Del, and their house. Maybe kids. 

He looks at Del while she watches Brendan Fraiser fight for his life on the screen. She’d be a good ma’. 

He wonders if he’d be a good dad. 

⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓

After the runtime of the movie was up, they washed their plates in the sink and set it in the drying rack. THeir time together was coming to an end. 

“You gotta go before they’re home.” 

“I know.” Wayne answered, wishing now he could have boots of concrete. He missed her so much, the way she smelled like jasmine. The feeling of her shoulder leaning into his, and her head on his chest. 

They stand in the kitchen, neither person wishing to separate. She walks them to the front door and undoes the locks. 

“When am I gonna see you again?” 

“When you go to Orlando’s. If your dad leaves ya.” 

“Yeah. He might. We’ll see.” She chuckles nervously. 

“So, this is bye?” 

“Yeah. Only for a coupl’a days.” She assures him.

 Her eyes looked wet again. She hugs him suddenly, and squeezes him tight. SHe didn’t want to let go. He wraps his arms around her small frame. SOmeday, they wouldn’t have to say goodbye. They’d wake up and sleep next to each other in the same room, in the same bed. She leans back in the hug and cups Wayne’s cheeks. Del leans in, pressing her lips against Wayne’s and it feels like little fireworks go off between them. The electricity that passes from one person to the next is invigorating. They hadn’t exchanged a kiss since the hospital. It’s hungry in a touch starved nature. No, Del didn’t do the romance shit - but she had him back. She would be damned if that was going to change. He kisses her back, clutching her tighter against him. The long kiss gently breaks, only to be replaced by smaller kisses. Both of their hearts beat beat beat against their juvenile rib cages wishing to break free. Body to body contact wasn’t nearly enough. They give each other one last little kiss and rest their foreheads together. 

Neither one of them moves and just stands there. Her eyelids flutter open. 

“Okay. Now you gotta go.” She whispers, her hands moving down his shoulders to hold onto his forearms. They reluctantly let each other go. 

She cracks open the front door and rests tiredly against its frame. He steps through the door and looks back at her. 

“I love you, Del.” 

“I love you, Wayne.” 

She watches him go down her porch steps, and walk away from her house. He glances back at her every once in a while. She watches as his figure disappears in the darkness of Brockton’s night. ONce she can’t see him anymore, she closes her front door. Once it closes completely and she locks it up again - she collapses back against the door. She squeezes her eyes shut and tilts her head back against the wood and looks up towards the ceiling. He had only been gone for barely a few minutes. She exhales shakily and finally lets herself cry. 

Happy tears streamed down her face, and a smile tugs at the corners of her lips. 

Wayne McCullough was back. 

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

Its your tumblr man. talk about nova if you want!

I don’t have the time to explain the entirety of the shadow the hedgehog arc but it’s eating my brain like. he and shadow are both created beings who feel aimless and confused but nova knows why he was created while shadow doesn't. and bc nova is metal sonic he knows shadow's past so he kind of ends up becoming a mentor to him bc he relates (though he’s a manipulative amoral shit so he is not upfront about anything, except that shadow is not a robot bc that gives him an excuse to kick him as hard as possible and then gloat about how if he were truly a robot he wouldn’t be able to feel the pain and therefore he’s inferior). neither of them know what morality is and they stumble through most of the haphazard plot points in one way or another trying to figure it out. he flat out just ditches shadow when black doom shows up for last story bc he fundamentally cares more about defeating sonic than literally everything else and if sonic is eaten alive he can’t do that so he saves his life. he accidentally ends up in a qpr with him bc sonic (not entirely incorrectly) assumes that “i will keep you safe until you have reached your full potential and i have mine, then i will prove my superiority and kill you and relish in it, but until then i feel satisfied in existing around you and i will continue on your legacy after i kill you” is essentially the closest thing he can get to a confession and being both very aroace and an adrenaline junkie sees “close friendship until one of us kills the other” as way more fun than, like, anything anyone sensible would consider a qpr. he adopts a chao. when he realises trans people exist he immediately goes “okay. i will beat everyone at every gender” and starts using any/all pronouns bc they should rightly belong to him. she goes to therapy.

06 isnt entirely planned but i do know how it ends (mephiles killing sonic was the exact best way to piss off nova and bc he is metal sonic's sonic oc rp character and he has all the power he has in heroes and more solaris fucking dies painfully. also they absorb his power which would be terrifying if they were still trying to conquer the world but instead they’re using their irl amino rp to cope with their issues marginally better) and unleashed onwards is mostly just a collection of ideas. the main plots still happen bc like, nova does like larping as a organic normal hedgehog but he fundamentally views the world through the lens of his ultimate showdown with sonic and proving his superiority being the only thing that matters and he Wants sonic to go through adversity to grow stronger as he also grows stronger by. mostly just pirating the dna of various gods honestly. but she also will Not tolerate anyone killing sonic but herself (and in general will Not tolerate anyone killing sonics friends or her father bc she considers them + sonic the only tolerable organics even if she considers everyone but sonic as inferior to herself) so. forces is fun. and also there’s a reason for the metal sonic illusion to be a thing (bc metal left the nest and is pretty apathetic to the whole “taking over the world” thing outside of it letting it commit grievous bodily harm)

there’s originally a much starker divide between nova (as metal sonics own deviantart recolour) and neo metal sonic as himself but by the time sonic and friends know who he is and don’t immediately reject him for that or the inherent fact he's got a very different and oftentimes confusing mindset and way of thinking than them he's very casual at slipping between the two and uses both names interchangeably. he generally prefers his organic disguise, bc he can go outside with it, but uses his original voice (which is monotone sonic with electronic distortion) and usually turns off the systems he made so he automatically moves and emotes in a more natural manner bc he finds emulating stuff like breathing or crying uncomfortable and disgusting even if he’s able to tolerate looking organic.