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notmoreflippingelves · 11 months ago

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@saemi-the-dreamer asked: Esteban: 2, 7, 18, 19 and 21? :D

As I mentioned in my initial reply to the ask, I made a separate post for Esteban, since--as will surprise no one--I really rambled on A LOT about him. And it wasn't fair to shove all my EsteRamblings into the same, much shorter post with Gabe.

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

Honestly, pretty much everything about Esteban's character journey in S3 makes me absolutely INSANE (in the best way). But I think the thing that makes me most feral of all is the moment when he falls into the crystal well. His sparkly new outfit and stupid hairdo. The fact that the narrative has visibly and thematically linked him via this shared experience with Elena for the entire rest of the show. The symbolism of him being given the power to run away (literally and metaphorically) from the problems that he has caused. The fact that the show will ultimately end with him not running away but instead running towards something (Elena, specifically to save her from the problem Esteban himself caused). It's just... they did all this to me, an English major, and expected me to be normal about it. The audacity.

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

I like it when Esteban is *included* in things. While I wouldn't say he gets as much focus as the four amigos or Isabel, he still does get a good bit of art and a reasonable amount of fic. And its honestly nice to have a blorbo who isn't just shamelessly ignored (*cough Jean Innocent *cough) or vilified to the point of OOC-ness (*cough Kristoph Gavin cough*) , or used almost exclusively as a plot device to facilitate the fandom preferred ship of which they are not part of (both of the others).

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

"Admire" is a weird way to put it as it makes it sound as though the dynamic is or should be aspirational/healthy. And I'm honestly having trouble coming up with one that fits that particularly description. I guess either Isabel or Francisco would be closest to meeting that description. But I don't really have too much to say about them right now.

So I am just going to go ahead and treat this question as "relationship that I find interesting and enjoy watching." And honestly, there is a LOT of them. Obviously his relationship with Elena is arguably the building block of the entire show and naturally, I love and cherish it with my entire heart. But I already ramble too much about it so I won't do so here.

I also find his history and complicated relationship with Victor fascinating. The two are clear foils of each other and very shippable ones too, and so my little English major brain/rare pair loving self gets a lot of mileage over the little that we see of them together. But we really only get a single episode of the two of them interacting. (Apart from a few moments in "The Magic Within" and Esteban being mentioned a few times in "The Lightning Warrior") so there's really only so much that I can say about them. And a lot of what I love about them is really just head canons/parts of my fic, so it could be totally ooc.)

Similarly, I think his dynamic with Dona Paloma is fun to watch and has a lot of interesting potential, but we really only scratch the surface of it. The narrative lets them be temporary allies or business rivals for the sake of a given episode's plot, but its rarely done in a way that adds something new or interesting to their relationship. (When Esteban + Paloma political shenanigans happen, its rarely used to advance either of their character developments and when it is, it's usually just Paloma's..as Esteban gets most of his development in other episodes).

So, I feel like I have to say that the most-interesting-and engaging Esteban relationship (apart from Elena) has to be Naomi. The two of them have a really interesting dynamic to watch and their relationship specifically (as opposed to just the two of them as individual characters) gets a good amount of direct focus. Whether Esteban is sniping at Naomi from across the Grand Council table, begrudgingly accepting her as a capable colleague by the end of "Finders Leapers," teaching her to waltz (in order to show up Paloma) in "My Fair Naomi" or clinging to her when Valentina's carriage goes out of control, the two of them don't just steal the scene but positively abscond with it in the most delightful way. Plus, I love the parallels of Naomi ending the show in Esteban's former position as Chancellor. (I like to headcanon that she's gonna end up seeking a lot of advice from him for her new role and may even recruit him as her number two. He has 41 years of valuable experience that it would be shame to waste).

19. How about a relationship they have in canon that you don't like?

This is hardly a surprising answer, but...I do not particularly care for his relationship with Luisa. Esteban was orphaned when he was 9 at most, so he barely remembers his mother. The closest thing to a mother that he does remember is the grandmother who raised him. He needed lots of love and validation and attention, and based on what we see in canon, Luisa didn't give him nearly enough. It took years for her to realize they'd left him out of her "favorite" family painting, the flashbacks in "Dias de las Madres" suggest that she was unaware of just how lonely and vulnerable baby!Esteban was even knowing that he had just lost his parents, she gives a pretty clear impression of Elena being her favorite grandchild ( even before Esteban's secret comes out) which I am sure did *wonders* on baby!Esteban's already fragile self-esteem, and in "Coronation Day," even after she knows that Esteban helped save the kingdom (including both her and Elena), she still side-eyes Elena when Elena says that she has forgiven Esteban. tfw you sacrifice your life for your cousin's (who is also your grandma's fave) and risk it again to banish the evil time spirit, but it's still not enough to earn a long-overdue hug from your granny.

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

Give him very specific and sexual Shuriki-related trauma. I mean to be fair, it's not that I enjoy it so much. It's just there in my head and it happens even when I try to make fluffy and silly little plot bunnies. I would say my favorite thing that I actually enjoy doing and make an effort to do is just aggressively validate him and his feelings since he doesn't really get much of that in canon. I like having characters tell him how much he means to them, and I like for them to genuinely mean it. I like to tell him that he is capable of being loved (romantically and/or platonically ) and has the right to be loved. I like for people to recognize that he has been through so damn much and is still living with the scars that the Dark Times have left on his mind, heart, and soul. I like for other characters to come out and tell him that he's important to them, that he's fundamentally a good and worthy person even if a flawed one who lost his way for awhile, I like having characters tells him that they enjoy his company. And perhaps, most of all, I like having characters (especially Elena. but also Victor, Naomi, and probably anyone else) feel protective of him. To have them promise to take care of him and make sure that he never has to feel alone, forgotten, unloved, or helpless ever again. So basically, my favorite thing to do is aggressively project onto him and give him all the sorts of things I would want for myself as wish-fulfillment.

My least favorite thing that I sometimes see done in fic is when past (or present) Shuriki/Esteban is genuinely romanticized (as opposed to treated as inherently abusive/dubiously consensual). When their feelings are assumed to be mutual, genuine, healthy (if admittedly unconventional/unexpected), and redemptive. Particularly when Esteban tries to "save" Shuriki from Elena and/or "redeem" her from her prison cell, because he loves Shuriki/knows that she isn't really "all bad." Because no, in my view, Shuriki is far beyond any hope of redemption, and no one in Avalor would know that more than Esteban, who was forced to stay by her side and serve her for 41 years.

Now, I do think it's possible that Esteban may have developed a little bit of Stockholm syndrome towards Shuriki, based on the length of time they worked closely together, how utterly dependent on her that he had to be just in order to survive, and how desperate he's always been for just a little bit of attention/affection. But again this wouldn't be real, genuine love. At most, it would be physical attraction, and a conditioned learned dependency on her as a survival mechanism. And given the huge power imbalance between them, there's also this inevitable question of any physical and/or emotional relationship being built on a foundation of dubious consent and sexual harassment (at best).

Given that Shuriki does seem shocked and genuinely hurt when Esteban finally stands up to her in "Secret of Avalor," I think it's also possible that she did grow to care for him as much as she could possibly care for anyone. But I also think that the closest to "love" that it's possible for her to feel is casual affection (similar to what one might feel for a favorite toy) or possessive lust.

And um... so no, I do not think Shuriki is capable of love and even if she was, I don't think it would be possible for her to be rehabilitated by/through love. And even if she was, Esteban is the absolute last person I would want to do said rehabilitation work.

Shuriki personally murdered multiple members of Esteban's family, conquered and terrorized his country, and then made him do all the work of managing Avalor while giving him none of the credit. He was a stupid teenager when they met (and from what we can tell, she seems to have been at least 5-10 years older than him...possibly a lot more if she'd already started magically de-aging herself), . As such, she easily manipulated him by preying on his youth, insecurity, and naivety. (Honestly, they give me BIG "Edmund Pevensie and Jadis the White Witch" energy. Baby!Esteban was a bit older and presumably *a bit* smarter than Edmund, but still very naive and very vulnerable and therefore very susceptible to the corruptive powers of someone significantly older, crueler, and more powerful than he. )

So, it makes me super sad and uncomfy to think about Esteban wanting to be and being responsible for personally saving the life/ soul of the person who has corrupted and controlled every aspect of his life since he was 17-18. He deserves better than that. Even if I still like giving him extra trauma and having him wrestle with it.

#elena of avalor #esteban flores #chancellor esteban #even if no one else got me; i know the crystal well of takaina got me #do i hear an amen to that?#so much enrichment for my literature major enclosure provided by such a silly little plot device #ah yes : the crystal well of soulmate coding; narrative foils; and symbolic deus ex machina #we've all seen it #anti-esteriki #well only anti in the way that its sometimes shipped; i do enjoy the really dark content #it makes for peak esteban woobification #i just want him to be peak sad pretty boy with his enormous and pretty 'sad boy' eyes

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cursedmagician · 2 months ago

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> PROCESSING [ABOUT ME]… ENTER CREDENTIALS.

asks: open

art requests: open (no nsfw or proship)

welcome to my blog everyone! i’m glad you’re here because i’ve been meaning to post here for an… unceremoniously long time. here are some things that you should know about me!

ABOUT ME !!!1!1!! POW POW POW

you can call me magician or holograph, my pronouns are he/they and i’m 14 years old and taken already… sorry ladies…

MY OTHER SOCIALS!!

insta: cursed.magician

pinterest: thecursedmagician

twitter: illumigraph

spacehey: https://spacehey.com/cursedmagician

i’m a pretty weird person you can deeefinitely tell!! i’m like the stereotypical weird kid because i make fanfiction fanart fan merch fan EEEVERYTHING and i like shipping, like how much worse can i get /silly XD

i love fixating on things for weeks at a time before completely forgetting about them, but i never ever forget… and they can be revived very easily…

i’m also a huge nerd which is gonna blatantly obvious by the time you read my interests section but i LOVE ranting about this stuff so feel free to chat with me hehe

yes, i have a golden retriever personality so. please talk to me PLEASE I WANT TO MEET COOL PEOPLE i promise i don’t bite :3

im always looking for new friends to talk to! that being said, sometimes i can get kind of inactive for periods of time but not for long I PROMISE!!!!

⋆ ★ BYF:

i tend to use a lot of flashing imagery and eye straining colours!

you will see me talk about triggering topics sometimes here. my art may also include triggering topics, so i will add a trigger warning if it does have those.

i’m pretty sarcastic and can make offensive jokes, however i do use tone tags to indicate as such. feel free to use tone tags on me too!

at the time of writing i still have no idea how to interact with people on tumblr since i never really used it much before. if i get things wrong, do tell me :P

this is a pretty fandom focused blog. i cant help it, but yes there will be a lot of fandom posting and shipping and everything like that. i might try to keep it balanced but i won’t try too hard because i’m just gonna post whatever i want here

⋆ ★ interests:

object shows, gravity falls, south park, amphibia, toh, ok ko, scott pilgrim, chainsaw man, wonder egg priority, murder drones, tadc, fnaf, omori, undertale, deltarune, oneshot, hello charlotte, tloz, pokemon, sonic, ultrakill, geometry dash, regretevator, backrooms, scp

drawing, writing, voice acting, video editing, animating, math (especially different ratios and algebraic formulas), old web, old technology, computer/game history, nostalgia, dark web, computer science, building computers, brain rot on instagram reels 🤤

⋆ ★ DNI

basic dni, nsfw, people who are just going to make fun of/harass me, people against my interests (this means you are actively against it, not just uncaring about it), people who are just going to get on my nerves, close minded people, genuinely narcissistic people, people who sexualise EVERYTHING GRRR

TAGS (more may be added later?) ⊹ ࣪ ˖

magician.iso - life, journal sort of thing and general posts ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

sketchbook.folder - serious art, official art and all that jazz ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

scrapbook.folder - sketches, studies, and other misc art ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

stage.drive - rambling and yapping because i’m a chronic yapper bro ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

type.txt - writing of any kind! may include links ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

ENJOI MY BLOG !!

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the-francakes · 2 years ago

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Welcome to tumblr now what...

Hi, I wrote this up for my cousin because she’s never used any platform, but since a lot of twitter users are coming to tumblr, I thought I would share as someone that has been here... way too long. This blog might only be a year old, but i lived through tumblarity. both times. ugh.

cause i will use this interchangeably and forget to clarify, tumblr dash (short for dashboard) is more or less the same as twitter feed.

likes - these are a thumbs up. A nice little ‘hey this post is cool!’ or ‘i agree with this post.’ users can elect in settings to have their likes visibly on their page, meaning when you go to their actual tumblr, theres a link to liked posts. however, i have always disabled this in the same vein that none of you will ever see my ao3 history. if you get a like, you’ll get notified, but that’s all it really does in the grand scheme of things.

reblogs - if theres a post you want to share, reblog it. reblogging it puts it on the dash (feed) of anyone that follows you. tumblr does have a setting to see popular posts, ‘in your orbit,’ or ‘for you’ as in things it thinks you may like. it has a setting for recommended posts into your feed. i, and mostly everyone i know, disable these features and rely solely on their dash. so assume if you’re reblogging this post, you’re sharing it to make sure the people that follow you also see it. if no one reblogs this post, then only the 150 people that follow me will see it and it will die. which is totally cool. im rambling all over this shit and forgot what capital letters are. its probably half wrong anyways.

some people will say always reblog instead of like. i think its give or take. it depends on what you like, what you want to share, you’re weird taste in shit you want people to know about and not know. if you reblog, you will make sure more people see something wonderful and its a really lovely and free way to help writers, artists, etc. spread their art.

commenting on a reblog - its not necessary. I probably do it once in a blue moon these days. adding a comment in your reblog is like jumping into the conversation. usually i reserve this for things that are important and want others to build on as well. or continue the shitpost cause i like to think im funny sometimes. if its something like my bullshit commentary that really does not apply to anything in the post or i dont want spread on everyone’s dash as they go on to reblog it, i write it in the tags. for example, please reblog this and add anything i missed that helps you navigate tumblr. write in the tag if you think its bullshit and i should delete.

replies - replies were made because when they didn’t exist, people would have ‘dash conversations’ by reblogging one post over and over and over and over again. it would be a post of 50+ posts of two people having a conversation and about things like is it red or blood orange. this was especially awful in rp when sometimes posts would only be a few sentences asking ‘hey whats up how are you.’ so use a reply if you want to tell the original poster something, but youre not adding onto the post. a good reply to this post would be a ‘thanks for posting this’ but a good reblog with a comment would be ‘i agree, but also you forgot this important bit!’

something different than twitter (i think???) - your replies do not just show up on someone’s dash. they have to click the little word bubble on the post to read them.

tagging - tagging someone with an @ will give them a notification that you mentioned them in your post. you can also tag in replies. you don’t need to tag the original poster in a reply because they will get a notif that says ‘___ replied to your post.’ my brain is fuzzy here, but i believe if you put a reply on a post that is a reblog, both the current poster/reblogger and the original poster will get notifs. i only say this cause some people get annoyed by too much tagging, but as someone that doesnt give a shit, just always tag me. tumblr eats shit or doesnt work sometimes, so just blow up my notifs.

asks/submit - some people enable you to ask or submit posts. when they answer the ask or approve the submission, it will end up as a post on their dash. if the ask is not anon, they can also reply privately. a lot of people do not allow anons these days because while tumblr is one of the better social medias ive encountered, there are still some assholes that like to send hate anons. and i will say this for the people skimming this - ASKS GET EATEN. aka they disappear from asks boxes or don’t even show up. if someone says they didn’t get it, there’s probably like an 80% chance they are not lying. there’s a 20% chance they are and don’t want to answer it but like that’s their choice too.

messaging - for the new kids, this is DMing. for the cool kids in back, this feature was enabled cause aol took aim away from us. this caused a huge panic of how do we privately talk to our friends since while replies are okay for convos, anyone can see them and tbh can get cumbersome for longer communication. i use this feature a lot to send my friends posts that i need to make sure they see. maybe its not my sort of content id reblog, but i know for a sure thing they will love it, so im passing it along for them to reblog, laugh at, tell me im an asshole cause its a meme making fun of them, etc.

ask games - sometimes people reblog posts that say SEND ME A NUMBER and theres a list of numbered questions. as i grew up here in roleplay, i was taught it was good tumblr etiquette to always send numbers to the person you reblogged from. I was also taught just to send numbers if you see them cause you’re cultivating friendships here and maybe you don’t know the person, but TRUST ME, they will love and appreciate you took the time to get to know them just a little. its not hard to send 1-5 and then fuck off but it will give them something fun to do and maybe make their entire day so.. send the numbers.

WHAT YOU SHOULD PAY ATTENTION TO: who interacts with your posts a lot. do you see the same username liking your things? does the person reply a lot. FOLLOW THEM! reply to their posts! fangirl from afar and send a shy ask saying hi i love you. propose on the dash. answer their questions. become FRIENDS. we’re all the weird kids here so don’t worry, we love you already.

WHAT NOT TO DO: NEVER STEAL POSTS OR CONTENT. this means, you see a pretty piece of art- reblog it. do not right click, copy link to image, and make your own post. love a passage someone wrote? see a HILARIOUS joke? do not copy and paste it into your own post. If you feel in someway you NEED to do this, contact the original poster, ask permission and how they want to be credited. you might have to link to their tumblr, you might have to link to their tumblr, ig, ao3, website, mom’s best friends snapchat, whatever... you listen to how they want to be credited and respect it. and if they say no? go reblog it and sit down. this is the same how you would never copy and paste someone’s tweet and say it as your own. or would you???? is that a thing??? maybe i shouldn’t be helping you come here...

ALSO, JUST LIKE AO3, NOTES MEAN NOTHING. a lot of notes does not mean its a great post. Something can have 500 notes and its two friends shitposting ‘hi’ back and forth in the replies 250 times each. and yes, this has happened before and will happen again because this is a hellscape.

crabs/april fools/tumblarity/fonts and colors/xkit - you know how in YOU they have those like seven totems of living in LA? same concept except when you understand it all, you’re cursed to live here forever. you’re welcome.

--- --- ---

please expand, add to this, tell me im wrong, tell me to get off tiktok cause i need to stop yelling at children to let me love my favorite ships idc what canon says.

the good news is, if you think you’re doing it wrong, then youre using tumblr right. people might say don’t use it like a diary, but you bet ill write a long ass post venting about my depression and/or that my sock has a hole in the toe. people say posts have to have content and length... brevity is the soul of wit or whatever and i love a good shitpost and i will reblog a post that is legit ‘wish i could pet a dog today.’

#tumblr #twitter #don't forget to feed your horse

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strange-creature-222 · 1 year ago

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HELLO, WELCOME, WHY DON'T YOU TAKE A SEAT? RELAX, GET COMFORTABLE, TAKE A SECOND IF YOU NEED TO

Here's my little blog site thingy, I'd recommend using it while viewing my blog, so the posts aren't annoying white blocks

Y'all can call me Creature, Archivist, or scourge , I go by it/they pronouns, as well as any neopronouns

MORE INFO BELOW [warnings, interests, tags, blinkies, and is that a playlist of songs I like?]

One: GENERAL WARNING FOR INSECTS, ARACHNIDS, AND OTHER CRITTERS IN THIS BLOG

I SHOULD ALSO ADD THAT IM REALLY INTERESTED IN JUST ABOUT ANY OTHER ANIMAL THAT PEOPLE FIND SCARY

Two: this is my only account, I don't have a side blog or art blog right now, if you specifically want to see my art you can use my art tag (tags listed below)

Three: I block freely so I'm not writing a big dni, don't interact if you fall under basic dni criteria (racists, pedos, nazis, etc. You know who you are), terfs don't interact (although I don't see why you decided to come here in the first place)

Four: WARNING FOR EYESTRAIN!!!! I LIKE BRIGHT COLORS!!!! Oh and eyes, A lot of eyes

I tend to avoid flashing lights, they don't cause me pain but they're really annoying

If I should start tagging stuff as warnings just ask <3 I might not be amazing at it but I'll try

SOME STUFF IM INTERESTED IN

Wings of fire*

Will wood*

Warrior cats*

Wander over yonder

Lemon demon*

Animaniacs

Ride the cyclone

Hamilton

The beetlejuice musical

The Jekyll and Hyde musical*

Tally hall

Miracle musical

Jack stauber

Lackadaisy

Gravity falls

Across the spider-verse

Birds (mainly birds of prey)

Sea Creatures

Bugs

animals that people find scary in general

Fossils

history

Space

Rats

My chemical romance*

The owl house

The strange case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde*

The glass scientists*

The Magnus Archives*

A bunch of other things

*starred interests are ones I mainly post about*

MUSIC

MY TAGS

MY ART POSTS

#creature draws : this one has my art!

#creatures neon dragons : this one has some simple brightly colored sketches of dragons on a black background (im not sure I'm continuing this, all posts here are old)

#super cool art : other peoples art that I reblog

#creatures comic collection: comics that I reblog, I will still also put comics in the art tag

MY TEXT POSTS

#creatures ted-talks / #creatures ted talks : these have my text posts, stuff where I talk (I don't do so very often)

#creature answers : this one has my answers to asks and responses to tags

MY REBLOG STUFF

#creature rambles In someone else's post : self explanatory, I talk in someone else's post

#very important post (vip) : this one has posts I find important, nowadays I stick to things with helpful links

#creatures faves : posts I really like

#creatures faves² : posts I really really like

#creatures saved files : this one has things I want to save for later

#creatures saved files art edition : art tips and color palettes I wanna save

INTERESTS

#wee woo : will wood related stuff

#silly music people doing silly things : other musician related stuff (where you'll find lemon demon and mcr posts grouped together, yaaayy!!)

#casualdejekyll and formaldehyde : Jekyll and Hyde related stuff

#Normal British archives : The Magnus Archives related stuff

#wof of fire : wings of fire related stuff

#warrior kitty cats : warrior cats related stuff

(edit 2/20/24 THEY TOOK THE YELLOW TEXT AWAY WHAT THE FUCK)

Any now for a collection of blinkies and banners (credits in tags)

HERE'S MY PRONOUNS PAGE, THIS HAS MY NAMES, PRONOUNS, WHAT WORDS YOU SHOULD CALL ME, AND OTHER QUEER STUFF

#I recommend checking in here every once in a while because I update this post every so often (just check to see the latest update ↓)#Update 8/12/24 - added Scourge to list of names (idk why I didn't add it before). Added playlist. Changed the wording of some bits #First set of blinkies by murderofsomeone #Second set by Butterscotch-goat #Third set by radiotrophicfungi #fourth set (blinkers and stamps) by engravedlives #Ok I might try to find somewhere to throw these things because tumblrs limitations are making me wanna bite and claw #Spotify

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owlispls · 2 years ago

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👁 I heard you can info dump about colors

Oh yes I do 👀

So in your post here (x) you asked: "I wonder what makes things "go together" like, why do some colors look nice together and some don't? and why do they look good to others? why do we have favorite colors?" let me go over them one by one!

Important: this is an info dump. I learned a lot of this in school from my apprenticeship (Graphic Design digital and print)… though even before that it has been a special interest of mine. Though I am also a student and focussed on giving out scientific accurate information. So I linked sources and fact checked my knowledge (new information always welcome 👀✨). Also: my first language is not English and I was taught British English in school, so… please be kind.

To make the post a little less of a "do you like the colours of the sky"-long post, you can keep reading here after the keep reading-break 🧡

"why do some colors look nice together and some don't?"

First: the colour wheel(s)

I know, I know, we always have to look at the colour wheels first. Though… they are an extremely crucial part of this, so understanding them, where they come from and such, already brings you close to find your colour palettes ;W;

There are basically two different colour wheels. In colour theory history there have been a few different wheels (for more research if you like: 1704: Newton, 1810: Goethe … there are more, but these are most important) you will see both of them being used in different context.

First: RGB colour wheel (by DanPMK on Wikipedia CC BY-SA)

Triad of Red, Green and Blue (based on Newton).

Based on the additive colour scheme.

Used in lighting, digital colours and screens.

Yellow is on the opposite of Blue.

Digital art programs use the RBG model, so those usually go with this one.

Little CMYK ramble: When you look in between of the RGB triad, you find CMY, which IS based on RGB, since this is how body/phisical colours, light and our eyes work together. The added "K" is … Key, aka Black, since in printing you can't just print 3 colours in 100% onto each other. First of all: it will be a very muddy green-brownish almost-black colour, while it also takes too long to dry, will smudge, clog up the printing machines, which then need more cleaning… and trust me… any printer will call you and tell you to change the colours, so you don't have 300% "dot gain" aka "total ink application".

Second: RYB colour wheel (by Kwamikagami on Wikipedia CC BY-SA)

Triad of Red, Yellow and Blue (based on Goethe).

Based on the subtractive colour scheme.

Used with physical colours, paintings, for artistic understanding

Yellow is on the opposite of Purple.

You find this wheel ONLY in general artistry and most sites that talk about contrasts will use this one.

source: Wikipedia (shhhh~) | I… basically described the pictures | Bauhaus

Quick vocabulary check in:

Hue — Fully saturated colour on the wheel. No white or black has been added.

Shade — adding black to a base hue (deepens the colour down to black) — it changes the Saturation.

Saturation — intensity/purity of the colour

Tint — adding white to a base hue (softens the colour to pastel up to white) — changes the Luminance.

Luminance — brightness/light in a colour

Tones — adding grey to a base hue(subtles down the colour, but can also add complexities into it) — another saturation change!

source: Canva

Harmonies err… Colour Contrast

We finally get to talk about colour harmonies, or from now on: contrasts. Since harmonies are neatly tied to contrasts. There is no "one way" to this, there are many, and also: you can (and should) combine them.

Monochromatic

You choose your colour and then run with it. You only add white to it. The deepest hue is usually the one you chose or you add black to it, to make it darker.

Complementary

Probably one of the contrasts that are being utilised or talked about most. You use one of the two colour wheels and basically pick one colour and then pick the colour of the opposite side.

Split Complementary

You choose one colour, and then go to the complementary colour, to just use the two right next to that one.

Triadic/Tetradic

Basically you use the three or four colours on the wheel, that are equally spaced from each other.

sources: Dulux

General Contrasting — adding harmony edition ✨

Since these where just the ABSOLUTE basics, and there is no (literal) nuance to these, those contrasts might work with each other, but the problem is: they all have the same value. They are just fully saturated hues that kind of scream at you and there can't be a harmony this way.

warm/cool and light/dark

You contrast your art with warm and cool colours. Basically, if you have a generally cool toned picture, the warm tones will pop out and these will be your eye-catcher.

opacity/transparency

The deepest hue is the hue you choose, you basically turn down the opacity, letting the hue below shine through as well.

all sources: Bauhaus | Dulux | Canva | Wikipedia

Some things I do

No srsly. This is the part, where I am giving advice that is based on what works FOR ME. If you want to do things differently or want to get more advice from different artists, to find your ways, please go ahead and look up some more. It is important to find the way for colouring you have the most fun with. It is your art after all, I will not set "do's" and "don't-s" bullshit rules.

If you have a colour palette you are generally happy with, but the colours still seem a little "off" to you? traditional ways: -> with opaque colours: make an underpainting with a colour you'd love to pair your palette with -> with water colours/ink: a very thin colour coat over the whole painting (make sure to use masking-fluid for parts you want to keep white) digital way: -> open another layer -> set it on "overlay" -> throw a colour you like over it, that will fit the vibe — I often use some colour psychology and a colour association that fits the vibe -> turn down the opacity, until you are happy with it 👀

Using one prominent colour as an eye catcher and then use it ONLY for the exact part you want to draw (huehue) attention to -> most affective if it has a little higher saturation than the rest of your palette -> also PERFECT moment to find a complementary/warm&cool contrast to the rest of the painting

Shadow tipps

(digital) I figured, that shadows work pretty well by using a complementary colour on a multiply layer and then just turning down the opacity of that layer (you can layer those as much as you like)

10-30% for the contrast to not mix too much or become muddy.

With shading I do the same percentage "rule", while also using a complementary or warm-to-cool/cool-to-warm colour contrast, for more definition.

Have some cool (and free) tools!

PuccaNoodle — Animation/Art Ressource Sheet -> there are so so SO many more tools in this sheet. Seriously, I absolutely recommend AT LEAST looking through the different sheets

Colour Picker Tools -> Adobe Color — colour wheel/colour palette generator -> Canva — colour wheel/calculator -> Coolors — random color palette generator -> Flat UI Colors — assortmend of different UI flat-colour palettes -> Paletton — colour scheme designer

Skin tones -> by FizzyGutz on twitter — thread -> by Kupadraws on twitter — thread -> by @peachdeluxe — post

Colour theory -> by DevinKorwin on twitter — thread

_________________

Next Up: why do they look good to others? why do we have favorite colors?

Since I basically wanted to put these in here as well, but… the post is already extremely long, I will split these ;w;

There will be colour psychology involved!

#answered #snobgoblin #shapes and colours #I will answer the rest of your questions as well #I just… need a breather :D #and this is already so incredibly long #AAAAAAA #I AM FINALLY DONE WITH THE FIRST PART EEP #info dump

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thedeadflag · 3 years ago

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I’m so confused! I know it’s not your responsibility to educate me but in your post bringing awareness to the negative aspects of g!p fanfic you say

“Why do these g!p characters rarely if ever involve experiences reflective of trans/intersex women? Why are they so utterly cis and perisex-washed? Why do nearly all writers have zero idea that tucking is a thing? “

Doesn’t that answer your original question? The reason they don’t reflect those groups of ppl is bc g!p isn’t trying to represent those groups of people or else it WOULD be transphobic to limit them to one specific fetish right? it just refers to a canonically female character with the addition of a penis (I don’t argue the name “g!p” should be changed bc that’s a no brainer why that could be offensive). But the fanfic in general, how could it be harmful? I’ve noticed in my time reading it as a non binary person it’s given me great gender euphoria reading a reader insert where reader has a penis while being a femme representing person just bc that’s a reflection of my personal experience. I don’t see anywhere where g!p fanfic ever references or tries to emulate the experiences of trans or intersex people so how could it be offensive?

Sorry this is way too long I’m just very confused

I'm going to try and lay this out as politely as I can. It's after 3:30 in the morning here, so this could be a bit disjointed and rambling. More under the cut:

In real life, ~99.999999% of women with penises are trans women. Which puts us in a tricky situation of (A) being the only women with penises around for media involving women with penises to reflect back on, and (B) being in the lovely position of precious few people actually having had meaningful real life exposure to trans women, meaning (C.) all those stigmas and all that misinformation are going to purely affect us and it’s going to be uncritically gobbled up by the masses, since they don’t have any meaningful information to fill in the blanks with instead.

When we peer into the depths of femslash fandoms and see all these folks who aren't trans women writing about women with penises, and using cis women’s bodies as platforms for these penises, it’s the simplest thing.

I mean, some of those folks might actually be struggling and confused about why they’re into it, what the real appeal is, why they get off on it, why they might have some feelings about wanting a penis of their own…

…but from our vantage point, it’s really easy to gauge 99.99% of the time. We can generally see valid, legitimate yearning to have a penis pretty damn easily in a piece of art/writing, and we can also see when people who create this media are just hung up on a boatload of baggage and fetishization.

And 99.9% of the time, the creators are just hung up on a boatload of baggage and fetishization, and see trans women’s bodies as a perfect vehicle to tap into that, generally due to deeply held cissexist views that link us and our bodies and genitals directly to cis men, to maleness. As if penises are rooted in maleness and masculinity (which is absolutely not true).

And I have sympathy for NB folks (certainly TME ones who have reached out to me in the past about this) who might be struggling with that, but just because they’re non-binary, it doesn’t mean they get to appropriate our bodies and reproduce transmisogyny and trans fetishization in their attempts at feeling better. Shit doesn't work like that.

Because again, the only women with penises in this world, essentially, are trans women. Meaning any woman with a penis in media is a trans woman, implicitly or explicitly. Meaning that when people who aren’t us want to write us, intent doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter if it’s just the writer’s fantasy, it’s still going to attach a variety of messages directly onto us.

And more often than not, due to cissexism, those messages are linking us to maleness, to toxic masculinity, etc..

While I do want to believe they're a fairly small minority, a lot of NB folks in fandom spaces like g!p characters in part because they see penises as male and the rest of the body as female and think that duality is interesting and would be comfortable, and is a nice balance of “both worlds” or a nice position “between male and female”, but that’s a wholly cissexist, transmisogynistic view to have, and it’s one that absolutely cannot be supported without directing sexual violence against trans women and invalidating our entire existence. Certainly not all NB folks into g!p like it for that reason, but holy shit a fair bit of them do and it’s weird and wrong and fetishistic.

g!p emerged from the idea that women can't have penises, and drew on the transmisogyny and cissexism of tr*nny porn to structure that frame of desire and the core patterns and trends within these works. It's always been trans women's bodies being used as a vehicle, whether or not the writers of these fics are explicitly aware of it, because the trope itself still holds true to its original patterns and cissexism. It's not the name that's the problem, it's the content; changing the name would be a surface level change that wouldn't affect anything.

g!p objectifies women with penises (trans women). A woman with a penis is more than just a woman with a penis, but the use of the term and trope is literally to (A) remind people that women don't have penises, otherwise the g!p term wouldn't be needed if people actually accepted women with penises as women, and that (B) this is a story centered on a scenario where there's a woman with a penis, with key focus on that genitalia specifically. it's the drawing point, it's the lure, it's what everything is centered on. It is a means for folks to write lesbian sex while also writing about penis in vagina and getting off to it. It's also no surprise that the penises so clearly emulate cis men's penises in these works, that is by design.

As I’ve said many times before, if you’re only writing trans women’s bodies to showcase cis men’s penises, you’re not respecting the womanhood of trans women, and this ultimately has nothing inherent to do with penis-owning women, it has to do with (cis) men and their penises, because trans women are just being used as a vehicle to emulate them. When NB folks do the same thing, and imagining themselves as those g!p characters, they are ultimately embodying cis men, their maleness, and often toxic masculinity, in a way that feels safe and distanced enough for them, a shell that they often code as cisnormative due to their own unprocessed cissexism.

And trans women don’t deserve that.

You seem caught in the idea that if something doesn't directly perfectly reflect trans women, that it can't be linked to us., which ignores the long long history of media being used to misrepresent marginalized peoples and cast us in insulting, dehumanizing lights. You show a lack of understanding of the g!p trope and the long history of its usage across a few other names, even if the content and patterns remained the same. It shows a lack of understanding of tr*nny porn and transmisogynistic stigmas, which the trope draws heavily from.

I think we can all recognize that most 'lesbian' prn that's made does not represent actual lesbians, it's overwhelmingly catered to the male gaze. We can also recognize that this category of porn has led to a lot of harassment towards lesbians from cis men who at the very least want to believe lesbians are just like they are in the porn he watches, that lesbians just need the right man. Lesbians are being used as a vehicle for a fantasy that was created externally to them, and doesn't represent their realities.

It's the same kind of situation here. The way g!p fics play out overwhelmingly doesn't reflect trans women's realities, but they are inherently linked to us regardless, as we're the vehicles for those fantasies, as unrealistic and harmful as they may be.

g!p characters are built in our fetishized image that’s based on a deeply cissexist misunderstanding of us, of the gender binary, and of bodies in general.

I mean, when 99% of cis folks don’t understand how trans women tend to be sexually intimate… when they don’t understand what dysphoria is and how it works and how it can affect us physically and emotionally…when they don’t understand almost any of our lived experiences…then they’re not going to be able to accurately portray us even if they wanted to.

And I’ve read enough g!p fics where authors wrote those as a means of trying to add trans rep, but because they didn’t understand us at all, it wasn’t remotely representative, and it was ultimately fetishistic, even if there was an undercurrent of sympathy and a lack of following certain common g!p patterns there that differentiated it from the norm.

If g!p fics were at all about reducing dysphoria or finding euphoria, then it wouldn’t be explicitly tied up in the performance of very specific sex acts, very specific forms of misogyny and toxic masculinity, very specific forms of sexual violence and exertion of sexual power, etc.

But it is.

So the notion that creating g!p fics helps NB folks? Nope. It CAN certainly prevent/delay those folks from facing a whole boatload of shit they’ve internalized, and coddle them at the expense of trans women.

Because if it was really about bodies and dysphoria/euphoria, there would be a considerable push (allying with out own) to end our fetishization and to represent us in and out of sexual contexts with accuracy, respect, and care. Because they wouldn’t care what sex acts were performed and what smut beats were hit, they’d just want to see someone with a body like their ideal being loved, being sexual, connecting, being authentic, etc. Which very much is not the case in the overwhelming majority of g!p fics. That's what we want, and it's not what g!p writers want, it's nothing they give a shit about.

Like, a ways back I started doing random pulls of g!p fics from various fandoms and assessing them for certain elements to provide some quantitative clarity. I started on The 100 here, and did OuaT here. Never finished the 100 one since the results leveled out and stayed pretty consistent as the sample size grew, so I didn't really see the point in continuing any further after about 140 fics when the data wasn't really changing much at all.

Lastly, media influences people. I've read countless posts and comments from people who use fanfiction as a sex ed guide, in essence. Which is ridiculous, but I also know sex ed curricula often isn't very accurate or extensive in a lot of areas, so people take what they can get. Representation in media can be powerful, and when it overwhelmingly misrepresents people, that's also powerful. Just because fandom is a bit smaller than televised media, it doesn't make that impact any lesser, certainly not for those whose primary media intake is within fandom.

Virtually all trans representation in f/f fanfiction is misrepresentative of us. That has a cost in how people understand us, how people react to us, and how people treat us. Not just online, but in physical spaces, and in intimate settings.

I invite you to read that post you referenced again, or perhaps this longer one which is a response to a trans guy who seemed to feel something similar to you with this trope.

All I can do is lay it out there and try to explain this. It's up to you how you handle this. All I know is whenever there's a big surge in g!p in a fandom, trans women generally leave it en masse, because it's a very clear and consistent message that we're not valued, respected, and that people value getting off on us over finding community with us.

#g!p #creative responsibility #trans fetishization #trans representation #intersex fetishization #intersex representation #genitals tw #genital mention tw #intersexism #transmisogyny #fandom meta #long post #cissexism #t slur tw #media representation #media literacy

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jasperswriteblr · 3 years ago

Text

Hello! Welcome!

My name is Jasper and I have 0 idea of what I'm doing. I do not write as often as I should, but I'm hoping to change that.

My main account is @flickerstone !

I'll update this over time, and add links to posts and whatnot.

Currently Fixated On: Glass and Sand

General tags or tag formats I'll frequently use!

#other peoples writing (or) #promotional

#reblogged from main (will usually be art)

#jaspers random rambles (for talking about whatever)

#jaspers writeblr writing

#jaspers writeblr art

#misc story

#jaspers thoughts

#tmwow writing tag

#jaspers writeblr ocs

#relateable reblogs (for stuff I relate to)

#reblogged advice

#resources

#oc [name] reblog (reblogged stuff that fits an oc)

#oc [name] (for when I talk about specific ocs)

#worldbuilding

#creatures of almera

#tw [insert sensitive topic]

#cw [insert sensitive content]

(I will automatically tag mentions of things like suicide, anything shared that may trigger seizures (#cw flashing lights), and other things I may think of. If you need other things tagged, I'll add it to the list!)

Story Tags

#glass and sand

#glass and sand wips

#glass and sand rambles

#glass and sand info

Important

I Do Not support:

- proshipping or any romanticism of abusive or pedophilic relationships

- right-wing politics

- terfs

I Do support:

- those on the asexual or aromantic spectrum, and pansexuality and bisexuality

- nonbinary people, neopronouns

- literally just making the world a kinder place tbh

You Are Welcome To:

- Send asks or submissions

- Ask about ocs, writing, or whatever

- Comment. I try to be as kind as possible.

The Almera Series

I mostly focus on a fantasy setting I've been developing for several years. It has several interconnecting stories that mainly take place on the continent of Almera, containing 5 countries and wartorn histories. There's a developing pantheon, two mortal species (Humans and Ceul), magic, monsters, and some other wacky things. The stories I'm developing take place over centuries. There are many kinks to work out.

TAS WIPS (hyperlinks included):

Links For TAS (will update):

- Almeran Animals, Creatures, and Beings

-.....

- Glass and Sand Intro

That's it for now. Thank you! And welcome!

#jaspers random rambles #pinned post

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scoundrels-in-love · 4 years ago

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for the ask meme: 9, 32 & 49 please!

It’s only been 10 days... It’s only a guess which ask game you sent this for...! ^^; (I am basing it on the fact I read the questions and mused about them for this whole time so I am probably right about the game.) @nossbean

9. What are your favorite fanfics?

Oh no. Oh no. I could and should write POSTS upon POSTS about this.

But I haven’t, because I don’t have the energy to. So you get a cheat version of some of my random favorites from my last pages of my AO3 history. And few special shout outs.

@angel-deux-writes Worth is a wholeass gem and I haven’t commented yet, but I binged it basically today (with exception of first chapter) and I can’t stop yelling about it internally, because the way she says things!! She always has some of my favorite Brienne characterization I get so envious over. There is strength and pride in it, and vulnerability and fear and the acknowledgment that her self-loathing is unfounded yet how hard it is to defend yourself, even knowing all that. I could write essays about it and Angel’s stories in general. Anything by her is a treasure trove, truly.

@samirant Rush Me All Night Long is a fascinating concept, so very well executed and absolutely captivating. Makes me go slack-jawed with awe with how seamless it is. And beyond the craftsmanship of the story form itself, the contents are absolutely epic, too. Intrigue, growth of relationship, dash of humor that is right up my alley, lot of good other characters with their wonderful insights... Nothing to add or take away. Just great. And you KNOW you should check rest of her writing out, too. You won’t regret it.

@ajoblotofjunk is back with another subtly, but powerfully in-depth world story with Baby I Will. How many professions has she gotten degree in already? Because the way she weaves art of playing in bars is so organic. And oh, the connection between Jaime and Brienne... Electrifying, a storm that starts as static sparks as they brush past each other. And I can’t wait to watch it grow. (Also shout out to her absolutely beyond epic gift to me, Petrichor. Which is mindblowingly great and written at haste I cannot comprehend. It couldn’t be more tailored to me and I tear up just thinking about it.)

LadyRhiyana’s Stray Sparks II is the perfect example why I tell someone at least once a week “I wish I could LadyRhiyana this”. Her absolutely amazing skill to capture a whole setting, a whole world of emotions in sometimes as few as 5 to 10 sentences (and not the 30 word sort!) is just... Mesmerizing. I admire it so much and am typically absolutely enamored by her stories. Crossover is also in my history and I am absolutely head-over-heels for it.

@kurikaesu-haru Thirsty is the most endearing, captivating way to combine the two meanings of the word and I adore it to pieces. It’s fun and emotional and hot, and everything it could possibly need to be and then some, in best way possible. And her works contain more and more of gold mines, truly.

@firesign23 is a treasure, to this fandom and to me in particular, for many reasons. But her skill to devastate me with short stories is truly something else. Odd Socks (link to one of my favorite of the lot, but do give them all a read if you haven’t!) is what I have in my history, but I rec her as a writer 1000%. Her prompt fills are always poignant and not shy of ache and I can only marvel at them all. But also how could I miss out on mentioning her two breathtaking recent stories for fic exchange? Hold Steady is a Journey without ever leaving Winterfell, but the miles traveled by weary, worried, longing hearts in it... Oof. And, of course, I have to mention by hearts and hands made fast because it’s for me and it made me cry real tears more than once (!) and actually yell in real life, like no other story. Real and complicated as the characters deserve to be told, painful and comforting, absolutely breathtaking in the prose... I could rant for days, truly. And truly, wherever you look at her work, you’ll find more of it.

@aviss Skin Deep is just gem, gem, gem. Am I biased because she wrote for me, in a sense? Maybe. But she ACED it in ways I can barely comprehend. Everything I could wish for in the concept is there and more. Sweet pining, absolute besottery and realistic realizations and then hot, earnest resolutions... What a gem. As is rest of her works, really!

32. Past or present tense?

I used to be such a past tense snob. Nothing else for me, no sir. But now I write almost exclusively in present tense. I can’t tell when the shift happened, I think when I was 20 or few years older than that, and I don’t know why, I think I read a good fic, like really good one, and also was trying to bypass my writer’s block by switching it up. And I found a certain freedom in it. A sense that it makes sense for me to go deeper, to be in present turmoil and wax poetics about it for few paragraphs. Because it’s currently happening, instead of retelling if something that has been. It freed me more in past tense, too, though.

It’s odd I don’t remember how and why the shift happened, almost makes me feel sad.

Nowadays I mostly write in past tense because I get too caught up in flashback sort of sequences and can’t make it grammatically correct anymore so I switch everything to past tense. Tomorrow (with you) is prime example.

49. Where do you draw inspiration from?

Anything. The other day, I was bitterly laughing with a friend I could write a piece about stain on floor, create whole 1-3k word story about someone thinking about the stain, etc. Doesn’t matter if it has funny shape or not, known origin or not.

Most often, though, it’s prompts, it’s song lyrics, it’s some kind of thought/belief I have for character that I want to express/see them through some kind of event in way I think they would. Sometimes, it’s specific setting or watching something. Like, there was one (1) almost head-kiss in a kdrama with secret identities and I created a whole 10k word worth story idea off of it... Sometimes, it’s honestly even just a dumb, dumb post. But yes, music/feelings/prompts, I’d say are the main thing.

And as for inspiration drawn for writing itself... That’s a difficult question for me, right now. In kindest, non-rambly way I’d probably say what other people have lived and written.

Send me fanfic question?<3

#braime #braime ff rec #ask games answered #trying to remember what my rec tag was and failing...#nossbean #sent on a cloud

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ngame989 · 5 years ago

Text

“Promise” - TGG SVTFOE Fanfic Collection Ch. 1 (and Cleaved epilogue)

Writing: @ngame989

Art: @toxicpsychox (make sure to follow him for bonus pics from the story!)

Editing: @bmc-nightfury, @seddm, @dinodinodude

Alternate fic links - FFnet, AO3

Summary: Earth and Mewni are reunited, and so are Star and Marco. The Diazes and Butterflies both have their families back together. What will the future hold in this new world of theirs?

Comic Page

Masterpost

See below for the text, hope you enjoy!

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Star and Marco’s gazes remained unflinchingly fixed on each other, still feeling a bit out of breath from their recent exertions. They were close, so close, but neither made a move. They were here, together, and after all they’d been through it all seemed so fragile - taking that last step forward was change, and change wasn’t safe, and change could take it all away from them again. Perhaps it wasn’t rational to think that way, but reason meant nothing compared to the overwhelming relief, their chests rising and falling in unison for a few more seconds in this perfect moment where it seemed like nothing could go wrong.

Nothing, that is, until a brush burn running down the side of Marco’s leg flared up, causing him to jerk forward as his eyes shut in a grimace. Star let out a small yelp and instinctively dove forward, grabbing his arms to steady him.

“Marco, are you OK?” she warbled.

“Yeah, I just, uh, crashed a skateboard,” he sighed, then swallowed hard and took another moment to get his bearings. His body was a bit sore, but the emotional trembling in her voice was the sucker punch that made him nearly double over.

She helped him straighten up again, their eyes meeting once more. Before either of them could consciously recognize it, the invisible tension snapped as Star practically collapsed forward into Marco’s arms, burying her face in his chest. “I was so worried, I… I…” Between the muffling of his hoodie and her soft sobbing, any other words were lost. He steadied his footing and slowly caressed the back of her head. Her golden hair was ragged and he found his fingers getting so easily tangled and knotted in it, but it just made it feel that much more real - it made her just feel that much more real.

“It’s OK, I had a helmet,” he replied absentmindedly, as the feelings of dizziness and relief and love swam through his brain and left him in a daze. Star sputtered out a laugh amidst her tears at his response; when he finally processed his own words and chuckled as well, contagious laughter quickly overtook them both. Finally she pulled back, dropping her hands down to firmly grip onto his own, the gesture bringing immediate comfort to them both. “You’re here,” he muttered, mostly to try and keep himself grounded, but she heard nonetheless and nodded.

“With you. And you’re here with me.” Warmth surged in Marco’s chest as it all finally clicked and he tackled her, making her take a few steps back while she rubbed his back.

“You’re here,” he said again, shaking a little bit. “You’re here. I’m here! We’re here!” He continued repeating the refrain like a mantra, still leaning on Star whose own exclamations began to overlap with his. Wild smiles erupted on both of their faces as their bodies felt ready to explode with energy, rocking back and forth and eventually starting to turn in place. They spun until Marco felt his feet leave the ground, holding onto Star as they laughed and twirled and held onto each other even tighter than when an entire realm was about to collapse in on them, tears of pure relief seeping out from between closed eyelids and glittering in the air around them. Eventually Star felt a lurching in her stomach and slowed their movement, stopping with the help of Marco’s feet touching the ground.

“Star?”

“Note to self, don’t spin around after eating nothing but pudding,” she moaned, and Marco realized he was in a similar situation. “Also… where is here, exactly?”

A third shrill voice suddenly made itself present and caused the pair to jump apart. “No one knows!” They looked to their left to find Starfan13, eyes near filling up her head and jittering like she’d just had a dozen of Star’s most decadent sugaritos.

“Pegasus feathers, how long have you-”

“Who cares, are the two of you…” she trailed off, her voice getting breathier by the syllable.

Star and Marco looked sheepishly at each other and nodded. They couldn’t seem to decide between holding each other or interlocking their fingers, and they’d have laughed about the most welcome disagreement in history if they hadn’t been interrupted by Starfan’s sudden shriek as she passed out on the spot.

“Uh, Star? Is she OK? Should we call-”

“It’s fine, this has happened like a dozen times before. Let’s just help her up to that bench…” They stepped forward to help, but as soon as Star’s grip made contact, Starfan leapt back up to her feet.

“So did you two do this? Was it love magic? I bet it was love magic! Did you have to kiss so hard that everything went boom and dimensions collided and-”

Her words stunned them both into silence until the mention of dimensions, at which point they snapped to attention. They turned their heads in opposite directions to finally get a good look around them, tuning out the continued ranting, and their surroundings finally came into focus. Familiar castles and Earth mountains alike shared a skyline framed by the moons of Mewni, cars tried to navigate around monsters a few blocks away, and a herd of dragoncycles revved their wheels overhead. Star gasped as reality began to sink in.

“Marco, did… did we do this?” Star quietly inquired as Starfan stopped instantly to give the pair her full attention.

“I… I don’t know. Maybe when we were in the realm, the second time, before…”

“So it WAS you! Star and Marco magic, Star Marco magic... Starco magic! STARCO MAGIC! STARCO MAGIC STARCO MAGIC STARC-” The girl collapsed once more in a fit of hyperventilation, and this time stayed out cold while she was dragged to and laid down on the nearest bench. Star and Marco just stared at her for a few seconds; despite everything that had happened to them, this encounter somehow still left them feeling the most disturbed they’d been. Their stomachs growled in unison and broke the trance as they looked around.

Marco took her hand again as his eyes darted around their surroundings, trying to figure out what to do next. “OK, so we should definitely try to find everyone, but we should get something to eat or drink first…”

“Hey Marco, Stop n Slurp is right here!” Star motioned him to turn around and he finally noticed the glowing neon sign not far behind them, the building seemingly unperturbed by the dimensional fusion - and the clerk inside not paid enough to care about it. A few minutes later, they emerged with matching cotton candy slushies with red and blue swirls.

They began to stroll through the streets, hand in hand, occasionally leaning so close that they would bump into one another and stumble but welcoming the casual body contact more than anything else. Almost everyone seemed to have taken shelter to get away from the chaos at some point, but their mindless chatter and abundance of relieved coos and sighs was punctuated with the occasional scream, crash, or car horn as the minutes stretched on. Star leaned on Marco as they walked and stared up at him as he rambled on about their few minutes apart; she was eager to explore this new world of theirs, but in this moment her only world was him.

“...and then Janna stopped her pulse with a snap. Gosh, I hope she’s OK, maybe we should check on her-”

“She’s done weirder, Marco, trust me.”

“Yeah, but before that she said she was my friend and that you’re cooler than her.”

“OK, maybe there is something wrong with her,” she jokingly conceded. “Anyway, yeah, we should check on… well, everyone. Maybe we should start with your parents.”

Marco halted and turned towards her, raising his eyebrow. “You sure? What about your mom and Eclipsa? Well, um, I know stuff was kinda tense with your mom before…”

Star shrugged him off. “No, that’s all fine now, but I think they’ll be able to figure out what happened more easily. Besides, you said you were on a stretcher when they last saw you, right? We should let them know you’re OK.”

“Fine, but then we find your family next,” he acquiesced as he squeezed her hand and started walking again.

A dozen or so minutes later, as the Diaz household came into view, Marco could see that the merging had given them a lengthy new tract of land in their backyard. Wait, was that a miniature jungle next to the shed? He knew he should’ve been relieved that everything seemed OK, that nothing awful seemed to have happened, but a dread crept in instead. How would they react to everything being so different, now? He hadn’t- couldn’t have known this would happen, but now everything was so different and all their lives would be irrevocably changed and what if-

A hand caressed his cheek, stopping him in his tracks at the edge of the driveway as it wiped away a tear he didn’t realize he’d shed. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just…” His hand rose up to grab her own, still holding it to his face. “It’s finally kinda sinking in what happened, you know? And we’re about to see my parents, and… what will they think of all this? What will anyone think of this?”

“Marco...” she crooned understandingly. Whatever she was about to add was interrupted when the front door opened.

“OK, dear, I’ll check just to be safe…” the pair heard Rafael placatingly call back inside as he stepped out into the yard. They instinctively jumped back from each other a tiny bit, breaking the contact. His eyes went wide when he spotted them, but only for a second before he charged forward to sweep them both into a bear hug. “Oh, mijos, thank goodness you’re OK!”

Angie peeked her head outside next and she quickly joined the embrace, tears flowing down her cheeks and breaking Marco’s heart.

“Sorry I ran off, I just had to-” Marco murmured into his mom’s shoulder.

Angie cupped his face and smiled knowingly, and he didn’t miss her quick glance at Star a bit behind him. “Marco, honey, we understand. You’re both safe, and you’re here, and that’s all that matters.” There was a mischievous glint in their expressions as they led Star and Marco towards the house, who looked at each other quizzically in response.

“Uh, Mr. and Mrs. Diaz, is everything OK?” Star asked as the door shut behind them. A gasp was heard from the kitchen, and Moon appeared in the archway a second later. “Mom?”

"Star?" Another voice came from the top of the stairs, followed by the presence of Eclipsa a second later. The three gathered in the center of the living room as Star stammered incredulously into her mother's shoulder.

Eclipsa glanced over towards Marco, who felt like a weight had been taken off his shoulders as he took in the scene in front of him. "Marco, dear, won't you join us?" The ex-queen's voice startled him for a moment before he walked forward, being pulled into the embrace by the elder Butterflies.

“Pardon me for interrupting, but, um…” Angie trailed off as she got the attention of the others. “What exactly happened? Like, with everything?”

As the embrace ended, the group began to find seats around the living room, with Marco and Star seated next to Eclipsa on the couch and the others pulling over chairs from the dining room. “Well, uh, there was this this crazy buff warrior lady named Mina-” Star began before Eclipsa put an arm on her shoulder.

“We already caught them up with all of that, I think she means with… whatever exactly our new dimension is.”

Marco nervously looked at his parents, then at Star. He had to be honest, no matter what. She took his hand in hers and he swallowed hard, the adults’ attention fixed on him as he began. “Well, after they all managed to finish the spell to destroy the magic, the connections to all the dimensions started closing. Everyone else went through the Mewni one, and I… I dunno. The Earth well was right there, I was one step away but then I just… I couldn’t.” His voice cracked briefly, tears threatening to creep out of his eyes. Star gently leaned into him for comfort as Rafael held Angie. “Then the Mewni well closed, too, but Star came back a few minutes after, and there was this big flash of light, and then I woke up on Earth by Britta’s. And I guess whatever happened made that big portal everyone saw, and I just ran for it. Before I could get there, it exploded, or imploded, or something, and did all of this. Sooooo I guess that’s it.”

An uncomfortable silence lingered for a few moments. Marco fidgeted and was about to pull away from the situation entirely when Rafael scooted forward and put his firm hand on Marco’s shoulder. “Marco, son, it’s fine. We’re proud of you, for everything that you did, we love you, and we understand.”

Angie joined him with a gentle thumb on his cheek. “We’re all going to have to figure out what we’re going to do, but you’re here now, you’re safe, and you’re happy, and that’s all we could ever ask for you.”

“On that subject, I believe your story wasn’t quite all of ‘it’, was it?” Eclipsa chimed in with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

Star and Marco bashfully smiled at each other before Star spoke up for the first time in the conversation. “Heh, guess not.”

Eclipsa clasped her hands together with a bright smile. “Knew it! I’m delighted for you two.”

“Aaaaanyway,” Marco interjected, “what’s the plan for now?”

“Yeah, where’s Dad?” Star looked around the room in confusion. “Or Globgor?”

Eclipsa gave a small smile. “Globby is off at the temple making sure everything is settled there. He can still control his size, so he can cover ground quite quickly, thank heavens.”

“And as for River-” Moon began to speak but was interrupted by a thunderous roar that came from the direction of the backyard.

“TALLY-HO! CAMPIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!” The ruckus only got louder by the second as Star and Marco hurried out the back door to see River charging across the large field on an Earth bear. “Moonpie, I got all the building supplies you asked me to find, they’re at the camp. These Earth trees put up far less of a fight than I’m used to!” When he spotted Star and Marco, he immediately leapt off of the bear and ran straight for the house before scooping pair into a crushing, sweaty hug. “Star! My little girl! And Marco my boy, I’m so glad you’re alright!”

Star smiled as best she could given the pain from the fatherly constriction.“Aw, dad. Wait, camp? What’s going on?”

River finally dropped the two back down onto the grass, where they staggered for a second before plopping down. “Your mother and I wanted to get away from the old village for a while. And what better area than here, right on the outskirts of the Forest of Certain Death, huzzah! So much wildlife to hunt, we’ll be living off the land and-”

“What your father means to say, dear,” Moon stated exasperatedly as she appeared behind them, “is that we wanted to be closer to you, and we figured you two wouldn’t want to be separated. Besides, most of your belongings are already here, are they not?”

Star sat up on the grass and looked in the general direction of her mother, still seeing double. “Mostly, I think.”

“Globgor should be back here around sunset to take Eclipsa back, we told him to bring anything important of yours that was still there just in case.”

Star smiled widely, jumping up to hug her mother excitedly. “Aww, you guys are the best!”

An hour or so went by without much fanfare. Rafael insisted on preparing dinner all by himself, so the others passed the time keeping an eye on the news and playing with the babies. Star and Marco seemingly never got more than a few inches from each other’s presence, a fact which didn’t escape the notice of the adults present. It was decided that, for the time being, Star would continue staying with the Diazes, but that she (and Marco) were more than welcome with any of them at any time. An intoxicating aroma of meat and vegetables wafted through the living room, delighting everyone present who hadn’t had a proper meal in quite a while; when Rafael triumphantly announced that dinner was served, he was almost trampled by the rush.

The dining room was largely silent, aside from the feverish chewing of those present. Star leaned back in her seat, having eaten her fill already, and just took in the sights around her - some oxymoronic blend of chaos and serenity that made her heart soar. Angie and Eclipsa cooed over their fussy daughters who were giggling at each other in their high chairs. River’s head finally surfaced from his plate, flecks of pork and red sauce visible in his beard. “Rafael, old boy, you MUST show me how you make these… what did you call them again? Turtles lava got us? They’re brilliant! It’s feels like my mouth is on fire, but it’s not actually on fire! Earth food is simply extraordinary, hahahaugh,” River choked out before dousing his entire face with his glass of water before digging right back into his third sandwich. Even Moon found herself giggling at the antics, and Meteora clapped along and happily swished her tail. And beside her was Marco, clearly enjoying this scene same as her.

The pair noticed the light from outside gradually taking on a different hue. First reports on the TV earlier had indicated that, despite no one being quite sure what the exact geography of this world was, that most natural phenomena like the day-night cycle and the tides miraculously stayed largely the same, and by the clocks in the house it was definitely approaching late evening. Star raised an eyebrow at him and got a knowing nod in response - same page, as always.

“Thank you so much for the dinner tonight, but Marco and I are gonna go for a bit. We’ll be back soon.” They quickly got up and strolled out the back door hand in hand to see the sun approaching the horizon in the new sky. Marco helped boost Star up onto the roof and took her hand to get himself up there as well, sitting down together to watch the first ever sunset in their new home.

“So what do you think they’re going to call it?” Marco asked, eyes fixed on the sky above.

“Call what?”

“All of this. Whatever happened… whatever we did. Earth and Mewni, I guess? Are any other dimensions here too?”

Star bit her lip and nervously kicked her feet. “I… I don’t know, really. It looks like most of the kingdoms are around Echo Creek, but Mewni’s a really big place. I honestly don’t even know what was on most of it.”

“What if it was named, like, Mearth? Or Mewth? Earni?” Marco overdramatically drawled out each name, causing Star to have giggle fits. “Mewnearth. Ewni? Mewnth!”

“Pfffthahaha stop it Marco, I can’t breathe!” she clutched her stomach as she howled in laughter.

“Earthni!”

It was as if time itself stood still. Marco’s corny jokes, Star’s uproarious laughter, even the ambient noise around them all seemed to stop at that one utterance. She glanced at him, tears in her eyes, trying to suppress the inevitable final outburst. His facade cracked first and she followed immediately after, clutching each other for support while they laughed at the absurdity of what was clearly the silliest suggestion yet until they were completely out of breath, clutching the roof for dear life to make sure they at least stayed upright. Eventually they calmed down and sat back up, facing towards the imminent sunset but looking only at each other.

Before anything more could happen between them, a barely-perceptible noise was picked up by both of them in the distance, but it seemed as though it was rapidly getting closer.

“...aaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” They looked to their right and saw an object flying towards them. Marco’s eyes went wide as he braced for impact, Star clutching him from behind for support. He caught it like a football and let out a grunt as he was knocked backwards, barely staying steady. Star leaned over his shoulder to examine the unidentified crying object, and it was… no. It couldn’t be.

“Delivery for… Star Butterfly... and... Marco Diaz. Ow,” the hoarse, high-pitched voice of the delivery monster girl wheezed out.

“Get outta town!” Marco shouted, almost dropping her off the roof before Star grabbed her and gave her a seat between them. “What?”

“Yes, I was instructed, to, um, let me see here… he just said to go to a certain point at a certain time, close my eyes, and stand perfectly still. I-I heard an explosion not long after, and a lot of weird noises. Eventually I opened my eyes and saw this big scary machine on wheels coming for me, and before I could run it hit me into the sky, and I guess I somehow landed here.”

Star and Marco’s eyes almost bugged out of their heads before he spoke back up. “OK, um, do you know who sent whatever it is you have for us?”

“Oh, right! So sorry, please don’t hurt me again, I have it right here.” She pulled out a decadent golden envelope. Star very, very carefully began to pry it open and held it out, cowering a bit when she made the final tear, unsure what could possibly await. “I think it was from a… Sir Terms? He licked his elbows to seal the envelope, if that helps.”

“Oh no.” Star intoned, a pit forming in her stomach upon having the independent revelation at the same time as the girl spoke. The only thing inside seemed to be a letter with a few brown stains on it. She carefully opened it up and began reading.

“At your service, m’lady and m’arco. If you’re reading this, I’m off in that great pudding factory in the sky, boom nuggets! For real this time, it’s not a joke, Gloss is dead and you have killed him. Hope you kiddos are enjoying your new home. Congratulations, even I’m not sure how you managed to pull that one off. I looked right up into the future and saw it, and went ‘Huh?’ so hard that I almost knocked over my jigsaw puzzle. Maybe I should give those mortal “feelings” of yours a try after all. Hey, hey monster girl. Yeah, you, the one cowering in the corner waiting for me to finish writing this. I love you! OK, just shouted that, and… nope, don’t get the hype. But the journey is the most important thing, you know?

I honestly can’t say exactly what happens from here. Magic as you know it is gone, probably for good, but the world’s a pretty magical place. Like, did you know they make CHOCOLATE TRUFFLE PUDDING? That power is clearly beyond my domain. Anyway, I wanted to give you a parting gift. Well, besides my bratty kids being gone. You weren’t a terrible student, Star, but more importantly you weren’t a boring one. The kid probably had a lot to do with that, so tell him I said thanks before you do that huggy thing you two always do. I’m inclined to be a lot more neutral than you on whether Mewmans should have had magic or not, but even I know you two earned these.”

The paper was signed with a doodle of Glossaryck smiling, because of course. Attached to the bottom of the page were… stickers? Star held up the decorations - two pairs of pink hearts and two pairs of light red crescent moons. Marco took the moons and the two stared at them incredulously.

All of a sudden, a large bird-like monster swooped in and grabbed the delivery girl by the back of her shirt and began to carry her off. “Um, guess my, uh, ride is here! Byeeeeeeee-” she trailed off as the pair stared, still in disbelief. Star shook her head to get back to reality and once more looked down at her hands.

“Heh, in all the mess I hadn’t even realized you’d lost your cheekmarks, honestly,” Marco lightly said with a lopsided smile. “They were cute on you, but you’re just as cute without them.” His half-smile erupted into a beaming grin.

“Marcoooooo,” Star cooed, leaning into him. “Yeah, I gotta admit, I’ll miss them a bit. And I guess I won’t get to see you with yours either, I barely remember it!”

“Well what if I just do this instead.” He held up the stickers to his face and began to make obviously fake spellcasting noises. Star mirrored him, goofing off for a few minutes before settling down.

“Magic had its moments, but you know what? I’m fine with it.”

“Star-”

“Like I said before, we have me and you, and that’s what matters most.”

“Uh, Star-”

“But don’t you dare think about losing that mole of yours, Diaz, ‘cause that’s an important-”

“STAR!” Marco grabbed her face with his right hand, a bit less gentle than he would’ve liked. Star saw nothing but shock in his visage as he rubbed a thumb over her cheek. “You have your marks again.” Her heart leapt into her throat. “Wait, are mine back too?” He began frantically pawing at his face with his free hand.

She whipped out her phone to look at her reflection and saw that, yup, the hearts were right where they’d always been. “No, no, yours are still gone,” she absentmindedly replied, “but… yeah, wow, my cheekmarks are back. Should… should we be worried? What if magic wasn’t destroyed? What if this problem will just start all over again? What if your family and all of Earth gets dragged into it too?” Star felt herself gasping for oxygen until Marco touched his forehead to hers, her attention being consumed by his chocolate pools gazing at her, through her, as though they were trying to directly comfort her very soul.

“Star, I’ll be honest, I… I don’t know. Glossaryck, well, he’s a lot of things, but I don’t think he’s a liar. Do you feel any connection to magic right now? Even the slightest bit?”

Her eyes closed as she tried to channel the powers she’d mastered over the last handful of months, but found absolutely nothing awaiting. “No, none at all.”

“See? I don’t know what this was, but… maybe just take it for what it is. So your cheekmarks are back, that doesn’t mean you didn’t achieve what you wanted to achieve. Like you said, we’ll just see what happens and figure it out, together. Because I love you, Star, cheekmarks or no cheekmarks, magic or no magic.” Her heart soared hearing it from him, him him, not some weird loopy (but still honest) magicky version.

“Why are you so good to me, Diaz? You’re my former squire, best friend, boyfriend.” Marco’s face nigh-imperceptibly shifted at the unexpected word, but he was immediately stilled by the boundless affection radiating from her, tiny hearts dancing amongst the sapphire flecks below her lashes. “My soulmate, with or without some dumb moon.” Their free hands, holding them upright on the roof, met between them, fingers intertwining. “You’re my Marco, and that’s why I love you, too.”

Neither was sure who leaned in first, but the emotional dam burst as the pair’s lips met for the third time so far in their lives. Star’s left hand rose up to delicately hold Marco’s as he continued to stroke her cheek. As they breathlessly sighed and melted further into the bliss, they knew there was something more special, more right about this one than even their moment of passion in the barn. For the first time that either could recall in a while, there was no looming spectre of danger or destruction, no “if”s or “but”s or any other obstacles left. The sensation consuming them was hope: not the kind that’s a last resort against daunting odds, but a steadfast promise of more to come that they couldn’t wait to see through.

After many long seconds, they leaned back and gasped - the hearts on Star’s face had begun to glow, a visible yellow in the dusky light, but more interestingly, Marco’s moons were glowing themselves. They sat there breathing heavily as the glows subsided; Star’s marks stayed while Marco’s faded entirely, leaving their visages as they’d always known each them.

“Looks like the sunset’s finally about to start,” Marco said after eventually taking his gaze away from his girlfriend. “Can’t think of anyone I’d rather watch it with than y-oof!” he grunted out as Star tightly wrapped her arms around his chest, fully leaning into his shoulder. He put an arm around her and took one of her hands in his own in front of his chest.

“Yeah.”

No more words were needed as the beauty of the orange-purple sky marked the end of the first day of their new home, but both knew they were ready and willing for the promise that their future had in store.

“Are you sure there’s nothing else we could assist you with?” Moon inquired as the Diazes finished rinsing the last of the dishes from dinner.

“Oh, Moon, you two have been through enough lately. Please, go rest. And if there’s anything you need to help get set up, let us know,” Angie responded gently.

“I FOUND CURTAAAAAAAAAINS!” River ran down the stairs and almost bowled Moon over as he ran out the back door to deliver his haul.

“Angie, dear, were those all our blankets-” Rafael poked his head out into the dining room. The trio, as well as Eclipsa who had just descended from the nursery following River’s commotion, went out into the backyard to find that the Johansen man was long gone into the dusk. The group turned around and was captivated by the vibrancy of the sunset on what the news had announced was tentatively being dubbed “Earth-ni” until they noticed a competing light from on top of the house. All of the adults’ eyes widened, but perhaps for different reasons, as Angie bolted inside as quickly as her frame was capable of doing.

“Are those…”

“Seems so, Moon,” Eclipsa said, seeing the brilliant display of glowing cheekmarks - one she had some significant experience with, herself. While there were a hundred worries whizzing through her head over what it could mean, her heart swelled over seeing the pair embrace what made them special and find a happiness Eclipsa now knew beyond any doubt was as true as could be. “You know, whatever it is, I trust that it will all turn out alright with those two.”

Moon reluctantly nodded before turning around and heading towards River’s yurt-in-progress. “Perhaps you’re right. Let’s let them have this, they deserve that much,” she spoke fondly. Angie emerged from the house with a camera in tow, stopping to take a quick photo (that they didn’t seem to notice) before almost carrying her husband by the arm to join the others for a walk.

“We can’t thank you enough for bringing our son back safe and sound to us,” Rafael said after almost ten minutes of a gorgeous stroll in silence.

“That was hardly our doing.”

“Then thank you for everything.”

“I suppose we owe you much the same.”

They all nodded, bonding over having just experienced one of a parent’s greatest joys: seeing their children grow up to be happy, healthy, and fulfilled. As they neared the camp and met up with River, Eclipsa looked back across the field towards the house and the almost-invisible sunlight left trickling over the horizon.

“I need to rendezvous with Globby, please take care, everyone! Visit often!”

Eclipsa briskly walked the dozen or so minutes to the Diaz abode to find Globgor, normal size, waiting for her in the backyard with some supplies which he was carrying indoors. She snuck behind him and hopped up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the neck, at which he started briefly but quickly realized its origin. They shared a quick kiss and resumed moving all of the things indoors.

“Alright, is that everything?”

“Yes, there wasn’t very much left. Unfortunately there were some humans who were very spooked by me on the trip over, but I think that’s just how it will be sometimes. One complimented my… speed-oh? Whatever that means. I’ll take confusion over hatred,” he chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Alright, we just need to get Meteora and then we should get back home.” Eclipsa nodded but stepped into the yard to check on Star and Marco one last time and found them locked in an embrace, heads leaning on one another. Upon a closer glance, however, she could see Star’s head turned at an odd angle - it didn’t seem as though she was looking at anything.

“Globby, dear, can you come over here?”

“What’s up?”

“Can you check on Star and Marco and see if they’re alright? And give them a lift down?” She pointed to the roof and he nodded, growing to about double his normal size before gently cupping them in his hands. He lowered them to the ground as he shrunk to keep it gentle and Eclipsa helped support them. The pair were fast asleep, tightly wrapped around each other to the point where neither of the adults could find a good way to pry them apart. Wordlessly, they eventually came to a mutual conclusion that they could simply transport them upstairs. Globgor enlarged his arms to act as a cradle while Eclipsa guided the way up the stairs, keeping them steady. The strain was clearly taking its toll, so they hurried into the nearest bedroom on the second floor - Marco’s - and gently deposited them on the bed before stepping back out of the room.

“Are you sure it’s OK to leave them like this?” Globgor fidgeted, feeling a bit out of place as the only one in the group that hadn’t known either Star or Marco for a long time.

“Star’s a Johansen, I’m not sure we could wrestle them apart if we tried. I trust them completely to behave, dear. Well, far more than I would’ve trusted us around their age,” she joked with a snicker. “I’ll take the fall if there’s any fuss, but for now let’s let them have their day.”

They were about to leave when a light breeze drifted through an open window, causing the prone forms of Star and Marco to shiver.

“Perhaps we should find something to cover them up with, though, but River took all the blankets earlier.”

Globgor raised his finger and tiptoed down the steps before coming back up a minute later. “I found this hanging on Star’s wall, maybe it will help.” He held up a pink cape with a blue gem in the middle, filled with various stitched scenes of Star and Marco.

“This looks like a Mewni knight cape… hang on a minute.” A light-bulb went off in her mind as she strolled into Marco’s room and found what she was looking for hanging on the door: a blue cape with a pink gem to mirror the one in her hand. “Aren’t they just the most precious things?” she whispered, showing Globgor the scenes from Star and Marco’s lives stitched into the fabric. “I’ll finish up here, you go get Meteora from the nursery, it’s quite late for her.” He nodded and left the room, leaving Eclipsa with the sleeping pair.

She gently set the capes on top of them, the fabric in the middle overlapping and folding into itself slightly. Glancing back to the hallway, she saw her wonderful husband rocking their sleeping child in his arms. Taking one last look at Star and Marco, her heart swelled up. So much of her own happiness was thanks to them, it meant the world to her that they were able to find that same contentment in each other. The former queen’s hand brushed aside a tear from her face as she exited the room and shut the door behind her. In her mind, a promise was made right then - she’d care for them like they were her own.

#starco #svtfoe #star vs the forces of evil #postcanon #fanfic #tgg svtfoe

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theawkwardterrier · 5 years ago

Text

things left behind and the things that are ahead, ch. 36

AO3 link here

On the first day of his practicum, Nate falls in love.

Not truly or entirely, not yet, but enough that when he looks back he’ll be able to pinpoint the moment.

He’s getting his orientation, trying to take in all the information flowing out of Janice, his supervisor, even as he keeps part of his mind on memorizing the layout of the senior home. It’s not an overly fancy place but it is large, the building and grounds clearly repurposed from some rambling former life. Most importantly, though, there are enough windows to let in the sun, they’ve actually managed to do something about the usual smell of medication and age, and the staff smiles at the residents and at each other.

He’s already met a couple dozen people today, finger-spelling their names inside his pockets to try to cement them into his memory, though he has no idea how many he’ll actually remember by the end of the day.

“Oh, let’s go say hello to Eleanor,” Janice says as they pass the third floor lounge. Nate nods, even if he had been slightly glad that they seemed ready to move onto the last floor until whatever window glimpse had pulled Janice in.

“Eleanor is actually the reason you’re here in the first place,” Janice says, glancing over her shoulder at him as she opens the door. “She started as a volunteer all the way back when she was a freshman at UVA, but when she finished her masters we were able to scoop her up as our new assistant director. She applied to have us as a placement for the art therapy program and luckily we were accepted and were able to bring you in.”

The room is partly full - a trio playing cards, a man drifting off and startling himself back awake in front of an afternoon soap opera - but it’s obvious which one is Eleanor. She wears her deep brown hair in a glossy twist and that’s what he sees first. She’s talking to an elderly woman in an armchair, crouched down and balancing on her heels despite her black pencil skirt and businesslike ice blue blouse.

“—make sure it’s all set up for you,” she is saying as they come over, and the old woman gives an apprehensive nod. Eleanor pats her hand and starts to stand, but the woman takes her fingers and grips them.

“I promise,” Eleanor says with firm compassion, kneeling back down and bringing her other hand over to grip back. “I’ll make sure.” Finally the woman lets Eleanor stand, and Janice moves to greet her, trusting Nate to follow.

“Mrs. Lasko is worried that the staff at her former facility didn’t let the listening book library know that her address has changed. Her supply of cassettes is running low and she’s getting a bit nervous.” Eleanor’s voice is low and hoarse, but not harsh; it’s just as if she’s sort of whispering. Even so, she sounds businesslike and her gaze meets Janice’s directly. She’s probably around Nate’s age, no more than two years older. “I’m going to call over and make sure that it’s been updated.”

“Wonderful. Eleanor, I just wanted to introduce the newest member of the activities department, the art therapy student we were bringing in?”

“Eleanor Grey,” she says, holding out her hand. “Welcome.”

He shakes. Though he’s never had a problem making eye contact before, her eyes are particularly penetrating. “Eleanor,” he says. “Hello. It’s good to meet you. I’m Nate Carter.”

Wednesday night, he finds himself staying late to help with the game night that is apparently run monthly.

“Not exactly your purview, but if you wanting to make a good impression gets me home earlier, I have no complaints,” Janice teases as she packs her bag at precisely five minutes to five. He doesn’t mention that the thought of making a good impression has only now crossed his mind. “Just don’t forget that these folks might look sweet, but they’ll do almost anything to win at Bingo.”

Luckily, Bingo isn’t actually on the schedule tonight. He and Eleanor work quietly beside each other making sure that the decks of cards and sets of checkers are complete, and that particular numbers of chairs are set up around the Scrabble and Clue boards.

“Mr. Feeney isn’t allowed to play Trivial Pursuit anymore,” Eleanor warns just before they open the doors. “He’s memorized all the answers, and last time it nearly caused a riot.”

“Anything else I should know just now?” Nate asks, raising an eyebrow, because they can hear the clamor of the crowd right outside. It’s now almost 7:01.

She smiles at him, the first time he’s seen it from her: a little smirk that turns into a full grin, creasing her eyes at the corners. “Have fun.”

And when he looks over at her throughout the evening, she is having fun: explaining the rules of Uno with endless patience and laughing at the vindictiveness with which the players use Wild Draw 4 and Skip cards, going to change out the music with Mrs. Andretti’s advice and then taking the old woman’s hands for a short waltz.

She’s been so serious in their interactions so far, and he appreciates that professionalism and care as a colleague. But if coming to game night means he’ll get to see this side of her, the smiling, loose-shouldered side, he’ll be back for game night next month too.

His new apartment isn’t particularly large and it’s up two flights of worn stairs, but the grocery store is only a block over. He goes there Friday night after work, bypassing the busier bars and restaurants as he does. Pushing his cart to the end of the aisle, trying to decide whether he should try raspberry jam instead of his usual strawberry, he turns the corner to find Eleanor there. She’s in loose jeans and a fuzzy striped sweater instead of her neat work clothes, consulting a grocery list. Through the paper, he can see her neat looped handwriting, the meticulous check marks beside each acquired item.

He’s surprised to see her - she so often works late, and he didn’t even know she lived around here. They exchange pleasantries, comparing addresses (her place is about three blocks away from the store, but in the opposite direction from his) and impressions of the neighborhood.

It’s strange, he thinks. Two weeks ago, I would have just passed her without thinking twice and now I can’t stop noticing.

“You’ve been in the area more than a month now. I wonder how many times we’ve passed each other without even realizing it,” she says, and then looks a little embarrassed. “Sorry if that was a bit strange.”

“No,” he says quietly. “I was just thinking the same thing.” He moves aside to allow another shopper to pass, realizing that they’ve positioned themselves fairly awkwardly along the aisle cap.

“Eleanor,” he asks, realizing that they don’t have much more time before they need to start moving on. “I was planning on having some people over for brunch tomorrow morning. Trying to get to know my neighbors now that I don’t have any more moving boxes around for them to trip over. I know we’re not exactly neighbors, but do you want to join us?”

He can see a swift, awkward panic in her eyes. He takes a step back. “Only if you want to,” he adds. “It would be around eleven, and very casual. Just drop by if you want to, have some pancakes, leave when you’re ready.”

“I’m an early riser,” she says after a pause. “Eleven would be more like lunch for me. But I’d be glad to come.”

He grins. “It really will be breakfast for me - hence the pancakes - but I’ll be glad to have you.”

“Any plans for Thanksgiving?” Nate asks absently a month later. His long legs are extended in front of him and he considers the half sandwich remaining in its wrapping as he stretches his cramped, charcoal-stained fingers. He had wondered whether choosing something involving art as a career would stop him from enjoying it as a hobbyist, but that hasn’t proven to be the case. Several weeks ago, when Eleanor had found him eating lunch in a stairwell, trying to get a break from the good-natured but constant chatter in the staff room and the office he shares with Janice and the others on the activities staff, she had invited him to eat in her office and he’d come gratefully with his lunch bag in one hand and a book in the other. But as the weeks have gone on, he’s started bringing a sketchpad instead, taking advantage of the peace and space offered by the room in order to experiment with media and technique in a way he hasn’t in a while.

Eleanor still prefers books, taking bites between turned pages. Even now, she repeats “Thanksgiving?” a little vacantly, as if she’s only half heard it, swimming her way back up as she finishes her page. (She’s reading a lengthy biography of Rosalind Franklin, the late Nobel Prize winning scientist. Her taste tends toward dense biographies of women throughout history, or sometimes books about music.) “My plan is essentially to do this,” she says, mouth tipping upward at the corners as she hefts the book. “St. Louis is a little far for just a few days, so I’ll help with the holiday lunch here and then go relax at home.”

“You could,” he says, looking up at her, “come to my family’s place.” He knows that she started volunteering with the elderly back in Missouri - her grandparents (“two mean old clams”) had been put in a care home when she was a teenager and when she went to visit them, she was adopted by the other, kinder residents - and considers most of those that she’s met and cared for surrogate family. He adds, “We eat on the later side, around 6, so you’d have time to see everyone here first.”

“That’s very nice of you to offer,” she says, placing her book squarely on her desk and folding her hands on top of it like birds wings. “But I couldn’t disrupt your holiday like that. I’m sure your family doesn’t need to try to squeeze in a stranger.”

“Actually, my father would probably never forgive me if he thought I hadn’t offered,” says Nate truthfully. “And we’ll be hosting everyone, my sisters, my cousins, so it’s already a couple dozen people, and no trouble to add another chair. As long as you don’t mind talking to a bunch of opinionated people - and from what I’ve seen so far from your discussions with the people around here, you don’t - I think you would have a pretty good time.”

For a moment he thinks she will politely decline, thrown off by the sudden and strange invitation, and as he prepares for the words, he realizes how much he does not want her to say no.

And she doesn’t.

“So,” Rose says, eyeing him keenly from the passenger seat as he navigates the road to their parents’ house. She’d had to work until that last minute and only came into Union Station earlier today. She’d been fairly crabby on arrival because the Amtrak was apparently packed full of people arriving for last minute holiday meals, and only became crabbier when Nate refused to let her drive (“Come on, I never have a chance to do it in the city!” “Lucky for the city.”). But she’s apparently settled as she starts in on the family gossip. “I hear you’re bringing someone.”

“Just a friend who didn’t have other plans. She’s just about my boss," Nate says patiently, eyes on the road, even though Janice is his boss, and Eleanor’s boss Cheryl is Janice’s boss too. “Her name is Eleanor.”

Rose says, “Oh, Nate and Nora, hmmm?” Her voice trails teasingly upward.

“She goes by Eleanor, not Nora,” he tells her, and then adds, with compulsive honesty, “Well, sometimes I call her El.”

It had slipped out one day at work - “Thanks, El” when she told him in passing in the hallway that the staff meeting time had changed, and when he’d caught himself and apologized she had told him after a pause that though she had never gone by a nickname, it didn’t bother her.

Rose looks at him as if she can see the memory on his face. She raises a considering eyebrow. “Alright. Eleanor,” is all she says.

The house is already overflowing - Nate’s parents and sisters, three Barnes children along with their spouses and kids, the Starks and Jarvises who arrived that afternoon - by the time Eleanor rings the doorbell. (She’d chosen to drive herself, probably so she could leave if things were too awkward.) Nate’s mother answers it.

“Come in, please,” she says, ushering Eleanor through the door.

“Thank you so much for having me,” Eleanor says, presenting a bottle of wine because Nate had told her firmly that there would already be far too much food. (Nate doesn’t know anything about wine - that he can identify not only red and white but rosé as well is about the extent of it - but Mom knows these things and Nate can see that she approves.) Eleanor wears a long, silky looking dress, brownish red with little yellow flowers. It’s fairly frumpy and doesn’t necessarily flatter her coloring. Nate keeps finding his eyes drawn to her.

He had worried, after inviting her, that she might be scared off by his large, loud family, all the names to learn, the long histories which she would have no background in. But she fits with ease, introducing herself to his parents with quiet and heartfelt thanks, making conversation in limited ASL with Emma about her advocacy work on Deaf underemployment, talking to Aunt Violet about crochet (apparently one of the residents had taught her; Aunt Vi professes herself glad to find a fellow crocheter considering Aunt Josie’s preferred hobby is rug hooking - “I think everyone on our block has one of her rugs and good thing too or our apartment would be overflowing with them”), discussing some allegedly famous soprano with Aunt Maria, the Franklin biography with Uncle Howard and Aunt Layla. She keeps trying to stand and help in the kitchen while Nate’s mother and sisters insist that she should relax. Nate’s father eventually lets her hand around dessert plates and forks, and she gives him a grateful smile at being able to contribute something. She’s certainly no artist but when they play pictionary after dinner she takes it as seriously as the rest of them do, and Nate feels himself attuned to the firm, focused, particular sound of her voice cutting through the clamor with a sure guess.

As the little ones, Jimmy and Baby’s kids, start getting cranky and everyone tries to soothe them, Nate finds Eleanor looking at the triptych of paintings on the living room wall. The first shows the sky at dawn, the next at sunrise, and the third with the sun fully risen. Nate can see the flaws in them now, the different techniques and colors he might have used, but he still likes them anyway.

“Your father said he painted,” Eleanor says as Nate comes up behind her shoulder. “Are these some of his?”

“Oh,” says Nate. “They’re actually mine. But I made them because of my dad’s—Here, I’ll show you.”

He takes her up to his bedroom, snapping on the lamp on the desk and finding himself struck a little sadly by the light filter of dust over the remaining things here. Eleanor walks in behind him, spotting the series lined up above his bed and going over to look. It shows the moon in different phases, over and through trees that are clearly the ones in the yard. He’d never thought to bring them with him when he moved out - not because he didn’t love them, but because they belonged here.

“When we moved to this house, I said I was sad that I wouldn’t get to fall asleep seeing the moon out the window,” Nate tells her as she examines the paintings. “The master bedroom is the only one that faces the right way. So Dad made me these. And I made the ones downstairs for him.”

“How lovely,” she says. He can’t quite see her face in only the dim lamp light. “And how lucky.” And he feels among skin and bone the rightness of her words.

No one comes up to Nate as the evening draws to a close and tells him that they’re glad he brought her or that he’s fortunate to be able to work with her. Maybe they can see, the way he can, how she just fits there.

On a Tuesday night in December, sitting with a beer he’s hardly been drinking, he calls home.

“Hello?” His dad picks up, voice so familiar that Nate closes his eyes hearing it. He suddenly feels as if he can smell the particular scent of his childhood home, the one that he can’t replicate anywhere and which is instantly recognizable when he experiences it again.

“Hi, Dad,” he says.

“Hey, kid.” There’s a moment of quiet and he can make out the sound of water in the background, can picture Dad washing the dinner dishes, phone held against his shoulder, the cord stretching across the kitchen to the sink. Finally, Dad asks, “How are things?”

And Nate is so grateful that he does not ask why he’s calling tonight when they’ve just had their regular phone call two days ago. Rose would get suspicious, Drea would jump to asking what was wrong, Emma (now that he finally has his TTY hooked up right) would try to wait him out, and with every word Mom said, no matter how innocuous, he would know that she was trying to pry it out of him. With Dad, he gets the opportunity to at least pretend for a while.

“How are things there?” he asks instead, allowing his father’s words to flow over him: they've gotten all their things packed to move to the place they found in Cambridge; they have to be up there in a couple of weeks. Mom has space in her schedule later this week so they’ll be meeting the travel agent then to start planning for their next trip abroad. One of the kids in his current caseload need a lot of support - no details; Dad’s discreet - but they've been seeing some good bonding progress between him and the replacement caseworker.

“We had Elaine over for dinner to say goodbye before the semester starts,” Dad says. “She just left.” Nate thinks of that carefully dressed older woman, a friend of his parents from before he was born. Her husband had died pretty young, a heart attack in his forties, and she’d been left without much of a way to support herself so Mom had helped her get a government job as a translator - she had apparently majored in French in college and kept up in French conversational groups. She’d come over to their place for dinner every so often through the years once they’d moved back to the DC area, always bringing an apple crumble and making quietly sharp jokes.

“She was telling us about a friend of hers who is trying video dating. It sounds like something of a nightmare, to be honest.” Dad has always been pretty technologically savvy, able to work new gadgets in ways that Nate’s seen his friends parents give up on (probably a result of knowing Uncle Howard for so long). Still, he’s always appreciated a more human connection.

“I’m not looking to try any time soon,” Nate says, running an idle thumb around the mouth of his beer. And then, because his parents raised him to be brave, he asks, “When did you know that you were in love with Mom?”

“Well.” There’s the clink of silverware being placed into the dish drainer, the sound of the water being shut off. “I think it’s something I learn and remember every day.”

“No, I mean—I guess I mean when did you know that you could be in love with her?”

His father is smiling, just a little. Nate can hear it. “Sometimes I think it was the first minute, all the way back at boot camp. She came over - perfect hair, uniform, all that easy confidence - and decked a guy for getting fresh with her. It didn’t improve his personality much - won me over, though. Not that anything happened for a good while after that, but moments like those are seeds.”

Nate thinks of the way just the words “I promise” or “I’ll take care of it” from Eleanor settles the most agitated residents. He thinks of her smiling during game night, speaking with endless compassion when families come to collect their relatives’ effects, arriving early and singing softly to herself in her office as she prepares for meetings. Her voice sounds the way it does from a paralyzed vocal cord that she’s had since she was a kid, but it never stops her from talking or making herself heard, even knowing that people will comment on it. When she reads, she runs a thumb over her mouth without even seeming to notice. She had come to brunch that first time with flowers, bright roses, and alstroemeria, and asters, and although based on her reaction to the invitation he had expected her to leave as quickly as possible, she had talked to nearly everyone. Conversed with, really, he corrects himself, listening carefully and asking questions. When his eyes had found her, hers never seemed to find him, too focused on the person she was speaking with. As people filtered out, he found her tidying up, collecting dirty dishes. When he told her he could do it, she asked, “Alright, so what else can I do to help?”

He remembers the way she seemed to belong so easily among his family. He thinks about how, as he fell asleep that night, he found himself thinking about her being there again next year and had to remind himself that there was no real reason she would be.

He’s had crushes before, the fizzy feeling of everything in you being drawn to one person, like they suddenly took up extra space in your vision. There was Jana Charles in junior high with her matching headbands for each outfit; Patty O’Neil whose name was always written neatly above his on the checkout cards in the school library; Gary Price, the good-looking third baseman, a senior when Nate had been a freshman; Donna Myerson who he’d once seen playing bass in her garage and thought about for months afterward before he asked her to prom; Ted the pharmacist at the drugstore near the GW campus, round glasses and brown hair that was just the right amount of too long, deep-voiced and patient and precise as he explained dosages and side effects. He’s gone on dates, had a couple of girlfriends, had sex before. But nothing has ever felt like this, as if each little moment is not something to look back on with old and retired fondness, a nostalgia at his younger and more naive self, but as part of a greater story.

“Seeds, huh?” he says.

“The thing about seeds,” says his father the gardener, “is that you should try planting them. See what happens.”

He finishes his practicum two weeks later, has officially earned his master’s two weeks after that. The last week of January, he comes back for one final game night and to deliver thank you notes to the staff.

“I think you’re going to be a great art therapist,” Eleanor says when it’s just the two of them collecting dropped game pieces and dirty cups from the flat ginger ale and cola they’d served. “Whether you end up working with seniors or not, I think you’ll do amazing things and I’m very glad I got a chance to meet you and see you work, at least for a little while.” She gives him a small, warm smile over her shoulder; her hair, which he’s heard her describe to a new, newly blind resident who’d asked as “plain-Jane brown,” is down tonight, falling in a straight, thick sheet down past her shoulders. “Lunchtime will be much quieter.”

He almost laughs a little - one of the things that he’s liked best about their lunches in her office is how easy it is to sit in mostly silence with her - but instead he finds himself saying, “We might still catch each other in the grocery store.”

“Your apartment’s on my running route, so if you’re ever up early enough I can wave as I go by,” she offers.

“Or—” He clears his throat. “Would it be okay if I took you for dinner some night? I’d like to—I’d like to see you on purpose.”

“Oh.” She sounds surprised, looks down at her own hands as they slide a deck of cards into a soft-edged box. “I didn’t think—That is, you’re such a nice person and I’m—I thought you would want someone who was a bit more outgoing. Someone friendlier.”

“I don’t think you have to be any more outgoing than you are,” he says honestly. “And I think you’re friendly - and, more importantly, a very good friend to those lucky enough to have you. So if being friends is what you want, I’ll be grateful for it. But if you might want to try something more…”

He does not realize that he was holding his breath until she after she has looked up and answered yes.

“Drea says hi.” As he hangs up the phone, Nate shifts a little and rests his head atop Eleanor’s where it rests on his shoulder.

She glances up with a smile, finger poised to turn the page of the hefty book she’s reading on the life of Marie Antoinette. “That’s nice of her. Tell her hello from me next time you talk.” She selects a salt and vinegar chip from the bag on the end table, asking, “How is she doing?” before she places it on her tongue. (She’s started liking them so much recently that last time he went shopping he picked up a couple of bags to keep at his place.)

“She didn’t actually say anything, but I think she might have met someone,” Nate says thoughtfully.

“What makes you say that?”

“I asked about the new condo and she kept starting to say things and then not finishing them. Maybe she has a cute neighbor?”

Eleanor eats another chip. “That would be nice. It’s always good to have a cute neighbor. I should know.” She gives him a quick poke in the side, right below his ribs, where he’s ticklish.

His shoulders shift with laughter for a second as he flinches away. Then he says, more slowly, “She also said she heard from Libby that we’ll be going to Brooklyn for Thanksgiving next month. Almost everyone is closer to there this year anyway. If you can make it, I think everyone would like to see you again. I know I’d like it if you came.”

By now Nate knows that it’s not the distance from St. Louis that keeps Eleanor from going back, it’s the distance from the people there. Her parents had been killed in a car accident when she was thirteen and she had gone to live with an older uncle and aunt after that. “I never felt that I needed to live up to something,” she had told him the first time they had talked about it. “As far as I know, they chose not to have children, and it was because they didn’t really like them. They wouldn’t have been happier with a different sort of kid, someone athletic or popular; they wouldn’t have been happy with anyone. So I knew that it wasn’t me, but that didn’t really make it any easier growing up there.”

Since she came to Virginia for college they’d essentially lost touch, each side relatively satisfied with brief phone calls once or twice a year. She spends holidays at work, with friends, or alone, and he knows that it makes sense to ask her if she wants to come with him, knows that she came last year just as a friend of his and it doesn’t have to mean more. But he also knows that it’s a particular step to ask her now that they’re in a relationship.

“I’d love to,” she says simply, and drags the afghan she’d given him over the two of them.

But when Thanksgiving comes, Eleanor seems off somehow. She doesn’t speak very much on the drive up to Brooklyn or as they see everyone over at Baby’s place on Wednesday night; the quiet isn’t unusual for her, but it’s without the comfort he’s found in their silences in the past, lacking the careful and noticeable attention she typically has in conversation.

“Are you okay?” he leans over to ask during Thanksgiving dinner. She nods but her attention is on the remains of her small portion of food. She'd been talking just enough that her mood wasn't obvious (and there's enough going on this year between everyone meeting Emma and Eric's new baby, Aunt Maria and Uncle Howard's anniversary, Libby starting medical school, and Tony gleefully recounting the story of his and Drea's arrest to distract everyone) but he can still see the strangeness in her.

He thinks that she would have told him if she had changed her mind and would rather not have come, or if something happened at work - as much as she prepares herself, sometimes the loss of a resident can push her into herself - but he wants to offer the opportunity if she needs it. After they've eaten, instead of joining everyone for the traditional games, he excuses the two of them to go on a walk to "show Eleanor the neighborhood." As they fall into step beside each other, heading toward the park a few blocks away from the house, Nate does not take her hand. He feels a little lopsided and odd as he puts his into his pockets; over the past few months, walking with fingers intertwined has become reflexive. But it's obvious that she needs space, so he does not touch her, doesn't say anything until they've reached the park.

He gestures to a bench and they sit. It's cold under them, even through jackets. He'd forgotten what New York was like in November.

"El," he asks seriously, breath leaving a shadow in the air. "Will you tell me what's wrong?"

She looks around at the dark playground equipment. For a moment he isn't sure she is going to answer. Then she says, "Your family, they really seem to love you a lot." She shifts her shoulders in tightly, bracing - from the cold? "Do you think there's anything you could do that would make them stop?"

His first instinct is to say of course there must be. They're good people but not saints, so there must be limits. His next instinct is that of course there aren't: he has known since the time of memory that he was loved solidly and without restraint. If he had dropped out of school or gotten addicted to something or brought home a man instead of Eleanor - none of that would have changed things.

He thinks about it. Finally he says, "If there was something major - if I became a human trafficker, if I raped someone, or killed someone who didn't deserve it - I don't know that they would love me the same way. But I think they still would somehow, and I don't think they would give up on me."

She seems a little taken aback at his answer, or perhaps that he actually took the question seriously enough to answer at all. "Only if you killed someone who didn't deserve it? Not killing in general?"

"They fought a war," he reminds her. "My parents, Uncle Bucky, Uncle Howard too, though I don't think he was actually in the field much." They don't talk about the fact that mom and dad have both likely killed people - and for his mom, he isn't entirely certain that it was forty years ago. But it's been in the background his whole life, as his mother and Uncle Bucky rehashed decades-old sharpshooting contests, when they made fun of his dad for some foolhardy battle plan ("It worked, didn't it?" he would ask them grumpily when they teased him). All of that was simply known.

Eleanor takes it in, seeming to adjust her calculus of his family. She shifts beside him. "My family isn't really like yours at all," she says in a low voice. "They aren't—They don't—" It's as if she's perched on a precipice. He has to truly hold himself back now from taking her hand - to help her step forward or move herself protectively back, he doesn't know. Finally she says, "I went to the doctor just before we left. I'm pregnant. And I think I want to keep the baby."

He catches in a breath, and it’s as if there’s an extra bit of air in his lungs that he’s just now finding, as if he’s never breathed quite as deeply before as he does now. “Okay,” he says. “Okay. We’ll be okay.”

They had discussed moving in together before: they’ve been spending most of their free time together for months and it doesn’t entirely make sense to keep separate apartments mere blocks away from each other. But it becomes a reality more quickly than they had initially expected. That’s only one of the things they need to start planning and preparing and pro-conning. Eleanor has already passed through the first trimester without truly realizing it, and feels as if she needs to catch up. Between comparing vitamins, laying out a shared budget including the additional expenses, talking to her supervisor about maternity leave, considering childcare afterward...telling his family becomes only another of the strange new things that they’re taking on these days.

Everyone is as excited as he expected them to be, though as they leave the restaurant where they’d been meeting with Nate’s parents, he can see Eleanor lose some of the tension in her posture.

“I’m not really used to all of this,” she admits later. He can’t see her expression - she’s facedown on the bed as he massages her lower back; she’s been having some pain there recently. “I know my parents loved me, but then I got...inherited, I suppose, by people who just did their duty, tolerated me.” This part of her was why she hadn’t wanted to get married simply because they were having a baby, regardless of what people might think. (“I’ve already spent too much of my life feeling that people were in my life only because it was the right thing to do,” she’d said. “I’m not worried about us, but I’ll know when it’s right for me.”)

They listen to the rain outside. Her voice, when she spoke again, was very soft, and not only because it was muffled in the bedclothes. “It’s different, thinking that there are people who care about me this much.”

“You deserve that,” he says with quiet vehemence, and presses his hands against her skin like love.

At the first doctor’s appointment, they’re meant to fill out all sorts of forms about each of their family medical history.

Nate was never academic the way Drea is, never a brilliant student in spite of not being so like Rose. He was solid B-pluses through school and never bothered by that. Watching Eleanor’s flowing pen, seeing the blanks he is forced to leave on his own page, is the first time he has had this sort of feeling of failure.

The doctor doesn’t seem overly troubled by it, simply nodding when he says, “I was adopted,” as he hands over his empty paperwork, and moving on. The things he could tell her about his family - that Rosie is allergic to penicillin, that he never met his mother’s father because he died of heart failure long before Nate was born - have no impact here.

He knows that their child will get to be a part of a tremendous extended family. But he sits uneasy with the thought that he will leave them in the dark about their biological background, that one day they will sit with a form like this and not know the answers either.

Emma’s cafe is local, and she had mentioned that she would be experimenting with pie, so he stops there first. She’s doing a million things at once: nursing baby Will, looking over the inventory, writing out her yearly update for Uncle Howard (a Deaf woman with a BA but no experience trying to enter the risky restaurant business, she had had a difficult time getting a traditional small business loan, and so had taken her prospectus and gone to Howard instead. He probably didn’t even remember that he’d loaned her the money, but Em deposited prompt monthly payments and insisted on writing an official year-end summary for him as an investor). As they talk, he ends up folding a pile of clean clothes that she had jammed into the baby bag, pairing little socks and turning endless onesies right side out.

“Did you ever think,” he asks, “about trying to find your birth family?”

“No,” she says immediately, and he’s surprised by the vehemence there, and that Will continues dozily eating even as she snaps her fingers shut over his fragile head. But her next words are slower. He can tell that she’s thought about it before. “I never wanted to. They chose - decided to give me away. Maybe I would have a better life. Maybe not. My life is better but they didn’t know that. They just did it because it would make their life easier.” She shrugs, running a finger lightly over Will’s soft, sparse hair like a worry stone. “They didn’t want me. I don’t want them. And if they ever found me I would show them my life and tell them that.”

Nate tucks a couple of socks together in a ball and nods. He doesn’t dig deeper.

When he asks Rosie if she would ever go looking, she surprises him. “I don’t know,” she tells him, voice over the phone like she’s winding the cord around her finger.

“Why?” he asks, because Rose has always seemed so sure of everything.

“Because I think it would make me angry,” she says simply. “I don’t remember anything from that part of my life. I barely remember anything from before Mom and Dad took me home. But the way that I was when they did, how long it took for me feel safe...Maybe all of that was from being separated from my family, from being a little kid in the system, but if it was I’d be mad that there wasn’t anyone to stop that from happening to me. And if it was from something that happened before, I don’t know if I could ever forgive them.”

He thinks that she is finished. He almost starts to speak. Then she adds, “Only, sometimes, I think about the possibility of having other siblings out there - a brother or sister who was a little kid too and maybe just barely remembers me, or someone out there who wasn’t born until after it all. How would I feel if that were me?” She takes in a sigh, lets it out in increments. It’s one of those tricks that Dad taught her, the kind she hasn’t used, as far as he knows, in a long time.

“Mom and Dad would give me whatever information they have if I asked, but I don’t know that I ever would. Maybe someday, you know?” And she changes the topic to ask about the new position he’s just taken at a school for at-risk youth.

It’s a long time before he finds himself able to ask Drea. They still talk every week, but each time they do, he lets her hang up without mentioning anything. Months go by as he settles in at work, learns that Eleanor likes her toast burned black and has a videotape of The Sound of Music which she watches when she’s sad, lies in bed with her chilly, clammy feet pressed against him while they debate baby names. He starts to see the shape of the new life he will have laid out before him. He finds himself afraid of disrupting it.

By the time he manages to ask, it is spring. Eleanor has, after a long while of vague thickening around the middle and slight but noticeable rounding of the face, suddenly begun to show quite dramatically.

“That baby probably just remembered who their dad is,” Drea teases when he describes it for her. “It needs room while it grows stringbean limbs like ours.”

He laughs, and before he’s really decided to say anything he asks, “Would you ever want to try to find what happened to our family? Our first family?”

His sister holds so close to her heart the memories she has of their birth parents. She’s told him that they called them Mama and Papa, that their mother had dark, dramatically plucked eyebrows and would tuck the covers up tight under their chins and sing lullabies in Italian to them every night, that Papa let them feed the birds outside the kitchen window with the crumbs from breakfast and brought home a cream horn for each of them on Fridays. He knows that she’s wondered what it would have been like if their parents hadn’t died. And he knows, the way she surely does, that they might not necessarily have been better for it. When he thinks of the two of them growing up with parents other than Mom and Dad, or considers what would have happened had there been some grandparents or neighbors who stepped in, it gives him a cold, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, knowing what would likely have happened to Drea, that he might not know the sister he does today if things hadn’t gone as they did.

The quiet after his question has such depth, but Nate has never been afraid of quiet like that. He waits. Finally Drea says, “Part of me has always wanted to. And part of me knows that it probably wouldn’t go how I’d want it to. They’d be expecting someone else and they’d be...disappointed at who I turned out to be.” She makes a little coughing sound. “You could try to find them. If you wanted.”

“No,” he says, and what surprises him most is how unsurprised he finds himself at the answer after all these months of considering it. “I don’t think I want to search for anyone who’d be disappointed in you.”

“I know you probably want the baby to know about that part of them,” she says, because she knows him well. “You want to give them some idea of where they come from.”

“They’ll come from me,” he says simply. “They’ll come from me and from El, and maybe they’ll have to learn that I can’t give them all the answers, but I can give them love, and the best family in the world. The best aunt in the world.”

“Best aunts in the world,” she says with a quiet sniffle, “or Rosie will kill you.” Which he knows means that she loves him too.

The baby is born at 4:47 in the morning on the first Tuesday in June.

El had been good all the previous day, listening to the doctor and staying home as the contractions grew closer and closer together. Nate had stayed home with her, not trying to distract her because there wasn’t really a distraction from the encompassing pain and the nerves, just as a presence. When they drove to the hospital around 2 A.M. it was so quiet and still and Eleanor had looked out the window, let out a slow and shaky breath as a contraction trailed off, and said, “I hope this world is good enough for this baby.”

“We’ll make it that way,” Nate told her, and took her hand.

The labor and delivery floor was busy when they arrived - apparently plenty of these babies were night owls too - and they needed to wait while a bed freed up. When they finally got Eleanor into a gown and settled, the doctor popped in (not the obstetrician they’d wanted, who was apparently on another delivery, but the on-call doctor), checked Eleanor, said, “Wow, won’t be long now, huh?” and patted her foot.

He’s right. It’s barely an hour before the doctor says, “One more push!” and Eleanor grips Nate’s fingers and pants, “Oh! Oh, it hurts,” and then there is a crying released into the room.

For all the flurry of activity, Nate’s mind goes very still, taking everything in without entirely being a part of it. The nurses swoop in for the baby, wrapping and cleaning a bit, calling out numbers back and forth, before they lay the whole bundle on Eleanor’s chest. She strokes a finger on the crying cheek, crumpled and the newest thing in the world, and says, “Hello there.”

The doctor is cutting the cord, still talking about delivering the placenta, and someone is asking for the exact time. After a few minutes, one of the nurses comes over and says that they need to take a look at the baby, “Just a quick weigh and to get him dressed, dear, then we might try feeding.”

“Wait.” His voice is hoarse and quiet, so Nate says again, “Wait. I’d like to hold him, please.” The nurse raises a slightly disapproving eyebrow, but she walks his side of the bed and passes the baby to him.

Soon, this small, visceral person in his arms will have a name: Lucas Rogers Carter. One day he will press his face against the window every day watching for the mail truck and cry on Sundays, he will walk down the aisle the day his parents finally choose to get married, he will beg for a dog, he will have a sister, he will be as big a baseball fan as his grandfather and his aunt Drea, he will shy away from heights and be fascinated by spiders, he will be the first person his cousin Will comes out to, he will excel at math and try over and over to write a novel, he will road trip across the United States, he will shout at his parents and learn to apologize for it and still through it all know that he is loved. He will have a life only dreamable in this moment.

But for now, Nate looks down at his son and falls in love.

More chapters here

#Steggy fic #the Carter crew #things left behind fic #Steve Rogers #Peggy Carter #would DEFINITELY recommend reading on AO3 this one is a trillion words long aka 7k #if you loved that million year long Emma chapter you're gonna looove this!

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hadtochangemyurlquick · 7 years ago

Text

WLW Fic Rec List

with input from my beautiful friend @gee13

I promised a random anon I would give ‘em a more complete list of recs several months ago so here- in no particular order I have, Glee, Pretty Little Liars, Pitch Perfect, Girl Meets World, Supergirl, The 100, The Good Place, and Riverdale.

There’s very little porn without plot in here, but I went through my favorites on fanfiction.net and my history on Ao3 and if I recognized the fic I put it down. So some might have slipped through.

As I was going through these and rereading some old favorites I forgot about I wrote little bios. If your work, or a work you really like doesn’t have a bio it’s just cause I remembered it was really good and didn’t feel a need to reread it. If you want comment your own and I’ll edit the post and give you credit.

The minimum qualifications for all of these were:

At least 2k words for a one shot, if it was a multi chapter there had to be at least 1k words per chapter (For example: 14 chapters, 14k words)

It had to be completed or updated in the last year ish (but like I was flexible based on the quality, and if I knew the author or the deal or not)

It had to be Ao3 or Fanfiction.net and tagged appropriately (so I could find it)

Also I never really got into g!p stuff because I ran into a lot of transphobic or just really offensive stuff early on which put me off of it.

Or the alpha omega stuff, when my goach found out I was reading fanfiction she said ‘great just nothing with alpha omega shit okay” and that was like four years ago but I don’t care enough now to start. So none of those are on here (maybe in faberry but I don’t think so)

And they also had to be english, my spanish is still pretty bad so I can’t really read any of those- sorry :(

But let me know if the link ain’t right. And if you think something should be added let me know too, and I’ll read it and add it, and give you credit. My tastes have changed over the years to be slightly so if there’s something here that you think is distateful message me being like “can you reread this?” because it might’ve slipped through. Or I might be like “m8 thats some gay ass shit right there, agr33 to disagr33.” We’re all just here to read out otps getting together again and again in different ways, let’s just be chill about it

But don’t worry- what’s important is at the end of the day they’re all very very gay.

Italics is required reading for each fandom

Glee

Faberry

Dead Girls Don’t Sing (a must read) and the sequel Dead Girls Don’t get a Happy Ending - if you read nothing else for the rest of your life read this, it was written by one of the kindest women I know

You Don’t have the Right

A Perfect Match - slow burn, good if you like tennis

Comfortably Numb

Black Holes and Revelations

Angel Eyes

I’ll Be

Beers and Strippers

Kill the Light

Racing Against the Sun (fucking depressing I cried)

The Christmas Act

Acceptance and it’s sequels: Remembrance and Convergence

Making Angels Cry

Better Than Ice Cream - cute kid!faberry fic

Alone Together - slow burn af but worth the read

A Million Miles of Fun - ridiculous and great

Cuddle Monster - fluffy fluffy crack

Zero, Thirtyseven, Nine - I read this awhile ago and was too young to comprehend the genius

Secret Relationship Unlike Any Other - I was just thinking about this fic the other day!

Should’ve Asked for Directions - if you haven’t read this- read it I swear to god

An Accident of Paradise

Backwards Walk and the companion Between The Drinks And Subtle Things - angsty and painful, I once attempted to write a happy ending and even my fluffy ass failed

Better Where it’s Wetter - Introduced me to Ellen so…

Boats in the Sky

The Wish

Give your Heart a Break - left me a lil unsatisfied, but gave me some room to daydream about an epilogue

We might fall hard We might fall fast

I Told Him

Opposite Poles, Equal Partners - a quick angsty one shot to leave you unsatisfied :)))))))))

Quinn’s Second Time - I remember this being good awhile back, let me know ya’ll

Marley and Quinn

My Lost was Saying Found

Brittana

12 Days

Pretty Little Liars

Emison:

Ali’s Second Chance

Duplicity

Sinner’s Lullaby

the supreme

Dreaming

Gravity

Affair

In Holy Matrimony

Our War

A Break From Being Me

Acquired Madness

Her Silence is Deafening

It’s a Process

Orange is the new Alison

Mermaid

Brooklyn and the Baby

Dreaming - tbh I’m not sure if it’s good, but the concepts amazing and the first chapters are really good so we’ll see

Downtown Train - this author is an investment, I have a feeling they’ll get better with time and this fic is already really good. Perfect for a relaxing rainy day, or right before you go to bed because it won’t keep you up. Just like a chill fic bruh

Begin Again - THAT ONE BASED OF AN OLD ASS POST I MADE FOR NOTES BECAUSE I KNEW YOU FOOLS WOULD EAT IT UP AND SOMEHOW TURNED OUT REALLY WELL AND I DIDN’T EVEN ASK THEM TO WRITE IT THEY ASKED ME HAHA WHAT THE FUCK

Tattooed Memories & Hidden Stories

Soldiers are Dreamers

Lauren - frustrating for an emison shipper but undeniably well written

Place Your Bet - tbh everything by this author, while a little slow, is incredible

And The Sparks That We Had Can No Longer Light Up Our Debris - angsty and unsatisfying, but I’m a masochist so I love it

Like Real People Do

Right now it feels like we’re bleeding (so deep that we might not get back up) - I have reread this shit so many times, I love it to death

J'adore

she’s (not) too good for you - I reread this on the regular

25 Occasions People Have Celebrated in the Liarverse - seriously so good, I cried several times

Five Kisses Emily Fields Never Had (On Screen)

Half the Fun

A Break From Being Me - hasn’t been updated in 3000 years but sorta incredible tbh, read at your own risk!

Mulligan Madness

Ali’s Guide to the Art of Love - one of those fics that seems dumb but is actually really gripping and well written and it’s just that the summary’s misleading?

i’ve been afraid of changing (cause i built my life around you)

silver stepping stones - sorta like ‘Right now it feels like we’re bleeding…’ but told from Alison’s perspective and if Alison had gone with Emily. It’s not perfect but it’s a cute one shot and really in character

Ali’s Nightmare Before Christmas and it’s sequel Breathe Again - I actually haven’t reread these I just remember these being really really good

Art of Attraction - I actually know the author and she’s super nice and she writes a bunch of other great stuff

Charlissa

All the Things That Used to Matter

Vandermarin

every thought a thought of you

Love is the New Denim or Black

Sparia

Act Like Everything is Normal

wide open road (of my future)

Spanna

Take Me to Your River (I Wanna Go)

Other:

Chalk Paths

Tell me you Won’t Leave me - really angsty, I felt like it really made an impact on me ya know?

Thirteen Things - this is actually a series but every fic is completed and utter gold

All the Way Home I’ll Be Warm - okay this is a lil hetero but it has emison so

Big Little Liars

Imitation is the Sincerest Form of Depravity

Slouching Towards Bethlehem

Times, They Are A’Changing - sorta every gay couple imaginable, I haven’t read it in awhile but I remember it being really good, there’s a companion peice: Baby, You’re the Best I’ve Ever Met that’s about Mona and Melissa

Pitch Perfect

Bechloe

Perfect Timing and a Perky Red Head

Moirai

Girl Meets World

Rilaya

The Circle

iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou, she never says and the unfinished sequel which will continue to kill us “we’ll be fine,” he swore (even if you aint in the fandom read this, some of the best work I’ve ever seen)

Growing Pains Taste Like Five Hour Energy And Her Lips

Darling so it Goes - hasn’t been updated in awhile so read at your own risk

your hand in mine (heartbeats in sync)

we howl to the moon

do you fall in love too easily?

Passage - I reread this to make sure it was still good as I remembered, crying now- read at your own risk

As Observed by the Sky

pretty sleeper and it’s companion pretty weeper - why is the rilaya fandom so angsty? IT’S NOT NECESSARY

crawl home to her - vampire au, not normally something I’m into but the pickings are sparce and this is damn good

Revelations

Ten First Meetings

The Universe Wants Maya Dead - fucking angsty man, seriously

Day in the Super Life

with joyful ring - a cute Christmas one shot

a love that’s homeless - another cute fantasy one shot

ramble in the roots

Supergirl

Supercorp

Something to Write About

The War of Roses

Is this who we are now? - I wish this was more than a oneshot, I would’ve liked to see the ending play out but a fantastic concept- really

90408

Of Soul-Mate’s and Heart-ache

The Fifth Wall - I’ve loved the slow buildup but haven’t had a chance to finish it so no one talk to me about it ever

Secretaries Know Best - Jess is a queen and I love her

One Lena Comment Too Far - the greatest piece of literature to ever grace the internet

Did You Absolutely Have To - I’m dying and I love it

Your Name

Supergirl’s latest date - I remember this being pretty funny but I was too lazy to reread

Sunlit Honey and Lavender Sunsets and apparently the author has an unfinished sequel? Gold-Crested Ravens and Cornflower Blue Mornings

The 100

Clexa

Lightening Only Strikes Once - READ READ READ PLEAASE

Six

Down Came the Rain

The Blind Side of Love

Pie in the Sky - so so so so good! Like actually amazing

they take their shots but we’re bulletproof

you’re magic & you’re real

All That You Got (Skin To Skin Oh My God)

Copper Down - so I went on a clexa spree and so there’s gonna be a shit ton of those on here

More Than You Think You Are - a little ooc at times but pretty gosh darn amazing oh my god

masquerade dreams

blood rush in the hazy glow - this killed me, I wish the author would give us an epilogue, maybe Clarke and Lexa buying the bar together and watching some lost college kids come in making it a circle or something, but really really really amazing Jesus

I’ll travel through time to save you

In Another Life - a little Lexark for ya, it’s a short, fun, satisfying read you can knock out in thirty minutes

Origamis - to prepare ya’ll for the single mom au I’m dropping probably never but have planned out in my head to a tee

The Wife Project: By Professor Alexandria Woods - Autistic!lexa is honestly one of my favorite head canons that I believe is 100% true, and this fic writes it effortlessly

Almost Three - angsty but interesting concept- definitely enjoyable and I’ve reread it multiple times

Some Angels Fall

Commander in Chief - the best part about this is that in this universe trump is in jail

i’ll give you the moon - some christmas fluff

she gave me a good character (but said I could not swim) - angsty and unfullfilling so you know I love it

The White Queen Running - I loved every moment of this fic and it’s (unfinished) sequal - The Red King Awake, while admittedly hard to follow at times it’s still incredibly sweet while also being angsty and intriguing. 10/10 would read again. Also there’s so much fanart for it? Like really really good fanart? I’ve actually saved some of the better pieces to give me inspiration when I write tbh…

An Unfinished Fight - wonderful concept but would’ve loved to see the ending scene played out more, still an overall amazing fic and honestly so satisfying

Love Letters and Coffee Grounds - a warm christmas fluff for ya that’s ridiculously long but still great.

It’s in My Roots, in My Veins, in My Blood (and I Stain Every Heart That I Use to Heal the Pain - a little bit of plot exhaustion by the end, you can probably just stop reading after the second denny’s scene and then skip to the epilouge but still so fantastic. I stayed up till 2am reading this and have no regrets

This Isn’t Our Fate (But You’re Still My Destiny) - lexark and clexa in one amazing fic! Sign me the fuck up! Really fucking cute and fluffy and totally angsty headcannons for elyza I love.

An Adventure - I love the characterization for Aden and I love this so much in gerneral tbh

you’re magic & you’re real - I like exactly four headcanons about the 100 characters: autistic!lexa, dyslexic!clarke, nonbinary!octavia, and I can’t remember the other one. It doesn’t matter, all of the mentioned above are in this and it’s very gay and wonderful and I actually wish I could make a movie out of this because it’s so great

by her side - a warm fluffy christmas fic for yall

Let Your Hair Down - dunno, cute af I guess

The Days of our Lives - a series I didn’t have the patience to finish but I have adhd so… the first one was fantastic and I loved the second one, but it keeps going so the others are probably good too

Today at Dust - helpful if you want to cry

who told you that you were naked? - fantastic, like seriously one of the best things I’ve read.

i can fly higher than an eagle (for you are the wind beneath my wings) - GREAT if you want to cry. Not clexa centered but at the end yeah… It’s about Anya and Lexa

I have lost my pain - creative and interesting, well written and well done. A very good fic in all manners of speaking

I Will Wait (You Forgave And I Won’t Forget) - just a cute oneshot that’s very well written and gripping

A Forest Fire - I’m a sucker for fix it fics

Fallen - a series I didn’t have the paitence to finish but again, symptom of my adhd, the first book and second book’s first half was fantastic and cute. I just love the headcanon for Clarke

Fix You - angsty but also amazing?

Mystic Coffee - did this inspire fanart or was it inspired by the witch!clarke fanart?

the business of caring - I’m a huge fan of this author’s style of writing, it’s funny and straight to the point and very dry, I read this until 3:30am last night and I had to get up at 6 the next day

what the ground grows - written by the same author and you can see the similarities in voice. Seriously both are amazing but this one is considerably more angsty than the one above

I’m bigger than my body, I’m colder than this home (I’m meaner than my demons, I’m bigger than these bones) - so angsty but so wonderful, I actually cried so hats off to you author…

The Witch of Ceder Plains - a cute two shot

July 4th 2016 - not really a series like the description promises but a very good stand alone story that was well written

If Love Were Enough and the heartbreaking prequal What I Lost In You - both oneshots, both genius

Bury it and Rise Above - mideval oneshot that I love

Ramen, Redbull, and Spite - I need a comic book based off this, it’s genius

find your way to me - fuck this fic, no really, I stayed up till 4am reading it when I had to get up at 8 the next day. Fuck this fucking shit. Mainly fluff until everything falls apart

Sacred Spaces - wasn’t gonna cause it’s just a oneshot and the description is so bad but shit the imagery in here is to die for and I feel like I’m reading a van gogh painting seriously

maybe they will sing for us tomorrow: the only thing I’ve ever printed a hard copy of its my all time favourite probably (description and initial reccomendation by @lexascandlestores)

Everything by this author is so good in the clexa section I would reccomend all of it seriously oh my god

move on me: reincarnation fic that’s really beautiful (description and initial reccomendation by @lexascandlestores)

Against the multiverse: a really fun clever one shot (description and initial reccomendation by @lexascandlestores)

ultraviolet lights - a lexark one shot that headcannons Elyza in a way I haven’t seen her before (a soft gay extra mess)

Hope is the Thing with Feathers (That Perches in the Soul) - I really love the daemon universe even though I’ve seen very little of it. This was very vivid though and had great imagery...

You’re Love Is a Waiting Game - I don’t think the author knew how to end this which is why the ending wasn’t perfect, but it’s overall so amazing I love it and it’s def worth the read

a year of sundays - a bit of a slow read at times and a bit mind boggling at times that they don’t figure it out sooner but very fluffy and amazing and very in character

your hand in mine and it’s sequal your hand in mine (pt. ii) - at the time of my writing this I have not yet finished part two but the first one was mastered so well I can only imagine its counterpart will be of a similar nature. Also there’s smut in this

Nails For Breakfast, Tacks For Snacks - a series about clexa in the middle of a turfwar, it’s just three well written one shots that are gripping and have a lot of imagery and realism.

Something Suspicously Close to Hope - read if you like crying and Stranger Things, it’s a series of one shots about Eleven being adopted by Clexa and I love them

beat the devil’s tattoo - I haven’t read the one for anya but I imagine, if it’s anything like this- it’s pretty darn good

And I am driftwood, found. - really emotional, I read the first part but never finished it but this forced me to go back and reread it. Definitely worth it.

Feels Like Home - a short but satisfying read with very good characterization

a hand to hold on to series - definitely prioritizes family over romance but the kids were very realistic and I liked what they did when they placed Lexa in such a new situation so fast. I feel like people characterize her as bad with kids a lot but I don’t think she was...

or what you will - realiztic and heartfelt, I liked the poetry it was additive and insightful

enchanted. - are there ever enough harry potter AUs? Could’ve done with some more angst but this was acceptable.

She (thefooliam): a classical emotional roommates fic that just nails all the feels (description and initial reccomendation by @lexascandlestores)

This is heaven in hiding: lawyer multi chapter that’s really good and pretty smutty though! ()

Markenland Series - there’s just two right now but I think they plan on writing a third. Anyway, very cute, I loved the characterization and the slowburn but not kill me this is taking too long slowburn

More Women than Warriors - I can’t begin to describe how much I love this, one of my favorite things I’ve read of all time. Please read this.

Empath - gay

Love Is Blindness (I Don’t Want to See) - my dad sat next to the daughter of a notorius kingpin when he was in highschool, once she asked to borrow a pencil and never gave it back and he watched her use it for like three months and said nothing.

Habromaniac: cute one shot ( description and initial reccomendation by @lexascandlestores)

this heart, fossilized and silent (once was tender, and once was violent) - surprisingly little angst after the beginning but in still a very realistic way. very fast paced in terms of action, I certainly was never bored...

Suffrage - there will never be a time when I am not interested in twentieth century, cross dressing, feminist clexa fighting for the rights of women

No Church In The Wild: one of the best heartbreaking canon one shots ever (description and recomendation by @lexascandlestores)

Kiss Me, Kill Me; It’s Just The Same Isn’t It? - lexark, a little bit of poetic fluff thrown in there but it hit just that perfect mix of clexa and lexark, very good

the earth, that is sufficent - written for clexa week I loved every chapter of it. Each peice was a standalone but also worked cohesively with the others. Flawless, seriously.

Into the Wild Blue - I just love southern clexa okay? Leave me alone

it’s called contraband for a reason - written by one of the best clexa authors of all time it’s hilarious, sweet, in character, poignant and well done. At times the format takes away more than it adds but it allows the reader to compare and contrast the beginning and the end and see the character’s develop more clearly.

there is no sweeter innocence (than our gentle sin) - this author may or may not be a genius Imma go binge all of their works and let you know. This was vv good at least. One shot

we’re only young & naive still (the bittersweet between my teeth) - part of that gaf au (you can find here) that I love so much... just a one shot but the different perspectives are done really well which is a hard thing to do well

Before Words, Beyond Silence, and it’s unfinished sequal, In the Screaming Silence - it has that satisfying instant clexa connection while not sacrificing plot or angst, no trust me, it didn’t sacrifice angst. I think the ice queen plot was a little rushed but it’s still fantastic and I’m excited to see where the sequal goes!

Skylark - A superhero fic that’s pretty damn cool. Clarke and the gang had illegal experiments done to them by Mount Weather and it gave them superpowers. They fight crime while trying to remain anonymous as well. This story is so clever and incorporates the City of Light/chips/ flame so cool, and Clexa are badasses, and just…read it, trust me. (Description and initial reccomendation done by @dreamsaremywords on this rec list)

You See The Smile That’s On My Mouth (it’s hiding the words that don’t come out) - A childhood modern au where Clarke and Lexa are fuckin soulmates and best friends and it takes them a ridiculous amount of time to figure that out. (Description and initial reccomendation done by @dreamsaremywords on this rec list)

The World Had Less Color Without You - it’s a college au where Clexa become friends after being paired together for a project, and fall in love even though they’re both terrified of it. (Description and initial reccomendation done by @dreamsaremywords on this rec list)

Love on the Ground - This!! fic!!! is fucking fantastic. Canon-verse, angsty, so, so good. Just read it. (Description and initial reccomendation done by @dreamsaremywords on this rec list)

Mysteries of Love - There’s another apocalypse, but Clexa are soulmates, and there’s a happy ending. (Description and initial reccomendation done by @dreamsaremywords on this rec list)

Essays in Existentialism: FtWD - a writer on tumblr publishes a lot of fics, either multi or oneshots under the ‘essays in exstentialism’ I haven’t read any beyond this lexark multi but this lexark multi was pretty fricken amazing ngl. Unfortunately hasn’t been updated in more than a year so it’s a pretty big risk

You Ask My Name (and All I do is Listen) - I had every sort of feeling about this, it’s super in character and incredibly well done

The Library - a bar au with a perfect mix of instant connection and angst, really well done

possibility days - a celeb au that’s well written and annoyingly filled with useless lesbian themes for both our idiots

Hooked on a feeling - an HP au I waited a million years to be updated and then finally was and what I’m trying to tell you is it’s amazing and worth it and wonderful and fluffy and I’ll love it forever

gera’s step-sister au - a lot of porn, Idk why but I tried to read this a billion years ago but I reread it recently and loved it. But yeah - definition of porn with feelings

Come Morning Light - this author writes a lot of kid fics but this is one of my favorites. In character and well written with a heartbreakingly poetic style. I love it.

most ardently - like some of these authors fics are amazing (like this one) and some are dumb as shit and like? Are there co authors? Are you like multiple people? I don’t know but this was amazing, historical clexa is historical clexa. Has some themes of the suffragette au from my first rec list but carves out a nice space for itself.

Punchline - a oneshot where Clarke wanders around the world and runs into Lexa a lot except it’s angsty and beautiful and there’s a lot of imagery

clexa eternal au - painful heartbreaking well written fantastic. I love most of the stuff by this author too so like you can’t really go wrong

pump mud through my veins - I wasn’t sure about the structure at first but they did something really cool with it and honestly well done

out at sea - okay I saw the tumblr post for this but I gotta say they did something interesting and fun with it and I don’t mind. Well writtten and vv cute

we will meet again - put off reading this because I was prepared for endless heartbreaks. Did happen but totally worth it. Don’t worry there’s a happy ending

Zoo Parks and Restoration - I got annoyed with plot exhaustion but the amount of well done clexa in this made it perfect. I never really like modern aus that much but I love this

The Whore’s Queen - took a little bit to get going but once it did... damn...

We Looked Like Giants - for some reason I put this off but there was no reason to? It’s so good? And very in character?

when my heart is at war - I can’t wait for the sequals, the first one is incredible!

Fall Away - a lot deeper and angstier than the thing got me ready for, really amazing and really well done. Love them lesbians

we could be immortals - put this off for some reason I don’t know why. Very in character, very true to high school I think, and funny and sarcastic and well written. it’s a highschool au but it’s more in character than that, and there’s plenty that links it to canon. I prefer canon tbh, but this was a nice fluff break

The Taste of War and Heartache - angsty and unfinished this is another incredible work by thefooliam. I would ten/ten reccomend because where it leaves off is pretty okay. It’s a canon au but it has some modern elements for those who prefer that. Really a great fic.

Bellamy x Murphy

if you only knew (my heart is breaking) - murphy is immortal and it’s angsty, this actually introduced me to this ship and I don’t normally like mlm but I kinda love this?

cynophilia - geez I don’t know why I love this ship all of a sudden wow

(you owe me twenty) - this actually ends with Murphy and Emori but it’s still super well written and well done

The Good Place

Tahani x Eleanor

True Love Is What Janet and Jianyu Have - this author is actually getting a lot of the second season right tbh

Riverdale/Archie Comics

Beronica

Can I Kiss You?

maybe being in a closet isnt so bad

Real Bisexual Kissing

Thaw - a real fluffy piece that won’t leave you angry and sad at all :)))))))))

Friends Don’t Let Friends Suffer Alone

The list as of 10/1/18

That’s it for now, I’ll probably reblog it with a continued list or post another list later as I go through more fics and more are reccomended and updated and finished. I just thought I’d post it now for obvious reasons...

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cassatine · 7 years ago

Text

This is very interesting. I was wondering what your opinion is on how Rogue One and what the companion novel "Guardians of the Whills", featuring Chirrut and Baze, added to our understanding of the Whills. The Whills seem connected to, but separate from, the Jedi, and possibly lack some of the more problematic aspects of the Jedi order. They also don't seem divided into light/dark lines the way the Jedi and Sith are. Since in "The Last Jedi" it looks like the Jedi are going to be built back up very differently from the way they were in the past, do you see the Whills playing a part in shaping the reformed Jedi order? In particular, the Whills, as seen through Chirrut, seem to have an understanding of the Force that's closer to what Luke was trying to teach Rey - that it should be accessible and understood by all life and not be under the dominion of the Jedi.

I got this question through the blog where I host my Whills meta, and unsurprisingly I had a lot to ramble about say on the matter, so I’m putting my answer here.

First off, I think you might be confusing the Whills and the Guardians of the Whills? They’re very different things:

The Whills are a… huh, we’re not exactly certain, but basically some being(s) pretty much beyond the physical world. Maybe. They’re relatively obscure Lucas lore whose inception and early reception I obsessively covered. I’ve been working on a follow-up since forever.

(There’s also a Shaman of the Whills – I covered that too, but since I’m going for thorough I’m going to point out they’re still a thing, per Qui-Gon’s biography gallery (x, picture 12 of 12). There was tweet from Pablo Hidalgo confirming it’s definitely not a mistake, but it’s been deleted with the rest.)

The Guardians of the Whills, introduced in Rogue One, are an order of warrior monks whose sacred duty is protecting a holy site.

We can expect there’s a connection, but canon doesn’t give much of a direct link between the two beyond the name. Rogue One and its tie-in materials are silent on the Whills themselves – the terms “Whills” only ever appears as part of the title Guardian/Disciple of the Whills and of the name of the Jedha Temple (it’s known as Jedha Temple, Temple of the Kyber, and Temple of the Whills). We’re told nothing on the origins of these names either. For all we know, the building is older than the order, “Guardian of the Whills” is derived from the Temple’s name, and the Guardians don’t know the first thing about the Whills.

So to answer your first question, when it comes to the Whills, Rogue One & co didn’t add anything. Well, there’s the very fact that the Temple and the Guardians exist, whichever come first, so we can suppose the Whills are not a galactic mystery, although probably enshrouded in myth.

There’s quite a bit to learn about the Guardians, tho.

They were one half of their order, the other half being the Disciples of the Whills. When we meet them, they are established on Jedha, a holy site for countless faiths with little in common. We know theirs is an ancient order, “the oldest faith known to be still active on Jedha” (Rogue One Ultimate Visual Guide : 73), but we don’t know that they originated from the moon, nor if they built its Temple. It’s also worth pointing out we meet them not in their heyday, but after having been outlawed by the Empire and near extinction.

Whether or not they built it, Guardians and Disciples are strongly linked to the Temple. In the novelization, Chirrut goes so far as to think that “without the temple he could not truly be a Guardian of the Whills.” (Rogue One novel, Chapter 20) It seems he was not alone in thinking like this; although “rumor was that the Guardians had all left Jedha when the Empire had arrived” (Guardians of the Whills, Chapter 12) other sources hint a portion if not all stayed, ending up arrested or killed by the Empire.

The Guardians of the Whills are described as having been protectors of the Temple in various sources. In the Visual Guide they’re said to be “devoted to protecting the Temple of the Kyber” (Rogue One Ultimate Visual Guide : 90), and in Rebel Dossier, an Alliance memo describes them as an “organization of warriors who defend the Temple of the Kyber as their sacred duty,” adding that they “work to keep Jedha's pilgrims safe”. (Rogue One Rebel Dossier, Republic Intelligence Briefing: The Guardians of the Whills) In a similar vein, Cassian Andor describes them to Jyn Erso as “Protectors of the Temple of the Kyber.” He adds that for them, “anyone who’s not a pilgrim is intruding on holy ground” (Rogue One novel, Chapter 4). Even when near-extinct after having been outlawed by the Empire some remain and try to keep fulfilling that duty.

It seems to the Guardians, being protectors of the Temple doesn’t just mean the building, but also its purpose as a multidenominational place of worship and pilgrimage. As such, it also falls to them to protect the pilgrims, and probably so does the continuation of the Temple’s openness to multiple faiths.

It’s something they train for – Chirrut Imwe, for example, “is a practitioner of zama-shiwo, a Jedha martial art also known as “the inward eye of the outward hand”.” (Rogue One Ultimate Visual Guide : 90) It seems to be the traditional martial art for Guardians, since they are supposed to craft their traditional lightbows “upon completion of the seventh duan – marking the Guardian’s progress to physical perfection.” (Rogue One Ultimate Visual Guide : 97) Reaching physical perfection has more to do with mastery of the self than beating up people, however, and violence seems to be more of a last resort thing. Well, maybe second or third to last would be more accurate. Or it’s-really-a-question-of-circumstances.

The Disciples’ activities also seem to have been centered on the Temple. In Guardians of the Whills Chirrut Imwe tells us that when “the Empire came to Jedha. The Imperials stripped the Temple of its artifacts, of its history. They barred the doors and posted stormtroopers around the perimeter, forbidding entrance if not forbidding devotion. The Disciples of the Whills who had worshipped so diligently for so long had been cast out, and the Guardians who had watched over them with the same vigilance alongside them.” Interestingly, he also describes Guardians and Disciples as “those who had tended the Temple of the Kyber”. (Guardians of the Whills, Chapter One)

The link between Disciples and the Temple is also referenced in the Visual Guide, which tells us the remaining Disciples could “still be seen congregating at the Temple of the Kyber” (Rogue One Ultimate Visual Guide : 73) under imperial rule.

Where the Guardians of the Whills’clear purpose was clearly protecting the Temple and its pilgrims, the Disciples seem to have had been more focused on the spiritual. They also interacted with pilgrims, answering questions, maybe teaching. Research and writing seem to be another activity, with the example of Kozem Pel, who edited Collected Poems, Prayers, and Meditations on the Force, a collection of texts from different traditions. We also know of Killi Gimm, who managed an orphanage under the Empire, but probably did not always do so.

Guardians and Disciples seem to be a case of “two halves of a whole.” The Disciples care about protecting the Temple and its pilgrims as much as the Guardians do, even if they are less directly involved. The Guardians pray and meditate just as the Disciples do.

It’s also noteworthy that the relationship between them is not presented as hierarchical. In fact, during a conversation with Disciple Killi Gimm in Guardians of the Whills, Chirrut says “Understanding the will of the Force was always far more your place than ours, I think. Disciples always seemed the better listeners.” Gimm then replies “And Guardians the better observers, and thus we had a proper balance.” (Guardians of the Whills, Chapter Three).

It’s interesting in itself that they speak in terms of listeners and observers and not, idk, seekers and protectors, and that both listening and observing are reactive rather than active, if that makes sense. And of course the idea of complementariness is there – listening and observing.

So that’s for the basics. Now you mentioned a connexion to the Jedi, and the Guardians do seem to have that. Or an invented connection. It’s not very clear.

Before even going into the Guardians/Jedi maybe-maybe not connection, we’ve got to cover the Jedi’s connection to Jedha quickly, because Jedha happens on to be on historians’ list of possible origin world of the Jedi. According to the Rebel Dossier’s Jedha section, the planet “is one of the oldest worlds associated with the Jedi Order, and some scholars think it is where the Jedi began.” This bit however come just after “The ancient history of Jedha is one of myths and legends. No one can tell where fact ends and storytelling begins,” (Rogue One Rebel Dossier, Location Briefing: Jedha) so one can wonder about where to put the link to the Jedi on the veracity gradient. To add a layer of complexity, the Visual Dictionary tells us “Some insist that this sandy world of ancient spirituality gave its name to the Jedi Order, though most scholars believe it to be the other way around. All agree the history of the Jedi and Jedha are intertwined.” (Rogue One Ultimate Visual Guide : 68).

So overall, there seems to have been a connection between Jedha and the Jedi – I’m pretty sure it’s not that Jedha’s the world where the Jedi Order started, but it’s a relatively well-known location strong in the Force that would hardly have escaped the Jedi’s notice. It’s weird that they didn’t disperse everyone to build their own temple on top of the old one, because that’s what they usually did, but there’s not enough data to do anything but wonder.

Back to the Guardians, the Visual Guide says their “origins are lost to time and inextricably woven into the legends of the Jedi Knight. Some believers insist the Jedi drew inspiration from the followers of Jedha, while historians surmise it’s likely the opposite.” (Rogue One Ultimate Visual Guide : 90) Historians are likely to surmise the opposite as much because facts pointed to it than because the Jedi’s influence extended over more than half the galaxy and their cultural hegemony over Force matters was near-absolute, so YMMV.

(To me, all the in-universe discourse about the origin world of the Jedi is… I love it? It’s so real? People are fascinated with origins, and the way one conceives of beginnings has usually as much, and usually more, to do with cultural context and prenotions, AND LOOK, the galaxy’s historians live in a world in which It Is Known Force shit = Jedi. It’s so not surprising any ancient world linked to the Force is put on the “possible Jedi origin world.” Are they hyperdiffusionists? Those are the questions that keep me up at night. Not.)

Speaking of the automatic Force shit = Jedi assumption, in the Rogue One novel Cassian identifies Chirrut and Baze as Guardians of the Whills and explains to Jyn they protected the Temple before the Empire. Later on, however, having seen Chirrut fight he immediately asks if he’s Jedi, and from there he’ll oscillate between calling Chirrut a Guardian of the Whills and thinking he’s got to be Jedi. The Jedi Order might be some twenty years gone, but in the cultural fabric of the galaxy, they are still very much present.

In a great passage of the Rebel Dossier, an internal Alliance memo cautions against assuming the Guardians are allies of the Alliance, candidly explaining “Their only allegiance is to the will of the Force-but the Jedi Order is no longer around to help them understand what the Force is telling them.” (Rogue One Rebel Dossier, Republic Intelligence Briefing: The Guardians of the Whills)

This is so telling about the way the Jedi are remembered, and really more representative of what members of the Rebel Alliance think the relationship between Jedi and Guardians was like than what it was. Because there’s about nothing hinting to the Guardians needing (or thinking they do) the help of the Jedi to understand the Force, and quite a few things hinting that in fact, they wouldn’t appreciate that very much.

When Cassian asks if Chirrut is a Jedi, Baze only answers “No Jedi anymore. Only dreamers like this fool.” (Rogue One novel, Chapter 4). Kind of noncommittal and doesn’t reveal much on what Baze – himself an ex-Guardian – thinks of Cassian’s assumption. Later in the novelization, however, he tells Chirrut of another Resistance soldier “At least he didn’t ask if you were a Jedi.” (Rogue One novel, Chapter 16) Seems like there’s annoyance with the confusion, at the very least, though like with a lot of things it’s hard to know if it’s really representative of pre-Empire Guardians.

Way more damning is that if the Guardians do seem to believe there are, if not sides, shades to the Force, “Unlike the late departed Jedi, the teachings of the Guardians of the Whills do not emphasize the discord between lightness and darkness. The Guardians believe their approach allows mortal minds to encompass the totality of the Force.” (Rogue One Ultimate Visual Guide : 91) The corollary being they don’t think the Jedi’s approach allows that. Which definitely wouldn’t make the Guardians open the Jedi explaining them the will of the Force.

Of course, the Jedi would doubtlessly say the reverse. But this is clearly important to the Guardians, and most likely linked to their practice of welcoming all sorts of pilgrims, whatever their affiliation. The Guardians of the Whills novel shows how culturally entrenched this belief is, when Chirrut considers “Old Shadows, the long outer wall of the Temple of the Kyber that was forever condemned to remain shielded from sunlight,” and thinks “This, too, had meaning. For the light to exist, there must be the dark. For the Force, there must be balance.” (Guardians of the Whills, Chapter 1)

In connection with this different conception of the Force, they seem to have had very different views on anger. As we learn in the novel, “Baze had heard once—he could not recall from whom—that the Jedi considered anger an abomination; a path to what they called the dark side of the Force. But the Guardians of the Whills were not Jedi; and Baze’s anger was righteous, able to guide his shots where the Force would not.” (Rogue One novel, Chapter 18) In Guardians of the Whills, however, Baze thinks “there was still enough Guardian of the Whills in him that he did not want to kill in anger. His balance had been lost long ago, and whether or not the Force was still truly with him, Baze knew that he was no longer with the Force. But he would not kill in anger, not if he could at all help it.” (Guardians of the Whills, Chapter 2) So I think we can say there’s a difference between righteous anger and… non-righteous anger for the Guardians. The Jedi would disapprove. Anger is anger, and it’s bad.

Speaking of things the Jedi would disapprove of: the Guardians’ attachment to their temple – remember Chirrut Imwe wondering if he can be a Guardian without the Temple? A Jedi would never. And I’m not using attachment lightly, because that’s exactly how a Jedi would call it, and we all know their views on that. In Guardians of the Whills we also learn, through Killi Gimm’s sister Kaya, that Guardians can keep in contact with their families, and that doesn’t vibe very well with the Jedi policy on attachment.

And on that note – the Guardians’ ranks are made up of people who joined with full informed consent. They are open whatever your midi-chlorian count is and wherever you come from, and if the example of Baze Malbus is anything to go by, anyone leaving is not cast out by everyone else.

And the clincher? “Although Chirrut deeply believes in the reality of the Force and respects the former Jedi Order, he knows no one could ever hold a monopoly on understanding the cosmic energy field.” (Rogue One Ultimate Visual Guide : 91) The Jedi Order is not particularly interested in fostering anyone’s viewpoint on the Force but its own (it the good one, after all), whereas the Guardians are. They wouldn’t reject Jedi ideas, but they wouldn’t consider them superior to any other faith’s. I’d go so far as to say that imo, the Jedi’s belief they have a Special Relationship with the Force, would be seen as bordering, if not outright heresy, by the Guardians, whose interest and tolerance of different understandings of the Force is not a “let’s collect all this nice folklore” kind of thing, but rather a “there are many equally worthy paths to truth.”

The Jedi would not approve, and not only because they think they’ve found the good path already. They would also disapprove because the Guardians’ tolerance means they would welcome death cults and thieves and Sith (well not it they’re, you know, actively trying to subjugate their planet, there’s limits to hospitality) and what-have-you the way they would Yoda or some farmer from the ass-end of the galaxy. Most Jedi wouldn’t care about the farmer thing, but they’d probably all have objections to the Sith thing.

There are some similarities between Jedi and Guardians, however, starting with the accent put on martial art training. Zama-shiwo, the local martial art Chirrut practices, has a central pillar that “involves perfection of physical awareness – conscious accounting of a body’s placement, contact and internal functions. It is said that a master of these techniques can alter his heart rate, oxygen intake and vital processes to produce seemingly supernatural effects. This is similar to Jedi physical exercises that emphasizes bodily control – some believe due to a cultural connection with the ancient past.” (Rogue One Ultimate Visual Guide : 90) Considering the Jedi’s traditional recruiting method, it’s dubious the Guardians/Disciples would have counted Force users in their ranks. But if Chirrut’s case is anything to go by they could, through training, including in the martial arts, attune themselves to the Force, learn to feel it and get impressions from it.

Like the Jedi, they have a code of ethics and of conduct, and however, it doesn’t seem particularly less strict. And there are ideological similarities. They live to serve. Accepting your circumstances is expected. So’s mastering the self, from a physical and mental standpoint. Making or letting other suffer the consequences of your choices is a big no.

Anyway, to recap: Rogue One & co told us zilch on the Whills, but it’s introduced the Guardians and Disciples of the Whills, who are probably connected in some way, we’ve just not been told yet. All believers in the Force that they are, those beliefs are quite different from the Jedi’s. There are similarities between them, but we don’t know if it’s down to migration, diffusion, or a plain old case of separate centers of origin. Connected but separate sounds just about right.

But while I’m clearly not the biggest Jedi Order fan (I think they were very wrong on a number of things and that they fucked up big time – lbr, that’s what makes them interesting to me) I don’t particularly think the Guardians should be considered less problematic than the Jedi. I think it’s a matter of point of view? Tumblr’s made me extremely adverse to the term tbh, so there’s that.

And despite my ability to ramble on, we don’t know that much about the Guardians in the end. For all we know their history is just as ugly as the Jedi’s. Maybe they got to keep Jedha out of the Jedi’s thumb because in exchange they send their high-midi-chlorian-count to Coruscant nicely.

And now, your final question – do I see the Guardians play a role in the reshaping of the Jedi Order?

No. I really, really don’t. There’s nothing to set that up, and it just wouldn’t… Like I get the appeal of the idea (is there fic), but it wouldn’t serve the story. I’m a relativist when it comes to the rules of writing, but seriously, where’s the set-up.

Then there’s the simple fact that this kind of connectivity is actually hard to do. To bring the Guardians of the Whills in, you’d have to take two audience in consideration – the one that doesn’t know what the fuck a Guardian of the Whills is, because you can’t assume your audience has seen more than the main movies (if even). And the one that wants to know what the fuck they’re doing here when Jedha was blown up. As far as we know, the Guardians are all but extinct post Rogue One. If some turned up, either they’d have been young when Jedha was destroyed, or there’s been enough survivors they regrouped and rebuild. They’d have lost their Temple along with most of their planet. Why would they even care to help rebuilding the Jedi Order?

IX would not go there imo – it’s the last episode of a trilogy, it’s already got a lot to wrap up, and it’s a movie, so pacing-wise it doesn’t have the room of a tie-in novel or comics. But even in tie-in materials, it’s not the kind of decision you take lightly – it’s not a quick reference, or an already well-known location. Moreover, it’s Force lore, and “you don’t fuck with Force lore” is one of the Story Group’s motto.

So it boils down to, would it be worth it? Doubt it.

The trilogy of trilogies is, among other things, about fall and rebirth of the Jedi, and if we look at the line of master-students behind Rey, who’s set-up to do that rebuilding… We’ve got Yoda and Obi-Wan, who’d realized the Jedi made a mistake somewhere down the line. We’ve got Luke, he of the Force lore quests and compassion as great as his disillusionment. It’s a fail-and-learn-a-lesson arc, at the scale of an institution and spread over generation. Lessons were learned and passed down, and now it’s up to Rey.

And she’s already all good! She’s learned from Kylo Ren when she downloaded the [Force] folder in his brain during his failed attempt of an interrogation. She’s learned from Luke what he deemed to be the most important lessons he had to impart. She’s had her Cave Trial! She stole the Jedi texts! Like she learns from both a darksider and a heir of the Jedi tradition, goes beyond what both teachers have to offer (rejecting Kylo Ren’s offer of teaching and going to the forbidden Mirror Cave), so at this point in her arc, having a bunch of Wise People pop up to show her how to Jedi would be a disservice to her story imo.

So overall I don’t think it’s impossible someone will turn up, but I don’t think it’s a very likely option.

#star wars #meta #jedi order #guardians of the whills #the last jedi #the far future #the force #tag later #i kinda ran out of steam so there's probably more to say #but i have to stop at some point #this is long already

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momscookingthebooks · 7 years ago

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Release Blitz & Excerpt

Title: Rough Rider

Series: Standalone

Author: Aria Cole

Publication Date:

#NewRelease #AriaCole #RoughRider #Instalove #RideACowboy #HotRead #OneClickIt

Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2wE43bh

Synopsis:

After years of living alone, Nash Campbell sets eyes on curvy beauty Eden Sutherland again, the day she steps out of her brother's pickup truck and falls directly into his arms. He may have made a promise to her brother to take care of her, but it isn't long before Nash is fixed on wrangling his best friend's little sister into his bed—and his life. Eden Sutherland enjoys living alongside her brother in the old farmhouse where they grew up, but when he's deployed, she's uprooted to Circle C Ranch and dumped in the arms of her brother's best friend, irritatingly moody and maddeningly sexy cowboy Nash Campbell. The boy who pulled her pigtails and made the butterflies jump in her stomach for the first time when they were kids. She may have grown up running through the pastures at Circle C, but that doesn't mean seeing Nash again is easy on the heart. She's been purposefully avoiding this man for years, and now she has to call him roommate… Warning: When this filthy-talkin' cowboy falls, it's hard and fast. Insta-love obsessed, countrified goodness is the best way to describe this rough rider. Sit back, relax, and grab a sweet tea, it's about to he heart. She may have grown-get sticky down south.

Purchase Link: Amazon: smarturl.it/RoughRiderAC

ONE

Eden

I wrung my hands in my lap, eyes focused on the long gravel driveway that led to my imprisonment.

“You know, I don’t need a babysitter,” I spat to my brother in the driver’s seat.

“Sweet young girl like you, you most certainly do. These damn cowboys would eat you alive,” he drawled, eyes cutting to me then back to the windshield. The old truck rattled to a sputtering stop in front of the giant red barn I spent too many summer nights playing hide-and-seek in.

“I’m not sweet or young. Since I've managed to handle you my whole life, I figure these cowboys will be easy.” I shoved open the door of the truck, storming off with a desperate slam of the door for dramatic effect. But instead, it squawked on its rusty hinges. Baxter, the old golden retriever that’d been wandering this dusty ranch since the time I was eight, rambled up to me. I knelt down and put my arm around the old dog, giving him a good rub. His scent was so familiar, just as it had been all those years ago. I closed my eyes, sucking in a fortifying breath before I faced the man who inhabited this place.

“Welcome, Eden.” His throaty voice sent fire through my veins, just like it always had. My cheeks flamed, hands shoved into the pockets of my cutoff shorts when Nash Campbell’s dusty cowboy boots came into view.

I wanted to die.

Colt, Nash, and I may have grown up together on this ranch, bonfires and swimming in the pond from sunup to sundown, but I hadn’t laid eyes on him in nearly two years. And there was a reason for it.

“Hey.” Colt came around the back of the pickup and pulled two giant duffles out of the bed. “She’s not too pleased ’bout me dropping her off here, but she’ll grow up and see I was right. Someday.” Colt shot me a glare.

“I should have gone away to college,” I grumbled. I still hadn’t looked Nash in the face yet.

I couldn’t. One look into those intense eyes would have me lost. It'd been too long, and those feeling and memories were still all twisted into knots from my head to my toes. The worst place those knots tangled around was my heart.

There was too much history wrapped up in my feelings for him. Nash and my brother had been best friends since the time they were in diapers, and then I came along five years later, the annoying, tagalong little sister. They’d picked on me relentlessly, daring me to eat bugs and touch garden snakes, and then the teen years had hit, and everything changed.

Nash’s voice had deepened, suddenly sending spirals of excitement through my nine-year-old stomach. And then dark stubble smattered his cheeks and jawline, and I couldn't help thinking about what the scratchy scruff would feel like against my skin. And by the time Nash was fifteen, he was working in the field or around the barns all summer. Slinging hay bales six hours a day did a lot for his once lean, taut physique.

Nash had bloomed into a damn Adonis right before my eyes, his body rivaling the sketches of David I’d seen in my art class.

I fell in love with Nash Campbell the summer I turned eleven.

While my brother still seemed perpetually immature and annoying, Nash’s confidence grew, his eyes lighting with genuine kindness whenever he saw me. I’d never met anyone like him back then, and I still hadn’t now. Nash was a once in a lifetime dream—a dream that was unattainable. Like a mirage, a faint whisper on the wind. A man like Nash would never want someone like me, but still, that didn’t matter to my heart. When I thought of him, I was still that eleven-year-old little girl who fell in love with a boy she could never have.

That was probably why today was all the harder.

Colt was leaving for his deployment in the Army, and I was moving in here, with my brother’s best friend, at Circle C Ranch.

“Got your room all made up for you, the corner room upstairs, the one you used to sleep in when we were little.” Nash was addressing me.

Oh shit, that meant I’d have to actually look him in the face. I’d been considering a way to avoid his eyes for the entire time I was here, which would hopefully just be the summer. Colt didn’t know it, but I’d already filled out a few applications for colleges. I’d been going to the community college in our small town, but now that Colt wouldn’t be here, I didn't have a reason to stay.

Living on my own would be tight, but I was accustomed to making do on a budget. I just had to hope I would be awarded a few grants or scholarships for housing. I could afford the classes for the coming semester at least, but I couldn't pay for the housing on top of that.

And I needed to get out of this town.

I needed to get away from all these memories.

The gorgeous, impossibly sculpted, stubbled, and rugged memories. “Thanks,” I finally muttered, allowing my eyes to wash across Nash’s face for the first time.

Oh God, was that my heart beating so loudly?

It sounded like a John Deere vibrating in my ears.

“I can get this carried up for you. Dinner’s at five, so you've got some time to settle in before—”

“I’m not hungry. I had a big lunch,” I lied.

Colt shook his head at my side. “She’s lying. If you don’t force her to eat, she’ll peck like a bird.”

My cheeks flamed as my teeth gnashed together. “I thought you had somewhere to be tonight?”

Colt chuckled, taking off ahead of us toward the house.

“Still treating you like a dick, I see,” Nash said at my shoulder.

Shit, when had he moved closer?

This was too much. His body so close to mine felt like a ticking time bomb waiting to detonate.

“He says he means well, but I personally think it’s a control thing.”

“Can’t blame him. A man should take care of his only sister. I’d do the same thing.”

I chanced a glance out of the corner of my eye, catching his gaze hovering at my neckline, then dipping lower.

My stomach dropped, my feet screaming at me to run before I made a fool of myself somehow. I’d never known quite how to act around men, especially this one, when it felt like he stole all the oxygen from my lungs with one look.

“Maybe you’re on a power trip too, then,” I finally replied, stomping in the dirt after Colt and toward the house.

I was a prisoner here; there was nothing willing about it.

If Colt and Nash thought I needed a babysitter, that I couldn't be left to my own devices, I’d sure as hell prove them wrong—and have fun while doing it.

No way could they keep this woman down.

“Eden!” Nash called after me, amusement lacing his voice.

I stuttered to a halt, turning to find him hot on my heels, an intoxicating half grin darting across his face.

“What?” I asked.

“You have no idea what kind of power play I’m into. Keep that in mind.” That cocky grin deepened, and my thighs grew slick with drop-dead desire.

Oh, shit.

What the hell was I in for this summer?

About the Author:

Aria Cole is a thirty-something housewife who once felt bad for reading dirty books late at night, until she decided to write her own. Possessive alpha men and the sassy heroines who love them are common, along with a healthy dose of irresistible insta-love and happily ever afters so sweet your teeth may ache. For a safe, off-the-charts HOT, and always HEA story that doesn't take a lifetime to read, get lost in an Aria Cole book! Follow Aria on Amazon for new release updates, or stalk her on Facebook and Twitter to see which daring book boyfriend she's writing next! Sign up to get a NEW RELEASE ALERT from me! http://eepurl.com/ccGnRX

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#release blitz #contemporary romance #standalone #cowboy #Rough Rider #Aria Cole #Hosted by Ardent Prose PR

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jo-the-schmo · 8 years ago

Text

Breaking... Ch.3

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: So this chapted is short and kinda boring, sorry about that. I’m mostly using it as set up for the rest of plot. Also I will warn y’all now, time jumps will be a thing, not in this chapter but in the next one. I hope you guys enjoy even if its terrible <3 Tags: @iamnotthrowingawaymyshit @literally-melonkitty @deltablue202 @renae-writes

I had to re-add the tags sorry guys ;-;

Word count: 2081

Warnings: Vomit, Shakespeare (very important sorry), curing is ineivtable for me.

Breaking Boundaries

As the three of you entered into the study you instantly felt the air change. Alexander and Philip were both being oddly quiet. They both walked past you, Alexander sat down at his desk and Philip stood beside him while you were standing in the center of the room. You shot them an inquisitive look, Alexander’s eyes seemed to be searching yours for an answer to some unspoken question. Philip seemed to be debating with himself about something.

“Is something wrong?” You finally asked after a moment of uncomfortable silence. Alexander sighed.

“Miss Y/N, your story is not something that anyone with honor should take lightly. I practiced law, I practically perfected it. As a lawyer I would suggest you stand trial against this ‘suitor’ so that he can be put through the proper punishment for his crimes.” His face was serious but not cold. Philip moved around the desk.

“Father’s right, you can stay with us as long as you’d like but it might be wise to find him.” Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! Last time I had this talk with anyone I agreed. But… I can’t agree to this, in this time there is no guy to put away. I wish I had a name to give them, they really look like they want to help.

“I’m sorry but I can’t give you a name. If he finds out that I’ve been conspiring against him, it will not end well. I appreciate how much you want to help me; I really do, but this isn’t something that I can disclose just yet.” I won’t be here long anyways, or hopefully I guess. Philip stepped up to you, his eyes were filled with sorrow, he was sorry on your behalf.

“If you cannot tell us his name then at least give us your last name so that we may be on the lookout for anyone speaking of you.” He said with care. I don’t want to make this any more complicated than what it has to be, but they just want to help me so much… Okay, I’ve already told Rachel my real last name but if I give them a fake one right now I can give her a reason not to tell them. Generic name, what’s a generic name I can say? Philip stared down at you with a pleading expression against his artful features.

“Fine… Taylor, Y/N Taylor.” Was that even a common name during this era?

“Taylor? I do not know of any person who goes by that name…” Alexander was a genius; I have to be careful!

“My family is from England but I was born here, my father immigrated here and began his career in North Carolina, most of our wealth came from before my parents settled here.” Was that convincing? Please tell me it was. Alexander nodded along, he didn’t seem satisfied with how the conversation turned but he was understanding.

“Very well, but just remember this Miss Y/N, you are welcome here. As an orphan myself, I have a tender spot in my heart for those who have come from that background. If you ever change your mind and you wish to take my advice, do not hesitate to ask.” He gave you a warm smile but Philip still didn’t look pleased. He forced on a smile, clearing his throat before he spoke.

“Would you like to sit down?” Your eyes softened. Is he disappointed in me or something?

“Yes, I would actually.” You chuckled tiredly and Philip followed you to the couch you were previously sitting at, your book still lying on the cushions. Quickly picking it up, you eagerly flipped to the page you left off on.

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream? One of Shakespeare’s lesser appreciated works on page.” Philip said as he sat down beside you, Alexander perked his head up.

“Ah, an intriguing choice, I do not see many choosing to read that, most people favor Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet or my own personal choice, Macbeth.” Alexander stated while simultaneously asking you as to why you chose that.

“I enjoy the complexity of it. Shakespeare has a bit of a habit to making simple stories seem complex. Romeo and Juliet for example, it’s a beautiful story but it isn’t difficult to summarize. Romeo and Juliet, not meant to fall in love, their fear to tell the truth causes the deaths of two of their closest compatriots and their own deaths. But this story takes those same ideas and truly makes them complex. The anguish and history between all the characters makes the ending more interesting…” You realized you were rambling. Damn you Shakespeare for instilling my need to dissect everything! Alexander nodded along in agreement. Philip simply stared at you in awe, a familiar smile dancing on his lips.

“You have quite the mind Miss Y/N! I must say, your character reminds me very much of Titania, very tactful and… forthright seems to be the right word.” Alexander chuckled to himself.

“Really? I’ve always seen myself more as Helena.” You retorted. Alexander looked oddly surprised by the statement.

“I would be inclined to agree with Father, if Titania were to not have fallen in love with Oberon and Theseus. Her feelings for them always confused me about her character.” Philip said with thought.

“Right? How did such a strong woman fall for such horrible people?” It was rare for you to find someone who understood your ideas on literature. Most people think I’m weird when I talk about how much I love Shakespeare…

“Everyone has their flaws I suppose, hers seemed to be a poor taste in men.” Philip shrugged.

“Well, then I suppose it’s good that I don’t have that flaw right?” He quickly caught on to your subtle jab about his flirting earlier. His eyes were wide as you started to laugh at your own joke.

“Miss Y/N, I’m sure I do not know what you mean by that statement. I am the model gentleman and I will not stand for such accusations!” Philip responded with playful offence.

“How dare you, sir! Are you trying to insinuate something?” You made out between bursts of laughter. Alexander chuckled lightly at the two you, happy tears rolling down both of your cheeks. He looked outside and quickly stood up, getting yours and Philip’s attention.

“It’s getting late; Philip don’t you have work to do?” Alexander asked while putting his glasses down onto the table. Philip sighed and stood up.

“It isn’t that late Father, besides Y/N’s room may not be finished yet.” Philip gave an exaggerated hand motion towards you.

“No, no it’s fine! I don’t want to distract you from schoolwork or anything!” You hopped up off the couch and put the book back on the shelf where you found it. Philip followed you over to the door.

“Thanks for letting me use your study Alex.” You called out before leaving the room. Alex was too surprised by the name to call back out. Philip followed you out until you both made your way back to the main hall.

“I wish we could converse longer but Father is right, I must retire to my chambers for work. I…enjoyed your company today, that means I look forward to tomorrow as well.” Philip said with a sly smile.

“If you can handle my strong opinions on literature, music and society in general then I look forward to tomorrow as well.” You responded with a chuckle. You both said goodnight to each other, soon after Rachel found you and told you that your room was ready.

That night you were given a room in the serving quarters, next to Rachel’s room. She gave you a night dress and laid in the shockingly soft bed, your thoughts swirling. Maybe this is all a bad dream. Maybe not a bad dream per say but a dream nonetheless. If I fall asleep, I’ll wake up in my own bed in my own apartment and in my own modern time period. Just close your eyes Y/N. You didn’t realize that you were tired until that thought faded away and left you in the darkness of your subconscious. You saw something in the darkness, a small light, a blue light. Light is usually linked to the idea of heat and safety but for some reason this one didn’t. It was cold and foreboding, you didn’t like it. The light came closer and as it began to engulf your body, you heard a sound, something wooden slamming against something else and then your own voice.

“Excuse me!”

When you opened your eyes again you were still in the bed, still wearing the slightly scratchy gown, breaking out in a cold sweat. What the hell was that? That was…suffocating. Whatever… Everything happening right now is weird, just something new to add to the list I guess. You stretched out, got up and attempted to put back on the clothes that were given to you. Attempted being the operative word, you had to ask Rachel for help with tying the back. After that the both of you made your way down the halls.

“The first thing we will do today is check on Mrs. Hamilton, that’s the first thing we do every day actually.” She spoke with glee.

“Nice, so what exactly are-“ You were interrupted by a sound that made you feel squeamish. Coming from a room a few feet ahead of us. Rachel immediately ran for the door, you followed close behind. Busting into the room you both soon saw a disheveled Eliza, hunched over on the floor by her bed. Her face was half inside a wooden bucket, making noises that was a mixture of gurgling and gagging. Rachel made her way to her, pulled her hair back and patted her shoulder comfortingly. Eliza continued to vomit into the bucket for some time before she was finally given a chance to steady herself. You sat down beside her and looked her worriedly.

“Are you alright Eliza? Are you sick? Do you need a doctor? Rachel, should we go find a doctor?” You started to rattle off questions as the possibilities grew. Eliza shook her head, her eyes glassy as Rachel wiped the sweat off her brow.

“No, no Dear, I am perfectly fine. I am merely expecting!” She said weakly. Wait, expecting? Oh my god…

“You’re pregnant? That’s why your dress was… Eliza you are incredible!” You smiled at her happily, she looked confused for a moment.

“Incredible? I would not say that, although I am excited for this child.” She responded. This woman is the best person to ever exist. Not only is she the closest thing the United States ever had to royalty but she also deserved that shit! On top of everything she manages to have children and still be the best? Role Model of the year!

“Y/N, could you give me a hand with Mrs. Hamilton? I understand if you do not wish to clean out the bucket but if you could help her dress I would be very appreciative.” Rachel said as she helped Eliza to sit on her bed.

“I can clean the bucket, I don’t mind.”

“Truly? Thank you very much.” She picked up the bucket by the sides and handed it to you. “Take this outside to the garden, you will find a watering pump to clean it out.” She instructed you. You nodded and made your way down the hallways and out the back door in the kitchen. The garden was very beautiful, most of the plants seemed to be placed at random and yet it was still visually pleasing. No wonder Eliza likes it out here. You found the pump and quickly cleaned the bucket. Poor Eliza, pregnancy is rough. Once the bucket seemed clean you made your way back inside, intending on going back to Rachel and Eliza. Instead you stopped when you heard the sound of hooves and carriage wheels. Stepping inside the main room, the front door burst open and you were greeted with the site of an oddly distressed Alex. He mumbled something under his breath but stayed almost completely still, looking like the apocalypse had just begun.

“Alex? Are you alright? Did something happen?” You asked with concern. He looked over at you as you walked over to him, his voice was low and exasperated.

“John Adams just withdrew my seat in office.” He said with panic.

John Fat Motherfucking Adams!

#hamilton #hamilton the musical #hamilton fanfic #alexander hamilton #Philip Hamilton #alexander x reader #philip x reader #eliza schuyler #time travel au #CAN WE GET BACK TO POLITICS #lafayette #mulligan #thomas jefferson #james madison #john adams

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sartle-blog · 8 years ago

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Women’s Day is Finally Here!

Fair warning: if you do not want to hear my incessant ramblings about how glorious vaginas are, click away now. Seriously though, I am about to talk about vaginas…like A LOT. That said, this blog is not about my infatuation with the vajayjay but rather a tribute to some of the most badass female artists in history. With Women’s Day upon us, it only seems fitting to give a shout out to those trailblazing feminist artists who forged their way into a patriarchal art world replete with a penchant for nudity and equipped with the message that women deserve equal treatment in the arts.

Throughout most of history, women found their place in the arts on the canvas rather than standing behind the easel. When looking around the world’s greatest museums you will likely find a whole lot of naked women lounging about, and while I am not complaining about getting to soak up the splendor of the female physique there is an important caveat we need to examine: almost all of these paintings were created by men. Then the 1960s hit. Women began to experience a lot more personal freedoms; oral contraceptives were introduced and the right to take them was quickly protected by all states, more women than ever were entering the workforce, and soon abortion would be protected under the constitution. The sexual revolution was upon us, and with it came the shattering of restrictive social taboos.

Building on the momentum of the changing times, women started pumping out work that not only spoke to the struggles faced by their gender but demanded that people give women the credit they deserve. The Feminist Art Movement was marked by a plethora of blatantly shocking work that could not be ignored. So here’s to the ladies who used their bodies to smash the patriarchy and allowed women to find their rightful place equally amongst men in the art world!

Judy Chicago

When examining this movement, I cannot think of a better place to start than with Judy Chicago, the woman who coined the term “feminist art”. Chicago was one of the driving forces behind the Feminist Art Movement, and her piece The Dinner Party has become the ultimate symbol female empowerment in the arts. Chicago felt the need to honor women throughout history who did not get enough props so she decided what better way to do so than slap their vulvas on a dinner plate and call it good. While we should all probably get the name of her caterer, the real point of this work is to highlight what it means to be a woman and remind us of the invaluable role we have played throughout history. Plus if for nothing else, this piece can make all the slightly childish and inappropriate people like myself chuckle at the double entendre of “eating out.”

The Dinner Party by Judy Chicago, Brooklyn Museum

Carolee Schneemann

Here we have the “cunt mascot on the men’s art team” (yes, she actually called herself that). As to be expected of any woman who self-identifies in such a crass way, she was not exactly the most reserved of people. No, I am pretty sure Carolee Schneemann had no shame. Schneemann used her career and bodily fluids to crush sexism in the art world. Feeling that the public needed to be more educated on feminism, Schneemann created her outlandish performance piece, Interior Scroll, in which she romped around an exhibition naked and proceeded to pull a scroll about feminism out of her hooha. Besides putting all magicians to shame with their antiquated rabbit out of the hat trick, Schneemann took such an overt approach to her work, there was no way the world was going to ignore her.

Interior Scroll by Carolee Schneemann, Tate Modern *Because we want to promote this on social media we are required to censor this artwork due to Facebook’s puritanical views on the human body. You can see the actual artwork by clicking the link above.*

Faith Ringgold

Faith Ringgold’s struggle for representation in the art world would be enough to snag her a spot on this list, but the fact alone that she used to go into museums and leave menstrual pads with the message “50% Women” written on them totally solidifies her spot amongst the most badass feminist artists. Ringgold built a career challenging race and gender conventions through her story quilts. Her work, The Picnic at Giverny, flips art historical norms on their heads. In this piece we see a woman of color painting a nude man, thus doing a total 180 in terms of tradition. Finally some dude nudes!

The Picnic at Giverny by Faith Ringgold

Barbara Kruger

Barbara Kruger knows we are all suckers for marketing. Rather than trying to sell us the next great exfoliant though, Kruger utilizes her advertorial aesthetic to push her feminist agenda, and boy am I buying it. Kruger created Untitled (Your Body is a Battleground) to use as a visual aid for the Women March on Washington in the 1980s to remind us all that, while the Supreme Court protected abortion in 1973, this brawl over our bodies still rages on. Almost 40 years later, this piece is as relevant and poignant as ever.

Untitled (Your Body is a Battleground) by Barbara Kruger, The Broad

Yoko Ono

When thinking about Yoko Ono, most associate her with her third husband John Lennon. While she may have been out shined by the infamous Beatle, Ono rode no coattails on her path to stardom. In fact, she made her iconic work, Cut Piece, five years before she got hitched to the musician. Considered by many to be the first piece of feminist performance art, Ono sat motionless on stage (dressed to the nines might I add), and had the audience come up and cut her clothing off her body. While there are about a billion and a half interpretations for this work, most agree that this piece speaks to the passive and vulnerable role that women have traditionally taken on and how that can potentially lead to sexual violence. Ono may have broken up The Beatles, but her destructive nature also helped obliterate harmful gender stereotypes as well.

Cut Piece by Yoko Ono

Guerrilla Girls

At Sartle, we go bananas for the Guerrilla Girls. This band of babes has all the qualities we covet: a feminist agenda, shocking fun facts about the art world, and an irresistible air of mystery. While some naysayers may attribute the masks to a chronic case of butter face, these ladies don their hairy attire to protect their identity while fighting the patriarchy. In their piece The Advantages of Being a Woman Artist, they highlight all the great aspects of being a female artist such as working without the pressure of success and seeing your ideas live on in the work of others. Besides being gloriously cheeky, these women have shown the art world that gender equality is much more than just monkey business.

The Advantages of Being a Woman Artist by Guerrilla Girls, Brooklyn Museum

Shirin Neshat

Given the current state of American politics, Shirin Neshat’s work is as powerful and important as ever. Examining notions of femininity in relation to Islamic fundamentalism, Neshat explores how women can prevent sexualization and achieve equality. In one of her earliest photographs, Unveiling, Neshat is wearing a chador (the Iranian version of a hijab) in order to understand how oppression and freedom of expression can take similar forms. Additionally, she has an Iranian poem written across her face. Poetry has traditionally been a place for Islamic women to share their voice and perspective. Neshat does a stunning job of showing how femininity and gender equality can present itself in vastly different shapes across cultural lines. No wonder she has been dubbed artist of the decade and one of the most inspiring women today.

Unveiling by Shirin Neshat, Whitney Museum of American Art

Lynda Benglis

Lynda Benglis spent her entire career crusading for women in the arts, yet there is one very clear moment in which people decided she was a feminist artist. Needless to say, that moment still involved a penis. The year was 1974, and the world was about to receive the best dick pic to date. Benglis wanted to make a stand against male-domination in the art world, and what better way to do that she figured than to drop trou, oil herself up, and pose with a giant dildo between her legs. While this photo may be the shining beacon of her feminist ideals, Benglis never ceased making work that spoke to the issues of femininity in our culture.

Artforum Ad by Lynda Benglis *Because we want to promote this on social media we are required to censor this artwork due to Facebook’s puritanical views on the human body.*

Catherine Opie

When talking about abolishing gender norms, we cannot forget about Catherine Opie. She is considered a master of capturing the American identity, which to her means drag, the LGBTQ community, and a whole lotta BDSM. Opie takes photos that crawl into your head and never leave, such as her work Self Portrait. Opie carves the American Dream into her back, but rather than showing a man and women with their golden retriever and white picket fence, she shows two women in a loving embrace. Would ya know it, Opie feels LGBTQ couples deserve all the same rights as straight couples, and she uses her artistic prowess and masochistic love of pain to create an image you will never forget.

Self Portrait by Catherine Opie, Museum of Contemporary Art Los Angeles

There are so many women we should pay tribute to on this important holiday, but unfortunately there is not enough time in the day to tip our hats to all the ladies who have pushed us closer to gender equality, so I will leave you here to chew on my personal favorite feminist artists and some of their iconic work.

By: Jennifer

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