#so I am saving fairly often so I will know where that point is and know not to go past it until I've gotten all the upgrades and whatnot :P

[vanessagillings]

I’m posting the ever-so-rare photo of myself alongside one of my characters based on my childhood because today is World Autism Acceptance Day, and I wanted to show my little corner of the internet who this particular autistic person is:  

I was officially diagnosed in February, at age 38 (I’m now 39). A lot of people thought I couldn’t be autistic.  Some people who know me in real life still don’t.  And until around 10 years ago, I didn’t think I could be either, because I was nothing like the stereotype media portrays. I was told that autistics lacked empathy (untrue), and never played make-believe (also often untrue) and only enjoyed STEM.  I was — and am — an empathetic artist -- and make believe?  I can spend days sketching finely bedecked bears brewing tea or carefully choosing the right words to weave tapestries of fiction — though perhaps my hyper focus was a bit of a red flag.  Even so, how could autism describe me?  I was a good student.  I got straight A's. I didn’t act out in class.  I can make eye contact…if I must.  And lots of girls hate having their hair brushed with an unholy passion, right?  Clearly I swim in sarcasm like a fish, so autism couldn't be why I was so anxious all the time, could it?

If someone had told me when I was younger what autism ACTUALLY is — instead of the nonsense I’d seen on screens — I would have seen myself in it.  I didn’t hear that autistics have sensory issues until I was in my mid-twenties, which is when I first began to really research autism symptoms, and I had almost all of them:  sensitivity to light, smells, fabrics, temperatures, textures, and certain touches, all of which make me feel anxious, I fidget (stim), I never know what the hell to do with my hands or where to look, I talk too little or too much, I have special interests, I have entire animated movies memorized shot-by-shot and can remember the first time and place I saw every movie I've ever seen but I often forget what I'm trying to say mid-sentence, I echo movies and tv shows (my husband and I have a whole repertoire of shared echolalias, making up about 20% of our conversations), I was in speech therapy as a kid, I have issues with dysnomia and verbal fluency, I toe-walk, I can't multitask to save my life, I like things just-so, I’m deeply introverted but not shy, I need to recover from all social interaction — even social interaction I enjoy — and I find stupid, every day things like grocery shopping, driving and making appointments overwhelming and intensely stressful, sometimes to the point where I struggle to speak.  It turns out, I am definitely autistic. My results weren't borderline. Not even close. And while these aren’t all of my challenges, and not everyone with these symptoms is autistic, it’s definitely something to look into if you present with all of these things at once. 

So why did it take me so long to get diagnosed? The same bias that exists in media threads through the medical community as well, and because I'm a woman who can discuss the weather while smiling on cue, few people thought I was worth looking into. Even after I was fairly certain I was autistic, receiving an official diagnosis in the US is unnecessarily difficult and expensive, and in my case, completely uncovered by my insurance.  It cost me over $4000, and I could only afford it because my husband makes more money than I do as a freelance illustrator — a job I fell into largely because it didn’t require in-person work; like many autists, I have been chronically underemployed and underpaid, in part due to physical illness in my twenties, which is a topic for another day.  But it shouldn’t be like this.  It shouldn’t be so hard for adults to receive diagnoses and it shouldn’t be so hard for people to see themselves in this condition to begin with due to misinformation and stereotypes. Like many issues in America, these barriers are even higher for marginalized groups with multiple intersectionalities. 

It’s commonly said that if you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person.  This is why it’s called a spectrum, not because there’s a linear progression of severity (someone who appears to have low support needs like myself might need more than it seems, and vice versa), but because every autistic person has their own strengths and weaknesses, challenges and experiences, opinions and needs.  No two people on the spectrum present in the same way.  And that’s a good thing!  No way of being autistic is inherently any better than any other, and even if someone on the spectrum struggles with things I don’t — or can do things I can’t — doesn’t make them more or less deserving of respect and human dignity.

But speaking solely for myself, the more I learn about autism, the happier I am to be autistic.  I struggle to find words and exert fine motor control, but my deep passion and fixation has made me good at art and storytelling anyway.  I find more joy watching dogs and studying leaf shapes on my walks than most people do in an entire day.  More often than not, the barriers I’ve faced weren’t due to my autism directly, but due to society being overly rigid about what it considers a valid way of existing.  My hope in writing this today is that maybe one person will realize that autism isn’t what they thought — and that being different is not the same as being less than. My hope with my fiction is to give autistic children mirrors with which to see themselves, and everyone else windows through which to see us as we actually are.

If you’re interested in learning more about autism or think you might be autistic, too, I recommend the Autism Self Advocacy Network  autisticadvocacy.org and the following books:

What I Mean When I Say I’m Autistic by Annie Kotowicz

We're Not Broken by Eric Garcia

Knowing Why edited by Elizabeth Bartmess

Unmasking Autism by Devon Price, PhD

Loud Hands edited by Julia Bascom

Neurotribes by Steve Silberman

(trigger warning: the last two contain quite a lot of upsetting material involving institutionalized child abuse, but I think it’s important for people to know how often autistic children were — and are — abused simply for being neurodivergent).

Thanks for reading 💛

[mayohigan-orange]

Just as a random note~

I have played through Mass Effect and am now on Mass Effect 2

And, surprisingly probably no-one, my Shepherd is mostly paragon.

You might say it’s because I’m a weenie...

And you’d be right :P

[shorthaltsjester]

there are literally no standouts in downfall because everyone sat down at that table and said hey you wanna see something cool and proceeded to Become their characters but idk if it’s because they’re beside each other and that aids the dynamic or just because it’s the delicious similarities and insurmountable distance between the god of death and the god of (in various ways) life but ayden and emhira’s interactions were so chewy and delicious. i’ll be thinking of their exchange fairly early on after ayden cast lesser restoration on that old man and emhira not cruelly but just simply stating “you cannot heal everything.” and ayden’s equally simple reply “we can always try.” emhira seeing the family trist has built and wondering at the presence of children, “surprised there is laughter in such a horrible place” and i know she’s speaking of hawk’s hill but i wonder if she is also speaking of exandria itself in some ways. the delicious space between in and out of character that only really happens in improv stories where as brennan is narrating and says “in this dark room” and nick interrupts and adds “it is not dark.” brennan’s incisive point in the cooldown that while the love that ayden and trist have for mortals and for exandria is warm and the kind of love someone would likely Want from gods, there is something maybe more honest or whole about emhira who says . actually these mortals are little shits that will kill you not because they fear you but because they hate you. whose very existence should be (and still often fails to be) a reminder that the gods can be usurped by mortals. the insight nick shared in the cooldown that ayden does not forget emhira’s origins but in a way dismisses them, that the god of death is a different beast. ayden wanting to find. way to save the people of aeor, insisting that the prime deities Win if they can find a way to do so. emhira reminding everyone that death is inevitable (and she does not add anything to clarify that she intends such a statement to only exist for mortals) as she argues for them to work to take down aeor and the people in it. the fact that the god with the most present connection to mortality is also the one given the most explicit clarification that she Is the god we know as SILAHA calls her the matron, brennan’s narration clarifies purvon is her champion, taliesin as asha asks for clarification on the recognition of emhira as a god and prompting the familiar spectre of a woman in a white mask.

i want to be very clear that when i say there are no standouts i Mean it because i’ve been awed and endeared and intrigued by every single character choice everyone made and as always brennan’s narration is so incredibly well suited for the mission impossible greek tragedy vibes that comes with this story and i’m so fucking delighted by the fact that laura, ashley, and taliesin are playing gods that their characters have known quite well in the past. i’m incredibly excited by what we’ve already gotten to see from abubakar, nashir, and nick and cannot imagine what other greatness is to come. i’m psyched to see the relationship between asha and the law bearer and am delighted that (perhaps for now perhaps for the whole arc) it is being seen through the lens of “my wife promised me a visit with apples and all i got was a rock ice emissary”. i also have many incoherent thoughts about the fact that, of the players who appeared as the same character in the opening and the story, taliesin’s ash and asha are the ones whose name remains the most unchanged.

i’m obsessed with the fact that this creature sent as a stand in by the god of law and duty believes his primary gift is love. while there is a certain mourning and sadness to every god we see, that SILAHA has a certain playful whimsy and jofyful curiosity about the world. that the only one of them who has been mortal before stops to steal an imp necklace from the neck of a drunk on the train (and that moment between brennan’s narration that this man will be dead by morning but, with death standing invisible in front of him, he is incapable of seeing it coming, and then laura as emhira breathing in deeply and brennan having that spark a coughing fit. they are Story Telling). asha seeing the erased image of a god, of a family member and saying “there’s a hole in all of us.” brennan narrating “this is a place where they tried to kill a story. it’s a very frightened thing to do.” (and god. the motif of fear. especially given the very present fear felt by the gods in current day exandria. they’re doing insane things in the critical role 3 part departure).

trist reminding ayden “he never tells the truth” and asha contesting “he only tells the truth, it’s just rotting.” emhira and asha both as perhaps the less Good™ much more neutral but doing so in such different ways, asha as bitter and hungry while emhira seems uncomfortable but there’s a familiarity and a certainty in her discomfort with mortality (the law bearer would also be included here but the emissary seems much more like trist and ayden (for now) than emhira or asha). something as insignificant as trist and her husband speaking to their children and affirming that little lies are okay while trist has lead a significant part of her life likely dishonest about who she is. the fact that there’s a certain childlike quality to the emissary who they’re all charged with ensuring makes it to the end of things even if they cannot. the fact that nahal (unclear which god they were, and i’m assuming it’s the first god of death but regardless still an absolutely compelling development in a short amount of time) in those opening moments is horrified by the concept of away which is unfamiliar to them only to soon after look upon their family and say. maybe away was better. Especially if those were words spoken by the god who would one day be replaced. these three episodes are going to haunt me and i’m excited to meet the ghosts.

[its-no-biggie]

thinking about joongdok in the early chapters......

rereading the orv novel and seeing things from yjhs perspective is so. augh. the first time you read it its soooo easy to trust kdjs perspective when he reads yjhs mind. his skill even tells him! "your understanding of this character is very high" surely hes interpreting him correctly :) then you read it again and realize how much kdj is filling in the gaps...... he expects yjh to be more callous, more jaded, more hardened than he actually is. hes been through 1863 regressions with yjh but this yjh is still only on the 3rd. and of course kdj learns this lesson himself much later on, but hes been misinterpreting yjh from the very beginning. hes just very good at justifying it.

this scene for example. (i am talking about the novel btw i just have. way more webtoon screenshots on hand. you understand.) kdj thinks it would be out of character for yjh to consider him an actual companion, so he rationalizes it. but once youre able to take yourself out of kdjs perspective, its really obvious by this point that yjh considers them companions??

he tested him with the sea monster (and waited by the river for 3 days for him to emerge, btw), and then again with the monsters in chungmuro. yes, he thinks about killing kdj quite a lot (out of caution) but its not like he ever follows through on it (something yjh from a later regression would be much less hesitant about). i havent gotten very far with my latest reread, but from memory - when hes paralyzed by poison he specifically asks for kdj. they fight side by side on several occasions, and specifically, kdj saves yjhs life multiple times. yjh criticizes him fairly often, but hes not needlessly cruel - just blunt. pointing out his flaws so he can work on them (and to keep him humble, lets be real). and of course, he desperately tries to save kdj when he gets blasted by 41!sys, and then flies into a mindless rage when kdj dies in his arms.

yeah, yjh isnt exactly upfront about his feelings, hes often off doing his own thing, and he gets PISSED when kdj manipulates him into doing his bidding (which happens fairly often in the early chapters) (he just wants you to communicate with him, damnit!) but like. its very very clear if you know where to look. and kdj DOESNT. but he thinks he does!!! augh i cant wait to get to the scene where they reintroduce themselves....... especially since its not like yjh knows kdj any better - he still thinks hes a prophet! there are so many levels of miscommunication going on here, but the important thing is. they care about each other. thats always what it comes down to, isnt it? they love each other. they want the best for each other. they would do anything to save each other. aughhhh orv.....

[verybadatwriting]

The Winged One

Summary: Bucky falls off the train, but HYDRA doesn't catch him. Someone else does.

Warnings: a fall from a great height, descriptions of fever/sickness/infection,

Notes: Uhhh. I guess you get two fics in one day after me not posting in months. I'm open to doing a part 2, if anybody wants that. Reader is a person, but with wings. (They're an Inhuman, which are kinda like the Mutants) Part 2 is out now! :D

Gn!reader

Word Count: 2,765

A train passed by somewhere far overhead. It almost didn’t warrant note, since it happened fairly often. The white of your wings concealed you perfectly in the snowy landscape. You continued walking when all of a sudden you heard an impact somewhere off to your left. Interested, you picked your way through the low shrubbery in that direction.

There, lying on the cold ground, was a man. His whole left arm was all crushed, and he wasn’t conscious. You knelt next to him, and was surprised to discover that his heart was still beating. Unslinging your bag from your shoulder, you tore off the strap and fastened it into a tourniquet around the small bit of arm left. You straightened up as you finished, and started to figure out what to do with him. 

One fear you had was that he could be a Snake Worshiper. Those foul men had been stinking up the area; forcing train tracks into the landscape, scaring off the animals, and crafting forts and encampments into the woods you once hunted in. 

While thinking, you triaged the man. If you decided to help him, you’d need to know what you’re getting yourself into. His left arm was mostly gone, and the rest of his body was littered with bumps and scrapes. There was a fracture in his collarbone, and one particular bruise on his forehead had you worried that he may have a concussion. 

Then his eyes opened.

“Who are,” He began, but the pain hit him and he gasped. You’d been around the surrounding military bases enough to hear the ways the Snake Worshipers talked, and this was not it. They spoke with harsher consonants and longer words. 

“I am here to assist you.” You said, wishing that you had paid closer attention to this language’s flow. You had some key part of the rhythm off, and it seemed to take the man a few seconds to figure out what you meant. Once he comprehended that you weren’t going to hurt him, he seemed to relax, just a little bit.

Snow began to fall again, and you knew time was ticking. If you were going to save this guy, you would have to do something now. You pulled his remaining arm around your shoulders, and began to walk, half dragging him along. He tried his darndest to help, but it still wasn’t easy going. 

A few paces away from your hovel in the side of a hill, he completely gave out and he tumbled to the ground. The snow was really falling now as you grabbed him and dragged with all your might. You opened the door, dragged him inside, and shut it behind you. After you got a fire going, you rolled him near it, and collapsed into bed. You’d deal with him tomorrow. 

It was not long after sunrise when you awoke. You went just outside the door and dug a pot of soup out from under the thick layer of snow. It was fully frozen, so you smashed off two sizable chunks. You left the rest of it in the pot outside, and brought the chunks in with you to melt over the fire.

At some point you became aware that the man was conscious and observing you. You continued on as normal, and dished out the now-hot soup into two bowls. Turning, you set them on the floor between the two of you, and passed him a spoon. 

But when he tried to sit up, he found that his left arm failed to push off from the ground. He glanced down and dropped the spoon. Horror spread across his face as he stared at the empty spot where his arm used to be. His eyes turned to you.

“The fall.” You tried to explain using the man’s language,“Falling.”

“Oh.” He said. He adjusted, and managed to lean against the bed next to him. Looking around, he took in the room for the first time. 

The walls were made of dirt, the bed had a thick quilt, and he was lying on one as well. There was a shoddily made wicker chair in one corner, and a heavy door with a mat rolled up against the cracks to keep the cold from seeping in. Nothing was level or smooth. It was like it had been made by a very inexperienced craftsman. The room was dark, but would have been pitchblack if not for the roaring fire. The room was small enough that one hearth was enough to warm the whole place.

He then looked at you, and you stared back. You were an unkempt, wild looking teen with two giant wings, eating soup out of a homemade bowl and beckoning for him to do the same. He picked up his spoon and began to eat. He found he was insanely hungry, and devoured it.

Seeing that he’d finished his serving, you took his dish and rose to grab him another from the pot out in the snow.

“Wait,” He said, “Kid, where are you going?” But you didn’t understand his words, so you continued on and opened the door. A cold wall of air flooded the room as you left. The man shivered and pulled the blanket closer around him. 

When you came back inside carrying a pot, and set it on the fire, he seemed to understand. After he’d eaten his fill, the pot was empty. It was meant to last you a few more days, but that didn’t really matter. One less man was dead. On that note, you needed to figure out who this guy was.

“I am,” You said, pointing to yourself, “Y/n.”

The man paused for a second, then pointed at you and repeated your name. You nodded. Then he motioned to himself.

“Bucky.”

The next morning, he was well enough to walk, and so he followed you all around and helped with the basic chores of your days. Foraging, checking traps, repairing old things, really anything that was needed. 

After a day or two of trying to figure each other's language out, Bucky seemed to pick the basics of yours and vice versa. When you added this to a little bit of the Snake Worshiper’s language – Which Bucky told you was German – you’d created a strange mash of language. 

As you showed him how to make a hare trap, he inquired about the elephant in the room.

“How did you get those wings?” He asked, “Were you born with them or…?”

“Oh.” You inhaled, “I don’t really remember the story that goes along with them, nor do I like to remember it. All I know is I was born a normal person, then touched a strange rock and was cocooned in it for hours, and when I emerged I had these.

“My mother was concerned, so she brought me to the town’s cleric, who decided it was best if I was left in the woods for nature to reclaim, since I was obviously cursed. My mother didn’t much like that idea, but she had to go along with it. She sent me out here with the barebones supplies I’d need to survive.”

“I’m so sorry.” Bucky said, “How have you been out here alone?”

“Five winters, give or take.” You replied, “What about you? How did you come to fall from a Snake Worshiper’s train into this valley?”

“Steve – he's the friend I told you about –  Gabe Jones, and I were trying to stop some mad scientist who was on the train. It didn’t go too well.”

“I know.”

“I've been meaning to ask you,” He said, “Do you think it's possible that you could help me get back to my camp?”

“Maybe…” You said, “Let's finish this trap and then I'll show you something.”

“Here it is.” You said, opening a small box you kept on the least crooked shelf. You pulled out an old, faded piece of paper. It was rough around the edges. 

“I’ve been mapping out the actions of any newcomers to the area,” You said, pointing to specific parts of the paper, “Here is where I think your camp is. This thick line is the train tracks. And over in this dark splotch is a Snake Worshiper base.”

“Snake Worshiper… the ones that speak German?” Bucky asked. You nodded. 

“Okay. Where are we on here?” Bucky asked.

“Well…” You sighed, “That's the problem. We're all the way over here.” You poked a spot worryingly close to the Snake Worshiper's base. “And your people's camp is all the way over yonder. It's as far as I've mapped, since I don't have much paper.”

“How long did it take you to map all this?” Bucky asked. 

“It only took me a day's journey to get from home to the – what did you call them? Allies? – base. Sadly for you, I was flying. On foot, that would take close to three days.”

“Should we start preparing for the trip?”

“Of course.”

Hunting, fishing, gathering, even some sewing, was required to prepare. The work went by faster when you had a helping hand, and it gave Bucky a chance to learn how to navigate life with only a single arm.

Everything was almost ready, and you could probably leave in a day or two, but that evening, as you were unwrapping the area where his arm used to be, you noticed it looked strange and had an unpleasant smell.

“Well…” You said, after cleaning the wound, “I think it’s infected. I know some herbs that could help, but it’s a bad one.”

“It was normal this morning.” Bucky said in awe.

“That just means it’s moving fast.”

“How bad is it?”

“I don’t think you’ll survive unless your people have some way of fixing this.” 

“Oh.”

“Our objective doesn’t change, just the degree of urgency.” You said, “We’ve still got to get you back as soon as possible. If it gets worse on the trip, we just have to push through it.”

The next morning, you two were out the door as the sun rose. You had enough food and water to last for the trip, and a sack of herbs that could lessen the infection’s power. He took one dose in the morning. 

That first day of travel was brutal, but not the worst. Occasionally, you’d fly ahead to ensure your navigation was correct. Aside from that, you two walked side by side and talked. It was mostly you asking about his people and his base.

“What’s the food like?”

“It’s not great out here,” He said, “But that’s just because of the war.”

“So there was a time before?”

“Of course!” His face lit up a little as he remembered, and started rambling. “We’d have things like fresh bread, pies, chicken, and meatloaf. Sometimes, as a treat, we’d have pancakes for breakfast. Those were the best days…”

The conversation went on, but over the course of the day his energy decreased and his words became jumbled. His pace slowed, and by the time the sun started to dip beneath the trees, he was barely trudging along. 

As you set up a fire, Bucky was trying to string two hammocks between trees. Eventually, you just told him to sit by the fire and hung them by yourself. You cooked, and then shared a meal with him. He was crashing, fast. To try and combat it, you gave him tea brewed from the herbs, and told him to sleep.

The next morning you packed up the camp, all besides Bucky and his hammock. When you went to wake him he woke up and started incoherently murmuring. He was burning up, sweating, and shivering– definitely in no condition to complete the journey. But you knew if he didn’t make it to his people’s base he wouldn’t make it anywhere.

You wouldn't help him survive this long just to die of an infection in the icy forest. He didn’t survive the fall just for a few days of misery. He didn’t walk a whole day for this. He didn’t learn a whole new language for this. He couldn’t die today.  

So you came up with a plan. After gathering some thin but sturdy strips of wood, you tied them together with strips of your hammock. With a lot of work, you managed to fashion a sort of sled. It had ropes at the front you could pull it from, and a spot for Bucky to lie on top of the bags. 

Carefully, you maneuvered the sled underneath his hammock, and loosened the ropes securing him. He slid down and landed right where he was meant to. He awoke slightly, and looked very confused.

“Hey, you’re okay.” You said, “We’re gonna get you home.”

He seemed to calm down after that. You looped the strap across yourself, and started to pull Bucky across the snow-covered landscape. You swept across the snow, and you barely stopped around noon for a swig of water, to get a bite to eat, and to check on Bucky. He was disoriented, so it took a bit of convincing to get him to drink a few sips of water.

It wasn’t horrible, that first day pulling the sled. Once the sun started to set, you contemplated stopping and sleeping. The pitch darkness surrounded you, so you lit a torch. Shadows flickered at the edges of the light, sometimes looking like a pair of eyes. You wedged the torch into a crack in the ground, to keep it upright while you slept.

You sat Bucky up, and gave him some more water. You wrapped him in as many blankets as you had, then sat at his feet on the edge of the sled. It was deathly cold, but you’d been through this before. During the first few nights after the Cleric had cast you out, you’d figured out that you could tuck your knees to your chest and shield yourself from the cold with your wings.

About halfway through the night you were awoken by a gagging sound. Turns out, Bucky’s infection had gotten worse, his fever raged on, and he was now heaving up the few sips of water he’d had. You sat him up and turned him so he would throw up into the snow, and not choke.

After you were reasonably sure he was done, you decided to continue onwards, despite the night. You grabbed the now long extinguished torch and pushed off the ground into the sky to see if you recognized anything. 

Far ahead, there was a river. If you moved fast, you could probably reach it by dawn. Then you could stop for a bit, refill water and such. You enjoyed the air swirling around you, making you feel weightless. But you knew you had to descend sooner or later. You dipped your wings, and glided downwards. To combat the forward motion, you angled them to swoop in a slow spiral.

Landing softly, you checked on Bucky once again. His arm was much worse. You cleaned it, applied more herbs, and wrapped it back up. It looked quite painful, and you could only hope that he couldn’t feel it through his feverish sleep. 

All day was spent sprinting through the forest. Night fell, and you could tell you were drawing close to the Allied base. The shrubs were growing sparse, and the smells of humanity wafted through the air. Right when the camp was in view, you stopped. Shrouded in darkness and trees, you unhooked yourself from the sled. 

Taking one loop of Bucky’s hammock in each hand, you rose steeply into the air. From above, the camp seemed like a maze of tents. You searched for a symbol of a red ‘x’ on its side, which Bucky had told you was the doctor’s emblem. After spying a tent bearing the sign, you awkwardly descended to the ground. 

You untangled Bucky from the hammock, and balled it up. He hadn’t gained consciousness all day. His only hope was the doctors here.

Taking a breath to steady yourself, you knelt next to him.

“Goodbye.” You whispered, “Thank you for being my friend.” You took a large stick and banged it against the metal pole of the tent to draw attention to him before you flew away. As you soared into the woods, you glanced back. People streamed over, and you could barely see them taking Bucky into the tent.

After bringing the sled deeper into the woods, you set off for home.

Part 2

[iliadicjasontodd]

:D talk to me abt Shelia! Love your posts and I'd love to hear abt your thoughts!

Hi! Thank you :)) SO.

My thoughts on Sheila Haywood are not 100% stable, and there were times in the past where I would often waver on whether I believed she was even actually Jason's biological mother-- there is some compelling tragedy to that idea, isn't there? He dies chasing a woman he never finds, dies for someone who was not who he believed she was at all... but nowadays I mostly apply Occam's razor here. I also am not a huge fan of the idea of Lady Shiva being Jason's biological mother because I like Jason not coming from some larger-than-life bloodline/inheritance besides the ones he is adopted into; it feels very close to the idea that Jason was "doomed from the start" to me (obligatory disclaimer that I have seen it done interestingly but. yeah anyway a lot of that goes into my feelings on Cass which is not the question here so I digress).

I find Sheila's life fascinating in the sense that she is, when we meet her, obviously a shitty person but shitty in a way that feels very real to me. She is often flattened or villanised in a way that I wouldn't say isn't fair to her but I would say is rather boring, and rather easy and one-note, anyway. I am not convinced, for instance, that Sheila was just born a heinous bitch or something; I'm fairly certain that she became opportunistic and ruthless out of self-preservation over time, to the point that I don't think it would be ludicrous to say she gave up Jason partly for Jason's sake as much as because she could not stomach being hindered by a baby. Also, on a different note, it is interesting to me that she didn't abort him (until he was 15, anyway). Maybe it was out of fear, sure, considering what happened at her hands, but maybe part of her did want to have him. I do not think there is a world in which she would have been the best mother to Jason, but I do think there are many where she was a mother of some kind-- and by some kind, I mean a very, very common kind. Women are not inherently maternal, or warm, or emotionally intelligent, and Sheila is not really any of these things and probably knew it, but I do believe she would have at least effectively gotten Jason to adulthood had they ended up in a world where he was her responsibility in a way she acknowledged made him her responsibility. A lot of my views on this are admittedly influenced by convos in dms, but yeah-- I don't think Jason, empathetic and sensitive and emotional as he is, could have ever gotten along with Sheila, but she is his mother. To Jason, who died trying to save her despite everything, that mattered; and, to Sheila, that mattered at the end, too, just far, far too late. I don't think Jason would mind having been buried near her-- actually, I think if Bruce knew exactly what went down it would bother him more to have buried Jay there than it would Jay, probably. I agree with that post that I think I reblogged recently that says if Sheila ever came back to life Jason would want her in his life. I agree with it so thoroughly I might write it myself one day.

And also she was really hot.

If we're going into constructed headcanon territory I do like the idea that Sheila is one of those Latina middle-aged women that bleach their hair that one specific shade of blonde when they hit 30 or so. Latines know which. But usually, tbh, when I'm feeling specific, I ascribe to the idea that Jason is half-Mexican on Willis' side, Willis who he thoroughly resembles, Sheila being white. I'm not married to any idea about her ethnic background or anything though.

Anyway, I could afford to have more thoughts about Sheila, tbh. I admittedly spend far more time thinking about Willis. I hope this was at least a bit interesting, anon :))

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

I can't wait for the next part of the trio saving werewolf!reader it was so good!

Ask: I can't wait for the next part of the trio saving werewolf!reader it was so good! 

Ask: Hi! Just read part one of what is hopefully a mini-series of the trio x werewolf reader, and I can’t wait to see what happens next. If you like some suggestions on how to continue: maybe part two could be about the Reader learning how to be free, or perhaps the Trio helping reader recover enough to be able to shift back to being a human? Either way, can’t wait to see what else you have planned. Thank you so much!

[Combining the two asks here.]

A/N: My toxic trait? Answering asks for Part 2s of something I wrote over a year ago and then promptly abandoned lol. (To Read Part 1 to refresh your memory, like I had to do, click here [x].)

✥ ✥ ✥

“Do you think they’ll ever be able to turn back?” Sypha asked from where she stood, in one of the many rows of bookshelves lining the Belmont hold. 

Several levels below her, Trevor grunted as he hauled large pieces of shattered support beams to the base of the main staircase. “It’s impressive how sentient they are now, being a were-creature and all.” 

“Yes, but they don’t want to stay a creature for the rest of their lives.” 

“Well, life isn’t always fucking fair,” Trevor cursed, half-out of breath, as he began lugging the large beam up the stairs. 

“I’m fairly certain she knows that,” Alucard intervened, entering the main chamber, having just arrived fresh off the newly built lift he installed. “Speakers see far more suffering than most people, seeing as they believe it is their duty to help the less fortunate.” 

“How’s the lift?” Sypha asked, coming over to the railing. “Does it work? Were the calculations correct?” 

Alucard nodded. “I needed to modify a few measurements, considering the potential excess weight load-”

“We’re not that heavy,” Trevor interrupted. “Or do you plan to start bringing villagers in by the dozen and give tours?” 

Alucard narrowed his eyes at Trevor. “I was considering the repairs that need to be done for all the damage the night creatures inflicted. Unless of course, you’d prefer to drag that thing up yet another hundred feet.” 

Trevor huffed, refusing to show his fatigue. “What? This old thing?” He locked his knees to keep them from buckling. “Can barely feel it.” 

Sypha rolled her eyes. “Could the two of you stop competing for one second?! We’re supposed to be looking for ways to help our friend!” 

Admitting defeat, Trevor dropped the large piece of timber at the next landing. “Sypha, we’ve been at it for months. Every book says the same thing: only the shapeshifter can cause a shift at will. Outside of whoever cursed them with the affliction undoing it themselves. Or killing the shapeshifter and using death magic to alter their form post-mortem, there’s nothing any of us can do.” 

Accepting her friend had a point, Sypha took one of the adjoining bridges, healing toward Trevor as he stopped to catch his breath. 

“I could freeze that beam and toss it out you know,” she gestured to where Alucard currently stood. 

“The last time you did that, we ended up with a giant hole in the ground.” 

“That wasn’t me, that was the night creatures.” 

“But you did break the castle,” Alucard countered. “All of the gears were melted.”

“I did not! I do not break things. I am a Speaker, I fix things!” 

Alucard chuckled, sharing a knowing look with Trevor. For as knowledgeable as she was, she certainly had a hard time admitting when she was wrong. 

“In either case, it will take years to repair, even with my vampiric speed and strength. Dracula engineered those cogs and wheels over several centuries, often hiring the best blacksmiths around.” 

The trio boarded the lift together, Trevor having decided to leave the broken beam behind for another day. 

“They worked here? With him?” Sypha asked. 

“The castle’s forge is quite extensive. And no matter their level of skill, I doubt any local blacksmith’s forge would be large enough to mold such immense gears. They could only manage such creation within the walls of the castle.” 

Trevor scoffed. “Did they know who they were working for?” 

“I’m certain they had suspicions, but I doubt my Fath-, Dracula ever told them the truth.” 

“That’s-” Trevor started.

“Sad,” Sypha finished for him. “To be alone all that time. To not be able to tell anyone who you are.” 

The ingenious pulley system lift finally came to a stop as it became level with the forest ground outside the Belmont hold. 

“Is that why you wish to help them so badly?” Alucard asked, referring to their new werewolf companion. “You feel they’re lonely?” 

“Well they were lonely, back in that cage, in that life,” Sypha reminded her friends, as Alucard locked the lift in place.

“They seem better now,” Trevor remarked, being the first to disembark. “After all, you keep bugging them every day, they’re hardly lonely.” 

Sypha elbowed him, lovingly. “I do not bug them. They enjoy my company.” 

“You keep forgetting Speakers are used to traveling in large groups,” Alucard reminded Belmont, once again, as the trio made their way back toward the entrance of the castle. “It’s shocking how much you've forgotten, the two of you being companions and all.” 

“The three of us being companions,” Sypha placed a reassuring hand on Alucard’s shoulder. 

The dhampir gave a soft smile at the Speaker’s action before averting his eyes. Stepping out of her embrace, he started to ascend the many stone steps at the front of the castle. 

“It’s about time for dinner. Let me see what I can cook up.” 

✥

It had been a few months since the trio and their newfound companion arrived back home at Castlevania. Most of that time was spent with Sypha and Trevor bickering over how best to treat their new friend, while Alucard dedicated his time in between assessing the broken mechanisms of the castle to reading all of the tomes his father had collected on shapeshifting. Unfortunately, all roads pointed in the same direction: it was up to their friend to shift themselves back. 

At the present moment their werewolf friend, or Wynn, as they liked to be called, was resting in one of the many castle bedrooms. Their furry body was sprawled out over the entire length of the mattress, as they lazily tracked falling specks of dust around with their big puppy-dog eyes. 

Despite spending so much time resting, they felt exhausted this evening. It was as if the last few months of recovery meant nothing! 

‘I don’t know why I’m so tired,’ they thought, shifting to curl up in a tighter ball. 

Finally shutting their eyes, they made one final wish before drifting off to sleep, the same wish they had been making every night for god knows how long. 

‘Please let me be human when I wake up, please.’ 

✥

The sun had barely peaked over the horizon. Trevor and Alucard had woken up early to finally start clearing the major debris from the Belmont hold using the newly designed lift. So far Alucard had cleared twelve large beams while Trevor had managed to remove seven. Not that it was a competition or anything. It was at this point that Sypha had come to join them. 

“Well if it isn’t Sleeping Beauty, finally come to grace us humble footmen with her presence,” Trevor ribbed. 

“Nice pile,” Sypha gestured to Trevor’s lesser stack laid out next to Alucard’s. 

Trevor snorted. “Nice comeback.” 

Sypha crossed her arms. “I had a very long night last night. Which was entirely your fault by the way.” 

“My fault?” Trevor guffawed. “No no, I believe that last round was your fault.” 

Alucard, who had been watching amusedly from the sides, chose this moment to step in. “No, she’s right, I recall you were the one enticing us into that last round.” 

“Well, it’s not my fault if- hey,” Trevor suddenly straightened his back, and pointed to something in the distance. “Who’s that?” 

Both Alucard and Sypha turned around to see who Trevor was referring to. Almost immediately, Sypha clasped her hands together happily and began running over to meet this ‘stranger’. 

“Looks like Sypha wasn’t the last one to wake up,” Alucard nudged Trevor to come along. 

“No, but seriously, who the hell is that?” Trevor asked Alucard, keeping his wits about him. 

“You’re joking.” 

“I’ve never seen that person before in my life.” 

“That’s because you’ve never seen them before as a human.” 

Sypha, having finally reached Wynn where they stood, proudly and excitedly in their human form, pulled them in for a big hug. Clasping each other in a tight embrace, the two companion’s eyes began to water. 

“It’s so good to finally see you, my friend!” Sypha laughed, hugging Wynn closer. 

“It’s so good to be seen!” Wynn answered back, clearly overjoyed. 

After a good long moment, Sypha finally let go, turning around to face the boys. “Look who it is!” 

Wynn gave a polite wave, suddenly overcome by shyness under the focus of all three of their friends. “Um, hi? It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

Alucard stuck his hand out for a handshake, which Wynn eagerly accepted. “Likewise.” 

Sensing Trevor’s hesitation, Wynn outstretched their hand to Trevor. 

Shaking his head, Trevor grasped Wynn’s hand and pulled them in for a hug, nearly knocking them off their feet. 

Speechless and touched by Trevor’s gesture, Sypha shot a knowing look at Alucard. 

Despite being their gruff, sarcastic, and sometimes slower friend, Trevor really was like a teddy bear deep, deep underneath that jaded exterior. Sure, very few would ever come to know it unless they were close to him, but that made the trio’s relationship all the more special. And it was a very telling sign that Trevor was able to let his guard down for the sake of their new friend. 

It was as if at that very moment, the trio had become a quartet. And Wynn couldn’t be happier to finally be a part of it. 

[arcane-vagabond]

Okay, so I've gone back and forth on whether or not to post this, but here we are. Long post under the cut.

I realize that I tend to post updates fairly often. However, I am not a machine, and I do actually have a full time job. The only reason I've been able to update like I have is because we've been in the off season. Eventually, things are going to pick up quite a bit and more than likely, I won't have as much free time to post like I do now. With that being said, I will try to get updates to you guys as much as I can, BUT there seems to be an attitude going around (not just towards me, but towards many other authors on here) that we should be updating almost every day. This is not feasible. Do I love that you guys love my stories so much? Absolutely! And I love talking about them with y'all. However, this is a hobby first and foremost. I am not being paid to write these stories and everything that I do post, I post for free. So, it's a little aggravating when I get asks in my inbox asking when I'm updating again after it's only been a week. It's a little aggravating when I get asks in my inbox for requests with not even a please or thank you, just a demand for something.

Which brings me to the next point. I don't mind taking requests. In truth, I'm a little backlogged right now, so until I can catch up, specific requests are closed. I will still talk about the stories with you guys, but I wouldn't necessarily expect a drabble until I can catch up on some of the ones that have been sitting in my inbox for about two months now. Along this same line, I really don't appreciate people coming into my inbox and telling me that you like my writing and then turning around and insulting it. I also don't appreciate when people come into my inbox and ask me to write an entire AU with specific scenarios while also insulting the way I write my characters. I love hearing about the different AUs you guys wanna see me do, but when you are sending me paragraphs of specific things you want to see in the AU, then it's no longer just an idea. At that point, you should be considering writing it yourself because it's not my original story at that point.

To clarify, there's a big difference between "I think it would be really cool if you wrote a mob AU and the reader could be a waitress or work in a bookshop or something" and "You should write a mob AU where the reader is a waitress and gets caught in a shootout and this character saves her! But then it turns out the waitress is secretly working undercover to bring down the mob boss and there's a shootout where this thing happens and then the characters have this specific conversation and then..."

I'm not trying to be a bitch, I swear I'm not. But it's frustrating when I can tell some of you don't even read the actual stories before ragging on them and then submitting a request in the same breath. It's also getting a little frustrating when I have the tag list at the top of my posts (with the trigger warnings) and I'm still being asked to add people to the tag list. I try to be accomodating and understanding, guys, but things have been a little much recently, and I just felt like I needed to say something. I know I'm not the only author on here experiencing this sort of stuff, and I'm not going to sit here and say that I'm speaking for them, but please start reading the author notes and the trigger warnings and what the author has posted before the actual story. And please stop pestering the authors on here about when they're posting. I know some people post daily, hell, I used to be one of them back when I was unemployed. But we have lives outside of this website guys, and a lot of us have plans with the holidays upon us as well as mental health problems with the changing seasons.

Again, I'm not trying to be a bitch, but I think people tend to forget that there are actual people behind these accounts, and while we love interacting with and giving you guys content, sometimes we need a break too. I know I have other hobbies other than writing, and sometimes I just need to take a step back so I don't get burnt out and stop writing altogether. Just show a little compassion and courtesy, y'all, that's all I'm asking.

Happy Holidays, and I hope to have something out for y'all this week if not a couple things. I have the entire week after Christmas off, but I don't know how much I'll be able to write given I have to go get my car fixed now and I have plans with some friends.

[lorddeathofmurdermountain]

So I just finished Dungeon Meshi. The manga.

I am yet again blown away by the amazing story. I am also blown away by the fanfiction fandom and it's incessant need to ship anyone and everyone. I get it. You think some of the interaction are romantic. They aren't. That's not what any of this is meant to be. But I get it. Romance ships have their own place in the ecosystem and any healthy community has a dedicated group that really likes to ship anyone and everyone.

It becomes less healthy when I go to AO3 and you can go through pages and pages only finding like two or three fics that aren't ENTIRELY "Two random characters have the sex" with occasional romantic undertones. Of those three that aren't just that, two are instead "cleverly crafted AU but the focus is still on the secks". People I get it, it's nice, it's got, and by god everyone is horny for the Faligon x Marcille ship. I get it, I do.

But the story has so many interesting aspects to it! I'd go as far as to say it's a modern day Lord of the Rings! I really fucking would, and I love LotR like no other story on this fucking planet! I'm barely holding back from gushing about it right fucking now. I'm taking deep breaths.

Look, my point is, it's an amazing story about friendship and genuine camaraderie, the sort of thing that sends the message of "people can forget extremely strong bonds without having the hots for one another." The story, beyond it's generally tasteful comedy and the repetitive but reliable skits, is chock-full of meaningful messages, pondering and it has some of the most beautiful and tasteful conclusions to story arcs I've seen in a while! I'd go so far as to say it's fairly innovative as well, not unheard of but you don't see something this good all that often. You really don't. I usually obsess over just sticking FromSoft protagonists into everything to have them fuck around and mess with everything but for once I'm genuinely unappreciative of the idea. The conclusion to the story is perfect if very traditional in a certain sense and all in all it's got very few real flaws. In the end, a very simple, kind and good lad alongside his party of misfits saves the day and everyone gets to live happily ever after.

So why the shit is almost everyone only ever thinking about hot ladies or hot men fucking each other? No, actually, forget the distinction, it's irrelevant! Why is sex with a side of corny romance the only thing everyone is doing?! Fuck, make literally anything else! I get having a niche but for Christ's sake expand your horizons or something! FF doesn't even have the damn tag for the setting yet, AO3 is just porn and SpaceBattles only has Vs discussions and one single story ideas thread that I myself also sperged out in while I was only halfway done.

Christ, there are so many ideas in my head it's actually hard to focus! What about a serious setting examining the end of the story and how it could have gone on? Remake it into a tragedy, or just a feels-good epilogue that's only slightly longer than the story. How about tossing someone you KNOW would mess up the story into the story, but have it be so messed up it loops back around to the same end? Why not just do something really stupid and see where it leads? What if Laios and Kabru switched places? What if Laios and Falin were in Utaya when they were young (they're still the same people inherently just with a more tragic backstory) while Kabru is just some country schmuck that no longer has a tragic story to spur him on to the Dungeon? Does Kabru actually become even more of a textbook hero type? Would the Touden siblings let their past bog them down and make them gloomy or would it only make them more aware of the world around them and thus more willing to look at the other? The story establishes that they're inherently selfish people - they are of course also selfless, but the initial drive for the story is a selfish one for pretty much everyone. Laios just wants to look at and eat cool monsters. Falin wants to tag along and experience new things. Marcille wants to research ancient, forbidden magic. Chilchuck... Uh... Wants to make money and not be constantly scammed at best and backstabbed at worst, I think. Senshi just kind of wants to vibe. Izutsumi wants to stop being a beast-person and is by far portrayed as the most openly selfish in everything she does and decides.

The whole story is really about people being selfish and realizing that's no good, realizing that the people around them are PEOPLE and they should maybe consider each other more. That's how Laios learns to take responsibility, for instance. Oh sure some characters end up not ACTUALLY bring selfish at all, some of them right from the start even, but narratively until told otherwise we start off thinking everyone in the main group are first and foremost in it for themselves. The unifying moment and first instance of selflessness comes when they decide to immediately go rescue Falin - well, Shuro and Namari didn't but we don't know that right away.

Look what I'm saying is there's so many fucking themes in this story and what everyone is focusing on is sex. My argument isn't "sex bad", in fact. It's that the porn with plot - or even the tasteful romance stories - would be even better if you had some other nice fics alongside them. After all, if you eat the same thing the whole time it's bound to become boring eventually, but have a good spread and every part of the meal will be all the better in combination with other parts. If I just ate soup I'd be kind of disappointed, but make some simple rice and cook some simple meat for AFTER the soup and now both the soup and rice and meat feel so much better based on the other things I ate alongside them. Fics are the same. Please. I beg you. Give yourselves some diversity.

[biblioflyer]

Rediscovering Discovery: just what was that show?

Once upon a time I set myself a task. A task that was actually kind of the original inspiration of this blog. Namely to rewatch and analyze Star Trek Picard in pursuit of an answer to the question: Did Picard turn the Federation into a Dystopia? A series of essays I intend to revisit now with the benefit of season three pointing the way to where the show was headed.

I didn't fully succeed at the rewatch. Its still a "bucket list" item but I got 6/10ths of the way through the first season and I felt comfortable saying "no." Its a darker show and one that emphasizes character arcs, character experiences, and the performance of emotion over the stoic, proceduralist, "competency porn" that marked the TNG era. There has definitely been a pulling back from some of the conceits of TNG: that 24th century humanity was radically altered in some core way, almost genetically from us (at the time) 20th century brutes, and that the Federation was almost supernaturally wise and virtuous.

Empirically speaking, both of these concepts were always memes. Oh to be sure, we were seeing a civilization that avowed a particular set of values that resonated very strongly with a particular sort of 1990s secular humanist and generally behaves relatively virtuously if your preferences are wired towards amiability over conflict. Yet it wasn't without its blindspots. My Roman Empire is that the Federation's superpower is not that it is perfectly just and wise at all times and places, its that it is a society whose acculturation process creates people who are somewhat less egotistical, more curious, and less impulsive under stress with the end result being that as a civilization, its superpower is responding to new information with openness and alacrity.

Thus, while there are judicious complaints about Picard: I am not a fan of using the Federation abdicating responsibility for a fellow sentient species, even one it has been hostile with for centuries, as a metaphor for disowning the victims of far flung conflicts and cataclysms in the real world. I'm okay with a flawed Federation that needs to confront its own failings, but this was pretty extreme. Well mostly extreme. There are at least two times Picard had to be talked into saving a prewarp civilization from certain doom because something something Prime Directive even though the Enterprise could do it with trivial effort and with minimal chance of overtly disrupting the society in question. Data's penpal and Worf's brother's preindustrial people.

Overall, I land that Picard doesn't alter the setting beyond recognition, beyond being a setting where justice ultimately prevails, or beyond being fairly labeled "Star Trek."

So what about Discovery?

Now that its over, its as good a time as any for a retrospective. My intent is to watch the first season over again, because its been a loooong time. I've always tried to watch the show in a charitable spirit, much as I have Picard. I try to be radically self aware in that I know my opinions are subjective, that my preferences are rooted in my own values and experiences, and that other people could read the same situation in different ways.

In addition, there are always at least two ways to analyze Star Trek. There's the literal way: which is what is happening and what that tells us about the people and the universe (sometimes called Watsonian) and the Doylist: the "meta" aspects. What is the show actually trying to do from a storytelling standpoint? What symbols is it invoking? What storytelling shorthands is it using? What messages or themes is it trying to convey and, if these really are the correct messages, how well is it actually selling those themes?

To be frank, I've often not been the biggest fan of Discovery from a technical standpoint. I've often felt that its internal logic is sloppy and that, like Picard, it frequently undercuts the messaging I believe it is trying to convey with that very same poor internal logic or by relying heavily on "telling" rather than "showing" us what to think.

Star Trek as a franchise loves to look straight at the camera and lecture us primitive 20th/21st century apes on our failures. Maybe its the nostalgia, but Discovery and Picard have generally both felt like they are less trusting of their audience to interpret the correct moral of the story. Of course I could be parroting a popular complaint about modern fiction that emphasizes "progressive" themes that is itself very likely a perpetual complaint about fiction that emphasizes "progressive" themes, and of course grandpa TOS was the victim of "OG cancel culture" in the form of various networks in various localities threatening to or even outright refusing to air the episode with the Kirk/Uhura kiss.

So in no particular order what I want to investigate is:

Is Discovery "pedantic"? Pedantic being highly subjective. One quirk about me is that it makes me irritable to feel like I'm being lectured on appropriate conduct and beliefs by someone who I share beliefs with, but is articulating those beliefs in a way that makes me feel pandered to (as in I'm not sure the source is as committed as I am) or feels superficial, flattening, or essentializing.

Is Discovery a deconstruction of Star Trek? As in it subverts core ideas in a way that would irk people who are committed to those themes. If so, which themes and is this a good thing or a bad thing?

Are the augmentations, contradictions, and retcons from "established canon" interesting and worthwhile story devices? I'm not anti-retcon and I'm not a canon purist, Star Trek by virtue of having many, many, many contributors is better interpreted as a mythology than a wholly coherent setting; but retcons can and should be judged on their merits.

Is Burnham a "Mary Sue?" This is an almost useless question because of its subjectivity. Its extra useless because in Star Trek, almost every Starfleet character is a polymath capable of inventing entire new fields of science on the spot out of rocks and vibes. There's also a layer of sexism and colorism to it. To the fullest extent possible, I want to frame this question in terms of what are the consequences to the story and worldbuilding from having a main character and less on whether or not that main character has merit.

To some extent this will also address whether Burnham's narrative arcs have robust narrative logic or if there are "too many cooks in the kitchen" resulting in a character who presents as incoherent from episode to episode and successful by fiat. This is definitely something that I think was smoothed over in seasons 4 and 5, starting with what I think was an intentional shift in her characterization as early as season 3.

Its possible my own preference for the more measured tone of network TV era Trek may lead me into the same minefields as the trolls in comment sections across the internet, but I'm hoping to keep my self awareness vivid.

My intent is to go for the full first season. I'm looking forward to it because my memories are extremely fuzzy and I authentically would be delighted to find delights that I had forgotten about.

[oneatlatime]

Ten episodes in!

Roughly half way through the first season, so it's time for a bit of a round up of my thoughts and impressions.

First, and most important: IT'S SO PRETTY. Seriously! The animators didn't have to pour so much love into each background and sunset, but they did! Introductory shots that last for three seconds or less ought to be framed and hung on a gallery wall. And I think that really sets the tone for the rest of this show: as a viewer, you can feel that everyone who worked on this show has love for it. There are background flourishes, pauses in plot for character and vice-versa, delicate and thoughtful treatments of difficult themes, and just so much heart. Not insincere performative heartwarming chicken noodle soup for the soul forward to five of your friends and then the whole bus clapped garbage either. Genuine heart. I feel like I'm watching something that is well loved, that comes from a happy home.

And that heart is the reason this show works. The concept of 'Kids' cartoon about a genocide survivor' never would have made it off the drawing board otherwise. It still sounds crazy when I type it out.

My thoughts so far on the characters:

Aang: Sweet little guy. Literally the only child currently alive not born into a world at war, and it shows. Also exactly the dose of fun and light-heartedness that the world as it is seems to be lacking. Has enviable serenity and a deeply rooted sense of self/self-confidence (probably thanks to Gyatso) that most adults don't. Deceptively deadly, if he ever chose violence. I am really hoping that the show doesn't make him grow up and kill people. He's lovely as he is right now.

Katara: Huge heart, too much trust. Intense. Frankly a bit much at times. Certainly feels way too much quite often. Ride or die for Aang. Would kill for and kill her brother. PEAK little sister. Has a borderline irrational amount of compassion that, when paired with her explosive temper, would make her the most deadly person in the world if it ever got twisted around to face the wrong direction (if that makes sense - like the potential for some really bad outcomes is there). Totally the girl who stole from the mall in 8th grade. Not over her mother's death to a borderline annoying degree. Tries so hard to be an adult, but keeps slipping up and acting her age.

Sokka: My favourite by a mile. Funny, delightfully sarcastic, wicked smart, can keep up with (and in fact is in charge of babysitting) the most powerful bender in the world and a fairly volatile, half-trained bender with temper problems. Perceptive (looking at you, Jet). Also ride or die for Aang and Katara, just in a more quiet way. The fact that he was willing to single-handedly face down a fire nation ship and certain death to protect his family & village kind of says it all. Either completely over his mom's death or has bottled up all emotion to the point where he wouldn't recognise her if he passed her on the street. Swings regularly between far too old for his years and half-grown teenage boy with manliness issues. Motormouth. Somehow both comic relief and linchpin. If he ever gets really quiet, you'll know things are getting serious - like there's a fire nation ship about to attack his village.

Appa: How many times has his big fluffy butt saved the day? Understands an amount of English that changes from episode to episode depending on the needs of the plot. Probably as deadly as Aang, if he chose to be, except with teeth and several tonnes of weight too. Both Aang's dog and Aang's dad. Why does he have six legs? Do extra legs present any flying advantages? Are they just for enhanced hugging? I hope so. There's a reason he's plastered all over this blog and it's not his martial prowess.

Momo: I'm not sure if he knows what's going on? Appa and the humans are very much aware that they're all on a quest, but I think Momo is just chilling. Can be very useful when he feels like contributing (thinking of the pirates and the keep-away scroll shenanigans), but is certainly the group's cat-equivalent. Also seems to vary wildly in size depending on the needs of the animators. I love his noises.

Zuko: I don't know? Winter Solstice Part 1 Zuko and Waterbending Scroll Zuko are two different people. Either highly volatile with wildly inconsistent reactions, or poorly written. Judging by the quality of the rest of this show, where even episodes I hate contain something I love, I'm guessing it's the former? Either way, it must be pretty exhausting to be Zuko. Has drive for days, smarts, leadership, logistics, and seamanship abilities, and temper problems. Oddly, his temper seems to be his most predictable aspect. I can predict what will set him off (most everything) much more accurately than I can gauge what crawled up Katara's butt. I honestly thought he was in his twenties, probably late twenties, until it was mentioned that he was 16. He comes across as much more adult, despite (or maybe because of?) the temper tantrums. Then again, if that Zhao guy is representative, maybe fire nation tempers run hot?

Iroh: Much more consistent characterisation. Something going on here. Deep well of firebending knowledge contrasted with doddery old man persona/personality (which is it?) contrasted with some not-so-subtle attempts to obstruct Zuko's quest. I'd better not find out that he's been leading Zuko on a wild goose chase for years.

Love Bumi, love what little I've seen of Gyatso, Roku seems pretty calm, Zhao is an asshole, but he's so good at it.

Relationships:

Whoever wrote Sokka & Katara's interactions obviously grew up with siblings. I'm not sure I've ever seen such accurate sibling dynamics on television. Long-suffering super smart idiot of an older brother attempting mostly in vain to claim some authority vs. ruthless little sister with a nose like a bloodhound for mocking opportunities and a contractual obligation to sharpen her claws on said brother. That's good stuff, and I love to see it.

Zuko & Iroh, partly thanks to Zuko's inconsistent character, flip flop between long-suffering mentor and hot-headed student (episodes 1 & 2), bickering old couple who love each other really (Winter Solstice Part 1 & 2), and no-nonsense super soldier whose hippy uncle came along for the ride (Waterbending Scroll). In all iterations of their dynamic, they give off the impression that they've been together for a long time and know each other well. Which is nice! I feel like Zuko especially could use a friend.

Bending:

Airbending is stupidly deadly. I think, from looking at the whole monks and temples thing, that the airbenders as a whole leaned pretty hard into the pacifist lifestyle, and (if you'll forgive the momentary foray into fanfiction territory) I think that they chose this lifestyle because they realised how crazy deadly their powers could be when misused. Aang can send a whole row of soldiers flying with one swipe of his staff. He flings people into walls without effort, without even looking. He can run faster than any other human we see, he can fly (albeit assisted), he whips up a tornado when fighting Bumi. Presumably (fanfiction territory again) he could control/prevent breathing, therefore control/end life. Gyatso certainly obliterated a bunch of comet-enhanced (I think?) firebenders. Now, some of this might be because Aang is the Avatar, which maybe gives him an airbending power-up? What I really love about airbending (or at least Aang's approach to it, which let's be honest, is the only one we're ever going to see) is how integrated it is into his daily life. Why stand up when you can airbend yourself up? Why twiddle your thumbs when you can twiddle marbles? It's thoughtless in a good way, as in it's effortless. Is Aang even aware of how often he bends? How much of it is unconscious bending? Is this because he's the avatar? Can other bending styles be so central to how a person lives their everyday life?

We haven't seen any master-level waterbending yet, but what we have seen invites speculation. Unlike airbending, where air is air is air, water is kind of defined by its variety. Solid? Liquid? Gas? We've already seen Katara bend water to ice, bend snow, bend salt and fresh water. Is waterbending the most limitless of the bending styles?

Unless you're Bumi, earthbending seems to promote stupidity. I was blown away by what Bumi could do, but every earthbender since has lost, and lost badly. I don't count the earthbenders in Imprisoned, because they had some hefty psychological factors at play, but the earthbending soldiers in the Winter Solstice part 1 who capture Iroh were literally surrounded by their element, with numbers on their side and their captive in chains, and they lost to a naked guy and a teenager. Does being a non-Bumi earthbender have a negative effect on cognitive abilities? Does the solidity of the element prevent creativity?

Firebending is dangerous, not in the way airbending can be dangerous, but in the way a drunk with a firecracker is dangerous. Probably the element that requires the most responsibility and self-regulation, ironically gifted to the most volatile people. All we've seen so far are fairly large plumes of fire - is precision firebending possible or is it more of a 'point it in the general direction of the enemy' technique? It does feel like an outlier, in that it comes from within, not the surrounding environment. That being said, airbenders can also be said to carry their element wherever they go, because everywhere humans can go (at least for more than a few minutes) has air, so fire isn't actually that much of an outlier. Also, either Zuko is suffering from a serious case of cartoon physics, or firebending causes some sort of muscle intensification and bone hardening, because last time I checked you can't kick a flying rock the size of a small child out of mid air or shatter handcuffs with an axe kick.

Final thoughts:

I think I'm preferring the monster of the week episodes to the season-long plot episodes. I think I want lower stakes while I'm still getting to know the characters. I want - no I NEED - more Appa. Give me an Appa episode. Give me a Sokka episode too. I also want more Gyasto - he seemed like a stand up guy, and I feel like he is what an older Aang will become, if all goes well. Obviously he's dead, so if there is more it will be flashback only, but I'll take what I can get.

I think the best point of the show, and what's really drawn and kept my attention, is the finality of things, even in these early, fairly plot-light episodes. Whatever blew away half of Zuko's face hasn't been undone. Sokka & Katara's mom is dead, and looks to stay that way. Aang really is the last of his people (and so, I suspect, is Appa). Aang disappearing for a century has left a duty in some way unfulfilled, and the world has suffered for it. Legitimate consequences, which means legitimate stakes, which means I feel like getting invested in the show is not a waste of my time. No Marvel fake-out deaths here! This world is one in which actions, and inaction, have weight. No bait and switch, no last-minute saves, no "it was _____ all along!" I don't think this would have mattered to me at all if I had seen this show as a child, but as an adult who is sick of how much of modern media shies away from sincerity, this show is refreshing.

Rankings so far:

Best episode (as in most competently executed) and favourite episode are getting different categories, because in a show that deals with some heavy themes, sometimes the most expertly done episode isn't all that pleasant to watch. I think the best episode so far, by far, is Jet. It feels head and shoulders above everything that came before it. It was at times uncomfortable to watch for how accurately it portrays both what war does to children, and what war-torn children will do to/with powerful children they happen to ensnare. Like I said in my post about it, I'll probably never watch it again because it's a little too real, but it is an episode that hums along like a well-tuned engine. A close second on the best/most competent list has to be The Southern Air Temple. The way the two stories weave together, and the way they mirror each other despite depicting characters destined to be enemies, AND the way all that gets represented in contrasting colour palettes is all so clever. It also gave me my first taste of the kind of long-term thought and planning that I'm already detecting hints of. Could you really write an episode like The Southern Air Temple without knowing how your season, even your series, would ultimately end? It's the episode where I first got a taste of the wider world, the scale of the stakes, the eventual endgame.

The worst executed episode so far is probably Imprisoned. I found the tonal switch in the middle completely jarring. I know what it was trying to say about Katara (compassionate and impassioned and will act on both to protect the innocent), but honestly the message I got was that Katara is closed-minded, naive, without any sense of proportion or any ability to pick and choose battles, with no long-term planning skill, and who is far too used to having Sokka around to clean up her messes and do her thinking for her. That being said, the worldbuilding was well done: this episode told us earthbenders' weakness (take away their element by sticking them in the middle of the ocean on a metal-only rig) and what life is like under fire nation rule (pretty hairy).

My favourite episode so far is The Winter Solstice Part 1: The Spirit World. I have literally no idea why, but it made me happy. Things I liked about it include: -It's so PRETTY -Sokka being ride or die for Aang to the extent of being subjected to spirit kidnapping -Zuko pulling the Exhausted Parent (TM) move of 'five more minutes on the playground then I'm leaving with or without you,' followed by not following through -Katara being stirred to action by Appa's worry -Zuko and Iroh absolutely flattening those earthbenders -Zuko and Iroh's odd couple dynamic throughout the episode -Zuko being competent at something! -How genuinely alien that spirit thing was, especially its movement. -Aang's "I have to try, don't I?" If I could have reached through the screen and given him a hug, I would have.

My second favourite is The King of Omashu. Maximum goofiness at all times is just delightful. Bumi has an enlightened way of looking at the world that gets all the more poignant when you realise how old he is and what he's lived through. There is serious angst potential there. But the episode is so light-hearted that you don't realise that while you're watching it. Also the absolute pinnacle of earthbending so far, and some pretty peak airbending too.

My least favourite is The Warriors of Kyoshi. They gave me a badass troupe of warrior ladies and then nerfed them so that Sokka could learn feminism. Sokka (as he was characterised in that episode at least) did need to learn it, but the trope of the male student effortlessly surpassing the female master is just so tired. At least the b-plot of the avatar title going to Aang's head was both fun and necessary story ground to cover.

An excellent run of episodes so far, despite my many and varied gripes with mostly minor things. Bring on episode 11.

[coolstuffiseverywhere]

Revolutionary Girl Utena - S1 E3 "On The Night of the Ball" Part 1

Hi! I wrote this like a week ago, but had to stop mid-episode. I'll point out where things are new!

Pre-episode thoughts: 1. Cinderella references to be expected? or just a take on the idea of a ball? a school dance through fancy symbology? who knows!

2. I just need to reiterate how much I love this music. Not a single miss yet.

3. I wonder if I'm completely missing everything or if I'm vaguely on the right track(or as much as you can be with two episodes so far), and I am willing to hear vague opinions on it.

Without further ado, the episode

Clearly, Utena needs to discover the power of lesbianism. Anthy, can you save this poor repressed homosexual?

More seriously, this series is even realistically gay! Outside of jokes. I am so glad.

Aren't you in high school? and in your last year? I am excited to see on where the (intentional, presumably) creepiness is going.

Sooner backhands then expected. At least she isn't putting up with his shit.

So I guess the rings are signs of having any actual agency in the plot? Considering the rose symbolism though, I have to assume that agency comes with a catch.

Considering the prince is clearly black, probably not. Also because I'm fairly sure that was the magic figure last episode, which I think was in the actual magic, which makes me assume the mysterious Dios? or someone else connected to him besides Anthy, which would make me guess her brother from what I've heard.

What's with the repetition so much? I think part of it is the semi-episodic nature of the show and saving budget, but it also seems thematic. Time loop, or just time fuckery? who knows!

What is this for?

Hi, future me here again, this is where I stopped. Sorry for the wait everyone.

Saionji I expect no better from you. I wish you hell. The shadow here is interesting though, considering how big it is. Is it meant to just be showing Anthy having a secret, happenstance, or what?

Yellow roses apparently mean friendship and joy, but besides that, WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?!?!? Like, is this meant to showcase her role as a princess? Or that Anthy is imagining her doing this? That this is her front? WHAT IS HAPPENING?!?!?

Maybe it's symbolic for her upholding the status quo and being a arm of misogyny? idk

What did Chu-Chu eat??!?

So, she's just going along with this because they're engaged, right?

I guess he just wants her their to investigate her? I hope?

WHAT DOES THIS MEAN? and what do the pets mean???!? They look like Anthy and Utena, but they can't be. Anthy and Nanami? Someone mocking Anthy and Utena? And what are the pets, boys following them around head over heels?

Nanami what has he done to you? I do not trust this relationship at all.

This feels potentially important!

So... I feel like this is meant to highlight people following the patriarchy? or something? at this point. But Pink to show real love maybe? And also femininity, according to google, which checks out.

I don't know how to feel about Nanami.

Not something a picture would convey, but I just heard Nanami call Anthy Senpai??!? Is the student council for the high school or middle school? They commented on Utena being from the middle school before, and those are often connected. Is she a lower year representative? Or is it that Anthy being the Rose Bride gets her called this?

I am really unsure how to take this besides kinda creepy. We'll see I guess? I suppose you could take how understated this is, and how adult this party looks, to be kinda how heteronormative society is pushed onto kids, even ones who are younger then these ones?

Anthy's social anxiety go brrr

WHAT THE HELL NANAMI? I AM UNSURPRISED AND YET TOTALLY SURPRISED! I had seen her mentioned as a character who is comparable but very different to Eva Ushiromiya, with weaponized misogyny presumably, but somehow did not see this coming.

What did Kiryuu/your family do to you? Seriously, that comment is more then normal misogyny, what is happening to you Nanami?

Also, alcohol being casual and handled by a waiter does speak to the idea of this being a symbology thing and also forcing the teens to seem more adult then they are?

This is apparently going to another post, since I'm over the image limit, but at least I can finally post this one.

[starlitangels]

Sorry (Isn’t Enough)

When James said “I’ve missed things I can never get back” in his little flashback audio, my genuine first thought was, “Oh. Oh homeboy has missed at least one anniversary. Hasn’t he?” and I wrote this from that. 2.5k words (almost exactly)

—

I stood in front of the mirror, biting my lip. “Too much?” I asked no one. The apartment was empty apart from me. It often was, and I’d taken up talking to myself, apparently.

I took in my outfit. The restaurant wasn’t overly formal. “It’s the shoes,” I decided. “Need more casual shoes.” I pushed my clothes closer to James’ mostly-empty half of the closet to free up where my shoe hanger was crammed in the back next to the wall. “Converse are too casual but I don’t need dress shoes… where are those damn boat shoes—they’re like right in the middle, right?” I kept muttering as I looked down each hanging square of shoe storage.

I hope he’s at least somewhat on time… what if traffic is bad? I thought. James’ job, contracting with the Department, paid very well, but it made his schedule unpredictable. His flight was supposed to land at 4:47, and our dinner reservation was at 5:30. He was fairly certain the Uber would get to the restaurant just in time to meet me there, but things happened at airports. Weather delays, traffic, random people causing a ruckus on a plane.

Stop it. He’ll be there. He promised not to miss our anniversary, I reassured myself, snatching my shoes out of the hanging storage when I finally found the right ones. The blue boat shoes, not the black. He made the Department promise.

I sat on the bed and took off the shoes I’d been wearing before. The nice thing about boat shoes was the lack of laces and buckles. I could just slide right into them.

As I was pulling my fingers out of the back of the first shoe I’d shoved my foot into, my phone starting ringing. I recognized the number—that I wasn’t allowed to save to my phone—of where James had been staying. I snatched my phone off the bed.

“Hey baby!” I greeted.

“Hi love,” James replied.

“Uh-oh. I know that tone. What’s wrong?”

He sighed. “The Department called me yesterday. The job hit a snag. It’s being delayed two more weeks. I won’t be home tonight.”

“But…” I swallowed the tears caught in my throat. “But it’s our anniversary. You—you’ve never missed an anniversary.”

“I know. I tried to tell the Department—but they didn’t listen. And it took them a whole day to give me clearance to even call you about it. I am so, so sorry, love.”

Sorry isn’t enough, I thought, knowing he was too far away to read my mind. I took a deep breath and released a long sigh. The kind that I drew out on purpose to count to ten and keep myself calm. James had known me since we were children. He’d recognize it. “I know you are.”

“Look, the reservation is for two people. Why don’t you call your sister and just take her to a nice dinner?”

“Yeah, yeah maybe,” I said with no real enthusiasm behind the words.

“Baby… I tried so hard to get everything done on time. It should have been finished yesterday if we hadn’t hit the snag as hard as we did. We just need time to fix it. If I had my way, I’d come home to you tonight and then fly back out. I don’t care that that’d put me on a plane for a solid twelve hours. It would be worth it to see you. But the Department won’t let me leave until it’s done.”

“I know you don’t have a choice.”

“I don’t—and I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, James,” I muttered.

I hung up without another word. I blinked, letting the tears welling up spill over and fall down my face. Lowering my phone, I went to the restaurant’s website and canceled the reservation. No point in calling my sister. It wouldn’t feel right.

I tossed my phone onto the bed and yanked the boat shoes off, shoving them unceremoniously back into the shoe hanger. My nice dinner outfit quickly followed, getting put back in the closet until I was standing in just my underthings. I threw back the covers of the bed and climbed in. Appetite gone. It would come back voraciously later, but for now the pit in my stomach hurt more than ached for food.

Curled up on my side, I let myself cry.

I’d been looking forward to dinner for our anniversary, sure. But more than that I’d been looking forward to seeing James again. His job took him away for weeks—sometimes months—at a time. I missed him. Constantly. I didn’t care how much the Department paid him when it meant I never got to see him. It was weird, growing up practically glued at the hip only to never see him as an adult. When we also shared a bed.

I don’t know how long I cried. I allowed myself to release the pent-up sadness, reaching for James’ side of the bed as though I could touch him. But, of course, nothing but the bedsheet met my hand.

I buried my face in his pillow. He’d been gone so long that there wasn’t a trace of his scent lingering on it anymore. That pine scent with a hint of musk that accompanied his aftershave. Nothing. Just the generic smell of laundry detergent. But I kept my head on the pillow anyway. It felt like when we were cuddling so close that he’d pull me off my own pillow and onto his.

Sobs shook my whole body until I had no tears left to cry. I had a headache from all the crying and my whole mouth felt thick with emotion.

It had been years since I cried myself to sleep, but I was too exhausted to get up when I ran out of tears. So my body crashed into unconsciousness with my mind following swiftly after.

I woke up the next morning with a growling stomach. Joints stiff from not moving. Some anniversary, I thought as I got up to go shower and get some breakfast.

—

Two Weeks Later…

—

“Love? I’m home,” James said tentatively as he slipped into the apartment.

Silence.

“Baby?” He set his suitcase next to the door and slid out of his shoes. Their apartment wasn’t large—a two-bedroom so he and his partner could share an office—but it wasn’t usually this dead silent.

No response.

James didn’t read his partner’s mind without permission. Not even to check if they were home.

Especially when he knew they were probably pissed at him.

He rushed to their bedroom and peered in. The bed was neatly made, and folded laundry sat on the covers. Theirs. He recognized the shirts and the color they chose for their towel set.

He leaned across the hall to the office. The door was shut, but it faced west so they usually kept it shut to keep out the light of the setting sun at bedtime.

He tested the knob. Not locked. He pushed the door open.

Empty.

The bathroom door was wide open and also empty, apart from toothbrushes in a mug and hair combs on the counter.

There was nowhere else in the apartment they could be.

James sighed and went back to where the kitchen and living room opened up into each other.

A little square of green on the off-white counter caught his eye.

He crossed over and saw the pad of sticky notes with a pen sitting beside it, recognizing his partner’s handwriting. @ my sister’s. Should be back by 7.

There was no signature. No heart doodled in the margins like they normally might have done.

Yeah. They were angry.

James couldn’t blame them. He’d missed their anniversary. They’d been together for years and he’d always managed to make it home for their anniversary.

He sighed and pushed a hand through his hair. The clock on the stove said it was 4:49. A little over two hours before they’d be home. How was he going to be patient for two hours? It wasn’t like he didn’t know where their sister lived. God knew he’d been over to her house for unempowered holidays plenty enough. But the be back by 7 was an obvious implication of don’t come over. I’ll see you when I'm good and ready.

He missed them. All he wanted was to hold them in his arms and kiss them silly. Carry them to bed and snuggle them close to him and… maybe other things, if they were up for it.

But he’d be damned if he disrespected their choice to stay away from him until they were ready.

He closed his eyes—they were tired, dry, and stung when closed—and leaned against the counter with the heels of his palms. They both knew it wasn’t his fault that he missed their anniversary. The Department had sprung the extension of the contract on him with barely any notice. But that didn’t mean his partner wasn’t hurt by it. They had every right to be. After getting their hopes up and having those hopes crash and burn mere minutes before they were probably planning on leaving the house, he’d be more surprised if they weren’t hurt.

Peeling his eyes open, he glanced at where his car keys were sitting in a woven wicker bowl on the trestle table next to the door.

An idea struck him.

Belated anniversary celebration, here I come, he thought, marching over to his keys.

—

“You’re welcome to stay here overnight, you know,” my sister said as she hugged me.

“I know. But I really should be getting home,” I replied. A bit more sullen than I meant to sound. “Thanks for hanging out with me today.”

“Of course. I’m sorry you and James are having a rough patch.”

“We’ll get through it. I hope. We always have before.”

She squeezed me tighter. “It’s gonna be okay. If you need anything, let me know.”

I nodded as I broke the hug and pulled my keys out of my pocket. “I will. Thank you. Love you.”

“Love you too.” She waved me off as I left her house and went to my car.

I waved and ducked into it, turning over the engine and putting on my seatbelt.

Blasting the radio did very little to drive out my thoughts. James would be home by the time I got back. He had to be. His flight landed at like 4:15 or something. Even the slowest Uber caught in traffic wouldn’t take that long to get from the Dahlia airport to our apartment. If he’d been flying into Orange County airport, LAX, or San Diego airport, maybe. But not Dahlia airport.

What was I going to say? I was still smarting from the pain of him missing dinner and telling me right beforehand. I knew it wasn’t his fault and he hadn’t had a choice. But it still stung. I’d missed him for two weeks longer than necessary and didn’t even know how I could say that through the anger.

I wanted to be nice because I missed him. But I also wanted to yell at him for even taking the damn job that was cutting it so close to our anniversary.

My thoughts spun in unhelpful spirals the whole drive home. Before I knew it, it was five minutes to seven and I was getting out of the car at our building. James’ car was in its usual stall next to where I parked.

I went up to our apartment and paused on the doorstep, staring down at our welcome mat past my keys in my hand. Did I knock or just go in?

I clenched my jaw. I wasn’t the one who’d done anything wrong. And he was probably hurting too but I wasn’t the one who missed our anniversary.

Shoving my key in the lock with more force than strictly necessary, I rammed the deadbolt back and pushed the door open.

“Oh—my God,” I said.

The living room was mostly dark, lit by a pair of tall taper candles in the brass candlesticks James’ mother had pawned off on us when she and James’ father had been purging their decorations. A bouquet of deep red roses sat in a vase between the tapers.

An elaborate dinner was spread out, plates already dished up, set for two. With the tablecloth we only ever really used for the MoonBound solstice draped beneath. Despite the elaborate dinner, the dishes used to prepare it were cleaned and put away, nothing even sitting in the drying rack next to the sink.

The TV was playing one of those several-hour YouTube videos of a fireplace, and the console table the TV sat on had a banner stretched across it that said, Happy Anniversary! In big block letters.

James was standing next to the dining table. In his best black suit, wearing a dark teal tie. He had his hands clasped in front of him and he looked worried.

We just stared at each other for several long seconds while I nudged the door shut until it finally clicked into the doorframe.

I blinked. “I’m underdressed,” I said.

The smile he gave me was melancholy. “You look beautiful. Just as you are,” he said. I dropped my keys in the bowl next to the door but didn’t say anything. He took a step forward, but didn’t get too close to me. “I missed you, love.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “So much.”

My anger broke—and so did my control over the tears I’d been holding back.

I burst into tears and rushed at him, throwing my arms around him while he cradled me close to his chest. I got lost in how many kisses we exchanged. They were wet and salty with how bad I was crying, but neither of us seemed to mind. “I missed you so much, Jimmy,” I whispered.

He blinked tears out of his own eyes, but he was smiling. “You haven’t called me that in a long time,” he said softly, cupping the side of my face in his hand.

“You don’t like it when I use it too often,” I said. I leaned up toward his head and pressed our foreheads together. “Come in, please?”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

—missed you— —look beautiful— —love you— —thank you—

His voice drifted through my mind with comfortable familiarity. I snuggled against him. “I love you too,” I whispered.

He kissed my forehead. “Sit down. Let’s eat.”

We sat and had dinner, and I felt the twist of pain on my heart lighten and ease. I felt like I could finally breathe after two weeks of suffocating.

Toward the end, the conversation had petered out a bit and I found my thoughts spiraling again. “James?” I asked quietly.

“Yes?”

“Never miss our anniversary again.”

He leaned across the table and took my hand. “I’ll do my best, love. I promise.”

—don’t want to hurt you— —so sorry— —not enough, but it’s all I can say now—

[everybodyknows-everybodydies]

20 questions for writers

tagged by @pia-writes-things - thank you! :D

(under the cut to save your dash)

How many works do you have on AO3?

64 at the moment!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

145,151 in eleven years... same as with drawing I don't post 90% of what I do lol whoops

3. What fandoms do you write for?

currently TES has been getting the gears going the most, but ER is my perennial love - and once in a blue moon I am compelled to do something TLU! SM is still very dear to my heart but I've been pretty dry on fic inspiration/drive for it for a while now :(

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

these are ALL OLDER PIECES haha so don't look too closely: it still burns - fluffy OPM piece for Knight c: what else can I say! too cold for you here and now - fluffy little Makoami piece (are you sensing a pattern already...) featuring terrible puns, because I have always loved characters trying to make each other laugh you do it for her (that is to say you do it for him) - another one written for Knight; OPM/SM crossover. with TWO chapters! left, left, left right left - introspective Romano piece re: arm. I actually now disagree with some character choices I made in this one so seeing it still getting attention has me like no... this doesn't represent me... Across the Western Ocean I Must Wander - Makoami pirate AU. also not a oneshot! (shock!) I don't think it holds up as well as I'd like, but the premise still compels me and there's some cute moments :'D still VIVIDLY remember being up late on a class night listening to one song on repeat while working on The Kissing Scene™

5. Do you respond to comments?

almost always! it may take me a bit sometimes, but I do try to make sure I do

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

frankly idek - being completely honest, "angst" just as a word at this point turns me off so immediately and so hard that I can't engage with the concept that way. I prefer endings with some hope, but I like some emotional complexity too! all my baggage about fandom and "angst" is for. ANOTHER TIME

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

again I'm not totally sure how to answer this one! I guess Ocean? doesn't get much more stereotypically happily-ever-after than "and then they ran away together the end"

8. Do you get hate on fics?

no, thankfully! I've gotten the occasional comment here and there that make me go "??" but more just sort of confusing, not malicious as far as I can tell lol

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

sdlkghlsj sex-repulsed asexual here and not for the first time I say: I am reasonably confident nobody wants me doing that. it can happen but offscreen to spare me the inevitable mortification... fade-to-black is about as far as we go in the House Of Mouse sorry!!

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I have before! it's not my preferred stomping grounds but I like a good one. I don't know about "craziest" but wouldn't do us any harm I think is probably the funniest of the handful I've shared (again: written primarily for Knight! warning that it is from 2016 LOL)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

also not to my knowledge!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

yes! baby Mouse ran a fic awards "show" (in the written medium obviously) with a friend back in like 2010 or 2011 on FFN... it was loads of fun!

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

just one?? if I have to choose then: Lizzie & the Bald Boys... my little driftwood raft that I've finally convinced a handful of other people aboard c':

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Makoami Princess and the Goblin AU :( still means a lot to me but SM just hasn't been where I've been drawn to write for a while!

16. What are your writing strengths?

dialogue + characterization is most often what I get compliments on (<3) - I'd like to think I have a fairly decent hand for little meaningful details too, but I think these more often than not end up just being for my own benefit because I like my symbolism subtle aha

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

LONGFORM... plugging together things into ordered chapters and maintaining momentum over longer spaces is my greatest struggle. I've had to come to terms with the fact that I'm much more a sprinter than a marathon runner, and it's been very freeing letting myself step outside of needing all the surrounding context to just do things as I come to them and then getting to string it all into chronology via series ordering

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

done well I find it really impressive! it's very hard to do well though ahaha.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

without the context of "fandom", the first story I ever wrote was about the Boxcar Children hanging out with me at age 6 (the entirety of chapter three was all of us singing the alphabet together and it was narratively crucial that this happen. for some reason.). with the context of knowing about fandom though, Scooby Doo at 11-12!

20. Favorite fic you've written?

of what's posted: Ocean has a lot of personal meaning because it was the first multichapter piece I was able to finish in several years, but on a technical level I've been really proud of some of the more layered pieces I've been practicing in the last year or so: Thermal Equilibrium and skipping stones I think are good examples of that :')

tagging: @knightnightwrite (I AM GOING TO GET YOU TO DO ONE OF THESE SOMEDAY <3 <3 <3), @wispstalk, @ehlnofay, @wonderofasunrise, and anyone else who wants to do it!! as always no obligation if you've been tagged and don't want to! except for Knight. beloved I am knocking on your door come PLAY WITH ME

[naartjie-hijabi]

As an Indian from Durban I *totally* get you with that anon ask, and ugh, I’m sorry that you’re getting that sort of thing even online. Like… sure, whilst BEE and such aren’t perfect (most black people in our country still live in the country, people on top profit), they’re not white discrimination. I went to private school and I can tell anon that while on paper things like BEE seem like they’re ’against whites’ or smth, white people here in general still have an INSANE amount of money, connections, and assets from the Apartheid era, often built on the human rights abuses of that time, and most don’t care about helping disadvantaged people in the country now. My parents saved for decades for our house, which is fairly large and built on part of the LAWN of our neighbour’s house (a several story house owned by an older white guy). His kid went to my private school, and so I found out that this wasn’t even the only house he owned. My family only paid off our house last year, since my dad had to drop out of uni as he couldn’t afford it and opted to get a job to support his family instead. He broke his leg at that job and it still hurts him because he couldn’t afford time off to get it fixed. All that inequality from Aparthied, a lot of it and a lot of its echoes are still here. To say that it’s not is… you know?

honestly, I'm just hoping that the previous anon was asking out of good faith and nothing more.

BEE and BBEEE in practice aren't great but these systems that were implemented to ensure that POC have an equal footing with white people are being abused by white people. My dad worked in a company where he was the ONLY person of colour in a management position and getting paid a basic salary whereas his white colleagues got paid more for the same job or even less but he was there for "points" - not that he was unqualified but he wasn't being treated equally.

One of my friends is white and while she is by no means rich, she's fairly middle class altho in SA that's barely anything, but she's slightly more well-off than I am. Even still, her skin colour grants her privilege in walking in places where I as a coloured person would feel so uncomfortable. In 2024, people still stare when your skin colour is different and it's so disgustingly backwards.

But I totally understand how you feel anon. my dad couldn't finish uni cause he dropped out to fight against Apartheid, my mom was friends with Ashley Kriel, a coloured freedom fighter who was killed by the Apartheid regime, my uncle and aunt had to flee the country, meanwhile my aunt back home played white because she has pale skin and my dad who's incredibly dark for a coloured man was called derogatory names growing up because of his skin colour.

I'm also so incredibly sorry for your dad and pray that things will only get better for you and your family and you're totally right, denying the realities of Apartheid and the consequences thereof is a slap in the face to everyone who suffered. The people who complain are the people who benefitted and are more worried about losing what they gained through others' losses than helping or caring about anyone that's not part of their community.

The denial of white privilege and the idea that white people are being discriminated against is ludicrous. I live in CAPE TOWN, opposite every affluent white neighborhood is informal settlements. Hell, the neighborhood I currently live in is a white area and people own FERRARIS whereas my family's car breaks down every 5 minutes.

But anyways, I truly do believe that South Africa will gey better. I love this country wholeheartedly and I just want everyone to experience the same level of privilege and have access to all that is needed to succeed in life.

[artemis-is-an-idiot]

I posted this on my twitter but its not very often I am inspired to do deep dives into things so I thought I post it here too. For context, someone posted a twitter tread talking about Winx Club and its influence on future media. In that thread, there were a few untrue statements that upset people. One of which was about Sailor Moon.

This started a feud between Sailor Moon fans and Winx Club fans, and as fandom do, they resulted to pointing out the problematic flaws of each show. This once again, dregs up the "Sailor Moon endorses incest" argument. I kinda have an issue with that statements so I took it upon myself to give the proper context for that scene. My tweet was as follows;

In light of this Winx club/Sailor moon thread I want to talk about the "incest promotion" in Sailor Moon. Is there an incest kiss? yes, actually there's 2. Is it promoted as a good thing? NO. I do not condone incest in any way shape or form but there is context behind the kiss in sailor moon that explains it. Sailor Moon in no way states that what happens is a good thing.

To give context, the kiss in question is between Mamoru (father) and Chibi Usa (daughter). Chibi Usa travels to the past in an attempt to save her millennium from being destroyed.

Even though she is technically 900 years old (no this is not one of those arguments) she is still physically and emotionally a child.

She is about 5 years old when she first travels to the past. and guess what, that's usually the age where daughters love their fathers and want to marry them in future. their father is their main representation of men and how relationships work. She admires her mother and wants to be like her but also feels distant from her and she is constantly teased that she is nothing like her and not a true heir. this leads her to steal the silver crystal, inadvertently causing the downfall of the future millennium.

When she travels to the past she is guilt ridden, all the while still having complex feelings about her parents. Usagi isn't how she thought her mother would be based on people told her about her, and she actually finds Usagi more relatable, but she doesn't show it in front of her. Mamoru stays fairly consistent in personality in both past and future, so he says like the same father to Chibi Usa. Chibi Usa still loves her father and she also enjoys antagonising Usagi over it.

The events that lead to the kiss are as follows, Chibi Usa ends up taking the group to the future and explaining what happened and revealing who she is. A lot of stuff happens and Chibi Usa ends up running off into the time vortex by herself because she feels that no one needs her. In her weakest moment she is manipulated by wiseman (the bad guy) and given a corrupted version of her 5 year old dreams.

Mamoru, upon finding out she has run away, naturally chases after trying to make sure she is safe. Unfortunately for him, he can't go one arc without getting brain washed by the bad people, it is chronic. He is brainwashed and now does whatever Chibi Usa (Now Black Lady) tells him to do. In her childish mind, she wanted to possess her father and now she has been given the power to do so. In no way shape or form is this a consensual kiss between father and child.

Sailor Moons greatest strength is her love, but it is also her biggest weakness. Black Lady knows this and flaunts her "relationship" with Mamoru in front of her to shake her, hence kiss.

None of this is consensual or portrayed as "good". It is a portrayal of a child's complicated feelings being manipulated for someone else's benefit.