#some of my best friends are rhoda

[hitchell-mope]

Mary should have punched Joanne in the face.

[hotvintagepoll]

Zasu Pitts and Thelma Todd (Let's Do Things, Catch as Catch Can)—[a Vanity Fair article was submitted that was paywalled, so I'm putting the text of it under the cut]

Jimmy Stewart and Hedy Lamarr (Come Live With Me, Ziegfield Girl)—i will be honest they do not have such good chemistry. however i DO think its very funny to have jimothy "always sounds like hes swallowing some vanilla ice cream" stewmeister across from hedy "literally most gorgeous woman ever maybe?" lamarr. like thats some casting decision for sure.

This is round 2 of a mini tournament. Each poll lasts for three days. If you'd like to send additional propaganda supporting your favorite hot couple, you can reblog this post with your propaganda added, send it to my asks, or tag me in it. To vote in all the polls, click here. Happy holidays!

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Pitts and Todd:

Here is the text of the Vanity Fair article that was submitted, written by Donald Liebenson:

Before Lucy and Ethel, Laverne and Shirley, or Mary and Rhoda, there were Thelma Todd and Zasu Pitts. Separately, they were journeymen character actors in 1930s Hollywood. Together, they became the first major female comedy team, appearing in shorts that found them bonded as friends and career women struggling to make it on their own—the Depression-era answer to Abbi and Ilana of Broad City.

Over a two-year period, they made 17 shorts rarely seen since their theatrical release—and now collected for Thelma Todd & Zasu Pitts: The Hal Roach Collection 1931-33, a two-DVD set. They’re revelatory viewing, progressive, and proto-feminist portrayals of two career girls in the big city, defiantly dependent on each other.

Hal Roach, the legendary producer who teamed up Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy, envisioned Todd and Pitts as a female equivalent to his marquee stars. Blonde-bombshell Todd was a beauty queen plucked from Massachusetts by a talent scout and brought to Hollywood in the 1920s, where she primarily played comic relief in other people’s films. Kansas-born Pitts was a prolific character actress, so typecast as a comedienne that few directors took her seriously for dramatic roles (though her finest hours were in Erich von Stroheim’s epic, Greed). The contrast between them was more about character than looks. Todd was brash and confident, and Pitts a more dithery presence; think Olive Oyl.

“They have gumption; they’re unflappable,” explained Molly Haskell, film critic and author of the seminal book From Reverence to Rape: The Treatment of Women in the Movies. “They’re looking out for each other; you could just feel the value of the twosome. . . . They are modern women. Hopefully, they will rise to the top—but in the meantime, they’re just going to wing it and figure things out.”

The duo’s first short, Let’s Do Things, establishes their dynamic. Thelma and Zasu promote sheet-music sales in a department store. Pitts moons over her boyfriend, but a disapproving Thelma prompts her to remember why the two came to New York in the first place. “To advance ourselves, to meet the best people, and to do big things,” Pitts responds. By the end of the short, the boyfriend gets a pie in the face, courtesy of Todd.

“They’re always going to have each other’s back,” Haskell noted. “I don’t think there’s any of the shorts where they fight over a man.”

Todd and Pitts’s gender alone made them somewhat revolutionary in their day. Comedy teams were primarily the province of men: the Marx Brothers, the Three Stooges, Laurel and Hardy. “Slapstick was what men loved, and women didn’t because the whole core of it was tearing things up,” Haskell said. “It was chaotic and women wanted order. The defense of the domestic was a woman’s role . . . and slapstick violated the sense of order and decency and uprightness. They didn’t find it funny.”

But Todd and Pitts were both game for the physical stuff. In Let’s Do Things, Todd suffers a throw-about throttling from a quack osteopath; in the courtroom comedy Sneak Easily, juror Pitts throws a murder trial into chaos when she swallows a piece of the evidence—an explosive.

But in their best shorts (which, like the rest of their work, were written and directed by men), the mayhem is mostly in the service of a female narrative, observed film historian Jeanine Basinger. “It’s situational comedy,” she said. “If you’re going to make a plot centered around women, what the heck is she going to do just sitting around the house? They have to get out there in some way. . . . When you look at these films, what you see is what [the creators] thought was a good comedy female situation in that era. You have the chaos over Zasu’s hat in the boxing arena in Catch-as Catch-Can, the high-society party in which they are fish out of water in The Pajama Party, and the department-store melee in The Bargain of the Century. . . . The American woman on film is really a pretty active person, unless she is just stooging it in a male genre. Things have to happen to them, and they have to react. These shorts reflect that very clearly.”

More than 80 years on, the Todd-Pitts shorts play surprisingly well. Their appeal, talent, and chemistry elevate even the most dated material. “I like [Todd and Pitts] so much, and enjoy watching them,” said Leonard Maltin, author of the recently published anthology, Hooked on Hollywood: Discoveries from a Lifetime of Film Fandom and the essential 1970 book Movie Comedy Teams.

“I cannot tell a lie: the shorts are not all good. The gag men had a hard time coming up with suitable material that wouldn’t de-feminize them or make them look outlandishly unladylike, but [Todd and Pitts] play well today because [the characters] aren’t so different from two young women trying to make their way in the world in 2018. The struggles they have by and large tend not to be sexist. If they lose a job, they are comically inept, or it’s a blown opportunity.”

Max and Caroline of 2 Broke Girls, which ran for six seasons on CBS earlier this decade, could be the granddaughters of Thelma and Zasu. Beth Behrs, who played fallen privileged high-society woman Caroline, formed a formidable odd-couple relationship with Max (Kat Dennings), a street-smart waitress trying to start her own cupcake business. Their chemistry, Behrs said, was instant, and their real-life friendship informed their on-screen rapport over the show’s six seasons.

Though the actress was previously unfamiliar with Todd and Pitts, she watched a couple of their shorts on YouTube and saw a kinship with those aspirational woman. “It was important [Caroline and Max] were full-fledged women who really were entrepreneurs,” she said. “We never had a love interest for more than a season. It wasn’t about finding a man; it was about loving each other and building the business from nothing, and the two of them going after the American Dream together.”

For Todd and Pitts, the dream ended when Zasu left the team in 1933. Hal Roach replaced her with Patsy Kelly. Todd, who had appeared in some Laurel and Hardy shorts, is perhaps best known today for her two films with the Marx Brothers, Monkey Business and Horse Feathers. Her career was tragically cut short in 1935 when at the age of 29 she was found dead in her car. A grand jury ruled her death a suicide, but that did not explain bruises around her throat, a broken nose, and other injuries; her death remains one of Hollywood’s unsolved mysteries.

What do these 80-plus-year-old shorts have to tell us in 2018? “They show us what all old movies show us,” Basinger said. “They show us how it was, and they show us how it is. . . . We can see attitudes, we can see women out in the world doing things, having ideas and speaking out. And they show us how we are today.”

Two Broke Girls ended its run in 2017. Behrs currently stars with Max Greenfield and Cedric the Entertainer in another CBS comedy, The Neighborhood, about a white couple that moves into a predominantly black neighborhood. The first season’s initial episodes have already glimpsed the comic possibilities in her character’s relationship with her next-door neighbor (Cedric’s wife), played by Tichina Arnold. “There is an electricity between us,” Behrs said. “The writers saw it, and are exploring turning us into a Lucy and Ethel.”

No propaganda was submitted for Lamarr and Stewart.

[snnynatural]

i  made  a  new  years  post  on  my  positivity  blog  (  @lumiiiscorner  -  send  your  friends  some  love  ),  but  i  will  now  make  a  post  here!  feel  free  to  read  or  don't!  this  is  mainly  a  reflection  on  how  this  year  went.

2024…..  oh  man…..  i'm  gonna  have  to  admit,  it  was  the  worst  year  of  my  life.  not  being  paid  for  an  entire  year,  my  mom's  health,  overworked,  unemployed,  burnt  out,  existing  for  other  people,  and  so  on.  mental  health  spiraling  downward,  but  i  have  started  my  first  session  of  therapy  yesterday,  which  means  i  am  entering  this  new  year  with  self  healing.  not  only  that,  but  i  decided  to  try  on  a  new  career  path  (a  silly  one)  and  will  be  out  of  the  country  for  a  month  visiting  my  sister.  so  maybe  things  will  hopefully  turn  up!

with  this  year  being  the  way  it  is,  i  do  want  to  give  a  few  shoutouts  to  those  that  were  there  with  me  the  whole  time.  whether  it  was  the  beginning  of  the  year,  middle,  or  end,  you  guys  specifically  saw  how  much  shit  i  was  going  through  and  guided  me  through  it  and  i'm  forever  grateful.  some  of  you  might  be  tagged  more  than  once  since  i  will  be  making  this  post  on  all  my  blogs  and  you  guys  most  likely  follow  and  interact  with  me  in  all  of  them:

@rhodaes  oh  bitch…  we've  been  through  the  ringer  haven't  we?  if  this  year  has  taught  me  anything,  it's  how  despite  how  ugly  it  gets,  you  can  come  out  stronger.  and  we  did  just  that.  you  going  through  your  own  mess,  me  going  through  mine,  and  us  hitting  rocky  paths  but  here  we  are  now!  learning  more  about  each  other  and  continuing  to  love  each  other.  you've  been  my  day  one  since  i  came  back  to  indie.  and  you  remain  my  day  one  to  this  day.  can  i  just  say  how  proud  i  am  of  us?  cause  i  really  fucking  am.  this  year  was  a  bitch,  but  we're  gonna  be  tackling  2025  locked  arm  and  arm.  i  am  proud  of  how  far  you've  come  and  i  am  grateful  for  everything  you've  done  for  me  while  i've  been  falling  apart.  it's  a  mess  when  we're  both  dealing  with  a  lot,  but  i  know  you  have  my  back  and  i  have  yours.  now  we  gotta  get  our  shit  together  and  pick  up  on  spn  watches  rekjgbesjkrg

@gccdgraces  my  water  birthed  child…i  love  you  so  fucking  bad.  you've  seen  me  at  my  worst  this  whole  entire  year  and  not  once  have  you  made  me  feel  small  or  stupid.  you've  held  my  hand  through  this  fucking  nightmare.  reading  my  google  docs  to  our  power  hours.  you've  always  the  patience  to  just  sit  with  me  and  help  me  either  sit  through  my  emotions  or  just  keep  me  distracted.  can  you  believe  we're  almost  done  with  swac  and  about  to  enter  their  breakup  episode???  not  ready!!!!!  but  fack  man.  i  love  you  so  bad.  never  ever  getting  rid  of  me  bitch.  EVER.

@nightmarishwritings  sammy  sammy  sammy.  my  cinnamon  roll  baby.  i've  known  you  for  quite  some  time  now  and  we've  been  through  some  shit  at  the  same  time.  i  think  you're  one  of  the  ones  that  take  notice  when  i'm  not  around  and  come  searching  for  me.  that  little  thing  makes  me  want  to  snuggle  you  and  never  let  you  go.  and  your  kind  words  always  have  me  weeping.  i  hope  you  know  how  much  you  mean  to  me  and  how  your  kindness  is  never  taken  for  granted.  you  are  truly  one  of  my  best  friends  and  i'm  not  letting  you  go  mkay?  and  i  will  always  remain  as  your  guard  dog.  BARK  BARK.  you  deserve  the  world  and  maybe  one  day  i  will  kidnap  it  for  you  :)))

@salvatoraes  idk  how  many  years  it  has  been,  but  i  fucking  love  you  my  kidney  owner.  you've  been  there  for  me  through  so  much  shit  and  honestly?  this  year  i  am  surprised  how  much  we  both  are  going  through  some  similar  shit.  but  just  know  that  i'm  always  here  for  you  like  you're  always  here  for  me.  you  have  one  of  the  kindest  souls  out  there  and  you  always  keep  me  giggling.  especially  during  our  who  loves  who  the  most  war.  it's  me,  obviously.  but  i  appreciate  everything  you've  done  for  me  all  these  years.  i  won't  ever  take  it  for  granted.  and  i  hope  to  stick  with  you  longer  <3

@safestkittykatintown  /  @wavrlynatural  my  bumbling  bee!!!  this  year  was  the  year  we  have  become  so  close  and  i  am  forever  grateful.  granted,  i  don't  remember  how  we  got  close.  i  only  remember  sonny  adopting  max  and  then  everything  was  history  krejgsr  dare  i  say,  you're  the  selena  to  my  demi  mhm  yes.  i  am  forever  grateful  for  everything  you've  done  for  me.  sitting  with  me  and  chatting  with  me  through  my  mess.  not  to  mention,  all  the  positive  things  you  send  my  way  i  always  keep  in  my  heart.  literally,  you  have  kept  me  sane  this  entire  year.  and  i  know  you've  been  going  through  your  hard  times  as  well  and  all  i  can  say  is  that  i  am  proud  of  you!  i  see  you  working  on  yourself  while  also  showing  so  much  care  to  the  people  around  you.  love  you  immensely  despite  us  being  in  our  shitty  brain  eras  JKBRKJGBE  we  got  this!

@broknfeed  well  well  well  if  it  isn't  my  other  day  one.  i  still  remember  screaming  when  i  saw  your  message  in  my  inbox  when  you  came  back  after  3  years.  4  years?  idk  i  can't  remember.  either  way,  you  returned  and  i  still  cry  that  you  went  searching  for  me.  and  since  being  back  together,  i  am  forever  grateful  for  you.  you  listened  to  me  while  i  cried  and  i  snuggle  you  through  the  screen  with  your  own  things.  just  a  little  struggle  buses  aren't  we?  despite  all  this  shit,  you've  been  there  for  me  and  i  love  you  more  than  anything.  and  you  know  i'll  continue  to  be  here  for  you.  day  one  always.

@sacrisaint  my  bb  gurl  <3  i  will  start  this  off  by  saying  i  am  proud  of  you  and  all  the  work  you've  done  and  are  continuing  to  do.  i  hope  you  know  how  grateful  i  am  that  you've  checked  up  on  me  despite  me  being  a  stubborn  butt  kjrebsgkjbr  it  means  a  lot  and  so  does  your  friendship.  i  don't  remember  how  we  got  close,  i  just  remember  meg  thirsting  for  sonny  and  now  here  we  are  kjrbgeskjgb  i  still  wheeze  at  the  tire  movie  we  watched  and  i  hope  to  continue  watching  more  movies  with  you  soon!  like  how  i  confused  you  with  those  disney  shorts  kjregbsjk  i  love  you  and  hugging  you  bunches.

@bloodsalted / @safetypinned  dixon  you  fucking  ass  butt!!  you  are  such  a  troll  and  i  fucking  love  you.  always  kept  me  laughing  while  i'm  going  through  my  shit.  not  to  mention,  you  are  my  honorary  filipinoooo.  i  still  remember  being  so  nervous  about  interacting  with  you,  but  you  have  welcomed  me  with  open  arms.  not  only  that,  you've  become  one  of  the  important  people  in  my  life  who  has  done  nothing  but  be  there  when  i'm  feeling  like  shit  and  listening  to  all  the  thoughts  i  have  in  mind.  i  know  you've  been  up  and  down  as  well  and  i  hope  you  know  that  you'll  have  me  kicking  those  thoughts  away. 

@firstsoncain / @ceocrowley  ava  my  dear!  what  started  from  crack  shit  to  actual  things  i  will  forever  be  uwu  about  <3  i  love  you  dearly  and  i  appreciate  you  being  there  when  i  have  been  spending  some  time  away  from  tumblr.  always  being  their  with  open  ears  and  all.  i  am  so  grateful  to  you  and  so  glad  that  we  met.  your  writing  had  me  nervous  af  and  i  didn't  think  you'd  write  with  little  ol'e  me  but  here  we  are!  i  love  you  to  the  moon  and  back  and  i  appreciate  you  and  your  kindness  more  than  you  know.

@qapsiel  at  this  point  i  will  bless  your  womb  rebgksjebrgjkrgk  sarah!!  now,  i  have  not  dumped  my  little  sad  ass  on  you,  but  i  wanted  to  shout  you  out  because  during  my  shitty  days,  idk  how  it  happens,  but  you  are  usually  the  first  one  to  get  me  laughing.  with  the  shit  castiel  puts  sonny  through,  it  is  literally  the  highlight  every  time  i  log  online.  can  you  believe  it's  been  an  entire  year?  of  cas  trying  to  bless  sonny's  womb??  the  joke  will  never  die  and  i  just  love  you  very  much  <3

@rottenache  /  @benbraeden  /  @hervelle  lilly!!!!  i'm  so  glad  we're  not  divorced  kjbgerskgjberkjgb  not  like  we  can,  it's  in  our  contract.  but  i  want  to  start  off  by  saying  i  am  proud  of  you!  you've  been  through  so  much  and  you've  been  growing  and  learning  and  that  is  fucking  admirable.  i  am  so  grateful  to  you  for  being  there  for  me.  not  to  mention  how  we've  been  through  some  similar  ooc  things.  it  sucks  but  at  least  we  have  each  other.  i  am  so  appreciative  of  you  for  being  there  for  me  and  all  the  kindness  you  have  shown  me.  you  are  fucking  amazing  and  i  love  you  soooooo  much  <3

@lastvessel  we  haven't  known  each  other  long,  but  i  hope  you  know  that  your  kindness  hasn't  gone  unnoticed.  it  means  the  world  to  have  you  message  me  checking  up  on  me.  it  may  be  small,  but  it  impacts  me  so  much  more.  i  hope  to  continue  writing  with  you  and  creating  things  with  you!  you  are  such  a  beautiful  soul  and  i  hope  you  know  you  have  a  friend  in  me!

extra  little  shoutouts  for  the  few  that  kept  me  laughing  and  smiling  throughout  this  damn  year: 

@ofblackskies  ,  @wantdead  ,  @evanave  (and  all  your  other  blogs) , @konkuurito

also  another  another  shoutout  to  new  friends  that  i  hope  to  create  more  things  with  you  <3

@crispyblonde  (and  all  your  blogs)  ,  @hadesheiir  ,  @warsaves  ,  @cfthesoul , @dalphahale

i  know  i  have  probably  missed  a  bunch  others,  but  those  who  are  not  tagged,  i  love  you  still  the  same!!  i always get anxiety when i don't include everyone krebjkreg i hope  you  all  have  a  happy  new  year  <3

[greatcstarcher]

i  made  a  new  years  post  on  my  positivity  blog  (  @lumiiiscorner  -  send  your  friends  some  love  ),  but  i  will  now  make  a  post  here!  feel  free  to  read  or  don't!  this  is  mainly  a  reflection  on  how  this  year  went.

2024…..  oh  man…..  i'm  gonna  have  to  admit,  it  was  the  worst  year  of  my  life.  not  being  paid  for  an  entire  year,  my  mom's  health,  overworked,  unemployed,  burnt  out,  existing  for  other  people,  and  so  on.  mental  health  spiraling  downward,  but  i  have  started  my  first  session  of  therapy  yesterday,  which  means  i  am  entering  this  new  year  with  self  healing.  not  only  that,  but  i  decided  to  try  on  a  new  career  path  (a  silly  one)  and  will  be  out  of  the  country  for  a  month  visiting  my  sister.  so  maybe  things  will  hopefully  turn  up!

with  this  year  being  the  way  it  is,  i  do  want  to  give  a  few  shoutouts  to  those  that  were  there  with  me  the  whole  time.  whether  it  was  the  beginning  of  the  year,  middle,  or  end,  you  guys  specifically  saw  how  much  shit  i  was  going  through  and  guided  me  through  it  and  i'm  forever  grateful.  some  of  you  might  be  tagged  more  than  once  since  i  will  be  making  this  post  on  all  my  blogs  and  you  guys  most  likely  follow  and  interact  with  me  in  all  of  them:

@rhodaes  oh  bitch…  we've  been  through  the  ringer  haven't  we?  if  this  year  has  taught  me  anything,  it's  how  despite  how  ugly  it  gets,  you  can  come  out  stronger.  and  we  did  just  that.  you  going  through  your  own  mess,  me  going  through  mine,  and  us  hitting  rocky  paths  but  here  we  are  now!  learning  more  about  each  other  and  continuing  to  love  each  other.  you've  been  my  day  one  since  i  came  back  to  indie.  and  you  remain  my  day  one  to  this  day.  can  i  just  say  how  proud  i  am  of  us?  cause  i  really  fucking  am.  this  year  was  a  bitch,  but  we're  gonna  be  tackling  2025  locked  arm  and  arm.  i  am  proud  of  how  far  you've  come  and  i  am  grateful  for  everything  you've  done  for  me  while  i've  been  falling  apart.  it's  a  mess  when  we're  both  dealing  with  a  lot,  but  i  know  you  have  my  back  and  i  have  yours.  now  we  gotta  get  our  shit  together  and  pick  up  on  spn  watches  rekjgbesjkrg

@gccdgraces  my  water  birthed  child…i  love  you  so  fucking  bad.  you've  seen  me  at  my  worst  this  whole  entire  year  and  not  once  have  you  made  me  feel  small  or  stupid.  you've  held  my  hand  through  this  fucking  nightmare.  reading  my  google  docs  to  our  power  hours.  you've  always  the  patience  to  just  sit  with  me  and  help  me  either  sit  through  my  emotions  or  just  keep  me  distracted.  can  you  believe  we're  almost  done  with  swac  and  about  to  enter  their  breakup  episode???  not  ready!!!!!  but  fack  man.  i  love  you  so  bad.  never  ever  getting  rid  of  me  bitch.  EVER.

@nightmarishwritings  sammy  sammy  sammy.  my  cinnamon  roll  baby.  i've  known  you  for  quite  some  time  now  and  we've  been  through  some  shit  at  the  same  time.  i  think  you're  one  of  the  ones  that  take  notice  when  i'm  not  around  and  come  searching  for  me.  that  little  thing  makes  me  want  to  snuggle  you  and  never  let  you  go.  and  your  kind  words  always  have  me  weeping.  i  hope  you  know  how  much  you  mean  to  me  and  how  your  kindness  is  never  taken  for  granted.  you  are  truly  one  of  my  best  friends  and  i'm  not  letting  you  go  mkay?  and  i  will  always  remain  as  your  guard  dog.  BARK  BARK.  you  deserve  the  world  and  maybe  one  day  i  will  kidnap  it  for  you  :)))

@salvatoraes  idk  how  many  years  it  has  been,  but  i  fucking  love  you  my  kidney  owner.  you've  been  there  for  me  through  so  much  shit  and  honestly?  this  year  i  am  surprised  how  much  we  both  are  going  through  some  similar  shit.  but  just  know  that  i'm  always  here  for  you  like  you're  always  here  for  me.  you  have  one  of  the  kindest  souls  out  there  and  you  always  keep  me  giggling.  especially  during  our  who  loves  who  the  most  war.  it's  me,  obviously.  but  i  appreciate  everything  you've  done  for  me  all  these  years.  i  won't  ever  take  it  for  granted.  and  i  hope  to  stick  with  you  longer  <3

@stainedkept  yelena  to  my  kate  uwu.  you  have  been  nothing  but  patient  with  me  while  also  keeping  me  smiling  through  this  tough  year.  it's  been  so  much,  but  you've  always  waited  with  open  arms  and  sent  me  the  most  silly  things.  i  am  so  entirely  grateful  for  you  and  for  the  things  we  have  created  together.  thank  you  for  always  being  so  kind  to  me  and  creating  a  shit  show  with  me.  i  love  you  to  the  moon  and  back!

extra  little  shoutouts  for  the  few  that  kept  me  laughing  and  smiling  throughout  this  damn  year: 

@evanave  (and  all  your  other  blogs)  ,  @brknghrts  ,  @ofcrossrcads  ,  @anunkindncss  (ima  need  you  to  come  back  to  me  yes  yes?)  ,  @humanchewtoy  ,  @freezegirl

also  another  another  shoutout  to  new  friends  that  i  hope  to  create  more  things  with  you  <3

@cfthesoul  ,  @ttheagcd  ,  @perilousxrealm , @maxmoffs (and your other blogs)

i  know  i  have  probably  missed  a  bunch  others,  but  those  who  are  not  tagged,  i  love  you  still  the  same!!  i  always  get  anxiety  when  i  don't  include  everyone  krebjkreg  hope  you  all  have  a  happy  new  year  <3

[snnydcys]

i  made  a  new  years  post  on  my  positivity  blog  (  @lumiiiscorner  -  send  your  friends  some  love  ),  but  i  will  now  make  a  post  here!  feel  free  to  read  or  don't!  this  is  mainly  a  reflection  on  how  this  year  went.

2024…..  oh  man…..  i'm  gonna  have  to  admit,  it  was  the  worst  year  of  my  life.  not  being  paid  for  an  entire  year,  my  mom's  health,  overworked,  unemployed,  burnt  out,  existing  for  other  people,  and  so  on.  mental  health  spiraling  downward,  but  i  have  started  my  first  session  of  therapy  yesterday,  which  means  i  am  entering  this  new  year  with  self  healing.  not  only  that,  but  i  decided  to  try  on  a  new  career  path  (a  silly  one)  and  will  be  out  of  the  country  for  a  month  visiting  my  sister.  so  maybe  things  will  hopefully  turn  up!

with  this  year  being  the  way  it  is,  i  do  want  to  give  a  few  shoutouts  to  those  that  were  there  with  me  the  whole  time.  whether  it  was  the  beginning  of  the  year,  middle,  or  end,  you  guys  specifically  saw  how  much  shit  i  was  going  through  and  guided  me  through  it  and  i'm  forever  grateful.  some  of  you  might  be  tagged  more  than  once  since  i  will  be  making  this  post  on  all  my  blogs  and  you  guys  most  likely  follow  and  interact  with  me  in  all  of  them:

@rhodaes  oh  bitch…  we've  been  through  the  ringer  haven't  we?  if  this  year  has  taught  me  anything,  it's  how  despite  how  ugly  it  gets,  you  can  come  out  stronger.  and  we  did  just  that.  you  going  through  your  own  mess,  me  going  through  mine,  and  us  hitting  rocky  paths  but  here  we  are  now!  learning  more  about  each  other  and  continuing  to  love  each  other.  you've  been  my  day  one  since  i  came  back  to  indie.  and  you  remain  my  day  one  to  this  day.  can  i  just  say  how  proud  i  am  of  us?  cause  i  really  fucking  am.  this  year  was  a  bitch,  but  we're  gonna  be  tackling  2025  locked  arm  and  arm.  i  am  proud  of  how  far  you've  come  and  i  am  grateful  for  everything  you've  done  for  me  while  i've  been  falling  apart.  it's  a  mess  when  we're  both  dealing  with  a  lot,  but  i  know  you  have  my  back  and  i  have  yours.  now  we  gotta  get  our  shit  together  and  pick  up  on  spn  watches  rekjgbesjkrg

@gccdgraces  my  water  birthed  child…i  love  you  so  fucking  bad.  you've  seen  me  at  my  worst  this  whole  entire  year  and  not  once  have  you  made  me  feel  small  or  stupid.  you've  held  my  hand  through  this  fucking  nightmare.  reading  my  google  docs  to  our  power  hours.  you've  always  the  patience  to  just  sit  with  me  and  help  me  either  sit  through  my  emotions  or  just  keep  me  distracted.  can  you  believe  we're  almost  done  with  swac  and  about  to  enter  their  breakup  episode???  not  ready!!!!!  but  fack  man.  i  love  you  so  bad.  never  ever  getting  rid  of  me  bitch.  EVER.

@nightmarishwritings  sammy  sammy  sammy.  my  cinnamon  roll  baby.  i've  known  you  for  quite  some  time  now  and  we've  been  through  some  shit  at  the  same  time.  i  think  you're  one  of  the  ones  that  take  notice  when  i'm  not  around  and  come  searching  for  me.  that  little  thing  makes  me  want  to  snuggle  you  and  never  let  you  go.  and  your  kind  words  always  have  me  weeping.  i  hope  you  know  how  much  you  mean  to  me  and  how  your  kindness  is  never  taken  for  granted.  you  are  truly  one  of  my  best  friends  and  i'm  not  letting  you  go  mkay?  and  i  will  always  remain  as  your  guard  dog.  BARK  BARK.  you  deserve  the  world  and  maybe  one  day  i  will  kidnap  it  for  you  :)))

@salvatoraes  idk  how  many  years  it  has  been,  but  i  fucking  love  you  my  kidney  owner.  you've  been  there  for  me  through  so  much  shit  and  honestly?  this  year  i  am  surprised  how  much  we  both  are  going  through  some  similar  shit.  but  just  know  that  i'm  always  here  for  you  like  you're  always  here  for  me.  you  have  one  of  the  kindest  souls  out  there  and  you  always  keep  me  giggling.  especially  during  our  who  loves  who  the  most  war.  it's  me,  obviously.  but  i  appreciate  everything  you've  done  for  me  all  these  years.  i  won't  ever  take  it  for  granted.  and  i  hope  to  stick  with  you  longer  <3

@wavrlywizard  my  bumbling  bee!!!  this  year  was  the  year  we  have  become  so  close  and  i  am  forever  grateful.  granted,  i  don't  remember  how  we  got  close.  i  only  remember  sonny  adopting  max  and  then  everything  was  history  krejgsr  dare  i  say,  you're  the  selena  to  my  demi  mhm  yes.  i  am  forever  grateful  for  everything  you've  done  for  me.  sitting  with  me  and  chatting  with  me  through  my  mess.  not  to  mention,  all  the  positive  things  you  send  my  way  i  always  keep  in  my  heart.  literally,  you  have  kept  me  sane  this  entire  year.  and  i  know  you've  been  going  through  your  hard  times  as  well  and  all  i  can  say  is  that  i  am  proud  of  you!  i  see  you  working  on  yourself  while  also  showing  so  much  care  to  the  people  around  you.  love  you  immensely  despite  us  being  in  our  shitty  brain  eras  JKBRKJGBE  we  got  this!

@broknfeed  well  well  well  if  it  isn't  my  other  day  one.  i  still  remember  screaming  when  i  saw  your  message  in  my  inbox  when  you  came  back  after  3  years.  4  years?  idk  i  can't  remember.  either  way,  you  returned  and  i  still  cry  that  you  went  searching  for  me.  and  since  being  back  together,  i  am  forever  grateful  for  you.  you  listened  to  me  while  i  cried  and  i  snuggle  you  through  the  screen  with  your  own  things.  just  a  little  struggle  buses  aren't  we?  despite  all  this  shit,  you've  been  there  for  me  and  i  love  you  more  than  anything.  and  you  know  i'll  continue  to  be  here  for  you.  day  one  always.

@westwingsolo  a!!  my  beautiful  bean!!  ever  since  we  met,  you  have  shown  me  nothing  but  kindness.  welcomed  me  with  open  arms  and  have  continued  to  grace  me  with  your  good  heart.  you  somehow  always  seem  to  make  me  feel  like  it's  all  going  to  be  okay.  your  kind  words  and  how  patient  you  are  is  not  taken  for  granted.  i  always  consider  you  one  of  my  bbies  and  i  just  adore  you  immensely.  that's  never  ever  going  to  change  and  i  am  so  grateful  for  you.

extra  little  shoutouts  for  the  few  that  kept  me  laughing  and  smiling  throughout  this  damn  year: 

@ofblackskies  ,  @evanave  (and  all  your  other  blogs)  ,  @story1ines  ,  @havvkinsqueen  ,  @brknghrts

also  another  another  shoutout  to  new  friends  that  i  hope  to  create  more  things  with  you  <3

@hadesheiir  ,  @poetsprophecy  ,  @cfthesoul  ,  @ttheagcd

i  know  i  have  probably  missed  a  bunch  others,  but  those  who  are  not  tagged,  i  love  you  still  the  same!!  i  always  get  anxiety  when  i  don't  include  everyone  krebjkreg  hope  you  all  have  a  happy  new  year  <3

[girldragongizzard]

Chapter 2: My people

Rhoda is sitting in her apartment, near the north facing window of her dining area, leaning on the table there and looking out at the courthouse, with its grandiose modern architecture and its halo of golden brown trees.

She’s thinking about last Thursday when her best friend just got her new name legally recognized, and the emotions that they both felt and shared that day.

She remembers that that was the day she first started revisiting the harder memories she has of her son. Her child. Memories she’d been avoiding for more than a decade. 

It’s been pretty rough since then, and this friend of hers is in the middle of the roughness. She wishes she had more friends. But what she has are countless acquaintances and contacts. People she could work at to become friends with, if she could trust them enough. Or had the energy to try.

Sometimes circumstances choose friendships for you.

And she did get to reminisce and vent all Sunday, and that was cathartic and something she’s been needing for a long time.

But then, the next day, she learned that her friend is something she can barely comprehend.

She knew she was a dragon. And she knew she was raised by white parents, and basically white herself. These were things that Rhoda had chosen to accept and work with for the sake of their growing companionship and mutual support. And that talk on Sunday had been so important to her.

But then Meghan Estragon Draconis goes and says that she’s more immortal than the immortals they both know that have been monkeying with human affairs.

And Rhoda’s brain has gone blank.

She’s seen the magic at work, since that first day. It’s easy to believe in. It’s nigh impossible not to. It’s as real as electricity.

And it feels like her new best friend has suddenly been replaced by the page of a book. An illustration with a caption underneath it on the top half, labeled with her friend’s name. And the bottom half with just a snippet of story. Hardly anything she can make sense of.

Is there a person there anymore?

Was there ever?

She didn’t go down to the shop today, because she needs this alone time to try to think about this.

“I don’t want to get caught up in nobody else’s myth,” her mouth says. And she half agrees with it.

If it were the right myth, and she had the right role, it feels like it would take her away from her pain, though. And that’s why she’d given Meghan the time of day in the first place, she realizes.

Maybe she should start going back to church. Not for the religion, of course. That’s already rejected her and her child, Jacob. But for the community. The chance of having some kind of family again.

She could maybe leave her truths here, in her apartment, for that.

It’s so fucking hard.

She and Meghan had been lonely together, and it was something, at least.

Her phone buzzes.

She pulls it out and sees a message from Meghan in her group chat, “All plans blown today. Met Säure at DMV. Want to eat him. Talking instead.”

—

Astraia’s oversized keyboard arrived yesterday, so today she and Caleb are trying it out.

Caleb works graveyard, so he’s effectively staying up late. But he says it’s worth it.

The livingroom of their apartment has become a hydra den, the white walls completely unadorned, and half the floor of the room covered with animal hides they’ve been trading and saving for. Astraia’s old wardrobe and some of the furniture went into the effort of acquiring them.

The other half has their computers hooked up to two medium sized TVs.

She can’t fit through the front door anymore, but the sliding glass door leading the concrete patio is still big enough. Another molt, and she might have to find a garage to move into.

But she’s not arguing with herselves about that right now. She’s almost all completely focused on playing Diablo 2: Resurrection with Caleb.

She’s hissing. He’s cussing. But occasionally they will each reach out and give the other an affectionate bump. They’re working together through the Kurrast swamps on Hell and they both have always hated this level. The shared hatred feels like a kind of love.

Fortuitously, right as she creates a town portal and steps through to the safety of the docks, there’s a loud ping from Discord.

Her rightmost head poinks at Caleb, and she switches over to see which server it’s coming from. Caleb nods and leans over to look at her screen.

Queen Meg’s, of course.

The general channel.

Meg wrote, “Säure is dragon. Can human. Talking right now. All day. Might eat him.”

She and Caleb exchange glances, then she types, “Save us eight bites.”

Caleb holds out a fist, and she bumps it with one of her noses.

They keep playing

—

Joel is enjoying his new favorite pastime of letting children play on him.

It is a weekday, and most kids are at school, and usually it would be just him and the seagulls unless he went to one of his other haunts to drink with the locals. But there’s this one family, and it’s clear that the two children need their dragon time while their mother talks with a friend about their troubles. He can’t talk, but he’ll be here for them whenever he can. Tuesdays are usually one of their days.

There isn’t much to it. He just lies there, and they climb all over him, ignoring the actual play toy in the playground. Occasionally, when they’re both far enough away from him for a moment, he’ll roll over and change his positioning. Always folding up his wings carefully, and tight, though, as out of the way as possible.

A few strategic groans, and the kids all learn pretty quickly where not to step, if they don’t figure it out themselves at first glance.

He’s now lying on his back in the grass with his head facing east, giving him an upside down view of the hill that Flounder Sound Brewpub is on, and the university behind that. And he can’t help yawning.

Later that night, he’ll do his rounds and swallow up the excess food that the restaurants have to throw out. He’s their new compost bin, and it’s a pretty good gig. Sometimes he gets some beer out of the deal, too.

He doesn’t have a tablet or a phone or anything like that that he can use to connect with the other dragons, but he feels like he’s starting to understand them as if they’re talking, even when they don’t utter a word. He wonders if that goes both ways. Sometimes it seems like Meghan understands him better than she should.

In any case, he doesn’t get the message from Meghan in any way.

Instead, what happens is that he feels her and another dragon enter his territory as if they were rolling onto one of his wings with a little toy car. It’s not a painful sensation at all, just a very clear and obvious one. And he recognizes her presence very clearly.

He’s always been able to do this, even before, though no one believed him about all the dragons.

He doesn’t recognize the other one, but he knows his nature. That’s a really fucking big dragon.

He groans and gives an affable yawp and starts to roll very slowly back onto his feet. The two kids both complain and whine, but dutifully and carefully get off.

Once everyone is situated in a standing position, he looks at them, bobs his head, and then yawps quietly again, as cheerfully as he can manage.

And then he starts galloping toward the brewpub where Meghan and her rival are clearly headed.

—

Wentin is standing precariously on the roof of the wooden observation tower on the hill in the Fairport Arboretum, facing north, its lionine form dwarfing the structure. Its head is turning ever so subtly as it tracks the movement of a speck of a car driving from Northside to the south end of Downtown Fairport. There are times when the car is not visible to it, hidden behind trees or buildings, but its gaze is unerringly accurate.

It’s not tracking by sight.

As the car approaches the brewpub that’s its destination, Wentin creaks, “Too soon. Much too soon.”

—

Chapman has an annoying little job today.

It’s a business card sie has to design from elements the client gave the shop.

The problem is that the chosen comp has been returned on the third revision with the note, “Can we make my logo bigger, pls.” This is the third time sie has seen that note on this job.

As always, if the logo were any bigger it would bleed off the edges of the card and be illegible.

It seems like, about four times a year, another client makes this same demand of a business card or a small ad or a brochure. There’s just a type of business owner that doesn’t seem to understand the concept of space or how to communicate what it is that they actually want, and they all use the same cut and paste note, complete with the abbreviated “pls”.

Talking to hir coworkers and boss about it only gets light commiseration and maybe a cussword or two, but no further understanding. Nobody has a clue why people do this.

It must be a neurotype. A percentage of the human population that just sees space differently somehow.

Chapman dearly wants to scan this client to find out what’s going on, but that goes against hir personal code of ethics.

The only thing sie can do design-wise is actually make the logo a tiny bit smaller, increasing the white space around it, and moving all the other elements just a tad further away from it, shrinking them.

Otherwise, sie can effectively fire the client as being too hard to work with. Hir boss will back hir up on that.

Sie decides to give her expert design decision a try, thinking about how sie really shouldn’t have to put this much thought into such a small, routine job. And sighs.

Hir phone buzzes.

Sie leans back in hir chair and picks it up from its face down space on hir desk to look at the message as briefly as possible.

It’s Meghan.

It’s Meghan with Säure.

Chapman touches the scanning tattoos on hir wrists together and focuses on Meghan’s patterns, knowing that Meghan will feel this, and perhaps Säure will too.

They’re headed to Flounder Sound Brewpub, in a car.

Chapman scans the whole city next and spends a moment thinking about the data sie received from it.

It’s not numbers. It’s not something you could plug into a computer.

This century, Chapman would choose to describe it as like strings of probability, all interwoven and passing waves of meaning to each other. And that looking at a portion of it can give you clues as to what’s happening in the greater universe and hints as to what’s happening to a tinier portion of it, but never anything definitive. But at the scale of pattern that you look at, if you squint, sometimes you can predict the future.

Kind of like predicting where a baseball will fly after a pitcher has thrown it. At a certain point, you’re trying to predict where it will go after the batter has swung, and that’s harder.

Chapman groans and presses the backs of hir wrists together, a different set of tattoos.

This time, all the power in the building goes out.

Chapman was saving this particular effect for an emergency like this.

The power won’t go on for the rest of the day, and everyone will have to go home, where they will be slightly safer.

Maybe that will have been unnecessary, but sie does care about them.

—

Kim and Kimberly both interrupt their tasks to pull their phones out of their pockets at the same time and look at them. Then they exchange uneasy looks.

“What just happened?” the nosiest customer they’ve either ever met asks them.

“Armageddon,” Kimberly says, shugging, and putting her phone back in her skirt pocket, and then turning to the espresso machine to prep it.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it will be fine,” Kim says, waving her hand dismissively at the customer and going back to the POS to finish the order.

Later, Kim mumbles to Kimberly, “I’m sure the others will keep us informed.”

“Or we’ll hear about it with our own ears when the city explodes,” Kimberly responds.

“Please don’t talk like that.”

—

Since his last statement, I’ve been having trouble figuring out what to say to Säure, and the rest of the drive has been oppressively quiet.

It’s almost like he’s managed to paralyze me with just words.

It’s my C-PTSD, I know. Suddenly having a social demand placed on me by an authority figure sometimes does this to me, even if I don’t want to recognize them as an authority.

I’m painfully aware of the perceived power he has over me as someone in his socio-economic position, and the very possible real power he has that I just honestly don’t know about. I don’t know what he’s spent his money on. And he has a larger vocabulary than me while exhibiting at least one of my own special abilities.

His draconic prowess is a huge unknown.

But, you know? So is mine. I’ve only just started learning what I can really do. And I can feel I’m due for another molt, which means I’m growing. I think. I know I’m growing. Maybe molting happens regardless.

So now, I’m holding my tablet in my lap and staring at the road, ignoring the car around me, and thinking about just whether or not I can get the better of him and show my dominance, at all. Ever.

And then we get to our destination, and the lunch time rush has made it so there are no parking spots within a two block radius.

And I get the rare joy to see a genuine billionaire silently, stoically fuming as he drives in circles, looking for a place to park where he won’t have to walk very much.

The really weird part of this moment is when I realize that we’re both dragons who should not be doing this. We should have our teeth on each other’s necks, claws dug into each other’s sides, beating each other silly with our wings. We should be wreathed in fire.

—

Ptarmigan stands on the roof of the Magnolia apartments, keeping an eye on Meghan’s duffel bag, even though she never asked her to do that.

It just has old clothes of Chapman’s in it. And there’s nothing else special on the roof, besides a smattering of small polished river rocks and undigested compressed pellets full of beak, bone, and feather fragments.

But every now and then, Ptarmigan feels like it’s a good idea to be up here when Meghan isn’t, and to keep an eye on things. Especially when the police presence in the neighborhood picks up.

She’s not exactly worried about being caught up here.

It would be extremely inconvenient. But she’s taken precautions to make that improbable. While she’s present, anyone thinking about checking the roof, or glancing its way, will remember nightmares they had as a child that terrorized them, and stop thinking about it.

Meghan’s had enough bother from the human authorities. It’s time someone trained them to reflexively ignore her home.

Meghan has no idea that Ptarmigan is doing this, and that doesn’t really matter.

Ptarmigan’s phone buzzes and she looks at it.

“Yeah,” she says. Then she walks to the southeast corner of the building and looks out over the city toward one of the brewpubs. The one near the Farmer’s Market square.

She reaches up and grabs the toothpick that’s in her mouth and flicks it out toward the street. She doesn’t even watch it fall.

Sitting down on the edge of the building, legs dangling over the side, she pulls her little sketch-journal out and yanks the ballpoint pen out of its spine.

It’s time to do some real work.

—

Maybe I’ll hear about all these reactions my friends are having after the fact and include them in one of the books I’m writing. For now, I’m just speculating.

I know that I now plan on writing several. Without being able to talk as well as I used to, I have the urge to be at my computer as often as possible and just write. And I know that even if I just write about the first few weeks of this whole experience, I’m going to infodump about dragons and it’s going to get too long for one book. And a lot has happened. A lot keeps happening.

Or, maybe I’ll be messily killed and eaten, if not by Säure then by Wentin, and I’ll lose my memories of this life, and it will all be filled in by one of my friends, as they finish this chapter of my story.

I feel pretty comfortable with either outcome, honestly. Though I don’t look forward to the experience of being eaten. Or most of me doesn’t.

I haven’t quite yet figured out how it will all turn out, but at least I know what I am.

—

There’s a moment, at the stop sign right in front of the brewpub, where the incensed Säure stops and just breathes. He closes his eyes, hands at ten and two o’clock, relaxes his shoulders, and takes in a breath through his nose and lets it out through his teeth.

And then he watches as a family of four leave the restaurant section of the brewpub and start walking toward their van, which appears to be parked around the corner to the right of us.

A little earlier, I had felt shifts from Chapman and Ptarmigan, so I know I’m being looked after.

If Säure did anything, I didn’t feel it.

He didn’t use Artistry.

I know I don’t feel any sort of shift when Wentin does its weird shit. And I expect I won’t feel anything whenever Säure sheds his disguise.

I can speculate as to what this means. It seems pretty obvious, but sometimes I like to keep my reactions free of conclusions. I just note this right now.

Maybe Säure didn’t do anything but relax.

He smiles at me as the spot opens up and he pulls forward to turn and take it before anyone else can.

“It. Worked,” he says.

[haggishlyhagging]

The eviction of TV's single women repeats a pattern established in television's last backlash. Early television actually offered quite a number of single-woman shows, although most featured hapless schoolmarms, maids, and typists in such fare as "Private Secretary," "Ella Miss," "My Friend Irma," "Our Miss Brooks," and "Meet Millie." By the mid-1950s, however, every program with a single woman in the lead had been canceled. And the unwed heroine would remain out of sight throughout the early and mid-1960s, appearing only as an incidental character, a reminder to female viewers of the woes of unwed life. On "The Dick Van Dyke Show," single Sally Rogers served to throw into relief the good fortunes and greater femininity of Van Dyke's doted-upon housewife—played by Mary Tyler Moore. In the many doctor and hospital shows of the '60s, single women surfaced only as patients, their illnesses typically caused by some "selfish" act—getting an abortion, having an affair or, most popular, disobeying a doctor's orders.

But in 1970, Mary Tyler Moore traded in the Van Dyke dollhouse for her own apartment and show. Moore's Mary Richards was not only unwed, she was more than thirty years old. Marriage panic did not afflict her. She had real male and female friends, enjoyed a healthy sex life, turned down men who didn't appeal to her, and even took the pill—without winding up on a hospital bed in the final scene. (She was, however, still the subordinated pseudo-schoolgirl to her boss; while her officemates called their chief "Lou," she always said "Mr. Grant.") Female viewers adored her. The program maintained top ratings for its entire run, won twenty-five Emmys, and it spun off two other successful sitcoms with independent female leads. Meanwhile, other programmers got the message and drafted their own shows about strong and independent unmarried women, from the realistic in "One Day at a Time" to the superhuman in "The Bionic Woman."

In 1986, a decade after her previous triumph, the networks returned Mary Tyler Moore to prime time—as a burned-out scowling divorcée whose career is only an object of derision. In "Mary," she writes the consumer Help Line column for a trashy tabloid. She has no confidantes on or off the job, a fact that heightens an already bleakly drawn existence. Next door, her earthy best friend Rhoda is replaced by a narcissistic single career woman, an ad executive who is desperate for a ring from any man. In one episode, the neighbor meets a mobster and announces her engagement the same day.

Moore's neighbor was not the only single television woman willing to lower her expectations in the quest for a marriage license. Under pressure from the network, the creators of "Kate and Allie" married off divorced mother Allie to a colorless suitor she had known only a short while. That same season on "Moonlighting," a pregnant Maddie Hayes got hitched to a dishwater-dull accountant right after they met on a train. Cybill Shepherd, who played Maddie, was adamantly opposed to this plot twist, and viewers were similarly disgusted. The show, in fact, was swamped with so many outraged letters that the producers finally had to annul the marriage.

Maddie's coerced matrimony was only the latest development in a long-running campaign to cow this independent female figure. David Addison, a carefree bachelor and Maddie's employee, ultimately tames his "queen bee" boss the old-fashioned way; he slaps her, and she surrenders to his advances. Still not satisfied, the series' producers later have her grovel before the preening David, literally on her knees. The shaming of Maddie Hayes was no idle writing exercise. It mirrored a behind-the-scenes campaign, conducted by both executive producer Glenn Caron and actor Bruce Willis (who played David), to curb the single Shepherd's "aggressive" personality. They told the press they didn't like how she was always voicing her opinion when she disagreed with the show's direction. At Caron's behest, the network sent Shepherd a disciplinary letter. The memo ordered her, on penalty of suit or the show's cancellation, to follow the director's orders, submit to timed breaks, and ask for permission before leaving the set. "I felt ill when I received it," Shepherd said at the time. "It was like reform school."

-Susan Faludi, Backlash: the Undeclared War Against American Women

[mocha-gladiator]

"Many that live deserve death. Some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo? Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgement. Even the very wise cannot see all ends."

-Fellowship of the Ring

thinking about this ^^^ and how I'd like to have a non-violent character with great power in a very violent fantasy environment. It's actually more difficult to write than I anticipated because there's so many things that will eat you in there and normalized cannibalism and child abuse and things that just really get even myself worked up and the character has to have the restraint to keep himself from getting angry in the first place so it doesn't snowball.

each of my characters has a different approach to fighting.

- Ka won't fight no matter what you do to him unless he has to stand up for someone else, then god rest your soul.

- Cairo is just "violence is okay and murder is a treat."

- Argon is interesting to me because he's calm and cold as a frozen lake if you taunt him, bother his friends, shove him, slander his name, anything. But there's a line. And you won't know where that line is until you realize you're looking down at your own body.

- Cyprien will try to defend himself and then get upset thinking he looked like a jerk and then avoid the place/person where he got his ass whooped like the plague until something changes.

- Typhon's method is to act as a shield in any situation. It's less about him and more about anyone who might need him. In a verbal, passive aggressive situation he can lighten the mood with incredible ease, or ease the tension by addressing the problem. "Is there something we can do so you both feel more comfortable?" But in a fight, he's literally just a meat shield.

- Rhoda has guards at her beckon, and can have whomever is actually violent removed (and executed quietly), but her problems lie in more complex social situations. An outsider might think her enemy was her best friend from how much they laugh together, but she's really got to dance through her words to keep it that way.

Circling back to the main point, Sorien is still new and being given flesh, and I don't know how to write him as non-violent in a place that is quite literally dog-eat-dog.

I would like to write him as someone "not safe, but good," but as a former human he is going to make mistakes. Even characters that have eaten children will beg for mercy and pity and cry for their mother when they sense their own demise, which would leave anyone wondering if they did the right thing.

[imrodolforeli]

Jersey No. 09

Written by Rhoda Chapter II

Chapter II 

I couldn’t imagine that I was already a third-year college student. Whenever I look back or reminisce about the struggles and dilemmas I have encountered and surpassed just to be here in this moment of my life, I am really, really proud of myself. And, of course, I am prouder, and I salute myself for doing my best in my academic undertakings. I could say that all of my efforts in prioritizing my studies had paid off. My general weighted averages (GWAs) for the previous two semesters of my sophomore year were twice as big as my GWAs during my freshman year.

I'm not the brightest student in the class. But I would say that I am competitive enough for a mediocre or average student. Maybe the reason for this competitive spirit I have—aside from, of course, embodying the university’s mission and vision that I am studying at—is because I feel like studying is the only thing that I know and feel like I am good at. I don’t have talents to show the world. That’s why I try to work harder and better in my studies—the only thing that makes me feel like I belong in this world. I get that sense of validation whenever I see that my GPAs are good and when someone praises me for having those good grades.

My sophomore year was filled not just by good things about my grades or academics. I must say that it was also a roller coaster. So, last year, during the second semester, there were irregular students who became our classmates in some of our courses and whom we eventually became friends with.

There was this only guy from those irregular students with whom I became very close. His name is Neil Labrusca. A guy who is supposed to be a third-year student during that time. However, he decided to drop some of his courses in his second (sophomore) year because of the difficulties he had encountered during online classes amidst the COVID-19 pandemic.

Neil is probably 5’8 feet tall. He has a not-so-dark complexion and is quite physically masculine. In terms of his demeanor, he is carefree, nonchalant, and a good, sweet talker. He is also friendly and respectful to everyone. All of those qualities he possessed are what other people call ‘green flags’. And yes, personally, those are my green flags. That was probably the very reason why we became so close and became best friends. I like that about him so much. These are the qualities that I really want a guy to have. And because of those qualities, I started to like him romantically but secretly.

I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable around me, which is why I decided to hide what I truly feel towards him. For some reason, I'm kind of certain that he will not judge me for having these feelings for him because he’s a good man. However, I was still scared that if I confessed my feelings to him, he would change how he usually treats me as his best friend. I was scared of the thought of losing him.

I had been in this exact situation many times before. When I confessed how I truly feel towards the straight guy I like, it all ended up being strangers! It really sucks. It crashes and shatters my heart into pieces. I don’t like that feeling. It was depressing and self-deprecating. And I certainly don’t want that to happen to me and Neil again. So, I tried my utmost best to conceal my feelings for him. But I failed!

When I like someone, I can’t help but express it intentionally and unintentionally. It seems like the person becomes the center of my world. I do things that I don’t regularly do to my close friends. I started to always look for them whenever they were out of my sight or when they were absent. I always make myself available for them. I offer help even though they are not asking about it. I become clingy around them. I always want to talk to them; in real time or through chats. I give them stuff that they don’t usually ask. And, I feel jealous when they are talking or being close with other gays. I feel jealous when they make themselves available for others but not for me. I feel hurt when they don’t respond to my chats and calls. Sadly, this was exactly what happened to me and Neil. When I confessed how deeply in love I am with him. Everything changed just as I anticipated it.

          Frankly, it was all my fault. I am the one to blame for my carelessness. If I had tried harder to conceal my feelings and stay cool about it this would not have happened to me. Maybe I am still enjoying his company and showering myself with his sweet words and gestures. Maybe I am still feeling what they call “butterflies inside my stomach”, not a broken and bleeding heart.

          I was grateful enough that it happened during the finals of second semester because it means that there will be vacation and I can make use of that to avoid Neil and of course, move on. So, I made use of that vacation to contemplate, rest and recharge and rejuvenate my heart, soul and my peace of mind. Hoping that when I go back to school for another school year, my heart is already healed and that I learned my lesson. Fortunately, by God’s grace I was able to heal my heart and moved on.

          My heart is now happy again. And, I am certain that I already moved on because whenever I see him again. I am no longer hurt nor affected by his presence. As always, I realized maybe it’s not yet my time to have a boyfriend. Maybe I should be focused on pampering myself first with self-love and prioritizing something important which is my studies.

[starsearcher713]

Day Three: Path

And I’m caught up! Here is another adventure from my DnD party where our students got drunk off their asses and decided the best thing to do in such circumstances would be to adventure into the incredibly dangerous Witherbloom swamp. Luckily we met a rude flying cat that totally wasn’t a dragon in disguise that led us down the “path” to some magic fruit!

Here we have Balris mourning the potential loss of his relationship with his boyfriend because he offended him (they never broke up and are our Healthiest Couple TM). Cirrus the dhamphic cleric fairy high as a kite (as usual). All while Rhoda, the clueless but genius wizard, and Iandri, the clueless but buff barbarian, are having a great time fixing their friends relationships.

I’ll admit these are kind of hard for me if only because I’m a huge perfectionist with my art, especially art that I share. But in order to not completely overwhelm myself I have to be okay with releasing “imperfect” art. Letting my work be sketch-y and sloppy and just getting my ideas down on the page. I think it’s a good exercise for me since I’m no longer getting pushed in that way from school. The last thing I want is to get burned out, especially since I have some sick ideas that I’ll need more energy for later on in the month.

[murrays-wardrobe]

Some of My Best Friends Are Rhoda (02x23) Outfit 2

[hitchell-mope]

Oh Rhoda.

[tcm]

A Conversation with Patty McCormack on Growing Up on Screen By Kim Luperi

Not many child stars go on to enjoy long, successful careers in show business – and fewer still have earned a prestigious Academy Award nomination before they turned 18. Patty McCormack has achieved both. The actress, who made her first film appearance in 1951 and went on to star in THE BAD SEED (’56, for which she received an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actress as the murderous Rhoda at age 11); THE ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN (’60) and THE YOUNG RUNAWAYS (’68), continues to work in Hollywood and shows no indication of slowing down.

I had the pleasure of speaking with McCormack recently about some of these titles and more, including the delightful film KATHY O’ ('58) in which she plays a famous child star – an apt springboard for a discussion about growing up on screen and transitioning into more mature roles over her incredibly long, accomplished career.   

(This interview has been edited for length and clarity.)

I was watching KATHY O’ last night, and I really enjoyed it. In that movie they talk about your blonde pigtail braids as a trademark, and I realized it kind of was; you had that hairstyle in THE BAD SEED and ALL MINE TO GIVE (’57), too. Do you know how that style came about, or was it something you did that caught on?

Patty McCormack: It seems to be! I believe I even had them early on in Mama, which was an old live TV show that was a weekly event. I don't know how that [trademark] happened. I think it just happened because of THE BAD SEED – I think it was the hairdo that I went in with or they just decided on. When you see the original artwork on William March’s book, there’s a very long face drawing of Rhoda, his Rhoda, and there were braids in it. I don't know if they were looped or what, but that could have been it – or I honestly don't remember if it was chosen by my mom because it was easy, but it stuck!

I loved KATHY O’ because I got to live the dream. I loved the notion of them cutting my hair off – except it was a wig that they cut. After a while it felt like I didn't want to look like an older person with braids – you have to get rid of them eventually. As soon as I could, I wanted hair that was like, in that era, a page boy or something like that, where it landed on your shoulder. But I carried that long hair for a long time. And then you know how you revert back to certain hairdos years later? 

They come back in style.

PM: Yes, they come back, but now I have shortish hair, and I'm growing it one length. So I got over the braids – just in the nick of time!

Circling back to Rhoda, you originated the role on Broadway before the film version, so you obviously had a lot of practice and familiarity with the part before you took it to the screen. Since she's such a chilling character, how did you get into that mindset at age nine, especially when you had to play the part multiple times a week?

PM: I always go back to the source, and the source was the director, Reginald Denham. He was so good with directing me. He made it fun, because I learned when I'd get an audience reaction on a face I’d make or something, I'd look forward to doing that again – you know, that kind of joy.

He made it so clear and simple, and his point of view was that Rhoda was always right. I know I've said this before, but it's the truth. No matter what anybody says, Rhoda is correct, and anything she wants, she feels entitled to – not using that word ‘entitled’ – but I really wasn't thinking of myself as a bad person, or especially not a murderer. I just thought it was their fault, which is classic, I guess. I had to kill him [the little boy] because he was so mean. So I think that was how I learned to be that character. I was aware of the murders – people were dead because of me, that I knew – but somehow it wasn't disturbing to my mind. If you take a look at it knowing that, you see it. I'm not coming from some sort of evil place, I don't think.

You were nominated for an Oscar for THE BAD SEED, which is amazing; it's a true testament to your talents, of course, but it’s also such a big accolade to have at such a young age. Do you remember there being any pressure on you for your next role?

PM: Well, the role was so odd for a kid to be so noticed, in that era anyway. I can't think of any jobs I didn't get after that that somebody else got, you know? What happened, though, was that each year I grew, and so I just experienced the typical kid actor dilemma which is going from category to category and establishing yourself in that category and learning how to be in that category. I did do something on Playhouse 90 – I did a few PLAYHOUSE 90s back then – and I did a lot of television –

You played Helen Keller [in the original 1957 Playhouse 90 teleplay “The Miracle Worker”].

PM: That's what I was going to say! That was after THE BAD SEED. But mostly, as far as movies went, there was KATHY O’ and a few here and there and at different levels of development. I was always aware that it had been a while since I worked, that I felt, but I didn't think business, like “What will I follow up that with?” I didn't have that kind of mentality, and I really don't think my mother did either, so it just sort of went the way it went.

As you mentioned too, you were still growing up. So, you’re a child, then a teenager, then young adult. You probably wouldn’t be thinking about the business part of it. 

PM: No, it's so strange. It's not an easy transition, and as you know famous people go through really hard things. You don't get to sit and relax in a certain mode for too long because before you know it you're in the next one. And then you go through your ‘ugly period’ in front of everybody, which is horrible.

The movie that you mentioned TCM is going to air, THE ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN, when I see the headshots from that I just think, “Aw, I looked uncomfortable!” I could see it even in my body. I felt like I was at the awkward time – you know, part of me was getting bigger, developing – and that hairdo they gave me didn't help; it was still the braids but wrapped up.

I want to ask you about that transition. Did you find anything difficult or surprising about navigating Hollywood and growing up on screen? 

PM: The most difficult part, honestly, as a person growing up – I think at the time I always say Sandra Dee was the person we all looked to. She was just so beautiful, and no one else looked like that – maybe Carol Lynley a little bit – but the bar was set very high. With that, you’re insecure anyways because you’re at that age, and more than anything you don't want to be different. I think that's true for a lot of kids. So the maturing, that part of development, was difficult when I look back. You don't have the confidence that you had as a little kid when you don't think about anything. You become all self-conscious about how you look, if you're thin enough, if you’re pretty enough, if your hair looks nice. It's a little bit of an adjustment to get through all that and go back to what you like to do, which is to pretend, and take the focus off what you look like or who you look like or any of that stuff. I don't know if other kid actors had the same experience, but usually people grow out of a look that made them known – most of us anyway, not all of us. 

I know when you left Hollywood you went back to Brooklyn and finished high school there. What was that experience like for you?

PM: Well, I took my real name back, and I was going to the high school that my mother and older sister went to, so I was really excited. This is going to sound so weird, but it was almost like playing a part – I was playing the part of a high school student. My real name is Russo, so I was Patty Russo. The experience was really kind of shocking, because I think they expected me to be very conceited, and so I had to hide in the cafeteria in the early days, because it was Brooklyn and they were pretty tough – they were on me! But I made a best friend who helped me navigate through it, and it turned into a nice experience finally. I was glad to have had that.

Then I came back out here [Los Angeles], and I stayed with a friend of my mother's family for a while. I wound up leaving Utrecht [her Brooklyn high school] – it’s a long story – but I did a soap opera in between while I was going to Utrecht, and that was kind of tricky because they weren't flexible like California was. In California they were used to kid actors, and in New York at that time, they really weren't. Then when I came out here, I went back to finish high school at Hollywood Professional and got my diploma that way. But I'm so glad I got to go back to Brooklyn. I'm pleased about that.

It sounds like you had a pretty grounded childhood, especially in attending a regular high school. Do you think that helped how you adjusted when you returned to the film industry?

PM: It was a little bit too grounded, I think! I came from a really good family. I never thought that I was a big deal, and they [her mom and dad] made sure of that. So, coming back to the industry after, I really didn't know the ropes. People handled all that before – the only thing I knew was what I did, and so some things maybe didn't get handled so well, but I learned on my feet when I came back out here. Then I married my childhood boyfriend and we had our children, and I kept working.

Yes, you’ve worked steadily since then.

PM: I did work a lot! It’s true. Nothing on the level of nominations, but I was a journeyman, I like to say.

You've spent six decades in the industry, which is really astounding, especially since you started as a child. I read an interview from 1974 that featured a humorous quote from you that I’d like to share. You said that you lamented that you never got the guy in movies and just once you wanted to “kiss the guys instead of kill them.”

PM: That is funny!

But throughout your career, you played Helen Keller, you played a career woman in THE BEST OF EVERYTHING (’70), you played Pat Nixon more recently in FROST/NIXON (’08), so you've had a lot of experience with different characters. Was there any genre or any type of character that you wish you could explore further?

PM: Well, I'll tell you the truth, it's actually seven decades from when I started, although if you want to make me younger, I don't mind! At this point in time, I'm so grateful when I work, because there could be nothing now, you know? I do enjoy what comes along. The only thing I never got to do, which I would have loved, was to have been in a habit – I would have loved to have played a nun in a habit.

That’s interesting.

PM: Isn’t it? It’s the Catholic school thing.

We’ll have to find you a role like that!

PM: I know, wouldn't that be fun? And it would be a nice way, in your later years, to go from a killer to a nun, you know? I think it would be a good idea.

Going in the right direction!

PM: Yes! But anyways, little things change here and there, and I sometimes do voiceovers, and I did something recently that I had never done, which was so much fun. Did you notice on Netflix a show called ARSENE LUPIN [working title for LUPIN]?

I haven’t heard of it, but I know there’s an old movie with the same name.

PM: Yes, this is a remake. It's in French, and I dubbed a French woman into English, and it was so much fun to do, to have someone else's face up there. I know some people watch foreign movies and they say, “Oh it's so unfair to dub the other actors,” and I probably wouldn't love it if somebody dubbed me either, but I had such a ball doing it. So, if you catch that show, you'll see somewhere in there I'm speaking English for a French woman.  

I wanted to talk about two of your more recent roles. I know you starred in MOMMY in the 1990s, kind of a grown-up Rhoda, and you played a psychiatrist in the Lifetime remake of THE BAD SEED in 2018. This story has been filmed a few times; what do you think resonates with people, and how did it feel going back to that character and story but from different perspectives?

PM: Right. Well, to be honest, the Rob Lowe production [for Lifetime] was really a totally different story. There was no mom – he was the mom character – so the writing was really different.

There were two MOMMY movies: MOMMY (’95) and MOMMY’S DAY (’97). Those were written by a writer who lives in Muscatine, Iowa: Max Allan Collins. This is a long time ago now, but it was fun to grow her up, you know, physically. I talked to you about how that is the strange thing about transitioning, and it was so enjoyable to do that. It really was a journey for me internally.

There was also something about shaking hands with that, because in my day, it was never a good thing to have something so long ago be talked about all the time. I got that impression by other people's opinions, not my own, and as time went on, the world changed and people started knowing actors’ work from 20 years ago. So, the appreciation for that old work came back, and I learned to feel good about it through other people's feelings about it. I do have such a different perspective on it now, and it's a character that was so special. That really changed my ability as to how I could hold it [the role].

It’s nice to be able to do that.

PM: Yes, it is. 

I have one more question for you. I know we’re in a pandemic and many productions are halted, but do you have any upcoming appearances that I can share with fans to look out for? 

PM: Aw, I wish! It's funny, I did some Hallmark Christmas movies. Well, I did one, and then last year I was supposed to do another one, and they cut our parts because of COVID. So, I'm rooting for [the next one], and I have a good feeling, you know, when we have our vaccinations. Also, a downside was that they shoot in Canada, and they have to bring you up there, and at that time you had to stay in 14 days.

A lot of rules!

PM: Yes, a lot of rules. So hopefully there will be a new one. I can't honestly say, but there's no reason there shouldn't be!

My dad loves the Hallmark Christmas movies, and I watch a lot of them because of him, so I'll be rooting for you and looking out for you!

PM: I know, there's so many. People have blankets and all these things! There are real hard-core fans – it's amazing.

[thefantasygirl3]

Alright. Time for some Negaverse headcanons.

Yeah. First time I do one of these, but I have a lot of ideas for these guys. These headcanons are based on my fics, so read them if ya want more context.

Megavolt:

Megavolt considers himself the leader of the group, as the more confident and vocal member as well as the first member. But he doesn't think himself more important than any of the others just because of that.

Along with this, he's also the most aggressive of the four. Though not unreasonably so, unless he gets pissed.

Megavolt is very snarky and witty, enjoying to come up with metaphors for their intro and weird nicknames for people, whether for his friends or a villain. Him and Quackerjack compete to see who comes up with the best nicknames.

He has a terrible sense of style and fashion. His clothes are usually very gaudy and tacky when he wants to dress up and he's not wearing his plain dress shirts and hoodies. Everyone hates it.

He works part-time at a mechanic job.

He's gay and had a crush on Drake Mallard in highschool, until the last year.

Quackerjack:

The duck is not as hateful towards video games as his alternate self, but he doesn't really like them though. He is fine with casual/kid friendly games, but doesn't like games with action or horror.

Boy definitely has some sort of autism and stims quite often. Everyone are fine with this and sometimes even find it kinda cute when he gets excited.

He leaves Mr. Banana Brain with Gosalyn very frequently, saying that he can watch her while he's gone. He believes Banana Brain is very trustworthy. The other's do not.

Him and Megavolt have a friendly rivalry going on, having been together as a duo for the longest time until Bushroot joined. They love teasing and challenging eachother.

Quackerjack works as Toy safety quality control.

Boy is Bi and used to have a girlfriend, but they mutually broke up.

Bushroot:

Although he is a nice, sweet, polite person, he is more snappy and sassy than you're lead to believe. He can get pretty nasty towards his enemies. This includes rude, bragging soccer moms.

He takes on the role of emotional support for the rest of the team a lot, being the most responsible and understanding as a parent. He's basically the Team Mom™

Although he is a straight man, he has a fear of female attraction. Any time a woman shows romantic interest, he freaks out as it reminds him of when Rhoda tried to manipulate him.

Bushroot, despite not wearing clothes a lot of the time at home, loves to dress up when he goes out. He has to do it either way, so why not have fun with it?

He has a greenhouse in the backyard that he and Gosalyn take care of together, as a papa-daughter project. She loves hearing what the flowers have to say.

Bushroot is a stay-at-home dad and the best cook.

Liquiador:

Despite being my least favourite out of the original group, he was the one I had the most ideas for.

Liquiador suffers PTSD from becoming a water mutant and sometimes feels like his real self is dead and that he's a monster. The rest of them assure him he's still the same guy, mutant or not.

The other guys refer to eachother very differently, but all of them call Liquidator by his real name, to make sure he knows he's still himself.

He's kind of a crybaby and frequently cries whenever he's stressed, scared or just sad. But despite this, he tries to be headstrong and calm when in front of his daughter and others outside the house.

He works as a freelance advert designer from home.

He's Ace and has no interest in any romance.

Link to the Fanfics out (So far):

Megavolt backstory

Quackerjack backstory

Bushroot backstory

Liquiador backstory

You're gonna have a bed time

[spndystopiabang]

SPN Dystopia Bang 2020 Master List

The bang is over for 2020, but here are all the amazing stories and pieces of art that were created for this year.

Please do pay attention to tags and warnings below and when you click through. Also, please remember this is a multishipping friendly bang, and so the stories here are across a range of Supernatural ships.

You can also find all stories in this year's bang over on our AO3 Collection.

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Title: Bite The Hand That Feeds Author: hit_the_books Artist: Anyrei Rating: Explicit Ships: Castiel/Sam (Sastiel) Expected word count: 20k Major warnings and tags: Graphic depictions of violence Summary:

Two centuries ago, a great cataclysm hit the Earth. Monsters poured forth from a tear in reality, and the insidious energy from this rift turned much of the Earth into wasteland. Humans now survive in a handful of guarded megacities, like New Lawrence, while some live out in the wastes.

But what if there was a way to finally close the rift for good and save the Earth?

That’s what Castiel hopes when he happens upon Sam Winchester, a powerful psy—a human mutated by the energies of the rift.

Yet other psys have different plans. The cult of Azazel sees a newer, deadly future for the tear in the world and the rest of humanity.

Banding together with Sam’s brother Dean, Castiel and Sam set forth to heal   the world once and for all, along with some help from old friends.

The Plan? Survive. Save the world. Fall in love. Link to story Link to art -

Title: I’m All Yours My Love Author: DWImpala67 Artist: EmmaTheSlayer Rating:  Mature Length: 33121 Pairings: Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles Warnings: No Major Archives warning Apply Summary:

They live in a world where a love marriage was a taboo and more so for male carriers. Jared is one of them. His father has arranged for his marriage with Jensen Ackles, whom he doesn’t know from Adam. Unfortunately for him, he falls in love with another man. He’s happy and they keep it under wraps until they can seek Jared’s parents’ permission. But, his secret is exposed and his guy is sent packing and Jared is married off to Jensen Ackles forcefully to honor his family name. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to forget his first love and move on.

Jensen Ackles was a romantic. He always believed his married life would be one full of love and belonging, of togetherness. He took one look at his husband and fell hard and fast for him. His husband is the single most treasured and important person to him in the entire world. He’ll do  anything to make his husband happy. But what he gets instead is a husband who’s given his heart away already. So, Jensen decides to help his husband find his true love. Only, Jared has other ideas… Will Jared get his happily ever after? Or will they both find something to soothe their battered soul?

Link to fic: Archive Of Our Own Link to art: LiveJournal - Title: A Town Called Rhoda Author: smalltrolven Artist: MidnightSilver Rating: Explicit Length: 24,937 Pairings: Sam/Dean, (Dean/Original Binary Character) Warnings: Brief mentions of past torture, enslavement. Summary:

It’s the end of the world, and Dean believes Sam is gone along with the rest  of San Francisco. When the nukes began to fall they were separated by hundreds of miles, and now there’s no point. He tries his hardest to move on, living in a small town in the redwood forest of Northern California. This is the story of what happens when Sam eventually shows up after enduring an epic journey just to reach Dean.

Link to fic: LJ or AO3

Link to art: AO3 -

Title: Brother Take My Hand Author: MidnightSilver Artist: MissJenniferB Rating: Explicit Length: 40K Pairings: Sam/Dean Warnings: sentient animal sex (Sam and Dean are wolves), Sam is 17 at the start of the fic, attempted non con, Magical roofies, minor character death, canon level gore and violence (please read tags) Summary: All Sam has ever known is Yellow Eyes’ rule and life within the Pack, but he is sure there has to be more.

The young wolf questions everything he’s been taught. Why is he the only one fascinated by old ruins? Is human nature really so evil that it justifies using other creatures as slaves? And why can no one else see the benefits of using hands?

Dean loves Sam but he doesn’t have any answers. In fact he wishes Sam didn’t have so many questions.

On the summer equinox fate will force Sam to make some choices and Yellow Eyes is already showing far too much interest in him. So what will the young wolf do when he has to choose between the Pack and his conscience?

Link to Fic

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Title: The Sounds of Hope Shall Never Fade Author: Hannah-deserved-better (Hannah_girl) Artist: Duck (majesticduxk) Rating: Mature Length: 14,215 Pairings: Hanstiel Squared (Castiel/Hannah/Castiel’s female vessel/Hannah’s male vessel) Warnings:  Abuse, torture, medical experimentation, attempted artificial   insemination, captivity, pregnancy, emotional trauma, psychological trauma, Evil!Sam, Evil!Dean, major character death (sort of) Summary: Castiel and Hannah fall into an alternate reality where they encounter their counterparts in this world. Castielle (Castiel’s female vessel) and Hana (Hannah’s male vessel) have endured decades of torment at the hands of these humans. Castiel and Hannah meet Sam and Dean, but these aren't the Sam and Dean they know. They are a twisted, cruel, uncaring version of their real-world counterparts and they see the angels and their powerhouse supply of angel grace as commodities. The Angels power their underground world after a comet strike destroyed life on the surface. Now, this small underground civilization, one of many all over the world, has running water, food, power, and other necessities all powered by angel grace. Sam and Dean will do whatever it takes to hold onto their four precious powerhouses, and have long since given up on caring about the comfort of their angelic captives. Castiel, Hannah, and their counterparts must endure endless medical experiments, painful grace extractions, and deplorable living conditions, and somehow they must find a way to survive because the future of heaven may hang in the balance.

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Title: When Worlds Collide Author: LilyAnson Artist: AnyRei Rating: General Length: 18500 Pairings: Mick Davies/Arthur Ketch, Matt Anderson/Hilary BeckerWarnings: No warnings really apply Summary:

Ketch is halfway across the country when the Croatoan virus break out. Worried about his boyfriend he races as fast as he can to find out if Mick is still alive or not. Upon arrival he finds something new. A strange, floating object, seemly made out of what appeared to be glass shards hovered nearby.

Matt is a traveler from the future bent and determined to save his world. If that means he has to use the people around him, so be it. That is, until he falls for one of his fellow teammates. Now he must decide whether or not saving the potential future is worth losing the one person he's ever loved.

Otherwise known as what happens when dinosaurs and the supernatural meet.

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Title: Fabulous Monsters Author: ellispark Artist: nickel Rating: Mature Length: 10k Pairings: Dean/Castiel Warnings: Canon-typical violence, references to torture and brainwashing, references to war crimes Summary:

It’s been a year since Dean last saw Castiel — a year since he was captured and reprogrammed by the angels, trained to be a torturer. When Charlie escapes the angels, she tells him Cas can still be saved.

Dean rushes to Cas’s rescue, unsure of what he’ll find. Will Cas be the loyal friend he lost, or the emotionless killer the angels turned him into?

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Title: WEDLOCKED Author: spnsmile Artist: oddsocksandstuff Rating: Explicit Length: 50k+ Pairings: Castiel/ Dean Winchester Warnings:  Noncon, graphic violence, torture... Summary:

Dean Winchester, the leader of the Southern Resistance, makes a decision to stay in the capital keeping his brother alive, meeting his new husband with a promise to never break.

Castiel Novak, a Skywalker, has just returned to Discordia from his trip to outer space. Trained by the best Capacitors from VOLTS, the paramilitary officers, he finds himself with a new mission— to connect with a rebel and transform him into a submissive member of the society.

Can Castiel convince Dean to stay by his side? Or will he turn against the society threatening Dean?

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Title: Feathers On My Breath Author: navajolovesdestiel Artist: kuwlshadow Rating: Explicit Pairing: Dean/Castiel Warnings: Drug use Summary: The world following the apocalypse was a very different place than before. After Sam said yes to Lucifer, after he and Michael had fought the final battle, the angels won. They retreated to heaven after locking Lucifer away again, sealing heaven.

There were a few angels who were left behind, trapped forever on earth. Some humans had survived. They lived in small groups, foraging for food, medicine, necessities. But human beings are resilient. They prospered, grew in numbers as babies were born.

One thing they all had in common was their hatred of angels. If they ever trapped one it was swiftly put to death, or worse.

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Title: Fields of Freja Author: Emblue_Sparks and tfw_cas (punk-is-notdead) Artist: shealynn88 Rating: Explicit Length: 65k+ Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester (Past Dean/Benny, Claire/Kaia, Sam/Eileen) Warnings: MCD (Dean only), Graphic Violence, Juvenile Soldiers, Juvenile Deaths Summary:

Bolivian-born Dean Winchester is a seasoned soldier, having served courageously in the rebellion against an immortal and tyrannical visionary. Yet his greatest fight begins the day his life ends. Dean awakens to a beautifully winged, albeit sardonic man, claiming him for Valhalla. Only problem: Like Helheim is he going. Not until Sam's safe from the Bright One in New Lebanon, tech beacon of the broken world, resting within the arctic circle.

As the only male Valkyrie in existence, Castiel Sigurd is an outcast tasked with purpose, yet denied companionship. Called to claim the only soldier to refuse the honor of Valhalla, intrigue paints his otherwise colorless eternity. Castiel journeys with Dean to find Sam, who's been lost to the winds for years. With nothing but a clue-filled journal and an oath to ascend upon 'mission accomplished,' Dean embarks on this last harrowing quest, experiencing adventure beyond his wildest fantasy and heart's desire along the way.

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Check out the SPN Dystopia Bang 2020 AO3 collection here!

[girldragongizzard]

Chapter 19: All the little Megnitudes

“I think, maybe, I just don’t understand what is physics anymore,” Kimberly says to Chapman, who is working hir way down the impromptu potluck buffet ahead of her, picking up vegetables and crackers to add to hir plate.

“What do you mean?” Chapman asks.

“Well, as Meg explained,” Kimberly says, apparently too distracted to put anything on her plate as she follows Chapman. “How the big dragon go in the small man then go in the smaller stomach of the monster thing, when the conservation of mass and energy? And for that matter, how the Meg fit in the princess? That’s not physics, is it? And yet there’s the pendant you made. Is it like hypercube shit?”

“No, there are no hypercubes involved,” Chapman says.

“But how?”

Chapman stops and gives her an even appraisal out of the corner of hir eye, and then asks, “How much of your life would you like to dedicate to exploring the explanation to all that?”

Kim, behind Kimberly, says, “Please, you two, don’t hold up the line.”

It’s late. Around 11:00 pm. And we’re all in the coffee shop, which has been converted once again to a meeting place for us, courtesy of Bri and Miriam.

It took a while for everyone to gather food from their fridges, prepare it to some degree, and bring it over. Several of us had wanted pizza, but all the pizza places were closed. And still are. They closed about mid afternoon, when it became clear that there was a huge city wide dragon fight going on, and people needed to figure out relatively safe places to be.

While that was going on, I’d been given access to my second-hand computer in the back, so that I could write up what I remember happening. That way everyone could read it and be informed, and I wouldn’t have to try to explain it with my utterly demolished tablet, or my inadequate personal vocabulary.

Most of my friends read it on their phones while cooking, or while riding on their way back downtown. And when everyone had finally arrived, Rhoda had played it for the rest on her phone using the same text to speech voice I use.

And I also just uploaded it to my blog, as is, along with all of my speculations as to what Säure might have been thinking and feeling as it had all gone down.

Ptarmigan is here, looking extremely worse for wear, but Wentin is not. My draconic best friends are outside, again. And their humans have joined us, as is now usual. Even Gary is here.

It’s actually maybe way too much for me, after today, but at least I’ve eaten a handful of celebratory steaks provided by Nathan. They’re petite sirloins he’d been saving for himself, but insisted that I should have.

And right now, I’m in my old corner, where I used to sit before my dracomorphosis, curled up beside my old favorite chair, which is now occupied by Rhoda.

And I’ve got a bowl of steaming hot Sky Between the Branches tea, and I’m focused on the sensations of letting that steam curl around my tongue and bringing it in to my Jacobson’s organ. It fills my head with visions of the deepest, most rotten woods I’ve ever visited. Which maybe would remind me of Wentin, except that I’ve actually spent more time in the woods with my parents than with it.

So I’m thinking of family.

I think I really do want to figure out how to go down and visit them, respectfully of the other dragons down there in Seattle, and let them and my sister know who I really am.

Everyone else here is talking to each other in small groups about how they survived the day, or participated in my plan, and filling in each other's gaps. Or, they’re speculating about how things are going to play out legally and politically from here.

I did manage to leave the park of ball fields before Säure’s helicopter did, indeed, deliver a fucking car. But I’d watched from a hiding place as they placed it in the middle of the park. It was an outright replacement of the vehicle that Joel, Anurak, and Wentin had destroyed.

There was no Säure to retrieve it, after the helicopter left, and I just turned and flew away myself.

It might still be there right now.

With Säure having called my name, I’m pretty sure everyone in the city knows I was involved in today’s events, but maybe not how.

If Rhoda’s no-bullshit field still extends to me, the fallout might be pretty light, actually. But nobody knows exactly what it’ll prevent.

Before she went to get her own food, Ptarmigan came up to me and put a hand on my back and said, “Whatever you’re thinking. Whatever you are worried about. Do not talk to the police. Ever. Never.”

So, I’m thinking a little bit about that, too. I’m a little baffled that she thought to say that right when I was considering whether or not to answer their questions should they come looking for me. And I really don’t know if I’ll follow her advice. But I feel like I should.

Right now, though, I really don’t feel like talking to anybody.

I want to make sure that my people are OK and safe, which is why I’m even here. But I think I’m actually feeling shaky, not physically but mentally, and maybe I should find some place quiet to be instead.

But I also don’t want to be alone. I need Rhoda near me, and maybe Chapman.

What I should do, at some point, is go out and be with the dragons who are visiting my territory. Astraia, Anurak, and Joel deserve my acknowledgement at the very least, and I should figure out how it is that we dragons can actually socialize with each other.

I know that those three have developed an understanding between each other that I’m not actually a part of, that I don’t get. I’m not even sure how and when it formed. But I appreciate it. It reassures me.

Seeing the partial silhouettes of them, occluded by the reflections in the windows, lounging out on the street corner together under the streetlight, studiously ignoring any passing car together, reminds me of watching children clamber all over Joel in his park. It’s a welcome new normal, even if it isn’t mine.

But, after today, I’m uncertain of just about everything. At least at the moment.

I watched a person die.

Someone I’ve repeatedly visualized killing myself, over and over.

And I’m old enough, I’ve lived amongst humans long enough, that I’ve heard all of the arguments for and against the death of a person like him, whether he was human or not. And my own personal feeling is that it doesn’t matter that he wasn’t a human.

Ultimately, we all die. Even if we’re immortal, it seems. The Artists all love to say they maybe die more often than humans do. And we don’t really know about dragons, but we suspect we’re like the Artists that way. Maybe humans are too, actually. Reincarnation is a thing some of them dream about. I’ve been over that before. But it was going to happen to Säure sooner or later, anyway, and I wasn’t the one to make it happen. 

And now I can’t be. Wentin stole that from me. Or saved me from doing it.

More importantly, I think Wentin saved me from walking into Säure’s trap.

No matter how hard I tried – no matter how impervious to his attacks I seemed to be – no matter how much help I had from my community to face him – I was just so underpowered in the face of his shadow.

All I could really ever do was scream loud enough to distract him, and flee when he came for me.

And I’m not even sure why I was capable of doing even that much.

It makes me feel small and weak. Smaller than a human, at the moment, though I’m pretty sure that’s my C-PTSD exaggerating things.

Despite the physical contact of Rhoda lazily scratching and stroking the top of my skull, I simultaneously feel less and less like I’m able to move while having the intense urge to turn and run up the wall to get away from everything.

Ptarmigan puts down her plate, leaning over in her chair to look closer at me and says, “Hey.”

I don’t think I even twitch to look at her better.

“Hey, Meghan,” she says softly in her deep baritone, and gets up to come over to me.

Rhoda responds by putting her palm flat on my head, in a protective feeling gesture, and frowns, but doesn’t say or do anything else.

“Meghan,” Ptarmigan says again, and the room quiets down as everyone notices this exchange happening. “Meghan. You’re going to have one hell of a nightmare tonight. And it’s probably going to haunt you for a while. But it won’t be Wentin, Meghan. Remember that. It won’t be Wentin. It’ll just be you and your brain. Got it?”

I manage to raise my head under Rhoda’s hand to look Ptarmigan right in the eyes. It would transfix us if she were human, and lock us in a challenge if we were dragons. But she just smiles.

“What do you want, Ptarmigan?” Rhoda asks.

Ptarmigan points at me while looking at her, and says, “Meghan’s in shock. I don’t think it’s bad enough to kill her or make her very sick, though you should watch her for sure, and maybe give her some heat and fluids. But today was ultratraumatic for her, and I’m just reassuring her. Wentin is out of the picture now. At least, for the foreseeable future. It left.”

“I don’t understand what you’re getting at,” Rhoda tells her.

So Ptarmigan stands up and looks down at her with furrowed brows, “Maybe try hearing my words without putting subtext into them. What I want is irrelevant here. I’m helping Meghan. I’m telling you how to help her some more. And now I’m walking away. And that’s all that needs to happen between us. But maybe give Chapman more charity than that.”

And then Ptarmigan turns and walks away, past her chair and food, around and through the others, and out the door into the night.

I turn my head to look more clearly at Rhoda with my left eye, and I see her watching Chapman, who’s visible in my right eye.

After watching Ptarmigan go, Chapman’s resumed talking intensely with Kimberly, and when I pay attention to their words I find out they’re discussing shapeshifting in more detail, with mention of what sounds like definitive plans.

“Mm,” I hear Rhoda vocalize.

“Hey,” Cerce says, having come over with Jill in tow. “We were just looking up how to treat a lizard that’s in shock, and I don’t know if any of it is right for you. But heat really is like one of the biggest things. We can turn up the thermostat, and you really should drink your tea while it’s still warm.”

“Are you doing OK, Meg?” Jill asks.

Rhoda looks down at me and says, “She does feel colder than usual.”

“Yeah, I’ll take care of that thermostat,” Cerce says and turns to go and do that.

“What can I do?” Jill asks, looking at me first, then Rhoda.

“If you can get Chapman to come over here for me, that would be good,” Rhoda says in a low and very controlled voice. “Tell hir what’s up.”

I am just too tired for this, so I put my head back down.

I do notice that everyone else is starting to watch me more closely, glancing my way during their conversations or between bites of food. And Nathan gets up from where he’s at to come over and sit more closely, but he doesn’t say anything.

Then Chapman does come over with Jill behind hir, and kneels down beside my head and holds hir hand out. But sie asks Rhoda, “May I?” 

Rhoda just nods.

Then Chapman asks me, “Meg, can I scan you, please?”

I slowly close my eyes in an affirmative. 

And sie nods and puts hir wrists together, and I feel that shift.

Chapman stands up quickly and turns to the rest of the cafe to ask, “Does anybody have any dry erase markers? I’ll take a sharpie if you don’t, but I need them right now.”

Kim drops her food onto a table to get up and run to the front counter.

I think I fall asleep at that point.

—

Ptarmigan was right, it’s not Wentin.

It turns out that Säure really does still exist, and he’s on the moon with me, chasing me and terrorizing the moon dragons.

Always, at night, in my head, and when I’m awake, too. He’s become an indelible part of my story and I can’t get him out.

He can never catch me in my nightmares, because I’ve been trained too well.

But he doesn’t have to.

Because I have him.

—

When I awaken, I’m in the same spot I last remember being. Because, of course, no one who can fit in the cafe is strong enough to move me.

Rhoda is still in the chair, and Chapman is sitting talking to her. I can sense this even before I open my eyes.

“What do your other tattoos do?” Rhoda is asking, to my left, above me.

To my right and in front of me comes Chapman’s maple syrup voice, at about the height it would be if sie was sitting, “A lot of emergency stuff that rarely comes up.” I hear hir chair scrape briefly against the floor, and feel it through the floor, too. “This one, for instance,” I imagine hir lifting up the side of hir shirt. “If I touch an activator to it, it will give my body the kind of electric shock needed to restart my stalled heart.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“When I’m not having a heart attack? It is.”

“Why did you show that one to me?”

“Trust.”

Rhoda grunts.

“You’re probably right not to trust Artists, Rhoda,” Chapman says. “You weren’t too far wrong, any time you’ve criticized us, or warned Meghan about what we are. At least, the times you did so in front of me. We play at being mortal when we take our physical bodies, but we can’t really understand it. If we have no other memories, we at least always remember what we are. And that informs everything we do.”

“Then why are you convincing me to trust you?” she asks.

“I’m not. I’m putting my trust in you, Rhoda. Like it or not, you’re an anomaly, and a really powerful one,” Chapman explains. “I expect you’ll be as fleeting as any other human, but while you’re here you’ll change everything around you. You already are. And that’s going to draw more attention.”

“I do not like the sound of that. I do not want attention.”

“Right,” Chapman says. “So, I want to teach you how to avoid it. I want to show you what you can do to fend off Artists you don’t want to have anything to do with, starting with myself. And if you do it right, you might not even have to think about it much.”

“Hm,” she grunts.

And then there’s a knock at the door. One made by a large, confident fist, but not urgent.

I lift my head and open my eyes to see that we’re the only three in the cafe with darkened lights. Everyone else has left. 

And through the windows, I can see a huge, dark form of something with wings and horns hunched over just outside the door.

Chapman is glancing that way, too.

But Rhoda lays a hand on the top of my head and says, “Hey, Meghan. How are you feeling?”

“I’ll get the door,” Chapman says. “It’s the Poet.”

“Fenmere?” Rhoda asks.

“Yep,” Chapman confirms.

“The Worm.”

“Yeah. That’s… that’s kind of her thing, she’ll have to explain if you want to know.”

“Not sure I do.”

“I’ll leave it up to you, but we really should talk to her and debrief each other.”

“Fine.”

Chapman gets up to go open the door.

“Bri left me with the key,” Rhoda says to me. “I get to lock up when we’re done here. Which we should be, now that you’re awake.”

I don’t feel like talking yet, so I slow blink at her and let out a low infrasonic rumble. And I look at myself and see dry erase temporary tattoos of weird circuitry all over the back of my torso, between my wings.

I do feel warmer and more energized than before.

I wonder if this is really why Rhoda is even talking to Chapman right now. But, am I that important to her? She really does have her own thing she needs to figure out, too, and it seemed like they were talking about that, mostly.

Whatever. I remember that Chapman and I have time that maybe Rhoda doesn’t have. I know where my priorities lie currently, if Rhoda continues to reject Chapman. And I know Chapman would agree. Sie’s told me as much.

I give a big sigh as I watch the Poet squeeze through the door in what should be an impossible way. She’s way too big for it.

“But I guess we’ve got another guest,” Rhoda says.

And with a voice that sounds to me like an electric sander being applied to an oak desk, but with a distinctly feminine lisp, Fenmere tells Chapman, “Thank you for helping me put that fool to rest, dear Physicist. I owe a debt of gratitude to Meghan and Wentin as well. I’ve been watching that family carve up and devour the county for over a hundred years now, and I can’t bear to see the likes of him in control of what they’ve seized.”

“Well, come all the way on in, Fen, and tell Meghan that yourself,” Chapman says. “She’s right over here.”

Rhoda lets out a big, long sigh.

Fenmere walks kind of like a gorilla, with big, strong, powerful arms on brachiating shoulders, but fat saurian rear legs. Her bat-like wings are set right where a human’s shoulder blades would be, between her arms’ shoulders and her spine. It’s an anatomy that makes absolutely no sense, and would probably be useless for flying, but they are fairly big wings anyway. And we dragons really don’t always make any sort of biological sense.

Her hide looks like a fine moss, and she has belly scales like mine that are the color of bleached wood. Where her skin shows, such as her wings, it looks like algae stretched out over the surface of water. 

Her head looks like an evenly applied morph between that of an alligator and a horse, but with two tusks jutting up in front of her huge nostrils with an impressive underbite. And she has tufts of white, Spanish moss textured hair at the end of her chin and the tip of her tail, and as a big glorious shaggy mullet crowning her head. Two long, thin horns, straighter than mine jut out from the back of her skull.

And she has the ability to talk without opening her mouth any significant amount.

“Meghan,” she says in that voice.

Rhoda and I were told that Artists could be any type of animal, including dragons, but for some reason I’d thought that Fenmere’s cartoon caricature of herself wasn’t an actual self portrait. But, apparently, it is.

Fenmere settles down on her haunches before me, and I lift my head to acknowledge her. Her thighs do That Thing. They’re so round. And she barely fits between the tables of the coffee shop. I suspect she’s bending space somehow, honestly.

I can’t begin to imagine how that’s a power of being the Poet. But I’ve now seen some dragons do some pretty amazingly weird things.

“I’ve been reading your blog,” she says. “I’m a big fan, and as a fellow dragon I’ve found your experiences fascinating.”

I want to ask her so many questions, beginning with how long she’s had this form of a dragon. But I don’t have my tablet anymore, and I don’t have the vocabulary to do so. So, I just slowly bow my head and bring it back up in acknowledgement.

“However, I have to ask,” she tilts her head a little to the side. “I know you can’t explain it now. But maybe please do write about it in your next post. You’ve invented a delightful word but failed to elaborate.” She rests her foreclaws on her knees and leans forward a little, furrowing a brow that’s nearly as expressive as a human’s. “Can you please tell me what a Megnitude is?”