#still not none and i doubt it ever will be (without physical transition)

[piracyandpumpturns]

every day i ask myself “am i genderqueer or do i simply not percieve gender in relation to myself”

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

Tally Marks

Based on this post which I would highly recommend looking at first because I will not be providing you the context

Word Count: 1850

Rating: Teen (for exactly 1 innuendo)

Pairing: none

Warning: none

~~~START~~~

As the logical Side, Logan was, well, logical.

That being said, he was really not sure what the logical explanation for this would be.

For months now — perhaps even years — tally marks had been appearing in Logan’s hands, arms, and sometimes even his face. Due to the manner in which the tally marks appear, Logan was pretty sure he was the one making them, but he couldn’t remember ever doing it. It reminded him of the Silence in Doctor Who, but the Silence weren’t real — and even if they were, he certainly wouldn’t be encountering them inside Thomas’s mind. Still, the marks remained unexplained.

<(^.^)>

Logan was awoken by a knocking at his door. It was the middle of the night, and while he was irritated at the interruption of his sleep cycle, he understood that sometimes Patton or Roman had nightmares, and as the logical Side, he was the logical choice to dispel any lingering fear.

He did not find Patton or Roman on the other side of his door.

“Logic,” the unknown Side wheezed. He was shaking as badly as Patton usually did after a nightmare, hunched in on himself and clutching a black hoodie around himself tightly.

Without even thinking about it, Logan pulled out a pen and made a mark on his hand.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Logan asked, making the decision to act as though he had found Patton behind the door. He could learn more about this new Side once he’d calmed down.

The Side nodded, lifting his head for the first time and allowing Logan a glance at a pair of mismatched eyes and tear tracks of eyeshadow running down his face.

“Would it help you to tell me about it?” Logan asked.

“T-Thomas,” the Side gasped, barely managing to get the one word out. “Thomas was- he was in the middle-” the Side did a full body shutter which seemed to cause more tears to stream down his face. “He was lost in th-the middle of a-a city and he couldn’t h-hear me, a-and he got h-hurt.”

Logan nodded. He wasn’t entirely sure of the identity of the Side, but Patton’s nightmares often centered around having an inability to help Thomas — or worse, be a hindrance to him — so Logan could assume that this Side was meant to protect Thomas in some way from the imagined situation. Roman’s nightmares — as creativity — featured many more monstered and imagined things.

“Thomas is not lost,” Logan assured the Side. “He is at home. He is safe. His doors are locked. And when he needs you, he will hear you.”

The Side sobbed again before launching himself into Logan’s arms.

Physical affection did not come naturally to Logan, but living with Patton and Roman certainly gave him plenty of time to study it and gain hands-on experience. He wrapped one arm securely around the Side’s back, and allowed his free hand to card slowly through the Side’s hair — this usually calmed Roman down, Patton on the other hand preferred two-armed hugs, as tightly as Logan could manage. The Side seemed content with Roman’s method as Logan felt him slowly but surely relax under his ministrations.

“Thanks, Logic,” the Side pulled away after a few minutes, looking infinitely calmer than when Logan had opened the door.

“Of course,” Logan acknowledged. “Though I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

“I know you don’t,” the other Side chuckled sadly. Logan did not get it. “My name is Anxiety. I’ll see ya later, teach.”

Anxiety turned and left down the hallway. Logan watched him for a moment, considering how the Side’s function as Anxiety probably left him vulnerable to many nightmares.

When Logan finally closed the door and turned to head back to bed, he’d completely forgotten why he’d opened the door in the first place.

Perhaps he had heard a noise coming from the hall? Yes, that was probably it; he’d heard a noise and thought it might be Patton or Roman with another nightmare.

He didn’t notice the tally mark until the next morning. By then, he’d forgotten about getting up in the middle of the night.

^(^.^)^

“Oh Logan!” An unfamiliar — but distinctly Thomas-like — voice called from behind the logical Side.

Logan turned to find a Side with snake scales covering half of his face holding a bowler hat in his hands and staring at Logan questioningly from farther down the hall.

“Can I help you?” Logan asked, adding another tally mark.

“What do you think about bowler hats?” The Side asked, lifting the hat a little in emphasis.

“Bowler hats — also known as derby hats — originated in the mid nineteenth century as a way to protect gamekeepers in England from overhead tree branches,” Logan recited tonelessly.

“Yes, but what do you think of bowler hats?” The Side stressed.

“Bowler hats were particularly popular in early twentieth century pop culture and thus are an effective accessory to make an outfit seem more old-fashioned.”

The Side chuckled.

“You’re very bad at fashion advice,” he said. “But I think I’ll keep the hat.”

The Side placed the hat on his head and stared at Logan expectantly. A bowler hat is a perfectly respectable style of hat. Logan told the Side as much; the Side only laughed a bit more.

“You are an absolute delight, Logan, but I suppose you’re my only option, after all, you won’t remember this later.”

Logan stared down the empty hallway towards his room. That was odd, he was trying to get to the kitchen. He turned around and continued on.

The common space was empty, but Logan expected as much. Patton was out helping Thomas with an issue, Roman would be in his room for hours yet, working on the script for Thomas’ next video and there weren’t any other Sides in the mindscape.

Logan decided on a sandwich for lunch, and resolved to make a couple extra for Patton and Roman. He was just getting the Crofters out when an unfamiliar — but distinctly Thomas-like — voice suddenly spoke behind him, nearly causing him to drop the precious jam.

“What do you think about the name ‘Janus’?”

Logan set the jam down on the counter before turning around. To his surprise, there was another Side standing behind him, one with snake-like features covering half his face, and a bowler hat resting on his head.

“Who are you?” Logan asked. Another mark. “I wasn’t aware that there were any other Sides.”

“I’m shocked,” the Side smirked. “I’m thinking of going by the name ‘Janus’, but I wanted your opinion first.”

“Have we met before?” Logan asked, unsure why an unfamiliar Side would want his opinion.

“No.”

The Side’s tone and smirk gave Logan the distinct feeling that he was being made fun of, but he couldn’t even begin to fathom how.

“Well, Janus is a Roman god, often attributed to beginnings, gateways, doorways, transitions, passages, frames, time, duality, and endings, so if you feel that any of those things describe your function then I suppose it would be an appropriate name.”

The Side nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I think Janus would be a perfect name, thank you Logan.”

Logan finished making sandwiches, and while he had not thought the task had taken him too long, he was surprised to find that making the three sandwiches had taken him half an hour. He shook the doubts out of his head, sometimes he got lost in thought, it wasn’t uncommon. He left one sandwich in the kitchen with a note for Patton, and took the other two with him upstairs for himself and Roman.

<(^.^<)

“~Loooogaaaaan~”

A tally mark.

An empty room

Green.

Tally.

A mustache.

Tally.

“Logan, you never pay attention to me!”

“I am unsure who you are.”

Tally.

An empty room.

Logan was feeling untethered. He’d been trying to work in the common room for over two hours, but he had nothing to show for it. No work done, no notes written, no memory of what he’d even been thinking for all this time.

The only thing he did have was sixty-four more tally marks than he’d had earlier; his arms were covered with the lines.

Sixty-five.

Strange.

“What if Thomas just straight up set his apartment on fire?”

Logan’s gaze snapped up from his arm to find an unfamiliar Side. The Side rivaled Roman in terms of “extra”-ness, he had a curly mustache, a white streak in his hair, and a green tulle sash. But the real concern was the unhinged and manic look in his eyes when Logan met his gaze.

Tally mark.

“Excuse me?”

“Begone, thot!” Roman yelled from the stairs, charging at the Side with his katana drawn.

“No fun,” the Side pouted, sinking out right before the katana reached him.

“Oh, Roman,” Logan startled at the sudden appearance of the creative Side. “I didn’t hear you come in. Forgive me, I have been… unfocused today.”

“No worries, specs!” Roman responded jovially, though his cheer seemed slightly forced. “I have just the thing to help!”

Roman vanished his katana — which he had had drawn for some reason — and replaced it with a box. He was holding out the board game Stratego for Logan’s consideration.

Roman was right. The task really did help Logan focus, and he didn’t find himself drifting at any point during the game.

By the time Logan and Roman had each won one round of Stratego each, Patton had joined them and insisted on playing Trivial Pursuit next. No new marks appeared during their games.

(>^.^)>

“Logic!” A voice called.

Logan turned around to find a strange Side in a black hoodie with dark eyeshadow smeared under his eyes nervously hovering about halfway down the hall. Tally.

“Can I help you?” Logan asked, thoroughly confused by the presence of a new Side.

“No, I-” the Side hesitated for a moment. “Just, are you okay?”

“Of course I am,” Logan said, a little taken aback. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just… after Remus I thought maybe…” the Side looked around nervously. “Never mind. I’m glad you’re okay.”

Logan stared at the empty hall, he’d thought he heard something… but no, just an empty hall.

Once inside his room, Logan pulled out the notebook he kept track of the tally marks in.

Hmm, seventy today. He didn’t remember seeing the seventieth one earlier, it must have shown up between when he’d left Patton and Roman in the common room and when he’d reached his bedroom. He recorded the number in his notebook along with the day’s date, then set about washing the marks off before bed.

Seventy wasn’t the most he’d ever had in one day, but it was certainly more than usual. He wondered if it had anything to do with his lack of focus earlier…

^(^.^)v

Remus was waiting for Virgil in his room.

“No fair, emo!” He pouted. “I had him at sixty-nine! You did that on purpose!”

“Oops,” Virgil deadpanned, unsympathetically.

Remus sank back to his own room where continued pouting for about an hour, before resolving to try and get Logan up to four-twenty the next day.

~~~END~~~

I found the beginning of this in my WIPs yesterday and finished it today. I completely forgot about starting it the first time, but now I’m completely in love

In case it wasn’t obvious, as soon as Logan can’t see the Dark Side anymore, he completely forgets about the interaction, including any interaction that involved another Light Side (like Roman)

General Taglist: @royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple

[eriklivesinmybasement]

Rise of the Guardians: Is it as good as we remember?

(Oof! I’ve been working on this one for a long while! Buckle up buttercup, this is gonna be a long one!)

(Before I get into this, I want everyone to know that I’m not claiming anything to be fact. This is just my personal opinion).

Back in November of 2012, we were greeted with Rise of the Guardians. This movie, based on the books entitled The Guardians of Childhood, written by William Joyce, gave us a new and unique take on our favorite childhood characters. This included Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, Jack Frost, and more.

While it didn’t do so well at the box office, it seemed to explode in popularity. It spawned a fandom fairly quickly, even spawning a couple fandoms that branched off of it. For a long while there it seemed that, wherever you looked, you saw cosplays, fanart, tribute videos, fanfiction, etc. Loads of people seemed to absolutely love this movie, and I, as a twelve-year-old at the time and thus a part of the target audience, was no exception.

Even now eight years later, I still claim to love this movie. Even though I haven’t seen it in a long while, it left a huge impact on me as a writer and artist, which is why I am sad to see the fanbase slowly dwindling away. So I went back and watched it again, and as I sat there ready to press the ‘play’ button, I began to wonder. 

Will this movie be as good as I remember it?

And the answer? Yes and no.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I still really like this movie, and I still stand by it being one of my favorites. But just like everything else in life, nothing is perfect. And while still amazing, this movie does indeed have some flaws. 

And as I like to save the best for last, I’ll start off by diving into some of the movies flaws.

Flaw #1 - Pacing

The pacing in this movie can be a little awkward from time to time. Nothing super jarring, but enough to make me go, “I’m sorry, what?”. 

Some scenes seemed to just jump from one to the other without much warning. Either that, or the transition from one scene to the next seemed a little off. One example of this is when North, Bunny, Sandman, and Jack Frost set off to the Tooth Palace. There was nothing inherently wrong with these scenes, but the transition between the two seemed a little awkward. One minute we were having a nice, calm moment between North and Jack, and then all of a sudden we get a quick, action-like sequence with the sleigh.

Another moment that felt awkwardly paced was the introduction of the movies villain, Pitch Black. It seemed like there should’ve been more buildup to him. We got a bit, but moments of buildup seemed quite few and far between. When he was introduced it felt almost a little random, him just appearing for a few moments and disappearing just as quick didn’t seem to work or do him justice.

There are other scenes, but I won’t go over those now, as I guess I’m probably already bugging some hardcore RotG fans.

Flaw #2 - Unexplored Questions and Backstories

Alright, before I get people shouting me down about how, “If I want backstory and questions answered I should read the books”, hear me out.

When you make a story, whether it be in the form of a movie or book, you’re going to want it to make sense. You’re going to want everything to tie together. It’s true that the original books do this, but it’s not seen in the movie. So for those who watch the movie, they may walk out confused about some aspects of it. The two parts I’m going to focus on here are Pitch Black’s backstory, and how Sandman came back to life.

Every story needs a good villain, and Pitch Black is certainly a well-defined villain. But here’s the problem. We get no backstory or explanation as to how he came to be. We do get a quick flashback to Pitch during the ‘Dark Ages’, which gives us his motivation as to why he’s doing what he’s doing. But that’s it. We get no other real backstory to how he came to be. Actually, we don’t get that for any of the other Guardians besides Jack Frost. But again, the other Guardians lack of backstory could be forgiven, as none of them are the main characters. But it’s important to tell a villains backstory because it gives the audience something to connect with.

Onto the next question. How exactly did Sandman come back to life?

This is a question that’s actually been on my mind for a while now. How exactly did Sandy come back? In the movie we clearly see him die, so how did he come back from the dead? The only lead I got is that maybe the kids somehow brought him back. During the final confrontation with Pitch, Jamie touches some of the black nightmare sand and it turns gold. It’s later on after that that he looks to the other kids and says, “I know what we have to do,” and they run offscreen for a little while, only for Sandy to show up soon after. Did Sandy come back through the kids believing in him again? Did they preform some sort of ritual to call him back from the dead? Who knows. It’s a dumb nitpick, I know, but I still wonder.

Well, now that I got that out of the way, and the RotG fandom is probably coming after my head, I’ll go over the strengths of this movie. And trust me, these really help the movie stand out.

Strength #1 - The Characters

All the characters in this movie are phenomenal! But to be honest, Jack Frost was the reason I originally wanted to watch this film when it first came out. Growing up I never really heard any stories about Jack Frost, and the only Jack Frost I ever saw in the media was of a withered old man. So seeing him portrayed as a teenager seemed pretty interesting. And the character was handled and written very well. His backstory was intriguing, he had a fun and enjoyable personality, but that’s not all.

One thing that was really great about Jack Frost’s character was his struggle throughout the story, and it’s actually a pretty relatable struggle as well. In the story, Jack Frost starts out not knowing who he really is or why he’s even alive. Not only that, but it seems that no mortals can see him, effectively making him invisible to the entire world. The story follows him as he looks for answers to his identity. 

This can be a very relatable situation, especially for preteens and early teenagers who are still trying to figure themselves out. And most all of us get to this point. We reach a time in our lives, often in our youth, where we start to wonder exactly who/what kind of person we are. Along with the desire to discover ourselves, there is also the fear/feeling of being invisible and isolated, not understanding where we exactly fit in. Again, everyone reaches a place like that as well, where we feel invisible to the world. Just a passerby. Like we have something amazing to share, if only we could get someone to see it. 

The other characters don’t come off as deep or complex as Jack, but that doesn’t make them any less enjoyable. Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and Sandman were all very creatively designed and portrayed. A lot of the fun from this movie actually came from all these strong, drastically different personalities clashing with and bouncing off of one another. It made for some fun dialogue and hilarious moments which had me laughing off and on throughout the beginning of the film. 

Strength #2 - The Villain

Pitch Black is, without a doubt, one of my favorite DreamWorks villains. I loved everything about this character. From the voice, the design, the aesthetic, it’s all wonderful! But the one thing that set this villain up above many others was that he straight up killed an important character onscreen.

Reminder, I was twelve when this movie came out, and up until then, I wasn’t often exposed to death scenes like this in animated films. I grew up majorly on Disney animated movies and shows, and when a character died, it was usually offscreen. And on the occasion it was onscreen? The villain only indirectly killed a character. For example, in the Lion King, Scar pushed Mufasa into a gorge where a stampede was taking place. Scar killed him indirectly, as he’s the one who put him there, but the stampede is what really did the work.

But in this case it was much different. It’s not like Pitch took Sandy off to the side and killed him there. No, we legit saw this whole scene happen and play out on screen. When I first saw it, it blew my mind! This was actually kind of new for me! We saw Pitch take that shot at Sandy, and we actually saw Sandy’s final moments as he died. When you have a villain physically kill off a beloved character on screen, it sends a message. It sends the message that this villain isn’t all talk. That this villain really does have great power of their own, and that they are serious about getting what they want. That they aren’t going to let anyone get in their way. They mean business. And that was perfectly executed in this scene. (No pun intended).

Strength #3 - The Creativity and Art

I think it goes without saying that this movie is unbelievably creative! Everything from the locations, animation, and the characters themselves in both personality and design are just bursting with creative energy! The animation is incredibly detailed, and for DreamWorks as an animation studio, I think this has to be some of their best work. The colors, textures, details, and everything in between are just so beautifully done. In terms of creativity, two of the locations I want to talk about are the Tooth Palace and Pitch Black’s lair. 

When it comes to the Tooth Palace, the artists and creators were given a lot of creative freedom. In media there is no set idea of a place where the Tooth Fairy lives or operates. We all know Santa lives in a workshop, and it makes sense to think that the Easter Bunny lives in a Warren, but no one really knows what to expect when it comes to the Tooth Fairy. When we saw the Tooth Palace, we were treated to some highly detailed and stunning imagery, all with a lovely color scheme of soft pinks, purples, and blues with accents of gold. Not to mention the design of the structural design was a spectacle itself to behold.

And then we have Pitch Black’s lair. As a lowkey goth at twelve years old in the early 2010s, the aesthetic here made it one of my favorite parts of the movie. This set here is similar to the Tooth Palace in that, the creators had a greater level of creative freedom, as we never really think about where exactly the Boogeyman lives. I mean, we know he kinda lives under beds, but that doesn’t sound as cool as living in a spooky, gothic underground secret lair. (But in all honesty, I do really enjoy the detail of the entrance of his lair being under an old, broken down bedframe. It’s a very good nod to the old stories).

It’s like a maze. A labyrinth full of shadows, and looks like the interior of an old, gothic castle that’s somewhat tilting into an abyss. It’s color scheme is predominantly full of grays and blacks, and the surprisingly elegant-looking cages hanging from an invisible ceiling really helps to establish a more gothic look. And since the lair is very dark and shadowed, it fits and aids Pitch black perfectly, in that he can morph in and out of shadows as he pleases. This gives him plenty of places to hide as he’s making an effort to mess with and get into Jack’s head.

The last piece of creativity I want to touch on is how the characters are presented. And holy crap after this movie this is the only way I can view Santa, Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny, etc.!

They take these beloved characters that we are already familiar with, and, while still somewhat showing them as we know them, present them in an entirely different way. 

We all see Santa Claus as this huge, lovable man with a big belly who’s always jolly. And while that is what we get from this Santa, or North, as they call him, it’s very much flipped on its head. While still jolly, North is very eccentric, high-energy, and is strong-armed, duel broadsword wielding Russian warrior with tattoos. Seriously, who thinks of a Russian warrior when they think of Santa?! Well, now I do! Also the fact that he’s not always super happy like other incarnations of the character. We get to see that he’s very capable of getting both upset and frustrated. It’s a pretty interesting way to humanize such a beloved character.

We then have the Easter Bunny, who is played by Hugh Jackman. Say that out loud. The Easter Bunny is being played by Hugh Jackman. Growing up, me and many other kids saw the Easter Bunny as a small, cute little critter who hopped around the world leaving baskets and painting eggs. Not a tall, boomerang wielding fighter from the Australian outback. Not only that, but giving him a small rivalry with North was interesting, and snot something I ever really thought about. As well as the idea of a the Easter Bunny having somewhat of a temper.

In terms of character design, I feel like both the Tooth Fairy and Sandman had the most creative freedom. We don’t see these two characters often portrayed in media, so they were able to receive some really cool and unique-looking designs. Especially the Tooth Fairy. Did you ever think of the Tooth Fairy looking a like an elegant cross between a beautiful woman and a hummingbird? No, of course you didn’t. But Rise of the Guardians gave us just that, and it truly set its place for it’s own individual take on this childhood legend. 

Pitch Black is a fairy creative villain as well. When you hear about the Boogeyman, you don’t get very scared. The name actually sounds a little silly when you say it out loud. And even then, because of the success of The Nightmare Before Christmas, you usually think of their incarnation of the character when you hear that name. But this version of the character is actually much different. He’s not this weird, in-your-face kind of monster. He’s a very subtle, yet terrifying character. When I first saw the movie in theaters, there were kids in the room crying at moments when Pitch Black came on screen. It’s also interesting the way his powers work. We all grew up knowing the Boogeyman as someone who just hid under beds. We had no idea what magical powers he may or may not have had. So giving him the ability to morph into the darkness and into shadows was a pretty cool concept, but also solidified that he had a weakness. Light.

So, In Conclusion...

As I have gotten older, I admit that this movie does look a little different to me now, versus when I saw it as a preteen. I’ve noticed some interesting flaws here and there, but I’ve also been able to remember why I fell in love with it in the first place. It’s a very different kind of movie, but that’s part of what makes it so much fun and interesting.

The characters are delightful, the villain is intimidating, the story, while awkwardly paced, is still pretty solid, and is all tied together with a great lead character. And as you get invested in the story, you’ll find yourself getting really into the all artistry that went into creating this movie.

At the end of the day, it makes me sad to see the fanbase for this movie slowly dwindling away. But I feel there are always going to be people out there who enjoy this movie. And you know what? You never know what the future holds. Perhaps there will be a movie in the distant future. Or more likely a animated series on either TV or Netflix. And for the hardcore fans, go and read the original books. 

All I can say here is that, every now and again when it starts to get a little nippy outside, I’ll sit in my living room with hot chocolate and give this movie another watch.

[darkarchercatalyst]

All right, rant time, and the theme... is themes. (The other theme is Mirai Nikki. We’ll get there.) Quick disclaimer that I’m far from having any sort of expert opinion on literature, so there are likely people who will disagree with me or say things in a much more precise manner. That aside, here we go.

One of the core elements in whether or not I find a piece of fiction satisfying is whether or not it can maintain a consistent theme throughout. Thematic elements exist across a wide range of moods, goals, genres, and so on, and generally reflect on the driving philosophy of the narrative work. They are the parameters that create the framework in which a fictional world exists, much like the laws of physics in reality. When characters and plot move along with respect to the laws that govern them, it provides a cohesive experience. This doesn’t necessarily mean the story is good, but it is coherent. If characters and plot actively subvert the themes of their setting, then it creates a jarring or dissonant experience in the viewer (I’m looking at you, Gurren Lagann).

Sometimes this can be used to great effect. A “twist” ending or sudden change often relies on a thematic shift to move the story from one paradigm to another, with the jarring nature of that transition intended to create emotion of some sort in the viewer. However, to do so effectively requires for the secondary theme to be present throughout the first theme, but simply hidden or not acknowledged. Whether a second theme that enables the twist was properly set up is often seen in whether an audience feels like the twist “came out of nowhere.” Well-executed thematic shifts reward their more perceptive and invested viewers.

The other important part of themes is that they provide a vector along which the story and characters develop. This doesn’t mean that all characters and story beats evolve in the same way, nor should they, but the theme of the work provides the boundaries for the trajectories each element takes. We ultimately want the end state of the characters we like to be somewhere along the thematic route from where they started. Whether the net movement is positive or negative doesn’t necessarily matter as long as we felt that the character’s path had meaning. This is the predominant reason that most people find the endings of shounen manga disappointing, since often the trajectory of the characters’ stories get narrowed down into some sort of textbook feel-good ending that doesn’t reflect any complexity of the plot that came before.

Now then, for the core of the rant. The reason that I hate Mirai Nikki’s ending is that it completely breaks with the thematic elements of the series in order to provide not even a feel-good ending but a self-serving ending on the part of the author. The core element of Yukiteru’s character from the beginning is that he is a passive observer of the world around him. He is highly perceptive and precise in his observations, but it is entirely outwardly facing without regard for himself. This is stressed multiple times throughout the series, as is Yukiteru’s passivity in the face of ongoing events. It is only when he is thrown into a life-or-death situation where his own survival is paramount that this self-neglect becomes a critical flaw, which is then supplemented by Yuno’s character of being entirely centered on Yukiteru. In a messed-up way, their views of the world are necessarily complementary for both of them to survive. This is a good thematic hook to start off on, and intersects with the other diary holders and the ways they each in turn view the world around them.

Mirai Nikki also deals strongly with the ideas of justice and personal codes of honor. The moral perceptions of the contributing characters and the way that each action is justified against those morals is as important to the themes of the story as their preferred method for recording the events of the world. These morals are often intentionally skewed in the sense that it takes an outside morality, often in the form of characters uninvolved in the battle royale like Nishijima or Yukiteru’s friends, to provide a baseline against which the dynamic personalities involved are measured. So far, so good. Throughout the series this served as a decent dynamic and reference point for just how far afield the characters go.

A two-fold problem arises with the way these thematic elements, and we’ll work backwards through them. First, the baseline that the series relied upon for grounding its moral code is broken in response to the event where Yuno kidnaps Yukiteru and holds him hostage. Eventually Yukiteru is saved and released, only to turn around and decide to stay with Yuno anyway because she loves him and the only way he can “save” her is to stick with her. This alone isn’t a breach of Yukiteru’s passive nature despite being frustrating to the viewer, but the problem is the more meta context in which it is portrayed. The characters serving as the moral basis for the series rightfully are disturbed by Yukiteru’s decision, but contextually they are depicted as being wrong for attempting to convince him otherwise. This initial point of fracturing in the theme of the story carries forward in the sense that the series reorients around Yukiteru’s actions becoming deterministic. He simply does what he has to do without regard for exactly where on the moral spectrum that falls. That could have been handled effectively if the moral backbone was maintained. However, it is cast into doubt by the author’s decision to portray a bad decision (with respect to the story so far) as unilaterally good rather than simply reasonable within the context of the story.

This draws a direct line to the second big fracturing point of the thematic elements of the story, which is the ending. Even after the aforementioned breach in the moral core of the story, there is some attempt to regain it by coming back to Yukiteru’s friends and bringing in Akise as an off-kilter moral foil for Yukteru and Yuno’s actions in the last arc or so. This never quite lands aside from having a plot device by which to force Yukiteru’s “character development” at the very end, but more on that in a moment. The core issues it that by the time the series ends, both Yukiteru and Yuno are “bad” characters not just from a reader perspective but from the baseline morality that pervaded the first half of the series. Yukiteru sacrificed his personal morals and Yuno was revealed to have almost none for the sake of winning the war, and the only reason they are still the protagonists by the end is that Yukiteru at least is still “better” than the other bad guys. However, due to the themes of justice pervading the series there is at least some need for consequence for all of the “bad” characters. Except... this doesn’t happen. Yukiteru ends up winning the war and Yuno dies, at which point the thematic conclusion would be that Yukiteru must suffer some consequence of note or at the very least come to a realization that his behavior should change to atone for the actions he took even if they were out of necessity. Instead, he mopes around until Yuno from the next universe was brought to him and they live happily ever after.

This also creates a problem in that it breaks Yukiteru’s character arc and catapults him back to how he was at the beginning of the series. Yukiteru starts from a passive observer to a more active element, but all of this continues to be outward-facing. He behaves within the story as a response to the stimulus around him, but most personal senses of motivation or responsibility are only cursory at best. Only in the final arc, in order to escape being Reality Marble’d and stop Yuno, does he realize his own responsibility for the state of the world around him and acknowledges that he must be the one to take action out of his own motivation. He gains resolve to do not just what must be done in response to the current state, but the “right” thing. Until... he doesn’t. He certainly does the first step in resolving things by winning the war, but then it stops there. Any personal sense of responsibility is immediately torpedoed because he lost his love interest despite being realizing that it was necessary to correct things. Only when she comes back does he regain motivation. This becomes a direct contradiction to the development that Yukiteru took into becoming an active character. He devolves immediately into his dependence on Yuno for motivation.

You could compare this to NGE, which seems to be what the author wanted anyway since they both have a depressed protagonist who “grows up” in the course of messy relationships with girls and authority figures set against a background of apocalypse. They both even have the silver-haired homoerotic male friend with divine knowledge who shows up late in the series as a character motivator for the protagonist. Anyway, whether or not you like Shinji Ikari as a character (I do not), his story follows a linear progression toward the end. He starts as someone with little sense of purpose or belonging and dependency on the affirmation of others, but ends up with the ultimate position of “I want to live in this world.” That final state is a powerful statement of just how far the character has come. Mirai Nikki doesn’t have this. Instead it moves past the character’s resolution and completion of the thematic progression in favor of doubling on the codependency that necessitated the early character state. The protagonist’s development was taken back so that he could still need the yandere girlfriend and they could be together in the end.

So what would have been the proper conclusion to Yukiteru’s thematic progression? It would be the role of an active observer. Throughout the story he becomes privy to the trauma of his friends (especially Yuno) and the many evils of the world that led people to act horribly. Then he was given the power of god by winning the battle royale. The natural progression then would be that he recedes into the background as before but now with the knowledge and influence to fix the problems that burdened the world around him. Instead of shutting down and shutting out things, he would return to his original position of being unseen and only seeing others, yet now with the maturity and capabilities to do something in that role. This carries his resolution from the final arc forward into the epilogue with satisfying consistency. Maybe then after he does all that you could justify bringing Yuno back, but honestly it would be better if she wasn’t even aware of what he does behind the scenes at that point.

That’s a long-winded way to fully articulate why I felt that Mirai Nikki just completely fell flat in the end. This wasn’t even failure to execute, but it was an active deconstruction of what the story seemed to be trying to achieve. All in favor of maintaining the OTP or whatever.

[thesxmmersword]

DETAILED BACKSTORY

Early life  (8:89 - 9:03)

Cauthrien was born into a family of two elder brothers and in the years that came she gained another six siblings. As a child, she lived through the last thirteen years of the Orlesian Occupation. A dirt-poor farmer’s daughter, always hungry and in danger of some Masked Noble deciding that she was worth more as sport than as labour. It was a clawing and desperate existence with little to no moments of joy, a constant fight for survival and one that many of Cauthrien’s siblings lost. 

Those losses hit the young girl hard, her mind and, at times, her father, calling her responsible. The impact of the Occupation was indescribable on her. She was trapped, abused and helpless. Her family were killed off around her and she saw only doom and death in her immediate future. Everything she suffered was out of her control. She still had good influences and good principles from some and she would often go greatly out of her way to help others, risking her life for people she hardly knew. But Cauthrien was very young when she realised how powerless she was and it had a lasting and irreconcilable effect on her for the rest of her life. 

It was in her thirteenth year that the young King Maric routed the Orlesian forces and freed Fereldan from their tyranny. However, even with them gone, Cauthrien’s life did not become significantly easier. Less dangerous perhaps, she felt the freedom she had never known, but the influx of banditry was immense and immediate. Cauthrien found herself fighting off men twice her size on an almost weekly basis, but at the very least now she had a chance of winning.

Early Military Service (9:03 - 9:11)

It came to pass that in her fourteenth year she found a man being beset by a large group of bandits. She had still managed to hold onto some instinct of self-sacrifice throughout childhood, despite it all, so she quickly came to the man’s aid, picking off some of the bandits with her bow before charging in with a stolen Orlesian sword and hacking until none were left.

To her great surprise, the man she ‘saved’ turned out to be Loghain Mac'Tir, Hero of the Battle of Riverdane and one of King Maric’s personal friends and advisors. Cauthrien was awestruck. The feeling was apparently mutual because Loghain offered her a position in his Military. It didn’t even take thought, Cauthrien wanted to fight, wanted a purpose, needed a reason to continue on after everything she had seen and done. She wanted to feel like she was useful, that she deserved to exist, that she had control and power over her life. She could think of no one she would rather pledge herself to. Loghain was a saviour to her. If not for him, the Orlesian Monsters that had dogged her childhood and killed her family would still be abusing and infecting her homeland now. She would have died along with them, eventually. Now her life might mean something and if she spent it, it would be for a good cause.

And so she entered the Gwaren army as a new recruit, her commission and equipment fully paid and her housing dealt with. Still, initially she struggled. Cauthrien’s teenage years were entirely transitional. She was a mess of conflicting personality traits, opinions and capabilities. She could feel a boil of anger in her but was restless and confused about how to deal with it. All her trainers agreed, she was skilled, but they found her hard to control, hard to tire. It wasn’t until Lieutenant Rikke took her on that Cauthrien found the real rigid and all encompassing structure that she could settle on. Having strict rules, expectations and timetables counterintuitively gave her the freedom to explore more of herself. At the end of her apprenticeship, Rikke wrote this letter into her dossier;

FROM: Lieutenant-Captain Rikke of Redcliffe

SUBJECT: Soldier Cauthrien of West Hill, 9th Infantry Battalion

SUBJECT BORN: 8:89 of the Blessed Age, 27th of Wintermarch

DATE: 9:05 of the Dragon Age, 6th of Guardian

A description of the Soldier’s career and suggestions as to her assignments and promotions hereafter.

Cauthrien shows remarkable endurance of every extreme. Natural strength and height gives her an advantage on the field of battle and she is still young enough to be expected to exceed these attributes in the years to come. She outmatches all of her peers currently on simple physical levels and hand-to-hand sparring combat has seen her as the Champion for this year.

She has mastered Shield and Longsword at levels far above her peers and exceeds most of them in almost every other manner of battle, bar duel weaponry. Her abilities on horse-back still leave something to be desired and she has little to no literacy in any language. 

As a Soldier she shows promise. She follows orders precisely and without complaint. Her understanding of positions and combat movements is advanced due to specialist training and all of her Commanders have reported, at least, that she has never failed in her duties. 

A LETTER IS THEN INSERTED HERE 

To whomever this might concern,

  Cauthrien is a true asset, there can be no doubt of her potential. I do not think I have trained such a promising recruit in the whole of my career. Her tolerance to pain alone has seen her battle three men whilst trailing a dislocated arm and thinking nothing of it. I have seen a number of similar individuals, admittedly. Many Children who survived through the Occupation have emerged durable and committed to our Country’s defense.

However, Cauthrien shows extremes in all this, as well as the side effects. She holds a fury and a fear that I doubt she will ever be rid of. I have discovered little about her family, but from what I do know she has lost as much as any of us to the Orlesian’s swords. She has a drive to prove herself that, while it might be considered perfect for a life of service, I  would advise not encouraging. She has made it plain that sacrificing her life for her Country is her intended end and, Ser, it is disturbing to hear a pup of seventeen say such things in such a tone. 

I would suggest that any commander wishing to take her on in a full time placement should be aware of these factors and keep in mind she works best under strict timetables and orders.

 Her Loyalty will be well worth the effort spent to earn it.

In conclusion, Cauthrien is a candidate for greater promotion and I believe would thrive in a Captaincy of her own in years to come. For now I suggest offering her greater responsibilities and assigning her to a fixed Battalion with a steady command.  I agree with my Teyrn’s recommendation of introducing her to Commander Torvin of Maric’s Shield. 

Torvin, the old elf in charge of Maric’s Shield at the time, was suitably impressed. Young though she was, the members of the battalion were eager to welcome her. Perhaps because she was young. Quite a few lacked the vitality she possessed, nor could sport the kind of endurance she had any longer. She was welcomed and she was valued and with Torvin reporting directly to Loghain, she even saw more of him. And when she truly began working towards the betterment of Ferelden, bleeding and fighting for her country and winning alongside comrades who felt the same fervour, she realised she was powerful. And it viscerally delighted her. 

Now that she was no longer a cornered animal, but a formidable predator, quivering fear and crippling grief became roiling fury and stoney apathy. The extremes that she switched too shocked everyone. Suddenly gone was the quiet and defensive and stiff girl, she was an avenging angel of persecution, no Orlesian was safe behind Fereldan borders and she made absolutely certain it stayed that way. She and her comrades would goad visiting chevaliers into ‘friendly competitions’ that never ended well, but always ended with Cauthrien’s bloody victory. She was more unstable. Violence came to her easily and quickly. Everyday felt like an endless battle to keep control of her emotions when outside of her duties, a war she won the majority of the time, but those slips were cataclysmic in nature. Emotion she had been forced not to feel was returning to her, stale and bitter and poisonous after being left to ferment for so long. 

But crucially, her comrades in arms accepted this all as part and parcel. Many were old veterans to the occupation themselves, or indeed youths who’d grown up in it, Cauthrien’s turmoil was no stranger. They learned where not to touch her, they learned how to take her away from fights, they learned how to steer her out of trouble as though it was a natural part of duty, something they would and did do for anyone else. It was necessary, for her, to feel such rage, to validate how terrible it truly was. There was always too much fury inside her to fully release, but she managed to get some of the way there, she found a little calm place to settle and her new sense of family helped. 

Military Command (9:11 - 9:20)

Even better, at twenty one Loghain was suddenly placed as Regent to Ferelden and he knew he needed a trusted second to aid him in the turmoil of Maric’s sudden disappearance. Cauthrien was initially surprised to be requested, but it did not last long and she committed herself to those duties without reservation. With new responsibility and a new importance placed on her own reputation, she found even more calm and control and by the end of the year she had changed dramatically once again. Now she flexed and grew into herself, her initial rushed excitement of power tempering to a lionine contented confidence, her manner exuding and intimidating kind of comfort that made her perfect for command. Which helped greatly when she joined Loghain in besieging the Circle Tower and once again foiling an Orlesian plot to retake the country.

She retained her position as Loghain’s second after Maric returned, though she also returned to her duties within Maric’s Shield. An easier task than it sounded when Maric’s Shield followed their Teyrn so closely and received their orders from him directly. Still, it allowed her and Loghain to truly get to know each other. Cauthrien spent time with his family, became known and liked by Lady Celia and gained confidence in her right to stay at his side and exist in his circles. They came to trust one another too, in a more personal way, the trappings of hero worship finally discarded for genuine understanding and respect. They learned each other’s reticent and restrained languages.

And with Torvin’s retirement from command, Cauthrien was the natural choice to succeed him, though she was only twenty four at the time. It was well earned and well received within the regiment and Cauthrien herself felt heartily ready for the commission. A fact which she summarily proved a few years later. With her own alertness where Orlais was concerned and the information she was now able to access, realisation that the empire was beginning to once again test their borders came quickly and chillingly. Troop movements beyond the mountains, scout ships in Storm Coast waters, it felt dangerously familiar. But they could not risk any overt combat, trying to preserve the fragile ceasefire whilst Ferelden was still recovering from the occupation. 

Through a complex and intricate web of plots and misdirections, Cauthrien managed (using only her own forces) to draw some of Orlais’ emboldened forces over the mountains. With their crossing, an act of war in itself, Cauthrien no longer needed to show restraint. Maric’s Shield spent three months in the Frostbacks, crafting ambushes and disrupting camps, ensuring the emperor’s soldiers never left the mountains and culling any reinforcements that arrived. In the end she lead a crucial final onslaught that saw the snow painted red and finally drove any hint of a second invasion back. She sustained a near fatal blow to her chest in that final engagement and Loghain was at her side when she awoke. 

No one but Maric was made aware of anything surrounding the incursion, which was by specific design and Cauthrien had always known she would see no recognition for it. However, a year later, King Maric declared that Commander Cauthrien would be knighted for ‘dedicated service rendered for king and country’. And truly, though Cauthrien would have been content to simply do her duty, her knighthood was one of her proudest accomplishments and a true moment of success in her eyes. Even her parents came to witness it, though they did not stay long. 

However being Ser Cauthrien brought other challenges. Where classism had always been a factor in her life, her inclusion into the noble classes by way of her knighthood was not viewed favourably by all. She gained enemies within the nobility and her right to the title was often covertly questioned, though never in Loghain’s presence. But still, she was well prepared to deal with such petty issues by then and manage her frustrations when it became an obstacle to her goals. 

At thirty one the Gwaren forces were fully recovered and had become one of the largest and best kept armies in the country. Loghain’s duties took him often away from Gwaren and with his forces so large, he gave Cauthrien the title of General over their barracks. It was a point of amusement to them both that not a month after this was announced, Emperor Florian was found dead and his niece succeeded him. The girl had not held the throne long before official peace was declared between Ferelden and Orlais. It was a kind of victory, one that was celebrated quietly among Cauthrien’s circles. Loghain gifted Cauthrien the summer sword shortly after, something to mark the year. She accepted it with fondness and thoughtfulness both.

The Fifth Blight (9:30-9:31)

After a truly gruelling four years, Cauthrien and Loghain both face the news of a new darkspawn threat with an embittered and weary kind of dread. Maric’s sudden loss shocked everyone and Cauthrien was still worn from the search when Lady Celia suddenly and unexpectedly died, a further crushing loss to compound the hurt. She had been as present for Loghain as she could be, but she was aware this was a grief he had to contend with for as long as necessary and her true aid could come only with guiding his days and nights. Which had been her intent, until the next threat had arrived. 

Cailan had never been a man who inspired much faith in Cauthrien, though she treated him still with all the deference a King deserved. But the fact remained that Cailan was not ready to lead them all alone through this crisis and Loghain was needed, whether he was ready for it or not. And it was that kind of severity of purpose that she knew they both shared that made Cauthrien allow Loghain to push himself as he did. First their request for the Orlesian warden’s aide was met by a completely laughable demand, next Cailan became enamoured by Duncan’s charm and he became even less manageable, and all throughout the constant tension of Cailain’s treatment of Anora became harder and harder to bear. 

It also brought an unsettling amount of chaos into the Banns and Arls, the political climate unstable and growing worse by the day with Arl Eamon’s encouragement. All in all, Cauthrien was aware that they were sailing into dangerous waters and it only grew worse from there. 

With the disaster at Ostagar, Cauthrien could say she was disappointed but not surprised by Teagan’s idiotic dramatised rebellion. The landsmeet was perhaps a more horrifying failure than Ostagar had been, suddenly all of Ferelden was in danger of splintering apart at the worst possible moment. Blight or no, a darkspawn attack without opposition would see the country brought to its knees and thousands dead. And with the knowledge that at least half of the nobility were motivated in their insurgency just because of Loghain’s common birth, it ground Cauthrien’s teeth and dragged in her a very sharp kind of cold. She came with Loghain to the final meeting between him and Bann Bronarch, which could have stalled the fighting in it’s tracks if it had gone well. 

It had not. And Bronarch had been beheaded by Cauthrien herself. The battle was won and the crown gained the upper hand, but it did not feel like a victory to her. 

After that Cauthrien was mostly kept away from Denerim, risen to Captain-General alongside Loghain’s regency and fighting a bloody civil war for the eventual peace of the realm. She knew Howe to be a snake, she knew Loghain was slowly slipping under the weight of so much grief and horror, but there was little she could do. There were just too many fires to put out. And she admitted, she had lost her patience too. Bann Grainne had been so satisfied with herself, standing in front of a full years worth of burning harvest, and Cauthrien had lost her temper. They lost allies, even as they won victories, and though Loghain succeeded against terrible odds at wintersbreath, and Cauthrien clawed victory from defeat in both Oswin and the Lachus Valley, they soon realised it would not be enough. 

Arl Eamon’s recovery from their careful poisoning saw the end to their campaign and Cauthrien returned to Loghain for the Landsmeet. She found a thoroughly broken man. Others perhaps could not see it, but Loghain was so changed to Cauthrien that she sometimes could not recognise him. She found Howe’s influence so entrenched that there was no way for her to dig him out. Anora was wary of her now. The world was changed and, once again, for the first time in a very long time, Cauthrien was powerless to help. 

Loghain had told her not to accompany him to the Landsmeet. Cauthrien understood why, but that did not make her oaths or convictions any less binding, nor did she trust that either Eamon or these green wardens could successfully pull the country back from the brink. And so she had to stand between Loghain and death one last time. But her faith was shaken and she was wounded, weary and aching from all the harm she had caused to a people she had sworn to protect. In the end, when faced with the Warden a second time, she finally left it all up to fate.

[kagemajaya]

Unripe Expression - High school romance and friendship done well

Misughan Pyohyeon - 2016, Aga - 9/10

Jaewon and his boys - my favorite harem yet

I’m not much of a manga reader, if you don’t count BLs that is. BL manga is one of the very few things that can pull me out of boredom, and I consume on average one volume a day. Korean webtoons are definitely a part of this comic devotion of mine. They are almost always easy to consume (not something I can say for manga) and the format lends itself to binging extremely well. Many a night, starting a new 80+ chapter webtoon has been a grave mistake for me, as I end up welcoming the sun with whatever couple I’m on a journey with at the time. Another feature of most BL webtoons is that somehow their drama never suffocates me, no matter the seriousness. Albeit a huge generalization, even when they make me cry rivers, they never feel quite so pessimistic as their Japanese counterparts. I always know what sort of an emotional reaction I’ll get out of them - which is not a bad thing if you are reading romance as a enjoyable pastime.

Unripe Expression, while seemingly just another one of the cute high school romances with some light drama, changed my mind as it built towards something subtly different. Throughout the majority of the story, I had two main feelings: that the story was ordinary but very involving, and that the main cast was individually superb characters. They were well-written and had lives and feelings of their own, and they were all extremely sympathetic even after they made mistakes. At the end, my feelings on the boys remained strong, but another thought struck me. The story was their desires, interactions, overall relationships, and characterization otherwise. The romantic pursuits and the friendships that Aga showed us were nuanced and alive, and I love each and every one of them.

Jaewon, the MC, is a sweet guy and first and foremost I wanted his choice to be realized, and this was in spite of Junseo being my best boy. While Jaewon had agency in the narrative, and he had a choice from the very beginning, the romantic plot never revealed what it had in store for us at the end. This is a 70 chapter comic, and I only knew who the lucky guy was in the last 2-3 chapters, a truly unpredictable gem. This can rattle a lot of people, and perhaps, if I hadn’t been convinced by the relationships of Jaewon and the boys, I’d have felt the same. Looking up some reviews after I finished the story, I found that not a lot of people were happy about the ending, so this might not be one of the stories you choose to read when you are in the mood for wish fulfillment. Speaking for myself, it fulfilled my wishes in terms of great relationship development on all counts, so even if I felt sad for the unlucky ones, I was completely satisfied with the way this particular story turned out. I bought every one of their plotlines, and that none of them were tools for fanservice to the audience. I was reading the real lives of a bunch of good high school boys, and what I wanted for them was not really their concern. Aga certainly has the qualities of a writer that I respect passionately. They seem to be writing for art and not the reader. Having said that, I’m still a weak human, so I’d love to see a continuation story for the other boys who couldn’t get Jaewon. [Big spoilers past this point until marked otherwise.]

Is it gonna be him or him or him? An embarrassment of riches...

First and foremost of those boys is of course Junseo, the reason for the public outcry in reviews. Junseo is the most well-built character and it is perfectly natural to be on his side as he helps Jaewon through his identity crisis and romantic troubles chasing Karam. He is sweet, loyal, a great friend, and as we witness him support his friend wholeheartedly, he falls in love with him in the process. The fact that he had already had a very intense relationship before high school and was broken hearted over it adds to our deep sympathy for him. His own transition from friend to boy in love is believable, and the story helps us support him in his quest through the first half of it - until we start getting a bit more into how Karam sees Jaewon (well at least me!)

My journey in what I want for Jaewon was quite shaky. In fact I’d say I’d have probably felt okay with whoever he ended up with. However, my top choice changed throughout the story; first Karam, then Junseo, and Karam again. I never stopped loving Junseo the best and feeling for him, but as mentioned, I wanted Jaewon to have who he wanted. We knew Karam was slightly interested in him from the beginning but the nature of that was not entirely clear. As we got further away from understanding him, my heart was turning towards Junseo and giving him what he wanted. However, Aga eventually turned the story back to Karam, with a new tool in the game - Jaewon’s first love Yoonsung. Yoonsung didn’t only trigger Karam to understand his own feelings better, he also showed us that Jaewon’s feelings were fully mutual. Karam can come across as the least developed of the group, and he is certainly the “less exciting” choice, but his own struggles with his feelings were gripping. Despite feeling that Jaewon was special, and despite being confessed to, he turned down Jaewon and still wanted to stay with him. This trope of being scared to lose a friend can come across as ordinary, but in this case the execution was superb. Karam wasn’t actually scared, and without respite, he kept sticking to Jaewon and flirting with him and doing everything in his power to stay in his heart. He didn’t want to lose Jaewon’s love for him to Yoonsung. The inherent selfishness of this is also inherently titillating to me - as long as Jaewon was only looking at him, he didn’t want to bother with the troubles that come with romance. Thankfully, Yoonsung came across as a very open threat to his possessive love. Little did he know, the real possible competition was Jaewon’s best friend Junseo.

Yoonsung himself comes across as the easy boy, the playboy who is playing games, and why would we ever root for him? The truth is we’ve read plenty of BL where the childhood love of the hero returns and has had a transformation of his own and gains the heart of his love again. Yoonsung is a charming boy, and from his perspective, the story is a sad one. The boy he’s loved all his life doesn’t pick him, and he doesn’t even make it simple. Jaewon’s protests against Yoonsung’s advances are flimsy at best. In the space of a few days, he gives hope to all three boys with his actions. Karam has already been confessed to, Yoonsung is allowed physical closeness, and Junseo emotional closeness. Jaewon’s relationships with each of them make these interactions believable and not-unlikeable. They are all a part of the natural flow, and in the end, as a boy who has been turned down, his confusion is natural. I find the final choice of Karam incredibly realistic, as he’s never stopped loving him. And luckily for Karam, he wasn’t too late to fix what he had almost undone. Unlucky for Junseo of course, because given enough time, I have no doubt that he could have made Jaewon forget about Karam’s rejection. Just the timing wasn’t right. Poor Yoonsung, on the other hand, was entirely too late. His time had been almost ten years ago. His unintentional rejection of Jaewon as a well-meaning child was the final chance he was ever going to get. 

Jaewon is the wholesomest slut in the world of BL

Another entirely doki doki element of the webtoon is that throughout the story no one ever finds out how close Jaewon and Junseo were. It was their own world, making their friendship particularly special - and make no mistake, it was a friendship, of the best kind. A huge strength of this webtoon was that despite most of the boys being in love with Jaewon, it wasn’t only about romance. It was very much about friendship, friendship of people who might have romantic connections as well. Whilst in many romance stories, friendship can be neglected, it is even rarer to see lovers or love interests portrayed properly as a friend. The perfection of how Junseo was equally in love and a loyal friend is one of the biggest draws here. Of course, we don’t only have Junseo as a friend but also Jaehee, who was the only straight boy in the crowd, Jaewon’s other best friend. Jaehee had a smaller role compared to the others, however, from his initial reaction to how he got himself forgiven and how he silently watched over his friend without wanting to make him uncomfortable, he had a subtle and sweet character development of his own. He was the less complicated friend-the one who was always there, unlike Junseo who had to leave at the end. And that choice was probably the one that made me the saddest. It was clear to me that Jaewon wasn’t only a crush for Junseo, so seeing him throw away his friendship was particularly sad. Jaewon respected his choice in the end, as he had briefly been there with Karam and didn’t appreciate the situation he was put in (once again showing that Karam is not such a goodie two-shoes.) In the end, this made the ending particularly bittersweet - not only because best boy Junseo didn’t get the boy but also because they had lost their best friends in each other as well. If we ever get a sequel, I would love to see Junseo get a boyfriend of his own, and back to being friends with Jaewon - and close friends at that! If I had to complain about anything at all, it would be that friendship does come behind romance as the main theme, and this means that once the romantic plotline ends, we don’t get to see any “side stories” to see where they all end up. Given how important friendship is to the rest of the story, it would have been more fulfilling to have one for the road.

Spoilers done!

In the end, Unripe Expression was a great success - telling a heartfelt story of love and friendship of five sweet boys, all of whom you could route for, for their own happiness. Harem is a particularly difficult structure to realistically execute and Aga did it perfectly here. None of the characters’ interest in the main character felt forced and I never found myself thinking, oh my god, why does everyone like this one boy! Even if the last choice may be controversial to some, Unripe Expression tells the story of Jaewon’s romantic escapades in a heartfelt and well-constructed fashion. Hopefully, you’ll give this beautiful (and extremely bingeable) webtoon a shot and Aga will one day grace us with more of their imagination and more of these boys’ friendships.

[theoriginalladya]

Lonely Sunday Morning (fanfic)

So, a bit of a setup here:  some 4-5 years ago maybe(?) I created Michaela Shepard to RP with @scarletthalloran‘s Kaidan Alenko.  During that time, she introduced me to Levi Kreis’ songs.  Several in particular stood out as really good Mass Effect inspiring, but Lonely Sunday Morning just spoke to me on another level altogether.  Ever since then, I’ve been trying to finish a fic I started for her tied to that.  Tonight, I finally finished it.  

Here you are, my dear!  I’m so sorry it took so long, but just know these two are always in my mind, and though short lived, I had a blast playing Michaela with your Kaidan! :)  <3

(under cut for length)

Setting:  Normandy   post-Thessia

On AO3 here

~~~

Like a lion through the high grass of the savannah, exhaustion stalks her every move, and with each mission, every battle, it is only getting worse.  If she feels anything, it is the weight of every minute, every hour, every day that passes since fleeing Earth and the Reaper attack.  It doesn’t matter that it was for the good of the galaxy; it still hurts, and moving the entire process forward is a painful battle of its own, at times even against herself.  She is drained; no doubt about it.  Spent physically, emotionally, any and all ways a body, mind and spirit can be wrung out.  But the missions come with such frequency and with very little of the precious downtime in between, she feels as if she is perpetually cracked, her life seeping out through the fissures.  

The war is taking its toll on her crew as well. On her friends.  Mistakes have been made.  The risks are starting to outweigh the benefits, but what other choice is there?  The fate of the galaxy is on the line and they, she, is the only one who can get them there.  Winning is the only option; well, not the only, but failure certainly isn’t in the cards. Not if she has a say in it. At the very worst, they die trying, and if that is their destiny, at least they will leave better counsel in place for the next cycle.

Shepard’s towel slithers down her body to form a muddled heap at her feet.  She chooses to ignore it and the many regulations drilled into her during basic so many years ago, instead opting to crawl straight beneath the sheets.  Temptation is a dangerous thing, she recalls hearing somewhere.  Right now, temptation wins out, though guilt tracks her quickly on its heels and attempts to gain traction … to no avail, the shower having taxed all remaining strength to push it away.  

So close, she thinks as her head hits the pillow, tears finally forming as the truth wraps around her like a shroud.  We were so damned close … and now we are even further away than before …

The dampness of her hair soaks the pillow and case, but she doesn’t care.  Her eyes close, blessed sleep just within her grasp.  To escape the failure, if only for a fleeting moment.  She wants, needs, to recharge.  To process.  To find a way to cope so that she can charge forward tomorrow as they need her to …

Bedclothes drawn over her shoulders, the soothing light from the fish tank the only source of brightness in the room, reality smacks her in the face with the force of a krogan headbutt, and she shudders. Realization, even at this depth of exhaustion, is not kind; it doesn’t matter how tired she is, how badly her body wants to fade into unconsciousness, her brain is unwilling to accommodate her and will not shut off.  Focusing on good times, envisioning familiar, friendly faces – none of that will help. Distraction comes in many forms, but right now, behind closed eyelids, all she sees are tactical plans, desperate fights for survival, and the face of defeat … behind a mask and a sword .... Like an old school horror film, it replays over and over and over …

A scream builds in her throat, the desire to yell and curse and blast anyone or thing close enough to her in this moment. She needs rest, dammit!  If she’d only been a little faster, smarter, stronger on Thessia, they wouldn’t be in this situation.  She cannot afford another mistake on that magnitude!

Biting back a half sob of frustration and anguish, she sits up and wraps her arms around her legs, dropping her forehead to rest on her knees.  It’s too much.  I can’t keep doing this.  WHY WON’T YOU LET ME SLEEP???

The inner voices that often chide her during such times remain suspiciously silent this night.  The replay of events on Thessia, however, do not.

Her chest aches, just the tiniest bloom near her heart, but it grows exponentially and spreads, its menacing tendrils burrowing deep.  Her head starts to ache, beginning in her temples and slicing outward, searching for all of the most inconvenient and uncomfortable places …

This, however, she is prepared for.  Without lifting her head, she extends her hand to the nightstand drawer and pulls it open.  She fumbles a moment, eventually settling upon the small bottle of painkillers that the doctor provided weeks ago.  The rattle from within assures her there are at least two left; it is enough. She pops them into her mouth and downs them without water.  Enough is enough.  Maybe this will help the other issue as well.

The bottle falls to the floor from nerveless fingers and she prays the relief comes quickly.  It won’t last long, but if it can take the edge off, perhaps it will also allow her mind to be at ease and sneak stealthily past the images into unconsciousness …

Ten minutes past.  Twenty.  As the thirty minute mark comes and goes, a lone tear leaks from closed lids and trickles down her nose to drip silently into the sheets.

Opening her eyes, Shepard sits up, a sigh of frustration easing past her lips.  She turns her attention to the tank, eyeing the creatures inside, desperately wishing for a way to escape reality for just five bloody minutes with no other care in the world.  Just five damned minutes -- she isn’t greedy! -- to rest.

Rolling to her feet, she grabs the offensive towel out of spite; she could ignore it again but the risk of tripping in her current state outweighs any momentary rebelliousness.  With a flick of her wrist, she tosses it in the direction of the sofa … and then groans when it falls behind it.  Nothing, it seems, can be a win these days …    

It's then she notices her last chance, her one saving grace.  Lying on the coffee table and flipped onto its face is her music datapad.  She crosses the room in three strides and grabs it as well as the earbuds and returns to bed.  A simple touch of her finger to the pad starts the playback.  Something soothing and gentle, she hopes. Something that will transition her failure into sleep so she can get proper sleep to deal with whatever the reapers or Cerberus throw at her next.  You win some, you lose some, she recalls her father saying once so many years ago.  With a sigh, she thinks, Yeah, Pop, but today we lost an important one … one that might just keep us from winning the whole thing ….

She desperately hopes she is wrong on that count.

Lying back, her eyes close and she sighs heavily as the first soft strains of piano filter in.  It isn’t any song she is familiar with, but it has a nice sound to it … and then a deep, powerful, rich voice starts to croon.  Resonate.  

She bolts upright, eyes wide, breath tight in her chest.  She knows that voice!  This isn’t some professional recording, either – there’s a scratchiness in the background that suggests it was recorded over omni-tool.  It also does nothing to hide the way the notes, so vibrant and compelling, meld with words that pull a deep and purely emotional response from within.

I can still taste you on my lips

I can still smell you on my sheets

I can still feel the way you tremble

When I hold you close to me

All thought of blissful peace in unconsciousness flees with the strength of a biotic flare.  And she doesn’t care …

It's like everything about you

Is everything I need

Waking up without you

Is gonna be the death of me

I'm not so use to silence

I can't find you anywhere

The tears are automatic -- between lyrics and music, she cannot help it.  With shaking hands, she lifts the datapad and searches for clues to its owner because it certainly is not hers.

 ~ n ~

 Wearily, Kaidan exits the lift and enters the cabin as silently as he can.  He’s aware, from EDI, that Shepard retreated here after speaking with the asari Councilor, Admiral Hackett, and following up with Liara.  There is a pattern in her retreat, one he isn’t certain she’s aware of, but now is hardly the time to argue about it.  Her constant state of go, go, go in the face of so much adversity without recharging is of concern to him.  She is their pillar of strength at the forefront of this crusade, and she needs it as much if not more than any of the rest of them.  

Still, she is who she is, and that isn’t worth arguing about either; thus the head start in the hopes she might take advantage of the opportunity and for once give in to her own needs.  The fact that she’s here in her cabin suggests she may have.

He enters to darkness, the glow of the fish tank his only guide, but it’s more than enough, particularly for someone used to taking refuge in dark corners for torturous migraines.  He maneuvers through the cabin with grace and skill and very little if any sound …

Until he realizes Shepard is sitting unnaturally upright in the middle of their bed.  Starlight from the overhead window streams down over her; it’s more than enough to see she is shaken.  Something about it, something he can’t put into words, leaves him uneasy.  She turns toward him, their eyes meet, and he finds something hauntingly familiar there.  “Shepard?”

“Kaidan ...”

Her voice is but a rough rasp of a whisper, but her eyes remain on his, on him. He swallows back wariness and descends the steps to sit on the edge of the bed. “Are you alright?”  He is hesitant to reach out in case it startles her, and yet he cannot help himself.  “Have a bad dream?” he asks as he laces his fingers with her free hand.  “Is there something I can --”

She touches a datapad he didn’t see, and the air around them fills with sound.

“It's a lonely Sunday morning

Cuz you left me without warning

And I don't know how to make it through this lonely Sunday morning…”

The words and music are as familiar to him as breathing, but his eyes widen in shock as she sings along.  “How did you …?”

She hands over what turns out to be his music pad.  The one, he realizes, he never tucked back away in the drawer where he normally leaves it because they arrived early to Thessia and the situation there far more dire than anticipated ....

“Kaidan.”  

Her voice cracks on his name and he winces at the pain in it.  “Shepard, let me explain.”

She sets the pad aside and lifts her other hand to frame his cheek, turning his face toward her.  “No need,” she whispers before leaning over to ghost a kiss across his lips.  “I only have one question - why didn’t you tell me?”

He sighs – half in relief, half at the weight of having kept this from her for so long.  “I …”  He drops his gaze to their joined hands.  “Losing you hurt,” he replies.  It’s a simple excuse, too simple for what they’ve been through, but it’s the truth. “I needed a way to let that pain go.”

Against his cheek, he feels her hand tremble.  “Do you … do you think … maybe you could teach me?”

“Hey.” He moves the pad out of the way and pulls her over onto his lap, wraps his arms around her, hums softly with the song. “Next time we’re on the Citadel?”

She nods, tucking her head against his shoulder.  The song kicks into a repeat cycle, softly filling the air around them. “Sing for me?”

He presses a soft kiss to her forehead.

I can still taste you on my lips …

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Deep Within The Darkness Peering. Part ii. Chapter One.

Anonymous said: OMGOMGOMGOMG DWTDP owns me! So original. Please please PLEASE finish this (after 87 chapters and multiple arcs of course!)

--

As you wish, Anon <3 MBD.

--

Not wanting to overwhelm him on his first few days of release, Claire simply gave Jamie a tour of her property, showed him his room, the lounge and the kitchen and then gave him some space to settle in. Glenna had been a saint through it all and had procured Claire a few days annual leave so that she could see he’d made himself truly at home. It also meant that she was able to drive him to his first probation meeting.

“Was there a lot to take in?” She asked as he climbed back into the car an hour later.

“Aye and no.” Replying he seemed content which in turn made her less worried. “I kent most of it from the meeting I had before I left the prison. I think I was just worried that things might have changed since.”

“And they haven’t?” She wanted him to meet John but had waited until this meeting before suggesting it, scared herself that something might go wrong. Grateful that things had gone as well as they could she paused to let him reply before putting the idea to him.

“No, thank the lord. She didna see it fit to impose a curfew or have me tagged.”

Their relationship, being new and still a little daunting for the both of them, meant that Jamie still seemed quiet and withdrawn but Claire wished he’d had the confidence to come and tell her of his fears. She could already see, as they pulled away from the council building, the relief coursing through him as he slumped back against the front seat.

“So, I have someone I’d like you to meet - if you’re up to it?”

Turning to look at her, Jamie smiled. “Oh, aye?”

“His name is John Grey. He’s a very close friend, a barrister actually. He’s the one who pushed through your appeal.”

“That sounds good.” Replying he looked sad for a moment, his hands gripping across his knees. “I only wish I had something more than ‘thank you’ to say to both of ye.”

“How many times do I have to say it,” reaching across the central console, she took one hand off the wheel for a moment and rested it over the back of his, squeezing once before taking it back, “you don’t need to do that. I can’t explain it entirely, but there was something nagging at me from the moment we met and I would’ve never forgiven myself if I’d ignored it. That means John saw it too, when he looked deeper into your case. I promise you, he wouldn’t fight for something, for someone he didn’t believe in - even at my request.”

Nodding, he tipped his head towards his lap, breaking eye contact as he smiled softly once more.

“Maybe soon you’ll trust me enough to talk. When you do, I’m here. I just wanted you to know that.”

He waited until they’d parked back outside Claire’s flat before he replied, his mind replaying certain painful memories as Glasgow flew past them. “It isna about trust, please dinna think that I want to hide anything from you. I just...can’t...not yet.”

Each night since his release she had carefully been applying the scar balm she’d picked up from work, her fingers gently rubbing the transparent cream into each and every inch of his sore back to ensure as little damage as possible remained etched into his flesh. Afterwards she’d silently washed her hands in the bathroom basin, placed the tub onto the top shelf of the unit above the sink, climbed into bed and cried herself to sleep. She knew the damage, she’d (at her own punishing request) seen the footage John had requested from the prison - each cruel blow depicted in grainy black and white, and she vividly recalled the operation she’d assisted in to ensure his survival.

Hearing his voice break as he tried to hold himself together made her instantly regret her wording as she sighed and pulled the key from the ignition.

It was a dry day, and they watched passers by as they wondered the pavements, crossing in front of the parked car as they cut across the grass on the edge of the apartment complex.There was definitely more to the story than was written in the detailed report given at his trial, Claire knew without asking that John also had his doubts as to its validity and she hoped, in time, Jamie would open up enough to her that she could help him possibly clear his name.

“I’d really like to meet him, yer friend John. Even if thank you is all I have,” he whispered, “I’d still like to say it.”

“I can assure you, he’ll say the same as me.”

-- --- --

Claire went to the shops alone, leaving Jamie to rest on his own after their busy morning. Calling John on the way, she confirmed a good time and went on a hunt for something vaguely edible.

It was nice to be out, she soon realised, as the clean, cool air encased her. The supermarket wasn’t too busy and it was relaxing just wandering around with nowhere to be until later. Having not left the house in a couple of days, she’d been so desperate to make sure Jamie made an easy transition into her life that she’d failed to realise that they’d been cooped up for two whole days. It was unusual for her to have such freedom and she was grateful for the chance to just relax.

“Honestly, I didn’t think I’d ever catch you in the raw meat aisle.” John laughed as he approached Claire from behind making her jump a little.

“How on earth did you find me?”

Bringing his phone out of his pocket, he waved it in front of her and pointed to the open app with her live location. “Technology is quite scary these days!”

Leading up to Jamie’s release, John had suggested pairing their phones just in case he desperately needed to get hold of her and couldn’t, he’d presented it as a mere friend doing his duty, but truthfully he was worried in case they’d made a bad decision offering her home up to Jamie. If he turned out to be something more sinister.

“So are you, Grey.” She retorted, slapping the steak packet against his chest. “And what is wrong with my cooking?”

“All I’ll say is; it’s good it can be either rare or well done and still edible, eh!”

Taking her arm, they continued to meander around the shop, Claire putting various food items into the basket as they walked in companionable silence.

“When is your next shift?” He asked as they bagged the groceries.

“Not until the weekend now, I was going to go back tomorrow but I wanted to encourage Jamie to leave the flat without having some sort of meeting at the end of it...I just haven’t worked out how I’m going to do it yet.”

“I take it a trail of breadcrumbs is out of the question?”He quipped, taking the full bag and carrying it out to the car for her.

“He’s a little too smart for that trick, John. But thanks for the suggestion.”

“The real question is, is he staying in because he’s just getting used to being free again, or is he scared to leave. One is easier to sort than the other, of course.”

“I’ve seen trauma before, both physical and mental. I think it’s more mental. He’s definitely settled. He stopped asking if he could use the kettle pretty quickly and he cooked himself some dinner last night. “So he feels safe with you then, that’s good.”

“It’s this Randall guy, isn’t it? Does he work on the force in the city, do you know?” She hadn’t had the stomach to research the captain who’d locked Jamie away out of fear. John had said a few things about him, none of them painting him in a favourable way, and she got the distinct feeling he was close by, closer than she, John or Jamie would like. Word of his release wouldn’t have taken long to reach the ears of the man who’d caused the incarceration.

“It could be. Yes, he’s based here. He started his career in London and was posted here only a few years ago. I can’t work out whether it was a promotion, though, or as a way to get him far away from Scotland Yard. Anything that takes place inside the Met is incredibly well covered - especially if he found himself on the receiving end of an internal dispute.”

Rolling her eyes, Claire tried to concentrate on the road in front of her instead of the increased rate of her heart as it beat a punishing rhythm beneath her chest.

“They’re the nations protectors, anything dirty that could diminish their name or cause them disrepute is bound to be buried as deep as they can possibly dig. He’s a good negotiator, a talker…”

“Have you met him?”

“Not in the flesh, but we’ll have attended some events together you can bet. The important thing, Claire is to your own hands clean - leave anything public to me and whatever you do, don’t underestimate the man. Jamie will, hopefully, at some point talk to you about his ordeal, but it’s only been two days. I’m sure he won’t hide away forever.”

Something in her gut told her that John knew more than he was letting on, but if he was keeping it from her, she reasoned, it was probably for good reason. Reaching her flat in double quick time, they both dropped the conversation as Claire opened the front door and waved John in.

“Jamie,” she called out, “we’re back.” Forgetting for a moment that he had no idea she wasn’t alone.

They waited patiently in the kitchen, putting as much of the food away as they were able to until both were convinced that he wasn’t going to come out to greet them. It was only when the creek of the bedroom door echoed along the hall that Claire finally let out the breath she’d been holding.

“John met me out and we thought there’s no time like the present, are you alright?”

“Nice to meet you,” Jamie finally said as he bought himself into the open plan living room, “and thank ye, for spending yer free time looking into my case for me, I dinna think I can thank you enough for that, really.”

The men shook hands cordially and John looked Jamie over seriously for just a moment before nodding his head. “It’s my pleasure, it’s what I signed up for and I knew when Claire called me that it must be serious for her to have stepped in and contacted me for help.”

“I willna cause you to regret it, Mr Grey.”

“John, please, and I’m sure you won’t.”

Dinner was a quiet but pleasant affair. Where there had been small bursts of conversation between Claire and Jamie since he’d arrived, now there was a continuous buzz as Claire and John joked with one another, leaving room for Jamie to join in as and when he felt comfortable. She’d made lasagne and despite John’s jesting at her culinary skills, it turned out better than edible.

“Well, as stuffed and warm as I am I think I need to get home. I have a long trial starting tomorrow.” Patting his belly, John placed his napkin on the table and finished his glass of water. With Jamie’s parole stating that he wasn’t to be found under the influence of drugs or alcohol, Claire had removed everything from her cupboards determined to join in with the sobriety order.

“I’ll walk you out…” Jamie spoke up as Claire stood to clear the plates.

“Alright,” she continued, a grin lighting up her face at his offer, “don’t be a stranger!” Winking as she castigated John for his random absences in her life, she plucked the last of the plates from the table and began to load the dishwasher.

Walking side by side to the front door, John took his coat from the hook and wrapped his scarf around his neck. “I know it isn’t my place,” he began as he held eye contact, raised his brow and smiled to put Jamie at ease, “but I have an inkling, just as she does, that there’s something more to this story than meets the eye. Don’t let her fool you, she’s good at being strong - she’s had to be. But you both need to stick together. Open up to her because if you let her in, I think you’ll find you have no regrets.”

Holding his hand out, Jamie nodded before he took it.

With one step out of the door, he swivelled on his heels to face him. “Oh, and one more thing, if you need anything at all, please call me. I’ll try and help in any way I can.”

As Jamie returned to the lounge Claire was finishing up wiping the table. “Everything alright?”

“Aye, more than alright...thanks to you.”

Chuckling, she shook her head as she threw the cloth back into the sink. “I wondered why my ears were burning. I’m glad John found something positive to say. Normally he’s just shaking his head at my poor choices.”

“Do ye make many of those?”

Embarrassment coloured her for just a moment as she was reminded of the diploma sat gathering dust in her bottom draw. “One major one.” “I think yer doing pretty well if ye’ve only one, lass.”

Taking a seat on the extended corner sofa, Claire let her head fall backwards against the cushions and waited for Jamie to sit beside her. “My father was a doctor, a really bloody good one, he saved the moment I was born, putting all the money into various bonds and accounts to make sure that I had any and every option once I reached an age to be able to choose.” Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself as she ignored the tears welling in her eyes, his warm presence extinguishing the pain of the memories. “Him and my mum died just before I went to college and if John hadn’t been there, I don’t think I’d have made it this far.”

“I ken how it feels to lose a parent. Ye feel as if yer heart has been torn clean from your chest as the world crumbles around you.”

As lost to her own grief as she was, it felt good to learn something about him, for him to feel relaxed enough to open up to her.

“Does John want ye to be like yer father, then?” He guessed.

“Nearly right, but not quite. I did.” She confessed. “He’s disappointed that I don’t rise to my full potential.” Quoting John’s exact words to Jamie.

“You’re a doctor?”

“Yes.” Sighing, she smiled sadly as she turned to face him. “But I still can’t bear to hear anyone say it to me because that title, those words, always belonged to him and I don’t know how to take on his legacy, I don’t know whether I ever will.”

“I haven’t known you for very long, Claire, but I do know one thing - ye have the biggest heart. You took a chance on me after treating me wi’ such kindness in the hospital. So if yer worried about no’ meeting the standards he set for you, just look in the mirror and I’m sure you’ll be able to see what I can see, what I’m sure John sees too, and ken that yer father would be proud of the woman you’ve become.”  

[lottalucamotion]

Stex Appreciation Month day 31: Nit Picks and What You’d Change

*Cracks knuckles*

Alright.

Once more this will be all text and no art since this is topic is probably better covered in words.

So basically I will be breaking down Stex into the way I would direct it if this was “Luca’s Starlight Express”. Some aspects will be full on changes, though most will just be a mix and match of aspects of different shows over the years that I liked.

So let’s begin this break down.

So first off I’ll talk about what seems to be wrong with Starlight and what the trends seem to show. I of course no nothing for sure, but this is just speculation based on rumors and little tidbits of information I’ve picked up on during my time in the fandom.

It seems like the biggest flaw that the show has is the lack of care, mainly by Andrew Lloyd Webber, for the show in general. While the show is heavily credited to have been created by ALW no doubt because he’s more the household name, Stillgoe is the one who really made Starlight what it is. Lloyd Webber was just reluctantly along for the ride. He was never fully on board with the idea of making Starlight a musical, and just intended for it to be a music collection for kids. It was to the point that ALW felt the need to put a disclaimer for critics saying that he didn’t really want to make it.

Starlight was always meant to be an audience entertainer, not a critic entertainer. From the minute it was conceived as a train musical on skates, it was damned to be crucified by critics, and well, the biggest issue with where it has ended up is the lack of acceptance to just let it be what it is.

This is not to say the show hasn’t always had some flaws. Where it seems to have always lacked is the story. It relied more on the spectical of being a series of being a roller skate show with music and races rather than a musical with a complex story and characters. Don’t get me wrong, this by no means implies the characters are not likable. The main cast has a lot of likable qualities even if they’re characterizations are fairly basic. In a sense this, give a chance for the audience to interpret the characters how they want. Though on the other hand it can also make the the main characters difficult to root for since their motivations are never really made clear.

In addition to that there are of course that matters of making certain characters out to be shallow stereotypes, and the critique that there is sexism in the story. Honestly, I think the poor direction in which the “fix” for the sexism critique is due to attention being paid too much to professional theatre critics who don’t actually want to give stex the time of day so they just say the story is sexist with no further elaboration, causing the direction to go blind into whatever the hell “I Need Me/Ich bin Ich” is.

Though not everything I would apply to my ideal stex is related to story. Most of it is just things are of no real consequence, just preference for this sequence or that song.

So now that this ramble is over, let’s actually get to the real meat of the matter.

I like the transition between the introduction of the nationals and Rolling Stock rather than starting with Rolling Stock.

I have a difficult time deciding whether Engine of Love should be Rusty’s intro or Call Me Rusty. I’m leaning more toward Engine of Love simply because I like that song more. Though putting in Engine of Love means that there won’t be any Whistled at Me variation. I would be okay with that even if I do love the pop version. Forgoing the “Dream Engine” plot point altogether honestly makes creating a more compelling characterization for Rusty and Pearl easy (Pearl’s dream train is a steam engine, and Rusty’s a steam engine so it just makes no sense why she would fall for and electric and diesel when she’s specifically looking for a steam engine).

So on that note let’s talk about what plot I have in mind for Rusty and Pearl. Pearl is a young excursion car who works around a lot of vintage engines for a luxury tourist line. Rusty and Pearl have known each other for a long time and promised each other that they would run their first race together.

While other engines are more inclined to be prejudiced toward steam engines, coaches find them quite romantic. However, Rusty’s physical state and the fact that he’s a switcher engine means that the coaches not only don’t believe he is capable of racing, but also believe it’s too dangerous for him. When Pearl agreed to race, she was not aware of how dangerous racing could be for Rusty.

Basically “Make Up My Heart” rewrite where Pearl makes the point that racing with Rusty could hurt him physically but she also doesn’t want to hurt his feelings.

It makes Pearl’s motives for leaving Rusty much less likely to be read as malicious, and makes more sense for their eventual romance.

As for Rusty, I prefer the writing going more toward how Rusty was originally written, more motivated to prove himself rather than racing to win over Pearl. Rusty’s reluctance to race coming from the fact that no one believes in him rather than just being rejected by Pearl. Obviously it stings the most coming from Pearl since the two of them were the closest, but she’s not the only factor. Maybe he even has thoughts that the coaches are right and he could get hurt.

Speaking of romances, let’s talk about Greaseball and Dinah. Dinah actions are likely the biggest sexism complaint source, and I won’t really deny that criticism. I get that we want everyone to get a happy ending at the end because that’s just the nature of this musical, it’s supposed to be light hearted and all. So if Greaseball and Dinah have to get together again, some justification should be given there, like implications that Greaseball and Dinah’s relationship beforehand is good and worth keeping even if just through the actors’ body language (like maybe Greaseball acting a bit more lovey-dovey toward Dinah in Pumping Iron rather than just having him treat her like all of the other coaches). Greaseball can still be a general asshole without being mean to Dinah. They can still have an argument about Greaseball’s cheating, but instead of having Dinah immediately backpedal to try to beg him out of leaving her, it should be an agreed action, where Dinah willingly leaves Greaseball as well as him leaving her. 

Greaseball should also at one point show some sign of remorse, maybe he notices her in U.N.C.O.U.P.L.E.D., watches her, thinks about it for a bit after she leaves, but shakes it off for the time being since he has a race to focus on.

Back on the subject of songs, for Lotta Locomotion, I’d love to see it with more subtle lyrics like “A Lotta Locomotion” but slap hard like “A Whole Lotta Locomotion”.

Bring back the original coaches. Yeah maybe Ashley is “outdated” and not PC but this is coming from the same people who put the confederate flag on the diesel gang and named the British Engine Brexit. I can’t fathom why they got rid of Buffy too?

I like all versions of ACDC and think what version would be best depends a lot on the voice of who’s playing Electra.

Red Caboose toaster hat edition - no Canoose. Also Killerwatt has no rights, I’d bring back the original components.

I actually really like the newer versions of the Rockies, I just don’t like the new Right Place Right time, the original version was the best in my opinion.

Even though I would include Caboose, I do like how Flat Top was given a more prominent story role without him, and would kind of like to emulate that.

Dustin should also be given more fleshing out in the first act, for example, having him sing “There’s Me”. While on one hand, having Caboose sing There’s Me gives more ways to think about his character, it just makes sense to give that comforting role to someone like Dustin (plus Dinah and Dustin being friends would just be the cutest shit ever).

Go back to the “Hey you” version of the Rap, none of this train Tinder bullshit we have now.

I usually hate the love songs in Stex but “I Do” is one of my favorite of all stex songs so that can stay as is.

Lastly,

Bring back No Comeback.

[ladyautie]

get to know me more!

@funyasm​ tagged me and I’m bored after writing my chapter, so here it is!

✨ what do you prefer to be called name wise?

My name’s Sophie. My friends call me Spencou or Spence. We met on a Role-Playing game forum where I played a character named Spencer. We’re used to call each other by our characters’ names and nicknames, most of the time. My brother calls me Sis’.

✨ when is your birthday?

15th november 1993.

✨ where do you live?

Paris, France.

✨ three things you are doing right now?

I’m watching an episode of AT4W on youtube, scrolling on Tumblr and I’m drinking a coffee.

✨ four fandoms that have piqued your interest right now?

Definitely It and especially Eddie Kaspbrak and the ship Reddie. I’m kinda obsessed right now, writing fanfic, reading fanfic, daydreaming about it and all.

I just played the Last of Us 2 and I’m currently watching a let’s play from my favorite youtubers, Mari and Stacy from Geek Remix. I’ll probably read a few fics as well.

The tv show Barry (HBO) is a definite special interest for me. I’m probably going to watch it all once again real soon and I’m planning on writing a fanfic or two in the future. I’m dying for the third season to come.

Finally, I’m probably going to be super into The Umbrella Academy once again, when the second season will be released. I’m just really into Vanya, Klaus and Allison and I can’t wait to see more of them.

✨ how is the pandemic treating you?

None of the people I know have been contaminated, so I’m lucky about that. I’m not quarantined anymore, back to work, and the transition is not easy. 

I feel like I’m more openly autistic than I used to be and that I can’t stand the rest of the world for a long period of time. I’ve experienced multiple meltdowns and shutdowns and I have real difficulties to socialize with most people or to focus on my work.

I feel incredibly naked and vulnerable whenever I’m leaving my flat without my mask on, so I think that’s definitely something I’m gonna have to work on in the future.

Leaving Paris and meeting my folks for my mother’s wedding, I found myself surrounded by people who mostly didn’t care about the virus, kissing each other on the cheek in true french fashion to say hello, hugging, not wearing a mask, not respecting any kind of social distance. 

I was quickly overwhelmed by all of that, plus the noise, and I had to isolate myself in my parents’ car, sobbing hysterically and willing to suffer in a overheated car if it meant having a bit of peace.

There are definitely going to be long-term consequences. I can only hope that my physical health will remain okay, though.

✨ song you can’t stop listening right now?

Keep On by Sasha Sloan. I just really love the lyrics and the message.

✨ recommend a movie.

Whenever I have to think of a movie to recommend, Frank by Lenny Abrahamson is the first one that comes to my mind. This movie is an obsession for me since the first time I watched it and I often find myself watching it again and again. Despite its heavy subjects, it’s definitely a comfort movie for me.

Too often, movies featuring mentally ill characters will aim for the characters to “get better”, which doesn’t mean for them to find healthy ways to cope with their issues, but usually for them to look more “neurotypical-like”, if you know what I mean. Frank  doesn’t go that way at all. On the contrary, it pushes the viewer to empathize with the main characters and to understand their point of view, their way of being.

It’s so incredibly comforting to watch a movie featuring mental illness realistic and not romanticized and to have the movie say “you’re different and you have issues, but you’ll find your tribe someday and be able to find your own happiness, even if it’s unconventional by society’s standards”.

I don’t know, I just have so much feelings about this movie. Plus the music slaps, the humor is hilarious (kudos to the random French guy who can perfectly understand English but refuses to utter a single word if it’s not in French) and the actors are truly on point (I can only salute Domnhall Gleeson, among everyone else who is also worthy of praise, because he definitely managed to make me hate his character in a way I almost never hated a character before).

Watch it!

✨ how old are you?

I’m 26 years old.

✨ school, university, occupation, other?

I used to be a librarian, but I couldn’t find a stable job in this field, so I passed an entrance examination and I’m now working in the tax administration. Yeah, not really glamorous, but it pays the bills and I’m accommodated for my disability, so it helps. 

✨ do you prefer hot or cold?

Definitely cold. When I was a kid, I used to swim in mountain lakes, at temperatures close to 13° celsius, and I still take my showers mostly cold. I can’t stand heat, I get headaches very easily when it’s sunny and I’m getting confused easily whenever it’s too hot. I recently had a nosebleed at work so intense that I found myself spitting blood (it went better once I got a fan, making the temperature bearable).

✨ name one fact others may not know about you.

I used to be allergic to my own sweat when I was around 18, until my early twenties. Whenever I was doing a mild physical effort or getting stressed out, I would get hives and itchy skin rash all over my whole freaking body, which was so exhausting that I would fall asleep immediately as soon as the rash was gone. 

It disappeared as suddenly as it appeared, without me ever doing something about it. I still don’t know why I experienced that and if I’m going to experience that ever again. I hope not.

✨ are you shy?

My autism makes social interactions complicated, but I’d say I’m mostly impaired by my social anxiety and the various traumas I’m dealing with daily.

Traumas I got after having been bullied pretty badly by kids and teachers during my school years, my stepfather being borderline abusive and different traumatic experiences, including my childhood crush dying from a ski accident when I was 15 or so (and me never being able to tell him that I loved him) and people betraying me so many times that I can’t even recall every little thing.

As a result, I find myself doubting constantly that I’m worthy of love, affection and respect and I often wonder when I’ll do or say the “wrong” thing that will cause me to lose everyone I care about. I also have a hard time knowing who I am and, as a result, allowing everyone to know who I am as well. 

I often don’t know what to say and will find myself keeping my mouth shut, even on topics I’m knowledgeable about, because I’m scared of people shutting me down, among other things. My friends make it easier for me to talk about things I like and all, but I’m still heavily doubting myself.

I try to challenge myself regularly. I’ll force myself to take part in events that are taxing or that are forcing me to perform in front of people. That’s how I found myself taking part in the casting part of the french equivalent of “American Idol” (I merely met the pre-judges, but I did manage to sing my whole song in front of them). I needed to prove to myself that I could do it.

✨ do you have any preferred pronouns?

I’m using she/her, but I don’t mind people using they/them to talk about me if they don’t want to be gender-specific.

✨ any pet peeves?

I hate how people can freely and openly be homophobic, racist, ableist, transphobic, sexist and so on, but as soon as I open my mouth to let them know that what they said/did wasn’t appropriate, I’m labelled as one of those “hysterical feminists” or a “party pooper”. s/ Sorry if your antisemitic joke isn’t making me laugh, my “dear” colleague... /s I hate whenever people infantilize me, especially my mom. She’s still keeping an eye on my bank account, despite me telling her that I didn’t want her to do so again and again. I don’t dare to block her out, because I’m scared of her emotional reaction.  I hate the ugliest parts of fandom, notably the obsession with “who’s topping / who’s bottoming” whenever there’s a gay pairing or the racism / ableism / transphobia / homophobia I’ve witnessed again and again.

I don’t dare to engage in the Last of Us 2 fandom because of that and the way some people describe the character of Abby (a very muscular woman), focusing on her physical appearance and calling her awful names (being downright transphobic when they thought that she was the transgender character that Naughty Dog announced there would be in their game). 

✨ what’s your favorite “dere” type?

I had to google it, because aside from Yandere and Tsundere, I didn’t know a thing about it. I guess you could say I’m a Dandere (someone who is quiet and asocial. They are afraid to talk, fearing that what they say will get them in trouble.). 

My favorite type is Kuudere though, when it comes to anime in particular (someone who is calm and collected on the outside, and never panics. They show little emotion, and in extreme cases are completely emotionless, but may be hiding their true emotions. They tend to be leaders who are always in charge of a situation.). 

My favorite anime character, Kiyotaka Ayanokōji from the anime Classroom of the elite, is the most extreme case I can think about. He’s completely expressionless for most of the anime, talks with a very dull voice and it’s impossible to know what he’s thinking about at all times or what’s his overall plan. His hidden depth makes him all the more fascinating. He managed to keep me interested in a mostly meh anime.

✨ rate your life 1-10. 1 being really crappy and 10 being the best you could ever be.

It’s a bit hard, but somewhere around 5 or 6? I went through tons of crap in my life but I’m still here and able to live on my own, even if my quality of life isn’t all that good. I live with nearly daily suicidal thoughts since I was a teenager and have to compose with my meltdowns and anxiety attacks as well. I feel “other” most of the time and I can’t relate to most people I’m meeting and interacting with, which can sometimes feel very lonely.

On the other hand, I have wonderful friends who are willing to put up with my trauma crap and are overall amazing to talk to and be around. I have a cat I love dearly. They’re the reason why I’m still alive to this day, giving me a reason to say fuck off to my suicidal thoughts. 

✨ what’s your main blog?

My main blog is Ladyautie and is about autism. I have another blog, reddie-4-more, focusing on the It movies and Eddie Kaspbrak and Richie Tozier.

✨ is there anything you think people need to know about you before becoming friends with you?

So, uh, don’t be weirded out by the kind of things I can tell you about my past. Even if it seems a lot, all of it is definitely true. 

For example, I was almost kidnapped when I was around 8 or 9 by a random guy, while I was camping with my father. 

My father and my paternal grandmother actually kidnapped me and my brother when I was around two and I stayed with him until the social workers determined that my mother had to raise us again because our well-being and overall life were threatened. 

Lots of events of my life seem far-fetched or out of a movie / a book or something and I had people telling me that I must be lying or that I’m over-exaggerating, something that always hurts deeply.

I’m terribly awkward and more or less openly autistic, so you’re definitely going to notice something different about me. I can’t change for you and I’m not willing to hide my traits only to make you feel more comfortable about frequenting me, so if you can’t handle my socially anxious and disabled ass, then just leave.

I need people to actually tell me what they think or feel. I’m very “first degree” and I’m pretty bad at guessing what people are thinking about. Don’t be afraid to be frank.

Finally, never, and I mean never, infantilize me. I’m a 26 years old woman. I’m not a kid.I’m fine with my friends offering to help or making sure that I’m okay or so, but never assume that I don’t understand something and don’t force your help on me if I say that I’m okay.

That’s it, those who want to take part in this exercise, don’t hesitate!

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #302

“heaven ain’t close in a place like this”

What color are your eyes? Grayish blue. What's your favorite type of milk? If we're talking the basics, ig 1% is fine. What would you change about your appearance if you could? Oh, hunny, you got time for an essay? What would you change about your bedroom if you could? I need to fucking finish decorating it... It's not finished by no fault but my own laziness. Are you rich or poor? We're definitely pretty poor. Are you double jointed? I don't think so. What's the most physically painful thing you've ever experienced? I once had a large infected cyst that had to be drained by applying pressure to it, and I swear to Christ I don't know how I didn't faint. They gave me morphine and multiple numbing shots, but none of that did SHIT. I'm not even embarrassed by the fact I was shrieking and sobbing and swearing because I'm pretty fucking sure any sane person would've cried out many times. I'm convinced they either didn't numb me enough for someone of my size back then, or I should've just gone under for it. I have no words for how painful it really was. Do you like shots? Uh, given that nobody LIKES getting a shot with a needle, I'm going to assume you mean like, taking shots of alcohol, in which case I've never tried, but I can almost absolutely guarantee you I'd hate them. I hate the taste of alcohol (hence why I only drink sweet and weak stuff), sooooo, I've got my doubts I'd enjoy something so potent. Are you afraid of spiders? Yes and no? Small ones don't tend to get to me, and I LOVE tarantulas. Big spiders are absolutely fascinating and I love *watching* them, but if I was surprised by a sudden spider, I'm going to probably cry out and jump/scramble away. But on a real note, respect your spiders, whether they scare you or not. They are so important to the ecosystem. See one in the house, take it outside if you can. Have you ever had an allergic reaction to something? To some earrings, yes. I have to wear ones that don't have silver in them. Do you like to read? Yeah, but not nearly as much as I did as a kid. I'm even slacking on WoF lately... Do you know what your purpose in life is? *SLAMS FISTS ON TABLE* BITCH I WISH I KNEW What's something you would like to improve at? Not being a socially anxious catastrophe. Do you believe you have great potential? Everybody does. You just have to use it. What is the most beautiful scenery you have ever beheld? Probably the mountains when driving to Tennessee. Or New York? I really can't recall either so clearly as to have a favorite. Are you flexible? Noooot anymore. Back in my WiiFit days, I was a gotdamn snake. List a song lyric that you like. Oh Jesus, don't make me think. Uhhhhh there's so many. Flipping through artists in my head with lyrics I tend to love, there's Otep with: "hey, hey, NRA, how many kids did you kill today?". Simple, but spine-chilling to me. Huh, time to listen to it actually, lol. That song murders me with the goosebumps. Do you meditate? No; I can't. You can't tell me to "free my mind," man. It's way too hectic at all times up there. What's one place you've been to that you want to visit again? I'd love to go back to Chicago one night when I actually learn how to do nighttime urban photography. What's one place you want to go that you've never visited before? I always answer "South Africa" to questions like this, so for variety's sake, I'll say the Bahamas. But a conspiratory bitch is afraid of the Bermuda Triangle, so... lmao. What's your favorite type of tree? I like big, impressive weeping willows. How many times have you seriously injured yourself? Only two occasions I can think of immediately. Maybe there's more, but idk. Did you attend Sunday School as a child? Yeah, even though I hated it. What is the longest your hair has ever been? Maybe a little passed the small of my back? What about the shortest? (not including being a toddler or baby): How it is now and has been for a couple years: shaved short on the left side, and it transitions to a length near my chin as you go to the right. Have you ever smoked a cigarette? No. Are/were you in the school band, and if so, what instrument did you play? I did, and I played the flute. I'd choose the saxophone if I could go back. Who does the grocery shopping in your household? Well, it's just Mom and me, so her. If you were to donate to charity today, what would you donate to? One that focuses on ovarian cancer for Mom. What is your favorite card game and when was the last time you played it? Even though I was never great at it or knew every single rule, "Magic: The Gathering" is honestly really fun, and I loved looking at the card art. I haven't played it since I was with Jason, so at least five-six years. Would you consider yourself to be good at spelling and grammar? Yeah, but I've somehow gotten worse with time???? I question the spelling and tenses of words I write a lot. What is your favourite seasonal candy? (only available at certain times): Probably like, chocolate rabbits. NOT hollow. Way to break my heart. Or gingerbread cookies. What was the last chocolate bar you ate? I think a Hershey's? It was a while ago. Who was the last person you talked to on Skype/video chat? I was in a Zoom session with multiple people for my partial hospitalization program. Have you ever dreamt about sleeping with someone other than your partner? If so, did that make you feel embarrassed? I've never had a dream like this while in a relationship. The last time you had butterflies in your stomach, what was the reason? I have no idea. Has anyone told you that they miss you recently? No. Has anyone ever asked you out or told you that they liked you, and you rejected them? Can you explain why you didn’t like, or didn’t feel attracted to that person? There was this one guy in the 4th grade who asked me if I would go out with him so much it almost became like a joke. I just... didn't like him like that. Then there's Juan; I'd just been warned that he had a bad rep by a very reliable adult, and the idea of dating him was kinda... intimidating anyway. Plus he was a smoker, which was and still is a no-no for me. What part in a movie would you love to play? The clinically insane villain or something because I feel with my history, I could channel that very well IF I actually wanted to act in the first place. What piece of furniture have you replaced the most? The couch. What’s the best part of your favorite movie? When Simba walks up Pride Rock in the rain and roars and all the lionesses join in. Chilling. What do you think is the most over-rated candy ever? Candy corn is repulsive. What was the highlight of your day? My mom was raving to one of my therapists in the PHP about my art and how badly she wants me to just get everything out there. I was smiling really big but looking down with how shy but also flattered it made me. Do you know anyone who is anorexic? I don't think so. Who has hurt you the most this year? Ha, myself. What's the last insult someone said to you? Hm. How much did your car cost? N/A What is the last picture you received on your phone of? Uhhh Mom mighta sent me a meme or Sara showed me a drawing someone made of Suriza, I think. Have you ever let someone go because you thought they deserved better? No, though I've felt that way before. Is there anybody you're really disappointed in right now? I'm still not over the fact Dad was a druggie before me and my sisters, apparently. It's almost like... hurtful in some weird way? Idk exactly why, it's just something I know I feel. What do you hear right now? I have Motionless In White's cover of "Somebody Told Me" playing in another tab. Do you do anything to help the environment? I do what I can as someone who isn't financially independent and reliant on another person for transportation. I won't litter for anything (and this includes shit like letting balloons go in the air, fucking stop), I'm trying to use my metal straw always in place of plastic, and to use less plastic bags, I try to spread out the times I clean Roman's litterbox to a few days; not to the point it's disgusting or uncomfortable for him, of course, though. Three days without is pretty much max. When's the last time you did something you knew was wrong? Ha, a little while ago... I was trying to avoid eating the two last biscuits Mom made for dinner 'cuz I really gotta lay off the carbs, but Mom "joked" that "it's your birthday, you get to do whatever you want," so I kinda just said fuck it lmao. Do you think that you have a pretty smile? No, because my eyes squint badly, and I also hate my teeth. When's the last time you cried over a guy? A few days ago a little bit, actually. I was reminiscing too much and recalling some of the warmest memories. Are you scared to lose the person you fell the hardest for? I already did. Oh well. Is there someone you wouldn't mind kissing right now? Yep. Do you have any friends that actually model? No. Do you care about the last person you kissed? A fucking lot. Do they care about you? Yes. Is there someone you wish you were with right now? Yes, just because of past birthday memories. I keep hoping a "happy birthday Britt" pops up in my FB messenger, and I hate myself for it. Have you ever imagined how it would feel kissing a certain someone? I legitimately just huffed in humor, guess, lmao. What are the bad things you've heard people say about you? That I'm a martyr, going nowhere, lazy, not trying hard enough, y'know, all that good stuff. Do you flirt a lot? Definitely not. What phrase or saying do you use the most? Probably "oof" lol. What mood are you in right now? I'm doing pretty all right. Kinda dreading Miss Tobey coming over, mean as it is, but I just... don't wanna deal with her and her judgments on my birthday. But I'm looking forward to seeing my sisters, and therapy went very well. Have you ever kissed someone that was high? No. Do you have a good relationship with your mother? Yep. How many exes do you have? I only consider two exes "serious," as I've only been in two deep and long-term relationships, but if we're counting everyone who's had the label of "boyfriend" or "girlfriend," there's six. Do you want to be single or with someone? Ugh, I don't know. It's probably better I don't 'til I figure my shit out, but I really do miss the companionship a lot. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed? Because I love her and I was leaving her at the airport. Does your mom think you’re a virgin? She doesn't know for the same reason I don't, really. I think she leans towards I am, but idk. Is there someone that wants you to give them a second chance? I don't know. What size bra do you wear? Uhhh I genuinely don't buy bras enough to know this exactly. C-something. Does the person you last kissed still like you? I don't know if she still like-likes me. Are your parents still together? Noooo. Was your first time good or bad? I dated an Italian, if u kno what I mean. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Which friend-turned-enemy do you miss the most? Colleen, sometimes. Have you ever used an epi pen, and it worked? I have not. What is on your top priority list for today? Make this fuckin' day for me. I'm trying to not let the depression sink in and make me feel worthless on today of all days. So I'm trying to stay in a positive headspace. Do you own any sand art in a jar? Omg, those are so cool! But no. Does the sun come in your window in the morning or at night? Not really; there's houses in the way. What was the last piece of art you created? A drawing of a meerkat with its mouth open angrily, done with colored pencils, against a black background. It's on my second dA. What time of day do you take medications? I have prescription meds for when I wake up and at bedtime. What's your newest hobby you've started? A new hobby? Huh... What are some things you wanted to do that your parents didn't let you do? They wouldn't let us stay home alone until a certain age, we had a timer on the TV at bedtime to shut off after a while, we weren't exposed to certain music or shows, no cursing... stuff like that. What YouTube channels do you recommend? This is a BAD question to ask me, 'cuz I could just about recommend channels for just about any niche. I watch soooooo many. What is your favorite day of the week? Tuesday, because it's reset day in WoW, haha. Meaning, I get to do my stupid mount farming raids again for the week. Blackhand, gimme your FUCKING clefthoof already. Ballet or cheerleading? Ballet is beautiful. What are your favorite sports to watch? Only dancing, really. Were you ever in the marching band? No. Which holiday has the best decorations, in your opinion? My contrasting aesthetics make this hard, haha. I love Christmas with all the beautiful light displays people can make, but let's not sleep on Halloween, y'all. I loooove Halloween decor, like c'mon, that's where I get shit for my room year-round, lmao. What do you want to be known for? It'd actually be kinda cool if I built up some sort of rep in the vulture culture community with my photography of roadkill. For how few shots I actually have on there and minimal interaction, my Instagram for it is doing quite well, if you consider those factors. They've gotten some pretty decent attention on dA, too. I would love for people to know why I do it though, of course: awareness and respect for the animal's life. How often do you wear make-up? Almost never nowadays. Think of the person you are jealous of...what are you jealous of them for? She's actually making a career out of her photography. Do you have art that you made in high school? Oh, plenty. Do you have trauma in your past? *clears throat* take a fuckin seat Favorite type of frosting? Chocolate. Have you ever tried cake decorating? No. One of my sisters is actually one, though! She's great at it. What clubs are you a part of? None. What was your favorite book that you had to read for school? The Outsiders. 6th grade, to be exact. Do you like to read classics, or do you usually read new arrivals? I don't prefer one over the other, honestly. Were you a big partier in college? No, I never partied. Is your college one you would recommend? My most recent one, fuck yes. They're amazing and care so deeply for their students. Would you go camping in the woods alone? Yikes, no. Would you name your kids after anyone? If I had a son and I had my way with the name, he would be named after the Most Selfless Man in the World, Damien from WKM. :'''''( Do you have any supernatural gifts? No. Are there any good churches in your town? You're asking someone who has a bad relationship with religion. Do you want an indoor or outdoor wedding? It really depends on the season and venue my spouse and I pick. Do you think you would be a good salesperson? HEEEEEEEEEEEELL NAW fam. I ain't pressuring people to buy shit.

[kpopfanfictrash]

Operation: Intelligence

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Hoseok / Reader

Word Count: 2,819

AU: Spy 

Dialogue Prompt: “Not the time for a costume change!” (slightly tweaked to fit with dialogue lol)

↳ part of my AU drabble game

“So.” Bored, you glanced between the two men before you. “This is a summer camp. For spies.”

One of the men winced. The other remained perfectly still, his mahogany hair perfect under the blunt, fluorescent lighting. You always noticed the lighting first. Lighting, then people, then scenery – in that order.

As though you’d said something funny, the first man smiled. “Ah, no. We prefer the term intelligence operative to spy. Has a nicer ring to it, you see?”

The other man didn’t move. He simply watched from behind his dark-colored glasses. There was no label to the lenses, no brand name in order to be instantly recognizable.

Of course, their kind would prefer the term intelligence operative. Stifling an eye roll, you chose not to respond. Spy, intelligence operative, hit man, criminal – whatever they chose to call themselves, it didn’t matter to you. Their trade wasn’t glamorous, no matter what modern movies and novels would have people believe. Growing up on the streets with parents who were grifters at best, thieves and con artists at worst, you knew the cops were never your friends.

You were only a few years into adulthood when you packed both your little sister and yourself into a hotwired car, sped from their driveway and began a new life. Your parents’ adventures had thrilled you when you were younger, but once you grew up, all the fun disappeared. There were only so many times you could come home from school to a threat by some thug named Benny insisting your parents owed him or his employer money.

As soon as you left their driveway, you vowed never to return and yet, here you were.

A liar, betraying the vow you’d once made.

Twisting both hands beneath the desk, you let no trace of emotion cloud your features. Slipping into the lessons you learned in childhood proved astonishingly easy. 

Observe, but don’t react. Deduce what others do, then adjust your behavior. Don’t reveal your intentions, but only show others what they wish to see.

The second man at the table seemed to exude a similar philosophy. Admittedly, he did it in much better clothing than yours. His suit was impeccable; double-breasted with a handkerchief pressed to its pocket as though it had been born there. Maybe it had been; maybe it was sewn into his suit, as firm as the stick shoved up his ass.

Your lips twitched as you suppressed a smile. The mahogany-haired man seemed to notice this, inclining his head in a manner which dared you to smile again.

Meeting his gaze, you did. “I see,” you said, returning to the first man.

Already, you had the two of them pegged. 

The first man was their marketer, a transition man designed to make you feel comfortable with the lifestyle change. The second was present to ensure you didn’t get too comfortable. This was a classic good cop, bad cop strategy.

Truthfully, you needed none of it. Their organization was your only option and if you failed, it was more than your worthless life on the line. The thought made your stomach twist unpleasantly. 

Unbeknownst to them, you harbored a secret. This was the reason you couldn’t relax, couldn’t let your guard down for even a second. You were in an organization of spies, no matter what they chose to call themselves, and you were here to spy on them.

This wasn’t the first time you’d been approached by their kind. Before though, you had always rejected their offer. 

Your parents’ lifestyle had never been of interest, no matter the price or the handsome men in suits sent to woo you. For yes, the second man was handsome, this was undeniable. The mahogany-haired man had a high forehead, sloped nose and soft-looking lips. On anyone else, these features might have been an eclectic combination but on him, they were beautiful.  

Instead of looking his way though, you focused on the first. The marketer. 

“What would my training entail?” you asked, as though this was what gave you pause.

The man nodded, like he truly cared about your worries. You could tell by the way he shifted, the way his feet pointed towards the door, the man was already thinking about being somewhere else. Talking to you was only one stop in his insurmountable day. 

He needed to interrogate the recruit, eat his lunch, attack a mountain of paperwork, yell at a few subordinates, drink three Jameson and cokes at the bar and have sloppy sex with Sharon before passing out in his bed. Shower, rinse, repeat.

You hated to keep him from all he had to do.

“Well.” The marketer shuffled his paperwork and barely did you keep the smile from your face. You’d noticed upon entering the majority of it was blank. “The usual. You’ll be tested physically, mentally and in practical application. We’ll assess your current abilities, identify any gaps and then assign you a specialty.”

“Specialty?”

He nodded. “Technology, weapons, information gathering, etc. We’ll tailor your coursework to your specialty, according to whatever use we might have for you.”

Hearing this, your lips thinned.

“I mean,” the man hastily said. “What areas we have which might suit you best.”

He didn’t mean it. You knew the moment you joined this organization, you would belong to them in every sense of the word. They wouldn’t care about your interests or wants.

As though the man’s words were placating, you nodded. “And who is this?” you asked, looking at his silent partner.

The marketer tensed. “I – er, Hoseok,” he said.

No additional information was offered and you arched a brow. “Pleasure to meet you, Hoseok,” you said, scanning him quickly. “I see you fit the strong and silent stereotype.”

Much to your disappointment, he failed to take the bait. Instead, Hoseok lifted his chin. “Why are you here?”

“Hoseok!” The first man’s eyes widened. Some of the color drained from his cheeks; Hoseok had just made his job even harder. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Hoseok can be blunt. A field operative, you know how they can be –”

Cutting him off, you said, “Why am I here on Earth, or in this room?”

The marketer shut up.

Hoseok did not flinch. “I’ll take either answer, if you have them.”

“To survive as long as I can. As to why I’m in this room....” You trailed off, then waved a hand. “I assume you’re referring to the fact that I’ve declined your invitation to join this organization several times?”

“The way I see it, we’ve extended you offers before.” Leaning forward, his elbows slid forward on the table. “My superiors see you as an asset.” Hoseok paused, as though to emphasize how little he agreed. “Each time you’ve turned us down. Why would you accept now? What’s changed?”

His sunglasses hid his gaze, which you found annoying. Intention was difficult to hide in the eyes. Hoseok pushed himself to sit more casually, one arm draped over the back of his chair and ones leg crossed over the other. Despite his relaxed posture, his muscles were tense, as though ready to pounce.

“What’s changed,” you said, since this was a loaded question. “Nothing, I guess. The end of a life I once knew.”

Hoseok didn’t flinch. “You mean, the death of your parents.”

If he was trying to bait you, you didn’t take it. 

“Yes, that.”

With a sigh, Hoseok removed his sunglasses. Without them, his face made your eyes widen. Truly, he was gorgeous – which made you wary. He wore his beauty like a knife, revealed only when needed to cut down those in his way. Hoseok’s gaze was lidded, searching as though he could carve the truth from your lies.

He could look all he wanted; you would not cave.

“Why would that change things?” Hoseok’s gaze across your face. “Based on our intelligence, you’ve had little to do with your parents for the past five years.”

Be like stone, you told yourself. 

Stone could not break unless there were cracks in its foundation. You were solid, unyielding. Shifting on the uncomfortable leather seat, you lazily crossed one leg over the other. 

It satisfied you when Hoseok’s gaze darted ever so briefly to your legs.

“That’s true,” you agreed. “I hadn’t spoken to my parents in years before last week.”

Shutting your mouth, you swallowed. It was partly untrue and partly real, which tended to be the best type of lies.

While you took a moment to gather yourself, you also examined the brass buttons Hoseok wore. They were brass, yet hung with a weight similar to gold. It meant they were not average fasteners. Surveillance equipment, most likely.

Emboldened, you slowly uncrossed and recrossed your legs. You’d worn a dress to this interview on purpose. Hoseok’s cheeks flushed as you attempted to hide your smile. It seemed the feed from his buttons went straight to his contact lenses.

“My parents’ death was unexpected,” you said, refocusing. “As you so astutely mentioned, I never cared for their lifestyle. Their death, though… it changes things.”

For a moment, you found yourself truly at a loss. You glanced down to collect yourself, and actually did. The marketer nodded, as though in sympathy but Hoseok remained silent, unconvinced. It made you trust him more than the first.

“How did their deaths change you?” he asked, blunt.

You inhaled, images flashing again through your mind. You hadn’t let yourself think much of the day. The memory of your mother collapsed in the hall, shot dead the second she opened the door. The sight of your father slumped in the kitchen, a look of pure astonishment and confusion on his face. The bloodied note taped to their fridge, scrawled for you to find after the killer texted from your father’s phone.

It shouldn’t have been that way. Your parents were mediocre criminals at best. They shouldn’t have been killed in such a thoughtful, uncompromising manner. The bullet wounds in their bodies had been precise, placed in such a way you couldn’t doubt their marksmanship. 

No. Whoever ordered their deaths wasn’t the sort of person your parents usually dealt with – and yet, your family hadn’t seemed surprised by their attack. Your mother had opened the door for her assassin, for fuck’s sake.

Exhaling, you looked up from the table. “I’ve hidden who I am my entire life,” you said. “I’ve run from the law, from my parents, and everyone in between. Now, though...” You felt your hands clench. “I don’t want to run. I want to be useful in the only way I know how.”

Hoseok tilted his head and considered.

What you said was mostly true, but it also masked a lie. The final piece of the puzzle was your sister, whom you’d purposefully left out of the equation. The same madmen who’d murdered your parents had stolen one more thing. Your sister. 

This was the final line of the note you had found. Short and specific instructions: do as the men said, or your sister would die.

The first task you’d been given was to infiltrate this organization and so, here you were. Ready to lie, cheat and borrow just to force your way in.

Fingernails digging into your palms, you fought to keep your expression neutral. You needed them to believe you, you needed to be let in because if they cast you out, your sister was dead.

Finally, Hoseok nodded. The gesture was curt, without sympathy to his gaze. 

“Alright,” he said, glancing at his companion. “Feel free to draw up the paperwork. I approve.”

Hoseok stood and deftly removed his blazer. Shaking this out, he placed this on his chair and began to undo his buttons.

You stared. “This hardly seems the time for a costume change.”

Barely sparing a glance, Hoseok continued turning his shirt inside out. As he re-buttoned his collar, tucked the ends into his jeans and replaced his sunglasses with glasses, you could only stare. The transformation was instantaneous – international businessman to local IT worker.

Hoseok looked your way. “You’re not my only appointment today, Y/N.”

Before you could respond to this, the first man interrupted. “Right,” he said, fingers fumbling empty papers before him. “I’ll get you started, Y/N. You’ll go through a preliminary training assessment and then we’ll see, okay?”

He smiled brightly despite your clear lack of enthusiasm.

When you finally nodded, Hoseok reached for his phone and you took the time to examine him. The man was far too competent to be stuck in an office, like the marketer. It seemed Hoseok was the intelligence operative and yet, he didn’t act much like those in the field you were used to. He wasn’t crass, not at all overbearing and he seemed not to carry any visible weaponry.

Every move of his was smooth, polished and designed to blend in. This man was a professional and for the briefest of moments, you panicked. It was this type of man you needed to fool for your sister to live. You needed to be a better spy than the best of the best. 

Fervently, you hoped the entire organization wasn’t as competent as Hoseok.  

Standing, the marketer shoved reams of paper into his bag. As he moved towards the door, you made to follow, only for Hoseok to place a hand on your arm.

“A moment,” he said, as though he had all the time in the world.

Although your feet stopped, you kept your gaze on the door. “I thought you had another appointment.”

Hoseok chuckled. “Dominic, please leave us.”

You watched the other man, and to your surprise, he nodded and swiftly left the room. The door fell shut, leaving the two of you alone beneath fluorescent lights. 

Warily, you turned to face Hoseok.

He stared back, his gaze shrewd and calculating. “I still don’t trust you,” he said, letting go of your arm.

“Bully for you,” you said. “I didn’t ask.”

“You did, though. The moment you walked through the door. Am I wrong?”

He wasn’t wrong. The fact you responded to their invitation after all these years meant you wanted him to accept. His ego seemed large enough for the both of you though, and so you stayed silent.

His eyes gleamed. “I’ll take that as a no.”

Unable to stop yourself, you snapped, “I agree. I agree you shouldn’t trust me. Trust goes both ways, though and I still have no idea why I should trust you. Why I should bring my skills to your organization over any other.”

“A valid point,” Hoseok allowed. “If somewhat juvenile. What do you wish to know about me?”

Thrown by his statement, you could only blink. “I – how long have you been a part of this organization?”

“Since I was six.” Hoseok spoke smoothly, as though the question no longer fazed him. “My turn. What are you hiding?”

“Many things. None pertinent to this conversation, though.”

“Spoken like a spy.” Hoseok glanced at his watch. “You’ll find, Y/N, that you are out of your league here. No matter what rudimentary skills your parents taught you, they won’t be enough, and eventually you’ll find yourself behind.”

You bristled, but Hoseok didn’t seem to notice.

Stepping closer, his lips hovered inches away from your ear. “I anticipate you’ll leave within the first month,” he murmured.

Glancing down, you realized why Hoseok had removed his blazer. Whomever had been listening to his mic wouldn’t be able to hear this.

“You’ll fail because either your anger will burn out and you’ll cease to remember why you came here in the first place, or because you’ll fail. Or,” he added, gaze meeting yours. “There is a third, even worse option.”

"Which is?”

Hoseok paused. “The option that whatever drove you to accept is far more sinister than my colleagues imagine.” His gaze became steely. “Trust me, Y/N, if this turns out to be the case, you’ll dearly wish you’d never set foot through those doors. I’ll draw up the paperwork to kill you myself.”

Something about the way he spoke made your blood boil. 

“You do that,” you said , stepping closer. “You keep worrying about me and whatever my ass is doing, and I’ll just worry about proving you wrong. Yes? Until then, stay the hell out of my way.”

Hoseok smirked. Turning around, he bent and picked up his blazer. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” he said, folding it over his arm.

“And why not?” you demanded as he walked away.

He paused with one hand on the handle. “Didn’t they tell you?” Hoseok asked, glancing over his shoulder. “Didn’t they explain why I was part of your interview panel?”

Mutely, you shook your head no. A not unpleasant chill traveled down your spine.

Hoseok smiled and for the first time, it seemed real. “It’s because I’m your partner.” He pulled open the door, warmer light flooding in from the hall. “Good luck with your evaluation. I’ll see you soon, Y/N.”

With that, he stepped out and your stomach sank to the ground.

  ↳ part of my AU drabble game

[imma-talk-back]

Yesterday, I was called a Nigger.  Within mere minutes of being in my favorite store, it happened.  Without warning, a gentleman bisected my path and seemingly reflexively blurted it out.  It was if the word had a life of its own and was pushing forth from his mouth at a full sprint. I say this not to emphasize the innocence of the man, but to shed light on the immense power of that word. 

Yeah... I thought that’d get your attention. 

Frankly, I’ve always been one to prefer Target to Walmart.  I appreciate the structure and organization of the store, and though I am a person who thrives in areas of “organized chaos”, I’m afraid, I find Walmart to be a little too chaotic for my liking.  As someone who suffers from The Big Bad Beast that is Anxiety, I experience a visceral uneasiness in certain environments, but generally speaking Target is one of few places I nearly always feel safe in.  There are of course the antsy customers who brush past me on occasion or ride my tail too closely in the checkout, but for the most part, to me, Target represents the epitome of comfortable shopping experiences.  It’s almost as if the structure demands it’s patrons to be on their best behavior.  Unfortunately, not everyone heed these demands... 

Please allow me to begin by laying the ground work; let me explain just how much effort I put into a simple trip to the market.  You see, one of the many awful things about this lovely condition that is Anxiety is that it has the potential to make even the most mundane tasks feel insurmountable.  A quick errand run the average person puts little thought into, can for someone like me, be a delicate tightrope walk; from the moment I leave the safety of my car and began my trek though the aimless herds of self-focused patrons, to the exact position of my body in accordance to yours, while in line.  I see you in a straight line, but I take several steps to the right or left, creating a meticulously crafted triangle between you and the person in front of me; all with the intention to grant me just a bit more security.  You see, I’ve been socially distancing since before COVID made it cool.  

Well, it’s about time I get to the point, isn’t it?  So, here goes...

So here I am.. and on top of dealing with my typical feelings of sporadic and unannounced paralyzing panic that may rise at any moment during my routine errand, whilst in the midst of none other than The Zombie Apocalypse that is 2020, I am the victim of an unprovoked physical attack in on of my few “safe” public spaces.  Notice, I consider this a physical attack, because of slew of negative bio-mechanical implications it presented me with, after all the word Nigger cannot be compared to that of Bitch, or Asshole. No, when spat with the right amount of hatred, the word surge through your veins like a poison. 

Thus, I instinctively stopped dead in my tracks and felt the heat of pain and rage radiate through my body.  I shook my head, dropped my gaze, and took several steps forward before stopping.  Rather than metaphorically quietly quivering in the corner, I decided to act. 

I turned around, sought out an employee, mustered up all the poise I could find, and collectedly said something along the lines of: “Hi, I just walked into the store, and within moments upon entering, a gentleman wearing a white blazer called me a Nigger.  I would very much like for him to be escorted out of the store”.  It was important that I used the full word to convey the level of discomfort I felt in having it thrown at me.  Perhaps that did the trick because the woman responded with a look of genuine shock, without hesitation confirmed the direction the man was walking towards, and urgently called for security. I said my peace and entrusted my safety in the store to the woman’s follow-through.  

It wasn’t the first time and I knew it wouldn’t be the last. I tried my best to continue on my journey as if he “hadn’t gotten to me”, but he had, I rush through the store, in search of whatever had prompted me to enter.  I can’t for the life of me remember, I imagine because I moved through the store in what can only be likened to a fear-induced haze.  I walked through the isles wondering if the gentleman would return and found myself looking at every Black passer-by, wondering if they had, or would soon experience the same. 

I power walked through the store with a combination of sorrow, profound fear, inexplicable anger, and incredible gratitude.  It instantly pained my heart to hear that a complete stranger could have so much hate in their’s for me, it still does.   Although I don’t imagine the N-word is typically equated with fear for non-Black people, for someone like me, it can be terrifying.  Despite the ever-so-obvious gravitas of that word, I know it hardly represents the tip of the iceberg of the hatred that lies below the surface.  As such, I feared retaliation from the moment I reported the gentleman, throughout the store, to my stop at the gym where I went through my daily workout routine, to the moment I drove home, parked my car, and double-checked the locks to all the doors at my house.  

Though this wasn’t the first time I’ve experienced this sort of overt display of hatred in a public setting, it was without a doubt, the first time I have ever felt seen enough to report it.  The death of George Floyd exposed just how serious the issue of racial injustice in this country is, and made it unmistakably clear just how prevalent, not to mention perilous it is.  After 34 years of just taking it, and doing everything in my power to “not let it get to me” or knowing “it’s just the way it is”, I finally feel seen enough to say; look this just happened, and you have the power to make it so this isn’t just how it is. 

You see prior to May 25, 2020, we could all live with a degree of ignorance in the matter; you could deny my life was actually different because of my skin tone and I could feign my perception of equality, but that shield has been lifted.  We have awakened from our socio-normative unconsciousness... That was deep, I know, but rather or not we choose to stay woke is up to us. The US needs a reckoning, regardless of if recent demands for equality stemming from the death of Mr. Floyd, Ms. Taylor, and Mr. Arbery can transition this moment into a movement, I am here to remind you of its importance.  You see, I was Black before you ever heard of those names and will continue to be such even when they began to fade from your memory.  I am here to remind you just how vital that demand for equality is.  

The fact of the matter is that the woman who essentially “came to my rescue” by respecting the seriousness of the matter was in shock not only the verbal brutality spewed, but also in part I imagine from simply awakening the reality that such an incident actually happened.  This brings me to my anger... you see I am beyond grateful for the fact that I can finally stand up for myself and declare something like this has happened and be taken seriously, but I am equally as enraged that in order to be taken as such, the entire world had to witness a man be crushed to death.  It goes without saying that, the level of enlightenment that the entire non POC (people of color) world is having right now is just as appreciated as it is enraging. 

On a final note, I want to draw your attention to the fact that I referred to the man who accosted me, as a gentleman.  There is certainly two contributing factors to consider in this; one I was simply raised right- with manners and respect for everyone, and I knew this man couldn’t have been in his right mind, and two, I knew the importance of remaining composed in even the most daring of times, to counter the very real likelihood of simply being written off as an Angry Black Woman.  Think about that... even in an assault, I must maintain my composure, because society says an emotional Black woman is an Angry Black woman, society doesn’t question her countless motives for said anger; no, it merely writes her off.  

Well... let this first blog entry be a testament to my Eloquent Black Rage--sitting posed, with perfect posture, well read, well spoken, highly educated in fact... with well manicured fingernails and an accented middle finger nodding to a less than subtle, “fuck you”. 

In close, I hope in writing this I have helped to explain the depth of feelings that stem from such a verbal attack, the long term impact it has, and that I have drawn your attention to just how often injustice occurs even when they are not spoken of or otherwise exposed. 

This is my very first Blog-entry, it originally started out as a wordy Facebook post, but decided I needed a more appropriate venue for my voice.  I sincerely thank you for reading and hope you continue to peek into my mind from time to time.  Congratulations, you’ve earned 10 Friend Points and good karma! 

[decorativedust]

HNK chapter 80 thoughts + analysis

I’ve been marinating on this chapter for a few days, and I have some things in mind for it that I’d like to talk about. 

This is just my take on things, and how I’ve interpreted them: mostly phos, aechmea, cairngorm, a tad bit of dia, and my thoughts on the fate of the series. 

Warning for: talk of suicide, spoilers. 

so I have a few very specific things I want to cover: Phos, Aechmea, Cairngorm, Dia, and the fate of the series. 

We’ll start with Phos. 

Personally, one of the biggest draws and attachments for hnk was phos’s transition from a sweet, naive gem to a depressed, anxious, horrifically warped individual. There’s not a lot of series out there where you can actually see a character become changed so drastically in such an intricate manner. I find character development, as a whole, to be extremely interesting. 

Phos’s transition has been building up for the entire series. They kept growing stronger, learned more- but continued to fail over and over again. They tried to make an encyclopedia, and failed. They tried to find a job for shinsa, and failed. They tried to help bring Ventricosus home and got betrayed and lost their legs. They tried to save antarc, and failed. Ghost was abducted trying to save them. They lost nearly all of their body. They couldn’t bring back the ground up gems. Their night raid was a failure and might’ve killed padpa. 

They’ve had a few triumphs- becoming stronger (although I’m ultimately not sure how much good this led to), giving the gems on the moon potentially happier lives (?), and help uncover more of the truth of their world. The gem abductions have seemed to stop entirely. And cinnabar seems to have finally reintegrated back into gem society through their efforts. 

Ultimately though, phos’s life has become full of constant efforts sustained on hope and bravery that almost always end in failure. At the end of the day, how could you not snap? How could you not become a self-doubting, depressed mess? In a world where everyone has given up on you in your efforts to stop the cycle of suffering, how could you not become the despair-filled person that Phos now is? 

I hope they get a satisfying ending. Phos has been fucked over from the beginning. They’re far from perfect, but I believe the things that ultimately drive them are kindness and a desire to end this cycle of pain for everyone- and I think that’s important to keep in mind. 

Now let’s go to Aechmea. 

This man really is an absolute lying bastard, huh? 

There’s no doubt about it- Aechmea straight up lied to EVERYONE about the fate of the other two societies (admirabilis and gems). Honestly, I’m not even sure the lunarians knew about it. I don’t think they did- he genuinely ran lunarian society on the operation that the gems and admirabilis would be around after they disappeared. 

Aechmea gives no indication that the fact that adamant will pray away all remnants of humanity is new information. It serves in Aechmea’s favor that he doesn’t tell anyone, either. While there’s certainly a few gems who likely don’t mind this fate (yellow), i imagine the bulk of admirabilis and gems wouldn’t desire such a fate. And how would the lunarians feel, if they found out the gems and the admirabilis would go with them, especially now that gems and admirabilis have all been on the moon for at least several hundred years at this point? 

Aechmea didn’t care if they took all the gem dust on the moon and tried to reform the gems. Aechmea didn’t harm any of the gems on the moon. He stopped abducting gems. He listened to their demands. Because ultimately, it didn’t matter! None of it mattered, because they’d all die alongside the lunarians anyways! 

I suppose I can find sympathy in their reasons for wanting to cross over to the nothingness. But at the cost of two entire other species? At the cost of killing so many other living things who likely don’t want to die- who don’t even know the fate they’re getting? Is there really nothing else that can be done? You got any lunarian therapy up there? 

Its a hard thing to discuss. Obviously I’ll never know the feeling of being given the ability to live for eternity. Could they have not chosen to build some sort of positive relationship with the admirabilis and the gems, rather than terrorize and use both of them for their own purposes? 

It feels so selfish. I suppose that’s not surprising, given how selfishness is just part of being human- or the personality and essence of humanity, at least. While selflessness is good, we all need a little selfishness sometimes. We need to take time to ourselves and do things for our own goods, rather than contribute ourselves 100% to others and completely burn ourselves out. It seems lunarians (or at least Aechmea) have selfishness in spades, to the point of being utterly apathetic to the fate of gems and admirabilis. 

Now onto Cairngorm. 

They look terrified and horrified the entire chapter. 

Cairngorm is certainly no stranger to the concept of death. They had suicidal thoughts during phos’s first 200 year coma (right after they’d lost their head), they brushed by death when their outer shell (Ghost) was ripped away from their body. They’ve outwardly expressed before how they want to go with Aechmea into the nothingness, and yet- here they are. Not excited, not happy, not anything near positive. 

There’s a giant difference between saying “i will die with you/i want to die” and actually, genuinely embracing death. Its so easy to say something, but so much harder to actually do it, and I think this is when cairngorm is actually, fully realizing this. 

I don’t know whether or not they’re suicidal anymore, but I imagine not. This is probably the happiest they have been in their entire life. Imagine finally overcoming the desire to die, to find a place that makes you so happy - and then to realize that you’re about to lose it all and become nothing. 

If there was ever a time for cairngorm to go against aechmea, its now. If we ever have a moment where cairngorm realizes aechmea lied to them, where cairngorm is finally going to become their own person without being under the rule and command of anyone else, it is now. 

Personally, I’m hoping they’ll somehow attempt to interfere and try and stop Phos, but I’ll cover this more when I talk about the fate of the series. 

Now onto Dia! This is probably the most lighthearted part of the whole chapter. 

They’ve finally shined under their own light. 

This is going back waaaaaaay far into the manga (like chapter 3), but we’re finally seeing some sort of resolution to Dia’s desire to become good at their own thing, without always being second best to Bort. 

I feel like Dia and Phos, at this point, had very similar feelings. Both felt insignificant and useless as a result of not being as good as a fighter as their societal expectations hold them to- leading to feelings of self doubt, and the desire to become better. 

A lot of people have called Dia selfish, for wanting to go somewhere where there is no Bort. Perhaps, a little bit. However, I don’t think Bort was purposefully trying to ‘show off’ and show how much better than Dia they are. They seemed to just be doing it out of the desire to protect Dia. But ultimately, Dia still felt very second-best to them, despite the fact that Dia should’ve been one of the best themselves. Yet their partnership was suffocating for Dia, constantly under the shadow of Bort. It just simply wasn’t healthy. 

But now Dia has found a thing where they’re able to shine under their own light- an idol!!! They seem really happy doing it. They have a whole crowd of adoring fans, too. (blows a kiss to the moon) this is for u dia u fuckin get em 

Finally, onto the last point: The fate of houseki no kuni. 

This really feels like we’re so close to the end, doesn’t it? But how close to that end are we?  As most of us are aware, chapter 80 is just the first chapter in volume 10. So, I find it very hard to believe that Phos is going to be successful in this particular attempt to get sensei to pray. A maximum of 21 minutes is certainly not enough time to tie up all the loose plotlines. What happened to Yellow? To Padpa? How are the earth gems? What about all the stuff that was happening between Cinnabar and Phos? What about the professor? etc etc im probably missing a few things, but you get my point. 

Personally, I think there’s either going to be a gem that wanders out and sees phos going apeshit, and manages to stop them. Or, we’re going to get interference from Cairngorm. Right now Cairngorm seems the most likely candidate, despite the fact that they aren’t physically there. (Boy, if they do that though, I’m afraid to see how aechmea will react.) But I don’t really find it hard to believe that one of the earth gems will wander out, unable or unwilling to sleep. 

Phos, obviously, won’t stop. They haven’t stopped trying for hundreds of years, why would they stop now, unless somehow they also bypassed whatever was preventing sensei from telling them “hey, you’re gonna kill everyone so maybe chill out”. I find it unlikely Sensei would do anything, however. He’s seemed extremely passive towards the gems lately (the most violent he’s ever been towards them was when he yelled at original goshe and morganite and accidentally shattered phos in like.. chapter 1) and aechmea said it himself- he doesn’t seem to be resisting. 

Ending it here feels so.. messy. I like to have a little bit more faith in Ichikawa as a writer. I’ve decided to trust her because she’s written a lot of other things extremely well. Maybe I’ll be putting on my clown wig in a few chapters, but we’ll see. 

[whumperwriter]

Whumptober #1 Shaky Hands

Fandom: Chicago PD

Whumpee(s): Jay Halstead, Antonio Dawson

Word Count: 927 

Author’s Note: Guess who’s back on her bullshit? (It’s me, I’m back on my bullshit.) Doing Whumptober last year actually motivated me to write the most that I had ever written before in my life. Last year I managed 35,000 words, with a goal of 500 words per day. This year I am upping the ante just a tad and am aiming for 501 words per day! (I’m such an idiot, but a whump loving idiot, so y’all are forced to love me anyways.) I’m gonna keep this short, because I know you’re not here to read me talk, so without further ado, Bubbly88Tay presents, Whumptober 2019!

(Feel free to support me by buying me a covfefe! Link here!)

Antonio looks down at his hands, shaking with the tremors that he has seen on so many addicts before. It was ironic that it had all come full circle, that he, the upholder of law and order, was an addict. He knows what he looks like. He recognizes the shaking and the cold sweats that plague him. It’s one of his few coherent thoughts as withdrawal plagues his system. 

He looks up weakly at the man who sits tied up in front of him. The rope is wrapped around his wrists and ankles, preventing any movement from the younger man. The rope wrapped tightly around his wrists have begun to dig in from all of Jay’s pulling and twisting. Even sitting a few feet away from him, and in his subdued state, Antonio can tell that the limbs are swollen and rubbed raw. Blood has begun to seep into and stain the ropes from where Jay has broken the skin.

The blood that had been previously running down his temple has since clotted. The wound coming after Antonio himself had been captured. The men had taken Antonio’s weapons and immediately used it against his teammate. Jay hardly stood a chance, the ambush had been quick and brutal. Antonio had been impressed by the three men that Jay was able to knock down before Antonio’s gun had been brought down hard against Jay’s temple. The blow had immediately knocked the fight out of Jay and the younger detective had dropped like a rock. The blood had left a trail down the side of his face. It had smudged over most of the left side of his face since the wound was made, likely in transit of the detectives. His eyes are bruised and his nose is swollen from the second hit of the gun, probably retaliation for the pain Jay had inflicted on the men. It’s probably broken, and all because Antonio couldn’t go two minutes about thinking when his next hit was going to be. It had physically pained Antonio to realize that if he had been slightly more aware this morning, then none of the following events would have happened. 

Overall, the state of his face scared Antonio slightly less than the bullet wound in Jay’s shoulder that was still sluggishly leaking blood. Despite the haphazard rag and duct tape bandage their captors had been so kind to give them some hours ago, the wound had persisted and soiled the bandages quickly. Antonio keeps straining to remember when the bullet hole had appeared, but he took it as a good sign that their captors had put some thought into keeping the men alive. 

Their captors hadn’t made an appearance in quite a while. Antonio can only hazard a guess based on the way they had become less dependent on the sunlight that filtered through the window as opposed to the light bulb that solely lit up the room now. The botched raid had started around eight in the morning, and now the sun was set. 

Antonio glances into Jay’s eyes. His eyelids are drooping heavily, and Antonio can see how hard the man is struggling to stay coherent. His once lazer sharp focus was now unfocused as he flicked his gaze up into Antonio’s own. Jay’s cheek jumps, and Antonio immediately picks up on the cue. Jay’s offering a slight reassurance in the form of a hidden smile. 

Despite the gesture, he can still tell that Jay is worried about Antonio. Antonio is sure that Jay would be talking right now if it weren’t for the duct tape that had been wrapped around both of their mouths when they’d been subdued. Jay’s probably figured out what's going on with Antonio by now, and is probably equally shocked and worried. But what can you do when you’re just a couple of buddies restrained to chairs. 

Hanks out there looking for them. There isn’t a doubt in Antonio’s mind. The leader of their unit is many things, but most prominently, he’s stubborn. He’s not gonna give up on his team, his family. Antonio doesn’t know if Hank has any idea the condition they’re both in, but he does know that he isn’t going to stop until he finds his men. Antonio can only pray that they’re still in Chicago, he knows that an interstate or even nationwide manhunt would take longer than either of them had time for. 

Another shiver wreaks havoc on Antonio’s aching body and Antonio zones out for a minute to try and not have to be in the moment physically. It’s almost to the point of being too much to handle. It gets worse the longer the day wears on. When the wave is over, and Antonio slowly comes back to his senses, he expects to open his eyes to Jay’s piercing gaze but what he finds horrifies him more than the entire situation that they find themselves in.

Jay’s chin is resting against his chest, his chest rising and falling with short breaths. The blood from his shoulder is stark in contrast to the pale color of his shirt and his complexion. Antonio follows the blood trail and feels a wave of nausea slam into him as he realizes that the blood has soaked into Jay’s pants and is pooling in the wet fabric.

Panic sets in for the first time as Antonio realizes how dire the situation has quickly escalated too. All he can do is pray that Voights coming and that he’ll be here before it’s too late for either of them. 

Tagging for posterity's sake - @whumptober2019​

[lyfestile]

U.S. Congressperson and former civil rights activist/organizer John Lewis was laid to rest today. His service took place at the historic Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta, Georgia, U.S. The ministerial home of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in the 50s and 60s, Ebenezer has a long history with African people’s struggle for freedom and justice. That’s why its surreal that we find ourselves in a place today where someone like Bill Clinton can be welcomed into the pulpit at Ebenezer to offer an opinion on the correct path African people must take to achieve our forward progress. Clinton, of course, was the 42nd president of the U.S. empire. His claim to fame while being president was fooling scores of Africans into believing that he was our friend. It wasn’t until Obama was elected in 2008 that some African people stopped referring to Clinton as “our first Black president.” Underneath the superficial character presentation of Clinton existed a politician who built, along with his wife and many other opportunists a colossal industry based on imprisoning African people in this country. The Omnibus Crime bill, passed during Clinton’s tenure in 1994, proliferated incarceration rates, primarily of poor and African and/or Indigenous peoples, at record rates. And, yet, despite that clear legacy of harm caused against our people, we still invite someone like this to speak in one of our most storied and respected churches.

As a result, it should come as no surprise that Clinton used his opportunity to honor Lewis by taking a swipe at the legacy of Kwame Ture (Stokely Carmichael). Ture, was the organizer within the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) who unseated Lewis as chairperson of SNCC in 1966, thus signaling SNCC’s turn towards much more militant politics. In Clinton’s words, this nation is in such a better place because Lewis refused to continue within SNCC after “Stokely.”

Of course, the position advanced by Clinton should surprise no one who has studied the history of this man. And, it was ironic that Clinton reminisced during his Lewis speech about “being with Jesse Jackson” because it was Jackson who was at the center of one of Clinton’s first clear indications of what type of snake he really was. During his 1992 presidential campaign against George H.W. Bush (the first Bush president), Clinton used a traditional Southern Strategy race baiting tactic to call out Jesse Jackson, who at that time was considered one of the leading civil rights leaders in the U.S. Clinton did this by making a public reference to Jackson having some type of political comradery with then so-called “Blacktivist”, rapper, Sista Souljah who had made a name for herself by calling out white supremacy in uncompromising terms. Clinton, in a direct appeal to bourgeoisie voters, primarily European ones, attacked Jackson at that time as pandering to racist African militancy.

In some ways, what Clinton said today about Kwame Ture is a continuation of those politics of respectability and accommodation. That the only right way we could ever advance our struggle for justice is by adopting positions that did not challenge the very existence of the power structure. Instead, the “responsible” way to struggle is always that of waiting, being patient, and working within the very system that keeps us oppressed. Clinton’s comments were opportunistic and designed to send a message to our people at a time when the very foundation of this system is being questioned in many ways. Clinton’s message? Don’t stray too far away from the master. Stay within this system and you will be rewarded. Resist, and you will be punished. It would be hard to find much fundamental difference between what Clinton said today and what Trump says every-day. Plus, its highly doubtful that Lewis himself would have agreed with the characterization that Clinton gave regarding SNCC’s direction in 1966. Now, I doubt there is even 2% of what Lewis believed that I agree with, but one thing I do know is that even after an initial period of distance after that 1966 election, Lewis evolved to a place where he eventually had a positive relationship with Kwame Ture. He even came and participated directly in the dinner honoring Kwame’s life shortly before Kwame made his own physical transition back in 1997.

The bourgeoisie are the spokespersons for the international capitalist/Imperialist network which is led by the U.S. And, Clinton is undoubtedly a member of the bourgeoisie class. Every U.S. president is a member of this class, including Obama. Their roles after leaving the presidential office are to continue to advance the values of capitalism, which cannot happen without also advancing white supremacy, patriarchy, homophobia, and all the forms of injustice that capitalism thrives on. Obama does this routinely as does Clinton. Its their class responsibility. The bigger problem is that so many of us have no understanding of history, and no desire to have an understanding, that when these people distort our history, we don’t have the tools to effectively push back. For example, if someone was to say, as Clinton did today, that SNCC, under Kwame Ture’s leadership (and later Jamil Abdullah al-Amin, formally H. Rap Brown, and then Phil Hutchings), went downhill and Lewis left to preserve some level of dignity while those wild Africans ran the organization into the ground, it would be necessary for you to have the proper understanding of SNCC history to place Clinton’s comments in the garbage can where they belong. You can do that by understanding what happened to SNCC after Kwame became the chairperson of the organization. What happened is the launching of the most recent Black power movement. The bourgeoisie want you to define that era in the late sixties by the hundreds of urban rebellions, but we employ you not to back down from that challenge. Even Dr. King knew that urban rebellions are the voice of the voiceless. In other words, when people are in pain, they lash out. When a child touches a hot stove, they don’t start singing a song and playing. Urban rebellions are reflections of this system’s inability or desire to change oppressive conditions, so people lash out. If people don’t want people lashing out, care more about people unjustly losing their lives than you do about property being attacked as a result of this glaring human contradiction. Besides that, what SNCC actually accomplished through the Black power movement was a mass awakening that we as a people have the right to exist in a manner consistent with our values and culture, regardless of how European society feels or thinks about it. Without that movement, there would be no Black Lives Matter movement. There would probably be no LGBTQ movement or women’s movements. No physically challenged movement. All of those evolved as a result of the Black power movement. And, that developing consciousness led to SNCC taking a revolutionary position against the Vietnam war. In fact, as quiet as its kept, it was SNCC that led the smash the draft movement. They were the ones who popularized the saying “hell no, we won’t go!” (a Kwame classic), and they were the first national organization at the time (with respect to the Nation of Islam) to take a national position against zionism and in support of the Palestinian people. Clearly, all of those things have advanced and evolved to become mainstream elements of the social movements you are seeing in action today and none of this could be happening without the contributions of the more militant SNCC, led in party by Kwame Ture. So, clearly, there was no moral imperative to part “from Stokely” as Clinton implied in his boring and absurd comments earlier today.

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