#the way I avoid some of her ships- not because i find it “icky” or “gross”- but because I genuinely cannot fathom seeing her with any man.

[suusoh]

oh nina fortner the repressed 90s lesbian coded character that you are.

[sneezypeasy]

Why I Deliberately Avoided the "Colonizer" Argument in my Zutara Thesis - and Why I'll Continue to Avoid it Forever

This is a question that occasionally comes up under my Zutara video essay, because somehow in 2 hours worth of content I still didn't manage to address everything (lol.) But this argument specifically is one I made a point of avoiding entirely, and there are some slightly complicated reasons behind that. I figure I'll write them all out here.

From a surface-level perspective, Zuko's whole arc, his raison d'etre, is to be a de-colonizer. Zuko's redemption arc is kinda all about being a de-colonizer, and his redemption arc is probably like the most talked about plot point of ATLA, so from a basic media literacy standpoint, the whole argument is unsound in the first place, and on that basis alone I find it childish to even entertain as an argument worth engaging with, to be honest.

(At least one person in my comments pointed out that if any ship's "political implications" are problematic in some way, it really ought to be Maiko, as Mai herself is never shown or suggested to be a strong candidate for being a de-colonizing co-ruler alongside Zuko. If anything her attitudes towards lording over servants/underlings would make her… a less than suitable choice for this role, but I digress.)

But the reason I avoided rebutting this particular argument in my video goes deeper than that. From what I've observed of fandom discourse, I find that the colonizer argument is usually an attempt to smear the ship as "problematic" - i.e., this ship is an immoral dynamic, which would make it problematic to depict as canon (and by extension, if you ship it regardless, you're probably problematic yourself.)

And here is where I end up taking a stand that differentiates me from the more authoritarian sectors of fandom.

I'm not here to be the fandom morality police. When it comes to lit crit, I'm really just here to talk about good vs. bad writing. (And when I say "good", I mean structurally sound, thematically cohesive, etc; works that are well-written - I don't mean works that are morally virtuous. More on this in a minute.) So the whole colonizer angle isn't something I'm interested in discussing, for the same reason that I actually avoided discussing Katara "mothering" Aang or the "problematic" aspects of the Kataang ship (such as how he kissed her twice without her consent). My whole entire sections on "Kataang bad" or "Maiko bad" in my 2 hour video was specifically, "how are they written in a way that did a disservice to the story", and "how making them false leads would have created valuable meaning". I deliberately avoided making an argument that consisted purely of, "here's how Kataang/Maiko toxic and Zutara wholesome, hence Zutara superiority, the end".

Why am I not willing to be the fandom morality police? Two reasons:

I don't really have a refined take on these subjects anyway. Unless a piece of literature or art happens to touch on a particular issue that resonates with me personally, the moral value of art is something that doesn't usually spark my interest, so I rarely have much to say on it to begin with. On the whole "colonizer ship" subject specifically, other people who have more passion and knowledge than me on the topic can (and have) put their arguments into words far better than I ever could. I'm more than happy to defer to their take(s), because honestly, they can do these subjects justice in a way I can't. Passing the mic over to someone else is the most responsible thing I can do here, lol. But more importantly:

I reject the conflation of literary merit with moral virtue. It is my opinion that a good story well-told is not always, and does not have to be, a story free from moral vices/questionable themes. In my opinion, there are good problematic stories and bad "pure" stories and literally everything in between. To go one step further, I believe that there are ways that a romance can come off "icky", and then there are ways that it might actually be bad for the story, and meming/shitposting aside, the fact that these two things don't always neatly align is not only a truth I recognise about art but also one of those truths that makes art incredibly interesting to me! So on the one hand, I don't think it is either fair or accurate to conflate literary "goodness" with moral "goodness". On a more serious note, I not only find this type of conflation unfair/inaccurate, I also find it potentially dangerous - and this is why I am really critical of this mindset beyond just disagreeing with it factually. What I see is that people who espouse this rhetoric tend to encourage (or even personally engage in) wilful blindness one way or the other, because ultimately, viewing art through these lens ends up boxing all art into either "morally permissible" or "morally impermissible" categories, and shames anyone enjoying art in the "morally impermissible" box. Unfortunately, I see a lot of people responding to this by A) making excuses for art that they guiltily love despite its problematic elements and/or B) denying the value of any art that they are unable to defend as free from moral wickedness.

Now, I'm not saying that media shouldn't be critiqued on its moral virtue. I actually think morally critiquing art has its place, and assuming it's being done in good faith, it absolutely should be done, and probably even more often than it is now.

Because here's the truth: Sometimes, a story can be really good. Sometimes, you can have a genuinely amazing story with well developed characters and powerful themes that resonate deeply with anyone who reads it. Sometimes, a story can be all of these things - and still be problematic.*

(Or, sometimes a story can be all of those things, and still be written by a problematic author.)

That's why I say, when people conflate moral art with good art, they become blind to the possibility that the art they like being potentially immoral (or vice versa). If only "bad art" is immoral, how can the art that tells the story hitting all the right beats and with perfect rhythm and emotional depth, be ever problematic?

(And how can the art I love, be ever problematic?)

This is why I reject the idea that literary merit = moral virtue (or vice versa) - because I do care about holding art accountable. Even the art that is "good art". Actually, especially the art that is "good art". Especially the art that is well loved and respected and appreciated. The failure to distinguish literary critique from moral critique bothers me on a personal level because I think that conflating the two results in the detriment of both - the latter being the most concerning to me, actually.

So while I respect the inherent value of moral criticism, I'm really not a fan of any argument that presents moral criticism as equivalent to literary criticism, and I will call that out when I see it. And from what I've observed, a lot of the "but Zutara is a colonizer ship" tries to do exactly that, which is why I find it a dishonest and frankly harmful media analysis framework to begin with.

But even when it is done in good faith, moral criticism of art is also just something I personally am neither interested nor good at talking about, and I prefer to talk about the things that I am interested and good at talking about.

(And some people are genuinely good at tackling the moral side of things! I mean, I for one really enjoyed Lindsay Ellis's take on Rent contextualising it within the broader political landscape at the time to show how it's not the progressive queer story it might otherwise appear to be. Moral critique has value, and has its place, and there are definitely circumstances where it can lead to societal progress. Just because I'm not personally interested in addressing it doesn't mean nobody else can do it let alone that nobody else should do it, but also, just because it can and should be done, doesn't mean that it's the only "one true way" to approach lit crit by anyone ever. You know, sometimes... two things… can be true… at once?)

Anyway, if anyone reading this far has recognised that this is basically a variant of the proship vs. antiship debate, you're right, it is. And on that note, I'm just going to leave some links here. I've said about as much as I'm willing/able to say on this subject, but in case anyone is interested in delving deeper into the philosophy behind my convictions, including why I believe leftist authoritarian rhetoric is harmful, and why the whole "but it would be problematic in real life" is an anti-ship argument that doesn't always hold up to scrutiny, I highly recommend these posts/threads:

In general this blog is pretty solid; I agree with almost all of their takes - though they focus more specifically on fanfic/fanart than mainstream media, and I think quite a lot of their arguments are at least somewhat appropriate to extrapolate to mainstream media as well.

I also strongly recommend Bob Altemeyer's book "The Authoritarians" which the author, a verified giga chad, actually made free to download as a pdf, here. His work focuses primarily on right-wing authoritarians, but a lot of his research and conclusions are, you guessed it, applicable to left-wing authoritarians also.

And if you're an anti yourself, welp, you won't find support from me here. This is not an anti-ship safe space, sorrynotsorry 👆

In conclusion, honestly any "but Zutara is problematic" argument is one I'm likely to consider unsound to begin with, let alone the "Zutara is a colonizer ship" argument - but even if it wasn't, it's not something I'm interested in discussing, even if I recognise there are contexts where these discussions have value. I resent the idea that just because I have refined opinions on one aspect of a discussion means I must have (and be willing to preach) refined opinions on all aspects of said discussion. (I don't mean to sound reproachful here - actually the vast majority of the comments I get on my video/tumblr are really sweet and respectful, but I do get a handful of silly comments here and there and I'm at the point where I do feel like this is something worth saying.) Anyway, I'm quite happy to defer to other analysts who have the passion and knowledge to give complicated topics the justice they deserve. All I request is that care is taken not to conflate literary criticism with moral criticism to the detriment of both - and I think it's important to acknowledge when that is indeed happening. And respectfully, don't expect me to give my own take on the matter when other people are already willing and able to put their thoughts into words so much better than me. Peace ✌

*P.S. This works for real life too, by the way. There are people out there who are genuinely not only charming and likeable, but also generous, charitable and warm to the vast majority of the people they know. They may also be amazing at their work, and if they have a job that involves saving lives like firefighting or surgery or w.e, they may even be the reason dozens of people are still alive today. They may honestly do a lot of things you'd have to concede are "good" deeds.

They may be all of these things, and still be someone's abuser. 🙃

Two things can be true at once. It's important never to forget that.

[carphoegras]

I don’t ship most of these myself , but your rant/ramble posts on Les Mis ships are funny so I genuinely wanted your opinion on these 👁

1. Enjoltaire

2. Valvert

3. Enjonine

4. Marisette (or whatever Marius x Cosette was called)

5. Javonine (Javert and…Eponine 😭)

6. Marionine (A name a just guessed for Marius x Eponine because I wasn’t bothered to look it up)

7. and uhhh.. Granjonine (I think that was the name)

well hello darling! i live to entertain lol lets get into it i might have to put this under a cut because i think its obvious i have a rambling issue

Enjoltaire : a classic for good reason. they seemed really base level to me at first because i watched the movie first, but once i read the brick and really saw their dynamic i fell for them HARD. for me the beauty of this pairing is really rooted in the substance of their individual characters as opposed to like a romantic relationship. idk its so difficult for me to verbalize why i love them so much i think i just love the idea of finding common ground despite difficulties. enjolras and grantaire mirror each other in such a beautiful way that i feel the musical/movie couldn't really capture without demoting it to a puppy love grantaire/mean enjolras dynamic idk i have such an issue with some portrayals of them because i feel like they create a victim/abuser situation where there wasn't one but that's like a whole post within itself anyway i feel like im getting incoherent i love exr with every fiber of my fucking being just read the brick if you don't get it ok the movie and musical just dont do it justice and for the love of god avoid the fics written in 2012/2013 after the movie hype its all wRONGGGG (i love you george blagden but you created a twink grantaire movement) (they pull each others pigtails okay its a mutual obsession) (enjolras why don't you just ignore him baby? glutton for punishment my dear we all know if you hated him you wouldn't let him hang around) (anyway) i should make a seperate post about my exr feelings bc i could talk ab them for hours

2. Valvert: okay this is where i feel like i can be unpopular with the fandom. i fucking hate this ship. like physically, spiritually, all that. its one of those that i kinda lose respect for the person bc its literally a cop/prisoner thing. its not enemies to lovers. its not a hate love thing. javert's a fucking cop. valjean is his victim. the whole idea of people romanticizing this makes me feel so insanely icky and i think the point of the story has just gone RIGHT over some folks' heads please take a step back and think about it. neolib behavior sorry not sorry

3. Enjonine: enjolras is gay. just like, straight up in the brick enjolras is a gay man. this ship is spawned from straight girls who saw aaron tveit and use eponine as their not like other girls posterchild. just a whole bunch of hetero nonsense. same behavior as the joseph quinn enj x reader bs. honey thats a homosexual man and can we please stop reducing eponine to needing a boyfriend she needs a stable home and a goddamn therapist fucking hell

4. Marisette: okay. i LOVE THEM. i'm a cosette stan myself, and i'm a huge fan of a gooey love at first sight situation. they contrast my love for exr in the sense that they're a very easy love. their parts in the book literally make me SWOOOOOON i can put aside my beef with marius as a combeferre kin to appreciate how sweet they are

5. Javonine??: im sorry wh aht. did the snape x hermione shippers leak into the lm fandom or am i being fucking punked im not discussing this its obvious why this is wrong please tell me its obvious y'all are NASTY

6. Marionine: eh. eh. i mean, like i said with enjonine eponine's problems are not gonna be solved with a dude. i'm really not opposed to them, persay, its just that eponine's love for marius is so incredibly dependent and rooted more in her personal trauma than actual love, so i feel a little weird with them sometimes. sometimes it just gives anti cosette vibes (cough cough bc of the bullshit love triangle angle that the musical markets cough cough) so i tread very carefully with them

7. Granjonine: again what in the damn hell. i'm not dignifying this shit they could be besties but for the love of god george blagden did a number on the straight girls. STOP PROJECTING ONTO EPONINE IM GONNA LOSE MY FUCKING MIND LEAVE HER ALONE

thanks for the ask lovely, i do love rambling even though these ships are baffling lmaoooo

[stankyler]

how is it not a red flag to you that your friend that you've interacted with for less than a year has alienated and harassed so many people who use to be her friend or people who disagree with her interpretations on the show. Remaining ignorant will not do you favors.

this is batshit insane.. i’ve also stopped talking to a lot of the same people because personally, i don’t like how they act! we dont “alienate” people for “disagreeing with interpretations,” we cut them off because they’re dicks about it.

i’ll tell you what i’ve seen in my few months active in this fandom again. i’ve seen ella willfully involve herself in one controversy; she expressed dicomfort over an au that highly fetishized cartman’s abuse of kyle. and i know it’s fetishized because the creator has claimed to ship kyman and personally, having that context (especially as a jew,) feels incredibly fucking icky. ella had every right to do this. that isn’t “different fandom views,” that’s an issue of genuine discomfort. after i expressed support that she spoke out, roostertuftart, who i’m sure you’re here on behalf of, booted me from her discord server. but no, we’re the one’s doing the alienating.

every other thing i’ve seen her get shit for has been the direct result of other people harassing her for her harmless interpretations. i have not ONCE seen her say anything like “masc kyle is an F Tier Take” or “people who disagree with my kyle interpretation are morally reprehensible.” both of which have been said about her harmless headcanons! and so she creates a long and well-constructed meta discussing exactly what canon material she uses to support her headcanon, because she’s passionate about it! but since everyone who disagrees with her thinks this is some kind of fucking playground battle they start going “oh she’s being passive aggressive” “she hates anyone who disagrees with her takes” as if it’s about you?

in regards to the callout post, yeah she could’ve done better. but even then, conflating the act of sending an nsfw fic link (which unlike fanart requires you to click that you’re old enough to see it AND to put in the effort to read it) in a channel that had minors in it with “interacting sexually with children” as if it’s real life fucking grooming is absolutely low. ella has clearly learned, as i know for a fact she actually goes out of her way to avoid interacting with minors online.

all the while ella has been very supportive of my opinions, even when they’re different from hers! she has shown me more kindness and patience than ANY of the people who claim to be on the side of internet safety, or claim to be above this “circlejerk” mentality they keep accusing us of. which- by the way rooster should understand is simply not the case, given his stated reason for getting in the aforementioned au debate was that he wanted to defend his partner from slander. but when we want to defend our friend it must be because we’re a clique right? get it straight.

the amount of anons i’ve gotten vaguely threatening that i shouldn’t trust ella because she’s a fugly slut but have not given me any proof of this “harassment” she apparently does is STAGGERING. and quite honestly, i find that to be proof enough that the people who so vehemently hate her are incredibly fucking childish. GET A LIFE!

[tailorvizsla]

Hi! I really love your writing, and I was wondering if you could write a story about Grogu interacting with mother!Reader, preferably from Grogu’s perspective? I love and simp for Din as much as the next horny life form, but I also have the instictinual need to mother and baby Grogu every time I see him on screen 🥺 Thank you!!!

Title: Little Cold Fingers Pairing: None intended. (Maybe there could be a hint of Din Djarin x OC if you squint?) Wordcount: ~1200 Rating: PG Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, AU (because the Razor Crest lives, damnit), blink-and-you’ll-miss-it bittersweet introspection Author’s Notes: Thank you for the ask, @zeuswasaslut​! I hope you enjoy this! Grogu muses about the woman he sees as his mother.  :D

Feel free to send in asks or requests! My inbox is open.

📚 My Master List 📚  

It was so cold.

Colder than anything he had ever known before. Even when he had been locked up with the Bad People, his little fingers and toes had never hurt from the cold like this before. For hours, white fluff had been piling up against the sides of the Big Noisy – Razor Crest, as Baba called the ship – while wind howled and screamed. The metal walls protecting them muffled most of the noise, but his ears still hurt when the wind grew shrill.

Grogu felt a familiar tickling in his nose and sneezed, tucking his face into his elbow. Just like Bu taught him to avoid spreading germs.

His cold ears lifted as Bu came into the room.

“Are you cold, little one?” she asked in her sweet voice.

He trilled at her, hoping she would understand his annoyance as he lifted his arms to her. Two very warm arms scooped him up. Grogu clung to the front of her shirt as she settled him into her warm, fluffy vest, buttoning it up until only his face and ears were poking out over the top.

“There we go,” she said, her voice a little bit muffled. “Better?”

He let out a cheeeep. Much better.

This is how he preferred being carried. This place right next to Bu’s heart was warm and secure. He could also watch everything that was going on. And maybe steal some bites of whatever Bu was eating or drinking. Bu went to the cabinet and grabbed her little basket of sewing supplies. Then she put his old pants down on the table.

How did she always find the holes in his clothes so quickly? He watched as she snipped off a piece of khaki thread and threaded it through the needle. She sewed the patch on quickly, her needle flashing in the dim light as it worked in and out of the fabric. She started to sing quietly. He knew this song and his ears perked up.

He tried singing with her, but his mouth couldn’t form the mouth noises right. So, he just made it up as he went along. Her happiness bubbled up like the fizzy water she bought in town, or maybe like those pretty yellow flowers they had picked a long time ago.

He started to giggle, unable to hold back his glee as the little flecks of Bu’s joy alighted on his upturned face like sunshine. Then Bu started to laugh along with him, and they shared their little butterfly kisses of joy until he couldn’t breathe and he forgot what song they were singing.

“One day, you’ll sing along with me,” Bu said, and he felt a flash of sadness, because that heavy presence in his chest told him that they weren’t going to have much longer together. He pushed it away. No matter how short their time together was, he would love every moment of it, and keep the memories near his heart.

“There we go,” she said, holding up his pants. “I wish I could get you some new ones, but…not this time, I think. Maybe next month. I should be able to sell some of my embroidery at the market. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

He cooed.

All that mattered to him was that she fixed them. Their family didn’t have much, but they were happy. He was happy, and that was all he cared about after so many years with the Bad People. No matter how many holes he accidentally put into his clothes, Bu always patched them up. Even if they ate the same thing over and over, his tummy was always full. (Having a full tummy never stopped him from hunting his favorite snacks, even if the wriggly ones made Bu scream a bit.)

Suddenly, the big door in the back of the ship sank down, letting a gust of ice-cold wind and snow into the ship. Grogu immediately felt a rush of pure elation fill him as Baba climbed up the long ramp, dragging a big bag behind himself. The bag was full of something but it was empty, the kind of emptiness Grogu knew not to ask about. Baba threw the bag into the Forbidden Room and locked the door. Then he came closer.

Grogu reached out with one hand and squeezed Baba’s icy fingers.

“Hey, kid,” he said. “Being good?”

Always.

He chirped and pulled his arm back into the safe, warm cocoon inside Bu’s vest. He sneezed. This time, he wasn’t able to cover his face in time, so he wiped his face with his sleeve. Icky.

“Is it still too cold?” Baba asked, and Grogu could feel his concern. It was prickly and sharp and made his nose tickle. He didn’t like it that much. Bu nodded.

“I think the heating coils have gone out again,” she responded. “I couldn’t figure it out from the cockpit.”

“Kriff,” Baba sighed. “I’ll get us out of here. Then I’ll see what I can do for repairs, alright? Keep him warm.”

“Aye,” Bu says, “Hear that, Grogu? You get to hang out with me for a little longer.”

He had no problem staying here where it was warm. Bu shivered. Grogu could feel her discomfort, and he grumbled to himself, tugging at Baba with that warm feeling in his chest. Baba paused. He reached up and unpinned his cloak. Then he draped it around them, nestling it around her shoulders.

“Keep that until I can get this icebox warmed up,” Baba said. “And you. Ask before doing that again. Remember what we said about privacy?”

Grogu chirped sheepishly and nodded. He did forget about that rule a lot. Good thing Baba never got angry with him. He closed his eyes and tilted his head up into Baba’s hand as he rubbed his ears. The Bad People pinched him a lot but his buire never hurt him. It made him feel very happy and safe.

Baba reached up and pinned the material into place, draping it around his head. Grogu relaxed as Baba went to the ladder. He wanted his ball, but he wanted to stay here more than he wanted his toy. He tilted his head back, noting the big smile on Bu’s face. He chirped. Maybe one day Baba would take his big shiny hat off for Bu.

Grogu yawned and wiped at his eyes. Then he pulled his head in and wriggled around until he was facing Bu. He felt her button up the vest around his head and it got nice and dark. Just what his eyes needed for a quick nap.

Even though he had only known his Baba and his Bu for just a few months, he had never felt this safe and happy before. He knew this was where his home was and where he was going to stay.

With those thoughts out of the way, Grogu drifted off, imagining all the wonderful, tasty food his Bu would make for him tonight.

-

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Tags:

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[vermilionwinds]

1. Foster

If Remeraux had to lie there for one more minute, she was going to lose her mind.

It wasn’t like she had much of a choice right now. The hard plaster around her collarbone made it so her entire world was essentially the ceiling of the captain’s quarters; raw and unadorned wood. Turning her head much farther to either side would upgrade the dull throbbing and skin-deep itchiness that had settled into her shoulders into full on daggers of pain, and so she’d given up on looking at the mounted helmets or sun-bleached portraits or any of the other interesting things hanging on the wall. She’d already counted all of the planks she could see (47), and then all of the knots in the planks (238), and at the moment the door creaked open she was pretending that the knots were stars and sullenly inventing new constellations for them (This was Xavier, the Stuffy; that one Ganzaya, Giver of Icky Medicines).

“Oh, Tygrysku. How are you holding up?” The voice was rough like sandpaper, yet musical like the wind in the reeds. She didn’t need to be able to see her mother to recognize her; only to hear her voice and the deep thumps of each booted footfall.

“How long do I have to lie here again?” Remeraux whined, her violet eyes darting over to Danifa as soon as her sea-worn face entered her field of view.

“Oh, weeks, Tygrysku.” Her mother’s smirk always twisted strangely around the two thick lines of scar tissue carved into her mother’s sandy maw; it looked on one side devious, the other side manic- all yellowed fangs. “If you had simply broken your arm, you would have been on your feet by morning. But, you had to go and break your collar.”

Remeraux puffed up her cheeks. “I don’ need another lecture.” She huffed, pointedly looking away from the Hrothgar woman and back up to her invented night sky.

“And I’m not here to give one. Your bones will be a better teacher than I, and much more insistent.” She felt the point of one of her mother’s claws teasingly jab her on the forearm, earning another huff. “No, I’m here to tell you a story.”

Remeraux’s eyes lit up. “Really? Which one? Derumir at the Mountaintop? Pyotr and the Brush of Colors?” She rattled them off, speaking a mile a minute, only to earn a deep laughter from her mother, that Remeraux could feel the bass of in her stomach.

“No, Tygrysku. This one is a new one.” The woman took the time to smooth the deep brown furs draped over Remeraux, the weight and warmth of her hands soothing (even if they did make her feel smaller than she felt already). “This is the story of Wieslaw, the Brave.”

Remeraux let her eyes settle on her mother, soaking in the way the candlelight danced in her sandstone eyes, how it illuminated red tattoos of curved geometric shapes, like the words to a song she couldn’t read the language of.

“Once upon a time, on the shores of Gangos, up on the rocks that stretched to tickle the bottom of twisting vines, lived a family of alermuc—eagles, Tygrysku. Every year, when the sun rose so high in the day that it’d disappear past the top of the rocky cove, the fledglings would line up to see if that year was the time that they would finally spread their wings and fly. One of these little alermuc was named Wieslaw, and Wieslaw had lined up every year. The very first thing she had done when she was born was to line up, pink and featherless, right behind all of the rest.”

“Really? Even as a baby?” Remeraux inquired, as she idly ran her tongue along the gap between her front teeth.

“Are you going to interrupt me throughout the whole story, Tygrysku?” Her mother cocked her head to one side. “Because I could just stop right here.”

Remeraux shook her head negative, as much as she could manage, and her mother cleared her throat.

“You see, Wieslaw knew that the hunters who came to the shore prized their feathers. It was important that the alermuc fly fast, to avoid the hunters’ arrows. Wieslaw wanted to fly the fastest out of all of them, so fast she could snatch the arrows right out of the sky, before they could find their mark. And so, every year she stretched her little wings, and marched right up to the back of the line. And every year, her mama had to pick her up with her beak, and place her right back in the nest. But when the sun disappeared back up past the top of the cove, there she’d be all over again.”

“One year, she saw them coming in. Feathers of brown, sturdy ones to replace her fluffy white ones. Wieslaw was convinced that this was her year. She practiced her flapping, until she could leave the ground higher and higher. And then, in the middle of the night, she decided she needed to try. After all, how could she convince her mama to let her try when she had never so far? And so, she stood at the edge of the rocks, stretched her wings out as far as they could go...”

“And? And did she fly?!”

“Of course not!” Her mother chuckled. “She tripped and fell on the rocks. And oh, did she cry Tygrysku! ‘Why can’t I do this one thing, no matter how hard I try?!’ She sobbed, until her mama woke up and scooped her back up, and placed her back in the nest like she had every time before. And she cooed, and nuzzled her feathers with her beak, and told her that no flower bloomed, no rock was worn to sand because it wanted to badly enough. But also, the seed would not be a seed forever. With time, you will soar as far and as fast as you could ever dream, and you will look back on the days you spent on the rock as a silly little memory.” Her mother tucked her in, poking blankets under either side of her, and Remeraux let out a contented, cozy sigh.

“And did she fly, mama?” She asked, eyelids already heavy from sleep.

“Of course she did, Tygrysku. Because of her, even now you’ll find the shafts of arrows amongst the twigs of birds’ nests.” She gently booped Remeraux on the nose with one padded fingertip. “Now get some rest, my love. You’ll have a lot of staring at the ceiling to do tomorrow.”

“...Can you sing me a lullaby...?” Remeraux mumbled, and her mother gently stroked her brow.

“Of course, Tygrysku.”

As Remeraux closed her eyes, she drifted off into the rolling of the ship and the soft thunder of her mother’s voice and was asleep before she’d reached the chorus.

[thebluelemontree]

As a teenage girl, Sansan, Sanrion, and Sansa x Petyr are all gross to me. I don’t understand how ppl like you ship them because the scenes you guys read as romantic like Blackwater read to me as sexual assault. Even if Sansan got together when Sansa was older, I wouldn’t be able to see it as anything but successful grooming. Sandor is only 3 yrs younger than Petyr & he’s making sexual comments about a 12 year old’s breasts like men that have catcalled me. Her dreams are abt trauma, not romance.

First, let me say how sad I am to hear that you’ve been the target of catcalling especially at a young age. I’ve been in a situation where an older man used his position of power at a social gathering to trap me into hugging him so he could kiss me on the cheek. This was after another incident where he had put his hand on my thigh and I was actively trying to avoid him. I completely understand how icky and shaken it can make you feel when that kind of attention is aimed at you. It still sticks with me some 15 years later. And I know a lot of people in the Sansan community can relate as well from the stories I’ve heard from them. If I, or a lot of other Sansans I know, had been there when you were catcalled, that pervert would have had the fear of God put into him for messing with a kid like that. Men like that are absolute garbage.  

Your feelings are totally valid. I’m never going to say you shouldn’t feel a type of way about some ships. I have my squicks too. There are some ships I’m like *gag* “Nope, not for me.”   

I’m a little concerned, though, that you are seeking and engaging with fandom content that seems to really upset you and reminds you of your horrible experience. For your own well-being, I’m strongly advising that you don’t do this anymore for a number of reasons. Please, please, please take care of yourself first. There is nothing in fandom that is worth you having to relive experiences that have negatively impacted you. You can curate your dash to block out as many of those blogs (including mine), tags and keywords as possible. If you can’t stay away from it, you might need to ask yourself why that is. Another reason is that there are very unsavory types in anti circles that want to harness other people’s real life trauma and encourage them to believe it is their moral obligation to engage with potentially triggering content to fight against things like real life sexual assault, pedophilia, and predatory behavior. No real life victims are saved or helped by going after fandoms you find objectionable. If people in your circle are making it seem like you are being a good soldier in a noble cause by sending me an anon message like this, I would seriously think about what they want from you, why they aren’t concerned about your well-being first, and if this is a healthy way to be spending your time. Time you’re supposed to be enjoying things and having fun.  

Under normal situations, I would say if you wanted to understand why I shipped something, I’d say go through my sansan meta tag; however, I think we’ve established this is probably not a good idea for you. So don’t. You don’t need to understand me or anyone else in any of those other fandoms. Just walk away. 

I see that you could still potentially be a minor (under 18), which is why I’ve responded with patience and understanding. This is where I need to get a little stern with you.

I think we can both agree from your message and my response that harassment of any kind is not okay and it doesn’t feel very good to be on the receiving end, does it? So why do you think it’s okay to send people anon messages implying they are bad people for shipping fictional characters? I realize you could have worded it with far more incendiary accusations, and thank you for not doing that at least, but I can still feel your judgement and contempt for me personally. 

I just want you to know that I do not care what you think of me, my ship, other ships, or how you interpret the text.  Not even a little bit.  I don’t care what your interpretation of the Blackwater is because I disagree and I think you’re wrong. Period. I may feel empathy for you because of your horrible experience, but I do not care about anything else you said. I’ve already laid out my responses to interpretations like yourself in great detail in the past. I do not need to explain myself to you or anyone else any further. 

Furthermore, ASOIAF is not a series created for a kid or YA audience, even if it features young characters. It’s thoroughly adult content written by an adult for other adults. You enter at your own risk. We are not adult fans invading your underage fandom space with our ships. Absolutely no one is obligated to make their fandom a safe space for you. I can and will ship whatever the hell I want, and I don’t care how it makes you feel, when you are not taking any responsibility in curating your own dash. I am not your parent. I am not responsible for you. I don’t owe you safety and protection from shit that offends you. And it shows great audacity on your part to come seek me out instead of spending time on blogs that make you happy to complain that you don’t like how I keep my house and foist your unsolicited opinion and judgement on me. 

Honestly, for you own good, I hope you are taking this to heart to cease harassing blogs in the future and potentially doing yourself harm by engaging with content that upsets you. It’s totally 100% fine for you to not like certain ships for whatever reasons you want. You can rail against them all you want on your own blog if that’s how you like to spend your time. By all means, block me if you haven’t already, but knock off the anon bullshit and leave people alone. 

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E98 (March 10, 2020)

Be warned: there are spoilers for the most recent episode below!

Tonight’s guests are Ashley Johnson and Travis Willingham!

Announcements: On Monday at 7 PM Pacific, there will be a special Doom: Eternal one-shot! VOD will be on YouTube on Wednesday. We’re one week away from the release of the new campaign book, Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount!

Episode 98: Dark Waters

Stats! 124 days passed between the Nein’s voyages at sea. It’s been 77 days since Fjord’s pact was broken. Fjord took 40% of the damage taken by the Nein and the crew (Yasha took second-most at 21%).

What’s it like RPing dream sequences with Matt? Ashley: “It gives me the fear.” They both agree it’s a panic feeling first, and then you get excited to see where he’ll go. Travis: “All cognizant thought goes out the window.” Ashley feels like she rushes it sometimes to avoid keeping the attention on her too long, and Travis dreads the open-ended questions: “What do you do?”

This is the first time Travis has had to wait a week to find out if his character will be revived. “Aside from analyzing the fight, it’s been okay, just because we’ve got two dope-ass clerics who feel pretty strongly about Fjord, so I hope we’re in a good place.” He’s mostly concerned about the intangibles and what they don’t know. He didn’t know the orb was still in him---he thought it was destroyed or reset when he threw away the sword. He’s worried that if they try “the normal cleric stuff”, it’s not going to work. He does almost prefer fights that are just dropped on them out of nowhere, because the anticipation is often the most stressful part.

Ashley’s still not sure if she has the feathers or not, since that was in a dream. “Building the character, I didn’t know that would be a possibility for that to change.” It’ll have to come out in the game. “Outside of that, I think-- obviously there’s a lot of healing with the group, but I think in terms of Yasha’s relationship with the Storm Lord, she’s still figuring that out. It’s very tough love, which she’s getting the tough love from the Storm Lord and the familial and kindness and love from the Mighty Nein. So that combo is going to be really good for her to turn things around. I don’t think she’s ever really had a feeling of worthiness outside of maybe being loved by Zuala. So I don’t know what that looks like for her yet, but we’ll see. I think she doesn’t fully know what her purpose is yet.”

Did Travis anticipate a confrontation with Uk’otoa back on the sea? “No, I’m a fucking moron. I didn’t think of that at all! I don’t have anything the ol’ snea snake wants anymore.” Brian: “Yes you do!” Travis: “I didn’t know that!” Dani: “The dark seed of power in you the Wildmother saw?” Travis: “I thought it was metaphorical! Well, now that you say it like that...” He wasn’t upset at all. “More than anything I was just trying to plan my branch narrative for what was going to happen next. More than anything, it became clear that they had just massive intent to come and kill me. I mean, Matt played it beautifully, so even in moments where I was disappointed in myself, like forgetting that enemy characters can hold their turns.”

Cosplay of the Week: a dramatic cape-flaring Fjord! (Ming.of.mings, photo by Rsellos, makeup by Omglobnunu, all on Instagram)

Travis: “The thing that hit me the most was when it came over and it grabs Fjord’s body and starts to walk him off the side of the ship, I was like, Mercer, what the fuck, man! I’m already dead! Give me a second!” He notes that they haven’t done a resurrection ritual yet in this campaign, only revivifies. Losing the two death saves when getting stabbed while unconscious was the moment when he realized how significant the intent was here. Everyone notes how clutch the Counterspell was.

On Jester and Beau showing concern for Yasha’s wellbeing: “I think for a lot of people, sometimes accepting compliments makes you uncomfortable. I’m one of those people. It’s a weird thing for Yasha to hear, because even in her tribe it’s not like that was a normal way of communicating with each other. Only compliments she would have gotten about how she looks or her character as a person were from Zuala. I think, especially with Jester, she’s such an open character that has so much love to give, just bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, just refreshing to be around, they’re all teaching Yasha very, very positive ways to feel and accept that.”

They talk about the way the improvisation can lead to poetic parallels like Yasha and Fjord falling/rising. Ashley: “I feel like so much of that is Matt, and he’s such a masterful storytelling.” Travis: “It’s such a gift, too. He’s giving you something new in the story that you created, and so you have instant ownership of this thing he made just for you.” Ashley: “You just hope you can meet him where he’s at.”

On Yasha’s harp: “Music is a very huge part of my life. I’m using the harp as, yes, for self-care for her, but also I think music can be a form of therapy. There was a moment where I was like, man, it would be so fun to multiclass as a bard, but then I remembered my wisdom is so low... it wouldn’t work. And I actually had talked to Matt about it. There’s more that I want to explore with that, and I don’t quite know what it is yet. I think where it sits right now, it’s a form of therapy for her. I’d been wanting to give her positive things to do to try to pull her out of this place that she’s in, and I think it’s really helpful.”

Seeing the sword again: “I think more than anything, it just unsettled Fjord. There was nothing about that that was easy to adapt to: seeing the sword, and then seeing multiples of the sword, just wondering who is this, what do they have, do they have abilities, what am I missing, how much do I not know about it?” He was initially worried that it was Avantika come back to life.

Fan Art of the Week: Caleb, Caduceus, and Fjord during the fight! (CreativeBleu on Twitter)

On Yasha having a lot of run-ins with creepy people: “I think a lot of that is because of the way I rolled the character, I rolled really low for Yasha’s stats, which is a bummer. She’s very susceptible because of that to being swayed, as we have noticed with Obann and things that have happened in her past. That’s maybe something that she puts out there, where people pick up on that. There’s obviously still and probably will always be a bit of darkness in her. I think people like Icky-thong and Lord Sharpe and people like that can pick up on it. I wanted to play a character like that anyway, I wanted to play somebody with a little darkness in there. I do think it is a source of frustration for her, and that’s where a lot of the guilt comes from.”

Has piecing together Caleb’s past changed Fjord’s opinion of him? “No, not at all. Maybe it’s just me, but seeing how much pain Caleb carries with himself from his past-- if he was flippant about it, that might give him pause, but he’s so fucking tortured about it. He can’t harbor any ill-will or confusion about where his heart lies. He’s full of regret, there’s a real person in there. I think also Fjord is like, I don’t want to be defined by my past, it really, really sucked. Every day since Fjord started with the M9 has been continually the best days of his life, and I think the same is probably true of Caleb. There’s no judgment because that doesn’t help anything. He just want to observe, absorb, acknowledge. You’re making positive changes, and that’s everything. That’s heroic, despite what you think is monstrous. That’s not who I see.” Brian talks about how life can end “when you choose to be defined by your worst moment”. Travis: “People that chain themselves to their past obviously haven’t moved beyond that past, and that process looks different for everyone.” But he believes you should get to define who you are after you’ve moved past that.

On the few new lighthearted moments with Yasha: “I think it’s the comfortability of the people around her. I think it’s just getting more comfortable with everybody, and also it’s just... I don’t know. If I think of something that I think would be funny, I’ll probably say it, but try to keep it in whatever Yasha’s sense of humor would be.” She notes some similarities to Grog. “She’s absolutely a teddy bear on the inside. She sees so much beauty in the world. I love playing those contradictions. She’s always had a sense of humor.”

How does Fjord define being a “good man” now as opposed to the start of the campaign? Initially, it was Vandren: “tough love, not overly emotional, not really available in that way, but conveyed a strong sense of leadership, knows what he wants, is focused, driven, stalwart, dependable, a lot of those bullshit male ideas. Some have value and some are just misplaced. If you try to live up to the idea of somebody else, you’re often going to find yourself going down a path that doesn’t look very familiar. Fuck it, I’m going to be me and see what that is. He’s got the agency. Maybe you just try and be you and hope that’s a good man.”

[thefandomlesbian]

Ship Questions!

Hotch/Reid

Domestic 🥰

(Also, I’m a huge fan of all your writings! Thanks for sharing 💜)

Thank you! ❤️

Sorry, this got pretty long!

1.) If they get married, who proposes?

Aaron does. Spencer is very comfortable not being married ever, and it's Aaron's drive to ensure Jack is in good hands in the event of his death that pushes him toward marriage. Spencer doesn't exactly want a wedding, but he knows Aaron is traditional and it's important to him, so he goes along with it.

2.) What's the wedding like? Who attends?

This could go one of two ways. 1.) They elope to Las Vegas so Diana can attend and invite literally no one else.

Or, more likely, 2.) They throw a BAU wedding in DC. JJ is the maid of honor and Derek is the best man. Rossi walks Spencer down the aisle and Gideon officiates. Rossi cries. Jack is the ring bearer and Henry is the flower girl.

A mostly unfamiliar face shows up, strolling up during the reception after the ceremony while Spencer is talking to Rossi and Derek. Spencer recognizes him first. "I don't want you here."

William is holding a brochure, pointing to where Rossi's name is listed as the father of the groom. "I would've come if you had called."

"I didn't want you to."

"You could've called," he insists. "You didn't have to write me off like this."

Derek goes to intercede, but Rossi catches him by the arm. "Hey, Reid," he says, looking quite mild. "There's one fatherly lesson I haven't taught you yet."

"What's that?" Spencer is confused at this assertion.

"How to throw a right hook."

William is on the floor, Aaron is covering Jack's eyes, Emily is cheering, JJ is trying to drag Spencer away, Gideon is getting Rossi some ice for his hands, and Strauss is pressing the bridge of her nose trying to decide if they can somehow make this a lawsuit for the bureau or if this is going to create more paperwork for her somehow.

Aaron invites a handful of old lawyer friends and Sean, who does reluctantly show up. Spencer invites his professors and teachers and Ethan. Several of them greet him with, "Oh, I haven't seen you in so long! You've gotten so tall!" which yields the question who was that person, and the answer is always, "A professor from my first doctorate."

3.) How many kids do they have?

In most timelines, only Jack. Spencer doesn't have any desire to spread his genes with his sketchy health history, and while Aaron wanted a bigger family with Haley, he knows it wouldn't be fair to do this to another child, the inconsistent hours, the lack of presence, and besides, Jessica wouldn't agree to free childcare for another kid. Spencer is okay with not being a father in the traditional way, and he's still someone who is very important to Jack, not to mention Henry and Hank and (insert baby name because I reject JJ naming her second child Michael).

But there is another timeline where they've discussed it. Spencer wants to be a father, and he tells Aaron that, and they aren't really sure how to proceed—with their line of work and histories, they aren't eligible for adoption. They look into surrogacy, but Spencer again doesn't really care to pass on his genetic material, and Aaron is having a very hard time shaking off his Catholic upbringing that makes him feel super duper icky and weird about something of his growing inside a woman he doesn't actually know that well and then that child being his and not part of her. They're at an impasse when, on a case, there's a break when a woman is found disemboweled in the dumpster while her newborn infant is wrapped in a plastic bag. There is no family after identification. Social services comes to take the baby, and they both feel like maybe this is some sign from the universe and they're missing out. Later that night when neither of them can sleep, Aaron rolls out of bed and calls the social services contact, and the baby is still floating around the office, not having yet found a foster family. So they take her.

It's several years of paperwork as they transition from foster parents to adopted guardians of Haley Diana Hotchner-Reid. Spencer steps down from the BAU to become a research professor full-time, and he finds cures for antibiotic-resistant bacterial illnesses. He invents a vaccine for tuberculosis. He has a routine schedule, so he's available for the kids all the time, and Aaron doesn't have to leave his job to have the family he wants.

4.) Do they have any pets?

Usually, no. Aaron is afraid of dogs. Animals don't like Spencer. Aaron grew up in rural Virginia, so he likes the idea of having horses like he did when he was young, but they don't have anywhere to put a horse or farm animals, and while Spencer fantasizes about having a farm, he thinks horses and cattle up close are terrifying. But occasionally they wind up with a cat, or even two cats if they're adventurous, and Spencer does a lot of research to start appropriate fish husbandry with a giant, well-kept aquarium where he teaches Jack all about how to properly care for fish (ie, goldfish and betas don't go in bowls, no fish go in bowls).

5.) Who's the stricter parent?

Neither of them are all that stern. Aaron doesn't know how to appropriately discipline a child. He knows what not to do, but he isn't sure about alternatives, and whenever Jack acts out of turn, he feels like it's his fault for letting Jack down and letting him experience so much trauma that twisted his ability to process his emotions in a healthy way. Aaron doesn't know how to provide structure and support in a positive way, and he tries, but it's hard.

Spencer also didn't exactly have any good parental role models. He does have the ability to learn everything there is to know about a child's interests through reading, and he does that to make connections. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't and Jack has still graffitied the side of the school building and Aaron is having to pay out damages and is trying very hard not to raise his voice and Spencer is like, "Is this what Ash Ketchum would do?" and Jack responds, "I'm thirteen, I haven't watched Pokemon in five years, grow up." Then they enlist a family counselor.

6.) Who kills the bugs?

Neither have bug fear. Spencer will squish roaches and pest bugs as he finds them. However, he thinks unique bugs are quite interesting, and he doesn't kill ants or spiders or crickets. Instead, he studies them. Spiders he always captures and takes outside. Once, Spencer has a piece of paper and a cup and is working very hard on entrapping a beautiful black widow, and Aaron sees it without realizing what he's doing and mushes it. "Why would you do that? Why would you kill an arachnid? She was protecting our home." After that, Aaron lets Spencer handle all the bugs and doesn't interfere since he never knows which ones deserve to live and which ones don't.

7.) How do they celebrate the holidays?

If someone is hosting a Christmas party, they'll attend, but otherwise, they'll stay inside and decorate the tree as a family. Sean is invited to Christmas dinner; he rarely comes. Jessica and her family go to her parents', and Aaron doesn't want to make Spencer uncomfortable by taking him there, so they avoid such gatherings. They make it special with just the three of them, unless another member or two of the BAU wants to squeeze in. Aaron likes to go to midnight mass, and he usually manages to convince Spencer to sit through it one night of the year.

On Halloween, they all go trick-or-treating together.

Easter is the other day of the year Aaron insists they go to church because, "I am nothing if not a Chreaster Catholic." Aaron takes Jack alone while Spencer stays home and sets up a wild egg hunt somewhere in the city, and when church ends, Aaron brings Jack to look for the eggs. Sometimes the rest of the BAU's kids join in.

For Memorial Day and Fourth of July, Aaron grills. Spencer tries once and they spend Memorial Day in the ER and Aaron has to buy a new grill. Likewise, they agree Spencer should not come within three feet of any firework materials, including benign sparklers and the like.

8.) Who's more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Aaron likes to get up early to brew Spencer's coffee the way he likes it, warm the house up, and start breakfast. Spencer never asks him to come back because he enjoys having the house warm and breakfast ready when he rolls out of bed. But if Aaron isn't feeling well and Spencer gets out of bed to do those things, it only takes a couple petulant grumbles on Aaron's part to convince Spencer to slide back under the covers.

9.) Who's the better cook?

Aaron is a much better cook. Spencer, to his credit, tries sometimes. But Aaron has a better understanding of how palates work and also how not to set things on fire. Spencer knows cooking is technically just a science, but it's a science that baffles him, he'll admit, like paranormal science or theology.

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I thought about every episode of The Owl House Season 1 (Part 1/2)

Salutations random people on the internet who probably won't read this. I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

Hey, do you miss Gravity Falls?

...

Yeah, I know, dumb question. Which is why I have good news! Not only is there a new series that is just as good as Gravity Falls, but in some ways, it's even better. That new series would be none other than Disney Channel's latest hit: The Owl House.

The Owl House, slowly but surely, became my new obsession since Eda reacted to decapitation with an unconcerned, "I hate when that happens." I wrote fan-fiction, made fan-art, and even began to separately review new episodes. Unfortunately, I got in a little late in the reviewing game and only managed to analyze the last four episodes of season one. And like an idiot, I promised that I'll review the rest when they came out on Disney+. Seeing that all of the first season has finally come on a legal streaming service (which means WATCH IT RIGHT NOW!), it's time I finally saw through to that promise. However, I'm not going to over-analyze each episode because that would be insane. So instead, we're going to lightning round these suckers. Because it's my Tumblr, and I get to decide what I review and how the hell I review it...hooah.

Which means this is your last chance to avoid spoilers if you haven't seen The Owl House yet. Seriously, it's a great show, and you can catch up right now on Disney+. A week-long trial is more than enough time to watch the series, so DO IT! With that out of the way, let's get started with:

“A Lying Witch and a Warden”: This episode gets a lot of flack for having poor pacing and being too preachy with its message. And to that, I say...you're not wrong. Yeah, I wish I could be that person who can defend this episode against criticism like that, but these are understandable problems that just left this icky feeling in my tum-tum when watching. But that's only when looking at it as a regular old episode when in reality, people need to see it as a first episode. The first episode in any show needs to get viewers interested enough to continue watching by answering these five essential questions: What's the plot of the show? What's the tone? Who are the main characters? What's the world they live in? And what are the rules of the same world? "A Lying Witch and a Warden" does a great job of answering all of these questions. And if you stuck around until the season finale, then that means it did a great job of keeping you interested in sticking around as well. So seeing how it got its job done, albeit, with mixed results, I give this episode a B-.

“Witches Before Wizards”: Don't mind me. Just reveling in the fact that Luz escaped to a fantasy world to avoid Reality Check Camp, only to get a reality check anyway. Because that's what this episode is in a nutshell. Through the "quest" that Luz goes on, she learns two important lessons: One, don't trust strangers who offer you something nice and shiny (bonus points for Eda warning Luz to avoid men with sandals and then have Ategast wear sandals). And two, there is no such thing as having a predetermined destiny. I love the idea that Luz coming to the Isles was just a twist of fate, and everything that happens afterward is pure dumb luck. And that moment when Eda gave a speech about making your own path instead of waiting to become something special? That was the moment when I went from thinking this was going to be a fun show to thinking it's going to be a great show. So consider this episode a solid A in my book.

“I Was a Teenage Abomination”: How is it possible for an episode to get better and worse with time? Because here's the thing: This episode does a great job of showing how perfect Amity's development is. After one single season, it already feels jarring, seeing the way she acts in certain scenes. However, in that same respect, it's the same reason why this episode got worse. I didn't mind that Willow practically got away with cheating and vandalizing the school with her magic because she and Luz were basically trying to show up a two-dimensional bully. But knowing what we know in the future, it does seem unfair that Amity gets punished for their bad behavior and Willow got little consequences for it. Sure, Luz got banned and had to work at gaining Amity's trust, but what about Willow? Although, despite this complaint, I don't really hate this episode. It builds a believable connection between Luz and her friends, and the B-plot King and Eda show off their budding friendship. So while this episode is a C-, it's a somewhat enjoyable C-.

“The Intruder”: Is it weird for anyone else that King gets most of the blame in this episode? Yes, he took the potion, but Luz was the one who kept pushing him. This is why it never sat right with me seeing how everyone, including himself, blames King for this episode's incident. That being said, "The Intruder" is fantastic. Eda, as the Owl Beast, is legitimately threatening, and the way the episode treats Eda's curse like a chronic illness is actually kind of sweet. It teaches kids how this is something that just happens to people, and they're not any weaker because of it, as long as they take the right steps. Which is cool, and it's why this is another solid A episode for me. Sure King getting the blame bothers me, but it pales in comparison to everything else “The Intruder” does right.

“Covention”: If you want my personal opinion (obviously, seeing how you're reading this), "Covention" is the perfect episode to show a friend to get them into watching the The Owl House. Everything there is to love about the show is seen in just these twenty-two minutes. Eda being a chaotic good, Luz being a sweet and understanding character, some incredible/natural world-building, an actually decent B-plot, an epic fight scene, great comedy, and, my personal favorite, the building of Luz and Amity's relationship. In fact, this episode has the most quintessential moment between these two, that Dana Terrace herself took charge of making the animatic for it. A scene that is so perfect that you can do an analysis of these few minutes alone...which is what I did. Click here to read it! "Covention" gets an A+ in my book and might possibly be the best episode of the season. Maybe even the series!

“Hooty’s Moving Hassle”: There's not really a lot I can say about this episode. I don't hate it, but I'm not exactly in love with it. The interactions between Luz and her friends are adorable, and there are a few good jokes that kept me laughing. But the story is kind of bland, and I just find Eda's sudden obsession with Hexes Hold'em kind of odd. Especially since a card game is what nearly defeated the "undefeatable" Owl Lady. If it wasn't for the nice reveal of Willow's and Amity's friendship (which comes into play in a far better episode), I'd say that you could skip this one on future rewatches. Because this is a C grade episode that just doesn't grab me as well as others.

“Lost in Language”: Ah, yes. The episode that made dozens of fans jump aboard the Lumity ship...unless you're like me, and you've been shipping these two since the show's theme song (And I don't know why, either. It's just the second I saw Amity my first thought was, "Oh, honey. You're gonna fall in love with the main character, aren't you?" AND I WAS F**KING RIGHT!). But jokes about shipping aside, "Lost in Language" is a fantastic episode. It has a great lesson about how people are more complex than their first impressions (Or to not judge a book by its cover, if you wanna stay on theme). Edric and Emira seem like a chaotic duo who cause mischief all for good fun. But Luz, as well as the audience, learns that Ed and Em are kinda the worst (they get better in future episodes, but still). Then there's Amity, who hasn't had the best first impressions in the last few episodes. We got glimpses of a good person here and there, but for the most part, that's all they were. Glimpses. Then there's this episode, which gives us more than a small look, but some actual insight into who Amity really is. Better yet, who she wants to be. It's something that I appreciate about The Owl House in that it wastes no time in developing Amity's character. So much so that I can forgive this episode for shoehorning a "Two idiots and a baby" plotline that does nothing but add maybe two minutes of padding. So yeah, it's an A+ for sure.

“Once Upon a Swap”: "Ugh! It's the body swap episode! How cliche and-" SHUT UP! Shut your mouth, and listen: Something being cliche does not always make it bad. Only when the cliche fails to tell an entertaining story does it have the right to work as a complaint. "Once Upon a Swap" may have a cliche premise, but it's still an enjoyable story (or stories) with great laughs and even some ok lessons. I can understand if you hate the episode because its premise is something you've seen a dozen times to the point where your sick of it. My most hated story idea is the "Character A saves Character B, and Character B becomes a life slave." If you have seen this story once, you've seen it a thousand times, and it's the same case with a "body swap" episode. But guess what: The Owl House is a kids' show. Kids'. Show. You can complain all you want about predictability, but kids are the type of viewers who will be new to this experience, despite if it's one that is done to death. Which is why this is solid B of an episode if you ask me.

“Something Ventured, Someone Framed”: Can people please stop shipping Gus with Mattholomule? Because that slimy, greasy, weaselly little son of A BASTARD BITCH WEASEL DOES NOT DESERVE LOVE IN WAY POSSIBLE!

...

But enough about how Mattholomule is the worst character ever, because "Something Ventured, Someone Framed" is a B+ in my opinion. Sure it shows the worst side of Gus and lets Satan's little herpe win in the end, but there is still quality to be had. We get insight into who Gus is as a character, on top of Eda swallowing her pride and cleaning the school so Luz can get into Hexide. Also, Eda's permanent record was the first time this show brought me to tears due to laughing so hard. So while I have to take points off for the inclusion of Mattholomule (I don't make the rules. I just live by them), this is still an episode I wouldn't mind revisiting.

“Escape of the Palisman”: I subscribe to this theory that Luz will one day have Eda's staff as her own. And episodes like this that strengthen the bond between Luz and Owlbert help confirm that theory. Luz's dedication to trying to make things right could just be part of her kind nature, but I like to believe that this is Dana and the crew trying to set up this possible outcome. As for what I think about the episode itself...it's ok. Again, Luz's dedication is nice to see, and King's adventure with Owl Beast Eda is somehow insanely adorable, but there's not really much to say other than that. So it's another B episode for me.

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

And that’s the end of part one! Part two has probably already been posted by the time you finish this, so you can go ahead and find that if you’re interested.

[tisfan]

I’ve been doing a lot of reading recently; between the @bannedtogetherbingo2020 kerfluffle and the BLM protests 

(one thing that I’ve been doing recently that seems to annoy the living SHIT out of my fellow White People is correcting “riots” to “protests.” 

“Were you near the riots --” “I did not attend the protests, but I did donate to the medical fund for the man who was injured by removal of the statue on High Street.”

This seems to drive people absolutely batshit, and I will continue to do it. These are not riots and if they have similar characteristics with riots it’s because cops are treating everyone not even like criminals, but like hostile enemy forces.)

Mostly what I’ve been reading about is the difficulty that POC fans have in getting their voices heard in fandom. That the history of fandom is primarily the history of White Fandom. 

(this is long, so there’s more under the cut - I also tell stories A LOT so brace for personal experience asides)

I’ve been thinking about comments I’ve seen by black and brown fans about trying to get away from racist stories on A03. And trying to figure out if there’s a way to give people what they want -- a way to tag posts/topics/writers/ships on a permanent block list. I know I’ve spoken with several fans who have extensive filter scripts when they go looking for a new read and that shit is EXHAUSTING and doesn’t work necessarily on mobile devices.

I, for instance, have QUITE A LOT of stuff blacklisted on tumblr because I find P*nnyW*se the Creepy Teeth Demon to be horrific and I do not want him on my screen. And the movie’s name is IT for fuck’s sake. I can’t blacklist the word “It” and still expect to see any content at all. So, thinking about how much trouble I had keeping PWCTD off my screen gives me some sympathy to how hard it’s got to be to filter out something that people aren’t even tagging! 

I mean, honestly, most of the time that people tag a fic TW: racist, they already KNOW the character is acting in a racist manner and they’re condemning it. When people don’t realize the character is racist, or a word, or a trope is racist (mystical black character, for instance) they don’t tag it as racist because they either don’t know, are unconscious of their own bias, of they don’t care that it’s racist. 

In the same manner, Person A who’s writing fic they know is dub-con will tag it, and Person B who thinks stalking someone and climbing in their window at night is romantic will NOT tag the same scenes as dub-con.

Which doesn’t make it any less jarring when I suddenly run into a fic that I would absolutely count as noncon/dubcon that’s not tagged for it. The intentions of the author don’t matter TO ME at that moment, what matters to me is that I’m trying to breathe while the romantic interest on my eReader is saying “aw, that’s so sweet.”

So, there’s multiple questions that come up for me -- I’m not a computer person, so while the A03 code is available for use, I wouldn’t know what to do with it if I tried. 

Is there a way to tag something from the outside? An overlay or side program (like an Xkit for A03) that would allow people to permanently blacklist certain tags or authors, tropes, etc? I know there are some hosting sites (unfortunately with ads) that basically funnel stuff from A03 to a reader. There was a big kerfluffle about it at the beginning of the year because OMG, someone is making money off my fanfic! protip, no, they weren’t. they were making money off someone else’s desire for a custom skin. The material itself was never leaving A03, it wasn’t stored anywhere else. A03 does not currently have a phone app and they don’t plan to have a phone app.

So, would it be possible for someone to write a phone-app that did a custom filter for the material. Blacklists are certainly possible, right?

Because here’s the thing; a lot of people who are racist don’t know that they are. Or they don’t care that they are. I have personally had a couple of hard conversations about racism (I’m not even going to call it “unconscious racism” because I am a grown-ass adult capable of reading, so if I act in a racist manner, I’m going to fucking own it. And apologize for it. And try to do better.) in my own work -- whitewashing a character at one point, using a quote from a black woman as a title for a story about Wanda. I’m still not entirely convinced that a Jewish/Romani woman is “white” in any sort of traditional sense. That said, I’m not a POC and I’m going to listen to the person who’s upset because of my usage and not my own feeling of “I don’t really think Wanda counts as white.” This may be partially because WANDA is whitewashed as shit in the MCU and a lot of people in the fandom do not read comics.

That further said, I made the changes as requested and apologized for it in the work/notes. And felt very uncomfortable when some of my white friends said “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.” I’m not sorry I had to deal with it. I wish I hadn’t DONE it, but I am glad that people felt comfortable enough with me to call my on my bullshit and I was able to make corrections and amends.

Still-- All of this boils down to: People are not going to, in good faith, tag their own fic as “don’t read this, I am racist.”  

Everything that gets done on A03 -- which is an Archive -- is voluntary by the author. A03′s policies are pretty much “tag to warn” or “tag that you’re NOT tagging to warn.” The only action A03 takes for inappropriate tagging is to ask the author to update the Warning to match, or choose not to warn. If there’s no compliance, A03 will assign the fic “choose not to warn.” But that’s the extend of their policies.

We all know this history; no censorship. Censorship is a slope that leads to fanwork disappearing. Because here’s another fact: it doesn’t matter what the intention is of censoring a story; that censorship is going to be applied badly. 

So, if A03 was going to ban racist fic, how long do you think it would take before the reporting system was flooded? Even legit reports of racism are going to take a while to read through, judge, contact the author, wait for possibly updates or retractions, and then removal.

A03′s staff are volunteers, and I understand there aren’t very many of them. There are six MILLION works on A03. No one could hope to read them all with a careful enough eye to catch all instances of harmful texts.

And we all know what’s going to happen: it’s easier to delete all stories that get complaints, rather than read them.

So, Fan A gets Fan C’s fic taken down for racial stereotyping and Fan C tells all of her friends, who go on a crusade to report every single one of Fan Q’s fics in retaliation (not because Fan Q did anything “wrong” but because they happened to post a blog about racial stereotyping in fandom) And we’re right back to strikethru.

Yet, censorship is one of those things that makes me very, very nervous. Do I think a white boy who writes a self-insert rape fantasy novella about violating and murdering Zoe Quinn should be allowed a platform? No, I don’t. (And neither did Amazon, who took it down fairly quickly once it was brought to their attention. But that’s only one case, where there are probably thousands of books that are personal attacks and are left merrily alone.)

There are a lot of books on the banned book list. If people thought they could get away with it, those books would be unpublished, unpersoned, black bagged. 

We all know that the rules get applied badly, by the people with the biggest mouths and the loudest complaints. So banning content on A03 does not seem to be the solution.

(Personal story time again, just skip this if you want.)

I came into fandom backward; I was a traditionally published erotica / romance writer first and moved into fandom after the collapse of several small publishing houses for various scandals that I won’t bore you with but you can look here if you want more information. 

Several years ago, I was in an anthology that i was Very Proud of, and I really like the editor I worked with, wanted to work with her again. She sent me a premise for submission that left me cold. Which is to say, she wanted to publish cuckolding stories. 

[x] <-- warning, that link is REALLY harsh and filled with some real WTF moments, from someone who’s pointing out the racism inherent in the system.

Especially when you consider the Mandingo aspects of the fantasy, it’s easy to see why just the existence of it is repulsive.

I declined the invitation to participate because I was deeply uncomfortable with the subject matter. 

I’m not saying that to get praise for my behavior. 

Because when the subject came up again about two or three years ago in some fandom discourse, I sided with my friends who were defending “no censorship, no matter what.”

(End of personal aside.)

Despite my personal feelings about the issue (ew, this is icky and racist and horrible and I would never write it) I still believe that I don’t have the right to say what someone else can write, read, or enjoy.

I’m trying to find the path between “this sort of reading material is harmful and I don’t think it should have a platform,” “this should be heavily tagged to avoid upsetting people,” and “there are people who feel that way about gay, non-christian stories as well.” And what’s more, I’m trying to find it in a way that doesn’t stifle authors’ voices.

Even with my idea of an overlay, that’s putting the burden on the people most affected-- someone would have to rate stories as “racist” or “not racist” (and even then, it’s seldom that clear cut. Microaggressions abound.) and the people best capable of doing that would be readers of color. Which hardly seems productive. Or fair. 

“Don’t like; don’t read” is often the calling card of fandom writers. I’ve said it myself. That’s what the fucking back button is for. But when I say it, I mean “I don’t want to hear your wank about Tony Stark in my inbox” not “I don’t want to be called out for racism when I wrote a story.”

https://ggmadeit.com/blog/why-i-cant-just-knit-the-story-of-a-black-knitter-during-civil-unrest/ -- I’m including this link because this piece really made me think. I can’t ever put down being a woman. I can’t read or watch horribly misogynistic work without being upset, and I have trouble sitting in the room with my male friends who insist on watching it and want to say “it’s only a movie.”

Being black is part of someone’s life. It can’t be erased just because it’s not convenient. Just because it interrupts your good time. It shouldn’t be put aside because “it’s just a story.”

As fans, we have to do better.

We all know what it’s like to be pushed out, to be made second best, to be asked when we’re going to get a real hobby, when are you going to grow up, why did you spend money on that merch? So we need to reach further. 

I don’t have answers. And even if I did, I’m not the one who needs to give them. What I need to do is listen to the people who have answers and HELP THEM get what they need.

We need to do better. We need to BE better.

[once-upon-a-pirate-ship]

Laughter, Love, and Other Products of a Quarantine

Yay, I’ve gotten around to actually posting it on here! I’m so lazy and I can never figure out how to get the italics to transfer because I copy from google docs so I copied it from there to word and then copied it again and pasted it here but THEN it kept all the weird indents that look icky on Tumblr so if anyone knows how to get rid of all these annoying issues I’d really love to know

I’m absolutely interested in taking prompts if anyone has something Captain Swan they’d like to see...as I’m sure you could guess, I definitely have the time. For those of you reading Even If It’s A Lie (first of all, thank you, I love you), I’m hoping to update that soon too. If you haven’t read it but you’re interested, here’s a link to that.

@coffeenotess​ made this lovely moodboard for my fic:

summary: Emma Swan has been roommates with Liam Jones for years, but hates his brother. Okay, so she's met him once and it was a brief encounter, but still. But of course he's visiting for the week when the mandated quarantine happens. And of course Liam just happens to be out of town for the weekend when it does. 

word count: 8,716 (yes, it got a little out of hand)

rating: M, entirely because of language

also read it on: AO3 | FFN

Emma sighed at the knock on her door, pushing herself off the couch to open it. She knew who would be on the other side, and it made her blood boil to think about it.

“Swan!” The dark haired, broody, eyebrow wiggling man exclaimed as soon as the door was open.

“Jones,” she managed to grunt, turning to find her place on her comfy couch for her current Netflix binge. She so desperately wanted to ignore him for the entirety of his stay at her apartment.

 “Liam is so lucky to have such a charming roommate, love,”

“His bedroom is the second door on the left,” she said instead of making a snarky comment about his usage of the nickname ‘love.’

She really didn’t have any reason to truly hate him. In fact, she’d only met Liam’s brother once before, but there was just something about him that rubbed her the wrong way. Maybe it was the smirking, or the innuendos. Either way, she wasn’t exactly thrilled when Liam offered him lodging while he was in town for work. And of course Liam just had to have a weekend trip planned for him and his girlfriend. Emma absolutely adored Elsa, she even introduced the two, but she mildly resented her friend for taking her roommate away and leaving her with Killian Fucking Jones.

He left her alone for an hour or so, probably unpacking and making himself comfortable, and of course she could not care less about what that man was doing. Except when he decided to interrupt her show.

“Would you like some tea, Swan?”

Okay, so it was a polite interruption but still. This was an important part in her show. “No thanks,” her voice quick and rather icy.

But then she felt rude, so she tried to make up for it with conversation—he was Liam’s brother, after all, and she didn’t want to cause any unnecessary friction between the brothers. So she reluctantly got up from the couch and moved to lean against the kitchen counter in an attempt to be mildly civil. “So um, I’m surprised your work still has you traveling, you know, with the pandemic and all,”

He chuckled lightly, and she was glad her snark hadn’t wounded him permanently. “Me too, but it’s all about the money, of course.”

She struggled to recall the conversations Liam and she had about Killian and his life. “What is it you do again?”  

 “I’m a strategy consultant for publishing companies along the east coast,” when she couldn’t stop the raising of her eyebrows, he laughed. “What, expecting something more befitting of a scoundrel such as I?”

She rolled her eyes at his drama. “Well, Liam said you enjoyed sailing, maybe I thought you were a pirate,”

“Alas, such a profession is frowned upon by societal norms. Plus, I wouldn’t get benefits with just a ship and a crew.” He took a tea bag from the jar of Liam’s favorite Irish breakfast tea. He paused, “Are you sure you don’t want any, Swan?” He was way too considerate for her liking, but she tried not to let it fuel her bubbling hatred. He would be with them for a little while, and she didn’t want it to be awkward.

 “I’m good, I promise. I will, however, make some hot chocolate.” She went straight for the cinnamon, extracting it from its place in the cupboard before grabbing the mix and her favorite mug. She’d just finished stirring her drink when she was interrupted by her phone ringing. “Hey, Liam,” she greeted.

“Emma, where are you right now?” His voice was a little panicked, a little hurried.

“I’m at home with your brother, why? What’s going on?”

“Turn on the news. Now.” She rushed to change from her Netflix show to the local news channel.

“Breaking news for the Boston area: we are going into a mandated lockdown. The lockdown begins at midnight tonight, so I hope you have stocked up on all your essentials. There will be limited officials who will be able to deliver supplies upon request, but unfortunately it looks like we will be stuck for at least two weeks. Stay tuned for the latest—”

Emma stopped listening, trying to figure out how the fuck she was this unlucky. One more day, and Liam would have been home. But no, of course he couldn’t be. Now she was trapped with his smirk-happy, younger, more annoying (and more attractive, though she wasn’t quite ready to admit that yet) brother.

“Emma?” she’d forgotten that she was on the phone.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. I just heard,” she was trying very hard to remain calm. “Are you sure we’re not just being pranked right now? Like maybe this is some new reality TV show thing that they’re trying out and they’re trying to convince everyone the world is ending,” she knew it was far-fetched and absolutely ridiculous at this point to hope it wasn’t real, but it was easier to process than her present situation.

“I really don’t think that’s it, Emma,” he replied, and the way he said her name reminded her that she needed to relax.

“You’re right,” she took a deep breath. “I’m fine, look, I’m gonna go figure out how we stand on supplies. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Call me anytime,” he replied, and she was struck by the fact that she had people now, but it was not the time for that brand of breakdown.

“Looks like we’re stuck together,” Killian joked once she was off the phone, but she could see that the smirk didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a bit of fear behind them, and somehow it made her feel better.

Her panic was still fresh, and she needed to get away from that room and that man. “I’m gonna...go see how much toilet paper we have left,” and she left as fast as she could without actually running.

It wasn’t that she was worried about her health. She was fine, and David, Mary Margaret, Ruby, Liam, Elsa, Anna...her family was all in good health. A lot of the world would be okay, and a lot of the world would not be. But that part was surreal, far away. And also out of her control, which wasn’t exactly something that made her jump with joy. What she could control and worry about was her new roommate for the foreseeable future.

Killian was somehow simultaneously easy and hard to hate. Somehow. His tendency to flirt with anything that breathed and the fact that he could see right through her like he knew her...that made it easy to hate him. But she had also seen, not only in the last twenty minutes or so but also in Liam’s infinite stories of him, that he had that bad boy with a heart of gold thing that just so happened to be her fictional character ‘type.’

It didn’t help that her mind was at war. One side of her, the instinctual, foster kid side, told her to run. Avoid him like the plague. Ironic, really. She wanted to hide in her room for two weeks or a month or however long they’d be stuck in her now-too-small apartment.

But the other side, the side that came directly as a product of spending years in the company of her friends—no, her family—told her to open herself up to him, take advantage of the time she’d have with him and try to really get to know him, to see the man Liam had raved about for years.

Needless to say, Emma had a headache.

She spent ten minutes or so just pacing in her room, before deciding to actually check to see how much toilet paper she had in her personal bathroom. Once she’d calmed down enough, she returned to the kitchen, only to find Killian rifling through the pantry.

“What are you doing?” She hoped it didn’t sound like an accusation, but an innocent inquiry.

He didn’t seem fazed by it and simply replied, “I’m trying to determine how long we can survive without supplies,”

“And?” She’d succeeded this time in making her voice much more inquisitive than sharp.

He moved to face her, done with his assessment of the cabinet. “And, we have plenty of alcohol, a good amount of coffee as well as a few other beverages, and on the food front, I think we’ll be okay for about two weeks.”

“Good, good. I’m sure we’ll be able to get groceries before then,” she said, although there was no way she could be so certain.

 She cleared her throat anxiously, “Look, Jones, I think we should be friends.”

“Friends?” His stupid eyebrow was doing that thing again.

“Yes, friends. We’re stuck together, so we might as well make the most of it. I think if either of us would like to retain a single shred of sanity by the end of this, we have to get along.”

 “I wasn’t aware that we weren’t already friends, Swan,” his gaze made her stomach turn.

 “Oh really? You think I’m just this warm and bubbly to all my close pals?” She joked, then added, “Do you think we can just start over?”

 “Of course, love,”

 She held out her hand, and he took it. “I’m Emma Swan,”

“Killian Jones. It’s lovely to make your acquaintance, Swan,” he grinned.

 She rolled her eyes once more at his drama. “Now that that’s over with, what should we do now that we have all this time?”

“Well, I do have one idea…” his voice was so suggestive and seductive it should be a crime.

 “Woah, woah, woah,” she held up a hand as if she could force his train of thought to come to a stop.

 “Come now, Swan, I was going to suggest a movie. I don’t know where your mind went, but my idea was entirely innocent,” he assured her, although the teasing in his voice made her positive of what he’d intended her to think.

 “Ah, yes, a movie. Of course,” she nodded, crossing the room to take her place on the couch. He joined her tentatively, taking Liam’s usual seat on the other end of the sofa. “Any suggestions?” She asked, and he looked thoughtfully for a moment.

“I’m not sure, do you have a genre preference?”

Her lips ticked up a little, “Well, lately I’ve been on a rom-com marathon, but I’m not sure how much you’d enjoy that,”

He feigned offense, “I am always in the mood for a romantic comedy, Swan. I’m insulted that you would assume otherwise,”

She put her hands up as if in surrender. “Okay, okay, I shouldn’t have assumed. But do you have any ideas?”

“Well, what do you have?”

After showing him her extensive movie collection that she was extremely proud of, he selected one of her favorites and they settled in.

What shocked her more than the fact that Killian Jones enjoyed romantic comedies was that he also got rather worked up when the characters did something he didn’t agree with. Maybe it shouldn’t have surprised her very much, given his tendency for drama in his life, but it was still jarring to have him yell at Jude Law.

“Come on, mate,” he muttered, exasperated. When she looked at him curiously, he exclaimed, “Well, he’s just letting her go!”

But all was well, of course, because Cameron Diaz decided not to leave, and as always, everyone lived happily ever after.

Once the credits rolled across the screen, Emma excused herself to go to bed.

“Sleep well, Swan,” his voice was unusually soft.

“You too, Jones,” she called over her shoulder as she headed towards her room.

It was annoying how often he crept into her mind as she went through her nightly routine. He was a baffling man, and it was getting harder to hate him. Especially after seeing him call Jack Black ‘blind.’

“He’s been in love with her since he laid eyes on her, Swan,” he’d said.

She looked forward to seeing more rom-coms with him in the coming weeks, and that kind of freaked her out. She’d never say it out loud.

Emma woke to the smell of bacon, and it startled her. But as soon as she remembered the night before, one Killian Jones, Mr. Would You Like Any Tea, she really should have known. She didn’t mind in the least, as her usual breakfast was just toast or cereal, or if she was going out, a good bearclaw.

“Good morning, love,” he greeted, just as cheery as his brother at that time in the morning.

“Is it a Jones family requirement to be a morning person?” Emma was famously grumpy before 11 o’clock, even more so if she didn’t have a warm beverage in her hand.

He just laughed, and placed a mug of something in her hand. When she stared at him questioningly, he told her, “some hot chocolate, Swan.” With an eye roll, he turned to flip a pancake.

She took a sip carefully, mostly because her brain was still trying to figure out what the hell was going on. She looked down at the drink she was holding. “This has cinnamon in it,”

“Aye, that’s how you like it, isn’t it?” Although he faced the stovetop, she knew that his eyebrow would be raised.

“Uh, yeah, I’m just trying to figure out how you knew that,”

“You made some for yourself last night, Swan. Remember?” He told her, as if it were the most obvious thing.

“Oh yeah,” she muttered. He noticed. And remembered.

At this point, to say that she hated Killian Jones would be an outright lie. This charming, annoying, thoughtful man was making her breakfast and he remembered how she liked a drink she made in front of him one time.

In fact, if she were a different person, she might even say that she liked him.

“It’s ready, Swan,” he said.

She watched him as he took two plates to an already set table. She would not let this freak her out, she promised herself. She knew how important it was that they both try to have fun and relax during this extremely confusing and anxiety-inducing time.

So instead of obeying that voice in her head that was yelling at her to run, Emma took a seat across from Killian at the table and smiled at him.

After breakfast, they brainstormed activities, then got to work. Although, it was much more like play.

Emma beat Killian at Wii bowling, but he kicked her butt at tennis.

“Oh, come on! How are you this good?” She cried after he scored on her yet again.

“I don’t know, love, I guess I’m just a very skilled man,” he told her with a wink.

They got a little too competitive once they started playing baseball, and they decided it was better to stop playing than to potentially cause permanent damage to any furniture.

“We could reorganize the kitchen,” Killian suggested.

“Are you kidding? That sounds terrible,” she grumbled.

He chuckled at her childish attitude. “It’ll be fun,”

She wasn’t sure how that worked, but somehow it did. They reorganized the pantry and all the cabinets before she started whining. “This is horrible,”

“Fine, Swan. What do you suggest we do?”

“I’ve been meaning to change the light bulbs in my bathroom for like six months,” she said.

He rolled his eyes. Maybe she should start counting. “Okay, and after those five minutes?”

“I’ll let you know when we get there,”

It did take five minutes, but then she decided to find a new mop on Amazon for the one she’d been thinking about replacing for a year. Killian very harshly judged her shopping methods, claiming that she shouldn’t buy it unless she is able see it and touch it herself, but she reminded him that they couldn’t exactly go out.

They ended up going back to the Wii, this time playing Wii Sports Resort. He complained that basketball was a stupid game when she won, and then proceeded to kick her ass at swordplay.

“Swordplay? Really?”

“Come on, Swan, you yourself called me a pirate,” he teased.

She shook her head, “I did not, I only said I thought you might be a pirate.”

“Same thing,”

She sighed, “do you think it’s lunchtime yet?”

He looked at his watch, groaning. “It’s only been an hour and a half,”

“What?” She almost screamed. “How is this even possible? I thought it had been like four,”

“Unfortunately not,” he sighed. “But don’t lose heart, Swan. I’m sure there’s lots more we can do,” he said, and thought for a moment. “Do you have any board games?”

“Oh hell yeah,” she led him to their game closet, and he immediately went for Monopoly. “That’s a dangerous game, Jones,” she warned.

“I’m well aware, Swan.” He met her wild eyes, “And I do so love a challenge.”

“You’re on,”

They played for three hours, and they were quite equal opponents. Neither let the other hoard all the railroads, and they were good at snatching up the last of a color before the other could have a monopoly.

But then Killian landed on Park Place. He already had Boardwalk.

“No!” Emma cried, but of course he purchased it, and began piling on the houses.

It was a long time before Emma landed on either property, but she did. It didn’t damage her bank too much, but she knew she wouldn’t survive a second payment.

Sure, in a typical game, Park Place and Boardwalk weren’t really the smartest investments. They take up so little space on the board, it’s complete luck to have a player land on it. But because they were both so strategic throughout the earlier game, neither even held a monopoly until Killian got ahold of Park Place. And in a game of just two players, trading wasn’t going to happen.

She cringed when he added a hotel, and just hoped she wouldn’t have to find out what the rent on that one was.

A few turns later, she landed on Boardwalk. “Pay up, love,” he was absolutely beaming, and instead of handing over the cash, she just started throwing hotels at his head.

They called it off after that.

 “Tell you what, Swan, I’ll think about forgiving you if you help me make lunch,”

She considered it for a moment, but decided it was for the best. “Fine, just don’t make me do anything difficult.”

They just had grilled cheese and tomato soup (unfortunately there were no onion rings on hand), but it was the best damn grilled cheese she’d ever had. She hoped it had more to do with a secret ingredient Killian had somehow added when her back was turned, rather than the person who made it.

They decided to try to do some work, but it was short lived. Emma studied the information she had on her current skip for a little bit, but there was no further she could go without actually tracking the guy down.

Killian was also unable to get very much done, because as he discovered shortly after opening his computer, the company he was working with at the moment had temporarily shut down. He couldn’t exactly strategize without a company to work with.

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” he declared once they both realized there was no work to be done.

Emma just stared out the window for a few minutes, never before wanting to go out more than in that moment. Wordlessly, she got up, searching in a drawer beneath the TV.

“Ah ha!” She held up the treasure she’d just located.

“Fuck yes,” Killian jumped to turn the Wii back on.

She laughed at his enthusiasm. “Just to warn you, I am a pro at Mario Kart.”

“Of course you are, Swan,” he smirked.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a very talented woman, love, and I’d never claim otherwise.”

“But?”

“But, that’s what you said about Monopoly. And we saw how that turned out...” She smacked him playfully on the arm at the reminder of her painful loss.

“No, no, no, Jones. I never said I was a pro. If I remember correctly, I only implied that I was good.”

“Fine. We’ll just have to see who the true champion is, won’t we?”

She was good; ‘pro’ wasn’t an easily-earned term for Emma. Killian couldn’t deny that she was extremely skilled. They played for an hour, and Killian had only won twice. He admitted defeat, which was a difficult thing for him to do.

She bowed at his recognition, secretly very proud of herself at beating him after not playing for like three years.

Emma left after a little while to take a shower, surprisingly sweaty after Mario Kart. She used her time under the hot water to release her tight muscles in her back and shoulders. She was sure they were a product of her tensing over the remote, absolutely determined not to let him win.

She tried not to let her mind drift to him as she attempted to relax, but that was proving more and more difficult as she spent time with him. It certainly didn’t help that she was pretty much only spending time with him. But that was inevitable.

She took her time brushing her hair out and getting dressed, trying not to let her newfound sense of calm to slip away.

She was just considering returning to the living room when a Skype call came through on her computer.

“Emma! How are you? Are you okay there by yourself?” Mary Margaret asked, the worried mom-friend as usual.

“I’m fine, I’m great. And I’m not alone, Liam’s brother is here, remember?”

She cringed at David’s sudden appearance next to Mary Margaret. “Oh yeah? And how’s that going?” David asked, a hint of something with an edge in his voice. Accusation? She wasn’t sure.

“It’s great. I promise,” she hoped her words would calm him. It’s a good thing he was married to the mom of the friend group, because he was definitely the dad. “We’ve mostly just been playing Wii. I just destroyed him in Mario Kart,” she told them proudly.

Mary Margaret laughed, and David added, “Attagirl,” as if she were actually his child. Ridiculous, but it made her smile.

They chatted for a little while, catching up on all the personal life things they’d been missing the last few days in an attempt to do some social distancing.

“But I guess the party’s canceled now. I hope this is all better by the Fourth of July, or I’m going to be very grumpy,” Mary Margaret nearly pouted, and it made Emma laugh.

“I’ll let the authorities know that it’s gotta be finished before then, okay?” Emma teased.

“Swan?” Killian called, knocking on her door. “May I come in?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” She asked as he cracked open the door, just his head peeking in.

“I was wondering what you’d like for dinner, but I can come back later, I can see you’re occupied.” He moved to close the door, but she stopped him.

“No, no, it’s fine.” She gestured for him to come in, and then angled her computer a bit to introduce them. “Guys, this is Killian, Liam’s brother. Jones, this is Mary Margaret and David. They like to think they’re my parents,” she grinned at their objections.

“It’s nice to meet you, Killian,” Mary Margaret said once she was done reprimanding Emma.

He shifted nervously, and he had this look on his face that she couldn’t quite read. “It’s lovely to make your acquaintance.”

He was the pinnacle of manners, and she should’ve seen it coming with the way Liam was.

“I heard that Emma kicked your ass in Mario Kart Wii,” David said, pride dripping from his voice. It made heat rush to her cheeks.

“Aye, that she did. It was a well earned victory,”

Once again, Emma was surprised at Killian’s words. Although it was more the tone that confused her, the hint of pride that matched David’s. It was rather unexpected.

Dinner was an interesting affair to say the least. Emma tried to help, really, but she wasn’t one for cooking. Luckily, he’d noticed that from her attempt at assistance when they’d made lunch earlier, so he was prepared.

“All you have to do is stir,” he told her.

“Are you sure?”

This made him laugh, and she caught herself watching as his eyes squinted and his head was thrown back in the movement. “I’m positive, Swan.”

Killian put together the most gourmet spaghetti and meatballs she’d ever seen, and it was fascinating to watch him flit around her kitchen, adding this and that, completely focused and in his element.

The stirring he’d tasked her with was a homemade sauce, which she thought was a little crazy, considering you could just buy some in a jar at the store. When she mentioned this, he shook his head.

“Sure, you can buy the premade sauce, but why do that when it’s so easy to make your own, plus, it’s so much better,”

She bit back a laugh at his passion for anything homemade. It was adorable.

She froze for a split second. The thought had just appeared in her head without warning. She returned to her mechanical stirring, but she remained in her head, trying to find the root of the thought. Did she really think he was adorable? She must have, or else the thought wouldn’t have been so instant. But really, you’d have to be blind to miss the attractiveness in his features, and claiming otherwise was what they called denial. Maybe it wasn’t such an important thought after all.

“It’s ready,” he informed her as he opened the fridge and pulled out an unopened bottle of red wine.

“Good thing we reorganized the kitchen earlier, or else you wouldn’t know where the corkscrew is,” she grinned.

“You’re so right, Swan. A wonderful idea on my part,”

They enjoyed their meal in a comfortable, companionable silence. It was kind of funny, how completely opposite their relationship was from just the night before. She’d dreaded his arrival for hours, and now she was starting to think that perhaps she was trapped with just the right person.

She was surprised she didn’t choke on her food when the thought popped into her head. She hoped maybe some conversation would distract her from her head.

“You’re a wonderful cook,” she commented.

“Thank you, love. I learnt the importance of a well cooked meal from my mother,” he told her, fondness in his voice.

Liam never really talked about their mom, but she knew she’d died when they were young. “That’s what Liam usually says,”

“Aye, he was lucky enough to learn a lot from her before she passed, and I was lucky enough to have him to teach me when I was older,” he said, his smile much softer than before.

“He’s a good brother,”

“Aye, too good to have to put up with my shit,” he agreed, but she could hear the hidden meaning in his words.

“You know, Liam’s spent the last five years or so talking you up. Always telling me how great you are, how proud he is of you...it got pretty annoying after the first few times,” she tried to make it casual enough that he wouldn’t be uncomfortable with her confession.

His eyes got slightly bluer somehow, and his smile turned into a smirk. “Well, how could he not boast about me?”

She decided that her mission was successful, and it eased a weight around her heart to see him accept this new information.

After a second glass of wine, she helped him clean up. He washed, she dried, that was the system, and a good one at that. They made quite the team.

They chose another rom-com from her collection, and once again Emma enjoyed Killian’s comments, although this time most of his anger was directed towards Justin Long. “Does he really think he’s not completely in love with her? That’s ridiculous,” he huffed.

She grinned, “I don’t know what to tell you, Jones. Men are blind, I guess,”

He shook his head. “Not all men are that blind, love, I promise.”

She tried not to think about his words as she climbed into bed. She was exhausted after all that competition and emotional energy. There were so many little things she’d picked up on over the course of the day, it was no wonder she was so good at her job.

She didn’t hate him, and probably never did. He was far too thoughtful to be real, too considerate. He read her like a goddamn book and she had no idea how to deal with it. She just hoped their understanding of each other would be to her advantage and not cause her harm.

Over the next few days, the two of them fell into somewhat of a routine. Killian would make breakfast, then they would goof off and play games until lunch. After that, they tried to do something productive, but as the days passed that got a bit harder, especially after they’d deep cleaned the whole house. On day four, they prepared what Emma called ‘niche powerpoint presentations.’ It was a good way to kill an hour or two, especially when Killian created a literal Ted Talk about why Peter Pan is actually the villain. It made Emma laugh so hard her stomach hurt.

After their productive time, they’d give each other some privacy for whatever they needed or wanted to do. Emma usually just showered and Skyped her friends, although one day she took a nap.

Then it was dinner, which Killian would make, and then Emma would help him clean up. They finished off their days with a rom-com that usually had Killian annoyed at this character or another. It was funny (and adorable) every time.

On day five, Liam and Elsa Skyped her, and Emma brought her computer out to sit on the coffee table so they could both talk.

“So Emma, how are you getting along with my little brother. Is he giving you a lot of trouble?” Liam chuckled.

“Younger. Younger brother,” Killian muttered, arms crossing his chest like a four-year-old.

“No, he’s been feeding me, so that’s good,”

“I was a bit worried you might starve with me gone for so long,” Liam teased.

Killian rolled his eyes. “You know I’m perfectly capable of cooking, Liam,”

“Oh of course, of course,” he agreed too quickly. Emma was no expert at sibling relationships, but she was pretty sure that he was implying he was the superior cook. He wasn’t, but she was afraid she was beginning to become biased, so she didn’t trust herself to say it.

“Emma, have you been talking to David and Mary Margaret much?” Elsa asked.

“We Skype just about every day. They’re so parent-y, still,”

“That’s definitely not a word, Swan. ‘Parent-y,’ really, that’s not even creative,” Killian shook his head in feigned disappointment.

“I’m sorry, but I momentarily blacked out and forgot the word parental. Are you happy?”

“Overjoyed.”

“At least I don’t have to worry about you two destroying the apartment,” Liam said.

“What are you implying?” Emma raised her eyebrows.

“I figured that by now you would’ve murdered him, Emma, but you’re more tolerant than I thought,” he said.

“I can’t say I haven’t considered it once or twice,” she ignored his call of ‘hey!’ and added, “but I would’ve been left with the mess, plus it would’ve just been me for two weeks and that doesn’t sound fun,”

“That’s understandable,” Liam nodded seriously.

“We’re so proud of you, Emma,”

They ended the call a little while later, and all was well until Elsa called her just after she’d gotten out of the shower.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to talk to you, uh, alone,” Elsa said.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“No, no, everything’s fine. Sorry, I realize how that sounded. No, I mean...you and Killian seem to be getting along really well,”

“Oh,” that made her pause. “What makes you say that?”

“I kind of thought you still hated him, but, well, you guys were very much flirting while we were on Skype, Emma,”

“Oh.”

She’d gotten so used to his company and their playful banter that she didn’t even realize what had been right in front of her. “Oh,” she repeated once it sunk in. “Well shit,”

“What are you going to do?”

“I have no idea. I’ll, um, I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Emma, are you sure—”

“Bye, Elsa,” she hung up before she could finish her sentence.

Over the course of the next few minutes, Emma’s brain became what she liked to refer to as a Shit Tornado. It was just...shit. Flying around, spinning, going one hundred and fifty miles per hour and destroying everything in its path.

She liked him, like liked him. Yes, the official middle school definition. She actually cared about him, and she had no idea how it happened. But did he also care? She should’ve figured that one out days ago, really. The hot chocolate that first morning? It was so obvious. There were so many looks she tried to ignore, on both ends, actually. Many comments she pretended never happened. God, she said that men were blind, but holy shit! She might as well donate her eyes, because she clearly hadn’t been using them.

She wasn’t sure how long she let the Shit Tornado ravage her brain as she sat on the floor of her bathroom, but there was a knock on the door.

“Swan?” His voice was soft and sweet and fuck.

“Go away,” she muttered, absolutely in no state to see him.

“Love, what’s going on?”

He was so goddamn nice it made her want to cry. “Nothing,” it was a blatant lie, they both knew it, but she didn’t care. There was silence on the other side of the door, and she wasn’t sure if she was more relieved or disappointed.

But after a moment, he said, “I have rum,”

She sighed, going against at least half of the cells in her body and reaching up to open the door.

He was extremely polite and didn’t mention the fact that she was just in a robe, and he moved to sit beside her on the floor. Wordlessly, he unscrewed the cap to his flask and passed it to her.

She took a few sips and returned it to him. He didn’t pressure her to speak, and at this point that didn’t shock her. He wanted to wait until she was comfortable.

“Do you remember when we first met?” She asked.

“Of course,”

“I was a little rude,” she said quietly. “Do you know why?” He just shook his head, letting her continue without interrupting. She smiled. It was a weak one, but it was still a smile. “Something you said really freaked me out,” she looked at him.

His eyes found hers, and she could see that he was searching his memory.

“You said, ‘try something new, darling. It’s called trust,’”

“I sounded like a jackass,” he mumbled.

She laughed, “That’s not what freaked me out. What freaked me out was that just before you’d said that, I wanted to trust you. I felt like I could, and I’d known you for like ten minutes. Everyday, when I’m working or whatever I’m doing, I listen to my gut. That day, it was telling me to trust you, to open myself up to you. But I couldn’t risk being wrong, and it was so startling to want to trust someone, and I just-I couldn’t handle it. So I pushed you away,”

“That makes perfect sense, love.”

She sighed. “But this funny thing has been happening. I don’t want to push you away anymore,”

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I’d like to not be pushed away,” he told her. “But I also want you to be comfortable, and happy,”

“I know, but I realized today that I am comfortable. So comfortable it scared me,”

“Look, Emma, I know you’ve been hurt before. I know that it takes a lot to earn your trust, and I want you to know that it would be very much worth the effort, for me.” He shifted to face her properly. “I don’t do things part way, Swan. You should know that. If you’re willing to give this a shot, I’m ready to go all in,”

She stared at him for a moment, as if she were expecting to wake up from a dream or snap out of some sort of hallucination. “I’d like to try to give this a shot,” it was just a whisper, but the effect it had on his whole being was massive. His grin alone created a fire that warmed her heart.

Emma awoke with that childlike first-day-of-summer hopefulness, ready for all the joy and possibilities that lay in front of her.

But once she was out of her room and staring at him at the stove, she realized that she had absolutely no idea how she was supposed to act or even feel. She had a new tornado in her brain, but this one was the polar opposite of the Shit Tornado, this was a...Joy Tornado? It was definitely not something she’d experienced before.

 “Swan! I trust you slept well,” he said, handing her a mug. Her favorite mug, as usual, the yellow handmade-looking one that she used everyday, the one he discovered after that first day when she’d mentioned it offhand. Every day after that, that was the mug he would hand her as soon as she stumbled out of her room, hands rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

 “Your breakfast is on the table,” he informed her. He looked almost as excited as she felt, and it was really cute.

He joined her a minute later, his usual place at the table passed over for the seat beside her. She tried not to let it distract her, but unfortunately the Joy Tornado was picking up speed.

There was a different ease between them, something that had been a result of their conversation the night before. She caught herself watching him in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to just twenty-four hours earlier.

They made cupcakes for some reason, maybe because they discovered there was absolutely nothing else to do, and Emma couldn’t remember a time when she laughed more.

“Swan, try this!” He called, handing her a spoon with a bit of the chocolate batter.

It was heaven, and not just because she hadn’t had cupcake batter in years. When she gave him back the spoon, he tried it himself, and she couldn’t help but watch as the dark batter touched his lips.

Once he noticed she was staring, his eyebrow did that thing again, although this time the feeling in her chest wasn’t anything related to annoyance. In fact, she found it rather alluring. “See something you like, Swan?”

“Nope, not at all,” she said, a smirk creeping onto her lips.

“You’re a terrible liar, love,”

Emma caught herself far too many times thinking things that would make old Emma puke. Although ‘old’ more meant ‘a week ago.’ But she couldn’t find herself to care one bit.

They were crafting, yes crafting, with some random supplies they found hidden away in a box shoved into a corner in one of the many closets. It was pipe cleaners and stickers and children’s glue, but it was entertaining.

They’d made it a competition, of course. Whoever made the best picture in twenty minutes won, though there was no prize other than bragging rights. So naturally, the entire twenty minutes was spent throwing insults at each other, promising that their picture would be better than the other’s.

When the buzzer went off, Emma was embarrassingly proud of her creation. It was an extremely abstract landscape that reminded her of one of the places she’d lived as a foster kid. Sure, the forest was made up of pieces of green and blue pipe cleaners, but it was the best damn thing she’d ever made.

But Killian presented his masterpiece, and she almost lost it.

It was a swan. Aboard a pirate ship. Damn him.

“I think yours is brilliant, Swan,” he said, pride in his voice.  

She rolled her eyes, “You made a pirate ship, Jones. You win.”

“Well, if you insist. But I do plan on hanging both up on the fridge,” he said, and then actually got up and put them front and center, moving the magnets until they were sturdy. “There. Now, are you hungry?”

Emma spent their entire dinner trying to figure out how this man was even real. He was so considerate, and he always knew just what to say. He remembered all those little details and made her feel important. He never teased her in ways that actually inflicted any damage; it was like he knew which areas to avoid. All of this led her to one conclusion, one that she should have determined a long, long time ago: Killian wasn’t Neal.

In fact, the entire week she’d been pushing away thoughts of comparison before they could take form. When he made her hot chocolate, she’d tried not to remember how Neal could never get any of her orders right. Coffee, Chinese food, whatever, he could never get it right. Killian also never insulted the things she cared about, and took interest in the things she enjoyed. They were making the way through her rom-com collection, after all. Killian wasn’t pushy, he didn’t pry. He didn’t expect things from her that she wasn’t ready to give. It was a lot to process.

“We’re very pensive this evening, aren’t we?” Killian asked with a small smile. He too had been quiet.

“Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind,”

“No need to apologize, Swan,” he said, and it reminded her of another reason he wasn’t Neal. Perhaps she should start making a list.

“There’s something I’d like to tell you about,” Emma began once they’d finished eating, “but I think we’re going to need something a little stronger for this conversation,” she picked up her empty wine glass in show.

Killian nodded, moving immediately to take a bottle out of the cabinet. Rum, of course.

“Last night, there was something you said,” she told him, watching as he poured the alcohol for them. “You knew I’d been hurt before, and I think you should know about it,”

“You needn’t tell me if it makes you uncomfortable, love,”

Emma sighed, “That’s the thing, I know that I can share it with you. And I want to,” he didn’t reply, which she took as a cue to continue. “I met Neal when I was seventeen. I tried to steal a car that he had already stolen,” she laughed, and he raised an eyebrow. “I lived a much different life back then. Anyway, we fell in love, or so I thought, and we were together for a while, stealing what we needed to survive, planning to run away together after we’d had enough money. But Neal wanted to steal something bigger, some expensive watches, and when he got caught, he framed me. I went to jail for his crime,”

The silence that followed her story was deafening, and she shifted uncomfortably for a moment. “So that’s why I don’t do the whole ‘trust’ thing easily. I didn’t see it coming, and I should have.”

“Don’t blame yourself for that coward’s decisions, Emma,” his voice was quiet and restrained.

“I don’t. Or, I try not to. I know now that I was just a pawn, but it took me a long time to figure it out.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me, love,” he said, adding more alcohol to their glasses. “Well, while the rum is out, perhaps you’d like to hear my own depressing tale,” he joked, although his laugh wasn’t as hearty as she knew it to be.

“I met my first love, Milah, when I was a young lad. Twenty-three, actually. She was adventurous and a bit older, and I fell deeply in love. I didn’t know she had a husband and a son until almost a year later,”

“Shit,” Emma muttered, and he smiled.

“Aye, my sentiments exactly. But I was positively head over heels—young love and all that—so I stayed with her. We met in secret for a year after my little discovery, although it had really been secret the entire time. And then her husband forced her to move far away, I’m assuming he found out about me, and about six months after that, I’d heard that she had died in a car crash. I’m not sure if she ever truly loved me, or if she just saw me as some sort of rebellious freedom,” he finished.

“Aren’t we a pair,” she said after a few minutes.

“Aye, I believe we make quite the team, love,”

They ignored Emma’s movie collection and just spent the rest of the evening consuming the contents of the bottle on the table, bonding over shared (mostly heartbreaking) experiences. She knew she would regret the last few drinks in the morning, but that wasn’t important. What was important was that Emma now understood how Killian could know her so damn well.

And she couldn’t bring herself to mind at all.

As expected, a headache greeted Emma when she got up, and the light peeking in made the pounding against her skull much worse. She groaned as she pushed herself out of her bed, hoping very much that Killian wouldn’t be as chipper as he usually was in the morning.

A rather familiar green and disgusting-looking drink sat on the counter waiting for her. “Ah, the famous Jones hangover cure,” she mumbled, grabbing it and trying not to think about what she knew it contained.

“So you’ve heard of it,” Killian’s voice was much more subdued than usual.

“Yes, Liam has made it for me many times,” she explained, and he nodded thoughtfully. She downed the glass, holding her nose as she did so. “Gross,” she commented, placing the cup on the counter.

“True, but give it half an hour,” he said, turning off the stove. “I made us omelettes this morning,”

“I didn’t expect you to make breakfast...I don’t even think I could stand up for five minutes right now,”

“What can I say, I’m a creature of habit,” he grinned, handing her a plate full of food and moving towards the table to put down his own. “Besides, I very much enjoy cooking for you, Swan.”

“Why’s that?” She wondered, crossing the kitchen to place her plate directly beside his.

She looked up when he didn’t reply right away, just in time to see him reach up to scratch behind his ear, a nervous habit she’d noticed around day three. “Perhaps it’s because that was the first time I actually made you smile, that first morning,” he said quietly.

She stared at him for a moment, her brain processing his words much slower than its usual rate.

But then her lips were on his, and she couldn’t even remember actually closing the distance between them. One minute he was three feet away, the next minute, he wasn’t.

His body froze for just a fraction of a second before he responded, his hand coming up to tangle in her hair. Emma’s fingers played at the hair that rested at the nape of his neck as she stood on her toes just to be closer.

It was passionate and desperate and Emma could spend an eternity there, but before that could happen, Killian took one step to separate them. She looked at him for a moment, brow furrowed in a question.

“As much as I am enjoying this, love, and I am, I think we should stop before we take this elsewhere,”

She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“I’m not interested in a one-time thing, Emma. It’s important to me that you know that,”

“Oh,” was all she could say.

“Of course I want to, believe me, love. I just...I have a history of one night stands, and I don’t want you to think that’s what this is. One night with you would certainly not be enough,”

She blinked for a second. “I don’t want this to be a one night stand, Killian. That would be really difficult to pull off, too, because we’re kind of stuck here, remember?” She joked.

He chucked. “True, very true.” He scratched behind his ear again, “I wasn’t—I’m not rejecting you, love.”

“I know, and I understand. I also have been known to have a one night stand here or there, and I agree. Maybe jumping right in wouldn’t be the best course of action, here.”

In response, Killian bent down to place a much more chaste kiss on her lips.  

 Emma spent the next few hours reminding herself of his words, convincing herself that he wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t rejecting her. She knew it, it made sense, yet that part of her, that annoying little voice that liked to tell her she wasn’t enough, told her that he didn’t want her. At least, the little voice had been trying to, until Killian’s actions spoke louder.

They watched a movie instead of being productive, and he very neatly tucked her into his side as soon as they sat down. She couldn’t even pay attention as Ryan Reynolds was being yelled at by Sandra Bullock, because Killian kept tracing the back of her hand with his thumb.

 And then when the movie was over, he pulled her up off the couch, dragging her to the kitchen where he made her a hot chocolate. Killian found casual, normal, everyday reasons to touch her, and she loved it. It was the casual intimacy that she’d never had before, and it made her heart so full that it hurt.

“David, will you relax? We are not going to run out of toilet paper. We’re fine!” Emma tried to convince him. They’d been Skyping for about ten minutes in the living room when Killian came out of his (Liam’s) bedroom.

“I can just order you some. Right now. I’m on the site already,” David said, holding up his phone.

 “We have plenty, right Killian?” She asked, and he came over to sit beside her on the couch.

“Yes, mate, we’ve got enough to last us three months if need be,” he told him.

“I told you, David. You’re so dramatic,” Mary Margaret said, but there was so much love in her voice that it was clearly not an insult.

“Yeah, you and Killian could start a club,” Emma nudged him playfully.

Killian just shook his head, grinning at her. She couldn’t help but grin back.

“Emma?” Mary Margaret called.

“Yeah?”

“This might sound crazy, but are you two…is something going on between you two?”

Emma’s eyes widened, and she looked at Killian, no idea how to reply. He just gave this little encouraging nod, and she sighed. “Fine. You caught us,”

“I knew it!” Mary Margaret exclaimed.

“Okay, what? You just...started dating in the midst of a global catastrophe?” David interjected.

“It’s not like we planned it!” Emma said indignantly.

Killian beamed, “No, this was definitely not planned. Although, I couldn’t have picked a better person to be in quarantine with than you, love,”

Emma ignored Mary Margaret’s loud ‘awe’ and replied, “Damn right. You could say that we make a great quaranTeam,”

Killian pretended to be deeply offended by her terrible pun, putting a hand over his chest. “Swan, I daresay that was the worst pun I’ve ever heard,”

“What are you gonna do? Break up with me?” She cocked an eyebrow.

“I would never,” he said seriously, and it made her heart stop.

She was glad that she had an indefinite amount of time to figure that one out.

[thebirthbysleep]

𝐭𝐰𝐨. 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 :  six thousand, five hundred and thirty words

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 : avoiding rampaging navy soldiers, din is forced to stay on the pirate ship until they reach land. she grows distasteful that she is no longer homebound, and now the conversation regarding her curse continues to come up.

she’s sleep again.

in her sleep, din would forget who she was as she was reduced to dust at the mercy of traumatising dreams from which she could not wake. any child, upon awakening from a terror in the deepest level of sleep, would cry into their parents arms, and would be comforted with warm and hushed encouragements. and as the tears stop, they can find themselves slowly falling back asleep. because the comfort is there, the arms in which they feel safest are stretched wide open and the dark doesn’t bother them anymore. no monster under the bed can peep out, no ghost in the corner of the room can reach them. their dreams, plagued by the darkest parts of the human imagination, become forgotten memories as the second wave of sleep hits. 

din wasn’t so lucky in that regard. she had no arms to run into, she couldn’t even awake from the nightmares; she would simply be put into another, and fight back the tears of fear whilst facing another demon, another fear, another beast hidden in the back of her mind, placed into a plane from which she could not escape. there wasn’t a time where she was not in a dream, even after she spent minutes in the tower, she would be thrown into a whirlpool of darkness, to return to further suffering.

it was expected at this point, that if she ever sleeps again the nightmares would follow her, a stalking of the soul that would only results in the further shattering of something that barely existed anymore. din found herself feeling like a coward with each passing year, weak at the raging vendetta of vengeful greek gods. the effect of the curse working, the gods rendering her powerless, and her will to fight back reduced to the size of a speck.

in this dream, din found peace for the first time. nothing bad happened, but neither did anything good come to happen as well. she was stuck in a pond where she floated, ears hovering above the water where she could hear the tweeting of birds and the familiar rustling of leaves in the trees which would fall into the pond as if to kiss the surface where the nymph laid. they sensed her, they sensed every part of her. they sensed that something good and pure had fallen into the pond just like a leaf picked off on autumn, meeting the flower with its fellow kin, to be blown into the wind just like all the others.

it was a strange feeling but din felt like she was home. the nostalgia floating in tepid water, the running of streams of the grotto she familiarised herself with. it was heaven. she could almost reach the pearly clouds and the blue sky that greeted her, the sun smiling down upon her warm face,

causing her cheeks to rush rosy. it was odd, but din felt herself stand, her feet touching the smooth rocks at the bottom of the pond.

and that’s when she saw the fishes swimming in colonies, flocking to their families and picking off the algae growing on rocks. an orchestra of croaking frogs came behind her, following by a symphony of crickets which created the most magnificent music piece known to man; ambiance.

here, din stood for god knows how long, bathing and playing with water as if to familiarize herself with an old hobby, like picking up a pencil to draw years after closing the sketch pad and letting it collect dust. this was home, whenever this was. a memory, not a dream; her mind wouldn’t know how to create something so raw with nature’s perfection, it was a memory and even her doubts told her it was a memory. one which she wished to linger in for eternity. she could never get lonely here.

but all dreams must come to an end and this one was no exception.

din opened icy eyes to a strange environment. below her was a soft mattress, her body entangled in sheets and a pillow at her side which she had embraced tightly. it was the only occasion where the girl could confirm that she felt refreshed upon waking up. it didn’t land on her that she was somewhere strange until she heard a small hum from beside her.

sat on the edge of the bed, rosé glanced down at the half-awake nymph with curiosity. seconds later, din squeaked and jumped up, scurrying back and nearly falling off the bed on the other side. it was only then when the memories of yesterday came flooding back, but din found herself too dazed to scowl. to scream and scold as she did best.

“ good morning, sleeping beauty. we’ve set course to a lovely place in the mediterranean. i don’t know whether you’ve been to venice; i hear it’s beautiful ”, rosé said with a cheeky grin, din continued to stare at her with flustered round eyes, blonde hair caught in a nest which would only infer that she had slept well. what made it almost comical was the way in which the nymph held the pillow so tightly to her chest. “ captain said he has some sources over there; sea witches who could point us in the right direction. we’re going to get rid of your curse, dinnie~! ”.

getting rid of her curse? that didn’t sound right. din said she would be doing it alone and would require no help from the people who parents were the only reason she had gotten the curse anyway. she was stubborn, she wouldn’t allow her pride to be further injured by just subjecting herself to obedience just because they had volunteered to help and claimed themselves to be innocent children.

but it was far too late to be complaining about that now, especially as she laid in a bed in a small cabin where she assumed someone else slept, unless if this was a spare. she saw the lack of decorations and things that would normally personalise something as intimate as a room. needless to say, aside from being in a strange room, she had also fallen into a pirate ship which was no sailing in the middle of nowhere. the ship she thought would be going to athens was probably halfway through its journey by now, but then she realised she wouldn’t have been able to go.

because the sailor whom she brought the ticket off of turned on her, pointed a finger and cried witch, and the ottoman soldiers came in with the intention of doing god knows what to harm the nymph. it wasn’t safe to beg for a return. she couldn’t just snatch the wheel off the captain’s hand, she didn’t know how to sail a ship. and by far the most important detail, was that she hated the sea.

it was easy to say that she was eager to get on land as soon as possible, whether it be venice or anywhere else in the world; she would see land and she would vanish, she would start making her way home no matter what she did.

her thoughts came to a stop as din let her eyes fall onto her figure and found herself wearing something she definitely never recalled owning; a sky blue sleeping gown that went just past her knees and she quickly adjusted the ends as it had risen, bringing a flood of redness spilling onto her cheeks. “ who changed my clothes last night? ”, she asked through a mumble. 

“ oh, i did! ”. the nerve of this girl to sound so proud had din’s head spinning. rosé continued to grin. “ i lent you one of my many fancy sleeping gowns. you were in that white dress for a hundred years, and a lady should always have nice clothes at her disposal. so i hope you’re comfortable. i can get you something nice after breakfast. “

at that, her stomach croaked and ached. the nymph only shuddered and refused to look at aphrodite’s daughter as she stood and chuckled, seemingly amused by such comedic timing even though din was hours away from becoming a skeleton. she hadn’t finished eating her dinner last night, the pita bread and the mead left to be collected and thrown to others. it broke din’s starving heart.

“ up you get! don’t worry, i won’t be bringing you on deck now. i know you might be feeling slightly uncomfortable after yesterday ”, rosé continued, now on her feet and looking through something in a wardrobe; din daren’t look, it wasn’t her business. “ marcato will whip you up something nice. he feeds us quite well, none of that icky sailor food most pirates tend to eat. ”

din hesitated, her legs falling to the side of the bed and her bare feet now touching the wooden floors. she was confused on why she still felt pain at the soles, like something was digging into them. until she recalled the thorn path, and the scars it would leave on her physical body. she thought it would heal given her curse of immortality, yet not a patch of skin had nursed itself back; it was not good. how was she to traverse lands whilst aiming to get back home?

“ are you hurt? ”.

even rosé sounded pleasantly surprised by the voice coming from the door. din quickly adjusted the skirt of her sleeping gown and did everything she could to avoid looking at sephtis. by far the most awkward encounter she’s had yet; she’d cursed his mother the most, her personal grudge towards hecate running rampant.

he leaned by the door, and had taken notice of how din had been studying her aching feet with a small sneer on her face. “ don’t worry, seph. i’ll get marcato to patch her up nicely. what is it, din? a cut or a bruise? ”, din really didn’t want to be showing them her feet, it felt odd.

“ a scar. it’s still healing ”, she murmured and heard another hum from sephtis who then approached her and leaned down in front of her, observing the scar that her run to the side of her feet, raging with redness and aching to brush against. she had to look away.

sephtis observed in silence, “ rose thorns. they usually have this fungus growing in them that scars and swells up the injury it leaves. where did you get these from? ”. no answer, din didn’t need to respond when he could guess it for himself. “ i see. i thought you were immortal, aren’t you usually supposed to heal quickly? ”.

“ i still feel pain and gets scars like any other mortal ”, din said defensively, almost moving to show the other scar she had gained on her stomach but that was something far too intimate and private, a memory she liked to bury in a black hole somewhere in her mind. “ i-i don’t know why this isn’t healing. ”

“ enchanted thorns? ”, rosé suggested from beside her, placing a change of clothes folded neatly beside the nymph and tapped her chin. it was a cute habit. “ hardly seen in real life, most likely fabricated in that period of sleep you were in. ” din scowled, she disliked how they brought it up so casually, hardly with any caution that it might bring hurt to the nymph.

sephtis sighed after standing, “ i don’t know. but i’ll ask marc to whip up a remedy for the swelling and burning sensation. if she’s like this then we can’t really explore venice with much comfort. ” upon saying so, he turned and walked to the door. hesitated. but then left, leaving din staring at the wall in front of her and clenching the bed sheets under her trembling hands.

rosé quickly took notice and beamed care-freely. “ i know it may seem strange now, you’re on a pirate ship with people you most likely despise with a passion. i can’t blame you. but . . . we thought that maybe if you were going to return home, getting rid of your curse was perhaps the first thing you should do ”, she stated, din stared hard at her. “ in case something bad happens and all of this repeats again. and you suffered long enough, it’s about time you get back to your life. ”

din snorted bitterly, “ what life? i don’t remember anything from my life in the grotto. all my kin have passed, my parents are no longer with me and the grotto has perhaps become just another stream for men to drink from. ” she bit her lip. “ mortal men care little for the care we nymphs have for nature. the nature they go on to ruin. which is why i have to go back, even if i’m there alone. ”

“ seems like a lonely life, does it not? ”. the nymph blinked, taken aback. “ even if you’re home, you’d still be alone. it’s rather sad. ”

it wouldn’t be lonely, din wanted to say. but she didn’t like lying to herself. in fact, she knew it would be lonely. yet then again, she wouldn’t have anything to compare it to. her memories of the grotto had been whipped completely, she didn’t know anyone, so she had no one to miss.

it would be lonely, but it was home.

rosé got up and shrugged gently, placing the change of clothes within din’s reach, but before she could walk off, din had to ask something that had been gnawing at her mind since last night. in her dreams, it was pleasantly forgotten; but now it was important. she didn’t know whether rosé would be honest, but she still dared to ask.

“ last night ”, she stated. rosé stopped. “ at the inn. you said it was the man who found me and ratted me out as a witch. was it really him, or was it another pirate tactic to get me aboard your ship? ”.

rosé observed her for a while, to the point where din avoided her gaze, the air thick with an awkward tension. had she said something that brought offense? she knew it was a bold claim to make, but honesty goes a long way.

“ din. ”

the nymph looked up.

rosé offered her a warm smile, nothing like the cheshire grin she had gotten used to. “ we don’t like playing dirty. that’s something i can promise you. we’re not our parents in that sense. we like honesty. and we wouldn’t make this up just to get you onboard. we want to help ”, she said. “ just as we’d help any other person with your circumstances. ”

din rose a brow. “ okay. maybe not any other person. we owe it to you. our parents wrong you, and we’re here to correct it. it mustn’t be nice to kill all who you touch, and live out some of your closest friends. where’s the fun in that? ”. rosé’s words seemed genuine. din was no professional lie-catcher, but nymphs never lied, sworn to pure honesty. she could tell when someone was being anything but purely honest. but rosé had surprised her.

it was pleasant, in a way, to learn that they carried good intentions. but her rage was still boiling, she still hadn’t forgotten what they’d done beyond putting her to sleep for a century. they destroyed all that she loved. and yes, her sorrow cost three hundred lives; at the expense of the god’s betrayal, of course, giving her a gift she hadn’t asked for and cursing her with immense trickery which was probably funny from where they saw it. to her, it was anything but. never once had she laughed whilst stuck in that night-mare dimension, not even a smile.

it was only sorrow, painful sorrow.

“ we’re going to make this right. we owe it to you in a way ”, rosé continued, tapping her foot against the floors. “ i don’t really regret touching that gold. it awoke someone who will now give us the chance of an adventure of a life-time, and we’d be doing something for a good cause. ”

the nymph glowered, “ i’m not a compass. ”

“ no. you’re not ”, rosé quickly corrected herself. “ but you must understand, the whole concept of piracy is deemed a taboo. and we’ve sort of allowed ourselves into a self-fulfilling prophecy. we do pillage and steal and fight. with you onboard, it’s going the first time we’ll be venturing out for a good cause. we’re not heading off into the world to steal to survive. we’ll be helping you. and god knows, you deserve it. ”

it was deemed too perfect of an opportunity for din to accept. for all she knew she could be dumped back onto the hands of these gods and perhaps killed. she didn’t trust the kids yet, she couldn’t bring herself to do so when she still ached so much. deities weren’t good beings, they were selfish and it was painful to see the respect normal mortals held for them. they allowed their own personal grudges to have an impact on the world.

she wasn’t sure if it was true but she’d heard that after the fall of the january festival, there was ten consecutive days of rain that brought about a flood in the coastal region; poseidon’s doing, no less. demeter’s anger killed most of the crops. most gods allowed their anger to run wild and it hurt the greek population more than din’s storm did.

it was ironic, and unfair. yet she was perfectly comfortable with accepting the role as the antagonist. she had the perfect tragic backstory to become one. although most antagonists wind up crushed under the weight of the gods, din promised to be sly.

but right now, at that very moment, she had no choice but to comply. strand on a ship in the middle of the mediterranean, she would have to play along and then flee when they got to venice. it was the only way. would she be alone again? yes. but better alone than with these people.

she hadn’t noticed how quiet she’d gotten, and when she looked up, rosé was still smiling, but now sat beside her. din could only raise the corner of her lip and bow her head in slight dismay, squeaking when she felt what appeared to be a pair of cherry lips pressing against her cheek. rosé then quickly stood up. “ i’ll ask marc to get your breakfast ”, she said and then left, leaving a blushing din recovering holding her cheek, heart hammering.

the only worry she had, was that the charm of these demi-gods would be too much for her aching heart to handle.

･ ｡ﾟ.˚⊹･゜

the clothes felt weird.

as a nymph, din was used to no clothes at all. most nymphs would display their bodies and cover themselves with leafs around intimate parts, and took to nature to decorate their hair and bodies similar to how a mortal would craft jewelry and accessories from gold and stones.

the first time din saw her reflection after a century, she didn’t recognize herself. she hadn’t realized she had blonde hair quite like the locks she owned, and her eyes perhaps weren’t as azure as before. oddly, she thought back to the girl in her dreams. and how their features were basically swapped. for reasons unknown, she found the girl’s beauty far more striking than what the nymph saw in the mirror.

regardless, she fixed the tight waist-coast hugging her torso, the sleeves of the white shirt rolled up as they were a little long. the skirt was by far her favorite part; navy blue, her favorite color, and it went just past her ankles. shoes polished and clicking against all they touched, din thought that she could very well pass as a peasant girl, or maybe a maid or cook working on a ship. ordinary, just the way she liked it.

she remained uncertain of what to do with her hair, and in the end, let it fall loose after brushing it.

what was for breakfast was unknown to her, but it smelt nice when she stepped out onto the hallway, hands grazing against the walls to keep herself balanced. although it was a big ship and the water seemed calmer, din was still disturbed by the trembling and wading just as any person with a fear of the ocean would feel.

“ din! you’re up, that’s good! ”.

marcato sounded pleasant that morning, he had an air to him that was identical to his father’s. but apollo was more of a flamboyant god with smiles that could blind; what she now stared at was an almost exact replica coated in timidity.

in his hands, he held two wooden bowls and she spotted what appeared to be porridge with honey and chopped bananas on the stop, and she held her stomach so it wouldn’t cry out at the sight of something so divine.

she was seconds away from forgetting her manners, but she composed herself as the male placed the one bowl down on the table and beckoned her over. din gave a suspicious look around, marcato seemingly knowing why. “ don’t worry, i asked everyone to stay on deck so you can eat in peace. daeva is quite grumpy during the morning, and griffin is too loud ”, the sunny boy laughed and began to eat from the other bowl. “ dig in before it gets cold. ”

with some hesitation, din complied, lifting her spoon and observing the oats. could a ship like this really house such incredible ingredients? she wasn’t certain whether they had just stolen it or had someone make it for them, but din was impressed. from inside, it was already far prettier than the paladin, which she was supposed to have sailed off in that morning.

the thought of what would’ve happened to her on that vessel, aboard with only men, with a rumor flying around of her being a witch; din didn’t wish to linger on it. so with a shudder, she began to eat.

“ i know this hardly seems like a pirate ship. but it’s home for us ”, marcato said after a few silent spoonfuls. “ griffin usually fixes it when we’ve set course somewhere. he gets quite busy. he strengthened the thickness of the walls of the gallows, so our food and goods don’t get hurt by impacts or accidents. ”

din stopped, spoon hovering by her lips. “ how often would i have to worry about any of those happening? ”. marcato chuckled, but din didn’t mean to be funny, she was quite serious.

luck isn’t something din would say accompanied her on a regular, but she’s been having quite a lot of it after she woke up in regards to food. the food at the inn was something she wouldn’t quite forget, and this breakfast was no different. care was put into it, something about the softness of marcato’s hands justified this. the sweetness rolled right off her tongue.

“ are you feeling better? you completely blacked out after you came aboard last night ”, din had forgotten this entirely. to her, she was brought to a comfortable bed and slept soundlessly. that dream then came afterwards and she found peace. only to be awoken by rosé looming beside her.

her lips trembled for a moment, “ i’m fine. i just have a slight phobia of open water. makes me sick. besides, my plans were spoiled. maybe it was anger or just total panic that brought around a total collapse. ”

“ maybe it was pain, as well ”, marcato set his bowl of porridge behind him and went towards a cupboard where he pulled out a vial. a remedy. they’d really asked him to make her something for her injuries. her toes curled slightly, wondering if it would sting or hurt any further than the excessive burning on the scars on her soles. “ this will do the trick. ”

“ you don’t have t— ”.

“ i do ”, marcato said quickly, walking on over to her and sitting in front of her after pulling up a chair. “ it wouldn’t feel right to have an injured person aboard. i can tell you’re hurting. comes with being the son of the god of disease and healing. ”

could he sleep knowing someone nearby was in pain, she wondered. marcato motioned to her shoes, and after finishing her breakfast, din slipped the small heels off and hugged her knees to her chest, feeling bashful and she stopped the young man as he went to pour the medicine onto a cotton bud. “ can i do it myself? ”, she questioned.

he moved to give her the bud, but she shook her head. he would have to place it on the table, because if she touching something he was holding, she would make it disappear. it was just like what occurred with daeva’s sword the other day.

“ ah, your power. ”

marcato applied more of the oil-like substance onto the bud and then placed it on the table. and din took it quickly, and slowly dabbed it against the scars which would most likely turn purple if they hadn’t been treated any sooner. it didn’t hurt or sting to apply the medicine, to her pleasant surprise. “ it smells nice ”, she murmured. “ like— ”.

“  —chrysanthemums? i add floral scents to my medicine ”, the healer said, cheeks dusted pink like he’d just shared a timid secret. “ it makes the healing experience pleasant. most medicines smell like bitter herbs, and floral scents relax people. ”

din chuckled vaguely, amused by the confession. although she was forced to agree; floral scents were one of the many wonders of the world. they came in huge quantities and distinctions. subconsciously, din thought back to the grotto, and wondered whether she would familiarize with these blessed scents.

flowers were truly the gift of the world. it was as if persephone traced every single one with precision, and then breathed life into it. there wasn’t a flower that din didn’t know, but she hoped that perhaps she would come across others on her way back home.

in these thoughts, din hardly took notice of how quickly the scars were healing; like magic. she continued to picture the wind of colors that came with leafs and flowers. it was a form of meditation for her, she just had to picture what mattered to her the most. her thoughts ran wild of what beauties she would find back home.

“ do you have a favorite flower? ”.

she immediately shook her head, “ i don’t. it wouldn’t be fair to pick a favorite when they have so much value, one matters just as much as the other. medicine, food, beverages, most also aid in the care of our world. i love each one, even the ones i may not know about. ” with that said, din looked up at marcato. “ do you? ”.

“ u-uh, verbascum clementine, maybe. especially the ones with the faint yellow or orange color. i would say sunflower but . . . ”. din chuckled again, it would be self-explanatory. “ b-but i also like lavenders. ” marcato met her gaze shyly.

before she could conjure a response, din heard a noise from the entrance of the kitchen and spotted somnia. daughter of hypnos, and that morning, din didn’t find any energy to insult or argue. “ captain is calling all of us on deck, he says it’s urgent ”, somnia said and yawned into her hand, before taking a quick leave.

din glanced back down at the soles of her feet and found the redness fading and the swelling would soon be over. so she slipped her shoes back on and picked up her bowl of porridge and brought it over to what appeared to be a sink. “ y-you don’t have to wash it! ”.

it would be impolite if she didn’t, but the captain was calling, and she didn’t want to be the one keeping people waiting. so she left it on the side, adjusting her clothes before following marcato onto the deck.

what was difficult was getting up the stairs without feeling like she would tumble back, but she broke through into the sunlight which blinded her, her hands quickly thrown before her eyes in an attempt to protect them. she could hear the waves crashing from below, but the sound amplified as she stepped out, her stomach spinning with anxiety.

but as her eyes slowly adjusted, she blinked and was welcomed by a sight unlike any other. it was most definitely the most stunning ship she’d come to see, polished and clean, not a hole or crack in sight. it smelled of fresh paint and sea water, a funny mixture yet one that didn’t irritate or cause strange sensations.

“ morning, din! ”.

she heard griffin call from the side. the son of hephaestus didn’t share many resemblances to his father aside from the ears and perhaps the pouted lips. griffin was boyish, with dimples and muscles in every sense. she knew his father lingered with cyclopses, creatures unharmed by flames and also master smiths and creators.

marcato was right in saying that the ship looked so pleasant due to griffin’s seemingly strive at perfection. everything was precisely placed; who on earth would’ve guessed this to be a pirate ship?

“ busy so early in the morning? ”, she asked, feeling comfortable to talk to him the most out of everyone else in the crew. she continued to hold a hand against her forehead to avoid being blinded, whilst approaching a working griffin. “ what are you doing? ”.

griffin sniffled and then raked a hand through his brown hair, “ adding some metal onto the cannon side. not a thick sheet so it shouldn’t weight that much, but usually when we engage in sea warfare, our port cannons get butchered. we’ve lost two in our encounter in tortuga. so we can’t really repeat the same mistakes. ”

din wouldn’t have known that they suffered during warfare for how cared for the ship was. but as she looked deeply, she saw minor scratches on the edge of the port side, scars gained from engaging with people who had far more experience. but she thought of piracy of something like an apprenticeship; you learn on the way, and usually end up knowing more than scholars.

“ you seem to know quite a lot ”, she uttered, mostly under her breath but griffin picked it up with some ease.

he even laughed, setting down a hammer he held onto the floor and rubbing his scarred hands. “ i hear that a lot. i’ve been on the run from bitter gods for a while. maybe since i was fifteen or sixteen. when cap found me, i’d already gone through about four different crews ”, he revealed. “ two spanish ones, one french and one portuguese. i was always the mechanic, but i know a thing or two about sea warfare and the gamble that it is. ”

din almost didn’t hear what he said after he revealed something. about being on the run. well, it was no wonder she felt fonder of him than she did for the others. but it confused her; his father wasn’t a bitter man, he was fine serving as a blacksmith and being overworked to the brink of exhaustion. why would griffin be on the run? unless if hephaestus wasn’t the one he was avoiding.

and griffin spotted her confusion, “ my dad is alright. it’s his lovely spouse who makes things a little . . . complicated. she found out he pursued a mortal when she left him to be with ares, went absolutely insane. i guess it’s only because of rosé that i’m safe. ”

din turned her attention to where he nodded, on the quarterdeck, where the daughter of aphrodite sat chatting away with marcato and sephtis. “ i owe her a lot. she fools around a lot but she’s quite protective. i couldn’t have asked for a better half-sister. even if she annoys me half to death ”, with a snort, griffin turned back to his work.

･ ｡ﾟ.˚⊹･゜

the meeting didn’t come as urgently as din had expected, it took about an hour for the pirates to sort out an issue they were having with the gunpowder that was apparently weighing the boat down. whilst they disputed in the captain’s cabin, din took the time to explore the ship.

there wasn’t exactly much she could do other than walk around the deck. at first she didn’t advance onto the forecastle deck which was stationed right at the end of the ship, but it came to a point where boredom led her there, gentle steps finding her atop this elevated platform that allowed a view of the sea ahead of them that would scare but amaze every person.

to din, it was a matter of picturing the ship was the biggest component to the image. she couldn’t think of how big some waves could get, how easily this ship could be engulfed by one of poseidon’s murderers. the sea was an angry monster, hungry; it would swallow all it wanted. that was where her fear of it stemmed from.

it was no a matter of the beasts that laid within the waves; it was the ocean it itself, in its entire greatness and immense size, and the phenomenons that occur. whirlpools were by far her greatest fears; a large cyclone, a crack in the water sucking in all that couldn’t resist its great pull.

the very thought had the nymph cringing.

“ what are you doing out here? ”.

daeva.

din resisted the urge to roll her eyes and turned to glance at the male with a clenched jaw, “ am i not allowed? ”. what the nymph found was that her mood derailed the moment daeva opened his mouth or so much as came near here, it started the moment he pointed the sword at her yesterday; a foolish mistake, now she wanted him as good as dead.

“ no, you are. but the meeting is starting soon ”, daeva grunted, motioning over to where the pirates had gathered; just in the main deck, a map stretched out on a wide area with the captain pointing at certain places. at that, din moved past daeva, almost bumping into him on her way out of the forecastle.

she came to find theseus explaining the plan once they’d arrived in venice. by the nods he was getting, most agreed, and he politely rose his head when din approached. “ oh, you’re here! good, we were just going to ask you whether you’ve heard of tortuga ”, he said with a boyish grin.

tortuga? well, from what she’d heard, these pirates had wrecked havoc and had managed to tick off a couple of french soldiers. was it wise to put your feet back there when you had a navy after you?

“ yeah, i guess i have. ”

sephtis pointed to the island on the map, a mere speck opposed to the other islands of the caribbean. “ theseus says there’s a sea witch who apparently deals with curses. where in the island, i don’t know. but she’s there. and she hasn’t had many visitors in a few centuries ”, he explained.

din frowned, “ wait, weren’t you going to venice? ”.

“ we are ”, somnia cut in. “ but not because of the curse. we need to stack up on resources if we’re going to journey across the atlantic. we also need to find any island to stop at in case we have to hide. there are a few islands in between europe and the caribbean, and we need to find every single one. ” she nodded to griffin. “ he said the italians will help. ”

din looked at the taller male and he gave her a smile, “ relax, i know a couple of guys over there. they’re expert at maps. probably know territories we’d never even imagine. with the ottomans pissed off, the royal navy basically roaming the seas, and the french after us, we’ll need to be sneaky. ”

now she stepped closer to the map, and saw the lack of land in the atlantic aside from the huge continents of which she already knew. she pointed her index finger against the coast of africa, “ we might find a chain of islands here, and then cross directly into the caribbean. the shorter the distance, the better. but we also have to avoid following the trail of europeans colonizers. they’ll kill us. ”

“ well, we just about ticked off every european monarchy under the map. unless if we take down one of the ships at sea and steal their flag and clothes ”, theseus proposed, and griffin immediately shook his head. “ what’s wrong? ”.

griffin crossed his arms, “ we don’t have a lot of people in our crew. they usually carry twenty to thirty men in every ship. it’s fine that we have a small crew since we’re pirates, but the european ships will get suspicious. for that plan to work, we need more crew members. ”

“ we need to pick up more, then ”, rosé said pleasantly. “ i say we’ll find some as we cross the mediterranean. for now, we should focus on getting to venice, finding our sources, and we’ll pick up new members on the way. ” the girl clapped her hands, as if the meeting was over. “ great! now can we pick up more speed to get to italy sooner? ”.

theseus held a finger in waiting, and glanced carefully at din. “ i understand if you might be suspicious of coming with us. but we want the best for you, din ”, he said, bringing the nymph to frown more. “ this sea witch . . . she’s dangerous, but she’s our only hope. at least that we know of. we can break your curse if you want. ”

god, she wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible. and although the course had already been set and plans had been made, din was still resilient in joining them. in fear of putting her life at risk. she couldn’t die, but if she was jailed or imprisoned by officers on sea, it would be another period of imprisonment. and it wouldn’t be long before she was trialed with piracy.

she couldn’t risk it, and she wouldn’t.

yet the sly nymph to look the pirates in the eyes and nod.

“ i’ll come with you.”

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨.

[rubykgrant]

Have you never seen Invader ZIM before, but now that the movie is out, you want to know what all the hub-bub is about? Ah, but maybe you don’t want to watch the WHOLE show (although, it isn’t that long and extensive), you just want some episodes to help you get a feel for what it is? Here-

(FYI, for those who aren’t familiar, Invader ZIM has elements of dark humor as well as gross-out moments. I’ll just to put little *warnings for what I remember, so you can avoid something potentially upsetting)

The Nightmare Begins (first episode, introduces the main characters and sets up the show. not much to warn about... yet. some cartoon violence here and there, nothing graphic)

Germs (ZIM becomes panicked about the germs on Earth after watching a sci-fi movie. mildly gross moments, being about germs and all, icky food is a factor)

The Wettening (after both Dib and ZIM discover that the pollution in the water can harm the space alien, they begin a water war. the water causes ZIM’s skin to burn/sizzle, somewhat uncomfortable to see)

Door to Door (after hearing about a “mystery prize”, ZIM is determined to sell the most candy bars and win it, but he gets rather carried away. more icky food moments, including a moment where a character vomits and somebody coughs-up the sawdust that the candy bars are made out of)

Game Slave 2 (Dib’s sister Gaz waits in line for a new gaming system, only to be cheated out of it by another kid. She does not take this well. fairly tame episode regarding disturbing content, perhaps the most jarring is the “colony of rat people” who have become lost in the depths of a parking garage)

Battle of the Planets (there are strange formations on Mars that ZIM investigates, all while Dib does some investigating of his own, leading him to another planet in the solar system. again, mostly just cartoony action)

Halloween Spectacular of Spooky Doom (Dib is seeing more creepy stuff than normal, even for him. It isn’t just because of Halloween, there is another Nightmare World full of monsters that wish to escape. Both Dib and ZIM get pulled into it. fairly disturbing and disgusting scenes; Dib’s head is a portal to the Nightmare World, and at one point he is sent to the “Crazy House for Boys”, which is an upsetting mental institution image. the monsters are not quite horrific, but they are indeed creepy. at one point the robot Gir eats way too much candy, and it gets a bit gross to watch)

Mysterious Mysteries (a TV shows finally gives Dib a chance to talk about his space aliens theories regarding ZIM, and awkward reenactments are the result. opens with a character that seems to be a person who says incoherent nonsense that people think might be insightful, but the visual gag involves the character character being “over weight and gross”, which is an unpleasant stereo-type. at one point ZIM has a small communication device that he needs to hide, so he says it is his “medication”, and painfully swallows it)

Megadoomer (ZIM accidentally is sent a robotic weapon he thinks will help him conquer earth, but it is far more trouble than it is worth. another fairly mild episode, with general cartoon mayhem/violence that doesn’t get graphic)

Lice (an outbreak of lice at school makes most of the kids miserable, but ZIM seems to be immune. Dib also finds somebody who seems to be even more obsessed with unlikely theories than he is. lots of itching/scratching going on due to the lice, will probably make you feel itchy just watching it. a scene involving a “Lice Queen” similar to that of the Alien Queen from the “Alien” movies is a bit gross and graphic)

Abducted (ZIM has to deal with space aliens who are even more clueless than himself, even when he takes of his disguise they still insist he’s a human, and they plan on “fusing” him in an experiment... they tape a gopher to his head. pretty tame, these other space aliens aren’t very good at what they do, so nothing graphic happens)

The Sad, Sad Tale of Chickenfoot (Dib is determined to dis-prove what he believes to be a fake supernatural creature. gross factor involving disgusting fast-food, and a character wearing a mascot costume for way too long to the point that is has gotten yucky)

Gir goes Crazy and Stuff (in an effort to make Gir more helpful, ZIM locks the robot into “duty mode”, and Gir actually turns out to be more efficient than ZIM. the visuals aren’t too disturbing, but there are somewhat upsetting implications regarding ZIM switching a man’s brain with a squid, and a a child who has been forced to be perpetually happy even when they feel pain)

Tak: The Hideous New Girl (a new kid in class seems interested in both ZIM and Dib, and ZIM attempts to use this opportunity to learn more about earthling relationships. however, she takes every chance she can get to cause him harm, and seems to have her own insidious plans. mostly just the cartoon mayhem and violence again)

Backseat Drivers from Beyond the Stars (ZIM wants his leaders to finally come and see what a “good job” he’s doing, Dib has been tinkering with a space ship, and on the side there is a resistance force who wish to defy the Irken Empire. also another episode without mush going on in the gross departments, silly action scenes for the most part)

Mortos der Soulstealer (a very real mystical monster is summoned by Dib, but it is far more annoying than majestic. only minor instances of gross food, nothing extreme)

ZIM Eats Waffles (Dib is finally able to observe ZIM inside his base... and nothing seems to be recording properly. lots of eating of waffles, they start out normal but more disgusting until it becomes a little sickening)

The Voting of the Doomed (a school election seems like a perfect way to gain power over the students for ZIM, so Dib does what he can to help an opposing candidate win. a disturbing sequence, though not visually graphic, in which a student has their “free will” removed in a way that is implied to be painful)

The Most Horrible X-Mas Ever (a futuristic robotic snowman tells the story of an X-Mas where ZIM and Dib clashed. mostly just carton violence again)

(If there are more warnings people would like to add, please feel free!)

[neverwatchedonepiece]

499-504: “The Battle Against the Big Tiger! Who Is Going to Be Captain?!”, “Freedom Taken Away! the Nobles' Plot Closing in On the Brothers!”, “The Fire Has Been Set! the Gray Terminal in Crisis!”, “Where Can Freedom be Found? A Sad Departure of a Boy!”, “Take Good Care of Him! A Letter from the Brother!” and “To Live Up To The Promise! Departures Of Their Own!”

R.I.P. Sabo.....?

I watched six episodes in a row and it was totally worth it.

Mobile users better limber up those scrollin fingers because this post is about to get long.

Quick 499 Filler Summary (so I can move on to the good stuff...)

I hate watching filler when I don’t know it’s filler. It messes up my sense of canon. I end up analyzing it, then get annoyed when I realise it was a waste of time. Still, I’m glad I picked up on Sabo telling Ace’s family secret in front of the old Filler Pirate from 498. Even though his character had only just been introduced, I knew he wasn’t the type to blab. Glad you guys pointed that out.

To sum up 499:

1. The boys have no luck with Big Tiger, so they train with Filler Pirate.

2. Ace is shocked to learn Filler Pirate does not loathe Roger.

3. Filler Pirate is returning to the sea to find his old crew. The boys end up helping him build a ship.

4. They train under Filler Pirate. With the power of friendship, they defeat Big Tiger together (without needing catnip, thanks Sabo!)

5. Filler Pirate teaches Ace Pirate Life Lessons such as: there is more to being a pirate captain than strength. Only your crew’s approval makes you a good captain.

6. Filler Pirate heads out to see. Bye, bye Naguri the Filler Pirate!

Now for the good stuff...

Poor People Blood Is Icky

Episode 500 opened on an ominous note. Not only was the title sinister but a literal storm ripped apart the boys’ refuge in the forest. Nice foreshadowing there.

To repair their hideout, Ace, Sabo and Luffy searched Grey Terminal for scraps. They were ambushed by Bluejam and Sweaty Chins. (Never found out his name, so Sweaty Chins he shall remain.) 

Instead of thinking, “Hey, maybe my terrible parenting caused Sabo to run away?” Sweaty Chins pinned the blame on Ace and Luffy, the nasty common children. They had tempted Sabo to run away. They were after his money. Ace did not like that latter comment one bit and tried to fight back. Bluejam smacked him and, horror of horrors, got some of Ace’s blood on Sweaty Chins’ face. 

Because everyone knows if you get poor blood on you, you might catch poor, right?

Poor Sabo begged them not to harm Ace and Luffy. “They’re important to me! They’re my brothers!” Of course, Sweaty Chins pulled the old, “If you come with me, they won’t be harmed.” Dying inside, Sabo agreed.

Sabo returned to his gilded prison. Ace and Luffy were dragged to Bluejam’s hideout. He tried to convince Ace and Luffy to stay away from Luffy. He told them Sabo only escaped to Grey Terminal as a mockery of the people who live there, that Sabo really looked down on them as an amusement to make himself feel superior. Of course Ace and Luffy did not buy his bullshit, so he said straight up that if they cared about Sabo, they’d have to let him go.

Weirdly, Bluejam gave them a job as couriers. I’m still not sure if this was because he genuinely wanted to recruit Ace and Luffy into his crew or if he wanted them to be part of the bomb plot and laugh as they realised they’d helped destroy Grey Terminal.

I Fell Into The Burning Ring Of Fire

Back in High Town, Sweaty Chins was hard at work trying to erase Sabo’s criminal record. He can do this because he has cash and social clout. Sweaty Chins tried hard not to part with cash, urging Sabo to lie. He had been tempted into those criminal acts by feral bandit children, after all.

Because Sabo isn’t awful, he refused to drop his brothers in it. Sweaty Chins kicked his chair away (excellent parenting there) and bribed the guard to erase Sabo’s record. Problem solved! Now he could become a good, obedient noble again. Hurrah!

Then things got weird...

Back at Sabo’s home, Mr and Mrs Sweaty Chins had adopted a sinister noble child called Stelly. The name might resemble Stelio Kontos, but this kid is nowhere near as cool. Stelly was replacement, in case Sabo didn’t work out, apparently. Lovely.

Turned out Stelly had a big mouth. He blabbed to Sabo that the Nobles of High Town had planned a spate of Social Cleansing By Fire because a Celestial Dragon was due to visit. The sight of all the icky poor people and the garbage heap might be too much for the Celestial Dragon’s delicate eyes.

This news freaks out Sabo because he is not evil. “But.. people live there!” 

“YES. THEY WILL BURN!” Stelly crowed with glee.

Sabo had a “screw this,” moment and jumped out the window. Seeking clarification, still unsure that anyone could be that heartless, he roamed High Town. For some reason, everyone was making fire jokes. “OHOHO, IT SURE IS WINDY TODAY. FIRES MIGHT SPREAD!” Unable to take it any longer, Sabo straight up asked an old gent if it was true.

It’s as if High Town had a residents’ meeting and thought, “Screw it, let’s just burn Grey Terminal. Cheaper than hiring a skim, am i rite?”

Of course, Sabo went nuts. He was surrounded by freaks. Utter psychos. His brothers would burn because the poor people of Grey Terminal were inconvenient. But before he got the chance to escape, he was caught. Sweaty Chins kicked him into a cellar and locked the door. What a guy! Watching Sabo beating on that door screaming for Ace and Luffy was sad. 

I would love to see Sweaty Chins have karma hit him like a brick one day, I swear...

Someone Set Him Up The Bomb

Back at Bluejam’s Courier Business, Bluejam finally let Ace and Luffy in on the big secret. The boxes they had been carrying contained oil and explosives which would be used to Blow Grey Terminal to Kingdom Come. But hey, he wasn’t the mastermind behind it, so that was alright, right? He was just getting paid. And speaking of money, did Ace and Luffy happen to have any lying around?

Because what Bluejam care about more than anything? Money. Turns out the mastermind of the fire was the King of Goa. Apparently, he promised Bluejam and his crew titles and status. As soon as Bluejam said this, I thought, “There is no way in hell, mate. You are being played.” Nobles barely help their own. As if they’d help you, one who was born a commoner.

I didn’t have long to wait. Bluejam hammered on the gate to Edge Town, gave the signal to be let in. But they were ignored by the guards inside, just like the desperate residents of Grey Terminal were ignored by the guards when they begged to be given refuge. When they retreated to the ship, they found that burning too. The king had double-crossed them.

The whole fire story was actually pretty brutal because something similar happened in real life that was all over the news where I live. A tower block of apartments where poorer people lived went on fire. Seventy-two people died. Some of the bodies will never be identified because they were living there illegally or were sub-letting while waiting for naturalisation papers. Why did the tower block burst into flames? Cheap, shoddy, flammable cladding. Why was the tower block clad in that material? To approve its appearance for the rich people who lived opposite. It looked grimy and run down. The sight of it might hurt their delicate eyes.

This entire plot just reminded me of that and I’ve got say, if Dragon asked me to join his army right now, I’d probably say yes.

And speaking of Dragon...

We Need Febreeze, Stat.

Desperate to save Ace and Luffy, Sabo escaped through a vent. He reached the city gate, tried to open it and had the crap kicked out of him by a guard. When a mysterious man in a green cloak approached, I thought, “YES! DRAGON IS HERE. HE WILL TAKE SABO AWAY AND LET HIM JOIN THE REVOLUTIONARY ARMY. ANOTHER FINE RECRUIT.”

Wherever there is injustice and class-cleansing, there is Dragon.

Dragon asked Sabo what happened. Sabo spilled his soul and I felt wretched watching him. The self-hatred Sabo has and his powerlessness to effect any change because of the firm grip the defective system has on the OPverse. 

“This town smells worse than Grey Terminal. It smells like rotten people. If I stay here, I’ll never be free. I’m ashamed of being born a noble.”

“I know how you feel. I was born in this country too. But I still don’t have enough power to change a country.”

“You’re really listening to me...” Sabo whispered. (That got to me. For the first time, an adult actually listened to him and acknowledged his feelings on the matter.)

“Yes,” Dragon said. “And I will never forget.”

Breaking News: The Poor Can Avoid Being Poor By Not Being Born Poor!

While Bluejam swore vengeance against the King (optimism!), the king himself had planked his arse on his throne and was complaining the sky was too bright because of the fire. Never has the urge to reach through reality to slap a fictional character been stronger.

“Daddy?” little noble daughter asked. “Why aren’t the people in Grey Terminal humans? Why do they have to burn?”

A great question! A potential ray of light! Might this innocent child stir the king’s conscience?

Did she hell.

Honestly, this scene was too real. People actually talk like this. They genuinely believe it. This may be filler, but damn, it is near-the-knuckle good filler.

Mama Bear To The Rescue

In the meantime, Bluejam had gone off the deep end because he realised the futility of vengeance and hit rock bottom. Out for blood, he cornered Luffy and Ace and insisted they died together... but first, that treasure they had stolen!

About to put a bullet through Luffy, a strange, blue haki-like moment felled every single member of Bluejam’s crew. Only Bluejam himself remained standing. I’m still not sure what happened here and who was responsible for it (Dragon? Was he the one who cut the path through the fire to help the Grey Terminal people escape?)

At any rate, it gave Dadan the opening she needed to storm in and rescue her boys. (I was so happy when she called them that. JUST ADMIT IT, DADAN!) “I won’t stand by and watch someone try to take my boys’ lives... even if I’m not their real parent.”

I was a bit annoyed by Ace standing his ground when Dadan wanted to scarper. He endangered everyone else and Dadan was horribly injured fighting Bluejam (mostly burns from fleeing the fire after). It was explained later that Ace is like Roger, who would never run from a right because he would rather let the ones he loves escape. The noble sacrifice only works if you can guarantee their safety. If you’re wiped out then the enemy turns on your loved ones, how can you protect them them?

It distressed Luffy too, who was carted off and didn’t hear from them for days.

At least that convenient path through the fire was created, eh? And where did that path lead?

A Revolutionary Army ship with Dragon, Ivan-san and BARTHOLOMEW BLOODY KUMA!

LOOK WHO’S IN THE BACKGROUND!

(I really hope this is canon because this is something I have wanted confirmation of for AGES. Please let it be true that Kuma was once part of the Revolutionary Army.)

I loved this entire scene. When Ivan asked Dragon how he knew what was going on in this East Blue Backwater and Dragon answered, “This country is an example of how the world will be in the future. There can be no happiness where the undesirables are thrown away. I will change the world.” For all Dragon’s deadbeat dad status, you can see where Luffy gets his ambition and stubborn determination.

Then Dragon addressed the tired, frightened, shivering crowd of poor, Grey Terminal outcasts and shouted: “Those of you who are willing to fight for freedom, come aboard!”

But there was one person missing. I must admit I looked for Sabo on the boat. I thought Dragon might have taken him along. Maybe Dragon didn’t because Sabo was only a kid and he might have had family. 

I wish he had. :(

Destination? Anywhere But Here

The next morning, the sun came out and the clear up began. Any survivors were to be shot on sight. The guards remarked how few charred bodies they found. Hopefully, most of them were Bluejam’s crew and the rest found their way to Dragon’s ship.

Sabo woke up in an alleyway. I was disappointed because Dragon hadn’t taken him. The disappointment was compounded when he was immediately caught and dragged home to High Town. Sweaty Chins enlisted two of the king’s goons as personal guards and calmly threatened to have Sabo killed unless he educated himself to be a noble.

“Be more like Stelly”, Sweaty Chins said, “who is so dependable and who will be getting new clothes to see the Celestial Dragon.”

Of course, Sabo would not be going. He could not be trusted. Sabo was imprisoned in his room. Everything was greyscale except Sabo. All colour had drained from his life. He had no idea whether Luffy and Ace were alive or dead. Was sure they were alive but realised trying to see them would place them in danger. Living like that would be awful. I felt sorry for Sabo, despite his privileged upbringing. The kid was straight up depressed.

“What is freedom?” he wondered. “Where can I find it?” Then he overheard a convenient conversation between his guards. The Celestial Dragon would visit tomorrow. Only one guard and Sabo would be in the house.

This was his chance. He wrote a note with a huge smile on his face.

The next day, a huge, flag-waving crowd gathered at the port to welcome the Celestial Parasite Dragon. I hate stuff like that, so I was already in rage mode.

My mood was NOT IMPROVED when Saint Jalmack SHOT SABO’S WITH A BLOODY BAZOOKA BECAUSE HE WAS A RUDE COMMONER.

:|

At that point, I was convinced Sabo was dead because his top hat (Sabo’s symbol) was seen drifting to earth). I’m still 70% certain he’s dead. Mainly because he hasn’t been seen since (unless there’s something I’ve missed). Sabo’s death also puts Luffy’s reaction to Saint Charloss in perspective. Luffy punched him because no one punched the guy who killed Sabo.

But... there was no body. That is my number one rule. And there was that moment when Dragon’s ship pulled in at tiny Zoro’s island (TINY ZORO!) with someone who was badly injured and needing Ivan’s treatment. Dragon had also been in the audience watching the ceremony for the Celestial Dragon. I have my fingers crossed but won’t get my hopes up.

Take Care of Luffy

Of course, that wasn’t enough heart-string tugging. This is One Piece. My feelings had to be put through the wringer.

Dadan and Ace finally made it home. That was the single good thing that happened in 503. They saved each others’ lives. Dadan punched Bluejam to death (metal) and ran through fire with Ace. Ace stole medicine, treated her burns and carried her back to the shack.

But Dogra (a bandit) also made it back with news of Sabo. Ace immediately flew off the handle, seeking vengeance. Dadan talked sense into him. This was a Celestial Dragon. They would only have him killed. “Your father’s death changed the world. When you become a man as important as that, you can do whatever you like!”

Oh, Dadan. Where were you at Marineford? Weirdly, her words were prophetic because Ace’s death really will usher in a new pirate era.

Then the letter from Sabo arrived. 

“Ace, Luffy, I hope you guys weren’t hurt in the fire. I’m worried about you but I believe you’re okay. I’m sorry to say it but when you get this letter, I’ll already be out to sea. Things led to things and I decided to set out before you. My destination will be anywhere but here! I’m gonna become stronger and be a pirate! The three of us have to become the freest pirates ever. One day, let’s meet up somewhere. Somewhere on the wide open sea, definitely. By the way, Ace, which of us do you think is the bigger brother? It’s odd but our brotherhood is my treasure. Luffy is still a weak crybaby but he is our little brother so take good care of him.”

At that point, I hadn’t seen the scene when Dragon’s ship pulled into Little Zoro’s island, so that brought a tear to my eye. I was so mad at the waste of Sabo’s life, mad that Ace and Luffy had already lost something so precious to them while they were still so young and mad that Sabo’s worthless parents hadn’t taken action against the slug who murdered their son. I was also mad at Dragon for not taking Sabo (but I still have hope that actually did happen).

After that, Ace swore to take care of Luffy. The boys worked hard to improve themselves. They even asked for help with their manners (that dine and dash thank you was hilarious). Now Ace’s well-mannered persona makes sense. Imaginary Sabo guided Luffy in his training, encouraging him just like he always used to.

Then, when they each turned seventeen, they broke Dadan’s heart by heading out to sea.

Why did they chose seventeen? Because that was Sabo’s deadline. At eighteen, he would become a full-fledged noble, so he intended to escape when before then.

Damn... this series. ;_;

[obsessively-obsessed-fangirl]

When I finally gave in and started watching Dawson’s Creek, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I thought it was just some silly show about 4 friends growing up together. Unfortunately, I was sorely mistaken.

I am often sucked in to these shows by the premises of cheesy teenagers falling in love and finding themselves-it’s my Kryptonite. Dawson’s Creek was promised to be no different, and yet, as I find myself nearing the end of season two, all I can say, is that I will never be finishing this show.

For those who do not know, Dawson’s Creek revolves around a group of 4 friends growing up and discovering what it’s like to be teenagers in the 1990s. Sounds simple right? WRONG! With a star studded cast of Michelle Williams, Katie Holmes, and James Van Der Beek, I was extremely excited by the promise of love triangles and growing up, all set to the soundtrack of the 90’s.

Instead, I got an awkward budding romance between the two main characters, Joey (Holmes) and Dawson (Van Der Beek), shoved down my throat, as Dawson continued to deny his feelings for Joey and instead placate those feelings to the new girl in town, Jen (Williams).

At this point, Dawson’s Creek sounds pretty standard for a team drama, but with characters like Joey, Jen, Pacey, and Dawson, I spent almost the whole first season, skipping scenes and dialogue that I honestly could not stand. Let’s start off with Joey. Joey is a character that in season 1, I could not stand. She continually pick fights with Jen, puts everyone down, acts superior, and is just an overall downer. This girl has this really difficult life and has a hard time accepting herself, which is somehow supposed to make her likeable, but with the constant doubt she instills in Dawson, hatred she has for Jen, and overall superior complex, I found it hard to want to root for her to be with Dawson.

Next, we get into Jen. Jen moves next door to Dawson, from New York, as a way to escape her troubled past. After moving in, she is immediately singled out by Dawson as someone he wants to date. I overall liked her character in season 1. She continually tries to better herself, while still retaining her beliefs, while respecting her stern-god loving grandma. Along with this, she tries to befriend Joey, even though Joey continually puts her down, even in front of Dawson, and is just an overall nice character. That is, until season 2 happens. In the second season, Jen loses her grandfather, and goes down into a shame spiral. This is understandable enough, except, instead of becoming the Veronica to Joey’s Betty, she becomes spiteful, horrid, and overall exactly like a mean girl. She becomes everything I hated about Joey in season one, just multiplied by 100.

The third friend in this quartet, is Pacey. As you may have noticed, I really haven’t mentioned this character too much, and that is because he honestly feels kind of obsolete. He is often shown to be a low self-esteem character, that only believes his one purpose in life is to be a constant screw up. He masks this continued belief through funny one liners and quick quips, usually about Joey. I absolutely hated this guy at the beginning of the season because he gets into an illegal relationship with one of his teachers, and it honestly grossed me out, to the point where I was skipping all scenes involving him. After this blip in the season, he does begin to grow on me a little, but not enough for me to really care about when he is in a scene, vs. when he is not.

Finally, we get to the main star of the show, Dawson Leery. Dawson is a film fanatic, who is trapped between discovering his newfound feelings for his best friend since childhood, and his new next door neighbor. He is at the center of this whole love triangle, and for the majority of the season, he continually denies knowing about Joey’s feelings, while simultaneously avoiding his own. Surprisingly enough, he is the only likeable character. He’s nice, genuine, and tries to be everything to everyone. Yes, as he begins to grow up, he can act like a jerk, when it comes to Joey and Jen, but overall, in season 1, it’s easy to tell that his heart is in the right place, even if his head is a little out of it.

Now that we’ve discussed the lovely characters of Dawson’s Creek, let’s get into why I am so blatantly against this show. At the end of season 1, Jen tries to get Dawson back, but at this point, Dawson has now finally realized his feelings for Joey (THANK GOD), he talks to Joey, they make out, and then become a couple. This plot point bleeds over into season 2, as Joey and Dawson begin a relationship, and Jen realizes she made a mistake and sets out to win Dawson back. At some point in this season, Joey realizes that all she has become is an extension of Dawson. She can no longer see herself outside of him, so she breaks up with him to find herself. (Honestly, I think this is incredibly understandable and overall Joey shows a lot of growth and strength during this season). I don’t have a problem with this season, it’s just everything that comes after this point.

In season 3, Joey begins a relationship with Pacey, and never really gets back together with Dawson. Everyone kind of drifts from each other, and I heard from a lot of people that Dawson begins to suck. The friendship between everyone becomes weird and strained, and they never regain the closeness they had in season 1-2. Joey and Pacey begin and on-off relationship that lasts until the end of the show, and somehow at the end of season 6, Jen dies from a heart condition.

As I said earlier, I will not be watching past season 2, so everything I know, happened because of an accidental spoiler I saw. I want to thank the lords that I didn’t waste $30 to buy the rest of the seasons to watch, because as I write this, my heart is broken.

I wanted so badly to love this show. I loved the drama between the parents of Dawson, I loved Jen’s grandmother, and I loved the beginning relationship between Dawson and Joey. I have heard a lot of people say that they shipped Joey and Pacey, because Pacey was always there to push her to be better. I see that. I saw that early on in season 1, but I saw that as more of a brotherly type of affection. I was glad that they were friends, it made sense...but as a relationship? I kinda feel icky. I see it as icky, because the writers spent so long building up a relationship between Dawson and Joey. Without Dawson as her significant other, Joey hid herself in a prickly shell. She was so afraid to be herself and show Dawson how she felt, that she became mean and rude to everyone she met. With Dawson, she was still sassy, but somehow softer, funnier, and an overall really likeable character. Finally, without Joey as his significant other, Dawson ended up becoming a jerk. He lost so much of that idealism and joy that he had at the beginning of the show. I honestly think that from what I’ve seen, heard, and felt, that the writers really missed the mark between Joey, Pacey, and Dawson. Since I haven’t seen the rest of the show, I can’t say for sure if I’d feel the same way I do now, maybe I would end up liking Pacey better with Joey, but I won’t ever know, because from where I’m sitting, all I can say is that I feel disappointed.