#their existence is just important for the story

[transgenderer]

its not important but it drives me crazy that like. "the jacaranda years" does not exist. no such book exists. yiwei chai is real, she has a short story online (its good). and one poem (i dont get it...). anyway, i guess "the jacaranda years" could just be the name of this...microprose? or more likely, it's a work in progress, and she never finished it. but it's odd, right? its very hard to find details about yiwei chai online aside from this quote, which is very popular, has been reposted tons of places. apparently she studied astronomy at johns hopkins, or used to. good for her

—Yiwei Chai, The Jacaranda Years

[ryusjwks]

Sometimes, I think of such sorrowful scenarios involving Caleb, MC, and non!MC that it truly aches inside. Non!MC holds a very special place in my heart — her finding a good ending, being happy, being seen and valued the way she deserves has always been incredibly important to me. With other love interests, seeing that happen brings a deep sense of satisfaction. But when it comes to Caleb… everything changes. It feels like non!MC could never have a truly happy life with him, as if it just isn’t written in her fate.

Caleb is different from the other characters. In the original timeline, he grows up with MC — they share their childhood, their pain, their fight for survival. His world, without him even realizing, begins to shape around her. There are promises he’s made — to never be with anyone else, to always protect her. He’s not obsessive, maybe, but he has a deeply ingrained sense of possession and protection. And over time, that becomes a habit. And that habit hardens into something like destiny.

Sometimes I picture this one scene in my head: MC, Caleb, and non!MC are children, used as test subjects in a lab. Then one day, Josephine appears and saves them. Everything changes. Time moves forward. Their lives settle into something resembling normalcy — maybe — but Caleb doesn’t change. He never leaves MC’s side. He’s like a shield, a shadow, always there for her. But to non!MC… he’s wary. There’s always a distance between them. As emotionally closed off as he is to Josephine, he remains to her as well.

No matter how much non!MC tries, no matter how much she suffers, she never sees the same softness in Caleb’s eyes. Never the same smile. Because his love for MC isn’t just habit — she is his center. Like when they were kids and he worked part-time so MC could have more toys. Like when he always played the knight who saved her in every make-believe game. Like how every ounce of tenderness he has is reserved only for MC.

Non!MC looks at Caleb the way Caleb looks at MC.

With the same patience, the same depth.

Every time he turns his head, her eyes never leave him, always holding a little more longing.

Not for a smile, maybe — but for a scrap of attention, a drop of affection.

And she never gets it.

Because Caleb is always turned toward someone else.

Non!MC loves him even when she’s not supposed to.

She understands him without even trying.

She’s learned to be content with just being near him.

Because while Caleb is the center of her world,

She is just a shadow living in the outskirts of his.

And perhaps the most painful thing of all is this:

Even though her love is never reflected,

Even though he doesn’t look at her the same way,

Still, she looks at him

Just like he looks at MC.

Quietly. Patiently. Desperately.

Non!MC sees all of this.

And sometimes the thing that hurts most isn’t being unloved — it’s being unconsidered.

It’s not even being compared, because in Caleb’s eyes, there’s no need for a comparison.

And that’s why writing a happy ending for non!MC in a story where Caleb exists becomes so difficult.

Because sometimes, healing begins with accepting the truth — no matter how bitter.

And some people are simply written to be side characters in someone else’s story.

And still… maybe one day.

(I need a fic like that please please please)

[23xfgg]

YANDERE! BATFAM x DRUG USER/SOBER! READER

(Ch. 1)

(Ch. 2)

Ch. 3 <-

An // Sup my little omegas 😼 yes. You (🫵) are my little omegas *growls*. Your alpha is here to give you chapter 3 of this *gestures to the tumbler post* story make sure you say thank you alpha in the comments 😼😼😼🐺🐺🐺

the tag list is also closed!!!! (That’s a lie)

ALSO SORRY IF I DONT RESPOND TO COMMENTS YOUR APLHA OVERTHINKS THEIR RESPONSE TO THE POINT THEY DO NOT RESPOND AT ALL THINKING IT SOUNDS FAKE BUT I WILL LIKE TO SAY THANK YOU FOR ALL THE KIND WORDS I LUV YOU GUYS I WILL COVER YOU WILTH MY ALPHA SCENT FRRRR🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

With the Bat family 😱

They are constantly busy with their lives. Whether it’s them ensuring that their night lives as Gothams and Blüdhaven’s vigilantes aren’t exposed to the world or their regular civilian lives, keeping up appearances. But still with all that they are able to make time for the people in their lives. They just don’t want to make time for you.

Over these past few months they noticed small changes with your personality and appearance. Your makeup is darker, you always have rings on and your preferred shoes have a platform to them.

Your personality, once chasing after their affection and attention you are now just constantly locked in your room and if you are in a common area like the living room and they enter you make quick work of leaving and avoiding any type of communication/ commotion that cold of happened.

The first one of the brothers that noticed your change was Damian. He noticed the way you no longer lash out to the degrading comments he makes about you or your mom. Your eyes look dull during his ‘Damian insulting your very existence’ time, like you are thinking of other things than focusing on the words spewing out of his mouth. Which you do, you are mentally calculating how much of your personal stash you have left before you run out and probably have to buy more or go raid one of your stashes around Gotham. Depending on how much cash you have left. You couldn’t care less about what he is saying and just want to leave.

It took him by surprise (which he didn't show) when you just walked past him like he wasn't there and just walked out of the manor. He wonder at where heading off to but he didn't ponder long. There is an important mission he needs to focus on currently and that takes importance over whatever you are going to do.

Alfred was the first one officially to notice the change with you. He was with you often when you were younger. He treated you like you were his daughter that he cared for (not the one he abandoned for the Wayne family). So it hurts him when he saw you becoming more closed off and secretive. You even started lying to him about your activities. Whenever you were asked where you were leaving to you give him short answers like “Out.” or you just completely lie to him and say you are going to the movies. It hurts him when you lie but he isn’t going to push for the truth but rather leave his door open so you can tell him out your own free will.

He decided not to alert the change in your behaviour to the rest of the family because he knew that they would dismiss it as they don’t see an actual problem even though there is a problem arising.

Penis (Dick) was next to see a change but it was dismissed as soon as he noticed. You walked out of your room the same time he was talking to Tim about visiting some fast food chain that opened up recently. He saw you and had a brief memory of you asking if the he can hang out with you sometime. His excuse at the time was obviously “Sorry little birdie but next time for sure.” But next time never came. With the sudden recollection of that request from years ago he spewed another apology and gave an empty promise about hanging out together. You just rolled your eyes and returned back into your room thinking that the vodka you have in your wardrobe sounds much better than heading to the kitchen for actual hydration.

He brushed off your lack of response as you just accepting the ‘change of plans’ and finding something else to do (there was no plans to begin with but he didn’t know that nor remembered).

When Duke joined the manor, you were already extremely closed off and kept to your self so he just took it as normal. He only knew that this wasn’t how you acted before through Alfred reminiscing on how he use to bake cupcakes with you when you were younger.

He was curious about what caused the whole personality switch but knew you wouldn’t talk about it so he left it at that. Mostly because he doesn’t exactly know how you will react to him suddenly bombarding you with questions.

You only had less than a handful of interactions with Cass. Mostly because you were weirded out by the fact she can read people’s body language so well and you didn’t want anyone to know about your extra activities. So you may have came off a little cold but speed walking out of a room every time they are just about to enter and never realign making eye contact with them. Your reaction towards her probs made you look guilty but you didn’t care you just focused on avoiding them and keeping yourself to…yourself.

It’s the same with Steph. You constantly try to avoid her coming off as cold and distance but you don’t really care. You don’t even clearly remember when she came into the manor. You just woke up one day still high and saw a purple blob with a blonde top and just continued with your raid on the snack cupboard in the kitchen making sure to not take any snacks that belong to the other residents. And that was probably the last time you were willingly in a room with one of them albeit it was because of your hunger.

Bruce, Barbra, Tim and Jason didn’t really care. They barely notice the change with you and when the did they only dismissed it as a rebellious teenager phase that you will probably grow out of (AN// you will probably die before that happens. I am totally not foreshadowing….or am I wehheheeh) with due time. Never really focusing on your lack of presence in the room or in the over all manor. They all had better stuff to do. Bruce has to deal with being Batman, protecting Gotham, Brucie Wayne and his family. Barbra has her work as oracle cut out for her. Tim is a CEO at like seventeen. Having to manage that along with being Red Robin, and the hero teams he is apart of and being basically a computer whizz why bother even considering that he may notice you. And lets face it Jason has his own stuff with his unsolved anger with Bruce, being a crime lord/anti hero known as red hood, if he was going to actually notice you he wouldn’t care either way.

They will all see the changes but they never care…

An // RAHHHHH you can tell where I started to give up….tsk tsk

I do want to clarify that some members like Duke and Cass didn’t really join until after your personality switch so they have little idea to what you were like before hand while others just don’t care. Steph probably thinks that you are a raging bitch because you practically ignored her when she first met you. You probably didn’t even register her voice was aimed towards you because you were just trying to figure out when did the grimace get a blonde ponytail.. sorry Steph I love purple :p

The next chapter will come after a hiatus due to university work so I will probably not start anything until I am done with this semester and I’m finally on holiday

Tag list is in fact not closed I’m a liar but I will in fact close it when the next chapter drops y’all

So if you want to join these special omegas…just comment

taglist sorry to anyone who’s tag did not work and if I forgot you pls tell me in the comments: @welpthisisboring @vanessa-boo @shycreatorreview @jsprien213 @1abi @cxcilla @moon0goddess @sadeem575 @galaxypurplerose @zeros-rot @visualchu @lostsomewhereinthegarden @waterberryss @burningkittenprince @91-kya @scoutyyy @haileybugulug

Bye bye my little omegas…your alpha is going to miss use and your pheromones *AWOOO*🐺🐺🐺👋👋👋

[dingodad]

ok it's the next day so i am going to summarise my thoughts on that update which i felt at the time were really obvious but which i might not have effectively articulated in my posts LOL

one - yes Jane and Jake's appearance on the ship is "a retcon". this is why Calliope and Karkat agree that retcons "are a little amateurish" and are then shaken from their seats by some strange cosmic phenomenon which changes things about reality. this is something called irony. YE'D BEST START BELIEVIN' IN IT.

we can tell this is what's going on - and that Vriska is in some way involved - because Jane and Jake aren't the only things that are now different about the story: the planet Deltritus, which was previously blue, suddenly turns pink in a flash of Hell Tier powers. the surface of Deltritus was already pink, so the orbital image has been retroactively changed to a colour that makes more sense. again, Roach clearly winks at this in the Monthly Check-In, saying that they are "taking the story and characters in a slightly different direction, while still hitting some of the key points laid out for us." the aim here was to change things about the previous version of the story that didn't work without it coming across like the cheap rewrites Karkat refers to (and which a lot of fans had been asking for, for some reason).

the problems people have this fact are:

1a - they still think a "retcon" makes the previous version of the story pointless and irrelevant. Homestuck already did a whole arc about why this isn't true so if you still genuinely feel this way in your heart idk. page 666 even did a whole bit about the importance of another Jane out there in the multiverse being able to live a better life. you are just gonna have to grin and bear it sorry bro

1b - they can only think of a "retcon" as the thing John does. the concept of retroactive continuity and the word "retcon" existed long before Caliborn's juju and they will continue to exist forever after, and I think this addendum also makes it pretty clear that no, this is a different new thing. John's letters disappearing and Deltritus changing colour are clearly demonstrations of a new power, so we should be smart and assume Jane and Jake reappearing is a new thing as well. and obviously it has to be, because

two - no, Jane and Jake being "retconned" back into the story does not mean the Catnapped arc has just been abandoned. I should think the intention for Catnapped to stay canon was made pretty clear by first Jasprose's appearance on page 666 but then also her appearance literally IN this addendum... this is another reason these new "retcons" are clearly a new thing and not just John's existing ability to alter past story events. like Vriska, Jane and Jake have been through their therapy quest, and are now apparently living new lives having incorporated the lessons they learnt during that therapy quest. remember Vriska's purgatory literally involved dying and being reborn to live her life all over again every time she failed to make progress; it's really not difficult to imagine that, once they had learned their lessons, Jane and Jake were offered the option to do basically the same thing. obviously this isn't EXACTLY the same as what happened to Vriska, and we're still yet to see just how much of their therapy Jane and Jake actually remember... but like come on guys. this is new territory. be patient and things will be revealed to you LOL

[ruffboijuliaburnsides]

"Rumination" is what sheep and cows and other ruminants are doing when they "chew cud". It's when they eat the grass, it goes into one stomach to digest a bit, then they regurgitate it, chew it again, and send it to a second stomach/second partition of their stomach. It may happen more idk I"m not a ruminant expert, but that's the basic process.

You need to sit with your emotions like you need to chew your food. You need to chew before you swallow, because otherwise you could choke or get sick, or get some kind of blockage. But you are not a ruminant. It is unhelpful - nay, actively harmful to your body - for you to regurgitate, rechew, and swallow again. Not only is it gross, but since your body isn't meant to do that, your stomach acid erodes your esophagus, your teeth, is harmful in all sorts of ways.

Just so, you need to sit with your emotions and process them, but it is unhelpful - nay, actively harmful to your psyche - for you to ruminate on them. Pulling them back up and going over them over and over and developing stories that don't exist because you keep coming back to it so it MUST be important and your brain goblins will fill in the blanks, meanwhile you're just eroding away at things like healthy responses and self-confidence and self-worth.

It's a skill, obviously. It takes practice. But once you learn how to stop emotionally chewing your cud, you'll be a much more contented and healthy person.

for like a decade I kept getting the advice of "don't ruminate" but also "sit with your emotions" and I was like What The Fuck Does That Even Mean. until someone finally explained it in a way that makes sense:

so there's the emotional part of your brain ("I'm embarrased") and then there's the storytelling part ("all my friends hate me and I'm a piece of shit"). when people say "don't ruminate" what they mean is don't feed the storytelling part

you tend to the emotion ("I'm feeling x. why am I feeling that? how do I move forward given that information? what's something nice I can do for myself right now to cope with this?") but you treat the storytelling part like a little goblin that's trying to be as unhelpful to this whole process as possible. this doesn't shut the storytelling goblin up completely, but it keeps it from causing so much chaos and over time it stops talking so damn much

it's basically like if you were trying to comfort a friend. you'd validate their emotions, but you wouldn't sit there and let them call themself a piece of shit. do that for yourself

sharing this in case someone else is also like Why Didn't Someone Just Say That

[guiltyasdave]

almost killed your light

chapter 6 • series masterlist

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~3.7k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (joel is 56, reader is 36), able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, nightmares, death of characters important to reader, grief, the angst is once again angsting, suicide (not reader!), canon-typical violence, hunting & a dead deer, it's finally backstory time!!!!

a/n: i can't tell you how thrilled i am to be posting this! it's easily the saddest chapter of the series, and also the first part of the story that i came up with, so this is a pretty big moment for me <3 thank you for all the lovely comments, for being so patient and a biiiig smooch to @sizzlingcloudmentality, thank you for looking this over!

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

“Do you think—” Joel clears his throat, searching your face. “Do you think it might help to talk about them? To help you to keep the memory?” 

You don’t want to talk about them, if you’re being honest. As long as you don’t talk, don’t speak any of it into existence, you might still be able to pretend that the last twenty years were nothing more than a bad dream. That you’ll just need to finally wake up, and you’ll be sixteen again, and the world will be back to normal. 

But you’re still shivering, still feeling the threat of forgetting, of nothingness breathing down your neck. So you nod, slowly, and with the quiet safety of Joel’s slow breaths in your ears and the warmth of his body beside you, you start laying your heart out for him. 

How they called you out of class, something about a family emergency, that they had your father on the phone. His frantic voice in your ear, crackling through the receiver, countless miles away on a work trip, accompanied by your mother. Too far to reach, too far to come and save you. 

Take your brothers and go home. Immediately. No stops along the way, no matter what. Go to the basement and stay there, do you hear me? Promise me that you’ll keep them safe. 

It hadn’t been the first time that he urged you home from school, made you hide from an invisible threat. It was part of your life, just like the never-ending survival lessons and the fully inhabitable basement under your house was part of it. 

But something had felt off this time. Maybe because you knew that he wouldn’t be waiting for you at home, that you were on your own. Maybe you just had a bad feeling. Promise me that you’ll keep them safe. 

You weren’t sure what he had said on the phone before you had come on, which excuse he had given, but you got both Felix and Tim out of class without issue and packed them into your car. Of course they wanted to stop along the way, only six and eleven years old, giddy to be out of school early. 

You denied demands to get McDonalds, to go to the arcade, even to spend the day roaming the woods around your house. With your father’s words still echoing through your head, you parked in front of the house, herded them straight down to the basement, and put the radio on. And then you waited. 

It took until the late evening, all three of you getting antsy, itching to get back upstairs. What bad could possibly happen, really? Until the warnings started. Until early morning when they turned into silence. 

Eventually, different voices returned. Talking about quarantine zones, about safety. About an organization called FEDRA. Don’t trust anyone, least of all the government. A principle far too ingrained in your upbringing to betray it now. So you stayed. In the safety of the familiar homey scent of wood-panelled walls and floors, the always slightly stale air, the electric yellow glow that never made up for the lack of actual daylight. 

But you managed to get an insight into what was actually going on. An infection, spreading too fast to contain. Changing people, turning them into monsters. It sounded like one of those movies that your first boyfriend used to like. Too strange to picture, until the first time you caught movement on the security camera footage. A man stumbling out of the woods, his movements all wrong, unnatural. Weird shapes growing out of his body, out of his head. Fungus, the voices on the radio had said. 

Sometimes, when you struggled to fall asleep at night, you wondered where that boyfriend was now. If he was still alive, if any of your friends were. If anyone was. 

As time went on, though you never said it out loud, the hope that your parents had made it, that they were coming back to you, started to grow smaller. You took on the duties of caretaking and leadership as best as you could. 

Made food, to the best of your abilities. Tried to teach them schoolwork, at least a little. Answered questions, sang lullabies, held them when they cried. Just a little while longer, you used to tell both them and yourself. Because things would go back to normal eventually, right? Keep them safe. 

Weeks turned into months, Thanksgiving and Christmas passed you by, and you were still down there. Watching as the world outside turned white with snow, then watching as it melted, as nature slowly crept closer towards the house, as sunshine started to filter through the trees again. The days got longer, and the terror settled into something deeper, more numb, but at the back of your minds like a steady pulse. 

The first time you decided to go out, you were petrified with fear. The world outside the back door seemed endless, far too loud, far too bright, far too open. The birds sounded deafening in your ears, looking up at the sky burned in your eyes. 

Clenching your teeth, the packets of seeds crinkling between your fingers, you took the first hesitant step towards the overgrown patch of earth where your parents used to grow vegetables. 

Your hands were shaking the entire time, your breath coming in short huffs that never quite seemed to reach your lungs. Your eyes kept skimming the treeline, your legs ready to bolt at the smallest of movements. Promise me that you’ll keep them safe. The wind felt strange on your skin, the damp earth was clinging to your skin uncomfortably. But you had to do this right, had to provide, had to give them something more than just pure survival. 

Hands grabbed at you as soon as you gave the signal and the heavy door swung open. Held you tight, relief swimming in their eyes, mirroring yours. What did it look like, what did it feel like? Did it smell different? Did you see a monster? You didn’t, but now you had something to count down to, something tangible. A few weeks, and you would have something fresh to eat, something that didn’t come out of a can. Something that tasted like before.

You retrieved your mother’s notebook from the kitchen, tried to replicate the dishes that you remembered. You read bedtime stories, listened to long winded monologues over space travel and dinosaurs, went through the same comics over and over and tried to think of new stories when the existing ones became boring. You brought Tim’s guitar down from his old room and listened to him pluck the strings in the evenings. Sometimes, you sang together. It wasn’t like before, but it wasn’t terrible. A life you had been prepared for, in a weird way. 

For two years, you were the only one who ventured outside. Still with a rigid spine, still with your fingers twitching towards the shotgun you always carried with you, still hyper focused on your surroundings. But for two years, nothing bad happened. Your hands got more used to the movements, handling fruits and vegetables with practised care. You sometimes wondered what your father would say if he saw you now. If he would be proud of you. You didn’t want him to be proud. You wanted him to come back. 

You never saw another monster, not when you were outside and not on the cameras either. Nor did you ever see any humans. The radio stayed silent. 

The next spring, Tim wouldn’t stop begging to come outside with you. He had just turned fourteen, and was not a child anymore, I can take care of myself! At nineteen yourself, you had never wished more to feel like a child again. 

After endless fights, in which he called you overprotective, afraid of your own shadow, overdramatic and, particularly hurtful, not his mother, you finally agreed. You also promised to teach him how to shoot, which your father had just been getting started on when everything changed. 

Once it was time to actually step foot outside, he grabbed your hand tightly, blank fear written in his wide eyes. 

“Hey,” you murmured, squeezing his fingers reassuringly and crouching down to his height. “I’m here. It’s gonna be okay.” Please let everything be okay. Please don’t let today be the day when something happens. 

He nodded, squared his jaw, took a deep breath and turned back towards the door. He looked so much older in that moment, so much like your father, that your own breath faltered for a second. 

To his credit, Tim stayed close by your side the entire time, just like you had made him promise over and over. Your whole body was on high alert, eyes flitting over the garden that nature kept claiming back more and more each time you came outside, over the darkness of the treeline. 

Once the patch had been taken care of, your spread targets over the long grass, handing Tim the bow and arrows that you had practised with as well. He had wanted a gun, but you couldn’t bear the risk of shots alerting anyone to your existence. 

Tim was good with the weapon, once his nerves had calmed down a little. When the sky slowly turned orange and you ushered him inside again, he beamed up at you. “I can help you now,” he said. “I can protect us.”

Felix, only nine years old at the time, had been whining non stop about being left alone, but you couldn’t bear the thought of bringing him upstairs, out of the safety of the basement. Promise me that you’ll keep them safe. 

It took two more years until the three of you left the basement together. You had a terrible feeling about it, the impending dread breathing down your neck as soon as you opened the door. But Felix needed shooting practice too, Tim argued, and you knew he was right. Neither of you said it out loud, but the question of what if lingered in the air around you. What if something happened to you? What if the two of them ended up alone? They had to be prepared for that. Promise me that you’ll keep them safe. 

You handled most of the gardening, because you liked the way you could move your hands to do something, to provide something that wouldn’t exist otherwise. But you told them everything you knew, everything your parents taught you. In the evenings, you scribbled everything you could think of into a notebook, filling pages upon pages with knowledge that you hoped you would always be able to give in person, but couldn’t risk the opportunity that it would be lost if you couldn’t. 

It was Tim who first brought up the idea of hunting. In a way, it made sense. You had seen far more wildlife on the camera footage over the years than monsters. Twice, you had even seen groups of humans, but they were mostly male and carrying heavy weapons, and you never felt safe to interact with them. Those sightings had been few and far in between though, while you saw deer almost every week. 

Still, it would mean venturing out further than ever before. Further away from safety than you’d been in five years. But it would add another component to your meals, and better nutrition, you supposed. There were enough supplements stored in the basement to last you your whole lives and then some, but the prospect of providing them with something new, something fresh? It was tempting. 

Gritting your teeth, you eventually agreed. Tim had become a great shooter, much better with the bow than you had ever been. His bashful grin when you told him that made your heart sting. You always tried to be everything they needed, but in moments like these you wished your father had been there to praise him instead of you for once.

You had really wanted to at least leave Felix behind, but he wouldn’t have it, obviously terrified of the two of you not coming back. So, after going through every possible eventuality a thousand times, the three of you put on dark clothes, shouldered your weapons, and set out into the woods. Your heart was racing, all your senses on the highest alert, your fingers wrapped tightly around the shotgun in your grip. Promise me that you’ll keep them safe.

It was a beautiful morning. Spring was slowly merging into summer, the air was still crisp and so different from the air in the basement that it almost felt unreal. Birdsong was floating through the trees as the three of you very slowly made your way through the semi darkness of the forest surrounding your house. Early daylight was filtering through the leaves and mist was rising from the soft mossy floor. 

You were quiet, no words exchanged between you, just like you had made them promise over and over. It felt like barely any time had passed when Tim’s hand shot out, stopping both you and Felix in your tracks. He pointed up ahead, where your squinting eyes made out the lithe, brown silhouette of a deer in the dim light. 

He exchanged a nod with you, then drew an arrow. You watched him take aim, heard the silent woosh, saw it hitting its target. The animal went down with a low thud. For a moment, none of you moved. Tim blinked slowly, like he couldn’t believe his own eyes. A breathless laugh escaped you, until you caught yourself, your eyes darting around nervously. But nothing moved, the forest kept on peacefully existing around you. 

Dragging the deer back to the house was challenging, as was the dressing, but you managed. It had been one of the most-hated lessons that your father gave you, but now, once again, you felt grateful. As long as you didn’t think about why he wasn’t there to do it. 

But that night, when you made a stew out of fresh vegetables and meat, you actually felt a little proud of yourself. If nothing else, at least you were keeping your promise. 

It wasn’t until a few months later that you encountered one of the monsters. It lunged at you out of nowhere, forcing all air from your lungs as you both collided on the forest floor. A scream tore from your throat, your hands grasping desperately to bring the shotgun into position while simultaneously holding the snapping, rotting teeth away from your face. 

“Tim!” you cried out, pressing yourself against the ground, hoping to give him a clear shot. But there wasn’t the familiar whooshing of an arrow flying through the air. Two shots rang out in quick succession and the creature on top of you stilled. 

Gasping for breath, you pushed it off of you, trying to make sense of the scene in front of you. Tim was frozen, his hand extended towards the quiver on his back, the bow still at his side. Your eyes found Felix. Sweet, eleven year old Felix, who read comics to fall asleep and asked to sleep in your bed after a nightmare every other week. Felix, with the gun you had given him for emergencies only shaking in his grip. His whole frame was trembling, tears quietly streaming down his face. 

With your own legs unsteady, you got onto your feet, crossing the short distance and pressing him tightly against you. 

“You’re okay,” you whispered into his hair, enveloping him in your arms. “You’re okay, we’re okay. Let’s go home.”

You didn’t want to go hunting again after that. You had managed without it before, and you would manage again. Promise me that you’ll keep them safe.

But, after the initial shock had worn off, your brothers did want to go into the forest again. They practiced shooting even more often, unwilling to accept defeat, to bow down to this threat that effectively was out of your control. Afraid that they would sneak out if you said no, you eventually caved and the three of you made your way into the forest again. 

You were on the verge of panic the entire time, but miraculously, everything stayed calm. No sudden surprises, no attacks, only the quiet trees and you, and the promise of a good dinner that evening.

Life was good, in some ways. Tim turned eighteen and you got up at the crack of dawn to prepare a cake for him. He taught Felix how to play guitar. On some days, you were brave enough to spend whole days in the actual house, only retreating to the basement to sleep. You still ran into monsters sometimes, and while that never got less scary, you built more of a routine with every time it happened. 

Eight years had passed since your father called you and sent you home from school. Promise me that you’ll keep them safe. 

It was early October, and you had caught a cold. Nothing you couldn’t just sleep off, just a persistent headache and a sore throat really, but your brothers were determined to help. Determined to get ingredients for soup, something your mom used to make when one of you was sick. 

Your protests that they didn’t have to, that you didn’t want them outside on their own, fell on deaf ears. Eventually, you gave up. They weren’t kids anymore, and you didn’t doubt that they could hold their ground. Just— you had a bad feeling. And you had promised. 

After the door on top of the staircase fell shut, you drifted off into a feverish sleep, haunted by dreams that didn’t make sense. You were shaken awake by Tim, his eyes red from crying, his face more distraught than you had ever seen it. He stumbled over his words, choking on apologies, on explanations that you couldn’t make sense of. Until he led you up to the living room you never used, a room from before. Until you saw Felix sitting on the couch, all gangly limbs and too long hair that you had been planning on cutting. Until you saw his forearm. The twitching. The bite mark, already red and swollen with infection. 

The unthinkable had happened. One moment of surprise, one movement that happened too fast, was all it took. 

You had made a pact about this, years ago. That you wouldn’t let each other turn, wouldn’t let one of you become a monster. 

The three of you sat there for hours, holding each other, watching as the sky turned orange until darkness fell. None of you said much. There wasn’t anything to say. The twitching got worse. 

Finally, his throat hoarse, Felix said, “I— I think it’s time. You should—” His voice faltered, and you nodded quietly, squeezing his hand. 

The shot didn’t sound real. The trigger didn’t feel real under your finger. The red blood, soaking through his t-shirt. His limp body hitting the ground. It wasn’t real, because it couldn’t be. 

Tim and you dug through the night, and as the sun rose on a new day, which didn’t make any sense at all, because how were there any days left to live, you were standing over the fresh earth of a grave. The grave of your little brother who never made it past the age of fourteen.

Promise me that you’ll keep them safe. Promise me that you’ll keep them safe. Promise me that you’ll keep them safe.

You didn’t eat. Didn’t sleep. Closed the door to Felix’ room, and promised yourself that you’d never open it again. Time didn’t seem to pass, though according to the clock on the wall, it had to. 

Tim didn’t leave his room for two days. You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to comfort him, when all you wanted to do was scream. Why he had to go hunting, why he didn’t protect his little brother. You wanted to scream at yourself, too. Why you were stupid enough to let them go. 

Eventually, you fell asleep right where you were sitting. When you startled awake, the door to Tim’s room was open, but the basement was empty. A folded piece of paper with your name on it waited on the table in front of you. 

You knew before you even opened the letter. One of the guns was missing. Tim never used a gun to shoot anything.

His body was right beside his brother’s grave. Blood had tainted the earth around him. Choking on a sob, you fell to your knees beside him. Pried the gun from his limp fingers. 

When you were done, two graves lined the edge of the garden. You didn’t look back. Your feet carried you down the steps. You washed the blood of your hands, your sight so blurry through your tears that you barely saw what you were doing. Then, you closed Tim’s door, too. 

Twelve years passed, until you walked up those stairs again.

Joel’s arm wraps around you hesitantly, like any sudden movements might scare you off. You sink into him, unaware of how badly you needed to be held like this. 

“I promised,” you whisper into the warmth of his shoulder. “I promised, and now they’re both gone.”

“Wasn’t your fault.” His voice is low. You feel the movement of your hair where his breath fans out on top of your head.

You shrug. On better days, you have been telling yourself that, too. Instead of an answer, you focus on his breathing. Letting it slow yours down, letting it calm your nerves. 

Finally, he very quietly says, “I had a daughter. Sarah.” His breath hitches on her name. You look at him, the question that you can’t ask written in your eyes. “Outbreak day. She was— she was fourteen, too.” 

Your own pain is reflected in his eyes. Clear as day, now that you know. Like it was there the entire time. You nod silently, reaching for his hand. Tightening your hold gently, and he squeezes back. 

Leaning your head against his shoulder again, you close your eyes.

thank you for reading! nothing makes my day the way comments and reblogs do, so please consider leaving one <3

[theotherwesley]

I'm going to posit something that may sound a little weird at first: but I think the same kind of dissatisfaction that leads people into questionable or dangerous reactionary movements, is the same dissatisfaction that leads people to start witch hunts and dog piling on social media, is the same dissatisfaction that gets people into new age, vibes-based "health" and "cleansing your toxins" lifestyles, is the same dissatisfaction that leads people into an Marie Antoinette-style obsession with cottagecore and the nostalgia for an imaginary bucolic lifestyle that never really existed. It's estrangement from results, particularly direct results.

This is essentially just the Theory of Alienation, but the connective tissue between cult-of-action-to-cottagecore hit me in a particular way that made me want to dig into the specifics in terms of internet phenomena.

Just about every aspect of the computer-bound/computer-dependent lifestyle is geared towards separating people from process from product. We don't see the results, we don't see the mechanisms, we don't see the other people involved. So the prospect of working outdoors to plant something nourishing and be able to see and enjoy the results is intoxicating (especially if you don't rely on doing it for a living). So is the idea that you can just pick up a weapon and make something happen. So is the idea that you can punish people for real or much more often perceived crimes directly without waiting on due process. So is the idea that you don't have to throw yourself on the mercy of a doctor who trivializes and ignores your symptoms to the tune of hundreds or thousands of dollars. Hell, the obsession with generative AI being pedaled as a "solution" to the apparent "gatekeeping" of "talent" (or time/labor/compensation) is stemming from the same thing. There are plenty of examples but the roots connect. Returning to the theory of alienation for a second-- is not an accident that we have been separated from each other and from our labor, it is unimaginably profitable for the ones selling us things and keeping us beholden to them for scraps and pennies our entire lives. It is killing us. It has been killing us. Some people exponentially more than others. You know this, you're living in it.

I don't have a plan for the Revolution or whatever but I am pretty convinced that it is critically, vitally important that we Make Real Things, with our hands and brains and with other people-- real art, food, friends, crafts, tools, stories, clothes, fun; help with something, do things for people, grow something, fix something, learn something. Get a result you can see that's YOURS and GOOD and not a product of consumerism or fear. --Are there obstacles to all these things? Oh baby, are there ever! That's the point! That's the problem!! <-THE PROBLEM. This isn't a judgement!! We are all fucking struggling!!!

Making real things is essential not in a woo-woo way but in a practice so you can improve way. So many people are convinced they can't make things simply because they haven't made things before. Start somewhere, anywhere, and you can build the confidence to in yourself that you can do more. It will help you adapt and strengthen yourself in a world that is trying very hard to keep you powerless and isolated. Again -> The point. People end up seeking things that make them FEEL like they've made an instant change in the world, or feel like they're escaping the rat race, or anything that feels like regaining power over their lives.

But if you don't also control where that feeling comes from, you are open to being manipulated by all manner of opportunistic and predatory forces. If you create something tangible/observable within your own means (and this does NOT preclude collaboration), you made something of value and that value remains with you, to do with as you wish.

That's empowerment. It can be practiced and nurtured, in fact it MUST be.

[secretgardensinmymindd13]

“you don’t respect buck and eddie’s sexuality if you insist on buddie getting together (like making buck’s bisexuality all about buddie, or ignoring that eddie is ‘straight’ (i can’t not put it in quotation marks))” takes are so fucking stupid, because the writers are literally on board with buddie

they get it, and they’ve been subtly - and not so subtly - hinting at it since the season 7 premiere

the minute they realized eddie was turning out to be gay, narratively speaking, they knew the only right person for him romantically - again, narratively speaking - is buck

and they’ve been planning bi-buck way before they noticed gay-eddie, but when they introduced buck’s bi-awakening, they made sure to show that his new relationship with a man doesn’t click the way it clicks with eddie. they’re cute together, sure, they have chemistry, yes, but it’s constantly highlighted in the show that the only right person for buck is eddie - because he’s just always fucking there, he gets buck like no one else does, their connection is unmatched and this new love interest can’t compare because they’re not meant to be

because the two characters who are meant to be already met each other

i totally respect buck’s bisexuality and how important it is for representation, but i also respect buck as a whole character - and if you respect him that way too, you also understand that buck’s the one is eddie. because it’s been shown across all seasons that eddie is the one person in buck’s life who matches his level of love and his personality

like, it all always comes down to people never actually seeing a proper queer slow burn before because it’s never really existed - previous queer relationships on screen were either fast-developing, pre-established, or never got a real resolution

so people keep dismissing buddie’s connection as “just friendship”, even though the signs of it being a love story have always been there - with both buck and eddie’s sexualities, and with how they relate to each other

the writers saw it because they’re not stupid. and the way they went about making these characters slowly understand themselves and realize their feelings for each other tells me they’re actually geniuses. there was an insane amount of subtext in s7, and basically plain text in s8

and if you can’t see it, then you’re stupid - sorry not sorry - ‘cause i genuinely can’t comprehend how bt-endgame fans or eddie-straight-truthers can’t see what’s happening right in front of them

we finally got a queer friends-to-lovers story for once, stop whining

every time someone says, “why do people always need to ship characters that are cLeArLy just friends?” i’m like:

‘CAUSE WE NEVER FUCKING HAD THIS TROPE WITH SAME-SEX CHARACTERS. it’s always disregarded, even when it makes perfect sense for the story - because of heteronormativity, homophobia, or a general lack of understanding of queer sexualities and experiences

so, yes, i root for them. because it’s a smart thing to do. because i can read between the lines. because it’s written in the story, and the story doesn’t make any sense otherwise. because it’s there in the chemistry between the actors, and in the compatibility between the characters

[sunspotpony]

For sure! Sadly transitioning also doesn’t stop some people from feeling dead inside either. And to treat the experience as universal is to risk harming those who don’t have the same experience, by making it easier for people to doubt their own experiences with gender.

If they hear “well, every trans person feels like x/experiences x” and they don’t feel like that, then it increases the odds that they’ll give up on transitioning. It’s far from a guarantee, but in the grand scheme, it tips the scale.

So it IS super important and valuable to talk about one’s experiences— can literally be lifesaving for others—but it’s just as important to say that, it’s not like that for everyone—just that this is a common experience that hearing about might be useful.

But an example re: “transitioning won’t make you feel less dead inside” — I knew somebody who was transmasc, and decided to seriously and rapidly pursue gender affirming care, because he was depressed and suicidal, and he hoped that it would fix those problems.

It didn’t. Hormones didn’t fix it. Top surgery didn’t fix it.

And when it didn’t, because he’d been lead to believe that, transitioning, going all the way, top surgery would revolutionize his existence and he’d feel better.

And when it didn’t, he decided that all doctors who perform gender affirming surgeries were “butchers who should all be murdered,” and that transitioning was “fake and a scam and nothing like the stories he’d heard.”

He ended up drifting from “kill all plastic surgeons violently,” to, naturally, the alt right.

I don’t know what his pronouns are anymore, so I’m sticking with the one I knew for sure.

But, yeah. People expecting something specific and universal out of a transition—buying into the idea of universal experiences—can lead them to great distress when their experiences aren’t the ones they expected or signed up for, if they end up not discouraged away from transitioning at all.

One thing that we do know with a high degree of confidence though? Transitioning does typically save lives and makes people happier. Getting gender affirming care is literally lifesaving for some people.

I just speak up on this because I don’t want people to get the wrong idea about universality and, because their experiences don’t match up, give up on getting that lifesaving care because they end up thinking “I’m not trans, I’m just a broken cis person.”

what nobody tells you about transition is the totality of it. once you dig into gender and start expressing the way you want, you'll start to find the marks of discomfort littered around the rest of your life. you'll notice how you were never living for yourself, just following the guidelines laid out for you.

as soon as you disengage that autopilot, you're on your own. you have to decide what is actually best for you. you have to question every decision you've ever made because they were all made by someone trying to play by the rules, rules whose application will kill you.

in the year-and-change since starting my transition, I have completely changed everything about my presentation, I changed how I talk, how I carry myself, how I interact with people. I changed the company I keep, I moved cities, I abandoned a career path I had been pursuing my entire life. I lost friends, made new ones, started engaging with types of media I had never been interested in before.

there's a life on the other side of transition, and you have to claw it back piece by piece. I will never stop transitioning into who I'm supposed to be because every time I get closer, I realize there's more I still need to change.

[scentedpeachlandcreator]

How to manifest your SP:

Yall made me crazy with this, and please no more questions "HOW TO MANIFEST MY SP?"!

(if yall wondering about my type, it's dark haired guys 😉)

Stop putting them on the pedestal!

I'm gonna say this many times, stop putting your SP on the pedestal, they're just human, whether they're celebrities, models, hot and Athletic, popular in your high school, a rich man, they're JUST humans, they also have insecurities, doubt, sad days, bad days, they're not perfect and you are not too.

Start working on your self-concept:

If you don't know, self-concept is important, it represent how you view your world, and your assumption create your reality, and since the World is just a mirror so it's gonna show you what you assume.

I know when you hear about self-concept it seems like a lot of work, but it's really simple.

What it is then?

Stop assuming things you don't want to! And start assuming better things!

For example: you assume and believe that men aren't loyal, trash and they're cheaters and that you never will get into a happy relationship blah blah blah, guess what? That what you'll be seeing, if you change your assumption saying that you deserve the best and your partners are Always loyal and dedicated and devoted to you and treat you like a princess, then that what you're gonna see.

As for my story after an incident, i realised that i should stop chasing after guys and it should be the opposite instead, i held the assumption that guys Always chase after me and they're Always obsessed with me, i always play hard to get and it seriously fun and amusing 😏.

So start assuming the best for yourself, start assuming that you always get treated like a princess by men, Always getting spoiled by them, Always finding your dream ideal partners and that they only see you and only you and are obsessed and completely devoted to you.

Now here's the real question that you all been waiting for 🥁🥁🥁 -

How do i manifest my SP?

If you want to manifest your dream partner from scratch, you can check my post here ➜ (click me!).

Now before i tell you how to manifest your SP, i want you to actually think that it is easy to manifest them, okay?

Now here it is the steps-

Decide & Assume: decide that right now your SP is already in love with you and assume he's obsessed with you and you both are already in a healthy relationship, going on a dates, him spoiling you (of course because you deserve it honey💅🙄).

Affirm: choose your ideal affirmation that represent that you and your SP are already in a relationship.

For example:

"my SP asked me out already and now we're in a healthy happy relationship"

"my SP is the most perfect boyfriend i've ever had!"

"my SP is so obsessed with me and he's so devoted to me!"

"my SP's eyes are only on me and i'm special in his eyes"

"my SP is so loyal to me, and i'm the only one for him, forever mine and i'm forever his"

Persist: now here comes the most important thing you need to do, no matter what the 3d shows you, you need to keep assuming your current assumption and keep sticking to it, cause you know it's a fact, because duh your SP is yours.

Persist persist persist! Your SP is already yours!

Now let's go to answering your questions-

What if he's my celebrity crush?

Girl/boy, that doesn't matter, no one have free will, and your celebrity crush is a human too not an angel, your assumption is what is true, even if your not that attractive, your SP will love you, because you deserve it, and it's your reality.

Can i manifest my SP even if we broke up two years ago?

Of course you can, you can assume that you both never broke up and your relationship is still going and is healthy.

Can i manifest my SP even if we just met at the airport?

Of course you can, even if you both just met once, you can still manifest them, and you both can meet in different ways, just let the work to your subconscious and trust it.

But my SP doesn't even know i exist😢

Bitch who said that huh? You assume they're yours, then they're yours, period.

Stop assuming negative assumption damn it!

But my hard circumstances 😢-

Circumstances doesn't mean shit, when you say you have your SP, then you have them, end of discussion.

Now that i have cleared up everything and made everything seems simple and easy, now i don't want to hear you all whining about your SPs never again, act like the queen/king you are, and alter your reality because you're the creator of it.

The answer to all your questions: just assume, assume you already have it.

Xoxo, Eli

[thebramblewood]

I find the evolution of scenes fascinating as a creator, so I wanted to post these side-by-sides. This started out as part of a casual playthrough of Julia's prom (winter formal for the sake of the story timeline). It was going to be bonus content until I got a better sense of how I wanted to slot Julia back into the story. When I redid the pictures, I knew I wanted to hit certain "beats" from the original screenshots, since the dialogue had already started forming in my head.

Even during the second series of shots, though, it still only existed in my brain. It only hit the page during the editing process. Sometimes it's better for me to approach dialogue this way, if I'm intimidated by writing a certain conversation out or don't know exactly what direction it will take. The expressions I see in screenshots often help draw the words out. On the other hand, it can also be difficult to work this way because I just have to hope the shots I'm getting will work. In the past, I've had to go back and get a few more because I don't have exactly what I need. In this case, I luckily managed to get enough.

Anyway, I really appreciate that you can see a couple things in this comparison. One, just how much of a difference Relight (and a couple Photoshop actions) makes in terms of brightening up Sims. It may be more "natural" for them to be less well-lit and blend in more with their surroundings, but I like them to really stand out since facial expressions are so important to me. Two, how difficult it is to portray subtle and varied emotions using in-game animations only. I briefly thought about just sticking with the original screenshots, but I'm glad I redid them in the end because I don't think they convey the movement of the conversation well at all. You can also see how I spend more time framing shots for posed scenes vs. gameplay.

The only thing I maybe miss from the first pictures is the visible snow cover, but since I chose to shoot the second set a bit later at night I don't think it would've made much difference anyway. (I also had to take every picture with Alma in it twice because the jean jacket and dress textures conflicted, but I could hardly let her wear that skimpy little dress on its own in winter!)

[hexalene]

I wish my family was inclined to get on the internet and tell stories because the MOST HILARIOUS saga has been happening with my parents and neighbor for the last few months.

My parents have a great marriage. Hilariously secure. Locked in with a lifetime warranty. Literally -100000% chance of cheating thanks to the…odd but effective preventative power of their collective neuroses overlapping with their better qualities. For whatever reason, it just works.

Their neighbor….is kind of a shitshow. I feel bad for her, honestly, but she’s a wreck. Late forties, early fifties bleach blonde white lady clinging to her youth. I’ve never seen her young, but I’ve gleaned from conversations that she was one of those effortlessly beautiful women who sailed through their youth partying and doing drugs and living on the grace of whatever man she happened to be with at the time.

Unfortunately, age and the partying has caught up to her and she looks pretty rough now. She’s barely cracked her 50s, but she looks my dad’s age (he’s in his 70s….though admittedly, my parents are freaks of nature who both look really young for their age).

BUT TO THE POINT: this woman is convinced she has ruined my parent’s marriage. Evidence…? Uh…

She keeps texting my mom apologizing for ���stepping into her marriage” and that she “would never ever sleep with (my dad’s name)” and that they’ve never done anything, she swears. She’s just so sorry.

You may be asking, what prompted this, what EVENT has driven my father from his marriage??

My dad went over to her house and helped pick her 98 year old mother up off the floor. And handed Neighbor Lady a tissue when she cried and apologized for asking for help. He might (MIGHT, my dad is very touch averse) have pat her on the shoulder. Maybe.

Oh, you may be asking, but maybe something else did happen?? Maybe my father is LYING as cheating men do.

My mother was there. She helped. She handed my dad the tissue. This woman was never alone with my father.

It continues

On Christmas, my dad refilled her wine glass. She stared at him like he’d hung the moon. Then spun around and looked tearfully at my mother.

Unfortunately she’d whipped around so fast her robe dropped open and she flashed me.

Note: me. Not my dad. Not something I wanted to see, but like, not the end of the world. And obviously an accident. Did she apologize to me? No. Unfortunately important for the story: all I saw was like, cleavage and half a nipple. She had pants on.

She waited until my dad and I had wandered off then tearfully apologized to my mom and swore up and down it was an accident and that she didn’t mean for my dad to see her naked.

My mom burst out laughing, like, loud. We heard it from outside. Mom handed her a bottle of wine and sent her home. Then came outside and asked my dad if he’d enjoyed the show.

Of course, he hadn’t seen or noticed the flash. That had been me.

I think my parents almost peed themselves laughing over it. While they were laughing, neighbor started texting emoji laden apologies to my parents.

They joke a lot about it. My mom waved to her once and my dad immediately said, “well it looks like our marriage is over”

Neither of them can figure out what is up with this lady.

My bet is alcohol and a long history of this kind of dramatic behavior. I know this woman has been in and out of highly dramatic and toxic relationships since her teens.

I don’t think she knows any other way to exist. And I cannot sell how funny this is hard enough, the idea that she’s trying this with my dad:

The King of the Undiagnosed ADHD.

The Man With The Touch of The ‘Tism.

The God of Mobile Civilization Builders who has and I’m not joking - over 100 different emails and accounts pretending to be other people from all over the world so that he can gaslight his online friends into thinking they’re in a decade long guild war with a clan entirely populated by his female alter egos— THIS man. She thinks THIS MAN is going to take the time to cheat and be in on her drama? Amazingly funny. Absolute cinema.

[x-wondertoast-x]

My struggle with this take is that it seems like you're implying that queer stories aren't good or meaningful unless the queer characters are suffering. Like, queer culture as we know it only really exists out of suffering. And while we hold our culture dear, I think I could safely say most of us would gladly give it up if it meant the violent, tragic history behind it never had to happen - if all the targeted murders, hate crimes, riots, homelessness, and the behaviors that developed out of fear for those things could be traded out for just... existing and being happy and no one caring about your sexuality.

Like, stories about queerness and homophobia are important because people need to tell the stories of their lives and the world we live in (whether through fantasy or realistic fiction or biography) to relate to each other and reach out to form community. But those stories aren't inherently more important or meaningful than stories about the lives and world people *wish* they were living in. And it's not just about escapism either. I mean that's a big thing for a lot of people, sure, but at its core the concept is also a commentary on how shitty the real world is for queer folks by comparison.

Normalizing queerness =/= erasing queerness, it's just cutting out all the othering and fear, and it's just as important to show what the world could be like without all that as it is to talk about the world as it is now. Neither of these methods of storytelling are better or more important than the other, and no one is really arguing that except for you. People just have their preferences, and for most, that preference is for stories where people like them don't have to worry about getting hate crimed for holding hands in public.

I know previously people took issue with me describing a lot of queernorm fiction as feeling assimilative and reimagining queerness as an aesthetic variety of straightness but man a lot of that stuff really does frame it as an inarguable positive that the characters are "no longer gay" that they live and behave as "normal people", and that "gender or sexuality is entirely incidental and not a plot point" in a way i find really alienating. You know, like, this is the common language when talking about it:

again i don't think it's wrong for people to read or write stuff like this, but I do find it a bit irking that it's often treated as the inherently more empathetic and desirable way to write queerness...

[insertcannibalismmetaphorhere]

Theres something to be said about how the beta kids’ upbringings are addressed… yet again, homestuck finds a way to make itself larger on the inside; to put details which in any other piece of m edia would be explained in detail- or at least be considered of importance to the story-in a kind of. Schroedinger’s box.(John is afforded the most leeway with this, at least so far as I’ve noticed it.)

Jade managed to survive a virtually impossible situation, from the time her grandfather died and onward. Especially considering her narcolepsy? Its an outright miracle she made it through. But we as the audience aren’t really supposed to believe that jade simply put to use her survival skills and worked hard to survive. She didn’t fall asleep in inconvenient places and narrowly escape. The time between her childhood and the beginning of the comic neither happened nor didn’t happen.

When we see Dave in his house full of smuppets with his fridge filled with swords, and we hear him explain that bro does not feed him (and presumably never has) it contradicts with a (under normal circumstances) immutable fact of the world: that people need to eat. We know that dave has made it this far because of…? something. But it’s not exactly expected of the audience to fill in what exactly Dave’s been doing. He doesn’t have a neighbor who’s happy to feed him. He doesn’t make the most of school lunch. Functionally, (and excluding bro) not a single other person lives in the whole of Texas! And even if they did, Dave- who FELL FROM THE SKY ON A METEOR- does not legally exist in the capacity which is required to be enrolled in a public school. Simply, dave neither ate nor didn’t eat.

The character who i think is affected most relevantly by these non-facts is Rose. (Although really, all of the strider-lalondes are much more affected by their actual pre-canon lives than any of the other kids.)

For someone whose schooling and social life pre-canon literally do not exist, Rose acts exactly how you’d expect a lonely teenage academic from a small town to act.

Parishville, NY (technically where the lalonde residence is, if we take homestuck way more seriously than im sure was intended) currently has a population of just over 2,000 people. If you’re from a small town (or even if you’ve seen an episode of any 2010s teen drama about “small town life”) you know exactly how suffocating that can be.

Without straying too far from topic, there are innumerable ways in which capitalism has failed america. The “American dream” relies on an idea of upwards mobility that is simply nonexistent for those raised in small towns- those raised without money and without resource. Nonetheless, theres an idea that seems to thoroughly permeate any small community: you have to get out.

You have to get out because you have to become something better than this. You have to get out because you can’t risk becoming your parents. You have to get out because if you don’t, you haven’t done anything with your life. You’ll work at the liquor store or the gas station or whatever adjacent dead-end job until you’re too old to work or you die- whichever comes first.

On my first read-through of homestuck, one of the panels which stood out to me most was 4989, in which Rose explains to Dave that yes, a dream self can be drunk. Specifically, she says “There wasn’t very much to do. But there was a house full of liquor.”

While Rose didn’t *actually* excel in academics- and while she wasn’t *actually* ostracized from her peers for her grim outlook and intellect- we see shadows of the effects throughout her character for the entire run of the comic (And hsbc if you’ve had the displeasure.) Rose is afforded much more significant consequence to her upbringing than most other homestuck characters- especially the female ones.

I don’t really have a conclusion here, just something i’ve been chewing on..

[airosuiren]

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔗𝔥𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔢 ℜ𝔢𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔡

A/N: OKAY HERE WEEEE GO. This is Part 2 of [Y/N]’s story—where the Batfamily finally sees what they threw away, Lila throws a fit, and Evander makes it VERY clear who [Y/N] belongs to. This one’s petty, powerful, and just a lil’ bit toxic. Enjoy your royal drama.

𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 1

Gotham buzzed with whispers.

A war hero. A queen. A legend returned.

They said she commanded armies with a glance. That her magic glowed like starlight and her voice could still time. That her blade never missed, and her soldiers followed her with fanatical devotion.

It was only after her name reached Gotham's news that Bruce Wayne realized who she was.

"[Y/N] Wayne is alive," Tim said quietly, dropping the folder on the table. "But she doesn’t use that name anymore."

Jason flipped through the pictures. "Is this real? This is her?"

"She calls herself [Y/N] of Virelya," Tim confirmed. "And she's building something."

"Looks like a damn fortress," Damian muttered. "Who's that beside her?"

In the photos: a tall warrior in dark armor, pale eyes glowing with frost.

"Evander Thorne," Tim said. "Northern commander. Possibly immortal. They're married."

"Married?" Lila shrieked. "To him? Since when?!"

Silence.

Bruce stood.

"We leave at dawn."

Snow covered the hills as the Batfamily arrived. The gates of Castle Virelya rose like fangs from the mountain, laced with magical wards. Banners of silver and violet fluttered from towers. Soldiers in enchanted armor lined the path.

And at the end of the great hall stood [Y/N].

Crowned. Clad in war-silver and silk. Eyes glowing faintly with ancient power.

She did not smile.

Evander stood beside her, taller than them all, unreadable, a wolf at rest beside his queen. One hand on the hilt of his sword. The other resting possessively on her back.

"You're alive," Bruce said stiffly.

"I always was," [Y/N] replied coldly. "You just never looked."

Lila pushed forward, high heels clicking, voice sickly sweet. "[Y/N], what is all this? You disappear, and now you're pretending to be a queen in the snow with your murder-husband?"

Evander’s eyes narrowed.

He took one step forward. The air dropped in temperature.

"Pretending?" [Y/N] echoed. "No, Lila. I’m not pretending. This is who I was before you were born."

Lila scoffed, stepping closer to Evander. "You must be so bored with her. She acts like she’s important now, but we all know she's the extra. The side project. You could do better."

He moved.

Fast.

His blade was at her throat in an instant, though he hadn’t drawn it.

"Touch her again," he said, low and lethal, "and I will carve your name from memory."

"Evander," [Y/N] said gently, reaching up.

He relented at her touch. Just a brush of her fingers and the frost receded.

Bruce stepped in, stern. "You don’t need this. You’re still our daughter."

"Now you say that?" she said, voice cold. "Where were you when Lila lied about me and got me grounded for weeks? When she took credit for my projects? When you looked me in the eye and forgot my name?"

"You could've said something!" Lila shouted.

"I did. No one listened."

Tim tried. "You don’t have to cut us off. We can do better. We want to do better."

"You want access," Evander snapped. "Not redemption."

"She’s our sister," Jason argued.

"She’s my wife," Evander replied, pulling [Y/N] closer. "And you’re nothing but strangers to her now."

[Y/N] raised her hand.

"Enough. You want to understand? You will." She turned to her companions. "Show them."

Kaelen stepped forward with a scroll. Lysandra murmured incantations. Alarion ignited the flames.

A vision surged up in the air: [Y/N] in chains, her rise, her fall, her crown. Evander kneeling at her side. The world that burned and was rebuilt by her hands.

Bruce fell to his knees.

Damian turned pale.

Tim whispered, "Oh god..."

Lila screamed, "THIS ISN'T FAIR! You're stealing everything! Even Dad loves you now!"

"No," [Y/N] said calmly. "I earned everything. I rose while you were busy pretending I didn’t exist."

Evander looked at her, adoration in his eyes. "Shall I take their memories?"

"No," she said. "Let them remember."

She stepped forward, hair blazing with magic.

"I, [Y/N] of Virelya, sever all blood, bond, and burden from the House of Wayne."

The air cracked.

A burst of golden magic severed ties.

Bruce gasped, reaching out. "Please."

She stepped back. "Too late."

Lila sobbed. "You’re selfish. You don’t deserve him."

Evander moved again.

"She is my soul," he growled. "And you are nothing but noise."

The Bat family was forced out. The doors slammed shut.

That night, the great hall of Virelya sang with light and fire.

Evander twirled [Y/N] beneath enchanted lanterns. Her crown glinted as she laughed into his chest.

Lysandra read fate from flames. Alarion offered a toast. Kaelen trained the next generation.

From the balcony, [Y/N] watched the moon rise over her kingdom.

Evander wrapped his arms around her. "Say the word. I’ll wipe them from the realm."

She leaned back into him. "Let them live. Let them watch what they threw away."

He kissed her temple.

"Long live my queen."

A/N: SCREAMING. CRYING. THROWING ROYAL SHADE. Lila got dragged, the Batfam got shut out, and Evander was everything. Want more? A scene of [Y/N] and Evander's wedding? Lila trying (and failing) to sneak back in? Or maybe the court reacting to the Queen’s return? Lmk! Long live the Queen 🖤👑 Taglist: @trashlanternfish360, @nixxiev, @eclipse-msoul, @plsfckmedxddy, @viilan, @kittzu, @bunniotomia, @bunniotomia, @rattyrattyratty, @texas-fox, @1abi, @niamcarlin,@tomoyaki, @silken-moons,

[bberry005]

tbh to me what makes samira mohan and victoria javadi such good indian american representation is that they don't feel like they're just there to be indian american. yes, lots of indians in the US are doctors (and we see that accurately reflected in the pitt!), but a lot of the time, their stories are told in a one note way. you know, the stereotypical way you expect indian people to be represented in mainstream US television.

the thing is though, samira and victoria don't fall into that. you can tell that they're indian and that being so is important to their characters, but that's not the central factor. instead, cultural norms in indian american communities shine through in their essential character traits. hard work, respecting your parents, eyes on the prize attitude, a strong work ethic, and academic and professional achievement of the highest level are all things that indian americans value strongly, and you can see it in samira and victoria without it being handed to you. their cultural values and upbringing inform their characters, but its not so in your face it doesn't feel real. and mainstream american television always makes asians robots or messy failures, so just seeing two indian american women be so refreshingly real is so beautiful to me

also there's something wonderful in samira being the character with research focused on racial health disparities in the ER. when people in the US think about racialized healthcare, they don't often consider asians and asian americans in that assessment. the way we as asians face healthcare discrimination is different than other minorities in the US, but it does still exist and it's extremely prevalent. and samira studying that makes me so happy. and yeah, victoria is the progidal indian child, but her storyline frames it in a way that displays the way she (and many other successful indian american women) are at tensions with their family for pushing them so hard to be so successful and not allowing room for much else. it feels like victoria's story will play out with nuance rather than her just completely rejecting her family as many stories do end, and it's such a good way to subvert the genius asian character stereotype to me.