#then society is like i know you spend four and a half years on that degree but--

[softgrungeprophet]

it's cause i turned on reminders for it and did not turn them off but kickstarter emailing me to remind me about the alex maleev artbook i can't afford is so ����😭 if it was regular published at least i could say "maybe someday" but kickstarted seems unlikely

[wilwheaton]

the scorpion doesn’t care who it stings

I posted this on my Facebook four days ago, and it seems to have taken on a life of its own for a minute.

I thought I’d repost it, here:

I can not fathom the emptiness, the insecurity, the insatiable need for attention and validation, the staggering arrogance, the malevolence and total void of human experience that is Elon Musk.

He's the richest man on the planet. You can't go anywhere or do anything without interacting with something he's part of in some way. There are literal millions of people who uncritically worship him, in spite of overwhelming evidence that he's a douchebag. Some number of them will come after me, as they come after anyone who points at their naked emperor. They'll spend entire days going after me and people like me, slavishly serving a man who does not even know they exist. They are his army of fools, uncritically serving his every whim. And it still isn't enough.

He can have any material thing he wants, and he will *never* be happy or satisfied. He has no real friends. Every single person around him is either a viper, a parasite, or both.

So what does he do? He bullies and threatens and harasses and trolls and behaves like the weak, scared, insecure child he has always been. That's a tragedy for him, but it's dangerous for us. He doesn't care what he destroys or who he hurts as he chases this existential thing he cannot ever have.

You know the saying "hurt people hurt people"? He's a hurt person who is hurting our society, making people I care about less safe. The consequences of this one man's midlife crisis are global, and that terrifies me.

In a comment, about an hour later, I added:

You know what's really interesting is the tiny number of people who are attacking and harassing me are either typical right wing idiots who all spew the same garbage from behind their wraparound sunglasses, or these weird nerds who are DESPERATE to justify how toxic and cruel and destructive Elon Musk is. Like, nerds, listen to Old Man Wheaton, please. 

Don't hitch your wagon to Elon Musk. There are countless people who are amazing and genuinely good, who do all the things we wish we could do. Stop defending this piece of shit who would push you into a volcano without even learning your name, if it would save him half a second on his way to his next shitpost on $8Chan (formerly known as Twitter).He doesn't stand up to anyone. He doesn't stand up FOR anyone. He is not your champion. He's angry and chaotic and destructive, and you have to understand that the scorpion doesn't care who it stings.

Finally, I want to add two things: 1) It’s interesting to me that a lot of the people who came to my post to be dicks used a lot of MAGA language. It reminds me of this thing my friend says about concerts: the audience looks like the band. Of course there’s substantial overlap between the angry, hateful, terrified, cowards who support Trump and the same who Stan Elon Musk, and it’s real interesting to see it in action.

2) I haven’t used Twitter for years. I quit before it was popular (lol) because it was better for my mental health. I logged in once when my book was published, and I deleted all my tweets when he announced he was buying Twitter. When he took over and immediately amplified a conspiracy theorist, I made my account private. In a perfect world, I would delete my account entirely. But I have to keep it for reasons I hope I don’t have to explain. After I posted this on Facebook, it made its way around Twitter (still is, four days later, which is ... a thing that is happening) and when people went to look at my account, they saw that it was closed. As much of a fucking manbaby Elon Musk clearly is, he didn’t do anything to my account. In fact, the only reason he even knows I exist (if he does) is through a vanity search of his name. I locked my account on my own, and so should you.

I am only on:

Tumblr

Facebook (itswilwheaton)

Instagram (itswilwheaton)

and my blog that I’ve been neglecting for too long at wilwheaton.net.

I’ve had a Reddit account since 2006, predating user-created subs! I’m u/wil there.

Okay that’s all. Thanks for listening. Please choose to be kind.

[weirdmageddon]

the original post i want everyone to see is way out of my hands now, so i’ll repost this again here as new but separate post. it touches on things i want to go into more depth about.

@wasabikitcat gets this idea. this reply—thank you so much for not just understanding what i was going for, but putting my exact thoughts into cleaner words on the bad reading comprehension site.

i can't believe how misunderstood my point was about “spirituality” (i didn’t know it was that much of a loaded phrase!), but thank you for putting what i meant into more nuanced terms.

it's something that can be hard for me to put into words, and maybe i gave people the wrong impression by using the word "spirituality", since words mean different things to different people. i just haven't seen people discussing it so i wasn't sure how to really put it. but regardless of terminology, this reply is exactly what i'm getting at. and this is coming from someone who has a very scientific mind. i wouldnt even consider myself a traditionally “spiritual” person in the normal connotation of the word.

edit: this one as well!

i see this as a cultural/political factor that we shouldn’t ignore, because this sense of meaning has driven people's motivations since the beginning of human civilization.

there's a primal aspect that hasn't really left us but there seems to be no room for it in our modern culture because half of these “guides” seem to be driven by “i cant wait for civilization to collapse so MY ideology can rise from the ashes" and the other half of it seems to be driven by greed. and often they are hand in hand.

i would really like to see actual enlightening ideas stemming from buddhist thought, analytical psychology, collective unconscious, and archetypes to take off in the public consciousness. (completely divorced from jordan peterson. just the original jungian stuff)

i am especially supportive towards getting people interested in carl jung's works. his idea was to get people to understand, "what myth am i living?" based on the same archetypes and symbols that recur time and time again throughout human history that we can all collectively recognize regardless of culture. so it's a sense of meaning based in the self. i don't want people being sent down reactionary paths when looking for meaning in their lives.

i think it would benefit people to who feel lost especially in uncertain/unprecedented times like, with those “there's got to be more to this, something deeper,” insinct. i see that people are looking for this but get taken advantage of or manipulated.

but on this deeper sense of meaning in life thing, the Left isn't doing a great job at providing an option for “lost” people looking for meaning that the Right seems to be having no trouble with. i wonder if this is why we've seen so many of these lost young men flock to reactionary commentators?

this reminds me of an excellent point contrapoints made in her video about jordan peterson, saying,

“The last thing I like is that you talk about deep shit. I was watching a video where you and a couple of zany goons were talking about Plato and Aristotle and the meaning of life. And I thought, ‘Huh… on the Left, we don’t really talk about that kind of thing. All we talk about is how society oppresses people.’ And that might not be enough. Because people need to have a positive purpose in life. I mean, personally, I don’t give a shit. I’m pretty happy to sit here watching the same three seasons of Strangers with Candy until I die. But other people, like Dostoevsky, Camus, other white guys who talk about lobsters…they have this need to have purpose in the face of suffering, and like, not just complain about patriarchy. I guess it’s easier to not complain about patriarchy when patriarchy isn’t the thing that’s making you suffer. But I do think that an education that only teaches people about oppression is inadequate. We spend four years teaching undergraduates why capitalism is bad, and then we say, ‘Well, you’re educated now. Good luck getting a job under capitalism, bye!’ …And that really kind of sucks! But you know, I think that’s a point that can probably be made without comparing transgender activism to Stalin.”

speaking of her, this is a related post i wrote earlier on young men being radicalized and how to approach communication

and by the way, if you are interested in learning jungian psychology and want to see what it’s about, here are some resources to get you started:

i think the jung subreddit has a great collection of resources on its about page.

i highly recommend Demystifying Jungian Psychology to start. it’s meant for beginners. it is available in english and spanish. you can currently find the book in the comments section here. since sometimes these links lead to a 404, i don’t want to link directly to the google drive page. i want you to have a link to the original thread in case it gets broken.

[phireco]

Why I think that voting is pointless. Vote with your dollar. Stop buying from Amazon and Walmart. And take the time that you spend trolling the internet to put out intellectual writing for others to absorb, instead of memes, that provide a unique point of view. We can't all possibly think either point A or point B is right. That motion is completely ridiculous if you have any respect for probability and math. The people that are running do not represent us and we have been stupid enough as a citizenry to put them back in office again and again.

I've been to over 20 countries and traveled all over this world and seeing all different ways of living it I'll tell you what, we are looking less and less like one of the Premier places to live. I give it 20 years before I would like the places I've been in Southeast Asia where you look to your left and right on the bus, and you see a goat in a chicken. There's already more tents in the major American cities than there are good jobs. God forbid the Democrats or the Republicans have a solution. The Republicans have the same man running in his third consecutive presidential election representing half of the country. The Democrats have a ANOTHER First time nominee that no one thinks is the best their party has to offer.

So I'm not even going to blame the awful selection of people that represent us. I'm going to blame the idiots that register Democrat and Republican which make up the vast majority of this country. All of you are willing to make up your mind on an issue before you even hear it based on which party is arguing in the issue's favor. Anyone who makes up their mind before they hear an issue is a moron. And our country, in both parties, is chock full of moron!

It’s not the politicians we should criticize anymore. Consider how they pander to people whose interests they consistently neglect. They represent none of their true needs, yet still, half of the population admires them while the other half despises them. The opposing figures experience the same divided loyalty—this cycle is fundamentally flawed.

The blame doesn’t lie solely with the politicians; it rests on us. We should have demanded better a long time ago, even rising up for change. It’s not the politicians who are at fault; it’s the public that deserves scrutiny. Let go of hope for a moment.

If the politicians were truly the sole problem, where are the bright and principled individuals who should be stepping up to lead this nation with integrity? In truth, we seem to lack such visionary leaders in our society. Most people appear consumed by trivialities, distracted in shopping malls rather than engaging with the critical issues we face. For my part, I’ve accepted a personal resolution: on election day, I stay home. I do not vote. My reasons are twofold.

First, voting feels meaningless. This country was bought and sold long ago. What transpires every four years is simply a reshuffling of the same rhetoric.

Secondly, I’ve come to believe that those who vote relinquish their right to complain. Others often suggest that abstaining from voting strips one of that very right—a notion I reject. Where's the logic in that? If you cast your ballot and elect dishonest and incompetent leaders who mismanage the country, then you shoulder the responsibility for their actions. You bear the weight of our current state, the dismal future we hand our children, and the decline in intellectual capability that increasingly permeates society.

I, having not participated in the electoral game—staying home on election day—hold no responsibility for the choices made by those in power. I know that shortly, there will be an exciting election that many seem to relish. I’ll be at home that day, doing very little, but I know one thing: the only difference between me and the people that vote is that I'll actually produce something that represents my interests, even if in a small way.

I don’t vote. I see through the charade. It's a diversions that distract us from the journey of intellectual growth. When confronted with the issues of low intelligence and poor decision-making, people often leap to the conclusion that education is the remedy. They call for more funding—more books, teachers, classrooms—believing more resources will solve everything. Yet when we point out that despite these efforts, children continue to struggle academically, the response is often to lower standards instead. This results in a temporary boost in passing rates, making the school look good while the national IQ quietly declines. Before long, gaining access to college might just require possessing a pencil, and understanding the complexities of the end that writes versus the end that erases.

And then we scratch our heads, wondering why 24 countries produce more scientists than we do. We wonder why we are no longer in the top 25 and overall quality of education. Barely the best in this continent. We're just one slot above Mexico.

Politicians know how to wield the word “education,” and they often shield themselves behind three pillars: the flag, the Bible, and children. They tout programs like “No Child Left Behind,” yet it wasn’t long ago they were advocating for a “head start.” Are children gaining ground or losing it?

There is a fundamental reason why education falters, and it's not going to improve. Don’t expect a miracle; accept the reality as it is. The true owners of this country—wealthy business interests that orchestrate decisions and maintain control—are not interested in an educated populace capable of critical thinking. They benefit from a workforce obedient enough to follow orders, yet just intelligent enough to operate machinery and handle paperwork but not to challenge the deteriorating quality of their jobs, benefits, hours, or retirement security.

They have their sights set on your social security funds, too, seeking to reclaim that money to line the pockets of their Wall Street allies. They will achieve this eventually because they own everything—your future, your choices.

This is a vast, intertwined club, and neither you nor I are included. It’s a club that beats its members over the head with messages on what to believe and consume. The playing field is uneven; the game is rigged, and it appears that few notice or care.

Good, honest people from every walk of life—whether blue-collar or white-collar—continue to elect wealthy figures indifferent to their plight. The owners count on this ignorance, banking on the fact that Americans remain blissfully unaware of the injustices they tolerate.

The truth is simple: the American Dream exists because you must be asleep to believe in it.

When the terrorists attacked our country on September 11th 2001, we United as one and vowrd to never forget. Never in a million years did I think that's what we actually met was that, we're going to commemorate the anniversary of the year but they will accomplish their goal and destroy America and everything it stands for by knocking down a few buildings and killing a couple thousand people. Are teenagers have killed more since with guns. And don't mistake me. I'm not downplaying that tragedy. I'm saying that the terrorists knew what they are doing and we are playing right into their hands by standing here divided. Check out my video if you want to flash back to hell it felt To be an American in the weeks following that awful day.

[starwrighter]

I am not a baby!! (Yes you are,)

(Prompt) (Previous part) (Next) (Masterpost) (Ao3)

(Part four peoples!!!)

Either something went wrong with that transmission or he was going to be stuck on this planet for 99,999 hours. Both options didn't bode well for him but one was clearly better than the other.

Ancient's how long was 99,999 hours? With a number that big he was looking at spending around ten years waiting for a rescue team to show up and help them. If everyone wasn't dead by that point they'd probably have built a super cool society with Deepsea bases and nuclear power that they'd have to give up. In ten years he would've figured out what the heck was going on with him and brought them home himself. Though, ten years would give him an excuse for why he was still around the same age he was when he left. Wipe the PDA's data beyond recovery, blame the most annoying creature or plant as what shrank him, and refuse to elaborate any further.

A transmission error was more likely than his brilliant hypothetical scenario. When a spaceship as big as the aurora crashed there was bound to be some interference. Whether that interference be artificial or not was still unclear much to his dismay.

At least he had a scanner, that was a big step for him in his progression. A lot of the actually helpful blueprints were corrupted in the crash and supposedly the scanner could help recover them. Scanning fragments of salvaged tech would be the quickest way of recovery all things considered. Destroyed beacons, singed seaglides, and trashcans were scattered all throughout the shallows, pollution likely reaching farther than what he'd explored. With a crash, this big damage likely extended much farther than what was visible to him.

Not only did their ship crush who knows how many creatures and plants, the regular and radioactive pollution would screw over future generations of fish! It was the intergalactic equivalent of a catastrophic oil spill and he was an unwilling participant in it. Something deep inside him ached at the thought of him being a participant in a planet's destruction.

Chunks of broken spaceship were bad enough for the environment on its own. Batteries, trash, fuel, and hundreds of pounds of manmade resources that'd take hundreds if not thousands of years to decompose. Every scrap of metal, every piece of plastic trash no matter the size was something to poison, choke or kill the local wildlife. Sam would be furious, this wasn't a case of natural food shortages or extreme weather, this could very well be an extinction event! Nuclear power was the default for Alterra's larger ships, and if it wasn't already, the aurora was soon to start leaking radiation all over the place!

This was one of the few life-bearing planets humanity discovered! Hundreds upon hundreds of planets have been discovered within humanity's years of space exploration but life existing without human intervention was still rare. Metal, rock, and gas were what were all that were usually brought back in the beginning. As humanity's technology advanced, they went farther into space, with more habitable planets being discovered and an uptick in thriving alien life. There was always a continuous stream of new discoveries in their universe, alien floras and fauna being discovered as often as they went extinct. Even so, it'd be a cold day in hell before he shared responsibility for any aliens going extinct.

Genetic mutations, Birth defects, and massive amounts of death were the first things that came to mind when radiation was brought into the picture. Radiation was the biggest issue so far, the melted spaceship could be recycled, no matter what Alterra's stupid rules told him he could and couldn't do. Trusting a corporation to clean up their own messes was like asking a toddler to clean up their toys; it would only lead to a conniption fit and a half-assed job. It was unclear how long he was going to be here and if when he met up with the other survivors, the need for materials would only increase as time went on.

Scanning and salvaging would have to wait until the next morning. Darkness shrouded the ocean outside his life pod, making it twice as dangerous to be out there tearing wrecks apart. Bioluminescence wasn't a skill he could put on his resume just yet nor was any kind of night vision. It would be both dangerous and annoying to swim around aimlessly in the dark when he had a perfectly good life pod he could relax in.

Standing in the safety of his lifepod, Danny ran the scanner up and down his body, the tech lighting him up a brilliant blue.

"Performing self-scan. Vital signs follow continuous pattern; no adverse effects identified. Detecting tracing amounts of foreign bacteria. Continuing to monitor,"

The PDA chimed and if Danny were an actual infant like the stupid tablet insisted he was he wouldn't have understood a word of those sentences. But since he wasn't a baby he could properly understand that there were alien germs in his body that really shouldn't be there.

Yeah, That seemed like a problem but it wasn't the reason his powers were short-circuiting. Before they even entered the atmosphere his powers were going wonky. Everything felt the same as it did before he came in contact with this "Foreign bacteria" There were no physical symptoms to complain about so maybe it was just his PDA's way of warning him he was coming down with an alien cold?

Whatever it was, Danny bet fifty bucks the metal muncher was what gave it to him. The creature had a face that screamed "Hey! look at me, I have all the diseases!" Now he was no marine biologist but scrap metal and electrical wire didn't exactly seem like the healthiest snack to chew on. Although, with the resemblance it had to crocodiles back home, one could only wonder if it swallowed metal to help with digestion?

Jagged teeth like the ones on the metal muncher weren't exactly suitable for grinding up food. Finding out the Metal muncher's stomach was full of rocks would be the least surprising thing that's happened today. Metal salvage from the Aurora was way too big to work as a stomach stone so it was more likely the creature just liked chewing on metal. It seemed just as interested in the titanium deposits as it was with the salvage so maybe it was a natural way to file down or sharpen their teeth? Hopefully, the metal munchers were smart enough to avoid chewing on wires that were actively sparking.

Opening a note function on his PDA, Danny began scribbling down everything he'd learned from his encounter with the metal muncher. Easily distracted, aggressive, territorial? Deciding everything he’d seen today was their normal everyday behavior would be stupid. There were new variables in the creature’s environment that could impact its behavior. Continued observation would be helpful as would scanning the animal in the morning. If Danny was going to be stranded on an alien planet you bet your ass he’s going to be studying the local wildlife while he’s here.

“A proper sleep schedule is imperative to the physical and phycological development of young children, " A chime played on his PDA closing the notes app without any warning. A repetitive string of Z’s overtook his screen making it impossible for him to navigate through the applications. Cheeks burning Danny turned the thing off and on again stomping with a huff when the same thing happened when it booted up again.

Taking a deep breath Danny sulked over to the storage unit. It was the only flat surface in this Lifepod he could lay down on and one could only pray to the ancients that the lid wouldn’t cave underneath him. Sleeping on the floor was out of the question. biohazardous goo coated the floor, still liquid enough to slosh around with the erythematic motion of the sea. Naturally, due to preferences, Danny decided to curl up on a surface that didn't have his melted organs on it.

________

Slithering through a barren seabed that once flourished as well as one could in a dying ocean. Mourning the lives that were lost today, he'd failed all over again. His youngest had been the one to see the precursors building raise into the sky this time. A blast strong enough to shake the island that it was built on shot out into the sky. They'd expected something to crash into the water soon after but what they hadn't expected was the size of what hit the waters.

Miles of the seafloor was torn up, and thousands of animals were dead. Jason said it was ironic, even after the precursors wiped themselves out they still found ways to destroy the planet. Bruce thought it was just cruel. It was by sheer stroke of luck that none of his kids had been close to the reaper's breeding ground at the time of impact. All of them managed to remain relatively unharmed when flames and giant pieces of rubble fell from the sky.

Surviving reapers flocked to the sight of the impact, shielded, unseen through the cloud of upturned sand and rubble. It wasn't until they caught a reaper with a familiar-looking creature locked in its mandibles, red blood spilling into the waters as it once had a decade ago that they realized it was happening again.

Nearly all who they'd found near the impact site had been unresponsive, charred, or mangled with their organs strewn out through the sea. In the clutches of the predators now circling the site dying in their arms no matter how quickly or carefully they managed to pry them from the brutal maw of the reapers. Within minutes of the impact, they'd already had a death count in the dozens. It was horrific, little bodies so much like his and his children's more vulnerable forms, dulled claws of younglings that had not yet grown old enough to hunt for themselves. Worst of all was looking into their dying eyes and seeing the agony and confusion of a sentient creature facing a brutal death just as their lives had begun. But that was the death count before the others landed.

Eggs with metallic shells and odd patterning landed all throughout the crater some even landing in the cold darkness of the void where they couldn't be retrieved. Their landings had been much gentler than the initial impact. Immediately the little ones began crawling out of their shells, confused and scared, physically weak. It wasn't uncommon for the precursors to deform the unborn, kidnaping and experimenting on children who lived and died in agony. Malformities ran rampant in this batch of younglings. Instead of soft faces and the vibrant, expressive eyes, they'd come to associate with these children, there were pitch-black, featureless heads smoother than sandstone but solid as titanium. There were points when a child that looked perfectly healthy would go limp for seemingly no reason and never move again. A sped-up gestation period was known to cause problems, let alone a hatching that was induced by precursor technology. As much as it killed him to admit, these younglings, while more abundant were sicklier than the small batch of three that'd fallen years ago.

Most if not all the healthier young ones died from the elements before they could reach them. It was devastating for Dick to find the youngling he'd been guarding in his territory, covered in the luminescent cysts that foreshadowed a certain death. The children got scared when they tried to protect them and when these children got scared they had a tendency to die from it.

Every single death felt like a personal failure. It's like nothing they could do would ever stop the hurt that the precursors continued to cause a thousand years after their extinction.

"Hey... B?" Dick's voice echoed in his mind a reassuring reminder that his son was safe and close enough to contact them. However, the emotions that came in with his son's words were anything but reassuring. Stomach filling with dread he settled on the sea bed just preparing himself for devastating news.

"We've searched the entire crater- none of them survived," A wave of grief hit him like a tsunami when Dicks words sunk in.

"Not the entire crater, there's still the one that landed in the shallows," Tim chimed in.

"We watched that egg for three hours and nothing crawled out of it," Steph groaned and Bruce could almost hear the dramatic way his daughter threw herself into the sand.

"Plus it was smoking and smelled of rot," Duke added somberly, slowly gliding through the impact site by his side.

"Geez, none of them even survived long enough to start building this time!" Dick exclaimed a mournful edge to his usual cheerful tone.

"Tch, pitiful," Damian finally decided to chime in, disappointment clear in the juveniles voice

" Who's pitiful? The babies who died today or the precursors who set them up for death?" Jason questioned, a dangerous edge seeping into the bond.

"I think it's obvious who I was talking about Todd," Damian spat.

"Considering how obsessed you are with what the last group created no, it's not obvious demon spawn," Jason sneered.

"Guys!" Dick snapped. "Arguing with each other isn't help and it sure as the lava zone is hot isn't going to make you feel better for long," Murmurs of agreement rang throughout the bond.

" One of us should still keep an eye on the egg in the shallows," Bruce clutched a piece of metal in pitch-black claws, gills flaring as he swam underneath an egg floating upside-down on the ocean's surface. "Maybe they're just late bloomers?"

"...Maybe?"

"I guess it's possible,"

"Not likely,"

"Tch, if it's already rotten getting our hopes up is pointless," Damian added to the chorus of replies.

"Try saying that when we have new baby siblings swimming around," Dick beamed.

"I will not because it isn't going to happen," His youngest argued pointedly.

"Awwwww, someone's worried they won't be the guppy of the family anymore!" Dick cooed much to Damian's dismay and everyone else's entertainment.

"I am not!" Damian snapped his voice louder than Dick's despite him being the farthest from the impact zone. "If anything I'd be glad someone else would be the victim of you people's constant smothering!" Damian spat, his words lacking any true venom.

"Whatever you say kiddo,"

"Shut up Grayson!" Laughter rang out through the bond followed by teasing and cooing. A reminder that despite everything Bruce still had living children and he hoped it would stay that way long after he passed.

( @avelnfear @meira-3919 @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @hugsandchaos @blep-23 @zeldomnyo @bytheoldwillowtree @justwannabecat @shepherdsheart @starlightcat04 @stargazing-bookwyrm @pupstim )

[cowboyjen68]

hi jen!! i wanted to let you know how much your advice means to me as a young butch as well as ask you for some advice.

i live in a tight-knit community and go to a small school. because my school is so small, we are allowed to attend prom all four years of high school. i didn't go my freshman and sophomore year despite my friends encouragement. last year i got asked by a girl as well and i turned her down. im in my junior year now and i still don't want to go. the thing is that there's this girl (who i like) who wants me to go. i feel like she likes me too and i don't want to disappoint her.

my avoidance to prom has to do with the whole dressing up fancy deal. ive avoided the first two years because i am uncomfortable wearing dresses and am worried about what people would think of me if i wore not-a-dress. the area where i live isn't super homophobic, but i know plenty of people that are. some people i know and care about are a little bit homophobic too. im worried about what people would think of me if i dressed unconventionally like that. people talk, as im sure you know. im worried about being discredited or belittled for my sexuality. i know some other queer teens, but it feels like such a jump to show up to prom in a suit. especially since im not explicitly out to many people yet and am generally cautious/apprehensive.

im considering wearing a dress to prom so i can show up with this girl, even though i know ill be uncomfortable. shes a nice girl and would probably encourage me to wear what i want if she knew how i felt, same with my friends.

i don't know if it's worth it though. i am scared of what people will think about me. im a year and a half away from college and living my best, queerest life. i could just wait. but i also don't want to regret not going and missing out on those classic teen experiences.

my heads swimming and id love your input!! i really admire you and want to be like you someday. thanks <3

I remember high school. I too went to a small rural school back in the 1980's. IT is not as easy as some people say. Those of us older often forget that high school is bascially a "closed" society that we are stuck in for all for years so every decision seems to hold weight. Doing something out of step with the "status quo" can have consequences we have to deal with for whatever is left of our 4 years.

SO older lesbians telling youngers to "do what you want" or "just be yourself" or "you have it so much easier than I (we) did" is not only unhelpful it can be detrimental at best and dangerous at worst. Some of my generation look back to high school through the lens of time and experience that think we "would have been more brave" and that NOW young lesbians have the freedom to do as they please because public sentiment and laws have turned in our favor. High school is just not that different now and laws and adult reactions do not apply.

SO here is my advice. Go with your crush. But ask her to go with you to pick an outfit. You do not have to wear a dress. It is wholly acceptable for women to wear suits. You don't have to wear a generic man's tux or suit, they are often ill fitting and boxy anyway, especially on women. GO to a tux or suit shop that sells women's styles and fit. You don't have to do the man's style with the tie and suit coat. A pair of black slacks, a white button down, can be pleated (woman's style) or not and a nice black vest without a tie is perfectly nice formal wear for a high school prom. To dress it up you can wear a colored vest either solid or with a pattern.

Any decent place that sells or rents formal wear will have women cut suits. Rental is not cheap but it is worth spending your hard earn bucks to look fabulous and feel confident. Check in your local suit shops, even department stores like JC Penneys or similar. Many offer women's suits and even have a list of local tailors that can do a fitting.

You might have to compromise a bit on what you would really like to wear but I think giving a little on the outfit and still having a style you feel okay in will be a small price to pay to spend a wonderful night out with her.

[fabled-lady-twilla]

Which of the following ShigaDeku fic ideas sound the most interesting to you?

I have a handful of ShigaDeku fics I've been consistently working on over the past couple of months. I keep switching back and forth and writing out small scenes for each story in order to get a sense of the direction I want to take them in. They're all different flavors of dark romance and hurt/comfort and have great potential. I just can't decide which one I want to write first. Help meeeeeee! 😭😭😭

I need your opinions, ShigaDeku fans! Could you tell me which one of the following story ideas sounds the most interesting or even rate them out of four like 1/4, 2/4, etc. based on your interest? 🥺👉👈

Canon Divergence Soulmate AU

Dark romance, action, hurt/comfort, and psychological drama.

Long-lost childhood friends to mortal enemies to soulmates.

Heroes vs. villains dilemma (fixing systemic issues in hero society together with Hawks + Aizawa + the League of Villains).

Izu and Shiga discovering they're not only childhood friends but also soulmates whose souls are tied to each other for eternity.

Set in canon universe and loosely follows the MHA storyline EXCEPT it actually has a genuinely hopeful ending, gives the League a redemption arc, and achieves lasting changes for society!

Yakuza Stepbrother AU

Dark romance, suspense, hurt/comfort, and crime drama.

Izu and Shiga are stepbrothers through Inko's secret marriage to All For One fifteen years prior to the beginning of the story.

Shigaraki inheritance dilemma (Izu signs away his rights to the fortune away because Inko (on her deathbed) told him to do so in order to protect him from getting involved with mafia drama. Too bad she didn't consider Shiga becoming obsessed with Izu upon meeting him and dragging him into the mafia world anyway). 😅

Yakuza territory war dilemma (because Izu is technically Shiga's stepbrother by marriage, he's threatened strongly encouraged to stay with the Shigaraki family until its safe for him to move out.

Tartarus Rehabilitation AU

Dark romance, thriller, hurt/comfort, and psychological drama.

Izu is a therapist-in-training who believes in rehabilitation for criminals. Shiga is a serial killer incarcerated in Tartarus for going on killing sprees targeting people who are cruel to animals.

Due to one of Izu's co-workers being sick, he's called in to cover for an interview with none other than Shiga himself. By the end of the interview, Shiga becomes infatuated with Izu and refuses to speak to anyone else or release important details about his murders unless Izu is the one questioning him.

Shiga's obsession eventually becomes worse and worse until he breaks out of Tartarus with the help of All For One (because of course he does) and Izu is like, well shit, time to go into hiding!

Paranormal Fantasy AU

Dark romance, paranormal fantasy, hurt/comfort, and horror.

Izu is a mystic who specializes in healing medicine for immortal beings like vampires, lycans, shapeshifters, mages, certain kinds of demons, undead, cursed beings, and of course, all of the supernatural hunters who get hurt keeping these beings in line.

Shiga is a hybrid of unknown origin (haven't decided if he's going to be a half-demon or half-vampire yet) who gets grievously injured one day defending his territory from an opposing coven leader.

Dabi drags Shiga to Izu's remote cottage and demands that the mystics heal his coven leader or he'll slaughter him right then and there. Izu, never being able to deny someone in need of healing, decides that he'll heal Shiga as long as his coven provides protection while he stays in their territory, and Dabi agrees.

Over the course of a week, Shiga stays in Izu's cottage with him as Izu slowly uses his magic to heal Shiga's wounds. Shiga spends the entire time obsessively taking in every detail of Izu's life, trying to figure out why he's on the run and how Shiga can make Izu join his coven and make him stay with Shiga forever.

Pretty please let me know which one of these story ideas you liked the most! My ADHD brain is really struggling with which one to go for, so I would really appreciate your opinion on these. 💚💚💚

[that-ari-blogger]

Inciting Incident (Thank Goodness)

One of the most popular songs in Wicked is sung by Galinda, and centres around the idea that the society she lives in is corrupt and that she is the only one who knows how it really works. But is she right about that? Does she actually know as much as she thinks?

I think the answer is complicated, and that's the fun of it. I think that Glinda has intellectually grasped that the system is flawed, but I don't think she's emotionally wrapped her head around it. Case and point, the complete and utter cognitive dissonance that is Thank Goodness.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD: (Wicked, The Trekkie's Tale)

Thank Goodness is actually two songs. Thank Goodness itself, and a reprise of No-one Mourns The Wicked. So, it's a rehashing of the first act, opening with Glinda conversing with the crowd, the difference is whether or not she is appearing to agree with it.

In the first Glinda tries to argue for Elphaba's morality, and it frames the entire story. But now, Glinda stands idly by and goes along with all that the chorus says while they get more and more worked up by lies that she knows to be untrue.

You would think that the two segments of the song being in agreement would mean that they go well together, but they really don't. Thank Goodness and No-one Mourns The Wicked do not fit with each other at all, in my opinion.

So, what does this mean?

I think that this song shows Glinda lying to herself, and finally starting to crack and realise what is happening.

Glinda spends this song deflecting from the problem, instead of confronting it head on. She relies on popularity and giving the people what they want to distract them.

My ex-girlfriend is being hunted by the masses for something she didn't do, but look over here, I'm getting married!

"Like some terrible green blizzard

Throughout the land she flies

Defaming our poor Wizard

With her calumnies and lies!"

The obvious thing here is the tense. This is happening now, as opposed to something the characters have lived through and made it out the other side of. It is more immediate.

But the other thing that I want to point out is the wall that the Ozians are putting up. The reason Elphaba can't get through to anyone is because they think she is lying, because who are you more likely to believe, someone who you trust implicitly, or someone who everyone around you says is dangerous?

The song is broken into four sections. The introduction, Glinda's two reflections, and Madame Morrible's story, which prompts her to change her mind a bit.

"When you bowed before his throne

He decreed you'd hence be known

As Glinda the Good, officially!"

The following is an excerpt from The Trekkie's Tale, a Star Trek fanfic first published in 1974.

"Gee, golly, gosh, gloriosky," thought Mary Sue as she stepped on the bridge of the Enterprise. "Here I am, the youngest lieutenant in the fleet - only fifteen and a half years old." Captain Kirk came up to her...

"Here, take over the ship for a minute while I go get some coffee for us."

This is the archetypal Mary Sue story, a format where the protagonist gets all that they want and more. The world revolves around Mary Sue, and as a result, it isn't particularly compelling. She wins everything, then she saves the day and dies, and everyone mourns her.

Nobody online seems to be able to agree on whether this story was a satire of general fanfiction trends or not, a fact that I find rather funny.

But compare that to the story Madame Morrible is telling about Glinda. Allegedly, the wizard gave her the title for... not much actually. In Morrible's version of events, good people get things just because, and nobody is asking any questions.

Essentially, Glinda is getting all that she wants on a silver platter, with no questions asked, no strings attached. Well, one string attached.

"Then with a jealous squeal

The Wicked Witch burst from concealment

Where she had been lurking, surrpetitially!"

I mentioned in my post on Defying Gravity (maybe go check that one out) that the central conflict that ended Elphaba and Glinda's relationship was that Elphaba was prepared to sacrifice everything, and Glinda wasn't. But Glinda did have to give up something to achieve her dream, and I don't think she quite understood that until now. To get the power she craved, Glinda had to lose Elphaba.

This song is essentially bludgeoning Glinda over the head with the fact that this tradeoff was not worth it.

That is the dissonance inherent to Glinda's entire character. She recognises the flaws in the world around her but has convinced herself that it will be worth it when she gets to power.

I don't think that Galinda would have realised this, and I am making a point of differentiating Glinda and Galinda. In my mind, Glinda is the version of this character who fell in love with and was changed by Elphaba. The two characters are incredibly similar, and one is an evolution of the other, but it is the influence of Elphaba that makes the difference.

Galinda was seeking power for the sake of it, a person who got her way because she couldn't understand anything else. But Elphaba changed that and gave her a purpose for seeking to climb the ladder. I think Glinda believed she could make a difference from within the structure of Oz, probably to help Elphaba.

Glinda has got everything she theoretically wanted, but at the behest of the reason she was doing it, and now that she is here, she can't even initiate the change she wanted to change. Glinda made the wrong choice, and is only now realising it.

"We couldn't be happier

Right, dear?

Couldn't be happier

Right here

Look what we've got

A fairy-tale plot

Our very own happy ending."

If you are wondering why I've been leaving Glinda's monologues until the end, it is because they make my case for me, and make analysis rather difficult as a result. I have been saying over and over that this musical is about dreams and reality colliding, and that is explicitly stated in these verses.

The fact that there are two of these mirrors the two sides of Glinda's character. The first is the side that craves the attention and has got everything that she wants, then the song reminds her of Elphaba, and she tries again with a more nuanced perspective.

"Though it is, I admit

The tiniest bit

Unlike I anticipated

But I couldn't be happier

Simply couldn't be happier

Well - not simply

'Cause getting your dreams

It's strange, but it seems

A little, well, complicated"

This is literally what I've been saying. She's got what she wanted, but not in the way she wants. It's complicated, and that facade of hers is finally cracking.

That duality is mirrored by the time signature, which is maddening. The song oscillates between a ton of different signatures, and if someone with more musical knowledge understands anything more about this than me, please give me a hand.

From my, admittedly limited, understanding, this feels like a lack of surety. Glinda doesn't know what she wants or thinks anymore, so she can't decide what she is singing.

It also gives an incredibly informal tone, as the lack of structure matches how a person speaks, almost. There have been two characters who have distinct speech patterns in this musical, Madam Morrible, and Glinda. The script of both of whom is written in recurring patterns and rhythms, making up words to match the metre of their sentence. It's pompous and pseudointellectual.

This is most obvious in how smooth the start of Defying Gravity is. There, Glinda doesn't have to change how she talks to match the song, because she is already speaking in the right rhythm.

Cynthia Erivo's rendition of this song in PBS's Wicked In Concert is phenomenal and I highly recommend you check it out, not least of all because removing the crowd gives the song a completely different vibe.

But here, halfway through a song, she gives up with artfulness and just speaks her mind. It's still a song, so you still get the rhythms and melodies, but that is breaking down, and is gone in the script from this point forwards. That's partially why I say Glinda and Galinda are different people, they sound different to each other.

There are a few almost exceptions to this rule, and I say almost exceptions because they come really close to breaking the mould, but don't.

In this exception, Glinda is trying to convince herself that she is happy. The song is limited to one thought, the idea that Glinda should be happy, and there can't be anything wrong. She has got everything she wanted, and that would make her happy, right? Happy is what happens when all of your dreams... That's the word that throws her off, dreams.

This is no longer Glinda's dream.

This song is a microcosm of Glinda's entire arc in the musical. She follows the story laid out for her, but is changed by the journey until it no longer fits. She has changed, and now she can't do anything about it.

Ironically, Glinda has gained all the authority she could dream of, but she is more powerless and has less agency than she started with, and all of that happened without her notice.

"There's a kind of a sort of, cost

There's a couple of things get, lost

There are bridges you cross

You didn't know you crossed

Until you've crossed."

Final Thoughts

Genuinely, my favourite trope in a story is a character undergoing character development and not realising. For example, the "nobody's that heartless" line in The Emperor's New Groove.

But Glinda is my favourite example of this because of the way in which she reaches her conclusions. She is smart, possibly the most intelligent character in the entire musical, but her biases cause her to make some serious leaps of logic and ignore several things that would change her worldview until she runs headfirst into them.

Also, the stagecraft of this song is simple in order to not distract from Glinda's thoughts, but that means a lot of these photos are remarkably similar. I apologise for that.

Next week, I will be looking at Wonderful, and how it forms a neat little mirror of Sentimental Man, so stick around if that interests you.

Previous - Next

[houseofbrat]

It appears that William and Catherine are demanding half in and half out, and yet the Sussexs were nailed to the cross for similar demands. Not that I think these demands are reasonable, but they are IDENTICAL. Who knows what William does with his day, but Catherine seemingly wants to faff around with her camera and plant daffodils with her children and attend four events a year and, essentially, abandon her patronages. William couldn't even be arsed to look semi-professional at Earthshot.

I don't even know what to say about it anymore.

It's so obvious that Will & Kate aren't doing their jobs. Kate's "cancer" is just an excuse to hide behind. It's really only the diehard Wales fans who keep making excuses for them now.

William can hardly make a visit unless it's related to his foundation initiatives. Kate isn't going to do anything except the major events--Trooping, Remembrance, Christmas concert, and maybe Wimbledon in the future.

Otherwise, Will & Kate don't care, but their diehard fans will keep insisting that they are going to be the bestest royals who ever royaled.

Here are some throw backs from @helenaaurelia's blog on W&K's work focus:

It’s extremely important. It’s just not her job. Her job is not to be running a foundation that changes how babies will be treated in the first weeks of their lives. That’s for wealthy philanthropists or for the government. Her job is to thank the people whose job it is for doing all of it. If Kate wants to be a philanthropist in her spare time,(and with other people’s money) kudos for her and I’m sure babies all around the world will benefit from her work. But she’s doing it at the expense of doing her job. To give a drastic example, let’s say a surgeon develops a cure for cancer, but he does it while he was supposed to be operating on his patients. He should be given loads of awards and praise for the cure, but he should also have been fired from his job as a surgeon the first time he just didn’t show up when he was supposed to perform a surgery. It isn’t the job of a surgeon to find a cure for cancer, it’s his job to operate on patients.

and

They are serving the nation. It’s just that they are doing it the way they want to do it rather than the way the nation seems to want them to do it.

and

I don’t think that she’s doing it for her image, but because she wants to make a difference. I just also think that it isn’t her job to make a difference, at least not like that. Its her job to go and congragulate people, or comfort them, or encourage them. She’s doing it now, but it does seem wrong that people who work in maternity wards have a much higher chance of meeting the Princess of Wales than just about anyone else in a hospital, or that primary school teachers are more likely to get a royal visit than sanitation workers. I personally would much rather visit a day care than a sewage treatment plant, but the fact remains that both are very necessary for society, and the sanitation workers probably need the appreciation more than the teachers, since they aren’t often recognized as much. It’s one of the reasons I admire Anne so much. She actually paid an official visit to the London Sewers, to celebrate those who work there.

and

I used to think it was a great idea but recently I’ve noticed the issue that you pointed out. I’m starting to think that only focusing on the causes you feel passionate about is a form of selfishness, and that their main goal should be serving their country. They should be visiting places all around the country and be going to places that the people in that part of the country want to show them rather than the places that they personally care about. No one knows what causes Elizabeth II was the most passionate about because she treated all engagements and all duties the same. I’m sure she would have loved to spend most of her time at animal rescue places , especially those with horses or dogs, but she didn’t. She served her people the way they wanted her to serve them, rather than the way she felt was best.

[burningblake]

all the gold and the guns in the world (couldn't get you off) ↳ by burningblake

Summary:

She snort-giggles. Because it's the only response she can summon. "I'm not kissing you for a case." "What, no feelings of gratitude left for the knight that saved your life?" --- Jane and Lisbon go undercover as a couple to take down the leader of a drug cartel. Set in early s2, canon up to 2x06.

Read: AO3 | FFnet

Excerpt:

"Of all the goddamned restaurants," Minelli swears, rapping his fist against the dark wooden surface of his desk. It's Monday morning, and he hasn't had coffee yet—Lisbon can tell by the dark pouches under his eyes—so those are already two reasons for him to be cranky. And now this…

She sits on the edge of the couch, her arms criss-crossed, staring at the beams of sunlight permeating through the shuttered windows, and deliberately avoiding eye contact with the man lounging on the opposite end of the sofa. Jane maintains a much more relaxed posture than her, typically, looking directly at their boss.

"Why so grumpy?" he asks. "You have a direct informant for a criminal you've long sought to catch. Isn't that what you law enforcement folks call an advantage?"

Lisbon rolls her eyes, while Minelli takes a long, exaggerated breath to calm himself, refusing to face the speaker and instead addressing her with forced composure.

"Lisbon, can you please explain to this man—this menace to society, this absolute horror of a specimen, this—this… I don't even know what to call him—"

"Bolting-hutch of beastliness? Swollen parcel of dropsies?" Jane helpfully offers, the words amusing him as he proffers them.

"Shut up," Lisbon huffs, her voice a mere stir of the air, half-turning her head towards him.

"What, it's Shakespeare," he murmurs back.

She shakes her head.

"Tell him," Minelli continues, albeit with a hard stare on the consultant, "that him getting caught on camera casually chatting up a renowned drug lord hours before they find his car packed up with four kilos of heroin is the opposite of an advantage. In fact, it's the kind of thing that could get us all permanently unemployed. Do you have any idea what resources I had to pull to convince the FBI that you were on a secretly-authorized mission from the bureau?"

Jane shrugs. "Honestly, I had no idea he was under the FBI's radar. It's impressive, actually—if they are that focused on him, I wonder why they haven't caught him so far."

"That's not for you to question! What you should be worried about is ending up in prison— again. "

"But you just said—"

"Sir," Lisbon cuts him off before he can make it any worse, "I sincerely apologize on behalf of the both of us. I should have known—"

The older man glares at her. "Yes, I was getting to you, Lisbon. How could you have allowed this? What were the two of you doing at the restaurant of one of Vegas' most notorious casinos in the first place?"

"Sir, we'd just finished the Barnes case - the one with the double murder victim? It was a long drive home and I falsely thought to let him pick the dinner place. I take full responsibility for this—I told him who Vincent Garpow was, misjudging his ability to restrain himself from baiting a cartel boss."

The rest of the team had taken a flight home, but Jane had stayed with her while she finished up with the bureaucratic ends of the case, claiming he had nothing else to do. Lately she doesn't think much of him hovering around, whether he's spending time at the couch in her office, or taking the hour-long road trips with her. She finds comfort in his presence and the long silences they often share. More than she'd like to admit. Especially when he gets on her nerves.

"Meh," he jeers, then prods his chin towards Minelli. "How long has the FBI been monitoring Garpow's crew? Five years? This is the first time there's an actual plan to catch him."

Lisbon snaps her head towards him, feeling like she's had enough of his arrogance. "You offering to transfer product for a major trafficker is not a plan. What were you thinking?"

It's imperceptible, but he settles down a little under her gaze, that rare earnestness of his shining through momentarily. He opens his mouth to speak, lifting his finger, but it is Minelli's voice that comes instead.

"Well, whatever it was, congratulations, you've officially appointed yourself to this case," he announces.

Lisbon turns to him, arching an eyebrow, a prickle of worry pinching her stomach. "Sir?"

"You heard me, Lisbon. Jane interfered with official federal business. His options are prison, or, your team cooperates with the FBI to finish what he started."

"But he's a civilian. He doesn't have proper training," she argues.

"That is why you'll be joining him," Minelli announces, and her heart sinks into her stomach as she realizes where this is going. "You were together in that restaurant, were you not? Well, both of you will be meeting with Garpow's crew, acting undercover as a couple."

***

She rushes down the hall to her office, aware of Jane falling into step behind her. She wants to turn around and shout at him to quit following her, which would be in line with her usual attitude towards him, except right now she doesn't trust her reasons. Or the steadiness of her voice for that matter. It's just an assignment, just another case, she chants to herself again and again. Even though it feels as though Minelli reached into her innermost thoughts and orchestrated the ideal plot to expose them. Expose what? she questions herself. She doesn't have feelings for her consultant. This is just her shy juvenile instincts and catholic training acting out.

She reaches her door then, and on an impulse, slams it to his face as she steps through. The last thing she needs is to have all that emotional jumble inside her exposed to his very perceptive eyes. Thankfully, she does have quite a valid reason not to want to talk to him, considering he once again failed to communicate.

"Lisbon, come on," he pleads. The mere sound of his voice sends swarms of bees up her arms and spine. Get it together, girl. This is so silly. So not her. No, she cannot face him. Not until she's reined in all the insanity, until she's made sense of her own overreaction, and until she has safely concealed most of it.

"Go away," she orders, surprised to hear the firmness in her own voice.

She sits at her desk and runs a hand through her hair. Opens her bottom drawer to take a glimpse of the expensive amber liquid tucked neatly inside, before she slides the drawer shut again.

"What did you do?" Cho's voice comes from outside her door. That almost completely mortifies her. So, naturally, it is what brings her back. Like water evaporates when it boils, her body has an odd reaction to the presence of high-strung emotions. As if the mere taste of experiencing that kind of lack of control sets off an immune mechanism, oozing calm and numbness into her veins instead. It always came in handy when she had to control situations with her dad and brothers.

"Uh, I made business with a drug dealer," Jane admits.

A bit and then, "How much 'd they pay you?" Cho asks.

"Nothing, I haven't delivered the product yet."

The other man exhales. "So you made them angry."

"Yeah, not my fault. FBI got in the way," Jane defends.

"So you made them angry and suspicious."

"I ... "

Lisbon finally opens the door, interrupting whatever the consultant was attempting to say. Both of them turn to look at her, Cho with the ever restful expression on his features, and Jane with apologetic, albeit inquisitive eyes. She averts her gaze, still fearing what he might read in it.

"Cho, have Van Pelt look into Vincent Garpow's operations. You and Rigsby go meet with FBI Special Agent Haffner to share his intel on the drug cartel's history."

"You've got it, boss," Cho replies, swiftly turning on his heel. She prepares to face Jane then, but Bosco suddenly appears where Cho stood, his thick eyebrows raised in concern.

"Teresa, am I hearing right? You're back on the Garpow case?"

Instead of answering, she side-eyes Jane, wishing that Bosco would have kept his mouth shut. But a look at the consultant tells her that it wouldn't have mattered anyway. Because of course he already knows that she has a history with the particular crime boss. Like he knows so many other things.

"Yes, Sam. That's right," she answers.

"Well, be careful." He hesitates. "If you need anything..."

"I know," she reassures him, the edge of a smile on her lips. Bosco nods and walks away.

Silence settles over the threshold of her office. She sighs, and finally indulges the consultant with her attention, neatly wrapped into a glare and a retreat to her desk. Jane follows her inside, until they both smooth into the power dynamics they're accustomed with—her sitting in her chair, him standing in front of her workspace, humbled and ready to make amends.

"Lisbon, listen—" he starts, but she's the least bit willing to let him drive this conversation. Not to mention how her stomach clenches at the sight of the seriousness in his eyes.

"When were you planning on telling me?" she demands.

He gives her a long, quiet stare. "Not telling you was kind of the entire point," he says, and then without sharing any more information, waits for her to understand the implication behind his words. Which Lisbon does, with a shock that rises from her blood to consume her entirely.

"You wanted the FBI to catch you," she utters. "So that I would get the case."

He holds her gaze steadily. "You were visibly upset to see him at the restaurant, and from the way you spoke about him, I could tell that you had dealt with him in the past. He left a sore spot for you—my guess is that it was a victim's father, or mother—yes, the latter—that you failed to give closure to, because they pulled the case from you too soon."

She shakes her head in disbelief. "So you manipulated Garpow and the FBI to give it back to me?"

Jane glances sideways. "Pretty much, yeah."

"There's a million ways that could have gone wrong!"

"Um, but it didn't," he points out.

"If this is some kind of leverage to get me to convince Bosco to return the Red John case to you—"

"You can do that?" he wonders.

"No!"

He taps a finger on his lips, muttering to himself, "Yes, I figured. Your unique influence on him can only reach so far."

"Jane," she says in all seriousness. He lifts his eyes to hers, an intimate kind of silence falling over them. Something sparks in her chest, but she ignores it. "I need you to quit acting like this is your usual walk in the park. Crime syndicates like this are dangerous business. One wrong look, and they could have your head blasted in a blink. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I'm sorry about that. I didn't expect Minelli to make this an official undercover mission, much less assign us on it. I mean, the delivery date is long past, the slingers are going to be asking questions now. We'd better work on getting our act together."

She blinks, leaning back in her chair. "What do you mean 'get our act together'?" She tries for a light tone, but her blush must ruin the effect.

If he's noticed it—which he most certainly has—Jane shows no sign of it.

"Well, we need to get the cop out of you, first and foremost," he explains, then pauses with a frown. "I don't suppose you own a mini black leather skirt?"

Lisbon's mouth gapes open, her memory brushing over that one less than decent outfit she wore at college once, knowing it will no longer fit her. Regardless, it's not the point right now. Her wardrobe should be none of his concern. And what does he mean by that phrasing? She's not that much of a prude. Not that she gives a damn about what he thinks of her or doesn't.

"Yes, we'll have to do some shopping," Jane continues unperturbed, before she can let out any of her protests. The way he says it, like an answer to her thoughts, sets off an alarm in her. Reminds her that her mind is never safe around him.

She smiles sweetly, raising her defenses. "I can handle my own wardrobe, thanks."

A bizarre image flashes through her head—her parading in a slew of skimpy outfits, while he lounges at the back of a boutique store, assuming the role of her critic. She crosses her legs under the desk, quickly hiding her eyes from view.

"Alright." Jane is quiet for a moment. So quiet she's forced to look up again.

"There's of course also the matter of us selling like a real couple."

It's instinctive, how she summons up her defenses, giving him an elaborate frown. "What? Like the thugs are going to be interested in whether we know each other's favorite color and birthday dates?"

Her mocking tone leaves him unaffected. "We both already possess that kind of information," he says, and suddenly she remembers him looking her in the eyes one dusky afternoon and telling her his favorite color is green. "What I mean is of a more practical nature." She stares at him. He cannot be suggesting what she thinks he's suggesting. And then he adds, "Like intimacy", clearing all doubt.

Heat travels up her body, her skin feeling all clammy and burned-up. Just a case, just an assignment. The chant echoes across her head, pulled like a lifeline for her deteriorating sanity.

She doesn't have feelings for him. He's not even her type. Emotional stability is her type. Except in moments like this, when it's like her own brain betrays her, filling her with this untethered kind of attraction. Moments that she catches herself flirting with the idea of irrationality.

She snort-giggles. Because it's the only response she can summon. "I'm not kissing you for a case."

"What, no feelings of gratitude left for the knight that saved your life?"

She grabs a crumpled piece of paper from her desk and tosses it at him, relief washing through her. Good. He's back to joking.

"I'll feel gratitude when you stop mingling with dangerous mobsters."

"Fair enough. I'll keep you to your word," he quips, the idea of a grin shaping across his face as he ambles out of her office.

It's only several seconds after he's left that she realizes the double implication in his statement. And she's thankful for it, for at least he's not present to witness her turning scarlet all over.

[starfieldcanvas]

So if it's not Paladin of Souls, which is the Lois McMaster Bujold book you talked about in your notes? I'm curious 😊

The Sharing Knife! It's a four-book fantasy series in a setting based on the Great Lakes region. I was clueless enough the first time around (and so heavily used to vague-medieval-renaissance-Europe-expy fantasy settings) I didn't realize it the first time I read the series, but it's very obvious once you think about it at all, and sometime in the last two years my library updated the audiobook covers from the original "beautiful high-effort romance novel painting where they're both white" style to the "expressionless racially ambiguous cutouts that make the setting explicit" style:

(These are the same book.)

It's a story about fantasy Native Americans ("Lakewalkers") and fantasy white settlers ("farmers"). The actual cosmology and history of the fantasy world is very different from our own—everyone is native to the same continent, and have been living in roughly the same area for at least a few hundred years—so the politics of settler vs. native don't actually apply in the same way. However, the tension of "people who share the land" vs "people who parcel off the land to sell" is still very present, as is the tension of quasi-nomadic groups with seasonal camp rotations vs. people who stay in place and build large towns with industrial capacity.

And then, of course, there's the magic. The Lakewalkers have limited hereditary magic powers, plus magic monsters they're sworn to fight; the farmers have no magic and no defense against it either. Farmers tend to mistrust Lakewalkers and misunderstand Lakewalker magic; Lakewalkers keep the secrets of their powers under wraps and often look down on farmers as a kind of invasive pest species. As I mentioned in my tags, Lakewalkers' most important magical tools involve someone choosing the time of their death—though typically only when already dying of terminal illness, old age, or a mortal wound.

If you love the movie Ever After like I do, you may remember the part where Danielle says to Leonardo, "A bird may love a fish, Signore, but where would they live?" The Sharing Knife is a series about a bird (Lakewalker) and a fish (farmer) that get engaged halfway through the first book and then spend the next three and a half books figuring out where the hell they're going to live...and slowly realizing they may have to remake society in order to find their place in it.

Even the book where they first get together is not really what you'd call a romance novel, but every book in the series is a lot more focused on a central romantic relationship than most fantasy adventure books, so it's interesting from a genre perspective. "Established relationship" is normally my second-least favorite AO3 (my least favorite being major character death) but the political and magical worldbuilding, and the family dynamics on both sides, kept me very invested even with the amount of meandering domesticity on display throughout the books.

There are some potential triggers to ask about if you have common trauma triggers, and the main romance has a pretty big age gap, which I know is a turn-off for some. But if you ever found yourself asking "why is the Wizarding World's excuse for keeping muggles in the dark so fucking flimsy?" or "how the hell does Wei Wuxian stand living in the Cloud Recesses when most of Lan Wangji's sect hates him?" or "why aren't more fantasy authors as obsessed with craft skills as Tamora Pierce" or "why aren't there more permanently disabled fantasy protagonists who actually have to cope with the limitations created by their disability?" or "why aren't there more fantasy protagonists who genuinely lack magical powers?" then this may be the book series for you.

[lirotationside]

Thank you @not-so-lost-after-all for the tag. Might as well write it down lest I forget.

Your tav or durge's name and their partner:

Lady Amaara Ashvale

Human Wizard, young and mentally not very stable, lives and dies for Astarion.

Tell us about your character - anything at all!

Amaara's father was the First Advisor in Silverymoon, and her mother, a half-elf high cleric of Sune, was a personal friend of the High Lady. Privileged and gifted, Amaara’s childhood was nevertheless lonely. High society in Silverymoon was predominantly Elven, and as a human, she was often singled out. Other children were fascinated by her ears, and she struggled to keep up in music and archery classes. Additionally, her family held no noble title, which put her in a socially awkward position despite their influence.

Her father was traditional and strict, opposing marriages between races with different lifespans. He hoped for Amaara to marry into a Dragonborn house, but Amaara, having grown up around elves, preferred elven company.

At 14, she began attending Lady’s College, aspiring to master illusion magic like her father. Later, she began dating a schoolmate who is a half-elven commoner studying to be a bard.

In 1485 DR, on the night of her 16th birthday and debut ball, her parents gifted her an emerald headpiece. She later snuck out to meet her bard on the Moonbridge, where she had her first kiss. The boy wanted to spend the night with her, but they were interrupted as the siege of Silverymoon began that fateful night. Rushing home, Amaara found her house in ruins. Her parents, caught off-guard and desperate to find her, were killed before her eyes. They were disintegrated—gone in an instant.

Teleported away by a Spellguard captain, Amaara later begged the High Lady to resurrect her parents. High-level resurrection spells were cast, but her parents did not return. The High Lady explained that they were either unable or unwilling to come back.

She felt guilty of their death and felt abandoned.

She joined the war of Silver Marches. After she burned a platoon of Drows for the first time, she threw up and something clicked. She found out her fire spell is extra powerful and could no longer cast any restoration spell.

She fought alongside the Spellguard captain and a small group of companions, contributing significantly to the war effort. However, by the end of the war, at the age of 17, all her companions were dead, and her captain had risen to the rank of commander.

Returning to Silverymoon, she found her position even more precarious. With her parents gone, she was no longer considered part of high society. Her suitors had disappeared, and she discovered her boyfriend in the arms of another nobleman.

Around this time, her commander revealed that the siege had been orchestrated from within, and her parents had been victims of court infighting and treachery. Vowing revenge, Amaara faced the harsh reality that she had no status, no allies, and no access to her inheritance until she turned 21.

Her commander proposed a fake marriage to make her legally an adult. Thus began four years filled with bribery, sabotage, espionage, and manipulation. Her "husband" supported her through every dark deed. However, unbeknownst to her, some of her targets were innocent, and her "husband’s" house was using her as a weapon to eliminate opposition and marginalized voices.

Just as she was considering making the marriage real, her "husband" betrayed her, offering her up as a scapegoat under mounting political pressure. Amaara was horrified to learn that he had been acting under direct orders from the High Lady herself.

Despite the betrayal, she couldn’t bring herself to hate him. He had saved her life multiple times and aided her quest for revenge.

She was banished. Convinced that no one would love her, she considered death. But knowing death wasn’t permanent in the Forgotten Realms, she roamed the land, seeking a way to find true oblivion. Yet, there was also a sense of relief—the life of revenge was behind her, and she despised the person she had become. Imagining what would make her parents proud, she sought to do good, offering her help wherever she could, hoping that by aiding others, she might atone for her past.

Her journey eventually led her to Baldur's Gate.

What do they enjoy doing together?

Reading. Cuddling, dancing, traveling and sightseeing, fighting side by side.

What's something your character's partner loves about them?

Her compassion, her tenderness, and maybe he doesn't realize it, but he loved to feel needed, and she needs him.

Their life after Baldur's Gate?

They traveled to Waterdeep first, where they acquired the Cloak of D. At the same time, they petitioned Elminster for a wish spell, but he refused. Then they spoke to Mystra through Gale, but Mystra revealed that higher forces were at play, and reversing his vampirism wouldn't be easy. This began a grueling journey in search of a cure. In the end, Amaara offered to trade half of her life force for a cure. However, instead of losing half her lifespan as she had expected, she lost her fertility.

They grew incredibly wealthy from slaying a few dragons and even carried a pocket dimension castle with them. They founded a city together, but after a few centuries, they left, vanishing without a trace. No one knows where they went.

Something your Tav/Durge loves about their partner:

How can someone go through shit and still think life is beautiful?

Something that your character and their partner both hate (about anything):

Being weak.

[geekytheartist]

More of that Avianverse thing I made. It got like two notes but eh the rest is in my gallery already so why not post it.

A world of shapeshifting animal and plant people? Kinda funky.

See one of my previous posts for the first half of the characters.

~~~~~~~~

Giovanna is a Black Widow shapeshifter and a person of reason, but they have energy to them. They deal in computers and coding, but also drawing and baking. They can also pull webs from their wrist (using the biologically accurate place would've been weird) and can climb walls, although they have the very common affliction of faulty venom glands, so they are not venomous.

~~~~~~~~

King is a Cobra Snake shapeshifter, and born party animal. They are a constant mess, and likely a liability to have around in serious situations, but they know how to have fun, and charm many peers with just their presence. Perhaps he'll be your friend too?

~~~~~~~~~

Beatrix is a Phoenix shapeshifter and arcade maniac. She's even trespassed into an arcade just to feed her hyperfixation, what a weekend it must've been for her parents. She gets along great with her friends, especially Max and King, and could probably challenge you to any game and win.

(A picture of Beatrix with her parent)

~~~~~~~~

Bubbles is a Betta Fish shapeshifter and the daughter of two important historical figures. Her mothers were lovers when plant shapeshifters and animal shapeshifters were socially separated, writing letters to one another for years, eventually releasing them to the public once the two societies merged, giving a harrowing look into a person's emotional turmoil. Because of their legacy and the two owning a museum, Bubbles spends her time researching history, being isolate and studious as an unfortunate result.

Fun fact: I didn't add it to her ref sheet but her wheelchair has sea imagery on it :)

~~~~~~~~~

Not done yet, but more of them. Typing on this device is hard so I'll stop here. Also, image limits, but its not as bad as Twitter's pathetic four image limit lol

Thanks for checking this out

[spectacled-renegade-writes]

An Early Start - Chapter 11 - Danny Phantom

Ao3: Here | Masterpost: Here

Ao3 Description: The accident that turns Danny half-ghost happens when he is four years old and leaves him trapped in the Ghost Zone. Clockwork finds him and takes him in to raise. But what happens when Clockwork sends Danny back to the human-world ten years later when a permanent portal appears?

Chapter 11:

A week after his return, as the media began to die down and move on to the next hot thing at the moment, his parents sat him down with Jazz at the kitchen table. “Now, Danny,” Maddie began. “Your father and I were talking and well… we were wondering how you would feel about going to school?”

Without a single moment of hesitation Danny agreed, nodding enthusiastically. It surprised all of them. Danny on the other hand couldn’t be happier. He realized during his second night here, after trying and failing to get to sleep, that he did not like being in this house, and it was even worse when Jazz wasn’t home. Two days after his return she went back to school, leaving him behind. Danny could not stand the atmosphere of the house so he tried to spend most of his days flying around the city, mapping it out in his mind. The only problem with that was keeping track of the time, since he had all those appointments, which meant a lot of the time he was just stuck here, sitting in his room, reading books Jazz lent him.

“You want to go to school?” Jazz asked.

Danny nodded again and wrote: I think it will be good. For once it seemed like he said the right thing because this time she smiled, an excited glint in her eyes.

“I was actually thinking the same thing!” She exclaimed. “I think normalcy will do you a lot of good! No better way to rejoin society than to be a normal kid.”

Danny thought the term "rejoining" society was funny. He’d never joined it in the first place. He found himself smiling from amusement at the thought but they took it as him agreeing to Jazz’s statement.

“Alrighty then, Danny-o!” Jack said. “We’ll go down to the school tomorrow and get everything squared away. You can start on Monday!”

Danny nodded.

-

Come Monday Danny realized his huge error. He didn’t know school was so… cramped. The hallways were narrow and filled with people, worse than the mall, and there seemed to be no place to just take a breath. The atmosphere hit him the moment he walked through the front doors. He stood there, in his new outfit, black jeans and a white t-shirt, with a baggy blue hoodie and maroon sneakers, an outfit as normal as anyone else’s, but still felt like he stood out like a sore thumb. Jazz took him by the arm and gently lead him to the office. When they arrived, Danny watched as every set of eyes fell on him. Everyone in the office was looking at him, he knew they’ve all heard of him. Jazz paid no mind as she held on to him and kept going, making their way to the principal’s office.

Inside, a professional looking woman sat behind a large desk with a nameplate reading, “Principal Ishiyama”. She greeted them warmly. “Jazz, Daniel, I’ve been expecting you. Please, take a seat.”

Danny glanced at Jazz and Jazz corrected her for him. “He goes by Danny.” She said as they both sat down.

“Danny, wonderful,” Principal Ishiyama clapped her hands together. “Well, there’s no point dillydallying, let’s get down to business. I have been informed of your situation and personally passed on that information to all of your teachers. So, all of them know not to call on you in class.” She opened a drawer and rifled through it for a moment before pulling out a small stack of papers, and passed them to Danny. “Those papers include your class schedule, locker number and combination, as well as a list of extracurricular activities we have after school, should you be interested.” Danny rifled through them as she spoke. “Oh, and the page at the bottom has the schedule of our school counselor. I know you’ve been through a lot so if you feel overwhelmed, you can see him within his hours, that is if he’s not with another student, or you can go to the school nurse.”

Danny had the feeling this woman was less of the emotional type and more of the proactive type. She opened another drawer and pulled out two pink slips of paper, and signed them both. “Here are your hall passes,” Principal Ishiyama said, passing one to each of them. “Jazz will give you a tour of the school and afterward, send you to class.” Danny glanced at his sister. She didn’t notice, to busy listening to the principal’s words. “Well,” Ishiyama said, gesturing with both hands toward the door. “Off you go then.”

Danny felt dazed as he left the office with Jazz. Everything here seemed so… structured? Constricting? Both words seemed correct. He wondered if this wouldn’t be better than the house after all. “Danny?” Jazz placed a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

Was he okay? He didn’t feel okay. He looked down the oh-so-narrow hallway then back to his sister. He nodded anyway.

“Okay, then,” she smiled gently. “Let’s start the tour.”

The tour itself took twenty minutes as she showed him each hallway and classroom. They took another ten minutes going through his exact route for the day, so it would be easier for him to memorize. Afterward, she showed him to his locker. “This is where you will store your things when you’re not using them,” Jazz explained. The function of the lockers were quite obvious but after the dressing room incident, and another similar incident with a crosswalk later on, she began explaining simple things that she thought he might not know. Danny appreciated the gesture, even if sometimes he did know what she was talking about. “Now,” Jazz said. “Putting in your locker combination is weird, so let me show you.” It took a few tries but Danny managed to get it, and he found himself wanting to understand the intricacies of the lock's weird mechanism. He wished he could ask Clockwork.

Eventually, the time came to drop him off at class. Jazz walked him to his room and stopped outside. “Okay,” she said, adjusting his coat on his shoulders. “This is it. Now, remember what I told you. When you go in, hand your hall pass to the teacher. If you have a question or comment while sitting at your desk, make sure to raise your hand first and let the teacher call on you. What else… oh, right, if you need to go to the bathroom then you have to raise your hand to ask that too, you can't just leave.” She seemed to be stalling now. They both knew there was nothing left for her to say. She reached forward and gave him a hug. “Okay, then. Be safe, have fun, and make some friends.”

Danny pretended not to see the tears in her eyes as he turned to the door. He took a deep breath and opened it. Once inside, the teacher, who had been talking, stopped when he saw Danny enter. He looked at Danny. The whole class looked at Danny. Danny could not remember a single moment in his life when he had so many eyes on him. As he walked over to the teacher he heard someone whisper, “Hey, isn’t that the ghost boy?”

“That kid who like, came back from the dead or something, it totally is!”

“I heard he was a victim of human trafficking or something.” A third person whispered.

“Whatever happened to him, he seems weird.” Said a fourth.

Danny tried his very best to ignore them and kept his eyes dead ahead as he made his way to the teacher. He reached the man, who was bald and had a gut, and dutifully handed him the pink slip of paper. “Ah, Mr. Fenton,” the teacher said. “I’ve been expecting you. I’m Mr. Lancer.” He pointed to an empty seat in the middle of the second row from the front and said, “You may take the empty seat next to Miss Manson right there, and I will bring you your paperwork.”

Danny nodded, and felt every eye on him in the dead silent room as he made his way to his seat. He kept his eyes trained directly on the floor in front of him and didn’t dare look up even as he sat. Mr. Lancer resumed his lecture as he went to rifle through his own desk, looking for everything Danny needed. Moments later another small stack of papers appeared before him. Danny busied himself looking through them until he heard a quiet, “Psst.”

Danny glanced to his left. That girl, Manson, was looking at him. She glanced down at her lap and Danny looked too, and saw a note she wanted to pass him. She quickly reached out and he just as quickly grabbed it. He unfolded it and it read, I’m Sam. Danny pulled out a pencil and wrote back, I’m Danny. He waited until the teacher wasn’t looking before passing it back. He wondered why the adults at school were people to be feared. It was another human custom he did not understand. Moments later, Sam passed the note back. Wanna sit with my friend and me at lunch? Danny looked up and saw her gesture with her head to the guy sitting behind her. That hat… Danny realized he’s seen these people before. His first day back, at the thrift store, he saw them in line behind Jazz. Right now the guy wasn’t paying attention, he was looking at something in his lap. Danny turned back to Sam and nodded. Sam smiled and flashed him a thumbs up.

After class Danny made his way back to his locker to get the proper textbook for his next period. As he zipped his backpack two large guys, two of the people whispering about him in class, appeared on either side of him. “Hey, ghost kid!” The blond one said, not so kindly. “So, is it true? Were you like human trafficked or something?”

Danny didn’t know what that meant. Of course he said nothing.

“I don’t know, Dash,” said the other, just as condescending as the first. “He seems too wimpy to have come back from that. He probably just ran away.”

Danny looked between the two and wondered if he was supposed to feel intimidated.

“Well, Kwan, if he’s a wimp,” said the blond one now known as Dash, and he hit his fist into his palm. “Then he needs to know what we do to wimps at this school.”

“Leave him alone!”

Danny looked over and saw Sam stalking toward them.

“Oh yeah, geek?” Dash challenged. “What are you going to do about it?”

Danny could tell from her facial expression that she already knew she had the upper hand. “Oh, I don’t know,” she mocked. “Just show everyone that picture I took of you at the movie theater last week, crying at that dumb chick flick.”

It definitely did the trick because Dash’s face went completely red, both in anger and embarrassment. He rounded on Danny, stuck a finger in his chest, and growled, “This isn’t over, ghost boy.” Danny watched him and his friend stomp off down the hall. He turned back to Sam and gave her a single nod in thanks.

“Those guys are jerks. Are you okay?” She asked. But Sam didn’t get to receive a response because the bell rang. They both looked up then back at each other. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

Danny watched as Sam walked off. He wondered why she was even talking to him in the first place, she didn’t know him and no one else was talking to him. She was… odd. But it wasn’t a bad thing.

-

Come lunchtime, Danny entered the cafeteria with the bagged lunch Jazz packed him that morning. The cafeteria was both the loudest room of all and the most crowded. But, he still liked it better than class, because at least here he had a bit more freedom. Danny knew that particular quirk would take the longest to get used to.

Of course he had rules to follow when he was with Clockwork but they were nothing as strict as this.

“Danny!” Danny looked over and saw Sam waving to him from a table in the corner, her friend sitting across from her. He was glancing between the two of them. Danny made his way over. “Glad you could make it.” She said as he sat next to her. “This is Tucker.”

Danny nodded at him.

“Strong silent type, huh? You don’t see a lot of those around these parts.” Tucker said.

Strong silent? Danny shook his head. They watched him pull out that small notebook from his pocket and begin to write, before flipping it around so they could see. I guess so… I can’t speak.

They seemed caught off guard for only a moment before Tucker spoke up again. “No worries, man. You know sign language? Sam and I do.”

Excitement immediately bubbled to the surface and Danny smiled for the first time since entering the school. He pushed aside his notebook and lifted his hands. “You guys are the first people I met who do!”

“Not surprising,” Sam said. “There’s not much diversity in this town.”

Danny tilted his head. “Then how do you guys know it?”

“Caught a nasty ear infection a few years ago.” Tucker explained. “It was pretty bad and I lost my hearing for a couple of days. It was only temporary but I remembered how frustrating it was the whole time. Once I got better, I decided to learn it so the world could be a little less frustrating for others, and Sam decided to learn with me.”

“It’s come in handy a few times,” Sam added. “Not just for communication but also when we want to talk trash about someone in front of them.”

Danny snorted.

“So,” Tucker said. “Is it like a medical thing or do you just not like to talk?”

“Tucker!” Sam chastised. “You can’t just ask someone that.”

Danny merely waved it off because he didn’t mind. It felt so nice to be able to talk to someone again so freely, it felt like he gained back a little bit of his freedom. His expression grew thoughtful as he answered, “Medical, I guess? It’s a long story but I haven’t been able to talk since I was four.”

Danny saw the way they exchanged glances at that. In that moment he realized they knew his story, too. He was four when he disappeared. All at once he grew uncomfortable again and began to fidget with the zipper on his jacket, but the tension didn’t last long because Tucker broke the silence with a chipper attitude. “Well, it’s a good thing you have us now. We can be your dutiful translators!”

Danny thought back to a Christmas three years ago. “Like, friends?”

“Not like friends,” Sam said. “Friends. Tucker and I decided you’re cool so you’re part of the squad now. Deal with it.”

Danny smiled and looked to Tucker. “Hey, whatever the lady says, goes. You’ll learn soon enough that arguing with her is a futile venture,” he winked.

Okay, then. Friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ao3 Notes: Sam and Tucker have finally entered the story! I wanted at least someone that Danny could freely communicate with and who better than his friends? Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a lovely day/night!

[whentherewerebicycles]

also I want to know if the universities in europe or idk even the american small liberal arts colleges are as intensely, obsessively, all-consumingly focused on “career readiness” as we are. I think it is partly a culture and demographic thing here like we have a very large population of students who are taking on financial hardship/pressure to be in college and who need to be making money as soon as they graduate to secure their financial situation or their family’s. but also man idk it feels like everything is so rigidly tracked out and the messaging is very much “maybe you can spend the first half of your first year ~exploring your interests~ but then you gotta LOCK IN and start stacking that resumè with internships and coding classes.” idk man my undergrad experience was wack in a bunch of of ways but I am kinda newly grasping what a privilege it was to spend four or five years of undergrad thinking about theory and reading massive novels and taking a ton of Greek history classes just because I developed a little crush on mary renault’s alexander the great. I was certainly thinking about what kind of profession I might go into but it was always presented as “in what field will your mind & talents flourish most?” and not like, you must do XYZ to be competitive for the market. idk!!! I do get that having a strong financial safety net frees you up to do frivolous things and not count the cost. but I also think it can become one of those things where only a certain strata of society is given the space and encouragement to explore beautiful ideas or to study things that have no economic value just because they interest you. and idk I have worked with plenty of kids who did not have the same financial safety net I did but who were just as entranced by the ideas that entranced me as a college student and just as uninterested in learning to code so you can work for google or whatever. so I can’t really buy the messaging that, as one person told me recently, “the one thing that motivates students is career readiness.” like IS that the one thing that motivates them??? maybe???? or by always presenting things in the language of career readiness are we complicit in foreclosing other possibilities and narrowing kids’ understanding of what college can be for???? IDK no answers just hmmm

[venturismcdonald]

Alright you, I am totally willing to chat with you about Derek Venturi's vibe being "folklore" by Taylor Swift. I'm gonna end up listening to that album again this weekend while thinking about him, my favourite blorbo, and internally screaming while I work retail; and I both blame AND thank thee.

Okay, yes, because here's the thing: folklore is an album full of contradictions and really fucking confusing plotlines and self doubt while simultaneously believing in oneself above all else and that is Derek Venturi to a t. (He's also Midnights but that's a conversation for another day.) Please add your thoughts to this somewhat comprehensible thing I wrote about this!

Literally ever since the thought came to me all I have been able to think is Derek being every song and I have ✨thoughts✨ on it.

the 1: alright, look, Derek is aware that people *think* he's cool. But the thing is, he's had two serious relationships in his entire life. Sally was cool, he thinks he loved her, in the fearless way someone loves when they're sixteen and might have had feelings for their stepsister at the same time. Being with Sally was cool, but he knew it never would've worked out long term because... *vaguely hand gestures to his brain, which must be at least 20% Casey.* It's not that Derek regrets being with and loving Sally, he's just aware it wasn't forever and was never meant to be. He always felt like he had to be better around her, to be a version of himself that didn't prank Casey and start wars with the football team (even though, hello, they're football players, Sally, they totally deserve it! Max is annoying and an ass and not a good partner to Casey and football is a terrible sport that only narcissistic egomaniacs who should be spouting the Star Spangled fucking Banner play), a version of himself that was soft and kind and just not Derek. He can be those things, but not all the time. His love language is fond insults.

cardigan: this one is how he feels a lot of the time. As a society, we've acknowledged this is a song about being used when someone needs something but not actually being what they need or want. That's how Derek feels. He's a god amongst men, alright, and that comes with people wanting him for something or another constantly. Do they care about him? Not really, but don't they do a damn good job of pretending? It's almost convincing. Just like the song.

the last great american dynasty: is he a woman named Rebekah living in Rhode Island after the death of her first husband? No, not to his knowledge. Does he fit the vibe of someone who decides that fuck it, he's going to spend the rest of his life doing a bunch of random hijinks with his friends and Casey and their pack of kids? Of course. That's literally Derek. He has dyed a dog key lime green (Casey didn't find it nearly as amusing as Derek and Molly did, because she is lame and needs to expand her horizons), he has decided to pace rocks just to look insane and aesthetic and he's certainly made questionable gambling decisions (hence Sky's conception. Use a condom, kids.)

exile: do you know how long this man spent pining after Casey?? If we take LWL into effect, it's twenty four years! And in those 24 years, Casey was never single longer than nine or ten months (because she's Casey and loves long term relationships and all the bullshit that comes with them because she's never done anything casually. Except the one time they fucked and he ran away to Paris and they never spoke of it again), which meant Derek had to watch her fall in love, over and over again, with different terrible men! Really, what was she thinking? A football captain, a douchebag who rated her (and only thought she was a six and a half, as if Derek would ever obsess over a six and a half! It's insulting), a guy who didn't have a personality and a neglectful husband have been her choices. He has to watch, from the sidelines, because she doesn't let him in after everything happened, after the fight and the sex and the avoidance. All he is to her is a stepbrother she once hooked up with. Nothing more. Meanwhile, his heart cracks every time he sees her and Peter on Facebook.

my tears ricochet: specifically the first verse is giving Derek vibes to me. He knows he can bring out every side of people effortlessly, he can read them like a book because Derek is so smart, it's just people smart! It's why he knows that he has to try and be the greatest (not that it takes much effort, but it's difficult some days) to get any attention, to get love from his parents and his family and everyone around him. Because everyone loves him conditionally and Derek is barely holding himself together. Scotch tape doesn't fix everything. But c'mon, Marti, Simon and Sky are the only people who have loved him without conditions, without terms of service. What else is he supposed to believe? That he's suddenly lovable and perfect and doesn't need to put in any effort ever because he's not a fuck up? That would erase literal decades of George, Abby and Nora's parenting.

seven: being a kid is fucking great, man. Even a kid whose parents don't like him, who make him feel like a fuck up because he had to repeat the first grade (look, alright, it's hard to focus and his brain won't because Derek is broken and he's aware. Moving on), a kid who tries so hard and never gets acknowledgement. And then his parents have Edwin! Just because! Edwin is planned, he's wanted, he's everything Derek isn't. But when Derek is seven, George and Nora start fighting more. He takes Ed (who's two) and they hide out in the backyard, in a shitty treehouse that'll probably result in a broken bone one day, playing pirates until Edwin falls asleep or the yelling stops, whichever comes first. Because being seven is also impossible. It's great in hindsight, but at the time? God, it sucks. He romanticizes it until he remembers having to scream so loud the neighbors thought something was wrong so George and Abby would stop fighting, remembers the time he broke his arm on the slide because they wouldn't get outside and play so he went first and they didn't even notice until three days later because they were in such an intense fight. Being seven was the best and worst of times and sometimes, Derek thinks it was his peak. In a weird competition, his parents would always try to shower him with love right after a fight. It didn't add up, but whatever, who is he to judge?

august: Derek is August. I need this to be known; he's the one waiting on a call, who desperately wants to get it and knows he won't. Casey won't call, she'll never call, because they fucked everything up, hooking up. He saw it clear as day on her face the morning after, it's why he went to fucking Paris. And honestly, he's never really a first choice, is he? He's always the backup guy, the guy who you drag out for looks but don't actually love. You'll pretend to, and you'll do a good job, but no one actually does and that's okay.

this is me trying: he tries, alright? It may not seem like it, with Derek being a solid D+ student, but he tries. So hard. It's not his fault that his fucking brain won't cooperate and he can't learn the useless stuff. Give him a hockey stick, he'll be so good you'll forget all about your problems, but don't make him do school. He hates it. The only topics he can learn about are the ones he's obsessed with (mythology, film, music, the history of video games that one summer, the bodice rippers Casey keeps under her pillow, Casey as a whole entity (this is entirely against his will. Believe him, his life would be so much easier if he didn't know so much about Casey and feel so much about her he cannot breathe and he can't talk about it so it just sits there, being a crushing weight on him because she is inconvenient! And annoying and the absolute worst!), hockey, all of Marti and Simon's interests, etc) and five paragraph essays do not fit that. But then there's the fact he practically is a parent to Marti, doing all the emotional and physical labor of one most of the time. He tries so hard to not fuck her up because he loves her so much. Ed's cool and he loves him, but Smarti's different, okay? When Derek met Edwin, he sort of just shrugged, loved the kid and failed to get him into anything cool. When he met Marti, Abby told him he'd be taking on responsibility and Derek took that seriously. He's uncharacteristically responsible with her. Marti is the fucking best. Derek tries so hard to not be obsessed with Casey, even though it feels like she's in his fucking bloodstream, she's running through him, she's a goddamn part of him and sometimes he wants to crawl inside of her skin and live there, because he knows she can't feel the same. Casey doesn't love him. Casey doesn't even like him! So he pranks her and grins and throws a fit when she dates Sam (which, seriously Sam? What a fucking betrayal, dude. The male code! It's a real thing and definitely not something he just pulled out of his ass so you wouldn't date his annoying and hot stepsister) and eventually tries to be a decent person because, for some reason, she doesn't give up on him. It's sickening.

illicit affairs: before Casey finalized her divorce with Peter, there was (shh, it's a secret, don't tell the family) an affair happening in her house. Take two guesses as to who it was. Derek and Casey? Brilliant. Yeah, it's an affair, and it makes Derek feel dirty, like all he's good for is being a secret boy toy, but he loves her so much that he'll take whatever she's giving, even if it's just bare scraps. Derek will break himself in half to help her, to make Casey feel better, and if being her mistress is how he does it, then it'll be fine. He won't panic about their future once her divorce is finalized at all.

invisible string: there is only one explanation for why Derek's felt so drawn to Casey since he first met her. She had a schoolgirl uniform on. Is it his kink? No, not particularly, but she's a hot girl in a schoolgirl uniform. He's not blind! But also, he met her and something in his brain lit up, some part he'd never known was there before, some part that made him want to be around her all of the time for some inexplicable reason. She's infected him like a cancer. It's evil. He loves it. There's something dragging them together constantly, and at his age of 38 (please don't mention it, he's coping poorly), he can admit it might be fate or the universe or whatever. Derek loves Casey and she loves him back. Has for decades, apparently. They should've pulled their heads out of their asses so much sooner, because they're in love and it's great and they go do all the cute coupley shit Derek used to swear he'd never do but in his defense: it's Casey and she lights up doing that bullshit and Derek is a total marshmallow when it comes to her. She even gets to steal his food! And watch her terrible reality shows during hockey games! This whole love thing has turned him into a disgusting sap of a person. Shoot him, please. He begs.

mad woman: Derek's spent enough time around women (Casey especially) to understand they are complex creatures. He'll never fully understand them, but he can try to. They get mad at... A lot, honestly, being a woman must be exhausting (Casey and Marti are constantly feeling things so deeply it's painful) and sometimes it's each other? He's not quite sure, but he knows they're mad. And when they are, do not mess with them. Even Casey, who is stupid hot when mad. The world is against women, apparently, so they get mad at that and the fact they have to pay for tampons (Derek ends up buying them, do not make it a thing) and having it be inferred they're just fucking insane. Which, to be fair, they are! Casey especially! But yeah, it's gotta be annoying, so he's trying to empathize and be feminist and other bullshit that Skyler has bullied him into.

epiphany: so here's the problem: Derek is aware he's had a pretty decent life, all things considered. No massive traumas, nothing a therapist should see him for. Still, he can't help but feel sometimes like there's a war being waged between his brain and the Canadian education system. It's fucking insane! School just doesn't work and Derek is broken because he doesn't get it, he doesn't understand, everything feels violent and he can't cope. Hence hockey, where he can hit things and people with sticks! Hockey is great! It's bloody and gorey and everything else Casey hates.

betty: oh boy. This one's a doozy. But it's not Derek's fault, he will maintain, that he accidentally pissed Casey off so much she won't talk to him. He made one joke about her divorce (which wasn't even that bad! The kids laughed! Simon laughed! Casey is the only one who didn't) and now she's stormed off and won't talk to him so obviously Derek needs to apologize. He hates apologies; they're lame and suck all the fun out of everything and they are the worst! But he does, and god, does he hope that it'll be enough for him to apologize by playing her a song he wrote and talking about his (ugh) feelings for her to kiss him in front of the kids and their parents and admit this is what she wants. Because this thing between them has always been on her terms, he's just along for the ride, but he'd really like to be with her forever.

peace: one of the few cons of being as amazing as Derek is that he doesn't get any privacy half the time. Neither do his romantic partners, as a result. He's aware of this and it's part of why he doesn't date anymore; it's too hard to find someone willing to deal with all of it. Once he and Casey officially get together, one of Derek's biggest fears is that she's going to realize he's not worth it. Because she'll never have a quiet, peaceful life that Casey deserves, not being with him. Everything will be an article and it's going to suck and Derek loves her. Will she be okay without getting that peace? He'd get it if she wasn't; it's okay, he won't hold it against her. She'll never get to live a normal life with him. When she tells him she'd rather insane with anyone else than normal with him, he may or may not shed a tear or two. Because he's not worth that, he isn't even close to worth the chaos that'll come with it, but Casey thinks he is for some reason, so Derek will keep trying to prove to her that he is. Every day for the rest of his goddamn life.

hoax: when love feels conditional and faithless, it's essentially a massive hoax. Derek doesn't believe in a love that'll exist with unwavering loyalty and faith and trust. It's not for him. Maybe for other people, but he doesn't get that. Everyone's love for him is a fake, a pretend, and Derek is great at pretending he doesn't know it. Love is bullshit, the kind they talk about in the movies. That doesn't exist for people like Derek. It exists for Marti and Casey and Edwin and Lizzie and Nora and George and hell, Abby and Dennis, but not for Derek. He's not wired to receive it. And he'll believe they all love him endlessly to go to sleep at night, waking up knowing it's a lie.

the lakes: sometimes, a man wants peace and quiet. He wants to go to an abandoned lake, write songs with his girlfriend, let the kids play and do whatever the fuck Luca and Sky do (he thinks Luca has a boyfriend?? It's confusing. He FaceTimes him a lot) and avoid people forever. And then Derek remembers how much he hates camping because urban hell scapes are his favorite thing, shrugs, and proceeds to overromanticize small New England towns until he goes to one. Let him have his fun, he's an artist. This is his muse.