#there's not even any consequences to deal with it's just one of my most unwarranted anxieties

[one-winged-dreams]

So utterly torn on the "God I'm glad I didn't have to hang out with my mom today" topic between "I don't have to think about her, I don't have to acknowledge her" and the lifelong hammered in terror of "Oh god what if she's mad at me?"

[jellieland]

It's just like them, thinks Martyn, miserably, To want to make these things stick.

He's always been an "act first, weasel your way out of any potential consequences later," kind of guy, so immediate, painful and permanent consequences to his recklessness strike him as unfair, unwarranted, and quite possibly a personal attack.

But, well. Here he still is anyway. What's he going to do about it?

His ankle burns where the baby zombie clawed at it. His legs ache from the dripstone, and the dripstone, and, yes, the dripstone again, and also walking off Mumbo's house and perhaps slightly misjudging his landing.

His ear keeps ringing and most of his right side stings from the creeper that decided, quite rudely, to sneak up on him and then blow up directly in his face about half a second before he could raise his shield. And the gravel later on, that he'd seen falling but still not managed to avoid, hadn't helped with any of that either.

He can feel blood dripping down his back in no less then five separate places, along with his arm, his shoulder, and the side of his head—that last one bled a lot and got onto his bandanna which was pretty annoying, actually—all from his many encounters with what he thinks were probably, at a conservative estimate, about a billion skeletons.

He doesn't quite glare up at the Secret Keeper. The healing they'd given him had been too much of a relief for that; his vision had stopped swimming, that head wound had stopped bleeding so much, and it was significantly less painful to walk. But the look he gives them is certainly glare-adjacent.

"You do know injuries aren't supposed to stick around like this, don't you?" he mutters, bitterly. "I know you like twisting stuff, but this is ridiculous. It's unnatural, is what it is!"

Someone snorts behind him.

He turns, and he sees Cleo. Neat, meticulous stitches are visible across their skin. Martyn hasn't met many people with scars before, but she's one of them.

The only new one is what looks, ironically enough, like a zombie bite on their arm, entirely healed over.

"It's really not that hard to deal with if you're just patient," she says.

"Ah," he says. "Well. That's my problem right there, then, isn't it?"

"It certainly looks like it," they say, amused. They're laughing at him again. He can't even be mad, since all in all, he totally deserves it.

"Yeah, alright," he says, a bit indignant just for the sake of what remains of his pride. "No need to rub it in! I hope you realize that if healing just worked normally, I'd be doing really well, actually."

"Hmm. Right, you do tend to throw yourself off of cliffs, and then try and work out how you'll save yourself on the way down, don't you?" She gives him a knowing look. "But look on the bright side—when you do die, you'll get to be perfectly healthy again for... I give it ten seconds. After that, you'll start making decisions."

"Hey, I'll have you know I went to the Nether for ages, and got out without a scratch on me that I didn't have when I arrived!" he retorts.

"Oh, so you can be careful, you just choose not to be?" They raise a judgemental eyebrow.

"Well... I mean." He half-shrugs, then winces. "I mean. Yeah. Yes. You know this about me."

There is a brief pause. She gives him an unreadable look, eyes catching on the blood seeping through his shirt. "...Yeah. I guess I do."

He glances over at the Secret Keeper again, bold and unmoving against the unnaturally darkened sky.

When he looks back, Cleo is still watching him. "You didn't even bandage those, did you?" they ask, with a touch of what most people would think was disdain. "Let alone stitch them up."

"I mean, no? It's not like it'll do anything, is it?" he asks, taken aback. "The good old 'Powers That Be' want us to bleed, and they want us to keep bleeding! Who am I to argue?"

She narrows her eyes as though she doesn't quite understand his point. "I'm not saying that would fix it. I don't think any of us are going to live long enough for that method of healing to work." They shrug. "Would make it hurt less, though."

Now it's his turn to narrow his eyes. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," she says. "At least, so I've heard. For me, it's mostly about making sure I don't start physically falling apart, because it's really inconvenient when that does start happening."

He nods in acknowledgement. "Well, maybe I'll give it a go if I have the time." It all sounds a bit far-fetched to him. Much better to spend time working towards completing the next secret task he gets, or persuading people to give him the healing they have to spare, rather than losing hours on something that wouldn't actually help him in the long run.

(Maybe it's an echo, maybe it's just who he is, but Martyn's time is precious, and he is not giving it up for something so monotonous. Who would find that interesting?)

"Alright," they say. "If you're sure. But no one else is going to do it for you, you know."

He snorts. "Cleo," he says. "You're funny." She, of all people, should know he's already well aware of that.

"Right," they say, dryly. "Well, unless you want anything else I think I'm done here."

"Nah, not really." he says, then pauses. Frowns.

As unconvinced as he is, she really didn't have to say that to him. She deserves at least something in return.

"I will say," he says delicately, "if that advice really does help. You should probably keep it to yourself. You know. Death game, and all that."

All at once, their expression turns cold. "I think it's my business what I choose to give up, actually," she snaps.

Martyn's eyes briefly flick over to the Secret Keeper. "I mean..."

"No. I meant what I said." They cross their arms. "It's up to other people what they choose to do with it. But what I give them is up to me." She glances at the Secret Keeper, and then back to him. "No one's ever been able to tell me what I owe, or don't owe, to anyone." They smirk, and give him a piercing look. "You know this about me."

"...Yeah," he says. "I guess I do."

There is a short silence.

"Well!" He claps abruptly. "I won't keep you!"

"No, you won't," she says. "I'd best be off. This might come as a surprise, but I do actually have better things to do than hang out around Grian's creepy rock all day."

"Fair, fair." He chuckles, and raises a hand in farewell as they leave. "See you around."

Once she's out of sight, he goes back to staring at the Secret Keeper.

It's quiet.

"They're doing pretty well this time, huh?" he says. "If she keeps going like this, she probably won't get another happy ending, will she."

The air is very still, here. It's as though the place is trapped in night, even when he can see the sun in the sky.

The Secret Keeper does not answer him.

"I know you, though," he says. "You won't let it be all about being careful. That would be boring."

The thought nags at him that Cleo hasn't sounded as though they'd found any of this boring. Surely there had to be more to it than what she'd said? There had to be.

If there wasn't, then what was the point of all this pain?

He shifts, and his shoulder twinges, and he hisses quietly with frustration.

"Things already stuck," he says, unhappily. "They already stayed. I thought that was obvious."

The rock just stands there.

Judgemental. Impartial. It's impressive how it can manage to be both.

Martyn sighs heavily, and winces, and turns away. He looks towards his extremely small, entirely copied base, and a place where the sky is capable of letting in the light.

He pokes gingerly at his head wound. It's shallow, but painful.

"Maybe just this one," he mutters. "Could repurpose my bandanna. Although I guess I should probably wash it first. That would be smart." He wipes at his face. "If I don't then blood's going to start getting in my eyes. But not in a cool way, just in a way where I'll fall in a ravine by accident or something."

Nobody responds. That's ok. He hasn't exactly endeared himself to anyone, recently.

In a game that's even more about trust than usual, there's a part of him that doesn't mind being a lone wolf, as it were. At least for now. Harder to stab someone in the back if you don't let them get behind you, right?

He can make this work. He'll just have to adapt. He's good at that, usually! He just has to find the angle.

After all, he may not be patient, but he is persistent.

And he suspects being a liar will come in handy, for this one.

[antiloreolympus]

8 Anti LO Asks

1. Nah but i agree tho, hermes and persephone in lo just have more chemistry and actual history/compatibility that she just doesnt have with hades, and the same can be said with hades and hera. its just wild the whole point of the comic is supposed to be about hxp and yet theyre so boring//illogical meanwhile decent writing goes into them being with other people.

2. LO is supposed to have modern values, yet the gods, or at least hades, are authoritarians? like the denizens of the underworld do not like him, so they have every right to question persephone and see if shes actually going to be a good queen to maybe make their lives better and not just someone to aide in hades' abuses of powers, and it's pointing towards the latter. how is this "progressive' if it promotes absolute monarchs are allowed to do whatever they want and face no consequences for it?

3. so much of what could have been interesting design symbolism is just gone. persephone and hades were dressed in white and black to look like a bride and groom? now every guy wears a black suit and the women all wear white, no matter the relationship. the red eyes are to symbolize persephone's inner darkness and feelings? theyre just slapped on at random now. her hair length lost all meaning. persephone isnt even a unique color anymore. any thought that was once there is just gone now.

4. good lord the person who interviewed rachel for that fancast is kissing her ass hard, arent they? people have been fancasting their stuff for years now, even when it's just for themselves, she's hardly the first or most important person to do so, esp when it comes with some, ahem, rather racist undertones. why are most if not the only people of color the villains or hypersexual compared to the pale and pure persephone? rachel please check your internalized biases here for a second, please.

5. Maybe it's unwarrented, but the non-greek names of some of the nymphs pisses me off to no end, and I'm not even Greek. They feel so out of place! Why does EVERYTHING have to be Americanized?!?!

6. the flying stuff persephone does also is such a dumb cop out? like one of the most iconic things in myth is the chariots and their animals, including demeter having flying snakes. plus shes not even unique in it either? like hermes flies, so does zeus and hades and im sure basically everyone else, so who cares? how is it a big deal if persephone does it? doesnt that also just make the powers of the gods less unqiue? like so whats so special about hermes then?

7. does anyone know why hxps first meeting was retconned tho? bc them meeting with cerberus is still something webtoons clings to advertise it yet thats not canon anymore bc they met way earlier with persephone being naked, him drunk, and her possibly being underage at the time too?? like theres so many dumb writing choices in this series but retconning the one iconic part in nearly 4 years of publishing for a creepy new version that just makes the series more confusing is so??? why???

8. Okay the shading on Persephones outfit with her pink skin tone makes the outfit look pink as Well.

Also lmao Hades outfit makes him look like a military dictator not a king. The tassels on the coat make it seem like hes going to war not to court.... Well I guess he is sorta declaring war on Zeus by not backing him and protecting Persephone - whos currently a "traitor to the triarchy".

(Also why is Persephone so Tiny next to him?? I can't be the only one who thinks she looks like a child?? Or young teen and not a young woman?)

Whyre people getting mad at Demeter? Shes a mom. She was worried about Persephone. And yeah, maybe the questions arent the "most pressing" but if I was Demeter I too would be wondering where my (basically) teen daughter was staying (with a friend or 40 yr old man who you barely know).

And considering Demeters insistence on whether Perse was with Hecate makes me think Hecate lied to Demeter - so shes likely covering Hades and Kore's asses because she knows its creepy and that if Demeter knew the truth she would (rightfully) freak out. (And I would also be concerned with why the underworld staff are referring to my daughter who I haven't seen in weeks as "my lady" and (I know she didnt hear this, but) why the king of the underworld is referring to Perse as "his wife" even mistakenly).

[uneryx]

A story + some advice

Once upon a time, back in 2009, I was “cancelled”.

We didn’t call it that, back then, but basically, after making a shitty, sanctimonious post, nearly every online friend I had made told me to go fuck myself and stopped talking to me. [below the cut - the story, plus some advice to the TDP fandom about toxic fans, consequences, and bad fan behavior from someone who has both been both accuser and defendant. This isn’t a Pity Me post, btw, just me trying to neutrally describe a Bad Time and draw comparisons to an ongoing situation to express both sympathy and clearly state that sometimes consequences are deserved.]

Oh, I had my reasons for the post I made. I was living with my parents, and they had discovered my secret livejournal. After several hours of screaming matches I was given the ultimatum - quit livejournal and LJRP forever, or move out with nothing but my car, my clothes, and the $60 I had in the bank. I chose not being homeless.

As part of this, I was allowed to make one final LJ post - a goodbye, telling people where I was, a (heavily edited) version of what happened and a plea to all my LJ friends to consider that they too might be “addicted to the internet” and they should “save themselves”. It was self-righteous and unwelcome, and my mother had no compunctions showing me the comments telling me to kill myself, get fucked, etc. It was devastating, and I spent the end of 2009 and the beginning of 2010 completely socially isolated, with no one but my parents for friendship. Needless to say, it blew.  Some of those friendships came back, either because those friends had the patience and kindness to understand my situation/hadn’t taken it so personally, or because after years (and I do mean literal years, like... 5+ years), mutual forgiveness happened. But not all of them. There are people who I spoke with daily who i haven’t spoken to in 12 years and I wonder what they’re up to now. Good things, I hope. I wish them nothing but success and happiness. But I had been an asshole and made a post that hurt people, and promptly been shown the door. And I don’t expect anyone to forgive me for being an asshole, even if my own circumstances were pretty dire. I made the choices that I did, and live with the consequences of those choices. That’s... just being an adult. Now. Lets talk about TDP and a certain she who will not be named. Miss thing has said and done some things that are high on my bad-fan-behavior list. She’s tagged the official account in a plea to have them mediate her fandom drama. She posted a suicide threat in the main fandom hashtag, without any warnings or tw tags, just right there for any and everyone to see. She’s made some pretty harsh accusations of other fans of bullying, harassment and death threats, but has produced no receipts or proof, which - in this day and age - is pretty important when making such a serious allegation - meaning I have to assume she’s making it up. She’s defended JKR and said that calling ol’ Joanne a TERF is unwarranted, claimed that “biological gender” can’t be ignored, whined about “liberal privilege,” and claimed that white people experience racism too because there isn’t enough “Tuscan rep.” (girl, what? Tuscany? I guarandamntee you more white people know what Tuscan culture looks like than Fillipino or Indigenous culture, what the hell.) She asks her followers to brigade and harass other fans as well as the people she’s accused, and blows things out of proportion... and then has had repeated histrionic meltdowns in the main fandom  hashtag, the public square of fandom, over one of these big name fans allegedly getting other fans to block her (still, no receipts).  I feel like I shouldn’t have to say this, but the claims she’s making are not true. If you know the ppl in question and follow them for any length of time, that is not the people who they are and they would never. Furthermore, trying to get Wonderstorm involved like they’re the fan police is, as i have said in my most popular post this week, bad. It’s bad. It’s bad fan behavior and being called out for it is deserved. So why am I telling you my sob story and then whipping around to talk about a similar story? Because I deserved being cancelled. I said something shitty - even if my circumstances were understandable and sympathetic! But what I did with that is attacked and harmed other people.  Attacking and harming others and making your drama and mental health public is toxic. People have a right to call you out, block you, and stop interacting with you if your behavior is harmful to them and the people they care about. It’s not harassment, its not bullying. It’s fucking consequences for being someone people don’t want to be around. I get it, I really do. It SUCKS. But sometimes you have to grow up and realize that when you hurt people, they might hurt you back. Nobody in fandom wants to be around someone who is constantly making drama their problem. And nobody in fandom should have to deal with that. 

I want miss missy to take it out of the fandom. She keeps threatening to leave tumblr and honestly I wish she would? At least until she’s grown, matured and learned how to handle her mental health in a productive way that doesn’t drag everyone, of all ages, into the fray. As it is right now she’s just making herself and everyone else miserable. Redemption isn’t something magically granted because one has apologized - it must be earned by a good faith demonstration of change. Not a performative change, but TRUE change. Until then, well... Sometimes you gotta cut your losses and leave. If you’re young and riled and feeling like the big mean fandom BNFs are harassing this poor poor mentally ill queer woman? Consider, perhaps, that she isn’t the only mentally ill queer woman in the fandom (hi!), and that when people call her out for toxic behavior it’s not bullying, but consequences. (BTW, madam, if you’re reading this: I didn’t block you because anyone told me to - in fact, i was told by certain parties NOT to block you. I blocked you because I don’t want you looking at my posts and thinking you can use my platform to give your self-aggrandizing pity party legitimacy like you absolutely did whenever I blogged about forgiveness, fan culture or positivity. These posts are not for you. Nice to see you didn’t respect my boundaries and are looking at this logged out, too.)

[aricazorel]

10. An alternate ending to an episode or scene?

Thank you for the ask! Sorry it took me a while to get to it...

This is from a meme about things you might have done differently from a movie/series/video game you like. I can't find the original meme because my timeline ate it but anyway...

This is for Mass Effect 1. Kaidan Alenko x Rebecca Shepard. 2933 words. The scene is the part of the debriefing after the Virmire mission if you choose to save Kaidan. I don't necessarily like the dialogue choices during the debrief or the conversation you can have right after. To me it didn't deal with the consequences of the choice made on Virmire very well, especially if Kaidan and Shepard were together. Here's my version:

"Why me?"

“I can’t believe Ash didn’t make. How could we just leave her down there?” Kaidan said in quiet shock during the debriefing after the Virmire mission. His words giving voice to everyone’s thoughts. While a success, that victory had come with a price. A high price.

“Williams knew the risks going in. She gave her life to save the rest of us,” Commander Rebecca Shepard said evenly, honestly. The Lt. knew what she said was true. They all did, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear.

“Why me?” Alenko pushed, his expression one of incomprehension. Everyone knew the bomb would have gone off regardless of whether he had been saved or not. No one had questions the command decision Shepard had made on Virmire. Everyone knew the stakes and supported the call that had been made, placing no blame on their commanding officer.

“We had to leave her behind. Saren has to be stopped. At anycost,” Shepard explained, pushing aside her own regret and guilt to help her Lt. deal with his own.

“Why not her?” he asked with soulful eyes. The very eyes she had come to know so well. The ones she looked to for reassurance and sometimes guidance. Something she had never done before with anyone, not since becoming an N7. Now they looked for a reason for the outcome of the mission, someone or something to blame.

“There was no time. I couldn’t save you both.” She admitted the awful truth in a quieter tone, knowing full well the rest of the group could still hear her. This wasn’t a conversation they should have in front of others, but he needed something, and she couldn’t deny him that. “I’m sorry, Kaidan. I wish there had been another way. But there wasn’t. You know that.”

“I know. And I am grateful,” Kaidan replied, his expression softening. That did not stop him from stating the exact cause of her own guilt whether it was true or not. “But Ash died because of me. Because of us.”

“It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t my fault,” the Commander stated firmly, in her most even command voice. Willing herself, Kaidan, and everyone else in the room to believe it. Hoping simply saying it was enough. “The only one to blame here is Saren.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m—We’ll get it done.” Kaidan resumed his professional demeanor as he swiveled in his chair back to the center of the room. It was typical Alenko behavior and totally appropriate for what they had just gone through. The minor outburst however was not characteristic of the Lt. and she was sure he would insist on forgetting about it later. Maybe even apologize for it. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t unwarranted.

The rest of the debrief proceeded as all the others had except for the somber mood and the empty chair beside Kaidan. Everyone filed out of the room when it concluded except Shepard who walked over to the consoles to update the Council on current events. As she did, the N7 noted Alenko waiting near the door as she punched up the comm channel for the Council. She turned just enough to see his face, his expression stoic. But his whiskey-colored eyes longing for something. What that was she wasn’t sure and until the next part of her job was completed…

She nodded at him even though he appeared to want to say something. She turned from him before he could as the Council appeared before her. Whatever he wanted to say would have to wait. It always had to wait…

~ ~ ~

After the praise and reprimand from the Council, Shepard checked in with Pressley before descending to the crew deck, fully intending to retreat to her quarters. Of course, that had been before she’d seen Kaidan checking over the auxiliary ops panel right beside the door to her quarters. She had suspected for a long time that he checked the panel more than necessary so that he’d have a legitimate excuse to catch her attention and talk to her. Normally she did not mind it. In fact, she enjoyed their impromptu conversations. She enjoyed being around him period but right then…

The Commander paused a few feet from her quarters, staring at the dark colored metal of the doors. She closed her eyes. She could avoid it. Call everything off. No longer acknowledge the growing relationship between himself and the Lt. After Virmire she should but…

The memory of pleading whiskey brown eyes flashed in her mind. Damn it. She couldn’t leave it the way things were. He deserved more. Ash deserved more.

She opened her eyes and walked the few steps required to reach the console…and Kaidan. She stood silently beside it, waiting for him to say something. She didn’t trust herself to start the conversation, waiting to know his state of mind first.

She watched him take a breath and then wipe his brow. He slowly turned towards her as he asked, “Anything you need, Commander?”

His tone was formal, just like it had been at the beginning of their mission. Fine. She could start out that way, though she knew that’s not how this would end. But she needed to be straight with him. For both of them. For Ashley. “I wanted to see how you are dealing with Ash’s death.”

“Dealing…ma’am,” Alenko replied slowly. His tone even, professional still. Maintaining eye contact. All the signs of a good officer. But that wasn’t what she wanted but maybe that’s what he did. “Sorry for anything I said back there. Adrenaline.”

She nodded. She had expected him to apologize, to downplay what had occurred. She doubted anyone else would actually mention it either. Everything was still too fresh but this—the guilt and blame needed to be addressed before anything else happened. Before it adversely affected the mission. Before it came between them…if there was a them. “I understand. I don’t like losing people either.”

“I’ve served for years but never lost a soldier under my command. Not to hostile action anyway,” Alenko admitted. Even though he had not been directly in charge of the mission, he still outranked Ashley. He had survived while a subordinate hadn’t either because of luck or personal relations. Maybe both.

Regardless the personal question the Lt. asked next was not the one she had anticipated. “If you don’t mind my asking, how did you deal with the loses on Elysium?”

It wasn’t what she wanted to talk about. It wasn’t what would help her deal with Ash’s death. Not really, but maybe it would help him. If that was the case, she would indulge his question. “It was my job to get everyone out safe. I failed. I vowed not to let that happen again. Same here. I’ll remember her, and I’ll do better for her.”

“Yeah. I guess that is all we can do. Thanks for the advice, ma’am.” He responded with respect and professionalism. She expected no less from the Lt. she had come to know and rely on. What bothered her was the fact he wasn’t questioning her further about why she had made the call. Sure. What she had said back in the conference room made sense and was true but didn’t he want to know more?

She had come to accept that Kaidan kept his emotions in check partially because he saw it as being professional. But more importantly it helped ensure his biotics remained in check. But would this really cause him to lose control?

When she didn’t move to leave, he asked, “Is there something else, Commander?”

She frowned. “Yes. I thought you might need to talk to me.”

“Isn’t that what we just did?” he asked, his tone almost sounding flippant. Maybe he was trying to lighten the mood, maybe he was trying to act normal. Either way she wasn’t buying it.

“Kaidan, that’s not what I meant,” she said as evenly as possible, dropping rank and protocol. Maybe she needed to confront what had happened more for her benefit instead of his. But that didn’t mean it wouldn’t help him too.

“Then what did you mean, Commander?” the Canadian officer asked as he crossed his arms, his stance becoming silently defensive. His whiskey-colored eyes boring into her, not pleading with her like before.

He had apologized for the outburst. He had accepted her explanation to his questions. He said he understood that it was Saren to blame and not either of them. He had thanked her for sharing how she had coped with Elysium. He remained calm, rational, professional. Yet in that moment that was not what she needed.

Maybe she needed someone to feel the way she did. To question her. To not just accept her decision. To acknowledge that she had lost a friend too…

The great Commander Shepard needed more than just the acknowledgement of her subordinates, a pat on the back from her superiors, the thanks of the masses for doing her duty. Rebecca Shepard needed to know that she hadn’t crossed a line. That she hadn’t sacrificed a good soldier, a friend for selfish reasons. That she wasn’t turning into the monster she was supposed to fight.

Her confidence faltering as her Lt.’s eyes continued to bore into her, she began turning away. “I—Forget it, Kaidan. I—I won’t take up anymore of your time.”

The Commander façade she wore for others, for her own sanity sometimes, was fading quickly. She couldn’t let anyone see the cracks, to chance someone seeing what laid beneath. That she was not what everyone thought she was. She couldn’t let Kaidan see that part of her, not when he might actually blame her for Ash’s death.

Maybe she was to blame. Maybe she had been selfish. Maybe there had been a way to save Ash or a way to save them both. If she had only tried harder, if she had been quicker, smarter, more determined—

“Commander?” Alenko’s voice called out to her as she faced the door to her cabin. Was that concern she heard?

It didn’t matter. She was responsible for those under her command, and she’d just lost one more. A friend, and she wasn’t sure if it had been because of her personal relationship with a subordinate.

“I—I should leave you to—I have reports to file—I—”

“Rebecca.”

Her name. Her given name. The utterance of it was like a slap in the face. She wasn’t Rebecca to anyone on the Normandy. She was the Commander or Shepard. Only one person had called her that…

Her head turned of its own volition to the source of the voice. Whiskey brown eyes no longer bored into her. Instead, they studied her with concern and worry. She shook her head. “I can’t.”

She rushed into her quarters without further explanation. As the doors shut behind her, she stood in the middle of her room. The emotions from the Virmire mission breaking through the carefully constructed barriers she had erected. Very few times since becoming an N7 had she had those walls break but this time…This time was different. She was solely in charge of the mission, her own crew, her friends, her enemy. If Saren won, if she allowed the loses Saren inflicted on them to wear her down then it would all be for nothing.

Ash’s death would be for nothing. But did she have to die? Had it been a needed sacrifice? Was it the right choice? Was choosing who lived and died ever a right choice? He was right to blame her. It was all on her. She was the Commander. That’s all she was—

“Rebecca,” an all too familiar voice called from behind her as the doors to her cabin hissed shut.

She closed her eyes. He wasn’t supposed to be there. It was her fault. He blamed her.

“Rebecca, talk to me.”

“No.” How had he gotten in? Had he actually used the door code she’d given him? It would have been the first time then…

“Please talk to me. I’m—”

Shepard turned around, glaring at him. “How can you want to talk to me? I’m responsible for what happened! For what—For what happened to Ash! I—”

“That’s not what you said in the briefing,” Alenko said, taking a step towards her. He stood with his arms spread wide, showing he was not a threat. “You said Saren was to blame.”

“Of course I did!,” she all but screamed. “The bastard is responsible but so am I! I’m the one in command. I made the command decision that killed Ash!”

“The Geth killed Ash not you,” Alenko corrected as he bridged the remaining space between them. “Ashley would not want you to do this to yourself.”

“What does it matter? She’s gone, and she’d not coming back. What difference does it make? Why do you care?”

“Because I care about you! Because you aren’t to blame! Because you aren’t alone!” he said loudly, nearly nose to nose with her.

Shepard didn’t flinch. Instead, she stared blankly at him, saying barely above a whisper, “I’m always alone. I have to be…”

Strong arms suddenly grabbed her and pulled her into a tight embrace. A hand cradled her head as the other rested securely around her waist. A quiet voice murmured into her ear, “You are not alone. Not anymore.”

She wanted to protest, to tell him he was wrong, to order him to leave but no words came out. Instead, she went limp against him, relying totally on his strength for support. Kaidan accepted her dead weight without complaint as she began crying, her sobs muffled by his shoulder.

As Alenko held onto her tighter, he said with raw emotion, “You aren’t to blame. You were right. Saren is responsible. Ash knew what could happen. We all did. She went out the way she wanted to. With honor. Saving those she served with. Saving those she called friend…We didn’t kill her.”

Shepard threw her arms around Alenko as he sunk to the floor with her, both resting on their knees as she shook her head. “I tried…I tried to think of something. Anything. I didn’t want her to die…I—”

“I know, Rebecca. I believe you,” the Lt. soothed as he ran his hand through her red hair. “She trusted you to make the right call and you did. Remember? She said she didn’t regret a thing. You can’t either.”

She pulled at the back of his shirt as she fisted the material. “How can you believe that? I’m the Commander and she died on my watch.”

Kaidan pulled back just enough to see her face. He smiled down at her tenderly. “Because I know that you are more than the Commander. I know that you are human just like the rest of us. And I know you feel her death just like the rest of us.”

“But why—”

“Because I know the woman behind the Commander,” he said gently as he cupped her cheek. “I know Rebecca.”

“Kaidan,” was all the N7 could say as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. He didn’t blame her after all. He understood what she was going through. He didn’t see her as just a soldier or commander or CO. He recognized that she was human too. That she felt the weight of every decision she made and its consequences—good or bad.

“I’m right here, Rebecca,” he soothed as he moved them to sit on the deck plates. “And I’ll stay as long as you need me to.”

She held onto his shirt tightly, refusing to give up her anchor. She knew he would stay. He would always do the right thing, say the right thing, be the good man that he was. He wouldn’t judge her because of the actions of another. He understood both the burden of command and the human emotions beneath.

He understood her.

Drawing strength from Kaidan, she knew nothing could bring Ashely back. At the same time a part of her recognized that the words he had repeated back to her were also true. Neither of them was to blame and if she had made a different decision more people may have perished.

They would do better next time. They would do better for Ash. They would end Saren, and she would make sure the galaxy knew a Williams had made that victory possible. Ashley did not die in vain. She was a hero and a friend.

And for those reasons, Rebecca Shepard would continue to fight the good fight with the continued support of those she had come to call more than comrades in arms. Those that she called friends.

Why me he had asked. But it wasn’t just a question he asked in that the one instance. It was a question she asked herself every day. Even with the knowledge that Kaidan knew the real Shepard and that Ashely both knew and accepted her fate, the question remained.

Why me?

And the answer was always the same.

Because she was the only who could. But this time it would be with the knowledge she had people who believed in her not just because she was bound by duty.

Kaidan believed in her.

Ash had believed in her.

Why me?

Because she wanted to, she had a personal stake in it now. Not just because she could.

Why me?

Because she chose to. To honor those lost. To honor Ash.

[sifeng]

China’s Mary Sue

Growing up in America, I always saw Mary Sues as these perfect, destined type of heroine. So you can imagine my surprise when I went on Chinese social media and found people calling Jiang Xiaoguo, a character from Twenty Your Life On, who is plain in looks, of average talent and who comes from a less than stellar background, a Mary Sue. So, I did some digging and found that apparently in China, besides also meaning perfect angels, Mary Sue can also describe plain, simple girls who are ordinary in every aspect. Nothing sounds wrong with that right? Except, these simple Mary Sues attract the attention of a male lead that is far from ordinary in any aspect (think Meteor Garden or Scarlet Heart). A rant below:

(Remember when I said Yingluo is definitely not a Mary Sue? Well this new type of Mary Sue kind of includes her too! It just goes to show how Chinese netizens are willing to literally hate on any kind of female lead! No matter how different from the norm + unproblematic they are!)

This is an interesting character. There’s nothing wrong with the basic characteristics, as the matter of fact, their basic storyline (minus the romance) makes complete sense. It’s just your average person growing up to become a successful adult. I really don’t see anything wrong with that. I also don’t see anything wrong with their character - after all, isn’t 80% of the world the exact same? The only thing that is annoying with this character is the fact that they attract guys that are far beyond their league. Why? Most people don’t like this because it’s unrealistic, which is definitely true and you can dislike it for that reason, but, I have to ask who is watching a drama to see a realistic relationship? Cdramas (especially romantic ones) thrive off of clichés, and yet those exact people who enjoy them are also the ones who yell “ew a Mary Sue!” 

In America (or the Western World), we dislike Mary Sues because they are annoying, they (when they appear in young adult fiction stories) often act as bad role models for the young people reading them, they can be subconsciously sexist as people who read those stories develop the idea that the “other girls” are so boring or silly or evil and I must be like this bad-ass lady who tears down everyone else. But we do people dislike Mary Sues in China? Because her love stories are unrealistic, because exceptional people like an unexceptional girl. So there’s nothing wrong with her, there is just a lot of hate towards her romance storyline.

A poster for Twenty Your Life On: (from left to right) Duan Jiabao (段家宝), Jiang Xiaoguo (姜小果), Liang Shuang (梁爽), Luo Yan (罗艳)

So yes, I suppose Jiang Xiaoguo is a Mary Sue (she is simple, and two rather exceptional guys like her), but I still don’t really understand whats wrong with this type of Mary Sue. Besides being an overly common trait, I really can’t find anything innately wrong with this setup besides the fact that it will anger thousands of Chinese netizens who feel jealous that though they might be more talented, or better looking, or more pleasant than these Mary Sues, they don’t get the handsome guys like she does. Yes, I suppose Jiang Xiaoguo’s actions and their consequences are a little unrealistic, but she really will put in a lot of effort to get jobs or do good in her job. Perhaps the actions themselves might be impractical but at least the attitude she holds towards life is respectable and young people ought to learn to be courageous and hard working like her. She has more than just “everyone loves her” as a personality trait! 

Pictures from Twenty Your Life On: (from top to bottom), Guan Xiaotong (关晓彤) as Liang Shuang (梁爽), Bu Guanjin (卜冠今) as Jiang Xiaoguo (姜小果), Li Gengxi (李庚希) as Luo Yan (罗艳), Dong Siyi (董思怡) as Duan Jiabao (段家宝)

Everyone seems to hate Jiang Xiaoguo because two guys like her, but they love Liang Shuang (also from Twenty Your Life On)! Liang Shuang is another one of the main characters, and she’s actually a really cool character. She’s super confident (to a kind of amazing level really), and really selfish. I think it’s really interesting that a female lead has this type of personality, and I actually quite like her, but that doesn’t make her a better person than Jiang Xiaoguo. Liang Shuang has some really big problems (not to say Xiaoguo doesn’t - because she does - but they aren’t really huge problems that could hurt the people around her). When she and Luo Yan (another main character) are on the bus together, Luo Yan is harassed, and Liang Shuang steps in and records the entire thing on her phone (because she had been taking selfies before). She then posts the video on social media because she wants to raise awareness, however, in the video Luo Yan pushes her. It is revealed that Luo Yan only pushed her because the creepy guy tried to attack Liang Shuang, but of course that’s not in the video. So the other two friends (Xiaoguo and Duan Jiabao) try to convince Liang Shuang to take the video offline because Luo Yan is getting majorly cyberbullies for something that is definitely not her fault. Liang Shuang refuses because her video has gone viral and she’s getting a lot of followers. Also, once when faced with a product she was offered to advertise, but that could be harmful to the skin, she tricked other girls in the dormitory to use it and watched the results. And why? Because she’s way too pretty to possibly get harmed by this mask, but everyone else can suffer because they're ugly ducklings in comparison. So people like this character because she’s different, and they are totally willing to forgive her for all of these (rather cruel) actions. But when faced with Jiang Xiaoguo, a Mary Sue, they will hate on her for breathing. She can help Liang Shuang deal with a cheating boyfriend, and support her friends when they are down, and yet - she’s the annoying one?

Besides, I feel like, if these male leads have a reason to like her (a valid reason not some stupid one like - oh she’s not like the other girls). Then I don’t have a problem at all! I just want well-written romance storylines that aren’t toxic, I really don’t require this completely new and innovative relationship. Besides, realistic relationships are way too boring to be shown on television, for example, in Twenty Your Life On, Luo Yan’s main pairing is her friend who studies for graduate school with her. He is really nice, but just kind of boring. I don’t really feel interested in watching their romance develop because 1. there isn’t that much chemistry and 2. it’s just so boring. (Nothing against either or them, since I love Teresa Li and I quite liked the guy in My Huckleberry Friends). I am even more annoyed that people are really hating on the actress because Jiang Xiaoguo takes up screen time. I tried to watch an iQiyi sneak peek and literally half (if not three-fourths) of the comments were just hating on her and her actress. It’s absolutely disgusting, especially given that this show has just started and has only gone one-fourth of the way through. 

This was just a rant about how annoying Chinese netizens can be towards female characters, even when it’s unwarranted. If they were complaining about how she has too much screen time, perhaps I could agree, but they are just insulting her solely because two talented and handsome guys like her. That is just so wrong on so many levels. (Now this is solely a theory and it’s most likely wrong but... could it be that people are actually jealous? I see so many comments literally hating on Xiaoguo’s appearance, her actress’s voice, even her actress’s acting ability - which is actually really good - and yet no one hates on anyone else in this show. I really don’t understand. I really like her character actually, especially in the first episode).

I’m actually kind of sad. This show is so good, it deals with some very interesting topics and features conversations that are quite meaningful. And yet, all the fans care about are who gets the most screen time or oh my god this girl is so annoying because guys like her. They're missing the main point!

[sign-from-god-complex]

cuddles and catnaps

Summary: Logan was absolutely exhausted. Thankfully, Roman’s there to help.

Pairing: Platonic logince 

Warnings: Brief description of emotional numbness, very non-serious mention of hypothetical murder and lots of sleep-deprivation/insomnia-related things.

A/N: I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to write the logince conversation I wish they’d have in canon. Just let my boys get along!!! It’s what they deserve.

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

It was a quiet night, and Logan was awake.

This wasn't uncommon necessarily—rest did not always come easily to the logical side and it had been a particularly busy week—but it was frustrating nonetheless. He'd tried to relax, tried breathing techniques and distractions and anything else he could think of but it was no use; Logan simply couldn't sleep.

It had been a problem for the past few nights, in fact. Logan's mind wouldn't stop whirring with all the potential outcomes or solutions to the most recent dilemma Thomas was having and he was unable to untangle his thoughts from it.

He thought that he managed to get an hour or so of sleep last night but honestly he couldn't say for sure; things were beginning to blend together slightly.

As the clock hit 3 am, Logan decided to give up trying. He recalled hearing about how merely pretending to sleep makes you feel more rested than if you were to get up and stay awake but, quite honestly, if Logan had to lay here one more minute he felt he may figuratively explode.

Slipping out from under the sheets, he walked over to open the door and head down to the commons, hoping that if he generated a change in scenery it might prompt his body to allow him at least a nap. Best-case scenario, he would manage to fall asleep on the couch while watching a documentary.

He crept down the hallway as quietly as possible, noting the absence of light from under the doors of his fellow sides. It was common for them to be in bed at this time—provided Thomas was as well—but it also wasn't unheard of for them to be a little too worked up to get to sleep, much as Logan was right now. It seemed, however, that the others were asleep, which simultaneously comforted and distressed him.

It was obviously beneficial for the other three to be getting optimal sleep and rest. Not only was it better for them but it was better for Thomas as well—things tended to go awry when any one side was particularly sleep-deprived. 

Roman's reaction to lack of sleep was actually quite typical. You could tell Roman hadn't been sleeping well simply because he seemed tired. Not sleepy, that was vastly different. No, Roman tended to look exhausted, trailing around and reacting sluggishly to any input from the other sides. His usual vigour and bounce were missing, replaced with mostly blank looks and absent stares.

It was actually the easiest of the four's behaviours to recognise and the other sides always rushed to get him to bed when they picked up on it. They could always afford a day off for Roman's health.

Plus, of course, Thomas's productivity greatly suffered when Roman wasn't at his best. Without Thomas's creativity, videos were extremely difficult if not impossible to complete, with any attempted acting being subpar and any attempted writing being worse than that. That's not even to mention the kind of slump Thomas fell into when Roman became particularly exhausted; it was upsetting to witness their host look so dejected and quiet. Truly, taking a day off was always the best course of action.

Virgil's response to sleep deprivation was mostly avoidance. He tended to put as much distance between himself and the other three as was possible, and luckily enough, the three of them had quickly learnt to spot it.

Getting Virgil to sleep was actually vastly more difficult than Roman. Roman generally whined slightly but was really too exhausted to protest all that much; Virgil, however, got angry when he was tired. His jabs were never taken personally past the first time it occurred—the others understood that Virgil's lashing out was not out of malice but more out of frustration and a feeling of being overwhelmed—though it was still jarring. Virgil was usually angry for them more so than at them nowadays but with exhaustion he became terse, snapping at anyone who dared to lend a helping hand.

Though it took slightly more effort, they usually got through the facade pretty quickly, watching Virgil just entirely deflate and forcibly cuddling him to sleep.

And when Virgil was tired and angry and distant, Thomas was a wreck. Thomas dealt with his emotions far better than Virgil did but that didn't mean he didn't feel them. When Virgil was like this, all the little things that Thomas could normally deal with managed to get to him—sharp noises and abrupt motions causing him to flinch and glare and any small inconvenience suddenly becoming the indicator of a horrible day. Thomas's optimism tended to fly right out the window when Virgil hadn't slept and it was troublesome, to say the least.

Patton became considerably stressed when he was tired. It was something that seemed to tie in quite closely to his general need to bottle up his feelings. Instead of dealing with his insomnia, Patton would stress clean, would obsess over every tiny detail and was just not capable of turning off for even a second. It wasn't uncommon on days like that to see Patton puttering around the mindscape, fixing things that didn't need fixing and straightening things that didn't need straightening—picking at every perceived flaw he came across.

Getting Patton to bed was potentially the hardest. He was always so worked up, so tense and so fixated that it was like dragging Logan away in the middle of hyperfocusing. Patton wouldn't fight them the way Virgil did but he just wouldn't take a single breath and it would take several hours of calming distractions and soft blankets to get him to drift away.

Thomas did not tend to be productive on those days. When Patton was as consumed by his thoughts as he was, Thomas couldn't concentrate in the slightest, instead, he tended to opt for rewatching old episodes of his favourite TV shows and steadily ignoring his growing piles of responsibilities with some form of detached concern. He knows he should be worried but quite honestly, he couldn't bring himself to feel much at all besides numb.

Patton would always apologise over and over in the wake of the incident but Thomas was always very kind in his responses, citing that it was probably time he took a rest day anyway.

Logan wasn't exactly sure what his own reaction was to being sleep deprived, not the way he was aware of the other sides. It wasn't something he'd had to pay all that much attention to, considering with the others he was always needed to help resolve the situation, however, with himself he clearly was not. There was one thing Logan was sure of, though.

Lack of sleep made Logan stupid.

It wasn't necessarily the nicest way to put it but he would be lying if he said he didn't think it was accurate. 

When Logan was tired, he made mistakes—stupid mistakes, mistakes he couldn't really afford to make. They didn't always have real-world consequences, such as accidentally spreading Crofters onto his cell phone instead of his toast, but sometimes they did. Sometimes Logan calculated the risks incorrectly or gave Thomas faulty information and the guilt ate him up inside every single time. It wasn't as if he was doing it maliciously but that wasn't the point, the point was that Logan should be more careful. Exhaustion just made it harder for him to do that.

And one of the kinds of frivolous mistakes Logan tended to make in his fatigue was with his emotions.

Logan kept his emotions largely under lock and key, however, when he becomes tired they tend to get the best of him, generally presenting itself in some unwarranted and entirely uncalled for tears. His crying could be due to anything—it could be due to a change in schedule or a misplaced document or even a lack of milk—or it could be due to absolutely nothing at all. Logan hated it. He hated feeling out of control and he hated the pitying looks he received from the other sides as they tried to comfort him and make him sleep.

Because another mistake Logan made with his emotions when he was tired was his want for physical affection.

Logan was willing to indulge in physical contact for the sake of the other sides—for example, if Patton was sad and required a hug or to help Virgil stay calm and relaxed as he tried to get some sleep—but Logan did not need those things himself. He found them to be largely unnecessary and marginally uncomfortable—though he wouldn't tell the others that because he's still willing to suffer through it for their sakes.

Sleep-deprived Logan, however, never seemed to get the memo.

When Logan reached a certain point of exhaustion, he found himself craving the warmth of the other sides. Wanting soft hands threading through his hair and limbs tangled in with his, wanting to feel limitless and infinite in the darkness and yet so small in relation to the vast expanse of the universe. He wanted to go somewhere in the imagination where they could see the stars, to feel the wind brushing past his skin but feeling secure in the knowledge that he was safe and warm and loved wrapped up in the others’ arms.

Fatigue also made him maudlin, though he would not for the life of him admit it.

Logan descended the stairs, wincing somewhat as one of the steps creaked under his foot and pausing for a moment, waiting to receive confirmation that he hadn't awoken any of the other sides. Hearing nothing, Logan continued his journey, settling onto the living room floor with a quiet exhale. He glanced in the direction of the couches and hesitated as he noticed a glow coming from the television. Though the brightness was turned down quite considerably, the TV was unmistakably on.

Knowing that he was the last person to leave the commons that evening lead Logan to the conclusion that he was incorrect in his assumption that the other sides were all asleep in their rooms. All he could see on the couch, however, was a pile of blankets and cushions.

Possibly he had just forgotten to turn the TV off after he left. Or, maybe, one of the others had come down at some point during the evening before once again retiring to their rooms, and they had forgotten to turn it off. He had to admit that it didn't seem likely that he had left the TV on, though given his current state it may not be entirely out of the realm of possibility.

Logan took a seat next to the pile of blankets on the couch and after grabbing the remote from in between the couch cushions, changed the channel over to the Discovery Channel and turned the volume down low. It seemed to be some documentary on symbiotic animal relationships or something to that extent, and while Logan would normally be interested he was quite honestly too tired to really follow along.

There were a few minutes of Logan attempting to parse the images on the screen before he decided that a blanket would likely be conducive to falling asleep. He went to grab one off of the top of the pile—the red knitted one Roman tended to prefer. In this action, however, he uncovered a body.

And Logan, still too tired to process anything useful, fell off the couch.

His immediate assumption was that Virgil had murdered someone and tried to hide the body under every blanket and cushion he could find in the house. He quickly—though not as quickly as he would have liked—dismissed this as a nonsensical thought. Virgil was far too anxious to kill anyone. He entertained the idea of Roman having killed someone for a slightly longer moment before also rejecting the idea. Roman had morals, or something to that extent anyway, even if he was far more likely to think that hiding a body under a mound of blankets was a good strategy.

Finally, Logan realised that he’d been sitting on the floor for approximately 3 whole minutes and getting up to take a look at the body on the couch may be the most reasonable course of action. He shook his head with a sigh. He really was off today.

Rising to his feet, Logan peered at the figure on the couch. Though the person was primarily obscured by the mountain of blankets, he could see a glimpse of red and gold pyjama pants. They looked startlingly similar to Roman’s pair—a Christmas present from Patton that had since become his go-to—thus, Logan concluded either this person was dressed up in Roman’s clothes or it was Roman and he was inclined to believe the latter.

Logan removed a few more blankets from the pile in an attempt to validate his assumption and was greeted by brown hair, closed eyes and a soft expression. It was, indeed, Roman.

Now, Logan had a decision to make. Either he could turn the TV off, leave Roman to sleep and head back to his room where he would remain alone until the other sides woke up for breakfast…

Or he could wake Roman up.

He knew the desire was selfish but with Roman looking as peaceful as he was he couldn’t help but wish to join him in his cocoon. It looked so warm and Logan was so, so tired. 

He only really considered it for a moment before giving in. With enough sacrificed Crofter’s and endured teasing, Roman would forgive him, and he was too exhausted to have any sense of self-control.

Logan placed his hand on Roman’s shoulder, rocking him back and forth in an attempt to wake him up without jarring him too much. As he was pulled from sleep, Roman made a sound similar to those "startup noises" that cats make when you first touch them, blinking open his eyes. Something about it was strangely endearing and Logan tried to ignore the way he felt his chest warm at the sight.

“Lo?” Roman mumbled, rubbing at his eyes sleepily, “What’re you doin’ up?”

“I was… unable to sleep.”

Logan shuffled his feet awkwardly, feeling a sense of embarrassment rush through him. Dear lord, this was utterly pathetic. What was he thinking? He had absolutely no need to awaken Roman, just because his skin felt so cold and he was so, so tired and he only wanted to be held and warm and loved- 

Ridiculous. He was being ridiculous. Roman, at most, tolerated his presence and Logan was firmly overstepping his boundaries here.

Roman stared blankly for a few seconds. “Oh…”

“I apologise for waking you, Roman,” Logan said, attempting to rectify his obvious mistake, “I should go back to my room now.”

He made a motion to turn back towards the stairs, trying to fight the disappointment in his chest and the craving for warmth that was still gnawing at him but was interrupted by Roman putting out a hand to stop him. Roman shook his head a few times, blinking quickly as he tried to wake himself up a little bit more. 

“No, no, wait. What is it?”

“I was just…” Logan cleared his throat, trying to steel himself for Roman’s possible reaction. “I was wondering if I could…”

He trailed off, gesturing vaguely to the mountain of blankets Roman was still encompassed in. Roman’s face broke into a small smile and he reached out to grab Logan’s hand, tugging it gently, just enough to prompt him to take a step forward.

“C’mere, nerd.” Roman’s voice was incredibly fond and Logan was slightly worried that he may start crying just from the sound of it.

Ducking his head, Logan climbed onto the couch near Roman, trying not to startle as Roman grabbed his arm and pulled him into the blankets beside him.

The blanket pile was incredibly warm and soft. Almost the second Logan landed, he could feel his heart rate decreasing—already infinitely calmer than he had been upstairs. He closed his eyes as he felt Roman wrap his arms around him, tears leaking out the corners of them without his permission.

Gods, this was so much better than being alone.

He could feel Roman pressed against him, warmth sinking to his core and melting away all of the stress and tension his body had been holding onto. A hand had sunk into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp and giving him a pleasant sensation to focus on to calm his thoughts. He pressed in closer to Roman, burying his head in the crook of his neck as his body betrayed him and he just started to sob.

He hated this—he hated it because it was never his choice, just a constant build-up of emotions that expanded in his chest until it burst—but Roman felt safe. So maybe, just once, it was okay.

There was gentle shushing, whispered affirmations as Roman held Logan’s shaking frame as tight as he could and ran his hands lightly along his skin. He didn’t know how long they remained there—whether it was 5 minutes or an hour—but once Logan was able to catch his breath he choked out an apology. An apology that was quickly brushed off.

“You have nothing to apologise for, Lo,” Roman insisted, carding his hand through Logan’s hair and watching the other lean into it, “I want to help you. I know I haven’t always been… the best, when it comes to dealing with you but… I just need you to know that though I may argue with Logic, that doesn’t mean I’m arguing with Logan.”

Logan untucked his head from Roman’s shoulder, bringing his gaze up to give him a confused look.

“We are the same person, Roman.”

Roman screwed up his face for a moment. “No, no, I mean… just because we argue doesn’t mean that I don’t care about you, you know? We, by definition, are always going to have differing opinions but even though I'm bad at admitting it, I do recognise your things are important too. I’m just stubborn. And despite our disagreements, I do enjoy having you around, Logan.”

“Oh.” 

Logan blinked, processing that for a moment.

It wasn’t as if he’d thought Roman hated him; he didn’t believe any of the sides truly hated each other (except potentially Virgil and Deceit, though even that, he theorised, was born from a place of caring too much). Simply, Logan had felt as if Roman put up with him mostly out of necessity. As Roman had stated, Logic was crucial—despite how little he liked to admit it—and, of course, it would be unwise to disregard Logan completely. Roman’s admission was certainly… unexpected.

“Well… you too, Roman,” Logan replied softly.

Roman’s eyebrows shot up, face vulnerable and uncertain. “Really?”

“Of course.”

There was something about being here—enclosed in Roman’s arms so late in the night, the only illumination of their forms coming from the TV behind him, the air almost silent—that made Logan feel as if the consequences of being open may not be as bad as he feared.

So, instead of ending his statement there, Logan pushed on.

“I don’t… understand a lot of the things you consider to be important. I don’t understand fantasy or metaphors or how to please people. If I was left in sole control of writing the scripts for Thomas’s content, though the final product would be educational and factually accurate, it would be… boring. I am boring, I know this. I just… I don’t appreciate having to rely on other people—and I don’t like not understanding things—and more often than not, I take that frustration out on you. That is unfair of me.”

Roman chuckled, low and quiet, and it felt like an acknowledgement of all the mistakes they’d made and all of the mistakes they would no doubt continue to make. “I suppose we both have things to work on, then.”

In response, Logan simply hummed. He felt drowsy and content, reassured that despite what he may have thought, everything between them was okay. They lay there for a while more, Logan teetering on the edge of unconsciousness before Roman spoke again, breaking the silence between them.

“You aren’t boring though, you know that, right?”

Logan made a questioning sound, not even bothering to open his eyes.

“I mean, you get so excited about space that you wave your hands around as you explain things and you have such strong opinions about the smallest of things and you’re stubborn and quick-tempered and absolutely brilliant.” At that declaration, Logan did open his eyes, seeing Roman looking down at him with a shy smile on his face. “You could never be boring, Logan. Not really.”

“Thank you.” It was a whispered response, tired and grateful, but Roman heard it nonetheless.

Logan moved a hand up in front of his face to stifle a yawn and he saw Roman grin, drawing Logan closer into his chest. “Sleep now, nerd. You can talk about how much you love and adore me in the morning.”

“You are incorrigible,” Logan replied but his tone was teasing rather than cruel.

In response, Roman gave a breathy laugh. Evidently, he decided it wasn’t worth it to argue, instead, reaching to grab one of the blankets and tugging it over their bodies. He clicked off the TV, tossing the remote onto the couch away from them.

“Goodnight, Lo,” Roman said, voice barely more than an exhale. 

Logan mumbled a vague response, feeling himself relax completely once again, his eyes falling shut and breathing steadying out. Rather than circling, planning and plotting a hundred different scenarios for tomorrow or solutions to problems that don’t even exist yet, Logan’s thoughts were quiet. All of his focus was on the heat of Roman’s body and the darkness covering them both like a blanket.

And, after just a few short moments—Logan feeling safe and warm, wrapped up in Roman’s arms—Logan finally fell asleep.

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

Taglist: @mutechild @super-magical-wizard @shadowsfromthesun @teadays @sandersships @mctaetae613 @autism-goblin @deadlyhuggles6 @romanthestarstruckqueer @whispers-stuff-in-your-ear @rainboots-are-for-snobs @sanders-and-sides @spirits-in-my-thoughts @kee-and-co @autistic-virgil @stop-it-anxiety @figurative-falsehood @jadedfantasies231 @idosanderssidespromptssometimes @poisonedapples @sanders-screams 

[raleighliving]

Snowmageddon: A Defense

If you’ve lived in the south during the winter months at any point you’ve probably heard all the jokes and jabs already about how well we tend to handle snow. At the first flake falling, you’ll hear cries of “Shut down the schools” and “Buy bread and milk NOW!” from everyone; northern transplants especially.

Southerners panic at even the hint of snow, clearing store shelves to hoard a years’ worth of groceries and filling jerry cans with enough fuel to cross the Atlantic because the news predicted a half inch dusting overnight. It’s not as prolific or hurtful as other stereotypes but if you’ve grown up hearing it you’re probably tired of the same five jokes like I am.

Not to say it’s completely unwarranted. I’m sure you’ve gone to the grocery store during a particularly cold night and seen gaps in the inventory of various necessities, and fellow North Carolinians forming lines at the gas station to top off before the snow hits.

Even if you’re not from North Carolina, you’ve probably seen the below image of our very own Glenwood avenue from a few years back. Meme’d to hell and back with various edits including references to Star Wars, Ghostbusters, and various post-apocalyptic scenarios.  

Glenwood Ave, credit WRAL

So of course, a question I’ve been asked rhetorically from friends across the country is “why?” With a recent snow day passed and another possibly on the horizon, I figured now would be as good a time as any to write about what Raleigh’s deal with snow is and why so many of us dread the icy doom it brings.

Not to say this article excuses the Glenwood Incident or any over obsessive individuals you may run into throughout Raleigh; but instead, I hope to at least provide an explanation for why things are like this. Provide insight for school closures and concerns so that my fellow Raleigh citizenry might seem at least a little less crazy the next time the sky goes gray on a cold Winter’s day.

To understand the issues with Raleigh and snow we need to understand two important aspects of the problem: city maintenance and city planning. While there are many small issues that pervade North Carolina, and especially the city of Raleigh, these two form the crux of our problem.

As you can imagine, any city’s road conditions are linked at least partially to their Department of Transportation’s (DOT) budget. Repairs, litter control, and much more are all accounted for in the state DOT budget; and while North Carolina might not be as small as her neighbors like Georgia she still has to budget accordingly.

How much money is spent on inclement weather for a state that might see snow once every two years is weighed against contracts for road repairs, the much more frequent summer/fall tropical storms, and other projects that need it more.  

Of the $5.3 billion 2020 budget, it’s estimated by the NCDOT that we spent 32% of that on road maintenance (and a fraction of that goes towards inclement weather solutions). So a fraction of a fraction of the budget goes towards preparing the roads with brine and equipping plows with a salt/sand traction mix.

Of course, this means we only have so many snow plows and so much brine to spread around the roads.  If you get any pre-snow road treatment, you’re likely in more urban areas like Raleigh or you’re by a military base like Fayetteville. Even in those areas, however, pre-snow road treatment and subsequent plowing are usually only afforded to major roads and high traffic areas.

Live in a subdivision or a back road? Then may fortune be ever in your favor, because there’s a good chance that the most you’ll get is somebody laying out InstaMelt from the HOA (if you even get that much). There’s a chance you could drive on Leesville or Glenwood if you can get to them, but that’s IF you can get to them.

The neighborhood where I grew up you couldn’t get out if there was too much snow/ice because all three exits sat atop fairly steep grade hills. Don’t have a heavy enough vehicle or specialized tires? You’re probably going to slide back down or get stuck in a snow drift.

Of course, that’s just my old stomping grounds. But Raleigh is full of various neighborhoods; ranging from cookie cutter suburbs to nightmare hellscapes crafted with form over function kept firmly in mind.  For every Longlake or Dominion Park, there’s a road like Sendero Road.

Sendero is a back road attached to a back road with narrow, one-way roads twisting around steep gorges filled with trees and water at various points. The upper-middle class neighborhood is cut in half by a river with an old wooden bridge, and the only reliable turn around point is at the very end of this anxiety coaster.

For schools you have the school buses, which break down super frequently already, with no seat belts transporting kids across the city to school and parents trying to get out of their neighborhoods and dealing with other drivers.  

If something gets damaged or someone gets hurt or stranded, all because you had the option to close down but didn’t, then that’s consequences and problems laid at the foot of the school board and superintendent. Parent complaints, insurance rates, and potential lawsuits versus a few days of missed education and a few jokes on twitter; it’s easy to see which bet anyone would take when the sky starts spewing ice crystals.

It’s true, not every neighborhood in Raleigh (and many other southern cities) is a poorly designed nest of streets placed at random using dice; but enough exist throughout that it’s an important consideration for many schools, businesses, and families when they’re preparing for possible winter storms.  

Do we shut down schools, or hope the weatherman is right and that the light dusting clears by midday? Do we go and stock up on supplies in case the freezer goes out, or hope that the 2005 ice storm just doesn’t happen ever again? It’s these questions, and previous experiences like the 2005 ice storm that fuel a lot of the paranoia that happens surrounding snow storms.

I don’t expect to change any minds writing this, but hopefully you’ll at least come away with a better understanding of southern snowphobia when you see schools start closing left and right at the first flake, or when you see someone load their cart up with bread and milk.  

PS:  Apparently, it’s always bread and milk because bread provides energy, nutrition, and doesn’t need to be refrigerated; and milk because you can keep it fresh with snow/outdoor coolers if your fridge dies.

[theoestofocs]

thinking about jurgen leitner again

Leitner, who thinks he’s safe, thinks he’s exempt from the rules of horror that govern the world--because why wouldn’t he be? He’s never been subject to them before. He’s a rich white man who’s never needed to work for a living. He’s never had to do anything but watch as his employees, his assistants, do all the lethal work for him, as he cycles through them like matchsticks and they each face death or worse for his little hobby. He didn’t care about them. He thought he was safe, and he had his little collection, and could pretend he was a hero for hoarding them, like Marie Antoinette with her peasant village, all the quaint self-congratulation and none of the fear.

It never occurred to him that his actions had consequences. And what gets me is that they weren’t even the moral consequences, no vengeful relatives of the people he killed in his quest to build the perfect cursed library, no ghost of angry assistants past that came back to haunt their killer. No, it was just the ordinary, aimless destruction that comes for anyone who brushes too close to the entities. Leitner never faced the consequences of his actions, not really. He stole the bones of other people to play some poker with, and all that happened was that he lost the game.

At least we know that Gerry got to beat him up (though the goth himself never knew. He died--and died again--thinking he’d attacked an old man for no reason. There’s no satisfaction in that; just more seemingly-random violence, more unwarranted guilt.)

because really aren’t all the characters in tma just trying to cope with the fact that they’re living in a tragedy? it’s not like they don’t know the genre of their own stories. Not at first, maybe, but they catch on real quick. And for most of them, we watch that change happen.

Tim says “the only thing you need to have your life destroyed by this stuff is just bad luck,” and he isn’t wrong. That’s all it is, that’s all any of this is--bad luck for everyone, except a total of maybe three characters. Three people we know of that made it through the end of the world unscathed. Two, really, because I don’t count Annabelle as a survivor, but the Web has shown enough “subtle manipulation” that I’ll count it as an honorary person, at least for now.

Elias, sat up in his tower, is presumably the winner of the apocalypse, though I’d be willing to guess it isn’t as lovely as he expected. Can’t say much about how his story ends, not yet; but over his long, horrible life, there’s no indication that he ever fell victim to the same awful fates he causes for everyone else. And there is, I suppose, a sort of idea that you can protect yourself from suffering by making others suffer first. Jordan Kennedy, Jude Perry, Jon himself; it is, quite literally, a situation of “eat or be eaten.” But--but I’ve said it before in other posts, none of the Avatars are really anything but tragedies themselves. They’re all victims too, same as everyone else. Except for a very, very few. Jonah Magnus, for instance, chose this.

I think so, at least. Perhaps not. But if he did, that’s what sets him apart from everyone else; Jonah chose to cause suffering, because he preferred to end the world than face the single simple truth of his own inevitable end.

And from the moment he made that choice, two hundred years ago, no one else has ever gotten another chance to choose.

I wonder if that’s on purpose. I wonder, is The Magnus Archives meant to be about the fundamental nature of the world? Is the implication of Tim’s statement really that everything is fundamentally cruel and utterly random, and we are all equally subject to the whims of chance? Or is there something else?

Because we know from the manifold clues in-canon that the Web was the one who really orchestrated Jonah’s ritual. From the spider that made Jon cave in the office wall and trigger Jane Prentiss’ attack, to the lighter that started him smoking again and got him out of the office just long enough for Leitner to die, to the table that killed Sasha, to the house on Hill Top Road, to the very first mark Jon received before he even made it through his first decade--it was all the Web. Elias really just set the Mother’s provided victim off on his course as Archivist and let everything else fall where it may. The Web was the one that kept him alive, made sure he had just the right assistants to hurt and be hurt by when he could have been helped the most, and carefully, thoroughly marked him by every entity, from the NotThem to the End.

Maybe Jonah did make a choice. But if he did, it was the last real choice anyone was ever permitted to make. Because there are things that will use every fear and doubt and despair we have, and feed on them until we’re either monsters or we’re dead. And when there’s something so much more powerful than us which sees a puppet it can use to bring itself through, make itself king--what chance do we have to fight it?

(Could it have been Robert Smirke that first gave the Web the idea for a ritual Jonah would put into practice a full two hundred years later? All this time, was Jon the Mother’s puppet, or was it Jonah, after all?)

Either way, the point remains that we are so much less powerful than the forces controlling our every choice, compelling us to compromise and sacrifice until there’s nothing of ourselves left to give. They grind us down to dust, and use the gristle of our flesh to fuel the nameless machine. 

(Jonny did say this story was meant for nine-to-five office workers, didn’t he?)

And so Jurgen is finally confronted with something stronger than himself, and all his hideous weakness is exposed for the world to see. So Jon spends so much time looking over his shoulder that he walks right through the door of Fear itself, never even noticing until it’s far too late. So Tim gives up on the only friend he could still trust to have his own face, furious and heartbroken and letting his last hope shatter as surely as Carlos Vittery’s teacup, marked as it was with the smear of a spider.

There’s really only one character in the entire podcast who has simply never accepted the fact that his life is a tragedy.

It’s not that he doesn’t realize how bad it is. He’s faced as much suffering as everyone else. It’s not that he doesn’t care about everyone who’s died, everything that’s been done to him, every piece of himself he’s lost. He just... refuses to let it make him stop caring.

Georgie sets boundaries, and Melanie forces the universe to let her find a way out. Both of them recognize the fact that no matter what choice they make, there’s a price to pay; so they make the choices that will cost them less. Really, they’re the only two characters that consistently follow the directions you’d typically be yelling at horror movie characters. Georgie would never open that door. (Jon did.)

Tim offered himself up as cannon fodder, Basira set her laser focus solely on survival, Daisy fought tooth and nail against everything (including her own teeth and claws), and Jon searched for answers that were dangled in front of him like a carrot on a stick, but Martin... Martin just cared.

And everyone thought that made him stupid. Not just Jon, though we (rightly) lambaste him for it; everyone did. It was taken as a given. Martin made tea, and gave good hugs, and never really understood what was going on. That was just Martin.

Pictured above is a screenshot of TMA 110, when Basira just comes out and says what everyone else has intimated and assumed in a thousand different phrases up to now. “I know you care. I know you do. But caring isn’t enough. You can’t just stand next to someone with a cup of tea and hope everything’s gonna be all right.”

And Martin’s right, that isn’t fair. She doesn’t know him. Nobody does, and it’s not because Martin hides himself; they just can’t believe he could possibly be the face he shows to the world.

But it is his face. Martin has, quite literally, looked in the face of fear itself five times I can think of off the top of my head, all long before season 5. He got trapped in his apartment and Michael’s hallways and the Lonely, and lost first one friend, then two more, then his only living family and everything else all at once. He was forced to understand exactly how and why his mother hated him, and always had, and always would. He is intimately familiar with the fact that the guy he’s in love with is a grumpy rat man who also happens to be a monster that feeds on trauma. Martin isn’t naive. He just acts like it.

Georgie sets boundaries, and she’s right to, but Martin refuses to accept what she cannot ignore: that sometimes, trying to help will just get you hurt. “Sometimes helping people hurts,” he tells her, and it’s a cruel thing to say, really, but he says it anyway because he cares too much to care about if it hurts. Martin looks at a world that is quite literally a hellscape of apocalyptic suffering, and asks if Jon wants to go for a walk. He lets himself fall into the Lonely because he refuses to stand by and let the inevitable tragedy and horror of their lives change him. He refuses to stop being kind--not just nice, not just as kind as it’s safe to be. To Martin, the common-sense decision in any situation is to choose kindness over safety. To help someone, because his life is not more important to him than theirs.

It’s not a wise way of living, to be sure.To be clear, I don’t recommend it, either.  That’s how you get a martyr complex, and anxiety and depression, and if you’re inclined to try it anyway, I’d like to point out that all three of the above rather interfere with your ability to effectively help out other people. Anyway, maybe this whole deal is why Jon and Martin make such a comfortable match--they both have different flavours of self-sacrificing tendencies.

It’s not wise, and it’s not advisable, and it’s not a good way of living; but it’s not a stupid way of living, either. It’s reckless and dangerous and, speaking from experience, not something that’s possible to keep up forever, no matter how hard you grit your teeth and make yourself keep going. But it’s also not an approach that happens accidentally.

Martin would rather die than stand by and do nothing while others get hurt, and he refuses to assume that people getting hurt is inevitable. He’s patently wrong about the preventability of suffering, and he knows that, but unlike everyone else in the podcast, he refuses to accept it. As long as there’s a chance that him doing something can help someone else, he’ll do it. No matter what it costs.

Sometimes there’s nothing you can do to save a ruined world.

Sometimes, you keep fighting anyway.

[bbq-hawks-wings]

So I've read a lot of fics in which Hawks either decides to or not to tell his s/o about his life as a double agent. Honestly though I don't really think he'd do that. I feel like if anything he'd try extremely hard to hide it and keep the as far away from that as possible. Maybe even end the relationship for their safety. But that's just my opinion. What do you think Hawks would do though? Would he be honest and tell the truth or would he continue to go behind his s/o back and lie?

Ah! A good ol’ fashioned Let’s Talk Hawks type of ask, and a good one, too! Thanks, anon.

Simply put, I think you hit the nail on the head. Hawks would dodge and evade and even lie for as long as possible and let the relationship die if necessary. If anyone is familiar with undercover work, you may know that in a long-term sting like the one he’s pulling off agents will disappear from their family’s lives and basically fall off the map. This is partially to build up and keep a believable persona, but it also doubles as a safety measure for their family. He doesn’t have this luxury because part of his “lure” for the League is that he’s a trusted hero insider, so the rest of his life has to go on as normal to avoid suspicion but that potentially opens up anything in his personal life to the villains if they found out.

I’m about to get long here, but basically one of the things that’s really hooked me as an adult to this series about super-powered teenagers is that actions have consequences, and if you mess up people can actually die. Not just collateral, Marvel-type, in the peripheral kind of way; but teammates can die, family can become estranged, civilians come back to sue for their loved ones’ loss and end your career, grieving family come back for revenge - maybe even years later, and so on.

And the chivalrous “women, children, and innocents are off limits” principle does NOT apply to most serious villain’s philosophy. If they can do a backhanded, dirty move to get under the hero’s skin, they will. They don’t care who gets hurt or who dies as long as they get what they want.

I’m genuinely excited for anime-only’s catching up with season 4, because this is the point in the series where all of what I just said becomes very, very, very real. You don’t get take-backsies, no restarts, no reversals, just game over. If you barely make it out of a battle, you will have the scars to prove it for the rest of your life. As you fight and injure yourself to win, you will eventually lose the ability to fight at all. Tiny, innocent children can and will and are used by evil people for their own purposes because they can, no matter the lasting damage they do. 

Not too long ago I wrote a story about Hawks’ s/o finding out about his connection with the League, and I genuinely think it’s the only circumstance in which he would outright tell her the truth - maybe not everything, but the truth nonetheless. it would take her branching out on her own, getting noticed, having him informed, and then confronting him about it. If she just found out and wasn’t caught, he would still lie. Only in a situation where he has to make clear to her that she’s in actual, life-threatening danger would he admit what’s going on even in part; and even then he would have to tell her to keep going as if nothing happened (even a sudden, unwarranted breakup could raise eyebrows) and keep glancing over his shoulder for as long as it takes to get through it. Just *knowing* that there’s someone who knows that wasn’t in the original deal is enough to warrant threats and displays of resolve when that kind of information is *that* top-secret.

Thanks for asking the question, anon! It’s nice to get a change of pace from my prompts, but back to ‘em again. I didn’t get to any yesterday and already have 30 in my drafts/inbox to crank out, but I’ll try to make sure everyone has at least a few different characters to read over Thanksgiving in case you need a change of tone from your circumstances. ( I see you, folks.)

[victoodles]

The Look

I had a lot of fun writing this and now I’m addicted to writing for Chief Hopper. I also really like music from the 80′s and while that isn’t a focal point, it still was cute to imagine a scenario jamming out to Roxette with my main man. Just some fun nonsense, enjoy!

“I’m an officer in training, though I guess that’s just a fancy way of sayin’ I’m your new assistant for the time being. Regardless, it’s a pleasure to meetcha’!”

Jim Hopper is momentarily taken aback by your overly sunny disposition, finding it too bright and warm for the given situation. It’s Monday, approximately eight in the morning - no one should be that…cheerful on a fucking Monday.

But there you are, standing in the door of his office beaming like you won the goddamn lottery.

For some indescribable reason, it’s grating and makes his heart rate increase. He chalks it up to irritation...for now.

“I’m sorry, run that by me again?” Hopper asks incredulously as he runs a hand through his hair; it’s too early for this crap, even if it comes in the form of a cute, sweet, lovely-

Wait, focus Hopper!

You’re still looking pleased as punch, not bothered none by his grousing. “I’m aiming to join the force! Yours specifically but it’s still a work in progress, so I was assigned to shadow you for the time being. But like I said-“

“Yeah, yeah assistant or whatever. I got that much. But I don’t really have the time or patience to be some newbie’s babysitter.” The words come out harsher than he meant for them to but you’re still not deterred. You just continue to smile that same breathtaking enthusiastic smile his way and his heart insists on beating faster than should be normal. All that smoking might finally be catching up with him.

“I’m here for whatever you need, Chief!” You chirp, giving him a mock salute in an attempt to alleviate the tension. While being a glorified secretary wasn’t an ideal position, hopefully your tenacity would shine through to the Hawkin’s chief of police.

Hopper cocks an eyebrow at you, bemused, and then sighs heavily in defeat. He could already tell you were the type that wouldn’t take no for an answer and clearly you wouldn’t back down from this.

Great, just what I needed.

“Fine whatever,” he grumbles, pulling a full folder of reports from a drawer. He drops them to his desk with a gentle thud and you eye the papers curiously, awaiting further orders whatever they may be.

“I need you to go through these case files. All of them.” Hopper instructs with the same sternness of a scolding father. What was that saying about old habits?

“Cross the t’s and dot the i’s. Make sure everything is in order, got that?”

You’re positively radiating with an energy that Hopper simply cannot comprehend considering the gravity of the task he’s assigned.  

She’s a strange duck.

Of that much he is sure of at least.

Eagerly you take the file, fingertips brushing against his own briefly and Hopper feels a heat rushing to his cheeks like some lovelorn school boy. You don’t seem to be phased (of course not it’s just a simple interaction with a pretty girl Hop) and he mentally reprimands himself for acting so needlessly foolish.

“Rodger dodger Captain! Er, I mean Chief!” You laugh melodically at your own witticism that not only catches his attention but that of the entire office as well. Hopper is sure he’s dying when the erratic thumping in his chest rears its ugly head again.

Quickly he decides to dismiss you with a wave of his hand, the other attempting to cover the red now dusting his cheeks that you (thankfully) don’t notice. He doesn’t need his first impression to be more humiliating than he thinks it already is. You take your leave with another playful salute before turning on your heels to saunter to your new desk.

Hopper deduces that your eccentricity will soon run him into an early grave. And now he had to have a sit down with Flo about not letting just anybody waltz into his office at any given time unannounced. Especially someone as peculiar as you.

This new girl is gonna be a problem.

And yet...

Does Hopper take a quick peek at the way your pencil skirt hugs your ass while you walk?

Yes, yes he does.

Does it amplify his enthusiasm about working with you?

Only a little bit.

***

Summer has transitioned into Winter, leaving behind bathing suits and sunshine in exchange for sweaters and snow. The station has followed suit and is aptly decorated to show even the Hawkins Police Department has the holiday spirit in them.

It’s mostly your doing, personally going out of your way to cut and hang handmade paper snowflakes around the office. That along with colorful strings of Christmas lights. 

Hopper still twitches whenever he sees them after Joyce’s crazed epiphany that lights could somehow help her communicate with Will from the Upsidedown way back when. But he doesn’t have the heart (or the mental capacity) to tell explain that to you.

Instead he revels in your holiday giddiness, masked behind a scowl because the poor fool is still in denial that he even likes you.

You like like her, as El had so fondly put it over dinner one night. Thankfully he can successfully hush her up with a tickle bout.

The same solution sadly doesn’t apply for his nosy secretary. Hopper contemplates firing Flo after she teased him for blushing when you placed a Santa hat snugly on his head, insisting he stop being “such a Grinch”. He quickly realizes that would be “unwarranted” and the idea is soon discarded.  

It’s the middle of the afternoon, and Hopper has a slew of frantic calls to deal with much to his chagrin. In order to do that and achieve some semblance of success with it all, Hopper needs papers.

Your papers specifically.

Hours ago, he had assigned you to organize citizen report forms for him so he could properly assess and assist each member of lovely Hawkins Indiana. Missing cats, rambunctious teenage hooligans, all mundane things really. And as usual, you took your work with a grin and excited nod.

Hopper began to enjoy the warmth that you exuded. And the curve of your lips when you smiled. And-

Enough, Hop! You creep…

Now he was ready to welcome the distraction from another onslaught of racing thoughts. About you, no less! But he couldn’t do that without that work, that you usually would have immaculately finished within the hour.

Sometimes you would sign them with a pink heart.

Not relevant!

Today, however, it was almost half past one and still no papers. No bubbly entrance, no perfectly alphabetized folders paired the same cup of black coffee for him. Not so much as a peep from your direction.

Weird, Hopper thinks as he pushes himself up from his desk with a grunt. He might as well investigate, otherwise he would have nothing else to do today. Otherwise he would’ve loved to procrastinate this for as long as humanly possible. Who would’ve thought Wednesday afternoons would be slow.

Hopper steps out of his office and scans the bullpen, neglecting to return Flo’s usual greeting. Almost immediately he spots you hunched over at your desk, head nestled too comfortably on a stack of papers. 

His feet are carrying him with a stomp before he can parse what he’s really seeing.

“Go easy on her, Chief,” Flo urges in a hushed voice. The request is again ignored.

Is she...sleeping?

It would appear so.

A cup of now cold coffee sits abandoned as you continue to snore with an adorable dopey smile on your face. You look carefree, relaxed.

Cute.

Hopper shoos that last thought away before he bends down to your level. He would not have any of his staff lazily snooze the day away, on his watch no less!

“Hey! Sleeping Beauty,” he nearly booms in your ear, instantly causing you to jolt up in your seat. Your usual pristine appearance is now disheveled: a messy bun now atop your head, blazer discarded, and the top few buttons of your blouse precariously unbuttoned.

Don’t look, don’t look, don’t l-

He looked.

God dammit.

You look up at him drowsily, still not awake enough to realise the consequences of your stupidity.

“Huh,” is all you have to offer in your defense. It doesn’t seem to placate him.  

When you notice his annoyance (finally), you rush to break through your sleep addled fog. Quickly, you sit up straight and smooth away loose hair before meeting his glare.

“M-morning chief,” you say sheepishly, daring to wave hello to him. The stink eye treatment continues.

“It’s 1:30 p.m,” he responds back cooly, unamused by your jests.

You genuinely look surprised, and turn to the clock ticking idly on the wall above. “Afternoon?!” A few sniggers can be heard around the office.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry Chief,” you apologize sincerely. Hopper doesn’t even think he’s seen you frown before and now you’re saying sorry for mistakes you never make. He’s taken aback for a moment and you continue to express your regret.

“I came in early to decorate for the holidays. Like, super early,” the emphasis is accurately dramatized with a yawn. Hopper’s rigidness softens. He knew you were responsible for their newfound winter wonderland, but he didn’t realize how much work you actually put into it.

Aw Christ.

Hopper clears his throat. “Y-you did all of this,” he asks incredulously. He’s seen some freaky shit in his career but right now he is truly shocked by your dedication. For something that he previously found tedious and unnecessary.

“Yeah,” you admit shyly, a tinge of pink adorning your cheeks. Hopper notices, and pretends he doesn’t think it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. “I just thought it would be cute.”

Cute?

Was it really that simple? You just wanted to spread some Christmas cheer and it tuckered you out in the process?

Hopper brings a hand to his lips to hide the smile that’s starting to form there.

As soon as it comes, it leaves and he composes himself. He doesn’t know what comes over him (is it love?) and he places his hand on your shoulder, patting it with a huff.

The entire department watches wide-eyed at the interaction.

They’ve been placing bets (secretly) on when and where Hopper finally decides to ask you out. It doesn’t seem like today’s going to be that day, but it’s a step in the right direction. Powell curses under his breath and pulls out a dollar and hands it to Callahan. Flo smiles to herself.

“Just-“ Hopper takes a deep breath in. It’s hard to focus when you’re looking at him with those doe eyes. “Don’t worry about it. Just make sure I get it before the end of the day.”

Your apprehension melts away and it seems Hopper has succeeded in bringing your smile back.

Merry Christmas to me.

“Rodger dodger, Chief,” you chirp before turning your attention back to your own desk, already hyper focused on your work.

You don’t see the small smile he sends your way as he returns back to his office.

Fifty nine minutes later, on the dot (a new record for you!) you bring the fruits of your labor back to Hopper’s office. It seems you just missed him unfortunately, leaving the folder on an empty desk. You quite enjoy the small interactions shared between the two during the lulls of the work day, progressively getting longer and more friendly in nature.

You cross paths with him on the way out however, exchanging smiles and hellos as you both return to your designated posts.

On your desk, you find a fresh cup of coffee made just the way you like it: cream and two sugars.

It’s signed with a heart.

***

Indiana snow storms have devolved into gentle flurries, snowflakes idly cascading down a thin veil of snow covers the nearly empty streets.

Nearly empty.

Where else would Hopper find himself late on a Thursday evening then on his way to a local watering hole. El found herself at Max’s house for the evening, and Hopper’s restless boredom soon gets the better of him. Nothing a cold glass of beer can’t fix.

He, in turn, finds himself in town, meandering his way to a dive-bar at the end of the block. Neon lights flicker dully in the dusty window, barely illuminating the bartender and lone figure inside.

Seems someone else had a similar idea, sneaking out into the night for a pint and handfuls of shitty peanuts.  

The door opens with a soft jingle and through the haze of lingering cigarette smoke and dim lights, Hopper spots you at the bar. You’re as perky as ever, chatting the bartender’s poor ear off about this and that. Hopper, childishly, is jealous.

In your hand is a can of cheap beer - Schlitz to be exact. 

Hopper’s favorite.

Be still my beating heart.

You notice him shortly after, and your smile practically lights up the room.

“Chief!” You call out with a raise of your drink. The bartender, (Chris - or something, Hopper can’t bother to remember) breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of a normal customer. It seems no grouch can ruin your good time.

“Chief,” Chris greets (with considerably less enthusiasm) and slides him a coaster. Hopper pays his greeting no mind and devotes his attention solely to you.

You look significantly more casual, blouse and skirt replaced with jeans and a flannel, hair loose and falling to your shoulder in gentle curls. Despite the shift in appearance, you still hold yourself the same way as you do at work - poised.

Hopper admires that about you.

Among other things.

“Hey,” he greets. Before he can get another word in, make some lame comment about the weather or what the cat dragged in, you’re already patting the stool next to your eagerly.

“Sit with me!”

“W-what?” Hopper responds (stupidly).

You’re already ordering him a beer, disregarding his confusion. “You heard me. Unless you just came out in the snow to say ‘hey’ and scram?” Your voice has a teasing lilt to it that enchants Hopper. He wants to hear more of it

“Just doing my nightly rounds,” he jokes back, “but since I’m here I might as well hang around. Make sure you’re not getting into any trouble.” It’s rare for Hopper’s bark to have no bite, just playful nips. He appreciates the relaxed atmosphere your presence envelops him in.

“Unfortunately for you then, you’ll have to stick around for a bit. I have a grand scheme in the works that involves drinking with the chief of police,” you say with a mischievous smirk. “Gotta keep me from ‘getting into trouble’.” Hopper can’t help but guffaw at your attempt to impersonate him. It’s comical and endearing all the same.

“Sounds mighty serious,” apprehension dissolves as he sits down next to you, the old chair creaking as he turns toward you. Your knees practically touch and neither of you seem to notice or care.

Handing him his respective can of beer, you knock yours against his with a harmonious clink.

You do that for the first.

And then the second.

And the third.

With each drink comes a new story shared between you.

You tell him about your time at the police academy. He tells you about his continuing struggles with El and her pesky boyfriend, Mike.

You like hard rock and your old Suburban.

He loves hound dogs but is too busy to actually get one.

Drinks keep on pouring.

Time passes effortlessly, bleeding into midnight and your laughter echoes throughout the emptiness of the bar.

“Oh Chris isn’t always this bad. You know sometimes, he’ll let me order a mimosa at 8 p.m and he won’t give me a hard time” you titter, earning an eye roll from the aforementioned bartender. Hopper fights to contain his chortling.

“You’re the only one who orders it and you’re the only reason I have to keep stocking champagne.” Chris grumbles, cleaning a glass a bit more aggressively than necessary.

“Well you should be thanking her for the extra business then,” Hopper adds with a gruff laugh. Chris doesn’t seem to find it amusing. He opts to turn on the small radio behind the bar, hoping to drown out your nonsense. with some music

It works for a little bit.

A little bit.

Until Roxette starts playing...

Then all Hell breaks loose in the form of an ecstatic cheer of, “I. Love. This. Song!”

Hopper really can’t contain his enjoyment now.

Upbeat pop music from a second-rate radio fuels you now.

“And I go la la la la la!” 

You’re booming now, swinging your head from side to side to the beat. Your hair is wild now from the throes of your merriment. Hopper likes it even more this way.

He joins in from time to time, singing a lyric from the chorus (poorly he thinks) but takes more pleasure in watching your one woman performance.

She’s got the look indeed.

Chris regards you with a cocked eyebrow and looks to the chief, shaking his head. “She’s something else,” he says with a dry laugh.

Hopper is too busy watching you hurrying to the whirring jukebox now, a hand full of quarters and promises of “you’re gonna love this song,” on your tongue as the first one fades out.

His eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles.

“Yeah,” he says reverently, “she really is.”

[widaugast]

        META: DISINTEGRATE.

        Though I knew it was risky, it didn't truly sink in until after I processed the episode how much of a gamble Caleb's final "Disintegrate" at Vokodo was  ----  and how much of a seemingly uncalculated one.  I rarely delve into reading others' meta, but I spent a bit of time reading some last night, and have come to my own thoughts  ----  most of which build off of this post, and it makes a few very good points that I think are worth repeating and expanding upon here.

        First, there's the caveat that this is not ultimately our game or our choices  ----  canon divergence comes in on the latter, and go for it if it's what makes sense to you and makes you happy as a writer!  I'll always be curious about what prompts those choices, and over the years I've made a few myself on various muses.  Still, the first always applies  ----  just because casting this spell seems too risky of a choice for me to have made, or that I dislike it, doesn't mean it's necessarily an automatically "bad" one.  It's only a different choice than maybe my own might've been  ----  the aftereffects and how the rest of the Nein deal with the implications of it are really what I am curious about moving forward.

        I think part of the thorniness for this lies in that it exposes a side of Caleb we don't see as often  ----  but one we have seen recently, given the ghost fight and casting "Disintegrate" again then in those ruins.  Namely, it exposes how instinctual he can be when strictly doing damage.  He's so often strategizing, as the majority of his spells (and his sublcass) are focused on support that requires it, but when he's attacking, when it comes down to split-second "cause damage, end this quickly" because it seems like support isn't working anymore, or support hasn't worked well so far, then he will cause damage.  Even if that's to the detriment of his own and the party's safety or admittedly, shortsighted  ----  lighting the deck of Avantika's ship on fire with Wall of Fire while everyone's on it, trying to send a 5th-level Fireball at the dragon turtle while they're underwater because I need to damage this thing right now.  It doesn't even matter in the moment that it won't work as well as he'd hoped because they're underwater, what matters is I have to attack and this is what I have and all other thoughts  ----  especially strategic ones  ----  can really slide to the back of Caleb's brain when he's specifically dealing damage.

        This is something of a character flaw:  when Caleb is dealing extreme damage, his strategizing thoughts can often be won over by instinct, and an extreme tunnel-visioned security in his decisions that goes away the moment they're over and something's burning.  "I was so sure  ----  I was so sure, until I wasn't."  That's been there since day one.

        In this case especially, this is a flaw I expect to have consequences.  I'll be curious to see what they are, but I don't think after taking the risk of Banishing his own party members because Banishment was at least not yet resorting to damage, not directly killing this thing, Caleb's going to get away scot-free from some amount of judgement from the other Nein about that decision in the long run, or even the short-term.  I wouldn't expect it.  Earlier this episode, Veth emphasized  ----  granted, in a different conversation  ----  that friends call friends on each other's shit, and I think it wouldn't be unwarranted for any of the Nein in this case.  Especially Beau, since she was banished the first time, or Jester, who'd been Vokodo's main antagonist in those last few minutes and likely would have been the one reflected on had the Disintegrate gone poorly.

        However, I wonder on the last if Caleb didn't expect to get his spell reflected back on himself  ----  or at least, Liam was expecting as much if something went wrong.  He'd have been very clearly the one trying that damage  ----  the ultimate damage  ----  of course it's possible that it might've just been struck straight back at him.  It's equally possible it could have hit someone else, but that's in neither Liam nor Caleb's control  ----  it was in Matt's and we don't know what he would have chosen. He could have been checking for below the spell’s damage to either strike that person or to avoid it, we just don’t know.

        All of this to say I don't excuse this for being reckless, which it was  ----  any creature successfully effected by Disintegrate can only be brought back by True Resurrection or Wish, neither of which any of the Nein have.  (Depending on her level, Vilya might have the former, but that would be a big ask for someone so new to their acquaintance, and they're running low on residuum.)  However, I do think it's not out-of-character.  If anything, it was very in-character, exemplifying one of Caleb's deepest long-running flaws he has yet to reckon with.

       It’s also a good reminder that Neutral alignments are just that ---- neutral, not “good lite,” with all the thorns and misguided actions and shortsightedness and hubris and flaws that that comes with. Loving something, even a character or a campaign, means acknowledging these flaws, not sweeping them under the rug ---- even when they aren’t flaws or decisions we wouldn’t have necessarily made ourselves.  What’s equally natural for flaws and spurts of hubris are consequences and learning from them, and that’s what I’m interested in moving forward.

[cat-with-a-tie]

A DenNor analysis of sorts

Hello, sweet chirping crickets! I’ve been shipping this ship for literal years now but have never plucked up the courage to actually interact with anyone or anything, so I’ve no idea why I’m doing it now, in the year of our Lord 2019, but hey, it’s never too late to get dragged back into aph hell.

I plan on posting a series of long ass rants that absolutely no one asked for in which I attempt to discuss the dynamics of DenNor and the Nordic characters in general, drawing mainly on Himaruya’s portrayal, historical facts, and my own headcanons, so welcome to the first installation of Stuff Nobody Really Cares About that I Wrote in a Fit of Boredom and Self-indulgence!

Before we start, if anyone’s reading this at all then please bear in mind that this is mostly just IMHO. And since there’s no correct way to ship a pairing (this cannot be stressed enough), my interpretation is just that—my personal interpretation, and it is by no means impartial because there’s definitely a healthy dose of my own preferences in there. Actually, I haven’t got any mutuals to talk to at the moment, so if my interpretation’s terrible, by all means go on and yell at me, I will love you to death for it.

In this post I’m going to rant about Norway’s personality (or his lack of it, thereof; don’t worry I’ll get to it later), with just a tiny segment on Denmark thrown in the mix, because hey, I do need to sleep.

“Anko” and its implications for Norway’s character

So, as most people probably already know, in the Japanese version Norway calls Denmark “anko”. In the Northeastern dialect he speaks, this is something like a diminutive form of “big brother” or “boss” (yes, Norway calls Denmark big brother!). In East Asian cultures, it is commonplace for younger men to address older ones (related or not) by honorifics ranging from super courteous to super casual, such as “aniki” in Japanese, “hyung” in Korean, and “da-ge” or “ge” in Mandarin. “Anko” also falls under this category, although it is still more casual than the more ubiquitous “aniki”. I struggle to convey its exact denotations in English, but all you need to know is that this is an affectionate way of addressing a man older than you.

But here’s a funny thing: Himaruya once stated that Denmark and Norway are “like classmates” （同級生）. Now, the Japanese term actually has a somewhat different meaning from the English one; “doukyuusei” does not strictly refer to people who are/were in the same class, but to people who belong in the same school year and therefore, in most cases, share the same age. This actually makes sense, because if we consider history, up until the 14th century or so the three Scandinavian kingdoms developed at much the same pace, so it would be reasonable to assume (despite Himaruya’s being abominably vague on nation mechanism) that the characters are of similar ages as well.

Why, then, does Himaruya have Norway refer to Denmark, who should be about the same age as he is, as “anko”? The thing is, aside from denoting age difference, this sort of honorific can also denote a difference in status. Even if someone is not significantly older than you, you may still refer to them with an honorific if you feel their status is above you or wish to pay them respect in an affectionate way.

So, consider this: Norway does not disrespect or look down on Denmark at all, in fact, he respects him enough to call him something akin to “boss” or “older brother”. Bear in mind that this is Norway we’re talking about, Norway of the onii-chan obsession! There’s no doubt that he sees a great deal of significance in this sort of thing, otherwise he wouldn’t be so bent on having Iceland address him as such. And he calls Denmark “big brother”. Just… just take a minute to let that sink in, will ya.

So this brings us to the main subject of my essay, and that is that Norway, for all his sass, is a bit of a doormat.

Now, before anyone starts yelling at me about how his people are perhaps the most fiercely patriotic out of all the Nordic countries, please let me finish my theory. You don’t get independence after centuries of being a glorified trophy bride and not feel the need to vent all that pent up frustration, after all.

First, if you look at strips such as the Denmark vs. Sweden frozen lake fiasco, you’ll see that Norway basically goes along with anything Denmark does, even when he’s actions are outright harebrained (and, to be fair, they often were). He might nag, and he might throw in a word or two of complaints, but at the end of the day Denmark calls the shots, and Norway seems pretty content to let him do so, even when sometime it’s him who has to bear the consequences of Denmark’s brashness (historically, during the many conflicts between Denmark and Sweden, many of which Denmark initiated, Sweden would often bypass Denmark and invade Norway instead, since its lack of military prowess meant that Norway could be used as leverage to force Denmark into accepting all sorts of outrageous conditions; meanwhile, any sort of military action Denmark engaged in was exceptionally taxing—no pun intended—on Norway due to its small population and frequent food shortages). 

Also keep in mind that compared to the strips set in modern times, Norway’s treatment of Denmark was considerably milder in the medieval era. My theory is that his attitude towards Denmark only soured after the chain of events that eventually lead to his independence in the 19th century, buuut that’s an essay for another time! Right now I’d like to discuss a personality trait of Norway’s that fascinates me a lot and directly ties into his tendency to be pushed around: his standoffishness.

This is a character inclined to keep on the sidelines and just watch things unfold, even when said events concern his very own person. He doesn’t seem to give a fig when Denmark and Sweden are fighting to the death—hell, not even when they are fighting over him, something that happened a lot in history.

Now, I can think of two main reasons for this passiveness, the first being that Norway, unlike Denmark, probably knows his own limitations to a degree that I believe must have been painful for him at times (not that he shows it, anyway). Although of course being able to see and communicate with magical creatures could result in one being a little less interested in the mortal realm, I find it unlikely that he was always this disengaged. He was once a Viking, after all, and up until the 13th century his kingdom was arguably the most powerful and expansive in all of Scandinavia.

But then, of course, came the Black Death. Norway’s decline in the late Middle Ages was in fact facilitated by a myriad of factors including civil war, incompetent politicians, and either a shortage or a surplus of kings, but having three quarters of its population decimated by the plague was perhaps the heaviest blow of all, and by the time the Kalmar Union took place the prospects of competing with Denmark or Sweden were pretty bleak.

From there on was what 19th century Norwegian nationalist poet Wergeland dubbed the “four hundred years of night”. Although most modern historians agree that Norway was far from destitute under Danish rule and may even have benefitted considerably from it, in terms of Norway’s development as a character, I reckon it could be said that he was, in fact, shrouded in night. The night in question, however, as opposed to being a symbol of Danish tyranny as Wergeland probably intended it to be, would be more of a metaphor for Norway’s own willingness to “fall asleep”, thereby shutting out a world in which he knew he has no say. In this way, he turned a blind eye on Denmark’s ill-fated endeavors, on Sweden’s budding ambition, on the animosity brewing between his two friends, and probably even on Denmark’s mistreatment of him.

During the Kalmar Union, he must have known that he was the weakest of the three kingdoms, and that it was better to just let things take their course instead of joining the fight for hegemony along with Sweden and Denmark. During the union with Denmark, he knew too that life would be far easier if he just went along with things; after all, he knew Denmark, he knew he was stubborn and that he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. He also knew that Denmark meant well and that, despite everything, he cared a great deal for his family, as shown in the tax raise strip where Norway tells Denmark that “[it’s OK] because you’re trying your best”. 

It’s possible that Norway also derived some degree of consolation from Denmark’s affection, in that even though as nations they stood on uneven ground, as friends and as people he could still trust Denmark to have his best interests at heart. Also, by telling himself that he and Denmark were “in this boat together”, Norway could avoid the sense of relative deprivation that arose from being a nation in an unequal union, and subsequently avoid feeling resentment towards Denmark, whom he’s always cared for and perhaps even looked up to despite everything. His referring to Denmark as “anko” despite being roughly the same age as him can perhaps be interpreted as a sign of this (arguably unwarranted) trust.

So in short, a prolonged sense of powerlessness led Norway to become emotionally detached as a form of defense mechanism, while affection for his childhood friend made him reluctant to put his foot down when Denmark’s arrogance and blind optimism threatened to get out of hand. All this serves to expedite the standoffishness I mentioned earlier that is typical of his character.

Thus, if we accept the theory (note the italics) of Denmark once upon a time being abusive, I personally find it plenty believable that Norway would just, well, lie back and take it. In part because he cares deeply for Denmark and is dependent on him in a bit of an unhealthy way (there’s already a wonderfully insightful post right here on tumblr addressing Norway’s shyness and how his trust in Denmark sometimes manifests as crassness, so I’m not gonna go into that here), and in part because he knows being submissive is the path of least resistance. Taking whatever Denmark the person inflicts on him would still be far more ideal than going to war with or losing the support of Denmark the nation. So yeah, lie back and think of yourself, I guess.

In this regard Norway’s mentality is drastically different from that of Denmark and Sweden’s, which is that one should always fight a losing battle if the alternative is being trod on. He acts more according to strategy, while the other two act more according to pride and passion. The upside is that, being more pragmatic and knowing his limits, he knows better where and how to deploy his strengths; the downside is that he can at times come off as a bit of a pushover.

Incidentally, this is why I find WWII history to be so damn interesting in terms of the Nordic’s characterisations, because we get to see the Viking Trio seemingly go against everything that had until then defined their personalities. To be fair, this is way after all that fucked up shit with the treaties of Fredrikshamn and Kiel, which I consider a major turning point (or mental growth spur, if you will) for all five Nordics, so I reckon it all still kind of makes sense because of the wonderful mechanics of character development? But then again, that’s an essay for another time!

A bit on Denmark

I like to think of Denmark’s behaviour during his youth as the result of a misguided desire to “play house”—out of love for his family (arguably for Norway in particular) he wishes to keep them safe, and what better way to do that than keeping them all under his wing? Sure, I’m ready to believe at least some part of him was fueled by bloodlust and a thirst for power, as is often the case with nations, but in general he simply didn’t know better.

In the mean time, Norway’s docile compliance did nothing to curb this misconception; worst case scenario, it only served to fuel it, make Denmark feel like he really was the leader and that it was his obligation to be in charge for the sake of them both. I consider their relationship in this time period to be quite toxic, even though related strips show them to be closer than ever.

For me, a significant part of Denmark’s character development is him realising that the happiness of his loved ones should not have to depend on him, and that one can be loved without being needed (in terms of DenNor, it’s him learning to love Norway as an equal and not just someone to be protected/coddled).

For Norway it’s the opposite—he learns to regain control over his own life, to stand up for himself and to love Denmark without taking any bullshit from him.

[pumpkindechart]

Every Day by David Levithan | Book Review

“People take love's continuity foor granted, just as they take their body's continuity for granted. They don't realize that the best thing about love is its regular presence. Once you can establish that, it's an added foundation to your life.”

                              Book Review by Angelica Cariño

a/n: stop right there! before you can start reading this book review. I want to say that all the critique that I said in this review are just my humble opinion. please don’t let my review sway your opinion on reading this lovely book :).

Synopsis

    Every day a different body. Every day a different life. Every day in love with the same girl. There’s never any warning about where it will be or who it will be. A has made peace with that, even established guidelines by which to live: Never get too attached. Avoid being noticed. Do not interfere.     It’s all fine until the morning that A wakes up in the body of Justin and meets Justin’s girlfriend, Rhiannon. From that moment, the rules by which A has been living no longer apply. Because finally A has found someone he wants to be with—day in, day out, day after day. Date Published: August 28, 2012

Publisher: Knopf Books for Young Readers

Setting: Maryland, USA

No. of Pages: 322

About the Author

     David Levithan was born in September 7th 1972 in Short Hills, New Jersey. He has written several novels both solo and collaboration. His collaboration with Billy Merrell, The Full Spectrum: A New Generation of Writing About Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender, Questioning, and Other Identities, was granted the Lambda Award for Best LGBTQ Children’s/Teen Book .

Review

    Here’s the the thing. I don’t really expect that I will like this story so much that I’m begging for more.     I’ve heard about this book here and there, but I didn’t have the chance to read it. I’ve seen it in display on the bookstores, begging to be bought by me. Being a bookworm that I am there’s an itch to buy the book and own a copy, but the sad thing is that I don’t have enough money to buy the book. Horrah!      Unfortunately the book completely slip off my mind as time passed.  If not because our teacher in reading and writing making us write a book review about the book I would forgot about it. Fortunately, there is an app in the playstore that helps you read books for free! It is called AllBooks. Okay, enough chit-chat let's go on with the review.     Every Day is definitely one of the most unique books out there, it was well-thought out and the writing was flawless. I have not read anything like it before and believe me I’ve read a lot of books on my free time (I have a whole collection of books at my house). Well the concept is not entirely original (There’s a TV series called “Quantum Leap” that touch this idea of leaping into the bodies of different people).

    You can learn a lesson from almost every chapter, you can be in the body (and somehow even the mind) of all kinds of people, struggling with their problems, creating others, trying to fix the unfixable or to keep untouched the precious moments in their lives. You learn that actions always  have consequences, that when you change things you have to assume the responsibility for doing so; you get glimpses into the head of so many types of people and at the end of the day not only you can learn a thing or two from it, but you can really become a better person.     The different characters, the lives that A inhabits each day, made the book very interesting because you can see how all of them have different personality, lifestyle and routine. I loved how A was able to at least separate themselves from the lives they are been living, but also sad at the same time for they can’t have what these lives have. I can’t even imagine waking up every day as a new person and for A spending their whole life doing this whole routine of waking up in a different body. I salute them.     I was sobbing at the end of the book, the good kind of hurt, if that’s even possible. Do you know that I looked like a mess when I finished the book? I was staring to the abyss thinking; how can A able to that. Honestly, A can spend their whole life with Rhiannon because there is a way to achieve it but I applaud them for making that decision.     To be honest I was hoping for some explanation about A situation. It gave us snippets of it, but I would have liked for it to explain more. But at the same time I’m glad that the author doesn’t try to explain why A wakes up in a different body each day. I liked that Every Day wasn’t that type of book, and that we didn’t get all the answers, because the story isn’t about that. The story is about humanity and belonging, and what it means to be connected with other people. What David Levithan gave us was incredibly moving and heartbreaking, and I was thoroughly satisfied with how everything played out. Everything in this book just worked. We jump into the A and Rhiannon story from the very first chapter, and even though it was a little bit insta-lovey, it all just felt right. Nothing in this book felt far-fetched. My one minor criticism about the plot was that the ending felt slightly rushed. It is not exactly my cup of tea.

Characters

      A is the narrator and the main character of the novel. A transfers from body to body everyday and they are doing it as long as they can remember. “Imagine being home sick, but without having a home” — A     A is a dynamic character because they are constantly struggling against themselves because of what they are. They aren’t able to make friendships that last longer than a day and now they are being confronted with falling in love. A doesn't know much about how they came to be and doesn't have a mother or father to look up to therefore they have no one to guide them so they have to fend for themselves.

     Rhiannon is a girl who is "pretty but she doesn't see it". She is also characterized as, "lost in her sadness". In the beginning of the book she is introduced as Justin's girlfriend. A also posesses her body at some point in the book. “I'm having a hard time imagining how, but I want these pieces to fit.” — Rhiannon

     Justin is a sixteen year old boy who lives with both parents. He doesn’t care for her girlfriend Rhiannon. He is also agressive, abusive and a douchebag to his girlfriend. A feels they should protect and save Rhiannon from him. “I focus on the present because that is where I am destined to live.”  — A as Justin

     Nathan is a normal every day guy, fairly smart, an introvert, but seems to be a gentleman. When he got possesed by A and he unknowingly went to a party (A lying to Nathan’s parents about it) and got left at side of the road. Nathan became aware of A possessing his body and he is not willing to give up till he knows everything.     “It's as if when you love someone, they become your reason. ”  — A as Nathan

     Kelsea is a girl who is dealing with and depression. Kelsea keeps a journal where she expresses her deepest feelings about her depression and thoughts about suicide.  “I find it hard to concentrate on what's being said. I find it hard to see how any of this is important. Nothing I'm being taught here will make life less painful. None of the people in this room will make life less painful.” — A as Kelsea

     Ashley is described as a girl "knock-out", with a gorgeous face and the body of Beyonce. Ashley’s life is defined by her beauty. It is clear that she spends virtually all her time trying to look perfect. “You like him because he's a lost boy. Believe me, I've seen it happen before. But do you know what happens to girls who love lost boys? They become lost themselves. Without fail.”  — A as Ashley

     Alexander is one of the people that A wakes up as. A knows from the start that he likes being in this body and life. He believes that if they are a normal human they would be a lot like Alexander. "She is my first and only love. Most people know that their first love will not be their only love. But for me, she is both. This will be the only chance I give myself. This will never happen again. "  — A as Alexander

     Reverend Poole is not really the real Poole, he is another person like A. The difference between A and Poole is that A only stays in the body for once a day and then changes but Poole has found some way to occupy one particular body for as long as he wishes. In other words Poole is using his powers for evil instend of good. “I know you so much better than you give me credit for. Do you think this is an accident? Do you think I'm just some religious zealot here to exorcise your demons away? Did you ever ask yourself why I am cataloging such things, what I'm looking for? The answer is you, Andrew. And others like you.” — Reverend Poole's host to A

Favorite Quotes

After a while, you have to be at peace with the fact that you simply are. There is no way to know why. You can have theories, but there will never be proof. - A as Justin We all want everything to be okay. We don't even wish so much for the fantastic or marvelous or outstanding. We will happily settle for okay, because most of the time, okay is enough. - A as Justin I have seen this too many times before. The unwarranted devotion. Putting up with the fear of being with the wrong person because you can't deal with the fear of being alone. The hope tinged with doubt, and the doubt tinged with hope. Every time I see these feelings in someone else's face, it weighs me down. - A as Justin It is its own form of conversation - you can learn a lot about people from the stories they tell, but you can also know them from the way they sing along, whether they like the windows up or down, if they live by the map or by the world, if they feel the pull of the ocean. - A as Justin People are rarely as attractive in reality as they are in the eyes of the people who are in love with them. Which is, I suppose, as it should be. It's almost heartening to think that the attachment you have can define your perception as much as any other influence. - A as Leslie Kindness connets to who you are, while niceness connects to how you want to be seen. - A as Amy You shouldn't have to venture deep down in order to get to love.- A as Nathan It would be too easy to say that I feel invisible. Instead, I feel painfully visible, and entirely ignored. People takl to her but it feels like they are outside a house, talking through th ewalls. There are friends, but they are people to spend time with, not people to share time with. There's a false beast that takes the form of instinct and harps on the pointlessness of everything that happens. - A as Kelsea ... even though the world doesn't matter to her, she matters to the world. - A as Kelsea This is what love does: It makes you want to rewrite the world. It makes you want to choose the characters, build the scenery, guide the plot. The person you love sits across from you, and you want to do everything in your power to make it possible, endlessly possible. And when it's just the two of you, alone in a room, you can pretend that this is how it is, this is how it will be. - A as Adam If you stare at the center of the universe, there is a coldness there. A blankness. Ultimately, the universe doesn't care about us. Time doesn't care about us. That's why we have to care about each other. - A as Alexander Belonging. Togetherness. Thee words are as complicated and confusing as the word love. It's probably all the same thing. Or it would be if we let it be. I can only guess from observation. - A as Mark 

Conclusion

   This novel presents interesting themes, character, point of view, and the relation between the main character, the cover, and the title as its strengths.The themes of this novel are ‘love regardless appearance’ and ‘the struggles of life���. As the main character of this novel, A will impress the readers about how this character becomes tough and wise in dealing withthe character’s complicated life.The other strength is this novel’s first-person point of view which takes the readers to step into the character’s life deeply and feel this character’s feeling. How the meaning of the main character’s name, the cover, and the title are related to each other is also the uniqueness of this novel that becomes its strength. However, the indefinite ending of this novel may become a let down for some readers.     Lastly, David Levithan’s Every Day is recommended for those who like reading romance novel and searching for the unique one. The heartrending story and the good messages that it carries makes this novel worth reading.

[thesnug]

The Aghast Ms. Arathooon

We are bingeing our way through the offerings of this golden age of television, and our latest conquest is The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. (If you haven’t seen it, mild #spoilers below.)

For the uninitiated, this is the story of a housewife in the late 50s who, through a tumultuous series of events, begins a career as a stand up comedian. I’m not a fan of shows about comedians as a rule, but this one hooked me in with the most beautiful period costuming, in particular the coat in the first episode: 

And then strong, funny female characters and an interesting female friendship sealed the deal.

But during the first season, I kept having a strange reaction: Due to some dropped hint in the script, I’d foresee a negative turn of events coming soon, and find myself absolutely unable to watch the rest of the episode. 

The first time this happened was in episode 5, where I was so sure that her notebook of joke ideas was going to get stolen that, without even thinking, I reached out and slammed the laptop shut. When Mark, laughing somewhat incredulously, asked what was up, all I could do was back out of the room saying “No, no, no, no, no!”

He finished the episode when I was out of the house and reported that my fears were unwarranted. So I delved back in. But the same thing happened in episode 6, when I was convinced Midge would scupper Abe’s chances with Bell Labs. And then again in episode 7, when Midge starts talking about Sophie Lennon on stage. (That one, at least, was justified.)

This was the most visceral reaction I’ve had to a show in a long time, and I couldn’t understand what was prompting it. True, my favorite episodes of any drama are the ones where basically nothing happens, but most shows insist on having “plot” and “stakes,” and that doesn’t usually lead to me moonwalking out of the room in terror. So what was up?

At first I thought it was a result of the theater-like structure and dialogue. The show has the same showrunner as the Gilmore Girls, with the same fast-paced patter. In dialogue and staging it often has the rhythm and choreography of an old-fashioned farce. Each dropped hint therefore instantly became part of Chekov’s artillery, making the outcome seem so unavoidable that I couldn’t bear to watch -- even after the writers had proven that they could sidestep the gun into a more interesting ending each time.

That felt true enough, as far as it went. But after digging some more, I found a deeper, more unflattering truth.

I am a long-term schemer. A key example: At age six, I told my summer camp teacher that I’d have her job some day. At age thirteen I started apprenticing under her, and at sixteen she retired and I took over. 

Basically everything I do is calculated and premeditated. Every word that comes out of my mouth is heavily filtered, often to the point where it no longer makes sense. With every action I contemplate myriad worst consequences, imaginary loved ones dying in fires or car crashes at my inadvertent behest all day every day. These filters are exhausting, but it’s the only way I know how to function in the world. And usually it gets me what I want, eventually. Just ask that sixteen-year-old girl running the Animal Room.

Midge Maisel is a character who stumbles into a highly unlikely, against-all-odds situation: not just a career as a woman in the 50s, but a career as a stand up comic, the odds against which are still ludicrously stacked today. She wants this career, and she’s good at it.

Therefore, every time Midge seems poised to make some obvious, avoidable mistake that’s going to blow it all to smithereens, every fiber in my being rebels. Surely she must see what’s going to happen? She’s a smart character, how can the writers think she’d act so foolishly? She’s going to ruin this career she says she wants, or hurt someone she loves! Nope, nope, nope. Slam the laptop, moonwalk away. 

It took me the whole first season to realize what is probably obvious to everyone else: Midge’s lack of filter is at the core of her success. She doesn’t just “stumble into” her career; she’s blown into it on the winds of fury and despair, her inside turmoil turned out on stage to the delight of the audience. Yes, it’s career suicide to lambast Sophie Lennon; but without being the kind of person who would do that, Midge wouldn’t have a career to suicide in the first place.

Some deep-down part of me still believes that women have to self-moderate, to limit themselves to succeed in a man’s world. Some deep-down part of me believes that we have to preemptively clip our own wings in order to be allowed to fly at all. I’m grateful to the show for presenting an alternate option, for taking it to the extreme; for making my deep-down inner schemer so uncomfortable that it was forced out into its own harsh spotlight for examination.

[pandemicstress]

Black Lives Matter and the Pandemic

I met Caroline, a young black professional, a few years ago when we both served as volunteers on a committee. My experience of Caroline was that she was a capable, hardworking go-getter. She gave so much to a cause that paid nothing and she grew as a leader as a consequence of her service.

Although I didn’t know Caroline in a professional environment, it was obvious to me that she would be a high performer who went the extra mile for her employer and her team. I interviewed her in June 2020 as part of my project to understand how the pandemic impacted people.

Caroline leads a team of young black people and had been in the job for a year before the pandemic. She reports to the General Manager of her organization. For some time, Caroline wanted to promote remote work for the team but her manager was reluctant. With the onset of lockdown and the pandemic, she finally had the chance to test the approach.

Personally, Caroline enjoyed working at home and in saving a lot of time in the commute. In the first month, Caroline applied herself to helping her team cope. This entailed checking on them, making sure they had breaks and keeping an eye on the team communications. As time went on and the team adapted, she applied herself to dealing with some clashes that took place with some team members. It was fascinating to watch how some team members just shut down. In the early days of online meetings, Caroline asked one young lady a question and she started to flounder even though she knew the answer and she does a great job. Caroline had to speak to her privately afterwards to explain that she’s not being interrogated but rather Caroline was seeking clarity and that she can feel free to speak openly.

The company has done well considering the pandemic and many other companies did not manage to withstand the lockdown and the difficulties associated with the changes. The company had to adjust its plans for growth as a result of the pandemic. A few clients paused their work for a period but most clients continued as planned. They lost a big client but this was already on the cards and was not a result of the pandemic or anything that Caroline did. In fact, they gained a big new client which led them to make some changes. This is true for almost all businesses in that they have had to make material changes in response to the pandemic and the reaction of clients. These changes have been beneficial considering their client base and the offerings they provide.

Caroline did not have a good relationship with her manager before the pandemic. He did things like hold meetings with staff without inviting her, and then challenging her as to why she didn’t know about some things. Caroline called him on it and things were better for a while. He is very money oriented but her focus is the delivery and wellbeing of the team.

Her manager seemed very stressed by the impacts of the pandemic. He went into survival mode and his own stress spilled over in the way he treated her. He blamed Caroline for revenue dropping in the year that she had been in the organization. However, he failed to acknowledge that the revenue was already on its way down when she joined the business and he excluded data that showed some upturn.

A few years ago, Caroline read Arianna Huffington’s book, Thrive, and implemented approaches to improve her self-care, such as getting enough sleep. Her manager’s unwarranted attack really impacted her. She started drinking more alcohol in the evenings and she stopped eating well and exercising for about two weeks. She had planned to remain in the job for about three years to achieve her own goals and growth, was well as to support her team. She realized that she might not be able to fulfil her promise because of the stress and the relationship with her manager. There were also the financial stakes of looking for a new job in a market that is not hiring. This treatment made her doubt whether she could endure it and her self-care took a back seat.

Caroline thrives on challenges. She loves to push her body and mind such as participating in the 75 Hard Program – a regimen created by Andy Frisella which entails exercising twice a day for 45 minutes, drinking 4 litres of water and following a healthy diet of zero alcohol or cheat days for 75 consecutive days.

On Facebook she was participating in a group that offered a challenge to read empowering books. The participants were offered five books to consider and she reluctantly chose one - The Miracle Morning by Hal Elrod. She devoured the book in about three days and quickly integrated the practices into her day. This included meditation, exercise, journaling, visualizations, reading and affirmations designed to improve one’s mindset.

Caroline experienced a major shift as a result of reading this book. She got back into exercise, she did the affirmations, visualizations and meditations which were new experiences for her. She also read a pile of other books as part of this experience such as Think and Grow Rich and It Takes What It Takes.

She managed life so much better since starting the process and changing her morning routine. Her energy became directed towards her goals and she realized that journaling is an excellent tool to manage emotions and to purge frustrations so that they don’t interfere with the rest of the day. There is research behind this philosophy of journaling to release strong emotions. James Pennebaker’s studies show that regular journaling about traumatic events can lower stress and improve happiness.

She learnt that negative thoughts are powerful and hard to stop. Positive words are powerful but negative words and thoughts have a deeper impact. Caroline learnt how to shift from thinking about negative things to a more neutral approach and to use positive wording as a driver for good experiences.

The next time her manager started complaining, she wasn’t negatively affected at all. She just explained calmly and answered all his questions. She even had a good day despite his bad behaviour. During her morning routine, she told herself that she was going to have an awesome day, and she did as a result of using this technique.

I asked Caroline about her feeling on the Black Lives Matter movement. She kept wondering when will this police brutality and racial discrimination stop? It’s her 20-year reunion at school and some of the current pupils spoke out about micro aggressions they had experienced. The school tried to shut it down instead of addressing it openly. Some of the alumnae got together and raised the issue because they are upset that it’s still going on. With lockdown, she feels that conversations emerged that would not otherwise have been heard.

In the South African context, although the black population is the majority, she feels that police brutality happens here on a class level. Many black people who are working class suffer many indignities which is not fair. Given our history of Apartheid and the fight for human rights, it is important that it does not persist.

Caroline feels that Black Lives Matter is about more than murder. It’s about unequal pay, having to work ten times harder than a white counterpart to be considered for positions. Because of government’s affirmative action policies, people have assumed that she’s in her role because of the colour of her skin and not there out of merit, even when they know she does good work.

She is often shocked that people insult her or assume she’s incompetent in a workplace that feels built around white culture and standards. She has to fight so hard to be seen as competent. When she was doing her accounting articles, one manager did not believe her when she got a distinction. He thought she was lying and that was deeply offensive. There are still some who think that black people are subhuman.

She participated in Blackout Tuesday in June 2020, an action to protest police brutality and racism. She intentionally supports black owned businesses. She reads books by black authors. She buys petrol at black-owned petrol stations and supports any black-owned business in buying their products. It’s taking the responsible sourcing to a new level and she urges others to do the same.

I admire Caroline for her work ethic, her tenacity and her focus on personal growth. It is clear that she will be successful in anything she applies herself to. She has great plans in becoming an entrepreneur and one of her hobbies is to evaluate businesses and offer advice in improving the status quo. Although the pandemic highlighted pre-existing tensions between Caroline and her manager, she has found ways to cope and to rise above petty accusations and bad leadership. Personally, I am passionate about self-care and avoiding burnout and my hope for Caroline is in finding joy in her work and balance in her life going forward.