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[summercomfort]

in my pursuit of ever-increasingly niche comics, I drew a 13 page comic about Tape v Hurley, a court case about Chinese-American school segregation in 1885. The rest of the pages are after the readmore, as well as on AO3 here. More obsure Chinese American court case comics are there, as well.

Historical Notes

Mary and Joseph Tape were not born in America, but their names and identities were very much formed in America. Joseph Tape was born Jeu Dip in Guangdong, China, immigrated the America when he was twelve, and spent his teenage years working as a house servant in an Irish household. Mary arrived in America at the age of eleven, and was found and raised as Mary McGladery in a Protestant orphanage as the only Chinese child amongst ~80 children. Both Mary and Jeu spent their formative years amongst White Christian families, so when Jeu Dip and Mary married in 1875, little wonder that Jeu picked the English name of Joseph Tape -- Joseph to match with Mary, and the German last name Tape as a nod to his former name of Dip.

The Tape family lived about 14 blocks outside of Chinatown, in a primarily white neighborhood. They dressed in Western clothing, spoke English at home, and Mamie grew up playing with non-Chinese kids. Naturally, they wanted their children to attend the local elementary school, a mere 3 blocks from their home. The principal, Ms. Hurley, denied her entrance, claiming that she was “filthy and diseased.” At the time, there was no public school option for Chinese children -- the 1870 state law stipulated separate schools for “African and Indian children” only, not Chinese. The Tape family, with the help of the Chinese Six Companies, their church, and the Chinese consulate, decided to sue, claiming that the 1880 California school code guaranteed everyone a right to public education and that this was a violation of the 14th Amendment.

They won.

But this was 1885, three years after the passage of the Chinese Exclusion Act and six years before Plessy v Ferguson. Regardless of what the California Supreme Court might decide, public sentiment was on the side of the San Francisco school district. Determined to keep out this “invasion of Mongol barbarism”, the California State Legislature passed a law permitting separate schools for Chinese children, which then allowed Principal Hurley to reject Mamie Tape once more.

While Mamie was rejected from the Spring Valley Elementary School for being Chinese, she also had a hard time fitting in to the Chinese public school. The Chinese merchants saw Western education as something primarily for boys. (Their girl children learned from their mothers at home.) Mamie, a girl dressed in Western clothes, would have stood out like a sore thumb. The final panel of the comic was based on a photo from three years later, and even then, Mamie was the only girl.

Places where I fudged the history: Frank, Mamie’s younger brother, was actually six years old and should have been more present in the comic, but I wante to keep the focus on Mamie and Mary. Also, Mamie had actually shown up to her first day of school in Western clothes. An earlier draft of the comic had a separate arc involving Mamie feeling rejected at school and Mary buying her some Chinese clothes, but that got too long and complicated.

Much of this was drawn from Mae Ngai’s book about the Tape family and their experiences as 2nd and 3rd generation Chinese Americans, titled “The Lucky Ones.”

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Here is Mary Tape's letter to the San Francisco School Board, 1885:

1769 Green Street. San Francisco, April 8, 1885. To the Board of Education - Dear Sirs: I see that you are going to make all sorts of excuses to keep my child out off the Public schools. Dear sirs, Will you please to tell me! Is it a disgrace to be Born a Chinese? Didn’t God make us all!!! What right have you to bar my children out of the school because she is a chinese Decend. They is no other worldly reason that you could keep her out, except that. I suppose, you all goes to churches on Sundays! Do you call that a Christian act to compell my little children to go so far to a school that is made in purpose for them. My children don’t dress like the other Chinese. They look just as phunny amongst them as the Chinese dress in Chinese look amongst you Caucasians. Besides, if I had any wish to send them to a chinese school I could have sent them two years ago without going to all this trouble. You have expended a lot of the Public money foolishly, all because ofa one poor little Child. Her playmates is all Caucasians ever since she could toddle around. If she is good enough to play with them! Then is she not good enough to be in the same room and studie with them? You had better come and see for yourselves. See if the Tape’s is not same as other Caucasians, except in features. It seems no matter how a Chinese may live and dress so long as you know they Chinese. Then they are hated as one. There is not any right or justice for them. You have seen my husband and child. You told him it wasn’t Mamie Tape you object to. If it were not Mamie Tape you object to, then why didn’t you let her attend the school nearest her home! Instead of first making one pre tense Then another pretense of some kind to keep her out? It seems to me Mr. Moulder has a grudge against this Eight-year-old Mamie Tape. I know they is no other child I mean Chinese child! care to go to your public Chinese school. May you Mr. Moulder, never be persecuted like the way you have persecuted little Mamie Tape. Mamie Tape will never attend any of the Chinese schools of your making! Never!!! I will let the world see sir What justice there is When it is govern by the Race prejudice men! Just because she is of the Chinese decend, not because she don’t dress like you because she does. Just because she is descended of Chinese parents I guess she is more of a American then a good many of you that is going to prewent her being Educated. Mrs. M. Tape

[hannie-dul-set]

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [3].

SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.

PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, talks about stalking, talks about death, data privacy violations, so much emotional whiplash yummy, a very long conversation, google dependent historical information. WORD COUNT. 6.3k.

NOTE. this chapter finally made its way out hell 😭😭😭 per usual, please let me know your thoughts on the chapter! a single comment on ao3 inspired me to finish this, so ur feedback really means a lot! enjoy<3

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 3 — can we go back to being parasocial?

IF SOMEONE HEARS YOUR SUMMARY OF THE EVENTS THAT UNFOLDED WITHIN THE PAST FEW DAYS, they may accuse you of lying. Delusional, even. You’d think the same had you not been the center of it all— yet the proof is in your pockets. Your phone. In the album Choi Yeonjun failed to sign, stuffed inside your bag at the last minute before you left your apartment earlier.

The summary. Right. Yes.

“Can they stop sharing that video of Yeonjun excessively flirting with a fan?! I’m going to kill myself if I see it one more time.”

You were lucky enough to nab a fansign slot. But instead of getting Choi Yeonjun’s signature, you ended up getting a kiss of a hand instead, along with a scrawl of numbers on your album that you’re far too terrified to try to dial.

“Hey, send me our photo with Soobin the other day,” nudges Huening from beside you. “I’m gonna print it out and put it in a locket and use it as a family heirloom.”

You bumped into one of your favorite actors, Choi Soobin, in the middle of a late night convenience store run with your friends to fuel your group all nighter, stained his shirt with your ice cream, and got a photo with him in the process.

“By the way, have you called the business card yet? What are you gonna do with your broken phone screen?”

And Choi Beomgyu may or may not have professed his undying love for you, asked for your hand in marriage, and started crying in front of you in less than ten fucking minutes.

“She’s zoned out.”

The problem is, you can’t even bask in the delightful absurdity of it all because one common thread from all those three separate instances has been keeping you up for nights. It’s clawing at your brain, lingering in the back of your mind like an incessant stalker— which, mind you, is not a pleasant feeling when the very causes of such disturbance were once the bringers of joy and all things good in your otherwise meaningless life as a cog in the capitalist machinery that is society.

“Hello? Are you awake?”

Said problem being the fact that you’re pretty sure they all called you by your name at one point.

How the fuck do they know your name?

“I deleted Twitter. I Airdropped it to you. No, I have not called it yet. Now please let me think in peace.”

Crazy. This is all too crazy. In the first place, what are the odds that you bump into three celebrities within one week’s time? Is this some sort of prank, or something? Are those three filming a hidden camera show together? No, no. That couldn’t be because there’s no fucking way a company is sane enough to stage a risky hidden camera prank during a fansign knowing full well how obsessive and insane fans can get. You’re lucky your face wasn’t caught in any of the videos circulating online— video of you and Choi Yeonjun, mostly him, acting out a fucking sageuk. You’re lucky you haven’t been doxxed yet.

“Finish your sandwich,” Taehyun clicks his tongue, nudging your food closer to you, and you sigh heavily. Maybe you’re just wrong, you think, taking a bite from the bread. Maybe this is just a misunderstanding. Maybe you’re just overthinking.

You eat your lunch and steal some wet wipes from Gaeul in between. Right. It’s not like you’re ever gonna bump into them again. You live in, as cliche as it sounds, two different worlds after all. You’re just gonna watch their dramas, listen to their music, enjoy their performances, and that’s it that’s it that’s it.

“Prof Jang sent a message. Class is canceled.”

But still—

“Woohoo! Let’s go to the new dessert shop that opened downtown.”

Choi Beomgyu’s voice saying I love you, Choi Soobin’s cologne wafting in the air you were breathing in, and Choi Yeonjun’s lips pressed against your skin.

How can a sane person just forget about all of that?!

“Why do you look like you’re fantasizing about perverted shit?” Woohyun slaps you in the face with a reality check. This is fucking stupid.

“I’m not fantasizing,” you grunt, because they were events that actually fucking happened— they weren’t birthed from your brain’s insanity. “Anyway, dessert? Where is it?” You ignore your burning face, hoping that your friends decide to ignore it too, but Gaeul has her eyes narrowed at you. Crap. She didn’t recognize that it’s you in the videos right? Holy fucking hell, you’d rather die.

“Aren’t you gonna answer that?”

Oh. Well. That’s— that’s something. A good something because she hasn’t suspected you yet, moitioning instead to your cracked phone that has been buzzing under your notice because you’ve been thinking way too fucking much.

You check the caller ID, but it’s an unknown number, and it doesn’t match the business card you got from your run in with the alleged Choi Beomgyu. “Hello?” you answer, and a voice you don’t recognize says your name and asks if it’s you. “Yes, this is her. Who’s this?”

Another item added to the weird as fuck things that happened to your this week. You excuse yourself from your friends, and with knitted brows, you listen to the stranger at the other end of the line. “You met Choi Soobin the other day at a 7-Eleven in Gangnam, right?” The fuck? Did someone see you that day? Is this a stalker? “This is his manager. Lee Byeongho. I would like to speak with you regarding a certain matter.”

Now, hold the fucking phone.

“Is everything alright?”

You respond to Huening’s concern with a stiff smile before turning away from them. “Did I do something wrong?” you fuss into the call. “I didn’t post any of the photos from that day. I never talked about it online either, and I’m pretty sure my friends haven’t either. Wait. Wait a minute. How did you get my number?”

“Yes, it was difficult to obtain knowing only your first name and university.” That doesn’t answer your question. That just gave you more questions. “But, no. You aren’t in trouble. Actually...I called because you’re the only one who can help us— help Soobin— get out of trouble.”

Your face scrunches up.

“I’m at your campus right now. Parking lot. Do you mind meeting me for a moment?”

Just what did you get yourself into?

“You haven’t finished your food. Where are you going?”

“Somewhere,” you reply, quickly snatching your half-eaten sandwich from the table as your friends follow your swift movements with matching looks of confusion. “I’ll be right back. It’s nothing, don’t worry.” However, you are quite worried. You’re pretty sure Lee Manager, or whatever, is committing some data privacy crimes against you, but the one thing you want at the moment is answers. Your brain is about to explode from all the fucking questions and confusion. There’s a sliver of hope that meeting up with this sketchy guy can answer a few of them. You’d take that chance to air out your head.

There’s a black van in the parking lot. It’s the first thing you noticed because one of its doors are open, and there’s a familiar looking guy waiting just in front of the exposed seats. 

He notices you approaching. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says. What’s with men you’re meeting for the first time treating you with familiarity? You’re going to rip your hair out and throw yourself into moving traffic.

“Sure, but can you get to the point?” you stiffly say. “I’m a little busy. I still have classes in a bit.”

“Of course, I’m sorry. This whole situation must’ve come off as a shock to you.” Great, now you’re feeling bad. Soobin’s manager (allegedly) looks like he’s been through a whole lot as well. “Anyway. You are a fan of Choi Soobin, correct?”

“Well,” you blink. “Yes.”

“How about the dramas Kang Jaehee has written and directed?” he follows up. “Are you a fan of those as well?”

Your brows furrow. “I guess?” Peach Tree. That Summer. Mogi. Those are the titles that come right at the top of your head. “What does that have to do anything with me?” Manager Lee spares you a look of pity. You feel like this meet-up is just set out to making you even more fucking confused.

“I sincerely apologize. I didn’t want to drag you into this either, but I’m afraid you’re the only option I have,” says Manager Lee despondently. “Since...since you are a fan of Soobin, and I assume that means you also care about his career, so—”

He pauses. Like he’s practicing the next set of words he’s about to say inside his head.

“—do you mind meeting up with him to convince him to take the lead role for Kang Jaehee’s upcoming drama?”

But nothing could’ve prepared you for that.

What.

What the fuck?

“Mr Manager. Sir,” you start, appalled beyond comprehension. “I’d appreciate it if you start making a bit more sense.” 

“Trust me, I can’t believe I’m doing this either.”

You’re speechless. Your mouth is hanging open with no words coming out because, again, what the fuck? Manager Lee looks just as defeated as you, as if he weren’t the one who had just presented that ridiculous proposal. You are, quite frankly, at a discernible loss. 

Manager Lee lets out a sigh and digs a hand into his pocket. “I’m afraid this is all the time I have today. But please contact me once you’ve made a decision.” Another business card acquired. This is just dandy. “I am really hoping for your cooperation, miss. I’m sure you’re aware of Soobin’s inactivity lately, and my intention of approaching you today is simply in order to help my star’s career. Please consider the favor positively, and we will compensate you as much as my authority can allow.”

With that, you’re left with another laminated piece of paper in your hands. Gosh. This is a headache. When you get back to your friends, they notice the distress you’re in, further justifying a visit to the new dessert store, and seeing how your soul has completely left your body, you’re dragged along with them with ease.

“Hey, pick one. My treat,” says Woohyun. You let out a grunt and point at a random pastry on display. Next thing you know, you’re seated in between Huening and Gaeul at the store you don’t even know the name of. 

Huening is force feeding you an eclair. “Eat.” Your scowl disappears when you allow the eclair entry into your mouth. “Seriously, what’s going on with you? Who did you meet earlier?” 

Seeing as you show absolutely no intentions of telling them, they refuse to question you about it further. Good on them, because there’s no way in hell you’re spilling your predicament. Not until you find out exactly what kind of situation you’re in, at the very least. The two business cards feel like they’re weighing your pockets down, a constant reminder of their existence along with the scrawl Yeonjun left behind.  

“I know exactly how to make you feel better.”

The declaration comes from Gaeul, who slides her phone over to you, and when you look down to see what exactly her miracle medicine is to make you feel less manic, you hack out a cough upon seeing Choi Yeonjun’s face on her phone screen. “The hell is wrong with you?” asks Taehyun from across, giving you some water to push down the eclair lodged in your throat. “I know you like him, but even that is an overreaction.”

Jesus, you’re close to losing it. When you’ve avoided choking to death, Gaeul puts an airpod into your ear, and you hear Yeonjun reading out some comments. “Choi Yeonjun, you look really happy lately, did something good happen? someone asked,” he says while having snacks of his own. “First of all, why are you calling me Choi Yeonjun? It’s like you’re putting a wall between us. I don’t like it.”

Gaeul makes a noise of some sort and had you not been subjected to this week’s insanities, you might have reacted the same way too. Instead, you simply listen to his live in caution, feigning disinterest as you watch him nibble on some pretzels and churros through the screen, continuing to answer the slew of questions in the comments.

“Anyway, you’re right! Something good did happen.” Yeonjun hums while picking out a pretzel from the paper bag, rustling noise and a lively tune filling the audio for a moment— a short moment, right before he continues speaking. “That’s because I finally met the love of my life.”

Taehyun has to give you his water again.

“Oh? Oho, what’s with the exclamation points?” he laughs. “Did I meet them the other day? Hmm...that’s a secret. You’re curious? You think it might be you? Well, let’s see. Should I describe her?”

“God, he’s so fucking messy,” says Gaeul from beside you. “This is why I like him. How many calls is he getting for his manager and company this time?”

“What’s going on? Why is she so startled?”

“Yeonjun’s talking about his apparent soulmate, I don’t know. Wanna listen?”

“Didn’t he get in trouble for doing the same thing last time too?”

Now, you’re not one to give a shit about his love life, and you like to stay out of that side of celebrity gossip as much as you can, but Choi Yeonjun himself is droning on about the love of his life right now. You can’t not hear about it even if you want to. However, as much as you want to let things come into one ear and out through the other, you can’t. Because— wait. Wait. His description is eerily familiar. His description is making you double take and second guess what you’re fucking hearing.

“Sounds a lot like you,” Taehyun remarks without much thought, right after Choi Yeonjun says that the girl he likes has a bit of an attitude, but he likes that about her.

Huening lets out a snort. “Yeah, that’s definitely you. Why don’t you go in a wedding dress the next time you attend a fansign? Who knows, you might have a shot.”

You snap them a dirty look. Fuck. This is making your head spin. For the second time, Choi Yeonjun’s tendency of putting himself into headlines and the trending searches for doing something insane is giving you nothing but stress.

“I did give her my number, but she hasn’t messaged me yet, so I’m quite hurt.”

Number. Hold on a fucking second.

“The comments are going crazy.”

You grab your bag from underneath you, dropping it down to your lap.

“Hey, if you’re watching this, pl—eeeeease contact me. Kim Noona thinks I have a phone addiction now because I’ve been dying waiting for your call.”

You quickly get up from your seat.

“Yo, where are you going this time?”

“I need a minute,” you announce, eyes scanning the store for a quiet place alone while hugging your bag to your chest. There’s nowhere. Looks like you have to get out. 

“Damn, we were just joking. As if you have a chance with a celebrity like him.”

Huening’s joke is ignored and you quickly leave outside the doors, making a sharp turn around the corner, slipping through the passersby downtown until you find an empty alley. Your heart is racing. Your heart is racing like crazy and you may be reaching right now. You may be acting crazy, but what Choi Beomgyu said during the interview with Yeong-Il the other day is echoing in your mind, and— in conjunction with everything else that had happened— you’re starting to think that maybe he wasn’t joking.

Your cracked phone screen greets you when you take it out of your pocket. On your other hand is the first business card you got this week.

“Who’s this?”

“Hello. Good day.” You tell them your name, the events that led up to you receiving this number, with the hope that maybe you’re finally on to something. “I’d like to talk about the compensation for my broken phone.”

Whatever that something is, you’re gonna get to the bottom of it.

*

It’s already beyond closing time at Kwiyeomdongmoim Cafe (a mouthful, you know), yet your pink apron is still neatly tied around your waist as you pace back and forth, to and fro, in circles inside the breakroom. The time is half-past nine in the evening. You should’ve clocked out thirty minutes ago, but you’re still waiting. 

The knock on the door signified the end of your wait. You turn to see your boss’s head popping in through the half-open crack. 

“Three guys are waiting for you,” informs Seokmin. “They all seem handsome. Are they your suitors?”

When you ditched your friends at the still unnamed dessert store the other day, you did it to make a few calls. Three, to be exact. Today is the culmination of those calls, which is why you’ve been erratically nervous the entire freaking day. Choi Soobin, Choi Beomyu, and Choi Yeonjun’s managers all answered respectively when you called all the sketchy numbers you got and made some negotiations (apparently, the mess on your album is Yeonjun’s number, but he got his phone confiscated after that livestream). 

“As if,” you say, walking up to the door leading back into the cafe. Suitors, more like stalkers. Fans stalking their idols is common, but the other way around is a pretty fresh idea. “Anyway, thanks, Kyeom. Thank you for letting me use the store for a while.” Because this is the only private place you can think of outside of your own home— and there’s no way in hell you’re letting them in there when you don’t even know how they managed to get hold of your personal information.

“We’re closed anyway.” Seokmin smiles and makes way for you to pass by. “Go ahead and do your thing. Do you want me to stay inside or keep watch?” 

“You can stay inside, it’s alright.” 

He nods. “Call me when you’re done. Scream if you need backup. I can handle all of them.”

You laugh and thank him once more, a pat on his arm before you decide to peek out the door first as a precautionary measure. From your spot, you can see three thoroughly covered men in windbreakers, caps, and masks sitting on three separate tables in the store. The blinds have already been rolled down, so you can’t see anything outside, but there doesn’t appear to be any cameras around, so you take it as a safe sign to finally leave your hiding spot.

The moment you do, the break room door creaks, and all three pairs of eyes immediately fall on you. 

They stand up. They call out your name in unison.

Holy shit.

And when they do, they all look at each other with a sudden flash of hostility in the air.

Um. Well. How are you supposed to do this? “H—hello,” you manage to squeak out, prompting their attention once more. Soobin takes off his cap and removes his mask, the other two following suit, and oh my god. Oh my god. You suck in a deep breath. Today, you are not a fan. You are an interrogator. This is not a fansign. This is an interrogation. 

“I— uh, I asked your managers if I can meet you all to—today for a specific reason.” Wow. Good job. Your hands are shaking and you can’t look up from the floor or else you’d start losing your mind. “But—but, before that— would...would you like some drinks…?”

Interrogation paused. You need to get your shit together first.

“Please enjoy.”

With the help of your boss (because your hands wouldn’t stop shaking and you dropped the first one you made), you managed to whip up four iced teas and settle all three of them into one table at the very back of the store. You send a stiff smile at Seokmin after he placed all the drinks on the table.

God, you owe him so much— especially when he’s being unreasonably glared at by the three men sitting with you right now. Choi Beomgyu to your left, Choi Soobin to your right, Choi Yeonjun directly across from you and holy fuck, you have yet to look at them properly yet for your own safety. They haven’t been talking to each other either, simply sitting and waiting for you to speak. You’re pretty sure they know each other though, at least by name, being in the same industry and all. 

To say that the tension in the air is suffocation would be an understatement. How...how do you start this? The fuck should you say first?

“You know, I was really happy when Kim Noona told me you called.”

Apparently you don’t have to start it. Choi Yeonjun does it for you.

“But why are these two crashing our date?”

And that’s when things also start to get messy.

“Date?” Choi Soobin interjects. He sounds offended. Why does he sound offended. “What are you talking about?”

Choi Yeonjun doesn’t get a chance to make his case. Because Choi Beomgyu from your left suddenly snatches one of your hands from the table, prompting you to look at one of them for the first time tonight, and your eyes fly wide open. “I’d...like to apologize for the other day. I was just overtaken by my emotions. I hope you weren’t too freaked out.”

You are quite freaked out because holy shit, this is too much maybe. Not maybe. Yes. This is too much. Too. Much.“Hey, why are you holding her hand?!” you hear Choi Soobin exclaim from your other side. Choi Beomgyu’s soft expression suddenly disappears into a glare and a sneer the moment he shifts his gaze.

“You’re holding her hand too!”

“Why can’t I?!”

“Hey, this isn’t fair! One of you switch with me—”

Dizzy. You’re feeling dizzy. Your head is spinning and you’re suffocating from the heat emanating from your very face. Whatever they’re arguing about isn’t even reaching your ears anymore. You’re getting lightheaded and your sweaty hands start slipping out from the two’s weirdly tender hold on your hands because your body is physically breaking down.

“Shut up! Oh my god, my head—”

Your vision actually starts spinning for a second so you quickly bring the bottom of your palms to your temples, elbows on the table to balance yourself, only to be wobbled and shaken because the three suddenly jolted off their seats in panic.

“Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine, just please—for the love of god— sit down and shut up.”

They sit down and shut up. You massage your temples in silence. You remove your hands from your face and, after sucking in a deep breath and releasing it thereafter, feel your heartbeat settling into a normal rate. As normal as it can get in this situation.

“Whew. Okay. I think I’m ready. Let’s get down to business.” Finally, you’re the one steering the conversation. You give each of them a once over as quickly as possible because now you know that prolonged eye contact will only hurt you. You settle with looking at the gaps between each of them. That’s fine. You’re fine. “Choi Soobin, Choi Yeonjun, Choi Beomgyu.”

It’s like three bulbs just lit up in succession. Your brain is starting to hurt.

“A—as I was saying, you three are some of South Korea’s biggest celebrities and although I am, in fact, a big fan of all three of you—” Why is Choi Soobin growing pink. Why the fuck is he blushing. “—that— that does not make me fail to recognize the amount of weird shit that’s been happening lately, and I think I need answers.”

They are still sitting down and shutting up. They listen to instructions well, at the very least.

“First, how the fuck did all three of you know my name without any prior introduction. Second—”

The words get clamped in your throat. It’s lodged in there very tightly because you make the mistake of looking one of them in the eye, only to notice that all three of them are looking at you with the same expression. An expression you can only describe as longing.

And your face starts burning.

“Se— second, why…why do you all keep looking at me like I’m an ex you want to get back together with…?”

Maybe you asked the wrong question.

Because for some reason they all look sad now. Really sad. Really fucking sad and it’s making your stomach clench and nerves all numb and funky because making three big celebrities all sad simultaneously is a bragging right at one end of the spectrum, and a national crime at the other.

It’s Choi Soobin who cracks the silence. “I…I had a feeling when I saw you again for the first time at the store.” Again? “Do you not remember me?”

Your face furrows. “No…? Did we ever meet before you became an actor?”

Hurt. The look of sadness has now spiraled into hurt and one might think you just stabbed and twisted a knife into his fucking gut.  “How—how about me?” Your attention turns to Choi Yeonjun who isn’t looking any better. It’s like his entire world view was just proven to be wrong and why does it feel like you’re the one to blame. 

What else can you do but shake your head in denial? Now he looks like he’d just been told he’s adopted!

“You’re…you’re joking,” he tries to laugh it off, but it only comes off as strained and shaky, then, in one fell swoop— desperate. “R—right…?”

“Great!”

Before you start feeling even shittier, Choi Beomgyu finally decides to join in. 

“And here I thought her forgetting about me was the worst case scenario.” His tone is bitter. There’s a snap in his words. “I didn’t think there’d be other bastards in the same situation as me. God fucking damn it.”

There’s a moment of silence. You watch as realization hits the other while you’re still left in the dark. Choi Yeonjun juts his seat closer. Choi Soobin tries to reach a hesitant arm to your direction, but you’re  tugged to the other side by Choi Beomgyu, who’s suddenly a little too, too close.

“Hey.”

Your hands are clamped together. 

“I meant it when I said I love you. I do. I have loved you four hundred years ago and I still love you now, and if whatever god or deity decides to make you meet you for the third time, I’ll still love you then.”

Beomgyu’s holding both of them in between his in a firm grip.

“Second life is about you. Blue Spring is about you. You’re the person I’ve been waiting for from the beginning of this life until the last.”

Now, if this situation wasn’t crazy, your heart would be skipping a beat right now.

But it is crazy. This is fucking insane. And you look around to see that there’s a weird look of sympathy and understanding in the other Choi’s eyes, clearly not recognizing the visceral insanity of this situation, which fills you with a swallowing lump of existential dread. You pry your hands out of Beomgyu’s grasp (you swear you can hear glass breaking), and slowly turn to Choi Yeonjun and say, with a very hesitant, very cautious, “Y...you too…?”

The look on his face says it all. And then you swivel over to Choi Soobin.

“And you?” 

“I’ve lo—”

“No!” you snap. “Don’t finish that sentence. Please. Oh my god.”

You see Seokmin popping his head out from the corner, mouthing an are you okay? and you shakily bring up a weak thumbs up. “Well, isn’t this interesting,” you hear Choi Yeonjun say, which feels like a slap in the face because what exactly is interesting about this. “Here I thought I was special.”

“Get off your high horse,” retorts Choi Soobin, a sneer in his voice. You double take. Choi Soobin is supposed to be sweet and gentle and kind. Who is this man? “Whatever kind of past you had with her doesn’t mean anything. I met her first. I met her at the end of King Danjong’s rule.”

“Ha!” Choi Yeonjun starts. “We got married under King Taejong. I’ve loved her before any of you did.”

Now, what the fuck?

Choi Soobin’s face pales and he chokes over his words. “M—married?”

There’s a smug grin on Choi Yeonjun’s face. He leans back against the chair with his arms crossed in victory. “You heard that correctly. Married. Pack up your bags. Unless you want me to tell you everything we did on our we—”

“Shut up, shut up, I don’t want to hear it!”

Marriage. King Danjong. King Taejong. Second life. The gears are churning inside your head. You don’t like the direction where the gears are pointing.

“What about you?”

Choi Yeonjun raises the question and the attention is now on Choi Beomgyu. He’s been quiet. The other two wait for him to say his piece— a feigned air of disdain and arrogance but there’s an unconcealable undertone of nervousness underneath it all. Your iced teas have been left untouched. Choi Beomgyu simply scoffs and presses his crossed arms against his chest.

“I have no reason to tell you any of that. This is between me and her.”

And at your mention, you receive the undivided attention of three pairs of eyes once more. Your heart rattles. God fucking damn it. Listen, you’re an avid consumer of the entertainment industry. You’ve watched a good amount of dramas and have read a good amount of manhwas to surmise a conclusion with the bits and pieces of stray information being tossed back and forth between the three. And it’s all ridiculous. But you have nothing else to work with unless they come spilling their guts themselves.

“So,” you clear your throat. “Are you three, like…a couple…hundred years old…?”

They all look offended. 

“No!”

Well, maybe you’re wrong about that part. But after a very long, convoluted discussion, the “facts” (if you can even call it that), are finally laid down on your feet.

They say you’ve all met before. Separately, in three separate lifetimes, with this one allegedly being your fourth unless there were lives in between that they can’t remember. One thing for certain is that the three of them remember the life they had while loving you— and they loved you very much apparently because those feelings and memories got carried over even after they got reborn into the present day.

The problem is, you don’t have the same symptoms. You don’t remember anything about your past lives. Hell, you can’t even remember anything in this life before you hit two years old. 

You slump in your seat. The table rattles. They get up from their chairs and come circling around you in concern.

“Are— are you okay, do you need to lie down? You could rest in my van for a while and—”

You swat Choi Yeonjun’s hand away before it could land on your shoulder. You’ve now got your hands on your face in stress, and peeking through you see Choi Soobin on your right, crouching down and looking up at you with furrowed brows and big, sad eyes. On your left is Choi Beomgyu, half-seated on the chair. You let out a very long, very anguished and muffled groan. This is too much. “If— if what you guys are saying is true,” you say. “What does it matter?”

There’s a tense pause in the air. 

“What do you mean…?”

You spring up from your seat and turn around, Choi Yeonjun in front of you. 

“I mean what does it all matter? King Sejeong, Joseon era, or whatever— I don’t care about all of that. We’re in the twenty-first century right now. I’m neither your lover nor your wife. I’m just a fan of your dramas and music and performances and that's it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t really want to see their faces right now. You let a huff of air slip past your lips, turning back around to collect the untouched glasses of drinks on the table.

“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet me and explain. I hope it’s all settled. Thanks for clearing everything up today. You can now all leave.”

It’s Choi Yeonjun who races after you when you make your firm and quick strides to the counter. He cuts off your path. “I—I don’t understand,” he chokes out. You make the mistake of meeting his gaze and see the threat of tears glazing his eyes. “What—what do you mean?”

Admittedly, that hurled a giant pang against your ribcage, knocking the air out of your chest, but you move forward. You brush past him, setting the glasses back on the counter, and— after a moment’s pause— you turn around, a heavy weight on your shoulders. It’s like gravity is trying to suck you deep into the mantle. “What I’m trying to say is we should all just get over what happened all those hundreds of years ago and live our lives in the present. I mean, I don’t know any of you. Don’t you think it’s unhealthy to keep clinging onto the past, especially when you guys are nothing but strangers to me in this life?”

Dead silence. You don’t dare look at any of them in the face. You try and retreat to the break room as quickly as you can, hands fumbling to untie your apron along the way, but you stumble over your steps, screeching to a halt the moment you hear someone say—

“Do you think it’s that easy?”

You could hear your heart in your eardrums. 

It takes all the strength in your body for you to look back, to see the pained expression on Choi Beomgyu’s face standing the farthest away from you out of the three. “Do you think I put my name out there so that it’d be easier for you to find me, wrote all those songs about you in the hopes that I could see you again if you’re someone I can just easily forget?”

Your throat tightens. It’s like you’re swallowing a boulder.

“If you wanted me to forget about you, you shouldn’t have died right in front of me then. You shouldn’t have told me you loved me right before you went cold in my arms if you wanted me to fucking forget.”

Oh.

Oh, god.

Choi Yeonjun and Choi Soobin don’t look any better. It hits you that you might have been more than a little bit unfair.

“I’m sorry.”

You don’t know your history. You don’t know what the fuck happened between you and them throughout those years that made them feel so strongly about you. But it must be harder for those who remember than for those who forgot.

It’s not like they chose to live in the present with half of their souls stuck in the past, either. You’ve been acting awfully unfair.

“I was being insensitive. I’m so sorry,” you exhale. Your knees feel like they’re about to buckle. Your head is spinning in circles. “But to be honest, this is all still very overwhelming, and I’m having a hard time comprehending and making sense of everything. It doesn’t feel real.” You try to take a step closer, but your legs give in. Choi Yeonjun quickly rushes to balance you back on your feet.

“Don’t push yourself,” he says, softly. You can’t look at him. God, these guys really know how to bring your guilt all the way home.

“Thanks, um, anyway—” You breathe in. Shit, you can’t believe you’re considering this. “Again, I really can’t and won’t be able to understand the magnitude of your— well, uh— feelings, since I really don’t remember anything. But how about…I spend some time with each of you individually, and maybe…maybe it can help in jogging back my memories?”

The atmosphere shifts. Ah. This feels like a fucking trap.

“You— you mean it?”

To be honest, you’d much rather just not deal with any of this, just stay at home and continue living your life with these three men as persons you only know behind the screen. But those looks in their eyes— hopeful and melancholic— make you feel your organs are being rearranged every five seconds, and you’d feel bad leaving them with the pain of this conversation especially after they poured out their hearts to you.

You can’t deny the joy and escape they’ve given you for the past couple of years you’ve spent as their fan. Maybe entertaining this unreality is the least you can do.

“I mean, well,” you start, clearing your throat. “Choi Beomgyu, you still need to pay for my phone. Choi Soobin, your manager wanted me to talk to you about something, and Choi Yeonjun—”

You look at the guy who still has one arm pressed against your back, two hands in a firm grip on your shoulders. He’s looking at you and batting his eyes expectantly. You let out a sigh and set yourself loose.

“I need to discuss something with you soon, too.” As in, please stop vaguely mentioning me in your live streams because I fear I might find an angry mob in front of my house. “I think I have all your contact information anyway.”

There aren’t any more reactions coming from them. This seems like the best possible solution for all of you. You sigh again. This has been an emotionally draining evening. You can’t wait to get some fucking rest.

“I’ll be in touch with you or your managers soon. For now, let’s call it a day.”

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[avocado-writing]

For nightingale, aziraphale, and Crowley, could you write something with them going on holiday or honeymoon to a museum or historical site, and remembering old times together? Maybe they discover one of them in the background of a historic photo or they’re mentioned in a piece of writing or turn up in a painting or a statue? I just need more of those 3 so whatever you feel like, dealers choice <3

aziraphale x reader x crowley (good omens)

third chapter of this. kissing you on the lips anon for requesting it.

rated M for light smut.

1.5k words.

if you like what I do, here’s my ko-fi!

Your marriage is a quiet little affair.

It has to be, really. Can’t have a big crowd wondering how three people are able to all wed each other. It’s hard enough miracling the registrar to not notice anything out of the ordinary, let alone worrying about having a bunch of guests second-guessing the technical legality of the thing. 

Luckily, it all goes reasonably smoothly. The registry office isn’t busy on a Thursday afternoon, it doesn’t take long to get in and out. Yes, all three of you sign these documents, that’s absolutely fine. Congratulations and I hope you have a happy future together.

Rings on fingers, plain gold wedding bands binding the three of you to each other. Chaste, meaningful kisses and wide smiles.

Being married to them doesn’t feel any different, but then again you suppose it wouldn’t. You’ve been together for longer than any human has ever been alive. You were all practically married anyway, getting the paperwork done was just… the cherry on top.

“Well, now what do we do?” you ask, stepping out onto the busy London street. Aziraphale and Crowley take a moment to consider this question, as if they hadn’t really thought about it either.

“Lunch?” the angel says, just as the demon replies “bed?”

You laugh, and the three of you end up doing one and then the other.

Crowley kisses you both hard the moment that the bookshop door shuts, pausing only to flip the sign firmly to ‘very closed’. You trap Aziraphale between your bodies, knowing how much he loves to be showered with attention, and strip off as you retreat through the nonfiction section to the well-loved sofa in the break room.

It feels like there isn’t time to go upstairs. It’s time to consummate this marriage here, now. 

“Come on, angel,” you hum as Crowley sheathes himself inside him, making Aziraphale’s eyes roll in pleasure, “like Geoff wrote, ‘In wyfhode I wol use myn instrument as frely as my Makere hath it sent’.”

Despite the overstimulation as you sink down on him, Aziraphale laughs. Crowley cocks an eyebrow.

“What on earth are you going on about?”

“Inside joke, I suppose,” you reply wickedly, before silencing any further questioning with a kiss across Aziraphale’s shoulder.

When you’re done breaking in the marriage bed - after you finish breaking in the marriage couch and then the marriage kitchen counter - the three of you lie together, limbs tangled, the two of them feeling you breathe. 

“You know what we should do?” you eventually pipe up, lost between twisting your fingers in Aziraphale’s curls and running your hand up the length of Crowley’s thigh.

“Look, I’m happy to go again, just give me ten minutes,” Crowley murmurs. You almost get caught up in it as the angel plants a kiss on your bare shoulder, but snap yourself back to reality before they can delay your train of thought further.

“No! - I mean, yes, but also, we should go on a honeymoon.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale says, lighting up, “That’s a wonderful idea. I can’t remember the last time the three of us took a holiday together. One where we didn’t have to also do some work, anyway.”

“It was Stockholm, nineteen-seventy-five,” Crowley states without missing a beat. The two of you both look at him, and it clicks.

“Oh god, it was, wasn’t it?” you laugh. Of course. Was it that long ago?

“The Eurovision final! Goodness, how on earth did we forget?”

“Repressing painful memories?” the demon suggests. It was one of those trips he’d clearly not been very pleased about, but insisted his chaperoning was better than the alternative of letting you and Aziraphale run wild around Sweden.

“I can’t believe you had a perm for that whole decade,” you say to Crowley, who just groans and slings his arm over his face to hide.

“I thought it was very fetching,” Aziraphale reassures, squeezing his husband’s - husband’s! - hand. 

“Well, why don’t we go somewhere a bit closer to home?” you suggest. “Somewhere like, I don’t know, Edinburgh?”

“I like Edinburgh. Well, apart from one statue, but we don’t have to go and see it I suppose,” Aziraphale agrees. The two of you look over to Crowley. He lifts his arm just enough for you to see the sparkle in his yellow eyes.

You set off a couple of days later in the Bentley, boot packed up tight with suitcases (none Crowley’s, one belonging to you, the rest Aziraphale’s; he insisted he needed to bring at least twenty books ‘just in case’). With Crowley’s driving the eight hour journey takes about five, and soon you’re at your little bnb planning how you’re going to spend the week.

And it’s lovely. You do all the touristy things, the guided tours, the hidden gems, and slowly making your way around what feels like every pub in the city. You and Aziraphale eat a quite astonishing number of lunchtime finger sandwiches, and Crowley takes you out dancing to a little hole-in-the-wall joint he had a hand in founding a couple of decades ago. Your heart is full and you realise over and over again just how lucky you are to be able to spend your life with the two people you love most in this universe.

On the last day, you finally do the big one: Edinburgh Castle. You’ve been in there but only once, and that was a couple of hundred years ago. It’s changed but not as much as you thought: it’s nice to see the conservation work people are doing in old places like these. Saving little pieces of the past.

You’re walking through one of the little side corridors - a place you’re probably not meant to actually be on the tour, but one of your husbands has a way of making locked doors open and the other is very good at getting people to forgive you if you’re found going through them.

Up ahead they’re bickering. About what you can’t say. You’ve learnt to tune it out unless it’s about something actually important. Despite that you almost miss it, walk right past the bloody thing - but then you catch the flash of paint out of the corner of your eye and do a double-take.

Your mouth drops open.

“Oh my god. You two, come here and take a look at this!”

Aziraphale and Crowley halt their quibbles and double back to stand at your side. They’re both as shocked as you are.

“Oh,” Aziraphale gasps.

“Huh,” Crowley mutters.

“It’s us,” you state.

It is. An oil painting, ancient. The only description is a tiny plaque which sits beneath it in tiny lettering: a portrait of a gentleman and two ladies, c 1665. No more information is given, which is clearly why it’s been delegated to a back room rather than hung in somewhere more important.

But there’s no mistaking it: Aziraphale in his white jerkin and doublet, Crowley in a black dress with his hair down, and you in the middle. Dressed in rich colours, heavy jewellery hanging off you. Your lovers hold either one of your hands in theirs, the three of you looking out serenely towards the viewer.

“We commissioned this for your birthday in sixteen-sixty-five. Do you remember, Nightingale?”

You nod. Yes, you remember the two of them trying to surreptitiously get you to pose while someone caught your likeness in a sketch to transfer later to canvas. Portrait sittings were an exhausting thing and there was no way they were going to trick you into believing anything else was going on.

“I thought it was destroyed,” you whisper, gobsmacked. The three of you had lived in a little London townhouse around the time, when your relationship was still young. And yes, a birthday present it was: right before the great fire of London had broken out. You’d had to evacuate the city as quickly as you could, no time to save anything as unwieldy as a painting.

But clearly it hadn’t burned. Someone had saved it - or nicked it, more likely, before the blaze got to it - and now it ended up here. In this corridor. Where the three of you had just happened to trespass to find it.

“Miraculous,” Aziraphale breathes, and you can only agree.

“Should we try to get it back?” Crowley asks. “I’m sure there’s someone I can blackmail in this castle.”

“No. No, let’s leave it. I quite like it here. A little piece of us somewhere, preserved in time, you know? It’s lovely. Besides,” you turn to your husbands, “I get to have the two of you every day now.”

The three of you take a moment to let the idea soak in; and then you kiss in the quiet of the castle corridor. Happy. Looking forward to the future you’re now allowed to live.

“Now,” you announce after a beat, “I think we’d better get some lunch and then I’m going to go and graffiti that statue of Gabriel. You’re welcome to join me.”

“Oh absolutely,” says Crowley just as Aziraphale tuts “certainly not!”

You talk him round though, and by that evening, he’s doodled a moustache on the smug archangel’s marble face with a sharpie.

[snek-panini]

Today I've got binderary book #3 to share! It's a lighthouse (burning) by books-and-omens. This is a really excellent canonverse (sort of) historical setting liminal ghost story-esque fic that I read practically in one sitting sometime last summer. It's fantastic, well-characterized, angsty and fluffy and fairly plotty and with some really unique worldbuilding. I honestly can't sing its praises enough; it's one of the only times since taking up this hobby that I've known I wanted to bind something before I actually finished reading it.

Have a look at the rest of the photos under the cut; this one came out really well and I'm in love with it.

For this cover we have lineco book cloth on the spine, a strip of chiyogami paper that I got in one one ChibiJay's random paper packs, and blue-gray sketch paper for the primary gray space. It's a little hard to tell in the photos but the HTV for the titles is in two different colors, silver for "a lighthouse" and pewter for "(burning)". The effect is more pronounced in person and I love it. The pewter came in a multi-pack of cricut foil HTV and I can't seem to find it on its own anywhere, which is a shame because it's beautiful. The sort of streaky effect on the cover was unintentional but I'm kinda liking it? It's a more porous paper for drawing or painting or something, and I tried to wax it for waterproofing, but when I used the heat press to get the title on the wax darkened in the spots where the glue was applied to the cover board. At first I was disappointed, but the fic features a really massive unnatural storm, and it sort of looks like water running down a windowpane, so I'm leaning into that and calling it an aesthetic. The back didn't get this heat treatment, so it doesn't have the pattern.

Top view, showing the bookmark and handmade end bands. The bookmark is a navy blue ribbon cut from the inside of a shirt, and I chose red and white because there are so many picturesque lighthouses that have red and white stripes. It's the only color in the book that's not blue or gray. The endpapers are a navy blue silk moire, and I had better luck with them than I did with the platinum ones on my Persuasion bind even though they are the same brand. Maybe it's practice or maybe navy just hides more sins than platinum.

For the title page I went fairly simple (for me anyway) with just a frame I pulled from rawpixel. It suits the story, though, being set sometime around or before the early 20th century. I also played with text colors on the title page, with some words being grayed out to mimic the effect on the cover. The section break is me getting clever with a feature of my printer. I often use a gray line to denote section breaks, but for whatever reason my printer doesn't like them and often makes them blurry. It is only these lines that come out blurry; larger images don't do this even if they are complex. So for this one, where a major feature of the story is trying to figure out what's real and what's a supernatural occurrence, I made one that was deliberately heavier in the center so it would come out sort of smoky or fuzzy, like it wasn't quite real and couldn't be clearly seen. It doesn't look this fuzzy in the unprinted file but I love the effect and I feel very clever for manipulating the printer like this.

I'm going to show off some interior shots but this bit contains spoilers for the story, so if you don't want to see that then maybe skip the rest of the post.

I wanted to get creative with my title placement since a lot of my binds look very similar inside, and this concept really let me try that out. The plot of the story is that the reason there are so many supernatural phenomena at this lighthouse is that someone in the future ran an experiment to harvest energy and accidentally cracked spacetime with it, and bits of the future and the past and the might-have-been are seeping through the cracks, and the longer the cracks exist the more seeps through them and the worse the ghostly stuff gets. At first it's not clear whether there's anything weird happening at all, and it becomes clearer that something is wrong the further in you get because the cracks are worse. So I had this idea for a vintage lighthouse illustration with an overlay of cracks in glass, that become more defined as the story progresses until something is done and they're sealed up in the end. I am not a visual artist and even this straightforward concept was too much for my skills, so I chose the lighthouse and the crack overlay and my amazing husband did the actual image manipulation. There are five different images, with the cracks invisible in the first and final chapter and most visible in chapter 10 and 11, when the characters are trying hardest to fix the problem. I'm really really proud of how well this turned out.

And that's it! I have several more binderary books to post but they are all still waiting for titles before I do the photos, so I don't know when I'll have them up.

[bluedalahorse]

off the cuff thoughts about the differences between being public and being recognized

Don’t hate me but I’m actually really interested in what kinds of delicious narrative tension Young Royals 3 is going to play with when it comes to the Wilhelm/Simon relationship not just being something that happens openly but something that is public. As in, a relationship that has a public presence and meaning, that is going to be consumed by the public in some way and evaluated under public scrutiny. As in something that the palace may attempt to curate and spin a certain way for the public eye.

In my mind, being “public” is different than just being “recognized” or just being “together” in a way that the people around you can see. In a show that’s a little more “slice of life” like Heartstopper (hate to use this as the contrast example but it was the first thing that comes to mind) there’s a lot of emotional stakes to Nick and Charlie calling one another boyfriends, and then being boyfriends in front of their friends and family. And generally it’s positive when they can take these steps of being more recognized by the people around them, because it allows for a lot more emotional honesty, self-expression, and self-acceptance. It’s also historically significant, given the way that queer couples in previous periods of history have at times been forced to live in the shadows.

For Wilhelm and Simon there’s emotional stakes to being recognized as a couple, especially as they try to reclaim agency for themselves in the wake of being violently outed. Yet Wilhelm’s position as crown prince means there’s going to be political stakes as well, and for that reason they can’t be recognized without also being public. And it feels very much like this emotional threads and these political threads are in conflict. Whether they like it or not, Wilhelm and Simon are symbols. I do wonder if Kristina and some of her associates at the palace will choose to openly support Wilhelm and Simon’s relationship, but also express a lot of opinions about how that relationship gets styled and posed in photo ops. The monarchy could want Wilhelm and Simon’s relationship to be a sign of their progressiveness, showing that they can adapt to the times while still remaining one of Sweden’s constants. But I admit I would absolutely devour a storyline where this is called out for the calculating PR move that it is, and not just written off as a message about cozy acceptance.

I also think it’s interesting how this idea of the public image of relationships applies to other characters in the show. Public scrutiny is something we think of affecting queer relationships a lot, but it impacts other types of relationships as well. So let’s go into the girls’ arcs for a little bit…

Felice is constantly under scrutiny for how people perceive her relationships to Wilhelm and August, and she is consistently negatively impacted by social expectations around female gender roles. People gossip about her being a gold digger when Wilhelm kisses her, for instance, despite Wilhelm initiating. Alternately, I think a lot about the shift between Felice and August’s initial hookup in 1.3, where Felice is in a bad place emotionally but at least has some agency in her anger and rage, and some of Felice and August’s early public appearances, such as when the headmistress expresses approval of them together and says August looks happier. There’s subtext here about Hillerska being the place where high status boys and girls meet one another to eventually marry, and about women managing the emotions of the men they’re in relationships with. And, what does August yell at Felice for? For not holding his grief for him when he’s sad about Erik, of course, and holding emotional space for Wilhelm instead. He expects her to be managing his emotions. This is not just August’s general toxic douchery (although there is that) but like, what adults and public expectations have socialized into him from birth. Now, Felice and August’s relationship was never going to be functional to begin with and it’s pretty damn dysfunctional in private, but that public pressure to behave according to certain roles made things even worse between them. It trapped Felice, too, because of the expectations that she act like a Good Society Wife to whoever she’s in a relationship with and not challenge him. That’s why Felice’s public instagram blast is so important. It’s not just a fun moment, but one where she stops playing the Nice Girl and says openly how fed up she is.

Meanwhile, in season 2, Sara and August’s relationship doesn’t have quite the same kind of dysfunction. But I’m really struck by the anxiety and fear that hits Sara during the scene in 2.4, when she overhears August’s phone call to the palace and the plans for the next ten years of his life. When Sara and August fight at the ball, we can see how worried she is about the idea of her relationship with August being under the PR microscope. Not just because she’s in a relationship with the guy who exposed her brother and was pretty shitty to her best friend (although, there is very much that) but because of the nature of public scrutiny in general. Sara is already looking ahead to the endless slog of press conferences and curated social media feeds, and she knows August wouldn’t be able to protect her from that because he is the reason she’d be getting that attention in the first place. Wilhelm wasn’t able to protect Simon, after all. She’s also got her eye on how the threat of attention is affecting August, making note of how he’s turned to unprescribed ADHD medication to stay on his feet. I think it’s incredibly smart of Young Royals have the canonically autistic and ADHD character be so aware of the psychic toll it takes to present a public persona, and to recoil from that horror when it’s offered to her by the person she most desires. (I also think that’s exactly why an AU fic where Sara ends up in that public princess-consort-to-be role would be so damn interesting. I don’t think we’ve seen that kind of story with an explicitly AuDHD character and I would honestly just be fascinated.)

To bring this back around to Wilmon… I do not want to ignore the historical significance of a queer prince having a recognized queer relationship, and I do think that is something that can come with moments of joy and happiness that I will enjoy as an audience member. At the same time, I think given what this show has chosen to say about relationships serving a public function, especially in ways that reinforce the class system, I am practically salivating to see what kind of commentary we will get about how this relationship gets packaged for the public. What kind of PDA is acceptable to the press? What terms are Simon and Wilhelm allowed to use to refer to one another in interviews? What kinds of places are they allowed to be seen together? What hobbies can they pursue? What colors is a queer prince allowed to wear? Is the pink sweater Wilhelm’s sign of rebellion, or was it imposed on him by stylists because they thought it made him approachable and quirky and accepted by his parents, and Wilhelm found himself liking it in spite of the imposition? Does Simon feel he can reclaim a sense of his own image, or does he feel like he’s being curated into something he’s not? What if Simon’s ideas for his future conflict with those of the palace’s? What then? How do they find their real relationship with one another when the people around them are always attempting to craft one?

I also wonder what our role will be as audience. We have been watching Simon and Wilhelm’s story for three seasons now. Will the show challenge some of our assumptions about true love and authenticity? Will it call us out for our voyeurism? To what extent are we complicit with the public scrutiny that governs the lives of Hillerska students and the upper classes? I am so curious to find out what season 3 has to say about us, even if it takes the form of criticism we aren’t expecting.

[britcision]

So I’ve been having a lot of the Organizing AuDHD lately, where I sit and obsessively sort things for just, a zillion hours

Things like 8 years worth of photos on my hard drive, all of my leather-working and sewing supplies into tackle boxes, grouping and organizing all of the paints and all of our craft closets, and sorting 2 years of CSP materials

(Aaaaand fully resorting and folding 3/10 fabric bins instead of just grabbing the fabric I needed to get started on a thing this is not remotely happening at convenient times)

And yesterday

Yesterday, I got my Granny’s old sewing cart

This thing had stuff in it older than my Granny herself

(Also a good 30% of grandma smell is sheep’s wool guess how I know now)

I’m talking packets of “hook and eye attachments” older than the brand for Velcro

Genuine lambswool threads from Scotland

British military surplus linen thread

This pic is actually after I already spent about 2 hours just separating and bagging things it was worse than this but here she is

So, yeah. Perfect timing. Organizing AuDHD paradise

Dragged all my sewing stuff back to the main room to redo it all again (but y’see I was smart the first time I just sorted my threads and left a space cuz I knew this lil cutie was coming)

And

Well

I promised my partner I’d clear the floors in between every time, and he has kindly offered to sort buttons for me cuz he’s also got Button Sorting ‘Tisms

(The BAGS of old buttons you guys. So. Many. Buttons.)

But. Uh. Here’s what it looked like while I was going

Featuring: my sewing box, Granny’s sewing caddy, both craft dressers, and the noble residents of Box Hell, aka every reasonably well conditioned box I have emptied for 7 years now doing duty sorting objects

(Also the paper patterns I was drafting onto broadcloth for cosplay but shhhh those are nearly done and super neat and out of the way)

And! And!

Four hours later, look!

All tidied away (for now)

I have officially sorted and rolled all of the ribbons (hers and mine)

I also discovered that that fucking massive cone of elastic does not in fact have a single fucking post in the middle there’s a tiny cardboard one that ends half way up and then it’s just a roll of PAPER

(That slid out while I unspooled about half of it to fix where the loops had been slipping off to coil it neatly again. It’s also at least two lengths of elastic but fuck it it’s in a cup now)

And! That little front drawer has been fully sorted and now holds the elastic, velcro, and zippers 😁

Most of the stuff from the main body of the caddy is at least sorted by types now, so the threads are all together and the snaps and hook and eyes all have baggies, but I haven’t touched the top two bits yet and I still gotta sort them baggies

But! I think I’ve found all the elastics and velcro and zippers! And ribbons!

And all the proper actual wool and nylons have their own bag because some of that shit feels like historical artefacts or something and I shouldn’t actually use it and just preserve it or something

It’s in really good condition and I’m a lil scared I’ll ruin it somehow and most of the ribbons are real silk and it’s just. Holy shit.

It’s so old

[nogenderbee]

Can you write the Genshin archons + Ganyu and Xiao with a teen reader who they basically watched grow up? Like they first met when reader was 6 and basically just went up to them with “idk who you are but we are now friends.”

you can remove Nahida if you’d like

also platonic obvs-

Yes, of course! I really hope I got that right and so I hope you'll enjoy <3

Venti, Zhongli, Raiden, Nahida, Ganyu, Xiao watching teen!reader grow

TW: small mention of drinking in Venti's part

⊱ Venti remembers that day you approached him like it was yesterday

⊱ he still recalls how you said you'll stick with him forever to enjoy his music, of course he thought get that you're joking because you were a kid back then but actually kept your promise

⊱ watching you grow up was so moving to him, especially if you also learned to play on instrument because of him

⊱ what am I saying... of course you learned how to play at least on his lyre!

⊱ he definitely cut on drinking since he didn't wanted to give child a bad example

⊱ you might haven't even noticed it but he did write a song about you and sang it publicly for people on Mondstadt

⊱ he definitely likes to go back to good old times and remember pleasent memories for both of you

"I remember how one day you borrowed my lure and gave a real performance in Tavern! And in exchange for good job, Diluc even gave you free juice!"

⊱ despite those happy memories, he can't help but be scared that he'll loose you some day like he did his dear friend

⊱ Zhongli has amazing memory so no wonder he remembers how you approached him with every little detail

⊱ he told it you and many others about how your relationship started from you asking him to tell you a story, then another one, and another one, and another one, and... yea you get the point

⊱ he literally remembers every single one of your memories and now he has even more stories to tell

⊱ he'll go back to your old memories all the time and tell you how you used to be when you were younger and how you slowly matured

⊱ you definitely become a smart teen thanks to spending time around him

"I'm very glad that you're satisfied with how we used to spend time together. And you really matured since back then."

⊱ but spending time around him didn't meant you have only historical experience, you also went on many trips around Liyue so you know your ways around this region

⊱ of course, the older you got, on more dangerous trips you two went but still not too dangerous

⊱ okey but if you walked up to Ei like she's not terrorizing Inazuma, she genuinely becomes interested in you but you'll have to come to her on your own couple of times

⊱ but once she takes real like of you, she slows down in on terrorizing Inazuma or just slows down with it around you

⊱ you probably were spending time with Miko as well, so you know both of them very well

⊱ but when she watches you grow, she can't help but feel like mother to you

⊱ don't expect her to cook you anything, if you'll want some food then you'd have to go get something in the city

⊱ she literally fed you with sweets at first all the time so it wouldn't be a surprise if it turned out that you have problems with teeth

⊱ she doesn't go back and tell you all the memories you had together if you won't ask her and if you, she still tells you the minimum, she simply doesn't see reason for it

"What you were like when you were a child? You were a normal child. Just like every other mortal."

⊱ but now in all honesty, she definitely keeps you in her "infinity space" was it how it's called? in order to make your time together last a little longer especially after remembering how fast mortals grow up

⊱ Nahida was extremely happy when you approached her and immediately proceed to take care and play with you

⊱ she remembers every little memory and also have album full of photos keeping those memories safe

⊱ so if you want her to remind you any memories from your childhood, you only have to tell her that and she'll take out the album full of photos

"In this photo, we were walking around Sumeru City streets and you a car seemed to take a like of you! In this one tho you..."

⊱ she definitely gets nostalgic often but she's also very proud of how mature you are now

⊱ she definitely was super soft and gentle towards you when you were a child and she still is when you're a teen

⊱ although you probably couldn't spend that much time with her, so she really appreciated every single second together with you

⊱ she knows very well how short mortals live so she wants you to have fun and appreciate your time together as much as she does

⊱ if you randomly walked up to Ganyu and just went like "we're friends now", she definitely was a little shocked at first but it changes as you spend more time together

⊱ she's actually so gentle with you as if you're made of porcelain that can break any second

⊱ it's not a secret that she's busy so you two probably didn't had that much time together

⊱ but sometimes even when she had work, she took you to her work place if you wanted and make sure you have something to play with

⊱ although she's not a big fan of bringing child to her work since you always managed to distract her to she usually spent time with you after she's done with her work

⊱ she remembers all memories very well, even the ones she doesn't want to remember...

"Did someone ever mistaken me for your mother?! W-Why don't we focus on other kind of memories?"

⊱ she definitely gets a little sad sometimes while thinking about how much time you have left but of course she never shows or mentions it in front of you

⊱ Xiao is always busy and avoids public eye so you must be really lucky to even catch him once

⊱ but since he watch you grow up, then you probably were really lucky and met him more then once

⊱ he knows mortal life isn't long but he only truly realizes it as he watches you grow up

⊱ he either watched you from afar or you were the reason he showed up more in public

⊱ he probably left you with Zhongli many times, especially at night since he usually has demons to defeat

⊱ but when you two spent some times together, he always was soft to you, although in public he probably was a little more harsh

"I was never soft for anyone. Including you! I just wasn't that rough towards you since you were a child."

⊱ of course he remembers every memory with you but won't tell you much unless you ask him to do so and even if, he still can't see why you want to know it so much

⊱ the truth is, he kind of doesn't want to remember the memories since that reminds him of how short mortal life is and that you won't be forever by his side

❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉

[onegirllis]

So, about the new LIS trailer

It took me some time, but forgive me for the delayed response. I had to dig myself out of the fandom grave to actually look around and notice what the hell was going on. I spent another moment pondering if I still care, and with the answer "barely," I came here to write this post.

1) For whatever reason DickNein (yes, I didn't miss the scandal, who is the nazi now?) still doesn't understand what made LIS 1 so successful. It wasn't the diversity; it wasn't the same copy-paste lines; it wasn't the murder; it wasn't the superheroes from small towns with different powers. It wasn't even the lesbians (I know, shocking!). There were merely a few elements that made LIS special: - Magical Arcadia Bay with its residents - The rewind time superpower, which was one of the best mechanics in narrative games since the genre was born - Max, Chloe, and Rachel (not necessarily in that order), and you need at least two to make it work, preferably with Chloe at least somewhere there. - the specific art style and saturated colors (butchered a bit in BTS but then going full SIMS 4 for the rest of the games) - and most importantly - the soul Sure, DontNod could get away with alteration, to no fanfare and sometimes to no success, but their experiments came from the right place. This shit ain't it.

2) For whatever reason, Chloe is now a dog. I know. I know. I understand. Listen, my fellow comrades, I know how it feels when the devs pull put shit like, "Oh, they were just friends and grew apart, but now she named her squirrel after the love of her high school life".

3) Max had plastic surgery. She also decided to be entirely anonymous so that she looked like everyone else. Every model looks the same, and I hope they will have their names spelled above them as they walk around. Otherwise, I have no idea who is who. Frankly, she looks a little bit like Steph had a lot of fun with the entire cast of Sims 4 and then had a baby.

4) On top of everything, the new Max, however, probably now goes as Maxine, is teaching her Polaroid skills at a university. Now we know we are in an alternative universe all along. I hope the tuition matches the useful photography skill set you obtain there.

5) For any other reason unknown, she can dress up as Chloe, who can be dead (see the Ultimate edition). I know Max has a long tradition of dressing up as dead people, but I hoped it would go away with her Botox and other plastic corrections. But hey, we survived Chloe dressing up as Rachel and cosplaying as her dad, too, so I guess I shouldn't even be surprised. Not that it's a low-budget movie, and they have a limited wardrobe. It's a video game, but the tradition of having a mental stroke is still strong.

6) Oh no, another murder I gotta solve! I shall use my powers. Why now? Is it another girlfriend who is into printing photos? Or is it her student? Or both? Max becoming Jefferson would be a nice twist, even if not loved among the community, but I don't think it would get anywhere that dark. It just will get stupid.

7) This is supposed to be a fanservice a little too late and on the wrong foot. I know y'all missed Max. I didn't, but I understand the hype on seeing her on the screen. Although following a teenager in Arcadia Bay was interesting, simply by the shot of nostalgia with every step, here we are following a middle-aged single art teacher (or someone who looks middle-aged to the point that they decided on fixing their face). NO ONE WANTS TO FOLLOW THEIR ART TEACHERS WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.

8) The Nazi problem (well, well, well, the turntables). I know DeckNein had to do some cleanup among their staff. I hope they did, but somehow, I doubt it was done for the right purpose. Therefore, I'm uncomfortable giving them any of my money, now or ever. I know, there are worse studios. I know it's stupid, but LIS was always special, filled with this little genuine spark. It just doesn't feel right.

9) The game has the worst UI in the history of modern gaming.

10) And to finish my rant on something even worse, LIS4 is coming just before DontNod's new game, most likely to compete with it on the market. A bit sus, don't you think?

Anyway, dick move, my friends. All of it. Actually, waving dicks around in the air all along. Despite our differences, this ain't right. And God knows how much worse it could be.

[kookblurx]

1920 - jjk [chpt 2. ]

→ SUMMARY: a photo of a beautiful smiling boy; an old tree in your grandparents garden ... and a feeling of sadness. all those things are connected to each other ...

→ GENRE: time travel au; changing fate au; rencarnation au; university au; death; sickness; historical setting; trigger topics; smut; dirty talk; switching between present and the past.

→ chapt. 1 / chapt. 3

→ RATING: 18+

→ NOTE: thank you for blowing up the first chapter with so many reblogs and welcome to all new followers. also if there are any creative people among us, feel free to design a header for this story. i will try to include every pic in the next chapters + linking your account. ( no must! ). Also please enjoy the second chapter <3 DISCLAIMER; this is a piece of art, not many events will be historically correctly.

BTS MASTERLIST ♡.°₊ˎˊ PLAYLIST FOR THIS CHAPTER

The Past:

as you fell down into the grass again the boy looked at you more than confused; probably because of the strange clothes you were wearing. he never saw a woman wear pants before, at least not such weird ones. you on the other hand looked wide eyes up to him as he scanned your whole appearance. yes right now you didnt looked really good as your hair was standig in various directions. still that wasnt a reason to stare at you like this. you crumpled the photo up with your hand before putting it in the back pocket of your jeans. seems like you are stuck here now for a while, at least until you would manage to go back. the wind and the weird voice was gone also the force which pushed you through the tree. wait, of course the tree. you were quick back onto your feed before running to the tree again. from behind you could heard the footsteps of the boy following you. he must think you are crazy as your hands searched for something "unusal" on the tree trunk. there was nothing. the wood felt strong and didnt budged against your pushing or pulling.

"what the hell ...? how?"

your mind was still in denial that you really fell right through it. this must be a joke from your grandparents, for sure. you probably forgot to water the plants or something, before running into the library.

"are you okay? you look .. restless" from behind you could feel a hand on your shoulder. "yes, yes im fine ... just a little bit confused i think?" "maybe i can help you with that? are you looking for something?"

as you turned around; your eyes became a bit puffy and started to burn. normally you didnt cried that easily but now you were stuck in a place you didnt knew.

"what year do we have ..?" your question left the boy speechless for a second "uh .. 1920 why are you asking?"

1920 ... the same date as on the photo. this cant be possible. there is no way you just travelled back in time, standing in front of a boy who should be dead. was this a sign? a sign that you were the one who should help him from his fate? for a moment you just stood there, thinking about the possibilities. changing fate can be fatal, for this timeline and for your own. what would change if you were able to save him? something must change.

"jungkook! Jungkook where are you?!"

another voice from a young man starteled you. how many of them were here? at least you figured something out, the boy in front of you was, indeed, jungkook. the one, the voice of the woman called out for inside your mind. while you were deep in thoughts; jungkook turned around to wave at his friend. that said friend panted a bit as he climbed up the hill.

"what the hell are you doing up here? the others are looking everywhere for you" with a heavy sigh the boy ran his hand through his hair. "uh well ... i found her here. i dont know who she is but ... she seems lost"

as jungkook mentioned you, you finally came back to your senses. scanning the area you noticed that the two of you werent alone anymore. upon seeing the other boy, your heart suddenly stopped again. thats not possible. he cant be here too.

"yo, you. whats your name?"

lifting one of his eyebrows the boy looked at you, waiting for an answer ... which didnt came. instead you took a few steps forward, cupping his cheeks between your hands. the stranger jumped immediately because of the sudden touch. no wonder; they lived in a time were woman werent so straight forward. both of his cheeks grew red as he looked helpless to jungkook. instead of helping him, jungkook just stood there laughing at his friend. you squinted your eyes a bit, they really looked alike. the same eyes, the same confused expression hence even the hair is the same.

"whats your name?" now you were the one asking the question. still a bit lost the boy looked at you "m-me? ... im jimin, park jimin"

slowly you let go of his cheeks. this isnt a coincidence, if you are really back in 1920 there was a high chance that this person is your crush's ancestor. at least thats what is probably happening here.

"okay alright this is crazy but .. i will play along for now. im y/n ... you are jimin and you are jungkook right?" jimin widened his eyes; he looked at you like you just killed someone "hold on; dont speak so informal with him." slightly confused you looked over at jungkook, he didnt looked like a prince or someone else from the royal family "what do you mean?" "you must be new around here ... but in front of you stands Jeon Jungkook. The berserk ... the one who won every single war for our holy land!" jimin must really think highly of jungkook as he stretched his arms out.

a war hero. you tucked this information away into the corner of your mind. if you ever came back home you would check his name in your grandparent library. to be honest on the first glance jungkook didnt looked like an berserker, more like a normal farm boy. his features on his face were soft and he had a beautiful smile. nothing which screamed "berserker" into someones face. but who knows how war heroes really looked like in this time. your gaze went back to the tree as the two boys started to quarrel with each other. somehow you already missed your family, they must be worried sick about your dissapearance. the picture suddenly felt really heavy as another wind came up ... and there it was again... the faint voice:

"you must save him... you must save him for your future"

"... what?" you turned around but no one was there.

jungkook and jimin were gone .. and right in front of you were your grandparents mansion again. what is going on here? did you really just relieved a memory snippet of this place?

"this isnt funny anymore! come out!" you screamed at the tree right in front of you.

first there was silence and then out of nowhere small little hands appeared on the tree trunk. a small head popped out behind it. for a moment you believed that you totally lost your mind now. it was a little fairy, smaller than your thumb. shyly she flew into your direction, fidgeting with her fingers.

"did you pushed me through the tree?" she nodded. "... please tell me what is going on? where are jungkook and jimin?" slowly the little fairy opened her mouth "i needed to bring you back in order ... to explain everything to you. if they would had saw me ... they would declared you as a witch."

this whole thing became more and more complicated. "okay so ... what is going on here?" the fairy suddenly had a serious expression on her face "listen to me. my power is limited .. in order to let you travel back ... i need you to find trigger points to certain events in the past. they are all hidden inside this mansion ... with every object or info you can find ... you will be able to stay there longer"

your head started to hurt. why you? why is it so important that you are the one.

"got it but .. why me? what does this have to do with me?" the fairy bit down on her bottom lip "i cant tell you ... you need to discover it for yourself what your role is ... the only thing i need to tell you is .. that you MUST save him. please." saving a war hero ... of course its not an easy task considering all the battlefields he needs to go. "fine but how?" "you need to look into his death more. no source documented what really happened... but your grandparents have a grand collection of books. find out what happened ... so you ...will be ... able to ... go"

with every word the fairy faded away more and more until you were back alone on the hill. your hand reached into your back pocket, grabbing the picture again. the only info you had was the year, the place ... his name and what he was.

"great .."

with a heavy sight you walked down from the hill, the first direction will be your laptop. maybe some history nerd already researched those events back then. according to jimin, jungkook was pretty famous ... so there must be some kind of records, right?

taglist:

@junecat18

[practically-an-x-man]

Talk Shop Tuesday for how you approach doing research? (Be it historical, for representation purposes, etc.)

Thank you so much!!

Talk Shop Tuesday

Ooooh, that's a fantastic question right there! Now I've never been the type to shy away from research, and I definitely found a rhythm during high school and college (I actually took an AP Research class in high school, so if I wasn't good at research before I DEFINITELY was after that class)

When it comes to research for fics, I usually will start by just asking the question plainly on the off-chance someone's asked it before. Sometimes they have and there's a source to be found right off the bat, so it's worth just asking the question with the potential to save a few minutes in the long run.

If that doesn't work, I'll expand the search a little bit - for example, I had to do a bit of research for Jimmy's story in HIYH, so my question of "What attractions already existed in Coney Island in 1915?" (for example) became searches like "Coney Island timeline", "Coney Island photos 1910", "Tunnel of Love history", and other things like that in an attempt to pull together an answer like that.

I definitely still stick to academic-style researching - if I have a direct, reliable source, like a historical society or the Coney Island website itself, I'll stick to that, but when it comes to third-party sources I'll always try to check 3-4 at least to make sure the information is accurate. I'm not making a Works Cited page or an Annotated Bibliography or anything like that, but I do make a solid effort to avoid misinformation if I can.

And of course, sometimes there are just the questions that I can't quite track down, for one reason or another. Maybe it's just too specific of a question, and no research has been done in exactly that venue. Maybe it's too far back in time and there just aren't details available (like when I'm researching certain things about Ancient Egypt for WWFA?). Maybe it's just not a question that there is a solid answer to, something dependent on the circumstance and the individual, and there are too many other factors to know quantifiably.

When that's the case, I will do my best to dig up a little more general information, find related answers, and make my best educated guess. For example, I ran into a lot of this when it came to WWFA?, particularly some of the language, culture, and theology surrounding Kemet. It's fiction and I recognize that, so I knew I could take a few creative liberties when I really needed it, but I tried to be cautious with those liberties since it is still rooted in a real, existing society and culture that deserves respect.

For example, while I do have a source for certain words that we have translated from the Ancient Egyptian language, I have substituted Arabic here or there when I couldn't find an accurate translation - it's the next most closely-related language, so it worked as a substitute if I wasn't able to find exactly the right word. Same story for the other ways Katherine harnesses the magic, or how the gods manifest to her: rooted in research and historical sources as much as possible, but with a careful degree of creative liberties as needed so that the story could retain that energy and life when I was working on limited information.

When it comes to representation in any of my stories, similar story. I do search for information about what life and culture was like during the time, if there were any notable individuals who would have fit a similar niche to the character I'm trying to reflect, but a lot of the time it comes down to how I feel things would fit together in the end (ex. the culture they're raised in versus how the individual person would react as a human being).

And then, of course, there's times when pure research just won't align with the character or their history for other reasons: like how my version of DC's Themyscira is a blend of Greek, Middle Eastern, and North African geography and culture - the mythology is Greco-Roman in nature, like we see in the comics, but I see the geography as more Indo-Mediterranean and the food as a mix between Middle Eastern and Mediterranean flavor profiles. And since it's isolated from the rest of the world, I wanted some of those details to seem a little "behind pace".

Researching those cultures individually does help me put those pieces together, but there are some questions that boil down to how I think it would fit together - what holidays would Eris celebrate? [namely Greco-Roman festivals like Vestalia] How would they tolerate spicy foods? [poorly; Themyscira had spices and seasonings but few that contained capsaicin] How would they react to customs like hair coverings while in certain regions of Earth? [they keep a scarf in their bag to cover their hair if needed; it was ceremonial but not required on Themyscira and they're familiar with the concept]. Some things may reflect one root culture more than another, and some details may not stem directly from any of them because at the end of the day Themyscira is meant to be its own region, but there's a lot of thought that goes into every decision.

Idk, this is getting long. Long story short is: I tend to be pretty thorough about research and I want to get the details right as much as I can, but sometimes the personal details do boil down to some educated guesses or creative liberties.

[stranger-rants]

This is not a post arguing whether or not you should or shouldn't like Jason as a character. This is simply to point out why Jason and his actions evoke racist imagery in America. If you are not American, some of this may have gone over your head. It is important nonetheless to understand. Note, I am white. I am not going to tell fans of color how to feel about Jason either. I am just pointing out for historical reasons why many fans are disturbed by Jason's actions beyond the context of the show, that does not make an explicit connection between his actions and racist America though it is heavily implied, intentional or not.

1) The concept of white men forming lynch mobs to punish black men for allegedly assaulting their white girlfriends played out many times in real life in racist America. While Jason's lynch mob initially targeted Eddie, his final target and the one who received the most harm was Lucas.

Emmett Till was one of the most prominent victims of this kind of lynching. He was just a 14 year old black boy who was tortured and killed for being wrongfully accused of "disturbing" a white woman. This was not in the distant past. His accuser Carol Bryant is still alive.

2) The "one of the good ones" line is a white supremacist dog whistle and a microaggression in America for any person of color who is respectable enough to whites in their attitudes and behaviors that are perceived as helping to hold up white supremacy. This was told to Lucas.

3) Jason's appearance whether intentional or not fits the "uniform" of American white supremacists. For example, below is an infamous photo of the Unite the Right rally that took place in Charlottesville Virginia. White men especially paraded in polos and khakis with their hair done in a conservative fashion. It is no coincidence that this same look is valued among the white Christian conservative right.

Regardless if it was intentional, Jason brings to mind all of these things in American viewers. If you do not understand what racism in America looks like then some of this may have gone over your head. It's why I find it surprising that people will call Billy a violent racist, but then argue that Jason was just grieving his girlfriend. There have been plenty of white men who were "grieving" or "trying to protect" their white girlfriends who then violently attacked black people who were doing nothing but existing while black.

The fact that Lucas became the primary target and people accuse Lucas of "acting suspicious" reinforce this, justifying a rather brutal attack by Jason who is white on Lucas who is black. Do I think anyone who is invested in Jason's character is a bad person who is violently racist? No, because I can recognize the difference between people liking a character and condoning their actions. However, when people fail to understand why Jason's behavior strikes a nerve in American audiences... this is why.

[hit-song-showdown]

Year-End Poll #23: 1972

[Image description: a collage of photos of the 10 musicians and musical groups featured in this poll. In order from left to right, top to bottom: Roberta Flack, Gilbert O'Sullivan, Don McLean, Harry Nilsson, Sammy Davis Jr., Joe Tex, Bill Withers, Mac Davis, Melanie, Wayne Newton. End description]

More information about this blog here

I mentioned in a previous poll how fast culture changed in the 1970s, and that doesn't feel like an exaggeration. This was the final year of the draft and more American troops were being taken out of Vietnam. As American troops were coming home, The Today Show aired a "while you were away" segment to go over how the culture has shifted while they were overseas. Most, if not all, of this segment was a joke, but it shows that even at the time people were aware that something was changing and it was changing fast. To paraphrase historian Rick Perlstein, they left a country where The Sound of Music was the most popular movie, and they came home to a country where the most popular movie was Last Tango in Paris.

To get back to the music, it feels wrong not to shine the spotlight on Don McLean's American Pie. For one, I probably could have used the lyrics as the blurb for one of the 60's polls and saved myself a lot of time. The lyrics themselves show this changing cultural shift as well, reflecting on how aimless this new generation felt. It's hard not to put a 2020s lens on everything. But looking back at a time that was rife with political scandals and politicians not seeming to care about the rising bodycounts affecting their citizens, I'd be lying if I said the sentiment doesn't hit home. "A generation lost in space" indeed.

However, in addition to the longest song on this poll, I also want to highlight one of the shorter ones. Specifically, Joe Tex's I Gotcha. Funk music is going to continue to grow in popularity this decade, even though the full extent of that cultural movement won't always be seen on the top of the charts. But the reason I wanted to highlight this song specifically is to use it as a prelude to what's coming next. If you listen to the song, pay attention to the chorus when the rest of the instruments drop out to put more emphasis on the percussion and how Joe Tex's rhythmic vocals play against the beat.

And for my third highlight, if the artist behind the tenth song sounds familiar, that's because the song was by Mr. Las Vegas himself. Or, if any Fallout fans follow this blog (and judging by the results on some of the 50's-60's polls, I know you're here), Mr. New Vegas. Speaking of gamers, Pong debuted this year as well.

I've rewritten this section multiple times, because I don't want to gloss over a specific moment in history, but it also feels jarring to bring it up in a poll with mostly unpolitical songs. After spending a few polls talking about how the war affected the American psyche, it feels important to reinforce that the people of Vietnam didn't have to be soldiers or reporters to see the war before their eyes instead of on a television set. 1972 also marks the year of the Christmas Bombings, one of the most horrific 12-day stretches in an already horrific war. Even though I don't go over every historic moment in these descriptions, it felt wrong not to bring this up. Even as this event would result in the general population's mistrust towards Nixon and the government growing even more rapidly, it wouldn't be enough.

Nixon no longer had to worry about reelection and it felt like the entire country was holding its breath before something major happened.

[writingquestionsanswered]

This feels like a stupid question because even I'm not entirely sure what I'm asking, but how much backstory is necessary/enough? I'm trying to dance around a certain past event so the full thing can be revealed just as the reader learns the true significance of it, but I'm not sure how to do that because of how it affected several characters in the present. It's a major source of trauma for all the main/POV characters, and I don't know how to show that without revealing too much, too soon.

Holding Back Important Backstory

"Backstory" simply refers to the relevant history of your story's characters and world, not to when and how that information is doled out. In other words, how much backstory is necessary/enough has nothing to do with when and how it's revealed. That's two different questions. :)

How much backstory is necessary/enough is pretty straightforward: if an element of world/character history is necessary in order for the reader to understand plot events, the world, or the characters, it's necessary. If you can omit an element of world/character history and it doesn't affect your reader's understanding of the plot, world, or characters, it can be omitted. "Enough" is backstory is when there are no gaps in your reader's understanding of the plot/world/characters due to missing historical context.

As far as when and how to reveal backstory, typically you can break up the relevant history into smaller parts and work them into the story in such a way that it builds up to the part of the backstory that's the most important at the moment when it's most relevant to the story.

This is kind of a dumb example (but for some reason it's where my brain is at currently...) but let's say your story has a big reveal where a snow white lamb is discovered without its mistress, Mary. And the backstory is that Mary had a little lamb, its fleece was white as snow, and everywhere that Mary went, the lamb was sure to go. So, now you break that up into smaller chunks that can be woven throughout the narrative. 1) Mary had a little lamb, 2) Its fleece was white as snow, 3) And everywhere that Mary went, the lamb was sure to go. Now, you can go ahead and reveal that Mary had a little lamb in chapter one, during Mr. Smith's flashback of young Mary being gifted her little lamb. In chapter two, you can work in that the lamb's fleece was as white as snow during a conversation where a character is telling another character about the say Mary's father bought her the lamb. In chapter three, you can reveal that "everywhere that Mary went, the lamb was sure to go" by having the police lieutenant flip through a photo album showing pictures of Mary and her lamb over several months, always together, in every situation. And then, just as he reaches the end of the album, a deputy storms in and says, "Sir! We found a snow white lamb, but Mary is nowhere in sight!"

That's an extremely simplistic way of explaining how to work in backstory. You take the necessary but less dramatic details and weave them in first to start your foundation, then you weave in the more important/dramatic elements before they become relevant (not too soon and not too late) so they're fresh in the reader's mind when the reveal that relies on the backstory details happens.

I hope that helps!

P.S. Mary was found safe and reunited with her little lamb. The End ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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[fluffalpenguin]

⬅[Prev] Day 3: Decks

@ygoc-week Day 4: Relationships

Like Day 2, some character introductions are included for context! (Image heavy post as usual)

relationship chart at the end of the post!

1. Fleur & Jackie (VS Hamelin)

The dazzling, dangerous duo of a heiress and a hitman-for-hire! Fleur was the one that gave Jackie her name, Jacqueline, from a romance novel she had been reading at the time.

Though they look like they share a standard master and servant relationship, the two are more like equals with a directional hierarchy. Partners-in-crime, if you will...

As a research student who's always struggling to get the Tops at her school to assist her in her thesis, Hamelin hates rich people for hoarding the very historical artefacts she needs for her research. With her Magikey deck and homemade gadgets, even state-of-the-art security systems don't stand a chance!

The next day after a failed heist at Fleur (after being foiled by Jackie), she bumps into him at the college. To her horror, Jackie learns her name, and from that day on seems to have decided that the two of them are now friends. 

Jackie has no clue that Hamelin and the phantom thief are the same person, but somehow he constantly makes cryptic remarks that allude to such knowledge. It always sets off the wheel in Hammy’s head.

“Inviting me out for an outing after nightfall? Is she trying to get proof that I am the phantom thief by proving that the two of us can never be at the same place at the same time? But if I say no, then she has even more reason to suspect me! If I say yes, I’m playing right into her hands… Curses! A moth? More like a spider!”  “(... She’s been thinking for a while now… Is she trying to think up a way to gently let me down? I feel a little bad… But I’m not giving up!)” <- innocently just wants to be friends

(The girl at the back is Jackie's childhood friend and unrequited-but-actually-requited crush, Eliza*)

2. Violentshipping Fuschia/Viol

In their clash during the war, Fuschia learnt the cruel reality of the dimensional war he was so happily participating in. He was to get a taste of his own medicine, but escaped his cardboard fate when Viol heard his desperate pleas about his siblings.

I'm slowly working on the specifics of their encounter but anyway here are bingo charts for the both of them filled by each other:

3. RGB trio (Fuschia & Abel* & Viol)

Fuschia thought he'd just have to avoid Viol for the rest of life as long as he worked at LDS, but little did he know meeting up with his old schoolmate, Abel, had a surprise in store for him... Their theme song is guy.exe by superfruit

4. Abel & Viol

After Abel defected to Xyz, the two ended up being in the same refugee camp. While they knew of each other's existence, they never spoke a word to each other for the entire war, only ever enjoying each other's silent company as they ate their meals in companiable silence. It was only after the war ended when they both returned to their 'spot' as a last hurrah of sorts that they finally exchanged names.

The two look stunning no matter the state they're in, and are often mistaken to be models. While they can be found hanging out at the most fashionable cafes in Maiami on the weekend, they'll also do the strangest things together, such as going fishing in the middle of a heavy storm.

arteeeeee omggggggggggg🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟👍👍 c079x BIG CATCH ‼️🎣🐟💯yall cray crayfish fr lmao!!! aluberenjoyer who took this photo

5. Fusion Mean Girls (Fuschia + Auvria* + Abel +α)

At any given day during a school day, Fuschia and Auvria can be seen sitting at the back of the classroom doing anything but paying attention, such as painting their nails. Despite that, if you were to call on them, they'd be able to answer the question with ease. This catches the eye of a certain Obelisk Force member...

On the battlefield, the pink-headed pair often play a game to see who can collect more resistance scarves in a given time limit.

6. Arte & Alcidis

In school, the two quickly became friends over a shared interest in the field of design. While Alcie would hesitate calling Arte a friend then, the loss of her comforting presence during the war made him realise how reliant he had been on her company. During the invasion, he writes many letters (diary entries) to her, knowing that she would want to know everything that happened. He doesn't actually give them to her when she's revived, because he's let himself be very vulnerable in them.

A handy dandy chart for an overview... (Not exhaustive because it only includes my own+1 ocs)

Things I wanted to draw but didn't have the time:

sillies trio meeting and their antennas reacting to each other

jackie vs hamelin rooftop duel

hamelin conducting a field study as jackie watches

post-canon alcie and arte hanging out

fuschia jackie vibing together

and a bunch of other combinations with my friends' ocs!! keels over

➞[Next] Day 5: Swap (Coming soon!)

(Note: * = OCs owned by @shinrei017)

[avelera]

On Language in "Giving Sanctuary" - Behind the Scenes

I've been considering articulating these thoughts for a bit, but figured I might as well now. Language use is one of those things I think the writer worries about 10x more than any reader ever does, but I wanted to explain for my own sake why the way Hob, Dream and the other speaking characters of "Giving Sanctuary" communicate is for the most part entirely modern and largely out of step with the way people spoke in the 1680s. Because I have spent a great deal of time thinking about this and justifying it to the invisible reader in my head that's just as hung up on history as I am, which is a vanishingly smaller percentage of actual readers.

There are a few reasons for this:

1 ) The Sandman show does not have Hob and Dream speaking Middle English in 1389, so I feel pretty much at liberty to have them speak as modernly in "Giving Sanctuary" as they do in the actual source material. That really should be the end of the discussion but I have a few more thoughts. (Because of course I do.)

2 ) Historical fiction really is as fantastical rather than realistic (plus reliant on worldbuilding) as any fantasy or sci-fi story. Almost no one is ever doing a perfect recreation of a historical time period they didn't experience. We are always as writers worldbuilding to a certain extend when writing any experience, but in particular when writing other time periods. There is a constant tug-o-war between "Old-timey enough to evoke the sense of the time period presented" and "Not so accurately old-timey that modern audiences are completely disconnected from the story." I want to grant the pleasures of reading a story set in another time, while acknowledging that there's a reason that reading centuries old stories without any update or translation is hard and not always fun, and my story would be the same if I went for perfect accuracy.

Frankly, the vocabulary, morals, concerns, humor, and slang of a perfectly photo-realistic representation of the 1680s would be very nearly impenetrable, in my opinion, if it were represented accurately. We'd feel completely disconnected from the story or at most, have passing glimpses of relatability while wading through the language of a distant time period. I wanted the story to feel immediate, so I wanted to mostly use the language of today, the way the show does, and for probably the same reason.

3 ) I just don't want to do all that fucking research. Dear lord. Short of digging my way through Paradise Lost and a bunch of other literature from the time, there was no way I was going to be able to fluently represent the language of the 1600s and even if I did the language of literature still wouldn't be perfectly accurate. It would just be more "evoking" and a lot more of me stressing out for something most people wouldn't care about and that might actually make the story less enjoyable for a wide audience.

4 ) That said there were a few places where I tried to evoke that we're in a different time period, using some stock historical fiction tropes which are probably of dubious accuracy if I actually dug into 1600s literature. Things like dropping contractions, or throwing in the occasional archaism, formal language, or old-timey swear word.

In the name of perfect accuracy, may of these "old timey" things aren't accurate for the time either if one were to dig into the fact that say, Hob would probably be much more careful about using curse words that involve saying the Lord's name in vain, that sort of thing. But that was just one more thing I did not want to worry about, because it takes a lot of effort for very little return, in my opinion, and writing is hard enough as it is. These are the sort of concerns that keeps historical fiction writers from actually writing their story a lot of the time, because they go down the research rabbit hole and end up with a PhD but no historical fiction novel to speak of. (If this story was being written for publication, I'd probably still write this all the same way, then just go to a scholar of the time period and ask them to help me alter certain lines to be more accurate, but I'm not publishing this, so I won't lol.)

5 ) Now, as one last for-fun character note about the use of language, one might notice if they pay close attention that Hob's level of formality and modern language shifts in the fic. In my own mind, that has to do with his comfort levels. At the beginning of the story, he's much more formal, especially with Dream, and especially when he's nervous around Dream (in ch. 4 when talking about holding hands, he gets perhaps the most formal we ever see him because he is very nervous and starts talking too much and getting very archaic and loses track of his point as a result).

As the story has progressed, though, Hob has grown more comfortable around Dream and more comfortable speaking frankly with Dream. As a result, his language has grown much more modern, using contractions and a more casual tone.

6 ) As a final note, there is a conceit in the story that you, the reader, are not hearing things as they are actually being said. In theory if we were to time machine back to when the story is taking place, the way Dream and Hob talk would be very different. There is an idea inherent that the narrator is modernizing the language for the modern viewer. Everything that's being said is being accurately represented as far as spirit and tone, but the literal word choice has been altered for viewers like you :)

[bfpnola]

hi!!! so recently I’ve gained a big interest in building up my collection of patches to put onto my clothes and stuff in my journey to becoming more queerly punk in my presentation. my biggest goal is to make other more marginalized people in my community feel safe around me. so I’m looking into a lot of patches for BLM, stop asian hate, punch nazis, disability advocacy, etc.

I came across a bunch of patches symbolizing the BPP, and I’d really like to get one, but I do worry that that would be inappropriate in a way as a white person. I am autistic and struggle a lot to understand what is and isn’t appropriate to do/say in attempts at support and allyship, so I figured I’d ask.

my reasoning is that even though I’m not Black, the BPP is my biggest inspiration as a young activist looking to dedicate my life to racial and other forms of Justice. Their work, their platform, their impact, truly transformed my political conscience, but I know that I do not want to make the Black Power movement and the BPP centered around me, but at the same time I want to express how much they mean to me and how much they have influenced my ideas for activism if that makes sense.

it may seem like I am making a big deal over one patch or piece of clothing, this stuff is just so foundational to who I am and what I believe so I tend to be a bit seemingly dramatic about it.

anyways, I’m not here to ask you definitively yes or no if it would be appropriate of me to wear a BPP patch, I don’t want to tokenize your existence or work. But you know so much about the BPP and the history of the Black Power Movement that I really trust anything you have to say on the matter of the line between showing allyship, and centering history that’s not about me, around me. so if you’re up for answering, I’d love your personal perspective on white people using BPP symbolism to show allyship and if there’s any historical examples of why that would be good OR bad.

anyways sorry for the long ask and either way, thank you for everything you do and I hope you have a wonderful day!!

hi lovely! life has been exponentially rough for me lately so in advance, i do not have the emotional capacity to respond to this in the degree in which i'd prefer BUT i feel terrible letting it sit in our inbox forever. here's my most basic perspective for now, in bullet points to help organize my thoughts:

first off, i absolutely adore that you're collecting revolutionary patches! a friend i've made over at Queer Youth Assemble (QYA) has a similar jacket and it's always so colorful, i love it!

thank you for reaching out! i think it shows you have a lot of respect for the Black community and everything that the BPP stood for, which i greatly appreciate.

because i'm aware you hold a deep respect for the BPP, i honestly think it's fine that you have a BPP patch, so long as you understand that history. the BPP were pretty accepting of folks of all races, as shown through their acceptance of non-Black members/partners and serving non-Black communities. a few chapters still exist today around the country (i got to meet a few from the Louisiana chapter, some moved over from California) and they openly teach anyone that's willing to listen! it's just that their focus is on how Black people specifically are affected by systemic oppression and how we can liberate ourselves from such.

[ID: A black and white photo of two children around the age of 9 or so, one white, one Black, eating at the Black Panther Party's free breakfast program. They have white paper plates with crumbs and leftovers on them, cartons of what looks like juice, and plastic utensils. The white child is wearing a Black Panther Party beret with 3 Black Panther Party pins on it as well as a thick coat. The Black child looks down at his plate, his coat zipped up all the way. The caption below the image reads, "Two boys in 1969 at a free breakfast for children program in New York City sponsored by the Black Panther Party. Bev Grant/Getty Images." / End ID]

i think, though, that this is best exemplified through the Rainbow Coalition (now co-opted unfortunately), the alliance Fred Hampton created alongside the Young Patriots Organization and the Young Lords. over time, other radical grassroots orgs began to join like the Brown Berets and the American Indian Movement! the BPP truly respected each of their orgs in their support of their respective communities and it's truly unfortunate that the coalition didn't get to fully take off.

i would refrain from wearing any full regalia though, as this would definitely come off as appropriation. respect and admiration are not the same as a full understanding of the struggle! BPP was about far more than just putting on a specific outfit or throwing up a couple symbols. it was a lifelong commitment, even after you technically left. there was real, heavy trauma associated with one's membership, especially those higher up in leadership. i remember reading elaine brown's autobiography, how she felt herself becoming more violent, having folks beat to a bloody pulp right in front of her eyes. folks frequently had to live in fear that they or their partners would be killed as well. that changes a person, and so do the years spent in jail by so many of the party's members. there was ongoing abuse, misogyny, power struggles and more. it definitely wasn't all sunshine and rainbows.

be aware that my opinion is only my own, so others may not agree!

in summary, go for the patch, just be mindful!

some resources related to what i mentioned:

How three unlikely groups worked together to achieve interracial solidarity (podcast)

This article on Richard Aoki

After the list was finalized, Newton and Seale asked Aoki to join the newly formed Black Panthers. Aoki accepted after Newton explained that being African-American wasn’t a prerequisite to joining the group. He recalled Newton saying:

“The struggle for freedom, justice and equality transcends racial and ethnic barriers. As far as I’m concerned, you black.”

Seize the Time: The Story of The Black Panther Party and Huey P. Newton by Bobby Seale (novel)

A Taste of Power: A Black Woman's Story by Elaine Brown (novel)

Assata: An Autobiography by Assata Shakur (novel)

again, i apologize that i couldn't answer this with the depth i'd like to, but hopefully this helped!

-- reaux (she/they)