#this is like some twelfth night awesomeness!!

[dilatorywriting]

Oh, 4k? Hold up then, looks like you dropped this 👑👑👑

CONGRATS TO YOU, ONE OF THE BEST WRITERS HERE!! If I could partake in the event, I'd love something with Riddle and prompt 17; love my short red angry king and alice in wonderland in its entirety tbh. If the Reader could be a bit of a rule breaker too and have known Riddle since childhood that'd be awesome as well. Again tho CONGRATULATIONS!! HOPE NOTHING BUT THE GOOD STUFF FOR YOU!

Gender Neutral Reader x Riddle Rosehearts Word Count: 2.3k

Prompt 17: "I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do."

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

You were annoying.

At least, that was the kindest way his mother described it. And Riddle would have to agree. Always hanging over his shoulder like some overeager parrot and rattling off nonsense into his ear just as loudly. He was hardly allowed out to the park—mother said his studies were far too important, and even as a child Riddle certainly agreed. Mostly, at least. Enough to never argue—but when he did get time to sit out in the sun under the shade of the grand, painted trees, you were always there.

A bother, a nuisance. Sticky fingered with the remnants of swiped tarts and chattering on, and on, and on.

“I tried to follow a rabbit,” you said, rolling around in the dirt like a heathen. Weren’t you worried your parents would scold you for mucking up the smooth, blue fabric of your jacket? “But it ran too fast and I fell. Do you think I could catch it with a net, maybe?”

“Hopped,” Riddle correctly, stiffly. “Rabbits hop.”

“Well this one ran,” you argued back. “Faster than a car. Faster than a cheetah.”

“Cars are faster than cheetahs,” he said, turning to the next page of his book. “So grammatically you should have put that part second.”

You flopped back onto your stomach and pulled yourself to your knees, before scuttling behind his back and peering over his shoulder.

“How can you pay attention to a book with no pictures in it?”

He hunched up his shoulders and you dropped your chin down with a bonk. Refusing to budge.

“Some of us don’t have the attention span of goldfish,” he sneered, turning his nose up at you.

“Well, if I could only think as much as a goldfish, I wouldn’t want to waste it on that,” you snipped back. “Doing homework in a park. What are you, a robot?”

“I’m efficient!” he snapped. “Mother says I shouldn’t waste time on frivolities.” On things like you, he doesn’t say. A part of him wants to. The part that sounds like biting words and a sharp, firm voice demanding he get to bed by 7pm unless he wants to rot his brain. Another part is… is worried that you might not like that. And then you’d just get even more annoying.

You reached around and snagged the textbook out of his hands with an audible ‘yoink!’ and immediately ran off at full speed. Which is never fair! Because you’re used to climbing up trees, and sprinting through mud, and scaling boulders like a wild beast. And Riddle is—Riddle isn’t! He would never! So it takes him an age to catch up to you. By the time he does, he’s huffing, and puffing, and as red as his hair.

“Don’t do that!” he snapped, livid. “Ever again!”

“Alright,” you shrugged, a loose grin on your mouth as you returned your pilfered treasure. You’ve barely even broken a sweat. “I won’t bother you during homework, Riddle.”

Which is… That’s certainly what he wanted Of course it was. But it made something in his stomach drop nonetheless. Probably because you’d just find new ways to be irritating. Yes. That’s certainly why.

The first time he felt it was on his twelfth birthday.

He’d tried so hard. And he’d done so well. His exams had all come back with perfect scores, his projects and papers immaculately graded. He’d been going to bed on time every night, combing his hair exactly how his mother liked, even folding his clothes into perfectly pressed little squares. She’d seen it in one of her cleanliness magazines and had lamented how nice the style looked for something so tedious. But Riddle had learned. And now his closet looked as tidy as a militia.

“Can I go? Trey’s whole family will be there. And it’s just dinner. Fully monitored!” he reassured, fighting the urge to twist his hands behind his back. “Please?”

“Of course not,” his mother droned, not even looking up from her laptop. “You’ve been doing well, but we don’t want you slipping up, now do we?”

“But—” he started, and her eyes cut up to him like daggers. A warning. “…of course, mother.”

“Good boy,” she smiled, with that smile that was never really a smile. “Now go up to your room. You can have an extra half hour of free time today,” she said, like it was something worth celebrating. “For my special birthday boy.”

Riddle had sat in his bed wishing he’d never known what a birthday was at all. And then there was a tapping at his window.

He opened it in shock, to see you hanging off the edge like a particularly determined cockroach. Which was—! No! It wasn’t safe! And you were going to get him in trouble, and—

But instead of opening that stupid, fat mouth of yours and letting of your siren call of a laugh—summoning every sensible adult in a five-mile radius to come checking for delinquents—you simply swung around a bit to reach back into your jacket pocket. Riddle almost lurched forward when he saw your fingers scrabble a bit along the ledge. Ready to fall. But then you righted yourself and gently deposited a little, paper-wrapped parcel atop of the smooth surface.

And then you shot him a wink and disappeared from view, no doubt scuttling back down the siding like the demon you were.

He approached it hesitantly, like one would an active bomb. He carefully peeled back the sticky tape and smoothed out the edges of the sloppily wrapped package. Inside was a small, round strawberry tart. Freshly baked, by the smell of it. And the waft of warm, soft steam curling up from the flaking crust. With a little note tucked beside it in your chicken scratch. A lopsided smiley face doodled at the corner, beaming up at a hastily scrawled ‘Happy Birthday, Riddle!’

He took a small bite of the little, perfect treat and his eyes burned. Something in his chest gave a worrying thump-thump.

‘Oh my god,’ he thought in a panic. ‘The idiot poisoned me.’

But aside from the horribly loud ticking of his heart, nothing else seemed to go awry. He ate the rest of the tart in silence, feeling lightheaded and far too warm. He wondered if maybe his mother was right about sugar and myocardial infarction after all.

Riddle didn’t see much of you the next few years. His mother doubled down on his study times, and he wasn’t even allowed to spend time with someone as responsible as Trey anymore. Let alone the person his parent had deemed ‘a menace upon polite society.’ The next time he saw you—really saw you. Not just your hurried waves from across the street or the trace ends of your bubbling laugh from around a corner—was when the Royal Sword Academy’s students had descended upon Night Raven for the VDC.

You were chattering away with Che’nya, the pair of you looking equally as mused and ridiculous. All splashes of raucous color and uniforms so out of place that one would hardly be able tell what institution you were meant to be a part of at all. For a moment he thought you’d walk right past. It’d been years, after all. And certainly you’d moved on to bothering some new stick in the mud.

But then you saw him and your eyes lit up. His chest gave another of those terrible thump-thumps.

“Riddle!” you all but screamed. And launched yourself at him like a feral cat. “How are you! Your hair is so neat! Did you grow out your bangs? Oh! Look at your cape! So cool! Did you know that we don’t get capes? I think that’s a crime. Especially with how yours looks,” you rambled on. And despite that lingering thread of him that demanded that you must be annoying, because that’s what you were. Loud, and uncouth, and everything he’d been raised to not be. The rest of him was… Warm. And happy, to hear the familiar chatter back in his ear.

He scoffed, hoping it would cover the noise of his pounding heart. “No one in their right mind would trust you with a cape. You’d get caught on every door in existence.”

“Oh, that’s fair,” you agreed on a nod. “But surely a top hat, at least?”

And then you were back in his life like you’d never left to begin with. Or, well, like he’d never left you.

Showing up at Unbirthday Parties with the tackiest serving plates and even worse outfits. Telling him all about the rabbit you finally managed to catch, and how it does run, Riddle. I swear. Bringing him trinkets you’d found in small shops that had no practical purpose to speak of. Breaking every rule in the Queen’s Book and smacking yourself on the forehead each time he shouted a stern reminder. You even bought a little notepad to jot down his instructions. But all it ended up being good for was an ever growing pile of doodles and little, folded, origami animals that he’d find tucked all around his room like secrets.  

And amidst all of this, that thumping, bumping pressure in his chest just kept getting worse.

It was a warm day, not unlike the one all those years ago where you’d plunked yourself on his shoulder and stolen the textbook right out of his hands. Now you had your own book to read, some monstrosity on analyzing ravens and writing desks, with your head precariously close to his lap but not there. He didn’t even know why that bothered him.

“This book is too complicated,” you complained. And Riddle fought the urge to point out you were holding it upside down. “Both have quills. Is that so hard to understand?”

“That makes no sense,” he argued back.

“Of course it does,” you said, perfectly pleasant and sure of yourself. “But you know everything, so you really ought to know that too.”

He snorted. “I do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not.”

“What’s fifteen times thirty-four.”

“That’s not knowing. That’s just math,” he argued. “And it’s five-hundred and ten.”

“See,” you poked. “I knew you’d know it.” You rolled over to stretch out on your stomach—reaching forward to twist a long blade of grass between your fingers. “You always know what to do.”

Something in his stomach turned unpleasantly at that. Had he known what to do when he’d cowed to his mother’s commands and cut you from his life? Had he known best when he’d turned away from your warm greetings and friendly overtures to hide away behind the unsurmountable walls of expectation? Worse over, did you think that he thought all those things were… for the best? That he’d wanted to push you aside like all your cheerful banter and sweet attempts to brighten his dull, miserable life had been worth nothing.  

“That’s not true,” he finally said, stilted and near whisper quiet.

You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked at him with a curious tilt of the head.

“Of course it is,” you blinked, guileless and genuine. Smiling up at him from your place in the grass with that familiar, twisty little grin on your mouth and a brightness in your eyes that never seemed to dim.

“It’s not,” he said, a bit firmer. And his gaze flickered off away from yours. “I think I’m in love with you, and I don’t know what to do about it at all.”

Riddle wasn’t sure what he was expecting. Silence, maybe. The horrible, awkward, biting sort that ate away at his soul like a rat gnawing through his bones. Maybe you’d laugh at him, in that bubbling, carefree way of yours, and tell him that you thought one of those rules of his was never to lie on a Thursday afternoon. That would hurt worse than the silence, he thought.

But instead you just rolled back over with a flick of your wrist, like you were gossiping about the weather.

“Then love me,” you said, simple. “I love you. It only seems fair.”

“…oh,” he spluttered, face lighting up crimson and warm.

You hummed, as if in agreement. But to what he wasn’t sure. You looked him over for a minute, like you were searching for something. And then you reached for his sweaty hand with your own and twined your fingers there in the grass.

“If everything always made sense, nothing would be what it is because everything would be what it isn't,” you said, like that was supposed to make any sense at all. “And contrariwise, what it is, it wouldn't be, and what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?"

“What on earth are you on about?” he gaped.

You burst into delighted giggles and tucked your nose against his hip. “Silly, silly. Stop trying to analyze everything, yes? It will only make things more confusing.”

You sighed and stretched, a contented smile on your lips. You reached up to tap a finger against his nose.

“Things don’t always have to make sense. That’s what makes it fun. And, well, if you’re really that determined to be able to figure out how things are supposed to go, we can do that later, yes?”

“…Right,” he managed to eek out after a long moment. Feeling far too light and far too… too something. “Later. There will be a later.”

And as much as that would have felt like a lie all those years ago—had been a lie even—when he said it now you looked up at him like he’d hung the stars in the sky. And he couldn’t help but hope for all the tomorrows in the world.

.

.

[ghost-bison]

Some of my favourite Doctor Who fanfiction (mostly One Shots)

Drawing Nearer by Geat (Ninth Doctor/reader, Ninth Doctor & reader) on AO3

This author understands the beauty of Nine like no one else does. Like fuck. Wow. If you want something immersive and soft and beautiful this is the one. Actually, even if you don't, this is the one. You need it in your life believe me. And! If you're into the Tenth Doctor instead, or just want more of the amazing stuff after you finish the first one, there's a sequel to it, Like One of My French Girls?, which explores the same prompt (reader drawing a portrait of the Doctor) with a freshly regenerated Tenth Doctor. Which is really clever and witty so you should read it as well.

Immolation by songofdefiance (Donna Noble & Twelfth Doctor, feat. Bill Potts) on AO3

This one is what would happen if the writers were geniuses. It's a whole episode and holy shit it doesn't matter who your favorite characters are: it's for everyone. It's so smart I felt like an idiot reading it. (and yes the 1k words comment on there is me lmao don't judge me I was just very enthusiastic)

Children of the Time War series by illyriashade56 (Donna Noble & Tenth Doctor) on AO3

There's a reason I've read so many fics from this author. Had trouble picking a favorite, and still can't, but this one deserves whatever publicity I can give it. It's got it all. Holy crap. Hurt/Comfort, nice Donna whump, amazing descriptions, solid plot, and you know what's good? Once you're done reading this one, you can check her account and read another one cause they're all so good. I haven't read part three yet cause I'm keeping it for a perfect night (do y'all do this as well or is it just me? anyways lol, some fanfics are just so good that I need to shower, change my bed sheets, make a playlist and clean my room before reading them) (also the author is nice and I'm referring you to her account if you want to check more of her stuff: @illyriashade56)

Run (To A New Beginning) by Topaz_Eyes (Donna Noble/Tenth Doctor) on AO3

Just like the previous one, I had trouble picking just one from this author. The sex scenes dont seem to exist just out of horniness, they're really, really good, funny, witty and moving in a way I can't explain. The author has a way with words, it feels like you're in the story (so if you're horny for Donna Noble this is the one for you). And if you don't like explicit scenes, still check out the author, they've got some other amazing stuff! Like a bittersweet, sort of fix-it for Donna's ending (Journey's End).

The Awesome and Entirely True Tale of the Doctor's New Companion by TheBigCat (Donna Noble/Ninth Doctor) on AO3

Honestly this one slaps on all aspects and that's all I have to say. You need to read it. And when you have, you need to read it again.

Stress Fracture by Youth_of_Australia (Donna Noble & Twelfth Doctor) on AO3

I wasn't expecting to love this one so much when I clicked on it. The author specifically says they don't like Twelve and that's their bitter take on him. So you'd expect it to be Twelve slander, but actually, and I'm saying that as a big Twelve fan... it's surprisingly accurate. It's a mature, well-thought take, in the point of view of Donna, it bathes in the remains of TenDonna's friendship in bittersweet ways and it's beautiful and sad and nostalgic.

The Greeting-Card Aisle by twelvedimensional (Donna Noble & Ninth Doctor) on AO3

Pissed myself reading this one (all three times), cause it's so real. This author knows what they're doing. Take Nine and Donna, put them in a room together and that's certainly what's gonna happen. And believe me, the result is side-splitting.

Constructive Criticism by goldenrod (Donna Noble/Ninth Doctor) on AO3

A very sexy take on Donna and Nine as traveling companions. Nine only has eyes for Donna and her boobies (as he should). Oh, and it's sassy and hilarious.

Creature Fear by goodbye2pisces (Donna Noble/Tenth Doctor, Donna Noble & Tenth Doctor) on AO3

This one could very well be canon. I need it as an audio book. It's cute, funny, there's a bit of Donna/Ten whump, it can be read as platonic or romantic, and it has the most adorable little epilogue.

Think Outside the Box by TheAsexualofSpades (Tenth Doctor & kid!reader) on AO3

Basically if you love Ten but don't wanna fuck him, if you had a rough day and no one's around for a hug, if you grew up with emotionally distant parents, or if you simply need to have a good crybaby moment, this one's for you.

I'm On Fire by TheDarkMaterial (Donna Noble/River Song, Donna Noble & River Song) on AO3

Just like the last one, this one's kinda like a warm blanket. It's short, it's healing, it might make you cry nice little tears... also idc it's canon to me.

Appetites by EllyF (Donna Noble & Tenth Doctor) on whofic.com

This one is hard to read because it's very graphic on the Ten whump, but... it's fucking worth it. Trust. Me. Jfc. It's Hurt/Comfort so don't worry for yourself, but the angst is real, the gore is terrific, there are some horrible comparisons in there that will absolutely draw some tears, and the frustration will be real, but when you're done with it, you'll be like Wow. Wtf did I just read.

Only Human by Louiecat68 (Donna Noble/Tenth Doctor) on whofic.com

If you're looking for Donna whump, search no more: this is the place. This one's pretty graphic, pretty horrible, Donna's going through it in all possible ways and you'll want to wrap her in a blanket, feed her burgers and hot chocolate and burn the world down around her. Quite literally.

The Doctor is In by crystanagahori (Martha Jones & Tenth Doctor, Martha Jones & Donna Noble, Donna Noble/Tenth Doctor) on AO3

This one's funny and so sweet and you have no trouble reading it in the characters' voices cause it's faithful to all three of them. I don't read Martha fics usually, I only clicked cause I saw TenDonna, but even if you're like me, you'll have no problem reading it even when it focuses on Martha's life, believe me. The vibe's just immaculate.

Your Eyes Aren't Rivers by ClementineCrane & Multifandomfuckfest (Donna Noble/Tenth Doctor) on AO3

Another one where the vibe's immaculate! Basically one of the things that made me want to write a Doctor Who High School AU of my own. Ten and Donna are absolutely adorable in this.

I'm tagging some people who'd probably be interested in one/some of those:

@bobcatblahs

@madhatter0309

@doctordonnasstuff

@brisingr-sword

@peggysbundy

@doctor-donnaa

@daze-stole-ur-milk

@obsessedanddepressed

@doctordonna-protection-squad

@jellojellyroll

@basmathgirl

@illyriashade56

@ichangemyusertoomuch

@tatennant

@paradox-n-bedrock

@cdyssey

@love-in-the-time

@davidtennan-t

@rushinintolove

@whatsfourteenupto

@nat-20s

@thegingergoddess

@odakota-rose

If some of you read/have read one or several of those and wanna interact feel free to dm me :)

[stargazer-sims]

1. Introduction (Video #1)

Caroline

Hey everybody!

My name is Caroline Okamoto-Nelson. I’m seventeen years old, and I live in Willow Creek. I like horses, cooking, shopping and J-pop. I really love swimming. I guess you might even say I'm obsessed with it. I'm really good at it too, and I have the medals to prove it.

People often comment that I look like both my parents, which is super funny to me since I’m not actually biologically related to them at all. I guess people say I resemble them because I have pale hair and blue eyes like Victor, and I have Japanese facial features like Yuri. Honestly, though, I don't mind if strangers assume I'm literally theirs. I am theirs in every way that matters, and being adopted is amazing because I know they love me enough to want to make me part of their family forever. I love them a lot, and even though I think about my biological parents sometimes, Victor and Yuri will always be my real parents.

Yeah, I have two dads, and to avoid things getting confusing I should let you know that I usually call them by their names. Some people think that's weird and a few people think it's disrespectful, but it's not weird to me. I started out as Victor and Yuri's foster child when I was six years old, after my biological father passed away, and I didn't want to call either of them Daddy or Papa or whatever. They were okay with that, and when they officially adopted me about a year later, the habit had already stuck.

I do call Victor 'Dad' sometimes, probably a lot more often than I call Yuri 'Papa'. Yuri says I only call him Papa when I really want something, which... is kinda not inaccurate. Luckily, he has a good sense of humour about it.

Let's see... Another important thing you should know about me straight away is that I'm blind. Before anybody starts demanding to know how a blind person can use a camera and make a video, remember blindness is a spectrum. Most people who fit into the category of blindness can see at least a little bit. There aren't that many people who're totally blind.

As for me, I was born with something called oculocutaneous albinism, which is why I look the way I do even though I'm one hundred percent Japanese. My condition means I have no pigment in my skin, hair and eyes, and it's why I have low vision.

I can see well enough to get around, but I do use my white cane at night or in unfamiliar places. I'm able to read large print, and I can see enough to use my computer and phone if I wear my glasses. I can do most normal things, actually. The only things that are really off-limits are driving and anything that requires good visual acuity, like cutting in a straight line, putting small objects together or sewing. Unfortunately, this means I'll never get to be a nurse like Victor. That's what I originally wanted to be, until I got older and started to understand my disability and finally realized that I don't see the same way everyone else does.

I don't want anybody to feel sorry for me because of my disability. I'm not unhappy or bitter about it and I don't need anyone's sympathy or pity. As a matter of fact, I have an awesome life, and I wouldn't want to change a thing.

On the subject of my life, that brings me around to why I'm making this video in the first place. I just started twelfth grade last week, and my best friends Forest and Camellia and I decided to sign up for media studies as one of our electives. The course runs for the whole school year, and we have to do one major project as well as some small assignments. Camellia and Forest got permission to work together — they're twins and they seem to want to do practically everything together — and they're making a podcast. I decided my project is going to be a documentary about myself. A video autobiography, I suppose you could say.

The plan is to chronicle my life from now till June, but it's not just going to be a video journal about random stuff that happens to me this year. I want to tell the story of my life so far, about how I went from being an unwanted baby in Japan to being the loved, talented, cute and successful person I am today.

These videos aren't going to be only me talking in front of a camera, either. I'm planning to interview my friends and family, and maybe also to give them the camera so they can record some thoughts of their own. Then, I'll edit everything and get it ready for the final presentation.

I've decided to call it Caroline & Company. I may be the main subject of this story, but nobody can exist alone. We all need company. I don't think it'd even be possible to survive without the guidance and support of family and friends, not to mention teachers, coaches, therapists, doctors and all the other people we interact with on a daily basis. Every person in my life is important, so I feel like they need to be acknowledged in some way.

Our teacher, Mr. Blanchet, is going to help our class design a website so that all our projects will be available for everyone to see at the end of the school year. Maybe it's nerdy of me to be excited for a school project, but I"m really looking forward to doing this, and I can hardly wait to see what my classmates come up with as well.

I think it's going to be an incredible year!

[thatchronicfeeling]

It has come to my attention that it's Period Drama Appreciation Week 2023. I love period dramas and grew up watching them. They have been a formative part of my life and I'm now too disabled to watch video. Even gifs are too difficult for my brain to process. It is also Bi Visibility Week and I'm posting this on Bisexual Visibility Day. Since I can't safely post a pile of gifs, here is a list celebrating actors/characters/moments from period dramas that have been significant to my bisexuality. [Yes, this is a big list. I am missing out on watching and re-watching A Lot of awesome period dramas and I hate it. This list is helping me reclaim a bit of joy. Also I've probably forgotten some favourites and may update this.]

Lori Petty in A League of Their Own

Jodhi May in any period drama

Mary Wickes in any period drama

Freddy Honeychurch in A Room with a View

Anne Hathaway playing cricket in that rust-coloured dress in Becoming Jane

Esther Summerson (disabled heroine!) & Allan Woodcourt in Bleak House

the freshly-painted yellow cabin door swinging shut with the names 'Calam & Katie' painted on it in Calamity Jane

the sequence where Doris Day sings 'Secret Love' in Calamity Jane

Michelle in Derry Girls (and James too, a wee bit)

George Eliot & Lenore in Edgar Allan Poe's Murder Mystery Dinner Party

the moment where Emma and Mr Knightley start dancing together and it feels like you're inside the music in Emma

Polly Waker's haircut in The Enchanted April

Matthias Schoenaerts in Far From the Madding Crowd

Idgie & Ruth in Fried Green Tomatoes

Suranne Jones in Gentleman Jack

recognising Marian Lister as a bisexual who hasn't realised it yet in Gentleman Jack

Mary Agnes McNue in Godless

Bel & Freddie in The Hour

June Allyson leaping over a hedge (or is it a fence?) as Jo March in Little Women

the Patricia Rozema adaptation of Mansfield Park

the whole sequence where Judy Garland strides onto the neighbours' porch to sock The Boy Next Door in the jaw in Meet Me in St Louis

Katie the cook in Meet Me in St Louis

the moment where Benedick braces his arm against a doorframe in a desperate panic to stop Beatrice from going to eat Claudio's heart in the marketplace in Much Ado About Nothing

Denzel Washington in Much Ado About Nothing

Mr Thornton's hands (ok, and also his face) in North & South

tomboy Doris Day in On Moonlight Bay

Valentine in Parade's End

all of Portrait of a Lady on Fire

Papi in Pose

Lizzy Bennet declaring that she would never marry someone she did not love in Pride & Prejudice

Mr Darcy diving into a pond in Pride & Prejudice

both Angel and Joanne in Rent (the 2008 broadway version)

Martha the maid in The Secret Garden

Lelia Walker in Self-Made

swashbuckling Margaret Dashwood in Sense & Sensibility

the dance sequences in Seven Brides for Seven Brothers

the whole Thomas Kent situation in Shakespeare in Love

Maria (when she is not a nun) in The Sound of Music

Kitty Butler onstage in Tipping the Velvet

Annie and Janette and Jacques and Linh in Treme

Audra McDonald and Anne Hathaway and Raúl Esparza in that promotional photo for Twelfth Night

Julie Andrews and her male co-star singing a version of 'Home on the Range' with the line 'and the deer and the antelope are gay' in Victor/Victoria

Justine Waddell in Wives & Daughters

[butchhamlet]

Hello!! When I tell you I literally use your blog as a Shakespeare resource ALL THE TIME like I just have so much respect for all your takes and your ability to hold so much in your head?? Insane. I am vv curious to hear your thoughts & feelings about Maria from Twelfth Night?? I just got cast as her in a very cool production and while I’m working on my own interpretation I am very curious and interested in what you think are important things to bear in mind with her!! <3

HI ANON!!! SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO ANSWER YOU HAVE PROBABLY FIGURED OUT EVERYTHING ABOUT YOUR OWN MARIA BY NOW AND PERHAPS HAVE EVEN DONE YOUR SHOW (IN WHICH CASE I HOPE IT WENT WELL; IF NOT THEN GOOD LUCK!)

but yeah! yeah! maria! i think about her! she fascinates me, actually, because it's--i was going to say "hard to tell whose side she's ever on," but that makes twelfth night sound like some kind of war plot, when the gulling subplot is in fact just an elaborate prank. but i guess i can say that she fascinates me because her feelings toward olivia and toby are never entirely clear. she's olivia's maid, and they seem to have some fondness for each other, but she's also not above imitating olivia's handwriting (and thus kind of? impersonating her?) for a prank that olivia doesn't get to know about (and depending on how you interpret malvolio and olivia, this could be either maria going "haha this'll be so funny" or maria just not caring if this man makes olivia uncomfortable). and she seems to care about toby as well, and certainly jokes around with he and andrew, but it's also clear that she is exasperated if not harried by his constant bullshit. and yet she marries him--does that prove that she loves him, and the annoyance she feels about him partying at odd hours is just that, annoyance, because the people we love have flaws? or does she marry toby because it's her shot at social mobility? how much does she resent being a maid? is toby her stepladder or her true love or both? does she recognize that irony that by marrying toby she's doing exactly what malvolio hoped to do and can't--marrying up and becoming part of the household nobility? and does she feel bad for him?

anyway beyond all that i think she's fucking awesome. when toby was like "maria you could step on my throat" he was right. don't worry queen i know you're the root of some have greatness thrust upon them

[all-peristeronic]

AO3 Wrapped 2023

aka just some fics I enjoyed in 2023 and would recommend aka oops I need to finish this list already

Where the Wild Things Are by ArabellaMoxie Fandom: Ladyhawke (1985) Main Ship: Isabeau/Philippe/Navarre Rated T, 3600 words This is a really satisfying glimpse into the lives of the main trio post-canon. I love how it explores the idea that no, you can't just go back to normal after being forced to live as a wolf/hawk, and also the ot3 should never split up. Also Mouse's interior monologue is great, with his resigned longing for Isabeau and Navarre.

Hitting the High C's by beware-of-italics Fandom: Our Flag Means Death Main Ships: Ed/Stede, Stede & the crew Rated T, 29600 words A really fun story of that particular subgenre of fic where the author is writing about a particular subculture they know well or subject they're passionate about. Turning Stede into a newly-out high school theatre kid with delusional confidence in his acting and directing ability absolutely works. In this high school au, Stede somehow manages to stage a musical while falling in love with the best actor in the cast, Edward Teach. I also particularly like the bits with Mary and Lucius, as a break from Stede's whole Stede-ness.

Rocking the Cat-Eyes by buggachat Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Main Ships: Adrien/Marinette, Adrien/self-discovery Rated T, 18000 words In which Adrien Agreste figures out that he's not so cis, a concept that I 100% believe in. Adrien's confusion and fear of coming out had my heart in my throat, it felt so real, but it's okay, the ending is so sweet.

This Precious Time When Time is New by Dee_Moyza Fandom: Blue Castle - L.M. Montgomery Main Ship: Barney/Valancy F/M, Rated T, 7000 words An exploration of Valancy and Barney in the very first days of their fake marriage. I'm not just recommending this because it was my gift for the Rare Pair Exchange, I'm also recommending it because the the descriptions of Mistawis are beautiful and perfectly Montgomery-esque and I really like the romantic tension running through the fic.

#strongpoison by dotsayers Fandom: Lord Peter Wimsey - Dorothy L. Sayers Main Ships: Peter/Harriet, Harriet/getting justice Rated T, 3400 words A modern AU in which instead of being arrested for murder, Harriet Vane is the center of a twitter storm after being accused of plagiarizing her ex. I really enjoyed the social media/found document format, especially the fake Wikipedia pages. Norman Urquhart loses his money investing in NFTs, Peter Wimsey posts medieval marginalia on twitter, and Eiluned Price is just awesome. I read this at work on my lunch break and my day was immediately 100 times better.

The Quality of Mercy by MiraMira Fandom: Twelfth Night - Shakespeare Main Ships: Olivia/Sebastian, Antonio & Sebastian, Orsino/Viola Rated T, 12700 words At Antonio's suggestion, Sebastian disguises himself as a woman and takes a job with Olivia at the same time as "Cesario" takes a job with Orsino. Shenanigans ensue. If this were printed on paper, I'd call it a page-turner, by which I mean I also read this while at work and probably anybody who walked past could see me grinning at my phone.

thirst is all i know (you will be the water) by susiecarter Fandom: Original Work Main Ship: Prince of One Country/Bastard Son of Enemy Country's Ruler Rated M, 16000 words I first read this more than a year ago, and recently I found myself randomly thinking about how much I enjoyed the worldbuilding, the political machinations that drive the plot, and the central romance. I consider that a mark of a good story. It's an arranged marriage story in which the two husbands have to overcome the culture clash between fantasy-Egypt culture and fantasy-Byzantine culture and the lasting impact of a traumatic upbringing.

[caffeinejournalist23]

Suburban Nightmare The Scariest Part About Moving to the Suburbs is the Fear of Having to Move Back to the Hood

I grew up in the "hood" of Northwest Ohio and throughout my childhood I was repeatedly told by teachers and social workers "you have to have a college degree." To survive, to live a good life, or to go on vacation once a year, they never specified why we needed to have one - the adults just told us this from the third grade onward in a tone that was serious and haunted us as we clawed our way to high school graduation. Well I moved to the suburbs to pursue a college education, received my Bachelor of Arts, but then wound up jobless for the first 2.5 months after graduating, fearing that I may have to return to the life I thought I left behind in the hood.

This is what it was like.

Part 1/3: Restless

The first few days were not too bad.

I finished school on a Tuesday and had the graduation ceremony the following Saturday. Though I was anxious to begin working full time again after taking almost a month off to focus on school, I forced myself to appreciate having a few days to catch my breath after completing the toughest semester of my undergrad career - under the assumption that my boss would call me back to give me my schedule as promised.

But they never called me back.

I texted. I called. I emailed. Nothing.

I reached a supervisor in my department who promised they would make sure my employer called me once they returned from vacation, but the supervisor also warned me "if you get a new opportunity, take it, because I'm not sure what [they] are planning with you."

I texted. I called. I emailed - for weeks.

Still nothing.

Feeling scorned, neglected as an employee, and painfully confused, I knew I shouldn't go back; not only was I completely ghosted, but this happened on top of several occasions prior when I was not paid on time, not paid the proper amount, and even scammed by a company hacker. And I knew I didn't deserve the shame of going back to a place begging for employment where I had already been so mistreated.

So the job search began.

Part time. Part-time remote. Entry level. Entry level temporary. Full-time summer. Freelance. Temporary full-time summer.

The amount of key terms I came up with to expand my search for jobs ought to have earned me a certificate in SEO optimization. Within a matter of weeks I had easily applied for hundreds of jobs; some remote, some on-site, some part-time, some full-time, some freelance, some temporary.

Job applications had just one line to mention my education - school, degree, and major; I have a degree in English and Digital Media Studies. I could generalize my degree to a Bachelor's in digital communications. I minored in criminal and social justice. I took a digital photography class. I've completed course service-learning hours and internships with a variety of non-profits. I took an HTML coding class. I wrote a parody of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night. I graduated with a 3.6 GPA. I got an A+ in a digital journalism class. I wrote a 20+ page essay for my capstone that I plan to expand into a book. My second capstone was a documentary I could submit to a film festival. These extra points of academic accomplishment were bullet-listed in applications where there was a degree description space, otherwise these were only recognized and respected in my LinkedIn profile.

There wasn't enough space in the education history line to explain all of the challenges I surpassed or all of the awesome awards and accomplishments I earned while getting the degree to write in my education history. I started a student org focused on newscasting. I was the VP of our Black Student Union for 2 years and spoke on behalf of the union at a peaceful protest following the death of George Floyd. I won recognition for Student Org of the Year - twice in a row. I became the student manager of the student engagement department. I was an active member of the Latino Student Union for over 3 years. I petitioned for a town-hall meeting for students and faculty to better our DEI awareness across campus. I was invited to a one-on-one meeting with the university president. I advocated for PRISM and LGBTQ+ acceptance across our campus. I hosted and evaluated numerous surveys to better serve our campus community. I participated in a plethora of volunteer opportunities and campus events. I was an orientation leader. I was an RA. I served as a mentor to underclassmen. My name consistently appeared on the Dean's List.

Suddenly it seemed like my degree did not carry much value. Few job postings prioritized candidates with my degree type - "digital communications but a degree in marketing preferred." It's like they wanted the skills earned from my degree as part of the job description, not the qualifications. Most job postings didn't seem to value my degree at all: "remote communications strategist - degree in journalism or other related field a plus, not a requirement." I had slaved for four years; four years of 18 - 21 credit hour semesters while spear-heading a student org and working anywhere from 2 to 4 jobs at a time, and some trauma healing/family drama because the Universe likes to keep herself entertained I guess. I was the first in my family for over 4 generations to earn a college degree. I took out tens of thousands in student loans. I went to an exam on 4 hours of sleep. I closed work at 1am and went to class the next morning at 8. I had nervous breakdowns and still got my 8-page essays turned in by 11:59pm.

But none of that seemed to matter. In the eyes of employers, overcoming all of those obstacles and challenges did not reflect how I was a good candidate for their position.

The only thing employers seemed to really take into consideration was previous work experience; that shouldn't have been a problem for me, as my resume was rich with experience by having to work to pay for school anyway. I'm a previous graphic designer. I was an intern for a local newspaper. I was a full-time social media manager for one summer. I have various experience mentoring kids/students ages 14 through 19. I was a shift leader at Family Video before the pandemic made us close all our stores. I was a remote political journalist during the 2022 midterms. I've been a coffee barista and was promoted to opening shift leader after my first 30 days. I coordinated a friend's wedding. I became a freelance state manager for a remote election reporting company. I managed the student engagement department and adapted our traditional events to a virtual medium. I've filed parking permits and incident reports. I've painted yard signs. I've hosted people to their dining seats. I've supervised. I've lead. I've delegated. I've supported. I've created. And I've always worked so so hard because in any and every job I could not sleep at night unless I did my best.

The few jobs I did hear back from said they chose "a better candidate" - aka someone with more experience. Either places are preferring to hire older people who have had the chance to garner more experience after college, or getting a college degree is redundant - and that notion of my hard work, discipline, and financial sacrifices from the past four years amounting to arbitrary value was what really started to freak me out.

The college dorm I was escaping homelessness in started looking like a haunted house; the frustration and hopelessness was written in the walls. My life started getting scary. Had my hopes and dreams been built on a lie? Was college just a deferment of the demise set for me by being born and raised in poverty?

The vacancy of my roommate's absence was soon followed by my own absence of income, food, and purpose. No meal plan. No job. No savings. No fail safe. No side hustle.

And no idea what to do next.

[gilberts-video-diary-hwsau]

A Friend and a Playwright

~~~~

The camera starts and Gilbert, now sporting a pair of glasses, looks positively terrified. Another boy with long blonde hair is sitting next to him, covering his mouth with a hand to hold back laughter. The boy, recognizable as the Francis from

“So, my friend, anything you want to tell the video diary?” He smirks and leans towards Gilbert, “anything about a certain blonde?”

Gilbert covers his face with his hands, though it doesn’t do much to hide the bright blush against his pale skin, “shut up, Francis! You’re so embarrassing!”

“Am I?” Francis laughs and throws an arm around Gilbert’s shoulders. “Maybe you should tell me more about what I overheard Mathias telling you!” Francis looks to the camera, “do you hear that, Gilbert’s diary, he won’t tell us about the date that Mathias asked him on!”

“It’s not a date! We just need to work on a project together!” He sinks down further into his chair, half-hiding away from the camera’s gaze.

“Sure,” Francis smiles, “you’re not at all hoping that your little study date will end in a kiss?” He bursts into laughter and pulls one of Gilbert’s hands away from his face. “Tell me!”

“Kissing is weird, Francis,” he pushes his friend off him and leans down to pull something out of his backpack. Gilbert sticks his tongue out at Francis and sets his notebook on the desk, flipping to a page to show his friend. “See, it’s for the Shakespere project.”

Francis takes the notebook from Gilbert, “and yet you joined Mathias when trios were allowed?” He raises an eyebrow as he reads. “It looks like you two haven’t picked a scene yet”

“We haven’t picked a play yet,” Gilbert admits, rather embarrassed. “What are you and Toni doing?”

“Twelfth Night, we convinced my cousin Matthew to join our group.” He continues to look through Gilbert’s notes, “I want to do something with Orsino’s court or maybe one of the scenes near the end where everything is figured out and everyone falls in love, but Toni wants to do something with the pirate and Sebastian.”

“And what about your cousin, Matthew?”

“Oh, he doesn’t really mind which scene, which is the issue. We don’t have a tie breaker.”

Gilbert rolls his eyes and points to something on the page, “I kinda want to do a scene between Macbeth and Lady Macbeth.”

Francis’ eyes light up, “oh, so you want to play a married couple with him?”

The blush returns to Gilbert’s face and he pulls the notebook away from Francis, “no! I just think that they have a cool dynamic!”

“Yes, they do. If you really wanted to play a romantic couple you would have picked a comedy,” Francis nods, though his voice is laced with slight sarcasm. “What scenes were you thinking about?”

Gilbert sets the notebook down, “well, there’s the first scene with Lady Macbeth, y’know the one with her monologue and the ‘unsex me here’ stuff? Then Macbeth comes in and they talk about Duncan. I also liked scene seven.”

“Which scene seven?”

“Act one.”

Francis nods, “the one where she calls him ‘hardly a man’ or something along those lines?”

“Yeah! That one!” Gilbert smiles, “It starts out with a Macbeth monologue, and I think that Mathias would be a good Macbeth.”

“So that makes you the lady?” Francis frowns, “isn’t that uncomfortable?”

“No, she’s a badass and sold her womanhood away so she could be awesome. I’m not a woman and I’m awesome, we’re practically the same.”

Francis nods, accepting Gilbert’s sound reasoning fairly quickly. “And is that why you want to do the scene where she sells her womanhood away?

“Yeah,” Gilbert leans back in his chair. “Maybe when we get to rewrite some scenes into our own version of the play-”

“Our own adaptations?” Francis supplies with a smile.

“Yeah, that,” Gilbert rolls his eyes and keeps talking, “I was going to say that maybe we can make Lady Macbeth like me.”

“You could call the play Macbeth squared.” The two boys burst into laughter and Gilbert whacks Francis’ arm with the notebook.

“Maybe I’ll just rewrite the whole show. Lady Macbeth can be King instead of Macbeth.”

Francis snorts, “they can rule as equals too.”

“Yeah! Mathias would probably love that!”

Francis glances over to the computer, “oh! Anything else you need to say to your video thing?”

“Huh? Oh yeah! Forgot it was on,” he laughs and reaches for the button, “Sincerely, Gilbert!”

He hits Francis lightly with his free hand, “ow! And Francis!”

The camera clicks off.

[puzzycatdoll]

🙆‍♂️ Yeah!! Happy Loy Krathong to all my beloved IG friends 🪔🌸💮 🤭 Oops! Before starting my feed today, I've got to tell my friends all over the world "What is Loy Krathong?" Loy Krathong Day is one of the most popular festivals of Thailand celebrated annually on the Full-Moon night of the Twelfth Lunar Month. It takes place at a time when the weather is fine as the rainy season is over and there is a high water level all over the country. "Loy" means "to float" and a "Krathong" is a lotus-shaped vessel made of banana leaves. The Krathong usually contains a candle, three joss-sticks, some flowers and coins. Many Thais also use this festival to ask forgiveness for any wrongdoings that they've committed upon the water, such as littering or wasteful usage. The story of Loy Krathong is quite a lot of details. I'm going to tell you more in the next episode. Geez! Almost forgot to tell ya, today I am the representative of school to say the Speech about Loy Krathong in English on the stage as well. 😌 Yep! 👊 I did it without nerves and excitement 🧏‍♂️ Furthermore, my Krathong also won the 1st prize too🔝@ 1️⃣ 👏 Hey...C'mon!...Let's sing and dance with me in Thai traditional style, known as "Lam Wong" 🙌👌🕺💃 Loy Krathong Song 🎶🎵 November, Full-Moon-shine November full moon shine Loy Krathong.. Loy Krathong.. And the water high In the gold river and the Klong Loy Loy Krathong Loy Loy Krathong Loy Krathong is here And everybody full of cheer We’re together at the Klong Each one with his Krathong As we push away we pray, We can see a better day.... Hope y'all have a wonderful Loy Krathong day 💮🕯 สุขสันต์วันลอยกระทงนะกัฟ เพิ่ลๆที่น่าฮักของผม 😙 จุฟๆๆ....Love y'all 💓 💮 🌸 💮 🌸 💮 🌸 💮 #instagram #instapic #instaphoto #instalike #instadaily #mylove #likes #style #picoftheday #art #loykrathong2022 #festival #goodvibes #photo #happy #beautiful #happyme #cute #nice #beauty #pretty #fyp #photography #cool #amazing #awesome #moment #wonderful #gorgeous #photooftheday (ที่ Bangkok Thailand) https://www.instagram.com/p/CksxSGRp79j/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[nancykali]

Medieval AU where Steve is a prince, and Nancy is his betrothed, except they both feel v guilty bc Nancy cant stop think about the Court Painter AKA jonathan(who also happens to be Steve's childhood best friend)and Steve has a huge crush on Nancys lady in waiting/bodyguard (Kali) but they feel even more guilty bc they still love each other and when they finally admit it theyre both relieved bc they can completely understand why the other feels that way bc theyre in love with the other person too

🙌BLESS THIS AU

@foxy-mulder this just made me think of BBC’s Merlin except with the ot4 and if you have anything to add to this please do!!

OMG and Jonathan secretly having a longtime crush on Steve but having hidden it for years because Steve’s been betrothed to Nancy forever. But when he finally meets Nancy he’s like “omg she’s perfect for Steve she’s so beautiful and kind and they’ll be amazing rulers together how could I care for Steve I’m so selfish and Nancy is so beautiful…oh shit”

And Kali finds herself flirting with Steve when they first meet and she feels guilty and tries to ignore him from that point. She’s also had a longtime love for Nancy that she has kept telling herself is just platonic friendship (but it’s gay, so gay) and when Nancy confesses she’s falling in love with Jonathan she’s like “oh I know exactly how this feels… wait. Shit”.

POLY BBS BEING SO POLY AND BI AND THEN CONFESSING IN THIS BIG DRAMATIC REVEAL LIKE SOME SHAKESPEAREAN DRAMA AND THEN THEY LIVE HEA FUCK YEAH

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Crocoduel

When you stop and think about it, this episode is really just the world's most intense custody battle.

Let's get into the thirteenth (chronologically the twelfth) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Crocoduel

We start off with the band Kitty Section (composed of Luka, his timid sister Juleka, her “best friend” Rose, and Ivan) performing a concert for the super amazing Zoe and all the peons beneath her greatness (Alya, Alix, Nino, and Mylene). Luka notes its been a while since Marinette came to the Liberty. Because I guess even the show wants to forget the events of “Sole Crusher”.

Luka is still upset that Marinette hasn't wanted to be around him since their breakup, so after he walks away, the others scheme to force them to spend time together.

Yep, even though they promised to back off in “Gang of Secrets”, Marinette's friends are once again trying to meddle in Marinette's personal life as well as Luka's this time. Because it's not like they can understand how hard it is for two exes to remain friends after a breakup and give them their space, right? They plan to invite Marinette to Luka and Juleka's birthday party while reminding the audience that they're twins.

YES. THEY HAVE ALWAYS BEEN TWINS. ASTRUC HAS NEVER SAID OTHERWISE OR CONTRADICTED THIS STATEMENT IN THE PAST.

LUKA WAS NEVER TWO YEARS OLDER THAN JULEKA, JUST LIKE THERE WAS NEVER A WAR IN BA SING SE.

In all seriousness, I do feel like I was a little hard on Astruc for this. Compared to other things he's made canon on Twitter, this is fairly minor, and we only knew Luka was the older brother at first through a tweet. And considering the other retcon we'll see in the very next scene, this isn't as big of a deal as I made it initially.

Alya invites Marinette to the party, but she easily deduces that it's a trap. Alya then tries to convince Marinette to talk to Luka.

Uh... since when? When did Marinette lose all romantic feelings for Luka? The whole point of the breakup in “Truth” was to show that she couldn't pursue a romantic relationship with Luka because of her duties as Ladybug. She never showed any signs of not loving him, which made the breakup all the more tragic. Yeah, “Mr. Pigeon 72” was an excuse for her to go back to loving Adrien because the writers don't know how to write anything else, but it didn't mean she stopped loving Luka. You know, it's almost like the writers want to make sure the audience knows Lukanette will never happen and the sacred Love Square is the only way Marinette will ever feel love for someone else.

Alya still forces Marinette to go, making her ask Juleka if Luka won't be there. Some people have gone down on Marinette for this, but she does later acknowledge how wrong this was to ask, and apologizes to Juleka for trying to force her to do something she didn't want to do. If only Marinette's friends learned the same lesson.

Juleka goes to tell Luka about the party, but hesitates to tell Luka he can't go there. While he knows Juleka is hiding something, Luka is distracted by the sudden arrival of his father who he loves despite abandoning him for his entire life, Jagged Stone. However, Luka and Juleka's mother, the anarchy-loving Anarka isn't happy that much like his sperm when the condom broke, Jagged came in without her permission.

At the day of the party, Marinette panics as soon as she sees Luka, who in turn realizes she didn't want to see him. Rather than comfort Juleka who just ran away crying, the others comfort Luka, preventing him from being akumatized by Shadowmoth, though he still keeps his Akuma around just to be safe. Marinette apologizes to Juleka before Shadowmoth can akumatize her too (even though she got a Magical Charm in “Guiltrip” so it wouldn't work either way). Then Shadowmoth tries to akumatize one of the guests as they find out Jagged (who just arrived) is Luka's father, but since they're dumb teenagers who don't know Jagged was winning awards and being celebrated as a rock icon while Anarka was working two jobs and struggling to make enough money for rent, they think it's awesome. Very confusing day for Shadowmoth, isn't it?

Marinette also finds out Jagged is Juleka's father and finds out Juleka worries Jagged loves Luka more since they share more interests, which she thinks is true when Jagged gives Luka a guitar case and instructs her to not tell his sister. Marinette tries to call out Jagged for neglecting Juleka over Luka even though Jagged was more of a father to his pet crocodile than either of his biological children, but it's obviously a gift for Juleka, the first bass guitar Jagged ever owned, which calms her down. Funny how nobody acknowledges how Jagged practically abandoned his family, isn't it? Sure, it looks like he's trying to make up for it, but he just acts like he's always been Luka and Juleka's dad and they don't have any problems with their father literally never being in their lives until now.

Jagged's gift to Luka is a record of the first record he made in his band with Anarka before they broke up, Crododuel, but Anarka is naturally pissed he wants to give that to Luka. Jagged and Anarka argue over which one was the Yoko Ono in their relationship while they both grab the record, which Shadowmoth uses to akumatize the two as it breaks, turning them back into Guitar Villain and Captain Hardrock respectively, Shadowmoth labeling them as Crocoduel.

Unlike the other team Akumas like the Punishers or the Gang of Secrets, Guitar Villain and Captain Hardrock care more about fighting each other than working together, and they see getting Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous as a competition to help prove who was right in their argument. It's a pretty interesting gimmick, though I don't get how Shadowmoth thinks this will help him and not ignore Ladybug and Cat Noir while they fight.

Alya provides a distraction to help Marinette transform, and after we get Adrien's single scene to remind the audience he's still a main character, he transforms into Cat Noir. The two heroes give chase, but then Guitar Villain and Captain Hardrock decide to take their fight to above the clouds.

Yeah, it's not like you have a form that specifically allows you two to fly, right?

All they had to say was that Marinette was still making more potions for that form, and it would have been better than ignoring the fact that they can fly.

Much like the hotel room during the night Luka and Juleka were conceived, the crossfire from Guitar Villain and Captain Hardrock's fight starts to damage the area around them. Ladybug and Cat Noir get Luka and Juleka to safety, and Luka tells them about what's happening, while Ladybug spouts the lesson about people needing to talk even though they don't love each other anymore, reflecting the situation the writers retconned her into learning.

Ladybug summons her Lucky Charm, a roll of scotch tape, and comes up with an idea that involves Juleka. She takes her away into an alleyway and gives her the Tiger Miraculous. The tiger Kwami, Roarr, demands Juleka show some courage, so Juleka yells in her face. Unfortunately, as much as I want to show this scene, the subs I got don't really match up, so I can't really give some screenshots of it. So I guess you can watch this scene from Full Metal Jacket instead to get the gist of things.

So Juleka takes the Tiger Miraculous and transforms into Purple Tigress.

I think the suit has a pretty good design. I like the striped pattern with the gold highlights around the black stripes, and think the color scheme is visually pleasing, especially the hair. I wouldn't call it one of my favorite hero suits, but I still like the way it looks.

Cat Noir launches Ladybug and Purple Tigress into the air where they split up to steal both halves of the record, but when they break them, no Akuma comes out. It turns out that since the record was broken while Jagged and Anarka were akumatized, they need to put it together again before breaking it in order to free the Akuma.

Purple Tigresse goes to distract Guitar Villain and Captain Hardrock with her power, Collision, which she uses to KNOCK CAPTAIN HARDROCK'S SHIP ABOVE THE CLOUDS, TAKING GUITAR VILLAIN WITH HER.

Why the hell did it take four seasons to break this Miraculous out if it gives the user the ability to go Super Saiyan on the enemy? I think Cat Noir's expression after seeing the power in action says it all.

Cat Noir Cataclysms the record (because a record is just so hard to break without using the power of destruction, isn't it?), Ladybug de-evilizes the Akuma, uses Miraculous Ladybug to fix everything, Jagged and Anarka somehow weren't killed by their own daughter, the three heroes pound it, and Ladybug gives two Magical Charms to Jagged and Anarka.

Back at the Liberty, Juleka tells the two to forget what caused them to break up and just apologize while they ignore the past, proving the writers really don't get how hard it is to move on from tough events in life. And despite building it up for the entire episode, Marinette and Luka talk in the final thirty seconds of the episode and just agree to be friends, meaning once again, Luka was sidelined in what should have been a focus episode for him.

Aside from the way Jagged and Anarka's relationship was portrayed coupled with the retcons surrounding Luka, this episode was alright in my opinion. Guitar Villain and Captain Hardrock are some of my favorite Akumas, so I thought it was nice to see them again, even if we didn't get to see their powers at full potential. I also thought this was a really good episode for Juleka, as I felt like the hero debut really helped her grow as a person and didn't just feel like she was given a Miraculous because the plot said so. She wanted to help her parents, and using the Tiger gave her the courage to symbolically speak out while potentially launching them into the stratosphere.

But the biggest problem to me has to be the way Jagged is portrayed in the episode. Just like with “Truth”, the idea of Jagged being a terrible parent is just swept under the rug and everyone just accepts the fact that Jagged is Luka and Juleka's dad very well. Despite the idea leading to some interesting drama in a show that's no stranger to family drama, they don't really do much with the whole “Jagged abandoning Anarka” thing. Aside from a brief interaction between Luka and Jagged while the former was akumatized into Truth, nobody is really angry at Jagged. Nobody really feels angry at Jagged for what he did, despite the drama being the main focus behind the episode that also had the Lukanette breakup. You would think this would at least lead to some tension between his family, but nothing really comes from it other than an argument that was pretty much played for laughs. But considering this show has a history of teaching kids to love their parents no matter how cruel they are to them, I'm not entirely surprised.

Overall, it's just a decent, albeit forgettable episode. If the writing with Jagged was different, it could have been a lot better in my opinion.

[five-rivers]

Hobbies

Phic phight! @idiot-cheesehead-archenemy

A series of vignettes about Danny having various hobbies.

(Master the Orb)

Danny exhaled slowly as the ice built up between his hands.  Each new layer glittered in the ghostlight cast by the overhead ambient ectoplasm, embedding complex patterns in the overall piece as new layers built up over it.

“Very good, Great One,” rumbled Frostbite behind his shoulder.  “Your control has improved immensely.”

Danny inhaled equally slowly, examining his work so far but not adding to it quite yet.  “I don’t know.  It looks a little lopsided.”

“Mmm, it looks fine to me.  Especially for such an early attempt.”

Danny sighed, exhaling the ice he had built up with his breath.  “So, it is lopsided.”

“Consider it practice,” said Frostbite, encouragingly. “It takes time to master art of any kind.”

“Humans do ice sculpture, too,” mumbled Danny. “They get really good, too.  I’ve seen pictures.  And videos.  They don’t even have ice powers.”  He rubbed his thumb over the surface, smoothing over a slightly rougher patch.

“That may be true,” said Frostbite, “but, again, you just started, Great One.  You have only had your powers for a little while.  Give yourself some support.”

Danny shrugged.  “I guess it isn’t something my life depends on, so I can relax about it.” He built up another layer of ice. “This is oddly therapeutic, and I don’t say therapeutic lightly.  You know Jazz.”

“I do indeed,” said Frostbite, somewhat ruefully, head half-bowed.  

Jazz could be a force of nature, even more so than ice powers.

He held the ice orb up to the light.  It caught on the patterns he had placed there. Fractals were the easiest.  He was hoping that if he got better, he’d be able to make real sculptures with patterns in them, instead of just orbs.  

But, first, he had to master the orb.  Just like how when drawing you had to do circles first.  Circle. Orb.

Ooorb.  Yep.  

The controlled application of ice.  The evenness of the internal patterns.  The solidity, density, and durability.  

His orb was… not very orblike, despite what Frostbite said.  Frostbite probably thought he was making so flat on purpose.  

Yeah.  He was terrible at this.  

He was having fun, though.  

.

.

 (Furnace)

“You’re taking up glass blowing?” asked Tucker, surprised.

“Yeah?  Is there a problem?” asked Danny, reaching over to stop his friend from accidentally drawing a line of orange sharpie across his poster on the themes in Macbeth.

“No!” said Tucker, quickly.  “But, like, why?  It just seems… unlike you.”

“Exactly,” said Danny, nodding sharply.  “It has absolutely nothing to do with my powers and nothing to do with my family.  Plus, I had a coupon.”

“For glass blowing?”

“It was a groupon,” said Danny.  “For making Christmas tree ornaments.  I’m going to do it with Jazz.”

“But, Danny,” said Sam, looking over from where she was working on her own poster about Twelfth Night, “glass blowing, uh, involves a lot of heat.”

“Sure?”

“Danny, you have an ice core.”

“Ah,” said Danny.  “Well.   I’ve got to use that groupon.  If it doesn’t work out, it’s only the once, right?”

.

“Oh my gosh,” said Danny, wringing sweat out of his t-shirt.  “That was awesome!”  He giggled to himself and peaked into the annealer again.  “So awesome!”

“Uh huh,” said Jazz.  Her attempts had been… rather less successful than Danny’s, partially because she was trying so hard to make them perfect.  But she had managed a few little baubles, nonetheless.  “I think these’ll all be good for the tree. Assuming we get one.”

“And it isn’t set on fire.”

“Oh, yeah, that was a bad year.”

He squeaked open the annealer again, only closing it when the instructor lightly scolded him.  “They’re so terrible and lopsided,” said Danny.  

“Hey,” said Jazz.  “Mine are fine.”

“I know!  I was talking about mine.”

“Ah, okay then.  I agree.”

“You aren’t supposed to agree.”

“What, you want me to lie?  And after you said it first?”

“No,” said Danny.  “But you could be nicer about it.”

“I’m your sister, what do you expect?”

.

.

 (Lung Capacity)

Danny let the last note trail off to complete silence. He stared apprehensively at the assembled student body.  Curse Mr. Lancer’s extra credit talent show assignment.  Any minute now, they’d start laughing at him.  

What was he thinking?  He’d just watched a few YouTube tutorials on breath control, and he thought he could come up here and sing in front of people?  He was a moron, and—

Sam and Tucker started cheering wildly, followed rapidly by everyone else in the gym.  

Okay.  What?

Sam and Tucker, following impulses known only to overexcited teenagers, swarmed up the stage and attacking Danny.  

“Why didn’t you tell us you could sing like that?” demanded Sam.  

“When did you learn?” asked Tucker, doing his level best to noogie Danny.  “Why did you learn?”

“I wanted to improve my, you know, wail,” muttered Danny, “and all the breath control YouTube videos either had to do with diving or singing, so…”  He did a little head wiggle to illustrate his point and also dislodge Tucker.  

“I just can’t believe you kept this a secret from us,” said Sam.  

Danny snorted and took a sort of half bow before attempting to leave the stage.  “My dudes, I am basically made of secrets.”

“Encore!” screamed someone who clearly hated him.  

“Oh, no,” said Danny, bracing himself against Sam and Tucker who were pushing him back into the middle of the stage.  “No encore.  I don’t do encores.”

But now people were chanting.  Chanting.  

“Come on, Danny,” said Tucker.  “Just once!”

“Yeah, these are your fifteen minutes of fame!”

“I had those already!  Multiple times!”

“That was Poindexter.”

“And now it can be you.”

Danny reluctantly took the microphone back off the stand.

.

.

 (Letterhead)

The ink was thick, almost creamy, and paint-like. It was the ectoplasm mix, which also gave it a rich, rosy glow.  

Danny was practicing ghost calligraphy.  Well, one particular subset of ghost calligraphy, one which put special emphasis on the color of the letters as well as how they fit together.  

It was a totally useless hobby.  But it was… not exactly calming.  No.  He’d gotten way too angry about poorly formed arcs and crooked lines a couple of times.  So. Yeah.  Not calming.  But… meditative.  Meditative. And there was something satisfying about seeing the finished product.  

Plus, if he framed his better finished work, they made for good presents for weirdo ghosts.

“You misspelled this,” drawled Ghost Writer.  

“No, I didn’t.”

“Keuwii only has one kei.”

“This is only one kei.”

“What’s this, then?”

“It’s a flourish.”

“A flourish.”

Danny rolled his eyes.  “Everyone’s a critic.  If you don’t want it—”

“I didn’t say that.”

Danny raised an eyebrow.  

Ghost Writer made a show of rolling his eyes. “Very well.  Do you have one for my half-brother Randy.  Perhaps one that says something along the lines of ‘idiot?’”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

.

.

 (Babies on Fire)

“Danny,” said Jazz.  “What are you doing up at three in the morning with a lighter? And… yarn?  Is that yarn?”

“Dad wanted me to learn how to sew,” said Danny, “but I don’t like needles, not the sharp ones, anyway.”

“You get stitches every other week,” pointed out Jazz.

“Exactly,” said Danny, gesturing with the lighter.  “So, I decided to look into, you know, knitting. And I was on knitting websites, and having, you know, a pretty good time with that, but then I found out about the babies.”

“The babies.”

“The babies,” said Danny, seriously.  “And the blankets that are on fire.  It depends on the yarn, you see.  If the yarn is the wrong kind of yarn, if it catches on fire, the blanket can melt onto the baby.  It’s terrible.  Just terrible.”

“I kind of think that if the blanket is on fire you have bigger problems,” said Jazz.  She took a step closer to her obviously insane younger brother.  “Are you… testing the yarn?”

“I have to, Jazz.  It’s for the babies.”

“Alright,” said Jazz.  “You are going to limit it to just the yarn in our house, right?”

“But we don’t have any babies.”

“Okay, that didn’t answer my question, but, like…” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Since we don’t have any babies here, why are you testing the yarn?”

“Because we might have babies here in the future,” said Danny.  “Or I might knit something and give it to someone as a gift and then they give it to their baby.  Oh my gosh, I’d feel so guilty.”

“I’d be more worried about the toxic waste in our basement,” said Jazz, which was exactly the wrong thing to say to a sleep-deprived half-ghost on the edge of an Obsession-fueled breakdown.  Danny vanished in a blur, trailing yarn behind him. Jazz, who had only gotten up for a glass of water, cursed under her breath.

.

.

 (Before the Ball)

“I’m so, so sorry, Dora,” said Danny, holding back something adjacent to laughter.  

Dora laughed, more openly.  “It is fine, Sir Phantom.  Even now, you are better than my brother.”

“Am I really?  Your brother?  Who was raised to do this?”

“Well,” said Dora, letting go and stepping back out of the range of Danny’s feet.  Which were, evidently, both left feet.  “No, I’m afraid, but it is amusing to say, isn’t it?”  She pressed her fingers to her lips, suppressing more laughter.  

“Yeah, it is,” admitted Danny.  

“In any case, you are far more graceful concerning your mistakes than he ever was.  More gallant. A better representative of chivalry altogether.”  She patted the shoulders of his shirt.  

“Thanks,” said Danny.  “Do you think that I’ll be, uh, ready in time for the party?”

“It’s more than a party,” said Dora.  “You’re being officially knighted.  You’ll be a peer of the realm.”

“Aha,” said Danny.  “Yeah.  I don’t… what?  Really? That’s a thing?”

“You thought I was joking?”

“No,” said Danny, drawing out the word.  He had, in fact, thought she was joking and only accepted her offer to teach him how to dance because he thought it sounded like fun and like it might take his mind off his problems.  “Of course not.  So. Dancing.  Important.  For first impressions?”

“Everyone already knows you, Phantom,” said the knight assigned as Dora’s bodyguard.  “But dancing is surprisingly useful for swordplay.  Which you need all the help you can get at.”

“You said I was getting better.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re good.”

“Ouch.”

.

.

 (Time)

“I don’t have time for a hobby,” complained Danny through the Fenton Phones.  “Maybe if the ghosts let up a bit—” He zapped one of said ghosts.  

“Danny, are you fighting ghosts right now?”

“Yeah.  That’s my point.”

“Oh my god, get off the phone.”

“No way!  This is the only time I can call you, what with all of your classes.”

“Danny…” said Jazz, clearly exasperated.  He took advantage of the lull in the conversation to blast a few more ghosts.  

“I’m fine Jazz.”

“You are not fine.  You are, like, ten thousand miles away from fine.  When was the last time you even slept through the night?”

“Eh,” said Danny.  “Recently?”

“You need to take more time for yourself.”

Danny sighed and captured the last ghost.  “Maybe catching ghosts is my hobby.”

“Catching ghosts is your self-imposed penance for doing something that isn’t even your fault.  Not a hobby.”

“Okay, okay.  I’ll talk to you on Wednesday, same time.”

“Danny, don’t—”

He hung up.  

“Ugh,” said Danny.  “I guess I need to find a hobby.  Have to find time to find a hobby.”

“Perhaps I could be of help.”

“Ah!”  Danny jolted forward, dropping his phone.  

Clockwork gestured with one hand, and the phone dropped back into Danny’s hands from above.  

“Ohhh my ghost, why are you here?”

“You were just talking about finding time.  And now I’m here.”

“Good timing, I guess?”

“Only the best,” said Clockwork, evenly.  “But we were speaking of hobbies.  Might I suggest ice sculpture?  Your friends in the Far Frozen would be more than happy to teach you...”

[potterbite]

With me, you are safe

Wow, so this got away from me. Here’s 2500 words of Buck falling in love in Montana, why he went to Peru and a disastrous date in present day. Eddie to the rescue!

On AO3. 

***

He first met Johnny when working at a ranch in Montana. 

He was searching the country for the parts of himself that were missing, hoping to find them if he just tried hard enough, ignoring the sadness pounding inside him at every heartbeat. 

Johnny was a few years older and had something rugged about him that appealed to Buck.  Maybe it was those eyes that seemed to gaze into your soul, or that blatant confidence in everything he did. Nevertheless, Buck quickly found himself navigating towards the other man, happy to have finally found a friendly face that saw him for who he was. With Johnny around, somehow, the emptiness did not feel as overwhelming. 

They’d gone out for a few beers one night when Johnny took his hand under the table, interlacing their fingers. Surprised, albeit pleasantly so, Buck had looked up at the older man to see that confident smile plastered on his face, and Johnny had surged forward for a kiss that Buck was not expecting but somehow did not rattle him even a little bit; it felt good. 

The following weeks were a jumble of stolen kisses during the day and sleepless nights under the stars. 

Johnny left a few weeks later, promising Buck they would meet again and that he’d get in touch as soon as he had found this new place he was searching for. Buck had realized that a lot of the guys at the ranch carried that same sadness he himself did and was not surprised that Johnny felt it too. The restlessness. 

So he let Johnny go, and Buck left the ranch some time after, continuing his journey in the jeep that had somehow become the one constant in his life. Maybe he felt a little less empty, some space inside of him filled with a new feeling; hope for the future. 

He didn’t tell Maddie about Johnny in his letters; he was worried that if he wrote it down it would become something tangible instead of those amazing, blurry weeks that felt plucked from a dream. Someone else’s dream. 

Ten months went by before he heard from Johnny again, and at that point Buck had even tried to forget his time at the ranch altogether by dating the girl who taught him to surf.

Neither of those things worked out, the girl less so than the surfing.  

Johnny’s text was short, but still had Buck’s heart beating a mile a minute. 

Meet me in Peru. I miss you.

Buck left the country three days later, no questions asked, and nothing with him except for a backpack and his swelling heart. 

Meeting Johnny again felt as if no time had gone by at all, and Buck was soon caught up in the whirlwind. When Johnny looked at him it made him feel as if he were the only thing in the world that mattered and Buck was addicted. Needed to be where Johnny was. So he took a job at the same bar Johnny worked in, figuring he should at least get some use out of that bartender knowledge.

When Johnny left again, it was just as abrupt as it had been back in Montana. This time though, it hurt much more. At the ranch, Buck hadn’t fully understood how swept up in Johnny he was. He still didn’t, but somehow his gut knew. 

And it hurt. The offhand way he told Buck he had fallen for this ‘awesome chick’ and that they would be going to Florida the very next day. While lying naked in bed with Buck. And the casual way he leaned in for another kiss after that statement, as if everything was just a laugh.

Buck would feel sick afterwards, for months trying to get that dirty feeling out of his body, but he gave his body up to Johnny that night in a way he had never done before. Perhaps he had hoped - no, prayed, that it would alter the other man’s plans. That it would make Johnny feel something real for Buck. 

Nothing changed of course, and he was given the same promise as last time and a tight embrace that made him feel disgusted by himself for enjoying. 

Buck stayed in Peru for a while, not wanting to face reality. Somehow, he could pretend none of it had happened if he kept inside his bubble. Same guests at the bar. Same weather. Same mood.

When he finally left to go back to America, he promised himself that he would never again let someone else make him feel this way; unworthy, belittled and clingy.

---

“Buck?” A hand is shaking his shoulder, fingers warm and tight. Buck blinks twice at Eddie, who’s clearly been trying to get his attention for a while. Everyone is looking at him.

It’s ringing inside his ears, and he tries his best to come back to reality. It’s hard though.

The team got a call for a rescue, an elevator that had gotten stuck somewhere between the twelfth and thirteenth floor and the three passengers inside needed to get out before anyone dared to try and fix it. Easy enough. 

Buck is on rope watch while Eddie goes into the elevator to pick all of them out one by one, but when he gets out through the ceiling with the last man, Buck thinks he’s about to have a stroke.

It’s Johnny.

Silence presses on for a few precious seconds, but then Johnny (inevitably so) meets Buck’s eyes and a brilliant smile forms.

“Evan!” Johnny exclaims loudly, and Buck is vaguely aware of everyone stopping with whatever they’re doing to watch this scene unfold. He desperately wants to leave. Buck was always Evan back then, and Johnny is no different. 

“Hey, Johnny,” he forces out. 

The other man opens his mouth to say something, but Eddie cuts him off. “You can catch up later, we need to get off of this elevator.” He doesn’t look at Buck when he speaks, but it does the trick and everyone gets moving again. 

Knowing he can’t avoid it, Buck joins Johnny on the edge of the open ambulance. The team is close by, but still far enough that he can pretend they aren’t listening. 

“Long time,” Johnny comments, smiling again. And Buck hates how his stomach flutters at that. Hates how he automatically smiles back, his body working on its own accord.

“Yeah. How’ve you been?”

“Good, good.” He looks around, and laughs a bit. “Well, maybe not this precise moment. First time in LA for me.”

Buck nods. Ignores Johnny’s hand that has now landed somewhere on his thigh. “You’ll love it. What brought you here?”

Suddenly Johnny is even closer than before, fingers bunching up the fabric of his pants, breath warm on Buck’s face. “You.”

Seemingly out of nowhere, Eddie appears in front of them before Buck has a chance to reply or do anything at all. He’s grateful. 

“Everything alright?” Eddie looks straight at Buck, gaze so intense Johnny might as well have evaporated into thin air. 

Buck nods, not sure he has any words in him right now. Feelings jumbled around like the headphone cord in your pocket, knot upon knot. Butterflies and nausea for Johnny. A warmness somewhere in his abdomen for Eddie. Adrenaline from them both. 

Eddie doesn’t move away and maybe Johnny realizes it’s not a good time to press on because he stays silent. (Or maybe he still doesn’t care.)

“Alright, let’s pack this up,” Hen’s voice says then, looking knowingly at Buck. He gets up, and shivers when he feels Johnny’s fingers brush against his own before dropping. 

Bobby’s eyes are fluttering from Buck, to Eddie, to Johnny and then back again. 

Nobody speaks on the way back to the station, but Buck feels all eyes on him.

---

At the end of that shift, Chimney is the one that brings it up when they are in the changing room.

“So, are we allowed to ask?”

Buck freezes with his eyes inside the locker, hands balling into fists. 

“I guess that’s a no,” Chim continues casually. 

Buck releases a big breath, not sure why he feels so secretive of this past. He turns and leans against the locker instead.

“Johnny and I met in Montana years ago, when I was working at a ranch.” He tries to smile, but isn’t sure it comes out as genuine. Chimney is getting dressed while listening, Bobby and Eddie standing still, observing. 

Buck closes his eyes, feeling the heaviness set in. “Johnny was my first and only boyfriend.” He laughs bitterly. “And he’s also the reason I don’t date men.”

A quiet whistle from Chimney. “That bad, huh?”

Buck doesn’t reply, but his eyes snap open when Eddie speaks. Sounding a bit like he’s… hurt?

“You’ve never told me about him.”

Buck shrugs with one shoulder. “I prefer not to remember it,” he says honestly. 

Bobby steps forward. “Blocking out past memories is not always the way to go. Sometimes we need to face it, learn and grow.”

At this Buck nods. He’s lost for words again. 

---

A text comes later that night from an unknown number, but even so he knows who it’s from without looking.

Grab a drink with me.

And there’s that familiar feeling of being swept away. It’s as if he doesn’t really have a choice, needing to meet up with Johnny as much as he needs to breathe. So he replies, feeling both excited and sickened with himself at the same time, and they decide on a bar. Or rather, Johnny does and Buck has to figure out how to get there without driving.  

Outside of the bar, Buck has to wait for twenty minutes before Johnny arrives. No apologies though, just that blissful tight embrace, hands in under Buck’s t-shirt.

Buck shivers, and he’s not altogether sure if that’s a good thing or not. 

(Not like the shiver he gets when Eddie gives him that soft look. A shiver that makes him want to feed off of that expression for the rest of his life.)

Once they get a table, Johnny orders for the both of them without asking what Buck would like. Johnny was always like that, and it used to make Buck feel important. Still does, but now there’s an added element of feeling uncomfortable. Remembering how small it used to make him feel as well, as if he were depended on this man to help him through life.

The drink is gross, but he downs it in two big gulps. Johnny keeps touching him, not even speaking, and Buck craves it at the same time as he wants to run away from there and never look back. 

(Want it to be someone else’s eyes so close to his, dimples and scruff.)

There’s hands on his thigh, in his hair, on his waist, fingers teasing the zipper, lips wet on his neck. Music pounding loudly. 

Then all at once, he’s so disgusted he stands up, shocking Johnny into a sitting position from where he’d been leaning all of his body into Buck’s.

“I gotta go,” is all he can manage before moving as fast as he can away from there. He’s not yet outside when he remembers he didn’t drive, and for the fraction of a second he feel as if he’s about to cry.

He promised himself he would never let this happen again, yet here he is, years later. 

Eyes a bit blurry, he unlocks his phone and calls the number at the top of his phone book.

“Hello?” Eddie’s whispering, and Buck curses himself for not checking the time. His voice is also kind of groggy, which makes it even worse.

“Shit, I didn’t realize how late it is,” he says in a way of greeting. 

“Buck?” Eddie sounds so confused it makes Buck smile. “It’s fine. I fell asleep reading to Chris.” He’s whispering, but then there’s the sound of a door closing and his voice is normal again. “Is everything alright?”

“I - uh. I kind of need a ride home.”

Silence. 

“Where are you?”

Buck tells him the address to the bar, very close to Eddie’s house, and the jingle of keys is audible before he’s even finished explaining. “Are you sure?” he asks quietly, scared that the answer is going to be no.

“I’ll be there in ten.”

---

Eight minutes later, Buck spots Eddie’s massive car coming down the street before stopping right in front of him. He gets in the passenger seat without a word, and they drive in silence for a few minutes.

Buck frowns when he understands where they are going.

“I can’t crash at your place, Eddie.”

Eddie glances over at him, eyebrows raised. “Sure you can.” He breaks at the red light and turns his head to fully look at Buck. “Carla is watching Chris through video feed for a little while. I need to get home and turn it off before it becomes creepy.”

One corner of Buck’s mouth goes up. “It already sounds a bit creepy.”

The light switches back to green and Eddie drives on. “Hey, it was this or wake him up and you know how grumpy he gets.”

It remains unspoken that the third option of not coming for Buck at all was not really an option. They sit in peaceful silence the rest of the drive. 

---

After telling Carla goodnight, they end up on the couch together, maybe a bit closer than normal, but Buck enjoys the warmth of another body close to his. Of Eddie’s body close to his, he realizes. 

Eddie hands over the bottle of water he grabbed from the fridge before and Buck takes it, just to keep his hands occupied. 

“What happened?” Eddie’s voice is slow and quiet, still forceful. 

Buck fiddles with the label on the bottle. “Johnny wanted to meet up. It was not a good idea.”

He sees Eddie watching him in his peripheral sight. Maybe he tilts the tiniest bit toward him, just ‘cause it feels nice. 

After a few moments, Eddie sighs. “Is it true what you said? About not dating guys because of what happened between you and Johnny?”

Buck shrugs. “I guess. The pros didn’t outweigh the cons.”

He can’t tell if it’s him or Eddie that moves, but somehow they are even closer together on the sofa now, shoulders touching. 

“You really should try it one more time.” He locks eyes with Buck. “It might be worth it.”

For a long while, they sit there watching each other, neither daring to move closer or away, both hoping the other is brave enough to make the call. 

Slowly, Buck lifts his hand and curls it around Eddie’s neck. Eddie sighs and closes his eyes with a smile.

[realisaonum]

book meme

thank you, jen @det395​ !! i feel like this meme got away from me a bit, but no shame! i love talking about books and writing so onward ~under the cut~

1- how many books are too many books in a series? 

mhmmmmm i guess it depends on the objective of the series, right? is the plan to have x number of books in the series and if so, when we finally get to the end will it be satisfying considering all the books we’ve read leading up to it? OR is the objective of the premise / characters just to exist doing whatever? both can be done well. i would say a lot rides on how much i trust the author.

2- what do you think about cliffhangers?

so this is meant for cliffhangers in a series like between books? i don’t really care if there’s a cliffhanger as long as i have the next book sitting right next to me. otherwise uh, only if the wait between books is tolerable, because at that point you need to know that the author can clear this mess up, right? there’s this other thing, like you know how if the entire series was already written, then they might release the books a month apart or a quarter apart - that could be alright too. but years in between? not especially a fan. is anyone a fan?

3- hardback or paperback?

jen, you and me are complete opposites here. paperbacks stress me out. i will go out of my way to buy a used hardcover if given the choice. of course, there are some publications i don’t mind in paperback —thinking poetry and super indie books that don’t have a hardcover release OR books where the spines are thin enough they won’t break and i won’t be holding them long enough for them to wear. hardcovers are sturdy and i don’t have to worry i’ll accidentally bend the cover in some damaging way. I am invested in keeping my books nice to the point that i create covers for my books out of kraft paper or brown grocery bags while i am reading them. this is something i started when i was in college and didn’t want these books i was hoping to probably resell get thrashed coming in and out of my bag for all these classes. My home library is probs more half and half paperback/hardcover but if given a choice usually it’s hardcover.

4- least favourite book?

i think it’s good to at least attempt to meet a book on its level. there are lots of books i didn’t like, but i wasn’t meeting them on their level and i know that so we’re ignoring those. i do however have a shelf on my goodreads dedicated to books that i have beef with so i’ll just go off on two of them.....

tana french’s the likeness for being plagiaristic shit. it is essentially poorly concealed alternate universe OC insert fic of the secret history. you’ve got french’s dublin murder squad folks and then this group they are investigating who bear a STRIKING resemblance to the greek students in tsh 🤔. this would be one thing. it is pretty well acknowledged that nothing is original and there are enough changes to The Likeness that MAYBE i could let it slide if not for this other thing: french’s book, the likeness, has lines that are just basically reworded quotes from the secret history and french positions these lines so they are said by the counterpart (essentially same!) character that gave them original life in tsh. i cannot stress this enough: you can HEAR how similar the sentences are and their core intent is always the same. it’s thinly veiled theft! it astounds me that French hasn’t been sued frankly. it is one thing to want to capture some of the genius that tartt’s debut novel holds, but it is completely lazy and disgusting theft to go about it in the way French did with this book. and YES the secret history was published before french’s book. if i could stomach how fucking goddamn boring the likeness was to read it a second time and cite every one of these offenses i would, but that’s yet a third strike against it—it’s too boring to be worth it. 

T. Kingfisher’s second book of the Clocktuar War duology : The Wonder Engine. this is a book that i feel violated the contract between writer and reader. the first book feels almost like a YA book. the stakes while described as very high are treated, as actions unfold, as very low. nothing truly irreparable happens until the climax of the second book and the fallout of that action is so off-tone of everything that came before i felt deeply betrayed. no, like, completely betrayed as in it ruined the rest of my afternoon, i am still viscerally angry eight months later, and i will never trust this author again. sure, maybe none of those actions that led to the climax were out-of-character, but there was nothing NOTHING in the proceeding action that even came close to that level of consequence. it’s a pity because right up till that point i was having a really good time. the entire vibe of the rising action to the climax of book one all the way through the rising action of book two was just a quippy fun version of roadtrip/quest - it felt like a comfort read. the abrupt tone shift had all the subtlety of dropping a graphically, brutal murder into Blue’s Clues. you don’t do that - this is a basic tenet of a writer / reader relationship. i’m not touching this bitch’s shit again.

5- Love Triangle, yes or no?

not so much. i like jen before me will scream ‘just be poly.’ love triangles that lead into poly relationships? yes, awesome will be glad i read. but i am at a stage in my life where your standard will-they-won’t-they-love-triangle is just fucking pointlessly frustrating to me. an example: i read a Nic Stone’s book Odd One Out a couple years ago and something about the synopsis or the hype made me think that it would resolve the love triangle that way, so when that did not happen i was incredibly frustrated and immediately wanted to resell the book. it’s the potential of the thing. stone’s book could have been the perfect vehicle for opening up the concept of polyamory to a ya audience but instead just really squandered that potential with weak floundering — in my opinion!

6- the most recent book you just couldn’t finish

uhhhhh i’ve got two and i’m not sure i’ve entirely given up quite yet buuuuuuuut 

fucking dune. i got really pissed off with this book. So just…setting aside the whole vaguing at a pedophilically inclined queer coded villain - it’s done so poorly, that it's almost funny? like it doesn’t (as of half way through) actually have any consequence on…anything at all and is tacked on like an afterthought to the end of his scenes. honestly it all could just be cut out entirely with no recourse to the larger story. So my actual beef with this book is the pacing is ATROCIOUS. like yo, not only do you expect me to give a shit about these Atreides cunts, when we just met them and we spend the same amount of time with them IF NOT MORE with the antagonist? but you also expect me to believe Paul was able to just convince the leader of the Arrakis people —the leader of an entire planet!!— with a single fucking sentence??? yeah, not so much. it was not set up for me to believe that Paul could do that! maybe if Kynes hadn’t died immediately after—or at least not died at that moment? baring the fact I thought he was by far the most interesting character, IF he had been convinced by Paul in that scene, it would have been great to see some actual work done around that - with a transfer or a liaise of power between Kynes and Paul and the Fremen. By not having any substantive scene that does it - it begs the question of what the fuck was the point of the character in the first place? unplumbed potential!!! over all there seem to be some key scenes missing to get the reader to where the narrative expects us to be? but the choices made of the characters we spend time with and the moments we see with them, the benefit to the larger story…is not always there. hey herbert, these words you have written aren’t doing what you want them to?? i feel like i should finish it but i reaaaaallly don’t want to :) the only thing i can say is it looks like from the trailer, villeneueve is giving space to these moments so that the viewer can foster a genuine connection with the characters? radical concept.

our lady of perpetual hunger - i started this one optimistically bc i like chef memoirs, but i am at the point where she has just given birth to her son and honestly DON’T CARE. i still haven’t officially given up on it yet since i actually fucking bought it like a dope. i certainly would not have if i knew how much NOT about working the line this was gonna be

7- book you are currently reading

Aside from the failures mentioned above, I am working on the second book in B. Catling’s Vorrh trilogy, The Erstwhile. Also very close to finally finishing Iain Sinclair’s The Last London - there’s a review of his work from the LA Times that goes “One of Sinclair’s greatest skills has always been his ability to take diverse if not chaotic source material and refashion it in a way that sometimes seems downright alchemical” which captures some of the wonder I experience when reading his work. His style and how he creates atmosphere and setting is just unique and astounding.

8- last book you recommended to someone

The Secret History by Donna Tartt. Before that I told my brother to read Eat a Peach, as we both love Anthony Bourdain and David Chang talks about him a bit here, plus it’s just a fucking great book. any book that gives insight into Chang’s methodology and paradigm is worth a shot.

9- oldest book you read

I think it might have to be Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night (which apparently according to wiki premiered on the stage a whole four months before Hamlet so that’s what we’re going with) and if plays don’t count, I don’t care. I think they count and that’s what we’re going with.

10- the most recent book you read ?

Given the previous question, the most recently published book, right? It’s gotta be the one I just finished: The First Collection of Criticism by a Living Female Rock Critic - Revised and Expanded edt., which like just came out this summer. I watched Jessica Hopper’s promo zoom, curtesy of my local indie bookstore, and went ahead and bought it. This was a great decision! It was just what I needed to read these last couple of weeks. i love there’s lots of short pieces that made the read quick and the fact that it’s non-fiction so there was no pressure of a plot or the emotional weight of character investment when I had a lot of big stressors dragging me down irl -it was such a relief. Hopper’s criticism is fun to read and there’s some real art in her appreciation of music here.

11- favourite author?

These are the top in a kind of order but not really: Donna Tartt, Jeff VanderMeer, Megan Whalen Turner, Flannery O’Conner, Chuck Palahniuk, Anthony Bourdain

Other faves very much worth mentioning: Emily O’Neill, Richard Siken, Brandon Sanderson, Warren Ellis, Nathan Englander, Stephen King, Eddie Huang, Carl Hiaassen, Anne Carson, and Iain Sinclair.

12- buying books or borrowing books?

Depends on if my library has it, of course! I nearly always see if my library has a copy first if i have never read it or the author before. If i’ve read the book before or trust the author, I’ll buy it. Like I’ll straight out buy new stuff from Jeff VanderMeer even though with him it’s either this-hits-exactly-and-is-my-new-fave or i-really-disliked-this-but-admire-the-boundaries-you’re-pushing-my-dude - so it’s always a gamble but a worthy one.

12- a book you dislike that everyone else seems to love

a little life (just bc it's torture porn elevated to art doesn’t negate the fact that it’s torture porn. Yanagihara’s project here is repugnant and the fact that this book is lauded as moving lgbt fiction makes my skin crawl)

sharp objects (good writing, compelling story, BUT typographical scarification doesn't work like that - i am not going to get into it but i know from first hand experience how Flynn described it is not accurate)

nesbø’s the snowman (what kinda dumbass detective would think THAT when a woman finds her missing father’s corpse? absolute idiocy - so obviously reverse engineered with that end in mind)

the raven cycle (fuck ronan lynch to start and then fuck him to end as well - there’s some other stuff but mostly he’s a total CUNT and if i don’t say that once a day i have probably died)

14 - bookmarks or dogears?

Bookmarks and sticky notes. Then I can place it pointing directly to the paragraph I last stopped on.

15- The book you can always reread?

This is my question because I reread all the time. ALL THE TIME. Books I reread often: The Secret History, Medium Raw (especially chapter 17 The Fury), Crooked Kingdom, The Violent Bear It Away, and The Goldfinch. Every year like clockwork (since it came out apparently) I will reread Stephen King’s The Outsider.

Other books I feel the urge to reread: VanderMeer’s Acceptance, Englander’s Dinner at the Center of the Earth, Frazier’s Nightwoods, Fresh Off the Boat, the Mr. Mercedes trilogy, the Peter Grant Series (which is queued up for another go here soon I think), any of the stories from A Good Man is Hard to Find, Sanderson’s Wax and Wayne Mistborn books, simon vs the homosapiens’ agenda, and there are two of Alan Morinis’ books on Mussar that I am technically always revisiting—when i need a reminder, i’ll jump around and read specific sections to get centered again.

16- can you read while listening to music?

Yes, but only ambient or near ambient (only usually one track on repeat) or a soundtrack I am extremely familiar with. No new music. I do usually need some audio stimulation or my mind will wander terribly.

17- one POV or multi POV?

Multi pov can certainly be done well (looking at the soc duaology and VanderMeer’s Acceptance) but working a multi-pov means there are more plates spinning, it’s more of a challenge, and some authors pull it off better than others.

18- do you read book in one sitting or in multiple days?

I don’t really do this anymore. that might have something to do with me picking up thicker books? but also i have a full time job now and let’s be real the book has to be hella good if i don’t want to put it down. the last book i attempted to shotgun was the final installment of my favorite series and it still took me two days so....i can get through a lot of books but none of them are ever in one sitting anymore.

19- who to tag:

@sybilius​ @mouth-rainboy​ @iwonderifthatisart​ @phereinnike​ @magnificentmoose​ @wambsgangs​ @moriarteaparty​ and anyone else if you feel so inclined!

Bonus Question: What’s on your to-read shelf? 

As for me, I am excited about one i just picked up, Danforth’s Plain Bad Heroines, which i might start tomorrow and I will be taking Paul Madonna’s Come to Light on my trip to see my brother this coming weekend. 

[ncisladaily]

NCIS: LA is back with a brand new episode this Sunday night at 9:00PM ET/PT on CBS and streaming on Paramount+. In this week’s episode viewers will see Callen (Chris O’Donnell) dealing with the fall out of his relationship with Anna as well as the discovery that Hetty has been grooming him for this life since he was a child.

CBS’ Matt Weiss spoke to O’Donnell about working during a pandemic and what the future holds for Agent Callen.

MW: Chris, excited to talk to you today. NCIS: LA has been such a huge success for a number of years now, but this season was shot a very different way than it ever has been before. What was that experience like putting this season together?

COD: I think first of all, we were all just grateful to be back working. The pressures that the pandemic has put on everyone has been really tough. I think everyone was grateful to be on the set and working and seeing familiar faces. We had to take a lot of precautions. We were tested five days a week. They really split up the crew and the cast. There are certain crew members I haven’t even run into this year.

They also eliminated scenes with all eight actors together. It was really kind of 1-on-1 and that sort of thing. They limited the amount of hours that we were able to shoot per day. It’s interesting, usually at the end of the season, I’m absolutely physically and mentally exhausted. Tomorrow is my last day of work for the season. I feel pretty good. We made it through so far and I’m grateful for that.

MW: Not that we want another year like this one, but maybe there’s some stuff you can take moving forward then, if you feel better than ever?

COD: Yeah. There were some things that you learn along the way. I think that there are efficiencies that are developed out of necessity that will probably be put to use going forward. There will definitely be things that will come back because you miss them, they add to the richness of the show.

But like everyone out there we’re all doing our best to put product out there. I think everyone realizes it’s kind of a different world. Just the fact that I’m sitting in my office right now and you’re there talking, this was never done like this before.

MW: Right. Before this year, I’d never interviewed someone from my living room yet here we are -laughs]. Lots of relationship drama going on, talking about the actual show now, between Callen and Anna, things seem to be a bit on the rocks. What’s in store for those two?

COD: Callen got to the point in the relationship where he felt she was the one. He was ready to take the next step and he went up to propose to her. It turned out she wasn’t where she said she was, she’s never been there. There’s things that she’s hiding from him. He’s had to deal with that. A former love of his has come into the picture.

In this next episode coming up, he’s got to use who we thought was going to be a future wife as bait to help rescue somebody else. There’s a lot going on, there’s this whole Russian storyline that’s been developed over the years. Suddenly Callen has been accused of being a Russian spy. The actions he’s taking once he’s accused are tough to defend. He’s kind of got himself into a bit of a mess here.

MW: You mentioned that Russian storyline, years in the making and now we find out Callens entire life has been years in the making with Hetty grooming him for this role. Now having that information, what has that done to his psyche and how he’s making decisions now?

COD: Well, it’s questioning his history. He spent so many years trying to figure out who his parents were and why he was put up for adoption. He found his father and he answered a lot of questions and it’s been moving on. Suddenly he’s been asked more than once. Comments have been made about the fact that Hetty has been grooming him for what he’s doing now his whole life, and he’s thinking, she helped me, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Some of the stuff is making more sense than it should, which is really raising more and more questions for Calen. He’s starting to realize that there’s something bigger in play here that he wasn’t aware of.

MW: It feels a little like The Truman Show…

COD: [laughs] Yeah, Hetty is the puppet master, clearly.

MW: You mentioned you’re about to wrap season 12 with the finale coming up in May. What do fans have to expect as we ride out the rest of the season here?

COD: I think it’s leaving the fans with some good feelings. Every year is a little different. Sometimes we have the gnarly cliff hangers. Sometimes we have more the feel-good episodes. I think the fans will be pleased. We’re just finishing up the season finale right now, but it’s been an unusual season and the fans have been through a lot. I think that they’ll be pleased with the way we wrap it up.

MW: Last question before I let you go here, you mentioned the fans been through a lot. You’ve been through a lot. We’ve all been through a lot this year. What has it meant to you this year to give people that escape from reality when they sit down to watch NCIS: LA?

COD: I feel like we’re doing our part. It is escapism for people, and we all have certain things in life that is comfort food or it’s a security blanket or it’s something that just gives us a sense of normal life. Having fresh episodes for the audience, even with the extra lengths we had to go to produce is a great feeling.

It’s our job. It’s what we do. Everyone has been playing such incredible roles and trying to help people survive. If this is the way we can help people get through the day, then we’re happy we can chip in in some way.

MW: Awesome. Well, thank you so much, Chris. All the best to you moving forward.

COD: You too!

[coreastories]

Seo-ryeong vs Lady Noh

Seo-ryeong had never been patient. She was nearly forty and she thought she was set for life, but she hadn’t reckoned on the arrival of the queen. 

Eight years her junior and the queen was teaching her patience. Seo-gyeong hadn’t even done it, but maybe that was because she’d avoided Seo-gyeong for most of her life, hadn’t she? 

She couldn’t exactly avoid the queen. 

“Can you come here on Thursday?” the queen was saying. “You can stay the night and go back to Seoul on Friday after your report. Or even on Saturday, really. We can have breakfast and lunch then.” 

“Your Majesty-- why?” You should have led with the reason, you silly bint. 

“Oh, sorry. I need your thoughts on an exclusive women’s science and technology university. It will be for women, run by women, giving scholarships to women. You know, because the king agrees the field and the other universities are dominated by men. In this one, we’ll also only hire women as professors. We can get them from abroad if needed. It’s a university where women aspire to go. To study or teach. Isn’t that awesome? We could get it off the ground and break ground by 2021, although I think we should just find an existing building. There’s plenty.” 

Seo-ryeong didn’t hate the idea. While Corea wasn’t stingy with scholarships, she had still struggled all those years in the world of men. And it hadn’t changed much either.  

She also didn’t hate the idea of picking an existing building and turning it into women’s turf. Oh how some of the men in parliament would froth at the mouth. 

She looked at the phone suspiciously. Sometimes she wondered if the queen knew exactly what would pique Seo-ryeong’s interest. 

“All right, ma’am, I’ll come.” 

“Thank you. So how are you?”

Seo-ryeong leaned back in her chair. “I’m fine. What is that ridiculous thing you wore when you were photographed with Gong Shin?”

The queen laughed. “I knew it might go wrong. It looked better in low light. That was Valentino. It’s worth seven million won. I’m going to auction it for charity.” 

It was Seo-ryeong’s turn to laugh. “Why did you even wear it? What made you choose it?” 

“I don’t know. It was a dress. It was brown. It was lovely. The stage lights ruined it.” 

“Ugh, you make me want to shake you.” 

“As long as you don’t follow through. Because I can hit you where it hurts and won’t show.” 

Seo-ryeong ignored that. “And what are all these hints in the papers? Are you pregnant?” 

To Seo-ryeong’s surprise, Tae-eul was silent and didn’t immediately deny that. Seo-ryeong sat up in her chair. “You are?” 

She counted back. The wedding was in July. It was September. The queen certainly could be. But damn. They didn’t waste any time at all. What was the hurry? 

“I can’t-- I don’t want to talk about it.” 

Seo-ryeong marveled at the change in Tae-eul’s voice. This queen, this brat, never once backed down even at Seo-ryeong’s snappiest, and now her voice shook a little just to say she didn’t want to talk about the precious subject that was making her voice shake in the first place. 

“Why? Are you all right?” Seo-ryeong heard the genuine concern in her voice and didn’t wonder where it came from. She had long ago been resigned to the fact that Tae-eul and Seo-gyeong brought this out in her. 

“I’m fine. It’s just-- it’s not safe to talk about it.” 

That voice was still wobbly. Seo-ryeong stood up and put a hand on her waist. It was a power pose that calmed her. It was better than pounding the table. “Steady on. Are you saying you’re not safe? Is something wrong?” 

“No, no. I just-- It’s-- They say it’s bad luck to talk about it until it’s past the twelfth week mark.” 

Seo-ryeong scoffed. “Who says? Lady Noh?”

“Lady Noh.” 

“And you believe her?” 

“It doesn’t hurt to.” 

Seo-ryeong sat back down. Her knees sort of folded under her. The steel was back in Tae-eul’s voice when she said that. 

“Ahhh. I understand. You really want it.” 

“O--of course I do. What a question.” The voice was shaky again.  

Seo-ryeong laughed. She grabbed a pen from her table and thought it over. This would be amusing. Apparently, the unflappable queen now had something that sent her lips trembling. This was going to be fun. 

“Did you plan it? Or was it an accident? It hasn’t even been six months--”

“Oh my god, yes, we p-planned it.”

Seo-ryeong bit her lips so she wouldn’t laugh into the phone. This time, Tae-eul’s voice had been a funny mix of steel and stuttering. 

“Really?” 

“Why am I even telling you this?”

“Because you decided to make me a friend and you’re like a dog with a bone and wouldn’t give up? Go on. You planned it. Since when?”

“I don’t have to tell you that!” 

Seo-ryeong laughed. “Right. Because otherwise how would I be able to look at you and the king when I come at the end of the week? Knowing you’ve been on a project of baby-mak--”

“Bye.” 

Seo-ryeong threw her head back and laughed. When her fit of giggles was over, she wiped her eyes. 

“Really nice.” 

“Oh are you still there?” 

“I heard the entire witch laugh.” 

Seo-ryeong chuckled again. But now, to fix what needed fixing. “Tae-eul. Listen. You’ve gone to the doctor?”

“Yes.” 

“Don’t sound so hesitant. I’m not going to ask for details. I don’t care. But the doctor said you’re safe?”

“There are risks.”

“Don’t give me that. Are you safe or not?”

“Yes. I’m healthy.”

“There you are. Now don’t listen to Lady Noh and her superstitions. You have nothing to worry about.” 

She heard Tae-eul expel breath. “I-- I needed that.” 

In her office, Seo-ryeong looked her most smug yet. To think that she’d bested Lady Noh. “I’ll see you Thursday, Mama. Bye then.” 

She pressed the end button on the phone and didn’t realize she was smiling at the loudspeaker until she saw her reflection in the mirror. 

She rearranged her face, laid her fingertips on her laptop, and Googled “outrageous expectant mom and dad gifts.”

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

This call happened on the afternoon before the night shenanigans of Three Hours for Chicken

That’s why Tae-eul was bouncy and unafraid to go after her chicken. 

Also, pregnancy brain can bounce from 200% efficiency and creativity to calling the knees “leg elbows” and back. Lololol

Home-stretch to my head canon. I’m working with non-linear points. Whichever I feel like sharing for our shared squee deliciousness.