#this is probably preaching to the choir for most of my followers but I think like

[melrosing]

JAIME IN THE RIVERLANDS I: Exploring the 'Limits of Redemption'

Or: I HATE YOUR JAIME META AND HERE'S WHY

[Note: So this long fucking post is actually only the intro to what is (I think) a three/four part essay; the other parts are in editing stages at the moment but I figured if I don't post the first part now it'll be a WIP forever. Hopefully the rest will follow relatively soon as I'm literally sitting around with covid rn doing approx. nothing else but whatever watch this space I guess. anyway]

“I want there to be a possibility of redemption for us, because we all do terrible things. We should be able to be forgiven. Because if there is no possibility of redemption, what’s the answer then?” George R. R. Martin (!!!)

‘Redemption’ is broadly considered to be the most significant theme in Jaime Lannister’s narrative, with most arguing that the conclusion of his story must reach one verdict or another in terms of whether he has achieved it. For those that believe he won’t, Jaime’s chapters in AFFC and ADWD are most commonly used as evidence. 

However, Jaime’s Riverlands arc (which I will here distinguish as beginning in Jaime III AFFC, and ending in Jaime I ADWD) is one I think is too often broken down and compartmentalised, with few takes managing to consider it holistically. Scenes are often isolated from their context and from the preceding and succeeding chapters, with fans nonetheless reaching their verdict on Jaime’s broader story based on this limited analysis. So the arguments go, here’s Jaime doing bad things and fighting for the wrong side after all he went through in ASOS: after choosing to change, and then failing to do so. If Jaime truly wanted redemption, why is he still fighting for the Lannister regime? Why are all his efforts for good so pitifully small-scale? 

Here I want to consider this arc not just through isolated scenes, but within the broader narrative of Jaime’s story. For, as with everything else, GRRM is rarely interested in presenting a straightforward story of its type: Jaime’s struggle for redemption in the Riverlands is treated with as much complexity as other arcs in the story, such as Dany’s governance in Meereen, or Jon’s on the Wall. Characters are often trapped by circumstance, forced to compromise or made to contradict their own ideals in an effort to achieve their goals. The result can be ugliness and strife where a reader expects catharsis. In a series with two volumes to go, this is not to say that catharsis won’t come for Jaime’s story, but its delayed arrival has seen fans frequently contrast it with another POV: Theon’s.

Theon is another character for whom redemption is a guiding theme, though his is often favoured above Jaime’s owing to the more straightforward catharsis it affords. When we last see Theon in ADWD, he has fought sizable demons (both internal and otherwise) to escape Winterfell and save Jeyne Poole in the process. From here, a reader anticipates Theon will continue to fight for the right causes, and carve out a new identity separate from that as Balon’s heir, or Ned Stark’s hostage. No reader expects that Theon will turn around in TWOW to return to his old ways, because he has no cause to look back: the work is done, his old trappings gone, and the only direction left to him is forwards into something new.

Theon’s arc begins slightly ahead of Jaime’s, kicking off in the second volume where Jaime’s gathers pace in the third, but even accounting for this variance in pacing, the differences between their two redemption stories are notable. Theon begins the series as a relatively isolated character, estranged from his family and superimposed into one where the patriarch might take his head at any moment. For the most part, it doesn’t seem as though anyone even likes Theon all that much, apart from the mother he has largely forgotten about. It’s unsurprising, then, that over the course of several conflicts in ACOK we see Theon’s ties and allies diminished to practically nothing: he’s abandoned by his own house, becomes an enemy of the Starks, and is kept hostage by the Boltons who view him as a useful piece of dirt. 

Theon is ultimately removed from grander disputes besides as a pawn, too afraid to claim his autonomy for fears of painful consequences from Ramsay. He remembers his wrongs, but feels helpless to atone for them, left instead to ruminate in Winterfell. Theon’s redemption is then pursued through courage and reclamation of identity: a growing irrelevance to the new powers of the plot, his story is to reclaim his name and autonomy in the background, acting not for any house or name, but on his own renewed instincts for right and wrong. No family or political cause is left to rely on him, and so Theon ironically has the freedom to act on a purely individual basis, fighting instead for the single person who does need him now: Jeyne Poole. His act of heroism at the end of ADWD carves a checkpoint viewed by most readers as a decisive move towards redemption.

Jaime’s arc and Theon’s have more in common whilst Jaime is imprisoned by the Bloody Mummers in ASOS, where he too relies largely on instincts and courage, and develops the desire to change through tormented self-reflection. But the crucial difference is the scope each are afforded from here on. As discussed, Theon, on point of reflection, is essentially alone. The only choices he can make are those he makes for himself, and indeed he has nothing to lose but his life, for even his name has been stripped from him. 

This is not so in Jaime’s case. Far from Theon’s reduced existence, halfway through ASOS Jaime has returned to all his old trappings, as well as new positions of power he never asked for. He’s now in a position to make choices that were never his before, whether they concern the makeup of the Kingsguard or the safety of his house, and each choice has a domino effect that can ripple throughout the realm. Indeed, rather than estranged from his family, Jaime is inserted directly into the midst of their affairs - at precisely the time when the threat to their house proves existential. This is not a character who can look only to his own personal hopes, ambitions and wellbeing for guidance - rather, this is someone in a prime seat of governance. Ironically, this sees Jaime’s  personal autonomy greatly diminished as a result.

Not all of this is new, of course. Jaime has been born with stakes in these institutions - or acquired them at 15, in the case of the Kingsguard. The fate of House Lannister has always mattered to Jaime because the Lannisters are his own family, and owing to the precarious position Tywin has left them in, that same family are now in mortal danger. Plenty of words are shed amongst the Lannisters on the importance of maintaining Tywin’s legacy in keeping the security of their House, and unfortunately, Jaime has inherited this legacy at precisely the time he has hoped to escape it. Though he emerges from ASOS with personal ambitions to rescue Sansa, become a knight like Brienne, reclaim his fatherhood to his children and restore peace in the realm, what he wants has to be balanced alongside the security of the Lannisters collectively, and the delicate regency that sustains them.

As Ned tells Cersei as early as AGOT, there is no safe escape for House Lannister now: Robert would’ve hounded them to the ends of the world if he knew the truth, and certainly by AFFC both highborn and smallfolk alike long for their downfall. It is here that Jaime finds himself upon his return to King’s Landing. So from ASOS onwards, we see Jaime attempting to continue the arc he began with Brienne, and struggling to do so within the confines of his new elevated roles, risking undermining his family even as they undermine him at every turn. What deeds he does manage, such as instigating rescues for both Tyrion and Sansa, need to be done covertly, whilst everything he does in the public sphere is subject to Cersei’s whims. 

By Jaime III AFFC, Cersei declares that Jaime’s role now is to restore peace in the Riverlands (that is, to quash the Tullys), and Jaime, reluctantly, gathers his men and goes. So begins a balancing act between his private ambition and public persona, where he knows the slightest misstep might be the downfall of his family. 

(Of course, the grim truth is that the fate of House Lannister was sealed by Tywin long ago.)

JAIME AND THE LANNISTER LEGACY

As mentioned, readers often simplify all this to argue that Jaime is simply fighting for ‘the Lannister regime’ in AFFC; that he is flying the colours for his family because that’s the easier thing to do than pursue redemption and the greater good. I’d disagree. 

Firstly, we should note that Jaime has always had a healthy disregard for Lannister rhetoric and his father’s view of the world. This is not to say Jaime is not aware of the power his name holds, and that like his brother Tyrion, he won’t use it occasionally as a crutch, performance or excuse:

"White is for Starks. I'll drink red like a good Lannister." [JAIME V, ASOS]

"If you know me, Urswyck, you know you'll have your reward. A Lannister always pays his debts.” [JAIME III, ASOS]

He was a Lannister of Casterly Rock, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard; no sellsword would make him scream. [JAIME III, ASOS]

That would show the realm that the Lannisters are above their laws, like gods and Targaryens. [JAIME III, ASOS]

“The Father Above has more time than I do. Do you know who I am?" [JAIME IV, AFFC]

And to say the least, Jaime is no stranger to a gold plate armour. Simply put, this is a character quite capable of talking the talk and walking the walk when it suits him, but his broader POV shows one far more sceptical than Tywin or Cersei. 

To start with, Jaime actually shirked his lead role in House Lannister at fifteen, giving up Casterly Rock and the propagation of his house for the promise of his sister’s love. He declines Tywin’s offer to restore him to this position in ASOS (even despite his disillusionment with Cersei) and immediately sets about undermining both his father and sister by rescuing Tyrion and Sansa. Jaime has also from a young age rejected Tywin’s diatribes on his brother, spending his life regretting the one instance he aligned himself to them (see: Tysha). As a young Kingsguard he does not advocate allowing Tywin into the city, even knowing his father would win decisively, does not join his father at the last minute either - and in fact did not even raise Tywin as King given ample opportunity:

"Shall I proclaim a new king as well?" Crakehall asked, and Jaime read the question plain: Shall it be your father [...]?”

[...]"Proclaim who you bloody well like," he told Crakehall. Then he climbed the Iron Throne and seated himself with his sword across his knees, to see who would come to claim the kingdom. [JAIME II, ASOS]

At this crucial moment, Jaime adopts a neutral stance, leaving the politicking to other men - and this is a stance that comes to define him up to AGOT: given all he has seen, Jaime no longer has faith in the rights of Kings nor the honour of good men, and so retreats inward where the only rules are his own. Ultimately Jaime’s natural inclination is to stand as an individual: for his own values, rather than as a representative for his house or any institution. 

And his general disdain for his father’s doings and teachings is seen everywhere in his POV - or occasionally, by omission. Whilst Cersei and even Tyrion frequently reflect on Tywin’s methodry and lessons, Jaime, the key subject of those lessons, seldom considers them - except with resentment or reluctance:

"Father," he told the corpse, "it was you who told me that tears were a mark of weakness in a man, so you cannot expect that I should cry for you." [JAIME I, AFFC]

Indeed, in much of AFFC we see Jaime wandering the Riverlands, disturbed by the ruins his father’s campaigns have left behind. This is a character reiterated throughout his POV as one who runs on passion: he entered the war for Cersei and Tyrion, albeit recklessly and in the midst of a conflict of his own making. Meanwhile, Tywin’s work is cold-blooded, calculated and brutal, and reminds Jaime of his enemies rather than his allies. 

In fact, the only aspect of House Lannister that Jaime seems especially concerned with seem to be his loved ones within it. In the beginning this appears largely limited to Cersei and Tyrion, the two he asks after when seeking news from Catelyn. News of a distant uncle and his losses at war are dismissed out of hand, and Tywin himself is asked after as essentially an afterthought:

"It's Cersei and Tyrion who concern me. As well as my lord father." [CATELYN VII, ACOK]

Later, of course, we encounter family like Genna and Daven representing Jaime's broader emotional stakes within his house, and his growing cares for his children make him more intent on its survival. But his remote affection (or entire lack of it) for his own father never seems to waver.

When Tywin does die, we see Jaime holding vigil beside his corpse out of a sense of obligation as Tywin’s son, but after spending much of it scowling at Tywin’s corpse and thinking ill of him, he abandons the vigil early to chase after a distraught Tommen. In the same scene, we even see Jaime attempting to counsel his son differently to how his father did him: where Tywin taught Jaime a man does not cry and should never show weakness, Jaime does not ridicule his son’s distress (as Cersei notably does), but tries to offer him support (albeit with only a sad coping mechanism of his own):

"A man can bear most anything, if he must," Jaime told his son. I have smelled a man roasting, as King Aerys cooked him in his own armour. "The world is full of horrors, Tommen. You can fight them, or laugh at them, or look without seeing . . . go away inside." [JAIME I, AFFC]

In short, Jaime has no apparent interest in upholding his father’s teachings or values, and all signs point to a man who hopes to raise his son differently, to undo cycles of tyranny, and to begin anew. This is all sadly compounded by the inheritance Tywin has left behind.

TYWIN'S LEGACY

Jaime’s nobler intentions unfortunately have little place for manoeuvre in the preservation of House Lannister. In fact, the family are essentially left with two options: they can sustain the 'Lannister regime', or they can vanish completely - and the latter isn’t altogether realistic for the most famous family in Westeros, in a narrative that always strives to be.

So for the Lannisters to maintain their security, they are left with largely the former - maintaining the outward appearance of power that Tywin has fostered for his house. The trouble is that maintaining that appearance, when it was previously sustained by the severity of the actions one man was willing to take.

Since he rose to the head of his family, Tywin has ruled by fear: he has made enemies of powerful people, false friends of others, and they only cower because of the ultimate threat that Tywin has showed more than once that he can act upon - given cause, he will demolish a house completely. Tywin’s method essentially runs opposite to his father’s: where Tytos offered lenience, Tywin determines to offer none: you are with him, or you are nothing.

Whilst this has been effective in removing smaller targets such as the Reynes and Tarbecks, it has done outsized damage in ruining the good faith and trust that others might have in House Lannister: certainly a Lannister will pay his debts, but what it takes to accrue one is the fear that Tywin rules with.

Tywin’s demolition method was attempted on House Stark in ASOS, and by AFFC, it may seem to have been successful on the surface level. The northern forces are in pieces, the Lannisters are allied to the Tyrells, and there is a new Lannister king on the throne. The threats from overseas seem vague and obscure, and Tommen holds tomorrow. 

But of course, this is not actually the case. Sansa is not dead, nor Arya, nor Bran and Rickon. They’ve survived through their parents’ memory and teachings, and their father’s vassals are already conspiring the Starks’ return to the north. It goes without saying that the power of Winterfell is sustained through security and loyalty, not fear, and that fear is infinitely more fragile, with a great deal more work required in sustaining it. 

Of course, Tywin's reasons for ruling with fear are, despite his pretences, rooted in his own feelings of inadequacy rather than political practicality: this is a man who has grown up feeling humiliated and undermined by his own father, and is desperate to regain the power and respect he believes he's entitled to - by any means necessary. Still, such is the state of the legacy he leaves behind for his own son: an unsustainable campaign of fear, with no-one left to uphold it:

Tywin was big even when he was little." She gave a sigh. "Who will protect us now?"

Jaime kissed her cheek. "He left a son."

"Aye, he did. That is what I fear the most, in truth."

That was a queer remark. "Why should you fear?"

"Jaime," she said, tugging on his ear, "sweetling, I have known you since you were a babe at Joanna's breast. You smile like Gerion and fight like Tyg, and there's some of Kevan in you, else you would not wear that cloak . . . but Tyrion is Tywin's son, not you." [JAIME V, AFFC]

Ironically, what is here identified by Genna as a weakness of Jaime’s is really a weakness of Tywin’s. He has an heir who might have carried the torch forward for House Lannister, might just have managed to build enough bridges for whichever Lannister came next… but Tywin’s view of the world is such that that heir is an abused, embittered man more interested in their downfall. The force that might have once sustained them will now be turned against them as Tyrion joins with Daenerys Targaryen - and regardless, whatever progress and good faith Tyrion fostered for House Lannister in ACOK was quickly undone by Tywin in ASOS with the Red Wedding.

So what’s left is only a hopeless, toxic mess: House Lannister has no true friends and no true allies. They have only a host of enemies, small and large, who desire the utter demolition of a house that sought the same of others. And the man left to carry the torch is one without conviction in anything it stands for.

Nonetheless, the torch still rests with Jaime, with the stakes high as they’ve ever been for he and his loved ones. In AFFC, GRRM shows Jaime attempting a performance as Tywin’s heir, all whilst giving away vital ground, leading without conviction and resenting his role. By the end of ADWD, Jaime will have all but abandoned the Lannister cause for the pursuit of redemption, and the collapse of his house will enter overdrive.

[PART TWO: Bluffs, Bargaining & Baby Trebuchets - Why Jaime Can't Win in the Riverlands]

[gothwineaunts]

I tried my best to replicate the post that Tumblr ate earlier.

It’s not as good but you'll get the jist I think. :’)  

---

Hi again! I wanted to follow up on my post from yesterday. I’ve been mostly offline since then, and I feel much better now, especially after seeing the thoughtful responses y’all left. Where did you all even come from!? I don’t think I’ve ever posted this account anywhere, haha. But thank you so much. I’m horrendous at taking a damn compliment but I read all the replies and reblogs and I’m just incredibly humbled. You all brought up my mood a lot and highkey made me feel sane again. I’ve been so confused at why everyone in the WEBTOON comments seems to be so mad all the time, it kind of does my head in if I’m being honest.

But please don’t worry about me or Flynn. Or about Nevermore! We’d never change the story to fit what we think the commenters want us to do, for a lot of reasons. The most important of which is. If we had to do that, I think we’d rather just stop making it. What they seem to want is a story we’re not really interested in telling.

Wholesome wlw is a wildly important thing to be able to find if you’re looking for it. That really cannot be overstated. Until very recently, queer characters have been subjected by popular media to a disproportionate amount of anguish and violence. So the concept of seeing two women just, living a safe and fulfilling life together? I get why people want to see that so badly. And there’s so much beautifully written aspirational content for queer audiences out there now, and I’m pleased to death over it. But the thing is, it’s just not what we’re making.

Nevermore was always intended to be a dark gothicky romance with horror elements. Like Wuthering Heights, or Phantom of the Opera. Because those were the stories that always inspired us when we were young. Bloodsoaked stories of melodrama, intrigue, grief, and passion. Those stories would captivate me and get me asking all kinds of questions. Why can’t the Phantom be a beautiful woman? Why does Christine have the agency of a desk lamp? Why can’t sapphics have something cool like this?

So we decided to make it. Nevermore is not a wholesome romance. It doesn’t try to be. The point was never to explore sapphics having a healthy and (heavy air quotes here) “normal” relationship, like heterosexual couples get to have in real life. We already have that, together, Flynn and I. We live it, everyday.  In Nevermore, what we wanted most was to explore a sweeping sapphic romance full of danger, like heterosexual couples get to have in fiction. That’s why we love those kinds of stories so much, because of how divorced they are from the mundanity of real life. They’re fantasies.

I know that I'm preaching to the choir, aha.

But my point is: if you go to a hardware store to order a cake, you’re probably going to be disappointed. If what you crave is aspirational wlw content, there are so many bakeries you can go to that will give you exactly what you’re hoping for, and more. I especially recommend Muted by Miranda Mundt. It’s also on Webtoon, it’s completed, and it’s free to read.

And please know that I’m not saying to stop reading Nevermore, just maybe to adjust your expectations a little bit. We don’t sell cakes here, but I am pretty sure I've got a few 12ft tall skeleton lawn ornaments in the back if you're interested.

[newskin4theoldceremony]

DARKNESS AT THE BREAK OF NOON SHADOWS EVEN THE SILVER SPOON THE HANDMADE BLADE THE CHILDS BALLON ECLIPSE BOTH THE SUN AND MOON TO UNDERSRAND YOU KNOW TOO SOON THERE IS NOW SENSE IN TRYING POINTED THREATS THEY BLUFF WITH SCORN SUICIDE REMARKS ARE TORN FROM THE FOOLS GOLD MOUTHPIECE THE HOLLOW HORN PLAYS WASTED WORDS PROVES TO WARN THAT HE NOT BUSY BEING BORN IS BUSY DYING TEMPTATIONS PAGE FLIES OUT THE DOOR YOU FOLLOW FIND YOURSELF AT WAR WATCH WATERFALLS OF PITY WAR YOU FEEL TO MOAN BUT UNLIKE BEFORE YOU’D DISCOVER THAT YOU’D JUST BE ONE MORE PERSON CRYING SO DON’T FEAR IF YOU HEAR A FORIEGN SOUND TO YOUR EAR ITS ALRIGHT MA I’M ONLY SIGHING AS SOME WARN VICTORY SOME DOWNFALL PRIVATE REASONS GREAT OR SMALL CAN BE SEEN IN THE EYES OF THOSE WHO CALL THAT MAKE ALL THAT SHOULD BE KILLED TO CRAWL WHILE OTHERS SAY DON’T HATE NOTHING AT ALL EXCEPT HATRED DISILLUSIONED WORDS LIKE BULLETS BARK AS HUMAN GODS AIM FOR THEIR MARK MAKE EVERYTHING FROM TOY GUNS THAT SPARK TO FLESH COLORED CHRISTS THAT GLOW IN THE DARK IT’S EASY TO SEE WITHOUT LOOKING TO FAR THAT NOT MUCH IS REALLY SACRED WHILE PREACHERS PREACH OF EVEIL FATES TEACHERS TEACH THAT KNOWLEDGE WAITS CAN LEAD TO HUNDRED DOLLAR PLATES GOODNESS HIDES BEHIND ITS GATES BUT EVEN THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES SOMETIMES MUST HAVE TO STAND NAKED AND ALTHOUGH THE RULES OF THE ROAD HAVE BEEN LODGED ITS ONLY PEOPLES GAMES YOU GOT TO DODGE AND ITS ALRIGHT MA I CAN MAKE IT ADVERTISING SIGNS THAT CON YOU INTO THINKING YOURE THE ONE THAT CAN DO WHATS NEVER BEEN DONE THAT CAN WIN WHATS NEVER BEEN WON MEANWHILE LIFE OUTSIDE GOES ON ALL AROUND YOU YOU LOSE YOURSELF YOU REAPPEAR YOU SUDDENLY FIND YOUVE GOT NOTHING TO FEAR ALONE YOU STAND WITH NOBODY NEAR WHEN A TREMBLING DISTANT VOICE UNCLEAR STARTLES YOUR SLEEPING EARS TO HEAR THAT SOMEBODY THINKS THEY REALLY FOUND YOU A QUESTION IN YOUR NERVES IS LIT YET YOU KNOW THERE IS NO ANSWER FIT TO SATISFY ENSURE YOU NOT TO QUIT TO KEEP IT IN YOUR MIND AND NOT FORGET THAT IT IS NOT HE OR SHE OR THEM OR IT THAT YOU BELING TO BUT THOUGH THE MASTERS MAKE THE RULES FOR THE WISE MEN AND THE FOOLS I GOT NOTHING MA TO LIVE UP TO FOR THEM THEY MUST OBEY AUTHORITY THAT THEY DO NOT RESPECT IN ANY DEGREE WHO DESPISE THEIR JOBS THEIR DESTINY SPEAK JEALOUSY OF THEM THAT ARE FREE DO WHAT THEY DO JUST TO BE NOTHING MORE THAN SOMETHING THEY INVEST IN WHILE SOME ON PRINCIPLES BAPTIZED TO STRICT PARTY PLATFORM TIES SOCAIL CLUBS IN DRAG DISGUISE OUTSIDERS THEY CAN FREELY CRITICIZE TELL NOTHING BUT WHK TO IDOLIZE AND SAY GOD BLESS HIM WHILE ONE WHO SINGS WITH HIS TONGUE ON FIRE GARGLES IN THE RAT RACE CHOIR BENT OUT OF SHAPE FROM SOCIETYS PLIERS CARES NOT TO COME UP ANY HIGHER BUT RATHER GET YOU DOWN IN THE HOLE THAT HES IN BUT I MEAN NO HARM NOR PUT FAULT ON ANYONE THAT LIVES IN A VAULT BUT ITS ALRIGHT MA IF I CAN PLEASE HIM OLD LADY JUDGES WATCH PEOPLE IN PAIRS LIMITED IN SEX THEY DARE TO PUSH FAKE MORAL INSULT AND STARE WHILE MONEY DOESNT TALK IT SWEARS OBSCENITY WHO REALLY CARES PROPAGANDA ALL IS PHONY WHILE THEM THAT DEFEND WHAT THEY CANNOT SEE WITH KILLERS PRIDE SECURITY IT BLOWS THE MIND MOST BITTERLY FOR THEM THAT THINK DEATH’S HONESTY WON’T FALL UPON ‘EM NATURALLY LIFE SOMETIMES MUST GET LONELY MY EYES COLLIDE HEAD ON WITH STUFFED GRAVEYARDS FALSE GOALS I SCUFF AT PETTINESS WHICH PLAYS SO ROUGH WALKED UPSIDE DOWN INSIDE HANDCUFFS KICK MY LEGS TO CRASH IT OFF SAY OKAY I’VE HADE ENOUGH WHAT ELSE CAN YOU SHOW ME AND IF MY THOUGHT DREAMS CAN BE SEEN THEYD PROBABLY PUT MY HEAD IN A GUILLOTINE

BUT ITS ALRIGHT MA IT’S LIFE AND LIFE ONLY

[chokovit]

I'm gonna rant and vent

I'm gonna rant and vent about people I consider my brethren, my comrades, and my peers. I'm 100% not interested in debating or arguing with anyone at all so don't expect that if you message me.

I fucking hate election year. Every 4 years it's the same god damn song and dance and every other election it's worse and worse. And I'm not talking about some shitty pat ourselves on the back, circle jerking feel good about yourself garbage where I preach to the choir and we all sing "Yeah I feel that way too!"

I'm talking about Leftists, specifically, American Leftists (as I am American this will be therefore be from the point of view of one and my grievances will henceforth be specifically about "AMERICAN" Leftists so foh with your "That's an american centric view" shit).

I'm gonna preface what I'm about to say by stating the obvious. I am a leftist. Whether you fucking like it or not, whether you agree with me being one or not, I am. I don't hate leftists, as hard as this rant will make that easy to believe. I'm just very bothered by trends I see among them. They bother me because, unlike conservatives, I actually want leftists to "win". I actually want us to succeed. But in case your world view is black and white to the point you need me spelling it out for you, yes I am a leftist, I agree with leftists, and I am absolutely repulsed by Conservatism.

Now let me get into the meat and potatoes of what I want to bitch about. Basically, in the past, whenever I saw people bemoan that leftists are largely signal virtuing, morally uptight, jerkasses I thought of it as nothing more than the typically reactionary pant shitting rhetoric we've come to expect from Right-Wing discourse. And to be fair, back than, in the early-mid 2010s it probably was. But now? I don't fucking know anymore, it really does seem like at the very least a worryingly large amount of leftists think they're a part of some clique or social group and don't understand both the implications and power of their own standing. Particularly and most especially when it comes to voting. Let me tell you something, something really fucking important. You have nothing, you are nobody, and you are mostly powerless to do anything at all...EXCEPT for one thing, and that's voting. Yes, you can call your senator and congressperson but even thats only really gonna work if your congressperson or senator is one that'll even consider your interests. Do you think people in Lauren Boebert's district feel confident calling her to complain about trans issues? Yeah no. Every single fucking vote, every single god damn one matters and you can fuck off with your "both parties are the same" and "voting doesn't matter" bullshit. One party is waging a culture war on our entire nation, one party wants to make sure you're following a rigid social hierarchy, one party wants to turn Christianity into state law, one party wants to drape everything in repugnant Christian Nationalism and it's not Democrats.

Yes, yes it sucks that we can only pick from the two. No, no voting third party is not an option, we do not get the privilege of living in a country with a multi-party system. The DNC and the RNC both respectively own the two whole halves of the media industry in the United States, and no I'm not making that up. As cool and based as you think you look here on tumblr preaching about how we'll all vote for some super sick Ultra-Commie Socialist Dream party it's not going to happen. How many people will be inspired by you organizing on tumblr? in public even? on campus? Do you know the statistics you'd need? 2020 had an election turn out of 154 MILLION people! over 81 Million of them voted for Biden, and 74 Million of them voted for Trump! Now let's do a hypothetical, and lets be god damn realistic about it okay? REALISTICALLY, you and your lefty friends will never, ever, in all your attempts and rhetoric and debate, will ever be able to convince a MAGA Trump supporter from 2020 to vote for the Green Party. It will. Not. Happen. So that 74 Million? That stays, you get none of that. But, you could probably convince Progressives and Liberals who voted for Biden to do so (you know, if you actually want to shut the fuck up for 10 seconds and stop crying about how much you claim you hate them so all your friends nod and clap at you for being a super cool edgy leftist). So okay, let's be REALLY optimistic, let's say you convince like 20 million of those people who would've voted for Biden to vote for you, lets be even more optimistic and say you started with a base of 2 million people. I want you to keep this in mind that 2 Million people alone would be a record for the green party. In 2020 they had a popular vote of 406,000, literally less than half a million. But I digress. You're at 22 Million people, now lets consider people who didn't vote in 2020. That's 80 Million people, but, BUT, that's not a big pool of 80 million for you to grab from. We need to consider statistics first. Out of that 80 Million only roughly 30% of them didn't vote specifically because they either were undecided or didn't like the candidates. Therefore your actual pool of candidates interested in voting for you is 56 Million people. If you were only able to convince 20 million Biden voters, chances are you'd convince even less undecided voters. Realistically you should only get a hairs fraction of voters but, I'm trying to make a point here so lets say you get the largest share of Undecided Voters, somehow you're just super cool and based and you convince 30 million to vote for you. Not you have 54 Million votes. Congratulations, you have made US History by being the most voted for third party in the history of the US. You have beaten the previous record set by Jo Jorgensen in 2020 by a whopping 52 Million Votes (yes, really, that's the most a third party has ACTUALLY ever gotten before, just shy of 2 million votes). Despite your epic feel good win, the Orange piece of shit running against you, who has been galvanizing his base and everyone from the most fervant of maga's to your needle dick co-worker you kind of get along with despite voting republican for "fiscal" reasons, has surpassed his previous record by a little bit, he only really pooled in about a million more....which is 75 Million voters. Which is over 20 million people more than you.

Now I get it, I hear you barkin' big dog, we don't decide elections on popular vote, it's decided on the Electoral College. My point here is showing you how unfeasible third parties really truly are. This isn't a movie, this isn't like someone's gonna make some grand speech and everyone claps and comes to their senses and all of a sudden votes for "the right candidate". No, for a party that's NOT Libertarian to get even 10 million people to vote for them would be a historical precedent. And you don't need me to tell you that 10 million people is not nearly enough people spread across 50 states to make up for the electorate you'd need to win an election.

So why is this important? Why is it important we vote against republicans instead of voting for whatever helps us sleep at night, makes us feel good, and makes us look super "in" with our buddies online? Uh, because republicans will continue to do the things they're doing so long as they see it as a means to make themselves electable. Sure, some people say "well it's not MY fault it's the dems faults for not being GOOD enough for me to vote for them" and to that I say pbbbbth, you fucking KNOW better. You KNOW better, because you're a leftist, how dangerous fascism is, how bad and poisonous and terrible Traditionalism is. Consider this, another hypothetical okay? Everyone is so disgusted by the perils of conservatism they unite, as they did in 2020, to vote against them. They do it again in 2024, They do it again in 2028, and a 4th time in 2032. You've now had two full term presidents in the United States, will that make the conservatives go away? no. But will it swing the pendulum back? Yes! YES IT WILL! Politicians only give a shit about one thing and thats GETTING ELECTED. And if those mother fuckers start to realize that conservatism is an UNWINNABLE position, than they will, at the least, begin to abandon Conservatism as a platform for their party.

At the moment, that's NOT what's happening. Instead, we have Conservatives emboldened by 40 years of Reagan Rhetoric slowly shifting the pendulum ever more right. They've been doing it for 4 god damn decades okay, and you think 1 term from a dem president is going to start shifting it back? Fuck. The Fuck. Off. Dems are, from a global perspective, a centre-right party. When and if they do anything to "shift" the pendulum left, it's going to be shifted less to the left and more toward the "centre". Right now THAT IS WHAT YOU WANT!!!! YOU WANT THAT!!! HAVING THE PENDULUM FARTHER AWAY FROM THE RIGHT IS A /GOOD/ THING BECAUSE RIGHT NOW ITS DANGEROUSLY FAR TO THE RIGHT.

This shit doesn't make me liberal, this shit makes me pragmatic. I DONT. LIKE. CONSERVATIVES. I'm guessing if you've read this far /YOU/ probably don't either (or at least you claim to). But I don't hate them because they're rhetoric is bad, because they act like bigots or say mean/offensive things. I hate them because I genuinely hate their ideology, I hate their beliefs, I think everything they want for you and me and society at large is a fucking POISON to us as a modern, progressive society. And that's for obvious reason, they don't WANT us to be a modern, progressive society. If you've hated conservatives this entire time because of any "shocking" or "apalling" things you've seen or heard from them or that MSNBC or your lefty friends have shown you (including me) than I'm sorry but you're hating them for the wrong reasons. I mean, not that it isn't valid to hate someone for being a dick head. But your repulsion, your disgust should run deeper than that. You should be terrified and stop at nothing to want to crush Conservative ideology from the grip it has on American society. The vast majority of conservatives want to kill you, do you understand that? Whether that's because of their bigoted views, or because of LITERALLY CENTURY LONG WORTH OF PROPAGANDA AGAINST LEFTIST AND SOCIALIST VALUES they see you as a threat and want you dead. As much as they point and ridicule "libs" and "liberals" like you do, the liberals will be fine. It's YOU who won't be, it's YOU who should be hating them the most. And from what I see, you don't. Because if leftists truly felt threatened by conservatism they'd be stopping at nothing to rid it from our system. Instead, Leftists are more concerned with policing themselves, more concerned with having some super cool "hot take" on whoever the current president is. Leftists are more comfortable being the edgy outcasts, and if they're successful, they're not outcasts anymore. Fuck that. I haven't claimed leftism my entire life since I was 13 (I'm 30 now) just cuz I wanted to be edgy, and different. I didn't want to "look smart" and prove some "moral superiority" over people. You can do that shit with literally any political ideology. I claimed Leftism as my political ideology because it is, to me, the most pragmatic to ending universal suffering. And with that, I want leftism as an ideology to prevail and succeed. Not remain in the fucking shadows, ever caught on the side-lines of a worsening tug-o-war between Liberals and Fascists.

And most importantly of all, I want this to succeed, it NEEDS to succeed. And to do that we MUST unify, divide, and conquer. Yes, that means at least for a while we have to unify with Liberals. Our battle right now should be with the scourge of Fascism. The Soviet's didn't turn their guns mid-way through fighting the Nazi's cuz "erm actually the Allies are cringe too" no, they fucking united against a common, worse enemy. In fact, let me dive into the Nazi's cuz there's an interesting tid bit here. The Weimar republic, pre-Nazi rise, was composed of like 3 "left" wing parties. Needless to say by US standards all 3 of these parties would be considered left of Democrats but I digress. The refusal of all 3 of these parties to unite and caucus together created fractions in the political system of Germany at the time. This made it way fucking easier for the Nazi's to come in and sweep things up afterwards. There's many reasons WHY they were fractured, but those are beside the point of what I am trying to say here. It's like, that one part from Sun Tzu's Art Of War that people actually remember: "Divide and Conquer" with political division, the Nazi's easily just swept in and destroyed them. Do not forget, Fascism is an inherently authoritarian ideology. It is therefore organized and demands rigid conformity. If we do not unite, we will be easier to break apart and fall victim to it's clutches.

Finally, and lastly, I think this last part just comes from our horrible education system in the US. I understand many people probably didn't take Civics in high school, to those people I am sorry. As there's no way you could get how our system works because the system itself failed to educate you. If you did take civics in high school, or god forbid college, than you fucking know better. YOU! WILL NOT! CHANGE ANYTHING! IN A MEASLY 4! FUCKING! YEARS!

I know what we want, I know because I share a lot of the same values as you, even if I don't share your methods. I also know them because I've been reading you people post about them for the better part of like 15 years! NOTHING YOU WANT TO SEE IN GOVERNMENT, NONE OF THE CHANGES YOU WANT TO SEE HAPPEN! NONE OF THEM ARE GONNA HAPPEN IN ONE PRESIDENCY! Need I remind you that the current state of affairs has been shifted to the Right over a process that has taken FOURTY! FUCKING! YEARS!? and you think somehow that you'll just come in with some super cool epic revolutionary spirit and change shit in a couple years? That's not realistic! IT's just! NOT! But that doesn't mean we CANT change things. Yes, it does mean we have to change things slowly, it DOES mean we have to play the long game. But guess what, the Conservatives have been playing the long game since that shit bag Reagan leaked poisonous venom from his gunshot wound in DC. In fact they've probably been doing it longer, from 1965.

You wanna know if things can get worse? You already know the answer to that, yes. Yes things can get worse. Yes a society can advance forward, only to move backward. This literal exact fucking thing happened once in modern history, and it took 3 major super powers to defeat it.

Leftism isn't a fucking club, it's not a circle jerk for all of us to feel good about ourselves for being intellectuals and morally upright people. It's a fucking political ideology, that's it. It's not one of your fandoms. So no, you don't need to spend all the energy spent arguing with and debating with every other leftist and YES I know how that sounds coming from me. As much as this rant will have you assume otherwise I don't really spend much time debating other leftists. Mostly because a good chunk of leftists are way too reactionary to give me a charitable and honest platform. Anyone you disagree with is a fascist. And yes I've ACTUALLY had people call me this before. You dilute the term, you HELP the fascists this way. Fascism is a very specific evil, it's not just people who disagree with you. Sometimes, you will feel uncomfortable about the views other leftists have. That's normal. That doesn't mean they're "Liberal" or "Fascists". Again, this isn't a little pow wow where we sit around and agree with each other and get super psyched together about our favorite piece of political theory, and than if someone says something we disagree with we just kick them out of the circle. That's not how that works. That's not how any functional political movement succeeds. Right now, you and I have ZERO seats at the table, we don't exist on the grand political spectrum, as much as the GOP tries to fear monger that we do. So yes, we will have to unify sometimes with people we don't like. We will have to agree to disagree and come together for a common enemy.

I know this will change literally nobody's mind but I just really needed to get all of these thoughts out. I want them out and I want people to read them so that they can at least SEE the perspective of leftists outside their fucking echo chamber. Our division is NOT conducive to our success. We are going to /FAIL/ because the pendulum will keep going to the right. It'll fail cuz we are more concerned about making a choice that makes us feel morally vindicated than one that is pragmatic. I have nothing else to say anymore. Fuck Americans. Fuck all of them. Fuck all the American Conservatives. Fuck all the American Liberals. Fuck all the American Leftists. And Fuck all the undecided pieces of shit who couldn't decide whether or not they want to vote against fascism or let it slip on in. Fuck all of you, you uneducated, feel-good, self-satisfying, non-communitarian, individualistic, pigs of society. I sincerely wish I was born in literally any other country because at least than I wouldn't have to deal with being around some of the most inane, vapid, superficial fucking human beings on the planet. American Society is a god damn joke. Only above Israel. And that's not a bar you should be proud of.

[hidingoutbackstage]

I've seen someone say that cozy horror came from gaming/streaming, and describes cozy aesthetic and gameplay(???) but with darker themes and narratives.

Examples of this are apparently Little Nightmares and Night in the woods (i fail to see how anything about LN is cozy tbh. I could rant about how we probably should stop woobyfying LN but i'll spare you the pain, especially since i think i'm preaching to the choir here)

That person said that it's inherently difficult to adapt to other media because of the lack of input from the consumer, but gave examples like OtGW or Infinity Train.

I've seen very little actual definition of cozy horror, it seems no one agrees on what it really is (mayhaps because it doesn't really make a lot of sense)

It also seems like it's really not that popular of a name, so it's difficult finding sources lol. It feels like 1 person said it once and like 20 people followed, idk.

Seems there is indeed no such thing as cozy horror lol

You are ABSOLUTELY preaching to the choir about LN btw I know I don’t blog about it on here but I do love those games and I feel like there’s nothing cozy about those games, they’re terrifying, I was gripping my mouse with fear in most levels, the ending is scary and just because it has a cute style and is about kids doesn’t mean it’s cozy.

A lot of horror about things that are “cozy” or “familiar” is scary because of that tbh. I hate what the backrooms has become but its origin was just the liminal space feeling of unease that I really like, it’s effective as horror without the monsters.

Seeing a place that’s supposed to be cozy, like a cottage or a child’s playroom become scary or eerie sometimes elevates the horror since it is taking something we know to be “cozy” or familiar and turning it into something meant to horrify us. I’m not sure how to find comfort in that kind of horror.

Sometimes horror can be “comforting” or nice or w/e, hell, the final girl trope is based on how satisfying it is to see someone who’s been tortured make it out safe and even fight back against the horror. It’s satisfying, but it’s not “cozy.”

Cozy and horror are essentially antonyms. People need to accept that words have meaning and not mixing them up

[lightedwindows]

I posted 5,220 times in 2022

33 posts created (1%)

5,187 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sersi

@tomhollandnet

@tomdayaland

@marveledits

@princessrhcenyra

I tagged 5,208 of my posts in 2022

#mcu - 2,144 posts

#mcucast - 1,016 posts

#spiderman - 689 posts

#tom holland - 639 posts

#zendaya - 442 posts

#abbott elementary - 334 posts

#moon knight - 308 posts

#stranger things - 238 posts

#ms marvel - 177 posts

#the x files - 177 posts

Longest Tag: 84 characters

#i just find it hard to believe that even messy oscar isaac face would be forgettable

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

If there’s one thing I see tumblrs I follow post about it’s how not reblogging is horrible and killing fandom (I always reblog things I like) and now people aren’t staying active in fandoms long enough (I average about four years in a fandom and honestly, sometimes even longer) and no one comments (I do comment, probably not enough) - cause apparently it’s very important that the tumblrs I follow make sure their followers know how to interact with fan stuff correctly.

But I already do what I’m getting lectured and harangued to do. How many times do I see posts thanking people who reblog? People who leave kudos? People who hang around? (Tho thank you to the mutual who joked that liking posts was a hate crime because I giggle at that every time I like a post, lol. I know I shouldn’t! Likes and kudos are worthless insults, right?) I mean, I follow @ao3commentoftheday so sometimes I see posts acknowledging not all of us are destroying fandom by doing everything wrong. But mostly I see posts not so much preaching to the choir but yelling at the choir even while they’re singing.

Does that work? When people tell me they think kudos are worthless, I generally stop reading their stories and if I still keep reading, I don’t leave comments or kudos. I would probably leave a wrong comment anyway. When people tell me my likes are worthless and mean nothing, I kinda stop interacting with their posts period.

But it has to work on someone, right? Why else would you keep hectoring the people reading your posts who are choosing to read your posts because they follow you, right? 

(People like to vent, I know. But these posts don’t read like vents.)

11 notes - Posted August 20, 2022

#4

Anyone else read Dumbing of Age? Anyone else crying the last three days when the comic goes up?

15 notes - Posted January 16, 2022

#3

swept me away in your blinding sun

Peter and MJ have a few perfect first dates all in a row and bring a hostess gift when MJ crashes an Avengers meeting.

rating: M words: 8514 warnings: underage 16 year olds making out with each other consenting enthusiastically

16 notes - Posted June 21, 2022

#2

the palm of my hand in the form of a fist   

Peter is bad at keeping secrets from Ned and MJ and they're going to help him regardless. Part 3 of babies aka weird kids! unite! Set in freshmen year of high school.

rating: T words: 1820 no archive warnings reply

19 notes - Posted November 21, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

60 notes - Posted October 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[jeffreycharlestoronto]

shit we are all fucked

Darkness at the break of noon Shadows even the silver spoon The handmade blade, the child's balloon Eclipses both the sun and moon To understand you know too soon There is no sense in trying As pointed threats, they bluff with scorn Suicide remarks are torn From the fool's gold mouthpiece the hollow horn Plays wasted words, proves to warn That he not busy being born is busy dying Temptation's page flies out the door You follow, find yourself at war Watch waterfalls of pity roar You feel to moan but unlike before You discover that you'd just be one more Person crying So don't fear if you hear A foreign sound to your ear It's alright, Ma, I'm only sighing As some warn victory, some downfall Private reasons great or small Can be seen in the eyes of those that call To make all that should be killed to crawl While others say don't hate nothing at all Except hatred Disillusioned words like bullets bark As human gods aim for their mark Make everything from toy guns that spark To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark It's easy to see without looking too far That not much is really sacred While preachers preach of evil fates Teachers teach that knowledge waits Can lead to hundred-dollar plates Goodness hides behind its gates But even the president of the United States Sometimes must have to stand naked An' though the rules of the road have been lodged It's only people's games that you've got to dodge And it's alright, Ma, I can make it Advertising signs they con You into thinking you're the one That can do what's never been done That can win what's never been won Meantime life outside goes on All around you You lose yourself, you reappear You suddenly find you got nothing to fear Alone you stand with nobody near When a trembling distant voice, unclear Startles your sleeping ears to hear That somebody thinks they really found you A question in your eyes is lit Yet you know there is no answer fit To satisfy, insure you not to quit To keep it in your mind and not forget That it is not he or she or them or it That you belong to Although the masters make the rules For the wise men and the fools I got nothing, Ma, to live up to For them that must bow down to authority That they do not respect in any degree Who despise their jobs, their destinies Speak jealously of them that are free Cultivate their flowers to be Nothing more than something they invest in While some on principles baptized To strict party platform ties Social clubs in drag disguise Outsiders they can freely criticize Tell nothing except who to idolize And then say God bless him While one who sings with his tongue on fire Gargles in the rat race choir Bent out of shape from society's pliers Cares not to come up any higher But rather get you down in the hole That he's in But I mean no harm nor put fault On anyone living in a vault But it's alright, Ma, if I can't please him Old lady judges watch people in pairs Limited in sex, they dare To tell fake morals, insult and stare While money doesn't talk, it swears Obscenity, who really cares Propaganda, all is phony While them that defend what they cannot see With a killer's pride, security It blows the minds most bitterly For them that think death's honesty Won't fall upon them naturally Life sometimes must get lonely My eyes collide head-on with stuffed Graveyards, false goals (gods), I scuff At pettiness which plays so rough Walk upside-down inside handcuffs Kick my legs to crash it off Say okay, I have had enough, what else can you show me? And if my thought-dreams could be seen They'd probably put my head in a guillotine But it's alright, Ma, it's life, and life only"

[uchidachi]

Oh! As someone who has followed many many game hype cycles, here’s the (general) standards for pre-game announcements/spoilers:

Any content in an official teaser/trailer/commercial is considered a non-spoiler. So right now that’s pretty limited information on characters. I’m sure we’ll get a larger commercial when there’s a release date, which may have more stuff from the gameplay preview & articles

Anyone who wants to follow the hype train would be reading the articles, watching the gameplay demos, reading developer interviews etc. things that come from official sources & are presumably signed off on being released to the public. anything here is supposed to not be a storyline spoiler, but may very well contain a lot of information about the beginning of the game. What you saw for Origins is pretty standard, and most hype train veterans are expecting that what we hear from official sources will be similar types of information. So these are spoilers, but not spoiler spoilers. Spoiler culture has changed a bit over the years (damn that makes me sound old) but I think general manners currently is to tag these sorts of early gameplay reveals so people who want to be surprised don’t accidentally see them, while also talking about them pretty freely on social media once they’re tagged with #veilguard or w/e. BUT….

Sometimes the devs or the press will spoil something VERY big. A spoiler spoiler. Then people who were ok knowing about the first hour-or-so of the game might find out a lot more then they thought they were signing on for. Generally what happens in this case is people get big mad at the source who did that. (I still have beef with a film critic who did this to an m night shyamalan movie). In general both the company and the press are trying to avoid doing so, but it is a known risk.

Then there’s genuine leaks, of surprises the devs were trying to hide. Sharing these without spoiler warnings and leak disclaimers has always been considered extremely rude. Don’t do this.

Personally, I’m trying to use both #dragon age the veilguard and #dragon age spoilers on any posts that have anything to do with the coming game, just to make sure I’m hitting ppls filters, even when it’s just me being “ooh so excited!” When the game releases I’ll probably switch to just using the former for the pre-game revealed stuff and both for what i find out on my playthrough, but I’m still working on my plan for that transition. (I’m pretty spoiler-conservative, though, so I wouldn’t rely on the whole fandom to do that if you really want to go in spoiler free)

(Though I’m going to purposely leave the spoiler tag off of this post, because otherwise i’m preaching to the choir 😂)

With the new Dragon Age coming out, this is the first time I've ever paid attention to a game launch before. I didn't play Origins until 2016 and then didn't play Inquisition until 2021. But once I did I was hooked.. absolutely pulled in, no looking back, try to learn all the things!

So with the recent Game Informer article seemingly spoiling a couple pretty big story points, I wondered.. what did GI have to say about Origins? I bought a copy of the November 2008 edition off of Ebay (yes, I prefer physical media) to check it out.

The article starts off noting that DA was "announced over four years ago" (so, 2004?) And then re-emerged in 2008 with the new name added "Origins". Interesting!

The article goes into some detail on a Mage background origin playthrough and goes right up to the plot point that you'll eventually become a Grey Warden, and then that the battle at Ostagar starts, goes awry, and that King Cailan is grabbed by an ogre. They go on to say that they won't tell you the result of that. So that's some somewhat big spoilers for the setup of the game up till maybe 5-6 hours in?

It also has an interesting note that "the development team prototyped the entire story using the Neverwinter Nights engine" not all the gameplay but the plot, dialoge, and quests- neat!

The article doesn't share anything about companions other than they exist, some might be surprises, you might not get all of them, some will disagree with your actions and/or each other and there will be banter and a "camp" to go back to.

It then gets into some gameplay mechanics- pausing, tactical fighting, how much you can let your companion do their own fighting.

And finishes talking about how the game is providing "an extensive toolset that allows you to make your own adventures and share them with the community". Is that true though? I've seen plenty of people doing mods for better hair/skintone and cosmetic things but did people actually create adventures- I'm guessing fights or scenarios to go through? I haven't heard of that but I've really only been in the fandom since 2021.

I'm pretty interested to see now exactly how much the GI article spoiled of DA4 and what they're not telling us! Fall 2024 is so far away..

[gloriousmonsters]

su she: i have some criticisms of the gusu lan

literally everyone: and yet you play the guqin! curious 🤔🤔🤔

[green-and-grey-solarpunk]

Both me and my computer are finally feeling up to posting again, sadly a bit too late to celebrate queen Lizzy’s death. Get your tea ready, this one’s a doozy.

For those of you who might find it weird to celebrate a death, let me make one thing clear: I don’t even wish death on my enemies, I am an advocate for reformative justice and I have faith that people can change. But there’s no fucking reason to be sorry about the queen’s death. She died after a lavishly rich life at nearly 100 years old, it’s natural and normal, and there is no cruelty in not mourning.

The reason I’m celebrating is because she was a bad person. Even before we get to the colonial shit, she vetted over 1000 laws during her reign so that they would serve her interests more. She took extra taxpayer money to fund her own endeavors despite having hundreds of millions to her name. Taxpayer money that should have gone to welfare programs to help lower poverty in her country. Taxpayer money that could’ve gone so that disabled citizens of the UK wouldn’t be dying while waiting for government benefits. Taxpayer money that allegedly went to covering up p*do allegations against her son. She was racist to Meghan, and didn’t even let poc work for her early in her reign. She had disabled relatives that were falsely reported dead and did not get support from the royal family. She and her family are a remnant of the days of monarchy that even most conservatives agree were gross and bad for the people.

And then you get into the even more heinous colonial shit. When young queen Elizabeth was granted her title, she was in Kenya, as a part of endorsing and whitewashing violent colonial structures in Africa. You can’t feel sorry for someone when you can find pictures of the people tortured under colonial powers that she allowed to continue. Even after the traditional British empire dissolved, capitalist neo-colonialism along with puppet leaders continued to destroy African populations.

And I know that to most of my followers, this is preaching to the choir, many leftists already know this much and probably more about her and her reign. But this is also for centrists, liberals, and conservatives that don’t understand the harm she has done. It doesn’t matter that ‘someone died’ or ‘this is British culture’ because it has done so much harm.

You can legit find conservatives saying with conviction that the British Empire “civilized” the world. Who think that the art and architecture of colonized cultures pales in comparison to the mere train stations the British brought, who think that after the UK “left” the colonies the natives destroyed their own countries, who think that spreading their religion is civil even if it means bringing war and torture and destruction.

Which is why I’m putting conservatives in the tags, so more people can hopefully see and understand. Even if most of them won’t change their minds and there are probably very few conservatives on tumblr of all places. I may be naive, but I choose to have faith in conservatives to realize the white supremacy inherent in revering the queen like this.

[weaselbeaselpants]

Weird week behind me weird week ahead of me but I’ve done a lot of self reflection and came to the weirdest epiphany. The older I get the more I realize all my ‘problems’ with VivziePop - her thoughts on criticism;  the choices she makes in story telling; some of the people she’s worked with (not that any of that’s my business; I’m not her mom) really aren’t about Viv, but more about her fandom.

I’m speaking of the preHazbin era Viv here and as someone who’s only watch horny fish jump at the surface rather than jump straight into the Hazbin-fandom, but given my ‘noncritical’ fellow fans have told me that the Vivziefandom now is also terrible - I guess I’ll go over my experience and make the most out of what I do know.

I followed Viv in 2009 and fell off in 2013 cause I kinda just lost interest and found myself wrapped up in other fandoms. I’ve always felt amicable about her content; I could give or take designs or the way in which she wrote characters -- ((Zech represent!!!)) but it’s honestly surreal and really fun seeing this person I recognize make it big and improve so much. Like I’ve said before I am very happy and very impressed with Viv doing all she’s done in the span of TWO YEARS. wow gurl.

Trouble is, there was the particular breed of fan who really made me...uncomfortable. They felt almost possessive of Viv’s attention. They sang praises about her work in a way that just made me want nothing to do with it because I was worried if I drew those characters these people would be like ‘hey, I’M Viv’s fav artist, not you!”. They would  unironically write Viv messages like:

“you are a GOD” -- “I’m so not worthy compared to you” --“I wish I was as talented as you” -- “YOU ARE EVERYTHING AND CAN’T DO WRONG VIV”.

The kind of messages which were meant to sound flattering but, intentional or not, came off as gaslighting, like they were guilt tripping Viv about being better than them. This behavior, treating your favorite artist/internet personality like your superior and groveling like Starscream, it strikes a nerve with me; partly because I was this way with my favorite artists and influences back in the day,  but also because once I got a taste of that treatment myself I realized just how bad it could be:

There was once a girl on dA who was jealous of me because of the attention I got on my art instead of her. I told her that I wasn’t gonna stop drawing but also that there was nothing wrong with her art and she’d find her place. It was weird being put in that position where someone is very clearly upset at you but also looking for your approval.

The second was some scumball who I blocked in 2016. He wouldn’t speak to me, only write condescending, backhanded comments on my art; check on my profile daily; call me a bootlicker (cuz I took commissions) behind my back; redrew my art and would talk about me in his personal artist notes about how I ‘probably wouldn’t see this’ - oh yeah all the while he did fan art of my characters but again never spoke to me when I replied. When I finally messaged him about his behavior he said he thought I was “really overrated” and “bad for the fandom” cuz I took money and kept him from getting the love he deserved. It took messaging another person within our fandom, one I had been in spats with online before, to finally realize I shouldn't put up with that bs....

That guy who was stalking me btw did so while I was well under 1.K watchers and am still pretty obscure. Anyway, I had one guy unhealthily watching me for the wrong reasons. Just one. This is why when Viv says she “hates creeps” I 150% believe this woman and am not about to call her a liar who just can’t take criticism. Like, if you really think that, I’m sorry but you don’t know what Viv’s gone through from both her critics AND fans.

Of course, a lot of people will be like “I bet you’re just jealous and really just want that kind of attention yourself so you’re preaching to the choir”, but like...no. I am envious of just about any creator who’s the social butterfly I’m not, but, like, if I'm jealous of an artist none of that is that artists’ fault. Ever. It’s my own issues with being comfortable with myself are at stake. If I criticize Viv’s work it’s not because I see her as competition or my Squilliam Fancyson; it’s because I’m a critical fan of animation and cartoons and have my own thoughts to share on the cartoons of an artist I’m familiar with.  Jealousy/envy/mixed-admiration/godIwishthatwereme.jpeg feels are totally natural and valid emotions when you’re a creator. Envy becomes a problem when you internalize, weaponize, and scrutinize people on the basis of them being what you aren’t which -yes - some people do in the name of criticism. ((Although, I would hardly say some of the nastiest AntiViv folk are jealous as much as they are angry that this project they think is harmful is getting attention and using that as justification for some really shitty behavior of their own, which no, this post is not a part of by virtue of coming from a critical fan.))

Critique can come from either a good place or bad place; good critique can be used to bad ends and bad critique can come from a well-meaning place, and vice versa.   It’s the difference between many a criticalfan having a sour taste in their mouth regarding the Viv’s base but persisting in a critique+admiration separate of that, and this asswipemonster trying to weasel his way into Spindlehorse while also bashing Viv on a public forum for clearly vitriolic reasons. He was a creep.

So yeah um please stop insisting that every Hazbin critic is just jealous’ because a) there are people who have a past with Viv’s base and that clouds their judgement, but in a lot of cases that doesn’t invalidate their feelings or thoughts on her work separate from that, and b) I’ve seen what clingy gaslighting jealous fans are. Spoiler: they’re not so much Annie Wilkes as much as they are Tommy Wiseaus. You don’t want Tommy Wiseau following you.

Another bad vibe I really picked up on that I can kinda confirm is still probably the case now: people think that they know Viv and the Spindlehorse crew and have the right to send them shit they don’t need or WANT to be seeing.

Like, I talked with Viv once ages ago. I don’t remember what I said other than we were talking about Frankenweenie, I think. She was nice. Outside of that she said “thank you” to my comments on her deviations but that’s it. I DO NOT KNOW THIS WOMAN AND unless you’ve worked with or are a legit friend/mutual of hers, NEITHER DO YOU. But I don’t think every Vivzie stan/critic knows this. Whether it be people assuming she MUST think they’re headcanon is now canon-canon cuz she liked a comment they made; or some critic thinking they must have seriously hurt her pride because they’ve been blocked by her on twitter (or you know, maybe she and the rest of Spindlehorse is tired of getting @s and don’t have to time to read through your analysis so they’re gonna just block and move on cuz they’re busy).

Just because the creators talk with fans doesn’t mean fans are literally their best friends and have a part in the show’s direction. And yes, critics and reviewers fit that bill as well. Know your damn boundaries people.

If you find/make some kind of contribution as a viewer that’s awesome but you should never expect nor DEMAND the creator see it. The most obvious horror stories involving this and Helluva/Hazbin have been the Instagrams made by the crew being harassed by incestpedo enthusiasts, but it applies even to just @ing creators as well.

I’ve seriously had someone tell me to just take my criticisms directly to Viv and like...no. Why would I do that?

I respect Viv and the artists working with her enough to know that they’re working their asses off on an animated series and should not be bothered. I don’t want them to stop all they’re doing and reply to me. I want them to keep working. Also, that kind of logic makes me wonder how many critics Viv’s found because she found it on her own or if some obsessed fan told her about it - which is really messed up cuz if it IS just good critique you’re, again, just pestering her, and if it wasn’t critique but full on harassment WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU MESSAGE HER ABOUT THAT ANYWAY? I’m sure she doesn’t need to be reminded that people drew and said really awful shit about her on Tapatalk. My point being I’m sure what people think they’re doing is

“OOOoh Viv lookitwut this person is doing in our fandom we need to ban together against this toxic behavior”

but what they’re actually doing, and sounding like, is -

“Hey Viv I know you are working so hard on the show and you’re trying to figure out where to go from here but LOOKITWHUTTHISHATERSAID. LOOKATIT! VALIDATE ME VIV AND PUT’EM IN THEIR PLAAAAAACE!”

TL;DR Viv’s fanbase back in the day consisted of everyman artists and interests but there was this one breed of fan -who I hope was just a vocal minority- that ruined it for everything else.

Call it stanning or ‘simping’ or as it’s classically known, ‘white knighting’, whatever it was it really soured a lot of people on her because of those fans.

That’s why the DollCreep drama got so bad from what I can tell. Doll and Viv had a falling out and then called out eachother online where people who took it upon themselves to speak for them starting throwing mud.

Back in the day I remember Viv used to get mad at artists for ‘stealing’ her style. I think this attitude from Viv directly has vanished but I remember it happening because one of the people she thought was stealing her style did art for me at some point and they were basically shamed/chased off deviantART by a gaggle of these really nasty Vivfans.

inb4> “VIV WAS AWARE AND STILL WEAPONIZES HER FANS THO”

I don’t know that. And honestly, where I’m inclined to believe she’d do something like that then I think Viv is really different and has improved her business and public image from her college days. I’d be very disappointed in her if she was pulling a Butch Hartman or Derek Savage, but I just don’t think she is one, k?

Viv is more self critical and aware than any of these uber protective-gatekeeping fans give her credit for. She said on the Pizzapartypodcast that she knows the Hazbin pilot wasn’t perfect; she’s been able to identify the problems with old Zoophobia; this woman knows that criticism of all kinds need to exist and from what I see she sounds like she’s trying to get used to that. It’s just, you know, when you have nasty antis badgering you, stalkers, obsessive yes-mam’ fans, opinionated shit posters, r34 artists, entitled shippers and the NDAs of a company alongside your own branded image - all that negativity, even the constructive bits, tend to clump together and you just want to scream at it so you can finish the damn cartoon already!!!!

TL;DR: PART TWO

VivziePop/mind is basically indie Tim Burton.  Her work is fun, shallow and made with love but is marketed as being for everyone when it’s really not. Parts of it I love to watch; parts of it drives me crazy cuz of reasonswhatev this isn’t a review.

BUT any fanbase where people tell me I should just “expect what’s coming to me” when I’m trying to argue against dragging creators into fandrama is troubling. People have a parasocial bond with fandoms and their creators and they need to learn when to back off.

[weathergirl8]

Master of Deflection - Part 6

Finally found time to post this sucker during this crazy week of graduation prep! Graduation practice tomorrow and actual ceremony Friday night for my associate's degree!

This is for you @ak47stylegirl and anyone else who enjoys Alan whump/smothering. Of course, there will be some extra Virgil in there too, because I just love the big guy.

@misssquidtracy @gumnut-logic @godsliltippy Thank you for your support on this fic!!

I bring you some Sky Turnip and Land Cabbage 💙💚

As a friendly reminder, I originally came from the TOS and TB 2004 era. I’ve tried to write a few TAG point-of-views, but my comfort zone is the previous. This will take place with Gordon as the redhead, and Virgil as the middle bro. Sorry!

Summary: Being the youngest of five is always hard, especially when they pounce at the slightest hair out of line. Sometimes the art of deflection can sting.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

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

Virgil tried to suppress a yawn as he grabbed the needed medication from the infirmary. Alan’s fever had climbed nearly another degree. The medic of the family instinctively made the call to start antibiotics quickly. Virgil was confident they were now dealing with more than the common cold and that a bacterial infection was beginning to set in.

Entering Alan’s room, the middle Tracy was concerned to see the bed empty. Only the sight of the strewn sheets and a pile of used tissues remained. “Allie?”

“I’m in here,” Alan’s hoarse voice called from the bathroom.

Virgil sat the meds down and met the crumbled form of his baby brother. Alan sat on the bathroom floor, the wall seeming to be the only thing holding him up. “Sick again?”

“Yup,” Alan grumbled as he reached to flush the toilet. Virgil handed him a towel to clean himself up. “Thanks.”

Virgil helped him up but quickly took hold of his younger brother’s waist as the teen’s legs nearly crumbled. “Alan, you okay?”

“Yea,” the teen panted as another cough erupted from him. “Brain and body just don’t want to cooperate at the moment.”

“C’mon, let’s get you back in bed,” Virgil urged as they made the short walk to Alan’s bed. “If you don’t start keeping things down, I’m going to have to start an IV, kiddo. I’m worried about dehydration.”

“You’re preaching to the choir. This isn’t exactly a party,” Alan wheezed, letting his head sink back into his pillow.

Virgil observed him as Alan coughed and tried to take in a deep breath. “How long has that been going on?”

“I dunno,” Alan shrugged. “Awhile, I guess. It’s not like I’m writing all of this down.”

The middle Tracy handed Alan two pills, motioning for the teen to take the antibiotics. “When you’re not exerting yourself, is it hard to breathe?”

Alan gave his older brother a weird look but decided against the first thought that entered his mind. He wouldn’t exactly call laying in bed exerting himself, but who was he to judge? “If you call breathing with my mouth mostly, then sure.”

Virgil now wished he had kept the kid in the infirmary so he could ease his mind and have all of his equipment at his disposal. Knowing it wasn’t something the baby of the family would do, he opted for what he had in front of him. “Alright, if it gets worse, let me know immediately. Here’s something that will help with nausea, and something to hopefully help with that cough,” he said, handing Alan the tiny pill and cup of cough suppressant.

“Why do these always have to taste so gross?” Alan complained as he quickly swallowed several gulps of water.

“That’s how you know it’ll work,” Virgil smirked, winking at his annoyed sibling.

-TB-

The sunrise was Scott’s favorite part of his morning run. The smell of the morning dew across the island jungle and the colorful orange and yellow hues that rippled across the water.

He slowed his pace to a jog as he came across the broadest part of the beach on the Island. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, the oldest Tracy paused as he noticed a figure ahead. Confusion met him as he recognized the build of the person. Scott quickly jogged forward, calling out to his younger brother. “Virgil?”

“Hey, Scott,” the chestnut-haired Tracy greeted, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a towel.

Scott struggled for a moment. He knew he was treading on thin ice for his brother to be up this early. Virgil was always active, but athletically the medic was more of a gym guy. He found more solace in lifting weights and punching bags. Sprinting and running were always something the other brothers had enjoyed, barring John. It was rare to catch Virgil on a run outside of the gym, especially on one before the sun had been up for at least one hour in the sky.

“Pretty view, huh?” Virgil interrupted his thoughts, almost sensing his brother’s unease.

“Always is,” Scott smiled in appreciation. “No sunrise seems to be the same.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Virgil replied, taking a seat along the sand.

Scott’s concern only increased, but he followed his brother along the cool sand. His blue eyes searched the ocean while taking small glances at Virgil.

“You can ask,” Virgil exhaled, surprising the elder. “I know you’re wondering why I’m out here so early.”

Scott tried to suppress the grin that he knew was also on Virgil’s face. “Didn’t want to push.”

Virgil nodded in understanding, letting his hands rest on his raised knees. “Bad dreams and worried about Alan,” he stated plainly.

“I checked in on the kid before I started my run. Al was sound asleep, but he still felt warm and sounded congested. I think that humidifier might be helping,” Scott said, watching Virgil as he stared out into the water. “I didn’t want to disturb him. He needs his rest.”

“Allie’s exhausted,” Virgil admitted. “Between the coughing, vomiting, and congestion, his sleep has been interrupted. I gave him a round of antibiotics and something to help with the other symptoms. Alan’s definitely caught something bacterial for sure. Those cold waters from the rescue didn’t do him any favors.”

“I’m sure those will help,” Scott reassured. “He just needs time for the meds and his immune system to work.” The elder Tracy studied his brother once again. “Do you want to talk about the dreams?”

Virgil sighed as he threw a rock he had been playing with toward the water. “It was about the last mission.”

“I figured,” Scott added. “I would’ve been surprised if you didn’t. I know what it felt like being on the receiving end. I can only imagine what it was like in the moment physically.”

“Definitely won’t be in my top 20,” Virgil chuckled solemnly.

“Who said it was getting past the top 50?” Scott laughed, nudging Virgil.

“Point taken,” the middle Tracy smiled.

“All jokes aside,” Scott started. “Are you okay?”

“Okay is a relative term, Scott. We compartmentalize and move on-“

“-Virg, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“I do,” Virgil acknowledged meeting Scott's intense gaze. “Look, you know what happened. I don’t have to tell you again. I just…. I can’t get the image of the gun shoved against Alan’s neck out of my head and that look on his face. That look… Damnit, Scott. He’s too much like you!”

Scott tried not to laugh but empathized.

“I could tell Alan was scared, but the kid refused to show it. He was so trusting. Trusting of me to get us out of that situation.”

“You did, Virgil. Allie is safe because of you, and so are you. I was just as worried about you as I was our baby brother,” Scott countered. “You did what you had to, and no one was harmed.”

“That’s not the point, Scott. You have no idea how close it came.”

“What do you mean?” Scott asked, confused.

“There’s a bullet hole in the floor of the rescue platform. A hole that was inches away from hitting Alan when he hit the deck.”

Realization dawned on the oldest Tracy. “Is that what your dream was about? That the bullet actually hit Alan?”

Virgil remained silent as he collected his thoughts. He felt Scott turn to face him, the older pilot’s knees resting against one of his own. “Mostly, but what stuck with me most was that look. Like I said, having a hard time getting it out of my head.”

Scott placed a comforting hand along Virgil’s knee, squeezing it. “I know you don’t need me to tell you about how great you are when quick decisions need to be made. That goes without saying, but Allie trusted you with his life because so would I. Any of us would. The next time a lunatic threatens one of my brothers with a gun, he’ll wish neither one of us were around.”

Virgil smiled. “Thanks, Scott.”

“Anytime. You good?”

“I’ll be fine,” Virgil replied. “We probably should head in. Breakfast will be started soon, and I need to check on Alan and make sure Dad isn’t camping at his side.”

“Dad was still asleep when I checked on Al,” Scott said as they began to walk up the path that led to the main villa. “Besides, he has an early call with one of the new brokers, if I remember correctly.”

“Good, that should keep him occupied,” Virgil grinned.

TBC…

[diskwrite-ffxiv]

ffxivwrite 2021 - #11: Preaching to the Choir

Continued from #9 Friable

Gridania, 1565 6AE

It wasn’t that Shandrelle had never had a blade turned against her before. Time had failed to sand away the first time- even now it lurched out of her dreams every so often, casting her out of the pitcher of sleep with a strangled gasp as she sprung upright in bed, sweat plastering her nightgown to her skin. Over two decades later and still memory cast every detail with the surety of a painter’s brush. The crispness of the autumn air, tinged with the bated breath of an oncoming early snow. The crackle of the leaves underfoot as she stumbled off the road. The way the edge of the shortsword caught the glint of dim noon's light as her assailant swung it toward her. The hairs on the back of his hand. The sound of his breath.

And then there was the terrible shout her father loosed, so shockingly inhuman, like the retort of lightning detonating a tree. The way he leapt forward, his azure robe flooding around his legs. The unnatural rent of wind that screamed fury as it tore his chestnut hair from the nape of his neck. The terrible crack, then a thud.

The wind died, and the bandit followed.

It hadn’t been the first time she’d seen death before either, but never like this- never with the violence happening in front of her and certainly not by her father’s hand. She lurched backward, legs quivering like a newborn deer, but her father didn’t turn. He simply stood there, his shoulders heaving with quick, urgent breaths.

Then at last his head jutted over his shoulder, looking back at her, and most of all she would never forget his eyes. The wild frenzy that pulsed through their green depths like a boar lost in blood.

But perhaps it was because of that first time that language leached from her mind like water through her fingers, thoughts stumbling over each other like a swarm of bees drunk on smoke as they heaved this way and that to no destination. And yet at the same time words thundered in on a rampaging herd, expanding a deep breath into her chest. The tip of Ojene’s dagger prickled against her neck as her throat swelled around the air, but Shandrelle swallowed nonetheless as she did her best to straighten. To scrabble onto the outcrop of courage that she didn’t feel.

There was no hint of blood-frenzy in Ojene’s eyes, and Shandrelle supposed that helped. But who knew what lay beneath their stony placidity, belied only by the stark furrow between her brows as they fixed unerringly upon Shandrelle’s face.

Every nerve in Shandrelle’s stomach squirmed, and she licked her lips with a suddenly dry tongue.

“My father,” she said softly, and the words hung in the air as an incongruous bird sang joy in the boughs. “He told me the truth… a few years ago.” Suddenly it was hard to meet Ojene’s eye, but as her gaze began to fall a shiver of mortal peril shrieked down her spine. Throat tightening, she settled for staring at Ojene’s chin. “I- I had just gotten married… some months before. To another Wildwood, named Ezette- I think you’d like her, if-”

Shut up Shandrelle, stop babbling! “Er, anyway-” Heat burst out on her chest, spreading up her neck. “I- I don’t think he meant to tell me. It slipped out of him one day… he made some sort of comment about it because- well… Ezette’s a good match for me, according to our families.”

Even as the words left her lips she cringed. She almost expected the prick of the dagger to bite deeper, and yet- nothing happened. Ojene simply stood there, statuesque.

In the well of silence, shame flooded the rest of the way up Shandrelle’s cheeks. “He, well- he said something about how… it was a good thing he’d gotten you out of the way. And when I asked him what in the hells he meant by that he dodged me at first. But eventually he confessed and- it was… exactly what you’d told me he’d done.”

Peril or not, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. “I- I’m sorry. I should have listened to you… but it wasn’t just about that. I should have listened about everything else too. Everything you were going through, the way people treated you- I really let you down. If I were you I probably would have scrapped me too.”

A deep breath cascaded through Ojene’s nose, the first sound she’d made since she’d asked her question. “Shandrelle,” she said, and suddenly the cold metal at her throat was gone- a half second later the hand clamping her shoulder slipped off.

Shandrelle dared to open her eyes, to see Ojene standing there a couple paces away. The dagger hovered between them, but though its point angled at Shandrelle’s chest the cold intentionality was gone, replaced by the puzzled wrinkle between her brows.

“Do you really think,” Ojene said, “that I’d come put a blade to your throat for some shite over a decade ago?”

The heat simmering in Shandrelle’s cheeks blazed into an intense inferno and she took an involuntary step back as her fingers trailed nervously behind her, budging against the velvety petals of vetch.

“No, of course not,” she lied.

“Fucking hells,” Ojene exclaimed, and the blade gave up any pretense of hostility as she slumped against the ruin of a fallen tree, perched awkwardly on its crackled bark. “You really don’t know anything, do you?”

“Know… about what?”

With a bone-rattling sigh Ojene scrubbed her free hand over her closely-sheared scalp, and her gaze dropped to the ground as she propped one boot on the meandering spiral of a half-unearthed root. But her attention shot back up but a moment later, and surprise spiked down Shandrelle’s spine. For something of Ojene’s perennial mask had dropped, leaving the troubled flicker of consideration in her eyes exposed. As if, despite the nature of their encounter, they’d somehow found themselves thrust into a hazy etching of the past.

Decision clicked into place, and to Shandrelle’s shivering shock a bitterly wry smile sprawled across Ojene’s face.

“Your family is trying to kill me again,” she said brightly.

[deja-you]

Maybe TNR at Christmas?

Ummm yes ! Thomas gets bullied too much in this drabble, but its cute...

“Your father throws too many parties, angel,” Thomas grumbled.

You scoffed. “You’re preaching to the choir, Thomas. But don’t worry, this one is just family and friends.”

“Somehow that sounds worse.”

“Excuse me?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Y’know I love your family,” he leaned forward to place a kiss on your forehead to appease you, “but I’m not sure your family loves me.”

“That’s nonsense.” You paused. “Well, Alex may hold some animosity.”

“That’s not who I’m afraid of,” Thomas mumbled under his breath. 

“Hm?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he said, grabbing the patterned Christmas tie from the counter and held it up to you. “Help me put my tie on?”

You rolled your eyes but took the tie from him anyway. “We both know you don’t need my help tying your tie. You’re a grown man, and I know you’ve been wearing ties all your life.”

“You caught me,” he placed his hands on your hips and gently leaned you against the counter while you worked on his tie. “I just like making excuses to be close to you.”

You did your best to suppress your smile, but Thomas saw right through you. “You like the tie, though?”

He glanced down at the bright tie patterned with colorful presents and Christmas lights. It was only for a second, but you saw his small grimace before he replaced it with a tie.

“...you don’t like it, do you?” You asked. 

Thomas’s mouth parted slightly and he quickly shook his head. “What? No! Angel, of course I love it.”

“Really?”

“Yes. You said all the men in your family wear Christmas ties to this party?” He asked for clarification. 

You nodded. “It’s tradition. You’re really going to impress them. And look,” you reached down and pressed a button on the back of his tie and the little lights began to blink red and green, “it lights up!”

“That’s... fantastic.”

Thomas tried a few more times to convince you to just stay in for the night, and you had to admit, the offer was incredibly tempting. But after a little more whining from Thomas, you got him in a cab and to your father’s place on Park Ave. 

“Stop being so nervous,” you told Thomas as you rang the doorbell. 

“I can’t help it, I--”

The door swung open and you were swept out of the cold and into the lavish family room. Thomas pasted on his most charismatic smile and followed you in, shrugging off his jacket. 

“Oh darling, I’m glad you made it,” exclaimed a short, round woman Thomas recognized as Martha Washington. 

When she finally released you from her bone crushing hug, she turned to Thomas with a warm smile. “It’s good to have you here as well, Thomas. Our Y/n’s been telling us so much about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” Thomas laughed.

“Of course. Alexander was able to even it out with only bad things to say,” Martha giggled, shooting Thomas a teasing look.

“Why is that so easy to believe?” Thomas groaned.

“Ah, there’s my girl!” 

George got up from his chair to greet you, pulling you into a warm embrace. A few other members of the family got onto their feet to greet the two of you as well. When George was done hugging you, he turned to Thomas and shook his hand. 

“It’s nice to see you, Jefferson,” George said cordially. His eyes landed on Thomas’s tie and his jaw dropped before curving up into a small smile. “Why, that’s quite the tie you’ve got on.”

“Yes, Y/n told me--” he stopped when he caught sight of the other men’s ties. Solid red, solid green, the most colorful ties might’ve had a stripe here or there, but they were nothing like the festive extravaganza Thomas had wrapped around his neck. 

Thomas looked from the plain red tie your father wore, down to his own tie, then over to you with wide eyes. You had to bring a hand over your mouth to cover your smile, but your eyes still glowed mischievously. 

George, Martha, and other relatives, including Alex and Lafayette, waited expectantly to see what Thomas would say next. 

He glanced over at you one more time before sighing in defeat. 

“It lights up,” he said, clicking the button on the tie. 

To their credit, George and Martha tried to smile politely. Alexander and Lafayette on the other hand did not share the same manners. 

“It lights up!” Alexander snickered, nudging Lafayette a little who joined in on the laughter. Martha shot the two of them a sharp look, and they attempted (but failed) to contain their laughter. 

Thomas turned to you with a smile, but his eyes looked menacing, and you knew you weren’t going to get out of this one. You returned a tight lipped smile.

“I’m going to go find Eliza,” you said, quickly slipping out of his grasp. 

Thomas would have followed after you, but George quickly wrapped an arm around his shoulder and led him over to the kitchen. 

“Thomas, you’ll have to forgive me for bringing work to the party, but I had a quick question for you about your latest case,” George said.

“George, don’t bother him!” Martha scolded. “I’m sure it can wait until Monday.”

“I promise it will only take a minute,” George smiled, closing the kitchen door behind them.

When the door was closed, George turned on Thomas, his smile slipping from his face. Thomas swallowed roughly at the quick change in demeanor and he felt himself begin to sweat. 

“How have you been, Thomas?” George asked, moving over to the oven to pull a large roast out. 

“Good. I’ve been good, sir. How have you been?” Thomas replied stiffly. 

“I’ve been well, thank you for asking.” George’s back was turned on Thomas, but Thomas could hear the steel in his voice. “Thomas, are you aware, that before I entered the private sector, I was a general in the United States Armed Forces?”

Thomas tugged at the ends of his sleeves nervously. “Yes, sir. Y/n mentioned it once or twice.”

“Good, good,” George nodded. With his hands in polka dotted oven mitts, he seemed a little less threatening, but George then shed the mitts and pulled a large knife out. Thomas nearly flinched. 

“I just thought you should know,” George continued, “that should anything ever happen to my daughter, I have the means and resources to make you... disappear. And I may or may not have some friends in high places that would be willing to look the other way.”

Thomas’s eyes and mouth were opened wide. “Sir, with all due respect, that seems, at least, just a little bit, illegal.”

George chuckled as he sliced into the roast, but the laughter was humorlessly. “It does, doesn’t it? So it’s a good thing this conversation never happened. Right, Thomas?”

“Right, sir.” Thomas hoped George couldn’t tell how terrified he was.

“I’ve enjoyed this conversation, Thomas. Now go back out there and tell my daughter that we just had a lovely bonding experience,” George instructed.

“Yes, sir.”

Thomas left the kitchen as quickly as humanly possible. Meanwhile, over by the 10 foot Christmas tree, you had found Eliza.

“I’m telling you, Y/n, that boy loves you. I can’t believe he was willing to wear that hideous tie for you,” Eliza giggled.

You couldn’t help but laugh yourself. “He was trying so hard to pretend like he liked it, too. I almost feel bad, but I’m sure he’s scheming how to get me back for this already.” 

“There you are, angel.” Thomas appeared at your side and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “It’s good to see you, Eliza,” he gave her a polite nod. 

“You as well, Thomas. I should probably make sure Alex isn’t getting into trouble. I’ll see you around, Y/n.” Eliza got up to leave, but glanced back once more. “Oh, nice tie, Thomas.”

Thomas glowered down at his tie, then looked back up to you. “We should talk.”

“Is this about the tie?” You asked. “It was just a harmless prank, Thomas.”

“No, no, we’ll discuss that later, I just--” he glanced at your younger cousins playing a few feet away and pulled you up out of the chair and over to a more private alcove. “Angel, I think your dad is trying to kill me.”

You cocked your head to the side and stared at him in confusion. “Thomas, what are you talking about?”

“He lead me into the kitchen and basically told me that he had the means to kill me should the occasion arise,” Thomas kept his voice low.

“That doesn’t sound like my dad.” You shook your head. “I can’t hear him saying that.”

“But he did!”

Your eyes traveled over to where George was now wearing a Santa hat and bouncing one of Lafayette’s toddlers on his knee. 

“You’re telling me that sweet old man over there threatened to kill you?” You asked in disbelief. 

Thomas followed your gaze and frowned when he saw George laughing merrily while he played with the child. “When you put it like that, I sound ridiculous.”

“You are ridiculous. Just enjoy the party, you don’t need to be so paranoid.” You shook your head grinning, reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Angel, I swear he--”

“Thomas, shh,” you hushed him and nodded upward, “look, mistletoe.”

Sure enough, above your heads was a little green spring of mistletoe. You pulled Thomas closer and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, and you finally felt him begin to relax. 

You pulled away and smiled. “Merry Christmas, Thomas.”

[chronologicalimplosion]

Probably preaching to the choir here amongst my followers, but I’ve just never heard this put this way before and I think it would’ve been extremely helpful for me to hear.

If you’re questioning your gender or sexuality or some other part of the social contract, but you’re not sure yet where you fit and you have some experience or opinion or desire for yourself that’s the exact opposite of the prevailing narrative from the community? You’re not alone. You don’t want strangers to ask you your pronouns, actually? Not alone. You’re thinking you might be a trans man but you still feel most comfortable dating and being in community with lesbians? Not alone. You don’t feel like you were “born” as the gender you now identify as? Not alone. Don’t want attention drawn to the body parts you’re dysphoric about via “people with penises/vaginas” language? Not alone.

I’m not saying anything, really, about what we should be advocating for as communities (although several of these examples are things that popular advocacy has rightly gotten more nuanced about with time). I just feel like I managed to talk myself first out of belonging to a community and then out of personally advocating for anything that I want for myself which isn’t universally wanted or respectable. Feel like I wasted time and brainpower on setting a “bad example” because what if the people I knew applied my yardstick to all the other trans people they meet who definitely won’t want any of the same things I want?

Most ways of interacting with people will cause some harm if applied universally across the board without any consideration of nuance or an individual’s wishes. If you want to be treated, talked to, talked about, etc a certain way, you’re not alone! There’s just no way you’re the only one! You speaking up about it will let other people who think they’re alone know that they’re not!

[dirt-cup-draco]

George x Reader- Day Off

Could I please request a post war George x Slytherin!reader where the reader always had a thing for George but never spoke to him because different houses. But she's in Diagon Alley and goes to his shop, and they have a moment and she asks him on a date? And just a lot of fluff. Thanks! @obsessedwithrandomthings

1993 You huffed, blowing a piece of your hair out of your eyes as you strolled down the wide hallway. Your hands were curled tight within the sleeves of your sweater as the chill of the dungeons began to get to you. You’d just come from your common room and you were hoping to steal some hot chocolate from the kitchens before anyone noticed your absence. 

It seemed luck wasn’t on your side as you were nearly knocked over by a slender redhead that you recognized all too well. “Watch it Weasley!” You hollered after him as you had to press your hand against the chilling stone wall. You scowled but when he stopped and looked at you, something in his bright eyes tugged hard at your heart. 

“Sorry ‘bout that,” He winked at you and you couldn’t fight the blush that spread onto your cheeks. All the while, the twin’s expression lit up and he glided over to you, long legs carrying him to his side far too quickly. 

“What’s a Slytherin doing out past curfew?” 

“I didn’t know it was any of your business,” 

“It’s not, but it might piss off the prefects headed this way,” 

At that moment you heard footsteps and voices drifting down the hall. You startled and grabbed the boy’s sleeve so he couldn’t run and leave you to deal with the fall out. “Get me out of this and then I’ll tell you,” 

He flashed you a grin, a strand of his longer hair falling down in front of his face and the inexplicable urge to tuck it behind his ear came over you. His eyes were chocolate covered amber and it gave him a constant aura of warmth that you couldn’t deny was helping you stay calm as your prefects drew closer. You’d be put through hell if they were to catch you slipping out. Again. 

“Hope you like running,”  

“Wha-”

And then the freckled boy you didn’t even know the name of (didn’t all weasleys look the same?) was dragging you away, letting his long legs carry the both of you further than you thought. His fingers were intertwined with yours and you squeezed tightly to keep up with him. You thought for a moment about how his hand completely engulfed yours. 

Your moment of wonderment was cut short by the boy stopping all of a sudden even as your legs still carried you forward until you slammed into his back with a small grunt. His hand tightened around yours to make sure that you remained upright. 

“S’pose we’re even then,” He mused with a smile you hadn’t seem fade since you’d first seen him. 

“Excuse me?” You huffed, brushing the front of your sweater down so the wrinkles faded. 

“I bumped into you, now you bump into me. We’re even,” He explained with an impish grin and you snorted.

“That was definitely your fault,” 

“Was it? If you hadn’t been so distracted by my clearly handsome features, you wouldn’t have bumped into me,” 

“Your back was to me, you don’t know what I was looking at,” You blushed, itching your nose with your sleeve to try and hide it. Thankfully, it was dark. 

The redhead only grinned and dropped your hand after you failed to let go first. It was then you realized that he had dragged you to just the place you needed to be. You smiled at the wonderful coincidence. “Thank you for helping me,” You spoke honestly as you both hovered outside of the kitchens. You stuck out your hand. “I’m Y/N”

“George,” He said, engulfing your hand once more to give two strong shakes before returning his hands to his pockets. “You going to tell me what you were up to then?”

“Nosy, aren’t we?” You teased. “I’ll tell you if you’ll join me for a cup of cocoa,” 

“Somehow I feel like you’re never going to tell me,” Yet, he followed. 

You sat on one of the counters, George directly across from you as he warmed his hands on the mug you’d given him. “I think I have a pretty easy guess about what you were planning on doing,” He smiled over the rim of his cup and you gave him a shy smile back. 

“Congratulations on not being completely daft, that’s rare for a gryffindor,” You poked fun. 

“Congratulations on not being incorrigible,  that’s rare for a slytherin,” He shot back and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. 

“You’re preaching to the choir,”

You fell into a peaceful silence, drinking the sweet drink and warming up from the cold night. The kitchens held a certain warmth that your house would never hold and it was why you often found yourself here after curfew. 

Then, a thought occurred to you. “You know why I’m out past curfew, but I don’t know why you are. Care to share?” With a long sip at your cocoa, you fixed George with a curious stare. He smiled and crossed his lengthy legs on the top of the counter, elbows on his knees and mug set to the side as he peered back at you. 

“Me and my twin, Fred- you’ve probably heard of us-” He winked and you snickered, rolling your eyes. “We were playing a prank on filch but we got interrupted halfway through and split up. He’s probably asleep by now, but I ran down to the dungeons and ran into you,” 

“You probably wish you were asleep like him,” 

George thought for a minute, eyes never leaving yours. “I don’t think so,” 

“Why’s that?” You asked and you cursed yourself for how breathy it came out. You took another swallow of your hot drink to cover up your blunder. 

“He didn’t get hot chocolate,” George pointed out. He didn’t get to meet a brilliant girl. Is what he wanted to say. 

George and you continued to talk until the sun began to rise, a dewy blue light flooded the kitchen. You rubbed your eyes and let out a yawn. “I should be going now,” 

“Nice meeting you,” George said honestly, stretching his back after it had been in an odd and cramped position all night. “See you ‘round I hope,” 

“I”m sure you will,” You smiled, swatting his hand when he ruffled your hair. 

And George did see you after that. But every time he looked your way your eyes darted anywhere else and when he approached, you bolted. Eventually, he gave up. He knew it was a bad idea fancying a Slytherin. 

--

1999

You let your feet guide you through diagon alley, pretending you didn’t have a particular destination in mind. Ollivanders Wand Shop and Potage’s Cauldron Shop passed you and you looked at them with a fondness in your heart. Eeylops Owl Emporium looked as it always did and you stared into the dimly lit windows to find that there were several owls staring back through the bars of their cages. Oh, how excited new students would be to get their very own owl once they began Hogwarts. 

You frowned. When would new students be able to roam the shops and experience what you and your peers had for the years that you had spent at Hogwarts? The battle had ended a year and five months ago and you were still reeling. 

The loss of your friends weighed heavily on you, as did the absence of your parents. They were wonderful, spoiled you silly as you grew up and loved you with more than they had to give. Unfortunately, they’d been on the wrong side of the war. Their fear of Voldemort kept them under his thumb and they hadn’t believed they’d make it out alive if they’d opposed him. 

They were in Azkaban now, despite your best efforts to get their case reviewed. It was a headache and it kept you up far later into the night than you needed to be. It was hard to not be able to see them. Admittedly, you didn’t do much else outside of working, trying to free them, and sleeping. Which was why you’d decided today, you would take a break. It was your day off and you ought to get out of your childhood home.

You were living there while your parents were away, you didn’t want them to come out of Azkaban having lost so much only to realize their home was no longer theirs. You could do this one thing for them, if nothing else. Being home had it’s own negatives. You were surrounded by too many memories, and without your parents there to reminisce it felt bleak and empty. 

In comparison, Diagon Alley looked like a dream. The streets weren’t as packed as you’d seen them before. You knew that people were still finding their way back to where they’d been before and you weren’t sure anyone would ever be the same but you hoped that they got there one day. 

Finally, you stalled in front of the most colorful shop there was. The stunning red around the windows stood out even more against the warm light that was glowing from the inside out. A caricature of the twin’s similar likeness was built into the frame of the building, the large hand pulling away a top hat to show a surprised mechanical rabbit. You couldn’t help but smile. 

It was something the Weasley twins were very good at. Their pranks and jokes, their fireworks and shenanigans, all brought smiles to the faces of those who feared they didn’t have anything to smile about anymore. It was a reminder of better times and a reason to create your own little slice of joy in bleaker days. 

The bell above the door jangled as you entered and your ears were filled with a buzzing and popping noise, some music playing throughout the bright store. Their shelves were still stocked to the brim. Some families were scattered throughout, a few couples holding hands as they looked at candies, a group of friends chased each other throughout. 

“Looking for anything specific?” Came a voice directly behind and you jumped out of your skin at the shock of it. 

“Freddie! How many times have I told you you can’t go scaring guests!” Came the voice you were hoping to hear as he momentarily popped his head from the shelf he was working on arranging neatly. It was much like Fred’s, but softer and smoother around the edges. Fred was large bangs and showy lights during a firework show, George was the smoke and memories that remained when there weren’t anymore to be lit. 

“Sorry-?” Fred offered, an apologetic yet playful look on his face. It took you another few seconds to realize he was asking for your name.

“Oh! Y/N,”You offered, cheeks pink.

Fred extended a hand and it was only then you noticed he had a can supporting him. You had heard he’d been gravely injured during the war and you told yourself that’s why you hadn’t visited the shop yet You shook his hand with a firm grip and your eyes went back to his. 

“Y/N?” George mimicked, head poking back out as he stared at your back. You had to suppress the shiver that went down your spine. 

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” You winked as you spun around to meet the boy you hadn’t been able to get out of your head for the past six years. One thing had changed. He was definitely not a boy anymore. 

In a moment you were gathered into a pair of strong arms and you were sure it had been all the quidditch he’d played during school. You grinned and squeezed him back. You weren’t surprised by the affection, it was something you had come to expect from George. Despite your many attempts to avoid him in case he saw how flustered you got in his presence, you’d been observing. He always had a grin on his face, always had his arm around someone’s shoulders. 

“It’s been-” 

“Six years,” You finished with a hefty sigh as he set you back down onto the floor. 

“You know each other?” Fred questioned, eyebrow quirked as his twin stared down at you with clear adoration.

“Uh yeah, she made me hot chocolate,” 

“He kept me from getting detention,” 

George smiled and ruffled your hair. “He did that too,” You tried to sound put out but you felt lighter than you had in months and it was solely because of his presence and the aura that filled the joke shop. 

“So are you looking for anything specific?” George repeated his brother’s question and you shrugged. 

“If I said you?” You mumbled, eyes quickly avoiding his as you picked at a loose thread on the end of your sweater. 

“I-I” George stammered trying to collect himself as Fred gave him a sly look before disappearing. “I’d be surprised, we didn’t talk much after that day... We didn’t talk at all actually. sort of thought you hated me.” 

“The opposite actually,” You blushed. “I just figured you wouldn’t be interested in talking to the odd slytherin girl... Got in my head about it and avoided you every chance I got,” 

“I like odd,” George shrugged.

You laughed softly as you looked around the shop. “I’m seeing that now,” 

“But I get what you mean, I eventually started avoiding you too. How do you tell the girl you talked to once that you fancied her?” George added and you paused. 

“You what?” 

George blushed now, the hue coloring his pale cheeks nicely and making his freckles stand out even more. “You were cute, you were funny. I had a good time talking and well Fred has always given me a bad time about falling too fast for someone,” 

“I’d be lying to you if I said that I didn’t feel the same way. There wasn’t anyone else I would rather be saved from detention by,” 

George smiled and reached out to play with the ends of your hair. “Is there a point to us dwelling in the past?” It wasn’t bitter, it was simply a question that needed to be answered. You’d held it in for too long and now that the world had settled down you were looking to do the same. Dating was hard, you hadn’t had much luck. It might be because every time you made a cup of cocoa you only wanted to share it with one person. 

“Um-” You became bashful. It had been so long, you had no clue if George was seeing anyone. You had hoped not, and his friendly greeting gave you hope but that was how he was with everyone. Had his feelings stayed in the past? “What if I say yes?” 

George smiled a bit more and twirled your hair around his finger. “Is there something you’re not saying Y/N?” You blushed a deeper shade, lips pursed as you pouted. George Weasley knew damn well what you were trying to get at. 

“Do you want to go on a date you git?” You finally decided on and George’s grin got impossibly wider as he let out a laugh that had the patrons staring. 

“What if I say yes?” He mimicked and you groaned. 

“Actually, I take it back! I forgot how difficult you could be” You turned to leave but George’s hand caught your own and you noticed for the first time that he was missing an ear. You hadn’t heard about him getting injured in the battle... Had it happened before? George coughed in embarrassment and you tore your eyes away.

“If you say yes,” You tried to recover. “Then I’d ask if you wanted to go to  Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour?”

“It’s September,” George pointed out.

“So that’s a yes?” You hoped for the best, seeing as he hadn’t said no immediately. 

“Freddie!” George called out and he got a muffled shout in response. “I’m going on my lunch break,” 

“Wait, now!?” You sputtered as George held your hand and let you out of the door. 

“We wasted six years, why waste more time?” He had a good point. 

You squeezed his hand back and followed. Your day off turned out to be much better than you’d hoped.