#this is the problem with trying to condense more than a years of ideas into one cohesive narrative. i usually swap and change things as

[arsenicflame]

hey does anyone wanna bounce bellhands/they all went to pirate school together ideas with me? im trying to figure out the missing pieces of my personal set up and it might be easier with someone else!

[bia-wayne-west]

Pregnancy — Barry Allen x Reader

Characters: Barry Allen (The Flash), Reader (You).

Synopsis: You have been married to Barry for two years. One fine day, you start to feel a hunger worthy of a little speedster.

Warnings: Pregnancy, seasickness, pregnancy discovery

N / A: I did this imagine in 10 minutes. I watched a pregnancy movie with my cousin, and then we went to watch The Flash, she suggested the idea to me and I loved it. Hope you like it.

I'm a Latina girl who doesn't speak fluent English, so I want to apologize for any writing errors you find. Feel free to correct me.

MASTERLIST

The day had begun. The sun came through the window, causing you to curl up even more in the duvets.

You ran your hand over the bed, feeling the sheet to feel Allen's warm body. There was only an empty space, indicating that he had been awake for some time.

Your mind tried to sleep again, however, a sweet smell flooded his nostrils. You could have sworn it smelled like pancakes and condensed milk.

The sheets were set aside as his feet touched the ground. With delicate steps, you made your way to the kitchen, being guided by the wonderful smell. You had no intention of surprising Barry, as he could see everything happening in slow motion and could easily see you approaching.

 Allen held a frying pan, trying to flip a pancake. On the kitchen counter was a stack of pancakes and two coffee cups of Jitters.

With a smile on your face, you approached your husband, placing your hand on the speedster's shoulder. Barry's face lit up, showing a sweet smile.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, my dear.”

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“You always make coffee, I decided to make it for you today.” Allen placed the last finished pancake on the plate, enjoying the view of what he had just prepared. “Are you hungry?”

“I think I could devour a whole cow.” Your stomach churned, complaining of hunger.

 You usually didn't eat much, unlike your husband. Barry had to consume at least fifteen thousand calories daily, so he could stay upright and healthy. He literally ate all day and kept him body skinny.

Unlike you, who hardly felt hungry. You were the perfect couple. When you couldn't finish your snack, Allen was able to eat everything and still had plenty of room in his stomach. A few weeks ago, you began to feel extraordinarily hungry.

 You ate almost the same amount of food as Barry. It seemed like you were a speedster, too. Her sense of smell could sense food being prepared in other rooms, as well as feeling terrible nausea and dizziness. You thought it was vitamin’s problem, and you bought some to make yourself feel better.

 Within seconds, the breakfast table was fully set. Without much ceremony, you joined your husband to enjoy their morning meal.

“I could have sworn you have hypermetabolism too.” He joked when he saw you steal a pancake from him after eating yours.

“I don't know what happened. It feels like I'm eating for an army.” You verbalized, picking up the dishes to wash them. As soon as your hand placed the last glass in the sink, a horrible sensation gripped your entire body. You ran to the bathroom, feeling a terrible urge to vomit. Your body leaned over the toilet as the breakfast was poured out.

In less than a second, Barry appeared at your side, his face full of concern. One hand held your hair, while the other smoothed your back.

 “Are you okay?”

“I am. I think I ate more than my stomach can handle.”

“Let Caitlin examine you.”

“I told you I'm fine, dear.” You got up with Barry's help. Along the way, you felt your vision darken and your body vibrate, as if you were a speedster. “I think going to see Caitlin is a good idea.”

 (…)

“I have two new features.” Caitlin said, as soon as she finished examining your blood. “A good one and a bad one, depending on one's point of view.”

“What's the good news?” Barry asked. Cisco, Joe, Barry, and you were waiting in the exam room. Caitlin held a sheet of paper with the results of your exams.

“You're pregnant.”

 Your world spun. Your chest collapsed with happiness. A year ago, you and Barry were planning to have a child, but you never had any luck.

Allen took your hand. The speedster's face was flooded with a smile. Everyone in the room was happy with the news of yet another person being added to Team Flash.

“And what's the bad news?” You asked.

“Very well.” She seemed to be looking for the right words. “I did an ultrasound, and it looks like the baby's heart has stopped.”

“You mean he's dead?”

Everyone in the room asked at once. Tears had already appeared in your eyes, you had barely gotten used to the idea of being a mother, and your little Allen was no longer with you.

“Theoretically, yes.”

“Explain it properly.” You demanded.

“When Barry was struck by lightning, his heart stopped several times. Doctors believed he had died because the machines couldn't record his heartbeat.” She explained. “But his heart had never stopped, what happened is that he was so fast that not even the machines could keep up.”

“So your theory is that the baby is like Barry?” Cisco chimed in. His face was in an expression it was always when he was thinking. “My God, that completely explains your extraordinary hunger and why you started vibrating like a speedster.”

“Our son is also fast.” Allen said, grinning from ear to ear. He deposited a beak on your lips, still holding your hand.

 Ten years later…

 You've finished setting the lunch table. The dish of the day was pasta with broccoli and cheese. Benjamin Allen's favorite meal.

After putting the last dish on the table, you called your child. Benjamin quickly descended using his powers.

The wind caused by your little one's speed left one of the glasses on the table unbalanced. Before Ben had a chance to catch him, another speedster came in front of him. Barry put the glass right where it was before, and went to meet him.

The brunette wrapped his arms around his body and pressed a sweet kiss to her neck. A laugh escaped his throat as he saw his son utter an exclamation of disgust.

“Please, your son is here watching you be completely disgusting. Ben said, sitting in the chair.

Benjamin has the same hair color as yours, but he had the same green eyes as his father. Everyone who saw him always said the same thing, that he was a faithful copy of Barry Allen.

 He and your husband were the guardians of Central City. The little one has not yet obtained all of his father's abilities, but he has the super speed and the ability to vibrate his body and molecules.

 In the middle of lunch, you smiled when you saw the size of your child's plate, which was three times larger than yours. That scene reminded him of something.

“Ben, would you like to hear the story of the day I found out I was pregnant?”

[fuzzybirdie]

This work was fully inspired by the following prompt/post and @freedomanddisorder 's amazing art, please! Check out both!

~~~

Ch.1 A Vacation To Gotham! What Could Go Wrong? (Pt1)

It had been 1 year scince Danny's accident, and 1 year since his parent's masterpiece miraculously started working. In celebration, danny's parents decided to take a holiday to gotham. Mostly to look at the bats, who were obviously ghosts. Just look at signal! Litterally creating ghost orbs. But, as the bats only come out at night (excluding signal) there nothing to do during the day. Nothing exept the mundane things like amusement parks and fast food restraunts.

Danny could tell that his parents were bored and upset that they couldn't interview any bats, (and boy, was danny glad that they'd chilled out after a year of actually interacting with ghosts) but they were still trying to make things fun for themselves too.

The Fentons had split up near the enterance, agreeing to meet up at the food stalls arround 1 for lunch. His parents went to the haunted house - ever reasearching, Jazz would wonder arround for a bit before deciding on her rides, while Danny went right for the roller coasters.

On the way, Danny had an idea; his parents were on the other side of the park, so they wouldn't question him if his hair and eyes suddenly changed colour, and he had been meaning to experiment with looking more alive in ghost form...Ducking into a bathroom, he started transforming. Slowly, Carefully, not touching the clothes, there. Finished, he looked at the miror to find- "I look like a ghost in a tee and jeans."-his skin still had the green tint from the ectoplasam in his veins, and his hair was steaming like dry ice.

The hair was more obviously inhuman, so he tackled that first. It would need to be solid, condensed, thicker and thicker, -too thick!

What once was steam now looked like a plain old block of ice. Maybe, his hair being made of ice would be fine if he seperated it a bit? If he peeled each layer into tiny little strings luke normal hair. Little by little, piece by piece, perfect. The ice string hair was curlier than he'd thought, waves of snow tickling his ears, eyebrows and the back of his neck.

The next problem was the green tint. This would take some thinking. He couldn't just pretend to be cosplaying a Vulcan from star trek. Could he turn his ectoplasam back into blood? Probably not, either he'd end up 'suffocating' (if that was even the right word) as a ghost or just turn back into a human and need to do this all over again.

Veto'd, too dangerous.

Thinking back, didn't frostbite say there was something odd with his ectoplasam and blood? Thats right! There were slight ammounts of ectoplasam in his blood and vice versa. If he could manipulate his remaining blood into the capillaries along the surface of his skin, it'd look like he still had a beating heart!...

Ok, that sounded bad even in his mind.

Shaking off that thought, he pushed his blood to his skin and checked the mirror one last time. Normal teen with white hair? Check. Now, Roller Coaster!

~~~

This is the first! || next

Thanks for reading! Unfortunately, I had to cut this in half. (Curse the word limit!) When I have time to post part 2 I'll link it down here. If the links work... Anyways! Please tell me if there's anything I can improve! Last time I posted something was back in... 2016? So i'm very out of practice

[scientia-rex]

Long ask. I didn't see that you had answered anything similar.

How do I do activism? Yes, I could Google it, but I would rather learn from a stranger with claimed yet unverifiable experience on Tumblr than from a stranger with claimed yet unverifiable experience anywhere else, and I'm here and so are you and we can talk and have a [para]social interaction. I won't bore you with a condensed autobiography, but I have a lot of experience fixing mistakes, not unlike being a physician, but far less noble, what David Graber would call a "duct-taper". It's partly what led me to socialism. I fixed mistakes but could not fix the root causes and, when I investigated those causes, I ran into structure. I couldn't explain the human behavior I witnessed as human nature, because it wasn't my nature and, as far as I know, I'm human, so the only explanation I could come up with was that the structure of the company I worked for created the problems I was trying to solve, and I had no power to change that structure, and no desire to join the psychopaths failing up the corporate ladder. I expanded my thinking outward and saw the problem inherent in capitalism and all the associated -isms and -archies, all the while trying to figure out what I could do that could possibly change any of it. I dove into progressive politics, read theory, consumed all the lefty content I could find, and thought, and keep running into the same problems. But even if the root causes cannot be addressed, the effects still need to be, because the effects are people, hence activism.

How do I talk to congresspeople? I email them about issues, but am frankly afraid to call them. Shall I get voice mail, or does a person pick up? If the latter, I'm assuming it will be a secretary. I don't want to be mean to a person answering phones. I've been one of those people getting yelled at or threatened because of events I did not cause and could not possibly prevent or change and, maybe I'm oversensitive or have PTSD or just a hyperactive amygdala, but I cannot overstate the damage those negative experiences cause. Sure, in the grand scheme of things, the lives that can be saved or improved outweigh a few people's hurt feelings or possible psychological trauma, but I would prefer not to turn this into a trolley problem if at all possible. Maybe it's a stupid question. Maybe I'm overthinking it. I can be charming and I have no lack of empathy; I can politely disagree. Shall I have to argue with anyone? Or is it a thank-you-for-your-participation-I-will-tell-the-congressperson-have-a-nice-day situation?

How do I get a job doing good things for people? This is somewhat pressing as I quit my corporate job five years ago, to have what turned out to be a midlife crisis, and have been living off savings (that are running out) ever since. I want to help and don't want to be ashamed of what I do for a living. I've always been able to do anything I've ever tried to do, but I'm 45 with little formal education or qualifications, and am thinking it's maybe too late to go back to school. Most of the non-profits I see seem like little more than scams. And perhaps the most serious complication: I'm a loner, more out of habit than inclination. I'll spare you the background, but I have no connections and no idea how to make them, and I don't believe I have any particular skills so valuable that should confer an immediate advantage or demand for my labor, but then again I don't know what is in demand.

It's OK if you can't answer some of these things. I simply have no one to talk to about them who can give any actual advice and figured you might. Thanks.

How to do activism: The first thing you need to know is your axe to grind. It was easy for me. I've been out since I was 13, nobody ever believes a girl is bisexual, it's always "you want attention" or "you're secretly a lesbian." That was in 1997. I went through hell and I'm bitter about it. So when I realized I liked medicine, I realized I could turn my life into an extended revenge arc by moving home and telling everybody it's OK to be gay. Two birds, one stone. I work with a woman who didn't get her axe to grind until about three years ago. She realized she was fed up with people abandoning dogs. She's one of the most active volunteers at the local shelter now. She's saved a lot of dogs' lives. She didn't start out knowing anything about it, but she told the shelter she wanted to volunteer, and they've helped her grow through the rest of it. My husband works with the local food bank, because his mom's neighbor (who is a family friend and sweetheart) wrangled him in to serving on the board, so now in addition to board meetings once a month he goes in sometimes to do things like help his mom's friend unload trucks. Sometimes the cause picks you, sometimes you pick the cause, sometimes you are the cause. And no matter what the cause is, someone else is already working on it. Someone else already cares deeply and if you show up ready to be hands on and help out, with humility because you know that you don't know everything, they will help you learn how to be effective. I started out in medicine by volunteering at the emergency room near where I lived. I pushed a linen cart around and restocked gowns in rooms, and when I couldn't fit any more washcloths into drawers I cleaned doorknobs. One of the nurses once told me she really appreciated that I cleaned all the doorknobs, because it wasn't getting regularly done. I am in medicine now because of many, many people I asked for help and who helped me because they wanted to contribute to justice and equity in medicine, whether for queers or rural people or women. This is, and has always been, a combined effort. Alone we beg, together we bargain.

Calling elected representatives: Oh god I know, me too, calling strangers is the LITERAL WORST. I'm 40 and I'd rather pepper-spray myself than argue with a human on the phone. Wait until after hours and you'll get a voicemail. I like to leave voicemails that start with "My name is Dr. Rex, I'm a constituent of yours, and I VOTE, and I'm calling about ____." That's honestly about all it takes--when I was hanging out with the lobbyist she told me they keep lists with tick-marks for how many calls, emails, etc., they get on a topic. Calls count for more. The more effort you have to put in, the more engaged they know you are. So call, but if people scare you (and the people who pick up are almost always nice, if you do get a person, and they will 99/100 times say "thank you for your call, we will pass your concerns along to so-and-so"), call at night.

Going back to school is probably unnecessary. Spin your past experience aggressively and start applying to nonprofits. (You "took time off from the working world in order to sharpen your focus on what matters most to you," which will be whatever this particular group does.) It's OK if you pick a bad one to start with; most of them are shit-shows, and lots of them still accomplish good things. Nonprofits are a bloodbath when it comes to actually being an employee--they know that part of the compensation is the sense of living ethically and they will use your altruism against you--so keep your resume updated and be prepared to bail if grant funding doesn't come through, but most areas have food banks and pet shelters and human shelters and jails and medical clinics and hospitals (for every doctor who works at the local hospital there are at least 10 support staff by the numbers, and they are utterly critical and always under-staffed). Sometimes if you start by volunteering somewhere, once they realize you're dependable, you can get a job there. I am zero percent kidding about working for a hospital, clinic, or jail, by the way. Those are places I know well, and there are always civilian jobs available. You want to make a patient's day better? Be the front desk, front line staff who use the right pronouns and cheer them up.

I think it's completely reasonable to have procedural questions about how all of this works, and I am grateful to you for giving me a chance to talk about it a bit. Please feel free to ask any follow-up questions. And for reference, when I was just starting out in research at a time when the market for research-trained people frankly sucked, I applied well over 300 times and got well over 300 rejections (I was counting) before I ended up with a job that I loved (even though it was hellishly stressful and I made just barely more than minimum wage for working well over my alleged, salaried "hours") and felt like I was making a positive difference for the world with. And from there, I kept making changes as I realized what I wanted and needed. Just keep doing it. You don't have to feel good about every step, you don't have to know what you're doing, just keep putting one foot in front of the other as you try to figure out what will make you happy. Because nothing else is a good proxy for happiness, and happiness, for a whole lot of humans, means finding something meaningful to do in life. Helping others. Be okay with changing, be okay with sacrificing who you are right now for the sake of who you can become. You've survived four decades on this bizarre and cruel planet, and you have inherent, intrinsic worth as a human being. You deserve your own kindness.

[jolalibrary]

i. say what you want

javier peña x f!reader | chapter one of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: fluff. romcom vibes. an: i really wanted to write actual 00s text talk, but it broke my brain and made it hard to edit so, forgive me. pls imagine all the cul8r and yw's. massive thank you to @guyfieriii for convincing me to write the idea i hammered on about and holding my hand as i do. wordcount: 2.5k.

read the prologue

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

Boredom flitters through him, trickling down his bones in the same way a bead of condensation drips down his beer.

His eyes track it, watching it land in the pool on the worn, splintered porch table. 

He was tired, drained. Fingers and thumb working his forehead as the other taps an unknown beat against the arm of the chair: a habit, a routine. 

Javi didn’t follow his Pop to the television or the tavern. He seated himself out here, taking in the fields—both the new and recently fixed fences that kept the livestock alive and merry. 

It hadn’t always been his thing, just more so since he began sleeping a bit better—having found it easier to switch off one night when he sat out here. The day slowly rolled from his shoulders with each brush of the warm breeze, each muscle trying to unknot with a rustle of the trees. 

That and it gave him privacy in learning how to use his new phone. 

The one bought with the intention of not needing to stand hovered near the kitchen on the landline whenever Steve insisted on checking in on him. 

He was the only one with the number—outside of his Pop. The option to hand it to others when he felt like it, he’d been told. Mainly, Javi had strongly suspected it was pandering to an alternative way for Steve to bother him about how happy he was, and how Miami would be good for him for a week or two.  

Now someone else had it. 

Someone unknown. Who wrote with a speed he couldn’t emulate, watching a reply fly back before he’d even wrapped his head around what was happening. All black letters standing out against green—

Truthfully, if not for how panicked and stressed they had sounded, he would have ignored it. Later, even deleted it (once he’d figured out how). 

But, because he couldn’t, it goaded him. 

His thumb slid his phone on, staring at it—the small, ridiculous exchange. It torments him in a way that unfurls something with him. 

Curiosity, mainly. A need to know more. 

Wrapping his fingers, he takes a mouthful of his beer. Continuing to clutch the neck of it, resting it on his knee. Staring at the lit screen on the table, his thumb and index pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes closing—shutting out the way the evening sun waves goodbye to the day. 

It’s easy to force himself to forget about the throbbing in his palm from fixing another fence panel—and the simmering prickling after he saw a small boat pass. It’s harder to ignore it. 

The phone on the table, the one he lands on as he cracks open his eye, the one he can’t pick up and just see—ask. 

It’s always been a problem, his need to close the lid on something. The not knowing pecking in the back of his head all day, if not—had done since he was little, led to him gaining even more invisible scars from Colombia. 

But it’s also what had made him good. 

Even if, for all his success and accolades, he was alone on a Thursday night. Sat on the porch he’d grown up on—his own father even has plans. 

He shouldn’t text. He should delete the number like he was asked to—forget all about the random stranger and their date. 

how’d your date go

Truthfully, Javi regrets it the moment he sends it. The moment the sound registers in his ear—sound simmering to nothing before it drenches him. 

Bouncing his leg, he coats his throat in more of his beer. Swallowing it back quicker than he’s found, he can even text. Rolling his phone, swirling it between finger and thumb as he stares across the land—listening to the evening sweep over, the cicadas waking up, the rustle of the breeze in the trees.

Why are you texting me? I’m intrigued

He keeps it short. Sweet. 

It allows for quickness, pressing send and for his fingers to go back to flexing, needing to tap.

A sudden desperation on the tip of his tongue—nose itching for the scent of burning papers and tobacco leaves. Instead, pressing the button on his phone, seeing if he’s missed a text, or a reply.

Even if he’s been holding it the entire time, knowing he would have felt the vibration through the pads of his fingers down to his wrist. 

His stomach slowly slides, uncomfortably dropping to his feet with a thud. Regret washes over, the itch growing more intensely as the hunger for a smoke increases. Wishing he hadn’t given them up a year ago—hadn’t tried to kick the habit to appease his pop. Wishing he hadn’t been able to do so successfully, so he could light one now without feeling culpability. 

Mountains of regrets begin to pile all over again. Little ones. Adding up into bigger—

They didn’t show. Happy?

He pauses. 

His stomach drops another inch. Happiness is the last thing he feels. 

Grabbing the beer from the table as he takes a sip, more graceful—less through a need to busy himself and more for courage. Hand clutching his phone, the green-lit screen standing out as the chirping croon around him. 

shit, I’m sorry about that We can stop texting now. What if I said I didn’t want to I’d wonder if you’re bored or lonely.

That makes him smirk. It cuts across his face, paints over the day's aches, the text slicing through the day's misfortune. 

Ones such as the stares when he went to the hardware shop—even if he’s been back for a while; the gossip that he could hear in thick whispers on the aisle over—as though they weren’t all used to him being home. 

All of it vanishes. All because of a quick-witted text. 

can a man who has moved back in with his pops at 30-something years old be both  Overachiever that’s what I hear Should tell you, I'm not going to tell you what I’m wearing. Last night was a rarity, not a common occurrence.

He takes another sip, licking his bottom lip, shifting in his chair. His fingers slowly press buttons—but the blinking line swallows them all, thumb hammering to delete. 

This should be easy—talking to a woman. 

Javi has never usually had this problem. But, then, his tongue has typically said the words his brain has thought up. Now he has to type them, allowing him to linger on them—especially with how slow he is, and how quick you are. 

it’s not the underwear that had me coming back to text you, it was you

Oh. So you’re a charmer.  Not sure it’s the usual word women call me, but I’ll take it  Because you’re bored and lonely. 

He snorts, if only to himself. 

The stars slowly twinkle, shining above him as he mumbles, “fuck”. Staring out into the nothingness, suddenly feeling not quite as empty as he had done when he first woke. 

yeah because I’m bored and fucking lonely, hermosa

I shouldn’t text you. 

probably a wise choice

Yet I am. 

And I kinda want to. 

you like talking to bored and lonely men? 

Not usually. But you do seem charming. 

it’s a gift

Since we skipped pleasantries and jumped straight into my underwear choice, do you have a name?

I do

Hilarious.

it’s Javi. 

Okay, Javi who lives with his dad—how’s your evening?

Is it an appropriate response to a bad day to drink two bottles of wine?

depends on the day

It was real shitty.

then drink away, hermosa. you ok

I will be. 

Not because of the wine. Because I’m out of town tomorrow so I don’t have to deal with the person tomorrow. 

colleague giving you shit?

I think it may be his life's purpose to make my day as shitty as it can be. 

I can relate 

Worked with an asshole or two in your time, Javi? 

most definitely. one day I may even tell you about one named bill

I look forward to it. 

Guess from that comment you don’t mind that we’re still talking?

not even a little bit

is it weird to ask you how your day has gone? 

You bored again, charmer? 

just taking an interest 

It’s fine, hotel food kinda sucks, so I’m tucking into some chips and dip. 

they at least good, the chips and dip? 

Oh, I only buy the good kind. I don’t cheap out on dip. 

I never asked, did you ever find Aish’s number? 

Yes. One digit, that was all between you and her. 

Also, she finds the entire thing hilarious. Because, of course, she does. 

I think if this happened to Steve, I’d find it funny too 

Steve your friend or? 

wouldnt you like to know 

A girl is just trying to make a conversation

he’s a friend from my old job

You see him much? 

no. you see Aish much? 

Not as much as I’d like. But, more my fault, I travel a lot for work. 

I see. what kind of dip you got? 

If I tell you, I fear you’d know too much 

that a bad thing, hermosa 

Well, a girl can’t so easily let you know her weakness, Javi. 

He used to hate the rain. 

Despised the smell that lingered after a good fall, how it trapped him in or soaked him to his bones if he ran through it. 

Now, he finds it pleasant—watching it fall in waves of mist that cools the air and hammers itself into the ground. The sound of the television flutters from the living room to his ear, merging with the tapping of his pencil against the newspaper—his eyes busy fixated on watching the heavens open amongst the ranch. Drenching, washing away bits and pieces it can. 

If someone had told him he’d have gotten into crosswords back in Colombia, he’d have thrown the paper at them. 

Now though, it was therapeutic. A mystery with no significant risks, no real need to finish it—but he never left it half-done all the same. 

Guess who tried to rearrange the date. you told him no, right I told him to fuck off, actually. 

Javi laughs. 

It escapes quickly, dancing right past his bottom lip—before he mutes it. He clasps his lips around it, swallowing it back before his pop asks him what he finds so funny. 

Pushing the newspaper away, the pencil rolls and rolls until it collides with the wall, his fingers circling over the keys, thinking—processing. 

Sometimes a response to you comes with ease; others, he finds he thinks more carefully. Each message he wants to be considered, intentional. An ember having ignited in his chest, not sure what it meant—why it was there—but not wanting to give it any reason to have it stuffed out. 

as a minimum you deserve someone who tells you they can’t make it on the actual night  Charmer.  bare minimum, hermosa I know what that word means now, btw.  btw? By the way. It’s quicker than repeatedly clicking buttons.  I don’t think I asked, what do you do? 

Stroking his fingers across the hair above his lip, he pauses. 

Biting down on the inside of his mouth, a pang of regret flooded him. 

At times, it comes in waves. Washing over him when he thinks of what he used to do, what he’s good at—compared to what he does now. 

Biting the inside of his mouth, Javi lifts his eyes to watch a droplet falling down the pane of glass—trailing a path, merging with others until it creates a blow on the sill. 

He likes being home—has to remind himself that he does too. 

Especially when his muscles ache, new cuts on top of other ones—crosswords and occasional beers being the excitement he now comes to expect. 

Sighing, it’s swallowed by the show in the other room and the rain falling heavier—spotting, in the distance, the cows lying down, one by one. 

you want to know a lot for saying you wanted me to delete your number btw to answer your question I work on the ranch my family owns  A rancher? Good to know you’re good with your hands.  That sounded more flirtatious than I meant. I don’t mind.  And just so you know, hermosa. I am. 

He wipes his thumb across his smile, foot tapping on the wooden floor, staring at the screen. 

It's happened before, the edge of flirting. The two of you step towards it before one of you pulls back. 

His heart thumps in his chest, fingers flexing on the table—so used to the hue of green now, it’s all he sees when he blinks. The vibration his phone makes registered in his bones, his body trying to convince him he’s felt it as he waits. 

It’s cruel. The way seconds turn into minutes. 

His phone screen dulls before he relights it. 

I don’t even know what to say to that.  well are you good with your hands I’m a quicker typer than you, so I think that’s a given. 

He smirks, it cuts into his cheeks—shaking his head in disarray as he leans back in the chair. It protests. Practically cringes under the new movement. 

Like much of the house, the years have done a number on it. So much of it all the same from when he was growing up—just fixed, repainted, repurposed. 

At first, he’d found it hard to be surrounded by it. Almost swallowed by memories—both the good and the bad. 

Now, he just thinks it’s paused, frozen in time. Sometimes, a tired mind even lets him believe his Ma could turn the corner, asking him if he’ll bike to get her flour.  

I was DEA in Colombia. it’s how I met Steve  I can imagine with all of the news coming out of there, that would have been hard.  Something like that  My first job was in my dad’s tool shop. I wasn’t very good at it.

Rolling his head to rest on his shoulder, he reads your message a few times. 

The change in conversation was appreciated, not that he’ll voice it. He briefly wonders if it’s a tactical choice or accidental. 

Hoping it’s the former as he takes in each letter, each word—fingers teasing his chin, rereading as he imagines an outline of a person sitting somewhere, curled in. Just like he is. 

Maybe staring down, waiting for his reply, like he waits for yours. 

A break from the mundane, a pleasantry in a sea of normalcy. 

Something he wants to protect—hoping you do too. 

How come?  Apparently, continuously mixing up tools isn’t good for customers—even if my dad was impressed with our profit increase.

49 down is slither

What’s the clue again?

skeleton section

You do this every day? 

I try 

yes okay I do 

It’s ribcage, Javi.

you hermosa are brilliant 

Glad you’ve caught on, charmer. 

I think you’re just finding a reason to talk to me, because that one was easy. 

I don’t need a crossword to find ways to talk to you

No? 

no, there’s lots I don’t know about you 

I’m not that interesting. I promise 

I doubt that. 

Favorite way to start your day? 

Wouldn’t you like to know? 

an: anyone grinning as much as me...

next chapter ->

[floaties-for-arsene]

wake up babe ryomina swap au just dropped

more context below hehe :)

I’m gonna try to not go too crazy explaining the AU, so here’s my attempt at a “condensed” outline of the AU!

So the story of Persona 3 happens normally.. up until Ryoji’s revelation. After Ryoji explains the Fall to SEES and presents them with the option to kill him, Minato is insistent that there has to be another way. Eventually he settles on the idea of removing Ryoji’s status as the harbinger of the Fall, and to do so, make Ryoji human.. the problem is, in this act, Ryoji’s powers would transfer to Minato. Hence the swap part of the AU :)

At first everyone is really hesitant about this, especially Ryoji; he’d much rather put himself at risk than Minato. But he persists and eventually the team agrees to trust him. Ryoji and Minato relentlessly plan to ensure that things go as well as they can. On New Year’s, Ryoji initiates a sort of sharing of powers between the two; since the two exist within each other, I’m really leaning into their out of body connection for this.. if that makes any sense. When the swap happens, Minato disappears, and Ryoji blacks out.

When Ryoji recovers, SEES seeks out Minato in the Dark Hour. Ryoji is distressed that he can no longer sense Minato’s presence and begins to worry that things went terribly wrong. Ryoji is still weak and it’s soon apparent that he’s unable to summon a persona… and being in such danger, as well as being separated from Minato and dealing with a potential massive failure to protect someone so dear to him, he begins an existential crisis. This conflict eventually leads to Ryoji’s awakening, accepting his mortality and strengthening his resolve to fulfill his end of the plan and have faith in Minato… and when Ryoji awakens to his persona, he feels a familiar, comforting presence :)

So tldr, Minato becomes Ryoji’s persona, and the team work to beat Nyx after taking away her little pawn. I have waaaayyy more I could write about the rest of the AU and I even have epilogue stuff planned but I’ve already rambled enough and I mostly just wanted to put these designs out here since I’m super proud of them lol

[wutheringmights]

Thank your for the chapter. This is me submitting my request for director's commentary.

Sorry this is very late.

But, you know.

*gestures wildly at the state of the world*

This is the first chapter in a long time where I was actively having fun writing more than 30% of it. Writing doesn’t always have to be “fun” for me to write it, but spending most of this year stuck on two chapters I absolutely hated did a number on me. 

I still didn’t get to everything I wanted in this chapter; I have been trying to get to the fallout for the Knights of Hyrule encounter for most of this year now (jfc!), but I’ve had to expand the plot points leading up to it. This entire Castle Town arc was planned to be one chapter. Past Frankie was insane for thinking that was possible. 

Pacing-wise, this chapter really did need to be on its own. The important plot points needed their own space to breathe; trying to shove all of this and the contents of the next chapter into one would have led to a lot of things being overshadowed. So even though everything is still moving along relatively slowly, the pacing is somewhat on purpose this time. 

As previously stated on this blog, I sorely neglected updating AO3 with the new chapter total. There is 6 chapters left (5 plot chapters, then an epilogue). Rest easy. This story will take me a while longer yet to complete. 

That being said, don’t be too surprised if I keep budgeting in more chapters. But if this story needs more than 40 chapters, I will abscond from society and become a sheep herder in, like, Iceland.  

(Sorry to front-load the housekeeping information; I usually keep this stuff for the end,  all of this provides context for my first bit about the actual chapter.) 

I am so happy that pre-heart connection stuff with Proxi got its own chapter, as opposed to being included with the post-connection drama of how Link starts clawing his way out of his depression. 

I mentioned last chapter that everything with the first Proxi meeting was an utter failure to me. While this chapter doesn’t erase the problems of the former, it nonetheless is an improvement and more in-line with how I wanted this Proxi storyline to go. 

Link’s depression baths is 100% me projecting-- I had a season of my life where everything in my life kinda fell apart and I became extremely depressed and anxious. One of my coping mechanisms was to constantly take showers. Like Link, I got up to around four showers a day before I was told to knock it off for the sake of the water bill. 

Depression causing a lack of hygiene and self-care is fairly well-represented in media at this point. I relate way more to depression causing a spurt of “good” habits (that are just maladaptive coping mechanisms in their own right) more, and I want to include more of them into my writing. Link seems like the kind of guy who would overcompensate like that too. 

The events of the chapter were condensed from my original vision. The party and the fireworks were going to be two separate incidents, but I wanted to cut down on the bulk of writing each chapter requires of me (more on this later). Luckily, the original idea for the fireworks also included celebrating a holiday (New Years), so the change was easy to pull off. 

I did lose an aspect of that scene I really liked though: Link knowing he was experiencing a trigger deciding to hide in his cellar, all the while congratulating himself for reacting normally while Proxi is like hiding in a cellar isn’t coping, Link!!!!

Fireworks being a trigger is a bit of a cliche, and a part of me really wishes I found something more unique to trigger Link with. But fireworks is a really effective shorthand, partly because it’s so prevalent in real life, and partly because contrasting a celebratory activity with war trauma is so evocative. 

It’s also very silly how significant events in Link’s life keep coinciding with holidays and birthdays. I want to acknowledge both for the sake of world building, but going through the effort of developing them is only worth it if there’s a plot point attached.

But who hasn’t had moments of great revelations while at the family Thanksgiving party?

I like the idea of various holidays/feasts in Hyrule having different levels of importance depending on your tribe or what region you live in, as well as them being celebrated differently depending on your culture. 

Both the Sheikah and the Hylians would place heavy significance on the feast since Hylia is one of their main goddesses, but they would be celebrated differently. I brushed a bit on the idea of the religious ceremonies being different, but I cut back on sharing more of my ideas for the specific celebrations. 

Very specifically, I wanted the Sheikah to have a tradition of performing theatrical plays of significant cultural moments (basically a kabuki-theater version of a nativity play) (can you tell I was raised catholic?). 

I have plans to do something involving a kabuki play next chapter, so I won’t elaborate more on what the play was supposed to be. However, the play did get cut because I planted Link in the banquet hall with no care to move him from that spot. 

I like the idea of moms who are flawed moms in really normal ways. The way Ayane’s mother is very sweet to Link while having these rigid standards for Ayane is very real to life, in part because it’s based on how a lot of mothers I know act to their child’s friends versus their actual child. 

In a similar vein, I’m also fascinated by mothers who fail their children in such specific ways that it would only be a failure to their child-- like a mother giving too much independence to a child who needs more help, etc. That’s my design for these slow (and hopefully subtle) reveals of how Link struggles with his mother’s memory. On one hand, it’s obvious that he was made to feel like a failure of a child, and he probably knows that was wrong of her. On the other, she was a good parent overall and she’s dead. If you have never experienced that particular cocktail of guilt, let me just say that it messes you up. 

The kids who were doing the snowball fight are Ayane’s friends, which is why one of them remarked that Link was going to yell at them again (see: when Link yelled at Ayane the first time he picked her up from school). Katsuki is the only friend of Ayane’s I’ve consistently named-dropped, so I hope that cued you in to who these kids were.

Speaking of which: I stole that name from Bakugo from My Hero Academia. I was watching the show at the time, and I like the character. Ergo, I stole his name.

Link being very aware that he had been triggered during the fireworks show-- I have a very specific gripe about the way people write PTSD that bleeds through this sequence that I cannot explain in a sentence or two. But what’s important is that I have experienced that moment when your body is triggered but your brain isn’t-- so you can start to feel yourself freaking out while in your mind you know there is no threat, yet the body’s reaction starts to cloud your mind, causing a spiral of anxiety and panic. 

Proxi visiting the fairy fountain in Kakariko is one of my favorite scenes. I just like how simple it is, and how it gives a glimpse into what Proxi’s life is like outside of Link.

I did momentarily freak out after posting because I was worried I didn’t make it clear before this chapter that while there is magic lingering at the fountain it can’t heal. But no one has mentioned it yet, so I think I’m safe to wait until a future chapter to clarify that.

Fairies being too small to have more than one emotion is of course taken from Peter Pan. As a long-time lover of fairies (my childhood hyperfixation), it’s a whimsical idea that I just adore. I originally wanted to use that idea as justification for Proxi mirroring Link’s emotions without Link mirroring hers. 

There would be scenes where he is utterly calm while she’s freaking out or crying because he’s good at covering his feelings, but she can’t. I thought this would rid her of too much agency, so I changed it to a mutual sharing of emotions so that Proxi has more space to her own person while still being his “translator.”

I also like the idea of Link being able to gather the ability to talk, but only in relation to comforting Proxi. That’s development, baby. 

I do wish I rewrote that last scene where he feels Proxi’s joy for the first time, as I really like the idea that he would feel a sense of helplessness and horror to be controlled by another person like that. What’s there now is fine, but it could be better.

Now, onto the present-day section: 

It is very, very obvious that I meant to end the last chapter with that conversation between Warriors and Lincoln. Like I said, the original version really sucked (or at least, my original prose describing what the Chain’s arrival at the castle was like). It makes more sense for Lincoln to drop the information about Lionel in the same chapter Lionel is name-dropped.

Lionel was originally going to be Lincoln’s name, but I picked Lincoln since it has the more obvious tie to the Link-Linkle naming pattern. 

Also, this chapter includes a much needed discussion about the ethics of blaming all of the nation’s problems on a single ethnic group. On one hand, it is stupidly effective to utilize bigotry to gather power, and it’s a rhetorical technique even a more morally-upstanding Warriors would use. On the other hand, that’s an objectively terrible thing to do oh my god. 

So I kinda had to go in and cover my bases of having the characters talk and acknowledge what the implications of Warriors’s plan is. The big glaring issue of this conversation is that it also implicates Lincoln and rids him of his moral superiority. 

Personally, I kinda struggle to think of a real-world equivalent to the dynamic I established in the story, where the institution of the Sheikah does a lot of harm while the people within the institution are experiencing the social-consequences of being associated with it. The best I can come up with is Mormoms. 

Either way, I live in fear someone is going to tell me that this is actually about an underprivileged group I am not aware of currently, and I am contributing to their oppression by not critically analyzing Link and Lincoln’s plans correctly. Which would be a valid criticism to make, but one I could avoid if I had just worked out in advance what the hell is this is an accidental allegory for, educated myself, and then fixed the issue. 

If you guys can think of something, let me know so that I can get started on educating myself and such.

The Castle Town arc’s recurring theme is just bureaucracy, which does not make for exciting storytelling. But I do think it’s fitting for Warriors, who used to benefit from the system, to realize all the ways it’s not made to actually help people. I also think he’s the kind of person to realize he doesn’t have the time or ability to rehaul it entirely and has to settle on trying to work within it.

I can finally reveal my “Midna is a fantastic public servant” agenda. My girl was explicitly stated to be a good and dedicated ruler in Twilight Princess, and I will not let anyone else forget it. 

I really wish that this was more of an ensemble story so that I can write about Hyrule and Sky’s adventures in the Castle Town nightlife

If there is one thing I don’t really like about this chapter, it’s the sequence from Warriors talking to Lana about Cia to the end of Icarius’s capture. Reading it back, it really comes off as very corny and very carelessly written.

I initially planned for Icarius to be captured during the bell ringing in the lead up to Warriors trying to draw the Master Sword

I was imagining a scene where they are watching the news about the invasion be announced and, as Warriors is cursing the bad luck of it all, Spirit would just scrunch his brow and say, “Captain.” And Warriors, who is unfortunately drift compatible with him, would be like “go ahead.” And then Spirit would motion for Linkle to follow, and the two of them would reappear after the Master Sword rejected Warriors with Icarius already tied up.

The problem was that would block Spirit off from understanding the whole Master Sword rejection thing, and I really needed him to carve up Warriors’s hand. 

So I punted this whole ordeal with Icarius off to another chapter, and I have been scrambling trying to find another spot for him.

Ultimately, I do think this worked out because I have no idea what the hell the would have done with Icarius during the networking scenes.

After being disappointed with how this version of the capture scene turned out, I was very tempted to cut it and just have Spirit and Linkle haul Icarius into Warriors’s office, but I didn’t want to cut out a scene of Linkle being a bit of a badass. 

And let’s talk about Icarius, because it’s been a while since we’ve thought about him.

First off, you can tell that I was having a lot of fun this chapter trying to find ways to let them have a conversation with Icarius when he can’t speak verbally and they don’t know his sign. The dictionary combined with the gesturing seemed like a fun but logical solution.

Though, in the back of my brain, I kept remembering how stupid I thought that bit in Iron Flame about the translation was. So when I wrote about Warriors translating Faovarian with just a dictionary, I was sitting there feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. 

This scene also reminded me how tragic it is that Icarius can’t speak, because I know how hilarious this man would have been with sassing his captors. 

I also got a chance to put forth the core tenant of Icarius’s feelings for Warriors: mainly, that he thinks Warriors is both insanely handsome but ultimately stupid as all fuck. 

When I first made it clear that the House of Nephus was a reflection of Warriors, Time, and Spirit, I totally thought someone would put together that Icarius, as the Spirit-equivalent, was trying to save Philo. No one ever remarked on it, so maybe it was too obvious to mention. 

(If I were to ever do another one-shot side story in the style of Smoke the Pipe, I would probably do one about Icarius’s life before the events of the plot, if only because I have a lot of ideas of how Faovaria works and how Icarius and Nephus got to where they are now; though I doubt anyone would be as interested in my silly OC’s as I am). 

I also thought someone would figure out Philo was related to the whole Fused Shadow plotline when, in his introductory scene, he used Midna’s powers. I thought it was obvious. 

I also like the idea of the Dark Interlopers having different legacies outside of Hyrule; generally, I’ve just had a lot of fun taking different bits of canon Hyrule lore and figuring out how they could fit into a greater world. My favorite (not in this chapter) example is when Nephus referred the the Three Goddess as oracles mistaken for goddesses. We know Din and Nayru appeared as oracles outside of Hyrule, and Nephus’s line implies that they are still important folk figures in Faovaria, just not goddesses. 

Spirit’s snarky good luck being the nice version of his thoughts is exactly the kind of bullshit I would pull as a socially-inept kid; he realized what he originally wanted to say was too mean so he wanted to convey some kind of recognition that he understood Icarius’s thought process but still wanted to warn him how hard it was going to be. He really, genuinely thought good luck would be the nicest way of conveying that. He’s so bad with people. I love him. 

And, god. Time. Poor guy has walked around his entire life feeling like there has only ever been one person who ever cared for him, only for that one person to turn around and be like yeah I regret helping you. 

Then there’s Warriors who is starting to learn to not let himself get tangled up in fights against Spirit, who is so wrapped up in trying to stop this war that he doesn’t even have the energy to entertain Spirit’s bullshit right now.

Which leaves Spirit alone, with only Warriors to cling on to. 

His conversation with Warriors in the hallway is another favorite of mine, if only because it sounds really natural. I think my dialogue is too on the nose sometimes, so I’ve been trying to let the characters talk around themselves way more. 

Hot tip: if you are writing about men, make sure you mention their facial hair and shaving habits. As a long-time lover of facial hair, I love hearing about characters growing stubble or having to remember to shave in the morning. It’s a little detail that gets overlooked in fiction a lot, and I’m so bitter about it. 

Oh, the newspaper article. Let’s chat about that now. 

Public opinion plays a big role in political intrigue, which I never see enough stories taking advantage of. I knew from the beginning that I wanted Warriors to get exposed in the newspaper after he was well into cleaning up his act, but I wasn’t sure how to go about it. 

As many of you know, one of my most infamous cuts from the story is an original character who was a journalist during the war producing propaganda about Warriors. In the present day, this journalist would have felt so guilty for the role they played that they would have been on the pursuit of writing a story about what really happened back then. They would have been a neutral to antagonistic force in Warriors’s life. 

You can probably guess that this expose was supposed to be their work-- a decision to finally report truthfully despite being asked to lie once more for the greater good. I really wanted to juggle with the ethics of propaganda, and to have a moment where Warriors straddles that moral line by wanting to utilize propaganda for the greater good (but for real this time). 

I cut the character because a) there were too many bozos in this story already, and b) I didn’t think that a plotline about propaganda would be the most useful in a story about a kingdom where the people’s opinion does not matter (in retrospect, that’s a misconception on my part about what propaganda is used for). 

In some ways, I think it did hurt the story a bit to not have a specific character attached to the article. However, I ultimately like having no specific journalist attached to it since it places the blame more squarely on Impa. 

Writing the full article out was most definitely not the best use of my time or the best use of space, but I was worried that if I did not, readers would be really confused as to what the general public did and did not know. 

Stylistically, the article is meant to be more of an profile/investigation piece over a straight-informative blurb. The best example I can find is this article from the Cut on Usha Vance.

(I have spent the past month deep in the anti-Vance think pieces. Fuck both of them. I can’t believe I am going to have to keep hearing about these bastards probably for the rest of my life.)

As you can see, there is the occasional use of first person and more storytelling techniques used alongside facts. I chose this style mostly to make sure the article wasn’t too boring to read. 

I also struggled picking good numbers for the article that would sound severe, without being over the top. I think I picked some realistic stats. But if I messed up, it would be very funny and would invalidate all of my bitching about Fourth Wing’s bad numbers. 

At least I got to use this as an opportunity to drop some new info on you, such as...

Marigold was 19 when she gave birth to Warriors. Yeah, there’s a bit more to the Marigold story that is still left to be uncovered. There is a thematic reason to why Warriors does not seem to acknowledge how young she was when she became his mother.

How do I put this? There’s an irony in him knowing that he was failed by being made responsible for the kingdom at 17, and then not realizing that Marigold was also failed in a similar way. I think people generally have a problem realizing that the problems they see in the world are more widespread than they are, and that they take on multiple forms. And when one thing is wrong in the world, it usually is reflected elsewhere in an unexpected way. 

Warriors believes that Marigold had a responsibility to take care of him because she was his mother despite her age. Warriors had a responsibility to be the hero, despite his age. He understands that just because society at large saw this as his duty, it doesn’t mean it was right. He doesn’t realize this wasn’t Marigold’s duty either to take care of him.

I explored this idea earlier in the story with the use of child soldiers being contrasted with Kat’s underage prostitution. 

Also, Anders Brecht. His last name is a reference to Bertold Brecht, the playwright.

It’s nice to get his story out of Warriors’s perspective of my friend betrayed me and into this is a well-educated activist who was executed for trying to make positive change in the world. To this day, it surprises me how many people were not sympathetic to the turncoats in this story.

Another thematic point: both Anders and Marigold were the Hyrulean-equivalent of leftists. Despite having their influence on him, Warriors still turned out far more moderate than them, and far more prone to causing harm. Insert rant here about how just because you surround yourself with good people doesn’t mean you will turn out like them, etc. 

Spirit being ashamed about the article-- Spirit is definitely someone who understands that just because someone knows you went through some shit, it doesn’t mean they will really give you the validation you want. He’s what happens when the vitamin fantasy doesn’t yield the acknowledgement you thought you were going to get. 

And, finally, Warriors gets put into a corner and manages not to resort to using Spirit to his advantage. I enjoy that Warriors’s determination to not use Spirit as a pawn to sway public opinion back into his favor comes at the cost of, well, being on the verge of losing the goddamn fight. Oh Warriors, you can be a better person now but being a good person doesn’t win wars. 

While the opening conversation between Lincoln and Warriors would have 100% worked better at the end of the last chapter, I do think it’s nice that their conversations are bookends. 

I do think it’s kinda silly that celebrities have to apologize for doing something wrong to the general public, and a part of me wanted to use this story as a means to point that out. But I also have to admit that there is a social reason why we expect it, and I have come out on the side of pro-apology. 

This is the first time in-story that Lincoln hugs Warriors. 

Warriors really needed someone to tell him that they were proud of him and, I won’t lie, I also kinda needed it at the moment of writing. As much as Warriors still has a lot to learn and improve on, it feels good to see him get some of the praise he desperately needs. 

Warriors’s character arc really is just him realizing that while he has to do his heroic duties, he would much rather be living a quiet domestic life with his family. Well, he always knew he wanted that. He just went about it wrong with Spirit and Time. He’s just getting to start over with a better perspective and less coercion. 

And finally, the Knights of Hyrule are arriving. I’m not lying when I say that I have spent most of this year trying to get to this stupid plot point. I thought the trip to Castle Town to now was going to be one chapter. That was back in March. It’s November now. Ugh. 

So yeah. That’s the chapter. 

You might have noticed that my style is a bit different this chapter. Looking back on old chapters, I can see myself overwriting in a lot of places, especially in the narration the explore’s Warriors’s thought process. I’ve been trying to cut that back in order to both clean up my writing and cut down on the sheer bulk of words every chapter requires.

I think it’s working out so far, but I won’t blame anyone for thinking the chapter is a little underwritten, or it seems like I’m putting in less effort into the story. 

Ideally, I would like to get two more chapters out by the end of the year-- one for each month. I have no idea how that will work out when I am as busy as usual and the holidays are coming up. But I will try my best. 

(I also just realized that there is three weeks left to the month and I have not started the new chapter yet. Oof.)

(If I keep up the chapter a month pace, the story will end around April, aka: CTB’s next birthday.)

Thank you to everyone who has kept up with this story for so long. I love writing long stories, but there’s always a point where readership peters out (not surprising; comes with the art form). CTB has long hit this point (taking a four month break this year did not help), so I appreciate everyone who has kept up so far and everyone who has recently given this story a shot. Hopefully the next chapter will worth all the time and dedication you have shown this story so far <3

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #27 – From the Ruins of Empire: The Revolt Against the West and the Remaking of Asia by Pankaj Mishra

Yet another work of nonfiction I picked up because an intriguing-sounding quote from it went viral on tumblr. This was the fifth history book I’ve read this year, but the first that tries very consciously to be an intellectual history. Both an interesting and a frustrating read – my overall opinion went back and forth a few times both as I read and as I put together this review.

The book is ostensibly a history of Asia’s intellectual response to European empire’s sudden military and economic superiority and political imperialism in the 19th and 20th centuries, though it’s focus and sympathy is overwhelmingly with what it calls ‘middle ground’ responses (i.e. neither reactionary traditionalism nor unthinking westernization). It structures this as basically a series of biographies of notable intellectual figures from the Islamic World, China and India from throughout the mid-late 19th and early 20th centuries - Liang Qichao and Jamal al-Din al-Afghani get star bidding and by far the most focus, with Rabindranath Tagore a distant third and a whole scattering of more famous personages further below him.

The central thesis of the book is essentially that the initial response of most rich, ancient Asian societies to sudden European dominance (rung in by the Napoleonic occupation of Egypt and the British colonization of India) was denial, followed (once European guns and manufactured goods made this untenable) by a deep sense of inferiority and humiliation. This sense of inferiority often resulted in attempts by ruling elites and intellectuals to abandon their own traditions and westernize wholesale (the Ottoman Tanzimat reforms, the New Culture Movement in China, etc), but at the same time different intellectual currents responded to the crisis by synthesizing their own visions of modernity, and tried to construct a new world with a centre other than the West.

I will be honest, my first and most fundamental issue with this book is that I just wish it was something it wasn’t. Which is to say, it is a resolutely intellectual and idealist history, convinced of the power of ideas and rhetoric as the engine for changing the world. Which means that the biography of one itinerant revolutionary is exhaustively followed so as to trace the evolution of his world-historically important thoughts, but the reason the Tanzimat Reforms failed is just brushed aside as having something to do with europhile bureaucrats building opera houses in Istanbul. Not at all hyperbole to say I’d really rather it was actually the exact opposite – the latter is just a much more interesting subject!

Not that the biographies aren’t interesting! They very much are, and do an excellent job of getting across just how interconnected the non-Western (well, largely Islamic and to a lesser extent Sino-Pacific) world was in the early/mid-19th century, and even moreso how late 19th/early 20th century globalization was not at all solely a western affair. They’re also just fascinating in their own right, the personalities are larger than life and the archetype of the globe-trotting polyglot intelligentsia is one I’ve always found very compelling. While I complain about the lack of detail, the book does at least acknowledge the social and economic disruptions that even purely economic colonialism created, and the impoverishment that created the social base the book’s subjects would eventually try to arouse and organize. And, even if I wish they were all dug into in far more detail, the book’s narrative is absolutely full of fascinating anecdotes and episodes I want to read about in more detail now.

Which is a problem with the book that it’s probably fairer to hold against it – it’s ostensible subject matter could fill libraries, and so to fit what it wants to into a readable 400-page volume, it condenses, focuses, filters and simplifies to the point of myopia. Which, granted, is the stereotypical historian’s complaint about absolutely anything that generalizes beyond the level of an individual village or commune, but still.

This isn’t at all helped but the overriding sense that this was a book that started with the conclusion and then went back looking for evidence to support its thesis and create a narrative. Which is a shame, because the section on the post-war and post-decolonization world is by far the sloppiest and least convincing, in large part because you can feel the friction of the author trying to make their thesis fit around the obvious objections to it.

Which is to say, the book draws a line on the evolution of Asian thought through trying to westernize/industrialize/nationalize and compete with the west on it’s own terms (in the book’s view) a more authentic and healthy view that rejects the western ideals of materialism and nationalism into something more spiritual, humane, and cosmopolitan, with Gandhi kind of the exemplar of this kind of view. It tries to portray this anti-materialistic worldview as the ideology of the future, the natural belief system of Asia which Europe and America can hope to learn from. It then, ah, lets say struggles to to find practical evidence of this in modern politics or economics, lets say (the Islamic Republic of Iran and Edrogan’s Turkey being the closest). It is also very insistent that ‘westernization’ is a false god that can never work, which is an entirely reasonable viewpoint to defend but if you are then you really gotta remember that Japan/South Korea/Taiwan like, exist while going through all the more obvious failures. One is rather left feeling that Mishra is trying to speak an intellectual hegemony into existence, here. (The constant equivocation and discomfort when bringing up socialism – the materialistic western export par excellence, but also perhaps somewhat important in 20th century Asian intellectual life – also just got aggravating).

It’s somewhere between interesting and bleakly amusing that modernity and liberal democracy have apparently been discredited and ideologically exhausted for more than one hundred years now! Truly we are ruled by the ideals of the dead.

I could honestly complain about the last chapter at length – the characterization of Islam as somehow more deeply woven in and inextricable from Muslim societies than any other religion and the resultant implicit characterization of secular government as necessarily western intellectual colonialism is a big one – but it really is only a small portion of the book, so I’ll restrain myself. Though the casual mention of the failures of secular and socialist post-colonial nation-building projects always just reminds me of reading The Jakarta Method and makes me sad.

So yeah! I felt significantly more positively about the book before I sat down and actually organized my thoughts about it. Not really sure how to take that.

[gamebunny-advance]

Overlays + Logo Experiments 2023 (Kuneho sa Kahon)

This is some old work that I did last year.

I'm not gonna call this stuff "scrapped," because I may still use them someday, it's just that I don't know if or when I'm gonna start streaming again.

I forgot how long ago I actually made these, but I do know that it was during a time when I actually sucked it up and sat down with Inkscape for a while. I've probably forgotten everything I learned since then, but I remember it not being as difficult as I thought it was going to be, so picking it back up again probably won't take too long.

Anyway, the actual notes...

I made 2 versions of the "Game" overlay, 16:9 and 4:3 to accommodate more gaming eras (the games shown are just placeholders). I'd like to have a dual screen overlay too, but it might have to be less "showy" to give the game enough room to actually be seen.~

It's mostly inspired by things like the Windows XP music player, just pinkified to match Kun3h0's aesthetic.

The message box is of course lightly tamagotchi inspired and is supposed to match with Kun3h0's GAB. (Well actually, I designed these overlays first, so it's the GAB that takes after the overlay, even using the same background image for her tummy screen).

There isn't a proper overlay for art streams yet. I'm always accidentally grabbing the edges of my workspace and resizing it, so I don't think a boxed overlay would work that well for it. Maybe just a border and a place to put the alerts would be fine, but I don't really have any ideas for it~

They aren't quite "finished" yet. There are supposed to be icons in the trio of hot pink buttons, but my placeholder ideas for them didn't look great.

(Icons originally from Icons8)

The idea was to bring in some more of that tamagotchi influence by having "care icons" that would allude to some of the features of Kun3h0's game, but I just don't think the icons I chose really work. Plus, I think they're just busy. I should probably just throw some hearts in there and call it a day~

Next are the logos. I actually really like the first one, but it's a little hard to work with.

All the empty space above the title next to the ears creates, well, an empty space when the logo is at the top edge of anything. It's just very ugly to me, but there's not much I could think to do about it.

So, I made the next iteration. It's a lot more rectangular, so it's easier to place in scenes, but I think the layering of the letters is a little off. I love the idea for it, but it's just short of being great. With a few more tweaks, I think it could really work.

But you know, I feel like the problem that almost all my logos have is that they're all bulky. There are just a lot of words in there since I include the English translation, but I figure that maybe I might be able to just condense everything into a single icon: like maybe the GAB Micro is enough of a symbol on its own to work? Maybe throw a couple of K's onto the screen, but otherwise I don't think I actually need much more than that. So, maybe I'll work on something like that soon.

The last thing is just some vector art tests I did. I tried remaking this faux vector art from a while ago. It was just a way to try and get used to the program. I also tried to remake my pictogram 1010s, to varying success.

[unlucky-leek]

I'm still really struggling with the whole novel writing thing. I'm gonna ramble a bit so you can ignore this if you want lol

Basically I've realised that I keep settling on an idea, doing a bunch of research / planning, getting super into writing it for a while, and then lose all motivation as soon as I reach some sort of roadblock. For example I'll be like "OK cool, so how do we get from plot point A to plot point B...", but then the more I start trying to come up with solutions, the more I start overthinking everything, and then I end up in this spiral of "that doesn't make sense, the characters wouldn't do that, that's too cliché, that's just a dumb excuse for x, y, and z, no-one would read this or take this seriously, imagine the negative reviews, etc etc", which I *know* is dumb because I've been writing for *years* and ever since I was a literal child I've had people complimenting my story telling and writing style. Even my fanfics have had a lot of nice comments from people. And it gets worse than that - I occasionally find forgotten collections of my own writing from over a decade ago and I'm like "damn, this is actually really good, how did I do that?" And then I get miserable because I feel like younger me was writing much better than current me, and I don't know how to recapture that.

I think a major issue I have is that my characters tend to take on a life of their own, and then it becomes hard for me to make them do things I know they wouldn't do, which makes changing and adapting the story much harder once I've established them. On the flip side, if I don't do that, then I don't feel invested in them and can't be bothered writing their story, which also sucks.

Something that simultaneously keeps impressing me and annoying me is my writing from 2016-2017. As it turns out, I wrote a LOT that year. There's so much, and I love re-reading it because it feels like I'm reading someone else's work (maybe that's a dumb thing to say, idk). But the problem is it's all half finished or random short stories that will never fit in anywhere. It's so mystical and philosophical, full of dark themes, pondering existence, fairy tale like settings... But none of it is finished, and now I feel like I can't do it justice.

There's a story I started back then that I'm desperate to finish but it's so philosophical that I get sad every time I try to work on it, which sounds ridiculous, but it is what it is lol (it's based on the concept of Tulpas if you know what they are).

Then there's the story I've had going on in my head since 2008. I've written a few scenes for it here and there, but the damn thing spans over 3000 in universe years and almost 20 irl years, how the heck are you meant to condense that into a book?? I tried writing a new story set in the same universe, but it just didn't feel right. Ironically they're the characters I feel most comfortable writing about even though I can never publish anything about them (probably).

Then there's one I've been working on recently that was based on an old fanfic story of mine (the original plot, not the characters), but I keep getting paranoid that I can never publish it because the original fanfic from 2011 is still out there. Are original adaptations of fanfics you wrote a thing? Would people sneer at it?

Then I have a random other story I got pretty far with but realised I don't know enough about the themes or the community involved to write it respectfully, so I've temporarily given up on that for now too.

I've kind of ended up in a bit of a slump I guess. In no small part due to the fact that since 2017 I just haven't had as much time to write as I'd like, and if I do I overthink it all and don't actually write anything. Or I'll be spending time doing other things I enjoy and an annoying thought will be going "you could be using this time to write", and then I just feel annoyed at myself.

Maybe I should just start with a short story collection or something... At least I know I'm relatively good at those. Or maybe I'll push through the sadness it causes and just work on the Tulpa one at last.

Not sure why I'm writing this to be honest, I think I just needed to get it all down to clear my mind.

Thanks for reading if you got this far, I hope to have an actual story for you to read one day!

~03/10/2024

[fandomsandfeminism]

Thinking about the Odyssey again, the way one does.

And ok, so obviously there is no "canon" for Greek mythology- oral tradition and multitudes of authors spread out over centuries means that even very basic parts of the figures lives- like marriages and children- are rarely consistent, never mind stuff like a coherent and logical timeline.

But here are some facts:

Odysseus first meets Penelope when he is vying for her cousin's (Helen) hand in marriage. Odysseus is the clever bugger who comes up with the vow of the suitors to prevent a war breaking out over Helen, in exchange for an engagement to Penelope. So Odysseus is of marrying age at the vow- Penelope's age is unknown.

Helen and Menelaus' daughter, Hermione, is ....probably around 9 when Helen is abducted to Troy ( I've spent like an hour trying to hunt down the source for this little fact that Wikipedia didn't have a citation for. I've found some translation notes from an 1876 translation that seems to pull this from some of Helen's comments about her daughter when Telemachus is visiting in the original Greek. Old enough that her engagement was already being discussed before Helen was taken though- she's actually getting married to Achilles' son in The Odyssey, which...if she was 9 at the beginning of the war, puts her at almost 30 in the Odyssey? Which...not totally sure why they waited 10 years after the end of the war to get married, especially if she was 19 when the war ended. You see the problem I'm having here? )

So the vow of the suitors has to have been at least 10 years before Helen's abduction if we accept Hermione is 9 when Helen is taken.

Helen's sister, Clytemnestra, got engaged to Agamemnon after the vow of the suitors as well (a consolation prize for him not getting Helen. ugh.) And her oldest daughter is old enough to actually be getting married when the war began (She and her mother believe that she is going to marry Achilles before he leaves for war before...uh...Agamemnon is the worst.) Now maybe Iphigenia is on the young side for marriage- presumably the understanding could be that they wouldn't consummate this marriage until Achilles returned? Assuming she is of actual marriage age though, this would push the vow of the suitors to at least 13 or 14 years before the war begins. (This story about Iphigenia doesn't appear in the Odyssey, and we aren't sure if it was part of the lost Epic Cycle books or was a later edition. More confounding issues!)

Helen was at least 13 when she got married (Traditionally, she was uhhhhh kidnapped by Theseus and returned when she was 12) but possibly as old as 20. 13 would be radically young, yes even back then, but marriage doesn't inherently mean consummation right away, especially for young political marriages. So, we'll say that's the lower limit.

We have no idea how old Penelope was, except that she must have been younger than Helen. (She wasn't married or engaged yet.)

Telemachus is a baby, maybe like 1, when the war begins. This puts an 8 year gap between his birth and Hermione's (And maybe a....12 year gap between him and Iphigenia) despite all their parents getting engaged at the same time, and all of these being political, royal marriages where producing an heir as soon as it is physically and biologically safe to do so would be....a goal.

There are basically 2 possible ways to reconcile all these facts, if was want to incorporate all of them. (You could just....toss out Hermione and Iphigenia's ages and condense the timeline here, but where's the fun in that!?)

EITHER- Penelope had Telemachus early in their marriage, as would be expected, which means Odysseus and Penelope had a very long engagement, her being a literal child of like... maybe 10 at the oldest when they got engaged, and they are still in their like...2nd year of marriage when Odysseus leaves for Troy.

OR- Penelope is pretty close in age to her cousins and her and Odysseus have been married for many years before Troy. Which would imply that, despite almost a decade of marriage, they had only just had their first child. Consider the implications there- possible issues with infertility? Many miscarriages? Would this explain the age gap between Telemachus and his cousins, Hermione and Iphigenia?

If it was so difficult for them to conceive, could that be an *added* reason why Odysseus can't bear to kill Telemachus in his attempt to seem mad (He sows salt into his field in an attempt to make Menelaus and Agamemnon think he's insane so he wont be forced to honor the vow and go to war, but they place baby Telemachus in the path of the plow and Odysseus veers aside, proving he is sane.) Is that thought in the back of his mind that Penelope may not bear him any more children- if they lose Telemachus, then they might not ever have more children?

On top of this being just emotionally more interesting for that moment, I think it pairs more nicely with the actual bond we see between Penelope and Odysseus. Even after 20 years apart, the way they speak about and think about each other feels, I dunno, like they had been together for a bit longer before the war, ya know?

Side note: Paris is promised the love of the most beautiful woman in the world at the wedding of Achilles' parents. And Achilles is at least 13 when the war begins (He already has a son? but is still young enough to be disguised as a "maiden" when they come looking for warriors? This is all guesswork) So...he really had to wait for that promise from Aphrodite to work out.

[ro-valerius]

Stubborn Streak

Tofu is stubborn and still won't let anyone else help him with his little rat problem. Callum is equally stubborn, and perceptive, and won't let him go alone to face this adversary that had called on him.

Callum and Tofu [featured], and Peach and Tio [mentioned] are mine, Berry and Kore [mentioned] belong to @sorrel-haven

“You’re not calling Peach and Berry, are you?” Callum asked after the two of them had made some distance from the cafe. The way Tofu was walking had given him away. Tofu kept his jaw stubbornly set. “...This got to do with those guys from Ul’dah?” Once more, a subtle shift in Tofu’s expression told Callum all he needed to know. “I thought you said you’d let them help you.” It was a pointed statement rather than a question. 

“These are my enemies to deal with, not theirs,” Tofu responded flatly. Callum gave him a look. 

“They care about you, Tofu, they want to help you because they care,” he said. Tofu returned the look Callum had given him.

“I don’t want them getting hurt because of my past. I-I can’t let them help me with this,” he said, lowering his eyes at the end. 

“Why are you so stubborn about this?”

“Because Tio almost died trying to help me.”

They were quiet for a long moment as they walked. 

"You're still stuck on that? At the end of the day, you were the one that almost died. If you keep doing things alone, what if something happens to you? They'd be devastated," Callum finally said solemnly. Tofu was quiet for a moment longer, not looking at Callum.

"They're…closer to each other. It wouldn't matter. They'd be fine-" His words were cut short as Callum spun on him, punching him with his non-dominant hand so as not to actually hurt him. It didn't knock Tofu back too much, but it was enough to shut him up and to bruise his lip.

"Don't be stupid." Tofu hadn't seen this sort of expression from Callum in years. "Of course it would matter. Why can't you see how much you mean to the people you love?" 

The conversation died out after that. Tofu took them out of the Goblet, until they came to a secluded section of Hammerlea, out past the East Hammer. There were a few dead Coblyns scattered across the dirt, the light of the lighthouse passing by in flashes. In the crook of the high rock walls stood a figure in dark clothing, cat ears apparent even in the dim of night. The figure held out a hand and snapped, sending several small balls of flame swirling around and into the air; not to attack, but to illuminate the field. 

The figure belonged to a miqo’te woman with dusty brown hair that was pushed out of her face, the markings on her face and her pupils denoting her as a Keeper of the Moon. The woman tilted her head back and smirked, but her expression soured as she caught sight of Callum behind Tofu. She held a hand to her ear and spoke, clear as day even across the expanse between them. 

“Oi, you said he’d be alone. Yea, no, there’s another rabbit with him. Yea, blue hair, feather.” 

As she spoke into her linkpearl, Tofu discreetly pulled one of the throwing knives from the pouch at his hip, quickly sending it her way with well practiced aim. Her eyes flickered towards him as she raised her free hand up quickly, a chunk of ice blocking the knife briefly before she broke it down and held out her hand again. He felt himself being pulled to the ground as the sigil in his chest flared from the spell.

“Now now, don’t interrupt. Mommy and Daddy are talking,” she cooed, before turning her attention back to the linkpearl. “So I can kill him too? Copy.” 

“Tofu!” Callum exclaimed, starting towards him before stopping and aiming his bow at the woman instead; the idea was to interrupt her cast, but before he could fire, she sent a small, condensed ball of fire towards him, hitting the bow in the center and breaking it in half. Callum cursed and dropped both halves to the ground beside him. He started towards her, as if to fight her with just his fists, but a knife buried itself in the ground in front of his feet. He glanced at Tofu, where it had come from.

“You remember how to use one of those, right?” Tofu managed through gritted teeth. Callum scooped it up and dashed at the woman with a hastily called back “Of course!” as he bore down on her.

She stepped back with each of Callum’s swings until her back hit the rocks behind her; perhaps cornering herself wasn’t the smartest idea, but it was just supposed to be one rabbit, not two! She cut her concentration on the spell pinning Tofu down and blasted Callum back with a powerful lightning spell. Her eyes snapped over to Tofu as he staggered to his feet, his second knife in his hand as he readied to attack. She sent a fireball his way, but before it could connect, Callum intercepted, putting himself between Tofu and the attack. 

“Callum!” 

“It’s fine, I picked up healing after Ro told me about you almost dying, I can take care of this injury later. Better if I take the spell than you!” But even as Callum spoke, he dropped to his knees, clutching the burned skin where the spell had landed with a curse. 

“Get started healing that, then!” Tofu said as he rushed past Callum towards the woman. 

The miqo'te woman seethed as Tofu approached, sending panicked spell after panicked spell as he dodged each one, until he was on her. It was the first time she had ever felt fear, as she stared into his cold, expressionless gaze. She held out her hand between them, but he was already on her, knife embedded into her stomach to the hilt. As the light faded from her eyes, she shot off one last spell. A burst of lightning launched Tofu backwards, who could barely keep his hand around his knife as he landed harshly on the ground. 

“Tofu are you-”

“Make sure she’s dead!” Tofu ordered, clutching his chest as he pushed himself to his feet. 

Callum gave a brief nod before running over to the miqo'te woman, kneeling and confirming that she was, in fact, dead. With a relieved exhale, he stood up, making his way back to where Tofu was standing shakily. 

“She’s dead, yeah. Let’s get you home.” After a brief pause, Callum’s face fell. “Ah heck, I forgot to pearl Kore and tell her where we- Actually, better if she doesn’t know, yeah…? She might very well wring your neck if she found out this was Tuturoko business, wouldn’t she?” 

“R-right. Thanks. Let’s go.”

[disneydarlin]

Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir Is a Good Anime

There have been many complaints among the community about the Miraculous Ladybug show. However, if fans learned of the true structural intentions behind the series, they wouldn't think it's as flawed. Unfortunately, one of Thomas Astruc's original ideas for Miraculous Ladybug was changed and this set the stage for how the general public view the series. This was the art style of how the show was to be presented. People know Miraculous Ladybug is a 3D animated cartoon, but the series was supposed to be a two-dimensional classic anime. Those who truly understand anime are aware it's for all ages and it's quite adult, depending on the genre. Meaning, it's not simply a cartoon for kids.

The Original

One can't deny Thomas Astruc has some problems when dealing with his fans criticism. However, what many people consider to be flaws of the Miraculous Ladybug & Cat Noir show could easily be seen as strengths if they look at Astruc's view on his creation. Below is a URL to a video featuring Astruc's true intentions for the show.

https://twitter.com/bara_moe_bltch/status/1598654982521327617

https://twitter.com/i/status/1598654982521327617

After watching the video, imagine the Miraculous Ladybug show fans know in this anime style. For those who are familiar with anime, many things about the series should make more sense. These include: the slow character development, the exaggerated character behaviors, the unrealistic character traits and the overall timeline.

The Timeline

The show's timeline is perhaps the biggest complaint among fans. However, it's quite common for anime to stretch out an in-universe month, week, or even five minutes; into several episodes of the series. Yes, this is how five seasons of Miraculous Ladybug can easily translate into a single year passing for the beloved characters. This means, many of the characters', who's ages have been labeled as unknown, are actually still the original ages they started with. Many of the characters are either thirteen to fourteen or they're fourteen to fifteen-years-old. It's easy to know the main characters' ages too because, they've had on-screen birthdays. As a result, there is a timeline, it's simply moving slower than most people would expect. This is actually a good thing because, if Astruc wanted to, he could create several more seasons of Miraculous Ladybug until the teenagers graduate. There's a lot he could do with the show and fans could enjoy their favorite show longer.

Character Development

With a slow timeline means slow character development. Considering the wide cast of characters, this isn’t a bad thing. The stretched out sequence of events makes plenty of room for drama and character development when the time is right. Thus, there is a story being told. It may not be told in a way most people would consider traditional or condensed, but many anime storylines are long and complex. They're full of filler episodes, uncannon episodes and a rollercoaster journey. Meaning, logic doesn't typically apply to the wacky adventures seen on screen. This also means general rules of the universe, such as keeping superhero identities a secret, can change overtime as challenges and dangers become tuffer. After all, nothing lasts forever and the characters are still teenage kids who are trying their best in the situations thrown at them.

Anime Logic

Fans complain about how they have to "abandon all logic and reason" to watch Miraculous Ladybug. Well, any anime fan will say that's to be expected with most anime. This doesn't only apply to the magical and supernatural occurrences in Miraculous Ladybug or other anime either. This could apply to how the characters suddenly do a 180° on their behavior too. A character could be calm and collected one minute, the next they're suddenly irrational and violent, etc. In anime, this is typically over-the-top expressions in characters to convey entertaining movement on screen. Otherwise, the characters' unrealistic behaviors can be used to advance the plot forward. Oftentimes, this is done for comedic reasons, even if people wouldn't do these things in real life should they be seen as socially unaccepted people for their actions.

This doesn't mean fans should suddenly love Ladybug for casually hurting Cat Noir with her yo-yo and such. In addition, this doesn't mean several boy-crazy girls touching Adrien without his consent are the best role models for attracting a guy. But fans shouldn't be too harsh judging what fictional characters are doing on screen either. After all, most people understand the difference between right and wrong. Additionally, parents should be teaching their children right from wrong instead of depending on a show to spell it out for them. Which, Ladybug does learn and apologizes for her poor treatment of Cat Noir later on.

In the end, viewing Miraculous Ladybug as an anime can hopefully help people see the show in a new light. By doing this, it's easier to understand the unacceptable behaviors and confusing storyline. However, it's completely up to fans how they think and feel about the series. Regardless, Miraculous Ladybug is an entertaining fictional show by the end of the day.

[daintyduck99]

My Jatp Fics: Greatest Hits

It's my birthday! It's also roughly the two and a half year anniversary of me joining this Fandom, which feels like a milestone.

As of now, I've written 75 works for Julie and the Phantoms. 75! That's crazy. Sure, I'd say a lot of my strength lies in exploring small ideas, or in condensing a concept into something short, but... 75!

If you're reading this, I love you! There are so many amazing, talented people in this Fandom and to know you even tangentially is a blessing ❤️ I doubt I would've ever written so much if I wasn't surrounded by so many other passionate creatives.

I do have to give a special shout out to the rest of the Rulie canoe crew. ❤️💜 I love y'all and I'm glad we're friends🥰

In celebration of all of the above, I've compiled a top ten list of all of my fics that I'd most recommend, so if you'd like to show my stories some love (and don't want to wade through all 75), here are the hits:

the sunflower series

Reggie/Julie, QPR Reggie & Luke & Julie, Luke & Flynn

This one is about summer love and how it shines. It's about diving headlong into the surf while your friends cheer you on and holding hands with your ghosts. It follows the echoes of those scorching summer feelings, and the sunflowers that sprout in their wake.

Mutual Pining, Fluff, Slice of Life, 33k, Rated T

what if i fall (but what if you fly)

Julie/Kayla

What if Kayla came to talk to Julie during the dance instead of Nick?

Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Julie-centric, 2k, Rated T

one more try (to feel alive)

Reggie/Julie, Julie & Rose

"Get a grip, Reginald. There's no such thing as cute ghost girls."

Fluff and Angst, Role Reversal, Ghost Julie, 1.4k, Rated T

Kept On Climbing 'Til Our Stars Collided

Luke/Bobby, Reggie/Julie, pre-Luke/Bobby/Reggie/Julie

Bobby rubs his eyes.

He must be more screwed up from the dopamine than he thought, because—

There’s an angel in the kitchen.

Fluff and Angst, Pining, Friends with Benefits, Morning After, Jealousy, Awkward Conversations, 2k, Rated M

I'll Be Your Tangerine, You Can Peel Me With Your Teeth

Reggie/Julie

"Don't worry, tesoro. I won't bite. Unless you're into that sort of thing."

He’s pale, far too pale for someone who spends much time at sea, and his blush betrays him.

Pirate AU, Smut, Bonus Romantic Fluff, 4k, Rated E

Our Luxury (A Love Like Stars)

Reggie/Luke/Julie, Luke & Emily, Luke & Ray

“So, I bought a ring,” Luke says, casual in the way that usually Reggie would realize is nowhere near casual and much closer to freaking out, but he’s a little busy choking to death on his lunch.

Fluff and Angst, Established Relationship, Misunderstandings, Proposal, Romantic Gestures, Happy Ending, 13k, Rated T

What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Feel Alive

Reggie/Julie, Reggie/Luke/Julie, Julie & Rose, Julie & Ray

Julie has several heart-to-hearts as she tries to figure out how to love a ghost (or two).

Fluff, Queer Themes, Love, Grief, Magic, Series, 7k, Rated T

It Was Only A Pick

Luke/Reggie

God, Reggie thinks as Luke smirks up at him, adorned in the fanning halo of his dark brown hair and the amusement that shines from his eyes, amplified blue from the proximity of the pick, he’s beautiful.

Fluff and Angst, Kissing, Misunderstandings, Music, Confession, Happy Ending, 4k, Rated T

Of Hearts Borrowed And Blue

Reggie/Julie

If anything, Julie’s even more of a grinch here that she would be back home, because she stuffed all of her grief into a battered suitcase, and she can’t just pull it out for every single stranger trying to get her into the Christmas spirit.

Hallmark AU, Fluff and Angst, Strangers to Lovers, 18.3k, Rated E

I Don't Want You Like A Best Friend

QPR Reggie & Julie, Luke/Reggie, Julie/Carrie

Everyone thinks Reggie and Julie are dating. It's a problem, because they're both pining over other people...but they also don't know exactly what they are, or how to reconcile their relationship with the romantic ones they want. They try to help each other, though.

Fluff and Humor, Light Angst, Pining, Jealousy, Queerplatonic Relationship, Friendship (Too Many To Tag), Love, Practice Kissing, Kissing, Friends to Lovers, Sexual Tension, Mild Sexual Content (They Are V Much Horny Teenagers), 13.8k, Rated M

[razieltwelve]

Implant (Final Effect)

“You know,” Kya drawled. “It’s kind of a miracle that you’re not actually dead.”

Lucy looked up at her in disbelief. The other woman had taken her under her wing and was easily the closest thing she’d ever had to a mother. She also had the subtlety of a bazooka to the face. That was, apparently, something that she’d most likely inherited from one of the co-founders of her House.

Never let it be said that Korra from the Age of Heroes was a big believer in walking softly although she very much enjoyed carrying a big stick.

“Do you have to put it like that?”

“I’d rather not sugarcoat it. Besides, that’s all behind you. Remember, we’re here to get all of your implants changed out.”

Lucy felt more than a bit nervous about that. She could still remember the agony she’d endured getting all of them put in, but they were a part of her now. They were how she connected to the InfoNet. The idea of being without them for any period of time was actually terrifying. However, the bio-smithing and gene-forging needed to correct all of the many, many, many problems she’d developed from basically being chained to a bed and locked into the InfoNet for most of her life was best undertaken without any implants.

At least she’d be unconscious for it. She didn’t know how she’d cope without at least some kind of link to the InfoNet. Was that screwed up? Yeah. But that was who she was. It was still hard for her to look into the mirror and not see her avatar’s face staring back at her. At least, they’d promised that her new face would look like her avatar, and they’d even do something to let her hair match too.

“Can’t we do this back home?” Lucy asked.

Home was a space port in the Sato System. It had absolutely state-of-the-art InfoNet connections, and she could spend as much time as she wanted watching the ships come and go as long as all her work got done. Kya would often sit with her, explaining what each ship was and what made them special. Lucy could have looked that information up on the InfoNet, but Kya was a natural storyteller, way better than some random slice of info or a vid.

“Look, I know you can get a bit anxious in new places. I get it. Home is probably the only place you’ve really ever felt safe, but when it comes to this sort of thing, the Dia-Farron are the best. Hell, I even called in a favour.”

“Oh?”

“You ever heard of Creation of All Things?” Kya asked.

Lucy frowned. “I think so, but I’m not sure about what it is exactly.”

“Go ahead. Look it up.”

Lucy did... and her mind boggled. “That is some serious bullshit.”

“Yep. It’s not quite Saviour levels of bullshit, but it’s close.” Kya leaned back in her chair and then flipped out of it with a casual sort of grace that still managed to take Lucy’s breath away. “Pêche will be handling your treatment, and she’s got Creation of All Things.”

“Oh.” Lucy scratched the back of her head. “That must have cost you a lot, huh?”

“Didn’t cost me a lien.” Kya’s lips curled. “Skipping to the front of the line like that? Only favours will get you there, and you better believe that I owe her a big one for doing this.” Kya shrugged. “All of the victims got standard treatment. Stuff like this? It’s not something we can offer everyone simply because we don’t have enough people who can do it. Condensing what should be weeks or months in a tank to a single session is the kind of lunacy only someone with Creation of All Things can pull off. In the entire galaxy there are a grand total of five people alive who have that Semblance.”

Lucy nodded slowly. “Thank you. I mean it. I don’t know how, but I’ll pay you back someday.”

“Just live a good life, kiddo, the kind of life that you can honestly look back at when you’re a hundred years old and be proud of.”

“I’ll try.”

“Anyway,” Kya said. “Have you chosen your new implants? Once you’re all fixed up, we’ll give you a couple of days to make sure that everything is working the way it’s supposed to, and then we’ll get the new ones popped in.”

Lucy’s eyes lit up. “I have! I was thinking of a couple of different options for my main connection interface, but I wanted to ask your opinion on them.”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

TW: Sexual Abuse , Emotional Abuse

Seeking validation? Support would be nice but this situation feels very unique, so no pressure.

Hi, this rollercoaster takes place over the course of a few years, but I will try to condense to the key points as much as possible.

In 2021, I got involved in a co dependent, emotionally abusive relationship. I was wined and dined, love bombed, isolated, lied to, sexually abused and generally it felt like being torn apart from the inside out. I had known B (we’ll call him B) for a few years before I dated him, and at that time he was married to M. M was always kind and outgoing and they seemed like a perfect couple on the outside, so it was a shocker when I found out she one day suddenly disappeared. Just packed and left and moved across the country. B told his sob story to me and then “confessed” quite suddenly that he never really loved her anyway, and that he had always had his eye on me. Thus began a merry-go-round of walking on eggshells for an entire year.

I left him early 2022, and basically went no contact. I was in a state of dissociation and a deep deep depression. Although it was better than being with him, I had no idea who to turn to after. I was grasping at the air, trying to make sense of one of the most intense and disorienting times of my life. I had lost myself. Being with him was like a surreal nightmare. And I couldn’t possibly begin to process what I had experienced in a way that wouldn’t make me sound insane to anyone on the outside.

So I did the unthinkable and reached out his ex wife, M. I told her I might have a good idea now as to why she left him and hoped that wherever she was, she was safe and happy now. I wasn’t expecting a response, but she replied with overwhelming support and love and kindness. We talked, cried, laughed, shared our experiences, and uncovered SO MANY LIES. We still couldn’t completely put it into words what we went through, but the unspoken validation was much needed (for both of us. She had left feeling like she had been the problem the whole time) and appreciated. Her sympathetic and understanding ear saved me, and I am forever grateful for her.

Fast forward to July 4th 2023. Me and M are both in therapy and have been moving forward with our own lives respectively. I have done a lot of work on myself and my self confidence and no longer have nightmares of B. Progress! I woke up on the 4th to a message here on tumblr (I have no other social media accounts as I had a feeling B was stalking me online). Turns out I may have been right, because the message was from B’s most recent ex gf. She said he spoke of me a lot, painting me as a psychotic ex, and that he was now doing the same to her. She’s not from our area, and she had been isolated because he “intensely insisted it be that way” and she had no support. My heart sank and I was shaking all over when I read it. She said that she had never reached out to an exes ex before and that she felt like a psycho for doing so but she didn’t know what else to do. And she also wants to know the truth, because she’s had a feeling for a while that the things he had told her about me and M were “fabricated to fit his own narrative”.

He told her extremely personal things about me, things that most others don’t know. This stranger knew more things than I initially realized and I feel personally violated. I did the work. I’m going through therapy and am diagnosed with PTSD. Im tackling my rough days and I’m implementing coping skills regularly. I was not prepared for this. But I can’t turn my back on someone in need. Because I know what it’s like, and M was there for me when I felt like I was drowning in insanity. I haven’t told M about this because she’s been through enough. There is no reason to drag her back into B’s mess again.

It’s just so bizarre how he is leaving this trail of hurt people behind him, and I’m realizing it’s become a pattern of picking up the broken pieces he leaves behind. Because the experience with him is so isolated and there is no physical evidence to hold against him for the damage he does. It’s all in our heads. But the destruction is very real. I’m not sure how to end this whole…thing but I think it would be comforting to know if anyone has experienced something like this? Because it seems unreal to me.

Thank you for time, and all the good work you do here.

Hi anon,

I'm so sorry about what you've been through. I admire your strength to confront what happened, get answers, and heal. You've been through a lot. I'm also glad to hear that you were able to connect with your abuser's ex wife, and I hope therapy has been going well.

I relate to a lot of what you've shared, especially the last paragraph. In my experience, my abuser acts oblivious to the damage he's done but it's hard to believe because of how calculated he is, and how desperate he is to avoid accountability. He was only in my high school for a single year but he managed to hurt dozens of people there, stranding the victims from each other as well. And since he often moved from school to school, the idea of him being a tornado is accurate, knowing there are other schools in the same exact position. I wonder if any of this resonates with you. Suffice to say, you're not alone.

Please remember that it doesn't have to be physically visible to be valid or severe, sometimes the effect it leaves on our psyche is much worse than it could ever be physically. I think too often we're made to feel like it has to be physical to be "real" enough.

If anyone has any comments or suggestions, feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help, and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun