#what if I can't make it justice

[tommyboweinabowtie]

you know when you have this project in your head but it becomes so dear to you you are afraid of actually ruining it if you put it into the world?

[brainmuncher]

So I had another idea come at me while making lunch (I'm starting to sense a pattern with myself, lmao)

What if when Jazz sends out letters to the colleges she wants to get into, she gets sent rejection letters from every single one... except the local community college. She's absolutely devastated about it. She thought that she did everything she could to be chosen. How could every single one reject her?

Danny, of course, hears about it and asks Tucker to check and see if something happened digitally. Surely, Technus or Vlad or someone messed with something to sabotage her. But when Tucker checks, there's absolutely nothing wrong. She still has her perfect grades and attendance record all set with no marks. Her community service hours are all there. It's only when he looks at the letters themselves that he finds the problem...

After looking online to see what the letters look like, he comes to a puzzling realization... the letters were fake. It's a good fake, but it's not the real thing. The signatures were off, and the writing had been changed.

This is what leads him down the rabbit hole.

He tries to ask about it online to ask others who've also been rejected. Except nobody is answering him.

Sam tries to call the numbers listed on the websites of the colleges... but the person who answers is strangely unknowledgeable about the college they represent.

The only college that seems normal about it was the nearby community college. And that somehow feels the least normal about everything.

It was only when he heard his mom complaining that they never heard from family anymore after they moved to Amity that he figured it out.

Containment. Nothing is leaving Amity. No emails, texts, letters, or posts online. Everything was being blocked.

Of course, this sends him on a mission as to why and how. He spends weeks on it. Sam and Danny actually began to become concerned for him. No, this isn't a pride thing, Sam. And yes, he is taking care of himself, Danny.

Technus is the one who gives him the answer. It was just a passing comment about how he needed to funnel through the GIW in order to infect the world. It didn't make sense to any of them because surely that's the last place you would want to do that. But then it dawned on Tucker. That's who has the power needed to do it! That's where he needed to look!

So he hacks into the GIW and is astonished by what he finds.

The anti ecto acts aren't real. There's no laws even acknowledging ghosts.

There's a file on Phantom, marked as 'candidate for X'.

And all he can find on the containment is a name he's seen described as the creator of the GIW and the main supplier of funds.

Amanda Waller.

[brighteuphony]

A moment of mourning for Sakura for words she would have once given anything to hear from Sasuke....

Kind of followup to THIS comic.

But she and Saeko have had their revenge for Enji, and Sakura has had time to heal and find closure. She won't be any good to Sasuke because she's already left that path, and she won't abandon her coven/responsibilities either.

She's learned alot about Konoha over the past few years, and has to a big degree, deprogrammed herself from the Leaf's propaganda thanks to all her teachers and some brutal life experience, so she doesn't actually care if Sasuke were to raze the entire council/kages to the ground- but there ARE people (ino, Kakashi, lee, naruto etc-) who she loves and wants to protect, so she'll stay, for them.

Sasuke, for his part, is happy to have someone just verbalize that they empathize with his pain and that his desire for revenge is justified, though he's doesn't have the bandwidth to really understand where Sakura is right now, emotionally.

In this AU I kind of had an end for Sasuke where he is pardoned, but never returns to the village, though he does pass by once in a blue moon. When he does, Sakura (who doesn't end up living IN the village as much as in the forests of Konoha like their own little witch of the woods) is there to help with healing/supplies and they do end up as good, yet distant friends.

Once again, thank you so much for all the support and really nice questions/kind words for this AU!!! <3 <3

[gingermintpepper]

In my Zeus bag today so I'm just gonna put it out there that exactly none of the great Ancient Greek warrior-heroes stayed loyal and faithful and completely monogamous and yet none of them have their greatness questioned nor do we question why they had the cultural prominence that they did and still do.

Jason, the brilliant leader of the Argo, got cold feet when it came to Medea - already put off by some of her magic and then exiled from his birthland because of her political ploys, he took Creusa to bed and fully intended on marrying her despite not properly dissolving things with Medea.

Theseus was a fierce warrior and an incredibly talented king but he had a horrible temper and was almost fatally weak to women. This is the man who got imprisoned in the Underworld for trying to get a friend laid, the man who started the whole Attic War because he couldn't keep his legs closed.

And we cannot at all forget Heracles for whom a not inconsiderable amount of his joy in life was loving people then losing the people around him that he loved. Wives, children, serving boys, mentors, Heracles had a list of lovers - male and female - long enough to rival some gods and even after completing his labours and coming down to the end of his life, he did not have one wife but three.

And y'know what, just because he's a cultural darling, I'll put Achilles up here too because that man was a Theseus type where he was fantastic at the thing he was born to do (that is, fight whereas Theseus' was to rule) but that was not enough to eclipse his horrid temper and his weakness to young pretty things. This is the man that killed two of Apollo's sons because they wouldn't let him hit - Tenes because he refused to let Achilles have his sister and Troilus who refused Achilles so vehemently that he ran into Apollo's temple to avoid him and still couldn't escape.

All four of these men are still celebrated as great heroes and men. All four of these men are given the dignity of nuance, of having their flaws treated as just that, flaws which enrich their character and can be used to discuss the wider cultural point of what truly makes a hero heroic. All four of these men still have their legacies respected.

Why can that same mindset not be applied to Zeus? Zeus, who was a warrior-king raised in seclusion apart from his family. Zeus who must have learned to embrace the violence of thunder for every time he cried as a babe, the Corybantes would bang their shields to hide the sound. Zeus learned to be great because being good would not see the universe's affairs in its order.

The wonderful thing about sympathy is that we never run out of it. There's no rule stopping us from being sympathetic to multiple plights at once, there's no law that necessitate things always exist on the good-evil binary. Yes, Zeus sentenced Prometheus to sufferation in Tartarus for what (to us) seems like a cruel reason. Prometheus only wanted to help humans! But when you think about Prometheus' actions from a king's perspective, the narrative is completely different: Prometheus stole divine knowledge and gifted it to humans after Zeus explicitly told him not to. And this was after Prometheus cheated all the gods out of a huge portion of wealth by having humans keep the best part of a sacrifice's meat while the gods must delight themselves with bones, fat and skin. Yes, Zeus gave Persephone away to Hades without consulting Demeter but what king consults a woman who is not his wife about the arrangement of his daughter's marriage to another king? Yes, Zeus breaks the marriage vows he set with Hera despite his love of her but what is the Master of Fate if not its staunchest slave?

The nuance is there. Even in his most bizarre actions, the nuance and logic and reason is there. The Ancient Greeks weren't a daft people, they worshipped Zeus as their primary god for a reason and they did not associate him with half the vices modern audiences take issue with. Zeus was a father, a visitor, a protector, a fair judge of character, a guide for the lost, the arbiter of revenge for those that had been wronged, a pillar of strength for those who needed it and a shield to protect those who made their home among the biting snakes. His children were reflections of him, extensions of his will who acted both as his mercy and as his retribution, his brothers and sisters deferred to him because he was wise as well as powerful. Zeus didn't become king by accident and it is a damn shame he does not get more respect.

[weepingfishturtledragon]

I love the idea of Billy and Cap being autistic! I think they would have trouble with eye contact, take things too literally, have almost zero social skills (exaggerated by being homeless and not in school), as well as vocal and movement stimming. Like Rosa or Victor asking Billy to "wash the pan in the sink" which is exactly what he does. He washes the pans but they actually wanted him to do all the dishes, Billy is just so confused!

Or Captain Marvel going to a Justice League meeting and needing to talk with Batman who is also autistic but he has hyper eye contact making it very awkward. A stressed Captain Marvel thinks he's in serious trouble and Batman is over analyzing which makes him think Cap is hiding something. (he is but Batman doesn't need to know that)

[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

There are only so many fanfics that use the entirety of DC as cardboard cutouts to prop up bat family characters that I can read before I go berserk.

I swear to god. Every character that has ever been shipped with a bat or coexists on the same team as a bat is owed an apology.

How many Young Justice fanfics that solely revolve around Tim must exist? How many Titans fanfics centered only on Dick? Why is it a herculean task to find a Justice League fanfic without Bruce as the main character?

And then even when you do find a fic that seems like it's balanced, everything still revolves around the bat. Like Kon, Cassie and Bart have nothing else going on in their lives except Tim and Tim's issues or thinking about Tim. Like Donna and Wally and Roy just cannot function if they aren't spending every waking moment thinking about Dick.

I'm... Guys. I'm at my limit. I swear to god. We need to make a Batman tag and surgically remove all these fics and quarantine them there. We'll keep the actual DC fics and they can do whatever the fuck they want in their own tag. It's getting ridiculous how hard it is to find fanfic that's actually DC related and isn't just 'The BatFam Show'.

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! Part 39 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Don't be mad at me, ok!

TW- talks of R*pe, SA, Violence, talks of assault, (please let me know if I missed any).

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, not hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @imusicaddict, @b00ks1ut , @mstiemountainhop, @awaterfalls, @lovememadly92 @lucyfromtheoldhouse @blueberry-ovaries, @next-autopsy anyone else please let me know.

It felt as if all the air had been sucked from the room. My body shook with each second that ticked by in silence. The room had frozen, I looked from face to face, each with its own horrified grimace or rage filled stare. I glanced over my shoulder, Bull and Martin still held me steady but their faces had paled in colour, Bull appeared as if he was going to be sick as Martin’s had turned from grey to crimson.  

No one uttered a word, the decision of what we were going to do hung on the Captain's shoulders. Speirs still hovered over the man, his glare set firm. He looked like a man ready to kill, and I was ready to see it happen. 

Speirs cocked his gun, the only sound that filled the room. I stilled. Waiting with anticipation, yes kill him! 

Speirs raised the gun to the man’s head, finger on the trigger. The men stepped back, turning away from the scene. But I watched never taking my gaze off the replacement, I wanted to watch the light leave his eyes. If Emily was really dead like he said, I needed to watch him die just like he had her. 

The thought alone almost broke me, he was the last face she saw. So many questions flooded my brain, did he drag it out? Did he make her suffer? What was she thinking of when she had died? The questions alone filled me with so much fury I clenched my teeth together so hard they felt as if they were going to crack. 

How was I going to survive if Emily wasn’t here? Speirs’ actions hushed my racing mind.  

Speirs stood still, raising the gun at the man, a slight tremor to his hand. I could see him fighting with his morals. But this was Speirs, the ruthless killer. Or were those just tales. The Speirs we had heard about wouldn’t have hesitated, he would’ve pulled the trigger without a blink of an eye. But I watched the Captain, as he stared down the man. The man that had killed multiple other people, had shot Grant, had raped my Emily and murdered her in cold blood. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t shoot the man who had done the most awful things to innocent people. So maybe they were just tales then.   

He pulled the gun back, the soldiers in the room letting out the breath they were holding. Speirs glanced down at his hand covered in the replacement's blood, he wiped it on the man’s shirt. Looking disgusted. He took off his hat, straightening himself. 

I couldn’t hold back anymore, I ripped free from my fellow soldier’s grip. Striding forward I took a hold of the Captain’s collar, I was foaming at the mouth with rage. 

“What are you doing?! Shoot him! Kill him!” Ron’s face remained neutral as if I wasn’t screaming in his face. 

“Malarkey, two wrongs don’t make a right.” Speirs slipped free from my grasp. 

“He killed people! He deserves to die! I thought you cared about Grant and Em?” I threw insult to injury, I wanted a reaction from him, he was too calm. 

Ron’s head whipped around as he stalked back to me. 

“I do care.” His finger prodded at my chest. “He’s a drunk piece of shit that should be held accountable for his crimes, killing him would be putting him out of his misery. I care for my soldiers, Emily included, and that is why I will not kill that man.” Ron’s voice echoed around the room. 

“But they're dead, he took them from us, so now we get to take what is owed.” I challenged him.  

“Have the MP’s take care of this piece of shit.” He ordered the other men standing around us, not giving me an answer. 

“Grant’s not dead Malarkey. His shot wasn’t fatal. I didn’t kill him, because I have every hope that Emily is still alive.” Ron didn’t let me utter another word, he turned on his heel marching from the room. 

“Grant’s alive?” Tab asked the Captain as he left. 

“Kraut surgeon says he’s gonna make it.” The Captain reported. 

“We have to go find her.” I tried to dart from the room but hands held me still. “We’re running out of time! Let me go!” But the man's hand never let me free. 

“LET GO OF ME!” I yelled, but Bull shook his head. 

“No, Don, we need to make a plan. You can’t go running off trying to find her by yourself.” Johnny said as the rest of the men nodded. 

“We don’t have time!” I argued. “She’s hurt, she’s alone.” 

“We know, but Don if we don’t think about this we are increasing her chances of not making it back.” 

“Don, we will find her, she’s tough!” Babe said from over Johnny’s shoulder. The rest of the men agreed. 

They started making plans of teams of people and where they would search for her. I sat staring at the door. Everyone’e voices fading into the background, why didn’t the two men who witnessed it say anything about her being with them. Why didn’t I check on her before we left? I should’ve had her with me in the first place. I was frustrated, and angry. 

How hurt was she? Was she still alive? What if she isn’t alive?

I felt like I was being suffocated. My breathing was shallow and fast. I was panicking. I couldn’t hear anything over my own pounding heart. 

“Ok so Lieb, Babe and Malark are going to go to the road.” I heard Johnny say, I didn’t even wait for him to finish, I was up and out of the room. I heard footsteps behind me as Lieb and Babe fell into step with me.

Emily POV:

“Captain Speirs! Captain Speirs!” I called running up to the man who had left the main building. 

It had taken me quite some time to walk back to the base after the replacement had driven away. I didn’t make it my mission to get back as fast as I could though. I used the silence of walking to process. 

I couldn’t really, it was too hard. It hurt too much. So I grounded myself as I walked, what could I see, hear, touch and smell. Every time I fell back into the event I would ground myself. For now it was something I would push to the back of my mind. The man looked shocked to see me, shit.

“Emily?” The man stopped in his tracks as I approached him. 

“Sir, is Grant alright?” I asked puffing from my run. 

“He’s alive.” He stated, his eyes scanning over me.

“Good! I’m glad! Th-the man?” I asked hesitantly. 

“MPs are sorting him.” I nodded, sighing. 

“Emily, he admitted he hurt you too.” He uttered softly. I nodded again, unsure of what to say. My left hand was clamped over my right shoulder, but I knew that wasn’t the injury he meant. 

“Right.” I hadn’t really thought of what I was going to say, I didn’t really think I was going to make it back. The last thing in my brain had been how I was going to deal with the consequences of his actions. I truly believed that this was my last night here on this earth.  

But here I was standing back at the base, in somewhat of one piece. 

“The replacement hurt me, yes.” I uttered. Ron looked weary, his eyes sunken into his face as lines of worry formed on his brow. 

“I’m ok though, I think.” I couldn’t see the one man who had been so steadfast in all my times of need, looking so distraught.    

Concern marred his face as I lied through my teeth. I wasn’t ok, but I was still breathing, that had to count for something. 

“Em, you don’t have to be brave.” Ron stepped forward, his hand coming to cup my cheek. I stared at the ground unable to look him in the eyes. I knew if I would I wouldn’t be able to hold it together. 

I took a deep breath trying to steady the swell of emotions that tightened my chest.

“I know.” I uttered, my voice not sounding as solid as I needed it to be. 

“Where are you injured?” Ron’s had still held my face, his fingers gingerly titling my chin up so that my gaze met his. 

“Shoulder, throat, cheek, I think that’s everything.” I stated my injuries like they were items on a grocery list. 

“He shot me in the shoulder, strangled me, and hit me over the head with his gun.” As well as violated my body and soul, but I didn’t add that to the conversation. I wanted to keep some semblance of dignity. 

“You need to be treated.” Ron replied in a monotone voice. 

I studied his features, his cold mask had slipped back and was set firmly into place, looking down at me as if I had only scraped my knee. But a flicker in his eyes told me all I needed to know, he was holding it together for me, but only by a thread. 

His stare looked ready to kill, the slight clench in his fist at his side before he flexed his fingers trying to shake loose the rage that rippled through his body. With each breath he took his nostrils flared, like an angry bull. Ron wanted to hurt someone, but he didn’t, for me.  

“The men are planning to look for you, I’ll tell them you’re back.” He turned quickly, going to head back into the main building. 

“Ron.” I called after him. 

At his name he froze, his back still facing away from me. 

“Let me tell them.” My voice was weak, I felt small again, I had been through war literally but in this moment I had never felt more vulnerable. 

Ron turned his eyes scanning me up and down taking in my demeanour. I stood straighter trying to show I was fine, but my face seemed to give me away. 

“I can tell them.” I tried again, putting some strength behind the words. 

Speirs hesitated before nodding. He marched off to where he was going in the first place before I interrupted.    

I took a deep breath before heading to the building I had been only hours before, happy and unaware of my horrific future. Funny how things could change so quickly.  

I made my way into the building, the foyer was empty, but I could hear voices murmuring. Following the sound of the voice I find the men huddled in the main lounge, before I can announce myself I am hit by a solid wall. 

My eyes travel up the figure I barged straight into, trying my best to hide the wince of pain that shoots through my shoulder from the impact. 

Wide-eyed and shocked Don stares down at me, looking at me like he’s seen a ghost. Babe and Lieb peer out from behind the man curious as to why he had stopped so abruptly. Their faces also pale at the sight of me. 

A tight smile finds its way onto my lips, trying to pretend that I am fine for the sake of the men who all look as if they are going to hurl. 

“Em.” Don says softly, moving forward slowly. 

“Hi.” My voice sounds hoarse, I swallow the sharp pain in my throat. 

“EM!” Web calls from behind Don, as he sees me, he surges forward with open arms. 

The sudden movement sent panic rising in my chest, I knew it was only Web but the alarm bells had already been raised. 

I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, as I gasped for air. My brain was only shouting one thing, survive! Survive! Survive!

I stumbled back, raising my hands to fend away his attack. 

“No!” I yelled hysterically. I pitched backwards, my back harshly colliding with the table behind me. The table tipped as the contents that were scattered over it clattered to the floor.  

My breathing was ragged, outstretched hands shook violently, the only sound I could hear was the erratic pounding of my heart. 

Web stopped in his tracks, watching me with concern on his face. As did the rest of the men, they looked at me like a wounded deer. 

I gagged, my stomach churning as it did so. I clutched my hand over my mouth and sprinted back out the front door. I desperately searched for somewhere to hide, I scrambled over to the hedges that framed the front of the property. Keeling over I emptied the contents of my stomach into the bushes. My hands clung to my pants as I reached, dry heaving until there was nothing left. 

A soft hand landed in the middle of my back causing me to turn around in fright. Don held his hands up showing me he was no harm. 

“Sorry, you startled me.” I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth. He stepped forward again but I raised my arm out keeping him at a distance. 

“Just let my panic attack finish and then you can touch me.” I begged, I hated that I had to push him away but I feared if anyone was to touch me at that moment it would trigger another episode. 

I knelt to the ground gracelessly, my jelly-like limbs not leaving much support. My shook with such vigour it chattered my teeth, my breaths were shallow and fast, as the waves of nausea made my head spin. 

Panic attacks weren’t uncommon for me, but I hadn’t had one this bad since my mum died. After she passed I had at least one a day for years. With some anti-anxiety meds and some therapy they finally died down. 

I practised my grounding techniques, focusing on slowing my breathing and distracting myself with my surroundings.    

“What can I do?” Don asked cautiously as he sat at my side. 

“Talk to me, tell me a story.” I said in between my breaths. 

“I will tell you about this girl I met-”

I peeked out of the corner of my eye and a confused look pinched my brow. Don chuckled. 

“Just listen before you get upset.” Don looked over at me, his charming smile shining through the darkness that clouded my mind, a simple gesture eased the pain slightly in my chest. I nodded confirming for him to go on. 

“I met this girl on a tank. She sat up front looking nervous and a bit shell shocked, and for some reason I just wanted to make her feel better. So I asked her where she was from, just to distract her, but I also wanted to see her face clearly in the daylight.” 

New tears welled in my eyes, but it wasn’t from the horrific events prior. He was telling me about the day we met. Right from the start he had only wanted to care for me, he didn’t even know me. 

“We talked for a bit before all hell broke loose, I was kind of in a daze after I had spoken to her. The way she smiled and laughed at my jokes, that’s all I wanted to make her do, smile.” 

I was so focused on his soft voice I forgot completely about the panic that had been strangling me from the inside. I felt my muscles relax and my heartbeat steady. 

“Then we were tossed into battle, she had been ordered to hang back and pick up the strays, but then all of a sudden she was in front of me tending to my best friend. She wasn’t the nervous girl I had met on the tank, she was a force to be reckoned with.” 

“Don.” I whispered. 

“Yeah?” He paused his story, turning to look at me. 

“Thank you.” Reaching out I took his hand that rested on the gravel we sat on. We sat silently, our hands intertwined looking up at the stars in the sky, his fingers brushing over the back of my hand in a soothing manner. 

“Em.” He breathed, I glanced over to him, his brown eyes glazed over as tears brimmed. 

I shifted forward, kneeling beside him as I took him into my embrace. His arms wrapped around my back as he held me tightly, burying his face into the crook of my neck. Don’s body shuddered as he wept, my fingers tangled into his hair as I pressed kisses to the side of his head. 

“I’m ok, Don. I’m ok.” I soothed him. 

“I could’ve lost you.” He pulled back, his wet tears stained his soft checks. Don’s eyes held so much sadness it broke my heart. 

“What would I do without you?” The comment made me think of my decision that loomed over my head. Was I staying or was I going if the time came. 

“I’m here, I’m safe. You have me.” I squeezed him tighter as he sniffed, his hand stroking down my back.   

“I’ll let the guys know you’re safe and then let’s get you to Doc.” He pulled away, letting me dry his tears with my fingers. I bent down pressing the softest kiss to his lips. 

Don’s POV:

I stopped in my tracks, trying not to run into the person who appeared in front of me. My heart almost burst from relief as I took in her face. She wore a blank expression, her cheek cut open and bruised, blood had stained the side of her face, but there were tear streaks that ran through the crimson. 

She gave me her tight lipped I’m-ok smile, which almost always meant she was not ok. I could tell she wasn’t ok just from her eyes. They looked haunted and lifeless. Em’s eyes usually sparkled with joy and light, now that light had been put out, and it killed me. 

“Em.” Her name fell from my lips with ease. I stepped forward slowly, like she was a scared kitten so skittish one false move would send her under the table. 

“Hi.” Her voice was hoarse. Her eyes searched mine, even from here I could see the horror of what they had endured. Web startled all of us, when he yelled her name, running towards her. 

The look of pure panic etched into her features. That moronic idiot didn't even notice until it was too late. She clung to the table, her body shaking as she gagged. Em’s face paled, her pupils  were so big you would think her eyes were black. 

The “no” that wretched itself free from her lips was haunting on its own. But paired with the way she had shaken her head so furiously trying to get her point across, crushed my heart right there in my chest. 

She didn’t feel safe. 

Web stopped, finally taking in her demeanour. But it was too late, she was already out the door quicker than anyone could yell for her to stop. 

Eyes fell on me, but I was already marching out the door, sending a glare over my shoulder in Web’s direction. 

I came outside to find her kneeling on the ground, her body heaved as she vomited. 

Em asked me to distract her, the only thing that came into my head is the first day we properly met. She had sat right on the front of the tank, nervously taking away to Bull, who had been distracted. I watched her realise that he wasn’t listening and let her conversation die on her tongue. 

She nervously shook her leg, even from behind I could see her shoulders were tense as she tried to find anything to distract her. So I had, it was more for selfish reasons really. I wanted to be the one she nervously rambled too, not Bull. 

The whole tank ride we had spoken to each other, she talked so animatedly, her bright blue eyes shining in the warm sun and her rosy cheeks that flushed when I told her jokes. Em was the most beautiful person I had ever seen, inside and out. I think I had fallen in love with her then. 

But then I got closer to her, she made friends with my friends and I found she was the only thing that I could think of, day and night, it was only ever her.  

But I hadn’t told her all of that. I couldn't form the words. 

I sat beside her until she had declared it was over. Pain still haunted her eyes. I was losing her again. I had just gotten her back. I couldn’t lose her. I needed her. I don’t think she even knew the impact she had on me. 

I remembered one night when she woke screaming from her nightmares, she said she had felt selfish. I dismissed her idea immediately. Never had she ever been selfish, she gave everything to me, she leaned on me when she needed and I did the same with her. 

I’m sure she didn’t even notice when she was doing it. Her small jokes, the way she touched me gently, her look of concern and care, the way her eyes found mine in every room she walked into. We looked after each other from the very start.

Em was a light in the darkness. But even sunshine could be covered by clouds. 

I told her I would inform the men she was safe and then take her to get treated for her injuries. I’m sure they had questions, we all did. But she would tell us with time. We wouldn’t push her.

**************************************

Chapter 40

[bucket-puns]

Quick af doodles of Ishmael and queequeg because Everytime I happen to think about anything Abt the prequod MFS n Ishmael I start becoming a sickly widow.

[licorishh]

i love og soap too much. my stomach hurts. i don't feel good.

[edwardallenpoe]

Hey. Just wanted to put my two cents in, like everyone else on Tumblr dot com is. (It got pretty long so putting it under a cut)

I don't really care about what you think should happen to the fandom. Like. If you are going to continue to engage in the fandom without giving Neil any sort of gain is fine. I'm personally still on the fence on what the fuck to do now. But let's not make that the whole focus, yeah? What Neil allegedly did was fucking terrible. Like. Objectively worse than what JKR did when things first came out about her. Let's forget good omens and sandman and coraline for a minute (don't care if you still engage with those things or burn your copies and remove your tattoos, let's just put it down for a minute.) and try really hard to think. Because we all hated JKR. We burned her reputation to the ground. For good reason. But we can't even decide if we hate Neil Gaiman yet? Guys. Please. We have to believe all women. Plus he's a rich fucking white dude who has admitted to using his power for gain.

And if it turns out (which this is a 8% chance) that this is all not what it seems to be, or even all of it is fabricated, and Neil is innocent, we still gotta stop worshipping this dude. This has got to be a wakeup call that he's not some Messiah. He's a human dude in power who does the same shitty things human dudes in power do.

And I get it. You want to continue to like your stories that he helped create (key-word 'helped' bc he was a part of a team with a lot of these stories, including Sir Terry Pratchett) but me personally? I would be a massive hypocrite if I metaphorically burned my Harry Potter stories to the ground and put HP fans in my DNI because of JKR but said "separate the art from the artist" with Neil Gaiman.

And this is coming from any other Good Omens fan that became way too attached to the story. Like a lot of people have said that story helped in very. Very fucking trying times. It was my rock, some days the only thing keeping me going. The fandom has been an amazing place of creativity and community and love.

But so was Harry Potter. If you think about it. If any Good Omens fans were previous Harry Potter fans you'll know just how wide spread and open and creative and deep the hp fandom was. And this may just be me misremembering because it was a couple years ago at this point (plus everything with Neil Gaiman is still such news) but because JKR was spouting rhetoric that directly harmed us (us being majority queer and poc people) we drop-kicked hp pretty fast and focused on the artist and her shittiness.

Can we have the same attitude towards Neil? Can we separate the art from the artist long enough to fucking focus on Neil? When I say separate the art from the artist I don't mean "remove artist, continue to enjoy art" I mean "remove the art and focus on the artist, and study that motherfucker". How many video essays are their out about JKR? How many books referencing her terribleness? Without giving so much as a hint to Harry Potter?

Separate the art from the artist and focus on the artist and bringing him to justice. And believe the victims.

And yeah I can see your arguments against the source of the information and who the victims went to tell their stories, I can understand those arguments, but let's look at the data, okay? Let's look at what Scarlett and K actually said with their actual words and their actual messages and separate the source from the material. What Scarlett and K talked about is scary. Terrifying. I couldn't even read more than a little bit before I got triggered. I wasn't caring about how the source podcast was talking about it. What Scarlett and K said with their own words should be enough. Make your own judgements. If you can't look at a story without being influenced by the storyteller's hidden agenda and not have critical thinking skills????? I'm sorry but that's going to be your downfall.

Or better yet, if you can't believe victims because they have political views that differ from your own (which, they probably don't. From what I can tell nobody really fucking knows what Scarlett and K's political views are but it doesn't really matter) you need to really study and look into what you mean when you call yourself a "leftist". Because it's not very progressive or helpful to not believe or help victims because of their political views. Sorry. Is that wild for me to say? Idk

Uh anyways. I don't really care what you do in your free time when it comes to enjoying the fandoms. I don't necessarily think it makes you a terribly shitty person for still engaging in it instead of burning all your Neil Gaiman stories, and also like a lot of people have said (and since I'm on the same boat) treating fans like the scum of the earth when a lot of fans have had good omens as a way to escape and has become super dependent on good omens and are justifiably horrified by everything and trying to ignore it is shitty. But I'm personally going to continue to follow this story because I care about the victims. Not because I want to be guilt-free reading a fanfic about an angel and a demon. Because I care about real life people.

[tenojan-in-tevinter]

I think if Anders didn't talk about Justice like he's some crazed animal, a friend he once knew and never will again that turned evil, if he didn't discount Justice as still a person, if there was some kind of direct dialogue between them... Justice would be far more reasonable in the heat of the moment, and he would probably go Murder Mode less often and he and Anders would have co-control of their body instead of fighting each other for the wheel constantly. I think Hawke (in a romance with them) should help them figure this out. Especially a mage Hawke. Justice isn't just going to go away, Anders needs to accept that vengeance has always been a part of Justice, and there's never a time when it won't be. Like he himself says "Justice is righteous. Justice is hard."

[lupins-hehim-pussy]

I wanna know ur Fontaine msq criticisms 👁️👁️👂I’m all ears

I'm not sure if you wanted me to talk about this secretly or publicly but! Here I go!

The TLDR: Fontaine MSQ aestheticised prison, poverty, child abuse, the justice system/court and didn't properly address any of it.

More:

Focalors/Furina has way too much of a sympathetic angle for a dictator who's lets people drown with her inaction.

Neuvillette feels Bad for sentencing some people to death/prison, but that's it. He's one of the most powerful people in Fontaine. If he felt like there are systemic injustices, I.E sending an abused Child to prison, he should be the first person to DO something about it, not just cry and be sad so the audience can be like aw, that's complex character writing isn't it? No it's not! And guilt doesn't absolve you!!!!!!! (These are stuff we deal with in OTCOJ read my fic now /j)

Meropide has children in it, both Sentenced there (Wriothesley) and BORN THERE (Lanoire), and this is just a quirk of the place. Not only that, Meropide accepts prisoners of all genders and crimes. There are abusers and abuse victims in one place. Do you know how bad that is? How much potential for crimes to happen in a place like that— oh wait, Meropide isn't under Fontaine's jurisdiction. If you are assaulted as an inmate it literally means nothing to the court.

Wriothesley had no qualifications when he took over. Depending on how long he lived on the streets, how old he was when he killed his parents, how old he was when he was first taken in by the orphanage, etc, the man might never have more than 4–5 years of formal education. Sigewinne probably had to teach him how to write reports. And do Meropide's spreadsheets. Edit because I forgot to elaborate on this one: This isn't a point brought up anywhere, which is bad, because when poverty and incarceration robs you of a proper education (and the rights to vote in many places too, too, by the way), it reduces your prospects for jobs, reduces many people's ability to get a home etc etc. Wriothesley was just, narratively, Given his position.

Meropide is an industrialized prison, and they portray this as a good thing. Prisoners are paid in coupons for their labour, and this is also portrayed as a good thing.

The One-Meal-A-Day reform was something Paimon gushed about being so great of a perk, that people might want to go to jail for food (could be interesting and reflective of systemic poverty if MHY had brains, but they don't, so I was just Pissed because essentially all Paimon wanted to say was "Prison isn't so bad, but still don't go to prison guys! Prison labour is really hard!"). By the way, in most real-world prisons they are obligated to feed you three meals a day. Because that's how much food a human needs. MHY went with one meal just so they can say "if you want to eat more, you have to work." And then the welfare meal is a goddamn gacha. So imagine you're a starving child who's too weak to work in the fucking robot assembly line, and you wander up for your first meal in 24 hours, only to luck in with a shit one. I'd kill myself.

They wrote Wriothesley, who's a victim of the system, into a guy who's say shit like "I'm the Duke I can do whatever I want" for a cool moment where he choke-slams an inmate (I know he was a bad guy. But also, in copaganda when cops are violent/disregarding protocols, they are always only portrayed to do that against bad guys, so what does our critical thinking tells us about this one?) They wrote Wriothesley, who was an inmate of a prison so bad, so notorious that it is the literal boogeyman of Fontaine, that has a legal (???) fighting pit, with an administrator who abuses his position to be unreasonable, to willingly stay in the place and become an Administrator who would choke-slam an inmate while saying a cool line about how he has the power to do whatever he wants. They wrote him, the guy who had to be fed on the streets by melusines, to think one-meal-a-day was a good enough reform (while he spends god-knows how much on his boat). This wasn't a victim-turns-into-abuser narrative either, they want all this to be seen as positive character growth.

And then, the final kicker is, they gloss over his entire abuse. You can only read about these shit in his profile, which most people don't because they don't Have Him or doesn't care to unlock it/read it online, and they jammed his entire backstory into a flaccid info-dump at the end of his character story quest. This man isn't Allowed to feel abused and neglected and show any reaction to it within the narrative of Fontaine itself, because if they actually Gave Weight to what happened to him, they'd have to confront THE FUCKING JUSTICE SYSTEM they had NO PLANS on criticising. I don't think they ever explicitly said the fucking Crime-Theatre nonsense was Bad either.

I could go on, but this is already so long. But yeah, I hope this gave you an idea.

[bonefall]

And not all DC fans are mad! I was happy when Leafpool beat Starfire, and I was pleased with Bumble winning too. (Epilepsy dad here, who is a comics fan, and has 4 kids who love reading the warrior cat books and have the Minifig warriors become superheroes In the Gotham city I hot as a kid) im digressing here: What keeps the warrior cats fandom strong is how you all form up around the cats that were mistreated by the writers, how you bring them into your homes and hearts and make better features for them. My Amuma always used to say if enough people believed in something, then maybe their will can change the world.

Always good to see you around!

This vitriol has been super disappointing, y'know? I feel like I have to keep stressing that DC fans are valid, their frustrations with the comics are well-founded, and Bumble's opponents should also be acknowledged as victims of misogyny

And then we don't get that grace back! Doesn't matter that Warriors is a best-selling kids' series with REALLY harmful messages in it read by millions across the globe. Bumble's "just a cat" and we're "reading too much into it." As if that's not the same shit that gets said about misogyny in media broadly; "They're not real, comics are just for fun, you're reading too much into it"

Now people are like "Oh it was a mistake for WARRIOR CATS to be in this poll" because they're mad our "just a cat" is winning. Like it's not a tournament and that's the whole point. We've got people trying to say that Bumble can't even have misogyny happen to her because the human writers superficially made her a cat, as if she's not a fantasy character like every other fantasy character she's been up against.

But, ugh. I won't let it stop me, y'know? StarClan gives its hardest battles to its strongest warriors ✨✨I will never shut up about the "justa cats," this fandom rocks exactly because of the fact we're so passionate about these issues and how to address and fix them, Bumblesweep FOREVER!

[daz4i]

sometimes i fear i am filled with too much rage but then i go online and see. people so dedicated to their anger it is practically their entire existence. are you not tired? do you not feel consumed by it? it's okay to let go. your passion can still be expressed through other feelings as well. flames of emotion do not always have to burn you to ashes. please rest a bit and let them just pleasantly warm you

[coquelicoq]

part of the process of learning to take responsibility for your actions is learning what things you can't take responsibility for. not just to protect you (e.g., from your own feelings of guilt; from people taking advantage of your willingness to take responsibility by attributing blame to you unfairly), but because to take responsibility is not just to say "it was my fault and i'm sorry" but to actually do things (to make amends and to mitigate and prevent future harm), and if you don't understand what to take responsibility for, you aren't going to understand how to take responsibility.

there is a lot that's outside of your control. people put a lot of emphasis on forgiveness in a way that i think is missing the point. being forgiven is not my priority. my priority is that i am doing what it is in my power to do. i can't control how that's received. i'd like it to be received well; i'm doing what i'm doing because i want to repair harm that i have caused to another person, so it matters to me if what i'm doing is actually achieving that goal or not. but there's only so much that i can do to achieve that goal, and if i'm doing it, and the harm is not repaired, that's okay. that's beyond my control. i have to make my peace with the fact that i've caused harm to another person that is not resolved, because i'm doing what i can and i have to continue living on this earth, and in continuing to live i'm going to be living with the fact of that unresolved harm. the most important thing at that point is for me to use my knowledge of the specific ways in which my actions harmed that person to change my behavior going forward to avoid causing that harm again, to the extent that that's within my power.

it doesn't do anyone - you or the people you have harmed - any good for you to assign responsibility to yourself for things that you can't control. if you're going to attempt the active work of repair and change you have to first identify what it's possible to repair and change. you can't actually repair a relationship all by yourself! you can only change your own behavior. you can only offer amends to the other person that they may or may not find sufficient. not to go all serenity prayer on you but guilt for the sake of guilt just makes you feel way more powerful than you actually are (because you think that everything happened because of you) and at the same time completely incapable of exercising your power (because you don't understand what your power actually is). to effect change you have to focus on the things you can actually change. focusing on the things you can't change is a problem not just because it's taking your focus away from the things you can change, but because it means you don't actually understand the sphere of your own influence. you're operating under what is essentially a self-centered worldview in which you could make everything better, you could prevent all harm, if only you were trying harder, if only you were a better person. who does that serve? it doesn't reflect reality. it makes you hate yourself and feel sorry for yourself at the same time, and it doesn't actually improve things for the people you harmed. it doesn't help keep you from harming people in the future, because you don't understand the territory and the limits of the causal relationship between your actions and other people's reactions to them.

you can only do what you can do. what you can't do, you can't do, and you can't take responsibility for doing, either in the past or present. after you realize that there is harm to repair the next step in the process of repair is to ask yourself what your responsibility is for the past and what your agency is going forward. everything else will follow from that. you simply cannot skip that step.