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wombywoo · 2 months

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do you have any ghostsoap favorite fics, perhaps?

boy do I....

I should preface this by saying that I'm pretty...particular with what types of fics I enjoy reading (I only like certain character interpretations/tropes/writing styles, etc) so bear with me...

These are all mostly canon-compliant, non-AUs, ones that I regard highly~

Seasons--by StinglessWasp: This is pretty much my go-to fic rec for anyone into CoD and ghostsoap in general. It showcases everything I love about these characters, in a setting that feels as authentic to the games as possible, while also exploring the depth and sincerity hidden under the surface. So well-written and paced--the dialogue and military references all contribute to that 'feels like a mission out of the game' experience. Plus, I just love this interpretation of our boys--the humor, the inner struggles, the intimacy--Wasp 100% *gets* these characters and it's a joy to read <3

Except You, You Can Stay--by Iravaid: While this one isn't *technically* ghostsoap until the last chapter, in my opinion, it's required reading for anyone who gives a shit about Simon Riley. This is *the* character study--an intimate dissection of Ghost's past that seems so realistic and grounded, you forget how ludicrous those comics really are. Ira takes such care in treating these heavy topics with delicacy and effectiveness. Each chapter has you going 'oh wow, this is even better than the last', but as a whole--it's a stunning, fleshed-out glimpse into Simon as the character he was always meant to be. And the final chapter which eases you into his relationship with Johnny is so authentic and sweet, it just makes perfect sense that they should be together, and that this poor poor man deserves some goddamn love <3

bleeding in the house of god--by revolvermonkcelot: This is a really great 'missing scene' fic, a perfect opportunity to explore the in-between moments that the game so carelessly chooses to gloss over. I can't praise Monk's writing enough--it's slick and crisp and very tasty; the imagery just jumps off the page and you can practically feel the sweat. Plus, the dialogue exchanges between our two boys are so well-timed and in-character--love all the slang and British references~ This whole fic reads like an addition to their mission flirting, and I'm all for it! You can truly tell this author has such deep understanding and experience with this franchise (winkwinkwink, this is a joke) Read it--it's good!

The Dead are all Living--by Kabbal: This fic blew me away when I first read it. It's such a unique take on the retirement trope, I just adore this interpretation of Simon as an aging recluse while he builds his home. I tend to lean towards more subtle, grounded characterizations of Mr Riley, and this really fits the bill. All of these glimpses and fragments into his post-military life contribute to an overarching love story; the scenes with Johnny are so poignant, it's like you're pining alongside them both. I love how not-perfect they are; flawed and difficult and real. There are some moments and lines that just....struck something in me so deeply. I'm sure I'll still be thinking about it for a long long time <3

Portrait of Taction--by a_platypus: Another Simon-centric fic that I absolutely love. The character voice in this is off the charts, I can hear him so vividly in all of his inner dialogue and stunted attempts at conversation. Simon is so endearingly dense in this fic, you're just waiting for him to finally get his act together, but the clumsy, oblivious steps he takes in his relationship with Soap are truly a treat to read. I love this version of Johnny too--confident and considerate, but still hopelessly crushing on his superior. It's comedic, well-written, and the paragraphs describing Soap's journal give some of the best insights into his character I've seen <3

come on, haunt me--by flyby2: This was a really good long fic that I took my time savoring. What could have been a typical 'on leave' fic instead took time to develop a unique spin on the backstories as well as throwing our boys into some wholesome encounters. Both Soap and Ghost felt very true to character, and I appreciate the exploration of PTSD and the subsequent struggles that come along with...all that. There was a really nice balance in having their romance spread across the chapters, and I can promise a very sweet, happy conclusion <3

in the mess of it all--by flowersferns: A lovely one-shot that exhibits some of my favorite aspects of these two characters. I'm a sucker for 'one of them is hurt, the other is freaking out, they are both idiots in love, etc'. There are some really great dialogue and character moments in this, plus the overall prose hits hard. Love this take on their romance--the mutual trust, the familiarity of their bond. And just the general theme of impermanence--the inevitability of what this relationship means for them--two soldiers, willing and ready to sacrifice their lives at a moment's notice, still clinging to each other because...god...that's all they have---big fan of this :'D <3

Lapsus--by Lisbetadair: Another really great one-shot and 'missing scene' fic. The authenticity in the writing is spot-on--it's like you can feel Soap's pain right off the bat. I love how smoothly the banter flows between the two, and the attention to detail and references all help lend to that 'hardened military man' exterior. Ghost smelling like flowers because of a face wipe is such a delightful addition, plus the scene where Soap is, ah, donald-ducking it in just a t-shirt with his jewels out is such a funny mental image, I still think of it fondly from time to time. It's funny, it's surprisingly cute, it's very in-character. Stick around for some awkward but adorable cuddles <3

I'm sure I have more to recommend, but these are the ones I can personally endorse for now~

#asks #fic rec #I've never actually done a fic rec list like this before...#a small glimpse into my nightly routine of browsing the ao3 trenches for something remotely readable 🫡#funny how most of these are Ghost centric...#I'm *very* particular on how I prefer Soap to be portrayed and wooo boy...is it a struggle 😔

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gaslightgatekeepgirlbosscombat · 7 months

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Group G, Round 2, Poll 8:

Propaganda under the cut

Taylor Hebert / Skitter

Gaslight: She’s constantly gaslighting herself, like seriously all the time. Mainly because she couldn’t properly process her own emotions to save her life. ‘I’m totally fine after doing [fucked up thing]. Totally fine. It was my only option, and definitely not a result of my own deep-seated trauma affecting the way I perceive and interact with the world around me. Plus it’s not like it was even *that* fucked up. Actually, it was definitely the most moral choice in that situation. I had no other option. They forced my hand’. No they fucking didn’t Taylor. You had tons of other options, you’re just too much of a traumatized mess to recognize them. And *Worm* is well-written enough that, because we’re constantly seeing things from her fucked up point of view, we believe her. Especially when she describes events slightly yet very significantly differently from how they actually *textually* occurred previously in the text, but not so obviously that the readers notice without it being pointed out to them. It’s only during interludes from the POVs of other characters that we get a view of her without that lens of self-delusion. Gatekeep: Probably the weakest of the three for her, but somebody else could probably tell you more. Girlboss: She has the power to control bugs, with perfect coordination, infinite multitasking, and even proprioception. What does she do with that (in no particular order)? Rot somebodies dick off. Stick flies up his urethra. Eat his eyes with your bugs after he’s already disabled. Stick bullets ant up somebodies anus. Have bugs clean off the sweat and other material immediately after losing your virginity. Use your bugs to to drive a car through a city post-disaster while blind, without anybody else realizing you’ve been blinded. Get stabbed in the shoulder through bone, and proceed to monologue to the stabbed without showing any signs of pain. Line up bugs on people your shooting at with bugs on your gun to give you pinpoint accuracy. Hide massive amounts of bugs in the folds and crevices of your body, as well as in in your hair. Join a gang of supervillains. Carve out somebodies eyes. Turn butterflies into an instrument of terror. Kill a baby. You know, just completely normal things for a barely 16 (pre-timeskip) / not-quite 18 (post-timeskip) year old girl to do (most of these were pre-timeskip).

[copied from @lakesbian so credit to them]

*rotting a guy's dick off with brown recluses. on accident. *realizing due to her accident that it's actually pretty effective to put bugs on genitals and starting to threaten people with putting tapeworms up their asses on purpose. and also putting bugs up asses and peeholes on purpose. really if theres an orifice she puts bugs up there on purpose *dips her bugs in capsaicin before putting bugs up orifices on purpose so it hurts more. [skitter voice]i just dipped every tarantula hawk wasp in my villainous lair in liquid pepper spray so nows not the time to get stupid with my ass *using spider silk to create rube-goldberg machines of suffering i.e hauling a dude 3 stories up into the air and then dropping him, shattering all of his limbs on impact. all while casually holding a conversation w/ someone else *using centipedes to hollow another villain's eyes out and then putting maggots inside and just Leaving Them There with the intent of the heroes she hands the villain over to finding the maggots later and being scared of her *killed parahumans' wonder woman equivalent by putting bugs in her lungs and then using those bugs to make silk in her lungs to block out airflow. while monotone-quoting something wonder woman had said to threaten her earlier back at her as she died. wonder woman wasn't even in the room to hear it she just did it anyway. *only time she has ever successfully been jailed is when she turned herself in on purpose *made a phone call using bugs once. not villainous but very funny and iconic *used bugs to swang around a disintegration knife on a massive length of silk, killing like 50 people instantly, because she wanted one (1) person in the room dead and was willing to just shotgun that shit until it worked out for her. and then immediately after proceeded to think of herself as "not much of a fighter." because she has psychological issues. *mind-control kidnapped several thousand people once *literally made fun of god's dead girlfriend until he got suicidal and died about it *drove a car. blind. using bugs. no one realized she was blind for like 12 hours because she's a bug freak superorganism of a girl who walked around using bugs to triangulate perfectly w/o vision. also not villainous but still iconic *wanted to put 10000 black widow spiders in a shared villainous base to make costumes out of spider silk w/ and when the other dude who lived there was like "wtf can we not??" she was like "huh that's surprising. you don't want 10000 black widow spiders in your home? why? are you arachnophobic or something?" because she's a freak. *fucked, got up, and immediately made several hundred bugs crawl across her naked ass body to clean her off. because she's a freak. her boyfriend has had spiders on his dick he's just going to have to live with this *literally psychologically cannot refrain from putting bugs in the hair and clothing of everyone within a several block radius to keep track of them at all times because she's a panopticonic freak. like i'm talking "her friends occasionally talk to bugs they see under the assumption that it's her spying on them, and they're Right" level panopticonic freak. she rocks. *did i mention she's 15. world's most autistic freak 15yo dissociates hard enough to kill god more at 7

Regina George

Mean Girls became a template for high school drama movies, Regina being the meanest of the titular "mean girls"

#round 2 #group g #worm #parahumans #taylor hebert #skitter #Regina George #Mean Girls

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platinumink · 1 year

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Kang the Conquerer in Antman and the Wasp: Quantumania might have been the good guy!!

(Or at least the least evil villain in this story... so hear me out! :))

I just went out to see Antman and the Wasp: Quantumania with my family and my father, who has never seen a single Marvel movie, just had the greatest speculation in the world!

Imagine: The first post credit scene showed three main Kang Variants disputing the matter of the exiled Kangs fate which resulted in them calling every single one of the remaining Kang Variants. Now, think about the short scene where Janet touched Kangs mind (and therefore most likely the other Kang's minds). And lastly, think of the way Kang asked her multiple times about what she saw and how they never had time to talk about what she had seen.

Now here's the thing my father pointed out:

What if the Kang in Quantumania was the Kang they SHOULD have let free? What if the other Kangs exiled that particular Kang because he wanted to STOP the other Kangs? What if Janet had seen what the other Kangs had done and what that Kang was trying to stop? This would make a lot more sense than just all the other remaining Kangs exiling that one Kang because he was following the same mindset. Maybe it was all just a big misunderstanding?

This especially makes sense if you include the ending of Quantumania in this debate, where Scott "overthinks" what has happened and guesses (right) that other Kangs will come and bring destruction upon the world.

Please give me some pieces if your mind in the comments. To me, this makes so much sense. xD

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keeskiwi · 3 months

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I had a transgenderization surgery 1 month ago and I got the clear to stop wearing my post-op binder yesterday, and I keep feeling the desire to write out my thoughts somewhere but not knowing where, and then I remembered tumblr is The transgender website, so, you know, why not.

I had a double incision top surgery on January 30th. It feels pretty surreal in some ways. I first started experimenting with gender things in late 2010, grabbed a binder from Underworks in 2011, then kind of coasted along in a state of "well, a haircut, name change, and some new clothes have been working out for me mostly well enough and my breasts aren't that big anyway and maybe it's not a big deal even though every year I'll research if I can make my insurance cover it just in case and daydream a bit about something horrible happening that would require my breasts to get removed, with a side of quietly burning with envy when I see someone else get medical care for their dysphoria." For. A while.

Late 2022 I finally decided I would bring it up with my doctor, and after over a year of horrible insurance wrangling I finally ended up with a consult in early January, and then suddenly they called me back and said they could squeeze me in by the end of the month.

January 30th I got up at early-o-clock, went to the hospital, met my surgery team, got knocked out, and woke up with a new chest. I'm really glad I didn't have to travel for surgery and was back home that evening. Between that and having two partners (one of whom has had top surgery himself) to care for me afterwards, I feel really grateful.

Anyway yeah, this was the most significant surgery I've had before. It was your standard double incision, although I opted to go without nipple grafts, for a couple reasons:

I had heard that nips were kind of tricky healing-wise, and as a health-anxiety-prone kind of person I didn't really need the extra fear of something going wrong there in my life.

Especially because I didn't have any particular attachment to the idea of nipples in the first place. Sometimes I wonder if this was an extension of wearing a vaguely skin-tone binder for the past decade+. Any time I saw myself with a flattened chest, it was without nipples, because they were being hidden by the binder ha.

Additionally, a thing I've struggled with wrt medical transition is that it often feels like the goal for my agab is to transition towards masculinity, and while I'm okay being mistaken as male (especially over being mistaken as female) it's actually kind of important to me that I'm...not male? Masculinity as gender neutrality is something that really irritates me. I'm not any flavor of trans guy. So going no-nips felt like a way to make a conscious change to my body that was perpendicular to the masculinity/femininity binary.

And finally, while exploring the concept I found out that some people really hate the idea of people transitioning to having nippleless chests, because to be human is to have nipples (I guess?) so removing your nipples was trying to remove yourself from humanity (I??? guess???) and while there's a LOT to unpack there, as someone with only a passing identification with the concept of humanity I found this appealing in a "don't threaten me with a good time" kind of way.

Maybe I'll just get tattoos of wasps there instead.

The first time I saw myself at my first post-op was like--my chest is covered in incisions and tape and dried blood and marker and swelling but somehow it was still the most comfortable and appealing thing I had ever seen, and I keep feeling kind of amazed? I think that I had been really focused on like, specific Things I Could Do Post-Top Surgery, like wearing better-fitting T-shirts or taking my shirt off during the summer when it was hot, and I didn't fully realize just how...good it would be just existing? At first I thought it was hyperbolic thinking, but the more I consider it the more I feel that I've spent more time voluntarily looking at and interacting with my chest in the past month than I have the whole rest of my life. Some of it was forced aftercare from the surgery of course, but I lose a bunch of time each day just getting caught in front of mirrors. I didn't realize that I could like the way I look under my clothing so much.

And things like, realizing I've been saying "my chest [euphemistic, regretful]" in regards to my breasts my whole life, so I keep wanting to say "I don't have a chest anymore"--but the thing is, I do! I do have a chest still, and "my chest" is now something I feel happy to claim because I got to choose it. It's a little ouchy and lumpy and at the moment it looks like someone taped poison ivy to it because my skin finally got sick of the surgery tape and staged a revolt, but it's still the best chest I've had in living memory, and it's only going to get better from here.

I'm just really happy.

#in which I ramble #top surgery

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rebeccathenaturalist · 2 years

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Are Insects Pests? On Loving the Unloved

(Originally posted at my blog at https://rebeccalexa.com/are-insects-pests-on-loving-the-unloved/)

I do a lot of internet searches in the process of writing my articles and books, putting together class materials, and so forth. Sometimes the subject of insects comes up, and that often includes researching individual species. What gets me is how often some of the first search results won’t be informational sites, but those dedicated to labeling insects “pests” and eradicating them. I get that some species are potentially more problematic when found in or around someone’s home; cockroaches and bedbugs come to immediate mind. But again and again, regardless of what sorts of insects I was searching for, many times the results included exterminator sites.

The fact that so many of the highest search results are dedicated to killing insects suggests there’s a lot of demand for such services and products. It makes me sad, honestly, because we’re right in the middle of an insect apocalypse. There’s already a lot of apathy about conserving invertebrates in general, and “bugs” in particular; many folks simply don’t get why it’s so important to protect the creepy-crawlies of the world. And when it’s common for any insect found in a house to be routinely smashed and discarded without a second thought, regardless of species, “save the bugs!” may seem like an ineffective rallying call indeed.

But let’s look at a few of those search results first, shall we?

My favorite search engine is Ecosia; I have it set up as my default search engine in my browser. They use the profits from ads to plant trees, and as of this writing they’ve planted over 150 million trees. I use Google as a backup, if Ecosia’s results aren’t getting me what I want.

The other day I wanted to know about wasp species in Washington. So I searched Ecosia for “Washington wasp species”, and the ninth result on the first page was a pest control site:

Google was even worse. It took scrolling down only to the third result on the first page to end up with a pest control site:

Okay, so wasps don’t exactly have a great P.R. team., and media furor over the Asian giant hornet (Vespa mandarinia) didn’t help the results become any friendlier, either. I figured I’d try a few more very general searches just to see how long it took to hit a pest control site or other site that talked about eradicating the insects I was searching for:

True Bugs: Ecosia 8th on page 1, Google 1st on page 2

Bees: Ecosia 3rd on page 1, Google 3rd on page 1

Grasshoppers: Ecosia 2nd on page 2, Google 5th on page 1 (this was without filtering out things like the Grasshoppers Minor League Baseball team)

Crickets: Ecosia 3rd on page 1, Google 3rd on page 1

Weevils: Ecosia 1st on page 1, Google 2nd on page 1 (never mind that the vast majority of weevils are harmless to us and our food.)

Beetles: Ecosia 1st on page 2, 4th on page 1

Oregon Beetle Species: Ecosia 1st on page 2, Google 4th on page 1

Unsurprisingly when I searched for “fireflies” and “butterflies”, I went back several pages on both search engines and didn’t find anyone advocating for the mass slaughter of these beloved insects. You’d think bees would get the same treatment what with all the “save the bees” campaigns over the past few years, but the 3rd result from both search engines was from a site called “Pest World for Kids”, run by the National Pest Management Association. Really?

Okay, so admittedly this was definitely NOT a scientific study. And I recognize there are a number of factors determining search results, SEO, etc. like how large and popular a given site is, age of the site, backlinks, etc. Still, given how high up in the ranking sites treating insects as pests were, and how many of the recommended related searches had to do with things like whether the insects being searched for would bite, or how to get rid of them, that suggests a lot of people are searching for how to go to war with insects rather than learning about them as unique beings.

On the bright side, most of the results were site that genuinely wanted to educate people about various insects on their own merits. So it’s not as though everything is terrible (unless you’re a weevil, for whom almost all the top search results were pest-related.) Whether those sites got as many genuine clicks as the pest-related ones, I couldn’t tell you. But it was nice to see them anyway.

Maybe I’m in the minority when I wish that people would spend less time trying to eradicate insects, and more time learning about them. It’s just that most folks seem to ignore them unless they become a perceived nuisance. I’ve had to deal with problem insects before–narcissus bulb flies (Merodon equestris) in the garden, pantry moths (Plodia interpunctella) in the flour, etc. And yes, sometimes that involves smushing them on sight, especially in the case of a non-native species.

But I also try to make an effort to learn about even these species. It’s not just to learn how to get rid of them, but to find out more about their adaptations and habits, where they came from, what makes them different from other insects–what makes the species what it is. It’s curiosity that drives me, and I find myself appreciating their ability to find a niche, even if it’s one that’s at odds with my own interests.

It also makes me really think about whether I really need to persecute a particular species, and how that affects my attitudes toward not just insects, but other living beings. When I stop and consider my actions toward another species, it breaks the conditioning that so many of us have to just see nature as something to serve us–only good if it does what we want, and bad if it goes against our wants and needs. And I find myself being able to make a more informed decision that, at times, may be summed up as “leave well enough alone.”

Hence the nest of black-tailed bumblebees (Bombus melanopygus) that has spent multiple years buzzing about the entryway of my garage. Hence the common house spiders (Parasteatoda tepidariorum) that are allowed space in the corners and window-wells of my home to help control flies that may buzz their way in on warm days. Hence the cabbage looper caterpillars (Trichoplusia ni) who get a reprieve in the garden, even though they go after cruciferous vegetables, because they never take everything, and they’re important food for other species. Some would easily justify my killing these and many others, simply for being mildly inconvenient, or just being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But I prefer to coexist whenever possible, and to look beyond the “pest” label as well.

Did you enjoy this post? Consider taking one of my online foraging and natural history classes, checking out my other articles, or picking up a paperback or ebook I’ve written! You can even buy me a coffee here!

#long post #insects #invertebrates #bugs #arthropods #science #nature #scicomm #science communication #gardening #ecology #environment #environmentalism #pollinators #animals #wildlife #conservation #pests #extinction

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sybaritick · 5 months

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thoughts after doing my updated pinned post: while I would like to get out of my comfort zone a bit more w my fanfic/smut this year (it's fun and builds writing skill!), it also doesn't really bother me to be, for the most part, The Guy Who Writes Power Imbalance/Manipulation/Sex That's About Conquest, in the sense that a thriving ecosystem of excellent fanficcers can contain all sorts of creatures suited to very particular niches in addition to its generalists.

if you are the sort to binge watch a playlist of "predatory flatworm hunts and eats [other invertebrate]" YouTube videos you will enjoy seeing some pretty boy or naïve activist taken apart in a dozen different ways in a dozen different places in my little oneshots; how fascinating that it's such an incredibly simple animal compared to most predators, but the way it injects digestive enzymes into its prey and eats them half-dissolved...! for some, pondering it once is enough; for others they will develop a fascination with these other tiny invertebrate monsters, the slave-making ants, the parasitoid wasps too, quoting Darwin's "I cannot persuade myself that a beneficent and omnipotent God would have designedly created the Ichneumonidae with the express intention of their feeding within the living bodies of Caterpillars..."

and yet this is such a tiny fraction of the incredible richness of the biological world; there are uncountable species and behaviors and relationships people might find interesting. I am just one writer, or just Megarhyssa atrata drilling for the larvae of the wood wasp, or the deceitful Polyergus lucidus queen; may you witness and enjoy my ambitious American appetites as another tiny piece of the great and terrible tapestry of human sexuality, whether or not my works are the sort you care to linger on.

#cal txt #fandom #my writing #i am so pretentious i think it wraps around to being fun again

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celinamarniss · 5 months

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Ao3 is down so I'm posting the first chapter of A Smuggler's Guide to Joining the Rebellion (the sequel to Things You Find on Tatooine) here as a birthday present for @virusq Happy Birthday!

It was the sharp tone in Mara’s voice that Han registered long before he recognised the words as they carried down the starboard corridor. “Chewbacca,” Mara hissed, “you’re not listening to me—”

It was the sort of tone that brought Han to an abrupt stop before his brain had realized what his body was doing. Chewie’s reply was too low to make out, but his answer was terse and unhappy.

Oh no no no no. Han was not getting in the middle of some lover’s spat. Swiveling on his heel, He slunk back down the corridor as quietly as he could manage.

“I know you’re there, Han,” Mara’s voice rang down the corridor.

Han frowned, foot half-raised. He was sure he’d been quiet. Why had he tried so hard to be quiet? This was his ship, wasn’t it? He didn’t need to creep around on his ship.

“Yeah?” he called back. “What of it? A man should be able to walk around his own ship whenever he pleases!” To prove his point, he let his feet fall heavily on the grated floor, even though he was still retreating backwards down the corridor.

“If the both of you are done bickering, we’re coming up on Riggett Station. If anyone on the crew wants to help dock the ship today.” A sullen silence answered him and followed him into the cockpit.

Moments later, Chewie lumbered down the corridor. “Teenagers,” he muttered under his breath as he joined Han. Mara trailed behind him like a little black cloud.

She got like that sometimes. Han didn’t understand it, Chewie couldn’t predict it. Without warning, she would fall into a sulk and shut herself off in her room with only her small arsenal of weaponry to keep her company. Eventually she’d come out again, usually to eat, and when she did she acted like nothing had happened. Han didn’t know if this was normal, since he wasn’t entirely sure how teenaged girls were meant to behave. The girls he’d known when he’d been a teenager had, like himself, been fighting too hard to stay alive on the streets of Corellia to mope in a cupboard.

Mara tucked herself in the seat behind Chewie and turned to the navigator’s console without speaking. Chewie grumbled something Han didn’t catch as he settled into the co-pilot’s couch.

“What was that?” Han asked absently as he reached for the lever that would take them out of hyperspace.

But he never did find out what Chewie was going to say, because at that moment, realspace solidified around them with an abrupt jolt that rocked the entire ship. Was the alluvial dampener malfunctioning again? Han had a moment to wonder before the proximity alarm began to shriek.

“Shit.”

An Imperial patrol ship hovered like a viper wasp in the starboard viewport, gleaming silver against the star-pricked void.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” Han silenced the alarm. “That shouldn’t be there!”

They knew the patrol schedule for this sector—at least, they’d known last month’s schedule—and no one was due in this particular space lane for a few days.

“They’re hailing us,” Mara said tightly.

The Falcon’s comm dropped the first seconds of the call, almost as if in spite. “—erial patrol, freighter, please identify yourself.”

Han jabbed at comm with enough force to drive it into the control panel. “This is the freighter Millenium Falcon, sending our transponder ID now.”

“Stand by, Millenium Falcon.”

“They’re going to board and search the ship,” Chewie rumbled.

They were fucked if the Imps did a full search of the ship. The fifty barrels of high-grade Kessel spice sitting in their hold wasn’t sort of haul you couldn’t hide under a floor panel. They didn’t have time to move the barrels to a more secure hiding place and if a boarding party had a strong enough scanner, it wouldn’t matter where they hid it.

“Prepare for approach,” the comm droned.

“Uh, that’s not necessary, officer,” Han said, knowing, even as the words left his mouth, exactly how unconvincing he sounded. “As you can see from our ID, we’re just an independent freighter headed to pick up some work on the station.”

“Millenium Falcon, hold and prepare for boarding and inspection.”

There was a finality to the click that ended the transmission that couldn’t be denied. The nose of the cruiser slowly rotated until it pointed in their direction like a blunted arrow.

“Dump ‘em,” Han barked. “We’re still out of range of their scanners. We’re far enough into the system—we dump the cargo and it’ll just look like orbiting debris.”

“Will that work?” Mara asked.

“It’s worked before,” Han said grimly. He and Chewie had never tried it before—not exactly—but it was a common enough tactic that lots of smugglers employed. “But we have to do it now. Dump everything. Mara—”

But she was already gone. Han cursed under his breath and scrambled after her. When he caught up to her in the cargo bay, she had already donned her gloves and was releasing the locking clamps on the rack of barrels.

“Just shove ‘em into the elevator and we’ll dump them out of the loading—careful! What are you doing!—Don't scrape them along the floor! They’ll be able to tell there was cargo in here.”

“On this floor?” Mara waved a hand wildly. “Oh, they’ll definitely be able to tell what scratches on this floor are from illegal cargo.”

Han heaved a barrel into the freight elevator. “I’ll be able to tell, and if I can tell—”

A large furry hand reached around from behind him and hoisted two barrels out of the way. “Quit arguing,” Chewie rumbled.

“We’re not—” Han and Mara snapped at the same time.

“Just a difference of opinion,” Han said as he helped Mara tip a barrel on its side and roll into the lift. “Mara’s opinion is wrong and mine is right.”

Han kicked the final barrel onto the freight elevator where it banged against the other with an ear-piercing clang. He spared a millisecond to worry about the goods before remembering that they were about to space the whole lot.

“Alright, back off.” They retreated to the entryway of the hold as Han activated the elevator release.

The elevator disappeared into the floor as it lowered the barrels out of sight. They listened to the clunk and hiss of the airlock sealing the cargo off from the rest of the ship, and then—nothing. It was all gone, thousands of credits dumped into space.

Back in the cockpit, they watched the shadow of the patrol ship slide across the Falcon’s viewport.

“Everyone gets boarded,” Han said into the silence. “It’s fine. It’s going to be fine, everything’s going to be fine. They’ll smell that something’s off, but if they can’t find it, they can’t pin it on us.”

The Falcon shuddered as it was caught in the grip of the tractor beam and they all flinched at the vibration, followed by the deep mechanical grinding of the airlock slotting into place.

Han could feel Mara and Chewie’s eyes on him. “I’ll go show ‘em around,” he said.

He had a bad feeling about this.

“I’ll do it,” Mara said, darting out of the cabin again.

“Mara—”

“She can do it,” Chewie said.

“She’d better,” Han muttered, pushing out of his seat. “All our asses are on the line if she doesn’t.”

By the time he reached the airlock, five stormtroopers were assembling in the cramped corridor headed by an Imperial officer that looked exactly like every other Imperial officer that Han had ever met. There was something about that uniform that seemed to drain any sort of personality out of a person.

Mara stood between him and the Imperials, her hands loose at her sides, as unarmed as Mara ever was. “Officer! Welcome to the Millennium Falcon!”

Han had never heard her use that tone of voice before. It was innocuous and sweet, too-bright. Chirpy.

It clearly wasn’t the sort of reception the officer had been expecting, either, and it was just enough to throw him off. He closed his mouth around an unspoken command and stared down at her for a moment before he was able to reassess the situation he had walked into. Mara met his gaze with the straightforward earnestness of a concerned citizen with nothing to hide. Han almost believed her himself. Good girl, he thought.

“We’re here to search this freighter for any contraband or unregistered cargo,” the Imperial officer said stiffly.

“Of course, officer,” Mara replied, bright and eager. “We’re on our way to Glavis to pick up a job, so we’re running light right now. Do you have all the equipment you need to scan the cargo hold?”

“A visual inspection is all that’s required at this juncture. Is that your captain?” The officer said, craning his head around in Han’s direction. The expression on the Imperial’s face froze as Chewie lumbered into the view.

“Yeah, I’m him,” Han said. He gestured at Chewie. “Our first mate. And muscle.”

“Is it under control?” the officer muttered, more to Mara than Han.

“Chewbacca’s very reliable!” she said, before Han had a chance to mouth off. “You don’t have to worry about anything! Would you like to view the hold now?”

The officer made a show of looking Han and Chewie up and down once more before he nodded. “Keep an eye on them,” he said to one of the troopers.

“Sure, we’ll just wait in the lounge until you’re done,” Han said, backing down the curve of the corridor. The trooper hefted his blaster and marched in the same direction.

“Our cargo hold is right this way!” Mara chirped. “If you’ll follow me, sir…”

A single stormtrooper remained to guard the exit as the other three marched after Mara and the officer toward the cargo bay. The stormtrooper assigned to watch Han and Chewie stood at attention in the entryway to the lounge, and while it was impossible to tell where he was looking, not with those helmets, Han could feel his eyes on them.

Kriffing Imps.

Chewie put his hands on the table, relaxed and visible, as though he were just resting them on the edge of the holoboard. After a moment, Han did the same, though he itched to drop his hand and rest it on the handle of his blaster.

Every moment that passed, those barrels were spiraling further and further away from the space lanes,

They’d never be able to retrieve them.

After about two minutes, he couldn’t take it anymore. The stormtrooper hefted his blaster as he got to his feet, and Han jerked his hands up in a display of compliance.

Insolent compliance. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said.

“Keep within bounds,” the Trooper barked.

Han let his hands drop a few inches as he paced over to one end of the lounge, turning on his heel at the edge of the room and looping back again. And again.

If Mara wasn’t able to convince them that the Falcon was a perfectly harmless cargo hauler, then the Imperials would arrest them and likely throw them into some sort of hellish Imperial prison. Han didn’t want to think about the sort of sentence that Chewie or Mara would face.

Or—the Imperials might just shoot them.

Or this was just routine harassment, and if they didn’t see any evidence of smuggling, they’d accept a bribe—not that they had much of anything to bribe with—and be on their way.

Han made another circuit of the lounge. He could hear Mara’s chatter drifting down the hall before he saw her. The sound of a door sliding open, and then another, told Han they were doing a search of the Falcon, but only a perfunctory one. He craned his head out of the lounge, obeying the letter of the law by not lifting a foot to step into the corridor. He could hear the impatient shift of the stormtrooper behind him, but the Imp didn’t call him on it.

Han tensed as Mara paused in front of the door to her personal arsenal. She stood in front of the former supply closet, radiating innocence and chattering on, and not one of the stormtroopers moved to open the door. It was almost as if they couldn’t see it.

Han squinted at the troopers as they continued on down the hallway until they reached the airlock. He could hear the click and of their comms, and then the trooper on guard duty in the lounge shouldered past him to rejoin his squad.

The inspection was over.

If they’d had an Imperial flag onboard, Mara would have waved them off. “Thank you, officer! We appreciate your service!” she called as the airlock rolled back into place.

They waited in the cockpit for a long, tense half an hour before the comm pinged.

“Millennium Falcon, you may go on your way,” a bored voice droned over the comm. Above them, the patrol ship slowly glided back into the space lane and hovered there, clearly waiting to track the Falcon’s route as it headed toward Glavis. There was no way they could go back and collect the spice they’d dumped without giving themselves away. Han could barely feel his fingers as he steered the Falcon away from a fortune in spice.

“Jabba knows exactly how many barrels we were delivering to Glavis,” Chewbacca said.

“Yeah.” A cold stone settled in Han’s stomach.

They were fucked.

#a smuggler's guide to joining the rebellion #or should it be 'joining the rebel alliance'?#wip weds #works in progress wednesday #my stuff #the things you find on tatooine #strange bedfellows

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aimmyarrowshigh · 8 months

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Hello! Dropping into your inbox to ask you about your research for

"Lent From Tomorrow (today was too small for us)." You must have done a ton of historical research for it to get so many of those details. I think that sort of thing is a lot of fun, and I'm very curious to know if you came across anything especially cool/fascinating/weird during your writing research.

Ooh, thank you for the ask! How fun!

There's SO MUCH research in this fic, from the codebreaking to the science of how to defrost a supersoldier to what was on the radio on specific days in 1943. I've got a whole folder of just Lent From Tomorrow research, and the back half of my WIP document is just copy-pastes of quotes from soldiers, scientists, codebreakers, radio hosts, etc.

But, to be fair, I've been reading nonfiction about WWII codebreakers for like 20 years. It's one of my special interests~ and something that I just love learning about. WWII *battles*, I don't care about at all, but everything else about the time period is fascinating to me -- probably because of Molly McIntire, haha.

My FAVORITE little tidbit actually comes up in this coming week's chapter, so I'm not going to spoil it, but it's my favorite recollection in Code Girls by Liza Mundy. That was definitely the book that I used the most for this fic, since the main characters are basically all "code girls," or code omegas, whatever. I also used a lot from PBS Nova's The Mind of a Codebreaker, which I watched when it first came out in 1999 and it rewired my entire brain. I immediately did a report on the women of Bletchley Park in 7th grade (and another on the WASP/WAVE/WAC pilots, so I was really excited to be able to have Carol Danvers make a cameo in Lent!).

But I also looked up specifics for just about every scene -- the snippet of Quiz Kids that's on the wireless radio when Steve and the Asset are listening to the wireless is a quote and actually aired that day. The Torah portion that Steve hears when he goes to shul with the gals and Scott is the Torah portion from that particular Shabbat service in December 1942. The movie scene is the actual movie, newsreel, and cartoon that were shown together at a theater in Washington, DC, on that Friday in March 1943.

I leaned on a former-scientist friend of mine to point me in the right direction to find out how they would have frozen and defrosted the Asset, and also how The Arm might work in a way that isn't just "::shrug:: it's Superhero Science." Her husband is a mathematician, and she suggested some avenues that Steve might have written his big 1929 math paper about, too. And then I read a bunch of math papers from the 1920s and tried to understand them and it was. a lot.

I also did a lot of research into Steve's various disabilities and ailments and the treatments available by the early 1940s, particularly asthma and his childhood polio. (I'm forgetting whether the backstory of his polio experience has actually shown up in the fic yet or if it's coming up soon in a chapter? If it hasn't been posted yet, then spoiler, I guess, Steve had polio as a kid [although I *think* that's canon?]). Steve's experience of being disabled is really important to me, and I wanted it to matter and be a part of his life in this story (and any story I write about Steve).

There's a lot more specific stuff coming up in the back half of the fic, now that we've reached the midway point... Bucky's backstory requires a lot of research into things that I don't know as much about, just because I don't tend to look into actual battle/military histories, and because [redacted for spoilers].

#lent from tomorrow (today was too small for us)#fandom #fanfiction #my fic #asks

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soapoey · 8 months

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No real particular harm in this particular post or joke but it does suggest to me a personality so incurious, whimsyless as to value a very old and boring reddit joke above a simple admiration for a part of nature that simply doesnt make itself as convenient for human consumption as, well, bees, dogs, those animals british people let live in their big dead empty lawn country. The real fact of the matter is i find wasps very charming and funny and i just dont wanna hear this tired joke replied right to my face

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honeylavender27 · 7 months

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first is the art I commissioned from my awesome friend and wifu @asm0s, and the second is also commissioned art from the equally awesome @stellawolfe30. thank you both so much for loving Apis and listening to me ramble about her and other ocs!

finally getting around to making a OC post for Apis, she doesn't belong to any particular fandom and is manly a comfort OC. she's a teddy Bear demon or Bearkin the teddy part being added due to her smaller-than-average size for her kind. (also because I was partially inspired to make her after watching clips from the Sleepy Princess anime) she knows minor illusion magic to glamor her appearance in public, her main ability is Volukinesis the manipulation of insects (specifically Bees and Hornets/Wasps) a trait she gets from her mother's side. as such she makes a living working with bees, selling honey and honey-related sweets at farmers' markets. later adding special plants and flowers after meeting her partner Chunhua and occasionally mentoring others wanting to take up beekeeping. she found that her talent could extend to hornets/wasp species and after a few years of trial and error was able to raise a colony of her own. thanks to being able to change their behavior over time, she was slowly able to get them to co-inhabit with her main bee colony as extra protection from outside pests as well as security to her home. she's married to a Monkey demon named Chunhua, and lives together on a small farm. originally their marriage had been an act to keep Apis's father from trying to arrange a marriage but the two ended up making it official. Chunhua does most of the farm work so Apis takes care of the housework and of course, handles the beekeeping. Extra Facts!: Apis is the middle child of 5 siblings, two older twin brothers, a younger brother, and a sister. her father makes his own mead, operating a small meadery with his eldest sons, with her stepmother running a connected store/bar. Apis's biological mother originally opened the storefront, and like Apis was a voluketic beekeeper, unfortunately, she passed away due to an accident. she's closest with her twin brothers and still keeps in contact, but she is in low contact mainly with her father and stepmother due to her decision to leave home, as well as marrying Chunhua. her younger half-siblings and she never had much of a relationship due to age differences and thus aren't really a part of the drama. her older brothers originally did visit and tried to convince her to return home but changed their tune after seeing their little sister thriving and happy. they were 100 happy in supporting the marriage lie and were just as happy to hear when they tied the knot officially. (although they were sad there was no wedding, but Apis and Chunhua made it up to them by letting them plan their first-anniversary party.) Apis and Chunhua honestly aren't PDA at all preferring to keep most if not all affections in privet. It's largely cause of that they preferred a courthouse ceremony over any kind of wedding, followed by a short road trip to various botanical gardens, fairs, and markets. Their "wedding bands" are literally just two painted metal rings they got at the souvenir shop at one of the gardens they visited. There are more but i feel like this post is really long so imma end it here, idk maybe if there's more i want to add i'll do another smaller post or i'll reblog an addon maybe. i will be doing a post for Chunhua soon to go with this one!

#oc art #my ocs #this is my first time doing anything like this AAAAHHH #i hope you like my girl #almost forgot to add that that is tangled star Nezha or stella's nezha.#he comes over once in a while for tea and gossip with Apis.

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rescue-ram · 11 months

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"Who's this?" Henry asked.

"He's crazy," Trapper said.

"Uh-huh," Henry said, walking around the desk to get a closer look at the guy in the dress. He touched the lacy hem of one sleeve. "This is actually a really lovely little number," Henry said appreciatively, "Store bought?"

"Hand made," the guy said. "They don't exactly carry my size off the rack."

"No, I suppose not," Henry said. "Well, wonderful work. You did this?"

"Yep," the guy said, "Would you perhaps say it's crazy good? That it's insane a man is this good at making evening gowns?"

"Oh no, I'd never say that," Henry said. "My father was a dressmaker. I have the utmost respect for garment makers, male or female."

"Ah."

"I used to help him, when I was a kid. It actually was very good practice for suturing," Henry was fully lost in the memory, paying no expression to the consternated expression on the crazy guy's face. "Of course, the shop fell on hard times in '29, he wound up losing most of his equipment. I spent my summers as his dress form. You wouldn't know it to look at me now," he added ruefully, "but I used to have a wasp waist, when I was young."

"I haven't the slightest idea what I should say to that, sir."

"Enjoy your youth while you have it," Henry said, clapping him on the shoulder. "So, any particular reason you seem to be gunning for a section 8?"

"I don't want to die."

"Understandable," Henry said nodding, "And you're crazy, not a conscientious objector?"

"Oh, I'm objecting conscientiously, believe me, but the draft board didn't agree."

"Well, if you're willing to carry a gun- uh, what actually is your name?"

"Klinger," he said with a sigh, "I'm Maxwell Klinger."

"Well Klinger, I'm assigning you to guard duty."

"In a dress?"

"I think it's intimidating," Henry mused. "If we post the crossdresser at the front gates, who knows what's inside? And besides, if you don't do your duty, the enemy will come and kill us, so you'll have to do a good job if you want to be alive to get that discharge."

"Great," Klinger said bitterly, "Just great. Of all the units in all the army, I get posted to the one with a CO kookier than me!"

"Oh, and Klinger," Henry said looking up from his paperwork, "Do you have any other dresses?"

"Several."

"Wonderful. That really is a gorgeous outfit, but not appropriate for daily wear. I'd hate to see your hard work ruined."

#excerpt from a section of the fic i might cut and post as a seperate 'klinger's first day' fic #i'm having too much fun with klinger #mash

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ozmatippetarius · 11 months

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The Secret History and A Separate Peace Comparisons/Analysis

I've been wanting to make a comparison post between The Secret History and A Separate Peace for almost a decade now, and the time has come. They're two of my favorite books of all time, and the relationship between the two is so delicious to me. (If you're a fan of TSH and haven't read ASP, go read it and then come back. It's short and you'll love it, I promise.)

(We'll skip right over the most trivial similarities, the academic New England settings and the [Article][Descriptor][Abstract Noun] titles.)

The Intros

We open to our narrators, now years removed from their time in academia, returning (either physically or metaphorically) to their youth to revisit the scene of a violent death by falling that shaped their lives forever.

Gene desperately wishes to find peace. In his visit, he finds reassurance - nothing is forever. He too will be able to heal, eventually.

Everything at Devon slowly changed and slowly harmonized with what had gone before. So it was logical to hope that since the buildings and the Deans and the curriculum could achieve this, I could achieve, perhaps unknowingly already had achieved, this growth and harmony myself. [...] The tree was not only stripped by the cold season, it seemed weary from age, enfeebled, dry. I was thankful, very thankful that I had seen it. So the more things remain the same, the more they change after all—plus c’est la même chose, plus ça change. Nothing endures, not a tree, not love, not even a death by violence.

Richard has something of the inverse experience. He had convinced himself by aggressively compartmentalizing that he had left Hampden unaffected by Bunny's death, and is only now coming to terms with the permanent impact it had on him. His conclusion is a lot more pessimistic, too: Richard does not think he'll ever truly be able to move on.

But walking through it all was one thing; walking away, unfortunately, has proved to be quite another, and though once I thought I had left that ravine forever on an April afternoon long ago, now I am not so sure. [...] I suppose at one time in my life I might have had any number of stories, but now there is no other. This is the only story I will ever be able to tell.

Finny/Bunny

All around, Bunny comes off as a very intentional subversion of Finny, a grittier and perhaps more modern take. In A Separate Peace Finny's naivete verging on social ineptitude, along with his general unawareness of his privilege, comes off as charming to most readers, even as it grates on Gene's nerves. The Secret History is a lot more blunt about the kind of casual bigotry that arises from being raised in the particular bubble that Finny and Bunny were.

John Knowles has stated publicly that Finny was based on a real classmate of his, David Hackett, who was best friends with Robert Kennedy and whose career was very solidly based upon his relationship with the Kennedys. Hackett's enthusiastic welcome was the primary reason for Bobby being socially accepted at their school, which had a "High WASP" culture and was "unwelcoming to Catholic new money". This article about him is really fascinating.

Bunny, on the other hand, fully embodies "High WASP" culture himself and spends much of the novel making fun of Catholics (and new money). It's an eye-opening revelation when, after his death, we learn that his family was obsessed with the Kennedys and that Bunny has on occasion posed as one for preferential treatment.

Although this scene doesn't exist in the novel version, here's Finny's introduction in the short story Phineas (precursor to A Separate Peace).

I had seen him at a distance around the school the previous winter and gotten the impression that he was bigger than I was. But when he straightened up, our eyes met dead level. For a second I thought he was going to say, “I bet my old man can lick your old man.” Then his mouth broke into a grin, and he said, “Where did you get that dizzy shirt?” It was like one of the shifts which made him so good at sports: exactly what the opponent didn’t expect. I had been prepared to introduce myself, or to waive that and exclaim, “Well, I guess we’re roommates!” or to begin negotiating an immediate, hostile division of the available floor space. Instead he cut through everything and began criticizing my clothes—my clothes—while he stood there in hacked-off khaki pants and an undershirt. As a matter of fact, I was wearing a lime-green, short-sleeved sports shirt with the bottom squared and worn outside the pants, much admired in the South. “At home,” I said. “Where did you think?” “I don’t know, but I can see that home is way down yonder.”

This should sound eerily familiar. Here's Bunny's first real introduction in The Secret History.

“By the way, love that jacket, old man,” Bunny said to me as we were getting out of the taxi. “Silk, isn’t it?” “Yes. It was my grandfather’s.” Bunny pinched a piece of the rich, yellowy cloth near the cuff and rubbed it back and forth between his fingers. “Lovely piece,” he said importantly. “Not quite the thing for this time of year, though.” “No?” I said. “Naw. This is the East Coast, boy. I know they’re pretty laissez-faire about dress in your neck of the woods, but back here they don’t let you run around in your bathing suit all year long. Blacks and blues, that’s the ticket, blacks and blues.…"

Gene (and John)/Richard (and the twins)

Gene is a scholarship student from down south. He's embarrassed by his background and uses fake pictures to give an impression of a lifestyle that he never had.

Over my cot I had long ago taped pictures which together amounted to a barefaced lie about my background—weepingly romantic views of plantation mansions, moss-hung trees by moonlight, lazy roads winding dustily [...] When asked about them I had acquired an accent appropriate to a town three states south of my own, and I had transmitted the impression, without actually stating it, that this was the old family place.

Meanwhile, here's Richard telling Julian about his own home life in California. Unlike Gene, Richard doesn't have any hold-ups lying explicitly about his background.

Orange groves, failed movie stars, lamplit cocktail hours by the swimming pool, cigarettes, ennui. He listened, his eyes fixed on mine, apparently entranced by these fraudulent recollections.

And then we have this (heartbreaking, to me) scene, where Richard destroys the only real photographic he has of his mother because he's afraid that it will uncover his embarrassing reality.

It was the most gratuitous sort of cruelty. My lies about my family were adequate, I suppose, but they could not stand up under these glaring attacks. Neither of my parents had finished high school; my mother did wear pants suits, which she purchased at a factory outlet. In the only photograph I had of her, a snapshot, she squinted blurrily at the camera, one hand on the Cyclone fence and the other on my father’s new riding lawn mower. This, ostensibly, was the reason that the photo had been sent me, my mother having some notion that I would be interested in the new acquisition; I’d kept it because it was the only picture I had of her, kept it tucked inside a Webster’s dictionary (under M for Mother) on my desk. But one night I rose from my bed, suddenly consumed with fear that Bunny would find it while snooping around my room. No hiding place seemed safe enough. Finally I burned it in an ashtray.

At the same time, Richard has maintained a (probably wrong) impression of the twins' home in Virginia that is eerily reminiscent of the story Gene cooked up: "a childhood I like to think about, with horses and rivers and sweet-gum trees."

Even more than the character Gene though, I think Richard correlates to the author John Knowles himself. Here's an exerpt from an old essay of his about his time at Exeter.

My father was in the coal business in West Virginia. Both dad and mother were, however, originally from Massachusetts; New England, to them, meant the place to go if you really wanted an education. My brother had, to be sure, gone to Mercersburg Academy in Pennsylvania, but then he dutifully went off to Dartmouth, deep in deepest New Hampshire. I was expected to follow him to Mercersburg, but picking up a catalog one day which was lying around the house, the catalog of Phillips Exeter Academy, I found a preliminary application form on the last page and, just for the hell of it, filled it out and mailed it. Soon, entrance examinations were arranged for me at the local high school, administered by the principal no less. Exeter was clearly an important place. I knew little else about it, knew no one who had ever gone there, and, although my family visited New England most summers, I had never seen the school.

Again, sound... eerily familiar? Moreover, Richard (first name John!) becomes an author himself and the entire framing device of the novel is his attempt to write the story of his personal experience in school, much as John Knowles did (with a much greater degree of fictionalization). The meta-fiction of it all is so satisfyingly multi-layered.

I'll close off with this laughably off-base review I stumbled upon while researching this post.

(Imagine being anti-intellectual enough to complain about the use of the phrase "gravity of the situation" and suggest "how serious it was" would have been a superior substitute, while also being insecure enough to throw words like "gaseous" around. Cracks me up.)

#the secret history #a separate peace

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primewritessmut · 5 months

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🛒🎢👀🧠 (Mobius AND LokI 'cause I'm greedy) 🤲✅

Oi! Look at our cute little matching PFPs!

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

I’ve been told I put a lot of knives in my stories. And also that they’re very brutal in their way which, for real, was something that had to be POINTED OUT TO ME because I had no idea. It’s one of those things, I think, where you’re just trucking along in your own little brain thinking your fucked up little ideas are normal and then someone rolls up and gets a look inside and is like, “wow, this place is really bringing down the property value for the rest of the neighborhood.”

Other themes that I am aware that I write: Seeing the Other, Love in Spite of (and Sometimes Because of) Flaws, and Everyone is a Little Bit of an Asshole.

I tend to use ocean and space imagery when talking about love and the realization that one character is in love with another. There’s something about the vastness and unknowability of those two places that I think is very akin to how we understand love (i.e. not very well).

And I’m a sucker for scenes where characters help each other get dressed. There’s just something so domestic and intimate about it while at the same time having implications of staking your claim on this person in a subtle way (“wear this shirt that I picked out for you”) or offering them some form of protection against the world. I don’t think I write it as much as I would like to, but I do know it's popped up a few times.

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

Hmm. she’s not going to die today, maybe? Mostly because there were a few times while writing that story that I audibly gasped at something either Peter or Wade had done. It’s also a true enemies to lovers story which, I think, is always inherently a ride.

In terms of just buckling in and enjoying the ride, though, I’d have to give the title to A Particular Set of Skills. I knew it was probably the last time I’d write those characters and so I gave them a lot of free rein to just be balls to the wall and silly and bloody and terrible and funny.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

DUDE. You already know about literally every wip I have going.

I don’t know which one I’m most excited about but I’m currently in my Lokius era and have two that I think will be fun to write.

There’s a post-canon fic for Sylvie (working title: love is an apocalypse event) where she meets her own Mobius variant (Margot) in Broxton which I think I’m most stoked for as a chance to write more wlw/sapphic stuff. Well, that and getting back to writing something a little more antagonistic because, let’s face it, Sylvie is the equivalent of a wasp trying to fly up your nose.

And a modern Mobius/Loki AU (working title: Midori Sour) where Mobius is a bartender/restaurant manager at the bar where Loki keeps bringing all his first dates. And, of course, Mobius enjoys watching because (1) Loki is nice to look at and (2) all the dates tend to end in disaster.

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

Mobius is on the ace spec (probably demi) and he’s a service top. Also, that goofy little dude has a choking kink (being choked) that I’m excited to explore at some point.

Loki likes to watch as much as Mobius does. There are so many moments in canon where Loki is looking at Mobius or paying attention to what he does when it makes zero sense to do so. As I think you said when reading one of the Daggers chapters: “that boy is lost in the sauce.”

As far as the two of them together? They absolutely, positively utilize Loki’s shape-shifting abilities when fucking. I think it embarrasses Loki at first, but Mobius is so excited and enthusiastic about it that— Oh wait. Heeeeey, new fic idea. (I’m sure that already exists, but I’m going to be thinking about it a lot today anyway.)

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

The struggle of trying to find a snippet that I haven’t already c/p into your inbox the second I wrote it…

He won’t remember this but Loki will, and Mobius can’t decide which is worse.

“Hey,” he says, cupping Loki’s jaw, “it’s me.”

“I know it’s you. I know, but—“

“No.” Mobius pulls Loki’s face down to his and presses his forehead against Loki's. “No. It’s always me. Along every point in the timeline I give a shit about you, Loki. Don’t forget that.”

Loki’s shoulders drop on an exhale and Mobius smooths his palms down the sides of Loki’s neck to his drooping shoulders. Loki leans in closer, tucking his face into the crook of Mobius’s neck while Mobius threads his fingers through strands of raven black hair.

A sad laugh heats the side of Mobius’s throat. “It would be a lot easier if you didn’t,” Loki mumbles. “But I’m far too selfish to wish for it.”

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

Lists of threes. Like, I know threes are a thing in literature but I am HYPER aware of whenever I'm listing out traits or giving examples of something in exposition. There's a rhythm to it that feels broken if it's not a list of three.

I know there are snippets of dialogue and specific phrases I use over and over again, but I'm coming up blank on them right now. I'm sure the next time I'm editing they are all I'm going to see, though.

#ask game #loved answering these questions #you always ask the best ones

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popentertainment-moviereviews · 6 months

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AQUAMAN AND THE LOST KINGDOM (2023)

Starring Jason Momoa, Patrick Wilson, Amber Heard, Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, Randall Park, Dolph Lundgren, Temuera Morrison, Martin Short, Nicole Kidman, Vincent Regan, Jani Zhao, Indya Moore, Pilou Asbæk, Jay McDonald, Natalia Safran, Samuel Gosrani, Jay Rincon, Jonathan Bremner, Jack Waldouck, Jonny Vaughton, Osian Roberts and Grant Huggair.

Screenplay by David Leslie Johnson-McGoldrick.

Directed by James Wan.

Distributed by Warner Bros. Pictures. 124 minutes. Rated R.

Let’s face it, it’s a bad time for Aquaman to continue his adventures in Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom. A whole tidal wave of issues are pressing against the return of the King of Atlantis.

First off, and most basic – the world at large seems to be getting a case of superhero fatigue. Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom in particular is in a precarious place, as the last remnants of the old Zack Snyder-planned DCEU of which this film is a part has come to an end, and the new James Gunn DC universe is going in a completely different direction – a direction which may or may not include Aquaman. (The appearance is that at least for now, Aquaman has no place in Gunn’s DC films.)

The last several DCEU films have been box office disappointments, including The Flash, Shazam 2 and Blue Beetle. It’s not unique to DC, who has always been the also-ran comic book cinematic universe. Even the grand poohbah of the art form, Marvel, has had recent films become severe box office disappointments. (The Marvels, Thor: Love and Thunder and Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania, anyone?)

Not only that, but there have also long been rumors of an uncomfortable, strife-filled set for this film – particularly an apparent feud between star Jason Momoa and co-star Amber Heard, which is a concern, considering they are playing husband and wife. In fact, Heard’s role seems to have been cut due to Momoa’s insistence on limiting her involvement – although that limitation also may have to do with Heard being essentially cancelled after the infamous trial against her ex-husband Johnny Depp.

Still, Warner Brothers thought enough of Aquaman to toss it out in the deep end and make it a Christmas tentpole title.

I can’t say that I share their optimism. Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom is the best and the worst of modern superhero filmmaking all mixed up into a big, confusing mess. There is very little in the way of a plot here, although there is nearly constant eye-popping action which the filmmakers hope will distract you from the fact that not much of this stuff makes much (or any) sense.

Also, the attempts – mostly by Momoa, but by some other characters as well – to add some much-needed levity and humor to the film almost inevitably fall flat. (This was also a problem with the first Aquaman film.)

Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom is lost itself, a huge, shambling series of poorly edited (mostly) underwater battle sequences held together with just the barest wisp of a plot. And that little wisp of story is basically one we’ve seen over and over now, particularly in superhero movies.

The cast feels like they are on autopilot for the most part – particularly Nicole Kidman who looks like she would love to be anywhere, anywhere, but where she is. On the other hand, Randall Park steals pretty much every scene he is in as a scientist who is dragged into an evil plot.

I can sort of relate to him. Although, in fairness, Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom does have some fun action sequences, for the most part you’d have to drag me kicking and screaming into ever watching this again.

Jay S. Jacobs

youtube

#Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom #2023 #Movie Review #Jason Momoa #Jay S. Jacobs #Youtube

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eccentric-nucleus · 6 months

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hitherby dragons was actually deeply formative to me

here are some hitherby dragons posts, in no particular order

Unfinished Things

“Why do you have them do that?” she asks him. She points at one of the monitors, where a scene best not described is taking place.

“It is difficult to control the infestation of humans,” Harmony of Consciousness says. “They have spread throughout the nightmare. They are … rugged. And very good at living in the cracks. For each that calls itself to my notice, one hundred scurry in the darkness. So I must set them to the task of destroying themselves.”

“I’m human,” she points out. There’s a little pause before she says it, because she’s afraid, but only a little one.

“I requested you,” he says, and shrugs.

“If you want to be good,” she says, “you won’t make people hurt one another.”

Harmony of Consciousness frowns. Several of his hands hesitate in their work.

“No?”

i used to say 'communication is violence' a lot and it was entirely because of this

Are Siggorts? (I/I)

“You’re totally an isn’t. I bet that guy getting vivisected was an isn’t, too. That’s why I don’t feel at all concerned about his fate.”

Sid looks aggrieved. “That’s ridiculous,” he says. “Siggorts have been around since the dawn of the world. We’re totally not isn’ts.”

“Prove it.”

“How?”

“Vivisect me.”

Sid stares at Max for a long moment. His wheel of knives spins.

Max looks really uncomfortable. “Wait,” he says.

“You know,” says Sid bleakly, “in a lot of fairy tales, I’d have been waiting for you to say just that. I’d have been hanging out with you since you were seven so I could vivisect you, and then you’d ask me to, and I would, and as I cut open your chest I’d find the magic that was taken from me long ago and I would finally be free.”

i'm glad that in the current canon sid & max's relationship is a little less fraught. difficult to say which is worse: sid's vivisection thing or max being a closeted republican

An Unclean Legacy

We do not know how Montechristien Gargamel came into his power. His origins are a mystery. How such an ungainly, strange, and immoral man could rise so swiftly to prominence puzzles even the greatest scholars of our time. Of his life once established in Castle Gargamel, however, certain facts are known.

He took to wife the Lady Yseult Gargamel, one of the great beauties of his day; and though many a rival pressed for evidence that he’d bewitched or stolen her, none was ever found. They had and loved six children of their flesh, until the seventh, Elisabet, killed Yseult with the complications of her birth. Each of these children was a prodigy, possessed of astonishing talents. When at last Montechristien stumbled towards the grave, the talents of his children turned against their siblings, every hand against the other, until they could dispose of the matter of their legacy.

where's my 26-episode anime series about this, huh (this one is long. in fact if the final part hadn't been split into 3 it would have been precisely 26 parts, which i am going to assume was intentional)

Ophion (I/I)

Cronos had unleashed great horrors on the world.

The world did not suffer from them.

Rather, from his place on the throne of the world, the titan held that suffering at bay. He made a plate of stone and set it behind him and upon it he bore the weight of imperfection. Thus when swarmed the namecatcher wasps, they did not cause harm. Thus the staggering crooked heartless men did not bleed out their life into the hollows of their chests. The titan reconciled in himself their dharmas, saying: “Swarm here, wasps, where their names are a burden to them.” Or “Stuff your chests with herbs, and palpate them with palpation bugs, and live and farm thereafter quietly and in peace.” He set the demons against the narcissists. He sent the angels to the bleak.

9512 pesserids before time began, a nymph wandering the roads encountered an ogre.

“Raar,” cried the ogre. “Raar! I am a hideous man-eating ogre.”

“Oh, thank Heaven!” the nymph replied.

“Eh?”

“There is a hideous man,” said the nymph. “There is a hideous man behind me, and I would much rather he were eaten.”

The ogre looked.

In fact there was: a telchine wizard practicing as a highwayman, whose intentions were in no way serene.

The ogre looked back and forth. He reached his decision.

“The telchine has more meat,” he said. “So I’ll eat him!”

“I don’t mind being eaten,” the telchine conceded. “If you’ll spit up my bones afterwards into your pile of gold, that I may be rich for ever.”

In such a fashion, again and again throughout the world, were all conflicts neatly and equitably solved. In such a fashion did the chains of Necessity make all people dance to a perfectly harmonious tune. The weight of effort for pulling all those shifting chains fell to the only creature who was not bound to them: Cronos, titan, lord of all the world.

this is about people you can't be around

The Dynamite Trilogy: Konami Thunder Dance

In those days gods walked among us courtesy of Konami Corporation.

DST Nocturne

Now there is no sun and there is no daylight left to save. Now the day is darker than night used to be, in the days when days were bright. Now there are colors darker than black in the sky. Their names are fuligin, imbero, and fhjul.

People used to say that the sun was a phoenix child, born anew every seven years. It has not been born again of late. People used to say that the sun was a fox, fleeing the hunters and their hounds. It has not escaped those hounds of late. People used to say that the sun was a gift of the gods, drawn by horses through the sky. The reins of those horses have lain slack of late, for many dark long years.

we really should get rid of daylight savings time

Hard and Cold

But I have free will.

Except that I don’t. There was a physics wonk in my block. She’d told me about it once. “The future’s the same as the past,” she’d explained. “It’s all written down in the book of the world. The only reason we think any different is that our memory only works one way—aligned against entropy with the ordering of the world. But that’s an illusion. It’s not the truth. The truth is, it’s all just there, future and past, lifeworld and deadworld, hard and cold.”

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