#also this isn't meant to be discourse-y these are just my thoughts and i think part of why tumblr has felt weird for me in recent years | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anomalouscorvid · 11 months

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1, 9, 10, 16, 18, 21, 22 for fallen london🦇🦇🦇

as usual this goes under the cut because i like to type a lot. but a lot of this is '¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i don't know anything about the actual fandom so i couldn't say for certain what my thoughts would be'

1 (the character everyone gets wrong) - well, as someone who doesn't interact with the fandom except for what i see on tumblr and doesn't read fl fanfiction or anything, i'd have no idea lmao, some of the stuff i've heard makes me think the answer to this might be mr veils (but not really) or actually potentially mr apples but i'm just not certain

9 (worst part of canon) - this isn't the worst part for me, but here's a fun opportunity to admit something: it's always annoyed me that curators have arms as well as wings. not just because the anatomy is annoying to get right when drawing (two sets of limbs! in the same space! what are your shoulders meant to be doing) but also because i just think any curator interpretation could be improved with hands on their wings. it just looks more balanced when they only have wings and not separate humanoid arms. and yet it seems like in canon the arms and wings are separate. tragic

anyway space bat limbs aside. i'm sure there's actual probably-the-worst things about canon that should actually be changed but i think any concerns have already been talked about with better wording by others? so i don't know what else i could say here

10 (worst part of fanon) - here's another opportunity for me to admit something that isn't precisely answering this question but i wanted to say it anyway: i don't get why people seem to hate the manager's design in motr. like that's less fanon and more fan reactions to canon but regardless. he seems... fairly alright? accurate enough to how he's described? visually makes me think "yeah that's him"? but apparently people hate the design, i haven't seen a single person talk about it in a positive way. i don't get it maybe there's just like. a fan design that the fandom decided was the only accurate one idk that seems to happen a lot with stuff like this where there's suddenly a canon design after so much time being relevant with no canon design

anyway again i must mention that i don't know anything about the fl fandom that doesn't appear on my tumblr dash. maybe there's a really popular bit of fanon elsewhere that everyone agrees on but i've never seen. maybe everyone agrees that [x character] is totally a snuffer or [y character] is actually a star in disguise or whatever and i had no idea.

i mean apparently there's december discourse and people have actual opinions on it but i didn't even know there was december discourse until recently. i mean yeah there's liberation of night discourse i get that but discourse about December specifically? december of the calendar council the twelfth month? we know like 3 facts about them. what would you even discourse over. about whether or not calling them a borzoi is actually even remotely accurate? (and for the record my view on that is that it totally isn't but i call them a borzoi anyway)

so anyway yeah i don't know enough about popular fanon to make any judgements here

16 (you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)) - why is candles so often drawn as specifically albino? i'm not sure if it's canon or not but i haven't heard of anything mentioning him (?) as albino or leucistic in canon. like yeah the colours fit with the themes i guess but i don't think i've ever seen a fan depiction of candles that didn't include pure white/pigmentless fur. obviously disclaimer that it's not necessarily a bad thing it's just like. wow that appears a lot

18 (it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on…) - the grand devils. so aesthetic! so dead! so.... bugs! not even necessarily the canon ones, i think it'd be cool to see more grand devil ocs, or just devil ocs that don't follow the usual 'human with weird eyes' physical form (i know i don't really have any of those but. regardless i think it'd be very cool to see more of from others.)

21 (part of canon you think is overhyped) - would the masters of the bazaar be too obvious an answer for this one 💔 i just. think there's plenty of other interesting non-human species in the fl universe. yeah not much else to say for this one. i could also say seeking the name or mr eaten as a character in general for this one. but overall there isn't much overhyped in such a small fandom i think?

22 (your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores) - maybe the grand devils also fit as an answer to this question. i haven't really seen anyone talking much about them anywhere, which is fair given their crimes of being monarchs, but it's kind of surprising. i simply think that sometimes people should consider the dead or sort-of-dead bees.

also, maybe this is obvious from a few of my recent fl posts, but i think the god-eaters could be interesting (although there... isn't much to them in canon compared to the other important figures from past cities), and yet i've never really seen anyone acknowledging them (except for maybe, in some cases, mentioning them when talking about mr eaten)

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onwriting-hrarby · 2 years

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Rotten Judgement - On your character's shoes and the fiction

Some days ago, I stumbled across a tweet that made me reflect on how people were seeing my work and what they searched in fiction. Although this isn't meant to be inspired as a reply, I do think that I have some thoughts about fanfiction and the power of fiction that I have been meaning to share with you all since Chapter 3.

When I published Chapter 3—the first chapter in which Eren delves into the past, and we see a glimpse of Grisha being racist, how Eren and Armin meet Mikasa and the internalized racism they offer, and how Mikasa is basically set apart from the other kids not only because of her race but also because of her economical status—I got anxiety over what I was writing, and how people would interpret it. I wrote the longest author's note ever.

I was afraid because I know racism isn't something people look for in fanfiction. One of the criticisms I've gotten is that I've made fiction characters take one stand they didn't embody in canon. Well, the critique is not something I share: I do fanfiction not to recreate canon again, but to use characters I love to explore other sides of the human psyche. I know Eren is not a racist in canon—or Grisha—but in my works, in this distinctive work in fact, I want them to be. It works for my plot. It's OOC? Yes. But the canon material stands, and exists, you're free to go check your Eren every time you want. I don't feel like I'd like to write fanfiction if I were to be constrained into a character's psyche just because it's canon.

Secondly, I know most of us want tropes, and happy endings, and use fanfiction to escape the life, difficult in itself. However, it was one of the main topics in Rotten Judgement because it is one of the main topics in all my fiction. I do not write fiction just to deliver good times—I am selfish myself, and I write about topics that mostly interest me. Even if RJ began as this kind of lighthearted attempt in bringing a 90s, sitcom-y feel to AO3, I couldn't keep up with that: this is not the writer I am. Race, social issues, economical issues, politics, are always embedded in what I write because this is how I live my life. (At the same time, it would be high-nosed of me to pretend that this is what I read—god, please, no. I read, mostly, those fics that make me happy. I'm not even sure I could read what I write in fanfiction, and sometimes I have to say that I skip over the angst fics or the ones that delve into serious topics, so I get the why people wouldn't read my fic! And very thankful if you're one of the ones who do.)

However, and first thing I wanted to say: just because a fic doesn't have what you were looking for, it doesn't invalidate its quality. I'm not talking specifically about RJ (I don't think my fic is worth of the best), but in general —it's something I've been seeing a lot in this fandom, people thinking the story is going one way, or another, and when the author does what they please, they feel that it is not a good story or that is "a lot" (in the negative meaning). Authors don't owe you anything. Works do. There are plenty of good stories with the content you are looking for there. If you feel that the content is not suitable for you, just move on. What's important is that the work, as an independent narrative being, makes sense, and is cohesive and coherent. That's good work, and that's what the readers should strive for, independently of whether it is what they were looking for or not (again, I can understand they look for a certain thing). You don't need to cry it out loud: the content is not usually created for you, it's created as the content itself.

The second issue was to equal the content and the discourse of the work with the discourse of the author and with the politics of the work. We're falling into the same trap we were back in the 50s, and this is the reason why I have talked a lot about censoring books and censoring authors.

This happens because we are equalling the discourse of the work with the politics of the work. Discourse is what the work says, and politics, what the work brings into the mechanism of discourse (I'm sure I'm making this up so forgive me for using terminology out of the right places). For example: a work presents an older man trying to get a younger girl (Lolita). What the work presents: older men can fall in love and be obsessive with younger girls. Politics of the work? Nabokov puts himself in the mind of Humbert Humbert to make you feel uncomfortable, because the politics of the work are romanticizing pedophilia through an unreliable narrator—hence, t ends up criticizing Humbert's decisions. (This brought him lots of problems, as you may know). So the discourse is, in fact, a critique on men like Humbert Humbert.

In the discourse of the work, there's no conversation per se—the conversation arises when we get to the politics of the work. Not all works have politics, some works can be just straight up discoursive, and that's fine (I don't dig them, though). The lack of discourse, however, is when things get ugly, because the authors are not crafty enough to hold a discourse on their own, so they use their own discourse. In those cases, the work lacks discourse and politics, but the reader can see those cases very clearly—it just feels as if they are trying to sell something to you. It's a pamphlet, somehow.

If discourse and politics are done right, however, the work offers some insight into other worlds, other thinkings, sometimes away from hegemonic stands—and we should fight for those discourse and politics to make a better world, although not all of them do (I have a pretty good idea of some works who have shaped some fucked-up politics into real life because they were crafty enough to make readers change their minds while reading the work, but the change was not good per se.)

Now, another tricky thing is to equal the discourse/politics of the characters to the discourse/politics of the author (or the discourse/politics of the work itself, too!). This is even clearer to see in the work itself, since if discourse/politics is difficult to see in plain sight, what the characters think and do is on the outer layer of the narration. So, the fact that it still gets confused with what the author thinks stills befuddles me.

Some comment I've gotten in RJ is that I am racist. My characters do racist things, therefore, by the logic, if I write from the POV of my characters, I must be racist or have internalized racism.

I am, indeed, writing about racism, right? So I write about a boy who's 5 and grows up with a racist, so he is a racist himself. I write about a society fixating on someone's eyes because they have internalized racism, and they think that features make someone different from one another in a negative way, not to celebrate it. I write about a girl who has, herself, internalized those criticisms so much, she is in awe when she discovers she's been hired to work with a bunch of people who are, also, not whites. And if anybody feels that what the characters say, some scenes I write, feel "racist", is because they are meant to feel this way.

They say that it's strange that I am describing Mikasa's eyes, but they fail to see that I am describing them because we're seeing Mikasa through people who have internalized racism as they are young. When Mikasa thinks that is strange to live with a pair of lesbians, this Mikasa is not embodying my thoughts as the author: it's embodying the thoughts of a girl who was brought up in a nun convent and needed her best friend to lend her "The second sex" to understand other identities.

As an author, I strive to put myself in my character's shoes. I want to challenge and question the world, and to be honest, I already know, as a person, where I stand, so to question myself again would be kind of redundant. Selfishly, then, I take the characters and put them in some situations in which questions can arouse (mainly because I think it makes the characters interesting, and the work itself). I've said, again and again, that I am not interested in black/white characters—because people are not like that.

I strive for my characters to have a psyche that comes alive by itself in the plot, and what the characters do and the plot that arises—with its problematics, and their disputes—constitutes the discourse of the characters, which is questioned by the politics of the work, which creates a discourse of the work.

It's like as if one should approach fiction, now, saying: The opinions expressed in the work do not embody the opinions of the author. It gets tiring, isn't it? Aren't we passed that? The true debate about the works should be: do they feel cohesive with the discourse of the characters, what they want to say, how they want to say it? If you're going to criticize my work (please, do), I'd rather you focus on the mechanics of it—does it work the way I'm trying to do that, is it really coming off as my intentions show, or am I not crafty enough and therefore falling into the discourse of the author?. It's much more interesting than to debate whether the characters are racist or not (or if they should be), how that makes you feel, or your vague assumptions about what my ideals behind a piece of work are. Those debates are completely sterile when we speak about fiction and the fiction that I, at least, strive to achieve.

(Again—I understand that if one is not crafty enough, the discourse of the characters can come off as the discourse of the work. This criticism is completely valid, and I wish we could debate in those terms, and not whether what I write means something about me, which to be honest, is past the time we move on from the autofictional/sacred personal place of writing.)

So, even if I feel down when I receive this criticism, a side of me is also happy to be receiving it: it means that this work is striking a chord and that what the characters do and think is horrible enough for them to question whether their psyche is also the author's psyche. I could tell you it is not, but surely, I don't think it's fun to judge a work like this.

The work must work in itself. If it doesn't, it loses all kinds of interest for me—what we authors think is not that interesting sometimes, but what happens in our brain can be.

I hope you enjoy the second part of the fic, in which we will delve into more internalized racism (Eren trying to come to terms with it), Armin and Mikasa's relationship and secrets, Jean discovering what love is, and Historia and Ymir trying to decide if they are hypocrites or not.

#rotten judgement fanfiction #hrarbycraft

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secret-ssociety · 4 years

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Let me down pt.3

Pairing(s): Peter Parker x Reader (platonically), Reader x oc

Warnings: I mean, in my eyes this is pure fluff, but who knows if it will hurt you

Summary: Peter and May have dinner with Y/N’s family, prompting a lot of questions to get an answer.

A/N: oKAY, I know that what happened wasn’t exactly what you expected and and it has taken me so long to write this but it's finally here. I want to thank you all, I never meant for this blow up like it did or to even become a series, honestly when I wrote the first part I was just in a really bad mood and I felt like writing something sad and that came out, but then people started to ask for a second part and well the rest is history. So yeah, I actually want to write even more parts to this so let me know if you would like it. Also, I tagged everyone who asked me to write more to this, but let me know if you want to be removed from the taglist

Masterlist

part one part two

Peter couldn't help but feel like his head was spinning as he walked back home from the metro that night. Claire had sat him down in her bed for almost an hour showing off all of her Avengers stuff. She had a replica of Thor's Mjolnir (and she knew how to pronounce it, which was even more impressing), she had the Spider-Man's Uno she had mentioned (it did make him kind of emotional to see a drawing of him on the package) and she had Iron Man's full suit.

Yeah, he did his best not to cry with the last one.

Even if she hadn’t ran up to you screaming ‘mommy’, he would’ve known that she was your daughter. Claire had your hair, your eyes, your nose, even when the rest of her tiny face was more like Mark’s. The corners of her eyes wrinkled the same way yours did when you smiled and she was as energetic as you, she got lost in her own thoughts just like her you used to do.

He had been counting the seconds to be out of your house and be able to break down on the guardianship of his loneliness, but when he found himself walking down the street after dinner... he just didn't.

Peter had gone to school that day being sure that as soon as he saw you, something would be okay, and even if it hadn't gone according to the plan, he hadn't been wrong. Something was okay: you were okay. You had a career, a good job, a loving husband, a perfect daughter, a beautiful family.

You had a great life and, most importantly, you were willing to welcome him in it, so yeah, maybe things were going to be okay.

So when Claire asked him to dinner with them again at the end of the week, and you said you wanted to say hi to May, he just couldn't refuse. That's how he ended up standing in front of your house again, with May by his side this time, holding a cherry pie they had placed and decorated on a plate as if to pretend they hadn't bought it from the grocery store.

As soon as the door opened, Peter handed the dessert to May, because he was prepared for the moment Claire jumped to his arms to greet him. You smiled openly at May, trying to blink away the tears in your eyes at the sight of the woman who had given you a place to call home everytime you felt like your own house was not it.

Both Peter and Mark noticed how you tried to keep your composure when her arms wrapped you in a warm embrace.

"Sorry, I'm a mess," you muttered in apology, trying to wipe your eyes without messing up your mascara.

"You look beautiful," May corrected, making your eyes wet all over again. "It smells amazing," she said suddenly, changing the subject to give you a chance to calm down, "what are you cooking?"

"Oh, I'm not cooking," you clarified rushing them inside, Peter still carrying the little girl in his arms, "Mark is. I somehow manage to burn the water."

"You could always make PB and jelly sandwiches," Peter said with an amused smile, earning a fond laugh from your lips, as if you shared an inside joke.

Only when Mark received the pie from May's hands did Peter notice that he was wearing a purple apron over his white unbuttoned shirt, and he couldn't help the sting in his heart at how perfect he was. He kindly apologized at the fact that the meat still needed a few more minutes on the oven, because he had been held back a little longer than expected at the office.

"What's that smell?" You asked, frowning.

"Daddy, the aspargaroos!" Claire exclaimed instantly, clearly unaware of how to pronounce asparagus, as she wiggled to let Peter know she wanted to be back on the ground. The tiny human ran behind her father into the kitchen, ready to do the damage control.

You decided to grab a bottle of white wine (and another Capri Sun for Peter) while her husband and daughter tried to resolve the asparagus crisis. He tried to pay attention to the conversation the two women in front of him were maintaining, but it was like they were talking in some foreign, alien, grown up language he couldn't understand.

This time, you took a little longer to finish your glass of wine than the last bottle you had opened, which had been a week ago when Peter had showed up in your doorstep. You were trying your best to hide your excitement talking to May, but you couldn't help the profound feeling of pride that took over your chest when you saw her eyes glimmer with amazement as they explored around the living room, where the pictures and prices of all of your family's accomplishments were displayed.

Peter was the first to notice Mark come out of the kitchen with a sheepish smile, "alright, so, the asparagus isn't salvageable, er, how do you feel about KFC salad?"

That's how they found themselves sitting at the round dinner table eating steak with a mushroom sauce Claired had been the one to think about, roasted potatoes and KFC salad, because apparently the always ordered some extra salad on their takeaways and stuffed them in the fridge.

"So..." May started, eyeing the young couple nervously. "There is so much to talk about. How... you... well..."

"How did I end married and with a kid at twenty three?" You finished for her, saving a sigh to yourself although you felt your husband tense a little beside you. The more you two heard that question, the more annoying it got, even when you knew May didn't mean to offend you.

Of course you knew you were young, and that many people your age couldn't handle such commitments, you didn't need people telling you that constantly. You had heard the same discourse from teachers, employers, even neighbors you had never talked to, it quickly got old and you tried not to become aggressive everytime you heard it.

Mark and you had a happy, healthy marriage, with a wonderful daughter that had brought light into a world as dark as yours was since the blip. You had good jobs that allowed you to have a stable economy and also take care of your family. You were happy, what else mattered? If you wanted opinions or needed help, you would certainly ask for it.

You never once had.

Still, you responded kindly, "well, we met in college, Princeton," you mentioned, earning two proud looks from your guests. "We were in different programs, so we met specifically through a praying group."

"That had never really been my thing," Mark picked up, "praying and all that God related talk bored me, but most of family and friends had been blipped... I was lonely. So I thought maybe I should give it a try."

"I honestly thought he had gone for the food, because when the meeting was over he looked like he hadn't understood a single word."

"Because I hadn't."

"A friend and I decided to come and talk to him, but after she left we hung out a little longer," you tried to hide the cheesy smile that took over your lips, but you looked over at Mark, who hasn't trying to hid his, and couldn't. "I don't know how to explain it, something about that moment just felt" you shrugged shyly "right."

The memories of you staying on the library, hiding behind the stacks of books so that no one would notice you trying to stay inside after it closed and talking the whole night long never failed to raise goosebumps along your skin. He would offer to read for you when your eyes got tired of working with the dim light that entered through the window, even when he was a law major and didn't understand a single word on the neuroscience and robotic books you were always studying.

It was soon after getting to know him, you just knew Mark had been made for you. There was something in the way you could see in his eyes that crowds freaked him out and that he tried not to cry after talking to his mom in the phone, something in the way he understood your whimpers in the days where anything above a mutter was just too much, that you knew this awkwardly tall curious guy was meant to cross your path.

"Things moved pretty fast after that," you continued, hoping you hadn't zoomed out for too long, "like 'we got married eight months after' fast."

May did her best to hide her surprise, while Peter choked on the salad. Was listening to your loving tone as you told the story easy? No, not at all. He wanted to throw up. Peter was still hopelessly in love with you, even when you were now five years older, even when you had a husband and a child, even when it was ridiculous and impossible, because for him it hadn't been years, it just had been months.

"Claire came soon after that," Mark concluded after pouring some more juice on Peter's glass and asking him if he was okay. "And all of this happened throughout college?"

"We had a really good support system," he nodded, smiling down at Claire, who had made a mess over her chicken sandwich. "A really good amount of friends willing to babysit whenever we had to work, understanding teachers who let us bring Claire to our lectures. My mom and Y/N's parents were also a great help."

"We were both on scholarships that gave us some allowances to support ourselves each month, too," you added. "It wasn't much, but it helped."

"And what are you working on now?" May switched to a conversation that would probably be easier on her nephew.

"Well, Mark is an associate on a buffet in Manhattan," you said grabbing your husband's hand. "What's your approach?" Peter asked, somewhat genuinely curious.

"Environmental law," he replied proudly.

"And I-"

"Mommy builds robot limbs!" Claire exclaimed excitedly, prompting a laugh on the others.

"Before I graduated, I got a job as lab assistant on a research for neuro prosthetics," you explained, "and after graduating, they hired me as researcher. Basically what we're trying to do is to create a non-invasive implant we can connect to the brain and spinal cord that controls robotic prosthetics for people who have lost limbs or return movement to paralyzed body sections."

Peter's skin prickled at the description of the research, for it was one he had known before it all went crumbling down. A memory flashed through his eyes, Tony helping his friend walk after he had been injured in Germany, on his first mission.

"That's..."

"A Stark Industries' research, yes," you nodded solemnly.

"Y/N told me you had an internship with Tony Stark before... it all happened," Mark commented carefully. Peter's head practically snapped in his direction, then, more subtly, in yours. You shook head slightly, almost imperceptibly, but clearly enough to let Peter know you hadn't told his secret.

"You met Tony Stark?" Claire asked him with a bright light in her eyes, one that Peter had seen thousands of times on other kids that, very much like himself, dreamt every night of robots and technologies that could change the world.

"Yes."

"How was he?"

Peter thought for a few seconds about his answer. What was Tony Stark? He was charming, sure, but he wasn't exactly friendly. He was a genius, yet he had never let that cloud his judgement. He had trouble expressing himself, but he always made sure the people around knew how much they meant to him. Suddenly Peter understood why Shakespeare was always making up words, there were just some things, some people, the english language wasn't extensive enough to describe, so he said the best he could come up with.

"He was the most amazing guy I ever met."

You smiled down at your nearly empty plate, it was impossible to forget how much had mr. Stark meant for Peter. Even when you guys broke up and cut off all communication, you still prayed for him to always be under the wing of his mentor. You couldn’t imagen what it was like for Peter to live in a world where Tony Stark was no longer there to help him walk through life.

Hopefully, you would be able to do that in his absence.

taglist: @eridanuswave @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @lovely-geek @princessdancingonthesunshine @marvel4geeks @hedwigprewett12 @dummiesshort @alyssasanchezz14 @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme

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