#i was thinking about it Non Stop i think it was my first major hyperfixation and tbh i dont think any since then has been as intense | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blue-jisungs · 1 month

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SO BEAUTIFUL

author's note. can u tell what i was hyperfixation on when i wrote this?! a cookie for those who answer correctly (emoji) btw this song is one of my faves when it comes to ian :( right after violet crazy and scaredy cat.......... however his whole discography is just mindblowing so its hard to have a 1 fav song ngl <//3

summary. idk man just whipped prince!joshua ...

genre. atla-ish !! its not the main plot but there's mention of element benders lolzies, royal setting (prince!joshu, army general!y/n), situationship/non-established relationship between them

warnings. blood, wounds (kinda descriptive, im sorry), fighting, mention of war and killing people (i mean yn is in army so....), cursing, one suggestive joke but i mean,, it was there like... it was stronger than me..., not a warning but emphasis on fem reader, yn kinda has a breakdown :(

word count. 3878

joshua ran his hand through his hair, letting out a small sigh. he was reading a book but his mind seemed unable to focus as the words and sentences didn’t make sense in his head.

“you’ve been reading this one single page for ten minutes now, your highness” he heard seungkwan’s teasing voice and just looked up at his friend.

“i’m aware of that, seungkwan” joshua mumbled and put the bookmark between the pages, leaving the item on a small table.

he bit his lip and looked outside the window, the sight of mountains bringing him some peace.

joshua’s mind was uneasy due to the late return of his army. and his absence at the battlefield.

the news of victory brought by his right hand and good friend, minghao, definitely caused him to sleep better. but before that, there had been weeks of days filled with stress and anxiety. and now, for unknown reasons the army’s arrival was postponed – and there was no message.

“i’m sure general l/n has everything under control” seungkwan’s voice brought joshua back to reality and he subconsciously smiled upon hearing your last name.

maybe that was the reason why he was constant concern. he was worried about you. no, it wasn’t like he doubted your fighting abilities it’s just… anything could happen on the battle ground. besides, you weren’t a bender. obviously, every caring prince would be worried about his subordinates. the matter was that it was your first serious battle all alone. usually he was there too. or at least seungcheol, who was his father’s military advisor – also very skilled in combat. but due to his injury and the medics sharp warning he wasn’t able to go.

joshua sighed quietly and stood up, lazily walking up to his balcony. the cold air hugged his face, a refreshing breeze filling his lungs.

another cause of his stress was… well, you’re a woman. it’s not like women don’t hold high positions in society and are well respected in the water kingdom but… army was mostly men. who knew if any of the soldiers didn’t cause you trouble.

“i don’t think that the ball is a good idea…” joshua mumbled, tracing shapes on the marble railing.

“whether you like it or not, your mother had already decided. majority of our alliances arrived” seungkwan shrugged and turned around upon the sound of knocking. joshua looked through his shoulder, expectant.

it was minghao.

it must have been good news since he was shining.

“they’re here”

before the prince could pass him in the door, minghao cleared his throat.

“y/n is resting though”

joshua stopped in his tracks, not even realising there's a smile that appeared – dropped now slowly.

“is she hurt?” he asked, worry in his voice. seungkwan closed the balcony door and joined the water kingdom’s prince's side.

“no, no. not as far as i know. she’s just exhausted and needs to prepare for the ball. and the paper work, losses and such… it’d be better if you didn’t bother her” minghao suggested softly. “wonwoo is to your disposal though”

wonwoo, the lieutenant general. that’s fine, he’ll just ask about you.

joshua nodded and left in silence. seungkwan and minghao exchanged playful looks.

joshua could not sit still. his mother sent him numerous looks but his eyes weren’t focused at her at all. he scanned the crowd in search of you.

his mother was oh so kind to postpone the ball to the next day, letting the soldiers rest. as he noticed, most of them made it. you surely would be here too, right? you were the general after all.

then it struck him like thunder.

there you were, in the midst of people. a flowy, light blue dress on your body gently falling onto the floor. he knew you got the access to the best sewers in the kingdom but this time… your dress really reminded him of water. maybe it was the silver linings in it? or just the lightness of the fabric? either way, you looked angelic. and with your hair loose, falling like waterfalls on your shoulders.

as the great warrior you were, you sensed his gaze on you. sending him a small smile, looking from above your companion’s shoulder, joshua sighed dreamily.

your lips moved and then you walked past the man you talked to, stepping directly into joshua’s direction. he cleared his throat, his sight on you.

“my queen” you hummed and bowed gently to his mother first, then you held eye contact with him with another bow “my prince”

“general l/n, you’re truly the shining star of our army. we’ve heard the tales and i must say, i admire your vigour and dedication” his mother said. you bowed again.

“thank you, my queen. i’m proud i can serve our country” you nodded, smiling gently. joshua adored your face, not being able to get enough of it. especially after your three-months long absence.

“mother if you don’t mind, you’ll hear the stories later. now i’m going to kidnap general l/n for a minute”

before you knew it, his hand tenderly interlocked with yours as he lead you to the dance floor. landing in the middle, below the silver chandelier that lit up your face in the prettiest ways possible, the prince placed a feather-light kiss atop of your hand.

the music started, the royal sounds of cello and violins ripping through air; joshua led the dance, his ebony eyes scanning your face. his features were overtaken by the look of how much he missed you, you could tell it by his eyes only. the soft curve of his smile made your heart melt, fingers brushing against his neck.

“so beautiful” he hummed deeply, heart almost aching with joy. why was it like this? he thought he thought it through but now he was just confused; why does his heart hurt when you’re finally within his reach?

”so, so beautiful” joshua repeated, daring to glance at your lips “i missed you dearly”

you huffed, letting him sway to the rhythm of music. because he was an excellent water bender, he was one with the flow – whether it was his element or music. he guided you through the sounds of instruments, which made you emotional. hearing the sound of them after months away from your homeland…

“aren’t you tired? are you fine?” joshua asked, care in his voice. he had you so close yet so far. in his arms but unable to caress your cheek or kiss your lips.

you shook your head, scanning his face. maybe you missed him too, after all.

“i’m perfectly fine now” you whispered and his look was more expressive than words; he understood what you meant: you missed him too.

the melody came to a halt and it was like a string snapped in front of your eyes, the sudden sound of chatter making you go back to reality.

“i’m sure there’s plenty of young ladies willing to dance with you. i shall not keep you busy” you said. joshua opened his mouth, protesting.

“let’s take a trip down a darker place, the garden has really improved when you were absent” he almost whined, begging with his eyes so you’d spare him even a mere moment alone.

suddenly, wonwoo approached you. he leaned in to whisper something in your ear, concern on his face. you nodded, features getting colder than snow blasting in the harshest of winters. he knew that look, it meant trouble; it meant an approaching threat.

“i’d be more than willing to. however, there happened to be an urgent matter that needs to be taken care of. i…” you hesitated and sent a look to wonwoo. he understood since he left right away. only then quiet words left your mouth “i’ll meet you in your chamber later, shu”

his heart skipped a beat, nodding. his eyes followed your figure, finally at peace that you’re back.

an outsider would never think that you’re a general, one of the skillest people in the kingdom when it came to combat. whilst being a non-bender, which was quite impressive. you were just so… flowy, glowing and gentle. oh, gentle you truly were…

“...the fuck you mean we had a tail?” you hissed, poking wonwoo’s chest and then taking a deep sigh “well fuck me, that’s just fucking great!”

“i bet your highness would want to do that” wonwoo cleared his throat, your hand slapping his arm in an instant.

“lieutenant general jeon, i ask you to behave accordingly to the situation. there is a risk of coup, the life of the royal bloodline is on the line and you dare to make a joke?” you said coldly, making wonwoo shiver. then, you suddenly snickered “i do admire your timing though. and now tell me more”

you and wonwoo were close, it’s not like it was out of his manner to joke like this. but the fact that there might be a spy in the castle right now…

“chan came across the traces and him and others made an assumption we’re followed by an fire nation soldier who survived the battle” wonwoo gave you the details.

your light dress rustled on the late afternoon wind, breeze running through its fabric. you closed our eyes, fingers tightening on the marble railing of a terrace.

there were two choices in this situation: announce there might be a spy and transport the royal family into a guarded place, which may result in panic and rumours spreading (including those about your incompetence). however, the spy might run off or give in. the second option: stay silent and don’t let anyone suspect a thing, take care of the spy with your own hands. risks: people getting hurt, especially the king or queen. or prince.

“do we know where they might be now?” you asked, looking through your shoulder at the crowded ballroom. chatter, dancing, music… people living to the fullest. and joshua being there too.

“we do have suspicions that they might be nearby, we found some traces near your… your, um, house” wonwoo answered, your eyes shifting.

“so they want me, huh?” you sighed. that was far better than the royals getting hurt. staring at the sunset, a wide palette of oranges and yellows melting into one, you nodded. “inform the guards, keep an eye on any suspicious activity. i’ll go check if they’re still around my place. report immediately if anything happens”

“yes, general” wonwoo saluted and walked away, feeling the breath of urgency on his neck.

adoring the sunset for a little longer, watching it morph into a navy night sky; you decided to go before it got too dark.

joshua was walking around his chamber, footsteps echoing due to the largeness of it. it was past midnight, almost 6 hours since you left the ballroom… did you change your mind? you didn’t want to come?

he let out a deep sigh, plopping on his bed and staring at the book he was reading.

joshua was a prince and enjoyed literature, he has read countless and countless books and genres. he especially found an interest in old romance but all of them had a similar scheme when it came to relationships: the woman was the one to be head over heels whipped for the guy. she’d blush when someone mentioned his name, she’d miss him dearly when he’s on his adventurous voyages, she’d dream of him even in her sleep. he never read a book with an opposite order of things. and yet… here he was, waiting for you like a lost puppy. while his heart sought after you, his mind was worried about your wellbeing during your army shenanigans, he longed to hear, see or touch you even for a mere moment longer.

huffing like an displeased child, he laid on the bed. if you come, you come. and he’ll be asleep. that way, you’ll know he doesn’t cares that deeply—

knock knock. knock knock knock knock.

joshua frowned, sitting up. it could be you but… it wasn’t your usual knock.

the door opened with a quiet creak. you were leaning against the doorframe , upper body leaning forward with hair falling on your face.

“took you long enough” joshua mumbled and stood up, when you suddenly started sliding down the doorframe lifelessly. he ran up to you, kneeling down and grabbing your hands. frighteningly cold hands “what’s wrong?”

his voice remained strong unlike his heart. you gathered all your willpower and raised your head, fighting the dropping eyelids.

“my back…” you croaked out, leaning forward but only ending up in his embrace.

he did not image your reunion like that.

joshua gently moved his hands to your back and his fingers met with something… sticky…? the flowy material of your dress was ripped, the warmth of the liquid contrasting with the low temperature of your body.

“y/n, what happened?” he asked, voice stern yet revealing a hint of worry.

“i’ll explain later just… help me, shu. please” you breathed out, the air tickling his neck. joshua gulped, his adam’s apple bobbing, and he grabbed you in bridal style.

placing you on his queen sized bed, rolling gently to the side, his mind was racing with thoughts. what happened? were you attacked? was it a fresh wound?

“i’ll rip the dress, only on the back. i apologize, ill buy you thousands of new ones just… breathe for me, alright?” he stuttered, putting on some light.

only then his eyes saw how serious was your wound. he took a sharp inhale, throat going dry.

there was a deep wound going across your back, left arm to almost the side of your right hip. it looked like a sword left such a mark.

joshua quickly opened the handy tap he had in his chamber and didn’t bother to pour it into bowl.

he bent water straight from the tap, focusing deeply. trying to connect with his inner peace and energy but his rapid heartbeat seemed to disturb him too much.

“focus, jisoo” he grunted to himself, slender fingers shaking “y/n, talk to me. you need to stay conscious”

“won’t talking take my oxygen that i desperately need–” you started.

“yeah, you’re right. be quiet” he scoffed, trying to light up the mood. then he moved his hands slowly from the beginning to your wound to the end of it. very slowly, surely. still like water, his palms flat but fingers directing the stream of liquid. you groaned, curling your back.

it wasn’t the first time joshua was patching you up but it definitely was the first time he knew it’s dead serious… and seeing you in such pain.

another thing was that at the back of his mind there was a sprouting thought that he won’t be able to close the wound completely. not with his heart all over the place.

joshua took a deep breath, focusing on the element flowing through his body. not on you… in pain… bleeding out on his bed…

“’m sorry”

at first, he didn’t hear it. only when he heard a sob, he realized that it’s you.

“hey, no. don’t apologize, that’s an order. it’s a deep wound, i know it hurts but im trying my best and we’ll talk it out later.

inch by inch, millimetre by millimetre, thanks to his healing abilities your skin started clasping the wound. he wasn’t sure which technique to use – layer by layer or pieces at once but the crimson liquid pouring out of your pale back made him chose the first one. which will lead to leaving a scar.

joshua began to feel worn out, despite all the hours of training that prepared him for such situations. but he knew that if he stopped now, you could die.

“shu…” you mumbled, shaking like a leaf. your voice was quiet, weak. he felt time slipping through his fingers.

brows knitting, sweat dripping down his temple, joshua shook his head. despite strength leaving him, he promised himself to restore as much as possible.

you looked through your arm, pearly tears shimmering in the moonlight. joshua’s heart ached, as if someone put a needle right through it.

“i know, i’m sorry but i beg, a few more minutes…” he croaked, feeling lightheaded.

“you’re exhausting yourself, stop it” a whisper escaped your lips “shu, please”

“no, you need to live” he grunted. you frowned and tried to sit up, causing him to gasp “are you insane?”

“give me the bandage and go call the medics. i don’t want you to pass out” you ordered, reaching for his hand.

joshua put the last ounces of water and energy into your body, leaning to close the tap. then, he dug in one of his drawers.

you were still bleeding but far less than when you barged in. he handed you the material and wiped the tears, sweat and blood off your face.

“i’ve got this now. go get some help, please” you sent him a weak smile.

joshua cursed mentally and left quickly. you were probably right.

once he was back with jun, jihoon and seokmin, they took care of you. the oldest one gave you some herbs that would put you to sleep as they worked on your wound. joshua insisted that it all took place inside his chamber.

they were done around 3am, leaving you two alone. the prince managed to get rid of the blood stained duvet and covered you in a blanket that was on his couch.

them, he laid down next to you. the moonlight shone on your pale face, parted lips making an escape for soft snores. your chest was rising up and down a lot more calmly, joshua could feel your energy being more vivid that before. it was stable now, like a steam of water in the woods rather than dried out lake.

“you always have to cause some trouble, huh?” he scoffed and reached his hand out, caressing your cheek gently. even in deep slumber after getting hurt you were so beautiful.

he noticed your brows furrowing and fingers twitching. your breathing sped up, yet you remained asleep. joshua observed you cautiously.

“no… don’t… don’t kill him” you mumbled, shifting in your sleep. his eyes widened, realizing you’re having a nightmare “anyone but… but my shu”

joshua’s heart melted on spot, pleasant warmth flooding his insides.

“you can’t even get a rest, can you?” he huffed and shuffled closer, guiding your head onto his chest. you instantly nuzzled closer, arms instinctively wrapping around his body.

with an uneasy mind, he caressed your hair. your breathing calmed down so he wondered if the nightmare went away.

joshua stuck his gaze into the open window, unable to relax. stars barely shone on the navy horizon, covered by clouds. it seemed like the sky couldn’t sleep either.

upon stirring awake you instantly knew (even without opening your eyes) that you’re in joshua’s bed. it was much more softer than your bed but above all, it had the comfort. you felt warm and secure; cozy in his hold. joshua had his arm wrapped around you, fingers tracing shapes on your skin.

peeking an eye open you noticed he’s holding a book with his other hand, eyes tracking the text.

you wanted to stay like this forever.

then, a stinging pain ran through your back and you trembled, causing him to shift his worried gaze at you. he gasped softly.

“you’re awake” joshua hummed and leaned closer, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

you melted because of the gesture, nuzzling further into his neck.

“how do you feel?” he asked, worry in his voice.

“better, much better. thank you, shu. i apologize for the mess i made” you mumbled, resting his palm on his chest. he put his hand over it, caressing your skin.

joshua missed this so much. he missed you.

silence was hanging between you two, an unspoken question of “what happened?” hanging above your head.

“may i see wound?” he asked suddenly. you nodded, your hair tickling his skin.

he helped you sit straight and handed you one of his sleeping cloth to cover the front of your body.

joshua gently moved your hair from your back, his fingertips ghosting over your skin. goosebumps covered your arms.

“you know… you always say i’m so beautiful” you started quietly. joshua hummed in acknowledgment to let you know that he’s listening. then, he shuffled something closer and put it on the bed “but i’m not. i’m so ugly, joshua. my soul is ugly”

“that is not true, y/n” he protested sternly as his delicate fingers worked on removing the bandage. his touches were soft, almost as if he was afraid to touch you.

“i’m a soldier, shu. i hurt people. and yesterday… there was a spy. he sneaked up on me, threatened to kill you. and that triggered me i just… couldn’t bare that thought. and i saw red… he used my distraction and tripped me, slicing in the back” you stuttered, throat going dry “i’m a failure. i almost let him escape, your life was at risk and i couldn’t control my emotions…”

his movement halted for a while, the quietness od the room making your soft pants sound much more louder than you’d like to.

“you are not a failure. you had led our army to victory, several times” joshua resumed and you felt the calming stream of water. then, you felt a soothing sensation spreading over your wound.

joshua was bending to recover your wound, or at least make it heal quicker and more effectively.

“yeah but… i’m a bad person” you mumbled, playing with your fingers.

he stopped bending and put a new bandage over your wound, it still not being clasped fully.

joshua patted your arm and you put his shirt on, turning around.

“you know why i always say you’re so beautiful?” joshua asked and once you faced him, he grabbed your chin gently “obviously i mean your looks too but above all, i treasure your soul. you’re such a pure, dedicated human”

you swallowed, his soft features warming your heart.

“this situation must have made you feel upset and not worthy but you’re so appreciated. my your subordinates, friends… by me. as much as i admire your readiness to sacrifice for me but please, i beg, don’t do it next time” joshua hummed, his thumb moving in soothing manner “i’d rather die myself than live without you”

“don’t say that” you scoffed, shaking your head gently “our country needs a leader”

“and i need you” joshua replied, moving his hands to cup your face “please, y/n. you’re so precious to me… so–“

“if you say beautiful i’ll smack you” you let out a laugh and he couldn’t help but share a smile.

“but it’s true” he grinned and closed the gap between you two, lips crashing on yours. you shared a passionate kiss, a one that lovers after reunion share.

but truth be told, you were like all those lovers in old tales.

and maybe this time, there’s going to be a flawless ending: making it official.

main masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @eternalgyuuu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu

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neurodivergantizzetwitch · 5 days

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ive been hearing a lot of legitimate criticism of will wood and his fan base from people who like his music, but see him as a pretentious white guy, and his fanbase as an extension of that.

now i havent been in the ww fandom v long, but given the depths i have gone in it i feel at least somewhat comfortable saying im not sure exactly where this impression is coming from.

i see him writing very eclectic erratic and idiosyncratic songs, and people having a variety of interpretations of them, and i can see how that might come off as pretentiousness, especially bc some of his fans really do cross a line in terms of a gatekeepy parasocial attachment to will

but i haven't really seen anyone going THIS IS THE ONLY WAY TO INTERPRET THIS SONG YOURE STUPID IF YOU DONT SEE IT or smth to that effect

i acknowledge tho that there is also some legitimate background to this perception, bc what i have seen is:

-will playing characters live and joking w his audience in ways that are often either easily misinterpreted or clearly just someone with extreme mental health issues

-will being maybe mildly annoyed at how his fans often... over analyze his songs and upset when they overstep boundaries, and sometimes expressing that in non ideal ways.

-wills fans being incredibly obsessed with him and his music, which to the outside observer can be annoying i think (but honestly this to me reads more as a bunch of nd ppl w who have hyperfixated/have a special interest related to him)

-the lyrics to wills songs all being very confusing, especially the farther back in his discography you go, and his fans acting like their meanings are obvious on a first glance even when they arent (which is all the time)

-will pulling references from sources that can be seen as pretentious and off putting, esp when coming from a white guy (taoism, it's always sunny, modern psychology, 'classic' films, name dropping authors of philosophy, etc.)

-wills stances often being contrarian and often (especially on first glance) seemingly being that way purely for the sake of being contrarian

-will explaining his stances in fancy and grandiloquent language (a note on this one in particular: i think of this as not really a sign of being pretentious, potentially bc of my own struggles w it. i often accidentally use a bunch of complicated words and descriptions that wouldn't make sense to me if i was the one hearing them, not because im trying to be exclusionary or come off as ✨intelligent✨, but bc it was explained to me in those terms and i went through the process of studying it in that terminology and being told i had to use that terminology, and now im too dumb to translate what im thinking back into language that's actually comprehensible)

but i feel that a lot of these things are really overstated in how often they happen. by and large, i think a lot of this response is a misreading of the facts that his fanbase is really passionate to a somewhat obsessive degree, will is very passionate about the things he likes and the things he believes in, and both will and the majority of his fan base are pretty mentally unstable and/or neurodivergent.

from what ive seen, will isn't trying to be pretentious in any way and is legitimately just expressing himself. his fanbase despite their occasional issues are ultimately pretty much just very passionate people. and also he does not hate them! to quote the man himself

"guys, i don't hate you! stop telling people i hate you! stop doing that; i like you people! 99.999 percent of you are really good, and 99.999 percent of the people who piss me off are just going through it! i don't know where people are getting this idea the whole like 'will wood hates his fandom' yeah i know i said i hate you all in that song but... you know, it's a song! i like you guys."

if you have counter info/arguments though id love to see them. im always looking for new perspectives, and as i said ive *just* started listening to will wood and looking into his lore. i couldve totally missed smth and id love to hear it if i have.

#will wood #william woodiam #will wood criticism #neurodivergent

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a-really-good-lawyer · 5 months

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Something I never see people talk about (which could be because I simply haven't come across it) is how rough forming a new hyperfixation can be, especially a core hyperfixation.

I've loved Star Trek for years. But for whatever reason, it wasn't until a couple years ago that something in my brain *clicked* and it became a new core hyperfixation.

In some ways it was better than past such hyperfixations because there is so much Star Trek out there to consume, between shows and films and then the fandom content because this fandom has been alive and well for over 50 years, gave birth to modern fandom.

But that didn't change the fact that, for the ensuing six months, it consumed my life - and not in the fun, tongue-in-cheek way we say 'this fandom consumes my life', like semi-hyperbole.

When I say it consumed my life, I mean it was near non-stop hyperfocus for months.

My apartment was constantly a mess, same as my sense of time. My sleep schedule was constantly erratic. I was often dehydrated, had frequent headaches, often found myself shaking from all the adrenaline surges. I dropped fifteen pounds almost without noticing (weight I shouldn't have dropped).

I was always drained, always disoriented, always distracted. It didn't feel good. Really, it felt distinctly bad, and I felt completely out of control to make it stop. If I made myself ignore the media and fic and fan art and all of that, it just meant I sank into myself, got lost in my head for hours on end.

After the first two months it began to gradually, slowly ease up, and when I hit around six months it stopped feeling like I was being dragged along and started to feel the way I want when it comes to hyperfixations - it was fun, mood-boosting. Engaging with it improved my mental health, instead of causing it, along with my physical health, to deteriorate.

That was probably the worst 'epsiode' I've had, but I've had them several times. The one when I developed the Daredevil hyperfixation thankfully lasted only two months, same as when it was FMA:B and BBC Merlin, and...three months, I think, for Star Wars? The one that got closest was Smallville, my first fandom hyperfixation, though I imagine some of that had to do with it coming out when I first had regular internet access. That one was maybe four or five months, and was dragged out by the fact that I was in high school so I was 'forced' away from it all by the anxiety of college applications and AP exams and all that fun stuff.

I love having these things. They've been good for me, for my emotional welfare - have helped me survive so much. I never regret that initial rough aspect, not that I've ever had the power to do things differently.

But it is rough, and one of the aspects of neurodivergence I've had the most trouble explaining to neurotypical people. They see it as simple obsession or addiction, something that I fell into and need to take steps to pull myself out of, rather than something that my brain just does at the drop of a hat and which won't stop until I go through that process. Trying not to, trying to mitigate it, just ends up dragging that process out. It can't be reduced or bypassed. It's just part of how my brain works.

And people trying to interfere with that, to 'fix' that by making me pay attention to other things, giving me tasks, whatever it may be - it does nothing to change it. If anything, it makes the whole thing much more destabalizing, in ways that can have major consequences for my state of mind, and I've had the experiences to prove it.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this, but I just...wanted to put it out there. I think there can be shame attached to this reality - shame I've felt, and which I've come to recognize originates from neurotypical social expectations and a lack of understanding.

If this is something you've dealt with and have been shamed for, I hope this post can give you some comfort. It isn't a failing, isn't deviant, isn't indulgent. It just is, and you aren't bad or broken or weak because of it.

#neurodivergent #adhd #asd #hyperfixations #riker.talks #fandom

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secretgamergirl · 11 months

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Just a Reminder - You Don’t Win a Prize if Nazis Hate You the Most.

When I run down my tumblr feed, about once every day or two I see a chain of posts being shared by people I like which are kinda just a big back and forth shouting match starting from a post saying either “as a Jew, I hate seeing trans people talking about being Holocaust victims too” or “trans women aren’t threatened by transphobes as much as trans men!” and... these are just the absolute worst fights to try and pick. Stop doing this.

Presumably there’s other variations on this going on and I’ll condemn all those too, it’s just these two, specifically, are the ones I just keep seeing crop up, so they’re what I’m gonna highlight for now.

So, the holocaust. Pretty sure we all agree that the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft public book burning is one of the more powerful images to demonstrate why Nazis need to be completely eradicated that does not feature a pile of corpses. I also don’t think anyone is in disagreement that Magnus Hirschfield, who ran said institute was a Jew, nor that the bulk of his staff and the subject matter of these original research journals were Pretty Darn Trans.

I DO see people though making really damn stupid arguments though like, “right, they burned his books because he was a Jew, it had nothing to do with their contents,” and that’s just factually untrue. There is a truckload of solid documentation about Nazis having stupid conspiracy theories and pseudoscience to justify genocide against, in no particular order, Jewish, Romani, Black, queer, and disabled people. Also Jehovah’s Witnesses. Lot of wild crap explicitly connecting these too, case in point, they claim trans people in particular and queer people broadly are monsters created by Jewish doctors to infiltrate society and throw a wrench into the ability of physically and mentally perfect white men to have white women barefoot and perpetually pregnant in the kitchen popping out enough babies to maintain a huge majority and not be overtaken by all those subhuman other races. It’s all a bundle deal. Any of these type of people the hate have the height justified with their role in this grand sinister conspiracy.

And even if that WEREN’T true, and it really was that Nazis hate Jews and only Jews and all these other people they keep trying to completely exterminate are collateral damage from plans to take out specific Jews that had some really bad scope creep and splash damage, they’ve still got the body count. That’s still part of the Holocaust and denying those deaths is messed up for the same reasons as every other weird claim bigots make (and to be clear, there is no non-bigoted reason to be doing this) to minimize the Holocaust, but also, rather crucially, please note that I keep speaking in the first person. We still have Nazis, they’re still hell bent on killing all these same groups of people, they’ve been doing a pretty good job lately of getting the sort of power needed to act on it, and they’ve been acting on it. If you’re in one of these groups, you should really be focused on getting rid of the Nazis and not whatever the hell this historical revisionist dick measuring crap is.

Meanwhile on the trans infighting front, the way society at large hyperfixates on weird stereotypes and propaganda vaguely trans-woman-shaped far right boogiemen is Pretty Damn Bad. It’s terrible for trans women because there’s this significant portion of the population trying to identify, locate, and murder us. It’s terrible for trans men because the messed up discriminatory crap targeting them specifically gets basically zero public attention except in those weird cases where it gets bafflingly twisted into something about trans women (I’ve seriously seen like... anti-abortion and transphobic pregnancy-related-legal-language stuff pushed with weird scaremongering about trans women “wanting changes in language to not say mothers” so that we can waste doctors time LARPing abortion procedures or some weird crap like that). It’s terrible for nonbinary people because all the weird polarization messes with basic scientific understanding and some transition care gets screwed by people trying to make really ironclad policies. Heck it sucks for cis women who fit whatever weird profile the people trying to murder us apply, and men whose commitment to masculine presentation is insufficient to avoid suspicient of being Infected.

There’s something of a problem with those conversations also getting bogged down in weird unproductive nonsense where someone points out how they deal with some form of transphobic discrimination like it isn’t something everyone involved isn’t also dealing with too of course, but the real big problem I have with these has nothing to do with all the arguing in the comments it’s the fact that the comments keep ending up attached to overt anti-trans propaganda pieces where someone missed big ol’ dog whistles and misinterpret people’s efforts to point them out. Like, this is how this big long post I have all over my feed tonight starts off:

“can we stop the belief that terfs hate transfems exclusively or like more than they hate cisgender men or transmascs...”

There is of course more to that sentence and another six paragraphs and all, but there are zero reasons I can think of to type the above that aren’t “I would like to obfuscate the motivations of fascists and minimize the hell out of the whole actual freaking extermination effort targeting trans women right now,” so from where I sit, there’s no value in reading any further. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. I’m assuming everyone I see sharing this missed that or they’re doing that weird tumblr thing where you quote the whole real bad take/conversation because you want to share your agreement with like the 10th reblog-nest point but like, you’re still spreading this “trans women are men” dog whistle without so much as calling it out. Gotta be careful about that. Fascists on this site do a way better job of Trojan Horse-ing that sort of crap. Not necessarily saying that’s the case here, but... for real what other reason is there to type something like that?

Anyway, again, even if the whole thing is in good faith, the framing is decidedly framed in this antagonistic transmasc vs. transfem sort of way and like, that is not a fight that is actually happening anywhere. There’s just Nazis trying to kill all of us, let’s focus on that in a productive and broad coalition building sort of way?

#fascist divide and conquer crap #nazis

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yuamusuzuran · 4 months

Text

2023... but told in my hyperfixations

Just a post that allows me to track all of my various hyperfixations that have helped me pass this grueling and busy year

HADES (Supergiant Game)

I played this game for at least 6 months non-stop. I was obsessed with everything about it, from story, gameplay all the way to relationships and dialogue. I was ESPECIALLY whipped for PatroChilles and ThanZag. My major fixation spurs were January and February as well as May. I still play Hades when I need to decompress, I have almost 200h in it and I have 100% achievements which is my first time ever

Captive Prince series by C. S. Pacat

I read this trilogy during February and when I tell you I was smacked in the face by how good it was. From intrigue, plot and political drama all the way to relationships. But ofc I was mostly blown away by the relationship between Damen and Laurent, like, I DID NOT EXPECT to love their relationship so much. I WAS IN SHAMBLES BECAUSE OF THEIR GENTLE LOVE. Couldn't recover for weeks

KINGDOM - Dystopia

One of the things I was really looking forward to. The whole album blew me away and the Japanese aesthetic was top notch. How much my boys have grown, I was in shambles

GENSHIN IMPACT!!!!!!!

What can I say, I ENDED UP LOOKING INTO IT. I didn't start officially playing it yet, but I went through the lore, studied all characters and their relationships and ofc got sucked into shipping side of the fandom (it's not that hard to intrigue me with that)

I was specifically OBSESSED with DainKae (Dainsleif x Kaeya), XiaoAether, HaiKaveh and CynoNari. And as new patches come by and Fointaine was introduced, my fixation periods always come back with new content. And right now, I'm all about Wriollette. Fixation started in July and has been coming and going as the new content was introduced (when Furina's backstory was introduced, I was bawling)

RED, WHITE AND ROYAL BLUE MOVIE!!!!

I was prepared for this movie since last year BUT THE ACTUAL THING BLEW ME AWAY! I was so happy to watch it finally, I LOVED the chemistry and even though I have a couple of grievances with it, I think the whole message was portrayed nicely! I won't tell you how many times I've watched the movie, it's literally my comfort media. The main fixation period was before the release and entire August.

Avatar: The Way of Water

I was very late with my watch BUT BOY WAS I OBSESSED AND HIT LIKE A TRUCK WITH IT. The movie had everything I expected it to have and it really made me feel a lot of things. I was so devastated over Teyam, I had SO MANY theories about other three sequels and honestly, I'm still not over how good that movie is. And now, that I know the third sequel is coming around Christmas of 2025, I know the first part of 2026 will be marked by that movie alone. Major fixation period was end of August and ENTIRE September

KINGDOM - Coup d'Etat

Every time Kingdom has a comeback I go into brainrot, deal with it. This comeback was special because it was the last part of their History of Kingdom series and we got SO MANY information on their lore that also prepared us for Season 2! I cannot tell you how insufferable I'll become when the next series of albums starts. As far as this album goes, though, I had no complaints, another non-skip album and Coup d'Etat was a perfect showcase of their growth in the last 3 years. So yeah, majority of my October and November was occupied by them.

And finally.... HEAVEN OFFICIAL'S BLESSING (TGCF)

This story pounced on me like a tiger from an ambush and honestly, I'm not complaining. I know all spoilers, I'm SO OBSESSED with HuaLian and am currently on the 2nd book. I think I'll be even more obsessed when I live though all the important moments though books and I CAN GUARANTEE my interest will once again peak when I start watching donghua (I'm waiting for season 2 to finish so I can watch both Chinese and English, oh, and Japanese will be watched eventually). And, ofc, I'm planning to buy all eight English volumes!!

#tgcf #kingdom kpop #atwow #rwrb film #genshin impact #captive prince #hades supergiant #hyperfixation

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kissimirrit · 2 years

Note

I’m in love with your killudust fanarts but I’m a bit confused on where that ship stands in your ship list. What do you think about it? How long have you liked it?

One time, I think I must’ve seen you claiming that you started liking it more than killugon cuz you hated how twitter was being a major ass when it came to other types of ships that paired up Killua and Gon with other people.

So I’m curious: if you now like killudust more than killugon, are you gonna start making more killudust art? I’m just wondering about that cuz I thought about it so many times. It’s also okay if you’re not going to either. It’s whatever yk?

(hi! rereading my answer i noticed i come across as crass; so sorry if my tone reads as like i'm mad or upset or angry. talking about getting harassed just makes me feel exhausted).

i like killudust because it's funny and random and it makes me laugh.

ultimately when it comes to ships i like, if it can make me laugh, it shoots up into my top 3 favorites. my otps in any fandoms, the majority of the time, are crackships because i found them funny. my first crackship was gaz x GIR from invader zim when i was 8 or 9 (invader zim was also my first online fandom at around this time btw). i have ALWAYS loved crackships. i have ALWAYS loved silly pairings that made me laugh, whether they had canon basing or not (but them having no canon backing and being very random helped the funny-factor for me)

so as for where killudust stands on my ship list, it genuinely is my OTP for HxH (and in my top 3 for overall ships across all fandoms i am in). i used to REALLY love killugon because of all the silly scenarios one could make with them, because these two characters have such funny interactions!! i started being vocal about killua x gold dust girl in early-mid 2020, so that's a little over two years.

(note: i've talked about killudust on other servers i'm no longer in before these screenshots)

so i've considered killudust my #1 hxh ship for a little over two years, actually.

but unfortunately, romantic killugon has gotten pretty soured for me? i still love platonic/queerplatonic killugon don't get me wrong! but the way the fandom on twitter acts about ships that paired gon and killua with other people (and ESPECIALLY killua with female characters). like, being accused of heinous things and getting a bout of harassment SOLELY for being vocal about a crackship i liked and making silly drawings for it just absolutely severed any love i had for killugon in response. being called a homophobic pedophile (she's??? a card game character??? and it appears like she's within his age range if not a little bit older??? and even then i portray her as a fictional character he "waifus" and not an actual character. like???) and being called a proshipper (this word has been divorced of all meaning it literally means nothing anymore if ppl can just fling it at anyone who ships anything against the status-quo) for a non-problematic crackship just really killed any desire i had to make anymore content for killugon.

unfortunately hxh is no longer my hyperfixation, and hyperfixation is usually a big factor in fandom content i create. but sometimes i'll find a drive to create hxh content again (especially if my friends still into hxh manage to wrangle that inspiration and motivation out of me) and USUALLY i've noticed that motivation comes in the form of killudust. so the handful of times i've dipped my toes back into hxh after my hyperfixation ended was for killudust, so most likely if i were to make hxh content in the future again— it would probably be killudust. i'm a spiteful person by nature, so i'm definately not letting anything STOP me from making things i WANT to make. sometimes it even fuels me to make it even more when it's fresher.

but i hope this answers your questions! i appreciate that you've been paying attention to me, sometimes i just think i scream into a void where no one sees ahaha <3

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the-scandalorian · 3 years

Text

Tempered Glass: Chapter 7

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M (will become explicit) Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: slow burn, canon-typical violence, cursing, pining, Din in suspenders, fluff Summary: Din takes a job with his old crew, and you and the kid wait for him on Arvala-7. Notes: Sorry this took me forever!

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian

After you left the atmosphere of Tatooine and jumped into hyperspace, Din swiveled his chair around to face you in the copilot’s seat.

“I should take a job. Everything we made went to Peli, and I don’t like being low on credits. There’s a crew I used to run with...I can reach out to them...” he hesitated then added, “but you and the kid can’t come with me.”

“What do you mean I can’t come with you?”

He sighed, shoulders dropping. “I mean, I don’t trust them enough for you and the kid to come.”

“If you don’t trust them, wouldn’t it be better to have backup?”

“I just—,” he looked away, “I don’t want them to know either of you exist.”

“If you don’t trust them, should you be taking a job with them?”

“We don’t have a lot of options.”

“I could get work somewhere. We could go somewhere safe enough for a few weeks. There are some places where I have contacts, and non-bounty hunting work is usually less conspicuous.”

“I don’t think we should stay anywhere that long right now.”

“But—”

“I’ll feel better if you and the kid are safe together.”

“I—”

When he bowed his head in a silent appeal, your determination crumbled.

“Ugh, fine.”

He sighed in relief, reaching out to rest his hand on your knee briefly. His touch was reassuring.

“But, just so you know, this is only going to work once, so don’t think that my staying back with the kid is going to be a regular thing.”

He removed his hand and turned back around to face the viewport.

“I am taking your silence as tacit agreement,” you said to the back of his helmet.

He chose to ignore that, fiddling with the controls instead.

***

Now that you’d both admitted you wanted to stay together, abandoning the pretense of strategy and convenience all together, things were a little off between you and Din. Neither of you were used to being vulnerable, so conversations were slightly stunted again. You found yourself being overly polite, and Din was doing the same.

That first night back on the Crest, he offered you his bunk.

“I’m not taking your bed. You need it to take off your helmet.”

Besides the unshakable lingering chill of the hull, sleeping there wasn’t that bad. You usually slept with every sweater you owned on and that kept you warm enough.

“Use it when I’m not. You shouldn't have to sleep on the floor.”

“Sure, thanks,” you agreed, knowing you’d never take him up on that. You didn’t want to be on a different sleep schedule than he and the kid.

You did try to nap with the kid in Din’s bunk the next day because there wasn’t all that much to do in hyperspace. As soon as you lay down, though, you knew it was a mistake. First of all, it was crazy uncomfortable (somehow not better than the literal floor and the close walls made it slightly claustrophobic), and second—and far more importantly—it smelled overwhelmingly like Din. It smelled like his pine-y soap and beskar and blaster residue and leather and whatever else made up his infuriatingly good scent. It conjured images of crackling fires and golden skin and warm embraces and taut muscles.

Shit.

There was no chance you were going to be able to fall sleep when all you could think about was him.

The kid, on the other hand, was snoozing contentedly beside you. When you’d fully given up on napping, you edged your way out the bunk carefully, doing your best not to wake him.

Din was sitting in the hull on a long crate against the wall, cleaning his blaster, the pieces spread out next to him. Usually, when you were in the hull at the same time, you’d find a place across from him. Instead, you purposefully sat next to him, drawing your knees up to your chest and leaning against the wall.

You decided you were going to push through this awkward phase and make things not weird right there, right then. And you were going to do that the best way you knew how.

He tilted his helmet toward you momentarily then refocused on the blaster in his hand.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes,” he said, running a rag along the barrel.

“How does one develop a catchphrase? Does it happen organically or is there an iterative brainstorming process?”

Din paused, sighing dramatically, set his blaster and the rag down next to him, and pushed himself back until he was also leaning against the metal wall. His helmet clunked slightly as he relaxed it back. “This is the way is not a catchphrase. It’s a tenet of the Creed.”

“And ‘I can bring you in warm or I can bring you in cold’ is also a tenet of the Creed?”

He lolled his helmet to the side, looking down at you. “Okay, fine, that one isn’t,” he conceded.

“So you admit it—you have at least one catchphrase that you regularly use on bounties.” You smirked up at him.

Without missing a beat, Din fixed you with that unreadable visor and quipped: “I’ve been told I have a sexy voice. I’m just giving the people what they want.”

Your jaw dropped, a shocked laugh echoing through the hull. You had planned on teasing him and had not expected him to turn it around on you so smoothly.

“Uh... I was sort of hoping we’d stick to our unspoken agreement to not bring up the stupid things I said when I was drunk.” You looked down at your hands, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh, definitely not.”

You looked back up. “Alright, well then in the name of fairness, we’re going to have to get you really drunk the next time the opportunity presents itself, so we can see what embarrassing things you say.”

He paused for a moment, considering, then said, “Does that mean you’ll carry me home?”

You cracked a smile, nodding vigorously. “Of course. That would only be fair.”

A warm laugh rasped through the modulator. You crossed your ankles in front of you, letting your knee rest against the cold beskar on this thigh.

“I feel skeptical of that promise.” He dropped a gloved hand to your knee.

“Okay, okay I can’t promise to carry you home, but I can promise to tie your shoe if needed.”

“My boots don’t have laces.” He lifted a foot off the ground to show you.

You shrugged playfully: “Well, that’s not my fault.”

“This doesn’t sound like a very good deal for me. I tied your shoe and carried you home.”

“To be fair, both were against my will.”

“But necessary.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Okay, okay, I can’t carry you, and I can’t tie your shoe... so I’ll...,” you bit your lip as you fished around for something else to offer, “...hold your hand? And not let anyone tickle you.”

He huffed and rubbed his thumb over your knee: “I’m not ticklish.”

You pursed your lips. “Right, sure, of course not. My mistake.”

He harrumphed. “Can I ask you something now?”

“I’ll allow it,” you intoned seriously.

“Where are you actually from?”

“Naboo. Most of my back story was true—I just left out the one major detail.”

“Your favorite color?” he deadpanned.

You laughed. “Yes, exactly. What about you? Where are you from?”

“Aq Vetina.”

You waited, hoping he’d elaborate.

“When my parents died there, I was rescued by the Mandalorians and raised in the Fighting Corps.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, placing your hand over his and squeezing gently. “That sounds like a tough life for a child.”

“It was all I knew,” he explained, shifting slightly.

“Still, that can’t have been easy. It makes sense that you couldn’t leave the kid.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, solemnly. There was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there moments ago.

“Less serious question,” you replied, changing the subject to something lighter.

“Okay.” He relaxed a little.

“Why don’t you ever use a straw to drink with your helmet on?”

“These are the things you think about?” he laughed. His laugh was usually a quiet, muffled sound through the modulator, but it was getting easier to pick up on it. “There’s a seal on the helmet, otherwise the filters wouldn’t work,” he tapped the release on the side of his head. “So a straw isn’t a possibility, unfortunately.”

“Mmm,” you responded, “that is disappointing.”

He gripped your thigh lightly, turning toward you. “I, uh, heard back about the job... while you were asleep. It’s a go.”

“Ah... great. I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t hear back.”

“I know. It will be fine.”

“Okay... So, any ideas for where the kid and I should stay?”

To your surprise, Din explained that he had a trusted friend on Arvala-7. When you agreed to the plan, he disappeared to the cockpit to set the nav—a two-day trip.

***

That same evening, you discovered a new favorite activity on the Crest. Before bed, the kid was being particularly fussy, so you pulled out your data pad and downloaded the first children’s book you could find. It worked liked a charm.

From then on, it became a daily routine: you’d read to him until his eyelids drooped before his nap and before bedtime. Regardless of his mood, listening to you read seemed to soothe him. You’d pull him into your lap and settle onto your stack of blankets against the wall. He’d watch your face, enraptured, as you relayed story after story to him. His favorite—the story that elicited the most chirps and grabby motions and ear wiggles—centered on a family of frogs. You revisited that one at least once a day, sometimes more if he was grouchy.

You weren’t sure how to feel about his hyperfixation on that particular story given his appetite for frogs.

At this rate, your digital library was going to be largely children’s books. You didn’t mind.

You noticed that Din would find something to do in the hull while you read. The first couple times, he sat and cleaned one of his many weapons or sewed a hole in his flight suit. Very quickly, he stopped bothering with an ostensible task and would just sit and listen.

When you were still 15 hours out from Arvala-7, Din was seated on his usual crate in the hull, the one next to the weapons cabinet, as you finished the final page of a particularly thrilling story about a snail. The kid was snoring softly in your arms, so you clicked off your datapad, and got up to settle him in his hammock for his mid-day nap.

“You’re good with him.” Din was leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“I guess,” you shrugged, snapping the door to Din’s bunk shut and turning back to him. “I just think about what I liked as a kid. I loved when my parents would read to me.”

He nodded, helmet trained on the floor between his boots.

“I’m sorry—” you started, realizing how that must have sounded to Din.

He looked up and cut you off. “Don’t be. It’s nice for him to have some normal kid experiences.”

“You know what he’d really love?”

“What?”

“If you read to him.”

He dipped his helmet slightly in acknowledgement, rolling his shoulders back at the same time like he was uncomfortable agreeing with that.

Several hours later, you pulled Din down next to you in your normal pre-bedtime story time spot. He had the kid in his arms. You switched on your datapad and toggled through the catalog of books you’d downloaded, all of which had colorful covers and silly, whimsical titles, until you found the frog book.

“Here,” you offered, passing it over to him.

You leaned your head back against the wall and closed your eyes, listening to Din’s serious, even voice narrate the heartwarming hijinks of a family of frogs. The kid cooed and babbled along.

To your (and the kid’s) utter delight, Din’s rendition slowly evolved into a full-on dramatic reading, complete with sound effects and slightly different voices for each character, as he leaned into whatever prompted the most enthusiastic responses from the kid. You kept your eyes closed and said nothing, worried that if you drew attention to this new development, he’d get self-conscious and stop. You couldn’t help from smiling a little though.

When the story came to its conclusion, you opened your eyes. Din was scrolling through the library of options, browsing for the next book. “What do you think? Which one next?” You looked at him, but he wasn’t asking you. The kid let out a string of gibberish, pointing with a teeny finger. Din read out the titles of several options, selecting the one that triggered the most animated trill.

As Din began the story, he shifted until his body was flush with yours. The places where his beskar made contact with you were cold, even through the fabric of your clothes, but you didn’t mind.

By the time Din finished the second book, the kid was displaying the telltale signs—drooping ears and unfocused eyes—that bedtime had arrived.

Din handed you the datapad and stood to tuck the kid into bed.

As he shut the door to his bunk, you said, “I think you just put me out of a job.”

He scoffed, but you could tell he was pleased.

***

As you got more comfortable around each other, Din took to walking around without his armor—beside his helmet—on. Most of the time, he’d even leave his gloves off. He wore either a flight suit that zipped up the middle or a black shirt and pants...with suspenders. The first few times, it was jarring to see him like that, without his armor. He looked wrong. It was like seeing a turtle without its shell... but if turtles were sexy.

The first time he emerged from his bunk with the suspenders hanging loosely by his sides, you stopped dead, mouth hanging open. He tilted his helmet sharply at you: “What?”

“You sometimes wear suspenders under your armor?”

“...Yes?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you and the goofy grin that spread across your face.

“What?” he prompted again, shoulders pulling up toward his neck.

“I just really wasn’t expecting that,” you laughed.

“What were you expecting?” The playful note in his voice left you flustered. He took a step closer, much more relaxed now that he was the one doing the teasing. He was getting too good at flipping things on you.

Instead of answering—because you were not about to address the fact that you had absolutely thought about what he wore under his armor—you strode up to him and pulled the suspenders over his shoulders. He stood uncomfortably still, arms hanging awkwardly by his sides.

“What are you doing?” He looked down at his shirt then back up at you.

“I just want to get the full picture.” You looked him up and down.

“Thought about this a lot, have you?” He quirked his helmet down at you suggestively. It was only the second time you’d gotten that particular flavor of head tilt, and you...didn’t hate it. It made your neck feel hot. You disregarded the intense desire to grab him by the suspenders and jerk him toward you.

Instead, you narrowed your eyes at him, enjoying this new bold flirtation. Without looking away from his visor, you hooked a finger through one of the suspenders and pulled it out a couple inches, letting it snap back against him.

“Ow.” He stated it so matter-of-factly that it obviously hadn’t hurt, but for dramatic effect, he rubbed the spot on his chest where it hit him.

“You’ll survive,” you assured him, patting his shoulder and brushing past him to climb the ladder to the cockpit. When you sat down in the pilot’s seat and kicked your feet up to rest on the console, you still had a smile on your face.

***

A few hours later, you were seated in the copilot seat with the child held tightly in your lap as the Razor Crest descended through the atmosphere of Arvala-7. On the way, Din shared how he’d met this friend—he had helped Din when he was originally tracking down the child months ago.

However, when you asked what his friend’s name was, Din said he didn’t know. Honestly, you weren’t even that surprised. Just exasperated.

Din told you the details of when he tracked down the child, including the assassin droid he'd crossed paths with. He explained how he’d teamed up with IG-11, but in the end, he had to destroy the droid to protect the kid. The anger in his voice was raw when he described watching IG-11 point his blaster at the child.

As the dusty, cracked surface of the planet came into view, you asked, “Is that what caused your thing with droids?”

“What thing?”

“Din.”

He was silent for a long moment.

“Droids destroyed my home planet, killed my parents. They’re the reason I was a foundling as a child.”

His words washed over you, and your heart dropped. You leaned forward in your seat to put a hand on his shoulder. He stayed perfectly still, helmet trained on the controls in front of him.

“I’m sorry.”

He nodded stiffly and reached up to squeeze your hand briefly.

“We’re about to land.”

You took that as a cue to drop the subject for now.

***

You and Din, the kid in his arms, approached a small collection of low structures. You swept your eyes across the uniform landscape—all was dry and sienna and flat. The Ugnaught’s homestead was the only sign of habitation in sight. The buildings were brown and domed, and windmills creaked slowly in the warm breeze. Three blurrgs in a large corral watched you balefully.

“Mandalorian!” the Ugnaught greeted, emerging from the door of his low home.

“Ugnaught,” Din replied with a nod.

“I did not think I would see you here again. What business brings you back to Arvala-7?”

“I was hoping that my friends could stay with you for a couple nights—I’ll pay you for the lodging.”

Of course he'd refer to me and a literal infant as his "friends."

You introduced yourself, offering your hand.

The Ugnaught bowed his head slightly as he clasped your hand: “It is nice to make your acquaintance. I am Kuill.”

At least Din knows his name now.

Kuill turned back to Din. “The child remains in your care,” he observed.

“Yes,” said Din, offering no explanation. He set the child down on the ground, and he toddled his way slowly over to Kuill.

Kuill scooped up the baby, and he chirruped happily, reaching toward his whiskery mustache.

“It hasn’t grown much.”

“I think it might be a Strand-Cast.”

You shot Din a skeptical look. He’d never shared this particular theory of his with you.

“I don’t think it was engineered. I’ve worked in the gene farms. This one looks evolved. Too ugly,” mused Kuill.

You raised your eyebrows at the frankness of his statement. He is not ugly.

“Your friends are welcome to stay with me. No payment will be necessary. I have spoken.” Kuill turned and headed back inside without so much as a backward glance.

“I insist,” Din said to his back.

Kuill disappeared into his home.

Din turned to you: “He does that. Just ends a conversation like that.”

“I understand why the two of you get along so well. Men of few words.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

Din nodded, reinforcing your point inadvertently.

You and Din stepped closer to each other at the same time. For the first time, you let the concern you were feeling color your features.

“I’ll be back in three days, if not sooner.”

He was padding his timeline in response to the worry that was etched across your face. You knew Din could defend himself—that wasn’t your fear. It was that, whether he liked to admit it or not, he occasionally let trust blind him. The irony of that wasn’t lost on you, considering how long it had taken for him to trust you. This was the trademark paradox of Din. He was loath to fully let people in, but he had a tendency to take people at face value and assume they would keep their word—because he always kept his word. He had a surprisingly generous worldview for someone with such a violent profession and brutal past.

Din reached down to grab something small that was tucked in his belt—the metal ball from one of the controls in the cockpit that the kid loved to play with. He occasionally pretended to be irritated whenever he wanted to play with it, but you knew he found it endearing.

He handed it to you. “He’ll want that.”

You smiled and nodded, looking at the sphere in your palm. Din raised a hand to your chin and tilted your face back up to his.

Do we... hug? He doesn’t seem like a hugger.

So instead, you offered, “Be careful, okay?”

“I will,” he promised. He stayed there for a moment longer, looking at you and rubbing his thumb along your cheek. Before you could decide if you should also try to hug him, he turned abruptly to walk back to the Crest.

You stayed and watched him as he walked the distance back to the ship and disappeared up the ramp. You stayed and watched as the Razor Crest rumbled to life and took off. You stayed and watched as it ascended through the atmosphere and vanished from view.

***

It was a relief to be off the ship for a few days—even if Arvala-7 wasn’t exactly your ideal planet. It would be a treat to eat real food, instead of shelf-stable ration packs, and to have more than the limited space of the ship to move around in... not to mention an actual bed.

Kuill was a kind and welcoming host. He offered you his spare room, where you placed your things, and you sat down for tea together in his small kitchen.

“How did you come to be in the company of the Mandalorian and the child?”

“I guess he has a soft spot for people who are wanted by the Empire?” you chuckled, and Kuill nodded somberly. “Now, we’re just helping each other out.” You weren’t really sure how else to explain it.

Kuill didn’t press you anymore than that, nodding sagely. Instead, while you sipped your tea with the kid on your lap, he told you about his background—decades of indentured servitude to the Empire before he worked off his debt and bought his freedom—in the solemn, frugal way that was clearly characteristic of the Ugnaught. You understood why Din trusted him: he was forthright, calm, wise.

“What can I help you with while I’m here?” you asked, already anxious to find something to occupy your time.

“You are my guest. You do not need to do any work.”

“I would be happy to,” you insisted. “I would rather be busy. I can help with cleaning or repairs—whatever you need. My formal training was in programming, but I’ve picked up general skills along the way.”

Kuill nodded and said, “Come.”

He turned and walked out of his house. You set down your tea on the table and followed him, the child tucked in the crook of your elbow, happily clutching the silver ball. Kuill stopped in front of the workstation that was a short distance from his doorway. Tools and wiring and various speeder parts were arranged on and around a long workbench and a collection of smaller tables and shelves. The circular backdrop of the workbench was the repurposed window of a TIE fighter.

An assassin droid was laid across the tabletop.

“Is this the droid that Mando shot?”

“I believe so, yes. It was left behind, in the Mandalorian’s wake of destruction. I found it lying where it fell—devoid of all life. I recovered the flotsam and staked it as my own in accordance with the Charter of the New Republic. Little remains of its neural harness. Reconstruction will be quite difficult.”

“What are your plans for it?”

“To convert it from an assassin droid to something more useful: a protocol and nurse droid.”

You nodded. “Handy.”

“I will have to reconstruct the neural harness, and then it will have to relearn every function from scratch. It will be a blank slate on which to program something nurturing instead of destructive. You may help me restore him if you would like.”

“Of course.”

The two of you got to work.

***

That night, when you lay down to sleep, you tossed and turned. The child was snuggled in a makeshift crib next to your bed. You found yourself sitting up periodically to check on him. Every time you checked on him, he was sleeping soundly.

Eventually, you slipped out of your bed, tiptoed quietly through the house, and walked out into the cold, clear night. You walked aimlessly for a while, circling the corral of blurrgs. They were asleep, eyes shut tight, standing in a close clump. Then you turned to head out across the open plain and watch the stars through the thin veil of clouds that dusted the sky.

You were starting to regret that you hadn’t pushed harder to go with Din. He was with a whole team of people who sounded untrustworthy at best, malicious at worst. You couldn’t help but think of all the things you should have said to him before he left. You hadn’t even hugged him.

It was freaking you out a little just how attached you were to a man who you’d known for a couple months.

You walked until the chill of the night air became too much, then turned back.

In the morning, you sat at Kuill’s kitchen table again, feeding the child. Kuill moved around the small food prep area, pulling together breakfast and making tea.

You followed Kuill as he went about his daily jobs, caring for the blurrgs, doing routine maintenance, and continuing the work on IG-11.

You were sweating in the sun, hands covered in grease, concentrating on refitting a damaged arm joint when Kuill’s calm voice brought you out of your train of thought.

“It is curious that the Mandalorian elected to keep the child.”

You looked up at him. “He secretly has a soft heart,” you said, smiling to yourself.

“Yes, that much is clear, but he is also set in his beliefs, and this choice went against the Guild Code. What is curious is that such a small being could inspire a change of heart in such a rigid person.”

You considered his words.

“I... think he was just waiting to find a greater purpose than hunting, to find someone to love, you know? It comes naturally to him, but I don’t think he’d ever had the chance.”

Kuill hummed thoughtfully. “Is that not what we are all doing—looking for a greater purpose?”

“I guess?” You shrugged.

“And have you?”

“Have I what?” you asked, wiping a bead of sweat off your forehead.

“Have you found the greater purpose you were looking for?”

You considered for a moment then said, “Well... I found a purpose a long time ago, when I joined the Alliance, and since then, I’ve been too busy trying to escape the wrath of the Empire to really think about what’s next in the larger sense... Staying alive has been the main priority.”

Kuill hummed again, glancing over at the kid. “You weren’t looking for something greater, but it appears to have found you.”

“I...,” you started. You watched the child, who was siting on the hard ground admiring the silver ball clutched in his hand. “I’m not sure.”

“I have spoken,” said Kuill, bowing his head, and he lapsed back into silence.

You watched the kid as he dropped the ball and staggered to his feet, squealing excitedly as he chased a lizard that darted past him. You wondered where Din was at this exact moment, and your heart squeezed in a familiar way.

***

The second night was much like the first. You walked outside for some time, thinking of all the awful things that could be happening to Din.

What if they turn on him?

What if another hunter finds him?

What if he doesn’t come back?

It wasn't a crazy thought. You were used to people not coming back.

Until that moment, you hadn't considered that you'd be the sole guardian of the kid if Din didn't return. For a split second, you felt the crushing weight of responsibility for the life and safety and happiness of the tiny green child that Din must feel at all times.

Eventually you fell into a fitful sleep, waking early, and the day dawned bright and cold. As the sun climbed, the chill rapidly dissipated, making way for a dry heat that seemed to be the only weather condition on Arvala-7.

You spent the morning helping Kuill continue the repairs on IG-11. You did your best to not count the hours that slipped by. He’d said it could take three days, so there was no reason to be concerned yet.

But... did he mean he would return ON the third day? Or the fourth day?

And for that matter... did the day he left count as day one? Or was yesterday day one?

Did he mean seventy-two hours from the time he left? Or that he’d be back at the start of the third day?

How did I not clarify this before he left??

That evening, you were in deep in discussion about artificial intelligence when Kuill said, “I believe your Mandalorian has returned to you.” He pointed behind you, and you whipped around to see the Crest touching down in a cloud of dust in the distance.

“Will you—?” you asked, turning back to Kuill.

“I will watch the child.” He seemed vaguely amused by your enthusiasm.

You sprang to your feet and walked as fast as you could toward the Crest. You briefly considered running, but that felt dramatic. He’d only been gone a couple days.

Why did he land so fucking far away?

You’d made it about half the distance when the ramp of the Crest finally began to lower with a hiss. Your resolve snapped, and you started to jog. Din descended the ramp, and you were so relieved to see him that you weren’t even embarrassed anymore that you were literally running to him.

Din cocked his head—a curious head tilt—when he saw you sprinting at him across the dusty ground. He paused at the bottom of the ramp.

“Are you—?” he started to say as you crashed into his chest and wrapped your arms around him. He barely budged upon impact.

His shoulders relaxed immediately, and he pulled you tight against him.

Well, if he wasn’t a hugger before, he is now.

“I’m okay,” he reassured you.

“Good,” you said into the fabric bunched around his neck.

After a moment, you released him and stepped back, the steadying weight of his hands remaining on your arms. He looked like he was in one piece, but the slight heaviness in his shoulders told you that the job had taken a toll on him.

“I, uh, missed you too,” he said, a little awkwardly.

You smiled at him and took his gloved hand in yours to walk back towards Kuill’s home. You felt slightly giddy that you were casually holding the Mandalorian’s hand. He seemed taken by it too, his helmet tilted down to where your fingers were intertwined.

“The kid?” he asked, looking up to your face.

“He’s good. Misses you, I think. Ate several frogs. And one lizard. The usual. He is disgusting,” you laughed.

Din made a sound that you would almost swear was a snort. “Yeah, he is,” he agreed fondly.

Kuill was waiting outside his home, the child in his arms. When you and Din were close, Kuill set him down, and the baby tottered over to wrap his tiny arms around Din’s calf.

You watched as Din bent stiffly, slowly to pick up the kid.

“You’re hurt,” you realized.

“I'm fine,” he said.

You felt sure that wasn’t true, but you let it be for the moment.

“Thank you,” Din addressed Kuill. He reached into the pouch of his belt for credits.

“I will not accept payment,” Kuill insisted, shaking his head. “In fact, your friend here helped me make great progress on my current project.” Kuill raised his eyebrows at you.

“Very well,” Din acquiesced.

You gathered your things and said your thank yous and goodbyes, returning to the Crest, which—with a jolt—you realized was already starting to feel like home.

***

Chapter 8

***

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#my writing #tempered glass #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fanfic #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #din djarin x f!reader #mature #mando x you #mando x female reader #mando x f!reader

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spockandawe · 3 years

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Well, this is interesting! So, in that post yesterday, there was one line that really baffled me, a thing about people brushing off a character as an asshole “because he shows literally zero growth.” I kind of set that aside because it was such a weird non-sequitur, and guessed that it was just someone’s sentences not quite keeping up with their train of thought, which has happened to me many times. Apparently I was wrong! I already spent long enough on that one post, I’m tired of talking about that, but this is new and interesting.

Okay. I kind of wanted to see if I could talk about this purely in terms of abstracts and not characters, but I don’t think it’ll work. It would be frustrating to write and confusing to read. It’s about Jiang Cheng. Right up front: This isn’t about whether or not he’s an abuser. Frankly, I don’t think it’s relevant. This also isn’t about telling people they should like him. I don't care whether anyone else likes him or not. But I do like him, and I am always fascinated by dissecting the reasons that people disagree with me. And the process of Telling Stories is my oldest hyperfixation I remember, which will become relevant in a minute.

I thought I had a good grasp on this one, you know? Jiang Cheng makes it pretty obvious why people would dislike Jiang Cheng. But then the posts I keep stumbling over were making weird points, culminating in that “literally zero growth” line.

So! What happened is that someone wrote up a post about how Jiang Cheng’s character arc isn’t an arc, it’s stagnation. It’s a pretty interesting read, and I broadly agree with the larger point! The points where I would quibble are like... the idea that it’s absolute stagnation, as opposed to very subtle shifts that still make a material difference. But still, cool! The post was also offered up as a reason why OP was uninterested in writing any more Jiang Cheng meta, which I totally get. I’m not tired of him yet, but I definitely understand why someone who isn’t a fan of his would get tired about writing about a character with a very static arc. Okay!

Now, internet forensics are hard. I desperately wish I had more information about this evolution, because I find this stuff fascinating, but I have no good way to find things said in untagged posts, reblogs, or private/external venues. But as far as I can tell, that “literally zero growth” wasn’t just a slip of the tongue, it’s become fashionable for people to say that Jiang Cheng is an abusive asshole (that it’s fucked up to like) because he doesn’t have a character arc.

Asshole? Yes. Abusive? This post still isn’t about that. This is about it being fucked up to like this character because he did bad things and had a static character arc.

At first, that point of view was still deeply confusing to me. But I think I figured out the idea at the core of it, and now I’m only baffled. I’m not super interested in confirming this directly, because the people making the most noise about this have not inspired confidence in their ability to hold a civil conversation and I’m a socially anxious binch, but I think the idea is: ‘This character did Bad Things, and then did not improve himself.’

Which is alarmingly adjacent to that old favorite standard of ‘This piece of fiction is glorifying Bad Thing.’ I haven’t seen anyone accusing mxtx of something something jiang cheng, only the people who read/watched/heard the story and became invested in the Jiang Cheng character, but things kind of add up, you know?

Like I said, I don’t want to arbitrate anyone’s right to like/dislike Jiang Cheng. That’s such a fucking waste of time. But this is fascinating to me, because it’s like..... so obviously new and sudden, with such a clear originating point. I can’t speak to the Chinese fans, obviously, but exiledrebels started translating in... what, 2017? And only now, in 2021, do people start putting forth Jiang Cheng’s flat character arc as a “reason” that he’s bad? I’m not going to argue if he pings you in the abuse place, I’m not a dick. I’m not going to argue if you just dislike his vibes. I’m just over here on my blog and in the tag enjoying myself, feel free to detour around me. But oh my god, it’s so silly to try to tell other people that they shouldn’t like him because he has a static character arc.

I want to talk about stories. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to say, because it’s impossible to make broad, sweeping statements, because there are stories about change, there are stories about lack of change, there are all kinds of media that can be used to tell stories, and standards for how stories are told and what they emphasize vary across cultures and over time. But I think that what I can say is that telling a story requires... compromise. It requires streamlining. Trying to capture all the detail of life would slow down most stories to an unbearable degree. Consider organically telling someone ‘I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich’ versus the computer science exercise of having students describe, step by step, how to make one (spread peanut butter? but you never said you opened the lid)

Hell, I’ve got an example in mdzs itself. The largely-faceless masses of the common people. If someone asks you to think about it critically like, yes, obviously these are people, living their own lives, with their own desires, sometimes suffering and dying in the wake of the novel plot. But does the story give weight to those deaths? Or does it just gloss by? Yes, it references their suffering occasionally, but it is not the focus, and it would slow the story unbearably to give equal weight to each dead person mentioned.

Does Wei Wuxian’s massacre get given the same slow, careful consideration as Su She’s, or Jin Guangyao’s? No, because taking the time to weigh our protagonist with ‘well, this one was a mother, and her youngest son had just started walking, but now he’s going to grow up without remembering her face. that one only became an adult a few months ago, he still hasn’t been on many night-hunts yet, but he finds it so rewarding to protect the common people. oh, and this one had just gotten engaged, but don’t worry, his fiancee won’t mourn him, because she died here as well.’ And continuing on that way to some large number under 3000? No! Unless your goal is to make the reader feel bad for cheering for a morally grey hero, that would be a bad authorial decision! The book doesn’t ignore the issue, it comes up, Wei Wuxian gets called out about all the deaths he’s responsible for, but that’s not the same as them being given equal emotional weight to one (1) secondary character, and I don’t love this new thing where people are pretending that’s equivalent.

When Wei Wuxian brutally kills every person at the Wen supervisory office, are you like ‘holy shit... so many grieving families D:’ or are you somewhere between vindicated satisfaction and an ‘ooh, yikes’ wince? Odds are good you’re somewhere in the satisfaction/wince camp, because that’s what the story sets you up to feel, because the story has to emphasize its priorities (priorities vary, but ‘plot’ and ‘protagonist’ are common ones, especially for a casual novel read like this)

Now, characters. If you want to write a story with a sweeping, epic scale, or if you want to tightly constrain the number of people your story is about, I guess it’s possible to give everyone involved a meaningful character arc. Now.... is it always necessary? Is it always possible? Does it always make sense? No, of course not. If you want to do that, you have to devote real estate to it, and depending on the story you want to tell, it could very possibly be a distraction from your main point, like the idea of mxtx tenderly eulogizing every single character who dies even incidentally. Lan Qiren doesn’t get a loving examination of his feelings re: his nephews and wei wuxian and political turnover in the cultivation world because it’s not relevant, and also, because his position is pretty static until right near the end of the story. Lan Xichen is arguably one of the most static characters within the book, he seems like the same nice young between Gusu and the present, right up until... just before the end of the story.

You may see where I’m heading with this.

Like, just imagine trying to demand that every important character needs to go through a major life change before the end of your book or else it didn’t count. This just in, Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg go through multiple novels without experiencing radical shifts in who they are, stop liking them immediately. I do get that the idea is that Jiang Cheng was a ~bad person~ who didn’t change, but asdgfsd I thought we were over the handwringing over people being allowed to like ““bad”” fictional characters. The man isn’t even a canonical serial killer, he’s not my most problematic fave even within this novel.

And here is where it’s a little more relevant that I would quibble with that original post about Jiang Cheng’s arc. He’s consistently a mean girl, but he goes from stressed, sharp-edged teenager, to grief-stricken, almost-destroyed teen, to grim, cold young adult (and then detours into grim, cold, and grief-stricken until grief dulls with time). He does become an attentive uncle tho. He..... doesn’t experience a radical change in his sense of self, which... it’s...... not all that strange for an adult. And bam, then he DOES experience a radical change, but the needs of the plot dictate that it’s right near the end. And he’s not the focus of the story, baby, wangxian is. He has the last few lines of the story, which nicely communicate his changes to me, but also asdfafas we’re out of story. He was never the main character, it’s not surprising we don’t linger! The extras aren’t beholden to the needs of plot, but they’re also about whatever mxtx wanted to write, and I guess she didn’t feel like writing about Jiang Cheng ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But also. Taking a step backward. Stable characters can fill a perfectly logical place in a story. Like, look at Leia Organa. I’m not saying she has no arc, but I am saying that she’s a solid point of reference as Luke is becoming a jedi and Han is adjusting his perspective. I wouldn’t call her stagnant, the vibes are wrong, but she also isn’t miserable in her sadness swamp, the way Jiang Cheng is.

Or, hell, look at tgcf. The stagnant, frozen nature of the big bad is a central feature of the story. The bwx of now is the bwx of 800 years ago is the bwx of 1500+ years ago. This is not the place for a meta on how that was bad for those around him and for him himself, but I have Thoughts about how being defeated at the end is both a thing that hurts him and relieves him. Mei Nianqing is a sympathetic character who’s also pretty darn static. Does Ling Wen have a character arc, or do we just learn more about who she already is and what her priorities always were? I’m going to cut myself off here, but a character’s delta between the beginning of a story and the end of a story is a reasonable way to judge how interesting writing character meta is, and is a very silly metric to judge their worth, and even if I guessed at what the basic logic is, for this character, I am still baffled that it’s being put forth as a real talking point.

(also, has it jumped ship to any other characters yet? have people started applying it in other fandoms as well? please let me know if this is the case, I am wildly curious)

(no, but really, if anyone is arguing that bwx is gross specifically because he had centuries to self-reflect and didn’t fix himself, i am desperate to know)

And finally. The thing I thought was most self-evident. Did I post about this sometime recently? If a non-central character experiences a life-altering paradigm shift right near the end of the story (without it being lingered over, because non-central character), oh my god. As a fic writer? IT’S FREE REAL ESTATE. This is the most fertile possible ground. If I want to write post-canon canon-compliant material, adsgasfasd that’s where I’m going to be looking. Okay, yeah, the main couple is happy, that’s good. Who isn’t happy, and what can I do about that? Happy families are all alike, while every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way, etc.

It’s not everyone’s favorite playground, but come on, these are not uncommon feelings. And frankly, it’s starting to feel a little disingenuous when people act like fan authors pick out the most blameless angel from the cast and lavish good things upon them. I’m not the only one who goes looking for a good dumpster fire and says I Live Here Now. If I write post-canon tgcf fic, it’s very likely to focus on beef and/or leaf. I have written more than one au focusing on tianlang-jun.

And, hilariously. If the problem with Jiang Cheng. Is that he is a toxic man fictional character who failed to grow on his own, and is either unsafe or unhealthy to be around. If the problem is that he did not experience a character arc. If these people would be totally fine with other people liking him, if he improved himself as a person. And then, if authors want to put in the (free! time-consuming!) work of writing that character development themselves. You would think that they would be lauded for putting the character through healthier sorts of personal growth than he experienced in canon. Instead, I am still here writing this because first, I was bothered by these authors being named as “freaks” who are obsessed with their ‘uwu precious tsundere baby’ with a “love language of violence,” and then I was graciously informed that people hate Jiang Cheng because he experiences no character growth.

#jiang cheng #mdzs #the untamed #disk horse #long post/#abuse/#only tangentially #but better safe than sorry i hope

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alonfic · 3 years

Text

second nature

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x reader genre: college + bff to lovers au | fluff, pining pining pining wc: 4,767 description: love is complicated; it tends to bloom in desire, in impulse. sometimes you just need to stop the overthinking and just do. in other words, you’re hopelessly in love with your best friend and decide to take matters into your own hands. author’s note: completely self-indulgent. i just wanted a scene where mc jumps into kuroo’s arms and kisses him after a win. sue me.

People do stupid things when they’re in love. You don’t know who said it, if this is some universal conclusion, or maybe Hercules’s Megara is a love genius who you should take notes from. Then again, she did twice, and was saved by her destined lover the second time around. You aren’t all that sure this is a fate prescribed to you by the stars nor is it one that you want for yourself, but it makes you wonder if your love life would be easier if it could have that Disney-esque theatrics just for a happy ending.

Then again, you don’t think Disney has any love stories about best friends turning into lovers, just strangers to lovers. But how do you fall in love with someone you haven’t spent years together cultivating memories with? How do you not look back and smile at the stories of chasing fireflies in the summertime or running from the ocean’s kiss because it’s just a tad too cold even in the late spring? Could it be possible to imagine a love built out of the blue?

Perhaps that part of unexpectedness could be the suspect. Being around him is comfortable; easy as breathing. He’s always been there, always a faint image in the back of your mind as you walk down memory lane, and still there as you walk down this strange path of adulthood. He’s never one to push too hard or let you fall without reaching a hand out to hold you steady.

In truth, you don’t think about loving your best friend. At least you try not to at first. It isn’t something you’re supposed to do or anything that could proceed painlessly, and you’re no masochist. Maybe you are. Wouldn’t you have extracted yourself from the situation sooner if you weren’t?

Then again, you didn’t choose to love him one morning, it just happened.

You consider ignoring Kuroo when it happens. Or if there’s any chance of going back.

It isn’t anything against him because you obviously wouldn’t feel the way that you do if you considered him a shitty person. But that’s the problem. Well, not the problem, more like the reason. The heart of your pining has always been a consistent figure. A loving one that has always had your back even when you both were kids; him the notoriously shy boy who clung to his father’s leg when you and your mother first stopped by, and you the painfully hard-headed one who lacked control when you came bounding up to him with the intent of friendship.

Funny how things seem to take on a reverse effect as he approaches you in the same confidence. His smile unaltered by the slight changes in you, how you tense up ever-so-slightly and squeak affirmations when he mentions going out later that night as a treat for surviving midterms. It shouldn’t mean anything more, really, these are normal interactions for you both. The small celebrations are your favorite things to do, so you hope it doesn’t feel weird when you say yes and he looks at you like he’s over the moon kind of happy.

You don’t say a word when his hand is on the small of your back in the slightly crowded ramen shop. It’s been a longtime favorite of your and his, and surviving the quarter is a celebration in and of itself. Everything is normal. These things, like guiding you to a table, are normal. Your hyperfixations on them are hardly normal though.

Was he always this touchy? Of course, you ponder this. It’s your brain wondering and hoping to figure out what the motivations of these actions are even if he’s done them before. He’s always been keen on physical touch with you. Ever the one to wrap an arm around your shoulders while you two walk around shopping centers or the park to keep potential intruders away and to keep you from getting swept up in the crowds. Sometimes holding your hand when things get tense and he wants you to know he’s there. They’re normal for him by all accounts, and there hasn’t been a time where any of that has felt out of place, at least until now. And it isn’t because of him, it’s you.

If you had an allowance to dream and believe in your idealistic side, this would be a new beginning and his way of easing you into intimate gestures. You don’t though. Your realistic side won’t let you. He just doesn’t make it very easy on you as he sits in front of you under very grainy incandescent lighting—the very non-ideal kind to consider one’s love for somebody—and still manages to get you feel the same things you had when you awoke to him cooking breakfast in your kitchen after a late night study session. The very stupid morning that brought you to this conclusion.

When he says your name, you realize the server is there. You’re naturally a little embarrassed because you haven’t even had a chance to glance at the menu, still a little more spaced out than usual, though it shouldn’t be that big of a problem. You already know what you want, and so does Kuroo.

He jumps in and asks if you want your usual choice, to which you simply nod so he can tell the server who leaves just as quickly as they had come. Kuroo looks like he wants to say something, probably ask about what’s going on with you, but instead something else catches his eye.

He leans over the table and his fingertips find some stray locks of yours dangerously trying to kiss the corner of your lip. His fingertips graze your cheek rather slowly. Painfully slow, even. It doesn’t help the sweat on your palms or the pounding of your chest. Hell, your heart feels like it might fall out if he continues going at such a snail’s pace, but eventually he gets the strands behind your ear.

He smiles at you again, and this time you know it’s all over.

There is no going back.

“You’ve been ignoring me.”

You almost deny it altogether, almost. But this is Kuroo. You know better than to try and lie to the boy you’ve known since middle school, the same boy who knows when something’s wrong before you even have a chance to register that something’s wrong. It sometimes makes you want to curse at him and wish this whole thing would just come to a halt instead of continuing on this weird precipice of change. But you stop yourself and step aside so he can enter your apartment, making his way through the long hallway and turning right to take a perch on the barstool at your kitchen isle.

He’s right anyway. It’s been days since you realized your feelings and even more since you two went out to get ramen together. But you’d be damned to admit the truth.

“Been busy.” You settle on this because it’s a safe answer, at least relatively so, though he hardly looks even the slightest bit convinced. The fact that you lean on the opposite side of the granite countertop is enough to solidify his doubt, but you decide to play the fool anyway. “What?”

“Are you alright? Have I done something to upset you?” Kuroo asks this genuinely, and you can tell most definitively by the slight crease in his brow and the small line his lips have become. It isn’t a frown by any means, it’s his pensive expression. He must be trying to think back on anything he’s either said or done in the past couple of weeks, but you know he wouldn’t be able to guess it.

Not that “it” is all that major. How do you even describe the sensation of falling in love with your best friend? How do you even dare face them after you’ve done it? And where do you even go from there when it’s happened? These are the things you’ve mulled over; they’re also the things that have stopped you from immediately treating your friendship with Kuroo like business as usual. You don’t think there’s any going back once you say something. No matter the times you’ve imagined what could happen or what it would be like to cross that bridge, a bit of reality grounds you from all impulsive acts.

Of course, you would love to just kiss him and run your hands through his beautifully soft sable hair. You wouldn’t hesitate to finally tell him your feelings if you didn’t think there was anything to lose or if you weren’t in the right state of mind, at least there’s the cushion of not caring and simple selfishness in all of that. It takes a lot to shake it all out of your head, at least to just try to, as he watches you in that unnervingly analytical way.

“Are you sure I haven’t done anything?” You can tell he’s trying to probe now, perhaps hoping for an opening to atone for any misgiving he might’ve done without realizing. His voice is soft, comforting. “If I did, I really am sorry.”

You shake your head again, this time for him and his question. You’re starting to feel a little bad for keeping this from him. “You haven’t done anything, I promise. I’ve just been preoccupied with some things. It’s getting better, so really, no need to worry.”

You hope the half-truths are enough to keep his interrogative questions and inquisitorial stare at bay. At least enough to change the subject, he’s the one who called about coming here, after all.

“If you’re sure?” He tries once more, just to give you an out. It isn’t like you to keep anything from him, and he knows this, but you can’t help but want to keep this one thing under lock-and-key. At least for now, or forever.

You nod. “What’s up anyway?”

“Well, I’ve been missing my best friend like crazy since someone’s been ghosting me for the past two weeks.”

The emphasis on ‘someone’ makes you snort, just a little and only for a moment because he shoots you a playful glare. You hold your hands up in surrender in hopes of spurring the conversation forward. Just because you wanted to avoid him to keep the truth under wraps doesn’t mean you haven’t missed the cheeky bastard.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, with a faint smile. “Has it been that hard without me?”

“The hardest! Kenma’s sick of me, you know. Him, I’m used to wanting to keep me away. But you? That’s a different playing field.” It’s all in a playful jest, of course, and whatever the case may be for you, you know that Kuroo doesn’t mind. He knows it would be for a good reason, even if you don’t think this is all that good of a reason to try and push him away. It’s a hard thing to do when it’s clear that he has no intentions of being set aside, and how can you, given the history here?

“Is there anything I can do to make it up to you, o’dramatic one?” Of course, you’ll play it off, just to see the toothy grin on his lips, and watch the light dance in the hickory of his eyes as he considers his next quip. You wonder if he’ll have you do something stupid just to make up for the sudden separation, although you’re grateful that he’s a more benevolent schemer where you’re concerned. You expect him to charge you a free coffee or something.

“Come to my game on Saturday, please,” Kuroo coughs the last word, as if it might be painful for him to say, or maybe he’s trying to play off sounding forceful, which has never been his forte.

You can’t help but smile albeit confused at the sudden news when it feels like it’s been ages since his last high school game. “A game? With who?”

“It’s just a reunion game against Karasuno, since it’s a rare occasion where we all happen to be free at the same time, and you know us. We’re always hankering for another Battle at the Garbage Dump.”

Before you can say anything, he adds, “If you love me, you’ll come!”

You probably miss the way he looks at you a little more longingly than he once did, as if there’s something he means in these cheeky words. They should mean nothing more than provocations, a mild itch of guilt tripping, but only in good nature. It couldn’t possibly mean anything in the way that you’re hoping. No, not at all.

You know he only means it all in a lighthearted way, but you can’t deny the way your heart seems to rumble with a very distinct sound of early springtime thunder and you feel the back of your throat go dry. Of course, you can’t deny this truth, not even when it’s disguised like this. And anyway, who would you be if you missed out on one of his games?

Of course, you’ll go.

When Kozume calls you over, you already know it’s a mistake to oblige.

The moment you get there, he’s playing a game though he pays a little more attention to you when he sees how much you tense up at the sound of Kuroo’s name. It’s enough for the conversation to completely focus on the former Nekoma captain, and you’re almost certain you want to go home already. If anything, you might be able to cite that you had some homework you need to sort out before the big game.

“You shouldn’t keep lying to yourself. Plus, I know you finished all your homework so you wouldn’t be distracted for the game,” Kozume points out, shooting you a brief pointed look. “You’ve been avoiding me too, you know.”

And this is why: visiting Kozume means speculations, and speculations means hopes, and those mean disappointments because reality is just that cruel. You tell him so in your apology, even when he pointedly ignores the question and instead asks you one.

“When do you think you’ll tell him?”

You look at him incredulously. “Why would I do that?”

The sheer idea is preposterous; confessing to Kuroo might invite trouble for the two of you and the state of your friendship. Sure, you tried ignoring him and seeing if that could help, but that was a bust. Telling him would probably be even worse. Probably the worst thing you could do in this situation. Is it even possible to be okay after confessing to your best friend?

“You’re both idiots who deserve to be together. Why else would I ask?”

He isn’t even looking at you as he says any of this, instead focusing his attention on the characters in his game. His own little fantasy. A part of you is envious of the escapism, wishing for a bit of that for yourself at the moment. At least you can forge a love story from camaraderie there, and in a game world like that, it’s acceptable. Loving your best friend in the modern reality? Not so much.

You’re a little confused at Kozume’s wording. What was he trying to say? Kuroo liked you back? The thought makes you shake your head.

“Easier for you to say,” you roll your eyes at him, certain he hasn’t seen it, but he clicks his tongue at you anyway.

“If you did something, or let yourself do something, life would be so much easier for the both of you.”

“You say this with the assumption that he feels something too,” you point out, still in disbelief. After all, why would Kuroo love you back as more than a friend?

“Why do you even love him anyway?”

You can’t help but reply so nonchalantly when it’s the first thing that comes to mind. “Why not?”

There are many answers to that question, probably more than you care to admit, let alone to Kozume. Even without meeting his eyes or saying a word about any of it, he seems to know already. It’s unnerving. Have you always been this easy to read? Does Kuroo know too?

“Why don’t you just tell him?”

“It’d make things too complicated.”

In other words: it’s easier to tell the truth when you’re not speaking to Kuroo about the whole thing. Hell, it’s easier to address it when it isn’t directly to him. It happened, and obviously there’s no way to strip the power from it now.

“Is that what’s really stopping you?”

You take a moment to consider this, and maybe the large part is the fear of consequence, if there will be one, what it will be, that sort of thing.

“Yeah…”

“Then stop thinking and just do something about it. I’ve never known you to take things lying down. Talk to him after the game or something.”

You don’t say anything, but you consider it.

The day of the game is supposed to be simple. It isn’t like it’s supposed to bloom into anything, and yet you find yourself thrumming with excitement when Kuroo easily finds you in the crowd before he’s set to enter the gym.

You don’t care to admit how much you enjoy this or the sight of seeing him in that vibrant shade of red. The same way you’ve seen him in countless games. It stirs something in your chest as you’re reminded of those days, like this revelation of your feelings might have bloomed sooner than you realized.

“Come find me after the game,” Kuroo tells you with that beautifully toothy grin of his, and you find that you can hardly breathe. “I have something to tell you when I win.”

When did he get so damn good looking? You want to wonder, though that would only be one of many ponderings. You don’t know what his words mean, or why the implication makes your heart react the way it does, but you hope against your own ideals just to remain in reality. At least you try to.

It’s hard once the game begins.

Watching him play feels like falling in love again.

You don’t know what it is in the way Kuroo carries himself or how he seems to dance across the court with a hitch in any of his movements, but it’s addictive to watch. How easily he remains himself even on the court. The very cheeky grin flashes at his opponents, particularly Tsukishima, who looks more and more fired up as they contain their rally. They don’t look much different than when they first played against one another in high school, though they all seem to carry a newfound sense of wisdom in this game they’ve been destined to play time and time again.

Each rally feels like it goes on for longer than the last, as if everything will be gone in a single drop, and perhaps it’s true to say that this mirrors that of love. How you may try as you might to keep the secret of loving away from reality, but it all comes crashing down eventually. It feels that way when you see the final round reach a neck and neck standstill. Neither side wants the ball to drop, to allot victory to their opponent, of course.

It’s Kuroo’s determination that stands out to you. The way he seems to cheer his team on even without words as he tries his best to keep the orange, green, and white ball in play. He’s never been one to give up no matter the circumstances. He’s always found a way to move things in his favor, and he’s never once wavered, even in the beginning of his time with volleyball, he’s always tried, even with losses under his belt.

It’s strangely beautiful to bear witness to this play once more. You don’t know what it is when he looks back at you before his notoriously accurate block with a small, yet triumphant smile, like he knows this’ll win the game, or even so, bring them closer to it, but it rouses something even stranger in your chest as you cheer alongside everyone else in celebration of the first point of two needed to finally win the game. This is by no means a big game like the Inter-high or anything, but it feels that way. Maybe that’s why everything seems to stand out to you. It feels like something big might happen.

Simple as this game might be, it feels like everything when they reach the end of the rally.

They win, and you rise from your seat without a second thought.

You don’t think about what you’re doing.

Your limbs seem to move on their own accord as the rest of the team does a final bow to the audience. You don’t bother stopping to wonder if Kuroo’s searching the crowd for you as you make your way down the stairs, or what the little frown on his face means when his gaze lingers on the spot right behind the banner as soon as you reach the hallway across from the court. Your spot.

No, you don’t stop to think about it.

You don’t even stop moving as you call his name or as you see the light come back to his beautiful hickory eyes. You don’t stop to consider what that might mean either.

Instead you run to him at full speed without bumping into anyone, truly a miracle in and of itself, and instead of stopping right before him with your feet planted firmly on the ground like any other person, you choose to jump. You don’t know why. You don’t think about why either. You just believe that he won’t drop you because he’s never given you a reason to believe otherwise. In fact, you absolutely trust him to catch you now more than ever, and to no one’s surprise, he does.

There are so many things you want to do—reasonable things that any normal best friend supporting their best friend would do. You want to say congratulations. You want to just hug him and jump down because you want to believe that this will be like any other hug you’ve shared with this man you’ve known for years. And maybe it could’ve been that simple if you had just stopped to consider what your actions would mean to him, you, and everyone else. But you don’t bother with the frivolities, you don’t want to yet.

Because when you really look at Kuroo, you catch sight of something beautiful. A sight all too familiar to you and the years of memories you’ve shared together. It’s him in his most purest form; little drops of sweat falling at the sides of his face, an elated grin in all its toothy glory, and the little crinkles at the corners of his eyes becoming more and more prominent. And yet, there’s something a little too new in the way that he looks back at you, the way his gaze lingers on your lips and only snaps back up to your eyes when you say his name.

Your grip around his shoulders tightens and his lips fall a little closer together like he might say something, but you don’t give him a chance. It’s hard when you find yourself on a roll of impulses, like you’re untouchable from consequence.

Maybe you’ve watched too many romance movies, or maybe read too many stories where the best friends finally get together after years of pining and being called idiots by everyone around them. You know it’s all too silly, and you and Kuroo have spent evenings mocking the theatrics of boombox accompanied confessions and singing over the loudspeakers with the marching band as the main male lead’s instrumental track. They’re endearing in the moment, but so painfully unreal, you almost wish this world was entirely fantasy for just a taste of what could be with Kuroo. That’s the true villain, maybe. You can’t stop yourself now.

Everything everyone has ever speculated about you two flies over your head, and for once in a great while, you stop caring enough to just do what you’ve always wanted to do, to finally actualize the fantasies you’ve played out over and over in your head.

Fuck it, you decide. If there’s any time to do this, it’s now. The extra shit can wait.

So, before any words, you kiss him.

You take note of the way he responds so gently to the initiation. It’s a tentative pressure, as if he’s testing the waters to see what you can handle before you pull away. But you don’t. You remain, and maybe part of that has to do with the adrenaline coursing through your veins or maybe it’s the part of you that seeks this wish fulfillment and wants to bask in it before reality sinks it.

The whole thing is indescribable. Of course, it is. All of your fantasies have never gotten you as far as the real deal. You wouldn’t have guessed just how close to peppermint he would taste, or that there would be a slight hint of honeyed lemons in the aftertaste. Like the treat promises, you feel invigorated, rejuvenated, and maybe even worst of all, hungry for a little more.

This is why you readjust your grip around his shoulders as you attempt to deepen the kiss. In response, his grip on your thighs tighten, as if he might be afraid you’ll disappear. And to your surprise, he kisses you back with just as much fervor, like it might be the last time.

You don’t remember what draws you apart, whether it’s one of his teammates jeering at you two or if it’s your respective needs to breathe, but you’re inclined to etch this new sight of him to memory. The way his chest heaves, his pupils dilated, and his lips all pink and swollen. It’s new and beautiful, and you wonder if it’ll happen again.

And then it hits you.

What you’ve done. Your head spins just a little.

“I’ve fucked us up, haven’t I?” Your words are no louder than a whisper, but it feels like it’s only you two right now. Nothing else to cut into this moment, though you almost sort of wish for an opportunity to sink into the ground because what the fuck did you just do?

All you can do is try to shake yourself away from him, back down to the ground, back to reality.

Kuroo keeps you in place and takes the chance to really look at you. His eyes scan your face for a trace of truth, not that this would be a hard feat anyway. You’ve never been good at hiding anything from him, not when you were kids, and most certainly not now. You wonder if he can read, “I’m totally and utterly in love with you” from your eyes or if it somehow materialized across your forehead like Kozume and Nobuyuki have always teased you.

“That’s not entirely fair,” he says, still faint with his usual teasing.

“Huh?” Your eyebrows knit together, and your lips seem to pull into an involuntary frown.

“That implies that you were the only one who compromised our friendship…” he pauses for a second as his bottom lip trembles and he gives an inaudible swallow, “right?”

“What are you getting at?” Simply the implication is enough to bring lightning to your skin, as if to resuscitate you back to a more serene state. Your heart can’t seem to handle this overload, however. You wonder if he can hear it.

“I think you know what I’m getting at...”

His cheeks have gone pinker than the cherry blossoms in spring. Of course, it should’ve been enough to confirm your suspicions. You could’ve left it at that, but for your sake, for your very own heart, you tell him what you need.

“Say it.”

One more look at you and it’s enough for him. Somehow you know that without being told.

“I love you.”

Your heart trembles, even louder now, like a thunderstorm. That strange calmness remains. The kind only he can elicit in you.

Kuroo looks at you in wait, in wonder, as if your answer wasn’t as clear as day already. You laugh a little and the corners of his lips turn upward.

“I love you too.”

He lets you drop down, of course, but only after another kiss.

You hold his hand and walk through the double doors you entered through.

This time together.

#kuroo scenarios #kuroo imagines #kuroo fanfic #kuroo fluff #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo x reader #emwrites #title: second nature

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hargrieve · 3 years

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hargrieve’s fic recs — september

happy unnaturally warm autumn! climate change is upon us! I am indoors and I keep reading and reading and reading. I'm kind of going through a kpop phase right now (three guesses as to who my biases are based on the fic below lmao). even though haikyuu did sink its hooks into me for like eight months, I initially started this fic rec series last year to keep track of my wandering hyperfixations, so here we are with my first major fandom swerve of the year! do not worry, haikyuu readers, I will be back for you so soon. season 5 when

(but seriously, txt blogs please hit me up, I am desperate)

@ravenclawboys <3

FANDOMS: HAIKYUU!!, BTS, TOMORROW X TOGETHER

Haikyuu!! recs:

zero to hero by sketchedsmiles

akagin; rated T+; 18.8k words; 1/1; gin pov

superhero au :) civilian gin is saved by masked superhero akagi

i’m a sucker for any and all superhero au’s but this one is especially well-done. i loved gin’s voice and akagi’s characterization and the way everything ties back together in the end :)

featuring miya atsumu who won’t stop chasing superheroes sightings on internet forums and kita shinsuke trying to shut down his posts

BTS recs:

let the waves chase us down by watchtheleaves @noctiluka

namjoon/seokjin/hoseok; rated T+; 5.7k words; 1/1; namjoon pov

summer camp counselor au. namjoon is sick in bed all day

a short but very complete au featuring ot7. one of my favorite things about this fic is that instead of the camp counselor setting being used as a get-together trope, each character (particularly hyung line) really has an established place in this universe

2seok are so sweet to classic overthinking namjoon

love is no big truth by venusghost

vmin, namkook; rated M; 3.6k words; 1/1; namjoon pov

in which an aghast and appalled namjoon can’t stop third-wheeling cosmic soulmates vmin. canon compliant, boy with luv era

“Be the leader of the group, they said. With your temperament, it’ll be easy, they said.“

SHORT HILARIOUS WONDERFUL READ that so captures the essence of both vmin soulmate behavior and kim namjoon’s philosophies on love. and also being in the wrong place at the wrong time

on earth we're briefly gorgeous by notyoongs

hopekook; rated T+; 17.8k words; 1/1; hoseok pov

hogwarts au in which charming hufflepuff quidditch player hoseok is a seventh-year and super shy ex-student jungkook is a ghost who has a big crush on him

as much as this is a cute hopekook fic, it is also a story about growth and spending time with the people you love and finding what makes you happy

kind of sad, as one would expect from a ship where one of them is a dead ghost, but it is very heartwarming. 10/10 cute

over + under by honeyboyyoon

vmin; rated E; 28.6k words; 1/1; taehyung pov

soulmate au where vmin are not soulmates

writer taehyung and the many painful ways in which he loves his not-soulmate jimin

my favorite thing was the imagery in the fic. I’m obsessed with the way the author writes weather and color and sensation into metaphor. pure prose poetry

TXT recs:

you wouldn't do it, but i just might by renaissances

yeonbin; rated T+; 17k words; 1/1; yeonjun pov

canon compliant trainee/pre-debut era. non-linear narrative where half the story is forward on the day that yeonjun’s introduction film was released in 2019 and half the story is in flashbacks

time-skipping narrative done extremely well. a yeonjun character study where he reconciles 1) the fact that he was bighit’s top-ranked legendary trainee, 2) the fact that soobin was named txt’s leader over him, and 3) his feelings for soobin

if any of you were around for when I cried over hatsuna’s “I wish to live in a world” back in march, I felt exactly the same emotions reading this. 10000/10 I love ao3 renaissance’s writing style and pacing and development so much

I feel like if you’ve been in the txt fandom longer than I have (and you definitely have), you’ve already read this

recs I received in my inbox (all for haikyuu!!):

a liar’s truth by internetpistol

sakuatsu; rated E; 50k words; 2/2

summary: “In which Sakusa Kiyoomi is raised to believe that gay people go to hell but then takes one look at Miya Atsumu and thinks, then why the hell did God make them so fucking hot?”

bound by internetpistol

sakuatsu; rated E; 68k words; 3/3

summary: “Miya Atsumu and Sakusa Kiyoomi get cast in a gay film together where they, in the words of The Great Philosopher Rihanna, fell in love in a hopeless place.”

one more time, with feeling by liliapocalypse

sakuatsu; rated T+; 15k words; 1/1

summary: “Kiyoomi has a crush, but there’s just one, tiny problem: he basically malfunctions around his senpai. So when he finds out that his high school rival and now college batchmate is actually a shapeshifter, he swallows his pride for a favor: he asks Atsumu to shapeshift as his crush and be his practice date.”

your ivy grows by sketchedsmiles

matsuhana; rated T+; 11k words; 1/1

summary: “When Hanamaki Takahiro shows up on Matsukawa’s doorstep after being fired from his second job in a row, it’s instinctual for Matsukawa to offer him a place to stay until he gets back on his feet again. // It doesn’t take long for the cracks in Hanamaki’s cheerful and upbeat exterior to appear, and it is up to Matsukawa to keep his best friend from falling over the edge completely.”

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past fic recs

send me a rec!

>> honestly, since these are no longer haikyuu-only lists, if you have any recent faves from your favorite fandoms, go ahead and pop them into my inbox and I will properly tag them when I post

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noperopesaredope · 3 years

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Unpopular Opinion: I LOVE Cilan (Pokemon)

So, recently I remembered that Pokemon Black and White exists and decided to look up some pics of my fav character, Cilan, for my banners. And I, who hasn’t really explored that fandom too much, found out that people don’t really like him. Now, I grew up with Black and White, it was a favorite of mine and Cilan was my childhood crush. So maybe I’m bias. But maybe I’m not, because I never had any expectations.

So, I decided to make this mini-rant on why I love Cilan from Pokemon.

I first developed a crush on Cilan (as a kid) because he gave off an odd maturity and calm to him, something I didn’t get often from characters. Though he can be, well, a lot when it comes to talking about pokemon, he real does try to teach people how to improve themselves. I really feel in love during the episode with the purple haired girl, since the way he talked to her just made me feel a certain way. Chill. Listened to. Vibing. I vibed with him as a kid.

But he isn’t always calm (just chill). I adore how, as someone once described it, flamboyant he is. I love characters who are just unashamed to be extra. About to do exposition? Poses, spotlights, and dramatic facial expressions. Playing the villain? Flowing cape, mask, and fancy voice. Dressing in drag? He does it better than the fancy girls. Some people may find this obnoxious, but honestly, I think I like him even more NOW because of it. I love over the top characters. One of my fav EAH OCs (that I’ve made), Magnificent Charming, is just a straight up theater kid. Speaking of him...

I headcanon Cilan to be neurodivergent. He is passionate about every topic he finds interesting, and knows a weird amount about each. This has ended up extending beyond just passion and into hyperfixation, something I can see in myself. Anytime the subject is even remotely related, he will go on a passionate rant about it, and will talk an obsessive amount about his current major hyperfixation in general. Mentions fishing? Talks about it non-stop for the rest of the week. Someone they meet makes movies? “I LOVE MOVIES LETS MAKE ONE RIGHT NOW HERE’S EVERY MOVIE EVER MADE AND DID I MENTION I LOVE ACTING DO YOU NEED AN ACTOR DO YOU WANT TO MAKE A MOVIE FRICK YEAH MOVIEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSS-” Pokemon? Tells you every fact he knows about the pokemon, gives you advice about pokemon, screams about pokemon, rants about pokemon, fanboys over pokemon-

This is great representation for me. I feel seen. Me and my sibling are neurodivergent peeps who never know how to stfu about something and will mention it as many times as we can in any and every conversation. I now know everything about Marvel because I haven’t heard about anything else in 2 weeks and every conversation we’ve had (50 extended interactions per day) has had Marvel in it. This is kind of the case with Cilan. I love this, as I can relate to the feeling of going on and on and on and on about something I’m passionate about, even if everyone else wants to talk about something else. I also just love hearing people excitedly talk about their passions and get really happy about them.

He’s just an absolute dork, and I love that.

Also related, Cilan’s really smart and good at his job. He knows a lot about pokemon and gives good advice, I think he went to a college for the connoisseur stuff, and he takes his job seriously. In the episodes with Skyla, he actually gets mad because he understands the importance and responsibility a gym leader has. He’s good at teaching in subtle ways (another important part of being a gym leader) and can give constructive critisizm with free connoisseur advice.

In conclusion, I have ADHD and don’t know how to end this. Basically, this boy is me, so I guess I’m some fandom’s least favorite character. That explains a lot.

(Sidenote: I thought he was, at most, 14 years old, which is why he’s my childhood crush. I looked it up out of curiousity, turns out he’s SIXTEEN. Legit my age. So I guess that if I felt like it, I could still crush on him now and it wouldn’t be weird)

#pokemon #gym leader cilan #cilan pokemon #unpopular opinion #neurodivergencies #neurodivgent headcanon #headcanon #actually neurodivergent #the previous tag refers to me btw #tw cursing

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im-the-punk-who · 4 years

Note

Hi! I’m new to the fandom and I’m simply curious (not trying to start a feud or anything), why don’t you like Steinberg?

Hello dear anon! And welcome to the fandom!

Oof. That’s a question. xD

I’m going to try and stay as uh. neutral as possible. Because I’ve already written the post I know I failed but, the intent in answering this is also not to start a feud or hurt anyone’s feelings.

Okay, so I got fairly negative in this chilis tonight, so I want to start by saying that even in light of the opinions I’m about to express, Black Sails is one of, if not my number one, favorite TV shows of all time. Certainly in recent memory - I’ve been hyperfixating on this show for 18 months with no sign of stopping, and I have a tremendous amount of respect for everyone who worked on the show - even Steinberg. (The one exclusion is Michael Bay, he can go twist.)

AND I think Stienberg is an incredibly talented writer. Black Sails is one of my favorite shows because it does such a wonderful job of weaving stories, creating characters, and melding things in a way that is both unexpected and makes sense narratively. I have changed as a person because of the show, and they will have to pry James McGraw and Thomas Hamilton from my cold dead knives-attached-to-them hands. None of what I’m going to say is meant to detract from that.

I will also say that a lot of these issues are not particular to Steinberg and are in fact a systemic problem with American TV + Film. And I’m not leaving Robert Levine out of my criticism, it’s just that Steinberg had the biggest hand in the pot(he wrote a full half the episodes) and a lot of what I’ve heard as far as talking about the show comes from Steinberg. So, he gets the brunt. But it isn’t that I think Steinberg was the only problematic element of the show.

Also, these are all my opinions and are colored by how I interact with my fandoms. I am not only a fandom veteran, but I work and pretty much live in the entertainment industry. I work in indie film and theatre and am surrounded by artists and creators of all walks of life, like, constantly. I know what is possible, and when I see something that can be improved, I want to note it because it is important to me to always be striving forward. Like Miranda says about Thomas, this isn’t out of malice, or out of hate. It’s because I genuinely love this show, and I love entertainment as a whole, and I think in order to get to a better, more inclusive industry we have to have hard conversations and look critically at the media we consume, and it is frustrating to me to time and again see the same faces in the room.

But if that isn’t your cuppa, that’s fine! Fandom isn’t meant to be stressful and if all you want to do is watch a show about gay pirates that is your tomato and I applaud you. Have at it you funky motherfucker.

OH! One more. At some point I’m going to talk about Silverflint. When I do, it is NOT meant as a ‘you shouldn’t/cant ship this’ or ‘this pairing is bad’ or any negative attack on the people who ship that pairing. My criticisms in this post are exclusively about what it means for Steinberg as a writer and Black Sails’ representation of gay and mlm men. While it’s not my cuppa, this is a sail your own ship blog.

OKAY! SO!

My main criticisms of Steinberg & Co boil down to:

The homozygosity of the writers and directors shows a complete lack of desire to include marginalized people in the writing of a show that is about them. Which leads to:

The centering of white men while choosing a historical setting and time period that was in fact dominated by people of color and specifically a black woman,

The gratuitous inclusion of violence against women, particularly sexual violence, and again, that the female characters are often sidelined for the central male characters.

SO.

Black Sails is a show centered around queer, female, and black leads, and yet there were only two non white-male directors (one bi-racial man and one white woman) and only 7 female writers - one of whom was Latina. The entire rest of the major creative staff was white men. I’m not going to comment on sexualities but none of the writers or directors are out as queer according to a quick google search.

Let me reiterate the important bit there.

In Black Sails, where the last two seasons specifically feature around a real, actually-happened-in-history event that shaped black history in the Caribbean, there was not a single black writer on the entire show.

This is the main difference between inclusion for inclusion’s sake, and actually centering marginalized voices. Black Sails has a ton of gay, POC, and female rep in front of the camera but practically zero representation behind it, which leads to storylines and implications that Steinberg and his writers, as white men, simply would never realize.

It’s like why Silver and Miranda never realized the true reasons James was waging war on England. They just did not have the life experiences to realize they were missing a piece of the puzzle, and so they filled in their own without even realizing they’d done so.

Because no one in the room of Black Sails was a part of these marginalized identities, nuances get lost or mistranslated, motivations get muddled through a white man’s gaze(or a straight person’s) and implications that someone within those communities might think is obvious won’t even come up.

And again, because there were no writers or directors of color in the last two seasons (the biracial man directed episodes 2x02 and 2x04 - WHICH MAKES SENSE IMO) the entirety of the historical lore that the show bases itself on in its latter half is filtered through a white man’s lens. And so there is no discussion of how changing something changes the meaning, how leaving someone out or changing their role to be more minor might affect people for whom that is their heritage. How the entire story they’re telling might change with one simple exclusion or addition.

So, how does this relate directly to Steinberg, you ask? Well, simply, because it was his show.

Steinberg(and Levine) were involved in every major decision about the show, from its conception, to the script, to choosing the writers and directors. They chose how they wanted the show to look, to think, what stories to tell and how they wanted to tell them. Their decisions(and the biases that formed those decisions) are woven into the show.

And look. I don’t for a second believe any of this was willful or malicious. I don’t think that John Steinberg and Robert Levine sat down one day and said ‘you know what would make the gays really angry? If we locked the only two canonically gay men up in a prison camp.’

But the decisions that were made in the show were based in ignorance in a way that shows more than just simple negligence or laziness(especially given the attention to detail in everything else). The things they leave out or change in the Maroon War plotline for instance are not small details easily missed. They are big, giant waving flags. They are things that are irreplaceable to still have the same events and stories and tell them respectfully.

It shows an insane amount of privilege to, for instance, write a show airing during a time when the Black Lives Matter movement was at the forefront of the American conscience, include black characters and black storylines, and yet not include a single black voice on their creative team.

In a show that centers a gay man’s love and his journey in attempting to process the horrible things done to him and his lover because of it, we are given just forty minutes of the entire show dedicated to their relationship - and just fifteen of those minutes actually feature the lover!

(Relatedly, the entirety of the gay romantic rep is two kisses, and a forehead touch. That’s the entirety of your gay intimacy representation. And yet there are in the first two seasons alone - because that’s all I’ve clocked so far - something like twenty seven minutes of scenes involving a naked or half naked woman. Five minutes of that is explicitly wlw sex.

Again, I just want to reiterate this because it’s important in recognizing bias.

There is fully twice as much female nudity in the first two seasons, as the entirety of the time the two gay characters have together on screen. )

Steinberg is a perfect example of how a lack of understanding why the diversity you are representing is important, matters. I dislike Steinberg because he, just like every other straight white cis man I have known, profited off of marginalized voices without including them or creating with them in mind.

Art does not exist in a vacuum. You cannot create something - especially something as back breakingly, intensely a labor of love as Black Sails - without putting several pieces of yourself into it. But those pieces color your narrative. They will expose things about you that you don’t even realize. And it’s in these places we are weakest, and why a diverse group of writers with a diverse group of experiences can help a piece be stronger. But for whatever reason, John Steinberg thought that he could make art with only people who looked and thought and experienced like him.

The lack of representation behind the camera in Black Sails was evident in front of it and yet Steinberg is out here getting to pretend like he created the most inclusive groundbreaking show that ever existed. It is important to me, personally, to acknowledge that. And that it kind of makes my skin crawl in the way all media made by straight white (cis)men makes my skin crawl. I wish I didn’t have to feel that way about my favorite tv show just because it was created by a man of privilege, but here we are.

SO. I hope that helped? Feel free to take what you want and leave what you don’t!

Below the cut is a more in depth look at things that I think show what I’m talking about, but that up there ^^ is the gist. <3 |D

SURPRISE!

The Maroons and the Maroon War

So the first thing I want to point out is that the Maroon War was a real thing that happened. It lasted ten years, and resulted in the most substantial victory the Maroons ever achieved against the British. Not only that, there was in fact a KICKIN’ badass female leader of the maroons named Queen Nanny, who is to this day honored as a national hero in Jamaica. While they weren’t able to drive the British out, the outcome of this war led to a mostly self-governing Maroon population in Jamaica from the mid 1700s on. This was a long term fight that had a very tangible and real outcome, even if it didn’t end in the destruction of colonialism.

And what is this war turned into in Black Sails? A white ‘madman’s revenge’ that is doomed to failure after six months.

That, my dear pirates, is a problem for me. (And those familiar with my brand of spiceyness know that I do not ascribe to the ‘Flint is a Madman’ trope, but that IS what Steinberg ascribes to, what he seems to have written the show thinking.)

There was no narrative reason to include the Maroon War in the narrative of Black Sails. The Maroon War didn’t happen until a decade after the Golden Age of Piracy, and aside from Silver’s wife being a black woman there is no mention of Silver ever having contact with them. To me, this feels like the choice of a showrunner who found a cool historical event and saw a chance to up the stakes of their white male heroes while getting in some sweet sweet POC rep.

Except that they then took the major events of the Maroon War and gave them to their white characters, Flint and Silver.

Here’s the thing. If you’re going to take a piece of culturally important history and use it for your show, you NEED to have sensitivity writers. You need to have people who are at least familiar with those events and who care about them to do them justice. Have an expert come in and read your script or go over your ideas. Or just like. Hire a black writer. Hire ONE black writer. As a treat.

The important Maroon figures, Nanny, Cudjoe, and Quao, all get sidelined or ‘sexified’ and then used as plot points for the white characters. Nanny gets split into two women - the older mother queen and Madi, the young naive warbent visionary. Quao(Mr. Scott is the closest, or Kofi possibly) gets killed off because the writers realized they didn’t exactly have a place for him in their writing. Cudjoe(Julius) gets a few scenes and one good speech but his entire role in the war gets given to Silver. And THEN. That sexy Queen Madi figure gets used as emotional bait for Silver and then has to learn he has betrayed her and destroyed the hope and freedom she had wanted to bring to her people.

Gross, pirates. Gross.

Anne Bonny/Max/Mary Read - a heads up, this section includes a semi in-depth discussion of both Max and Anne’s sexual assaults. If that bothers you, the paragraphs talking about that begin with a ***

COOL NOW LET’S TALK ABOUT LESBIANS. Words my 20 year old self would never have imagined coming out of my mouth.

Specifically, I want to talk about Max, and Anne, and their backstories both involving extreme sexual trauma at the hands of men. And then Mary Read and the once again sexification of female characters.

(Actually while I’m here another criticism I have of Steinberg is that his writing does not seem to recognize how queer people existed in the past - again, likely because he didn’t have any gay historians to be like ‘actually buddy that doesn’t make sense also why is Anne not dressing as a man? If you want to fuck with anything and insert modern day terminology and ideas into this show, make her non binary and REALLY piss off the hetties.’)

(This same ficitonal gay dramaturg who is definitely not me has also questioned John Steinberg repeatedly about where Mary Read is, unsatisfied with the answer ‘well we wanted her to be hot so we made her a sex worker and then had Anne have to rescue her but then we realized it would be weird not to include her actual character so we gave her a five second cameo at the very end of the series and also made her like 13.’)

Anyway! So my main point in bringing up Anne and Max is the sexual trauma they are exposed to in the show, particularly being that they are the two primary wlw in the show, who Steinberg has said he views as being completely gay, and what THAT whole unexamined idea looks like.

***Max. My dear Max. There was literally no reason to have her be repeatedly r*ped(and for the love of god there was even less reason to make it that gratuitous and graphic). Max being assaulted like that did not add anything to the gravity of Eleanor’s betrayal. The traumatic event was being tossed aside by Eleanor, and that could have been just as emotionally damaging without the sexual assault. And the only reason for her to be continually assaulted was to bring her and Anne together.

***The reason imo that Max’s r*pe plot was added was because it was the only thing these white straight men could come up with that felt emotionally damaging enough to them. The act of betrayal itself wasn’t enough, the act of being thrown away, of having a lover put your life in danger because of her own ambitions wasn’t enough, they needed her to be r*ped to really drive home the point.

***Anne, on the other hand, is never shown being sexually abused, but we are given an explicit account of her own traumatic history and how Jack saved her from this vile beast who was passing her around to his friends.

But here’s the thing pirates - that never happened. According to every account we have of Anne Bonny, she chose her husband, and married him against her father’s wishes. They were probably relatively happy until her husband started being a pirate spy and Anne started cheating on him with Jack.

And yes, when they were found out. Her husband had her beat. That’s not fucking cool, and if they really wanted to go the damsel in distress route they still could have had Jack ‘save’ her from that. But at no point was she sexually abused by her husband(at least not in any accounts I’ve read.)

You know who did likely sexually abuse her or at least manipulate her and Mary for his own benefit? If you guessed our Rat man Jack Rackham, you would be correct, because when he found out about Mary and Anne’s (supposed, but probably real) relationship, it’s implied he extorted both of them into fucking him to keep their secret from the crew.

The addition of sexual abuse to Anne’s past isn’t done to be true to her character and was in fact explicitly untrue. Now of course I don’t know the reasons why they chose to do this, but I can guess. Just as with Max, the most traumatic thing a male writer can think of for a female character is for them to be sexually abused.

And the most disturbing part of this to me? The parallels it has to the real world of why straight men think lesbians exist. These characters who would be called man haters in present day are given these incredibly traumatic man-centered histories. It brings up something very uncomfortable in me about particularly wlw sexuality being viewed as a reaction to trauma at the hands of men. It’s just gross, I dont like it, and honestly there is no fucking excuse for it besides a room full of white straight men writing this bullshit. A room that Steinberg chose, because they fit his ideas.

In Fact heck, the women of Black Sails in general

***I honestly struggle to think of a single female character who I think was treated fairly in Black Sails. Miranda and Eleanor are killed for taking sides and not understanding their partners, Madi is betrayed in the worst way possible, Max is given a pseudo empowering ending but has that fucking terrible start. Idelle ends off fairly well, but tied to a man she may or may not have any actual feelings for, in what is essentially a political marriage. And Anne has her entire identity tied to a man who will be dead in two years as she is robbed of any agency whatsoever without him. (Oh, and the whole r*pe thing. And also her support for Max’s r*pe or death until she started having fee-fees. Who wrote this stuff. >_>)

Even though the characterization of each and every one of these women is PHENOMENAL - and again I will repeat that I absolutely LOVE these characters as they exist in a vacuum. I think they are well rounded, real, feeling people given motivations and drives and FEELINGS and they SHOW THEIR ANGER and i LOVE THEM.

But the show punishes them for it. Miranda is essentially fridged to move Flint’s storyline along, and to make room for Silver. Eleanor is killed for the emotional damage it will cause Rogers. Madi is placed at the center of a conflict she explicitly says she is willing to die for and then not only is her entire cause taken from her, but when she tells Silver to fuck off he - in possibly the most predictable white man move ever - says ‘no i will stay until you change your mind. I will never leave you. I don’t care about your choice in this matter, I will wait forever for you. I’m your biggest fan. I’ll follow you until you love me. papa, - paparazzi.’

And I touched on this before, but I want to talk in more detail about what is possibly my hottest take to date, the sexification of Mary Read and Queen Nanny, as they are presented in the show.

Max is to Anne what Mary Read is, historically. She is the lover that Jack Rackham discovers with Anne, and then he joins them in their bed. They form a triumvirate that upholds Jack at the expense of the women. But for some reason, Steinberg didn’t want to just include Mary Read as an actual character. For some reason he needed to make Anne’s love interest a sex worker who was in need of saving (and who, coincidentally, we never see working the brothel after she becomes lovers with Anne, because she is now a madam. :) Gross.)

And Madi. My dear sweet fucking Madi who didn’t fucking deserve any of this bullshit send tweet.

So, historically, Queen Nanny was the Queen, spiritual advisor, and the military tactician of the Windward Maroons. She would have filled both Madi and the Queen’s character roles(and Flint’s, but who’s counting. A BLACK GAY LEAD? Inconceivable. I digress.) But, I guess, because they were wishy-washing with Silver’s sexuality or felt they needed to give him a female love interest because of Treasure Island, or because they were leaning a bit too hard into the gay shit and needed to backpedal, they took Queen Nanny and split her into a character who is for all intents and purposes powerless in the war and Madi, who is young and naive and does not have any real world experience outside of the Maroon camp.

Because that’s sexy, or something. They could have had the Maroon Queen be a fucking badass lady who works and fights alongside Flint and Silver and one ups them and teaches them shit and has her own ideas about where the British can stick it, but instead they made her into the perfect caricature of a female monarch, letting the big strong men handle the dirty work or something. Because white male power fantasies.

Just let women be powerful and not nubile and let them have character arcs over fucking thirty and let them be CENTERED in their own. fucking. narratives.

God damnit Steinberg.

James Flint, mlm extraordinaire

Oh, my love. My most amazing child. The light of my life. My purest cinnamon roll.

~~And now we’ve come to the dreaded Silverflint criticism part of our programming. Please please know and remember this isn’t a criticism of people who ship Silverflint. As I said up top, Your Tomato Is Not My Tomato and that’s cool. Please don’t take this next part as an attack on Silverflint as a fandom ship.~~

My criticism of Steinberg as it relates to Flint is related to:

What a romantic/sexual relationship with Silver being the basis of the tension and plot means for Flint in particular as a gay or mostly mlm man.

Refusing to confirm Thomas and James being alive at the end and honestly the whole finale in general but like I’ll try and focus.

The major problem I have with Silver and Flint being coded as in love with each other is the implications there in terms of gay men’s relationships to other men.

From every corner, men are inundated with the idea that any close relationship between them must be gay. That intimacy cannot exist unless there are sexual feelings involved. That a relationship cannot be close, deep and soul shattering and life altering, unless one guy secretly(or not so secretly) wants to bone the other dude. That two men cannot value each other as partners or friends or truly know each other unless they are gay.

Seeing both of the meaningful relationships Flint forms with other men be sexually coded feels a bit the same way as Anne and Max’s sexual assault plotlines does vis-a-vis being wlw. (Even with Gates, Flint never spoke about Thomas or his plans - Silver is absolutely the closest person to Flint besides Thomas and Miranda.) And this is just as true for Silver. Having both Flint and Madi - the two people he trusts - both be people he’s in love with also just feels. I don’t know.

It feels like a confusion between male intimacy and male love that is so so familiar to me as a gay man I could choke on it. Where they wanted these men to have a deep and really lasting connection, but could only figure out how to do it if they were in love. Friendship wouldn’t have been enough - only romantic and sexual love is enough for the gay man(or men, at all).

Just because it isn’t queerbaiting doesn’t mean it’s good rep, and I would have liked to see truly deep male friendships that did not center on sexual attraction - particularly for Flint as a confirmed mlm(and Silver too, if you’re counting him. The same arguments for why I dislike Flint being paired with Silver are also true in the reverse.)

Even if both Flint and Silver were confirmed mlm I still would have LOVED to see a platonic relationship between them. In fact I would have loved that EVEN MORE. Men! Who fuck men! Not needing to fuck each other to be important to one another! Who made this. Very delicious.

But because there weren’t any queer writers on the show, writers who understand this kind of struggle that gay and mlm men face, they thought ‘oh, let’s also have them be in love with each other. More gay rep is better gay rep, right?’ False. THOUGHTFUL gay rep is better gay rep.

Okay and here’s my last thing. The fact that Steinberg refuses to say whether or not the explicitly mlm men are alive at the end of the show - that the words he specifically uses are ‘up for interpretation’ is. Fuck, it’s gross, okay? It’s fucking gross.

I have been around enough men, enough people in power, enough people with leverage who also know how to play the field, to know that when someone wants a group’s support but does not agree with them, their go to phrasing is that it is ‘up for debate’ or ‘up for interpretation.’

Say the gays are alive. Steinberg refusing to acknowledge the reality of the ending of his show to maintain his own sense of artistic integrity is what, honestly, really sets me off about him and I don’t care if this is a nuanced take.

Like yes, death of the author. I honestly don’t care if he thinks they’re dead or alive. What I care about is that he thinks he can get away with being clever and leaning hard into a story is true/untrue’ - doesn’t realize what the implications of that are, and didn’t when he was writing, and didn’t have anyone else in the room who would think about it either.

ANYWAY. So this is....my long drawn out explanation for why I do not like Steinberg. Uhhhhh tune in next week for more of my totally unpopular opinions!

#good....fucking lord #i am so sorry #how many opinions can milo fit in one post #i mean i have more but yknow lmao #black sails #behind the black sails #milos black sails meta #long posts #my increasingly devoted attempts to find tumblrs word limit #Anonymous #john steinberg #js critical but the js is jon steinberg

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neighbourskid · 3 years

Text

2020

What a year, huh? Surely not anything anyone has expected to happen when we woke up on this day a year ago. I certainly haven’t. I’m not even sure, now, where to begin to sum up this year like I’ve done years prior. But then again... I may just as well just dive right into all the media I consumed this year, as I have done every year. I haven’t kept track as detailed as I have last year, but my year was definitely punctuated by pieces of entertainment that have come into my life.

Continuing on from 2019, my obsession with Good Omens was still going strong. Which was ideal, since I was gonna spend the first half of the year writing my Bachelor thesis on it. The intensity of the obsession may have waned a bit since, but I still love that show and book dearly and hold it close to my heart, and I don’t think that will ever stop. But while Good Omens was certainly an overall theme throughout my year, there were some other things that actually stood out.

With January came new episodes of Doctor Who, and having returned to that particular bandwagon the year prior, I was all about that. Jodie’s second season finally brought what I had longed for in her first--a darker kind of Doctor. She wasn’t quite as bubbly anymore, you could finally see some of the depths in the character that I loved so in the previous regenerations, which made me love Peter’s Doctor so incredibly much. In this season, I felt, Jodie was finally becoming the Doctor. Overall, that season catered to me personally every single episode. So many of the time periods they visited were of people I loved, and the introduction of Sacha Dhawan as the Master was absolutely....well, masterful. Sacha is brilliant in that role and I am utterly stunned by his talent. Although both John Simm and Michelle Gomez brought things to the Master that I liked, it’s Sacha’s completely unhinged take on it that made me finally like the character. He’s a madman and I love it.

The next major thing was The Good Place. I tend to have a talent of getting into shows just as they either ended their entire show, or the final season is just coming up. It’s happened quite a bit, and it was the same with this. I finally binged the show early in January and it would end its final season at the end of the month. True to form, I was completely obsessed with it for about a month, before I only occasionally thought about it again. But, thinking back now, I get this incredibly fond feeling for this show, and I remember that the finale absolutely wrecked me and I basically ugly sobbed through the entirety of it. Also very true to form, actually. I want to rewatch it again some time, but honestly preferably with someone who has never seen it before. Which, obviously, is a difficult thing to do given, well, everything.

Next up is something that surprised me a lot. In the middle of having to write my BA thesis, my procrastination thought it would be a great idea to rewatch and catch up on the entirety of Criminal Minds. And so I binged 15 seasons of that instead of writing my thesis. Which, coincidentally, had also just aired its final season not long before I started my binge in March. Rewatching this, I realised just how little I took in of the actual, like, stuff in the show when I first watched it as a teen. Although I mostly cared about the characters and their found family this time around--although I do find the cases really fascinating most of the time too--I noticed just how much I am not watching this for the fact that they are in the FBI. I was hyperaware of how often they shot at people before doing anything else, how many of the suspects died before ever being questioned or being brought in, and it made my skin crawl. I am aware how fucked up the criminal justice system is, and especially in the US, how the police functions and how incredibly glorified they are in the media. But rewatching this show, I realised how little I actually paid attention to anything when I was younger. Big yikes. Still, I remembered my love for these characters, and I really enjoyed that rewatch a whole lot. Found family will always get to me.

Once I finished writing my thesis and handed it in early in July, I then found my next momentary obsession: Community. The show had finally come to Netflix earlier in the year and a friend of mine had watched it then. I remember watching that pilot episode back then and being completely uninterested in watching it. The comedy felt like it wasn’t quite up my street, the characters were entirely unlikeable, and I especially disliked Jeff who the show was more or less centred around. I binged Criminal Minds instead, but then decided to give it another try. And, well, I watched it twice through without taking a break to watch something else in-between. Ironically, and maybe actually unsurprisingly, Jeff ended up being my favourite and I found myself relating a lot to him and his arc throughout the series. I even found myself writing some short ficlet-like things in the notes app on my phone. I made an attempt at starting a third watch, but I guess then the month was up, and my brain decided it was time for something else. My hyperfixations usually tend to die out after about a month. Which is why my complete devotion to Good Omens was a pleasant surprise. I did, however, end up watching quite a bit of Joel McHale and Ken Jeong’s The Darkest Timeline podcast throughout August.

Early in September, while already preparing for the new term at uni, and my first semester in my Master’s studies, I then turned to New Girl. Friends of mine had seen it and recommended it, and I remember watching probably the entire first season on TV while I was in San Diego the first time around back in 2016. Or at least I think it was the entire first season. Either way, I binged that whole thing, realised through Nick Miller that the go-to character I am drawn to and tend to project on in any piece of media is usually what I like to call “the garbage man,” which Nick is a prime example of. And although I spent a month watching the show in-between starting university again and volunteering at a film festival, I didn’t spend much time afterward thinking about it and moved on to other things rather quickly. I enjoyed watching it, that much I remember, and I’m pretty sure I cried at the finale because it was done wonderfully, but seeing as another month was up, my brain was probably like “okay fine that’s enough”.

I then spent most of fall and early winter watching every single bad Christmas movie available on Netflix, which was quite fun. In that moment of festivity, I also watched a movie I found absolutely brilliant and fell in love with immediately. It’s a beautiful movie called Jingle Jangle, it has a magnificent soundtrack and is absolutely incredible. I had no idea Forest Whitaker could sing and he completely blew me away. If you haven’t seen it already, I highly recommend it. It doesn’t matter that Christmas is already over, it’s beautiful either way.

By the time December finally rolled around, I was already over the whole Christmas thing, to be honest and I turned away from festive movies or shows, and eventually ended up finally picking up a gem I had heard much about and had been meaning to watch for a while. A show which, as it were, also aired its final season earlier this year. This little show is Schitt’s Creek. I will be going on about what this show means to me probably in another post at length, but for now just let me say: if you haven’t seen it, find some place to watch it, and put this beautiful show in your eyeballs. I am on my second run through already (although I’ve seen the second half of the show a second time already while watching it with a friend on their first run through), and it brings me so much fucking joy. It’s a gift, this show. And it will likely stay with me for a very, very long time.

That’s about it for the big things. I also watched a whole lot of other stuff, including entirely new things, or just newly released seasons of things I was already watching. Here’s what I can remember off the top of my head:

Charlie’s Angels (2020). The Night Manager. The Witcher. Dolittle (2020). The Librarians (rewatch). Harley Quinn (2020). Sonic the Hedgehog (2020). The Chef Show (S1 part 3, S2 part 1). Avenue 5. Money Heist (part 4). The Good Fight (S4). Brooklyn Nine-Nine (S7). DuckTales (2017 reboot). Frankenstein live. Staged (2020). Hamilton. Sense8. Julie and the Phantoms. The Boys in the Band. One Night in Miami. Enola Holmes. Supernova. His Dark Materials (S2). Happiest Season. The Great Canadian Baking Show.

I also got some reading done in-between what I had to read for my thesis in spring, and then for regular university courses in fall. Here’s some of what I can remember:

Anthony Horowitz, The House of Silk. Ramona Meisel, Sunblind. Donna Tartt, The Secret History. Good Omens novel and script book. Matt Forbeck, Leverage: The Con Job. Keith R.A. Decandido, Leverage: The Zoo Job. Greg Cox, Leverage: The Bestseller Job. Greg Cox, The Librarians and the Lost Lamp. Greg Cox, The Librarians and the Mother Goose Chase. Greg Cox, The Librarians and the Pot of Gold. Neil Gaiman, Marvel 1602. Christina Henry, The Lost Boy. Neil Gaiman, Norse Mythology. John Green, An Abundance of Katherines. Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Aurora Leigh. Maria Konnikova, The Confidence Game.

Having mulled over all this entertainment I consumed in 2020, there are also some non-tv or book things I need to point out. As many, many other people around the globe, I have also spent a large amount of time this year on my Nintendo Switch, playing Animal Crossing: New Horizons. It is a game I have waited for since the Switch was first announced, and I fell in love with it from the moment the first trailer dropped. It has brought me great joy in this weird fucking year, and I have more or less consistently played it since it came out in March. I ended this year with the in-game New Year’s Eve celebration and I feel like that summed up this year quite neatly and appropriately.

This year also brought with it another game very close to my heart: Super Mario Sunshine. With their release of Super Mario 3D All-Stars in September, Nintendo finally brought my all-time favourite Mario game to my all-time favourite console, and I played the entire game through in the first week of owning it, in-between university courses and volunteering at the film festival. Also contained in that package was Super Mario Galaxy which I have also played through in its entirety since. All that’s left for me now is Super Mario 64, which I am excited to play through in the coming year.

And to round off my year of entertainment, there are two more things I would like to mention. First, David Tennant Does A Podcast With..., which released its second season this summer. It is one of the only, if not the only podcast I keep up to date with and listen to immediately whenever a new episode drops. I’ve loved the first season dearly, and David came back with some incredibly fantastic guests for the second season as well. I can’t wait for what the podcast will bring in the future, but I will wait patiently until it is time. I can highly recommend it for everyone who likes interesting conversations between lovely people who clearly adore each other a whole lot.

And finally, while this year brought a whole lot of bullshit with it, it also gave me something I never thought possible and did not even dare to imagine in my wildest dreams. My all-time favourite show announced that it would be rebooted with the same main cast (minus one), a new wonderful member, and involvement of the original creators, and even started filming already in summer. Leverage is coming back. I still cannot believe it. I hoped for a movie, always. That maybe one day, they might bring the gang back together, for one last job, just one more encore. But to get a whole new tv-show with Aldis, Christian, Gina and Beth returning? With the addition of Noah Wyle? I can’t wrap my head around it. I am so excited for this. I predict that I will ugly sob through the entirety of the pilot episode, if not the first season, and will have to rewatch every episode because of it, but I have no doubt that it will be brilliant and wonderful.

True to form, I have now gone on about tv shows and movies for far too long, and haven’t really said anything about this year at all. 2020 was fucking weird. And I don’t think 2021 will be much different quite yet. I wrote an entire BA thesis in 2020. I successfully finished by Bachelor’s degree and started my Master’s studies and even got some excellent first grades in as well. I was lucky enough to be able to see some friends and family throughout the year, and even celebrate my birthday with a small circle of friends. I’ve become closer with friends, shared experiences I wouldn’t trade for the world, and, I think, maybe also grown a bit as a person.

I started this year excited to finally be able to start taking testosterone in February, and to finish the first part of my studies by summer. Although I did both of these things, they didn’t happen quite how I imagined them, but I am glad that I could do these things nevertheless.

2020 was a hell year, for sure. But there were some moments in there that I wouldn’t want to lose.

I’ve tried very hard to not be optimistic about this upcoming year, and rather take a more realistic, even pessimistic approach. But I can’t help but be hopeful. Hopeful that this year will be kind to us, and if it isn’t, that at least, we’ll be kind to ourselves and each other. It won’t be easy, and not much will change, I think. But we have to approach the coming time with kindness and compassion. That’s where I’m at currently. And I think that’s all for now.

Be well, friends, and take care.

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icannotweave · 4 years

Text

250 followers!!!

whaaaaatttttttt?!?!?!?

🥳💕🥳💕🥳

ok. Huge Deal cause i never thought i’d ever have more than like....half a hundred followers??? i am SO Flattered. Delighted. i shall endeavor to Feed my followers with incoherent, sporadic content with no rhyme or reason between my interests!!! keep enjoying my hyperfixations as much as i do!!!

mutuals i Love & always will & are Far Too Cool!!! 💕💖😍🥰😍💖💕

@amidalis - Kiki, you rainbow-infused space unicorn, you Scream so wonderfully about your passions!!! it inspires me to scream about mine!!! you’re sweet, you’re positive, you’re an infectious spirit - a confetti bomb on my dashboard!!!

@dumbassrights - Magali, you take No Bullshit. your opinions are Valid & it makes your Brain Huge. you are so self-possessed & yet unafraid to be vulnerable when it matters, which only makes you seem stronger to me. it’s absolutely amazing to have such a Proud & Unapologetic Pansexual in my ranks. you make me more confident about my sexuality & i can never thank you enough for being in my corner.

@royharper - Eli!!!! an Icon??? they are a Lesbian Icon! an Indigenous Icon!!! a Non-Binary Icon?? A GENIUS TALENTED ARTIST!???! how?!? i have Loved this person from day one & their aesthetic and content is always Bold & Beautiful & Raw & Funny. you’ve been Utterly Too Sweet to me since i worked up the courage to talk to you about joyfire head canons & look where we are now!!! you deserve all the fucking happiness in the world.

@elphaba - Mercedes, holy shit, i could not BELIEVE when you followed me back one day out of the fucking blue??? WOW. *stars in my eyes* your blog has the BEST random-ass content and you know what, bitch, that’s what i live for??? whenever i get a notification that you reblogged or liked something i posted, i feel so Glad!! you are a woman behind the shadows of a *chef’s kiss* blog but i am STOKED we are mutuals!!!

@lovewithagirl - Siobhan, you are another peep i cannot even BUY i am mutuals with??? anytime i see your stuff on my dash, i get a thrill of positivity. i either come away from your blog informed or comforted and often both. i’ve learned a fuck-ton from you & gotten drawn into so many fandoms cause of your enthusiasm for them!! you’re a beautiful & heartening presence & you continue to do what you do to be so goshdarn ethereal!!

@imblessedtoexist - Gach? oh? a league of villains bitch? a naruto bitch? you mean an ICON???? she is a SCREAMER of niche opinions, which are Valid As Fuck, all of them, and also makes me wanna scream MY niche opinions too!!! i love her vibes, her impeccable, chaotic vibes. you are COOL and your ART! IS! STUNNING!! you are rad as hell and please Never! Stop! Being! That! Bitch!!!

folks i follow!!! who! are! brilliant! 💕😘🤩🥰🤩😘💕

@batmanisagatewaydrug - they are the definition of Big Dick Energy. advice? stellar. vibes? affirming as hell. aesthetic? aspiringly chaotic. a lovely sex witch, cackling into the void, we are so glad for such benevolent and mischievous a figure!!!

@thesweetpianowritingdownmylife - first peep i ever followed on this hellsite, holy shit i was So Lucky it was them. i learned So Much from them. social justice & sexuality & fat positivity & all the New, Frightening Shit little ol’ me didn't dare think about. from afar, i always am grateful for how much i learned & still learn from them.

@haro-whumps - you wanna talk about High-Quality & Tasty whump??? holy shit, their original content is So Fucking Good it legit inspired me to write whump & start a sideblog. has been so fucking encouraging to me on a writing & personal level. thx, Haro, from the blackened corners of my heart! you individual of mysterious and indistinct gender, you are Cool & Kind as Fuck, PLEASE never stop writing. *devil grins*

@ibuzoo - their aesthetics are. What. I Mean. Major Jealous, they crank out such absolutely STUNNING content. as someone who fucks around with aesthetics, this blogger is a HUGE inspiration & their frankly flawless content makes me wanna be be just a little bit better at my moodboards.

@philcoulsonismyhero - a quadruple threat, all four A’s, this absolutely brilliant and positive as hell, autistic agender asexual aromantic Icon!!! their attitude always uplifts me So Much & their hopepunk vibes make me optimistic about a better world.

@pocmodels - it’s nice to have such a breath-catching compilation of gorgeous-as-hell people. thx for your service. sincerely, a flustered Pansexual.

@pugszler - Cathy, only the Best and Most Valid BNHA content from you!!! oh my goodness, you’re so sweet & kind to everyone on your blog!!! a lovely little ray of sunshine on my timeline, your vibes are Warm and Compassionate As Fuck!!! love you!!!

@whumpster-dumpster - Red, oh my goodness, her content?? is??? impeccable. incomparable. insanely good & responsible for some of the best whump ideas i’ve ever seen. you’re creative as hell & the output of your content is??? hilariously productive??? congrats. your answers are always so helpful, so detailed & informative, & i’ve learned a ton of super cool shit from you!!!

@whumping-every-day - uhhhhhhhhh, Sara??? you’re writing LITERALLY took the breath out of me & the fact that you allowed me to play around with your characters is such a huge honor. you write pain exquisitely & it’s inspiring. you are so sweet to everyone in your inbox & encouraging to every prompt!!! you are incredible!!!

once again, i. am. living. thx SO much!!! 🥳💕🥳💕🥳

#ooooooooh boy oh boy this is long as fuck but i am so happy!!!#Raye posts #Raye musings #followers

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it-stheaulifeforme · 4 years

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more consimilli information, hand it over

wefkhrkgjheruih, hELL YEAH I WILL

i named consimili through translating ‘walking corpse’ into Latin because that’s how you effectively are by the end and i thought, my original name is Latin and i felt i would like how it would sound translated to that language. i also did it because ‘walking corpse syndrome’ was a bit of a mouthful and also happened to be the name of an existing disease that revolved around the person thinking they were actually dead, so it still made sense to use that term but in Latin as an interesting parallel where in a way a person with consimili is actually a corpse by the end of it, akhfejkdhggrjkgh i gUESS

okay so since developing it a few days ago i’ve adjusted it, so there’s still four stages that can go sort of smoothly from one to the one whilst having symptoms to be able to distinctly tell the stages apart like

stage 1: literally invisible. you are not aware of this stage. anything that does appear can be attributed to anything else, especially since your immune system is getting broken down and making you more susceptible to other kinds of infection. known as the incubation stage, before any symptoms appear. lasts usually for a couple of weeks.

stage 2: symptoms begin to appear, but usually non specifically. this is what i call the prodromal stage, because that is the time between when symptoms first appear and more of the full blown specific characteristics of the disease. the early part of this stage is the equivalent of the flu, with aches, coughing, fatigue, nausea, blurred vision and loss of appetite. this is possibly due to the fact that the immune system is weakened and there’s generally little damage internally, although this will make it easier for the infection to creep up before attacking.

- late stage 2 the infection has really attacked the organs and begun to break them down and starting to turn you into something else, effectively chipping away at your personhood. here, the symptoms are more specific, such as death of skin tissue, vomiting blood (ruptured organs), migraines and lower sensitivity to light (y’know that glazed over look of zombies’ eyes?? y e a h, this is when it really starts). lasts at least a few days, at most a week.

stage 3: the majority of the decomposition of the organs takes place here, but what borders late stage 2/early stage 3 is the involvement of infrequent jerky movements and uncontrollable moments of aggression. this is when the infection has approached and started attacking the brain. this stage does continue on the decomposition from the previous stage but it is separated by the fact that when the previous one ends and this begins, the infection has reached the brain.

- this stage is when things start getting aggressive and more specific. however, it is not the most dangerous stage. that’s stage 4. nonetheless, it is to prepare you for it, especially as the aggression becomes more frequent and stuff like migraines become more intense. the infection is already changing you on a cellular level, but your brain is pretty much at the centre of all this, this is who you are. you were already being stripped of your personhood late stage 2/early stage 3, but as you make your way towards stage 4, things become a lot more intense as your brain is invaded and the whole chemistry of it gets altered for the full frontal assault that is the next stage. it’s even quicker, generally all taking place within 24 hours, especially when your brain is even more vulnerable.

(you’ll also know when stage 4 is approaching, because there are multiple prodromes that warn you beforehand, such as when you stop vomiting blood near the end of the decomposition in the late stage, pain across the whole body, moments of sudden energy that easily tire you out and the general drying up of previous symptoms except intense jerky movements, intense aggression, decaying skin and pretty much completely glazed over vision)

stage 4: woah booyyyyy. i call this the brain death stage for a reason. your brain is having a full on assault to finish the process of changing you entirely into a zombie where you don’t retain any human functioning. it’s also sending your whole body pain signals because of how overloaded it is and you are in the process of intense seizures as a result. this stage is recognised when you start having them alongside a whole bunch of agony happening in your system. your body isn’t helping because it’s trying to win a losing battle by effectively fighting itself. since this is a complete assault to finish the process, you will officially be completely turned in about an hour once this stage starts. of course, when you’re in pain, an hour feels like an eternity.

by the end of it, you’re a stumbling, decayed figure with glazed over eyes with violent tendencies and considerably enhanced strength (nearer the end of the infection, you are not able to comprehend your own strength as your body takes on a new form - this can never be predicted when it comes to restraining a person since there is the potential to break free of them the closer to the final form they get). as far as is aware, there is no proper cure and you retain all awareness up until the point you turn - your brain is attacked last for a reason - whilst you can’t do anything about what is happening to you, leaving you terrified up until you ‘die’ (F U N !!!),

(the important thing to remember about this infection is that it’s not killing you, it’s slowly transforming your body internally and externally into something else. the whole infection is basically preparing you for the resulting form you will take, which is why you don’t drop dead. it’s ensuring your survival in your zombie like state by the end by adjusting your whole physiology, which will explain a lot of future symptoms as well)

i feel like i’ve been inspired by multiple sources due to the presentation of the infection and the fact that the main transference is water and water based substances like saliva. and although the infection from beginning to end takes about 3-4 weeks, it is dependent on physiology and age. someone who has a stronger immune system would take longer, whilst those who have weaker ones or are considerably young are more prone to a faster and perhaps more vicious strain of the infection. however, it also doesn’t help when people are in their teens which can be a confusing and emotional time, so here the infection would play absolute havoc in them.

like, for example, i use it in my Thing AUs to see how it manifests and how the characters would act in these situations. this is exactly what i fling at Dad Mac and either the tiny or teen bros, since there’s a clear difference when the bros reach their teens to a degree. Mac would be able to handle it better, though i feel like he doesn’t have the greatest immune system and it would still be just as agonising in the later stages. the poor tiny kids would have a hell of a bad time because they are so vulnerable to infection at that age and with the teens, their bodies are going through an emotional rollercoaster especially as they reach puberty.

it’s also important to remember since the infection gets more aggressive later on that there is the potential to infect and hurt others, especially when stage 3 hits. in my AUs this has resulted in the bros and Mac having to be quarantined and even restrained. this really sucks because all of them need that comfort in some way but for other people’s safety this has to happen. they can’t see and end up in a lot of pain and they just want to know if the others are alright or that they’re nearby for the comfort. it especially hurts because up until the point of turning, there is always a sense of awareness of what is happening but no way to stop it as any semblance of them as a person becomes lost amidst all the pain and loss of vision. it’s a very isolating infection for the person involved.

i’ve almost finished a document outlining all of this but i’m always happy to rant and ramble about this hyperfixation in particular. especially since i want to outline a particular AU involving dad mac and the bros, whether tiny or teen, as well as involving them in the groundhog day AU i love to talk about with others like you and @gaysonlyocean!! in fact i ended up understanding more about how i want the infection to go because i applied it to this AU and it making a lot of sense as a result.

it’s also interesting adding that much more emotional angst as usual as well as inflicting physical pain, like i’ve always been morbidly fascinated by stuff like this but i’ve never really unleashed my knowledge with infodumps like these. so it weirdly makes me excited to hyperfixate on this. INFECTIOUS DISEASES, YEAH!!! especially coming up with your own ones and designing them how you see fit.

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