#………looking at this now i’m realizing how apt it is that i’m posting edits of this pose set

[mattodore]

feeding like a fever, sweet blood cherry wine

#river dipping #simblr #ts4 #ts4 edit #theodore doe #matthias evanoff #a burning house to live in #echthroi #FINALLY did something with these poses i made in oct. 😭 #i took these screenshots the night that anon said they missed them but didn’t edit them until like two days after and then i didn’t post it #but i’m posting it now ‼️ #this is such a fun pose... you can't really see it here but theo's squirming around in the second screenshot fdkjhnkjfn #it’s more noticeable in the other screenshots i took #......don't have much to say here i really just edited these for that anon dfkjhndkfjhkndfghknfg #ANON 🫵 this is for you #………looking at this now i’m realizing how apt it is that i’m posting edits of this pose set #like yeah this matches the general state of my blog atm for sure

[hellimagines]

It’s Not Your Fault -- JJ Maybank

Masterlist

Summary: For the past three weeks you’ve noticed your boyfriend beginning to pull away from you without any explanation or clear reason. After voicing your concerns to him, JJ breaks down and confesses to you about his delivery trips to the Cameron House. 

Warnings: angst, hurt with lots of comfort, male sexual assault, victim denial of sexual assault, grooming

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: It took me a while to post this, but after all the thought, emotion, and personal experience I poured into this, I’m finally satisfied enough to publish it. Please heed the warnings since I know this sort of content can be triggering for some. *Edit* The formatting and tagging got messed up, so I’m sorry if this doesn’t show in certain tags or if it shows up multipule times.

When JJ and Pope bounded down the bank to meet up with you, John B., and Kie at the HMS Pogue, you noticed JJ’s hair was messier than usual and his blue bandana was tied snuggly around his neck. His grin was dirty, cocky, and full of more tongue than teeth as he made his way onto the boat alongside Pope. The blond fell into the seat beside you, carelessly throwing his arm over your shoulders, yet keeping it rested on the edge of the boat so only his fingertips were brushing your exposed collarbone. Instantly, an unfamiliar smell hit you, causing you to crinkle your nose in confusion and disgust; instead of the familiar smell of weed, dirt, ocean spray, and JJ’s cheap cologne, you were met with an overwhelming citrus and floral scent. As you tilted your head up to get a better look at JJ, you realized that the corner of his lip was turned up just the slightest, an indicator that JJ’s grin was really just a mask. You nudged your shoulder against him, breaking him out of whatever manic-trance he was starting to slip into. The dirty grin dropped as he looked down at you and was replaced with a soft smile once he saw your scrunched up face. The hand dangling over your shoulder moved up to run calloused knuckles over your cheekbone, while something sad crept into JJ’s blue eyes.

“Kooks give you boys any trouble?” you questioned, speaking to both JJ and Pope yet keeping your eyes locked with the boy beside you. 

Pope shook his head, “Nah, not this time. It’s too early for their rich-asses to be awake, let alone stirring for trouble.” You looked over at Pope as he spoke, cataloging how he looked just as he did when the two boys left this morning. He also wasn’t paying any special attention to JJ as he typically did whenever he was trying to keep one of JJ’s secrets from the others.

“Yeah, they don’t know what it’s like to try and get all your work done before noon during the summers,” JJ scoffed before giving a piece of your hair a playful tug. You scowled and swatted at his hand, which only made JJ laugh.

“Well,” John B. began as he steered the boat away from the bank, “now that we’re all free for the rest of the day, let’s get this boat on the road.”

--

As soon as John B. had found a deep, calm patch of water to settle the HMS, he was kicking off his shoes and diving in head-first. Typically, JJ would’ve already been on the back of the boat ready to flip into the water, but today he had remained in his spot beside you as Kie and Pope followed JB. The Pogues didn’t pay you two any mind as they splashed around with one another, swimming a few feet away from the boat to give you and JJ some space. JJ’s finger twirled around a stray strand of your hair absentmindedly, while his gaze rested unfocused on a spot in front of him.

“Hey,” you hummed, giving him another nudge. His blue eyes blinked hastily at the movement, jerking to look down at you. “What happened this morning?”

“What makes you think something happened?” he asked defensively as his body stiffened and his finger ceased its movement. Your eyebrows furrowed but you didn’t comment on the sudden hostility, realizing that you had accidentally backed him into a corner. 

“You just don’t seem like you’re completely here, that’s all. You were okay when you left this morning, even though it was the crackass of dawn, and I just want to make sure that Topper didn’t fuck around with you or anything,” you said gently, shifting in your spot so you could place your head on top of the arm that JJ still had resting on the edge of the boat. Your (e/c) eyes looked into JJ’s blue ones, watching as a multitude of different emotions flashed in his eyes and a small frown slipped onto his face. 

He ran his thumb across the bottom of your jaw, offering you a pensive look as he did so. “Yeah, I’m okay, I just…” he sighed deeply, “just had a difficult delivery today, that’s all. I promise I wasn’t jumped by a Kook or anything like that. You don’t have to worry ‘bout me, baby.” He gave you a pained smile and cupped your jaw. “You know I love you, right? And that I would never do anything to hurt you?”

You were taken back by his question, pulling away slightly so you could stare at him in confusion. “Of course, and I love you, too. What brought that up?”

“Nothing,” JJ shrugged, trying to act nonchalant despite the flash of guilt he was unable to hide. “I just wanted to make sure you knew how much I love you.” He paused for a while, staring down at you while cupping your face in both of his hands. His thumbs rested over your cheekbones and his pinkies laid just below your ears while he looked down at you. His eyes were searching for something, you could tell by the way they flicked across your features, but you couldn’t tell what he was hoping to find. “I’m sore from this morning, think I’m gonna stay on the boat for a while. Stay with me?” he asked with a pout before pushing your cheeks together to force your lips into an amusing pucker. 

You couldn’t help but giggle at his antics while nodding your head, unable to say anything as he squished your cheeks some more. JJ’s smile brightened at your muffled giggles as you looked up at him adoringly. He continued to pull your cheeks in different directions, and you eventually had to reach out and tickle beneath his arms to get him to let you go. Both of you were laughing loudly at this point as JJ retaliated by pinching your sides and pulling you closer to him, but an unexpected ripple against the boat caused you to lose your balance. JJ used his body to soften your fall as the two of you toppled to the deck floor, proceeding to laugh even as JJ let out an exaggerated oomph at the impact. The melancholy from earlier was all but forgotten as you were cradled against his chest, continuing to tickle and wrestle one another on top of the boat.

--

Over the next three weeks JJ had grown jumpier, but he seemed more skittish around you than anyone else. He had taken on more deliveries with Pope than expected, now doing 4-5 deliveries a week rather than the typical 2 or 3. His cash flow had increased by nearly $300 a week and you couldn’t deny that the flowers and pastries JJ had started to bring you were nice. However, the materialistic increase couldn’t hide the emotional and intimate decrease you had felt from your boyfriend recently. In the year that you and JJ had been dating, and even in the years of friendship beforehand, he had always valued actions over gifts. He would even sometimes prefer talking about what he was feeling rather than handing you something that had cost money. So, as JJ’s touches against your skin and words whispered into your ear became non-existent and his gift-giving became unmanageable, you knew something was going on: something he clearly didn’t want to talk to you about.

After not hearing from JJ in two days and knowing he wouldn’t be opening up to you anytime soon, you made your way over to Pope’s place in order to hopefully get some answers. Mr. Hayward was the one to open the door when you knocked, offering you a smile as you gave him one of your own. “Hey there, Mr. Hayward, I really like your shirt.”

He looked down at his shirt in confusion before huffing a laugh. “Thank you, (Y/N), it’s date night,” he grinned, tugging at the cotton fabric of his blue button-up. You heard the distinct sound of heels clicking against the floor before Mrs. Hayward rounded the corner. She jumped slightly when she saw you, not expecting to see anyone at the door, and then she smiled with a soft laugh. 

“Hi, (Y/N)! How are you, sweetheart?” she asked, coming to stand beside the door as Mr. Hayward went to grab the car keys.

“I’m doing okay, just came by to see if Pope needed any help with his summer homework. I know his AP classes were stressing him out a bit, so I offered to go over one of his essays with him. How about you? Your dress is really pretty, by the way.” 

Mrs. Hayward smiled at your compliment, giving her dark-red dress a bashful glance. “It’s date night, and I’ve been waiting to pop this baby out of the closet for months,” she chuckled, her bashful smile now becoming one of pride. “Pope is right upstairs in his room and I’m sure he’ll be really happy with the help.” You nodded with a smile and headed up to Pope’s room after waving goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Hayward. 

“Pope! Your mom let me in!” you shouted up the stairs as a warning before walking into your best friend’s room. Pope lifted his head from his desk at your entrance and gave you a gleeful grin. “I promise I’ll help you with your essay, but first I need your help with something,” you stated when you saw him beginning to reach for his essay. 

“Yeah, ‘course. What’s going on?” 

You took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of his bed. “It’s about JJ, but you can’t tell him I said anything.” Pope nodded and gave you his apt attention. “Ever since his delivery with you a few weeks ago, he’s been acting a little weird. I don’t know if anyone else has noticed it, but I have and I’m worried. He’s been wearing his bandana more, he almost never takes his shirt off for swimming or anything else, he doesn’t talk to me anymore, doesn’t touch me, but he’s been spending money on me. I know it sounds like unimportant tiny things, but to JJ they’re not. I’m really worried, Pope, and I was wondering if you knew if something was going on?”

“Nu-uh, he hasn’t said anything to me,” Pope frowned. “But I know he’s been taking longer with his deliveries than he used to, yet he’s making more cash. Do you think he’s worn out?” You couldn’t help but scoff at Pope’s words and shake your head. “What do you think it is?”

“I have no idea and that’s the problem. It’s not his dad and I can’t imagine him being overworked with the amount of energy he has. I don’t know what to do or how to help him and it scares me.”

Pope fell silent for a while, staring down at the ground with a pensive expression. “Listen,” he began with a sigh, “I know this isn’t something you want to hear or think of, and I don’t even believe it myself. But… but maybe he’s been seeing-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Pope Hayward. Don’t you dare,” you seethed, eyeing him with a dangerous look. “He wouldn’t do that, he’s not-”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Pope chanted and held up his hands. “Why don’t you go talk to him? You’ve always been the best out of anyone when it comes to getting JJ to open up.” 

You mulled over Pope’s words for a few moments, before giving a reluctant nod. “Sounds like my only option at this point; I just need to get him alone with me for more than five minutes,” you grumbled bitterly. “Anyway, now that we’ve covered the I-miss-my-boyfriend unit, let’s go over your essay, yeah?”

--

The next day was JJ’s day off and more than likely one of the only times you’d be able to sit down and talk with him. It was almost 6:30 in the morning when you arrived at John B’s place and you smiled softly when you saw him and JJ in the ocean. You left your shoes by The Chateau before heading down to the shoreline, waving to the two of them once they spotted you. JB waved his hand wildly in an attempt to get you in the water, but you simply shook your head and plopped down on the sand, waiting patiently for the two boys to finish their morning surf. While you waited, you laid down in the sand as the rising sun moved over you, enjoying the calm atmosphere and playful shouts of your boyfriend and best friend in the ocean. Water lapped at your feet and brought the occasional seashell to knock against your ankle, and your toes dug into the wet sand each time the water pulled away. When you felt the wind gently hit your bare legs and the waves began to slow down, you knew the boys would be making their way back to shore in the next few minutes. 

Eventually, the sound of feet splashing in the water drew closer and the anxiety in your gut began to grow as JJ and John B made their way back onto dry land. A shadow loomed over you, blocking the sun from hitting your face and causing you to squint open an eye to see who it was. JJ looked down at you with a smile, water dripping from his hair onto your exposed stomach. He carefully set his board to the side, giving John B a mindless wave as the other boy made his way back to The Chateau, before lowering himself down to you. His head rested on your chest, his arms wrapped around your waist, and his legs shifted in the sand to wrap around your own. He was wet and smelt like saltwater and you could feel a piece of slimy seaweed tangled around his calf, but you buried your fingers in his messy hair and ran your hand over his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer to you. This was the closest you’d been to him in weeks and you had been terrified about forgetting the way his skin felt against yours; but as his hands gripped your waist and his lips rested against your collarbone and your nails scratched at his scalp and your fingers massaged his sore shoulders, everything felt okay. But, regardless of how right things felt again or how comfortable you were, you couldn’t just forget about the past three weeks knowing that it would all start again tomorrow. 

“Hey,” you whispered, tapping JJ’s shoulder blade. He hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t move a muscle. “I want to talk to you-” JJ stiffened against you, his grip tightening subconsciously, “-about the past few weeks. I know something’s been bothering you and I thought giving you space would help you work through it, but it hasn’t. You’ve only pulled away even more.” 

JJ remained stiff but his grip relaxed and he released a shaky breath. “I know.”

“Can you tell me what’s going on? Please? I love all the little treats, flowers, and gifts, but I miss you, JJ-- I miss this.” You tenderly ran your nails down his side and over his hip for emphasis. “I miss holding you and being held by you. I miss playing with your hair and rubbing your shoulders. I miss talking with you in the morning while floating on our boards or laying on the HMS Pogue. I miss finding seashells and comparing them to one another. I miss my boyfriend.” 

JJ inhaled sharply before curling against you and holding you tight, his face now buried in your chest in a desperate attempt to conceal his tears. His body shook and his muscles tensed as he fought to hold back a sob, and his hold on you was nearing painful. Your heart rate sped up as worry and anxiety took over, and you had to fight against JJ’s grip in order to sit up and pull him with you. Instantly he was digging the palm of his hands into his eyes and biting down on his bottom lip, with harsh and jagged breaths escaping from his nose too quickly. 

“Baby, stop it, you gotta let go,” you urged, tugging his lip from between his teeth to avoid it splitting (as it often had before whenever JJ tried not to cry). You forced yourself to regulate your racing heart before grabbing one of JJ’s hands and placing it over your chest. “I’m right here, you’re okay, you can cry, babe. I know it’s hard but it’s just me, I’m not going anywhere.”

JJ’s fingers curled against your skin, feeling your heart beat steadily against his palm. He dropped his other hand from his eye and blinked away the stars and black spots, but he kept his gaze on the spot where your knees touched. Tears fell freely from his eyes now, curving over his nose and getting caught between his lips. He let out a few choked sobs and harsh sniffles for a few minutes before slowly pulling his hand away from your chest once he calmed down. Instead of pulling completely away as you expected him to do, JJ placed his hand on your thigh and rubbed his thumb in mindless circles.

“I miss you too, princess, I miss you so fucking much. I’m sorry for pulling away and for not talking to you, but I didn’t… I don’t know how to talk about what’s going on. I want to tell you, I’ve wanted to since it started but…” JJ trailed off with an uneven sigh and shook his head. “I just need to get over it. It’s not that big of a deal, it happens to all sorts of people, I need to stop being a little bitch about it,” he seethed before slamming his fist into the sand beside him. 

You placed your hand on top of the one he had on your thigh and squeezed his wrist. “No, you don’t. You’re not a little bitch for caring about something and for being hurt. You can tell me, you know that I’m not going to judge you. Whatever is going on is hurting you and you don’t deserve to be hurt more than you already have been.”

“I don’t want you to break up with me. I don’t want to lose you,” JJ confessed in a broken voice. He looked up at you and you could finally see the anguish and guilt clouding his eyes as he continued to cry. “But I need to tell you, I can’t keep it inside anymore. So… so if you do want to break up, I understand,” he choked before furiously wiping at his eyes.

Your heart stuttered at the implication causing you to take a deep breath. “Just be honest, that’s all I ask. You don’t have to hide anything or alter the truth, okay?” JJ gave a small nod and squeezed your thigh.

“It first happened three weeks ago, when I was helping Pope with an early morning delivery. I was doing my last run to the Cameron’s, and usually I drop them off with Wheezie since she’s the only one ever awake. But that morning she was at a friend’s house or something, I guess, and instead, it was Rose who was there to grab the groceries. She uh, she had me follow her inside to the kitchen and started showing me where to put stuff away. And in my head, ya know, I’m thinkin’, ‘lady, this isn’t part of my job description’, but I don’t say anything because I need the cash. So I’m putting away her groceries and she’s lingering and saying these things about how strong I am and how she’s so glad I chose to help her, but I don’t think anything of it. But when I reach up to put away the cereal, my tank top rides up and she comes up behind me and puts her hands on my waist. I jump and almost knock down the entire cupboard, and I try to push her away but she just spins me around like it’s nothing. Like I’m nothing. I’m telling her to stop, that I’ve got a girl, that I’m not interested, all this shit, but she doesn’t listen. She just keeps touching me, mainly my stomach and arms, and saying how she’s just appreciating ‘a hard-working young man’. I wanted to push her away and get the hell out of there, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t fucking move. If I did push her away then that shit would’ve been turned on me so fast and I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t breathe and all I kept thinking about was you and how I wanted her to stop. After she had her fill of feeling me up, she kissed my neck and handed me a hundred-dollar tip. Like… like I was her own personal whore or somethin’. I ran out of there so damn fast, and I tried rubbing off the lipstick but it was bright fucking red, so I had to wear my bandana around my neck all day. That morning wasn’t the only time, either, she’s been requesting me for every delivery. I wanted to say something, I wanted to tell you but I… I was scared. I’m a guy, this shit doesn’t happen to guys. I should’ve pushed her away, I should’ve fought back, I should’ve done more but instead, I just fucking stood there. I’ve been cheating on you because I was too much of a pussy to push her away.”

“You haven’t been cheating on me,” you said instantly, letting the impact of JJ’s story wash over you. His head snapped up and his brows furrowed as he looked at you. He opened his mouth to argue, but you shook your head. “You told her to stop. She’s in her thirties and you’re sixteen. She holds power and authority over you, and if you physically pushed her away things would have gotten much worse. You didn’t ask for her to touch you or kiss you or give you more money than you were owed. Rose sexually assaulted you, and that isn’t your fault, JJ. None of what happened is your fault.” Your voice was gentle but your words were firm and you held onto JJ’s hand as you spoke. 

“I did cheat on you, I let another woman-”

You interrupted him, “You didn’t let her do anything. She forced herself onto you and put you in a position where she knew you wouldn’t be able to fight back or deny her. You were forced into being complacent, and that’s not your fault. You’re right, this does happen all the time, but just because you’re a guy that doesn’t make it unimportant or invalid. You didn’t cheat on me, and I’m not breaking up with you. I’m going to help you work through this.”

JJ shook his head violently and tore his hand from your grasp. He stood up on weak legs and paced beside you, tugging harshly at his hair. “No, no, I wasn’t sexually assaulted. I’m strong, I’m a guy, I could’ve pushed her away easily, but I didn’t. I didn’t fight back and I didn’t tell you for three weeks! You shouldn’t be holding my hand, you should be screaming at me and hitting me and breaking up with me!” he ranted in hysterics, continuing to pace and tug at his hair.

Your heart ached at your boyfriend’s words and you had to blink away your own tears. You moved yourself to your knees before reaching out and grabbing ahold of JJ’s ankle, forcing him to stop moving and look down at you. “What if it was me?”

“What? What if what was you?” 

“What if I had helped Pope with the deliveries and Ward Cameron touched me while I was putting away his groceries? What if he had me backed against a counter and was touching my waist and kissing my neck? What if I begged him to stop, told him I wasn’t interested, told him I had a boyfriend, and told him no multiple times? What if he didn’t listen to me and kept touching me, even though I told him no? Everyone on this island knows I can fight just as hard, if not harder, than any man. But what if I couldn’t fight back? What if I punched him and lost everything? Mr. Hayward could lose his business, Pope could lose his scholarship, and I could get thrown in jail; because the Cameron’s have money and they have power and I don’t. So, what if I was touched by an older man repeatedly, against my will, even after I begged him to stop? Would it have been my fault? Would I be weak because it happened? Would you break up with me?” 

You looked up at JJ and his breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening in understanding. His knees buckled and you were quick to grab ahold of his waist and carefully help him back to the ground. Once he was safely seated, he reached out and grabbed your hands, pulling you closer to him until you were straddling his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist and he tucked his head into your neck, holding you close to him. You could feel his body shaking despite the warm weather and his silent tears falling against your throat, but you remained silent as he worked through what you had said. You dutifully ran your hands through his hair, combing out the tangles with your fingers and giving soothing scratches against his scalp. JJ clung to you in silence for the next hour, and you had almost fallen asleep when you felt his arms loosen and his hands move to your waist. You pulled back to look down at him and saw him already looking up at you with red eyes and puffy cheeks. The anguish and guilt that had been swimming in his blue eyes the past few weeks no longer seemed to overtake the love and adoration they usually held when JJ looked at you. You cupped his cheeks between your hands and kissed him softly, smiling when you felt his thumbs rub your sides in appreciation.

“I love you,” JJ murmured against your lips before pulling back.

You kissed his forehead lovingly, “I love you too, babe. We’ll work through this, you’re not on your own anymore. I’ve got you, and I’ll make sure Rose Cameron doesn’t lay a hand on you again.”

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #outerbanks #outerbanks imagine #outerbanks x reader #outer banks #obx

[stevenuniversallyreviews]

Episode 133: Dewey Wins

“But...I’m hurt.”

I started reviewing the Week of Sardonyx in late 2017. It was slow going thanks to grad school and student teaching and licensing tests and my job (boy do I not miss those days), but I’d clawed my way through Cry for Help in October and Keystone Motel on the first Sunday of November. In those reviews, I wrote at length about how this was the most devastating arc of the series, a massive argument spanning multiple episodes with no easy answers.

Then the Friday after my Keystone Motel post was uploaded, Cartoon Network dropped the Breakup Arc on us all at once, and I had to make some edits.

There’s no official name for the span of episodes between Dewey Wins and Kevin Party, but considering it features not one but two breakups, with only one reconciliation by the end, I think my nickname is apt. Just under a fifth of Season 5 is devoted to six consecutive episodes designed to make us miserable, and on top of being an outstanding sequel to the Week of Sardonyx, it’s the best precursor we’ve got to adolescent trials of Steven Universe Future. 

The Week of Sardonyx is strengthened by numerous previous episodes where Pearl does bad things without consequence, making it something of a shock when her actions are finally addressed. In a similar way, we’ve been taught from Log Date 7 15 2 and Kindergarten Kid and The New Crystal Gems that emotionally draining arcs are followed by cooldown episodes, and Dewey Wins sounds like the name of a fun adventure with our goofy mayor. There’s no situation where the Breakup Arc would be a pleasant affair, but the pattern adds an extra layer of angst as our anticipated relief period ends up more stressful than the arc we needed relief from.

But not every big arc gets a cooldown. Our very first, ending with Jailbreak, is followed by one of the Breakup Arc’s major prequels: Full Disclosure, an episode about missed phone calls and the importance of keeping friends in the loop regarding space adventures. The ghosted party is flipped, as Connie now refuses to talk to Steven, and watching his struggle gives an even greater appreciation for Connie’s own turmoil (not just from Full Disclosure, but Steven’s reckless self-sacrifice).

We know something’s wrong from the moment we see her, in a way that’s different from Greg and the Gems’ wide-eyed concern. Her discomfort manifests just as it did in Mindful Education: a downcast expression and curt demeanor made more apparent by Steven’s cheery chattiness. But because she’s the only one of them that has truly taken the lessons of that episode to heart, she soon expresses her feelings outright (after a brutal “Of course I’m happy to see you”—Grace Rolek only needs one scene to be the episode’s MVP). Her complaints are all valid: this is not the first time she’s been left on Earth, and her sense that Steven isn’t taking her seriously is confirmed when he can’t even take her seriously within the conversation. She’s as direct as she can be, but when Steven refuses to acknowledge her pain, her anger takes over and she shuts him out. Lion’s side-eye is icing on the cake.

My biggest issue with Dewey Wins, however, is Steven. I’m torn, because it’s easy to justify his behavior throughout the episode as a result of recent trauma and the relief at surviving such a harrowing experience (and, later, the same sleeplessness that made him snap in Rose’s Room and Warp Tour). It makes sense that his martyr complex is intensified by his experience with Lars, that he falls back on helping others at the cost of his own well-being on instinct. But his flippant dismissal of Connie’s emotions still feels off, especially because it comes with a heretofore unseen swagger about his own heroism. She pours her heart out, making it clear that she wants to keep being Jam Buds but he’s making it really difficult, but every word goes right over his head. This is a version of Steven that somehow doesn’t get that “hurt” can refer to emotions instead of physical damage.

Throughout the episode, but particularly in this opening scene, Steven feels exaggerated for the sake of honing Connie’s argument. Perhaps it’s necessary, considering how easy it is in first viewing to see his sacrifice as noble rather than selfish; we need to see a more extreme version of his behavior to understand that going it alone was a bad move, or else Connie’s arguments seem small against the scale of the stakes. It’s further complicated by the fact that Steven’s sacrifice was noble, even if it was selfish at the same time. This isn’t a case where Steven is fully right or fully wrong, so it’s bound to be confusing to hear that his traditionally heroic move wasn’t as great as he (or we) first thought.

So yeah, I get why Steven is acting this way for the sake of the show. And, again, I can find reasons to explain his sudden emotional idiocy, making it leagues better than a true Annoying Steven episode. But it still comes across as clumsy to me; I can see the wheels turning to move the plot along in a way that’s normally hidden better on this show. His final monologue where he realizes that Connie felt the way he feels about Dewey abandoning the race feels like something from another show, a show that’s way more on-the-nose than Steven Universe is at its best. It was probably the right move, because as much as I can’t stand it when media is patronizing to young audiences, this lesson is complex enough that it’s worth a little clunkiness to ensure that the message gets through to smaller viewers. But compared to the elegance of our recent space adventure, Dewey Wins sacrifices polish for clarity when we usually get both.

But enough about what doesn’t work for me, because so much of this episode works for me. Even if his behavior feels forced, Steven provides seamless in-universe exposition recapping his space adventure. His follow-up conversation with Sadie has the same kind of douchey detachment that he shows Connie, but in a way that’s far more consistent with his character: dismissing Connie’s emotions is out of left field for him, but it makes plenty of sense that he’d see Lars as “okay” despite being trapped in space, considering the alternative was a very real death. And, of course, there’s the matter of the episode’s actual hero.

Nanefua Pizza has been my everything since Beach Party, and it’s thrilling to see her gain more prominence in the tail end of the series. Her beef with Mayor Dewey has been running since Political Power, the Dewey episode that established all the flaws that drive him out of office in Dewey Wins. Then, she responded by rallying rioters to tip over his truck, but now she takes a more civic-minded approach to effect real change. Still, she’s driven by the same anger at Dewey, and can only become a true force for good when she gains a new appreciation for his struggles.

While the correlation between Dewey and Steven is obvious well before Steven straight-up says there’s a correlation (a moment that’s made easier to swallow when Dewey points out he has no context for Steven’s friend troubles), the general conflict between Nanefua and Bill(iam) is a more fascinating study on blame. At first, both candidates believe in the power of blame, with Nanefua laying all the city’s troubles on Dewey’s inaction and Dewey arguing that taking the heat is his greatest strength: in his mind, there’s not much he can actually do about the cosmic misfortunes that befall Beach City, but giving its citizens somebody to blame gives them a sense of control that’s necessary in a chaotic world. And both of these viewpoints can be found in Steven’s self-image.

Steven, like Nanefua, is quick to lay blame when anything goes wrong. But Steven, like Dewey, sees the absorption of blame as a virtue. So he loops between those two positions, looking for someone to blame at the drop of a hat and only finding himself. The ensuing guilt make him want to fix the problems of others to atone, rather than focus on the underlying cause of his own issues, and if that sounds familiar it’s because Steven Universe Future is entirely about how important it is to break this loop.

But obsessing over fixing things is also how Pearl tries to solve her argument with Garnet in the Week of Sardonyx: she focuses on finding Peridot instead of doing anything about her own actions until she has no choice but to talk things out. And, as I said back in my Friend Ship post, it evokes something Pearl once said about humans (which it turns out applies to Gems): 

“They want to blame all the world's problems on some single enemy they can fight, instead of a complex network of interrelated forces beyond anyone's control.”

When was this said? In Keep Beach City Weird, in regards to Ronaldo. The same Ronaldo who poured gas on the fire in Full Disclosure by presenting the idea that heroes are aloof and keep their friends at a distance. So in a way, the Breakup Arc can be chalked up to ignoring the good Ronaldo lesson but taking the bad Ronaldo lesson to heart. But more on him in Gemcation.

Steven’s turmoil lends a somber edge to Nanefua’s powerful change of heart, where she rejects her past choice to blame Dewey. She apologizes for her own part in pointing fingers, because blame is a lousy substitute for getting things done, and forgives him for not being perfect. She pitches the act of helping as a community effort, rather than something that any one person must do alone; she remembers that the lyrics are “we can be strong in the real way.” She’s giving Steven all of the answers well before Steven Universe Future shows how much his guilt loop will continue to plague him, but he isn’t ready to listen yet, and leaves the debate dejected instead of empowered. (Considering Jenny’s appeal to taking breaks during trying times in Joy Ride, and an adventure with Kiki about not spreading yourself too thin on behalf of others in Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service, this is the third time a Pizza woman’s fantastic advice has gone ignored by our hero.)

Even Dewey seems better off than Steven, accepting defeat by acknowledging that Nanefua would make a better mayor. And he’s right! She sets up actual services to account for alien threats, services that end up changing the universe in a way Dewey’s brand of keeping the peace never could. He may need a new job (Sadie foreshadows both his fate and her own imminent career change in one fell swoop), but there’s a sense of calm as he passes the torch after a full episode of Joel Hodgson’s hammy anxiety.

I appreciate that Dewey is allowed some points in his favor even as he flubs his way out of office. Yes, he should be more thoughtful and attentive: his vow to find a new donut shop kid when presented with news that Lars is trapped in space is even broader than Steven’s reaction to Connie’s pain, but the mayor has always ridiculous so I don’t mind at all. Yes, he should try and do something to address the concerns of his citizens beyond saying everything will be fine. But it’s not lost on the show that it isn’t easy running a town that’s a lightning rod for alien encounters, so Dewey remains sympathetic even if his ineptitude must be addressed. After all, if he’s gonna stand in for Steven in a metaphor that’s clear enough to be monologued about, it’s important to point out that it’s okay when you fail against impossible odds. Neither Dewey nor Steven can do everything on their own, no matter how much power they wield.

Steven might skip a few crucial lessons of Dewey Wins, but he at least learns one. Perhaps in an earlier season, that would be enough to mend fences with Connie. But time makes you bolder, children get older, and she’s getting older too. She’s been more than patient with being treated like an afterthought, so the moment she’s had enough is bound to be a big one. Thus, we end with a cliffhanger, one that pulls Steven into the same landslide that’s surely consuming the rest of the town after his kidnapping. The Barrigas are missing a son, and Sadie’s missing a romantic friend. Bill Dewey is no longer Mayor Dewey, and Nanefua has a whole new set of obstacles to face. Greg and the Gems have their son back, but his kidnapping was traumatic for them as well, and Connie gets that trauma on top of her stated complaints. And Steven had learned two lessons instead of one: it’s important to take your friends seriously, and timing is everything.

It’s gonna be a rough week.

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

I do like it, really. But Steven’s behavior takes it down a few notches, regardless of my ability to find ways to explain it. Great episodes don’t require the audience to seek ways to justify a character’s weird behavior. There’s more good than bad here, but I’d be lying if I said I loved Dewey Wins.

Top Twenty-Five

Steven and the Stevens

Hit the Diamond

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

Last One Out of Beach City

The Return

Jailbreak

The Answer

Mindful Education

Sworn to the Sword

Rose’s Scabbard

Earthlings

Mr. Greg

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Beach City Drift

Winter Forecast

Bismuth

Steven’s Dream

When It Rains

The Good Lars

Lars’s Head

Catch and Release

Chille Tid

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

Warp Tour

The Test

Future Vision

On the Run

Maximum Capacity

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

Keeping It Together

We Need to Talk

Cry for Help

Keystone Motel

Back to the Barn

Steven’s Birthday

It Could’ve Been Great

Message Received

Log Date 7 15 2

Same Old World

The New Lars

Monster Reunion

Alone at Sea

Crack the Whip

Beta

Back to the Moon

Kindergarten Kid

Buddy’s Book

Gem Harvest

Three Gems and a Baby

That Will Be All

The New Crystal Gems

Storm in the Room

Room for Ruby

Lion 4: Alternate Ending

Doug Out

Are You My Dad?

I Am My Mom

Stuck Together

The Trial

Off Colors

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Reformed

Rising Tides, Crashing Tides

Onion Friend

Historical Friction

Friend Ship

Nightmare Hospital

Too Far

Barn Mates

Steven Floats

Drop Beat Dad

Too Short to Ride

Restaurant Wars

Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service

Greg the Babysitter

Gem Hunt

Steven vs. Amethyst

Bubbled

Adventures in Light Distortion

Gem Heist

The Zoo

Rocknaldo

Dewey Wins

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

Super Watermelon Island

Gem Drill

Know Your Fusion

Future Boy Zoltron

Tiger Philanthropist

No Thanks!

     6. Horror Club      5. Fusion Cuisine      4. House Guest      3. Onion Gang      2. Sadie’s Song      1. Island Adventure

(No official promo art for most of the Breakup Arc, given the way they were released, but I can’t be too mad when we get brilliance like this from ajora.)

#dewey wins #steven universe #su #steven universally #review

[gerec]

Fantasy AU - Charles/Jean

So I started a number of fics that I never finished in time for Rare Pairs Fest, which I’m sort of bummed about because I liked the prompts a lot and the ideas that were starting to form; I just couldn’t quite find the motivation to get them to completion ugh. But I’ve decided to post what I have written of these stories so far, in the hopes that sending it out into wide world might get the Muse excited about picking them up again lol.

Pairing: Jean/Charles, implied Erik/Charles, implied Erik/Raven Warning: Non graphic (non sexual) violence towards an underage character 

@lachatblanche‘s Prompt: Charles and Jean have always had a very special relationship, ever since she was young. No matter what happened or who passed in and out of their lives, that bond has always remained strong and unbroken.

Nothing has ever come between them. And, if Jean has her way, nothing ever will ...

Note: The tenses are a little wonky here but it would all get cleaned up in a final edit if I wrote more. :D

-----------------------

Green, they say, is a fitting choice for a bride, representing harmony, and renewal, and the freshness of Spring.

Blue, they say, is an apt pick for the soon-to-be-Queen, to rule at the King’s side bathed in his colors. 

Instead it’s the color red that Jean chooses for this long awaited day, the hue of blood, and of fire, and the sacrifices made along the way.

x

Jean understood that she had a different life once, with a mother and father who loved her, and who did their best to dote on their only daughter. Theirs was a poor but relatively happy existence, in a mud-caked village with a long forgotten name. She could still recall vague snippets of their life together on that farm; her father tending the sheep while her mother worked the loom, and days spent growing herbs and tomatoes in their tiny garden.

And then one day, her powers came, and everything she’d ever known changed in an instant.

“Those are good memories, Jean,” Charles had told her once, after she woke up in tears, crying desperately for parents who were long gone and buried. “It’s alright to hold on to them, and leave the other ones behind.”

But she would never let herself forget, even if she could; the weird angle of her mother’s broken neck, her limp body thrown clear of their overturned cart. Her father’s tear stained face as he cried out to the heavens, calling Jean ‘a wretched witch’ for killing his beloved wife. The villagers’ mocking words as they dragged her eight year old self, kicking and screaming to the pyre, tying her to the stake.

Her father turning away without a word, as they set the wood beneath her ablaze.  

She had called out for him then, and also for God; for someone, please anyone, to save her from a horrific fate. Instead they all stood by and did nothing, too afraid to show a little girl either mercy or restraint. It was their hatred, and their terror that stoked the sleeping fire at her core, unleashing the devastation that would engulf everything in its wake.  

They found her alone and unharmed on top of the pyre, and the entire village around her reduced to nothing but ashes.

It was his face that she saw when she first opened her eyes, and his brilliant mind that reached out to welcome her in. He looked upon Jean with tender kindness and care, without the judgement of those who had known her all her young life. The relief she felt brought fresh tears to her eyes, for no one – not even her own parents – ever understood what she was, or loved her as he did without fear or reservation.

Don’t be afraid, Jean, he said in her head, as strong arms cradled her gently against his breastplate. I’ve got you now, darling girl, and I promise you’ll be safe. No one will ever hurt you again, I swear it.  

Please, she answered, and it was so easy talking this way, without the wasteful inaccuracy of the spoken word. Can I go with you, wherever you live? They don’t want me here…and my father…

Can’t hurt you anymore, he said, his inner voice rough with feeling, brimming with such hurt and anger for the evils of men. She knew that his name was Charles, and he was searching for more people like them, with special gifts that were unappreciated, and often misunderstood. I would have you stay with me as long as you wish, he whispered in her head. Be my family, Jean, and I’ll be there for you, always.

I’ll stay with you forever, Jean vowed, with every fiber of her being. I’ll always be by your side.

x

She finds him awake in his room late into the night, bottles tipped over on the table and strewn carelessly on the floor. He’s been crying, his eyes rimmed red and shot through with blood, body huddled in a ball on his four poster bed. Jean wants to weep too, seeing him suffer like this, watching him crumble under the weight of such utter betrayal.

It’s a relief that he doesn’t realize the truth of it; that it was three people and not two, that has hurt and deceived him.

“How could this have happened?” Charles asks, eyeing the bottle in his hand, speaking not to Jean but to the quiet of his half empty quarters. “Why didn’t I see it when it was right in front of me?”

Once, he would have seen clearly through Jean’s calm exterior, plucking the gnawing guilt from her thoughts as easily as ripe fruit from a tree. He would see both the conflict and the shame, and catch the barest hint of remorse, hidden behind a wall of steadfast determination. He would see the motive behind all of Jean’s lies and machinations, and know that she did it for him; to protect him from those who would do him the most harm.

“Shh,” Jean says instead, folding him tenderly into her arms, a reversal of roles to the many nights he held her close and chased away the bad dreams. “It wasn’t your fault, Charles. Never yours.”

“I just can’t believe—” He shudders as Jean rubs his back soothingly, resting his head in the crook of her neck. “My sister…and Erik…how could they, Jean? Why?”

His mind is a maelstrom of confusion and pain, his shields non-existent – safe in the presence of the only one left he can trust. There are others of course, like Hank and Ororo, and even the Summers brothers Alex and Scott; but none he loves as he’s always loved Jean, who shares both his vision for peace and his formidable power.      

“I have no answer for you,” she says, because she knows he doesn’t truly want one, no matter his words. “And certainly none that will make things right.” She strokes his hair from his forehead and kisses him gently, and lays them both carefully onto the bed. “But you still have me, Charles, and I swear to you – I’ll never leave you, not now. Not ever.”

He smiles, and brushes her cheek with his fingers, and does not stop when she takes his hand and presses it against her breast.

“You’re so very beautiful, my darling girl,” he murmurs, stroking her long auburn hair, eyes filled with an ocean of unearned grief and pain. “We mustn’t. It’s not right,” he adds, after Jean kisses him, slowly, gently, coaxing his mouth open as he lies helpless in her embrace.

But Charles is drunk, and Jean is a girl no longer, and everything that happens next is as inevitable as the sunrise.  

#gerec writes #charles/jean #fantasy au #historical au #the imagery spoke to me #of tiny baby!Jean tied to the stake #rare pairs #unfinished #ficlet

[thelastspeecher]

Superhero/villain AU - Baby Daddy Drama

It’s been a while since I’ve posted a ficlet!  I’ve been busy, haven’t had time to write up ficlets.  But I have a bit of a break right now, and since I won’t be posting the next chapter of Recoil until tomorrow (I decided I needed to edit it more), here’s some stuff I wrote up today.  I’ve danced around Tate’s role in the Superhero/villain AU, mostly because I couldn’t figure out the circumstances behind how he comes to be.  But I finally figured it out, so behold!  Tate McGucket’s origin story.

(Btw, I forgot to mention, but like in most of my nonsense, Fidds is trans in this)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

              “They’re down,” Stan said, walking into the living room. Ford looked up from his book.

              “Good.  That took a bit longer than usual.”

              “Eh.”  Stan joined Ford on the couch.  “Thanks for letting us chill at your place for a while.”

              “No problem.  May I ask why, though?”

              “Fidds had a baby today,” Stan said casually. Ford’s eyes widened.  “Angie went to go see him and the baby, but we figured that we’d wait a couple days before the girls met their new cousin.  They can be hell on wheels, after all.”  Ford chuckled.

              “That’s an apt descriptor of them, yes.”  Stan’s cellphone dinged.  He dug it out of his pocket.  “Is that an update from Angie?”

              “Yep.”  Stan grinned at his phone.  “And a picture.  Aw, that’s a cute kid.  Not as cute as the girls, y’know, but still.  Pretty damn-”  His phone chimed again.  Stan’s face went slack.

              “Stan?” Ford asked, after a few moments passed in silence.

              “Shit,” Stan whispered.  He looked up at Ford.  “Ford…”

              “Yes?”

              “You- uh- nine months ago, you and Fidds didn’t-” Stan rubbed his face.  Ford felt dread begin to build in his gut.  “You guys didn’t knock boots or something, did you?”

              “Wh- my sexual history is none of your concern,” Ford blustered, trying to mask his growing unease.  Stan pinched the bridge of his nose.

              “No, I think it is right now.  Fidds’ kid has twelve fingers.”  A heavy weight settled in Ford’s stomach.

              “Pardon?” he asked.  Stan silently handed him his phone.  Ford looked down at the messages Angie had sent.  The first was a picture of a newborn swaddled in a white blanket, with a large nose like Fiddleford’s and thick, dark brown hair.  Immediately after the picture was a text.

              “Tate here has twelve fingers…” Stan’s phone chimed and buzzed as another text arrived from Angie.  “Fidds won’t say who the other parent is, but I don’t need your mom’s power to figure it out.  You need to talk to Ford right away.”  Ford swallowed and returned Stan’s phone.

              “I didn’t even realize he was expecting.  He didn’t tell me.”

              “Why?  He told everyone else.”

              “I- when we-”  Ford looked away, feeling a flush beginning to creep onto his face.  “I was very…emotionally vulnerable that night. Maybe he was worried about how I’d react.”  Stan was silent.  “As for why he won’t tell anyone outright who helped to- to conceive-”

              “Seems pretty dumb, since it’s obvious,” Stan muttered.

              “I assume Lute is there?”

              “…Yeah.”

              “He probably wants to spare Lute’s feelings.” Ford looked at Stan again.  Stan rubbed his face.  “I mean…”

              “Okay, yeah, you and Lute used to date, which is…really awkward for all this, but Lute’s not an idiot, and Fidds knows that. Lute can figure it out.  Why the hell would he keep his mouth shut when it’s this obvious?”  A strange look crossed Stan’s face.  “…Ford.”

              “Yes?”

              “When did you and Lute break up?” Stan asked in a dangerous tone.

              “…Nine months ago.”

              “Son of a-”  Stan put his head in his hands.  “Please tell me that what I’m thinking is wrong.  Please tell me you didn’t rebound from my brother-in-law by sleeping with one of my other brothers-in-law.”

              “If I was good at lying, I would,” Ford said softly. Stan let out a loud groan. “Look-”

              “Okay, how soon after the breakup did you two sleep together?” Stan interrupted.  Ford was silent.  “Stanford.”

              “That night.”

              “That night?!”  Stan whipped his head up to stare at Ford.  “Holy fucking shit, really?  While Lute was crying over the breakup, sitting on my couch and eating my ice cream, you were banging his older brother?  Son of a bitch, Sixer, the McGuckets aren’t the only family with twiggy, big-nosed farm boys!”

              “I- Fiddleford was visiting, we were reminiscing about our college days, and-”  Ford looked down at his book, still open on his lap.  “Even though Lute and I parted on amicable terms, I was still emotionally vulnerable.  Fiddleford offered me comfort and one thing led to another and-”

              “You do realize he’s gonna kill you, right?” Stan asked flatly.  “The day you two broke up, you slept with his brother.  And you didn’t just sleep with his brother, you got his brother pregnant!”

              “I didn’t know about that last part!” Ford snapped, slamming his book shut.

              “That doesn’t make the rest of it hunky-dory!” Stan shot back.

              “You’re not exactly one to criticize me for who I sleep with!”

              “God fucking-”  Stan ran a hand through his hair, which was beginning to smoke.  “You are not gonna bring me and Angie into this!  We made a shitty decision, yeah, but it wasn’t half as shitty as yours!”

              “You were archnemeses!”

              “You slept with your ex-boyfriend’s older brother the day you broke up!” Stan thundered.  He shook his head.  “God, my three-year-old daughters can tell right from wrong, but I need to explain to you why what you did was bad?”

              “I just- I don’t hear any of this vitriol being sent Fiddleford’s direction,” Ford stammered.  He could feel himself running out of steam, guilt beginning to replace his rage.

              “Two things.  First, he’s not fucking here.  Second, he just had a baby.  I’ll wait for him to be out of the damn hospital before I yell at him.”

              “How considerate,” Ford muttered.  Stan’s eyes narrowed.

              “Don’t get cute with me.”  He jabbed a finger at Ford’s chest.  Ford winced.  Stan was worked up enough that his powers were emerging; the jab felt like it was from a red-hot fire poker.  “You’re the one that fucked up here.  You couldn’t keep it in your pants long enough for the dust to settle from your breakup.  You and Fidds.  Lute’s not gonna be happy about this.”

              “You’re not going to tell him, are you?” Ford asked. Stan scowled.

              “Hell no.  But it doesn’t matter.  Underneath that blustery, overprotective twink exterior, Lute’s just as smart as Angie and Fidds.  He’ll be able to figure it out.  And he’s gonna be hurt.”  Ford felt his chest ache.  “He’s gonna be hurt that the ex-boyfriend he loved so much and parted on such good terms with slept with his brother.  And he’s gonna be hurt that his brother – the one he’s stood up for his whole life – would sleep with his ex-boyfriend.”  Ford slumped against the couch.  “He’s gonna use that anger of his to hide how much this whole thing hurts him.  He was so damned excited to have a new nephew to spoil, and now he knows how that nephew was made.”  Stan looked away.  “Lute and I might have started off rough, but we’re good now.  I’m not gonna be on your side this time.”  Stan stood up.  “I’m gonna take the girls and head home.”

              “But you just got them to nap.”

              “I don’t wanna be anywhere near you when Lute comes to your door demanding answers,” Stan said.  His voice was devoid of emotion.  “I sure don’t want my kids around.”  Stan’s phone chimed again.  Stan looked down at it.  His face hardened.  “Yep.”

              “What?” Ford asked weakly.  Stan shoved his phone in his pocket.

              “Lute figured it out.  He’s on his way.”

              “How bad-”

              “Count yourself lucky that he needs Angie’s help to make tornadoes.”  Stan began to head towards the room his daughters were napping in.  “You might wanna invest in some scuba gear, though.”

----- 

              The door opened to reveal Fiddleford, dressed in baggy clothes, a towel tossed over one shoulder.  Fiddleford rubbed the bags under his eyes.

              “I was expectin’ you at some point,” he said tiredly. Ford swallowed.

              “May- may I come in?”

              “By all means.”  Fiddleford stood to the side, allowing Ford to enter.  Ford had visited Fiddleford’s home a few times.  Each time, it had been somehow both cluttered and clean; every single one of the many pieces of machinery tucked away on some shelf or in a drawer somewhere.  Now, though, it was a mess.  Empty boxes for various baby-related items lined the hallway leading to the door.  In the far-off living room, Ford could see baby clothes and toys scattered on the floor.

              “How- how are you doing?” Ford asked softly as he stepped inside.  Fiddleford closed the door behind him with a shaky laugh.

              “I’ve got no clue how Stan ‘n Angie managed to deal with two at once.”  A shadow fell over Fiddleford’s face.  “Then again, no one in the fam’ly was just pretendin’ to be nice when they helped out with Danny ‘n Daisy.”

              “What do you mean?”

              “My folks are here,” Fiddleford said in a low voice. Ford’s mouth went dry.  “They wanted to stop by fer a couple days to help. And…well…once word spread about Tate’s parentage…”  Fiddleford trailed off.  “They’re goin’ easy on me right now, ‘cause I’m still a bit vulnerable.  But once I’m back to normal, I wouldn’t be surprised if my whole garden up and died, or if a freak windstorm dinged up the house.” Fiddleford sighed.  “Honestly, I wish they’d be upfront about their frustration. It’d be better than this fake cheerfulness.”

              “This seems rather…harsh,” Ford ventured cautiously. Fiddleford slumped against the wall, rubbing his face.

              “I wonder if their reactions would be dif’rent if we weren’t a fam’ly of villains.  The ‘no snitches, no traitors’ code runs deep.  And I’ve betrayed Lute.”  Fiddleford’s voice broke.  “My own brother.”

              “How is he?” Ford asked.  Fiddleford shook his head.

              “If I knew, I’d tell ya.  Within about five minutes of seein’ Tate up close, he stormed out.  Haven’t seen him since.  He’s- Lute ‘n Angie are awful sim’lar.  They struggle to keep their emotions under wraps, ‘specially in the heat of the moment. I get the feelin’ Lute knows he wouldn’t be able to control his powers if he spent time with me or Tate.  He might be fine if I got a bit scratched up, but he wouldn’t want Tate to get caught in the crossfire.”

              “It doesn’t help that Lute tends to use anger to mask his more vulnerable emotions.”

              “No.  It doesn’t.” Fiddleford bit his lip.  Finally, he let out a long sigh.  “Well, no point in delayin’ it.  Come meet the lil Tater Tot.”  Ford silently followed Fiddleford down the hall and into the living room. Mrs. McGucket sat in a rocking chair, holding a small bundle, while Mr. McGucket was tidying the room.  Mr. McGucket looked up at the sound of footsteps. His face twisted.

              “You!” he snarled, stomping over to Ford.  “Get out!”

              “Mr. McGucket, I just-”

              “Leave!  You broke my son’s heart and then broke it again!  Lute’s been devastated by this.”  Mr. McGucket shook his head.  “Can’t believe I was naïve enough to think that Stan would be the problem of the two of ya.”

              “Mr. McGucket-”

              “No arguin’, boyo.  Yer not welcome in this place.  Not after what you’ve done.”

              “Pa,” Fiddleford interjected.  “This is my home.  I let Stanford in.  He can stay until I kick him out.”  Mr. McGucket glared at Fiddleford.  The venom in his expression startled Ford.

              “If Lute hears-”

              “Mearl,” Mrs. McGucket said, still rocking back and forth in her chair.  “Stanford has a right to meet his son.”

              “Th-” Ford started.

              “Don’t thank me,” Mrs. McGucket said shortly. “Then I’d have to say you were welcome. And you aren’t.”  Ford’s body filled with ice at her vicious tone.  She got up from the chair and strode over. As she got closer, Ford could feel harsh, dry, hot wind biting where his skin was exposed.  Fiddleford looked at his mother, exasperated.

              “Ma.  Please cut that out.”

              “Hmph.”  Mrs. McGucket pursed her lips into a straight line, but the wind stopped.  “Hold out yer arms.”  Ford did as he was told.  Mrs. McGucket carefully deposited the bundle she was holding into his arms.  Ford felt his heart begin to race.  He carefully parted the infant’s bangs to reveal his eyes. Tate stared stoically at him, his eyes brown, rather than Fiddleford’s blue.

              “Hello, Tate,” Ford croaked.  Mr. and Mrs. McGucket exchanged a frustrated look before turning away and marching out of the room.  Ford swallowed the sudden lump in his throat.  “Fiddleford, I’m sorry that your parents are-”

              “We’re both to blame,” Fiddleford said.  He stroked Tate’s cheek with one finger.  “I refuse to let ya bear it all on yer own.” His voice was thick with emotion. Ford could only nod, unable to speak, the weight of everything that was happening finally crashing over him in full.

              “He’s very- he’s very handsome,” Ford managed, still staring at Tate.

              “I agree,” Fiddleford said softly.  Tate yawned widely.  Despite himself, Ford smiled.  He held out a finger.  Tate eagerly grabbed it with his hand.

              His six-fingered hand.  Ford had known Tate had twelve fingers like him, but actually seeing it in person was more than he could bear.  He let out a choked sob.

              “You all right?” Fiddleford asked.  Ford shook his head.  “What’s wrong?”

              “Well, my ex-boyfriend flooded my house, my sister-in-law refuses to let me in her house, my twin brother is following her lead, and the relationship I built with my sister-in-law’s family is crumbling.  And all of it is because of the conception and birth of my son.”  Ford closed his eyes.  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

              “I hoped it wouldn’t be obvious whose he was,” Fiddleford said.  “I thought I might be able to get away with no one suspecting a thing.”

              “Polydactyly is dominant.  There was a 50% chance he’d be like me.”

              “And 50% chance he wouldn’t.”

              “I just- you were really going to keep me in the dark?” Ford asked softly.  “About my son?  You expected to raise him as a single parent, never telling me whose he was?”

              “I hadn’t planned that far ahead.  All’s I planned was keepin’ it a secret from Lute fer a while. Maybe until he’d found himself a new main squeeze.”

              “What if I had gotten back together with Lute? What then?”

              “I…”  Fiddleford looked away.  “Like I said. I didn’t plan nearly as far in advance as I should have.  I just wanted to keep Lute from gettin’ upset like he did.”

              “No matter how long you held off telling him, he would have been upset,” Ford pointed out.  Fiddleford sighed.

              “Yer right.”  He rubbed his forehead.  “All I can hope for now is that he cools off a bit.  Give the sit’ation some time, and maybe I can build up a relationship with him again.”  Tate began to fuss loudly.  “He’s prob’ly hungry.”

              “Oh.”  Ford handed Tate to Fiddleford.  “I- I should probably go.  I have some work to do at my mom’s place.”  Fiddleford cocked his head curiously.  “She was the only person willing to take me in while my house gets repaired.”

              “Ah.”

              “Even still, she’s pissed at me.  Stan told her what happened.”  Ford rubbed his forehead.  “It feels a bit like it’s just me against the world right now.  And rightfully so.”

              “I’ve been feelin’ the same way m’self,” Fiddleford said softly.  He took a hold of Ford’s hand and squeezed it.  “Don’t worry.  It might take a while, but things’ll blow over soon.”

              “Easy enough for you to say.  Aerokinesis runs in your family,” Ford said.  Fiddleford managed a small smile.  On impulse, Ford leaned over to kiss Tate’s forehead. “Goodbye, Tate.  I look forward to spending more time with you.”  Tate stopped fussing for a moment to stare at him in shock.  Fiddleford chuckled softly.

              “I think he’s lookin’ forward to it, too.”

#this is some top-notch Drama in an already Dramatic AU #I'm very proud of this even tho it also makes me feel v bad for Lute #Lute doesn't deserve this. he's just a good boy who wanted a clean break with a boyfriend for once #but nope. Ford and Fidds made sure that didn't happen #Superhero/villain AU #Stanley Pines #Stanford Pines #Fiddleford McGucket #Pa McGucket #Ma McGucket #McGucket Family #Tate McGucket #my writing #ficlet #speecher speaks

[ettadunham]

A Buffy rewatch 6x07 Once More, With Feeling

aka UNDERSTAND WE’LL GO HAND IN HAND BUT WE’LL WALK ALONE IN FEAR - TELL ME! - WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE

Welcome to this dailyish text post series where I will rewatch an episode of Buffy and go on an impromptu rant about it for an hour. Is it about one hyperspecific thing or twenty observations? 10 or 3k words? You don’t know! I don’t know!!! In this house we don’t know things.

And today’s pick is the musical episode I’ve been comparing all musical episodes to for the last decade. Unfairly so, as they were never going to be as good as Once More, With Feeling.

I was actually supposed to watch this yesterday, but as I started, I realized that some things were just off. The episode went from the opening credits straight to Going Through the Motions, skipping the intro with the Overture. The following scene in the shop also started late, and the If We’re Together section was cut entirely from I’ve Got a Theory.

Turns out that for some reason, this HD edition I’ve acquired had what I assume is the cut-to-episode-length version of OMWF. (It was on a digital platform though, so that still doesn’t really make sense to me…) So naturally, at this point the only thing I could do is exit the fuck out, and look for the DVD version, even if it meant postponing watching the episode to another day.

And boy, what a world of difference it made. Suddenly, the flow was there, the songs felt natural (despite knowing that they were obviously recorded separately from the scenes), and everything was right with the world.

Did I sing along Rest in Peace? Did I melt upon hearing Amber Benson’s singing voice? Did I dance through the entirety of Give Me Something to Sing About? Yes, yes, yes, and even more yes. I’m of half a mind to just go and immediately rewatch the episode right now to recapture that magic.

This episode is almost universally beloved, with most people citing it as their favorite of the whole of Buffyverse, and having the highest rating on IMDb. And it still holds up today – to the point that I’m considering re-evaluating my own list to have it at the top.

Now, I’ve been listening to the soundtrack even before starting this current rewatch, and so I was actually a bit worried that that would take away from some of my enjoyment. What if it’s all too fresh on my mind? But I was thankfully wrong on that front. As enjoyable as some of the songs are on their own merits, putting them in the context of the characters, episode and the season is what elevates them.

It’s also what largely elevates OMWF for me from most other of its equivalents on TV. This isn’t just a tacked on episode with a gimmick. There are big reveals and set-ups for all of the characters, and it feels strangely right to have those expressed and let out in big musical numbers. But that’s why it’s so risky too, because the whole season arc hinges on those working out.

And it nails it.

Once More, With Feeling is often described by TV critics as the episode that shouldn’t be working, and yet somehow still does. And I think it’s because of that commitment, to have it be such an integral part of the story and characters, and not just as a forgettable side adventure that has little to do with anything else around it.

Really, the only character that’s conveniently left out of most of the soul baring is Willow. Mostly because Alyson Hannigan will not sing in public. No, Joss. Not happening. Two lines in an ensemble piece, and a joke one in another (“I think this line’s mostly filler”). Not even a dance number like Michelle Trachtenberg’s ballet performance. That’s all you’ve got to work with. Figure it out.

(I guess this also means that Willow’s fear in Nightmares was probably inspired by Alyson too…)

But it still works. Instead of being told of what Willow feels, we see her being confronted with the pain she caused to her loved ones. That’s kind of apt.

We gotta talk about Under Your Spell though. Because the lyrics and the visuals are kind of out of control.

YES, THEY’RE HAVING SEX, WE GET IT. SHE CAN FEEL HER INSIDE. WE GET IT.

Like, kudos for making what is essentially an explicit lesbian sex scene before that was all that acceptable to air on network TV, but to make everything about that song and how it’s shot (post the first refrain at least) just one poorly concealed sex metaphor after another?

Don’t get me wrong. I love it. But it’s out of control.

There’s also just that tiny bit of (YIKES!) detail of Willow removing Tara’s informed consent (YIKES! YIKES!) in the previous episode… but that’s why this song has a reprise. Where Tara can just go the fuck off.

The Under Your Spell / Standing reprise is actually one of my favorite songs in the entire episode, not even gonna lie. See, a good reprise not only repeats what’s already been sang, but it also shows how far the characters have come, how much they’ve grown and what they’ve learned. In some cases, it even manages to completely recontextualize what came before it.

That’s what I love about this song. It points out the double meaning behind Tara being under Willow’s spell, something that we were always supposed to be aware of, but now Tara’s in on it as well. And while Standing is really just a repeat of itself, imco (in my cultured opinion) Anthony Stewart Head and Amber Benson both have really pretty voices that work together beautifully, which elevates that song as well.

I guess I’ll also need to talk about Giles and his life choice now, huh.

Okay, so I mentioned this before, that I wasn’t really sure where I’d land on the whole Giles leaving storyline and my feelings about it, so here is the final verdict.

I get it. But it’s also stupid and wrong.

First of all, shout out to the show for making me understand Giles’ motives enough to not just talk about this plotline as “Anthony Stewart Head wanted to do something else”. Which is probably what happened, but I still buy the story itself.

He’s right about the fact that Buffy is using him as a crutch, and neglecting her responsibilities, even when it comes to Dawn. But also, especially when it comes to Dawn, who is pretty vulnerable, and her still unknown klepto problem is just another cry for help and attention.

When Buffy’s asked around the beginning of the episode if Dawn’s got to school okay, her answer is “I think”. Not to mention that she still hasn’t had a talk with Dawn about her Halloween shenanigans, because “Giles took care of that”.

I said before that the solution for Giles should be for him to set some boundaries, to make Buffy face those responsibilities and become involved. Which he kind of tries to do here, but really badly.

Giles’ problem appears to be that he doesn’t know how to do this step-by-step. He either takes upon himself to sort out her finances, or he tells her to face a demon alone without him or her friends to save her sister. He either has the parent talk with Dawn in Buffy’s stead, or he leaves the continent to force her to deal with her life without him.

See, this is just a terrible way to solve the issue at hand. Buffy may need a push to stop avoiding her problems, but she also needs support. If Giles feels like he’s unable to set those boundaries while being there, because he loves her too much to see her struggle or whatever, that seems like a Giles problem to me.

Again, I’m seeing Giles’ point, and honestly, I also just think that he craves a fresh start regardless of what’s going on with Buffy… But leaving an obviously depressed loved one to their own devices without support, telling them to face their demons alone – that’s bad advice, Rupert.

Why must all dads let Buffy down.

Here’s another man who fucked up today – Xander. Apparently he was the one who summoned the demon; which he failed to disclose, even when people started dying.

Of course, the reveal itself is mostly there for comedy, so just don’t think about how Xander is responsible for those deaths. And that he was going to keep that information to himself up to the very last minute.

Oh yeah, and Buffy and Spike kissed. “This isn’t real, but I just want to feel…”

ANYWAY, who’s ready to rewatch the episode again? Once more… with feeling!

#buffy rewatch 2k19 #btvs talk #btvs

[dingoes8myrp]

I'm interested to hear your thoughts on Spander. :)

Well, it kind of goes hand in hand with what I posted earlier about Spuffy where the ship did not appeal to me at all until I started looking at Spike as two different characters: pre-soul!Spike and post-soul!Spike. Xander and pre-soul!Spike, to me, would be disastrous and I couldn’t make it make sense in any way that was appealing to me. However, post-soul!Spike opened up more possibilities.

I’ve always felt like Xander could potentially be gay or bi-sexual. I think the evidence is there and, to me, it’s semi-canon because it’s eluded to quite a bit that he may have some level of attraction to men. So it isn’t a far leap for me to ship him with a male character. It’s the vampire part that’s the big hurdle. I believe Xander is vehemently anti-vampire because his introduction to vampires involved losing (and killing) one of his best friends. To boot, if he allows himself to accept the fact that vampires can be “good” or can be redeemed, it opens up a nasty can of emotional worms because it means there’s a possibility Jesse didn’t need to die. So I think that’s a big reason why Xander remains resistent or distrusting of vampires throughout the TV series. Specifically vampires when he warms up to all kinds of other demons (ehem, Anya). 

But, Spike and Xander developed a nice back-and-forth in season 7 (I think. I could be mixing it up, but I’m fairly certain it was 7 because I think Andrew was around too). Even Xander sort of grudgingly accepted Spike after he got a soul because I think he’s matured enough to realize it does make a big difference, particularly since he’s had experience with Anya now being an ex-demon. There’s a big difference in how Xander relates to Spike and how he related to Angel in earlier seasons. I think a big part of that is Xander’s growth as a character. You have the maturity factor. With Angel, Xander’s animosity toward him largely stemmed from his fondness for Buffy and after Angelus occurred in season 2 Xander never really got right with Angel. Then we had a similar turn in season 6 with Spuffy when Seeing Red rolled around and it was this line in the sand for him. But, unlike Angel, Spike stuck around and Xander had to learn to deal with him if he wanted to remain in the fold with Buffy. I’m not sure he would’ve been capable of doing that in, say, season 3. The other factor is general experience with supernatural creatures. He’s learned a lot about demons and vampires by the time we get to seasons 6 and 7. He’s definitely learned things aren’t black and white, so he’s at the point where he’s open-minded when it comes to supernatural creatures in general. He’s also more forgiving now that he’s seen Anya redeem herself after her time as a vengeance demon, and he’s seen Willow come back from her Dark Willow chapter. 

For the Spike side, I actually feel like he’s more open-minded than most characters. He’s one of the least judgmental ones of the bunch. He genuinely accepts people as they are, flaws and all. So I think he’d have a much easier time warming up to Xander if Xander was willing to warm up to him. It’s not much of a stretch for me at all for Spike.

The how of it, to me, would need to be a well-developed headcanon. I can’t just throw them together in a scene with no context. I have to make it make sense in my mind. I could definitely see it happening post-season 7 when Xander is grieving for Anya and Spike has been resurrected by Wolfram & Hart and is dealing with being robbed of his shining heroic death. I could see the two of them bonding in these grief-stricken moments, picking each other up, sniping at one another (and each understanding it wasn’t personal), having a few beers, watching TV - just hanging out and being friends toward one another when they needed it. Xander would be vulnerable enough to actually be open to warming up to Spike, and would be more apt to do so because he’d think maybe Anya would want him to be less judgmental of supernatural creatures. And once Xander let his wall down a bit I think Spike would think he was an alright guy. Amusing, laid-back, but not one to take crap from anybody (even if he’s terrified to stand up to you because you could snap his neck in a blink). And I think Spike would ultimately see a strength in Xander much like Buffy’s. Xander, when the chips are down, is always willing to stand face to face with a threat, knowing he could very well die, and be totally cool with it if it means he saved someone else. We, the audience, have seen him do it a few times. In The Zeppo, he stood in front of a bomb in the high school basement and talked that zombie dude out of blowing up the school. Then, of course, there’s the yellow crayon speech in Grave. There’s a quiet bravery to Xander that people don’t often see (and he probably wouldn’t care for them to). I think if Spike had the opportunity to see one of those moments in action he’d be damn impressed. And I think he’d appreciate Xander - and acknowledge that to him. And I think Xander would be surprised but touched to be acknowledged (because he so often isn’t). 

This turned rambly because I’ve never written any coherent meta about these two, so you’re getting my barely edited stream-of-consciousness here.

[captusmomentum]

ARRANGED TANZANITE RETURNS WITH A BANG!!!!!

fair warning tho this fucker is COMPLETELY UNPROOF READ. I told myself I’d get something posted today and i’m doing it even if it’s janky as shit I’m too tried to actually edit it atm so whatever. ENJOY!!!! IT’S FLUFF (KINDA????)

@theladypirate @feynites

Seeing Inan with her clan peers is a bit of shock. He’s generally used to her being good natured but nervous and prone to anxiety. Kind but not someone he call sociable. That is until now at this little impromptu gathering of  many of the younger clan elves currently in the city. It’s about as raucous as you’d expect for a group of youths this large but there’s nothing untoward going on so tolerable to his sensibilities.

What’s the focus of his and Uthvir’s attention now is Inanallas who had been called away from their table about 2 hours ago by some friend and is now embroiled in leading some large group songs and play acting what is clearly very popular childhood tales to the delight of the crowd. The songs at the start had been the most jarring, He had absolutely no idea she could yell that loudly and wished he had not found out by her yelling obscenities at her fellows. It must be the drink— though he knows she hasn’t drunk enough to lose her senses so completely but— clearly it must just be that she’s extremely drunk. People are very different when inebriated that’s just normal.

The play acting is actually quite engaging, it’s not a quality production by any stretch of the imagination, but the stories are the tales that Inanallas and her peers where told as children, folk lore and such which is actually deeply interesting. Uthvir is going along with the crowd laughing and crowing with the lot. Honestly.

Inanallas seems to usually end up as a villain or something similar (which he finds offensive frankly, his spouse is not a villain!) and they do a very good job being an incredibly hammy villain, shifting to match the character, some of which he cannot help but note are quite attractive— not that she’s normally not, in fact, her main form is definitely more attractive than any of those. Definitely. His spouses are very attractive just like he is, they are all very good looking.

He takes a healthy swig of his wine.

They are all drunk by the time they make their way back to their apartments, not embarrassingly so but still. Inanallas is still in exceedingly high spirits leading the way as Uthvir endlessly goads them.

“I’m shocked, I hadn’t realized we’d married such a talent” They drawl wickedly.

Inan spins around and bows dramatically as they walk backwards.

“Why thank you! I pride myself on being a rank amateur thespian.”

“Amateur? No, I thought you scenery chewing was truly professional.”

He can’t help the burst of laughter at that apt jibe, but he quickly covers his mouth and works to contain the outburst. Inanallas wink at him roguishly and Thenvunin can feel his face flush from more than wine.

The mood is high when they get back and as comfortable as it as ever been between them all which is practically sublime after all the stress and terrible awkwardness of it all. Their conversation seems impossible to break the train of and they all end up still at chatting in the living room hours later and much more sober by the time he realizes how late it is and how he really should get to bed. He’s loathe to end this moment but he supposes someone among them has to be responsible, though it pains him to have to wear that mantle so frequently.

“I’m sorry to say but it is terribl—“ before he can finish he’s overcome by a yawn which he covers quickly with his sleeve. How embarrassing!

“Tired? Oh no wonder! Look at the time!”  Inan exclaims sympathetically, noticing the hour herself.

He nods. “It’s unfortunate we have to end such a wonderful night but we really should be to bed.”

“Oh? I don’t think it really has to end just now does it? Though I agree moving things to the bedroom is for the best.”

Thenvunin stares at Uthvir aghast. Honestly! The savage! If anyone here that should’ve been playing the villain it’s Uthvir not Inanallas! How typical of them to ruin a perfect night with their lewd lustful ways! His gaze snaps to poor virginal Inanallas who this must be traumatizing to only be even more horrified. They’re grinning at Uthvir with a look he’s categorized as ‘Inan is about to go along with Uthvir’s Terrible Plan’. He’s Doomed.

Before he can try to dissuade them (because of course he would) Inan has scooped him up as if he weighs nothing and his flush returns with a vengeance. A hot spike of embarrassing arousal pierces him and he works furiously to regain his composure. He is clings to them tightly—for balance! And focuses on the impropriety of it all and not how solid her arms are or the feel of her so close.

“ I— You! Put me down at once! This is— I swear—! You two are incorrigible! Even after all this you to still want to— to—!”

Uthvir chuckles as they open the door to his bedroom for Inanallas.

“Oh come now, I thought you just said were loathe to part with your beloved spouses? We’re simply remedying that.”

He huffs angrily but supposes it was bound to happen eventually. They are married and it was only a matter of time before they prevailed upon him thusly. He must simply stay strong and preform this more lewd duty of a husband.

Only, by the time Inan places him on his bed and topples on top of him, nuzzling his collarbone it’s clear that she at least is just as tired as he is. It’s no shock, they were the most active out of all of them. Looking again at Uthvir as they sit next to them even they too look a bit sleepy. It looks like the likelihood that they’ll be jointly ravishing him is quite low. He feels a bit put out— only that he has to continue to wait to get it over with. Obviously.

He cannot help flush further when Inanallas begins to undress him.

“W-what—?!” he gasps—demands.

“Well you can’t sleep in your fancy clothes can you?”

Once again he’s thrown for a loop, it must be part of some evil clan mind trick since he’s so throughly caught wrong footed that he’s practically wanton under he as she works, maneuvering him out of his dress. He notices with mounting horror has she shifts that he is definitely reacting and as she is straddling him she must certainly have noticed. But maybe she hasn’t as she doesn’t exclaim in shock or make some lascivious remark like Uthvir. Maybe she’s simply is so untainted she doesn’t even know how to tell? But then he’d be a monster for exposing her to something to lurid—

He’s distracted by the trail of kisses she leaves down his neck that seem to hit sensitive spots too well to be lucky that makes him rethink that.

Uthvir sits back down —Uthvir had left? With one of his nightgowns in hand— one of the red ones. Gods, red— Honestly the elf had no shame.

“Tell me Thenvunin,  would you like us to dress you as well?”

Thenvunin shoots up one of the hands on Inan’s thighs —when did those get there?— reflexively going to her back to keep her steady and safely to him.

“I am more than capable of dressing myself thank you!”

They raise their hands in mock defeat and offer him the offending garment.

He snatches it and Inan takes it as her cue to leave his lap and he instantly misses her weight. Without her body to obscure it, his reaction is in full view. Quickly he gets up and turns his back to them as he changes quickly in an attempt to preserve some of his dignity.

He can hear clothes flying and hitting the floor and he looks down at the growing pile of what’s clearly Inan’s clothes before looking at her in time to see her boots go flying. She haphazardly wrestles her pants off and throws them to the floor as well leaving her in only what could best be described as a kerchief held up by string and tiny panties. He stares openly for a moment as he now can very clearly see the full extent of her tattoos before his senses come back and he quickly returns his attention to the pile of clothes. He’d wonder how someone who wore so much could disrobe so quickly if it was clear she tore them off her like an animal.

He snaps back around at Uthvir’s growl of approval to them oggling Inanallas. Honestly! He returns to the bed and quickly slips under the covers for modesty, closer now he can keep an eye on that beast and make sure they do not try to take advantage of their spouse.

“Inanallas would you be a dear and help me out of my armor?”

“Yeah of course.”

She moves closer to Uthvir and he can see her back. He feels a jolt as somehow her back is even more covered than her front. He didn’t think that— Well it’s not as if— Tattoos can be quite artist even if her’s are quite brutish thought he would never say that were interesting to him—It’s doing things to him in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

He shifts the blankets.

Uthvir and Inan move quickly and soon Uthvir is out of all their many pieces which are set away much more neatly than Inan’s own articles. Inan comes and slips in beside him as Uthvir removes only what would be truly uncomfortable to sleep in before joining the two of them.

Thenvunin is quite certain he’s about to die from the strain.

#my writing #arranged tanzanite au #inanallas #uthvir #thenvunin #tanzanite trio #one day i'll get back to fucking proof reading but lol whatever #if this is/was continued there's an easy 50/50 it'd either end with sleep or quick sleepy sexy times #honestly it can go either way #finally the dark secret is Revealed inan is actually REALLY OBNOXIOUS #where is this in the time line you ask????? WHO KNOWS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[texanredrose]

Voltron: Legendary Defender S1

So... I’ve made a few posts about how I grew up with the 90′s run of Voltron, and I have all the GoLion episodes, and maybe I’ve mentioned I have editions of some of the comic runs, and I’m pretty much really into Voltron, y’all. Of course, I’ve been watching the reboot. And I just- I want to rant a little bit about this show, okay? Below the cut is a reaction to the first season (I’ll probably do one for each season) because I wanted to rewatch the series anyway.

But y’all gotta know. It’s long. Because I can talk about some Voltron, y’all.

Okay, first off, if you’ve never watched the 90′s run of the series, or the 3rd Dimension, or anything other than this new run, understand that S1 was mostly me fighting my nostalgia. I’m very familiar with these characters and they generally have the same characterization across incarnations... until this one, and I, for one, am so okay with that. Let’s take a look.

Lance, Hunk, and Pidge: Okay, being introduced to Lance, Hunk, and Pidge first, separate from the others, is a nice change of pace. They also seem younger in a sense; I’m not going to bother looking up ages, but the 90′s run always had the Pilots acting as adults, occasionally goofing off, but serious more often than not. As much soldiers as space explorers. So seeing Lance be excitable, Hunk as a genuine expert in things (not just related to food or lifting heavy stuff), and Pidge as being secretive with ulterior motives- that’s all interesting. You can’t really knock the original run because, hey, it was technically made in the 80′s, imported in the 90′s, and defined by the tropes of that era. Hunk and Pidge, especially, were one dimensional, while Lance often functioned as a background character, except for that one time he went to a special world in blue lion- I don’t remember the episode exceptionally well (gimme a break, I was, like, nine at the time, it was twenty years ago) but I remember he had some sort of love interest on the planet, there was a pouch of seeds, had to save the Princess, but that’s the only time I recall him having a solo journey. All in all, the original trio functioned to support Keith and Allura and to stand as a contrast to Lotor. Having them be the first characters we’re introduced to, aside from allowing them to exist as characters first within this series, worried me that they would just be a vehicle until we could meet the rest of the main cast. I’m pleased to see that their characters continue to grow throughout S1 and that Hunk even gets a somewhat solo journey relatively early on in the series. VLD!Hunk is just so much more of fun now that he has a clear heart and soul to his character. Lance, while I’m not a fan of the flirt archetype, is still pretty fun, and Pidge is just awesome all around. These three possess far more depth this go around, not just establishing that they had lives before Galaxy Garrison, but also delving into their homesickness and ultimate decision to stay. 

Keith: This is probably one of the bigger surprises, at least in the first few episodes. Originally, Keith was the cool and calm leader that was a quintessential part of any 90′s team. Now he’s, like, this rebel with a secret cause (which doesn’t come around until S2, but I digress), which makes him feel so much younger in comparison. He’s hotheaded and kinda arrogant (Lance too, but he kinda always was) On the one hand, yeah, he’s not a blank slate to shout the appropriate catch phrase, but it’s weird to see a character I associate with strong, dedicated, almost single minded adherence to what is “right” walking more of a grey line. I mean, original Keith was definitely lawful good, and to see this version’s chaotic good is both refreshing and weird. Also, I just realized it’s never really explained in the show how Keith and Shiro knew each other. It’s clear they have some sort of history but it’s never stated, just kinda hinted at being mentor/mentee and then developed in that vein along the way.

Shiro: ... who are you... while it’s been an adjustment to get used to the other characters, Shiro being essentially a brand new character threw me for the second biggest loop in the first season. He’s very much what I expected of Keith but in a more... subdued manner. Keith at least yelled in cheesy 90′s fashion when he charged into a fight, whereas Shiro’s  more apt to be tactical. On the one hand, good to see that leader role filled by a similar archetype... but like... ass in the whole Galra arm thing and the amnesia thing and just... Shiro... who are you...

Allura: Where do I fucking start? Unlike the other characters, the differences between original Allura and this Allura gradually became more evident. At first, she pretty much is the support Princess who cheers on the pilots and worries for them and all that, Team Mom and such, The Chick, all the usual tropes, but as early as the second episode, she’s showing herself as a headstrong, assertive taskmaster, which, honestly, was hilarious. But where Allura in the original run fulfilled the role of damsel in distress more often than not, this Allura is very much a fighter, and she reflects a history of being raised amid war. She’s decisive once she’s made her decision but shows hesitance in trying to balance her father’s and people’s ways with her new reality. Unlike the original, Allura is one of the last remaining members of her race- oh, and quick note? Love her fucking character design. For the first time, she actually looks like an alien, which I adore- and tries to be both the fighter needed to take down the Galra Empire and the peaceful ambassador that Alteans have always been. Her most decisive moments in S1 are when she’d hellbent on saving the Balmerans and the Balmera, and she shows hesitance when it comes to actually trying to tackle the war with Zarkon, and bringing back King Alfor as an actual AI instead of just a vision she sees is a nice touch. Her decision to infiltrate the ship in disguise is also one of the times she’s decisive and that one, again, doesn’t directly involve fighting. I really like how Allura shows the challenges of being both dedicated to peace and being forced into a position where fighting must occur. She’s also equally assisting in getting the castle running again, showing that she’s a talented enough engineer in her own right to actually do the work without Coran’s supervision. She’s smart, she’s strong (lemme tell ya, when she was disguised as a Galra? Fucking, end me, that was beautiful, be honored Shiro that you bore witness to that), she’s certain of the outcomes she wants but shows a very mortal fallibility in attempting to reach them. She’s not just the Princess; she’s so much more, she’s a rebel leader, a fighter, a daughter trying to continue and protect her father’s legacy, her peoples’. Out of all the cast, Allura (alongside Pidge and Hunk) is one of the few characters I don’t find myself missing from the original run. Sometimes, I miss how Keith was the calm one and Lance was supportive of him rather than their constant bickering (it’s funny, don’t get me wrong, just a different dynamic than I expected) and so on, but I don’t find myself missing Allura’s almost Disney Princess archetype from the original. The fact that there’s a somewhat sensible canon reason that she can communicate with the Space Mice, for instance, is nice. Which, on that note...

The Space Mice: Oh God, you assholes are back... thankfully in a reduced capacity but still...

Coran: Okay. This... took an adjustment. The biggest adjustment, honestly. In the original, Coran was the older, calmer, steady hand who helped guide the pilots and Allura through trial after trial. Collected and certain, he rarely faltered, and would chide people for their mistakes the way a father figure would. New Coran is... a complete and utter goofball and I love him. As much as I hate to use the word, I’ll admit I did cringe at the first few episodes, purely because every time Coran was on screen, I was reminded very much of how the original Coran would handle the situation. At least in the other characters, there are shades and moments where they behave just like their original counterparts (Allura with the Space Mice, Keith tackling problems head on, Lance being a bit of a flirt, Pidge using her size to her advantage, Hunk and food, and even Shiro shows some commonalities with Sven) but with Coran, there’s no real moment when he behaves exactly like his counterpart would. He’s always dropping little one liners or making offhand comments that strongly remind the audience that Alteans are an alien race with alien customs and alien words, even when he’s fulfilling his role as pilot/co-pilot of the castle. It took some time to grow on me, and I’ll be honest in that I don’t always enjoy his character the way I’ve come to enjoy everyone else’s, but it is purely because of nostalgia. I’m aware enough to realize that, when I completely check out and don’t think about the original, I do like his character, and I do find his scenes to be funny more often than not. But- like in later seasons- there are times when his antics get to a point where I’m genuinely missing the old Coran. I think it’s mostly because the stakes in this version just seem so much higher- the Drule Empire seems almost harmless in comparison to the Galra- so not having that consistently steady hand is almost a step backwards in being prepared for the fights. However, I’m also acutely aware of why Coran is written in this way in the new version, and that’s because...

Nanny: ... is not fucking here and thank fucking god. Always my least favorite character and she came off as a caring but ultimately flat stereotype rather than a character in and of herself. I realize the new Coran is basically old Coran and Nanny rolled up into one and that impacted my view of the new Coran but, if I had to pick, I’d take new Coran over Nanny any day.

The Lions: I didn’t think I would ever have to do this but I actually have to do this and I love it, honestly. The Lions themselves are actually characters, albeit subtle ones through the course of the show. In the original, the Lions didn’t so much as have their own personalities or ‘talk’ to the pilots; they were just giant mechs. But in this version, they do have their own personalities and characterizations, and it wasn’t until the second viewing of S1 that it started to make sense. At first, I took the Lions’ independent actions- telling the pilots about weapons, moving of their own accord, etc- to be functions of Rule of Cool and simple plot vehicles to advance the action. Now, I’m rethinking that. Coming back with the knowledge of King Alfor being the former Red Lion paladin, I understand why Red brings out the big gun at the height of the S1 climax; it’s not just Keith trying to stop Zarkon, it’s Red, who watched what Zarkon became firsthand, who lost his previous Paladin to Zarkon, who wants to stop him, too. Being in sync like that is what allows the Paladins to unlock the Lion’s abilities. I understand why Black Lion was so eager to connect with Shiro, who arguably made the strongest attempt at connecting with his Lion, and what that meant to the Black Lion; though Black Lion and Zarkon still share a connection, Zarkon is augmenting it with quintessence, and Black Lion is trapped in this unhealthy bond that it wants to break, as evidenced by connecting with Shiro and coming to save him, but is also partially powerless to do so without Shiro’s help. The Black Lion is trying to do what is right and help but is also collared by Zarkon and trying to break free of that bond. The Lions have their own personalities and quirks, but as silent and mystical robotic creations, their characterizations are far more subtle, and I think that’s a super neat way of both supporting the mystical power being built around them within the lore and expanding on the Voltron legend itself. My memory is really fuzzy, but I don’t remember there being a concrete explanation for how Voltron came to be originally. I remember the legend about it being torn apart by a space witch, but that’s about it. In fact, I think early on in the series, it’s implied that Voltron wasn’t five separate parts but a single whole, and then adapted to being five separate parts later, but that could also be a different version as there are some Lion specific roles that seemed to be designed, so I might be getting my continuities mixed up. Bottom line: the new lore surrounding the Lions is fantastic and I love it.

Zarkon & Haggar: I’ll talk about these two independently at a later point- because dear lord do I love what was done with their characters- but in S1, they behave much like I expected of them. Zarkon’s far more serious, to the point, and built up as being both a terribly powerful fighter in his own right as he is a ruthless dictator. Original Zarkon was more... like the original Rita Repulsa, but with slightly less cackling. Again, 90′s cheese, and in spades. Considering the more serious air, this version of Zarkon is everything I expected, but weaving him in as a former ally was a nice turn. Haggar being... well... Haggar also carried with it no surprises, except in the resentment shown by others towards her. In the original, Haggar just kinda did her own thing but was obviously part of the Drules; in this one, the hostility shown towards Haggar is both a function of others’ lust for power and her possession of Zarkon’s favor and the, at that point, subtle disdain for those not of Galra blood. Something I noticed while rewatching is that, at this point, before Zarkon’s been megainfused with quintessence, he’s very calm, logical, and driven, Haggar constantly refers to Voltron as being “ours” when she talks about capturing it, and they have a relatively calm and healthily evil relationship, considering they’re both main antagonists. Zarkon’s not demeaning towards Haggar in S1. As the seasons progress, and more quintessence is used on Zarkon, this changes drastically, but here in the first season, it’s very easy to see why and how Zarkon’s empire grew to this point over the past 10k years. As Voltron begins to liberate planets, however, Zarkon and Haggar’s bond begins to erode, and I think it’s a very nice touch to show both how things ran smoothly before Voltron returned to the fight and how things started going terribly wrong as both the resistance grew and the bond began to deteriorate.

Okay, so now that the characters are out of the way, there’s something I want to address about the first season that is probably a big difference for me versus a fresh viewer, and that’s pacing. I'm really not sure how it came off to a new viewer but, as someone who’s seen the ‘find the lions, form Voltron for the first time’ schtick done several times, the fact that they’d managed to do it in 2 episodes was such a relief. Compared to the first, like, ten episodes of the original run that it took just to get to Arus, it felt like a lot of the filler was trimmed down. In fact, almost all filler is absent; there’s not a single episode in the first season that doesn’t contain something interesting and/or plot related. Also, this run has a plot, as opposed to the monster-of-the-week style of the original run. Imagine my surprise- I sometimes forget that shows nowadays actually do have plots rather than just a gimmick.

All in all, I had intense mixed feelings over the first season. On the one hand, I could appreciate the new and inventive directions and designs for the characters and the universe. On the other hand, however, I loved the original run and the intense bout of fighting nostalgia really made enjoying it difficult. On the second run, though, I can honestly say I enjoyed the first season much more. In a lot of ways, it feels like canonized fanfiction of the original series- an AU that really focuses on fleshing out the Voltron universe- because of all the little nods and renamings to reference the original material.

Also, hands down favorite thing introduced in S1? Actual fucking aliens. I... honestly can’t remember a single “alien” race in the original that didn’t look straight up human, aside from the Drules (Galra) and even then, censorship made more than half of them robots. So, like, seeing actual aliens with alien customs in this universe is just, 10/10, excellent improvement.

#Voltron #Voltron spoilers #Only if you haven't seen the first season though #TRR reviews

[remembermemorablememories]

Monday, February 12, 2018

post #35

main points:

- went to discussion for CSDS, crypto class

- sent out letter to walter

- homework

- club meeting

- personal thoughts

today i:

- woke up past my alarm... it was 10:38am when i woke up. my class was at 11:15am and i could show up at anytime cause we were just demoing our Raft implementation stuff. but i was confused when i woke up cause somehow my alarm for 10am didn’t go off. i looked at the dresser next to my bed and my phone wasn’t there. i looked at the ground and found my phone almost underneath my bed. somehow i must’ve knocked it down in my sleep. 

speaking of my sleep, i had a very bizarre dream. and i woke up with... kind of a mess on the sheets...

i went and took a shower, made a PB&J sandwich, and went to discussion

- i got there around 11:25am, demoed my project, and left around 12:10pm to go to crypto class at 12:20pm. we learned about encipherings (CBC and CTR)

- me ryan alex brian and tyrone went to the central food court to get lunch after class ended at 1:35pm. we ate until like 2:30pm ish

- i got back around 3pm and kind of lazed around. i felt so tired for some reason. probably cause i’ve been getting six hours of sleep over the weekend even though i didn’t need to go to sleep so late. i played fort nite over the weekend with dimitri and brian and stayed up so late... sigh

- i finished writing my letter and took it to UPS to mail out to walter. when i went in the guy asked me if i wanted to track the letter and i was like sure why not. he then proceeded to tell me it was $60 for tracking and then i was lie...

NOPE.

so i wrote the letter to the right address on an envelope and sent it out the normal way. apparently it’ll get there in a couple of weeks. snail mail is truly slow (but so interesting)

- went back, did my lecture reading on Zookeper for CSDS

- around 6:45pm, i took the T back to east campus to our hackathon organizer meeting. that went on from 7-8pm. from 8-10pm we had our student developer club meeting (OW). it was pretty productive. we’re starting a mini internal workshop series and today i did a brief talk on github and how to use it for project management (i.e. issues and milestones). i also ended up showing some stuff about branching/PRs. after that, i spent the meeting helping a member deploy his slackbot on heroku, and another new member with some quick iOS things

- took the T back to my apt around 10:30am. stopped by for some chicken tenders since i didn’t eat dinner yet. brought it back to my apt and ate it while watching the office. i’m trying to pull up the episodes i watched but my internet’s being really slow for some reason. it was the episode where gabe made his debut from sabre acquiring dunder mifflin, and also the episode after that

- i showered and looked a bit at the next part of CSDS homework. it’s 12:57am now and i’m pretty tired. i’m ready to go to sleep. gotta wake up at 9am tomorrow

at the end of our OW club meeting, i was chatting with 3 of my friends. in conversation it came up about valentine’s day stuff and when it came to me asking about what i had planned with my gif, i ended up having to explain that my gf and i broke up at the end of last semester. in the moment it felt okay talking about it. they said i was so low key about it that they didn’t even realize it had happened. i also haven’t really told many people yet cause i don’t wanna go around being like “oh yeah me and my gf broke up”. i feel like i should only tell people if they ask. i shrugged and we talked about it briefly, and then moved onto a different topic.

but on my way back to my apt after the meeting, i felt like bringing it up in conversation brought back some more thoughts again about my ex-gf and i just felt this sense of loneliness. it was a sad T ride/walk home. i was thinking to myself that i don’t really talk to her anymore. at least in the same way/frequency. for a moment, i was surprised at how okay i felt about everything, about not having someone to talk to every day. but i quickly realized that i was just playing myself. i don’t think i’m emotionally okay with everything that’s happened. but i feel like i’ve been getting a lot better with coming to terms with it. after i came home and started watching the office and eating chicken tenders, everything was okay again anyhow so

yeah i guess that’s it. time to go to sleep

good night

edit: sigh. i just had to retype this entire post cause my internet cut out. i had to screen shot it since tumblr wouldn’t let me highlight the text of my post. i manually just typed it all out. it’s 1:17am now. i’m going to sleep

P.S. the office episodes are S6E15 and E16

#post #february #2018 #personal

[betterdaysareatoenailaway]

Street Saints #2: The Unknown Cab Driver

     This post marks the sophomore edition of Street Saints, an ongoing series in which the Serious Journalists™️ here at Better Days Are A Toenail Away celebrate the small people of this world who commit heroic acts that would have otherwise gone unacknowledged.     (We say this with tongue firmly in cheek. Being acknowledged by a blog nobody reads is pretty much the same thing as being unacknowledged. An old David Letterman barb comes to mind, that time he made fun of Carson Daly: “Having a show on at 1:30 in the morning is the exact same as not having a show.”)      The last edition of Street Saints featured an unknown paramedic. Today’s features an unknown taxi driver. But first please allow us set the mood.      In an interview with Michael Azerrad (Our Band Could Be Your Life), Dylan Carlson, perhaps best known as the leader of noise rock veterans Earth, summed up his pal Kurt Cobain’s thematic concerns as a painter thusly: “innocence and authentic vision beset upon by a cruel and uncaring universe.”     That’s an apt analysis. Like...take a look at the front cover of Nirvana’s Incesticide, which Cobain painted. If that’s not “innocence...beset upon by a cruel and uncaring universe,” I don’t know what is. 

     Carlson’s analysis also fits the tales told by that stately and venerable periodical known as Better Days Are A Toenail Away. Most of our stories also involve the poppy, because we’re heroin addicts, duh. But so was Cobain. And Carlson. So there.           ANYWAY today’s leading loner is a man we’ll call Trevor. Trevor and I struck up a friendship while waiting on a street corner for our heroin dealer John. John had been up for three days smoking crack and shooting heroin and kept falling asleep instead of leaving his motel room to sell us drugs and we ended up waiting for forty-five minutes. I was dopesick and covered in cold sweat but I’m actually glad John took so long because I got to hear the story I’m about to relate.      Trevor is the same age as me and we’ve followed similar trajectories. Like me, Trevor was drunk for most of his twenties before switching to opiates in his thirties. Unlike me, Trevor very nearly didn’t make it to his thirties because of his drunken twenties.      One night more than a decade ago he was walking home northbound on Barrington Avenue when a gaggle of drunken frat boys hurled some insults at him from a front porch. Drunk and indignant, Trevor shouted a few choice words back. Seconds later, without warning, one of the porch boys snuck up behind Trevor and stabbed him in the neck. The blade entered a few inches below his left ear but, unfortunately, Trevor spun away from his assailant, causing the knife to rip across the front of his neck, all the way over to his Adam’s apple. He immediately crumpled to the sidewalk, the knife handle protruding ghoulishly from his neck like a shiny, synthetic goiter. Not knowing it was better to leave it in, Trevor yanked the knife out of his neck. The worst part wasn’t the pain, he told me, it was the awful sound the knife made as it relinquished its grip on his flesh.      He almost certainly would have died in the next few minutes if not for two extremely surreptitious events. One, an acquaintance of Trevor’s we’ll call Barry, who’d been walking southbound on the opposite side of Barrington, witnessed the attack and came running over, which caused Trevor’s attacker to flee. Two, a taxi cab was approaching southbound on Barrington. Barry frantically hailed the driver and informed him of the situation. The cab driver immediately kicked out his fare, a young couple who obediently exited the back seat as Barry tossed Trevor in and screamed “step on it!”      Somehow Trevor was still conscious. Barry pinched the wound shut as hard as he could, but even with the pressure Trevor was literally emptying in front of him. Blood was gushing all over the back seat of the cab.      The driver floored the accelerator and ran red lights en route to East General Hospital. He drove on sidewalks and shot down the wrong side of the road in his haste to get there faster. Halfway to the hospital a cop car pulled alongside the cab, but somehow the driver was able to communicate the emergency, after which the cop turned his cherry lights on, blared his siren, and pulled in front of the speeding cab to provide an escort. Without this escort Trevor probably would have been dead on arrival.       At East General Hospital, Barry and the cab driver carried an extremely pale Trevor inside where the doctors where waiting for him, because the police officer had notified the hospital beforehand. Trevor was still awake and terrified. Just before losing consciousness, he pleaded with a nurse to tell him the truth. “Be honest with me,” he pleaded, his voice sounding strange and unfamiliar because the blade had pierced his vocal cords. “How does it look?”      “Not good,” the nurse replied brusquely.      And then everything went dark.      Trevor woke up thirty-six hours later, alive and thrashing against the wires and IV hookups that seemed to cover his entire body. “Like waking up with a thin slippery octopus on top of you,” he said. The pain was excruciating. The doctors had shoved a tube all the way down his throat, whether to pump blood out or to feed him I’m not sure, but his throat was as dry and cracked as baked earth. The mere act of swallowing shot lightning bolts of pain up and down his torso.      But he was alive.      The hospital sent him home a few days later with a prescription for Dilaudid that sent him on his way to heroin addiction, which is how 99% of heroin addicts start out...including myself. After a few days of opiated oblivion and late night TV, there was a knock at Trevor’s door. It was the cab driver, checking to see how Trevor was doing and to ask if maybe Trevor could cover the cleaning costs. He was sorry to ask, said the cab driver, but the back of his cab looked and smelled like an abattoir.      Trevor gave the man $500 and had no qualms about doing so. The man had saved his life.     Unbelievably, the driver returned a few hours later with $300 in change and insisted Trevor take it. He wouldn’t even take compensation for the fare he’d lost when he kicked the couple out of his cab. According to Barry, they’d been totally gracious about it. I was happy to hear that. When Trevor first told me the story I imagined them disgruntled, having once witnessed a car accident between an Uber driver and a work van at Dundas and Manning. The Uber passenger, a total douchebag with Buddy Holly glasses and a $500 haircut, instantly kicked open the back door and marched out without checking if his driver was okay. He was on the phone and as he stalked off, retreating back into his judgemental life, I could hear him saying “yeah so my idiot driver just got in an accident…I know, right?”      So at least the young kids were cool about losing their ride. That doesn’t make them heroes or saints, of course; it just makes them decent humans. Barry performed some heroics himself, actions that probably should have upgraded his status from “acquaintance” to “friend,” now that I think about it. But that’s Trevor’s business, not mine.      The real hero of this story though, is the cab driver. Like our first Street Saint, he saved a life and eschewed financial reward. In fact, the cab driver’s actions are even more heroic than the paramedic’s, inasmuch as they were actions. Our unknown paramedic merely refrained from stealing. The unknown taxi driver saved a total stranger’s life at great personal and professional risk. He could have wrapped himself around a tree whilst speeding toward East General. His boss could have reprimanded or fired him for kicking out a fare (he had no way of knowing how the young couple would react. They easily could have been petulant, “I want to speak to the manager” types). This unknown cab driver risked almost everything to save the life of a total stranger.      Now that is saintlike behavior.      When I hear stories like this I realize that this world isn’t as cold and uncaring as it sometimes seems when I’m dopesick or sad or suicidal or all three. THe human condition doesn’t have to resemble the front cover of Incesticide.             PS: In case you’re wondering, the guy who stabbed Trevor was arrested that same night (I doubt it was hard to find him, he would have been covered in blood) but Trevor refused to testify against him. It’s the dirtbag Omerta, which I subscribe to as well...even if they can help us, we don’t talk to cops. But the dude got put away for some other crime, served three years, and left Toronto. Hopefully he hasn’t stabbed anyone in the ensuing years.      PPS: Also, in case you’re wondering if “Trevor” was exaggerating, he showed me the article from the Toronto Star corroborating the details he gave me. I won’t link to it because it gives his real name. As for the details the article didn’t corroborate, I’ll just say this: I believe Trevor. Dope addicts try to lie as little as possible, because they have to lie so much to maintain their addictions. The secret to lying is to not lie any more than you have to. Trevor had no reason to lie to me, therefore I do not believe he was lying. If the dramatic arc of his story was contingent on getting dope, I would be more skeptical. But it wasn’t. I totally believe that this cab driver refused the money. I totally believe that there are people in this world who are that selfless, that heroic, that saintly.       Keep your head up and don’t get stabbed.     

#streetsaints #betterdaysareatoenailaway #opiates #heroinaddiction #opiatecrisis #heroes

[gloieee]

So it Goes

I’ve been having really good days. But I’ve been discovering more of Mac Miller lately and he wrenches heartstrings in so many ways. I resonate with him so hard in certain aspects. It’s uncanny.

10.12.2019

So interesting that I was feeling this way 10.12. 2019 haha. I doubt it was that day, since I was floundering in my essay editing. But maybe it was--maybe I just thought Mac Miller was beautiful enough to take a day off from my “business” writing. I have a feeling it was 10.15. 2019 vaguely. Likely was still having some very good days then.

Life is always a roller coaster and I appreciate it, I suppose. I remember distinctly loving “So it Goes,” but not having a way to connect it to how I felt then. It’s ironic how I feel like this song matches up the most to how I feel now. Slaughterhouse Five, Kurt Vonnegut, literature, one of my first loves. So it goes. I resonate with this one so deeply right now that I think i’ll indulge myself and break it down step by step.

So it Goes- Mac Miller

You could have the world in the palm of your hand You still might drop it So it goes

I love how he highlights how precarious satisfaction, happiness, and fulfillment can be. Although there’s a sadness to dropping something that was in the palm of your hand, it reminds me that every moment is precious. Every time you feel the world there, in your hand, it’s such a blessing. It’s a gentle perch rather than something to seize. The “so it goes” reminds me that that’s maybe how it’s supposed to be. It wasn’t a mistake on my end to drop it; maybe there never was a way I could have forced it to stay there—it’s just the way it goes. And even if I’m just completely self-justifying losing things, so it goes.

And everybody wanna reach inside your pockets I tell 'em "red light, stop it" Shit, that give me more headaches than alcoholics

Hm, I bring more flavor than all the seasons Winter, spring, summer, fall, the grass is always greener 'til I cut it all Please leave me to my studies, I give you no applause My hands been countin' money, and it's hard to be the boss But somebody gotta do it (it gets so exhausting) Often with the bullshit, but, baby, I been through it Enough for the both of us So come over later and we won't let no one close to us We could be posted up Yeah

So it goes It's like, in every conversation, we the topic This narcissism, more like narcotics So it goes

Everyone knows it’s a huge statement if I say something gives me more headaches than alcoholics. I do feel like some people are reaching inside my pockets, more often than I would like. I’m giving too much. It’s odd cause I always do say “red light, stop it,” yet there must be something about myself that makes it seem like a green light. The grass is always greener till I cut it all--this sounds so much like me that I can’t even. Maybe that’s why. Def don’t appreciate how it seems like I’m the one that’s going through the bullshit, more than one person’s share. But maybe it just is the narcissism that makes me think like this.

My eyes on the enterprise Nine lives, never die, fuck a heaven, I'm still gettin' high Never mind, did I mention I'm fine 'Cause her pussy gettin' wetter when the weather dry Clementine, peelin' off and everyone get left behind I'm only 5'7'' 'cept I'm feelin' like I'm 7'5"

No relaxing, kicking back, this ain't exactly in the plan I can't get no satisfaction, goddamn They sayin' I been gone too long I could just tell 'em fuck you, but that come on too strong My god, it go on and on Just like a circle, I go back to where I'm from

I love Mac Miller’s confidence (even when he’s down). I feel it too. Yet, despite all of that of course, it never goes as planned. It’s hard to be truly happy in your choices. I haven’t been good with choices this past year or so. Guess this past year, I had choices for the first time in a while. Oddly, even though I’m consciously trying to make intentional, balanced decisions, still my god, it does go on and on, just like a circle, I’m back to where I’m from. 

Been listening to some random songs on my spotify radio, alongside my main man Mac Miller, and it’s hilarious how serendipitous it is. Fell in Love with a Girl- The White Stripes followed by Over- Syd feat. 6lack. This kinda stuff makes me laugh out loud. The most impulsive love song ever, reflected in form by how fast-paced and short the song is. It’s perfect. 

Fell in love with a girl

I fell in love once and almost completely She's in love with the world But sometimes, these feelings can be so misleading "Come and kiss me by the riverside, yeah Bobby says it's fine, he don't consider it cheating, now. Can't keep away from the girl These two sides of my brain need to have a meeting Can't think of anything to do, yeah My left brain knows that all love is fleeting

It’s hilarious cause Bobby more often than not totally does think it’s cheating. I’ve loved this song since 2015 and it’s one of those songs that leaves such an impression each time I hear it. One of those forever bops. 

I’m realizing a lot of these random songs I was listening to without really looking at the lyrics were apt in some way. It’s almost as if Spotify now predicts my life, which is some black mirror shit right there. Some petty, fleeting tidbits:

Over- Syd feat. 6lack

Safe to say, I was right You was wrong, that's okay Why would you agree if you ain't build for the drama? I know when shit ain't right You can act if you wanna, girl I don't wanna say too much And I don't wanna make assumptions But lately I've been giving no fucks We don't know what we doing love How we gon' look for help when you don't know yourself?

(As an aside, realizing that 6lack is actually amazing. I thought he was just gonna be a temporary mainstream dude with “Ex Calling” and “PRBLMS” but East Atlanta Love Letter really makes me rethink him as an artist. He says it straight and I don’t even think he’s fronting, which is amazing.)

I did fluctuate between random moments of feeling all these things, albeit of course, very briefly and not as intensely as perhaps these lyrics denote. And yes they’re petty.  But it’s more a sentiment than an actual feeling:  

Loner- Kali Uchis

I just gotta put it out there And maybe it's not deliberate And I know you never asked me I don't want to be an option But if you don't want me now No, boy, I don't want you later Don't try to come and eat with me

Superficial Love- Ruth B.

You're really cute I must admit But I need something deeper than this Baby if you want me, then you better need me 'Cause I'm so done, not being your number one And if you wanna keep me then you better treat me Like a damn princess, make that an empress

This song is a subtle reminder of course that once I’m ready for something, I should be treated like an empress. We forget that sometimes.

I can feel you on my lips all the time But I just wanna feel you in my heart and on my mind

Actually so interesting cause this song is pointedly not how I feel in some ways. Makes me wonder whether what I want is superficial love. Which leads me to:

The Need to Know- Wale feat. Sza

Tryna keep it low Keep 'em on that need to know Tell everybody that we're just friends But to be honest that platonic shit's for TV shows

I'm not tryna pressure you Just can't stop thinkin' 'bout you You ain't even really gotta be my boyfriend I just wanna know your name And maybe some time, we can hook up We can hang out, we can just chill

Again, this song made me laugh today. A causal relationship maybe should be physical, yet here/there we are/ were. 

I know Fletcher means it more seriously and ironically (for good reason), but at the end of the day, despite all the bits of emotion I feel, in the best sense, it’s all love, in the most truly millennial diffusion-of-conflict way possible (All Love- Fletcher).  And to be honest, whatever this is (cause love is a grossly inappropriate word, just a good filler) is just a feeling (Love is Just a Feeling- Joey Badda$$). I was and am def more in the camp of Stwo and Jeremih, (Neither Do I- Stwo and Jeremih) and Drake currently to begin with, so it’s really all good in the end. 

The Motion- Drake

It's not me and you, it's not me it's you Say you're moving on, well, I guess that's just the motion I guess that's just the motion

Yeah, looking back on it, at least my pride is intact 'Cause we said "no strings attached" and I still got tied up in that Try being with somebody that wanna be somebody else I always thought she was perfect when she was being herself Don't even know how to help, but I guess that's just the motion, yeah She'll probably come around Soon as I settle down, that's the motion Oh-oh, I guess that's just the motion

Definitely have some doubts cause platonic shit’s for TV shows, but internally, I feel more settled. Having let it all out and explored all my petty fleeting roller coaster emotions these past few weeks, ultimately, I feel like it was actually a good learning experience, and a reminder of some things I value about myself. It’s a reminder to keep growing, to keep understanding myself, and to know my worth, which may have been a bit hazy these past few months on so many fronts. It’s hard in the moment, but if I look within myself, this is what I wanted and what I had been saying all along. It’s something I’ve never been able to fully execute before and really wanted to this time around, so I’m excited that that’s finally happening. And at least I do have some soft spots to look back on (If The World Was Ending- JP Saxe, Julia Michaels).

I’m excited to be more myself. So it goes, in the best way.

10.26.2019

[comicteaparty]

August 26th-September 1st, 2019 CTP Archive

The archive for the Comic Tea Party week long chat that occurred from August 26th, 2019 to September 1st, 2019.  The chat focused on Principles of Magic by Sarah Hopkins.

Featured Comment:

Chat:

RebelVampire

COMIC TEA PARTY- WEEK LONG BOOK CLUB START!

Hello and welcome everyone to Comic Tea Party’s Week Long Book Club~! This week we’ll be focusing on Principles of Magic by Sarah Hopkins~! (https://principlesofmagic.com/)

You are free to read and comment about the comic all week at your own pace, so stop on by whenever it suits your schedule! Remember, though, that while we allow constructive criticism, our focus is to have fun and appreciate the comic. Below you will find four questions to get you started on the discussion. However, a new question will be posted and pinned everyday (between 12:01AM and 6AM PDT), so keep checking back for more! You have until September 1st to tell us all your wonderful thoughts! With that established, let’s get going on the reading and the chatting!

QUESTION 1. What has been your favorite scene in the comic so far? What specifically did you like about it?

QUESTION 2. Do you believe that girls truly are disproportionately affected by magic in the comic’s world, or do you think it is a form of sexism/old world values? What is your reasoning? What is your overall opinion of how girls are treated in the world?

snuffysam

my favorite scene was the most recent principles of magic lesson - where the girls are having fun & messing around while miss ghelhel just gets angrier at them until she snaps and accidentally uses magic. not only does it show that the "just stamp the magic out of 'em" technique doesn't work, but it shows why the program is dumb in the first place. these girls aren't menaces - they're just kids being kids. some magic like pepper's can be harmful, but lots of fun activities are dangerous. that doesn't mean you have to send kids to a special school for them.

RebelVampire

QUESTION 3. At the moment, who is your favorite character? What about that character earns them this favor?

QUESTION 4. Why do you think magic is so feared in the comic’s world, and why do you think the headmaster in particular wants to stomp it out? What has been your favorite aspect in how magic has been presented in the comic?

Doodyp0p

1. What has been your favorite scene in the comic so far? What specifically did you like about it? I have not read much at all, but I do like the boy crazy reveal. Also the "Please be aware of my deafness" dialogue felt nice to see. Instead of just having a disability to round out characters there's actually confrontation and talk about the struggles. Very good 2. Do you believe that girls truly are disproportionately affected by magic in the comic’s world, or do you think it is a form of sexism/old world values? What is your reasoning? What is your overall opinion of how girls are treated in the world? I can't say just yet with confidence, but I think it is a sexism situation, it feels as though this world generally has a "if it's inconvenient, throw it away" attitude. And maybe there are complications with women and magic naturally, but instead of looking for ways to improve the situation towards equity, the solution is to lock away and hinder their lives.

RebelVampire

QUESTION 5. What has been your favorite illustration in the comic so far? What specifically about it do you like?

QUESTION 6. What moment surrounding the theme of identity and growing up did you enjoy the most and why? Overall, what do you think we can learn from this story in terms of growing up and the way society helps or hinders that?

RebelVampire

1) For my favorite scene, I have to second @Doodyp0p on the part of being aware of the deafness. I really just liked how natural the interaction felt. Since it portrayed both sides in kind of a not evil light. Since it's not like Pepper and Avery were ignoring Charlie on purpose. So I like the story showed there was a middle ground. You can confront someone, but also show that sometimes ppl aren't being jerks on purpose. Sometimes they just aren't in your shoes and aware of how their actions are hurting. So I appreciate this scene for being able to capture both sides in a relateable way. 2) Honestly, I'm not sure in regards to girls being disproportionately affected. On a surface level, we haven't seen or heard of any guys with magic yet really on a significant level, so it can be argued that they are being disproportionately affected. but on the other hand, I would not be surprised if they just had a different word for it when it affected men. Like "Enhanced Traits" or some bs like that. I do think regardless there is a degree of sexism at work though. So even if there is disproportionate affects to girls, the society is probably using it as an excuse to make dumb, oppresive rules. Which that is my opinion of the world. Old world sexism at its worst/best.

3) My favorite character is probably Avery. This selfishly just has a lot to do with personality. I find Pepper and Charlie to be too energetic and in your face. Which don't get me wrong, I like them, but if I was in Avery's shoes I'd be so overwhelmed by them. But then here's nice Avery just calm, polite, and coming at you with some nice plant powers. She is a breath of fresh calmness. 4) Magic is feared, because people throughout history really struggle with the line between respect and fear. For example, cars. You gotta respect the power of cars, cause while they're cool, they're also likely to kill you if misused. This is why we have rules, regulations, and so forth. Because while a great tool, its dangerous. So we respect cars for that reason. Magic is kind of the same way. Magic is cool, powerful, great tool, but if people wanted to, they could use it for some really bad destructive shit. Like even inviso girl could turn invisible and rob a bank, and that's bad. The problem is, too often, that respect for the power becomes fear, because people have a bias towards seeing the negative side and thinking "but what if." So in general here, I think this is just societal panic and bias at work. They fear is cause they ask themselves what if too much and imagine death instead of cool stuff. As for the headmaster's vendetta, eh, probably just actually thinks hes doing a good thing from the viewpoint of society. My favorite aspect of magic is actually how they made a small mention of hunting cause its a good way to tie in the concept of witch hunts with the world and such.

RebelVampire

5) My favorite illustration is probably the bottom half of this page. https://principlesofmagic.com/comic/page-67/ I really liked the emotional montage here and how each situation was framed. I think it really expresses isolation in each picture, so as a whole you can really get the emotional sense of that, which in turn adds to the dialogue. 6) In terms of growing up, I actually liked the moment after the girls realize that stomping out magic is a crock and that the adults are full of bullshit and just kind of denying parts of who they are. Cause honestly, I think this is an important lesson to life. Just cause someone is an adult, doesn't mean they know whats best for society or even just for you. And half the times adults don't even really know what they're doing; they're just flailing around with power hoping something sticks and makes things better. But in the end, this can hinder growing up healthy, because so many kids put like 100% trust into adults, and honestly, that's not good. Not to say complete distrust is good either, but it' just good to remember that the adults don't actually always know what's best for anyone.

RebelVampire

QUESTION 7. Which characters do you enjoy seeing interact the most? What about their dynamic interests you?

QUESTION 8. What do you think Pepper, Avery, and Charlie will do to try and save other girls from being imprisoned like them? Do you think they can actually succeed in stopping it, or will their efforts be in vain? What will be the consequences of their efforts?

Doodyp0p

3. At the moment, who is your favorite character? What about that character earns them this favor? Charlie, just enough spunk to sweet ratio. 4. Why do you think magic is so feared in the comic’s world, and why do you think the headmaster in particular wants to stomp it out? What has been your favorite aspect in how magic has been presented in the comic? Control I imagine is where is fear stems. There's a big gap as to what people can do with or without magic and the people without likely are afraid of being put in a submissive role with no freedoms. Headmaster feels like the type to be about money, likely sees a big government envelope with dollar signs stamped all over it.

5. What has been your favorite illustration in the comic so far? What specifically about it do you like? https://principlesofmagic.com/comic/page-75/ The page has hardly any script but I feel like the cuts and pacing gives you a lot. You can hear the words in their heads.(edited)

RebelVampire

7) Right now, I actually enjoy the headmaster and Aurelie interacting the most. Mostly because I can't make heads or tales of what their relationship is. Do they like each other? Do they hate each other? I just don't know, so I like exploring it so we can put a label on it someday and come to a better understand of what their relationship is. 8) First thing I think will happen is Pepper will set fire to the headmasters office thinking, "He can't work if he has no office." And then the headmaster will make due. But after that, maybe they'll form a secret club. Kind of like what happened in HP Order of the Phoenix. Just with less lightning scars and more girls trying to better control their magic in a different way. As for stopping it, eh, I don't know. I think that depends on if they can get an influential adult involved. Cause magic or not, they're still kids and people aren't apt to listen to children, I'm sad to say. They're definitely going to become notorious in society though, even if it's as a group rather than individuals.

snuffysam

My favorite interactions are between Charlie and Pepper. They've clearly been friends for a while, and it's cool to see them stick up for each other. For (6), I just think the use of magic as allegory for anything society sees as "defective" is very clever in general. There's nothing wrong with you, it's just society's fault for not accepting you. I think that's a lesson we can all learn from, even if magic isn't the specific reason society is against you.

RebelVampire

QUESTION 9. What sorts of art or story details have you noticed in the way the comic is crafted that you think deserves attention?

QUESTION 10. What do you think Aurelie’s backstory is given her outbursts of magic, her close relationship with the headmaster, and so forth? Do you think Aurelie could be persuaded to help the girls fight oppression? Overall, what do you think Aurelie’s role will be?

RebelVampire

9) A detail I appreciate is just how everyone's powers are a bit different. That takes a lot of creativity to have since it can actually be easy to blend powers too much if youre not careful about showing their inidividual traits. So I like seeing the variety. 10) I honestly think Aurelie was somewhat like Pepper, tbh. Rambunctious with her powers, defying authority, etc. But then one day I feel like she actually hurt someone badly or something. Not enough to get her in major trouble, but enough to leave an emotional scar on her. So she came to accept that maybe magic really was dangerous. However, I definitely think she can be persuaded to help fight the headmaster's plan, since she seems the most likely to become disillusioned that the system works.

RebelVampire

QUESTION 11. What do you think are this particular comic's strengths? What do you think makes this comic unique? Please elaborate. QUESTION 12. What moment or implication of oppression seen in the comic caught your attention the most? What about it caught your eye, and why do you think the moment/implication is important to consider?

RebelVampire

QUESTION 13. What are you most looking forward to in the comic? Also, do you have any final thoughts to share overall?

QUESTION 14. Given Pepper, Avery, and Charlie’s differing personalities, in what ways do you think the trio will clash? How will those clashes present obstacles as the story goes on? Also, what roles do you think their backstories will play?

11) I think the comic’s strengths are honestly just how it portrays society and how those portrayals. Like it’s not afraid to be really cold and factual about it, showing things like corporal punishment and the like. The way each of these moments flows is really superb as well, since there’s often no to very little dialogue, which lets you take in the horrors of the moment. There aren’t a lot of comics out there that manage to make me feel uncomfortable and unsettled (in good, intended ways), but this comic managed to do it. Cause I felt very uncomfortable and upset at a lot of scenes. 12) Honestly, the moment of oppression that caught my attention was probably the corporal punishment. Which I’m sure isn’t limited to girls, but is certainly a way to oppress “free-thinking” with children in a lot of ways. It was honestly a gruesome scene despite there being no blood. I think the part that really got me was when she was told to turn her arms over. Cause that facial expression, just dang. No forgiveness on the teacher’s part, full acceptance she has no power. It was uncomfortable and horrible. As for why it’s important to consider, because the obvious reason. Physically hurting someone is never right, and is generally a shitty way to discipline children because children tend to just rebel or fail to thrive when subjected to these sorts of things. And even if it’s an obvious lesson, since child abuse still is a thing that exists, it’s apparently not obvious enough. 13) I’m actually looking forward to finding out more about the girls’ home lives before they came to the school. I think it’ll be an interesting moment of character development that I’m hoping is delved into. Otherwise, I’m looking forward to learning more about how young boys are treated in the society. Cause I think that will be very telling how much is fear of magic, how much is sexism, and how much is somewhere in between.

14) I think there is potential for each of them to clash with the other two as a group. Like for example, Charlie will once again be faced with the fact that Pepper and Avery have an easier time talking and leave her out of things. Avery will be overwhelmed and not always want to take the aggressive, war root that it seems like Pepper and Charlie would want to. Meanwhile Pepper will see the other two as not being as dedicated to stopping the headmaster as the other two, if only cause Pepper strikes me as the type to consider inaction as the worst thing possible even when sometimes it is the best route to take for a short amount of time. So I think this will definitely sabotage their efforts on occasions since personal drama always gets in the way of productivity. As for their backstories, I don’t know about Avery and Charlie, but I feel like Pepper’s got some secret she’s not saying that will come up. Though I can’t imagine what it’d be. It’s more just a gut feeling given her personality.

RebelVampire

COMIC TEA PARTY- WEEK LONG BOOK CLUB END!

Thank you everyone so much for reading and chatting about Principles of Magic this week! Please also give a special thank you to Sarah Hopkins for volunteering the comic and creating it! If you liked Principles of Magic, make sure to continue to support it via some of the links below!

Read and Comment: https://principlesofmagic.com/

Sarah’s Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/sarahmhop

Principles of Magic’s Twitter: https://twitter.com/pomwebcomic?lang=en

Sarah’s Twitter: https://twitter.com/sarahmhop

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #book club #bookclub #webcomic book club #webcomic bookclub #comic tea party #ctp #principles of magic #sarah hopkins

[fire-fira]

Fic Writer Meme: 5, 8, 9, 17, 25, 38, 40.

5) Share one of your strengths.

I’m really good at getting into the headspace of characters and letting their voices and their emotions lead the story. (For me the emotions in a story are one of the most important details, so I put a lot of focus on it.)

8) Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

This one was really hard actually, and I couldn’t make up my mind between two scenes (from [Birthday Surprises are Hard When Your Partners are Attached at the Spine] and [Janus: Long Before Me]), so I decided to include both. 

Jaimesnapped his head to try to glance over his shoulder at the scarab. “You were in on this?!”

[Affirmative,] Khaji Da answeredsmugly.

“Dios mio! You mean to tell me that this whole day of being completely run into the ground was the set up for this?!” he squawked. His dad looked likehe was trying not to laugh.

“Onlyparts of it,” Tim answered, “Though Barry making sure you were stranded inMetropolis for a bit was definitely part of it.”

Jaimelet out a groan as he facepalmed. “All of you nearly killed me. Were you tryingto kill me? Because you nearly killed me.”

“Wehad to make sure you were distracted so we could set things up though,” Bartprotested, turning big puppy eyes on Jaime.

Jaimefroze, dropped his hand, and looked at Bart suspiciously. There was somethingmore going on here. If it had been a matter of a surprise party at his house orsomewhere in town it wouldn’t have required thatmuch effort and distraction. It was then that he noticed the packed luggageoff to the side— not enough for all of them, but certainly enough for Jaime andhis family. “What did you do?” he asked warily.

“It’snot what I did!” Bart said beforemotioning to Kon, “It’s more what he was up to.” Jaime turned his attention toKon and raised an eyebrow.

Konraked a hand through his hair, the keys in his other hand stilling as heanswered. “It’s more like what my dad did…” At Jaime’s questioning look headded, “My other dad.”

Understandingdawned. Lex Luthor was not known for doing anything halfway. The man might technically beknown by all members of the League as a supervillain, but over the years it hadbecome painfully obvious that he saw Kon as his son and would do just aboutanything to make sure that kryptonian/human hybrid never lacked for anything.In fact there had been several plans Kon had managed to talk him down from onthe basis that said plans would ‘negatively impact’ and make thingsunnecessarily difficult for him. And if Kon had dragged Lex Luthor into this, then these birthday plans had probably gotteninsanely out of hand.

“…Whatdid he do?” Jaime asked cautiously, almost dreading the answer.

Konshrugged, entirely too relaxed about the idea of having gotten his (‘supervillain’) father to help out with Bart’s plans for Jaime’s birthdayparty. “Nothing less than reserving an entire small island resort with fullamenities for all of us for the entire weekend and arranging to have a privatejet waiting at the airport to take us there.”

Jaimestared. “What?”

“You heard me,” Konsmirked.

Dr. Bruckheimer might have frowned. He didn’t care really. “You aren’t… You’re not… Don’t you have any understanding that you’re not in control here?!”

“Don’t you and the others have any understanding that I don’t particularly care, and in that sense I have every last ounce of control I could possibly need?” he returned casually.

“You just-” Dr. Bruckheimer sputtered for a moment or two before forcing himself to regain control. “Look… We need to know. We need to know if your capabilities are what we think they are.”

“Or?” the hybrid asked, unimpressed, “What? You and the others will ‘terminate’ me? You’ll forgive me if that doesn’t seem like much of a threat considering that that is clearly what happened to those who came before me.”

“Don’t you care that if you don’t work with us then you’ll be terminated?” Dr. Bruckheimer finally squawked in disbelief, far too disturbed by the hybrid to restrain himself any further. “Don’t you care that you’ll be deemed a failure, terminated, and most likely dissected if you don’t cooperate?” Apparently the scientist didn’t care anymore that he was giving the hybrid information he wasn’t supposed to. Hilarious. Amazing what causing a world-class freak-out could accomplish.

He was silent, an aloof expression on his face as if he was contemplating a mildly confusing but engaging riddle for a minute or two. Finally he deliberately locked eyes with the scientist; he knew it would creep the man out and he had decided now was the moment to show-case a maximum creep-out factor. “No.”

“No? No?!” The man was clearly distressed.

“Do you want to know why?” he asked, his head tilting to the side curiously.

“KR 10, stop it,” Dr. Bruckheimer demanded with an edge of panic as he shoved himself away from the table. Clearly the hybrid had gotten under his skin more than he’d expected. Good. Still… that damned designation though…

Milky pale-blue blind eyes remained fixed on the face they couldn’t see. The hybrid, in full-blown ‘Lex mode,’ coldly stated, “That’s not my name.”

“KR 10,” Dr. Bruckheimer said warningly, both trying to hold his ground and back away to the door.

“My name is Kaizhidime, for the record,” he calmly said, deliberately using the Kryptonian pronunciation of Kaiz-hihd-ihm-ey. Not that they’d know or appreciate the ingenuity of it without his providing an explanation. “A Kryptonian god. You might consider the concept rather similar to that of the Ancient Roman god Janus; the one who looks into both past and future and is the god of beginnings and endings. Well, among various other things, but those were the most apt for my own circumstances.” There was a bit of an echo of Lex’s fascination with all things Ancient Greek to the hybrid’s tone.

Dr. Bruckheimer had backed against the doorway, and the whole way Kaizhidime had kept his blind blue eyes locked on the man. “This is not happening,” the scientist said in a panicked whisper before protesting more loudly, “You can’t even see!”

Kaizhidime gave a wicked smile that Lex Luthor would be proud of. “Not in the present, no. But in the past or the future? My vision is better than 20/20. Should I tell you where you left your keycard this morning? Or what happened to your car last week? Or would you think it more considerate if I let you know about what’s going to happen tomorrow? It’s quite a set-back too. Not as much of a set-back as one of the next ones will be though. When he gets loose in the lab that’s going to be a really nasty bloodbath. I hope by then Cadmus labs is stocked up on hydrogen peroxide— I hear that’s the quickest way to get rid of blood on anything.”

As for why I’m proud of these scenes: There’s just something hilarious about Jaime being a complete flustered wreck with everyone being in on a surprise for him that I find immensely satisfying. (Plus Hawaiian-adopted Kon who has a good relationship with Lex is pretty much my favorite version of Kon ever.) And I can’t help but be proud of how much of a devious little shit Kon’s older brother Kai (my OC) is and how successfully he can creep people out when he wants to.

That, and in both instances I feel like there’s a very clear representation of the characters involved. n.n

9) Which fic has been the hardest to write?

THE LONG ONES. I have several long fics going right now, but has been taking me forever to get through them. XP

So many ideas, and not enough time available to spend on marathon-writing.

17) Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

It’s almost always start-to-finish. Then again I have an idea of some events I want to have happen before I start writing or as I’m writing (I get random ideas for scenes that play out in my head several times over before I write them), and it’s usually a matter of writing the story and filling in details to get those scenes in. Occasionally (very rarely) I’ll have instances where I have to go back in a narrative and add in extra scenes to flesh things out a little (which is actually going on with my giant introductory Devilfish fic), but instances like that are on the rarer side.

25) What do you look for in a beta?

I almost never have a beta to be honest. Mainly because I have really high standards for my own writing and I have a long-standing habit of editing as I go along. I write large chunks, and then I have a habit of going back and reading through what I have and doing minor tweaks as I feel is needed before continuing on. (By the time I’ve posted a fic I’ve probably at least read it in full something close to fifty times– if I include collectively all the random instances of chunks of back-reading.)

So I would probably be a pain for a beta to deal with, tbh.

38) Talk about a review that made your day.

Okay, not gonna lie: Best review I ever got? Someone told me that they had been in an abusive relationship and that reading I Tried To Warn You helped them realize it was abusive and they got out. My fic helped someone get out of an abusive relationship. I’m STILL giddy and overjoyed about that and it’s almost been a year.

40) Write an alternative ending to [insert fic title] (or just the summary of one).

(Since you left it up to me, here’s an alternate ending to [Cinders in a Late Night, Burning Bright].)

“I should go,” Bart said awkwardly, not wanting to leave.

“I know,” Jaime agreed, not wanting Bart to leave. He walked his husband-to-be to the door and paused with his door on the handle. “Goodnight?”

Bart considered for a moment before pressing a quick kiss to Jaime’s cheek. “…That was for both of you,” he said with gentle smile. He lingered, reluctant to leave and tempted to do more.

Jaime was suddenly, intensely, aware of just how close they were. He felt torn between the desire to kiss Bart and the knowledge that if he did and anyone found out he was being ‘overly intimate’ with his fiance before they were married that it would be a fiasco. But Bart was just so—

[Jaime Reyes, reminder: breathe.]

Jaime didn’t bother fighting the love-struck smile that crept onto his face, earning a beaming smile in turn from Bart.

The sound of a politely cleared throat prompted them to whip their heads toward the open door to see Ángel discretely blocking the doorway to prevent them from being seen. They raised an eyebrow at Jaime and Bart’s flustered expressions and they rocketed apart, and at the sight of Jaime’s open-hanging robe. When they spoke, Ángel’s tone was politely respectful, but clearly amused.“I take it, Your Majesty, visits from your betrothed are to be encouraged?”

Bart turned beet-red and buried his face in his hands as he mumbled, “Oh maaannnn… Kill me now.”

Jaime sputtered for a moment before he was able to collect himself and wrapped his robe a little more tightly. “We-well, maybe not so late. I mean, it wasn’t all that late, but maybe not when it’s late and I’m in the—”

Ángel looked decidedly amused and closed the door. “Encouraged when the three of you can get away with it then.”

Bart almost choked. “I, ah, um… Should I go? I think I should probably go…”

Suddenly there was that thoughtful drumming sensation around Jaime’s spine; Jaime almost wanted to groan. [Query: the Ángel Hárvarðr is implying they would help us keep ‘scandalous’ visits like this one secret. Does this extend to greater involvement?]

Jaime didn’t even need any images to flash through his mind to know what Khaji Da was hinting at as he turned about as red as was humanly possible. “Oh my GOD! Khaji Da! Shut up!”

#author meme #meme #my fiction #long post

[cassatine]

Hi Cassiopeia. I don't have a tumblr account but I wanted to thank you for your essay on the Whills. It's an amazing read! How did you find all of this? I also wanted to know if you intend to cover the new canon as well.

Thanks anon, I’m glad you liked it! I’ve started on the new canon, but it’ll take a while. 

As to how I found it all - well, it’d be more apt to say I gathered it, because a lot of the founding had long been done by the time I got into the question. At the top of my head, some of the resources i used:

the folks at starkiller have made the drafts available  

fan-written histories of the franchise; i favour the excellent one by Kaminski because it’s great research and there’s real sourcing. 

Rinzler’s Making Ofs are very informative, but in comparison with Kaminski the sourcing sucks (for ANH, it’s too often impossible to know which comments from Lucas come from the 70s Lippincott interviews and which were made later BECAUSE THERE ARE NO SOURCES its very frustrating). 

there’s also more and more digitized old magazines (though fanzine are still hard to get a hold of, which is a shame; they’d be a great complement to the corpus). 

fanlore could have been of great use but without access to the fanzines they refer to, well. 

wookiepedia is a great starting point wrt sources. 

r/starwarsreference and swinfoground are useful as well, particularly for the new canon. 

for context… well, histories of the franchise again; fandom studies like Will Brooker’s; i’ll add Jambe Davdar’s filmumentaries and SW Deleted Magic because they’re classics; 

a lot of browsing more or less old websites

there’s probably stuff i’m forgetting in the bibliography

And now I’m about to get Technical kind of

Okay so basically what I did was a simplified version of an in-depth historiography study (i say simplified because i’ve not tried to get testimonies or interview people among other things, and overall the reception aspect is very lacking re: the fanzines. plus no database SHAME ON ME). I started with a basic periodization, which looked kind like that:

SW Prehistory

1977(ANH)

1977-1987First Legends Era (// OT)

1987-1991Second Legends Era (post OT. WEG time)

1991-1999Third Legends Era (Renaissance)

(Special Editions) The First Canonpocalypse

1999(TPM) The Second Canonpocalypse

1999-2008Third Legends Era

2008(Clone Wars) The Third Canonpocalypse

2008-2014Fourth Legends Era

2014CANONPOCALYPSE THE GREATER

I say kind of, because it’s evolved since, and this is a shortened, simplified version of its current state. It didn’t need to be particularly detailed at first, but it gave me a rough timeline to superpose the references to the Whills to, putting them in the wider context of the franchise’s history. The time-span to cover was easy to decide on, since there’s a beginning with the drafts (having a beginning is awesome - professionally i usually had a first documented instance, which is definitely not the same). 

In the earlier versions of the meta, I talked about the new canon a bit - i wrote the first version either in December 2015 or early in 2016, after having seen the quote in the TFA novelization. I rewrote it just before Rogue One came out, bolstered by the reference to a Temple of the Whills in the Galactic Atlas.

When I started on the latest version like five months ago, I intended to revise in-depth and update with the new stuff, but I realized I needed to have a clear break between the old and the new early on. I also decided, much later, not to include the Clone Wars content in Part One as well, because discussing it led to new canon too much. 

So that’s for the time-span. I have another reason for mentioning that i’m at the third version: I didn’t find it all in one go, so when I talk process, it’s things I did over and over, going deeper every time. I also approached the third version much more seriously, so that’s where I really got thorough. 

Basically I went hunting for references to the Whills - primary sources first, then official secondary sources and finally all the second hand stuff. I did it out of order tbh, but the idea was to note who said what and when, in which capacity and in what context; what was primary source and what was second-hand or third or nth-hand. Sift through fact and opinion. Contextualize all that. 

The aim was to answer two questions; what had really been said about the Whills over the years and in what context, and how that had been received. And insofar as that was possible, why it’d been received that way. Why is always the tricky question. 

From there it’s just - well I’m not going to say it’s just logic because I’ve been trained to do this kind of research, but it’s a lot of logic. And being thorough. I can’t stress that enough. Sometimes the key to a question is in an obscure interview you didn’t look up the first time and then you feel really stupid for not having looked it up earlier (I speak from experience).

#cass writes things #hum i hope that answers your question anon #i wasn't sure what you were asking truth be told #so i took the occasion to prattle #anon #ask

[williambriar]

Entering a Maze of Fears

Several days ago, I asked my creative friends on Facebook which of their works defined them best. I learned something about each of them from their answers, but it was the question one asked me in return which led me to learn the most about myself. An author I admire both personally and professionally expressed a desire to read more of my work and wanted to know if I planned to write any more in the future. I can't paraphrase what I said to her now because it wasn't memorable. I know it wasn't a lie. Of course, I plan to write; I just rarely get around to doing so.

I complete shopping lists, hand in reams of homework notes, and pen posts like this on a semi-regular basis. I've also managed to write two classes of what I'd consider a decent length over the last year. Despite that, none of those accomplishments are what I mean when I talk about my writing. I don't believe my friend was referring to any of those things, either. Fiction remains my first love, and I suspect it is the same with her. Why, then, am I not writing it?

I want to blame my body. I've been diagnosed with more conditions over the last ten years than I can count on both hands, and many of them make it difficult to sit at a keyboard for long periods. Luckily enough, there's almost always an app for that. Technology isn't perfect, but it has provided me with numerous workarounds for my health problems. I often ignore them—and my writing—to do other things. When my conscience gnaws at me, I'm still apt to say fibromyalgia or carpal tunnel are at fault, even though I know I shouldn't. I'm a magician, for Pete's sake. I understand mind over matter. I'm also damned stubborn. When a doctor once told me I'd never lose weight, I walked out of his clinic and forced myself to shed 150 pounds. I struggle to keep it off, but I know I can do it. I know I could conquer the other physical problems keeping me from writing too—if I really wanted to do so.

Part of me must want it. My family frequently asks me if I'm brooding over something due to my faraway look, and I'll have to admit I'm writing novels in my head. When on the treadmill or out for a walk by myself, I play the same albums over and over and watch as stories unfold in time with the soundtrack thundering in my headphones. Long ago, I'd hurry back to my desk to jot these tales down, but now I don't bother. After I get the first few lines down on paper, the words twist back on themselves like snakes. I can't see my way through to the end of the plotlines like I once did.

I've always used outlines for my novels, sometimes creating them in such detail that I could have considered my rough notes my first draft. In my mind, however, that was only research: the scratching in the dirt meant to help me eventually race across the finish line. Somehow my characters still found room for improvisation, and I loved the times when they had become so real they surprised me with their actions. How could that happen when I had put so much of myself into them? After all, aren't writers supposed to write what we know? The last book I tried to write proved I didn't know myself so well after all. About four years ago, I named a character after myself, using a nickname only close family members knew. I don't know why other than the fact I felt I could edit out such lazy writing later. He wasn't meant to be the main character, anyway. In my mind, he was a plot device meant to bring the two protagonists together. Just to make sure I'd hate him enough that he would disappear into the scenery, I gave him every one of my faults, only bigger. Yet he refused to go away.

First, he wandered from my script and then he bucked my characterization. He kept all the flaws I'd created for him and came up with a few new whoppers along the way, but I began to despise him for an entirely different reason. He made me feel. He'd become overwhelmed and I'd end up blinking back tears. He'd face something he found frightening and my stomach would knot with dread. The thing is, he hadn't even faced the monster yet. That far into the novel, I hardly knew who or what the monster was. My outline had been a tad vague on that subject this time around. I figured the beast the characters faced at the end of the book would play second fiddle to the one in their heads. When the main characters descended into the labyrinth to confront their personal Minotaurs, I hadn't thought this character important enough to join them, yet there I was, too afraid to keep writing his story because I'd discovered I was journeying down into myself. Without planning it, the novel had become shadow-work, and I was afraid to confront the ending. As a magician and a person, I was terrified of what I would learn and become.

I stopped writing the novel. I stopped writing everything, except for bits and blogs and shopping lists. I continued to call myself a writer. It sat badly with me, knowing how little fiction I still produced, enough so that I've put artist first in my description here. It must sit badly with some of the spirits I work with too, since Amaymon recently gave me a tongue lashing about only using labels I feel I deserve. He knows how I hate feeling like a poser.

I suppose that is why prayers to my patron about what I should do in March for the #domagick challenge were answered with nightmares about fighting my way to the center of a labyrinth, endlessly building a labyrinth, or scaling a labyrinth wall. When I was so coy as to ask if he meant I should work with maze-related spirits, I swear I heard my patron's eyes roll all the way from the astral plane. Since then, all I've gotten from him is silence. He doesn't enjoy speaking to the purposely obtuse. Neither did Seere last week. I know if I keep being so stupid they'll stop talking to me altogether. It's happened before.

They won't tell me what to do in March—or at all. The nagging voice in the back of my head is entirely my own, and the knowledge that I must decide how to fix this mess gnaws at me. It's why I'm so frequently out of sorts. It's why I feel trapped all the time. I cannot blame a failing body I cannot escape, or even a series of unfortunate circumstances. I was the one that turned my back on writing, and by doing so I was the one that chained me here. With writing, I could go anywhere and do anything I wanted. The price to be paid was knowing myself a little bit better after every voyage, and it was a price I'd finally found too high.

It seems I've paid it anyway by not writing, only in smaller increments and with a different currency. Instead of whatever terrible secret about myself I once hoped to avoid, I have learned I was cowardly--that I am still a coward. I am no more eager to write myself to the center of that maze than I once was. Truthfully, I sometimes wonder if I am still capable of following that particular thread to my Minotaur again. Surely he awaits me in other stories, should I be brave enough to venture into them, but I realize the walls on that novel may have long crumbled. Knowing they could lie in ruins gives me little comfort. New tales could trap me just as easily.

Aren't we all afraid of being trapped in a cycle of pain at one time or another? I worry I will start to write and get swamped with emotion again. I fear a dam will break inside me and I will not be able to hold back the flood of tears or terror that follows. Friends have said similar things to me when they have been frightened about opening up, and I have assured them such strong feelings will pass. Yet what about the damage in the meantime? I have no idea how I could handle this within the context of a thirty-day challenge.

Perhaps that is it. I can't. I can't put a timeline on it. I know I can turn to the spirits I work with for help, if only to ask for the courage to finally tackle this problem. I know the courage is somewhere deep within me, just like I know talking about all this is the first step towards finding a solution.

The first step towards the center of the labyrinth...

#domagick #demons #seere #occult