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shantechni · 9 months

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"2012 Mikey is Abused" and other constant complaints that, quite frankly, don't make sense

Since one Reddit user (who shall remain anonymous) inadvertently made me type out an essay I intended to write and post in a more coherent manner at a later date, I will be using their comment and my response.

Anyways, the comment itself starts off fairly normal and agreeable:

But then I see the next three points and my sleep-deprived mind just goes off the rails, so let's start with the second point:

Let me preface this by saying I absolutely do not condone the writing here because everyone under the sun will agree that we could've easily had the "Karai is our sister!?" plot twist without Leo and Karai briefly developing feelings for each other.

The problem is that this brief development of feelings is wildly blown out of proportion by the fandom, so much so that it makes it seem as though Leo and Karai actually had anything legitimate going on between them.

The "incest-eqsue garbage" between Leo and Karai is almost nonexistent outside of the writing room. They openly crush on each other for a whopping six episodes by way of verbally teasing each other and being at odds before Karai tells Leo that she's the Shredder's daughter. That's it. He is not pursuing her after that (hardly ever did, not even to the extent that Donnie pursues April) and Karai isn't remotely fond of him anymore after he broke their deal. Then, after we find out alongside Splinter that she's actually his daughter, he tells Leo towards the end of Follow the Leader. We don't get a reaction, actually nothing on Leo's side since the Foot Clan is mostly absent with April being the main point of conflict, even in Target: April O'Neil because April's forgiveness of the turtles is the main focus.

Leo eventually attempts to tell Karai the truth in Wormquake! and The Manhattan Project and she obviously doesn't believe the poor guy, she just wants to kill the turtles and Splinter at this point. Leo doesn't tell her because "he still likes her", but because, in his own words, it would change everything. She deserves to know the truth and Splinter shouldn't have his own daughter cursing him at every waking moment. When she tricks the gang into bringing her to the lair under the guise of her finally accepting the truth, Leo is ecstatic and his first thought is for her and Splinter to make amends. He's upset that Raph still can't fully trust her in the end when she fought alongside them (who can blame Raph though, he's cradling an unconscious brother after a plan gone awry), and that's the end of that.

They dedicate two episodes to the guys attempting to rescue her because Leo has enough brain cells to worry about what the Shredder could be doing with her, and Raph makes a jab at Leo on one instance when they find her (there is absolutely no romantic undertone, Raph just picks at his old crush on her and their tendency to tease each other at the worst times). Then, when she wants to get back at the Shredder for ripping her away from a life she never knew was her's, Leo attempts to aid her because he knows it isn't wise to face someone like that alone, especially with his henchmen there.

There's one last self-aware jab at their past feelings in S5, of which Karai awkwardly remembers and forgoes mentioning, and that's the last you see or hear of that.

As much as I dislike it, I'd take this narrative over the Donnie-April-Casey hurricane any day.

It seems that 2012 Mikey's mere existence is a sore spot for fans because Jesus Christ this gets brought up way too much.

Mikey is not written as a complete idiot, he's written as someone who doesn't see a reason to take everything so seriously, has odd habits, and doesn't always think things through, yet is shown to be highly capable and intelligent when the situation calls for it. Yes the writers left much to be desired at times, but to say they wrote him to be a "complete idiot" and left it at that is just offensive. I'll ignore all the miraculous things Mikey can do with Kraang stuff and Dimension X and focus on what other things he's shown to be capable of.

Mikey was a temporary learning model for Donnie in how to fight without thinking, or in better terms, how to fight instinctually without becoming bogged down by your own mind. Splinter's lesson is shown in a comedic manner, but that's ultimately what helped Donnie defeat Falco.

Another interesting thing is his ability to keep his composure when no one else around him can do so. I mentioned this briefly in another post, but it really stands out to me how he put Leo at the top of his priority list in Invasion Part 2. He's as worried for Splinter as Raph and Donnie are, but they have with them a crippled and unconcious Leo who needs medical attention asap, compared to martial arts master Splinter who's older and wiser than the three of them combined at times. Even when they eventually find Splinter and lose him, he keeps the gang in line by reminding them, as well as himself, that Splinter can take care of himself.

Along with that is when Splinter was kidnapped in The Manhattan Project. Mikey was quick to intervene when Raph was angry with Leo for allowing Tiger Claw to coax him into calling Splinter, and he reminded the two of the problem at hand: they have Splinter, let's go find him and take him back. There are so many other moments when he becomes the levelheaded one in response to the chaos or disorder surrounding him.

Mikey is a highly skilled fighter, he's emotionally intelligent, he remembers the weirdest things that eventually aid the team, he's street smart, he's a fast learner (ex: Bradford's secret kata, as well as the temporary use of the plasma katana in Target: April O'Neil), he's great at distracting enemies without needing to become bait, he gets insecure about things, he has photographic memory, he's the most outgoing of his brothers and therefore ends up with the most friends, he's quick to adapt to a situation and think of a plan, he can throw together seemingly random ingredients to create exactly what Donnie would struggle to create, he knew exactly what to do to find Casey after his run-in with Tiger Claw, the list goes on.

Heck, just to add to this, Mikey is the one who saves the day in three separate stories in S5. 1) His temporary electric powers save the world from Dregg and the Newtralizer, 2) he convinced Frankenstein's monster to join their side, retrieved the scepter from Savanti and Dracula (he accidentally broke the scepter while he was at it, but that helped) and cured Raph and Donnie of their vampirism, and 3) he was the one who repaired Kavaxas' seal and made him reopen the portal to the Netherworld so the dead could return.

The brothers don't always take him as seriously as they should or listen to him, and that's understandable at times, but when they do, they're reminded of the fact that Mikey, in his own way, is intelligent.

If I had a dime for every comment I've seen about this, I'd be rich enough to buy the TMNT series from Viacom and right every wrong they made with the 2012 series.

These abuse allegations are as bad as people putting Markiplier in the same tweet as problematic Youtubers and saying something wild like, "these content creators should've been cancelled a long time ago." I feel like people who say the brothers abuse Mikey are either an only child or genuinely have a warped sense for what actually counts as abuse, and I'm not even trying to be mean, those are just my thoughts. I shouldn't even have to comment on this, but the fact that people are still seriously believing that to this day is shocking.

Would you also like to say that Raph was abused in Turtle Temper when Splinter had the boys ceaselessly taunt him in that little exercise? Or that the boys abused Raph everytime they downplayed his anger? Or that Raph abused Donnie by threatening to hit him if he didn't find Snakeweed's hideout? Or that Leo abused Donnie everytime he stressed him out by rushing him for answers? Or that Donnie abused Mikey because Mikey flinched 2cm to the right when Donnie raised his hand to playfully knock at his noggin? Or that Leo was abused by the team because they took forever to view him as their leader? Or that Splinter abused the boys because he was "too rough" on them during training?? Or that April abused Donnie because she "constantly led him on"? Or that Xever and Bradford abused Baxter???

I'm losing my mind over here

Mikey is never physically or emotionally abused by his brothers, the show speaks for itself. But if you somehow aren't listening, go look up a textbook example of abuse, or better yet, look at Karai.

Abuse is the Shredder locking Karai in a dungeon when she tries to escape to her real family and going so far to become a peak manipulator by saying Karai was hurting him by making him lock her away. Worse than that, he starts brainwashing her with mind controlling worms so she has no choice but to obey him. Even before then, he's lowkey uncaring of her wellbeing: he treats her like any other soldier of his and doesn't listen to her when she tries to tell him something. He doesn't address her concerns about the Foot bots nearly finishing her off, instead telling her, "disobedience comes with a stiff penalty, especially for my daughter," when she objects to him telling her not to take action against the turtles while he's gone.

He only ever pays her any attention or gives her praise when it benefits him and his vendetta against Splinter.

Splinter and the turtles are the farthest thing from the image of a family filled with abusers. Raph openly apologizes to Mikey when Splinter tells him to stop picking at him in Shellacne, Raph comforts Donnie when the brainiac is somber after forcing Timothy into the equivalent of a cold sleep, Raph apologizes when his anger gets the better of him and he hits Leo harder than intended, Donnie apologizes when he realizes he shouldn't insult Raph when the guy is visibly upset, Leo regrets doubting Donnie about Metalhead, etc., etc.

Even beyond apologies, Raph is the quickest to entertain Mikey and vice versa during a mundane moment, Donnie never kicks Mikey out of the lab, Leo plays around with Mikey when the situation doesn't call for him to be their fearless leader, and Splinter is quick to advise Mikey during Karai's Vendetta and Shellacne. There are even times when the guys just go along with Mikey's antics because there's no harm in doing so, and often times Mikey needs a moment to be silly.

If you think play fighting, teasing, or getting a little physical with a sibling is the equivalent of abuse, particularly in the context of TMNT of all things, you need to do some re-evaluation.

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ashmouthbooks · 10 months

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EARTH IS MISSING! / EVERYONE'S WORLD IS ENDING ALL THE TIME

this spring I entered the Elizabeth Soutar Bookbinding Competition held by the National Library of Scotland. The theme this year was climate change. I didn't win any of the categories (I certainly didn't think I'd win any of the Craft categories, but I thought I had a decent shot at the Creative categories) but I am very happy with how my binding came out anyway!

under the cut is the details of the binding and the process that went into it, plus a full list of the texts included.

this is a modified 3 piece bradel binding - a 3 piece bradel is usually made with leather spine with the spine attached to the textblock and the front and back covers added on after. there's another variety of a 3 piece bradel case where the spine and boards are assembled with a thin piece of paper to later be covered with a bookcloth. I wanted to use some leftover misprint cardstock I had (the same stuff I'd previously used to make paperbacks) and I wanted to print the titles directly onto the covers and spine (specifically I wanted to overprint the titles to imitate the existing misprint), and in order to fit it through my printer I had to have it in three pieces. so I assembled a bradel case as if it were to be covered with a cloth, only the cardstock I was using to assemble the case would also be the cover material.

everything I used to make this book was recycled or reused, with the exception of the greybeards which were new (I didn't have any rescued book boards from secondhand books at the time). the text paper is recycled eco-craft paper, the endbands are re-used macramé cords wrapped in green wrapping paper that came from a gift bag, and as mentioned, the cover material comes from a misprinted running sheet.

a few process photos of getting the case together:

in terms of content, I took care that not only should the binding fit the theme of climate change - by using recycled and reused materials - but the text inside should also fit the theme. there were a lot of considerations there because I could easily have just bought a copy of something like Greta Thunberg's speeches and rebound them, but I wanted the texts to be something that made sense to me. so I went and looked at the SFF magazines I read for climate fiction and essays, I looked for academic papers, and I looked on Gutenberg for older pulp fiction relating to climate change. once I had a selection of texts I pared them down to two categories, fiction and non-fiction, and decided the most fun way to bind them would be as a tête-bêche with fiction on one side and non-fiction on the other, and this then informed how the binding would physically turn out - the modified 3 piece bradel.

here is the full table of contents for each side of the book:

EVERYONE'S WORLD IS ENDING ALL THE TIME and other writings

A Climate of Competition: Climate Change as Political Economy in Speculative Fiction, 1889–1915 by Steve Asselin Published in Science Fiction Studies, Vol. 45, No. 3, SF and the Climate Crisis (November 2018), pp. 440-453

A Century of Science Fiction That Changed How We Think About the Environment by Sherryl Vint Published in the MIT Press Reader, 20th July 2021

The climate is changing. Science fiction is too. by Eliza Levinson Published in The Story, 30th June 2022

’Not to escape the world but to join it’: responding to climate change with imagination not fantasy by Andrew Davison Published in Philosophical Transactions: Mathematical, Physical and Engineering Sciences, Vol. 375, No. 2095, Theme issue: Material demand reduction (13 June 2017), pp. 1-13

Science in Fiction: A Brief Look at Communicating Climate Change through the Novel by Eline D. Tabak Published in RCC Perspectives, No. 4, COMMUNICATING THE CLIMATE: From Knowing Change to Changing Knowledge (2019), pp. 97-104

Everyone’s World Is Ending All the Time: notes on becoming a climate resilience planner at the edge of the anthropocene by Arkady Martine Published in Uncanny Magazine issue 28, May 7, 2019

EARTH IS MISSING! and other stories

Earth Is Missing! by Carl Selwyn in Planet Stories (1947)

Climate—Disordered by Carter Sprague in Startling Stories (1948)

Climate—Incorporated by Wesley Long in Thrilling Wonder Stories (1948)

A Being Together Amongst Strangers by Arkady Martine in Uncanny Magazine (2020)

You’re Not The Only One by Octavia Cade in Clarkesworld Magazine (2022)

Why We Bury Our Dead At Sea by Tehnuka in Reckoning Magazine (2023)

#my binding #bookbinding #Elizabeth Soutar Bookbinding Competition #recycled materials #reused materials #climate fiction #climate action

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nyhti · 2 months

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Brief and incomplete headcanons about Jonathan and Jervis

Okay, so, yeah. Like I said, there's a whole essay's worth of background info missing here, because it was too long and convoluted, so I've had to simplify things A LOT. Not everything will make sense without all that lost context, but I hope it's still enjoyable.

-So right off the bat, this is the spot where you'd really need all that background info, but here's a very very brief and dumbed down explanation for what was going on with Jonathan before he ever talked to Jervis: A. Jonathan didn't want to talk to people, because they might bully him. B. He still wanted friends. C. Out of everyone at Arkham, Jervis seemed the least likely to be a bully.

-And for Jervis it's: A. He had friends in the past, but lost them after becoming the Mad Hatter. B. Even when he was just Jervis and not a criminal, those friends were hard to come by so... C. He didn't think he'd have another friend again.

- At Arkham Jonathan starts to observe Jervis from a far to try and see if he's niceys or meanies. He sees that Jervis never acts in a threatening manner. Really, he's very polite and seems to avoid conflict. And not even Jonathan, who could be blown away by the slightest summer breeze, could find Jervis psychically intimidating. Jervis is 2/3 his size and clearly not fit. The fact that Jervis is conventionally unattractive also makes Jonathan feel more at ease. He feels Jervis might not judge him for his appearance, because Jervis must have faced struggles in his life due to his small size. He feels Jervis could understand him. And if all that wasn't enough, Jervis spends just as much time in the library as Jonathan and we all know how important books are to Jonathan.

-Jonathan gathers courage for weeks before he actually manages to start a conversation with Jervis. I think Jervis doesn't immediately understand why Jonathan is trying to talk to him. I think in relationships in the past he has always been the one to approach people, because people don't tend to approach him. No one's looked at him and thought: ”Oh, I'd like to get to know this guy!” No, he's always been the one to do the initiate. That's why he doesn't even know what to feel when he finally realizes Jonathan is trying to befriend him, that Jonathan looked at him and thought: ”Oh, I'd like to get to know this guy!”

-Their first conversations are very awkward. Jonathan is very behind on social skills due to being isolated as a child and while Jervis is a little better, he's not exactly great either. Lots of awkward silences, lots of stuttering, lots of blushing, lots of saying the wrong things. None of that really matters though, because they are both very excited to have someone to talk to. Jervis is the second friend Jonathan has ever had in his life and Jervis, like I said, never thought he'd have friends again.

-They both put a lot of work into this relationship. It's not something that just started one day and has been great ever since. No, there have definitely been some ups and downs. I don't feel like writing about any particular incidents, because that would take too long, but I think that you can understand that two people with very little regard for the well being of others might end up hurting each other as well. The only reason that they are best friends now, is that they both wanted this to work, they both wanted a friend and they were willing to put in the work to reach that goal.

-And through all their struggles they have somehow managed to build so much trust, that they are able to talk about even very painful things. They are able to open up about things they have never felt safe to open up about before. It's very healing.

-Jervis might seem childish at first, but at least in my verse, he's one of the most mature rogues. The apparent childishness is really just him not being afraid to be a little silly and also sometimes a guise to fool people. He's a lot more self-aware and intelligent than people assume. It's that maturity that attracts Jonathan. Talking with people like Joker and Eddie can sometimes feel like talking to toddlers with behavioral issues, so it's very relaxing for Jonathan to sit down with Jervis and really talk like an adult to another adult. There isn't a topic they can't discuss in civil terms. They can just sit and talk all night long and that is something they both enjoy.

-Both are well read and both appreciate that in each other. They both have a thirst for knowledge and learn a lot from one another. They definitely have a book club of sorts where they read a book and then meet at either Jervis' place or the Arkham library to discuss it.

-Jervis helps Jonathan out a lot in his financial struggles. Jonathan is always welcome at Jervis' if he doesn't have a roof over his head. Jervis will also pay him for helping out with gadgets and capers, but Jonathan is not particularly found of this type of work. Either he's breaking his back lifting heavy equipment for Jervis or he's breaking his mind being the test subject for his mind control headbands. Jervis pays well though and cooks for him too.

I think what I find appealing about this relationship is the maturity of it. A lot of friendships between rogues will make me feel like I'm reading about 9-year-olds, not 40-somethings, what with the near constant drama and friendship breakups. I like how chill Jon and Jerv are in comparison (at least in my verse). Though, I suppose that that's the exact reason I don't do a lot with this relationship and why it's so underdeveloped in my verse – nothing much happens in it. There isn't much to write about. They're just having tea and talking about literature.

#and you know what that's beautiful #scarecrow #jervis tetch

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majaloveschris · 4 months

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Maja I think I understand why some people believe this marriage is PR but from my point of view it's just people's way to try to cope with the fact that Chris is not the man they thought he was, so they try to paint it like he was "forced" to be in this relationship like he's not a millionaire who can do whatever he wants with his life...see I could write an entire essay about "why this makes sense" but I honestly think it wouldn't matter 'cause people will believe what they want to believe, I guess once the rose colored glasses are off people will finally see the obvious reality in front of them which is, he married a younger woman just like most man in Hollywood and he's happy with his choice otherwise he wouldn't have married her, and he's talking about his marriage and showing off his ring at every opportunity because he wants everybody to know that he is a married man, that's why all the articles about the wedding and so on...now I don't know how long this relationship is going to last due to the big age difference, only time will tell.

I see where you are coming from, and I agree that one of the reasons why it's so hard for some people to believe in this being real is because it would be hard to accept that he is okay with their behavior or that he is just like them.

However, I find it simply impossible that he would've been able to keep his true side hidden. And I don't care how good Disney's PR team is; there is now a way, in my opinion, that he would've been able to act like a whole different person for the last 20+ years, every time, in every situation. I know we don't know him personally, but I think his being racist or antisemitic would've made quite a buzz. And he wouldn't have friends or wouldn't have dated someone if he despised something in them; that is a really determining attribution to the person they are.

If there is a contract, he is indeed "forced" to be with her if he doesn't want to have its consequences, and I'm not talking about paying a certain amount of money, but other things too, which I won't mention since I don't want to give ideas. He could've been, however, pressured into this PR shitshow by his team for whatever reasons. If it's PR and if there is a contract, then yeah, he was stupid to get involved, but that is Hollywood, and people have done way worse things for roles or money than being involved in a PR relationship. So yeah, if it's fake, he was stupid to sign anything or to think it's a good idea.

What you don't understand is that most people have bigger problems with her than her age. See, their age when they met (23; 39) is problematic since she was in her early 20s, and if there wasn't any other problem with her, maybe I would also be fixated on their age gap. But the biggest problem, and why a lot of people don't support their relationship, is her and her friends' behavior. Their antisemitic, Nazi-supporting, fatshaming words and their immaturity are the biggest problems. People (women and men both) get married to younger or older people every single day, and while I don't agree with most of those, here we have much bigger problems.

But why does he want people to know it this much? Why? Why does a relatively private guy need this much buzz around his relationship when he hasn't felt the need for it for years? What are they trying to prove? That they are legit? Or that they are happy?

Considering everything that has happened and how they look when they are around each other, I'd rather believe this is fake than that they are happy together or that he is like them.

#majaloveschris #chris and alba pr #chris and alba relationship #cevans-love

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macaroonff · 10 months

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🌇 Otherworldy Solace

Repost- Something I'd written two years ago

Genre: Fallen Angel AU, Angst, Roommates to friends to lovers Pairing: Felix x gender neutral reader Word Count: 1141 words Content Warnings: None in my opinion, let me know if there's any

Sunshine, rainbows, gumdrops and honey combined with the sense of floating in the warm air as you drift towards heaven. Ascending towards paradise in the arms of the otherworldly being that held you, your arms reached around his neck while his strong grip held you by the waist.

Wings spread out under the brilliance of the rays, he glided through lighter clouds and over lofty buildings. Euphoric was the term that coined everything you felt while being next to him.

“Close your eyes, it’s gonna be a hasty descend,” he whispers softly.

You hold on tighter, following his way, trusting him to lessen the impact of the fall. The wind gusts past your ears spreading a bleary chill through your spine. His grip on you tightens concurrently with his landing.

“We’re here y/n.” Your eyes flutter open, greeting the soft smile radiating from his dimmed glow as you brush your hair back. Currently stationed on your rooftop, you watched as the evening sky faded into its violet and blue hues, unveiling the night sky.

A comfortable silence lingered between you two as he cupped his gently in the palm, while idly leaning against the railing. You found his eyes that were lost in the movement of the distant star, as though it was his first time observing the phenomenon with his childlike fascination.

“We don’t really have sunsets back there,” he says, conceivably reading your mind.

“You mean where you’re from? Heaven?” To this, he nods.“It’s just tranquil white skies, not too much colour.”

This time he started playing with his silver-streaked white hair, messing it up again. It reminded you of the first time you met him. He appeared out of thin air, sweat lining his forehead while his magnificent wings were covered in soot. From his ivory robes left with smudges to his ruffled hair and visible scars. They stretched from his chest slicing right through his abdomen while a glowing liquid poured out of it instead of blood. It was a lot to take in for a sight that was absolutely ghastly. He couldn’t look at you whereas you weren’t sure what to make out of a creature like that. Before you knew it, you’d passed out.

Once you woke up, you had a new roommate, a new friend and perhaps an evident change in your lifestyle. His name is Felix and he was from beyond the skies. That was how he introduced himself after your newly regained consciousness. It wasn’t long before you got used to his soothing presence. You’d notice him accompanying you wherever you go. Be it the supermarket, the library or even work where he’d either take on a ridiculous disguise until you forced him to wait at the rooftop with his wings packed safely under oversized hoodies. At the close of day, he’d gather ways to persuade you to go on a flight over the city skies.

“You took me under your wing and I’d like to take you under mine,” he’d say with a gentle beam.

That was how you reached here, now sat on the floor, legs sprawled out with a quilt for the both of you, curbing the evening breeze. The sprawling city was visible beneath your sight and at a glance you could see the scattered stars in the sky contesting the streetlights below, at most, a mellow difference in luminosity. The thought of luminous brought you to look around to find your glowing acquaintance, curious of his heavenly presence and purpose down on this sphere.

“Felix, you never really told me how you got here.”

“Oh, that...I ran away,” he explains casually while handing you a mug of hot chocolate.

He plops himself beside you, as you wait for him to continue.

“It’s not much, I just got bored of dawdling up there. Had nothing to do than spectate and occasionally report on this world. You know, stuff like writing essays on natural disasters, war, and not very pleasant occurring”

“Yet you chose to escape here? Despite knowing it isn’t all sunshine and rainbows?”

“Honestly, I had nowhere else to go”

Following his thoughts, the room sunk into another lapse of silence with the exception of the traffic from the busy streets. You wondered if you could escape this world and its 3-D realm, but then remembered you had movies, daydreams and Felix, who serves as a reminder that life away from here was possible.

“Y/n, what would you do if I disappeared?”

His off-handed question caught you off guard. It had barely been a few months since you started living together and the places he had been to were limited to your city. If he ever had to disappear, there weren’t many places he could go to. He doesn’t have any earthly identification, let alone the fact that he can’t be captured on camera, or walk without tripping over his feet. (He claims it’s because he’s used to his wings.) It was safe to say that you had never considered the possibility of living in the absence of his presence.

Felix noticed your baffled expression and waved his hand as if to dismiss his question.“Never mind, it was pointless to ask. Let’s just go to bed.” With a kiss on your forehead, he wraps his arms around you as the long accustomed affection never bothered you. But the thought lingered in your head and a few weeks in you could see why he mentioned it. He found himself changing and you grasped it too. He was turning into the transparent birds he spoke of, day by day his majestic wings didn’t fade but crumpled into cream-coloured dust until he could no longer take you on those evening flights. His physical entity wore down until you couldn’t feel his warm hugs. He said it was just a transformation, but you could tell it was a lie. Angels could never hide a lie. He said he was becoming human, but you could tell it was but distorted assurance. You thought feeding him extra waffles and anything else he liked would keep him alive, you thought giving him every ounce of love your heart could bear would stop him from vanishing into thin air, stop him from leaving just as he had come into life. But you couldn’t. Naivety and desperation could never stop fate.

Sunshine, rainbows, gumdrops and honey were just words that fell into the same category of warmth that his company offered you and the only remnants of his were the memories of his drooping eyes and a weak smile that dissolved into nothingness before you had time to discern that he was gone. As if you were asking for one more fragment of his, a Polaroid flew into your hand.

“P.s. the only picture you’ll have of me <3”

☁️

#stray kids fanfiction #stray kids x reader #lee felix x reader #felix fanfic #felix x reader #stray kids imagines #felix imagines #lee felix imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids ff #felix angst #stray kids angst

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familyabolisher · 1 year

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I'm very curious about any more in depth thoughts you have on It Came From The Closet! It's been on my radar and I'd been planning to check it out soon as my next read, and this is the first opinion I've seen on it that isn't part of what feels like marketing reviews almost. Is it the analysis of the horror movies and themes that feels off or the way the essays are written? I'm a huge horror fan and I've definitely seen a...few queer horror takes that felt either like reaches or just "off" to me, but it's always hard to put my finger on it

i’ve only read the first few essays so it’s entirely possible that the volume will improve from here on out (though i … haven’t gotten my hopes up), but my impression so far is that it’s a series of schlocky, surface-level analyses providing a veneer of pop talking points around “horror” and “queerness” over what are often frankly uninteresting personal essays. v little insight and v little desire to bring anything new to the table; frankly, v little interest in the films they purport to be writing on beyond shallow rhetorical vehicles for personal reflection. my patience for The Personal Essay is vvv low at the best of times, but like, i can appreciate a work from which i can glean some compelling insights and articulate a thoughtful response. and, god, none of these pieces have crossed that hurdle so far.

like, if it’s not a long string of appeals to buzzwords like “queerbaiting” and “bury your gays” or v poorly substantiated appeals to "subversion" then it's incorrectly defined “reparative reading” or one writer citing that stupid mary oliver soft animal of your body whatever line out of literally nowhere. it’s just not insightful or imaginative. at its worst it does just read like an annoying tumblr post circa 2017. carmen maria machado writes an essay on jennifer’s body as articulating something essential to her bisexuality such that efforts to talk about the way in which it marketed itself via appealing to the homophobic cultural currency of teen lesbian eroticism somehow constitutes “gatekeeping.” this is not compelling or original critical writing, people.

almost every essay seems to fall back on the same base claim: that what makes horror horrifying relies on a currency of alterity which discursively constructs the “other” and that queer people can & will identify with the “other”—the monster in the horror film—in order to make sense of themselves & overturn the hegemony that the film may well seek to affirm. cool, awesome—this is not new analysis. i would not expect this kind of thing to be churned out in a book published in 2022; we know this already. i worry that overleaning into this idea of a “reclamation” of sorts a) risks forfeiting the language we have available to us to actually talk about the sort of bigotry which can fuel these kinds of stories; how many people talk about le fanu’s carmilla as a stunning depiction of erotic lesbian vampires and lose sight of its having been a v homophobic, colonialist text in their doing so?; and b) neglects the tradition of horror within alterity; horror being made not out of a conservative ethos that we seek to critically remould into a kind of limp simulacrum of a “radical” one, but one born out of a desire to tell a story against heteronormative social imaginaries in the first place. it’s all well and good to identify with regan from the exorcist and cite your poor understanding of reparative readings (not a critical framework i subscribe to anyway, but like, at least get it right?) in doing so, but do we have to keep limiting our discourse to this back-and-forth about whether or not we can salvage obviously homophobic/misogynistic/ableist/racist stories forever? lol. i watched Hellraiser for the first time the other day and that was queer horror that could be met with on far more compelling terms than whatever all this is.

#ask

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merionettes · 1 month

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part 1 of how rubicon got written is here. this is part 2, aka the essay about etc.

the thing about the storyboarding/drafting process that there is no way to describe is how totally obsessed i was for the duration. afterwards i tweeted something like, this is the closest i've ever experienced to demonic possession. i would get up, write all day—like, all day—and go to bed. turn off the lights. then i would just lie wide awake in the dark with lines and scenes and dialogue scrolling through my head until i gave in and opened my notes app. i could not turn it off even if i wanted to. and i didn't want to, i was riding that streak as far as it would take me. because i couldn't look down, right? i could sense what i was attempting to do and anything other than total tunnel vision full speed ahead eyes on the prize would mean i had to acknowledge it.

(context of what made this possible: i was unemployed at the time.)

for the first ~50k or so i was afraid that at any minute i could falter. when i got to the nationals meltdown, that was when i knew i could do it. like, no matter what happened after that, i had the willpower and the chops and i knew where i was going. even if the streak died.

but it didn't. i wrote 100k in a little under 4 weeks. i've never experienced anything like that in my creative life.

—then obviously i had to get a new job and come back down to earth and it took 21 months to get from there to posting the epilogue. still. i will probably be chasing that high for the rest of my life. that was the part that like… made the rest of it possible. no matter how difficult or frustrating it was. that generated the roadmap.

i've talked about this before in comments but i had insanely strong opinions about what was "right" and what wasn't. sylvain's narrative voice was a huge part of that. it's inextricable from the content; it shaped the story; it is the story. for the first couple months it also made me an unhinged stylistic tyrant. if there was one single unnecessary word that struck me as inorganic, as existing solely to make the sentence more digestible or to convey information beyond the fourth wall, it had to go. i could not rest until it did.

once again: this is not generally the relationship i have with writing. lol. it's the demonic possession talking. this is why you have a ton of sentence fragments and stylistic tics and a refusal to let one single shred of information into the text that did not strike me as something sylvain would plausibly think or acknowledge he was thinking. and like, yeah. probably it didn't always make for the smoothest reading experience or the most satisfying narrative development. i'm dead certain there are people who picked this fic up and the bumps drove them out of their mind until they threw in the towel. i just didn't care.

part of that was a reaction to my own old style—you know, the discomfort of shedding old skin. i'd look at those early scene attempts and see all the habits and crutches i'd been trying to move away from over the last two years and double down on The Voice. but part of it… i would get early feedback that wasn't at all wrong, like "what if [clarifying narration]," "what if [more interaction]," and i'd just think, but that's not true. in exactly those words! which is crazy.

(this is why it was fortunate this was fanfiction i was writing for free, i didn't have to compromise my bonkers experience any more than i wanted to.)

to be clear this feeling didn't last two years. i was eventually able to edit like a normal person. it did last probably longer than ideal. and the point when i was no longer running on unleaded creative adrenaline was when i started to really struggle with the middle of the story. i had to make choices as a writer, instead of relying on the purity of my divine vision or whatever, and i second-guessed myself a lot. it was much easier to feel that absolute bone-deep certainty of Right and Wrong, True and False. and the thought of fucking up when i'd gotten so far was unbearable—like, being so close to making the thing in my head reality and then dropping the ball and breaking the suspension of disbelief.

distance also made it possible to perceive what i was doing and be like, jesus mer what the fuck are you doing. why are you devoting so much of your time to a hobby, why are you investing so much of your life in something you will never be able to truly share, why are you living in a hole with no one else in it. why are you putting yourself through the wringer to get it down "right." why does it matter if it's as good as it can be. why do you care. why is this worth it.

i assume this was pretty obvious before this post, but if not it must be now. this story isn't really about figure skating. for me it's about writing; who knows what it's about for you. i didn't sit down and think, great, felix will be a metaphor. that's just how it happens.

the experience of writing a novel for the first time: i'm saying this with my whole chest because at one point i wouldn't have, aloud. but what's the point in calling it anything else? i know exactly how much i invested in this. i'm the only one who can know. that's sort of the point.

here's a giant collage of the inside of my head. i made it for myself and i take it very seriously. not exactly groundbreaking to say this is the ultimate exercise in solipsism. when you're doing that—what greater gift is there than to have someone else meet you in exactly the same place. any writer would kill for the kind of responses this story has gotten, and i don't mean praise. i mean the close reads, the free response essays, the total and complete validation that this thing inside your head that only you can see is real, actually. when i say thank you, it's not for liking it or praising it—it's for taking it seriously. i loved this thing. i still love this thing. thank you for taking it seriously.

#rubicon #writing

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literallyjusttoa · 1 year

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New Hozier album comes out in 10 days so here's some Hozier lyrics I can imagine Apollo writing.

I am YEARNING and I am GAY and y'all are gonna have to DEAL WITH IT.

You don't have to sing it nice / But honey sing it strong / At best you'll find a little remedy, at worst the world will sing along - To Noise Making (Sing)

A song about singing and the joy it can bring? God of music written all over it.

I wouldn't know where to start, sweet music playing in the dark / Be still, my foolish heart, don't ruin this on me - Almost (Sweet Music)

I can just see him singing this while falling in love with someone.

When, my, time comes around / Lay me gently in the cold hard earth / No grave can hold my body down / I'll crawl home to her - Work Song

And I can see him singing this while being in love with someone. Also the weight of an immortal singing about devotion after death is v interesting to me, especially when it comes to our poor has-almost-died-and-actually-died-more-times-than-any-other-immortal Apollo.

With each love I cut loose I was never the same / Watching still living roots be consumed by the flame / I was fixed on your hand of gold / Laying waste to my lovin' long ago - Would That I

Apollo's endless cycle of love and tragedy? More likely than you'd think.

When I was a man, I thought it ended / When I knew love's perfect ache / But my peace has always depended / On all the ashes in my wake -Arsonist's Lullaby

Apollo's endless cycle of love and tragedy? More likely than you'd think.

All that I've been taught / And every word I've got / Is foreign to me - Foreigner's God

In a general sense, I think this could refer to how different the rules of Olympus are to the rest of the world. Everything you're taught is right on Olympus means nothing as soon as you leave, and we see Apollo struggle with that in the books. But I also I like to relate these lyrics to the period right after the fall of Greece, when Apollo was likely torn between his people and the new invading force. Honestly I think that would be such an interesting time period to explore.

I couldn't utter my love when it counted / Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now / I couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted / Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now - Shrike

Apollo definitely has a lot he regrets about certain relationships, especially after the Trials. His open affection and love for his partners wars against his inability to show true vulnerability and "weakness", so I imagine that he's been very closed off to a lot of his lovers.

So I will not ask you where you came from / I would not ask and neither would you / Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips / We should just kiss like real people do - Like Real People Do

Adding onto the last part (and this is entering headcanon territory) Apollo wants the love part of the relationship without the true vulnerability. He wants to be able to keep all of his walls up while still being truly loved, which is sadly kind of impossible. To me, it always seemed like Apollo was chasing the idea of being in love more than the person he's loving themselves. And this doesn't mean Apollo doesn't care about these relationships, in fact, he seems to throw his whole soul into them. He wants to love someone, he just isn't ready to be loved back.

The entirety of Jackie and Wilson and the entirety of Talk

They just fit man, idk

+ so much more but I'd have to write essays to fully explain how I feel about each one

I'll probably reblog this after I binge the new album with more so look forward to that.

#long post #sunny speaks #trials of apollo #toa apollo #lester papadopoulos #the majority of my headcanons about how Apollo acts in his relationships comes from Hozier if that's not obvious #Its the poetic phrasing + quiet desperation for love + being in awe of your partner + sadness behind each note + references to mythology #shut up sunny #headcanons

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exocynraku · 14 days

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thoughts on a starless clan so far

i don't know if anything i said here has any definitive spoilers in it but i'll put it all under a cut for safety

short answer: it's ok. frostpaw's plot & the stuff with riverclan, riverstar & the COTP, splashtail & curlfeather are all REALLY COOL. I liked sunbeam in the beginning and have grown to dislike where her story has gone. I like the concepts surrounding nightheart's plot but dislike the execution & the reaction from the community. I am still excited for star. long answer:

frostpaw and splashtail's plot is really really good and ive been enjoying it a lot (probably because it reminds me of tpb). i liked sunbeam's plot with blazefire and lightleap and berryheart in the beginning but have gotten bored of her & her plot since nightheart showed up in her life & she moved to thunderclan. nightheart's plot has good concepts behind it but i don't like the execution & i don't like the 2 cross clan relationship plot in a row. i think it could've been better if they focused less on cross clan relationships and more on clan prejudice & xenophobia & the corruptness of the code system as a whole (though i know it's incredibly unlikely the writers would do that i still want To Hope) instead of just the romance part since we did that last arc (though i don't think it really got us anywhere as i personally dislike the 'trials' thing that was developed & don't think it's particularly useful). especially because it was specifically a cross CLAN relationship in a row. i'd be a bit more lenient if it was a clancat x kittypet/loner relationship as that hasn't been done in a bit (like if nightheart fell in love with a COTP cat or something).

i like the pacing per-book but i think the pacing overall could be improved upon as it feels both sunbeam and nightheart's plots have been too separate from & slow compared to frostpaw's plot and haven't really been meshing well in the later books as the erins try to tie them all together. i also don't know if this is just my bad memory but i dislike the change of sunbeam and nightheart's personalities over time. they both feel like they are becoming cardboard cut out main characters to me. i liked sunbeam's relationship with lightleap blazefire & her family and thought it all was really realistic and especially in the lightleap/blazefire department was a surprising change of pace. i dislike what has become of both her plot and her personality as i feel they totally abandoned the lightleap/blazefire plot and turned her into a flat love interest. i do think it makes sense for her as a character to yearn for love but i think it'd make even MORE sense if she had a much more complicated relationship with love

i'm not going to speak further on nightheart because i know no matter what i say someone WILL be telling me to kill myself in one way or another so i'll keep in brief: no matter what you think of him, you at Need To Acknowledge & Be Conscious Of The Fact That Very Bad Things Have Been Said About & To Both Women And Disabled People Because Of His Plot In This Community. yes some very good & well-thought out conversations have been said in response, yes the majority of these things were said months and months ago when asc first was starting, But That Does Not Mean You Can Ignore That They Happened. If you want the community you are apart of to not be perceived as jackasses you cannot Ignore The Hatred Towards Women And Disabled People That Festers Inside Of It. you don't need to write a 9000 page essay about it, that's not what i'm asking, you just need to be CONCIOUS of it okay that's it. also while thinking about this i thought of how i'd rewrite sunbeam and the third pov (which i'd give to sparkpelt) so if anyone wants to hear about that send me an ask i'll make another 4 paragraph post about it

#wc #wc spoilers #ray talk

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ystk-archive · 6 months

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CAPS LOCK turns ten today! Any thoughts about it looking back? (Yes, it's your time to write that essay!) And do you think Nakata should release an album like this again? I remember you saying that CAPS LOCK should've been a Nakata album, not a CAPSULE one.

It's kind of crazy that anyone would remember something I probably said when I was nineteen, but that's a good (incorrect) opinion of mine to take me to task for since it's a great jump-off point, lol.

I most likely said that not so much because CAPS LOCK doesn't use Toshiko's voice enough -- it uses it extremely well, really, better than the more recent Metro Pulse -- but because the album seems so pensive and insular and bizarrely personal. capsule's music increasingly incorporated gloomy and oppressive overtones starting from FRUITS CLiPPER (and I'll ascribe it as a function of the genre change), but capsule was fundamentally always pop, and moreover always a "good time." The music was supposed to make you get up and dance, not sit and listen in a quiet space. CAPS LOCK was him shifting his ethos, it was an abrupt rejection of what he had been doing. It was close to what I'd always envisioned a "solo Nakata Yasutaka album" to be -- largely or entirely instrumental, completely inscrutable, and room to do more than what he could (or would) with his normal 9-to-5 cubicle musician pop production acts. And it was the first time a capsule album made me feel sad and reflective instead of immersed in a fantasy of a world that I know nothing about and cannot access. It's a sobering album instead of an intoxicating one.

If those are a lot of frou-frou words, I can also call CAPS LOCK the end result of what happens when you talk to Sakamoto Ryuichi just one time (will never stop thinking about how he met him for S&R in 2012 and a year later we got this album lmao); I'll admit there's a sense of insincerity to the album that was sharply amplified by everything that followed (WAVE RUNNER and six years of silence) and it's partially just the sci-fi film score Nakata is never going to be asked to do (wish he'd fund his own, he loves movies and it's not like he ain't got no money). It's also an album that makes the listener want to know more about what's going on there -- it suggests a story (as Toshiko pointed out in this column) though there is none that can be concretely pieced together, it tries to and I think does create vivid environments through its sound design, and some tracks are unenjoyable slogs to hear for those who come to capsule for snappy pop music. There's a fetishizing of recorded sounds here instead of synthesizers; CAPS LOCK is entirely about what every moving part of each song accomplishes in tandem.

But all of this really just functioned as a declaration of capsule's plasticity. Anyone can examine their albums between 2010-2012 and see someone endlessly repeating themselves, sometimes trying to violently elbow their way out of a pigeonhole. CAPS LOCK was so much of a properly-done reversal that I got the impression that, regardless of how fans personally felt about the music itself, it piqued curiosities and got people really invested and excited for what could be created through capsule. It achieved this visually and sonically; basically, it felt like an album that was truly considered and made instead of cobbled together with a black backdrop. It presented Toshiko's voice in an entirely new way, where she actually is an instrument and to remove or replace her with something else would alter the effect, and it evoked enough familiarity with their previous work while still transforming the scope of what a capsule album could justifiably be and how it could make listeners feel.

This has been a whole lot of incoherent rambling but to answer the other question, yes, he absolutely should do another album "'like this," though I struggle to explain what exactly "like this" is even after everything I just wrote LMAO. Another album with a specific intention behind it? Something that is music for music's sake and not a collection of advertisements and safe pop?

#messages

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k8epot8e · 3 months

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Train in Vain: Chapter 1

Notes: Never done this before, I've only ever written academic essays for grad school etc. I got the idea for this story on the train the other day. Wanted to play around with Kid's characterization and his relationship with Kil. The amount of space Kid and Killer are occupying in my brain lately is unhealthy and I especially loved the HC I'd seen of them being in a punk band together. I'd originally thought of this as a one-shot, but I enjoyed writing it so much that I will keep going! My plan atm is to upload another chapter by next week. Please let me know what you think! Going to try to improve my dialogue and action sequences. The general idea is that it'll all happen over the course of one night, like an After Hours, or American Graffiti situation. TWs: Reader is a woman. Sexual harassment of reader. Brief mention of an imaginary sex scene. Light violence. Implied drinking and drugs. Implied familial pressure and sexism. Cursing. Minors dni.

On AO3 I gave it an M but it's a lighter M. Here's that link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53565769

Summary:

You're headed out on a Saturday night when some cute punks help you out of a sticky situation. Next thing you know, you're tagging along to their concert. This isn't something you'd normally do, but they're nice to look at and you need a little more spontaneity in your life. Let's see where the night takes you.

The man was slumped against the faux wood-paneled wall of the train car. You only noticed him because of his massive, muscular frame. He was your age, late 20s, but he had a boyish charm about his face that made you grin. A mischievousness that was noticeable even with his eyes closed as he was currently. His hair stood up in a dark red shock like he'd stuck his finger in an electrical socket. He was pale and riddled with piercings, metal spikes jutting out from his nose and ears giving his angular face an even sharper appearance. He wore goggles loosely at the top of his forehead. A punk aesthetic that seemed simultaneously meticulous and nonchalant. You noticed his massive left arm was metallic from the elbow down. An equally large man sat beside him on the seat to his left. The man was blonde with long hair that layered itself in sharp locks down his shoulders. He had an old-school soul patch that softened his sharp jawline and drew attention to the blue paper mask he wore courteously over his mouth. He seemed tired in a way that betrayed his rough exterior. His traps were huge and strained against the collar of his worn blue t-shirt. Seeing their muscular physiques made you hold your breath albeit briefly as you boarded the train and quickly slid into a newly available seat.

It was mid-Saturday evening and you were making your way to a bar in south Brooklyn to meet up with a friend from college. She'd recently had a baby and her husband had been begging you to take her out. She was always so responsible; you'd historically been one of her very few bad influences and her husband loved you for it. Despite what she would say when pressed, she enjoyed the thrilling sense of ease you coaxed out of her typically rigid demeanor. Your relationship was easy. She didn't need to text or call you to make sure you still felt involved in her life. You could pick up right where you left off, be it months or years since you'd seen each other.

This was how you lived most of your life. Your family and upbringing were so exhausting that you felt an aversion to friction of any sort. That didn't mean you weren't responsible, of course you were. You always did what was expected of you or what you thought needed to be done. You were the oldest girl, rebelliousness was a luxury reserved for other people. Despite this, you carved out ways to satisfy your inner hellion as you could. Little rebellions that you could control but still scratched the itch you had to break everything down. You drank too much, but not enough to be a real issue. You smoked too much weed, only once it became legalized. You had a serious problem with authority figures or anyone for that matter who had the gall to tell you what to do. You would never cause an actual scene, but you'd fume for weeks after the encounter, thinking of clever ways to handle the situation in retrospect. You had a smart mouth, and while you rarely used it on high, your colorful vocabulary and quick temper had gotten you in serious trouble a couple of times before. You secretly loved using your words to cut someone down to their core, but only if they deserved it. When that side of you showed, the really mean one, no one could keep up with you. People would stare at you, eyes wide and mouth agape at your ability to so quickly discern what they truly hated about themselves and launch it back in their faces.

Aside from its ever-looming presence, this side of yourself was far away from you tonight. You were excited to see your friend, and shockingly the sun had been out today after nine days of straight rain. You had your AirPods in and were listening to one of your throwback playlists on Shuffle. The Clash rang in your ears, barraging your poor eardrums with excessive volume as the train hitched and swayed down the tunnel.

You let your gaze travel back up to the two large men at the other end of the train car. It struck you that it’d been a while since any man had touched you, let alone one as cute as the guys you were ogling shamelessly. You leered at the veiny forearms of the blonde, thickly folded into a taught cross over his chest. Your libido, ever your betrayer, flashed an imaginary scene in your mind’s eye. A vision of the man's vascular forearms tensed in a wrought-iron grip around the edge of a table in front of you, while he fucked you mercilessly from behind. You imagined what his strong body would feel like pressed against your back. A warmth bathed over your skin, your imagination tricking your synapses ever so gently. The warm sensation quickly shot upwards to your cheeks as you realized that the man was watching you stare at him. His expression wasn't judgemental or surprised, just thoughtful with the faintest hint of a smirk behind his mask. Your face flushed beet red and you quickly shook your head back and forth, attempting to convey to the man that you were not, in fact, ogling him but rather staring into the distance and were abruptly brought back to reality. This pathetic coverup attempt made you feel even more guilty since you knew your lustful gaze had been obvious. You averted your eyes down and to the right, tracing the lines made by an errant shoelace discarded on the floor.

The movement of the train broke you out of your shameful reverie. The driver pulled the break surprisingly hard into the next stop and your body lurched forward with the car. You steadied yourself on the wall to your left and watched as most of the people in your car streamed out of the train car doors. The older woman who had been sitting next to you disembarked and in her stead, a lanky brunette man with a buzzcut flopped down next to you dramatically. He gave you a shit-eating grin as your eyes met his and you quickly looked away.

You thought you felt a gaze from further down the train watching you closely but you didn't move or look up in an attempt to discourage your newly arrived neighbor from talking to you. This evasion failed miserably as he tapped you on your right thigh a little too high for your liking.

“Nice weather today, right?”

“Yep.” You said as you took out your right earbud.

“Where you headed?”

“To see a friend. What about you?” You mentally kicked yourself for engaging with him. Why were you so deferential?

“Me and my buddies are going out. Keeping the party going.” He nodded to a man to his right sitting across the aisle. His buddy was cute, like him, but something about him unsettled you. Something about both of them.

“Cool,” you said as you tried to put your earbud back in.

You noticed how empty the train car was. You and these two guys were the only ones on your end of the car. Why did this guy have to sit right next to you?

“What bar are you going to?” He asked quickly before you had the chance to put your earbud back in, so you stopped, holding it aloft.

“Baratie. It's nautical-themed.”

“Sounds cool. What's your friend's name?” He asked, staring you in the eye.

“Um, Amanda.” You said slowly.

“Hah. Good. I thought you were gonna say a guy's name.” He said and chuckled to himself.

“What?” You asked instinctively.

“I thought you were gonna say you had a date.” He explained. You were still confused.

“What do you mean?” You asked dumbly knowing full well his implication.

“I mean a pretty girl like you should come out with us tonight,” he said, his smile turning more nefarious by the second.

You'd never thought of yourself as pretty, and being called a girl made you feel infantile.

“Excuse me?” You asked not very aggressively

You knew that men generally found you attractive. You didn't know to what extent, but you knew on some level that you were cute. You never felt beautiful, that was a word reserved for tall, model-like women who were pretty in an ethereal sort of way. The women you found yourself watching in restaurants and clothing stores who made your heart skip a beat. They always seemed so effortless.

You were the opposite. You were small and round and angry and everything you did was full of effort. You weren't tiny but you were short. Despite your size, you always felt enormous and awkward. You were always moving out of people's way because you felt so brazenly wide. This feeling came from being muscular. You weren't ripped but you'd always played sports growing up and took every opportunity to carry things so that your mother didn't have to. You were a force of sheer mass and will. Femininity felt out of reach for someone who took up space.

Despite this, men found your willingness coupled with your small stature endearing. Your muscles and general meatiness meant that you had a curvy body which betrayed how seriously you took yourself. Your boobs were objectively huge which made you feel fat. Your large bust in tandem with your wide shoulders and back made you feel like you were going to hulk out of lithely cut women’s clothes. You didn't shop frequently, opting instead to wear t-shirts that swamped you in their width. You had a bit of a belly from your enjoyment of craft beer but generally, you were in good shape and attractive. You'd never admit this to anyone, but you saw the way people looked you up and down in bars.

Self-consciousness flooded your brain as you stared at the man sitting next to you. What did he mean?

“Oh, haha, no thanks.” You replied tentatively.

“Don't be shy,” he said, wrapping his long arm around your shoulders. You could smell minty alcohol radiating from the back of his throat.

“Haha. No, I'm good. Gotta meet my friend.” You said attempting to shrink from his grip.

His hand tightened and tensed on your left shoulder. He leaned his face into your right ear.

“Come on, don't be a bitch.” He cooed, his hot breath making you shiver in his arms.

All the color drained from your face and your heart sank. “Fuck,” you thought to yourself as your brain scrambled for ideas on how to escape.

His friend across the aisle laughed as he pulled you in closer to his body. He discreetly placed a soft kiss on the base of your neck.

“I know you want it.” He whispered. “My buddy and I will show you a good time.” You felt his fingers drift to your inner thigh as he squeezed lightly.

You froze from shock. Your brain descended into a panic as fear wracked your body. You couldn’t move.

Suddenly, the man next to you was yanked into the air and thrown to the floor of the train, his body making a loud thud as he skidded to a stop across the linoleum. The train bounced as your gaze trailed up the strong legs of the man now standing in front of you. It was the masked blonde man from your earlier fantasy. Your shocked expression caught his gaze. There was a silent rage behind his eyes. You didn't know how he crossed the train so quickly to launch your harasser out of his seat, especially in steel-toed boots, but you were grateful for it. The redheaded punk was still asleep, head resting on the wall.

The harasser’s friend, the man sitting across the aisle from you started to yell. He tried to get up in the face of the masked man but was violently shot backward with a swift roundhouse kick. The harasser got up off the floor while the masked man used his inertia to quickly pivot his feet and turn to face the incoming attack. He caught the harasser’s fist with his large left hand and parried with a swift punch straight to the guy’s jaw. You heard the crack of bone when his fist hit the man’s face. The harasser was once again, propelled to the ground, blood spraying from the side of his mouth. You gasped and covered your mouth with your hand in shock. You’d never seen a real fight before.

At that moment, the train car doors opened, and, seeing the chaotic scene, the people on the platform yelled in horror and diverted to other cars. You noticed the redheaded punk was now awake and smirking at his friend’s handiwork, his large arms crossed over his chest. The masked man paused, breathed out calmly, and turned to face you. You held your breath. His right fist was covered in blood, so after a thoughtful pause, he extended his left hand out towards you.

“You okay?” He asked. His voice was steady and reassuring, his large hand extended towards you, palm facing upwards.

“Um. Yes. I’m alright.” You stuttered, still in shock. You looked the man in the eye. The rage from earlier was gone and all that remained was tentative concern. He seemed worried that you would spook at any moment, like a wild rabbit caught against a fence.

Sensing no malice in his gaze, you gingerly placed your hand in his. It was calloused but warm and reassuring. He clasped your palm and helped you to your feet with surprising gentleness.

“Well I doubt we have much time after that performance” the redheaded punk spat from down the car, standing from his seat. His booming voice filled with deadpan amusement shocked you out of your daze. You looked around, people were whispering and looking at you through the train’s windows. You saw the station cop start to hustle down the platform towards your train car, “Hey! You three!” He yelled as he picked up his pace. “I've got an assault on a train down here” the cop barked into a walkie-talkie on his right shoulder.

The masked man put his hand on your right shoulder and looked at you, “Sorry, about this, but we gotta get moving.” In one swift motion, you were gracefully floated from the ground. The masked man draped your body over his left shoulder like it weighed nothing and held your legs snug to his chest. The redhead laughed raucously as they dashed out of the train car with you in tow. The masked man and the redhead ran side by side as they picked up speed, busting through the emergency exit door and darting up the station’s long walkway to the street. The yells of the station cop echoed into nothing as you emerged up, into the cold night air. The two men didn’t stop running until they reached an alley two blocks away. The masked man lowered you gently to your feet and they both hunched over to catch their breath.

“Kil, I’ve never seen you manhandle a chick like that” the redhead howled.

You tensed.

“Kid, you heard the cop, she was gonna get detained. I had to get her outta there.”

“How fucking gallant of you, asshole. What are we gonna do now? That wasn’t our stop.” The redheaded man finally caught his breath and stood up to his full height. He was huge, even taller than you’d originally thought. The masked man was broad and taller than you but the redhead had to be at least 6’5.

“Um excuse me. I’m here too.” You said looking from one to the other. On hearing this, they both turned and looked at you.

The redhead furrowed his brow at you, “Yeah, we know. You got us into this mess.”

Your jaw fell open. “How is this MY fault you’re the ones who basically kidnapped me!” You said incredulously.

“Yeah, if my buddy hadn’t saved your ass you’d be in a holding cell all night being questioned by Paul Blart.” The redhead shot back, his intense golden eyes boring into yours.

“Kid, knock it off. You know it’s not her fault.” The masked man waved dismissively at the redhead. “My name is Kil. Sorry for escalating things. Just thought you needed a hand.” The masked man reached his hand back out to you.

You took his hand and shook it lightly. “No, I appreciate it. Thank you.”

Kil shot a thumb at the redhead, “This ray of sunshine is Kid.”

Kid crossed his arms over his chest and averted his eyes from yours. “Pleasure.” He mumbled.

“He's not that bad when you get to know him,” Kil added. “We’re in a band and are meeting up with our mates for a show later.”

“Oh that’s cool,” you said, “what kind of band?”

“Punk, genius” Kid tsked and gestured towards his outfit with his metallic forearm.

“I didn’t ask you, ginger” you snapped back. Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw Kid’s lips shoot up into a reluctant smirk.

“Like Kid said, we’re a punk band. You’re welcome to come to the show if you’re interested, but I’m not exactly sure how we’re getting to the venue anymore.” Kil answered.

All of the commotion had made you completely forget about your own plans. “Shit!” You yelped and dug for your phone in your purse. The screen lit up and you find a text from your friend. “Hey I’m so so sorry but Lulu is coming down with something from daycare. I don’t think I’m gonna make it out tonight. Rain check?” You frowned at your phone. You’d wanted to see your friend tonight but hoped her daughter would feel better.

“So are you coming or what?”

You looked up. Kid was staring down at you, eyeing the message you’d pulled up on your phone. He had an expression in his piercing, golden eyes that you couldn’t read.

You paused to think. You didn’t know these guys, but despite their gruff exteriors, you felt decently comfortable with them.

Maybe it was because you’d already done your hair and makeup, maybe it was because you were still full of adrenaline, maybe it was because you thought of yourself as more rebellious than you actually were, or maybe it was because looking at either one of the men made your insides twist into knots, but for whatever reason you cracked a wry smile and replied,

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

#eustass kid #eustass kid x reader #killer one piece #massacre soldier killer #killer x reader #eustass kid x killer x reader #one piece x reader #one piece fanfic

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djservo · 2 months

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january lasted 100 days and nights and now february has practically flown by BUT i returned to hallowed ground (tumblr) to get your reading recap! did you make room for any romance reads what happened i’m all ears

surprisingly not really any romance specific reads though I think love was sort of the implicit/explicit thread stringing these all together so in a way it was still kinda fitting!! I did watch Touch of Pink (2004) on Valentine's Day which was a silly + sweet (if not slightly troubling) time!!

Since I Laid My Burden Down by Brontez Purnell

if I disembody my adoration for Brontez as a person and try to see this as just any other work of fiction, I could see the kinda jumpy/non-linear structure and casualty not working for me, but because it's Brontez and because I've adore him for years, it's impossible for me not to read this in his voice and demeanor specifically + thus get such a kick out of this!! in fact I'd say the casualty and rough edges are such a big component to its charm + narrative voice. reflective in such a real + funny way without pretension, and I think really indicative of his roots in zines and peak early internet blogging era (at least from my first introduction to him)

Punks by John Keene

poetry! really great when it was good but kinda cliche when it was weak which was disappointing. I'm not a big fan of repetition poetry (? not sure if there's a specific term for it) and there was just one too many in this collection for me to take seriously. could've cut down on a few poems which I feel like I've never thought about any poetry collection before so maybe that's actually a testament to Keene's generosity on not skimping on page count lolol. still I appreciate the good parts for what they are - love letters and testaments to simply existing as a gay man during a time of so much death and strife, proof of life as impossible as it seems to confront sometimes

I Love Myself When I Am Laughing... And Then Again When I Am Looking Mean And Impressive: A Zora Neale Hurston Reader edited by Alice Walker

admittedly added to my tbr way back mostly bc of the name alone (which may just be the greatest book title ever) and somehow didn't realize this was a reader/anthology? I knew it included her famous 'What White Publishers Won't Print' essay so I just assumed it was just a collection of essays ANYWAY. I wondered if I would've appreciated this more had I already read the entirety of the works featured (aside from Their Eyes Were Watching God, the only one I've read) or if this was actually an ideal way to get a better sense of Hurston's variety of writing. I'm leaning towards the latter since I really enjoyed just about every piece and genre - folklore and memoir and fiction - and getting to witness the similarities in how she writes each form and also the background context of her life/controversies added so much to the experience. simply love a woman with capital "A" Audacity and it's so clear from the intro alone (amazingly done by Mary Helen Washington) that there was no end to it!! inspiring!!! I also adored the afterword of Alice Walker's journey in trying to weave together Hurston's legacy with varying accounts + recollections of her life while trying to find Hurston's unmarked grave, which honestly could've been its own book bc it was that engrossing. loved this

Sula by Toni Morrison

buddy read this with one of my best gal friends which I think is the best way to read this ugh so damn good I barely have the words. The Bluest Eye floored me and set such a high expectation that Sula somehow surpassed and now I'm finishing up Song of Solomon which has been soooo ??#$?!!? IDK how Toni does it each time, not even just consistently amazing but somehow sharper than before. and with a vengeance!! I love stories about how friendships shift overtime with differing life outlooks n values to the point where you're wondering how you were even friends in the first place, and to create such a rich and complex net of characters and histories in less than 200 pages? just unbelievable. highly highly recommend this one

#idk what im doing with the book cover pics but whatevz #asks #reads #devitalise

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3milesup · 1 day

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My BoB ships ranking

(as encouraged by @sleepy-hyperfixations - thanks!)

i have thought about this from all sides to find a criteria and then i decided it probably comes down to which ships make me feel a particular way about them or spark thoughts, curiosity, creativity, and i found a compromise between the two things^^

so, here's what i come up with:

1. winnix - aka the pinnacle of ships, the Relationship Goals™ that i can't even bring myself to read much for because it stirs some deep deep nostalgia for what i've never had... but they've been for me the stamp of true love ever since i saw the show...

1. webgott - a ship that to me is almost too emotional to think about because either way you turn it around, it is always so painful (but so meant to be as well). but also: sizzling, fiery dynamics, so much depth to dive into, ahh they're everything...

3. now, here i am, shamelessly putting on the pedestal what i believe is a figment of my imagination, as i have never seen it anywhere (if anyone has, pretty please let me know^^) but it owns a chunk of my heart, and it is smokey gordon/alton more (what would that make them? smore? idek anymore... what even is my life…) i could write an essay but i'll keep it lowkey and say (affectionately): how have you people not seen it? they sooo had a thing, and a tad complicated, repressed, emotionally constipated but passionate one for that matter…

on shared 3th, because *shielding my eyes from the first two places* i will however die on rarepair hill, is speirsroe - it makes so much sense if you stop to look for a while and i love to do so. many feelings abt those two.

4. luztoye - i wanted to put them higher, actually, bcs i am biased, bcs they are my flagship (that currently is like, adrift and half sunken but i'll pull it back afloat just like i will do myself) but alas, they're here. yes, i acknowledge that it is a ship standing on pillars of quite dry sand of two (2) interactions in the whole show lol, but the possibilities it offers to explore the personalities are vast and interesting...

5. speirton, bull/martin - are here in the ranking because i totally get the appeal and the dynamic and they are sort of "comfort ships" to me? like, an... angst-proofish certainty but just... never say never, but for the moment not quite on top of my list^^

6. quite the same for baberoe, placed here because it's an integral part of the fandom and i have all the respect but i'm sorry, i just can't see it, no matter how hard i squint...

ALSO, there is speirs/nix out there somewhere, but i can't for the life of me rank it, it just exists in my subconscious, intriguing and sadly underdeveloped, and i just wanted the world to know, because i think they are a gem full of potential^^

...'aight, i can't seem to think of other ships, so... i guess this is it^^ if you have any thoughts or your own rankings i'd love to know <3

#sorry for all this rambling xd #ah the things i ponder instead of sleeping after the night shift...#but this is more fun!^^#band of brothers

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quietmoonwitch · 3 months

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Complex Witch Stuff & Dealing with a Legitimate Curse

I won't write a very long post. (Edit: I guess the post was long after all—could have been even longer.) This is more of a status update. Someone with whom I talk fairly regularly on this platform wrote to me yesterday with, "Where've you been?" My short answer was, "I'll write a post about it."

My longer answer here is, "I live in a community where there are a number of experienced magical practitioners." Make that, "a number of unhinged experienced magical practitioners." And there are at least two or three I'd describe as "crazier than a loon." One of these crazies has laid down a serious curse on me. I have socially and magically verified it. And most of my energy for the past two weeks has gone towards mitigating its effects.

Most witches and sorcerers have 90% online magical personas (unless they're in IRL covens). So someone cursing them has to work through the lines of connection provided by the internet at best. But effective cursing is complex and a curse can work just fine at a distance (especially if it has a strong spiritual intelligence behind it and isn't just a burst of hateful energy). Apart from online, there are even fewer barriers to laying down work on someone.

I often regret exiting the broom closet and becoming known IRL, especially by these local suburban witches, many of whom have enough time, disposable income, and life-frustration to want to mess with others. It also doesn't help that I'm a guy who pretty much keeps to himself but who radiates a lot of "big energy," for lack of a less new age term. It makes me a target for bitter former coven witches.

I could write a long essay about the situation, but I said I'd keep it short. So this is what's up:

I've been in a local coven for a couple years (and have been practicing the craft for about two decades). My background is in traditional craft and folk work, but I've also studied ceremonial magic and been part of several serious IRL magical groups.

Recently, the coven broke up. One guy moved to France and fell out of communication with us. Another woman, who was obsessed with the (married) High Priest, had a breakdown. She decided to go back to her evangelical Christian denomination and reacquire Jesus as her personal savior. She also won't speak to any of us. "Whatever," I recently said to a mutual acquaintance, "I always thought she was a little nutty." Because she was and really didn't have much magic beyond all the seduction work she was putting in on the HP.

There were 13 of us. Most either drifted away or just stopped coming to meetings. The High Priestess and High Priest (married for 10 years and not trying to run a sex cult, despite the schemes of the various unhappy middle-aged ladies in our group) have an open-door policy and a few of us still show up fairly regularly to meditate and have something like a potluck plus discussion, which is largely what we did as a coven. In a sense, we're still a coven. We just stopped calling ourselves that.

Another suburban housewife, who was sort of going through a second adolescence, competing with the now-relapsed evangelical (mentioned in #2 above) for the HP's attention, got extremely pissed off at everyone (for reasons I had to discover through divination, no less). Let's call her "Angry Witch." AW cursed (a) the entire coven; (b) a close friend; and (c) me because she thought we'd banded together with Ye Relapsed Evangelical to help her get the High Priest away from his wife. That was some crazy, squirrly, irrational shit. But such is the foundation of many curses. Think: aged Mean Girl with enough power and knowledge to be a problem.

So AW put some fairly heavy curse work in and my friend got sick. I realized what was happening and got it off me. So did the High Priest and Priestess (I should say "former," but I like them and still think of them that way). Then we met and compared notes. All of the remaining members of the coven in contact with us were either ill, suffering from extreme runs of bad luck, or (in one case) in the hospital from a freak job site accident.

The HPs and I did a reversal. AW subsequently had a cancer scare, which then was found to be benign. How do we know? She flat-out accused us of sending the Big C in her direction. We hadn't. But we had worked a potent reversal. So if she sent something that nasty at us (she did), it made sense. She tried a few more nasty curse things. All was returned to her.

Finally, she went out and hired a conjure worker to do killing work on four of us. She didn't try to hide it and was feeling very smug. Right now, I am still dealing with the implications and repercussions of that.

Baby Witches of Ye #Witchblr, here are a few takeaways:

Covens can be wonderful, but they can also be like dysfunctional high school cliques full of adults going through a second puberty. Keep that in mind.

Give an emotionally unstable person a tiny bit of power and they will most likely use it for the worst reasons.

This is just a general observation (not a witch-specific one): when middle-aged people fall for someone to the point at which they're ready to burn their own marriage / domestic situation to the ground, they're already a bit out of their minds. When the person they're falling for happens to be happily married and content, you can add bitterness and jealousy to that. When they get rejected and humiliated and know how to work curses, well, guess what happens . . .

Curse work, when done right, can last for a really long time, can be lethal (not just a depressing pain in the ass), and can be hard to remove, especially if it's layered in multiple ways.

So I've been busy, I guess. Stay healthy, my friends, and remember: you don't know what other people know, how experienced in sorcery and the craft they may be. Even an idiot in other ways can lay down powerful work if they're experienced and angry enough. And there are more magical practitioners (and magical thinkers) in the world than society likes to acknowledge. Be respectful to everyone. And only come out of the broom closet to people you trust.

#witch #witchblr #cursed #witchcraft #witch community

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