#and I fully get that your personal views color your opinions on fiction

[an-architect-of-words]

It’s been literally so long since Fire Emblem 3H came out. At this point, I’m a hair away from assuming people who say Rhea was running around murdering people of other religions are being intellectually dishonest. We have multiple support conversations just saying entirely uncryptically that she doesn’t do this, and we never even see strong evidence that she does? She executed people for active blasphemy and attempted assassination, it’s just that the context made her ruthless (the people executed were clearly pawns, scared, and suffering too) which is why the scenes depict her as cutthroat. But to say she’s killed people because they just casually didn’t think Sothis was real is more than just simplifying— it’s just incorrect. It’s because these people ultimately threatened the juggling act Rhea is doing to prevent another grand scale war and triggered her because they messed with things she considers sacred, final reminders of her mother.

It’s just so weird because I used to post like screenshots and STATEMENTS FROM THE WRITERS that confirm all this in no uncertain language and people would be like doing extreme mental gymnastics to explain why “Rhea doesn’t care that I don’t believe in Sothis” and “Rhea did what she did to prevent war” are not clear statements. I mean, I am so chill with having different takes on characters from people or viewing characters as more or less sympathetic. That involves personal code and ethics. But with 3H, I hit this wall where I’m like.. when do we admit that, for you, this conversation is not about actually understanding the character?

I swear, some people need to go take a break, grab a latte, and privately come to terms with their irl beefs with the Catholic Church before engaging with this game. Because, my friends, I do not have the ability or strength to shoulder/accommodate your external opinions on a real religion on top of my analyses of the motives of the green haired dragonfolk.

#I was worried that last paragraph is me strawmanning people #then I remember that I used to go to pages of ppl talking about things Rhea didn’t do or blindly agreeing with Edelgard #and so so many of them were anti-religious communists #open anti-religious communists #and I fully get that your personal views color your opinions on fiction #that’s natural #but don’t rewrite the story #literally Claude was my favorite character in the og 3H #I didn’t care for Rhea #my thoughts on her have formed from years of me going ‘wait that didn’t happen’ #then starting to appreciate why she did things as I looked into it #she’s a solid tragic character #fire emblem three houses #three houses #Fire Emblem #rhea fire emblem

[midnight-in-town]

Hi, sorry for troubling you. Actually I need some advice. If you think I’m too much of a nuisance please ignore me. I don't know other country’s history (not that I know much about mine). A few weeks ago I came across a post that the writer had used some historical terms to justify a character’s behavior. It had nearly 100 likes and seemed legit and persuasive like she was very knowledgeable but it sounded off to me. Those were just eliminable comic relief scenes and the character was caricaturistic. A human with a healthy mental state, average IQ, and a little sense of social grace wouldn’t act like that. The writer’s tone was hostile, too and she turned an accuracy question into a moral one. She liked that character so much that didn't even try to hide her anger. Even though the asker was anon she implied that she/he is a sucker for pretty boys and a misogynist. How would she know? I was convinced that something was off and with no hope of getting an answer, I emailed a history website and ask them if she was right, the reply was really surprising. Not just the character and those scenes but many other things are imaginary and her interpretations of those terms and conclusions are false. They told me that even the literature from that era can’t be trusted or used as reliable sources because it’s the nature of fiction to be fanciful and misleading. I sent the email to her adding nothing, assuming she’d feel guilty for implanting false knowledge in fans, but she said she had no time for haters. I don’t know anybody on Tumblr or that fandom, and no one would believe an outsider. They are already satisfied with the lies. If one cares about the truth, one searches for it. Even so, is there anything I should do? Do I have any obligation to do anything? Thank you.

Hey Anon! You are not a nuisance at all :)) although, to be honest, it's hard to give advice when I'm not fully aware of the situation you're asking about.

From my understanding, you disagree with how a blogger justified a character's behavior in a work of fiction, which was done by quoting wrong historical facts, therefore providing false information to other fans, and you're wondering how to rectify it? I hope I understood properly?

To start with, I'm sorry to say that this happens very often in fandoms across the internet.

Browsing through the internet, you will always find people who do not share similar views about characters, theories, world building, romance, authors' inspirations, etc leading to a huge gap amongst fans, depending on who agrees on what.

The reason why that exists is because people aren't always neutral when reading, therefore their opinions and expectations can color the story they read in a certain way, leading to some misconception and bias.

This literally happened in every fandom I know, so the first thing I would advise is to keep in mind that, even with good arguments, you cannot always change the mind of everyone you disagree with, because everyone reads/watches a story through a personal lens.

In other words, pick your battles: what do you accept to disagree on and what do you think is unacceptable misconception? That's for you to decide and to act on, knowing that even with good and reasonable arguments, some people just won't take your side.

Speaking of which, as a second advice: you strongly disagree with the original poster and you really don't want to let it go? Well, act on it !

Friendly reminder that, from the moment you're acquainted with a series and you enjoy it, then you already belong in its fandom. Who cares if you just joined Tumblr or if you just discovered this series? You're as much a fan as anyone else and you have a right to your opinions, just like anyone else.

So, what to do? Open the debate by reblogging the post and explain to the original poster why you disagree with her, by detailing your arguments.

Nowadays, not a lot of people comment or reblog posts anymore to offer additional thoughts: they'd rather hide behind anon mode but anonymity doesn't always allow for an open debate, on the contrary!

Myself as a blogger who receives some anon asks, I can guarantee you that I'm always nicer and more open to discussion if someone comes to me off anon, especially if it's to disagree with something I said. Because I put a blog's name on an idea and it brings a lot more humanity in the discussion. :)

Additionally, some people also think that disagreeing means being disrespectful, but that's not the case at all. You can always peacefully and kindly explain to someone why you disagree with them.

So gear up and be brave ! You disagree and it's important to you to explain why? Well, state your opinion high and loud with your blog's name, like a proud of fan of whatever series or character this is about. And again, even if you don't change their mind, that's okay, at least you stated what you had to say and that's what matters.

Lastly though, a word of caution.

To quote you : "The writer’s tone was hostile, too and she turned an accuracy question into a moral one. She liked that character so much that didn't even try to hide her anger. Even though the asker was anon she implied that she/he is a sucker for pretty boys and a misogynist. How would she know?"

As I was saying above, I think unfortunately anonymity in asks is used way too often and bloggers are from time to time fed up with getting asks or opinions without a name to address directly.

Additionally, a lot of asks are sent without necessarily taking the time beforehand to check whether or not the blogger was open to discussion on different subjects in the first place. Hence the hostile tone in answers from time to time.

Take my blog as an example: after ten years on this site, there are certain subjects that I either won't ever want to discuss or some opinions on some characters that I'm beyond fed up with. So anyone barging into my askbox as an anon on either aspects will end up deleted or blocked or maybe answered with a rather hostile tone, because I already stated my opinion ten, twenty or thirty times.

Sure it's not very nice and it doesn't please me to answer this way if I even answer, but I believe, as far as I'm concerned, that it's stated very plainly and often, enough so that people would know if they bothered to check for a second before sending an ask.

So I understand that the hostile tone and the misogyny allegations that you're describing aren't pleasing, but be sure to check why the hostility exists in the first place: is it really that the original poster is narrow-minded and can't be reasoned with ? Or is it that they are often faced with anons who don't bother acknowledging what she said in the past before asking ? Because that will definitely factor into how open-minded the original poster will be if you go for a debate.

TL;DR You can always disagree and discuss why with anyone in any fandom. However, choose your fights and, mostly, choose your weapons well:

state your opinions with your blog's name, in a reblog or in a comment, and definitely not as an anon, if you want to be taken as seriously as possible

always check beforehand about the blogger you want to debate with, so that you can understand who you're talking to a little bit better

be respectful as you disagree and all will go well

I hope it helps? Sorry if not. Have a good day Anon! ^3^

#personal #tumblr #fandom #anon #answers

[gunsli-01]

You know I don't want to make it feel like certain people shouldn't be able to vote or make theories but-

Then don't it is entirely that easy to leave people alone whose actions are not negatively affecting you. It is immensely easier than pretending to wish to avoid conflict while directly walking into it. It is even easier to show empathy and create a welcoming fandom space for people regardless of how they choose to interact with the source material. There is an endless wealth of people who will share your views and the same number of people who will not. There are so many ways to illustrate a point without creating a strawman out of others who enjoy the same thing as you do but in a way you personally find objectionable.

There is no reason to create an us vs. them mentality over these things. It's contributing to a very polarizing and negative atmosphere, and I know half of the people in this fandom are fully capable of elaborating on their points and defending their favorites without partaking in this sort of extremist behavior. Everyone should be able to vote, make theories, and have their own opinions on what exactly is going on. Saying otherwise will just lead to people growing disdainful of something they used to enjoy. If you don't like how someone else enjoys a thing then it's far easier and more enriching to work on your own expression/vocalization of your enjoyment than cut others down and try to tell them how they should express themselves.

Since trial 4 started, the Milgram fandom has gotten incredibly oppressive. It's about time people took a step back and thought about how their actions and statements in the real-world impact real people instead of concerning themselves with the wellbeing of fictional characters.

Also, if anyone wants to come at me for bringing up racial aspects regarding Milgram before stating this as a source of polarization and discomfort. It's completely fair for those aspects to be uncomfortable for some to unpack. It's also uncomfortable for me to discuss and to see overtake a fandom space I was actually comfortable within. This ties in heavily to my think about how your wording affects real people because by displaying such behavior, even in a joking way, it shows that this community is an unsafe place for certain minorities.

It has led to me debating if Milgram is something I should continue to be interested in as someone who has to face many isms and phobias in their real life. It's a hassle to write up why that isn't okay and how off-putting it can come off as.

Especially when a good deal of the vocal individuals in this community will just go x prisoner is cute, which means nothing they do can be wrong ever and regardless of if I disagree with their actions, I'll vote them Innocent on that alone or worse defend the action all together. It's uncomfortable, it's gross, and it makes the Milgram fandom unsafe to interact with and a franchise I would sooner tell individuals with similar circumstances to mine to stay away from than to watch. It's not surprising given the history individuals of color, especially black/brown people have with fandom spaces. Not even delving into Asian media specifically, but it certainly doesn't get any less annoying to deal with or see.

If that's the type of atmosphere fans of this series wish to create which at this point seems to be the case, congrats. However, if not, some reevaluation may be necessary to avoid these issues continuing to crop up. It would also be very telling if Mu's case is the only one where this issue arises, and the rest of the cases are smooth sailing.

It's not difficult to take into consideration all the clearly race related things. The stop the woke left nonsense, jokes about doctoring tapes, head canons of Mu's victim being half black, discussions around Mu's victim deserving to get stabbed and theories that despite Mu's victim being killed outside the victim attacked Mu with a chair in the classroom all being attached to Mu's case and think man wonder how the writer will spin this one not well regardless of verdict more than likely.

#milgram

[maddgicalgirl]

Paracosm Resources <3

Need help bringing your paracosm to life? Try these free resources!

⚠️ Updates always pending! Suggestions always welcome! Feel free to message me any tips or questions <3 ⚠️

(Cont. below cut, or with real time updates on this google doc!)

Art Programs

FireAlpaca - 2D Art Program, Animation. Where I make most of my digital art, and paint the frames for my animations :) It is free to use, and easy to learn and use! It can make basic animations as well, such as gifs. It requires download.

Krita - 2D Art Program. Professional, free digital paint software :) I have not used it before, though I have heard good things.

GIMP - 2D Art Program, Photo Manipulation. It's free to use, but I do not like it/recommend it highly. But! If FireAlpaca and Krita don't float your stoat, try Gimp! For 2D art, but also able to emulate Photoshop to a degree ^^

Inkscape - 2D Art Program. Free to use digital illustration software. Makes 2D art :)

Of course, who can forget classics like good old MS Paint, and the new and exciting 3D MS Paint, which can both be used to create some really neat things! Classic MS Paint is available here in browser form! If you need that. I just think it's neat!

Art AI

Petalica Paint - Coloring Software. An in browser, watercolor manga style coloring software, which can (almost) effortlessly color in any of your line art pieces! I've played around with it for my Thorn illustration style piece, and enjoyed it! It is free to use, and can take user input to make the colorations more precise.

ArtBreeder - 3D Realism Software. Using Artbreeder, you can create lifelike images of your paras, planets, or potentially even fursona, using the intricate AI they let you work with for free! A premium version exists, but most functions are fully usable without - though I recommend donating ^^ You can randomly generate, or prune and shape what you make until its perfect! Slow to use and get the hang of, but very worth it! Artbreeder is also pioneering an intriguing animation software to go alongside their product! Browser based.

3D Software

Blender - 3D Modeling, Animation. The best (in my opinion) free 3D modelling software.

MagicaVoxel - 3D Pixel Art. Free to use! Could be interesting :)

MikuMikuDance - 3D Rigging. Anime style rigging and animation software, free to use, and certified internet artefact! Has stood the test of time, and is still used and loved today. Can support ports of many kinds of assets, including, I believe, those from Blender, and of course those that are downloaded. DA has a bunch of old MMD communities you can raid for assets!

Animaze - Face Rigger. Use 3D models and a webcam to watch your paras talk! Models can be made in Blender, downloaded online, or even from CHARAT V, CHARAT GENESIS sister app!

Character Creators

CHARAT GENESIS - 2D Character Creator. Browser based anime style character creator, with multiple crops and poses, and infinitely customizable options. It is legitimately insane. Has a 3D function called CHARAT V which can apparently convert characters made in CHARAT GENESIS into 3D models compatible with Face Rig and Animaze!

V-Katsu - 3D Character Creator. Free on steam! Anime style, intensive character creator, by the same people who made Koikatsu, and Koikatsu Party, two amazingly detailed 3D hentai makers. While V-Katsu is a SFW VTuber maker, if you're looking for NSFW anime content, you could always spend roughly $70 on the full NSFW versions. V-Katsu requires a translation mod (free online as well) which you have to install, or the ability to read Kanji <3 Works with VR tech.

V-Roid Studios - 3D Character Creator. Free on steam! Anime style, fairly in depth character creator, that allows for some degree of digital 3D hand sculpting, particularly with their amazing hair engine, to get your paras looks perfect!

And, of course, Picrew has thousands of character creators of various styles and quality uploaded by the artists who made them! Also, honestly I think we as a society should embrace making dinky chibis in Gacha Life. IDK why everyone is mean to the gacha kids, like we weren't all cringe at some point,

World Design

HomeStyler - 3D and 2D Room Designer. Make a model of an interior for a home or building, using real 1:1 furniture of IRL brands! Apparently this is free to use, though there is a premium version, and  it offers 3D and 2D models.

Map to World - 3D Planet Maker. Turn your fantasy world into a 3D model of the planet. Put maps directly on, or design the surface and textures of your world. Takes a lot of getting used to, but it is AMAZING. Free to use, and browser based!

PlanetMaker - 3D Planet Maker. Make a customized 3D planet! Free to use browser site! I have never used this, but I would love to mess around with it sometime! Allows you to add orbital rings, change textures, and more at the click of a mouse.

If on sale, I also recommend snagging a copy of the Sims, particularly 3 or 4, for character creation and world design. Maybe not the best gameplay without mods, but it's also a load of fun, and very easy to add custom content to! Minecraft also. But you just need Minecraft, in general. Beyond its ability to fairly faithfully recreate structures from your paracosms, it's just Good.

Game Creators

Maybe you wanna turn your paracosm into a cool game idk, just thought I'd put these here!

Construct 3 - 2D Game Creator. Beginner level game making :) Drag-and-drop if/then style programming.

GameSalad - Codeless 2D Game Creator. Drag and drop style/no coding, beginner friendly. Free version available!

Solpeo - 2D Game Creator. HTML5 based game engine for 2D and isometric game development. Some programming knowledge needed. Platforms supported: Chrome, Firefox, Internet Explorer 9+. Free version available.

Stencyl - Codeless 2D Game Creator. Drag and drop style building/no coding skills needed. Has editable templates!

Scratch - 2D Game Creator. Very easy to use and totally free, though relatively basic!

Unity - 3D, 2D, and VR Game Creator. Make games with 3D software. Import your own assets (Blender compatible) or download free options, or buy the rights to models. Works for 3D and 2D games. Free version available, and now works with VR tech!

Unreal Engine - 3D Game Creator. Extremely advanced 3D game developer. Highly customizable. Free to use!

Twine - Text-based Game Creator. Use a map to make a branching paths text-based story game. Free to use.

Squiffy - Text-based Game Creator. have used Squiffy and it can make some really, truly incredible things. Can take a while to pick up, and learn how to use to its full potential. Free to use! Has an online and offline library of player creations you can get inspiration from!

Quest - Text-based Game Creator. I've never used this, but it seems cool! Use it to make interactive text-based DND game adventures in browser.

Ren'Py - Visual Novel Creator. Visual novel engine, that is well acclaimed, and of course, free to use!

Companion AI

Replika - 3D Companion.

Kajiwoto - Chatbot Companion. Customizable, learning AI you can shape into a personality. Communicates via Discord like chat box.

Organization

Toyhou.se - Character Gallery. A customizable library where you can upload all of your paras and characters for the public to view! Free to use, but requires a premium member to invite you!

Refsheet - Character Gallery. I haven't used it before, but I've heard good things, and that it's a suitable alternative to toyhou.se if you can't get an invite!

Notebook.AI - Character Gallery. I haven't used it before, but I've heard good things, and that it's a suitable alternative to toyhou.se if you can't get an invite!

World Anvil - World Building Toolset. Like character galleries, but for worlds and their lore :)

Scabard - World Building Toolset. Aimed at DnD campaigners, but I reckon it'll be useful for many!

YARPS - World Building Toolset. More focused around story and lore than Scabard or World Anvil, and looks beautiful! Still in its prototype stage, however.

Pinterest - Photo Organizer. Look at, collect, and sort images into boards. Personalizes your feed based on that, and is free to use and join! However, unlike their myriad of wonderful recipes, DIY tutorials, and the likes - a lot of the images are uploaded by second parties and not credited, so be careful reuploading anything you find! Also great for finding outfits and art inspo for your paras!

Generators

Fantasy Name Generator - Name Generators. Does what it says on the tin! Generates fantasy names. Is a lovely website, run by a purportedly lovely woman.

Fantasy Map Generator - Map Generator. Randomly generates a fictional map, which you can view in 2D or 3D.

Donjon RPG Generator - Multiple Generators. Can make maps, weapons, items, etc.

Seventh Sanctum - Multiple Generators. One of my favorites from high school! Does all kinds of things - the standard items, spells, and names - but also prompts, backstories, characters, and even comedy generators!

ShindanMaker - Multiple Generators. User created and uploaded, any kind of generator you can imagine, of varying complexity. And when I say any generator? I mean ANY generator.

Audio

Audacity - Record and Edit Audio. What can't Audacity do? I love Audacity to death. At surface level, it records audio. I've used it to record voices for my paras, and get audio for animations and games I've worked on. I cannot recommend it enough. Comprehensive editing, and with some investigation, it can do so, so much more than just record simple dialogue.

FL Studios - Compose. Compose music with an unlimited free trial. Upgrades available for purchase!

Indie Game Music - Royalty Free Music Library. Free to use Indie Game Music. What it says on the box!

AudioJungle - Royalty Free Music and Audio Library. Thousands of free to use audio clips!

Online Piano - Someone could use this, for recording, or just messing around. I've seen plenty of paras who play piano, this could just be used for fun!

Online Guitar - Same reasons as above, but this site looks kinda sketchy. Use at your own risk or reward! Audio

For real, if you ever need music, sound effects, or really any MP3 clips that can be used without infringing on copyright laws, just search 'royalty free' (music/audio/insert thing here) same applies for photos! Make sure the source is reputable, however.

Tutorials

W3Schools - Coding. Learn the basics of coding, for free, online!

Miscellaneous

Debut Video Capture - Screen Recorder. Record game footage and let's plays for free! Professional and home versions. I see a few of our community members have paras who run YouTube channels, and I thought these might help! It could be a nice way to connect your parames. YouTube quality <3

Pixton - Comic Maker. Comic making website. I have no experience with this at all, but some may find it useful!

Picfont - Image Editor. Puts customizable text on an image. I used these for @paraesthetics paracosm header edits <3 It has a premium version (???) but the free version has all functions, but it crashes regularly (honestly seems timed :/) but once you get it down, it's a very quick process, and you won't have to worry about that at all.

Itch.io - Publishing. You can publish your self made games here :)

Korsakow - ??? Described as, "The Future of Storytelling" and is apparently a way to create interactive films. I *just* found out about this, but thought I should include it for someone who may know how to use and appreciate it! Free? Unknown, at the moment.

Tips and Tricks

Animation Done Easy

Our forefather's of internet animation used MS Paint, Windows Movie Maker, and Audacity. All of these, or their equivalents, are free on standard computers. I, personally, use FireAlpaca - which works just as well, if not better, than MS Paint for animation - but takes longer, and definitely lacks that retro feeling. I also use my trackpad to draw and animate everything, so its doable, but probably not totally comfortable, to animate like this for most people :)

⚠️ Updates always pending! Suggestions always welcome! Feel free to message me any tips or questions <3 ⚠️

#immersive daydreaming #paraportal #paracosm #paracosms #paracosmonaut #madd art #art resources #masterpost #free resources

[wh6res]

taeyong — part of the my bloody valentine collection.

prompt. when your soulmate gets a wound or cut, flowers bloom on the same spot in your body.

synopsis. you’re desperate to meet your soulmate. maybe you can put a stop to the flowers stubbornly blooming on your wrists.

warnings. tread cautiously. mentions of mental illness (depression, attempted suicide), swearing, manipulation, implied self-harm, dubious content, forced relationship, unconsensual touching near the end, ty pulling the sadboi agenda

disclaimer. a friendly reminder that i do not, under any circumstance, condone or support any acts like this. this is not love and this is not how a normal relationship should be like. the things i write are all fiction and should be treated as such and if you don’t like it, please do not read it and waste your time hating on it. the 9 members of nct 127 do not act like this in real life and shouldn’t act like this in real life.

by the time you’re graduating high school, you’re used to the sorry glances people sent your way. 

for someone so young, you have more flowers blooming on your skin than any adult. a few small pieces of it blooming in the corner of your cheek, near the jawline. a few of them on your thighs. 

but the most concerning piece is the one on your wrists that are fully covered by the flowers, your skin nowhere to be seen with all the lilies of the valley tainting your skin. 

yet the worse has got to be the summer before senior year. you had been halfway done with the college entrance examination for a local university. your parents said the pain you felt the first time will turn into a mild itch whenever the flowers form on your skin. 

it started small, absentmindedly scratching at something on your neck. initially, you thought it was the heat, your sweat, and the fabric of your clothes irritating the sensitive skin. but when you walked up to the proctor to turn in your exam, you knew that apologetic stare like nothing else—but his eyes had flickered down to your neck. 

when your friends blew up your phone, asking where you are to celebrate, you lied and headed straight back home, head ducked, collars upturned, hiding the lilies of the valley wrapped around your throat like some insignia. 

a year later, you end up studying soulmate theory in university. they say it’s a useless course as there can be no scientific explanation to soulmates. you like thinking you chose the course because of sheer interest but really, you’re just finding an explanation, some external reason that probably bore no results but you trudged forward anyway. 

you’re restless in the pursuit of finding him—or her, you couldn’t care less. the hurt you feel weighs heavy in your heart each time you feel them blooming on your wrist, mind plagued with worry. 

your roommate interrupts your deep thinking as she practically throws herself onto your bed. “i have an idea!” she cheers, determined. “why not part-time in the school clinic? that way if people come in, you can compare their cuts to your flowers.”

“now, you just might be onto something there.”

the hunt for your soulmate still wasn’t easy despite working in the university’s clinic and it only got worse each day. your schedule is killing you, you’re slightly getting behind in some subjects, and you practically live in the library. 

contrary to popular opinions, soulmate theory can be a fucking bitch to study about. what with learning psychology, astrology, and botany all together. it was interesting how all these things can be factors in how people are paired to become soulmates. interesting, but rather complicated in a sense, too. 

they say psychology and astrology dealt with two people’s compatibility. while botany, the meanings of the flowers themselves, was theorized to predict how the soulmate connection will affect their relationship—ultimately, roses were a really, really good sign. 

you have been busy messing up your hair, utterly frustrated and irate—astronomy’s messing with your head and you can’t go a minute without scratching your wrists as the flowers bloomed after the other. 

then something unexpected happened. 

a lanky guy dressed in an all-black ensemble walked into the clinic. well, it was more of a being carried between two guys by the arms rather than walked in. everything about his clothes looked way too big to fit his delicate frame and it hardly looked like it was for fashion style purposes. his skin hugged his body to the bone, eyes sunken, and he looked so frail that a tiny shove would’ve sent him sprawled on the floor. 

his name was taeyong and he lied on the bed unconscious, with handkerchiefs wrapped around his wrists like bandages—courtesy of his friends, who looked deathly worried for the fate of their poor friend. if he had lost any more blood, he would’ve died. you had never seen the clinic in such chaos, people running around, anxious. your leg muscles were sore from going back and forth from the nurse’s side to the cabinets storing all the medical supplies she needed. 

it had been a whirlwind, and after your superior had patched and properly bandaged his cuts, you were left to look after him in the meantime as nurse jung tried contacting his guardian. 

his friends—who you learned were named yuta and jaehyun, were snoozing outside on the bench across the hall, parallel with the clinic’s double-glass door, as they waited for their friend to wake up. 

depression. suicidal. taeyong has been like that for his whole life, jaehyun stated earlier. you can only shoot a sorry look at the unconscious boy lying on the hospital bed. 

it had already been dark outside when you came in to switch out his bandages for new ones—only to realize that his cut is exactly where you had been scratching earlier before he showed up. 

you retracted, unbelieving of what that possibly entails. along the way, you’ve pieced together that your soulmate is probably struggling through something heavy, something that weighed him down so much that it made him believe hurting himself is the only solution, what with all the flowers on your skin. 

“it’s him…” you mumble, wide eyed as you eyed the faded scars around his wrists, eerily aligned to the flowers blooming on your own. 

you didn’t want to overwhelm him, that much was sure. you didn’t want to chase him away if he gets uncomfortable. so for weeks you started leaving anonymous notes in his locker. not the sappy love letter types, just little words of encouragement that could make his day better. 

when their friend breaks out into the tiniest of smiles, yuta and jaehyun’s thankful eyes would scour around the halls. sneakily looking for you behind taeyong’s back. they understood where you’re coming from and hadn’t spoken a word of disagreement when you told them you didn’t plan to make yourself known as his soulmate yet. 

and as if the notes were not enough, you start giving him his favorite starbucks drink every now and then—on days the flowers didn’t bloom as much as it normally would. you turn up half an hour early before lectures so you can place it on the table where he usually sits with his two best friends. even if his class is on the other side of campus, you’d still go. 

but it only took three weeks of creeping around until you’re caught by your soulmate himself. 

“do you want something from me?”

you didn’t know what to say, cat got your tongue as you stood before him holding the drink. you couldn’t weasel your way out and say the drink’s yours, not when he caught you standing before his usual seat, not when you were already leaning forward to place it on his desk.

“uhm… i…” you stutter pathetically, not being able to meet the intensity of his eyes. 

“jaehyun and yuta aren’t exactly the most lowkey, especially with how much their eyes wander when i open my locker. so, do you want something from me? what are you playing at, stalker?”

the name he called you stung like a bitch but you can’t blame him for it. you knew him, he doesn’t know you. you’re giving him gifts anonymously. even if they were all from the goodness of your heart, from an outsider’s view, your actions still appeared sketchy.

“soulmate,” you correct him. 

you watch his features twist into confusion, only for it to morph into shock once he’s digested what you just said. eventually, he schools his expression back to indifference. his stoic face is so intimidating, you thought, biting your bottom lip and fidgeting on your toes. 

“what?”

“i’m your—i’m your soulmate.”

his eyes flicker downwards to peak a glance at the bouquet of flowers painted on your skin. colors as beautiful and vibrant as the day you got them, the stems of the bell-shaped flowers intricately woven into each other. for a split second, you even twist your arms a little, showing him the rock hard proof of your claim. 

ever since you found him, you’ve always contemplated for the better part of your limited free time about what his reaction will be when he finds out you two are soulmates. will he accept you? or worse case scenario, pretend you didn’t exist? the possibilities are unknown especially with someone who seems to be going through so much that the last thing they wanted is this person who thinks they’re entitled to be part of their lives because the universe made it be that way. 

not that you feel entitled… taeyong can reject you all he wants and you’ll give him the space he needs—

he’s crying. 

and not the simple, small tears slowly streaming down his face one by one type of crying, no, his tears were an onslaught. full-on sobbing as he threw himself onto you, wrapping his arms tight around your shoulders as he buried his face into your neck, words heavily muffled by your coat. 

“is it—” he hiccups. “true?”

you blink, from all the reactions you’ve gone through in your head, crying was the very last thing you expected from him—crying and hugging you like you’re the last person on earth and he’s been touch-starved until he found you. 

maybe that was the case. 

you wonder what jaehyun and yuta felt whenever taeyong ditched them to spend time with you—and that was pretty much all the time since he’s found you. he’s like a puppy, following you around wherever you go (unless he has classes) and had been neglecting his friends. whether it was intentional or not, whether his two friends were cool with it or not, you don’t know. 

you try your best to smile every time he runs up to you on the other end of the hall, spotting you coming out of your own respective classroom after lectures are done. 

he’s beaming like a child, inviting you to this cafe he wants to take you to—and pathetic ‘lil ‘ol you just can’t seem to say no to those huge expecting eyes.

but you’re not blind to the slight scowl on yuta’s face nor the razor sharp smile on jaehyun’s features. they want to hang out together, just boys, but now there’s this soulmate who’s suddenly more important than them—what happened to bros before hoes?

but they knew taeyong needed you. heck, he never once smiled like the way he did before he met you. it was like he’s become this whole new person with a child-like innocence reflecting his eyes. 

“so?” your soulmate prompts just as his two friends came over, flanking him. 

taeyong deflates the moment he sees the hesitance in your eyes. “uhm… i actually have a shift in the clinic, and nurse jung said the clinic isn’t some hang out place, so you can’t, uhh…” you trail, not wanting to finish the sentence. 

a little white lie can’t hurt anyone, right? 

taeyong shouldn’t depend on you all the time, not when he also has friends who care about his well-being and mental health just as much as you do. being soulmates didn’t mean he has to spend every waking moment with you and the faster he realizes, the better. 

when you dashed away before he could even mutter out a reply, you miss the frown on his face, his eyes never once leaving your frame until you turned the corner. 

people often favor the underdog. they have this gnawing urge in their gut to sympathize and unknowingly root for their own plot twist or happy ending. 

people look at you and your soulmate and think you have poor, suicidal and depressed and sad taeyong eating at the palm of your hand, following you around like a lonely duckling—the undeniable underdog in a coming-of-age movie, the person shoved around until some bigger, more capable person comes to their rescue (in this case you, unfortunately).

but appearances have always been deceiving. 

your little 3-week head start with getting to know your soulmate had only been on surface-level. you just wanted to help him but taeyong’s obvious attraction—can you even call it that? you’d like to think it’s more of infatuation—is off-putting for you. from standing way too close to putting an arm around you, from walking you to your lectures to walking you home, from the light headpats to having the guts to kiss your cheeks. 

it’s too much and it wasn’t as if you basked in the public display of affection. whenever you tried telling him off in the most gentlest of ways, taeyong would frown and curl in on himself, eyes glossy, darting around, and looking like a kicked puppy. 

you couldn’t leave him like that just because of some harmless skinship, right? he’s just excited and happy he’s found you. weren’t you also the first one to initiate? with all those notes and gifts you’ve given him? and now you’re backing away just because of a few touches?

“you know,” your roommate plops herself on the couch next to you, netflix movie playing as background. “you’re not obligated to fix him. you’re his soulmate, not his psychiatrist.”

you sigh, head diving into the couch pillows. “i’m not trying to fix him, i’m just…”

she raises a prodding eyebrow. 

“…i’m just trying to be there for him.”

taeyong likes to think that he wasn’t doing it on purpose. but the sense of rush and sick pleasure running up and down his spine whenever you force a smile and give in to his wishes proves otherwise. 

all his life he’s been pushed around. tasked to buy his old man beer and cigarettes and an assortment of drugs. if he turns up empty handed, guess who becomes a punching bag? and he has always been alienated throughout his school life. immature elementary kids aren’t exactly the kindest and would’ve picked on every single thing to appear cool to their friend groups. and poor little scrawny taeyong who didn’t speak and didn’t defend himself was just too easy of a target. 

“uhm… you don’t—don’t need to walk me home all the time.” do you think so low of him that you believe he doesn’t sense your fake little giggle?

“but i like walking you home,” he pouts, jutting his lips just a wee bit more for extra measure. he makes sure his eyes are as round and glossy as can be, he noticed those puppy eyes are what gets to you the most. 

he can tell by your tense shoulders, the clear hesitance in your face, that smile that looked too sweet to be real, and your averting eyes. you needn’t say anything for taeyong to figure you out. he isn’t blind to the lack of comfort you’ve developed by being with him. 

he has to think of something or else you’ll be slipping through the gaps of his fingers.

he asked you out on valentine’s day. it wasn’t the simple, forgettable act of popping out the “hey, do you want to go out on a date with me?” question while holding a bouquet of flowers. taeyong made sure you’ll never forget this certain day that he had laid his claim on you—not that it needed to be vocalized, it was his wounds that made flowers bloom on your skin. the soulmate connection should be enough.

but taeyong wanted to go the extra mile.

with the help of his friends (yuta’s popular and jaehyun can be very persuasive), he’s got people handing you lilies of the valley every ten feet until you reach the auditorium in the main building. despite it blooming on your skin you’ve never really seen them in the flesh. they’re like dew drops, bell-like flowers growing in an elegant dip from it’s main stem and appearing no bigger than your thumb.

you were awed, but skeptical.

you meet taeyong by the end of your little journey, standing on a decorated stage with a bouquet of the flowers nestled delicately in his hands. the natural sunlight bleeding through the open windows giving him such a beautiful glow that you couldn’t take your eyes off him. he had smiled and timidly gave you the flowers while asking.

“will you be my girlfriend?” 

if only you’d look close enough, that sugar coated smile contrasted greatly to the sly flickers in his eyes. he knows how your actions are dictated by the reputation you’ve built. taeyong knows you'll say yes, because if you didn't, how could you have rejected your own soulmate who has made you the light of his life? he’s been nothing but kind to you and you’ve only pushed him away! you’re a monster! you should’ve saved him!

if him alone can’t make you say yes, maybe the pressure-induced stare of the whole student body can.

and as you shivered amidst taeyong’s suffocating hug, feeling the triumphant smirk against your head and his prodding nose as he sniffed your hair, you now understood why your body bloomed this specific woodland flower. 

lilies of the valley are beautiful.

but lilies of the valley are poisonous, too.

the flowers remind you of taeyong. 

making things official has only made things worse. taeyong has promised you that after being together he won’t try hurting himself anymore and that he’s a big boy and he can attend his therapy sessions alone. but the itching in your skin is as constant as ever and you just got off the phone with the receptionist of the clinic he goes to. 

“are things alright? i haven’t seen taeyong since three weeks ago.”

if there’s one thing you absolutely hate doing with your soulmate, it’s confrontations. for the three months you’ve been together, taeyong has always, always spiraled out whenever you confront him about something. be it the mildest or the most superficial thing, what started out small will turn into a complete whirlwind and he’d be in a fit of tears by the end of it.

every single time. 

you prefer happy taeyong than sad taeyong—if you can avoid it for as long as you can, you will. but you’re at your breaking point. him lying to you about his therapy sessions is the pin that popped the little balloon of security you’ve been protecting. 

when you arrive home, he’s already there, crouched and sifting through your bookshelf. it wasn’t a surprise or anything out of the ordinary, he possesses the key to invite himself into your apartment any time. “hey, you’re home!” he immediately stands, barreling towards you. 

he encircles his arms around you protectively as he pulls you flush against his body. you feel the tip of his nose prodding against your neck, hearing him inhaling your scent like cannabis. 

you learned to ignore it, this habit of his—but just because you do doesn’t make you any less uncomfortable than the first time he did it.

you don’t bother hugging him back. 

you were too pissed off to keep up with pretenses. 

“the clinic called, said you weren’t attending your sessions. why were you lying to me?” 

when pushed into a corner, you were never one to beat around the bush.

“i don’t like going alone, i told you that, remember?” he quickly replied, shoving you away. “i wouldn’t have to lie to you if you would just come with me for my sessions, don’t you think? you’re blowing this out of proportion when it’s all your fault.”

you wanted to pull at your hair. scratch that, you wanted to pull at his hair—no, not in that kind of way. 

“how the fuck—” you stop. taeyong hates it when you curse. cursing will do you more harm than good. you inhale through your nostrils, willing yourself to calm down. “how is this my fault? i told you i have to run errands for professor kim!”

“then quit working there! they’re not even paying you, it’s just for extra credit! which you wouldn’t even fucking need if you weren’t flunking astronomy so bad.” taeyong must’ve seen your features twisting into that of betrayal. he was there when you were crying your eyes out because you failed the exam. he knew the subject was taking such a big toll on you. 

how could he…

“don’t fucking look at me like that, kitten. you know it’s the truth.”

what is the point of this, some form of payback he’s subjecting you to? just because you didn’t come with him to his sessions? six months in this relationship and you already feel so drained, how would the universe expect you to keep up for a whole fucking lifetime together with him?

“why…” you choke, the tears building up in your eyes as your voice breaks. “so what do you want me to do, then?” you ask, because you genuinely don’t know. 

does he want you to choose? is that it? you didn’t want to lose the credits, but you didn’t want to lose this relationship either, no matter how much you’re drowning in the toxicity of it all. 

because this is your soulmate. 

certainly, the universe wouldn’t destine you to each other if it would only bring forth chaos, right? taeyong has mentioned time and time again that this is his first relationship. of course, he’s depending on you to show him the ropes. 

but it seems he isn’t really a big fan of how you do things. 

“quit.”

you shake your head defeatedly. “you know i can’t. i’d have to take the whole subject again next semester and—”

“i said quit, dollface.” the finality in his tone renders you speechless. “then fucking take the subject again next semester! i don’t care. that’s your consequence for neglecting your major. why the fuck do i have to suffer, too, if my soulmate is such a failure?”

his words cut deep, deeper than flesh, cutting through bone as your knees the urge to buckle and collapse before him. “taeyong, please—”

“honestly, i don’t even know what you’re doing with that professor. you always brush it off whenever i ask you!” the glare he sends could kill. “is this… is this why you’re so adamant about not quitting? then again… what kind of professor is willing to pass his students just by interning for him? i can’t believe i’m only realizing this now!”

this is bad. this is very, very bad. 

“whatever you’re thinking about is not true! trust me—”

but as if he can’t hear you, he dawdles on, trying to connect the dots when there is absolutely nothing to connect. 

“you suck dick for grades? how could you do this to me? how can you do that to yourself?” 

you don’t understand exactly why he’s crying again so you don’t say anything. not because his fierce accusations were right but because even if you try hard to convince him that nothing is going on with your astronomy professor, he’d still cry and whine and paint you to be the bad guy. 

“what… what use do i have in this world if my soulmate thinks i’m not enough? and i lost you to some guy who smelled like prunes of all people!” you would have laughed if the situation had been different, but taeyong was dead serious. “i’m useless. i’ve been useless with my family, my friends, and now you. i can never do anything right, can i? i can never make anyone stay. i can’t even make you stay!”

and like a switch that has been flicked off, your conflicted emotions vanish in thin air. gone are every trickle of anger, confusion, and irritation you felt as he makes a beeline to the coffee table, smashing the little ornamental fish bowl and pointing a shard against his dainty wrists. 

“no!” you tackle him to the ground, groaning when you feel the shard dig into your side yet you made no effort to get off of him. blindly, you reach, twisting his wrist to drop the piece of glass. “you promised!” you wail, clutching the collars of his shirt as you pull him close to you. “stop, stop hurting yourself.”

you feel him shaking his head, his own onslaught of tears staining your shirt as the negativity he’s been bottling pours over like a tsunami, dragging you under the currents with him. “no, no, no…” you splutter, snot running disgustingly down your nostrils. “it’s not true, none of that is true. you’re my love, my moonlight, i’d never betray you for anyone or anything!”

“but—but your professor, the internship—”

“i’ll quit. i’ll take the subject again next semester, it’s not a big deal, okay? don’t worry, i’m here. i’m so sorry!”

it was all too easy.

the thing with noble people like you is the foolish sense of responsibility lying underneath your skin, it’s gravitational pull so strong that you don’t bother to think before you speak, to think before you act, to think before you make promises, because what’s important isn’t yourself, it’s the person lying meek and helpless before you. 

quit, you say? taeyong wants something more.

the evil lying inside pandora’s box can never remain dormant, not when meddlesome people like you who think with a one-track mind pull the lid off its hinges, preaching how every evil can have their own redemption.

a hand finds purchase around your waist as an eerie blissful smile stretches on his lips, eyes clouded over. “really? i’m your moonlight?”

“yes—”

“would you prove it to me?”

he doesn’t make room for your hesitance to settle, he lunges, hands wrapping around your face to pull you into a kiss. it wasn’t like all the other kisses you’ve shared with him, no, this one had a dark, underlying purpose. his hands digging into your open wound to make it bleed, tongue sliding into your mouth the moment you gasped in pain.

your hands press on his chest, trying to push him away but taeyong’s thoughts are running wild. you blush in sheer humiliation when he lets out an almost pornographic moan. with a sinking realization, you’ve become hyper aware of something poking at your abdomen.

no, not yet. you weren’t ready yet!

“taeyong, wait—i’m not—”

“you said you love me, didn’t you?”

#nct imagines #taeyong imagines #nct scenarios #taeyong scenarios #yandere taeyong #yandere kpop #yandere nct #yandere nct 127 #idk how to tag stuff geez

[moved-19871997]

I feel like I need to defend epithets real quick because they are absolutely overused and that gets cumbersome to read, but I also think people jump too quickly to “do not use them at all”. I’m gonna try and brief in this because ultimately this is a non-issue and fully up to personal taste but it’s just something I personally have so many thoughts on— (gonna use c!DTeam as examples here since your example was DreamXD and c!George lol)

Epithets are useful! They’re good. They’re just only good in certain situations. Writers often fall into a trap of “I must show, don’t tell” so they use words like ‘the taller man’ or ‘the blonde’ for Dream, and that isn’t productive. Just use his name or ‘he’. People will catch up. However! If a sentence is pertaining to that attribute - say, if Dream was grabbing something off a high shelf - then that would work. If you have Sapnap frustrated cuz he can’t reach something, then saying ‘The taller man reached up and grabbed it’ makes sense situationally. Especially if the narration is from Sapnap’s point of view, it makes sense for him to note at that moment that Dream is taller.

In defense of the hair color thing (which is SO much more overused and does bother me quite a bit, though I definitely fall victim to using it in a pinch) - using hair color makes sense if you are describing someone’s appearance. If you are describing a new outfit, for example, it helps to use hair color because it’s a reminder to the viewer of what the character looks like. ie. ‘The brunette wore a dark blue suit’ is more descriptive than ‘George wore a dark blue suit’. My one thing for this is that this is more advice for original writing than fanfiction because in fanfiction, everyone already knows what the character looks like. With original fiction, you are being introduced to a new character, which is why it’s more useful there to remind your reader what they look like.

Ultimately it is all about personal taste though. I like writing epithets more than I like reading them, (probably because I know exactly why I use each other but I can’t read other writers minds to see why THEY use them) so I understand where you’re coming from. I think it’s good advice in general to cut back in epithets, but there’s no harm in occasional use for them ^-^ I’m biased because I hate reading a character’s name over and over again in a paragraph, but that also comes down to personal taste in writing.

yeah all my points were for fanfic bc my main gripe w epithets is that u already know what they look like its not particularly neccessary to reinterate unless something is changing or its outsider pov or the pov character doesnt know the other one yet and i do understand ur points i feellikethe work better for og fic not fanfic where u know dream is taller (and in that specific situation u can extract adn assume he's taller bc he can reach the shelf where sapnap cant) n yeah i do want to say that like . all of this is my opinion and im not a professional writer in any sense and ofc its personal taste n thigsn

#i tyhink it depends what u think fades into the background #for me names will fade away and i wont notice #but i will pick up on being told that dream has blond hair over and over ygm #long post #[redacted] tumblr user #asks

[asterekmess]

1-11 Scott/Posey Stans always try to deflect criticism of the way Scott McCall is written in Teen Wolf by claiming that ANY attempt by a fan, a viewer, or a critic of holding Scott to a level of behavior that one would expect of a character who is a main and the self-proclaimed hero of the show is “racism”. Except that their accusations don’t make any sense whatsoever, because Scott’s canonical shitty actions and behavior don’t stem from his race (or canonical lack of thereof.)

Okay hun, this is a doozy, so I’m putting it under a Read More.

2-11 Scott McCall is mean. He’s mean to Stiles, he’s mean to Allison, he’s mean to Derek, he’s mean to Peter, he’s mean to Cora, he’s mean to Lydia, he’s mean to Jackson, he’s mean to Erica, he’s mean to Isaac, he’s mean to Malia, he’s mean to Malia, he’s mean to Kira, he’s mean to Liam, he’s mean to Chris, and he’s even mean to Theo (“You are barely even human!”) Scott McCall is deliberately rude to the Hales, Boyd, Ethan, Danny, Hayden, Jiang, Tierney, and Melissa.

3-11 Scott McCall deliberately USES, INSULTS, HUMILIATES and DEHUMANIZES people in ways that demonstrate that he is fully aware of what he’s doing. Scott McCall deliberately disregards other people’s needs in order to fulfill his own. Tyler Posey being half Mexican doesn’t change the fact that his fictional character Scott McCall is a whiny coward and an abusive piece of trash,

4-11 and that his so called ‘defense squad’ enjoys the power fantasy that Scott can be cruel, can lie, can assault, can lash out, can violate other people’s boundaries, bodily autonomy and consent, can commit premeditated murder, can break the law without impunity, can dehumanize, can gaslight and victim blame his friends to his heart’s content and no one should ever hold it against him

5-11 In both the production and in some Scott supremacist fanfics, there’s often the premise that people are evil and in the wrong if they call Scott out on his bullshit or hold his toxic behavior against him. Take Season 1. As much as the Scott McCall defense squad brigade love framing Stiles and Derek getting shit done and prioritizing people’s life over Scott’s jealous fits and temper tantrums as the height of depravity

6-11 Scott/Posey Stans consciously and steadfastly ignore all the cruel things that Scott says and does throughout the seasons, such as “How much Adderall have you had today?” OR “What are you trying to do?! I just made first line! I got a date with a girl who I can't believe wants to go out with me and everything in my life is perfect! Why are you trying to ruin it?!” OR “The hunters had a reason to slaughter your entire family and pack”

7-11 (As an aside, it’s amazing to me how Fanon rewrites Scott as this brilliant thinker and strategist and mastermind who is so much smarter and better than everyone else in every way even though Canon Scott spends the entirety of Teen Wolf doing absolutely nothing except get his ass handed to him by everyone, whining about wanting to be popular/get his dick wet/play lacrosse, screaming at his friends and girlfriends, being utterly useless when left to his own devices,

8-11 and planning to bite Stiles against his will because he doesn’t know what to do. But I digress.) Or take Season 5. In the rain argument in Lies of Omission (5x09), Scott McCall’s hypocritical, dehumanizing speech to Stiles is one of the meanest, cruelest, most disgusting manipulations I have ever seen a television character deliver to another television character they supposedly cared about. It’s victim blaming and gaslighting at its vilest.

9-11 And, of course, the Scott McCall defense squad focuses exclusively on the idea that Stiles didn’t behave “the right way” in that scene (AKA taking Scott’s bullshit without clapping back like Scott wanted and demanded), and cannot entertain for one moment the idea that Scott provoked that response by dehumanizing Stiles and by accusing Stiles of being a violent, dangerous, inhuman monster and serial killer based on Theo’s words alone.

10-11 After all, it’s part of their power fantasy. Scott being “abandoned” and “mistreated” by his “ungrateful” friends serves another type of fantasy: the poor oppressed martyr. It doesn’t matter why Scott is abandoned or who is leaving Scott, it’s all about Scott McCall’s right to own people and demand his friends’ love, friendship, loyalty, sympathy, forgiveness, obedience and devotion without having to account for his own abusive behavior.

11-11 And that’s Scott Stans’ point: Only Scott McCall Is Important and Damn Derek/Stiles/Liam/Other Teen Wolf character for having a life and motivations that don’t revolve around Scott! To them (and to Canon Scott), the pack exists not to serve all its members, but to serve and validate Scott McWhinyCall. Because, after all, that’s what antis want for themselves – validation in the face of shortcomings and bad behavior.

Wow, that was a lot of anger. Do you feel any better after venting that? I really hope so, it honestly looks p cathartic. Okay, I apologize in advance if I don’t come across as quite so passionate, I’m kinda bleh today and I already used up all my righteous fury in an earlier post, so I’ll do my best.

I honestly understand the worry about people disliking Scott as having racist motivations. As I said in another post, there aren’t a lot of Latino (wait, I read somewhere to use latine? Should I use that instead? I’ll use that, someone correct me if I’m wrong. The thing also said latinx was not great bc of pronunciation issues? I’m not educated enough on this. Halp, please.) Latine protagonist characters in popular television, especially for teen dramas like Teen Wolf. Intentional or not, written into the show or not, Scott is half-latine. His mother is a latine woman. We don’t see them speak spanish or take part in any specific cultural traditions, but that doesn’t make him white. Yes, his character was written for a white guy, but Tyler Posey is the one who got the part and we can’t strip him of his heritage just because the show originally meant for Scott to be white. My husband is almost always mistaken for white, even though he’s also half-latine, but that doesn’t make him any less latine. There’s little enough representation as it is, and if we start being picky about whether characters were ‘intended’ or ‘written’ as POC, everything will just fall to shit. Plus, as a white person, I have literally no rights to decide that Scott’s white. I’m cool with that. Would prefer to just stay in my lane, if I’m honest. With Scott established as being a POC, it’s totally reasonable for other POC and fans of Scott to be worried that those of us who don’t like him have that opinion because of either passive or active racism. There are a lot of occasions where Protags of Color were either liked less, or actively disliked for just being ‘not white.’ It also doesn’t help that Scott is one of very few “good” Characters of Color in TW (whether we agree or not, he is presented as a ‘good guy’). We have Boyd, who dies in 3A and doesn’t get much character developement in the meantime, and Kira, who sticks around for a while, then has to leave because of ‘losing control’ which is apparently a very common stereotype for POC, especially within Fantasy or Supernatural settings. Other than them, the other POC are either bad guys or just morally dubious. I’m not sure where Deaton falls on the scale either. I understand it being frustrating to some people for us to take one of the few “good’ characters and see him/describe him as a villain. It’s important for white people, and honestly, anyone not latine (because even POC can be racist against people who aren’t their race) to be self-aware and analyze the various reasons why we dislike Scott and make sure that we aren’t accidentally being passively racist. Just because we’re sure we aren’t, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t double check. And if we find we are, then it’s up to us to correct that mindset and educate ourselves. There is no shame in learning that you have not great habits or mindsets and working to fix them. That’s how growth works. It’s equally important that when we’re writing fic, we watch how we portray him and the other POC in the show. I’m not saying we can’t write Scott bashing fic. Fuck knows that I’ve written plenty of Bad Friend Scott McCall fic, and I don’t intend to stop. But we still need to be self-critical and make sure that we’re not writing Scott (or the others, please assume from here on out I’m saying Scott and the others) into racist stereotypes. We shouldn’t reduce him to just a “Yes” man, or make him constantly submissive, or constantly vicious and angry and mean for no reason. It’s one thing to write him as doing something bad or cruel and making it realistic for the story. It’s quite another to have him just randomly pop in to say “fuck you” and hit someone (I’m not referencing something specific here, I’m just saying dumb stuff). Honestly, I don’t know enough about this and I’m not really entitled to go into too much more detail. Instead, I’d recommend that even if you don’t think you’re hating Scott for racist reasons, still read This Post about racism in fandom/fanfic. When I read it, it was both reassuring and intimidating. I have anxiety, so I’m usually worried about doing things for ‘the wrong reason’ even when that’s not actually my reason for doing the thing. Reading this gave me a clearer view of my own thoughts, and it honestly made me feel a little more comfortable with my own mentality because it gave me a structure to think about and consider when I’m worried that I’m doing something racist. It’s worth the read. I’d also like to reiterate the suggestion on that post, to check out the blog Writing with Color, which is a great resource for writing Characters of Color. It doesn’t have as many resources for fanfiction writing and the grey area involved in writing characters that your reader already knows, but their ask box is closed at the moment, so maybe when it opens again someone’ll send in an ask about it (If I actually remember to, I’ll do it myself, but that’s unlikely, so if one of you feels so inspired, please do so and help a fic writer out!)

Now. I cannot speak for every single fan of TW who is anti-Scott in some way. Obviously not. But, I can speak for myself and for the experiences I’ve had within the fandom. My issues with Scott are many and complex and a lot of it is intrinsically connected to issues with the writing of the show in general and with the creators and the calls they made. In all the conversations that I’ve had with other fans, I’ve never seen anyone list Scott’s race as a problem. I’ve never seen anyone talk about how they wished he were more submissive or more obedient. Maybe that he would listen to actual adults once in a while, but not that he be unreasonably obedient of white characters. I’m not all-knowing on the subject of racist stereotypes, but nearly every complaint I’ve seen was based on details from the show and specific moments and dialogue, not just a general disgust with his existence. Furthermore, for all the anger I see directed at those of us that prefer Stiles, Derek, or even Peter, I’ve also never talked to anyone who liked those characters who wasn’t willing to admit that there were plenty of points in canon where they fucked up or did something wrong. Again, I don’t know everyone in fandom, so maybe there are people who won’t admit those things, but they aren’t in the majority.

I personally hate the way I see Scott treat people in the show. I hate the really vicious things he says and does and the chronic lack of self-awareness or growth. Even worse, the way the show excuses his behavior, be it intentional or not, has soured a lot of other parts of the show. The clearly impulsive moments that could easily be excused by him being a really stressed out teenager make me a lot more frustrated than they would, had I not known that he would never get better. That he would never stop saying things like that. I can’t even make myself enjoy the genuinely sweet moments with him and Allison or him and his mom, etc. I might hate that he left Stiles’ messages unanswered and skipped an entire day of school during a crisis to hang out with Allison, but I would’ve liked to enjoy their banter, the soft moments between them that are actually really nice. I can’t though, because so many other things about his character have ruined that for me.

It isn’t okay to attack people for disliking a character and throw around such charged words like “racist” and “abuse-apologist” or anything else. First off, this is fiction, and we all need to keep that in mind. These are not real people we’re talking about. Secondly, calling someone racist because they disagree with you (unless they are actively saying/doing something actually racist) isn’t okay and it isn’t an adult way to deal with things. Someone not liking a character doesn’t automatically make them racist. Someone happening to prefer a white character over a Character of Color doesn’t automatically make them racist. Sure, they might have passively racist motivations that even they don’t realize. But it is not up to strangers to come yell and call names without proof. There are plenty of reasons that have nothing to do with race (Not saying “i don’t see race.” I’m saying “Not About Race”) that I like Stiles over Scott, ranging from the fact that he’s physically more my type, to sharing a neurological condition with him, to just preferring Dylan O’Brien as an actor because he makes me fucking cry every time he cries on screen. What’s important is that we self analyze and check ourselves and our opinions to make sure that we aren’t falling into the racist habit of disliking Characters of Color for no real reason. But that isn’t something that other people can do for us, and it’s not their place to tell us what we think. Calling a stranger racist for saying they hate Scott’s behavior in the show doesn’t do anything for racial equality. It just makes people stop listening to the word ‘racist.’

There are times I seriously get frustrated with TW to the point of considering not watching anymore. Of closing my blog and stopping reading fanfic entirely because every single time I read a fic where Scott’s a ‘good guy’ or a ‘good alpha’ or where Derek is glad to be a beta again because he likes following Alpha Scott, I get squicked so badly I have to click out and just sit there for a second to settle. I can’t disentangle the things he does/says in the show from the fic.And I’ve written Good Friend Scott McCall fics. I have multiple wips where he’s either a decent person or he grows from being a dick to being a decent person. With my own work, I know that there’s an awareness to his behavior in the show and an active intent to rewrite/fix his behavior so that he is a nice person. With other people’s works, I don’t have a guarantee (unless it’s mentioned in tags or author’s notes, and I don’t expect people to have to explain themselves that way), and it personally makes me uncomfortable to read something when I don’t know if the writer actually sees Scott that way. It’s a personal preference, and one that I stick to pretty strictly.

Scott brings me no joy, and with him as the main character, I’ve come perilously close to cutting myself off from the most welcoming, loving fandom I’ve ever been a part of (except the Merlin fandom, but I don’t blame anyone who can’t compete with them. They’re fucking magical.). But I’m still here. I still love, if not the reality of the show, then all the potential I see in it when I watch. I love watching Derek and Stiles interact with each other and with the other side characters. I love seeing the glimpses of Boyd that we get, the tiny scenes of Erica, the snarky moments with Isaac. I even like Kira, though I haven’t seen a whole lot of the show where she’s in it/genuinely can’t remember it (I can’t even remember how far I’ve seen total, but I don’t think it was past S4, and I haven’t seen past S2 in months and months) and she spends most of her scenes with Scott, which just....kind of ruins the scenes for me.

That’s the glory of fandom though, of media in general. I don’t have to like Scott. I can love Derek and Stiles instead and I can choose not to read fics where Scott is a major player or an Alpha at all. I can read fics where Kira’s part of the pack without Scott ever getting involved, and see her interact with everyone else. Or fics where Boyd never dies and watch him bake or read or play lacrosse with the pack. I can curate my own experience, whether that means blocking tags or users or filtering fics, or just straight up skipping certain scenes/episodes of the show itself. I cope with my frustrations by coming on this blog and ranting about it. Yeah, this is a public space, but it’s also a space people choose to view. If they don’t like my opinions, they can block me or unfollow me or all of the above. They don’t have to read it, just like I don’t have to read any of their pro-scott stuff. I also read fic that does explore how Scott’s behavior is problematic and cruel sometimes. Fic that either erases him or turns him into the villain, I find fun and interesting and the relationship between him and Stiles cracking into pieces is something I find extremely cathartic, so I read it pretty much every chance I get (though, i’m so picky about fics I read, you’ve no idea). I also write fic. I write the most mushy, self-indulgent sterek fic and Stiles-centric fic and and Scott bashing fic that I can possibly write. It’s a joy and a therapy all its own. Fuck, I’m rewriting the entirety of canon for fuck’s sake and I’ve made so many changes that at this point I honestly have issues remembering what happens in the show, bc I rewrote the damn thing.

At the same time, Scott fans are gonna write their power fantasies. They’re gonna write anti-Stiles stuff and anti-Derek stuff, and whatever else tickles their fancy. They’re gonna make their own rant posts and gifsets. And to be quite honest, I don’t give a single flying fuck. I already have those tags filtered out on Ao3. I don’t follow any pro-scott tumblrs. That shit doesn’t show up for me most of the time, unless it’s not tagged properly, and even then I just click out, take a second, and move on.

No one is required to like or dislike specific characters, and it’s unfair of anyone to tell us otherwise. Fandom is built on choice. The choice to disagree with canon, or to re-envision it altogether, or to love it entirely. No one can take that away from you. So long as you aren’t hurting anybody, just keep doing you, friend. I’m here for you to vent to when it gets to be too much.

<3

#personal #go for it #anti-scott mccall #meta ramblings #Anonymous #rant #much love #I didn't mean to sound so preachy #oops

[jamielea81]

Conversations

Chapter 6

Description: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Cursing, drinking, maybe a little heartache.

Word Count: 7,750

A/N: Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. Italics are internal thoughts. This is strictly for fun. I know nothing about the lives of these two individuals, so this is purely fiction.

Catch up with chapter 5

Scott called about an hour later. The two of you apologizing to each other which neither of you really needed to do.

“Look, I’m sorry about Chris taking my phone. I should have called you when I got home rather than calling you with Chris there,” Scott said.

He sounded down which you hated. None of this mess was Scott’s fault.

“You honestly have nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry that you were even caught in the middle of whatever that was,” you replied and took a deep breath. “I don’t want to fight with Chris. But I don’t think it’s fair that he gets to pick and choose when he wants to be a part of my life. I mean, it’s been about a month of us barely speaking.”

“Completely agree with you there,” Scott said.

“I get it though, he’s with Courtney now. And for as much as he and I were talking before New Year, I can see how that wouldn’t necessarily be something you could carry on doing when in a relationship,” you said.

“Plus, my brother is a flirt.”

“That he is,” you sighed.

“On to more serious topics. So how slutty did you decide to go?” Scott asked.

“You’re impossible,” you replied.

Jana agreed that neither dress would be considered as Scott put it, slutty. One just showed a tiny bit of cleavage and the other showed just a tad more. You decided that the deep purple flattered more, even if it did show a bit of cleavage.

Ethan arrived promptly at six with a bouquet of roses in hand. The varying shades of pink matched the color of his cheeks, which frankly was adorable.

The Capital Grille was a beautiful restaurant with old world charm. Mahogany stained wainscoting and rich red paint covered the walls. Crisp white linens with intimate lamp lighting adorn each of the tables. It’s far nicer restaurant than the last few dates you have been on. You like Chilis as much as the next person, but Ethan was definitely trying to impress and you appreciated the effort.

“I hear congrats are in order,” you said, pleasant smile on your face.

He ducks his face for a second but then offers a strong grin. “Thank you. Thank you. I take it Jana told you the news?” he asked. You nodded, taking a sip of your champagne cocktail, enjoying the flavor of the peach vodka. “I worked hard and it paid off.”

Lifting your glass, you angled it toward him. “Cheers to making partner,” you offered.

He clinked his glass of bourbon against yours, offering you a gentle smile and a muttered thank you.

Dinner was delicious and the ride home not as awkward as you assumed it would be. While you had known Ethan for over a year, each interaction had only been minutes and it was generally him offering you dazzling smiles. This Ethan was sweet and eager to know about you. The cockiness that he generally pushed out was more subdued and a part of you could see this moving on two a second and a third date.

Ethan walked you to your door and you were almost tempted to invite him in, but you did want to push this into a one and done date. Leaning in, you offered him a hug which he fully embraced. The woodsy scent of his cologne enveloped you as your face rested in the crock of his neck. After you hugged a bit too long, your pulled back with flushed cheeks, only to be met with his soft pillowy lips cooling the heat.

You went to bed that night with a smile on your face. Jana and Scott could hear about your evening later.

Ethan sent you a text around lunch the next day. Just a simple check in that kept that smile going.

Ethan: Hi 😊 Hope your day is off to a great start.

On Valentine’s Day, Ethan didn’t send anything or ask to take you out. It was much too early for something like that in your opinion, but he did send you a good morning text and another that afternoon.

Ethan: I know this is short notice, but can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?

Y/N: That sounds great. Do you want to meet somewhere or are you picking me up?

Ethan: I’d like to surprise you. Pick you up at nine?

Y/N: Great! I’ll see you tomorrow.

Ethan: Have a wonderful day beautiful.

 Brunch was at Disney’s Contemporary Resort. The California Grill not only offered dinner with a spectacular view, but it also offered an upscale brunch on the weekends. On your first date, you told Ethan about your love for the mouse. Even though he was a native Floridian, he confessed he’d only gone to the parks a couple of times as an adult.

“We should go sometime,” you said, pointing at the castle that could be seen from your table.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“I mean, only if you want to. It would be a fun date,” you said shyly.

“You’re going to let me take you on more dates?”

What a flirt.

“Or I could take you. Ever think of that?” you sassed.

“Alright. Yeah, you take me out. As long as you buy me a churro,” Ethan said.

“I’ll even throw in popcorn!”

Ethan stuck out his hand for you to shake. You turned your head to the side and gave him a lopsided grin before extending your own.

“Deal,” he said.

The date ended in a sweet kiss that felt right.

It was a week before Chris makes the first move and reaches out to you. Via text message of course. You’re in the middle writing an article about your brunch with Ethan a couple of days ago. The brunch is not a new offering at the hotel, but it’s the first time you’ve dined there and your boss agreed it could be a nice article for the paper’s online edition. Since you thought an article was a strong possibility, your date humored you as you took several photos of your and Ethan’s entrees, the buffet offerings as well as the Bloody Mary bar with your phone’s camera. You’re happy you did. It’s always nice to be able to use your own pictures to add a personal touch to the article rather than using images Disney supplies.

Chris: “Please forgive me – I know not what I do”

That asshole.

Using your love of soft rock against you was a cheap move. He knew about your obsession with Bryan Adams. It wasn’t something you shouted from rooftops, but you also didn’t hide it which is why you confessed one of your more recent regrets was missing him in concert at Red Rocks. A guy you were seeing at the time suggested the trip to Colorado but you didn’t feel the two of you were at the “vacation together” stage.

Chris: Can I call you? I really want to talk to you.

You slapped your phone face down on your desk.

Nope. Not right now. Work first. Chris drama later. Much later.

A second later you grabbed your phone off the desk and saw that a new message had come in.

Ethan: Hi Beautiful. Can I see you tomorrow night?

Smiling to yourself, you typed out a quick reply.

Y/N: Hello Mister charmer. Yes, I’m free tomorrow night.

Hitting send on the message, you placed the phone in the desk drawer. Out of sight, out of mind.

 With the dinner dishes currently drying in the rack, you walked outside to your lanai, sitting down on the cushioned loveseat. Tucking one leg under the other, you got comfy. Despite it being the middle of February, the temperatures were still comfortable in the high sixties at night. You dug your phone out of your pocket and passed it back and forth between your hands. The text from Chris had burned a hole in your brain all afternoon, despite your best effort to forget it. Taking a deep breath, you counted to three before hitting the phone icon on Chris’ contact information. If you two were going to have a conversation, you wanted to have some control.

It rang only twice before he answered.

“Y/N? Hi.” He definitely sounded nervous which slightly put you at ease.

“H-hi, Chris. Is now a good time?” you asked.

“Yeah…Just give me a second,” he replied.

It sounded as though he was moving. You could hear voices in the background getting quieter. Then you heard a door close.

“I can call you back later, if you’re busy,” you offered.

“No. No. Just watching TV with a friend. Not a big deal,” Chris said.

Part of you wondered if the friend was Courtney. Not that it was any of your concern.

“I’m glad you called. I was a little worried when you didn’t reply to my text,” he said almost shyly.

“I was working.” You took a breath. That wasn’t the whole truth. “Too be honest, I wasn’t sure I wanted to. This has been weird for me,” you said.

“Been weird for me too,” he interrupted. “You’re right. We haven’t been talking, so I shouldn’t have expected you to have told me you had a date. I’m sorry.”

You’re not sure what you expected from the conversation. Chris didn’t really owe you anything. If you guys weren’t as close as you once were, then that’s just the way it is. But you couldn’t help yourself.

“Why haven’t we been talking? I mean…I feel like I’ve put effort into it. Into our friendship. You know what? Never mind. I appreciate you saying sorry. I’ll let you go,” you said.

“What? No. Please. Tell me what you were going to say. Please,” Chris pleaded.

You let out a slow breath and licked your lips. “You really pulled away in January,” you started. “And maybe the last couple of weeks I’ve stopped trying as much, but I started to feel like I was the only one trying. This…this thing between us shouldn’t have to feel like work.”

He slightly groaned. “I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy and I know that’s not fair to you. Sweetheart, I don’t want to lose you. Can we please try again?”

There he goes again making you weak with that nickname. You truly missed talking to Chris and you really hoped the two of you could get back to the way you were. As long as he tried.

“Okay. But only because you said please.”

He chuckled at your response. “Good. Ma did teach me manors, I’ll have you know,” he said.

“Then how do you explain Scott?” you asked.

 You’d like to say that your friendship with Chris went back to daily phone calls and constant text messaging, but it didn’t. It was better, but it wasn’t what it once was. You chalked it up to him being with Courtney and you being with Ethan. The two of you texted each other once a day, but it was mainly memes and the occasional, “how’s your day?” Neither of you brought up your partners. But that was probably for the best. Besides, that just seemed…awkward.

That Magic Kingdom date you wanted to take Ethan hadn’t happened yet. The two of you had been seeing each other for just over a month. Two weeks in, he asked if you were exclusive and you said yes. It might have seemed fast to some, but you were seeing each other every other night. He texted you daily with sweet words and charmed you with multiple phone calls. A fresh bundle of various types of flowers in gorgeous hues of red, pink, yellow and creams were given to you weekly. Ethan was great and you were happy. Were you in love? No. But that’s something that came in time.

While you hadn’t gone on a true double date with Jana and Brooks, you had dined with the two of them at dinners with the other partners. Other nights were spent schmoozing Ethan’s clients. It had become a regular thing the last two weeks. You drew the line at three nights a week. Some nights you just wanted time with your boyfriend. And some nights you just wanted time for yourself. On the nights he was out without you, he’d come over when he was finished to spend the night at your place. Often dragging you to bed way earlier than you were used to. Scott did not appreciate your missed late-night phone calls, but you always made sure to touch base with him at some point during the day. You did not want to be accused of being a friend who forgot about everyone else once in a relationship.

“You’re lucky I love you. Taking your calls during the middle of the day like you’re my mother. Am I going to meet this boyfriend of yours?” he asked.

“Am I going to meet yours?” you countered.

“Touché…So, Chris and Courtney broke up,” he said casually like he was discussing the weather.

“Oh.” You’re so caught off guard, you’re not sure how to respond. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, they do this. He says this is it this time. They just don’t work together,” he replied.

This is none of my business.

You reply with a hum. Since Chris and you don’t discuss your relationships as some sort of unwritten rule, it doesn’t feel right to discuss his breakup.

Scott seems to get the hint.

“What are you guys doing tonight?” he asked.

“Just watching a movie at his place. Nothing too exciting,” you replied.

Ethan knew about Scott, but he didn’t know Scott was an actor or the brother of Captain America. You didn’t hide it, but Ethan just wasn’t invested enough in knowing your friends. He was busy and you understood that.  

 Jana had taken a late lunch and met you at a strip mall near her office for a quick lunch and some shopping. With all the dinner dates, you needed to add a couple of dresses to your rotation.

“Are you out five nights a week like Ethan? I just feel it’s excessive,” you asked Jana.

“Kind of.” She shrugs. “Maybe three nights. Some weeks, just once,” she said.

“Then why the fuck have I been going three nights a week the last two weeks? I have to encourage him to go without me. Sometimes I just want to watch TV,” you whine.

She lets out a choppy laugh. “Ethan’s a work-aholic. I’m pretty sure I told you that before you two even got together. He’s just trying to prove himself to his new clients and the other partners.”

You had a pile of dresses in your hands and it was getting to the point where you were pretty sure your arm was going numb.

“Come please,” you beckoned Jana with a head nod toward the changing rooms. “I need you to help me decide.”

She followed you, taking a seat just outside your changing room door. Before you even put on the first dress, Ethan was calling you on your phone.

“Is it Ethan?” Jana asked.

“Yep. Hang on,” you told her through the changing room door.

“Hey Eth.”

“Hey Beautiful. How are you? Are you at work?” he asked.

“Good and no, taking a long lunch,” you said while shimming your pants down. Expertly holding your phone between your cheek and shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Shopping for some dresses. All these dinners we go on, I’m running out of things to wear. Jana met me, we grabbed lunch before and are headed back to work soon,” you said.

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed “Where are you?” he asked.

“At that strip mall on Citrus near your office,” you replied.

You’ve managed to unbutton the twelve or so buttons on your shirt without dropping your phone. You throw your fist in the air to celebrate, almost dropping your phone in the process.

“Wait, you’re near my office and you didn’t stop by?”

You love that he always wants to see you, but he spent the night at your place last night. But then again, you’ve dated guys that thought two dates a week was a lot.

“Eth, aren’t I seeing you tonight? I just needed some girl time,” you replied.

“Alright, fine. I just miss you,” he mumbles over the phone.

Your cheeks grow hot. This big, bad, scary lawyer is mush for you.

“You’re too sweet. I’ll see you later though,” you said.

“Okay. Bye sweetie,” he said.

“Bye Ethan.”

You slip on the first dress and walk out to show Jana. She immediately shakes her head and you walk right back in.

The next three she’s iffy about, but tells you to put the last of the three in the maybe pile.

You walk out in the fourth and she gasps. “That’s way too nice for a night out with clients, but that looks so good on you.”

You turn around to get a different angle in the mirror. She’s right. The cobalt blue looks great against your skin tone. The cut making your ass look great. You nod and smile, doing a twirl to make her laugh.

Before you make it back in the changing room, she grabs your hand.

“What did Ethan have to say,” she asked.

“He was just checking in,” you say with a shrug. “Wanted to know if I was stopping by when we’re done.”

“He calls a lot, doesn’t he?” she asked hesitantly.

“Jana,” you half chuckle. “Where’s this coming from?”

She lets out a small sigh. “It just seems like you guys spend a lot of time together. Do you ever feel like it’s lot? You were texting him at lunch.”

You’re not sure what’s she getting at. Yes, Ethan checks in quite often, but it’s a new relationship and you like spending time with him. It makes you feel good that someone cares that much about you. And yeah, it’s a lot, but it will probably lessen as time goes by.

“It’s new, Jana. We’re at that stage where we can’t get enough of each other. It’s fine. It’s sweet.”

She gives you a small smile. “Okay. You’re right. I’m just being weird. I am really happy for you,” she adds.

You walk back into the changing room, suddenly feeling a little down. You change out of the dress, opting to put your dark wash jeans and pink button-down back on. You grab the maybe dress and the cobalt blue dress to pay for. There’s a tiny bit of doubt planted in your mind now and you’re not sure what to think.

 Ethan’s cut back on the amount of nights he works late in the office, instead opting to work at your place or at his. He’s even trimmed down on the client and partner dinners, only going if you have agreed to go. It’s a lot of time together and it’s really starting to take its toll. At first, you loved all the attention, but you can’t help but think back to that tiny seed of doubt that was planted a few weeks ago. Scott’s even mentioned that you’re more withdrawn, despite your best effort to call or text him often.

It’s a beautiful spring night and you’re on your lanai enjoying the extra hours of sunlight that April brings. The darkness of winter always gets you down; you can’t help but soak up the sun for as long as you can get it. You’re working on an article for Epcot’s Flower and Garden Festival for the online edition. The festival has been going on for a month and you’ve already written a preview article for the paper, but this one is more your speed. You’ve been writing more and more for the online edition. Those articles allow you to really insert yourself into the story and write about the event from your personal experience.

The sliding glass door opens and closes behind you. You feel Ethan’s hands on your shoulders as he starts to gently rub them. An hour ago, volumes from The Southern Reporter and The Law of Torts, as well as his laptop were spread out across your kitchen island.

He kisses the top of your head. “Let’s go to bed sweetheart,” he softly says into your hair.

It’s eight o’clock. And the sun hasn’t set. The urge to snap at him is strong, but you bite your tongue.

“Go ahead without me. I want to finish this tonight so it can go up tomorrow,” you replied.

You turn around slightly and give him a small smile. This has become a normal fight between the two of you the last couple of weeks. Ever since he’s cut back on his nights out. You’ve always been a bit of a night owl, going to bed at ten feels like a compromise.

“Sweetie, I’m beat. It’s been a long week. You can finish that up in the morning. Wake up with me, you sleep too late anyway.”

You sigh out loud. “Ethan, this is work. I really need to get it finished and I don’t want to wake up at six and feel like I need to rush to finish. You’re perfectly fine to go to bed without me.”

He comes around the loveseat to stand in front of you.

“Please? For me?” he begs, voice light and sweet that you almost cave.

You shake your head. You’re not even tired. He’ll be passed out in fifteen minutes and you’ll be lying awake for hours.

“Sorry Eth. I’ll see you in there later,” you said.

You offer him a smile again before turning your attention back to your laptop screen.

“It’s like you don’t want to spend time we me anymore.”

Really? This is how this night is going to go?

“That’s not fair. We see each other almost every day. Even yesterday when I was at the park late for work, I still crawled into bed at your place when I was done.”

“My point exactly, I was already in bed.”

“We’re both busy Ethan. You work a lot. I work a lot. I honestly am giving you all my free time. I haven’t seen Jana in forever and she works in the same building as you!”

The two of you have only been together for two months. It’s too much too soon and you feel like you’re going to implode.

“Excuse me for wanting to spend time together with my girlfriend,” he said abruptly.

“If you’re sleeping, we’re not really spending time together either,” you counter. “I have to get back to this.” You point at your laptop.

“You write stories about theme parks, Y/N. It’s not that serious,” he grumbles as he starts to walk back inside.

You hop up, going after him, catching the door before he closes it.

“What a shitty thing to say. This is my career. I don’t care if I am writing about the neighbor’s dog taking a shit in my yard. I’m a writer and a journalist.”

Your face is on fire and you feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

“You’re right. You’re right. You’re right,” he quickly offers. His hands going to your biceps.

“I think you should leave,” you said sternly.

“Y/N, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

“Ethan, I need space. Please just leave,” you replied.

He nods solemnly, letting go of your arms and walking back in your bedroom to grab his duffle bag.

He walks back out of the room and gives you a sad smile before making his way to your front door. “I really am sorry for what I said.”

You nod your head and follow him to the door, closing it once he’s through the threshold. There’s a pit in your stomach and you’re shaking slightly. Finding the couch, you collapse onto it and as the tears start to flow. You don’t know if your crying because your angry, hurt, or overwhelmed.

Sleep that night is restless. Ethan has been a part of your day for the last two months. It was an odd feeling to sleep without him. What he said about your job was hurtful. Did he really think so low of you? The man that praises you daily with sweet words and gentle kisses found it so easy to cut you down.

The story doesn’t get posted the next day like you had planned. You opted for a sick day, staying in bed and ignoring your phone completely. You needed a day just for you. The relationship was too much way too soon. You’d always had that independent streak and to practically be living with someone suddenly, it was a big change.

You managed to finish your story before going to sleep that night, e-mailing it off so that it could be posted in the morning. Finding your old alarm clock because you still didn’t want to face your cellphone was a struggle. It was buried inside a box of clothes for donation that you’ve been meaning to drop off for the last seven months. Setting the alarm for nine, you fell asleep easy due to the lack of sleep and the crying the night before.

 As expected, you had several missed phone calls from Ethan, a call from Jana and a couple of text messages from Scott and Chris. You didn’t talk to Jana or Brooks at all yesterday and you knew Ethan wouldn’t go to her with this, so you knew it was just a normal check in call you missed. It was hard to listen to Ethan’s calls in the morning. You were still pretty angry at him for what he said about your career. You were also angry at yourself for sticking in a relationship you weren’t entirely happy with. You really liked Ethan and cared about him, but you knew you couldn’t go back to the way things had been. The three messages were all the same. Apologizing for how the conversation went. Saying he missed me and hoped I would forgive him. You still needed more time.

Y/N: I need more time. Please understand.

A few minutes later her responded.

Ethan: Of course. Take all the time you need.

You fired off similar texts about having a migraine yesterday to Jana, Scott, and Chris. Since you weren’t sure what was going to happen with you and Ethan, you didn’t want to say anything to Jana or Scott yet.

 A few days had passed when you finally called Ethan and asked to meet at the coffee shop the two of you took to visiting on Sunday mornings. You were nervous about seeing him which was such an odd feeling. You had gone from seeing him, kissing him, sleeping with him, to not speaking for several days and your nerves were shot.

When you entered the small shop, you saw Ethan already sitting at your normal table, two cups of coffee already waiting. He spotted you as well and quickly stood up, offering you a nervous smile.

“Hi,” you greeted him.

He leaned in for a hug and you accepted it.

“Hi,” he responded, still holding you.

When the two of you let go, you took a seat, already grasping on to the mug for comfort.

“Thanks,” you said, slightly lifting the warm mug.

“Thanks for meeting me,” he replied, small smile on his lips.

“Of course. Listen. I’m sorry for how I handled our fight that night. I shouldn’t have kicked you out, instead we should have talked. Actually, I think we should have talked a lot sooner than that night,” you said.

“I’m so sorry for how I behaved,” he interrupted. “I didn’t mean what I said about your job. I over reacted and I apologize.”

“Ethan, it’s more than that,” you sighed out. “We aren’t working. I care about you, but I don’t think we fit together as a couple.”

He starts to shake his head slightly. “That’s not true. We get along so well and we feel so right.”

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s just too much for me. All this time we spend together, it’s too much too soon for me. I’ve always liked my alone time, and time with friends. I’m not used to spending every night with somebody. I’m sorry.” You pick up the mug and take a few sips. Breaking up with someone is never fun and your thankful this is only your second time. Granted, getting broken up with is no picnic either.

“But-But that doesn’t mean we need to breakup. I can give you space. Start sleeping at my place more. This doesn’t mean we can’t see each other,” he argues.

You take his hand in yours. You truly do care about Ethan, but you let yourself get wrapped up in someone else which you know isn’t healthy. Ethan pretty much planned your days and nights for the last two months and you just let him. Looking back, you wish you wouldn’t have jumped right into the relationship. Maybe things would have been different.

“I care about you, but this isn’t what I want. I’m sorry and as cliché as it sounds, I want to be your friend again,” you replied.

You’d still see Jana; she was your best friend. Neither of you would want the awkwardness that would come from your regular office visits.

He squeezes your hand and then keeps it encompassed in both of his. He takes a couple of breaths before speaking.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t work this out and I’m sorry if I pushed to hard too fast,” solemnly he replied.

You shook your head no. “That’s on me too.”

The two of you part the same way you began, with a hug.

 That night you call Jana and then Scott. Jana’s supportive of your decision but she’s also upset for you. She brings up your office visits and you explain that you don’t see a problem with them. Of course, it will be awkward to begin with, but you hope you and Ethan can get to a place where you’re able to have conversations as you are coming and going.

Scott is taken aback that you’re calling him at midnight your time, he’s even maybe a little surprised you are calling at all.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I recognize this number,” he said with such snark.

“Is this Chris Evans? Maybe I have the wrong number,” you sassed back.

“You bitch,” he said before bursting into laughter.

“Yes, it’s me calling, brat. Deal with it,” you said.

“The boyfriend let you have a free night?”

Had you still been dating Ethan, you would have only rolled your eyes at that, but now that you’re broken up, it only shows you that you really were wrapped up in each other.

You let out a small cough, then clear your throat. “Well, actually, um, we broke up.”

“You did? I’m so sorry sweetie. Are you okay?” he asked sincerely.

“Ye-yeah. It was for the best. I think I just need to pledge of celibacy. Apparently, I’m not cut out for a relationship.”

“I doubt that. That’s not what he said is it? I’ll beat him up,” Scott threatened.

“No, no. Not at all,” you chuckled. “I broke up with him. I was beginning to feel suffocated by the amount of time we spent together. And if I wanted to do my own thing, he would make me feel bad about doing so. Plus, he called my job a joke more or less.”

“Well, that’s horseshit and I hope you know that,” Scott said.

“Completely agree. Sure, maybe it’s not something I want to do forever, but I enjoy my job and I do it well. It hurt that he said that, which is what caused me to take time to myself and decide to end it. I just need some me time,” you said.

“You deserve it. But don’t get holed up in that house of yours. Call Jana and some of your work friends to go out. You need to let loose,” he said.

“Yeah. You’re right. Probably this weekend.”

But you didn’t. It was work and then home for the last five days. You did make it to the grocery store over the weekend, but that was the extent of your adventures. You hadn’t gone to Jana’s office yet, but you did meet for lunch a few days prior. It was easier to mope at home. Alone.

Scott: Please tell me you’ve left the house besides going to work.

Y/N: I went to the store on Sunday. Does that count?

Scott: Sassy, you can’t stay home and just be sad. That’s not good for you either.

Y/N: I’m fine. I was with someone almost every day for two months, being home alone is a nice change.

Scott: I’m not disagreeing there. But it’s also therapeutic to socialize with others. Maybe get drunk. Dance on a table.

Y/N: That sounds more like your speed Grumpy.

 Yes, it was nearing the end of April, but you still had those twenty or so Christmas movies to get through which is what you were working on Wednesday night when Scott called you at a surprisingly early time.

“Guess what?” he gushed.

“What?” you said with a laugh.

“I’m coming to visit you!” he sing-songed.

“What?! When?” you asked.

“Friday. So, you better call in sick or take the day off.”

“Not that I don’t want you to come, but what’s with the last-minute trip?” you asked.

“What? I can’t just want to visit?” he insisted.

“Scott…”

“When one of my bestie’s is down, I am there for them. You’re one of my bestie’s and you need me. I’ve already booked the flight, so you can’t say no.” he chided.

“Hon, I appreciate it, but I promise you I am fine. Of course, I’d love to see you though.”

“Good. Then it’s settled,” he said.

“Are you renting a car or am I picking you up?”

“You are stuck with me all weekend, so you are picking me up. I’ll text you my flight info,” Scott said.

“Goodnight trouble,” you replied.

“Night Sassy.”

Now you needed to clean your house. Sure, it was clean, but overnight guest clean? Not even close.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was Thursday night and Scott was packing his bag last minute for his trip to Orlando in the morning. Not entirely sure what their plans will be, even though he’s the one that planned the trip, he packs a little bit of everything. A suit for going out, shorts, tees, sandals, boots.

“Sassy has a pool, right?” he said to himself. “I’m sure she does.”

With swim trunks securely packed in his rolling bag, he zips it up, before dropping it to the floor.

His phone starts to ring and he sees that it’s Chris, suddenly remembering he was supposed to call him to cancel.

“Hey,” Scott answered.

“Hey. What time are you coming by?” Chris asked.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I forgot to call you. I’m flying out early tomorrow so, I’m not coming by.”

“What? Where are you going?” Chris asked.

“To visit Y/N,” Scott said.

“Why are you visiting Y/N?” Chris asked, surprise evident in his voice.

“Because I want to see her. Plus, she needs me.” Scott answered.

“Needs you? What’s going on with Sassy?” Chris asked, growing tired of this game Scott was playing.

“Why? God, do you not talk to Y/N, like ever? She and Ethan broke up.” Scott exclaimed.

“We talk,” Chris scoffed. “Just not about her boyfriend. When did they break up? Is she okay?”

“Like a week or so ago. Maybe call your friend once in a while,” Scott spit out.

“Yeah, you’re right. You’re right.” Chris sighed out.

When the call ended, Chris wiped a hand down his face, leaning back into the couch cushion. Scott was right. He hadn’t been calling Y/N like he should. When they had that long call a couple of months back, he told her he didn’t want to lose her friendship and while they still talked, they were barely friends at this point. If he was being honest with himself, he was a little jealous that Scott was visiting her. He needed to make a change.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After picking up a very excited Scott from the airport, the two of you made a stop at the liquor store per Scott’s request, because, per Scott, “I don’t trust your wine selection.”

Sigh.

After that regretful stop which included picking up a bottle of raspberry flavored vodka, the two of you stopped at a grocery store for breakfast items, frozen pizza, and chips and salsa. The essentials of course.

After a quick tour of your house including a stop in the guest room so that Scott could set his bag down, he immediately ordered you to take a shower.

“I love you like a sister, but you’re looking rough my dear,” he said.

You had showered that morning, but didn’t put any effort into your hair, makeup, or outfit choice.

“Scott, I really don’t want to go out. I rather just hang out with you. Please?” you pleaded.

“We don’t have to go out, but we are getting pretty tonight. Go shower and I’m going to lay out what you are wearing on your bed,” he said.

You stuck out your lower lip to pout, but complied. Scott was here. In your house! Really, you’d go out if he asked. You started toward your bathroom, Scott promptly slapping your ass as you went.

“Brat!” you said, turning around sticking out your tongue.

After a quick shower, you blow-dried your hair, applied some light makeup before walking your towel clad body to your bedroom. Scott laid out the cobalt blue dress you bought with Jana about a month ago but never had the chance to wear. You smiled to yourself, quickly changing into the dress, opting to go barefoot since you weren’t actually leaving.

Walking back into your living room, you were met with a wolf whistle from Scott. He was dressed in a blue suit, the shirt underneath in a slightly lighter color. The two of you almost matching which made you grin.

“Looking pretty good yourself Evans,” you replied.

“Thank you.” He bowed to you. “Thank you,” he said.

“What are we having for dinner?” you asked.

“Let’s start with the chips and salsa. And the vodka. We’ll have the wine tomorrow,” he replied.

It was going to be a long night.

 The two of you never did eat anything else. The bag of chips was entirely gone as well as a lot of the raspberry vodka. Scott commandeered your Bluetooth speakers at one point, starting a playlist he had created. The two of you dancing in your fancy clothes and barefoot to Liam Payne’s Strip That Down.

You know I love it when the music's loud But c'mon, strip that down for me, baby Now there's a lot of people in the crowd But only you can dance with me So put your hands on my body And swing that round for me, baby (swing)

“Are you having fun?” Scott yells over the music.

Your body continues to dance to the beat. You offer him a thumbs up, because you’re singing along.

“Oh, strip that down, girl. Love when hit the ground, girl. Oh, strip that down, girl. Love, when you hit ground.”

The song changes to Demi Lovato Confident. Scott starts to sing along and you’re in hysterics.

“I used to hold my freak back. Now I'm letting go. I make my own choice. Bitch, I run this show So leave the lights on. No, you can't make me behave.” Scott sings out.

Scott grabs you so that your back is against his chest. He takes his phone and starts recording the two of you swaying and singing along.

What's wrong with being, what's wrong with being What's wrong with being confident? What's wrong with being, what's wrong with being What's wrong with being confident?

Scott apparently sends the video clip to Chris because a short time later, Chris is facetiming Scott on his phone.

“Chris!” Scott shouts when he sees his brother’s face on the screen.

“Where are you two?” Chris asks.

You kind of duck out of the way of Scott’s camera. Throughout all your phone calls with Chris going back to October, you’ve never once facetimed him before. Even with the amount of raspberry flavored vodka in your blood, it still made you nervous to talk to him face to face.

“We’re at Sassy’s house!” Scott replied.

Chris chuckled at Scott’s response. “I could have sworn you two were at a club. You’re dressed to go out. Sassy, you were lookin’ sexy in that video Scott sent,” Chris said loud enough for you to hear.

You know your cheeks are flushed, from the dancing, drinking, and now, Chris’ comment.

“This is just how we do big brother,” Scott said. “Sassy’s being shy from the camera.”

Scott flips around his phone so that you can see Chris and he can see you. You wave awkwardly at him.

“Hey sweetheart. Good to see you again,” Chris said.

He looks good, but, when doesn’t he? He’s got on a simple gray t-shirt and jeans, but his hair has grown out a bit and his beard is full.

“You-you too,” you said with a smile.

Scott turns the camera back to him. “Don’t give me that pout. Call Y/N on your own time.”

“I was just calling to see how you to were getting along,” Chris offers.

“Smashingly of course. But if you will excuse us, we have a dance party to get back to.”

Scott disconnects the call before you hear Chris respond back. You give him a smile and resume Demi’s song.

 You wake up to another hangover. In your defense, Christmas was months ago. You did pretty well with the whole ‘I’m never drinking again’ thing. Despite Scott being shown where his room is this weekend, he’s asleep next to you. You had managed to change into a t-shirt, but Scott had only managed to take his jacket off. Deciding to let him sleep since he is a guest, you make your way to the bathroom, slipping on a pair of sweats first, and then to the kitchen.

You make pancakes and sausage patties because it’s quick and easy and you really need something in your stomach as soon as possible. It’s already after eleven when breakfast is ready.

Walking back into your bedroom, you crawl back into the bed, running your hand through Scott’s hair to gently wake him. He starts to stir and puts on a sleepy smile.

“Breakfast is ready,” you said softly, withdrawing your hand.

“Well, don’t stop,” he said, eyes still closed.

You let out a giggle and resume rubbing his scalp. “It’s going to get cold.”

When that does nothing to get him moving, you speak again. “I made pancakes.”

“Finnnnee. I’m awake.”

 You both spend a lazy day in the pool. Scott lounging on a floaty shaped like a piece of pizza and you on a donut. A frozen pizza is baked around three in the afternoon because your stomach starts to growl much to Scott’s delight.

Jana calls to see how Scott’s visit is going, but you think she’s more calling to pry. When Scott hears his own name, he asks who you are talking to. You tell him it’s Jana and he grabs the phone from your hand. You’re only hearing one side of the conversation but he’s asking her and Brooks to dinner and apparently, they agreed because he tells them we’ll meet them at seven.

Dinner is at a bistro near your house that you’ve eaten at several times before. You always get a cup of French onion soup no matter the time of year.

“Is this one driving you to book an early flight tomorrow?” Brooks teases.

“She won’t let me leave! I don’t know how you worked with her for so long.” Scott replied.

You and Jana shake your heads at their teasing.

“The paper offers great benefits. That’s really the only reason.” Brooks said while shrugging his shoulders.

“You two love me. Don’t give me this shit.”

The table erupts in laughter and you find yourself smiling for a second night in a row.

 Scott and you opt for more pool time on Sunday. His flight isn’t until six that night, so neither of you are in a hurry.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I’m really glad you came out. This was a lot of fun,” you replied.

“It really was. I’ll bring Zach next time.”

“That’d be great,” you said.

“How are you feeling since the breakup?” Scott asked.

“Mostly good. Ethan was a really good guy, but we moved too quickly. He moved too quickly, but I just went along with it. I’m sad it didn’t work out, but I learned what I don’t like.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” he asked.

“Losing myself. While I was still very much me, I caved a lot. Mostly did what he wanted to do. I love being in a relationship and spending time with someone I care about, but I’m also important. My work is important to me. My friends are important to me. I lost a bit of that when I was Ethan.”

Scott offers you a smile. “You’re still very much Sassy to me.”

“Always,” you replied.

 With Scott safely in the air, headed back to L.A., you resume your Christmas in April marathon. You’re phone rings with Chris’ name on the screen. He hasn’t called you in months, so you’re a bit surprised. You hit pause on your movie and hit the call accept button.

“Hi, Chris.”

“Hey sweetheart,” he said.

“Scott’s already on his way home if you are looking for him.”

“Yeah, I know. He called me from the airport. I just wanted to call and talk to you, if that’s alright.” He said.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s completely alright. Dork,” you chuckle out.

“Oh, I’m the dork? I’m not quite sure about that.”

And just like that, the two of you started to build up your friendship like it was the first time around.

Tag list: @tanelle83​ @pinknerdpanda​ @allaboutthebooz​ @estillion14​@patzammit​ @heartislubbingdubbing​ @collinsstanharbour​ @twittytelly​ @thefandomzoneisdangerous​ @linki-locks11​ @mywinterwolf​ @ab-baybay​ @rda1989​ @impalaimages​ @jesseswartzwelder​ @rainbowkisses31​ @xostephanie​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk​ @xxloki81xx​@panicfob​ @mustangshelby04​ @bellaireland1981​ @carolina-thiell​ @straightforwardly​ @torntaltos​ @denise1605​ @mcuclintasha​ @southerngracela​ @iam-cj​ @trynnabemultifandom​ @chrisevansforever​ @kelbabyblue​ @broadwayandnetflix​ @kyjey​ @thevelvetseries​ @i-just-feel-like​ @daddieslittlefangirl​ @hista-girl​ @stankface​ @denisemarieangelina​ @im-not-an-armrest-im-short​ @whymalu​ @the-doctors-fallen-angel​ @mariswritingforfun​ @tessabb7​ @chrisevansfanfic​ @lakamaa12​ @thinkxlovexloud​@deidrashouseofpain  @nea90sweetie​ @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @dangerouslovefanfic​ @ripvandrinkle​ @bitterstar88​ @andymi3ntus​ @zestygingergirl​ @xstudiousslytherinx​ @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall​ @cocomel0613​ @onceuponathreetwoone​ @supraveng​ @michelehansel​ @fanfictionaffair​ @genesgoingtohamslam​@barnesthot @chrisevansforever​ @agirlcanstilldream @what-is-your-plan-today​

Chapter 7

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans reader insert #scott evans #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fan fic #chris evans imagine #chris evans au #conversations

[diversetolkien]

Hey yal! Below is a submissions I received regarding my Eol and Maeglin post. My responses are indented with the grey line! OPs are not!

——————————————————————————————————

First of all, it is absolutely necessary to draw attention to the things you’re drawing attention to. Whether you are “right” or “wrong,” or whether anyone is “right” or “wrong” is beside the point of the argument in my opinion: these issues simply need to be addressed! We need discussion and different points of view and they all need to be considered and we need them now more than ever. There are clear examples that are sketchy to say the very least: good guys are fair-skinned but the evil men ((, Haradrim) are not; orcs, clearly bad guys, are “swarthy” and “slant-eyed”. However, I do believe your point about Eöl and Maeglin on June 10 are off the mark. I believe you get too carried away by the title “dark” and hang your entire argument up on that. As far as I know, there is no textual evidence that Eöl was a dark-skinned elf at all.

Hello there! Thank you for the message. I do want to emphasize that I’ve been incredibly reluctant to answer this. As of resharing my meta I received a terribly racist message from a user on the website, and will tread cautiously with addressing any messages regarding Eol and Maeglin due to that. I completely agree that we do need discussion, and I’m open for it. This is the only way we can progress. But I won’t tolerate blatant racism.

I’m not accusing you of doing such, but for future references I want to make this clear.

While you believe I may get carried away on the aspect of dark or ‘swarth’, I think it may be important to explain what racial coding is, and also to remind you of Tolkien’s history with coding and with people of color. I talked about coding on my twitter, but in short coding is ascribing real world traits to fictional characters.

This includes attributing the historical and social context to the text to prove a point.

We’ve discussed how Tolkien has borrowed from cultures aside from his own, and with The Silmarillion published in the late 70’s, it’s not impossible to see how influence from America and racial influence there have played a role in his writings.

I also wouldn’t call it being ‘carried away’, when, as we both agree, Tolkien has a history of racism directed at people of color.

And at the same time, I think it’s important to note that while you dismiss the possibility of Tolkien considering Eol dark despite the use of swarth, you ascribe swarth to the orcs and their skin tone in the same breath. I don’t see why it’s impossible for the two to mean the same thing. Not when we do have a racist author who grew up in a very racist society already using dark skin to describe evil characers. Not when Eol’s narrative of the brute mirrors that of the orcs (ie: Celebrian and the Orcs).

And regardless if it is explicit or not, Eol is still coded. Again, we know this because we have canon stories that mirror his completely. This being, again, Celebrian and the Orcs.

We can also accept that Tolkien’s constant use of “dark” to describe evil things, and “light” to describe good things comes from a place of racism. So why is there such push back when we analyze that further?

Tolkien was known to ponder about problems, such as missing words in the Germanic languages. The term asterisk-word is coined by August Schleicher for exactly this purpose: words that should have existed in a (dead) language but aren’t recorded and needed therefore to be reconstructed. For example, Tolkien doesn’t have a recollection of how he came upon the word “hobbit” but to make it fit his Legendarium he made the asterisk-word *holbytlan, supposedly an old English word meaning “hole-builders” because hobbit language was akin to Old English. This word doesn’t exist in old English but could (and maybe should) have. Tolkien also wrote a long argument about a particular difficult passage in the Beowulf-poem which you can read in “Finn and Hengest.” Now normally I would never try to talk straight what’s curved, but Tolkien is a bit of a different case as I hope the above examples show.

The case of Eöl is a trick(s)y problem that stems from the “Prose Edda” written by Snorri Sturluson, an Icelandic poet who lived in the 12th century. This is thoroughly explained by Tom Shippey in his essay “Light-elves, Dark-elves, and Others: Tolkien Elvish Problem”. A quick summary is (but one really ought to read Shippey’s essay to understand it) that there are light-elves, dark-elves, dwarves and black-elves in the “Prose Edda.” Germanic scholars such as Nikolas Grundtvig and Jacob Grimm bent themselves in all kinds of shapes to explain the “error” that Snorri made. Are the black-elves the same as the dark-elves? Are both black-elves and dark-elves dwarves? What about twilight-elves? Tolkien pulls all the different strands of this one problem together and called it Eöl the Dark Elf. He could never have done this in an academic work if he wanted to be taken seriously, so his fiction seemed a great outlet to deal with this. Maybe it was all a private amusement because Tolkien never mentioned it as far as I know.

I personally can’t recall Eöl ever being called dark-skinned. He is considered “black” due to the armour he’s wearing made out of the metal galvorn that he made himself after coming into contact with dwarves (which also ties in masterfully with the whole elf-problem, again, see Shippey’s essay), but it’s not skin colour. Eöl was called the Dark Elf because he lived in a place where the sun never came. It was called Nan Almoth, the valley of the star pool, and he loved the stars, and loved to live in the twilight. The twilight-part is important in the above discussion as well.

I understand you are trying to be informative but please don’t be patronizing. Please do not explain to me what I already know. In the future, I will not be answering messages like this again. This is incredibly rude. You are assuming I don’t know about what I made a meta about, and that’s an insult to what I’ve written.

Please read my blog fully before you attempt to whitesplain something I already know. I understand debate, but there is a clear different between wanting to have a healthy discourse, and flat out patronizing me and treating me like a child.

Back the the point; The same, again, can be applied to the orcs. The orcs wear dark armor, were tortured by a creature who is often described as dark, reside in dark areas—but we know clearly that they are coded off of people given the description of them being swarthy.

The same attribute that’s given to Eol. And again, we have a clear historical context and in-canon context. And we know that Tolkien borrows from American history, and that England itself had a huge role to play in that history.

Finally, the citation from the Book of Lost Tales (BLT) where Maeglin is called swart is problematic to me. I think it’s as much proof against your point as it is in favour of it. Many, many things have changed since the BLT was written and turned into The Silmarillion (I mean Sauron was a giant cat at first!). The BLT version of Maeglin being “swart” is a discarded  version and in The Silmarillion, a way later revision, “his skin was white”. I think it would be wrong to conclude Tolkien discarded the swart skin of Maeglin as he realised it was racist. I think he simply hadn’t figured out the elf problem of the Edda when he wrote the BLT.

I think this is all negated by the fact that Tolkien has canonical characters of color, and that they have been coded. I’m having an incredibly hard time wrapping my head around why that’s accepted, yet when it comes to Eol and Maeglin it isn’t. We can accept that Tolkien has a history of racism with people of color, based on evidence far less than what I’ve provided. Maeglin’s light skin can be attributed to the fact that his mother was light. It’s possible to have a dark parent and be born light.  

And regardless if it was changed or not, it’s incredibly important to discuss it due to the fact that it was racist, and deserves to be brought to light.

I want to stress, again, that I think your work and thoughts are important, no matter if I or anyone else agrees or disagrees. It is of the utmost importance to address issues of racism, genderism and any other kinds of ism that is out there. Discussion is what matters!

[sorneth]

Interview: Sorneth Caduceus

► Name ➔ He grinned. “Ser Sorneth Caduceus, Bard of renown, and teller of stories. ...Also a knight of Ishgard now apparently” he offered with a side ward slant of his eyes “bit of a funny tale that one.” ► Are you single ➔ He chuckled warmly, as a smile formed that not only curved along his lips but brought a fond narrowing of his eyes. “Not in the slightest. I’m the husband of Maxia Caduceus, and happily so. While we do have our problems sometimes, that’s simply the way of it. A relationship is like a garden, you tend it together, and you enjoy both the good times, and weather the bad side by side.” ► Are you happy ➔ He offered a nod. “Most of the time. I have many, many things around me that bring a smile to my face, and a warmth to my heart. While occasionally my mind does get the better of me, I’m fortunate that I can often find pleasant company to help ease me back into my usual, jovial self.” ► Are you angry? ➔ The bard falls silent for a moment, a frown pulling across his lips as the fingers of a gloved hand curl inwards towards his palm briefly. “Overall?” his tone flows gently upon smooth silver “No, I’m content and at peace. It’s merely specific subjects that are likely to light a fire in my blood. But they rarely if ever surface in normal conversation.” ► Are your parents still married ➔ This brought the man’s head to tilt, before giving a brief huff of a chuckle. “I don’t even know my parents, but I imagine they still are. Divorce is not an option where I come from, I’m... pretty sure the marriages are pre-arranged as well. Aids in the selective breeding.”

(Cut for Length)

EIGHT FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ The bard’s eyes closed gently... “A place far more ancient then you can fathom. My people have been around since the star was torn into fourteen pieces. Isolated and kept safe in a homeland so deep beneath the surface of our world, that not even the veins of corrupted aether from the fragments of Dalamund’s fall could reach or affect it. I -am- from the Shroud, just way more vertically down then most forest-born.” ► Hair Color ➔ He grinned, as a hand lifted to pinch one of his bangs within his fingertips. “Naturally this silver, even the white highlights mixed in.” ► Eye Color ➔ His head tilted, offering a better view of his eyes as the moon-white iris’ seemed to glow against the dark grey backdrop. “Moon white, I was told this is the result of those born beneath a Full Moon, on the Winter Solstice. The night influenced me, and thus my eyes reflect my connection to the sunless sea. It’s a rare trait among my people, near to the point of prophecy.” He shrugged “If there is one about me, I don’t know it. I simply am who I am.” ► Birthday ➔ He frowned gently.. “Aside from having been born on the Winter Solstice? Well, that’s if the stories of my eyes are true. Honestly I... actually have no idea. I use the solstice to track my years, when it passes, I consider myself a year older.” ► Mood ➔ He grinned again, this time with one that even narrowed his eyes with mirth. “Playful, flirtatious, good humored, affectionate, creative, modest, honest, loyal, kind, generous. Depends on the day, depends on the time, depends on the company. But generally I’m told that I can be quite a darling, and that I’m pleasant to be around, and easy to get along with.” His smile softened to one of nearly being bashful as he lowered his head and scratched at his cheek. “I just try and give people a reason to smile, there’s enough in the world to feel horrible about. Bard’s are meant to lift people up, after all.” ►Gender ➔ He offered a rich, deep laugh as his arms flowed out from his sides with upturned palms. “Male, obviously. Though... if you want to open up my pants just to make sure, your welcome to...” he offered a wink. “I’m like a museum, can look as much as you want - just don’t touch anything.” ► Summer or winter ➔ “Winter” he stated without a breath of hesitation “I hate the heat, and enjoy the snow, cold, and peacefulness that comes with the season. While game can be a bit more difficult to hunt, I still prefer it over the thick of summer any day.”  ► Morning or afternoon ➔ His smile sweetened. “Morning, very early morning just after midnight. That’s usually when my day usually begins, and I can still drink in the starlit skies as I go about my training routines. It’s quiet, tranquil, few people bother me, and I can lose myself to the routines as if they were meditation.” He sighed out blissfully... “It also lets me finish, come back to the house, and start on breakfast right as my beloved starts rolling themselves out of bed.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ His smile grew fond, eyes closing to a gentle, reflective half lid as a soft sigh of contentment parted his lips. “I am fully, and without a doubt in my heart.” The words flowed with a steeled resolve, and an embers warmth as his hand lifted to run the pad of his thumb along the wedding band on his finger. “He is my guiding stars, my strength, my resolve, my present and future. My beloved has claimed me utterly, mind, heart, and soul. Even when were apart, my thoughts drift to him effortlessly, my muse behind everything that I do.” ► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ The bard’s head tilted, only to tilt again in the other direction before his shoulder’s bobbed in a gentle shrug. “Yes and No. I believe that for some, those who have lived before, there is the chance for a re-kindled connection upon first crossing paths with the one who loved you before. A recognition of their soul, just as they recognize yours in kind. But that.. is merely remembrance.” He lifted a hand to tap two fingers over his heart. “Love, is something you fall into all over again - even with such a destined lover. You grow to know them as they are in this life, finding a fondness for them all over from the beginning. A connection is at first sight, love... grows after.” ► Who ended your last relationship ➔ The frown that flowed over the man’s lips was near a sneered grimace. “...The Ishgardians, their ‘inquisitors’ in fact. They arrested my last lover for writing ‘unhalonic’ texts and distributing his fiction to the general public.” He sighed out softly... “They held him for a long time, over a year, and by the time he was released... I had already left Ishgard and had resumed my way of life long before. If they had not, I likely would have stayed, likely continued to grow what we had between us. ...We were close.” ► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ The bard’s head was swift to shake. “No. Never. It’s why I’m always as clear in my communication as I am, honest, genuine, sincere. Unlike most bards, I don’t desire to eat hearts where I go and leave them shattered within my wake. I... have far too much respect for people to do that.”  ► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ The bard grinned, and merely lifted up his hand to show the Ishgardian Steel wedding band shaped like a dragon that circled his ring finger like an Oroboros. “...Does this answer your question?” ► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ He chuckled warmly as a wolfish grin settled over his features. “Of course! My hand’s can’t keep themselves off of my beloved, for one. For two, my friends are used to that being simply how I greet them.” ► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ He offered a sharp, loud, huff of a laugh. “I wish, if only for the experience...” he smirked “If I have one, their so secret even I don’t know about them.” ► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ The bard winced, before offering a soft frown as his eyes closed with a side ward flick of his gaze. “...Many times. To spare others pain, hardship, complications, or torment I have had to walk away when I’d rather I not have to on many occasions. It’s how I’ve managed to avoid breaking the hearts of others, my own takes the blow on their behalf, many I imagine aren't even aware of it.”

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ The bard huffed out his breath with a shake of his head... “Come now, you can’t possibly make me choose between those?” he arched a brow, only to frown when the question was indeed serious. “Stars, for me you can’t have one without the other. I don’t have sex with people, just to have sex with people. I have to be fond of them to some degree, otherwise it’s just using another person for your own pleasure, which is something I can’t stomach.” His shoulder’s shrugged “When I’m in love? My love is both emotional and physical. If I can’t explore my beloveds likes, dislikes, passions, and build a dynamic with them. If I can’t set my blood on fire and show them how I feel in the most intimate manner known to mortal kind. What then, separates our bond from just having a very deep, platonic friendship?” His head shook, and a palm lifted with a shake as well. “Not for me, my beloved better accept that I’ll be an outright horn dog for them, and realize that it’s because of the fact I love them so much.” ► Lemonade or iced tea ➔ He grinned. “Tea, without contest. Specially when sweetened with honey, or fruit juice mixed in with it.’ ► Cats or Dogs ➔ “Dogs” the wight didn’t even hesitate, though after a moment of thought he did quirk a brow. “..Unless you mean cat men and women, in that case I’ll heavily consider changing my opinion.”  ► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ The bard smirked a smile, fond and sweet. “Few best friends. As a bard acquaintances and regular connections are helpful, and do well to ease the quiet and loneliness at times. But they are infrequent, and prone to falling out of contact on that individuals whim. Such is why I prefer a few close, stable, consistent people in which to invest myself and a bond with.” ► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “Romantic Night In” the words came with a sharp, swift fondness as a smile curled into place along his lips. Even his hands lifted, flowing as he continued... “A candlelit bath, incense scenting the air, two glasses of blush wine laced with just a small hint of clove oil to spark the desire. Worshiping your beloveds skin with the fond caress of fingertips, and the reverent kiss of lips. Exploring them, making their breath catch within their throat, and their heart quicken. A romantic sensuality...” ► Day or night ➔ “Night” he said plainly and with a swiftness. “The Sunless sea is the home of the celestials, my deities. To be beneath it is to be as if within a church, and thus I do most if not all of my activities of import beneath a starlit sky. Cloaked in their blessed shadows, and illuminated by moonlight. To have something of importance happen in the suns light is to welcome ruin to it. Or so my people have long believed.”

FOUR HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ “Not yet, though I think my beloved’s senses are slowly becoming keener to my methods. For now however, they seem to only notice my absence after a few hours have passed, and I’ve yet to be caught in the act.” The bard then reached up a hand, and promptly knocked on the wooden part of the wall behind him.  ► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “Unfortunately...” the sigh that left his lips was a heavy one as his eyes rolled. “Take it as advice, or wisdom. But do not get drunk within the forgotten knight and then attempt to navigate the pillars of Ishgard while intoxicated. It does not end well for you, or the unfortunate parties having to tend to you afterwards.” ► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ “To want for something unobtainable, is simply an excuse to use it as motivation towards a means to obtain it. But when that want is for a person?” he sighed softly... “That is a pain not so easily twisted into optimism. Nor does acceptance come easy, or quickly.” ► Wanted to disappear ➔ The bard offered a chuckle. “I have, and succeeded. That is all I will offer on the matter, as I would very much desire to keep it that way.”

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ The bard’s hand lifted, before pointing two fingers to his moon-white orbs. “Eyes” he stated firmly “For some, a smile has become impossible to form as they’ve long forgotten how over the duration of their suffering. But if you look into their eyes, you can see even in the depths of their pain, their fighting against the inner demons, the shimmer of warmth that tells of the difference you’ve just made. No matter how brief.” ► Shorter or Taller ➔ He grinned. “Shorter, there is a lot I can do romantically with someone smaller then me. From sweeping them off their feet, to curling up around them in bed. Besides, it’s hard to find people taller then me, and of those that do - generally were more for sparring outside of the bedroom then in one.” ► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ “Intelligence” he offered swiftness and a smile. “A pretty face is pleasant, but a sharp mind is what I thrive on most. The trading of sass, wit, sarcasm, humor, and being able to collaborate with another over my creative ideas are things I cherish.” He then offered a rich, deep laugh. “I often say, the fastest way to get me to fall in love with you, is to roast me so well that I’m left with the only option of laying in the grave you made me dig for myself without even realizing it.” ► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ The bard offers a firm nod. “Relationship. While hook-ups are fun, for a while, they loose their luster easily enough and leave the heart wanting more. Thus, is why I invest my time into my relationships with others, be they romantic or platonic. It’s these meaningful connections, nurturing them, growing them, developing them, that bring me the most fulfillment.”

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ The bard offered a thick, sarcastic laugh. “I was separated from my parents as soon as I was old enough to pick up a wooden sword, as is custom. The only brothers I’ve ever known, are my fellow hunters and we... Well, we get along like brothers. If were not drinking together, were fighting one another either to settle an argument, or out of sheer pleasure and enjoyment. So I shall leave that up to your interpretation.” ► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ His head shook gently. “No. While some who hear my story, and are privy to the more guarded details, may surely think so. I never once considered myself of having been subjected to a ‘tragic backstory’. My life is what it is, and had to be what it was, for me to become what I have.” He shrugged. “My life is what it needed to be, to be what it is, and will become.” ► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ His head shook again. “No, never. I’ve been loyal to the end, and left home only when there was no one else there to linger around for.” ► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ His shoulder’s bobbed with a deep, rich chuckle. “I was... voluntarily exiled” he stated slowly, and with keen purpose. “When we become hunters, we are condemned to live out the rest of our lives on the surface, fulfilling our duties until the day the Monsters we hunt succeed in killing us.”

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “Stars no!” the answer came swiftly, and with a turn of the bard’s head in worry. “I have so few of them, and new ones don’t just grow on bushes in the middle of the forest. I’m an honest person, if I have a problem with someone, I tell them so. Now... if that results in me being punched in the face for it or not, is another matter.” ► Do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ The bard’s head shook lightly. “I have two good friends, the rest are... barely more then acquaintances. While I would desire more, that is not up to me but rather others to decide if they wish to get to know me or not. But I can see how a white eyes, silver haired, silver tongued Wight can be intimidating.” ► Who is your best friend ➔ “Honestly?” he sighed softly, and his head sank into his hand with a rubbing of his fingertips against his temples. “...My horse. I tell them everything I do when not with them, and they witness everything I do when within their company.” ► Who knows everything about you ➔ “My horse, for reasons previously stated..” 

Tagged by: @umbralich​

Tagging: All of my followers who have not done this yet, and desire to. It was quite fun, even though it took over four hours to do.

#tagged #thank you for the tag! #character interview #Sorneth #Enjoy!

[wellthatwasaletdown]

A Rant That Nobody Asked For

I read a comment on here the other day that said that Harry Styles career can’t die unless he does something outrageously heinous or controversial, and unless he’s publicly hated more than he’s liked, I actually disagree with that. I don’t know why it bothered me enough to write this whole thing but here we go.

The entire Kardashian brand is built on feeding off of public outrage. People seem to not understand that they want you to hate them. They know that a large portion of their audience dislike them, but follow and pay attention, just to see what thing they do next that they can hate on. Brands are doing that as well. Where they are intentionally putting out overtly racist clothing, slogans, advertising, obviously offensive products, because really and truly, consumers want to be apart of the outrage, consumers enjoy dragging shit. A European makeup brand made a lipstick color called the n-word, and after the outrage on twitter, the lipstick sold out in less then ten hours. I think there are people who think that they’re being helpful or effective by hating the Kardashians, but in actuality by hating them you’re feeding into their machine, you’re putting money in their pockets.

So people always tweet things like  how is James Charles still getting millions of views despite his gross behaviour, how is Camilla Cabello still able to headline tours after calling Normani the n-word repeatedly, how is Kodak Black still making music even though there’s several rape accusations against him? The last one I’d argue is because the volume on rape allegations drops significantly when the accusation comes from black women, and we don’t listen to them or give black women’s voices the validity we should. But overall the reason these people still have careers is BECAUSE some people hate them. (I don't think Camilla is publicly hated but hear me out) That’s what they want. By calling out people who fuel they’re careers off of outrage, you’re fighting a fruitless battle because you’re appealing to the sympathy of people who actually don’t give a fuck. They know what they’re doing, they don’t care who’s hurt, they don’t care the real world affect of their words, they don’t care about learning or growing from their actions, but they bank on the fact that you care about those things and will take time out of your day to try and break it down for them. They exist to antagonize their audience and then get the label “controversial”. I’m 100% positive that Kylie Jenner knew that people were going to mad about Kylie Skin, but she let them be mad, she let them hate on her loudly, she let that hate act as free promo, and then her skincare line sold out. If Kim Kardashian put her hair in braids, and no one said anything but instead she lost a shit ton of followers, if all the people who disagreed with that unfollowed her, she would’ve never done that shit again. But because the outrage actually gained her followers and traction, she continues to do it. Everyone knows what cultural appropriation is. Everybody does. Maybe not everyone understands why it can be so damaging but everyone knows what it is. So famous women right now who are posting pictures of themselves in cornrows or bindis or in Native headdresses, they know better. They know people are going to be mad, they know people are going to be hurt, they know this. But they profit off of it. They are dependant on your outrage, for a surge in media attention. I’m not saying that these girls are heinous human beings, but I’m saying it’s 100% intentional. It’s intentional. You’re wasting your energy in the comments trying to educate them, trying to get them to see why people are upset, they don’t care. They don’t care why you’re upset, they just want you angry, and then once you’re angry they’ll flip it on you and play the victim and talk about how intense and evil social media has been to them. These girls posting incredibly photoshopped pictures of themselves, and pictures with their ribs jutting out from their bodies, not disclosing all of the surgery they’ve had to impressionable young girls, they are literally profiting off of their viewers insecurity.  It’s business. It’s a game. 

(This is a side note but with all of the PR relationships Harry’s been in, really and truly him having a girlfriend might have a really negative impact on the girls linked to him, but they have positive affects for Harry. Because when he has a girlfriend, his fans feel insecure, they compare themselves to this model girlfriend, they wonder if this is the kind of woman he wants and I don’t look like that, what’s wrong with me? They hurt, they get uncomfortable, and often respond with intense hate, but really that hate comes from a place of insecurity and pain. But see, when they’re hurting, he can turn around and ask you to pay him to tell him that he loves you.)

This is getting longwinded but what I’m getting to is that the opposite of love isn’t hate, it never has been, the opposite of love is INDIFFERENCE. Being publicly hated doesn’t always end careers, in fact public outrage can be manufactured to gain traction and attention for a person or brand. The only answer to truly get rid of those kind of people is to respond with silence and indifference and the removal of your attention. This is why I think that honestly, Harry has every possibility of his career dwindling away. I don’t know that he’ll ever be “unsuccessful” because he has his core audience but I think we’re seeing more and more that we live in a world where everyone is really ready to jump on a hatred bandwagon, that the careers that really die, are not the people who you’re angry at. The careers that die are the people that you are entirely indifferent to.

It’s been proven that Harry Styles is incredibly sensitive to the point where he and his fans cannot even stand constructive criticism. It is greatly important to him to be publicly upheld and adored, and I think that that proved itself with the TV show he produced that was based on him, because he couldn’t even allow the character that was meant to vaguely represent him to be a fully fleshed out character with flaws and negative attributes, instead the character ended up being a lot like what Harry presents to the world, a caricature of a great guy. Harry presents an image that is meant to be interpreted and digested in whatever way you like. If you want him to be a feminist he is, if you don’t want him to be he’s not, if you want him to be a bad boy? Gay? Straight? A sweetheart? A rich sugar daddy aesthetic? A true artist who only cares about the music? He’s a walking fan fiction on purpose, because it is of such high importance to him to be adored and to be accepted that he presents nothing, and allows his fans to do all the work in implanting their own vision on him, and then his fans sustain his fame for him out of personal obligation and emotional ties they have to the idea of him they created, right?

Harry isn’t designed to be someone that can be hated, he intentionally straddles every topic, and stays right in the middle and never says anything controversial, to the point where he really doesn’t share any actual opinions. He spews apolitical sweetness and kindness, and creates a pseudo-political activism aesthetic without actually giving opinions, because he doesn’t have to, he’s dependant on the fact that his fans will project their opinions onto him, and assume he’s on whichever side they’re on. He’s not sustaining a career based off of the music, because the people who listen to his music, listen to him as a byproduct of already loving him. The people who pay attention to his content, do so out of love for who they believe he is as a person. Harry Styles is really not a celebrity who has many casual fans. I think in terms of his looks, he does, casual fans who will comment on his look at the Met Gala, or comment on him being good-looking, but not many casual fans who would sit down and listen to an album of his, you know?

The emptiness fans are feeling now comes from the fact that Harry used to pander to maintaining his audience at an emotional level, and insinuate a relationship between he and his audience, that he no longer cares to feed, and all the Harries, whether they admit or not, are feeling the distance and feeling his withdrawal. I bring this up because, now we're seeing even some Harries are growing not hateful, not resentful, but indifferent towards him. They are getting exhausted of having to maintain their ideal of him, and having to fight themselves into liking something that's really not there. As someone who's still kind of in the Harry Styles bubble, I can't argue this 100% but I do feel that there is a level of indifference towards him from the general public.

(Another side note: One similarity between Harry and the Kardashians is what I call convenient stupidity. They claim smarts and being smart business people, Harry specifically is obsessed with putting out an aesthetic of intellect, but when it’s convenient for them, they want you to assume that they are stupid and/or not responsible for whatever your upset about and/or that they don’t understand what they’ve done. If you think they’re stupid you’ll underestimate them and you’ll never assume that you’re the one being played. By keeping you thinking that you’re mentally above them, they manipulate you, every time.)

Harry couldn’t even commit to the rock music aesthetic fully, because rock music, real rock music, has to come with commitment and controversy, and he’s so obsessed with being adored across the board. I highly doubt he’ll ever get involved in real controversy or that he’d use controversy as a marketing ploy, just because we’ve seen time and time again that he’s prioritized public adoration over the actual quality of his work. But like I said, as he pulls away, the manufactured love between him and his fans is getting harder for them to hold on to, it’s getting hard for them to rearrange information to make him the guy he was to them. I’m telling you, what’s going to kill Harry is not intense hatred, but indifference. As he tries to gear himself to an older audience, he's not going to be able to manufacture the same blind adoration that 1D fans were able to give him in the beginning. We're already beginning to see indifference towards him grow.

#anonymous #harry styles #submission

[amysubmits]

Good afternoon. I was wanted to seek your advice on how to explain a d/s dynamic to someone who is a moderate feminist female who is vanilla? This person is my best friend and I find myself having a hard time explaining to her that I have rules and punishments. Any tips on how to explain it?

Full disclosure: I haven’t admitted our D/s to any of my “real life” friends. I’ve talked to a lot of submissives who have and most seem to say they get a general sense of acceptance from their non-submissive friends, but it’s nowhere near the type of understanding they feel from fellow subs. So for me, I just don’t feel that there is likely much benefit in trying to share. 

I think how you go about it might vary depending on how you view D/s yourself, honestly.

For example, I’ve seen a post go around that talks about D/s being a “mutually agreed upon fiction”. If you view your D/s as essentially role-play then I think in some ways that makes it easier to explain to an outsider because it’s just enjoying playing a role, and it can allow you to dismiss any equality concerns simply based on how it’s acting. 

I don’t see my D/s as fiction or as role-play either one. So that makes it trickier to explain I think.

I guess I’ll try to do this from my own personal perspective? I realize your views and D/s style may be different from mine but hopefully, enough will apply where it can give you a good jumping off point?

I guess the points I would try to get across are:

Everything exists only with mutual consent. I want everything that happens. If I change my mind about what I want we can talk about it. I am forced into nothing. 

Everything we do feels like love to me in some way or another. While I realize that domestic discipline, or even some of the kinky acts I engage in are going to seem off-putting, harsh, aggressive, maybe even scary - to some others, they don’t feel like that to me. 

My relationship feels balanced to me. Yes, we do not split everything 50/50 in the sense that we aren’t rotating who does the dishes every other night or in terms of having 50/50 decision making say in every aspect of our lives. But does any couple really divide everything literally 50/50? Isn’t it pretty common to say oh, you make dinner and then I’ll do the dishes and call that ‘fair’ even though it’s not identical jobs? If a wife loves cooking while the husband hates cooking, she can cook and he can do the dishes and they will both feel like they got the better deal, right? I think it’s also pretty rare to find couples who truly divide every decision 50/50 either. Well D/s is just sort of a big extension on those common behaviors, because CD and I like different things. We may not split every individual responsibility in half, but he takes some responsibilities, I take others and we both feel like our relationship is fair to us. This includes practical things like division of labor, but also things like who makes the final decision in many areas of our lives. In general, he likes control while I prefer following and pleasing him. So while he calls most of the shots, it feels fair to both of us because we are both doing what we prefer. 

I don’t submit because I think I am weak or inferior. He doesn’t view me as weak or inferior either. I submit because it makes me feel happy and fulfilled. If I felt that submitting was making me weaker or in any way ‘worse’ I wouldn’t do this.

In fact, submission feels empowering to me because it has allowed me to let out my deepest wants and needs which has allowed me to get more comfortable in my own skin. Through D/s I’ve tried new things, I’ve accomplished goals, my communication skills have increased, my confidence has increased, my ability to set boundaries have increased, etc.

I don’t fully know why I am submissive, but I also can’t give a detailed explanation for why I am an introvert, or why my favorite color is purple, why I am straight, or why I like Americana music. Like many other things, being a submissive just feels like part of me that I didn’t choose and cannot control. Yet it brings me a lot of happiness so I embrace it. 

More specifically when it comes to feminism, my idea of feminism is about equal rights and choice. I think we should be supporting women (and all people) to be who they really are and to go for what they really want. If that is to be a diesel mechanic, a neurosurgeon, an esthetician or a housewife those are all equally feminist choices in my opinion. In my view, a woman choosing to submit to a man is just the same. I think me choosing to should be viewed as just as appropriate or feminist as choosing any other relationship style.  

It’s a lot to try to get into a single conversation, the very idea is rather daunting to me. I tend to dislike written communication because without hearing the words spoken or seeing body language, it’s easy to misread tone. However, I think this is just too much to try to get across verbally so I’d probably try to write it. 

Good luck! 

#asks

[lightningenergy]

@lightningenergy and @codyscommandpost proudly present:

Operation Cloudburst, a Pokémon Fan-Fiction

Disclaimer: Pokémon is copyright its original owners. The authors only own the plot and original characters. Any representation of real persons, dead or alive, is purely coincidental unless it makes a damn good reference.

Shout-outs to my “little sister” @princessofhoenn for beta-reading this chapter! :)

Chapter 9 - “A Jewel in the Rough! The Gorgeous Oasis, Phenac City!”

Having applied a Revive and Hyper Potion to Wartortle, May withdrew it back into the safety of its Poké Ball. She should’ve put more thought into combatting that Tyranitar: she had surrendered herself into rage and her Pokémon suffered for it. Deep down May knew that Wartortle wouldn’t hold the loss against her — that just wasn’t its personality — but the burden of guilt was certainly going to gnaw away at her for days to come.

Her legs groaning their disapproval as she stood up, May brushed off as much dirt as she could. The cut on her forehead was still throbbing (she would have to get it bandaged), but other than that she wasn’t physically injured as terribly as she was emotionally. At least, she thought, it would be easier to conceal the latter than the former, which was a minute comfort.

Manya probably wouldn’t be pleased with me hiding that, May realized. The other girl offered a much-appreciated emotional outlet, of course… who, then, would comfort the comforter when it all became too much?

These thoughts drifted with the wind as May walked. Each step forward was an exhausting effort, yet she could not perceive the solid ground beneath her feet. Her brain automatically guided her towards the smoldering wreckage of the Snagem Hideout, and her body trudged along without complaint. The already bleak desert scenery blurred from view, becoming even more nondescript.

May subconsciously glanced up at the pillar of smoke wafting from the explosion sight. It had thinned somewhat, though its sooty color remained a blight against the mid-morning sky. Bits of rubble were gradually appearing along the landscape: shards of glass, metal beams twisted out of shape, singed and blackened chairs… May’s stomach shrunk at the thought of finding any disembodied limbs on the ground.

The debris thickened as May approached the hideout’s entrance, a synthetic maw that looked as though it had been hewn from the very canyon walls. Scorch marks stretched from the lone doorway from which the smoke was drifting, and the air burned with the bitter stench of explosives.

Manya was standing a few feet away from the doorway, directing her Solrock as it manipulated a girder with Psychic. The Meteorite Pokémon’s eyes shone a bright blue and the girder was lowered to the ground, which coughed up a fresh cloud of dust as the steel beam landed with a loud clunk.

Manya gave Solrock a gentle pat as it lowered down towards her level. “Good job, Solrock. You just let me know if you’re feeling overworked, okay?”

Solrock tilted forward in a nodding motion before turning back to clear the way. Manya’s dirt-stained face broke into a weary smile as May advancing towards her. “The shrimp and sleuth are inside,” she reported. “We found a few survivors, but they scampered off before we could do anything else.”

May nodded, her throat drying at the mention of “survivors”. There were some casualties after all… she unconsciously rubbed her eyes and felt her shoulders drop. People have died because of me. The thought sliced through her brain, shattering her confidence. I might as well have triggered the bomb…

Manya seemed to know what May was thinking, for she said, “Don’t go beating yourself over this. I know it’s frustrating but if you ask me I know this isn’t your fault. I think Abyss woulda blown this place up regardless if you were here or not.”

“I could have prevented this,” May mumbled, finding it easier to concentrate on her boots rather than Manya’s face. “I could’ve saved them…”

“How would you have known?” Manya asked, her voice firm yet unaggressive, hands on her hips. “You’re not a fortune teller, May… this was out of your control.”

May nodded again, though privately she reflected on their previous musings on approaching Snagem themselves and cursed herself for not taking charge yesterday. She was jolted out of this rumination by Manya placing a hand onto her shoulder, and suddenly found herself looking into her friend’s lilac eyes.

“Listen to me,” Manya said, her brow narrowed to the most minimal degree. “This. Was. Not. Your. Fault. You, me, Looker… even the brat… we’re human. We’re not omnipotent. Shit happens, y’know?”

May gazed into Manya’s eyes, simultaneously awed and ashamed of the faith Manya was displaying. She knew that Manya was right: they were only fifteen, and perhaps they would’ve been caught off-guard even if they were fifty. But the fact remained that people — even if they were bad guys — had lost their lives today.

May sighed and dropped her head onto Manya’s shoulder. She had been awake for not even three hours now but already wished to drift back into the dark void of sleep. I can’t let this get to me, she found herself thinking as Manya softly caressed her hair. I must keep going… I’ll make Abyss pay for this. I will stop them… even if I burn to cinders.

The holographic map caused her eyes to water but May refused to look away. She wanted to engrave the locales of Orre into every fold and crevice of her brain, an idea that sprouted from the desire to be worried over one less concern. Looker stood with her, having explained that he had been briefed on the geography for his mission. He had begun by pointing out where she had already been: Gateon Port on the western shore and jumping east before settling at their current location on the edge of Eclo Canyon.

“What’s this?” A city resting at the southern edge caught May’s attention. The icon on the Snag Machine’s map suggested the image of a secluded island or a wading pool, though she couldn’t imagine water existing in a remote area.

Looker followed her gaze. “That is Phenac City. It was, I believe, one of the first settlements in Orre: the city’s founder managed to draw water from underground.”

“Hm,” said May. The mention of water caused her mind to drift away into daydreams of lowering herself into a deep, wide pool. After enduring the searing heat, being able to swim in cooled water had become a far-off fantasy. The notion of running for Phenac City was incredibly tempting: it did lie directly south of the Libra, after all… but once she thought about it, beelining for Phenac just to refresh herself was an awfully greedy motive.

Manya and Smidge entered the Libra, both sweaty and sporting dark circles under their eyes. Smidge plopped straight down onto the ground, while Manya staggered over to drape an arm around May’s shoulder.

“We searched as best we could,” she reported, her voice sounding much more active than she looked. “But we couldn’t find anyone else… it looked like Abyss’ bomb was rather powerful, everything was either burned, melted, or outright broken. Ooh,” she said, catching sight of the map. “Are we going to Phenac?”

“If there’s good reason to,” May replied. She secretly hoped there was, if only to experience indoor plumbing again and get herself into a shower. “What do you know about it?”

“Well, it’s pretty lively, and rightly so with all the water they’ve got,” Manya explained. “And very low crime rates, too, especially lately…”

Smidge exhaled a noise of dissent through his nose but Manya pretended not to have heard as she continued. “Got themselves a Gym or something, too.”

“I am of the opinion that we should not be attempting to earn Badges,” said Looker plainly. “Instead, my thought is that Phenac’s lack of villainy should provide an opportunity to rejoin civilization and gather information.”

“If they’ll let us clean up, I’m all for it,” May said, deciding that she couldn’t hide her motivation anymore. She tapped the Snag Machine’s screen and the map flickered away. “Manya, if you’re up for taking us there —”

Manya was already preparing Miss Birdie for the trip. “It’ll be a tight fit, but you should all be able to ride aboard easily enough.” She flashed a sinister grin over at Smidge. “Feel free to toss the shrimp overboard to stretch your legs.”

“I’ll stretch that big mouth o’ yours, blondie, if you keep draggin’ me.”

“Be glad it’s only verbally for now.”

“Knock it off, guys,” May cut in flatly. As awkward as the thought was, she couldn’t help but reflect on how much Manya and Smidge’s taunting reminded her of Ash and Misty. She spent most of the trip south wondering if anything ever happened between her two friends, and if not, how she could assist them along the way.

The sound of rushing water greeted them after Manya shut off her motorbike’s engine. Tan walls curved around the city, however, perhaps to shield travelers from the sunlight reflecting off the water as they approached. True to Manya’s description, several people were making their way either to or from Phenac through the wide archways carved through the walls. May inhaled and could practically taste the water on the roof of her mouth. The sensation was surprising, though gratefully received.

Lush fronds of palm trees swayed in the moisture-carrying breeze, and May couldn’t help but imagine that the temperature had dropped several degrees once they had entered Phenac’s boundaries. A large fountain churned water about in the main plaza, in front of which stood a tall man in a suit conversing with a smaller man with a bow tie.

“… really think this could work,” the suited man was saying, his voice growing clearer as May and her group walked by. “I’m fully prepared to fund as much as necessary.”

“That’s very generous, Your Honor,” the second man answered. His reedy voice nonetheless reflected the gratitude he was experiencing. “I’ll draw up plans immediately…”

May focused on the city boundary again. She had only just noticed the water flowing atop the wall like an aqueduct. She was wondering what practical use that had when the tall man’s voice shattered her imagination.

“Welcome to Phenac!” he said, looking around at them. His neatly-trimmed beard shifted as he smiled and pushed up his horn-rimmed glasses slightly. He extended out a hand. “I’m Mayor Trest.”

They each gripped his hand in turn, and May found herself wondering about the genuineness of the warmth in Trest’s eyes. Fate would be a cruel bitch indeed if he turned out to be evil all along. Her sight flickered over to the second man, who adjusted his bowtie before staring around at them all.

“Oh, pardon me,” Trest had noticed May’s line of sight and gestured over to his companion. “This brilliant young man is Caecus. He’s brought up a wonderful proposal… would you like to explain?”

Caecus nodded and cleared his throat. His thin, light hair fluttered about in the dry breeze that swept by. “Phenac’s experienced tremendous success thanks to its waterway system. I believe it is imperative that other areas in Orre should construct the same.”

“Bringing water to a desert? Whoda thought? Ouch!” Smidge’s sarcastic comment was reprimanded by Manya putting him into a chokehold.

“That sounds wonderful,” Manya told Caecus, ignoring Smidge’s efforts to pry himself free from her grip. “I hope it works out!”

“I have an inquiry,” added Looker. “My current understanding is such that dropping large quantities of water in an arid environment introduces catastrophic results.”

May, Manya, and Smidge all stared at Looker in minor disbelief, though Caecus beamed. “Indeed!” he said, delighted. “Desert soil can’t absorb all that moisture at once, you see; disastrous flooding occurs. Instead, we shall be taking the cautious route and gradually introduce water. In this way, we can minimize the negative effects.”

Looker nodded satisfactorily. “His Honor has selected the appropriate man for the occupation.”

“They sound alike, don’t they?” May whispered to Manya, who smiled.

“Phanec’s the first city in Orre to implement Caecus’ blueprint.” Trest interjected, clapping a hand on the scientist’s shoulder. “The hope is for other areas to follow suit once they realize how successful this shall become.”

“Fair warning, Your Honor,” Caecus said with the barest hint of a smile. “This is still rather experimental… I’d rather not have my funding revoked should something happen…”

“Come now, my good man,” Trest grinned broadly and thumped Caecus on the back. “You can’t walk through life without stumbling a few times!”

May ruminated on that remark. Perhaps, despite even all her concern and anxiety, she had been attacking this issue too hastily. Yes, she was exercising caution (much to Smidge’s displeasure), but what if that hesitation was born from desiring perfection? Had she really been expecting everything to resolve without a problem lurking behind every corner? A scene of Max throwing a tantrum over a school assignment flashed in her mind’s eye, and May was forced to admit that she inherited something from her father after all.

“On that note,” continued Trest, and May looked up to see him gazing around at them. “It looks like you’ve been stumbling around quite a bit.”

May found herself agreeing. After all the traveling, Manya, Smidge, and Looker were all covered with dust and sand. She knew she couldn’t be much better: her gloves were no longer pristinely white, and her stockings bore rips and tears. While Manya did bandage the cut on her forehead, they had forgotten to clean off the blood around the wound.

“My dearest apologizes, Your Honor,” stammered Looker as he frantically began to brush off his coat. “We have not established plumbing at our, ah, main location…”

“That just won’t do.” Trest shook his head before smiling. “Well, I was already going to invite Caecus over for lunch, but I’d like the extend the invitation to you as well! As well as use of my shower, as needed.”

“If this guy turns out to be evil I’m gonna hate myself,” May muttered to Manya before speaking to Trest. “That would be wonderful, thank you.”

Trest smiled around them all and gestured towards a house on the city’s upper level. Caecus led the way, with May’s group following and Trest at their heels. The sun beat down upon them, evaporating the cool water into the air into a pleasant sort of humidity. Caecus held open the door and they filed in. An air conditioner was running somewhere in the house: the chill was discomforting but preferable to the heat outside.

Smidge plopped down on a couch, edging away from Looker as the agent took the spot next to him. Caecus sat in an armchair, shifting uncomfortably as though the sudden company had unnerved him. Manya and May sat on the floor: the former upright supported by her arms, the latter lying flat on her stomach. Even the scratchy carpet felt cold and relaxing.

“Bless my wife, she made extras.” chortled Trent as he reentered the living room. “I’m glad to see you’ve all made yourselves comfortable. Miss May, is it?”

May turned over onto her back, staring at him. Her heart jumped: as far as she was aware, no one had brought up her name within Trest’s vicinity. Had she been right and led them into a trap?

Trest noticed her confusion and clarified, “I keep in touch with Lily and Professor Krane. Phenac was conquered a few years ago by some hooligans, so I thought it best to keep the brightest and noblest minds in Orre at my side.”

May nodded weakly and reversed onto her stomach again, which was now squirming. Sweat trickled down her arms and she wondered if that was from the heat or the sudden dose of panic and shock.

“Anyways,” Trest continued. “My wife suggested that I allow you to clean up, which I’m sure you’d like. Our bathroom’s upstairs on the left.”

May nodded again. A shower would certainly revitalize her, but laziness had come to the fore. Any motivation was entirely drained, and she felt perfectly content to just close her eyes and drift away into bliss. Yet a meal loomed, and May was never one to avoid food… Screw it, she thought. Food first, shower and coma later.

Trest’s wife’s area of cooking expertise turned out to be comfort food. The dining room table was laden with thick, hearty dishes. Powerful yet soothing aromas wafted throughout the house, quickly luring May into a chair.

She spent all of dinner eating rather than talking, piling her plate with triple servings of mashed potatoes, bread rolls, and a very filling macaroni-and-cheese casserole. The others’ conversations drifted over her head, and she resolutely ignored Smidge’s snide comments about her eating habits.

Looker offered to assist with the dishes, so May trudged upstairs to the guest room. There wasn’t a part of her body that didn’t feel weighed down: her stomach with food, her brain with worry, and her eyes with exhaustion. She dropped her bag and shoes to the floor before collapsing onto the only bed in the room, everything instantly melting away into blissful sleep.

Her eyes snapped open hours later. The small alarm clock on the nightstand flashed the time: a little after three in the morning. Something shuffled next to her, and May looked to see Manya curled up under the blankets, her chest rising and falling with each breath. Quietly and gently, May slid off the mattress.

The house was utterly silent and colored inky-gray. Taking care not to step on any creaky floorboards, May snuck downstairs and sat herself in front of the video phone in the living room. She picked up the receiver and began to dial, hoping that Hoenn and Orre didn’t share time zones.

Her call was answered on the third ring, and the screen burst to life, revealing May’s mother Caroline on the other end. “Well, hello, May! This is a surprise!”

May would probably never admit it, but the sight of her mother’s smiling face brought forth a surge of relief. “Hey, mom. Hope I didn’t catch you a bad time.”

“Oh, not at all!” Caroline assured her. “I was just having my coffee when I heard the phone ring.”

May nodded, eyes flickering to the sunlight drifting through the window behind Caroline. “That’s good. It’s early morning here, and I didn’t know…” her voice trailed off and she had to shake herself clear. “Anyways, I thought I’d say hello.”

“That’s very sweet, dear,” smiled Caroline before sipping her coffee. “Norman told me you had another big adventure waiting. I told him that you’re practically a grown woman by now and this shouldn’t be a surprise!”

May smiled and nodded, making a mental note to never disclose this excursion to her mother. “Yeah, something just came up, that’s all. It’s not like I was running away from you guys or anything.”

Caroline was staring back at her with a curious expression on her face. “May, dear,” she said, her voice thick with motherly concern. “Are you doing alright?”

“I —”

Her mother’s question had caught her off-guard. She thought she concealed her mood well enough, but just enough had slipped through the cracks for Caroline to notice. May turned away from the monitor, as loud of an admission of guilt as her speaking aloud.

“I’m just hitting a few road blocks,” May continued. Ones that continually try to murder me, she added mentally. “So I’ve been a little discouraged…”

If Caroline believed this answer unsatisfactory, she didn’t say so. Instead she set down her mug and gripped the receiver with both hands. “May, I’m going to tell you something your grandfather once told me: if you’re running into enemies, you’re headed in the right direction.”

May stared at her mother’s face and said nothing.

“I know that everyone — especially Trainers — can find themselves in difficult situations. But you’re my daughter, and I know that you aren’t someone to let that stop you. I mean, when you started your journey five years ago you only wanted to travel, and now you’re a celebrated Coordinator!”

May rubbed the tears out of her eyes, trying to play it off as a yawn. “Thanks, mom. I know you’d root for me.”

“Forever and always,” Caroline beamed. “Don’t let anyone stop you, honey. You’ve got the passion and drive to bowl over anyone who stands in your way!”

May nodded again, but with sincerity behind the gesture. Caroline’s words had improved her spirit somewhat, and her chest burned with determination to return to Petalburg in one piece. “You know it, mom. I’m gonna get back to sleep…”

“Rest up, dear. A rested woman’s a beautiful woman!”

May waved as the screen turned off before hanging up the receiver. A remarkable sense of calm washed over her as she ascended the stairs. She had to hand it to her mother: she knew just the right things to say without knowing all the details (not that May would’ve told her).

May climbed back into bed without disturbing Manya. After settling into a comfortable position, she closed her eyes and allowed the gentle rhythm of her friend’s breathing to lull her back to sleep.

Trest’s wife whipped up another generously large meal for breakfast. Once again May neglected conversation, directing her attention towards numerous helpings of pancakes, scrambled eggs, sausages, toast, and juice. A ceiling fan whirled overhead, cooling the six people around the table from Orre’s harsh morning sunlight.

Trest’s eyes were lowered upon the daily newspaper while his wife nudged him every so often as a reminder to eat the food sitting on his plate. Manya, sitting beside May, drizzled syrup on her fifteen-high pancake stack. Looker and Smidge, meanwhile, dissolved into an argument over the boy not drinking a glass of milk.

“I ain’t drinkin’ nothing that came from a cow!” Smidge growled, eyes blazing with dislike.

“Miltank milk is highly nutritious!” Looker countered. He picked up the glass bottle from the table and held it in front of Smidge’s face. “With a luxurious, creamy taste that leaves you satisfied –”

“Shove off, ya old fart! It’s gross and nothin’ will get me ta drink it!”

May shook her head as she took another bite of toast. She possessed little intention to intervene and was in fact rather grateful for Looker attempting to order Smidge around.

“Any more, dear?” Trest’s wife inquired as May drained her glass.

“No, thank you,” she replied with a thin smile. “But it was all delicious.” She stacked up her empty dishes and set them in the sink. “I, er… hope I didn’t eat too much.”

“With how little my husband tends to eat, I welcome the change.” Trest’s wife simpered, nudging Trest playfully with her elbow.

May went upstairs, slipped on her boots and bag, and stepped out of the house. Ignoring the bombardment of eighty-degree heat, she began making her way towards the center of town. Hardly anyone else was out, aside from a jogger being chased by his Castform. Though given this heat I’m not surprised.

She continued walking until she reached a plain, rounded building. It caught her eye yesterday but there hadn’t been an opportunity to visit until now. Nothing about the building stood out aside from carvings above the entrance that read “Prestige Precept Center”. How curious that a region without a Pokémon League would have something very much resembling a Gym…

May gazed at the writing for a while until a voice spoke, causing her to jump.

“I was curious as to where you had disappeared.” Looker frowned concernedly down at her, arms folded.

“I’m not running off, if that’s what you mean,” May replied evenly.

Looker shook his head. “From what your magical companion was revealed to me, you have accomplished a great of deal of things. Dashing away would not cohere to that.”

“I just said I’m not.” May spun on her heel before Looker could answer, stepped up to the PreGym door, and pulled it open.

Cold air rushed onto her face as she looked around. The building was a single room, with a battlefield taking up most of the space in the center. A chalkboard, a table, and some chairs stood to the left; on the right sat a large half-circle control panel. Other than herself and Looker (following her inside), May noticed that no one seemed to be around.

A mechanical grinding noise caught her attention: turning towards the source May spotted an elevator against the back wall. The doors slid open and a young man stepped out. His sharp face and just-unkept-enough fuchsia hair made him resemble a hypothetical older brother of May’s Contest rival, Drew.

“Hello there!” he called as he started walking across the room. “Welcome to my Pre Gym!”

“This is a Gym…?” May found herself asking aloud.

“Pre Gym,” the young man pressed with a smile. “Not that Orre has any actual Gyms… oh, excuse me! Where are my manners? I’m Justy, and I run this place. Are you interested in a battle…?”

The uncomfortable memory of her last battle jumped past May’s eyes. “Er… maybe,” she answered, hoping her stomach’s aching wasn’t discernable in her voice. “I was just curious about this place…”

Justy’s smile remained undeterred. “You’re not imposing or anything! You took the effort to poke your head in, so why not? After all, battling is a good way to learn about one another!”

His insistent enthusiasm was a disconcerting similarity to Ash and Brendan. May rubbed her forehead in attempt to dispel the twinge of pain that had surfaced. Part of her did want to accept the challenge, to vent her frustrations; the other half looked to withdraw and shut herself away.

“I request your pardon,” said Looker after sparing a glance at May. “But I am thinking that your challenge shall have to be postponed —”

“I accept.” May interjected.

Justy beamed and motioned for May to follow him up to the arena. Looker stared at her with wide eyes and raised eyebrows, which only fueled her irritation.

“I don’t need you speaking for me,” she grunted, and stomped onto the battlefield without waiting for a response. She was old enough to do as she pleased, thank you very much, frustrations and anxiety be damned. What did Looker know, anyways? He didn’t seem to use — or own, for that matter — any Pokémon himself…

“We prefer Double Battles here in Orre,” Justy told May from across the battlefield. “Is that alright with you?”

May almost shrugged but decided it was politer to nod. Justy returned the gesture and revealed his Pokémon first: a spiny Sandslash and a prickly Cacnea. After brief deliberation, May sent out Blaziken and Venusaur. It might have appeared like overkill, but she wasn’t going to lose another match if she could help it.

Blaziken rushed towards Sandslash, which fired off an array of star-shaped projectiles in response. Blaziken swerved away into Cacnea, countering the Cactus Pokémon’s attempted Needle Arm with Fire Punch. The dodged Swift attack flew towards Venusaur: a powerful stream of Razor Leaf nullified the attack. May expected the Grass move to hit Sandslash, but it had burrowed under the arena.

Cacnea tumbled along the ground from Blaziken’s punch before righting itself. It took aim at its attacker, launching small seeds from its arm. May recognized the Leech Seed and had Blaziken leap away. Unfortunately, Sandslash chose that moment to spring out and collide into Blaziken, its spines digging into the Blaze Pokémon’s back. Venusaur quickly ensnared its partner with vines, yanking it away to safety.

“You’ve got some good Pokémon there!” complimented Justy. “Looks like we can’t let our guard down!”

May allowed herself a small smile. She might not accept praise towards herself now, but commendation towards her Pokémon was certainly welcome. Emerging victorious from this battle (as non-threatening as it was) would do wonders for her self-esteem. Though something about Justy’s Pokémon choices made her suspicious: she had a nagging feeling that they shared some sort of attribute that would be troublesome.

She was, to her displeasure, correct. Sandslash whipped up a sandstorm, obstructing itself and Cacnea from view. May swore under her breath: Tyranitar had given her enough trouble with this strategy. It certainly wasn’t much easier now, given both Sandslash and Cacnea had an Ability called Sand Veil, increasing their evasiveness during a sandstorm.

For a moment May berated herself for not having Skitty on hand. A Blizzard attack might have the power to disperse the swirling sand… not that Skitty would have any better luck against Tyranitar as Wartortle did. If Justy’s Pokémon attacked up-close, she could play the advantage of her Pokémon’s superior power by retaliating at the right moment.

Unless Justy played it cautiously and kept his distance, which he seemed to be doing. Blaziken and Venusaur backed into each other, wary of when and where their opponents would appear. Venusaur’s petals fluttered in the sand, and an idea came to her. She wouldn’t pull it off just yet: she’d save it for the climax.

Sandslash erupted from the ground underneath Blaziken, knocking it back. Sandslash raised its claws, which glinted in the Pre Gym’s florescent lighting. Blaziken recovered quickly to interrupt the Crush Claw with Flamethrower, utilizing Venusaur’s bulk to brace against the attack’s thrust. The Seed Pokémon, meanwhile, battered away Cacnea’s Pin Missile with a flurry of vine tethers.

May’s temper suddenly flared without explanation. The battle was only a few minutes in, yet the urge to demolish her opponent consumed her. Some part of her brain told her that a demonstration of overwhelming power would prove herself: not only to Justy but to Looker and Smidge as well. She had entered two Grand Festivals after all, so her skills and ability weren’t to be mocked.

Patience, May told herself. Patience… I know my plan will work… Perhaps overconfidence had gotten the better of her yesterday. Being self-assured was fine, but a swollen head prevented clear thinking. With that in mind, she thought hard and added some contingencies to her plan, just in case.

Sandslash and Cacnea retreated into the billowing sand again. Justy’s vigilance was admirable, she thought, motioning for Blaziken to crouch behind Venusaur. He may have summoned the sandstorm, but she could take advantage of it, too. “Go for it, Venusaur.”

Venusaur lazily swayed to and fro, a sweet, mellow scent emanating from its massive flower. Visible as a thin, pink mist, the aroma merged with the sandstorm and drifted throughout the arena. Infatuated with the intoxicating odor, Sandslash and Cacnea re-emerged from their cover.

Quick as a flash, Venusaur ensnared them both with Vine Whip. The opposing Pokémon barely struggled: the Sweet Scent commanded all of their attention. At May’s signal, Blaziken leapt up, its leg alight in flames. Venusaur held their foes close together, allowing Blaziken to descend and clobber both with twin Blaze Kicks. Cacnea succumbed instantly, so Venusaur released it unceremoniously onto the floor. Sandslash still had a bit of HP left, though that was rectified with Venusaur tossing it against the closest wall.

“Holy cow!” said Justy amidst nervous laughter. The sandstorm dissolved into nothingness, the battle having ended. “You’re a clever one!”

May suppressed a smile. “I apologize,” she said, unconsciously rubbing her upper arm. “I think we were too aggressive there.”

“It’s alright.” Justy recalled his Pokémon. “I had a lot of fun, and I’d be ashamed if you were holding back on me!”

His cheerfulness remained marginally unnerving. “Thanks,” she mumbled. She returned Blaziken and Venusaur to their Poké Balls before stepping out of the arena, taking care not to meet Justy’s beaming expression. Looker was still frowning at her, which she ignored. Her current mood aside, the battle helped lift her confidence as predicted. Practice made perfect, as people said… the prospect of losing against Abyss again wasn’t appealing, but she shouldn’t be so hard on herself… everyone loses battles sometimes…

May finally looked towards Justy. “Thanks for the battle. Sorry if I seem distant, I’ve had a lot going on…”

Justy didn’t have a chance to respond: the Pre Gym doors slammed open without warning. Everyone whipped around as Manya came running in.

“Here you are!” she gasped. Her eyes were wide, and her hand shook as she steadied herself against May’s shoulder. “Geez, couldn’t have… left a note…”

“What’s going on?” May asked sharply. Something about Manya’s tone got her heart pounding furiously, and she braced herself as best she could for what was coming.

“Trest… the Mayor just got a phone call…” Manya told her. She must’ve ran all the way over here: aside from her voice breaking, her face was flushed and covered in sweat. “Lily… the HQ Lab…”

“What?” urged May. “What happened?”

Manya took a deep breath and raised her head. Amethyst stared into sapphire, and everything froze as Manya continued: “Abyss. They… they’re attacking the HQ Lab.”

To be continued...

#pokemon #may #fanfiction #operation cloudburst #codyscommandpost

[redorblue]

The ministry of utmost happiness, by Arundhati Roy

I’ve talked about this book with my book club, and I’ve heard from a lot of people that this book is hard to get into. On the one hand, I understand - if you’re not familiar with the setting and the Urdu vocabulary (like me) it can get confusing, and the amount of names and places and people doesn’t help. But as I’ve been emphatically telling all those people: it is so, so worth it. Yes, it can feel overwhelming sometimes, but you’ll be rewarded with stories (intentional plural) that are as beautiful as they’re heartbreaking, with characters that feel alive and enigmatic at the same time, and (probably) with a whole new picture of modern day India. You obviously can’t expect to learn everything there is to know about a country and a people as big as that from one book - and a fictional one at that - but it provided me with a whole lot of starting points to do my own research. Plus, it’s one of those rare books that leave me with wide eyes and more emotions than my shriveled heart can deal with, so excuse my enthusiasm - both intellectual and emotional.

One of the complaints I’ve heard about this book from people who have actually made it through the first ten pages is that the narrative structure is confusing. Again, yes, I see your point, but I think there’s a reason why the story is so episodic, with narrators appearing out of the blue and mentioning people and events that only get explained much later. Somewhere towards the end of the book (in my paperback version it’s on page 436) Tilo writes a poem that in my opinion is the key to understanding the fractured nature of the book:

“How to tell a shattered story? By slowly becoming everybody. No. By slowly becoming everything.”

The book isn’t coherent in the conventional, easily detectable sense of the word because the story isn’t. It can’t be, what with all the different conflicts and catastrophes and bigotry that it sometimes barely touches upon and sometimes elaborates a bit more. In fiction, we’re used to the characters having smaller social circles than we do: less family, less friends, rarely colleagues, barely any of the everyday acquaintances that most of us just have, without knowing where exactly they came from or any intention of deepening them. One of the three focal characters in this book is a bit like that (although that’s intentional and meant to make a point about her personality), but the other two, to whom belong the most confusing parts of the book have the huge social circle that comes with living in one place for a long time, especially when one of them has a rather colorful personality. Point is, it’s normal that seen from the outside, people’s lives aren’t coherent or easily understandable because they’re suffused with context that doesn’t always get an explanation when it’s handy because sometimes there isn’t one, or it leads to another story that leads to another that leads to yet another... Because in the end, no one is an island, we’re just not used to seeing it in fiction.

The same goes for the conflicts that are touched upon here. There’s rarely an easy explanation or black-and-white sides to be taken (which is not to say that the book doesn’t take sides, because it clearly does, but it shines a light on different views on an issue), and if real-life conflicts don’t work that way, why should a literary representation of one be any different? If you give it enough time to affect enough people, it automatically becomes a “shattered story”, and the only way to make any sense of it at all is by allowing the narrative to adapt to that - to become fractured and messy and told from the eyes of people who come with their own lifestory and everything that entails. Long story short, I think the structure of the book makes a necessary point about the story it tells, adds to its lifelikeness and doesn’t even need to be that confusing - you just have to let it unfold in front of your eyes without getting hung up on every single name you don’t recognize.

Another complaint I’ve heard is that the characters are not relatable, or that they don’t feel like fully developed human beings, and here’s where my sympathy stops. It’s true that there’s rarely any interior monologue or other kind of explanation that explicitly tells you why has done this or said that, but I don’t think it needs to. Through pretty neutral accounts of events and backstory it gives you enough clues to at least make educated guesses (otherwise known as interpretation) about a character’s choices, and to deduct important tenets of their personality. It might not be as satisfying sometimes because you never get the ultimate proof that you guessed right, but where’s the fun in having it all served to you on a silver platter? I think that’s exactly the reason why so many people don’t like main characters - you’re too deep inside their heads, too aware of their logical flaws and mental loops and repetitive insecurities. It’s much more fun if the author leaves a bit of space for the readers to fill in thought processes, and Arundhati Roy leaves a lot of space for that. There’s a lot to unpack here, and I’d love to write about so many of the characters in there, but this has already gotten longer than I thought, so I’ll only talk about my two favourites, Musa and Tilo.

I feel like I have a better grasp on Musa’s character (and also, I fell for him. Hard.), so I’ll start with him. On the surface, his life appears to be nothing but a  string of tragedies, with him as a simple vehicle that the author uses to tell us about how fucked up the situation in Kashmir is. After all, he was pretty much forced into the underground after Amrik Singh made him his newest source of entertainment, and “underground” in this context means that he’ll have to join the rebellion. But I think that is a very superficial view on his character. For me, the two defining aspects of his personality are his sense of justice and his bond to the people and the valley of Kashmir. Sure, he could have fled to some faraway place in India, or elsewhere, kept his head down and hoped that Amrik Singh’s network doesn’t stretch that far. That wouldn’t have been easy, but theoretically doable. In reality, however, going someplace else wasn’t really an option. He’s tried that already with studying in Delhi, and even though he obviously knew how bad the situation was back home, he still chose to return after he graduated because he doesn’t want to live anywhere else. He loves Kashmir and his people with all his heart. So the underground it is - because he can’t bear the injustices done to them, because he owes it to his daughter to be brave, because he can’t run away from his grief and this might be the only way to work through it.

And it takes a toll on him, of course it does. It’s heartbreaking how both he and Tilo remark on how he has become less substantial (smudged, as Tilo calls it) than he used to be, which is such an on-point metaphor for what being in a war (and a pretty hopeless guerilla war at that) does to a person. But in his thought processes and his interactions with Tilo (and briefly with Garson Hobart - I can’t remember his real name for the life of me) show that he’s - maybe not the same person as before, but a person, a complete human being, which is a lot more that what you usually get. I mean, let’s face it: he’s a Muslim in a rebel organisation, which is more than enough to get you labels such as terrorist, fanatic, extremist etc. I was a bit afraid that someone in my book club would call him that, because my reaction would have probably got me banned from the book shop. There are so many instances where you can see how kind a heart he has, how intelligent he is, how caring - and yes, also how much he suffers from seeing his people suffer and how he puts everything he has into make it right, but what’s important here is that it’s not his only defining feature.

(This is the point where I realised that this post was definitely going to be too long. So I split it, with more in-depth analysis of Musa - or rather getting my feelings for him off my chest - here.)

Tilo, on the other hand, is not as easy to grasp because she is presented to the reader as she presents herself to the world - stoic, not exactly talkative, very hard to reach. A lot of that has got to do with how she grew up, in an environment heavily influenced by racism, classism and prudery where her mother felt like the only way she could raise her daughter was to pretend they weren’t biologically related and then adopting her. I guess you could say that such an arrangement is better than growing up in an orphanage, and it could have been a lot less damaging if her mother wasn’t so very concerned about her public image, or so demanding, controlling and condescending. But she was, and the effect that had on Tilo is obvious - she’s someone who “lives in a country of her own skin”, the borders (seemingly) closed off. It’s not that she can’t care for people; it’s obvious that she’s loved Musa for a long time, and that she came to care deeply for Naga and Dr. Azad Bhartiya, even before she adopts Miss Jebeen the Second and moves in with Anjum. Rather, her issue seems to be that she has trouble accepting other people’s feelings towards her and getting attached to anyone. It’s why, for example, her marriage to Naga didn’t work (who, on a sidenote, really got treated unfairly in Garson Hobart’s POV), why she didn’t want to go through with the pregnancy when she came back from Kashmir, or why she didn’t even break things off properly with Naga and just... floated out of his life. To be fair, his family’s racism towards her didn’t help either because I’m pretty sure it stung her more than she let on, but her behaviour fits her overall pattern in interacting with people, so I don’t think that was the main issue.

It’s probably also why her post-university relationship with Musa works so well. They’re both aren’t controlling people, they trust that the other would never hurt them intentionally and they know that their communication works well enough that long-time separation doesn’t shake the foundations of their relationship. It’s a very unique bond they share, one that doesn’t go away from one of them marrying someone else and sleeping with them, even loving them, as Musa did with his wive Arifa. They know what they have, wherever they live and whatever they do. That’s another aspect I loved about the book: it never pits the two women in Musa’s life, Arifa and Tilo, against each other. Not even Tilo is jealous when she learns of Arifa’s existence, she simply trusts that if Musa loved Arifa, Arifa must have been a remarkable person. This is a testament to Tilo’s magnanimity - just because you have attachment issues yourself doesn’t mean that you’d automatically be okay with the person you love starting a family with someone else.

But Tilo knows that she’s not that person (at least not at that point), and although she worries a lot about Musa, she knows that a conventional happily ever after wouldn’t work for them. On the one hand because Musa is so tied up in Kashmir’s struggle for independence - which Tilo wholeheartedly supports - that she would never ask him to give it all up to live a life of safety with her (another thing about Tilo I deeply appreciate). But on the other hand I’m pretty sure it also wouldn’t work for Tilo herself. She’s too aimless, too far away to go through with the whole getting married, settling down, having kids etc. shtick. She needs this kind of open relationship that leaves her her space, that gives her a kind of attachment she can bear. It’s mainly emotional, and the few times a year it gets physical, as in being in the same room, it happens mostly because she decided to come back to Kashmir, with the exception of the few times Musa comes to Delhi. I do think that from her side, things might have been different if Musa had lived longer (after Tilo adopts the baby and moves in with Anjum), but on his side things would still have been the same, and I firmly believe that she’d have stayed true to herself and not asked him to walk away from his cause for her.

Which leads me to the question that has made me reread almost the entire book as soon as I was done the first time: Why did Tilo and Musa break up after university? It’s never said explicitly, but I’m pretty sure that he asked her to marry him, in all probability also to come back to Kashmir with him, and she said no and that was that. I still haven’t found an answer in the text (see, this is what I mean by interpretation being both fun and frustrating), but I have a theory. I think that his belonging, his rootedness in a family, a people and a region, was too much for her, who has never been made to feel like she belonged anywhere, was accepted and appreciated anywhere. In that situation, it wasn’t enough that she loved him and he loved and accepted and appreciated her, because in real life, the love of one man doesn’t magically fix every single one of your issues, even if it is the love of your life. So she refused him. And he, honorable person that he is, didn’t press the issue, stayed true to himself and went back to Kashmir. Where they met again years later, under unimaginably sad circumstances, to rekindle, in their own way, one of my all time favourite fictional romantic relationships.

#the ministry of utmost happiness #arundhati roy #book review #2019 #books

[dorks6]

Hi! I don’t have much friends into Day6 or kpop as a whole so I went and found a stranger who’s a myday😂to ask for some help. I’m thinking about doing a fanfiction on wattpad for either YoungK or Dowoon and I have no idea what kpop idol do I want for the female lead, idk who would make a good pair with them and I don’t know if I should include instruments?

Hi, sweet anon! Can I call you fic anon, in case you feel like coming back for further conversation? I should go to bed, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while, so here we go.

First of all, I don’t know how you picked me out of all blogs, but I feel like you accidentally chose one of the worst people to come to! Both because I am new to kpop and do not know many idols, which is part of your inquiry, and for the way I view fanfics. But since you did come to me, I will respond honestly.

***Disclaimer: everything beneath is my OPINION. I do not proclaim it to be universal truth.***

I love fanfiction. I fully endorse writing and reading it - I’ve read some of most magical writing I’ve encountered in fanfictions and I, myself, have grown a lot through writing it. However, it can also be tricky and real people fanfiction, double so, in my opinion.

Mostly because you have to get them right in many small and more significant ways for it to qualify as fanfiction, not just your original work with your OCs that have faceclaims. Which, by the way, is also completely fine. And I would encourage anyone go out and write that. Even if the OCs are inspired by someone in particular. But it’s not fanfic entirely.

Now, there are many ways to go about embedding reflection of a real person in a fanfic. Both through plot points and references in passing. Mention things that are widely known as them, though be critical if it is not just fandom’s outlook of them, instead of actual truth (e.g. Sungjin being anti-touching). For example, if you were to write Dowoon as a kindergarden or elementary school teacher, you could make reader feel it’s really Dowoon with things like:

The kids love him because of his accent and slightly muffled/mumbling speech

Has cooky humor sense, like it’s somehow almost too much and so frank, but absolutely lovable??

He decides he should learn to sing to sing to his students (female lead can be the teacher!)

Could also be to encourage an insecure child partake in some singing/festival activities, especially if they have some issues with speech as well

Will accept compliments seemingly confidently (as seen on ASC), but actually be pretty damn flustered

Ears getting red!!

Enjoys gaming in his free time

Hates mosquitos

Food, color favorites referenced, if known

Sometimes there are exceptions to these rules, for example Anti is pretty much character Jack plays and you can go much wilder there, filling gaps as you please, especially based on all the empty space left by ‘canon’. But with kpop, this doesn’t seem like a very real possibility, unless you write about a role they assumed in MV.

Now, the moment shipping comes in play, it becomes even more complicated. In particular, if you write 2 actual people in. You have to know them both well enough to portray them convincingly and in way that’s fair and also make their interactions. Now, in actual fiction fanfiction this is easier, because we often have approximate same amount information or both or can easily fill gaps with imagination, without it being speculations about actual person. And the fact you don’t even know who could be good fit makes it even more difficult - you’d, IMO, have to do bunch of thinking and looking around. Or you could very well toss some of these limitations out and use an OC!

Now, as for the setting, I think this is where you can go as ham as you want!! As long as you get characteristics down and can portray them in the setting, write whatever you want! And you can pick so much as inspiration! For example, Wonpil wanted to be lawyer as a child! Imagine that - he’d either be the Coolest, Most Suave Looking Lawyer you’ve encountered (think Youth Pt. 2 promo shots except reasonable suit), who turns out to be big goofball when you get to know him, or you actually first meet him as one and think he cannot be competent, but he somehow actually is and Looks That Good in a Suit. Just as an example that is far from polished.

Again, returning to the idea about female leads, I do not know enough female idols at all as people, exception being more knowledgeable with Lee Hyori, who is happily married and 13 years older than even Jae. So I am incapable of helping you on this front, I am sorry.

And on finishing touch, again, I think this is my opinion. And honestly, fan fic is for having fun! So you can write what you want! Just, personally, I think that if it is about real people, you should tread a little more thoughtfully, especially since people have tendency to bother idols/actual people with such content. Which is another reason I do not like thought of Two Idol Fanfic, because you’re encouraging kind of gossipy, speculating thing. Would you enjoy if someone wrote fanfic, or even porn, about you and random person from your school or work you’ve met only in passing? Perhaps that is personal preference, but I for sure would absolutely hate that.

#rainy rambles #rainy opinion #writing #fanfiction #I wonder if I should tag it with those because I don't really want to call any reaction to it tbh #but anyway I'm tired so I'm tagging I guess #fic anon #tbh I think that dowoon scenario is cute #Anonymous #sent on a cloud

[joking-mr-feynman]

A Fiction Writer’s Guide to English

Tips, tricks, and complaints on how to make your story sound a lot better

By a five-year-old someone not qualified to talk about writing

Disclaimer: By no means am I a writer, a linguist, or an expert on any of the subjects discussed below. However, I do read a lot (a lot), published and unpublished works alike, and this post is made to address certain syntactical, structural, grammatical, aesthetic, and linguistic issues that irk me whenever I come across them. The following is my personal opinion (albeit a well-researched one), and if I've said something horribly wrong, by all means tell me and I shall fix it post-haste. Probably.

Again, this is by no means fully comprehensive, and I doubt it is fully accurate, but from what I've read, this list could do a lot, with a few simple tips, to ameliorate fiction and fanfiction stories a thousand-fold; because, to be honest, a spelling mistake or a grammatical error is one thing that will infallibly take me out of a story and will get me to look at it with a much more critical eye. 

Note: the grammar and punctuation rules below (mostly) follow the American set of rules as standard, since I am American, and most fanfiction stories use this standard as well.

I will probably, once the initial post is out there, come and update it when I come across something that would be a helpful addition; feel free also to shoot me a message or an ask if you have a question or need clarification on anything.

These tips are ordered in no specific way whatsoever, and credit goes to all the original creators of the images and posts I reference herein.

Use the passive voice wisely. You'll hear a lot of English Teachers tell you that the passive voice is bad bad bad, and should never ever ever be used. This is not the case. While one should shy away from using it too frequently, there are some cases where the passive voice is acceptable, and even preferable. As a reminder, the passive voice is when the subject of the clause receives the action:        "The ball was kicked." Use the passive voice sparingly; it is best used when "the thing receiving an action is the important part of the the sentence—especially in scientific and legal contexts, times when the performer of an action is unknown, or cases where the subject is distracting or irrelevant". (For more info, go here.

Pay attention to the setting and the time period of your story. While this may seem self-explanatory, I have seen far too many stories where everything is going perfectly until the student who is supposed to be in a London primary school asks his "Mom" to help him with his "math" homework. (The correct words are, of course, "Mum" and "maths”.) Similarly, a gentleman living in 1880's New York will not greet his friends with "Yo, what's up, man? You good? Cool." (Yes, that is an actual line I have actually read.) I know that this can be hard, especially for authors who don't live in the country their story is set in, but a little bit of research goes a long way in making your story sound better. (This doesn't apply to writers who use anachronisms and the wrong words purposefully, for humor or otherwise).

Accents and dialects. When you want a person to speak in a certain accent or dialect, research that accent or dialect a bit to understand the most prevalent words and grammatical form, and use them in your dialogue, and, if in first person, your narration as well. You can also think about adding certain regionally-specific words, spellings and grammatical structures. If imitating a work written in that region, definitely watch the spellings and alternative words, and incorporate them in both your dialogue and your narration. ( “mom” vs. “mum”, “math” vs. “maths”, “color” vs. “colour”, etc.).    e.g., in England:         I was sitting there, laughing --> I was sat there laughing.         curb (street), jail, tires, tv --> kerb, gaol (sometimes), tyres, telly, etc. 

Beware punctuation with dialogue. Use commas. (NEVER EVER EVER CLOSE A DIALOGUE QUOTATION WITHOUT SOME FORM OF PUNCTUATION! There must ALWAYS be either a period, a comma, a question mark or an exclamation point, or an em-dash before the quotation marks close.) The following image perfectly illustrates the proper ways of punctuating dialogue: WARNING: Use em-dashes instead of en-dashes for interruptions. See below. 

Dashes vs. hyphens "-":  hyphen, used to separate parts of compound words and last names. (e.g. five-year-old; pick-me-up; short- and long-term; Lily Evans-Potter) "–":  en-dash (because it has the width of an "N"), used in number and date ranges, scores, directions, and complex compound adjectives. (e.g., he works 20–30 hours per week; the years 1861–1865 were eventful; FC Barcelona beat Real Madrid 3–2; Ming Dynasty–style furniture is expensive) (Note: when you use "from" before a range of numbers, separate the numbers with "to" instead of an en-dash.) "—": em-dash ("M"), can be used instead of parentheses, commas, colons, or for interruptions in dialogue, thought, or narration. (e.g., I know I'm right, and you're — stop throwing things at me!) (For more info, go here.)

Vary sentence lengths. When your sentences are all the same length and all the same complexity, your story starts to sound monotonous. Experiment with length, clauses, commas and semicolons, etc.: “This sentence has five words. Here are five more words. Five-word sentences are fine. But several together become monotonous. Listen to what is happening. The writing is getting boring. The sound of it drones. It’s like a stuck record. The ear demands some variety. Now listen. I vary the sentence length, and I create music. Music. The writing sings. It has a pleasant rhythm, a lilt, a harmony. I use short sentences. And I use sentences of medium length. And sometimes, when I am certain the reader is rested, I will engage him with a sentence of considerable length, a sentence that burns with energy and builds with all the impetus of a crescendo, the roll of the drums, the crash of the cymbals—sounds that say listen to this, it is important.” — Gary Provost For more on sentence and paragraph structure, see thewritersguardianangel’s post.

Don't be afraid of contractions. Contractions are common in everyday speech and in everyday writing. Use these, especially in dialogue, since contractions will be used almost all the time, unless the character is older, teaching, or speaking intentionally formally. (A college student is not going to tell his friend "You have got to do this homework assignment, or you will fail the class, and the teacher has caught on to you. He will not be lenient." It'll look more like "You've got to do this homework assignment, or you'll fail the class, and the teacher's caught on to you. He won’t be lenient.")

Avoid overly verbose and complex wording, especially in dialogue. Don't use words that are very grandiose and complicated, especially in dialogue with younger people. A teen might use "merely" once or twice, especially in more formal speech, but will very probably use "just" instead. It makes dialogue more realistic too; real conversations don't often have very hypotaxical, full-of-dependent-and-subordinate-clauses language.

Use italics. Italics are, fortunately, available in all softwares and formatting when writing a story, so one mustn't shy away from using them. They provide a very good way to indicate emphasis, as well as to show anger or frustration without the use of capitals, which just make sentences sound like a petulant child throwing a tantrum. Compare "'I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU!' I yelled." and "'I can't believe you,' I hissed." Much more effective, no? (A good rule of thumb is: italics for everything except someone blowing their top. Think the end of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.)

Narrative Perspective. Unless using third person omniscient, stick to one narrative point of view for one section of text, and don't change the perspective style in the story. Don't start in third person close (like Harry Potter) and end in first person (like Percy Jackson). A note about third person close: you can change whose perspective the story is told in throughout the story, but separate those perspective changes, either via a new chapter or a scene break ("******"). Perspectives: First Person: usually singular, occurs when the narrator is telling the story. (Moby Dick, Percy Jackson). Can sometimes be plural (A Rose for Emily). Third Person Close/Limited: the narrator is separate from the main character but sticks close to that character’s experience and actions. The reader doesn’t know anything that the character could not know, nor does the reader get to witness any plot events when the main character isn’t there (Harry Potter). Third Person Omniscient: features a god-like narrator who is able to enter into the minds and action of all the characters (Little Women, The Scarlet Letter).

Use the subjunctive for conditionals and hypotheticals. This might be a bit of a controversial topic, so i'll make this optional, but strongly recommended. The subjunctive mood is what characterizes verbs in conditional and hypothetical situations, so wishes, dreams, hopes, predictions, etc. One should be wary of it in dialogue, though, because it isn't widely used. Use it freely in narration. Usually comes after if or that (e.g., I insist that he leaves leave now; If I was were there, I would be happy.)

Write out numbers. Don't use digits, use words. The man doesn't have 200 dollars, he has two hundred.

The verb "said". Unlike many who tell you never again to use the word "said" when constructing dialogue, I won't. "Said" is a good word, and should be used, but not over-used; find synonyms when it starts to get repetitive, and you can also use it with different adjectives to spice it up. Sometimes you don't need a dialogue tag at all. However, don't try to come up with a different synonym for "said" for every dialogue tag, since it just sounds excessively wordy and extremely trite.  A mistake a lot of writers make is the above, which is to replace every single instance of the word "said" with some outlandish synonym. Also, be wary not to replace a dialogue tag with an action verb (which can also lead to a comma splice) (e.g., "I can't believe you," Mike raged, "you're such an idiot!" vs. "I can't believe you!" Mike growled. "You're such an idiot!")

Connect independent clauses correctly. Independent clauses are sentence fragments which have a subject and a verb, and can stand alone as sentences. If one wants to join them into one sentence, however, there are three ways of doing so: One can use a semicolon (as discussed in the punctuation section below), or one can use a comma + coordinating conjunction. A coordinating conjunction is a word that can, after a comma, join two independent clauses, and they are FANBOYS (For, And, Nor, But, Yet, So). (e.g., Alex went to swim in the pool, but Max couldn’t come.) The last way one can connect two independent clauses is with a conjunctive adverb. Conjunctive adverbs look like coordinating conjunctions; however, they are not as strong and they are punctuated differently. Some examples of conjunctive adverbs are: accordingly, also, besides, consequently, finally, however, indeed, instead, likewise, meanwhile, moreover, nevertheless, next, otherwise, still, therefore, then, etc. When you use a conjunctive adverb, put a semicolon (;) before it and a comma (,) after it. They can also be used in a single main clause, and a comma (,) is used to separate the conjunctive adverb from the sentence. (e.g., There are many history books; however, none of them may be accurate.; I woke up very late this morning. Nevertheless, I wasn’t late to school.) These words can be placed pretty much anywhere in the second clause after the semicolon as long as they’re separated by commas on either side (e.g., Mark was happy to have finished his essay; his dog ate it, however, before he could hand it in.)

Punctuation, Punctuation, Punctuation. Watch your punctuation closely, because it can make or break your story. Dialogue punctuation has already been discussed above, but that is for formatting quotations, not for narration and the content of the quotations themselves.

Every sentence or sentence fragment, even it it’s a single word, MUST end with either a period ("."), a question mark ("?"), or an exclamation point ("!"). It can also end with an em-dash ("—") if and only if the thought or sentence is interrupted.

Commas are for separating sentences into more manageable chunks, to separate dependent clauses, and independent clauses with coordinating conjunctions (see below), and to mark off lists. (e.g., I wanted to talk to her, but she had to go shopping for milk, eggs, bread, and cheese.)

Use the Oxford comma. For those who don't know, the Oxford comma is the last comma in a list of things, just before the last item, usually before an "and" (e.g., milk, eggs, and cheese). It helps reduce a lot of confusion, and, while this is a topic that can be controversial, use it to be safe, and to avoid sentences like this: I dedicate this to my parents, my editor and Random House Publishing.

Beware the comma splice. Never ever ever separate two independent clauses (i.e., full sentences with subject, verb, and object) with just a comma. Use a period, a semicolon, or a coordinating conjunction instead. (e.g., A comma splice walks into a bar, it has a drink and then leaves. (for this example, make the comma a period or a semicolon, or eliminate "it" from the sentence.))

Colons (":") are for denoting lists and setting up quoted text (not dialogue. Use commas for that.) (e.g., What I need is this: eggs, flour, and milk.; In Moby Dick, the main character, in the beginning of the book, says: "Call me Ishmael.")

Semicolons (";") are for separating two independent but related clauses, as discussed in the comma splice section above.

Tenses and tense agreements. This is a big one. When writing a story, choose a tense for your narration and stick with it throughout. If you start in the past, as a lot of fiction does, stay in the past until the end. Also, make sure all the tenses in your narration agree with the main tense of your story. (For flashbacks, one of two ways are possible: a blocked off section in italics, with the same tense as the main story, or within the narration, in the tense past the tense of the story (i.e. has -> had; had -> had had)) If events A, B, C happen in order, and we take B to be the "present" in the story (i.e. when the events are unfolding):

Present: B is happening. C will happen. A happened. (I walk down the aisle, happy. Hopefully nothing bad will happen. I wasn't able to cope when the incident last year happened.)

Past: B happened. C would happen. A had happened. (I walked down the aisle, happy. Hopefully nothing bad would happen. I hadn't been able to cope when the incident last year had happened.)

Give your story to someone who hasn’t read it yet. Writing and editing a story is a very comprehensive process, and both you and your beta reader will probably have read it so much that your and their eyes will be jaded and will slide over mistakes. A fresh pair of eves will always be beneficial in sussing out mistakes, typos, plot holes, and the like.

Watch for homophones, misspellings and incorrect word usage. This is the one that is most obvious, and the one that the most people catch and the most people hate. For this reason I will list the most common errors I have seen in hopes of helping those lost souls find they’re way. (See what I did their?) I’ll put in a break to not make this post any longer than it already is: 

Index: v. = verb; n. = noun; adj. = adjective; prep. = preposition; adv. adverb; conj. = conjunction.

There vs. their vs. they’re There = In, at, or to that place or position (Look over there! Who’s in there?) Their = third person plural possessive pronoun (my, your, his, our, their) (This is their car, that one is mine.) They’re = contraction for they are (They’re window shopping.) ex: If you look over there, you can see the Simpsons. They’re looking for their car.

Your vs. you’re Your = second person possessive pronoun (This is your card, that one’s mine.) You’re = contraction of you are (Stop shouting! You’re so loud!) You’re insufferable when you get your report card back.

Too vs. to Too = adverb: to a higher degree than is desirable, permissible, or possible; in addition, also (It's too hot in here; You love the Beatles? I love them too!) To = (prep): expressing motion in the direction of; identifying the person or thing affected; concerning or likely to concern something; identifying a particular relationship between one person and another (walking down to the mall; he was very nice to me; a threat to world peace; he's married to that woman over there) (infinitive marker): used with the base form of a verb to indicate that the verb is in the infinitive, in particular. (He was left to die.)

-'s vs. -s  vs. -s' (and similar apostrophic conundrums) -'s = a contraction for is, has, or us; possessive indicator for nouns. (it's = it is; let's = let us; he's = he is; a car's = of a car; she’s done it = she has done it); NEVER A PLURAL -s = indicator for plural nouns; with it, a possessive indicator. (phones = more than one phone; cars = more than one car; its = of it, owned by it) -s' = indicator of possessive plural nouns, and possessive for words ending in -s. (cars' = of multiple cars; Iris' = of Iris) Come on, let's go, he's not gonna come anytime soon. Iris' car's broken down, and the car's tires' air pressure is almost zero, and its exhaust pipe is clogged. The towing company workers are going to come soon. 

Were vs. we're Were = plural past tense of "to be"; subjunctive of "to be" (We were really happy; If I were rich, I would do this.) We're = Contraction of "we are" (We're going out tonight!) If I were you, I would have made your announcement when we were all together. Now we're all doing our own thing.

Who’s vs. whose Who's =  contraction of who is (Who's doing this?) Whose = belonging to or associated with which person (Whose pen is this?) Who's drawing on the board? Can you tell whose handwriting that is?

Who vs. whom Who = what or which person or people, the subject of a verb; used to introduce a clause giving further information (Who ate my apple?; Jack, who was my best friend) Whom = what or which person or people, the object of a verb (By whom was my apple eaten?) Who left this jacket here? To whom does it belong?

X and I vs. X and me X and I = (= we) used when both subjects are the subject of the verb. (Mike and I went to the mall.) X and me = (= us) used when both subjects are the objects of the verb. (My father took Mike and me to the shop.) A good way of figuring out which one to use is to get rid of the second person altogether, and see which pronoun you would use in that case: Mike and I went to the shop –> I went to the shop; He took Mike and me to the shop –> He took me to the shop.

Wary vs. weary Wary = (adj.) feeling or showing caution about possible dangers or problems. (Be wary of strangers.) Weary = (adj.) feeling or showing tiredness, especially as a result of excessive exertion or lack of sleep; reluctant to see any more of; (v.): to cause to become tired (He looked at me with weary, sleepless eyes.) His long day’s march had made him weary, but, wary of possible dangers, he made himself stay awake and keep watch.

Affect vs. effect (for our purposes, excluding obscure definitions) Affect = (v.) to have an effect on; to bring a difference to (The US foreign policy greatly affected European trade.) Effect  = (n.) a change that is a result or consequence of an action or other cause (The US policy's effect on European trade was largely detrimental.) Judaism's effect on Christianity largely affected the New Testament.

Could of, would of, should of THESE ARE NOT WORDS. They sound like real ones, but they're not.  The correct forms are: could have, would have, should have. (You can also contract them to could've, would've, should've.)

Lose vs. loose Lose = verb; to be deprived of or cease to have; to become unable to find something; to lose a game (I always lose my keys; If we don’t score soon, we’ll lose; I can’t keep losing people) Loose = adjective; not firmly or tightly fixed in place; detached or able to be detached (These pants are too loose; Let loose! You're too strung-up!) Loose shirts and pants are comfortable, but don't wear them to interviews or you'll lose your reputation and respectability.

Except vs. accept Except = (prep.): not including; other than (everything except for my socks) (conj.): used before a statement that forms an exception to one just made (I didn't tell him anything, except that I needed the money). Accept = (v.) consent to receive; give an affirmative answer to; believe or come to recognize (an opinion) as correct (he accepted a pen as a present; he accepted their offer; her explanation was accepted by her friends.) He accepted every one of her excuses, except for her claim that her dog had eaten her homework.

Peak vs. peek (vs. peaked/peaky) Peak =  (n.): point or top of a mountain; point of highest activity; (v.): reach a highest point (He climbed to the peak of Mt. Everest; I peaked in sixth grade) peaked (US), peaky (UK)= (of a person) gaunt and pale from illness or fatigue. (You look a bit peaked/peaky. Are you ill?) Peek = look quickly, typically in a furtive manner; protrude slightly so as to be just visible (Faces peeked from behind the curtains; his socks were so full of holes his toes peeked through) Don't peek through the curtains!, he said, then climbed to the peak of a nearby hill.

Advice vs. advise Advice = noun: guidance or recommendations (e.g., He's in dire need of some relationship advice.) Advise = verb: offer suggestions about the best course of action to someone; to recommend; to inform. (I often advise my friends regarding their scholastic endeavors; I advise you to take this class; you will be advised of the requirements) Go, advise him about what to do for his relationship; he'll heed your advice.

Suit vs. suite Suit = (n.): outfit, set of clothes, men's outfit with jacket and pants (He's wearing a very nice suit.) (v.): be convenient for or acceptable to; act to one's own wishes; to go well with. (He lies when it suits him; suit yourself; that hat suits you.)    to follow suit = conform to another's actions. (James started eating and Lily followed suit.) Suite = a set of rooms designated for one person's or family's use or for a particular purpose; a set of instrumental compositions (I rented out the honeymoon suite; I love Gustav Holst's The Planets' Suite) The man, dressed in a sharp suit, stepped out of the honeymoon suite, and his newlywed wife followed suit.

Curb vs. curve Curb = (n.): a stone or concrete edging to a street or path (He parked his car on the curb) (v.): to restrain or keep in check (Curb your enthusiasm) Curve = noun: a line or outline that gradually deviates from being straight for some or all of its length; verb: to form or cause to form a curve (The parapet wall sweeps down in a bold curve; her mouth curved down) He parked his car on the curb, just where the road started to curve into the suburbs.

Ladder vs. latter vs. later Ladder = a structure consisting of a series of bars or steps between two upright lengths of wood, metal, or rope, used for climbing up or down something (He climbed the ladder.) Latter = situated or occurring nearer to the end of something than to the beginning; denoting the second or second mentioned of two people or things (The latter half of 1946; Arthur and Richard were friends, and the former died while the latter lived.) Later = comparative of late. (I was late, he was later.) Frank and Emma, while friends, had a falling-out; the former went into the ladder-making business, and, two years later, the latter moved to France. 

Lay vs. lie (re: the reclining or putting down definitions)

Break vs. brake Break = (v.): separate or cause to separate into pieces as a result of a blow; to interrupt (If you pull on the rope too much, it'll break.) (n.): an interruption; a pause from work (You're way too tired! Take a break!) Brake = (n., with equivalent verb) a device for slowing or stopping a moving vehicle. (If you want to stop your car, you have to press on the brakes.) Don't step on the brake so hard! You'll break both our necks!

Taught vs. taut Taught = past tense of "to teach" (I taught middle schoolers in Boston for three years.) Taut = (adj.) stretched or pulled tight, not slack; (of muscles) tense and not relaxed (The rope was pulled taut; all his muscles were taut and straining) In the fitness class my friend taught, he said that you shouldn't keep your muscles taut all the time.  

Through vs. threw Through = (prep.): moving in one side and out of the other side; continuing in time toward completion of; so as to inspect all or part of; by means of (a process or intermediate stage) Threw = (v.) past tense of "to throw" I threw the ball straight through the doorway.

Retch vs. wretch Retch = (n., v.) make the sound and movement of vomiting (When I saw the blood, I retched.) Wretch = (n.) an unfortunate or unhappy person; a despicable or contemptible person. (the wretches were imprisoned; ungrateful wretches) I almost retched at the thought of being nice to that ungrateful wretch.

Ring vs. wring Ring = 1. (n.) a circular band; a group of people or things arranged in a circle. (Her engagement ring was beautiful; the men stood in a ring.) 2. (v., associated n.) make a clear resonant or vibrating sound; (of a place) resound or reverberate with (a sound or sounds) (Church bells are ringing; the room rang with laughter) Wring = (v.) squeeze and twist (something); break by twisting it forcibly (I wring the cloth out into the sink; I wrung the animal's neck) If you don't stop that alarm from ringing, I'm gonna wring your neck!

Bear vs. bare Bear = 1. (v.) To carry; to support; to endure. (He was bearing a tray with a tea service on it; weight-bearing pillars; I can't bear it!) 2. (n.) a large, heavy, mammal that walks on the soles of its feet, with thick fur (Polar bear) Bare = (adj.) not clothed or covered; basic and simple (He was bare from the waist up; the bare essentials of a plan) Apparently, men can't bear to see women's bare shoulders.

Pose vs. poise Pose = 1. (v., w/ associated n.) assume a particular attitude or position in order to be photographed, painted, or drawn (She posed for the camera). 2. (v.) to present or constitute (a problem, danger, or difficulty); to raise (a question) (This storm is posing a threat to our summer plans; a statement that posed more questions than it answered) Poise = (n.) graceful and elegant bearing in a person. (Poise and good manners can be cultivated.) Poise is not just striking a haughty pose; it's about how you hold yourself.

Pore vs. pour Pore = 1. (n.) a minute opening in a surface (this opens up the pores in your skin) 2. (v.) be absorbed in the reading or study of (I spent hours poring over my physics textbook). Pour = (v.) (especially of a liquid) flow rapidly in a steady stream; to cause a liquid to do so (The water poured off the roof; I poured myself a glass of milk). As I was cleansing my pores with a face mask and poring over my favorite book, I accidentally spilled the water I had poured myself all over my pants.

Breech vs. breeches vs. breach Breech = the part of a cannon behind the bore. Breeches  = short trousers fastened just below the knee Breach = an act of breaking; failing to observe a law, agreement, or code of conduct, or the action of doing so (A breach of contract; the river breached its banks) (Come on, guys, no one wants to hear about an army trouser-ing the perimeter.)

Rend vs. render Rend = (v.) tear (something) into two or more pieces (teeth that would rend human flesh to shreds) — Note: the correct term is heartrending, since whatever does that rips the heart in two. Render = (v.) provide or give (a service, help, etc.); cause to be or become; represent or depict artistically (A reward for services rendered; the rain rendered my escape impossible; the eyes are exceptionally well rendered) The artist's rendering of the wolf's fangs, which would easily rend human flesh to shreds, was amazingly realistic.

Damnit It's either dammit or damn it. The "n" disappears if it merges into one word, but stays if it's two.

Conclusion: Look. Writing is hard. I know. Some of the above tips seem fairly obvious, and I know that mistakes, errors, and typos happen and go unnoticed. That being said, if you apply these tips regularly, and devote a bit more time to proofreading and editing, the quality of your story and the satisfaction of a lot of your readers will increase tremendously. Authors, I know writing is a thankless job, and many of you are sacrificing your own time to satisfy your followers and your readers; and for that, on behalf of your readers, and even on behalf of those that read and don’t leave reviews, thank you. Do not ever think that this post is meant to belittle you or your devotion to your craft; it is just a list of hopefully helpful suggestions that can help you and, with it, please those readers — like me — who are unfortunately too picky for their own good. And again, use these tips freely (I take credit only for putting them together), good luck, and know that you are universally loved for your efforts, past, continuing, stopped, or postponed. Thank you.

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