#its the realism of the whole thing that's gotten me. like trying to make the relationship actually redeemable. the makeup scene is good but

[paracosmicparadox]

So I finished FFXV ages ago, but I've been thinking about it lately bc you know, I elaborated the chocobros' story far further than it was meant to go and got way more attached to them than I should have. So here're some things that the game did really well and some of the things it didn't. (you don't have to agree w anything here; I'm not trying to corrupt y'all w my opinions; I just feel like talking)

Let's start with the bad to get it out of the way:

CINDY. I swear to everything holy her character had the potential to be So Cool if she hadn't been so overtly over-sexualized. Like, I'm a woman-liker too and I get it, lady mechanics are hot af, but you know what else is attractive? Safety in the workplace. Cindy's outfit was not something any mechanic would be caught dead wearing. Yeah, it was designed to be sexy, but do you know how many burns she would've accumulated from the hot oil and metal she works with? There's a reason mechanics typically wear clothing zipped up when they're actually working on something. If anything, Cindy's character design just made me uncomfortable. Her character itself? Great. No qualms there. Her design? Please acquire more than two square feet of fabric I'm begging you. I just feel like Cindy deserved to be so much more than fan service.

Luna's brief time on-screen. Yet another potentially incredible and deep female protagonist who got short change from this game. People joke a lot that Luna wasn't at all an important character because the game never really treated her like one. She was MEANT to be important, clearly, but it felt like she existed just for her tearjerking death scene? Like there was SO MUCH overlooked potential to bring her into the storyline as more than Tragic Love Interest In White, and yet?? Idk it frustrated me.

The emotional aspect of the game felt rushed. There were a lot of emotional scenes covered throughout the plotline ranging from King Regis's death to the deal with Prompto at Zegnautus Keep. I feel like the game TRIED to cover them realistically and show the characters' grief, but it didn't quite get there. It was just sort of an "Oh, how sad. I'm so upset and angry. Hm, what's that? My friends believe in me without truly understanding and I can kill someone to ease my pain? Oh okay I'm better now." I get that realistic healing cycles are kinda hard to portray within a set timeframe, but having some lingering effects of the blatant trauma inflicted would've been nice. You don't recover from shit like that in a week's time.

Character personalities tended to be one-sided. Noctis was edgy, Prompto was happy-go-lucky, Gladio was tough-guy, and Ignis was... nevermind, Iggy was great--- HE had some on-screen depth. Personally, I've developed these characters myself far more than what the game gave us, but I wish we'd gotten more canon depth beyond their surface-level traits. I love them with my whole heart and they deserve genuine complexity.

Now the things I actually really enjoyed:

The graphics were on-point. The amount of detail put into character design and into monsters was insane. You could zoom in and see individual textures on skin and hair and feathers, bringing a level of realism to the game that I personally enjoyed.

All of the Latin and Norse mythological references!! As a Latin nerd, I found little gems everywhere in this game. Esp in the names--- (Noctis Lucis Caelum = Of-the-night Sky-of-light (the genitives in there make the literal translation kinda a mouthful ik) Gladiolus Amicitia = Sword-flower Friendship (the gladiolus is an actual flower that gets its name from the Latin word gladius, meaning sword, for its sword-like shape) Ignis Scientia = Fire Knowledge; Prompto Argentum = Ready Silver (the word prompto is actually in the dative (possibly ablative), making the literal translation nonsense, but if they'd made his name Promptus, it would've sounded awkward, so I can see why they picked the dative/ablative form of the adjective for stylistic reasons and I put the rough translation instead)) WOW THAT WAS A LOT OF PARENTHETICAL INFO WHOOPS

Ardyn's character. I'm not saying this bc I'm one of the fans who fawn over him---Ardyn is DEFINITELY NOT MY PREFERRED FLAVOR OF MAN, but character-wise, he made an excellent antagonist. He was witty, slick, and classy in an I'm-gonna-outstep-you-like-it's-hopscotch sorta way. He was a poetic villain done well, which made him an antagonist you could both sympathize for and absolutely detest given the situation. He was both the master manipulator and the pawn one space away from the edge of the board. He can sway a crowd, but you know deep in your gut just by the cunning greed in his eyes that You Cannot Trust The Man. He was definitely Not a good person (tragic backstory isn't an excuse), but he was a good villain.

I loved the bond between the chocobros?? This is probably bc I'm a sucker for the found family trope, but their interactions were so amazing to me?? Like, not even the cutscene stuff. Just their little sidebar conversations during fights or while you're walking around or driving the Regalia. They're Roadtrip Buddies™ and I think that's excellent.

THE FOOD. By god, the food in this game looked absolutely scrumptious and I would like to partake. The Daggerquill Soup? Give it to me I'll pay you. The Creamy Crustacean Omelet? Stop it right now I'll eat that so fast it'll be a criminal offense. Like I know I touched on the graphics earlier, but broski I was not kidding. I guess I know why the game took so long to make it to the market bc the detail that went into these recipes is absolutely mouthwatering.

#prompto #noctis #ff15 #noctis lucis caelum #gladiolus amicitia #ignis scientia #ffxv #prompto argentum #ardyn lucis caelum #critique #fr this is just me talking to talk #you don't have to agree w anything here #there are more flaws than I listed for sure but I didn't feel like ripping the game to shreds

[ginarickys]

the early reception of hsmtmts season 4, or what we’ve seen of it so far, has been majorly positive. there have been a lot of negative comments too and while everybody is completely within their rights to criticize/discourse over media, the extent that some “fans” have been going to (mostly bitter portw*lls) is just borderline malignant and i’d like to address some of these reoccurring complaints.

as it relates to ej caswell, he is NOT a punching bag. i’ve seen so many people argue that they’re no longer supporting or watching the show because of its treatment of ej and i’m not mentioning this to attempt to police what people should or shouldn’t support, i’m mentioning this because the arguments i’ve seen for this point are laughably vain, as well as hostile towards every other character who isn’t him.

ej is not some victim of bullying by the hands of the writers. every character in hsmtmts has struggled. every character has had to endure some level of change, because it was necessary for them grow. every character has been penalized for trying to revert back to the things that actively regressed them. rini, that was shown to hold both ricky and nini back, didn’t stick for that exact reason. ej hasn’t gotten it worse simply because the writers wanted him to.

his “character arc” was learning not to give people food poisoning. his “struggle” in season one was losing followers because of a poor decision that he consciously made.

and of course, i couldn’t tackle this entire ej discussion without mentioning the whole “ricky stole his girlfriends” card that people are still playing. nini and gina were not THINGS to be stolen. both of them made the choice to break up with ej for reasons that were completely valid, because people who’re capable of thinking for themselves can do things like that. portw*lls and ej fans have a pattern of degrading gina especially, all because she didn’t allow herself to stay in a relationship that was making her unhappy.

you guys cannot stand that ej doesn’t get to own who he dates. it’s beyond telling.

as it relates to fan service, the people claiming hsmtmts sacrificed “realism” to cater to fans being anti rinas doesn’t surprise me. the disney show is the one you guys are cracking down on about realism, okay.

rina isn’t fan service. gina getting the lead isn’t fan service. those are things that make complete sense within the contextualization of the show, which you guys always choose to ignore. these are things that have been built up through parallel storytelling and through multiple accounts of foreshadowing, but i understand those who are saying these things are happening because the show needs “saving” with olivia gone wouldn’t perceive it that way.

i’m not calling anyone simple minded. but what’s the real reason gina shouldn’t be the lead? what’s the real reason ricky shouldn’t be with a girl who understands him, supports him, and provided the positive change that he needed at a low point in his life? why shouldn’t these characters be happy with each other?

ricky and gina are the truest to themselves when they’re together. ricky sees gina’s ambition, he sees her talent, and he praises her for that. gina sees ricky for all of his potential. she never actively tore him down, she never ridiculed him. was there a point where she set boundaries between them? sure, but they came out on the other side of it the strongest they’ve ever been. certain characters exiting the narrative doesn’t mean that the other characters stop growing or developing, the story doesn’t suffer just because your ship isn’t endgame, or because your favorite character isn’t always happy.

finally, in defense of ricky bowen, he’s had more than enough growth to beat the regression allegations.

just to reiterate, gina wasn’t property for him to claim. gina is the one who told him that he’s been her choice for some time, despite not being her plan, he was still the one she was choosing. ricky didn’t coerce her into saying that. he wasn’t pulling strings or feeding gina lies so that she would break up with ej, either.

ricky has been battling with change and defining himself since the very beginning of the show. over the course of three seasons, we watched ricky genuinely commit to theater. he came to camp to be with his friends, not to sweep gina off of her feet. even with people calling him unreliable, even after being told that he has “no profitable skills”, even after having some bumps in the road. ricky has done nice things for his friends without expecting anything in return.

after being defined by his slip-ups, more or less, ricky finally got to hear that he was a yes to someone. a shot worth taking. i’ve seen people complain that he’s the main reason that they’ve given up on the show, as well as claim that he gets everything handed to him. he had to make sacrifices and lose things to get to where he is. there’s quite literally no denying that.

this has gotten entirely too long, but i’m trying to illustrate that a lot of these story beats are obvious. no one is obligated to watch something that they don’t like, but i’ve seen former “fans” act horrifically racist and sexist, i’ve seen them discredit the cast, i’ve seen them complain about the attention season 3 gave to anxiety and sexuality, just because they weren’t happy nini left the show, and because portw*ll wasn’t together by the end of the season.

this is a disney show at the end of the day, try and relax.

#hsmtmts #ricky bowen #gina porter #rina #hsmtmts season 3 #hsmtmts season 4 #ricky x gina #i won’t be tagging any ships or characters i was more critical of

[sunbearsophia]

it's been so long since I uploaded art to my Tumblr, and since I've made so many pieces for Twitter, figured I would bring them over here, too! Works out better, since I have more space on Tumblr to ramble!

Anyways, I've doodled Eduardo in his later dad years at least twice, maybe even three times on my Twitter, but Laurel, I only ever drew once in her later mum years. So, I decided to draw her yet again to better figure out her design, and since I want to diversify how I draw body types anyways, my mind instantly went to "MOM BOD-"

Anyways, couple of notes of basically my thought process with the whole mum design! ^^

Definitely imagining she's probably in her mid-forties here, with her oldest Emmy probably in college by then and their youngest, Leo, being in middle school.

I definitely think since Laurel carried two kids, she's definitely got more of a pear-shape than she did in her youth, plus a bit of a stomach roll. It probably worried Laurel when she was younger when exercise and dieting didn't change that, but these days, Laurel's gotten past that, with time and self-love, plus an adoring husband who never ceases in telling her how beautiful she is, healing that insecurity and making her proud of her figure. <3

Has plenty of stretch marks, not to mention a leftover C-section scar from when she had Leo. She loves each and every one of them, they remind her of her kids, and she feels like she earned every single one of them.

Age has done nothing to slow Laurel down in terms of energy, however. She doesn't burn out or give up easily, always having time to spend with her husband, kiddos and friends, and still an actress for theatre and film alike. She knows to slow down and appreciate the important things, but she's still got energy to burn and passion to share!

She's perfectly happy with letting her hair grey, not feeling inclined to redye it or changing its color. She loves how it looks, as do the people around her. She does cut her hair, however, preferring the feeling of less hair to deal with, and likes the pixie cut. She just doesn't really need or want long hair for herself! (However, she LOVES Eduardo's middle-aged long hair, it's so pretty and relaxing to brush, especially since he barely brushes it himself lol.)

BODY. MODS. GALORE. I headcanon Laurel absolutely had a ton of piercings in her youth, something that age didn't stop one bit. She also still has matching MLP tattoos with Eduardo, and definitely has more that aren't pictured here. (Might try and design more at a later date!)

Has a million freckles, on her face, neck, arms and torso, and she loves every one of them. Might be a little jealous when she realizes Matt has more than she does, fuckin' MATT lmaooo.

Really loved drawing this piece! I feel like it's great and important to show more realism in body types and diversity in my art, so this was awesome to practice with! Plus, I'm just unbelievably proud of how she turned out! Laurel is such a huge fav of mine, and I definitely plan to make more art of her later years in my hc!

And yeah, def might try drawing Eduardo like this next, since I could use some practice with dad bods, too! Maybe Anna would also be a good choice to continue the mom trend, as well! But yeah, this was a celebration of older, female body types, and it makes me really proud of the final result and just getting to work on it! <3

#eddsworld #eddsworld fanart #eddsworld laurel #laurel eddsworld #ew laurel #eduardo x laurel mention #body positivity

[cleromancy]

still thinking about mia!

in particular i found the deliberate and thoughtful way ga01 approached the concept of a plucky teen sidekick refreshing... because sidekicks are a staple of the genre, right, and moreover most of us *like* them, so how do we justify the "good guys" *having* them when we're also writing stuff with way more realism than the old stuff?

and to be honest i don't really need that when im reading, i can suspend my disbelief. but you have to commit to the bit when you're the one writing it, you have to believe it. and a lonely place of dying... it did ok for what it was and im extremely fond of it, but i also think it was already walking away from like... the fact that batman got robin killed, yk. it was walking away from what that meant. and like i said thats fine. if they never brought robin back i never would have gotten into comics in the first place, yknow?

but i think the exploration of some of the thorny concepts around mia sidekicking in ga is great because like. this is *emphatically* not an omelas situation. green arrow definitively does not "need" a speedy and it is also emphatically not speedys job to provide a counterbalance or whatever.

ok this got long. putting in a cut here

and both dinah and roy absolutely tear into ollie about his decision to let mia sidekick with him--and i feel like ive read a fair few kid/teen sidekick stories which have the kid wind up in danger (or whatever) regardless of the adult trying to discourage them, and the adult at that point figures if theyre going to sneak out/disobey/whathaveyou its better to do it where the adult can keep an eye on them. and there are times when this is presented like the adult literally cannot convince the child not to do those things, which. yknow. we understand how fiction works so we also know if the writer says the kiddo wont listen to any reason, that the adult just doesn't have the power over them to stop them, then thats what happened... but the implications about the power dynamic and the adults ability to set reasonable boundaries dont paint a *great* picture.

but GA doesn't do that... i would argue mia was being set up to be the 2nd speedy all the way back to dinah and roys conversation in that plane where they just learned ollie might be alive and cant stop bitching about him lol. and iirc this is within the first 6 issues. and dinah and roy are both throwing around unfair accusations at the time, but roy says smth to the effect of what do you want to bet he's already training her to replace me. and i don't think he really believed that but it obviously planted the idea in readers heads if it wasnt there already! but yknow after that, mia doesn't debut as speedy until ga 46, or thereabouts im not looking it up, several years later both IRL and in-universe (or well in-universe its almost 2 years. iirc.).

(i can't even imagine how it must have felt if youd been following that series the whole time *finally* seeing that enter speedy cover. id have been screaming my damn head off.)

anyway. i already talked about comparing and contrasting the man mia killed during her test run vs the jason and felipe situation but i also wanted to say that i think it was great that the whole conversation pretty much *opens* with that. like forget physical danger the kid might be in--what about the psychological toll? what about the choices hes putting her in the position to make?

despite ollie very much being the protagonist of the series and mia very much being a supporting character, the focus of the emotional impact is on her, and the focus of the *responsibility* is on him. (now compare and contrast batman with robin...... listen, i absolutely do not believe it wasn't set up as a deliberate contrast, ok.)

and you would naturally think that would mean she doesn't... get to be speedy. she doesn't get to be a hero. she doesn't get another chance. but then she gets her HIV+ diagnosis, and the focus for mias character turns specifically to *living* with HIV.

and i think that's what makes it clear, to me at least, that the whole... fighting crime thing is supposed to be a metaphor. at least on some level. its a power fantasy, its a metaphor, its about the *good guys winning.* heroes being heroes. and i think a lot of the discussions around representation have gotten so overblown for what they are, but--unironically--sometimes its really meaningful and important just to see yourself. and to believe that no matter what youve lived through, you can be good, you can be wanted, you can make a difference.

which is why mia gives her presentation in the auditorium about her diagnosis, and i feel like this was also a deliberate callback to roy "only you can prevent forest fires" harper and his anti-drug PSA. because roy decided, after snowbirds, he was going to go public about his addiction because he wanted to help other people going through the same thing he did, or prevent other people from going through it yk. and there are two incidents i can think of where, years down the line, he feels some regret over it because now hes just known as the heroin guy, the guy who used to do drugs. but i also don't think he would ever have chosen to do anything else. both speedys are actively choosing to bear that stigma openly in the hopes of reducing it, you know?

speaking of which! i thought it was a *fantastic* - and no doubt deliberate - contrast to how roys drug use was treated, to have mia only talk about it *once* (this is in the HIV+ issue. 45ish?) that she regularly did meth when she was on the streets, and its explicitly clear she did it to survive. and it never comes up again. there's no condemnation, there's no literal war on drugs propaganda here. (the first roy comic i ever read was the mini ntt one in the mandatory fucking D.A.R.E program in middle school, btw.) it was a fact of her life because her life was *fucking dangerous,* and meth helped keep her alive until she managed to find her way out of it!

so this is another concept mia becoming speedy explores--the fact that the people who should have kept her safe as a child did the opposite. mia has never been safe her entire life until moving in with ollie. and the people who hurt her left permanent damage in a physical way in the form of HIV. so now ga is exploring like... what it means to be safe. what it means to be mortal. what exactly is a childhood. and it doesn't dig *too* too deeply into these because its not that kind of comic book, its the kind of comic book where the good guys shoot glue arrows at bad guys and stick them to the floor. but it approaches it and sits you down with those questions and i mean, for me at least, even putting aside exactly how hype i was for mia to take on the mantle, it felt *right* that ollie would say yes.

and the next issue i think or the one after that (its the teen titans one! tim is there later). is the one where roy reams ollie out for this, they talk about it, roy lampshades the different... contexts of having a speedy. like its not like how it used to be. the bad guys are worse, its not safe enough for a kid anymore. and this is where ollie relays mias diagnosis (<- she had already decided to go public about it as i said before, so ollies not sharing information that isnt his to share here). and roys like that could have been me. its a good issue! i like what it does with what its doing.

and then some 20 issues later, once mia is reasonably well established as a superhero and a titan....... Enter Jason.

(����)

i have so much to say about this arc i love it so much. let me preface by saying none of this is a condemnation of jason, hes pretty much my favorite fictional character of all time. im not interested in wagging my finger at the guy styling himself as a supervillain at the time and going Naughty Jason! Thats Not How We Make Friends!, yk. im also not endorsing it, bla bla bla, whatever, this really aint about him right now. right now we're just talking about what he does for the story, the questions he poses about mia and sidekicks and shit.

god, where to fucking start.

i guess ill start with jasons "were not so different you and i" villain speech. and yknow at least on the surface level theres like. a certain join-me-be-my-robin element to it or like he's encouraging her to cross the line or whatever. but honestly, jason was less there because jason todd the fictional character wanted to be there, and more because winick as the writer thought it continued to explore the concept in an interesting way.

because we've talked about green arrows responsibility vis a vis letting her be a sidekick bc of the psychological impact of it, about the choices she's put in a position to make, about HIV and what it means to be a hero and safety. all of those things. and jason shows up to *demonstrate* that--

--it really is not fucking safe to do what they do.

and Jason is, i think, at his most terrifying here, and thats on purpose. it is *visceral*. it is so, so incredibly well done. and it throws ALL those questions of safety and responsibility and mortality and heroism and do-gooding into a new light because you really feel like, oh my god, her life is in danger.

tbh i think some of the reader anger at jason for this arc--and titans tower, just to a lesser degree because it wasnt NEARLY as good lol--is the fact that he *is* challenging us, the readers, to think about our beloved kid/teen sidekick trope. he brings back the element of realism that GA was drawing away from somewhat, the element of *real consequences.* and as a reader it is so much easier to just be mad at jason because well hes the villain of the story...... and ignore the fact that hes demonstrating--both by being the dead robin cautionary tale, and by being ~red hood, the scourge of the underworld~ lol--that if this is not something she's prepared to face, a possibility she's prepared for, then she shouldn't be wearing that uniform.

and that the person she relies on to protect her can't always be there to do it.

and, mini tangent, there's absolutely no way jason was trying to kill her here. he terrified her, he kicked her ass, but he didn't do any permanent damage and he didnt "lock her in" (<- real reading i saw once 🙄 try reading it again with your eyes next time genius) he stabbed his knife into her cape. if jason were being written by anyone else i would entertain the idea but it was winick, who knows exactly how smart and thorough jason is supposed to be *because he was the one who made him that way.* there's no doubt in my mind that jason was perched somewhere watcging to make sure she got out before the place went kablooey but you know what, in fairness, thats not on the page. BUT, like. the reason mia *thinks* jason was going to kill her--before she realizes he could have if hed wanted to, and purposely let her go--was because he wanted her to think that. he wanted to scare her and he wanted to warn her and he wanted to make her think.

really really love this arc.

anyway. i mentioned in my other post that winick tweaked mias backstory so she was also homeless like jason, which i sort of have mixed feelings about. in smiths version, her dad trafficks her and later she winds up as one of the "girlfriends" (euphemism for victims) of his associates. and that was ... not really the picture of child trafficking you usually see in comics, the more common real-life scenario rather than the sensationalized version of quote-unquote child prostitutes on street corners. but at the same time i think winick kept the most important part (the familial trafficking) and i also think he changed it in order to explore all the aforementioned topics in an interesting way. it doesn't feel like it was just an arbitrary change, or to make it more exciting or whatever. like he was exploring stuff with it, it was purposeful.

for example--going back to mia and meth. the more you read of winick the more you notice that intravenous drugs and illnesses associated with them (so including but not limited to HIV/AIDS) are something of a... recurring... motif, i guess? they're something he regularly comes back to explore. and thats interesting in the context of mia for a lot of reasons but well. when mia defensively says to ollie that she used meth, the reason she gives is they used it to stay awake on the streets. and i do think winick deliberately--and *effectively*--explored the pre-existing (and historical) parallels btwn batman and green arrow in a bunch of other ways, so i don't think im off base in saying the fact that *robin* 2.0 famously lived on the streets *probably* had something to do with the backstory tweak for speedy 2.0, particularly again bc of jasons "we're the same" villain speech. but also, like i said, she mostly used to stay awake(/alive), which is something of a harder sell if she hadn't been homeless, and also like i said, winick likes exploring drugs and wanted to write a hero living with HIV.

before i get into the comparisons with jason and mia, i also want to say that i think jason--who im constantly affectionately calling a revenant--is such an effective contrast for mia because the emphasis for mia! was always on living. it was always on healing. despite having a *distinctly* non-everykid origin story, mia absolutely embodies something i think was very characteristic of her generation of teen titans, or at the very least early days cassie and tim, which was this simultaneous like... they're normal kids, they're *relatable,* but they're also superheroic in determination, and resourcefulness, and they want this, and they know they can do it, so they will. and thats what its all about, man.

...actually i just ran out of steam, ill write out some thoughts on jason telling mia theyre the same later lol sorry. im toired!!!!

anyway mia is soooo good.

#dc #text #many thoughts head empty #meta #mia

[tadpolesonalgae]

CBMTHY is quite literally my favorite thing right now, the past 3 parts you've posted I've hidden in the bathroom at work and read (sometimes twice) and I genuinely can't get enough. I love angst and your writing definitely fulfills that craving i have for it (please do more eventually).

You have such a realistic (delightful may i add) portrayal of azriel's not so good tendencies. i feel like he would push away someone who genuinely likes him away in favor of someone unobtainable. especially if she wasnt traditionally beautiful compared to someone like elain who could bring kings to their knees, nesta who is so effortlessly graceful and stoic, and feyre who is literally high lady and bagged not one, not two but THREE highlords (she could've had tarquin if she wanted lets be so forreal).

In comparison anyone would be plain, so reader being overlooked makes sense. And so az getting jealous that she of all people is getting attention from males after learning about her initial attraction to him is PERFECT. Because elain doesn't like him back, not with her having a mate and def not now that she knows her sister likes him. So azriel. to feel better about his rejected advances uses reader's affections to validate himself.

And don't even get me started on Eris 😭 this is the best writing for him ive seen. because hes an ass, he knows hes an ass. but with the way reader fought back against him after the swan incident you can practically FEEL that hes pleasantly surprised because who in their right mind is that unfiltered in front of a future highlord? and its only cemented with the conversation about the orrery. if he knew it bothered azriel on a personal level im sure he would do even more things for reader, (which id love to see), but i think that his gift in this most recent part is evidence enough that he respects her far more than az has in his entire time of knowing reader.

i definitely want to see azriel grovel, but i dont want her to accept it. she deserves to be respected by someone from day one. someone who can challenge her and match her energy, and i think that eris is that person long term. *maybe bas for short term ;) *

anyway, thank you so much if you read this. i look forward to reading your next part while hiding away at work

-a new reader 🤠

🥹🫂 well I really hope it continues to be as fulfilling as you’ve so far found it to be!

‘please do more eventually’

Going down a slightly more depressing path, I have found myself speculating about some other fic ideas that, quite frankly, I’m not sure they would even still count as angst? They seem to be leaning much more into general misery with no redemption? And I’m kind of liking it?

Returning to the whole idea of mental illness within the acotar universe, I’m wondering about self-esteem, too? Everyone in the Inner Circle has a “use” I guess? I’m wondering what it would be like to be surrounded by such powerful, capable people for two years and being the only one who has nothing to show for the time spent feeding off their charity.

Eris really scares me in terms of writing his character with a semblance of realism 😭

We haven’t really gotten a chance to see him being “nice” to anyone which makes me wary of a potential relationship between him and Reader? It’s a stressful like to walk, is what I’m saying, so I’m happy you’re finding it believable 🧡💛

‘if he knew it bothered azriel on a personal level im sure he would do even more things for reader’

Definitely agree with you there 🤭

‘i look forward to reading your next part while hiding away at work’

Well, I’ve been trying to get started on part 7 so hopefully you won’t have to wait too much longer (just make sure you don’t get caught🧡💛)

#🤠 anon <3 #🤠 #CBMTHY

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

Rheneas and the roller-coaster? (My apologies for inflicting this one on you)

Robin. What the hell did you just make me re-watch.

Heh heh. Actually, in all seriousness, it's imho... not horrible. It is however very bland. Like, I'd gotten through all of Season 7 once but I had no memory of this.

The plot is stupidly unbelievable—railway realism is thrown out the window. Then again it is far more plausible than "Rusty and the Boulder" sooooo...?

The episode simply feels like such a nothingburger than I can't even bring myself to detail all the ways in which it falls flat. Let's just agree that, well, it does. I get the sense it was written with the aim of doing Rheneas's character a long-overdue favor but in the end it's just filler.

Having stipulated, however, that this ep is a low point in season 7... there are actually a couple kudos I want to give it.

Mild kudos:

1) Hey, the "rollercoaster" runaway ride might have been silly and stupid... but it is kinda fun? A little? A pale shadow of the shenanigans of "Boulder," but I can tell the film crew were enjoying themselves. It seems obvious that Mitton wasn't really in charge of this one or, if he was, that he was entirely checked out. No, whoever directed this, you cannot make an interesting action sequence just by filming the whole thing with the camera tilted 90°... it takes a bit more than that.

But. Nevertheless. The detail of the props actually getting wet as they veer by the waterfall is such a nice touch:

This (live water!) ^ is the sort of thing that makes the model series so fun to watch, even when the writing is shit.

2) Is the writing all shit, though?

[Disclaimer: I feel the TVS has already established context/continuity in Season 6 for the NWR/Fat Controller having taken over the narrow-gauge railway and starting to make some drastic changes; we see the engines adjusting to a management style very different from what they experienced in the plots that were based on the books. So I take FC's and Rheneas's exchange in that spirit. He's trying to show a gentler side than "I'm going to shut down your entire line on a whim." Rheneas is especially keen to use this chance to prove himself to a somewhat capricious owner.]

On the one wheel, I sort of hate how this is another in a long line of episodes in this era that continue to baby-fy Rheneas and Skarloey (who are in need of kind, brave, clever Rusty to look after them in a cruel world).

On the other wheel, this particular story—if it is considered strictly on its own, and not in that sad, sorry context—I feel does a plausible job of characterizing Rheneas? Who is not an easy character to work with, since even Rev. Awdry left him quite undeveloped.

I can see people (probably yourself among them?) preferring other interpretations of Rheneas. But honestly... this one is valid. If you need him to have some sort of weakness or flaw to motivate a story, "fears he's not exciting enough to be of interest to a train full of kids" feels legitimate. In RWS, one of his things was very much always seeming to be overshadowed by Skarloey's charisma. He's the quieter and more serious of the pair, and while he gamely gives it a go he's also nervous and not at all comfortable when the Thin Controller puts him on the spot to give a little speech on his birthday.

The "insecurity" motive gets way overused in TVS, of course—but as of Season 7 it wasn't quite overused yet. And, obviously it would be stupid to have Rheneas feel he's not up to most jobs, given that at this point he's got over a hundred years of badassery under his boiler bands. But the specific charge of "this is a very special day for the kiddos; make sure it's memorable for them!"... like okay, I can actually roll with this and easily believe in a Rheneas that's secretly going, Well, fuck. Then why didn't you have literally anyone else do it? I'm not the entertaining one.

*insert cute image of Rheneas licking his thumb and quickly flipping a handbook entitled How To Be Fun*

Sooooo... yeah. It's not a good episode. But I don't actually find it dire. It's within the usual range of Season 7 bland.

(Which I used to think was the worst... until I watched the next few seasons. At least Season 7 bland was still short and sweet, clocking in at under 6 minutes a pop!)

#chatter #this is ttte #ttte #ttte episode talk #ttte season 7 #rheneas' rollercoaster #ttte rheneas #ttte skarloey #the fat controller #narrow-gauge is all the rage #... mitton IS listed as the director for this one i know but i truly believe he read the script said 'fuck this' and delegated 😂 #james mason #<- this is the writer for this episode #kinda interesting to look at his credits #and i believe it bears out my sense that he's a writer with a good handle on the characters #yes he wrote a lot of crappy boring episodes #but notably he also gave us 'It's Only Snow' (GREAT characterisations all around) #'Respect for Gordon' (commonly cited as people's favorite HiT episode) #and 'Saving Edward' (which is less universally approved but at least a relevant episode #that shows some understanding of the characters as more than just #ciphers who can be interchangeably shoved into a silly three-strikes plot)

[tealenko]

Didn't Have the Heart (Chapter 5)

Chapter 5: Echoes from the Past

Don't let the title fool you, this chapter is 30% fun and 70% angst (sorry guys... but it's ME3, there's no realism if Shepard doesn't go a bit crazy little by little).

By the way, I went a bit mad myself and there's like A TON of references to my previous fics of this saga, especially to Listen Before I Go (Shepard's pre-ME1 story in the Alliance) and Never Have I Ever (Where Shep, Garrus, Vega and Kaidan get mega drunk and say way too many things they shouldn't have).

I'm at that point where all my fics are connected and that's okay, because I'm 100% writing them for myself (well... 90%, if it was 100% they would be in Spanish lol)

Anyways...

Sorry this took me so long. Life happens (You can always check my tumblr to see what I'm writing and if I'm close to post a new chapter)

Summary: Shepard wakes up and has to deal with the consequences of what she did when she got drunk.

Words: 4717 Rating: Teens and up Warnings: language and drinking

Read in AO3 -> [link] Previous Chapter -> [Link] Next Chapter -> [Link]

Through Hell and Back series -> [link]

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

“Shepard.”

She hears her name like an echo. A whisper that retumbs through every shadow and fades on the horizon along with the rest of the scenery.

“Live… Be someone…”

Dark trees grow in thousands from her surroundings to infinity, planted through a limbo of trembling shadows and thick fog that makes it impossible to discern if there’s truly an end to the whole scenery.

“...be more.”

The air is so dense that she finds it almost impossible to breathe and think at the same time, feeling like an unknown gravity, way stronger and harsher than the one she’s used to, keeps trying to bring her down to the ground.

“Maybe in another life…”

After a few seconds of disorientation, she starts walking, moment in which the voice becomes louder, clearer and is promptly joined by many more.

“Kalahira…” 

“...”

“Go back and get Alenko.”

“...”

“Someone else might have gotten it wrong.”

“...”

She crouches under the overwhelming noise, hugging her legs as she fixes her eyes on the ground in a futile attempt of concentrating on something else than the many voices that haunt her past.

“First time, eh?”

“…”

She freezes in place. 

All the other voices are banished away by the appearance of the last one, which sounds so sharp and real that she is almost expecting to find its owner in front of her if her eyes ever dare to leave the ground.

Nevertheless, she keeps her sight still, along with the rest of her body, too afraid of both hearing and not hearing that specific voice ever again if she decides to move in the slightest.

“I trust your gut Dee, choose and I’ll follow.”

She shakes her head a couple of times, too tortured by the memories that are now gathering in her mind but, against her efforts, her attempt to make it all dissapear only makes things worse and, in a matter of seconds, echoes from all the past conversations with her long lost friend, start to fill the air that surrounds her.

“I’m just here because of you.” A tear starts falling slowly, way too unhurried to follow the laws of physics, somehow unaffected by the strange force that’s keeping her down to the ground.

“You already have a plan, don’t you?” She remains still, avoiding any kind of movement to see if that makes it fade away.

It doesn’t. 

“Oh, come on Dee! You don’t fool anyone... You love me and you know it!” She can hear the laugh that came along with that sentence almost a decade ago floating around her, and also feel the warm embrace that came right after. 

“Wait… That’s why? No… That’s the true meaning of that ring?” Her hand closes instinctively, trying to hold on onto the piece of jewelry that is no longer there. Hasn’t been for years now. 

A second tear falls now.

And a third. 

And a fourth.

“How about a song?”

Shepard covers her ears with her hands while the tears keep traveling steadily across her face, in a desperate attempt of silencing the voice, with every sentence hurting her more than the one before.

Nevertheless, and despite all her efforts, one last memory makes it all the way through her pain in order to give her the final strike.

“Dee, listen… Please… Do not let me become an anchor.”

Her crying stops dead the moment she hears that, feeling her heart falling apart along with whatever was left of tears and, before she has time to think about it, her body decides to move on its own, quickly redirecting her eyes against her will to search for the source of all those words.

Unfortunately, all she finds after raising her head is the familiar wall of her room, that seems now narrower than ever after her haunting visit to the vast neverending forest.

“What…?”

It takes her a few seconds to be fully awake and come to terms with where she is. 

“A dream.” She says after a big sigh, observing all the details of her cabin as her mind returns to the real world. “Another dream…”

She frets about it for a second before all her other worries distract her from this one and, in no time, her head is filled once again with the burden of all of the tasks attached to the title that, for years now, has replaced her true name.

Shepard’s usual routine starts once again but, as she finishes checking her messages on her omni-tool, one remnant teardrop falls onto it, carried along from her dreams into reality. 

She looks at it for a second before getting out of bed and, as she clears her face and what’s left of her sorrow on it, she heads to the elevator, trying her best to leave behind in her room, not only the tears, but the forest and the echoes that caused them in the first place.

"EDI, are Garrus or Vega alive right now?"

"If by alive you mean awake, yes. Garrus is in port observation, in his own words: taking a rest from ‘keeping the Normandy afloat’. Which I find to be a deeply inaccurate affirmation, but he insists that: ‘nothing could be more true’."

Shepard laughs a little.

"Thanks EDI."

After taking a deep breath, she presses the elevator panel and heads to the crew deck. 

She's resolved to go directly to talk with her friend, before she has time to overthink or question what she wants to tell him. 

Nevertheless, a familiar laugher coming from the kitchen area suddenly calls her attention, and she is unable to resist her curiosity, which leads her to lean against the hallway walls as she focuses all her senses in dropping ears in the distant conversation. 

"You have to be kidding me…" Kaidan says, way too pleased by the new information he just received. "So… I'm crazy enough to forgive her, eh?"

"That's what she said."

Liara’s voice sounds very happy too, amused, she figures, by his reaction to her news.

"Nah, you just made that up to cheer me up."

"I didn't, I swear."

"Are you sure those were her words?" Kaidan asks again. "That doesn't sound like Shepard."

"I was there, Kaidan… Why are you finding it so hard to believe?"

"I don't know…" There’s a moment of silence, but Shepard doesn't need to see Liara's reaction to understand the look she’s giving him once she hears him laughing as consequence. "Okay, okay. It's just… That I see nothing to forgive.“ He clarifies. ”She did what she had to."

That last statement hits Shepard right in her heart, who suddenly starts to understand how deep the root of her guilt of having to work for Cerberus extends into her being.

"So… You'd choose differently, if given the chance again?"

"No… No, at least I don't think so. Would you?" Kaidan sighs and giggles a little. "She is right. I'm not able to go against my morals and judgment, not even for her."

Liara doesn't add anything to his reply. Shepard can imagine her staring at Kaidan, processing all he said to her with care before she actually forms a new opinion. 

"Lucky for me, she says she likes that about me." Kaidan chuckles a little. "Which is ironic if you think about it…"

"What is?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure it wasn't easy for her… To go against her own wishes in the name of a greater good, and…" Kaidan takes a second to clear his throat. "I guess, that's one of the things that made me fall in love with her in the first place. The fact that she always puts everything and everyone before herself… I mean, to a point.” He laughs again and, this time around, she knows perfectly the reason why. “I can’t count how many times I’ve wished she would take better care of herself…" 

Kaidan stops mid sentence and sighs.

"Sorry… I was just thinking out loud." He tells her. "It's just that I… I…”

“Yes?” Liara asks him, giving him all the time he requires to reply.

“I just  wish I would’ve seen everything so clearly a year ago."

It’s difficult to pinpoint which one of them is more affected by Kaidan’s last sentence, the two members of the actual conversation, or the one this one is about, who keep listening to them from afar.

"Better late than never…"

"True."

Both of them laugh again and fall silent and, before she has time to process everything they just said, she notices a set of footsteps coming closer to her by the second.

“Hey Lola.”  James greets her, appearing out of nowhere and making her jump a little. “Uff, sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

Shepard laughs and shakes her head a couple of times.

“No, no… It’s okay. In fact, I wanted to talk to you and your bestie, have a second?”

“My bes… Ah, Scars.” James laughs at her comment. “Yeah, of course, order and I’ll follow.”

“Great then.”

They walk together into the room and find Garrus there, sitting on one of the sofas, telling battle stories to one of the youngest soldiers of the crew.

The turian looks briefly at them before continuing talking, dedicating them a subtle nod as a greeting.

Shepard and Vega don’t even need to talk to know what to do. They just share an amused look and sit on the bar right after, pulling out a couple of beers to drink as they become silent members of the audience and let Garrus continue his stories.

They stay like that for a while. With the Turian sharing his experiences and cracking a joke here and there while everyone else listens and pays attention to everything he has to say.

After almost an hour like this, the young man excuses himself and goes away to resume his duty, leaving the three friends alone in the room.

“So…” Garrus says after a few seconds of awkward silence. “How’s it going, Shepard?”

“Great, surviving.” All of them laugh and relax a little. “How about you?”

“Well, surviving as well.” He replies. “Remind me to never accept anything that comes from Vega.”

“Hey, you asked for it, Scars.” 

“And this is your second time falling for it, Garrus…” Shepard ads, joining forces with the leftenant. “I thought by now you would’ve learned your lesson. No wonder you’ve never managed to finish the whole ship’s calibrations… I think we’re asking too much of you.” 

Shepard and Vega break into laughter right away, cheering in honor of her teasing by toasting their bottles mid air as they laugh.

“Ahh… I should’ve known better than getting aboard an all human ship.” He says under his breath, or in its turian counterpart, which makes his two friends laugh even more. “This is why you’re here? To make fun of me?”

“No, that’s not it…” 

“Lola wants to speak with us, Scars.” James interrupts her, giving a lot of emphasis to the word ‘speak’. “I guess this is when she begs us to keep the whole ‘Alenko deal’ down to ourselves.”

The two of them smile and, to their surprise, so does Shepard, who can’t avoid finding the whole situation somewhat funny.

“No, no… I mean, I’d appreciate it if I could exercise some range of discretion, I’m not gonna lie, but this kind of thing always finds its way out. Would be nice if you tried to avoid discussing it in the open, though.”

“Yeah, you got it Shep.” Garrus says, and James nods right away, both of them reassuring his friend. “We might be a pain in the ass sometime but you can trust us, right Jimmy?”

James starts laughing and nods one more time agreeing with the turian.

“Yep, and we promise to behave a little better too…” He adds, feeling a bit guilty for everything that happened in that room not so long ago. “Or at least we’ll try our best to not corner Alenko and get him drunk.”

The three of them laugh again.

“At least it was an interesting experience…” She adds when she thinks about it. “I have to say I had a great deal of fun.”

A strange silence fills the room before any of them finds the courage to ask what they really want to know but, after a few seconds of hesitation, James finally finds a way to inquire what they’re fearing.

“I really thought you were gonna scold us…” He says with a soft tone of voice. “Isn’t that why you wanted to talk with us?”

“What? No…” She replies right away, feeling now even worse about the whole situation. “No. In fact… I wanted to apologize.”

“A… Apologize?”

Despite all the remorse, Shepard can’t avoid laughing at her friends’ expressions, which have changed from remorse to disbelief in a matter of seconds.

“Yeah. Apologize.” She confirms, after seeing the confusion in their faces.  “I could blame the alcohol, which I’m sure was a deciding factor in the whole thing, but, I’m your commanding officer, and I should've known better than to guilt trip the both of you into leaving us alone in the room, no matter the fact that there was more gin than blood running through my veins when that happened.”

James’ jaw falls gradually to the ground as Shepard says all this, laughing with his eyes wild open, completely in awe of her statement.

Garrus, on the other hand, stays with a confused look for almost a minute, before everything finally clicks in his mind, starting to understand a great deal more of what Shepard said on said evening, or better said, of what he can remember, which isn’t a lot.

“Wait… Are you saying…?”

“Yes.” She confirms right away.

“That’s why you tried to make him leave…”

“Yup.” She nods again.

“And the whole ‘I’ve never had a home…’”

“Yes.” She cuts him again, this time with less enthusiasm. “And I’m really sorry about that last one. I have no excuse, no matter how much… How much…”

She struggles to find the appropriate words, so she just leaves her sentence unfinished and decides to keep drinking her beer, hoping his friends are able to understand what she wants to say.

Unfortunately for her, they are.

“... how much you wanted to bang Alenko like a door on a hurricane?”

Shepard almost chokes with her drink when she hears those words coming out of Vega’s mouth, moment in which her two friends break into laughter all at once, and, after a few seconds of general shock, she surrenders herself to the whole situation and joins in too.

“Sorry, Lola… I couldn’t help it.” James says, clearing a tear and trying to compose himself.

“Nah… That’s fine, I kinda deserve it.” She considers a sentence in her mind for a couple of seconds before she says it out loud. “And let’s be honest, you’re completely right.”

James smiles and claps a couple of times.

“Well, it’s good to know we didn’t say anything inappropriate…” He says as he stands up, getting ready to go back to his schedule.

“Oh! I mean, you totally did…” Shepard replies right away, in between chuckles. “But it takes more than the two of you, completely smashed and all, to offend me… ”

“Cool.”

“I mean… I used to deal with Udina’s shit on a regular basis, and,” she stops for a second of reflection, before adding in a lower tone of voice, “just between us, I’m kinda glad that he went mad and gave Alenko a reason to shoot at him.” 

The three friends break into laughter all in unison this time around, creating a loud noise that, even if they aren’t aware of it, scares the life out of Tali, who was coincidentally near the elevator when the whole laughter started.   

They stay like that for a while, to the point that, when Vega is finally able to collect himself and bid them farewell to carry on with his agenda, Shepard and Garrus are still struggling to go back to their normal selves.

After a few minutes like that, the turian regains a little of his composure and moves to sit next to her at the bar, needing a couple more seconds before he is finally able to say something.

“Ayy, Shepard…” He says as he pats her a couple of times on her back. “I’ve truly missed you.”

“You see me all the time, Garrus.” She says with a big smile on her face. “I mean, no one has spent more time with me in the last ten years…” She takes a moment there. “You were even crazy enough to follow me to Cerberus, being a turian and all that.” 

“Not all of us are as strong as Kaidan, Shep.” She laughs a little before hitting him gently on his arm.

“Very funny.” 

“I mean it…” He clarifies. 

“Sure”

“I promise.”

Shepard directs her eyes to the ceiling for a moment and sighs.

“So… You aren’t gonna give me the ‘are you sure about Kaidan’ talk?” She asks as she redirects her sight to look at her friend.

“Maybe a few months ago I would’ve…” He admits in a repentant tone. “Not anymore.” He states, no hint of hesitation in his voice. “It takes a strong will to do something that goes against all of your own wishes and… Well.” He stops mid sentence and points at her with his open talons. “Look who I’m talking to.”

Shepard smiles one more time because of his comment, but he can see how her expression differs quite a lot from all her previous ones, finding a well of sadness the moment he meets her eyes.

“Yeah…” It’s the only thing she adds, in a calm tone of voice, lost in her own thoughts.

“You okay?”

It takes her a couple of seconds to process his words, but his question is able to bring her back to reality.

“Yeah.” She replies again, more sure and cheerful this time around. “Just a bit tired…”

“Of course.” 

Garrus is aware that she isn’t telling the whole truth, but he knows his friend way too well to understand that delving deeper into the whole affair would only make things worse.

“So…” Shepard starts saying, trying to change the focus of their conversation. “Tali, eh?” Garrus smiles at her comment. “You moved fast Vakarian, she’s only been on the ship for a couple days.”

“We kept in touch…” He clarifies in a softer, almost shy, tone of voice. “When you went back to Earth. And well…”

Shepard touches his arm and smiles at him, letting him know she’s also able to understand what he means with only that much of a sentence.

“I’m glad for you two.”

“Yes… As I am for you.” He replies. “As I said before, I missed you.”

Shepard sighs, knowing there’s a hidden meaning in his last words, but unable to picture what he is truly saying. 

Despite her better judgment, her curiosity ends up winning and, after a few seconds of processing everything, she finally decides to reply instead of using her standard strategy of avoiding this kind of conversation.

“You’ve said that already.”

“It is true.”

“So… You missed me since you saw me yesterday?” She asks with skepticism.

“No… No. I’ve missed you since I saw you fall along with the Normandy.”

For a second there Shepard feels completely defenseless against his comment. 

A strange force appears out of nowhere and tries to rip her soul apart from within, both too similar and nothing alike what she remembers the feeling of drifting away into the vast space was like, with the gravity of Alchera sucking her into its atmosphere at complete mercy of the forces of the universe.

Despite everything going inside of her, she maintains a straight face. She even laughs a little at Garrus’ comment once the initial shock is gone, trying her best to hide or, better said, avoid all of her memories as long as she’s able.

Unfortunately for her, her friend doesn’t seem to be willing to let the whole thing go away so easily.

“I missed you for years now… The real you, that is.” He insists, trying his best, and failing miserably, to get a better understanding of what she’s really going through right now. Nevertheless, he keeps going with his speech. “And, for the first time in years, I'm starting to see glimmer of you, the real you.”

Shepard gives him a dry smile before gulping what was left of her beer with a somewhat annoyed look on her face, but that doesn’t stop him either. 

“I mean, you even seem happy. Who would've thought that to be possible a few months ago?”

“You're exaggerating…” She tries to deflect again.

“Well, I guess that's another thing we have Alenko to thank for…” He turns a little to look better at her, knowing the effect the mention of Kaidan’s name is going to have on his friend.

For the first time in their whole conversation, he gives her enough time to process all of his words, instead of expecting an instant answer, and decides to continue with what he’s been meaning to tell her. 

“That’s also the main reason I’m not gonna give you… What did you call it? The ‘Kaidan talk’?”

She laughs at his comment, this time for real, shaking away some of her previous feelings and memories for the moment.

“Yeah, something like that…”

Garrus smiles with her, thinking about the implications of her original sentence.

“Are people giving you shit about him already?”

“Already…” Shepard laughs again. “I’d say ‘still’ fits the whole situation.” She rests her arms on top of the bar, leaning backwards on her bar stool. “Not that I care, though…” She smiles. ”I’ve wanted this for so long that I really don’t give a…”

Shepard lets her words disappear into thin air, suddenly aware that she’s giving him more information than she wanted to say.

She waits patiently for his comeback, completely sure he is going to ask her to finish her sentence, but instead, he just looks at her for a few seconds and nods, not needing to hear this either to know what she meant.

“I understand.” Garrus finally tells her, moving to sit closer to her as he starts to smile, already amused by what he’s going to say. “And, next time someone tries to give you ‘the Kaidan talk’... Call me up.” He tells her, giving her a soft nudge on her arm. “I still owe you for the last two times you prevented me from killing someone.”

Making use of all of her strength, Shepard manages to control her grin long enough to give a comeback.

“Three…” She corrects him right away.. “But who's counting.”

The two of them start laughing at both of their comments, finding each one of them, and what they imply, as funny as the other.

They calm down quicker this time around, giving Garrus a new opportunity to strike one more time.

“Sooo…” He starts again once he has the chance. “Everything okay, then? With the whole ‘Kaidan thing’, I mean. Are you okay?”

As always, there’s only preoccupation in the tone of his voice, no judgment or will to pry on her personal life. Just overall worry about someone he cares about.

Her whole body asks her to reply right away and say ‘yes’, a self defense mechanism she’s been implementing since she can remember. Nevertheless, she manages to fight against it and attempts to slow down her thoughts, searching for a true answer to his question.

“I don’t know…” Shepard finally states, taking a small pause to think about her feelings. “I…”

“You feel guilty.” Garrus adds without any kind of doubt.

“Yes.”

“For being happy.”

“Yes.” She admits again, finding some sort of peace after saying it out loud. “Am I that easy to read?”

He smiles a little at her comment.

“Of course not, Shepard. It’s taken me a lot of years, alcohol and effort to refine the noble art of knowing what’s really going on inside of your head…” He says in between laughs. “I guess I deserve it, for deciding to have a human as my best friend.”

His last words crash against her harder than she could’ve ever imagined, bringing back echoes of her past that instantly begin to haunt her, no nightmare nor forest needed this time around.

I prefer to see you like this. 

The voice of her long lost friend retumbs on her mind, replaying memories so accurately that she can almost see them.

Talking and laughing.

Shepard quickly stands up and takes a few steps. Summoning all her strength to hide from Garrus what’s really going on inside her head.

Please, stop. She says to herself, clenching her fist. Don’t start again…

Her own memories answer her begs, using the same reply that was used against her so many years ago.

I know, I know. You don't talk about that. You don’t talk about your name. Or about your family. You don’t talk about your past. Or your feelings. Or what you’ve been through… 

“You okay?” Garrus asks, as careful as he’s able, knowing something is happening to her right now, but well aware that if he pushes this too far she’ll run away as fast as she’s able.

And he isn’t wrong.

“Eh? Ah, yes. Sure”

I get it. You never talk about yourself… 

Shepard ignores the voice and keeps looking away from Garrus.

“I just remembered I… I…”

But you cannot deny that you're way happier now than when we met for the first time.

“I needed to talk with someone…”

“Someone?”

“Joker, I need to talk with Joker. Yes… To apologize and all that, for the whole drunken call.” She turns for just one second and forces a smile to say goodbye. “See you around, kay?”

And just like that she vanishes before Garrus is even able to comprehend what just happened, running from the whole situation in the blink of an eye.

“Okay…” He replies to the empty space she’s left behind, his mind still trying to find some kind of sense in the whole situation. “What…?”

After a few seconds of general confusion he shakes his head a couple of times, inspects the room and decides to clean a little, needing something else to focus on for a moment.

Garrus drags the stools closer to the bar and throws the two empty bottles of beer in the trash and, while he’s on it, his head keeps replaying the last few minutes of his conversation with Shepard, trying to find the moment where he crossed a line he shouldn’t have.

He’s been out of the loop with Shepard before, but this is new to him. This time around, he wasn’t expecting it and, worse of all, he has no idea of either the root of the problem nor its solution.

“...”

He quickly runs out of distractions and, the moment there’s nothing else to do, he goes back to his frozen pose and is instantly swallowed by the dilemma once again. 

The fact that she reacted better than he thought she would to everything he was afraid to ask up to that point isn’t helping either, making the whole problem even harder to pinpoint.

“Maybe it's nothing and I’m obsessing over it…” He says, almost surrendering to the whole idea that if he isn’t able to find the problem, there must be none. “Yeah, that  has to be it.” 

He starts walking towards the door and, for a few seconds, he almost succeeds in fooling himself. 

“You worry too much about nonsense, Garrus.” 

His own lie works flawlessly against him for a moment there, for who could know more about Shepard than him, right? He says in his mind. If I don’t see anything…

Nevertheless, something makes him stop at the threshold, right when he’s in the middle of his inner speech, no longer able to deny what’s the real thing he needs to do in order to get some clarity. 

“Ah…” He sighs at last, finally choosing to do what’s best for his friend, and not what’s easier for him to accept. “I need to talk to Kaidan.”

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

*hums melody before starting to sing* loooook I made you some conteeeeeeeeeent XDDDDDDDDDD Sorry, I had to.

Errrmm... I'm going to address it in the future but, for those who didn't understand what's going on with Shep, the main character in her dreams, that she also hears at the end, is the main character in LBIG. Her best friend from training days and... Well, my Shep has the survivor background so... you can imagine the rest (and if you don't it's okay, I'm going to write it... aaaaand that fic will end in Akuze T-T) Anyway... You may now be able understand why Garrus calling her his "best friend" is so triggering for her.

Btw, don't worry, next 2 chapters are going to be more fun than angsty (I promise XD)

#mass effect #commander shepard #kaidan alenko #shenko #shepard x kaidan #fshenko #mass effect 3 #femshep x kaidan #fanfic

[nightmarist]

For the artist questions, 6, 21 and 30 if you dont mind

6. What’s your least favorite thing to draw?

Ironically what people tell me to draw.

It's my love-hate with commissions, where I can need the money but dread what people are going to pay me to draw. However, I do like requests, there's a semantic difference in my brain for a request bc usually requests are framed in ways that people want me to draw something they think would match my art or think I the artist would enjoy drawing vs commissions where people want something I just couldnt care less about but Have to do it.

Since I've gotten more established professionally IRL I get to be more choosy about what I take on as commission, so I might just endup doing a whole "I'll only do commissions if I actually like your idea" since I do want to be paid for my work and I do think people have really cool ideas I would love to pry out of their tangled brains and put to paper or canvas or whatever. But even then, If I do really love someone's idea, I mean. Fuck it. I'd love to do it. I love making things for people and giving them away. The fleeting aspects of art can be art too.

21. Do you like to challenge yourself?

Yes !!! I constantly do shitty little sketches and go to drawing tutorials, ask my art instructor and professor friends for tips, tricks, ideas etc. I do a lot of exercises and recently I've become much less afraid of creating backgrounds now that I have a better grasp how to make them. Similarly I'm trying to figure out painting more, which is both fun and challenging.

I don't want to do Just realism, I would love to experiment with other styles. Now that I have actual income, I can "waste" resources (paint, canvases, etc) practicing. Usually the issue is, if I make something, I can't buy back the things I used to make it, and therefore can't continue making. One of the big reasons I've been doing so much more art lately than the past decade.

30. What inspires you to not just make art, but to be a better artist?

How do you define it? Is it what's the most realistic? I can do realism. I have. Ive been doing it since I was a young teenager, I had galleries and awards and was paid hundreds to nearly a thousand dollars for pieces. My parents kept all the money. Now that I'm an adult, no one gives a shit that some thirty year old man can paint a realistic portrait of a celebrity. It only mattered when I was 13 and 14 using a program no one ever heard of (paint tool sai) or didnt think photoshop could be anything but a photo editor. Realism isnt fun, anyway, at least not anymore for me.

I do think that things like "the basics" - anatomy and realism, still life, color theory, perspective, all should be learned to learn how to make compelling art. But they dont have to be used in polished, aesthetically pleasing ways. Once you learn how and why "oh these colors clash and make people turn away from how jarring they are" you can use that. "These perspective lines are weird" can be just as compelling when you have the knowledge to fuck around with it.

I think the thing for me is, after having collaborated with so many other artists IRL and seeing their work, art is so much more than being "good" or "better" or "best" — it's expression. What you express, how you express it, those are each personal things.

Art isn't just painting. Or embroidery. Or convention. Its this lady in town who makes full body puppet costumes out of scrap blankets and broken ceramics. Is this old woman in the country side who makes masks out of paper and crayons. Its a local punk who learned to silk screen their own T shirts with weird shit.

I guess more or less being a "better" artist for me is coming to understand that there's no actual such thing. You can have your own personal goals, set them, and make them.

In addition, "every artwork is practice for the next"

It's a perpetual cultivated skill that, when you look back, there will always be something you could have done "better"

[umbral-stigmata-unbound]

𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍

———  BASICS! ♡

(PEN)NAME: Ash/Ashton/Jordan

PRONOUNS: He/Him & She/Her

ZODIAC SIGN: Aries / Pig

TAKEN OR SINGLE:  Single

———  THREE  FACTS! ♡

1 -  I used to believe that a specific anime show was real and I was destined to go there and be a part of the main cast hero group, I just had to be a certain age and a certain size/build/weight so once I achieved that, they’d come to get me. So, technically, up until 12 or 13 yoa I was waiting for my isekai destiny.

2 -  Jumped back and forth between normal school, homeschool, then normal school again, only to end off with virtual so my school experience as well as my school-taught knowledge is all over the place.

3 -  If you ever need to make me laugh, just link me ‘The Lochness Monster Song’ from Youtube. Because I have horrible humor and that whole thing kills me.

———  EXPERIENCE! ♡

PLATFORMS USED: I think MSN messenger, Max/Dan/Wiz before they removed the forums, then facebook communities (both via actual pages or just making friends a few or a group at a time and building an indirect community and plot from the overflow of people. idk how i used to handle that lmao), other forums and eventually on and off tumblr, discord, wire. occasionally omegle to email or discord when im desperate.

PLOTTING / WINGING IT / MEMES: I am open to all, but if it becomes a thread, I definitely prefer reasonable plotting somewhere along the lines, and occasionally popping in for plotting refreshers if needed to keep the plot going!

———  MUSE  PREFERENCE! ♡

GENDER: I can write both, but I generally prefer males, unless I just really vibe with a female characters personality and plot and such.

MULTI OR SINGLE: Multimuse half the time, mainly on this blog. I tend to take on a few characters if I have interest and/or experience, just depending on the fandom.

LEAST FAVOURITE FACECLAIM(S): I don’t have any big opinions on faceclaims, honestly. i’ve used them in the past for OCs or RL examples of book or animated or other such characters. for stuff that has reasonable picture options, i would generally expect those pictures to be used, but im not gonna complain otherwise.

———  FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! ♡    

FLUFF: I love it, especially as a sort of balm over formerly stressful content, or its just...so dang cute and addictive. So long as it stays in mine and my partners personal parameters of believable/fitting/appropriate for the scene and our characters unless otherwise being wish fulfillment content.

ANGST: I generally live by it. Sometimes I might have moments where I get really caught up and i overthink the comfort level or consequences and try to solve issues like a RL person rather than trying to tell and enjoy a story but, when I can control that, I thoroughly enjoy some good angst with roleplay partners.

SMUT: I’m totally on board with it. I’ve been known to just throw out fling moments, moreso with characters it makes sense for, but I generally prefer some believable build up. The long pine, slow burn can be amazing, but I also understand and relate to partners who might have those moments of just feeling they and their muse have both gotten a little impatient/it feels like a moment is there and you just take it.

BONUS: I don’t always manage it well but I’ve come to enjoy developing HC’s/fanon for my muses and I adore moments where I get to share that and build some realism and relatability, within reason and accuracy, to my characters..

Tagged by: stolen from @roleplay-abiogenesis2 just cause~ been meaning to do it for a while lol

Tagging: anyone who wants to do it!

#dash stuffs #ooc #ooc post #ash talks #dash meme

[ufonaut]

Hey Alissa, I haven't forgotten the DC magic side rec list, but I was wondering if you had any recs for other writers who write comics for mature audiences like Tom King or other specific mature works? I do love my older comic books, but I need to diversify with more 'adult' stuff, haha <3

hi!!!!! yes, absolutely! i think a lot of the dc magic side stuff does deal in mature themes and i stand by those recs, and i also think you'd really like tom king's supergirl: woman of tomorrow eight-issue miniseries (which feels to me like a narrative you might enjoy as a mary fan and that it runs parallel to a lot of girlhood/womanhood coming-of-age narratives heroines never get written so well, all under the pretext of a revenge quest across the galaxy) buuuut i will also offer this random assortment of some of my favourite black label-esque books. warning: here be every conceivable genre

first of all, as a fellow lover of the golden age of comics, i'd recommend james robinson's work with my whole entire heart. i believe he's the one writer at dc palpably influenced by the golden age and obviously in love with it, nobody deals in nostalgia as well as robinson does and certainly nobody appreciates the characters of back then the way he does. there's starman 1994, of course, but that's an 80-issue commitment so i'd start you off with the vigilante: city lights, prairie justice 1995 four-issue miniseries and the golden age 1993 four-issue miniseries (both of which are two of my all time favourite books generally)!

one of the earliest comics creators to deal in mature themes is also howard chaykin, whose work i've been slowly making my way through, and i've really enjoyed his blackhawk 1988, the shadow 1987 and twilight 1990 miniseries. they are, admittedly, a little bit hard to get into at first (he's primarily an artist and the narrative in all is very obviously focused on the visual, dialogue as an addendum to what's happening in any given panel) but i liked all three extraordinarily much, particularly as part of my quest to read as many kinds of comics as i can and really see what the medium's got to offer.

i'm not one for bats, as we all know, but one modern mature book i did enjoy is arkham city: order of the world -- the six-issue miniseries that ended a few months ago and follows a bunch of escaped arkham patients (of the very obscure variety) and the doctor trying to hide them from the cops, it all veers into very occult territory (arkham as a sentient part of the city and such) but it's beautifully drawn and i think one of the very few modern books to manage 90s vertigo-style surrealism.

and speaking of modern stuff, there's always ram v and his astounding work -- i'd especially recommend the many deaths of laila starr from boom studios, which is steeped in magical realism and follows the embodiment of death being fired from her job & living in mumbai, and the swamp thing from dc (no context needed from any previous swampy books, it's standalone!).

otherwise, there's always various elseworlds miniseries like jsa: the liberty file 2000 and jsa: the unholy three 2003, each a two-issue mini set in a noir-tinted world of wwii espionage. or, if you have any interest in war stories at all, there's enemy ace: war idyll and its exploration of the stark contrasts between wwi & the vietnam war and its gorgeous gorgeous art.

there's a lot and i haven't even gotten into humour books yet (like all of keith giffen's repertoire but particularly ambush bug titles!) or some of the usual suspects (watchmen is worth the hype, it's extraordinary!) BUT i hope you find something you like in here and if not, feel free to give me more specifics and i'll try to think of something! enjoy!!!! <3

#asks #daydreamerdrew #<3333333

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

take my hand, take my whole life too

A/N: i missed the flower husbands so much that i wrote the majority of this in my phone's notes app when at my grandma's. also i think we were robbed of a sacrifice scene >:) (title is from the song "Can't Help Falling In Love" cause my grandma loves Elvis and we were listening to it while i was writing this)

Warnings: violence, kidnapping, near death experiences, human sacrifice, character death in dream, nightmares, fear of death (specifically of leaving someone behind), cuddling, forehead kisses, teasing/banter, crying (despite all the warnings i SWEAR this fic is mostly fluff and makes up for the angst)

Summary: For someone who had experienced death twice already, Jimmy would think he would have nothing to fear when it came to death. Or maybe those experiences made his fear more valid. But it wasn't really dying that scared him, it was who he would leave behind. Although if he was being honest, his own death was only his second biggest fear. His main fear was losing Scott.

-

It was dark when they came- setting their wall ablaze, weapons flashing and red banners waving. Jimmy put up quite the fight but was quickly disarmed, and Scott dropped his weapons when he saw the drawn bow aimed at his husband's head. Martyn was quick to bind Scott's hands behind his back, while Ren kept a sword pointed at Scott's throat. Skizz and Impulse grabbed either one of Jimmy's arms to hold him back. Etho kept the bow trained at his head for good measure- not that Jimmy would have dreamed of moving. Not when Ren's blade was close enough to graze Scott's neck.

"Sorry about this," Impulse murmured. Jimmy couldn't care less about Impulse's apology. He clearly had chosen his side, no matter how much he claimed to be a double agent for them. 

"What do you want?" Scott asked, sounding surprisingly calm for having a sword pointed at him, but Jimmy could tell from his stiff posture and clenched fists that he was trying to keep himself from trembling.

"We've come for your tribute. You'll give it to us, or we’ll take it from you, one way or another," Ren said with an evil grin, and Jimmy didn't like how he looked at Scott one bit. 

"We gave you your rabbit's foot, what more do you want?!" Jimmy demanded, straining against Skizz and Impulse. Etho readied his bow, but it wasn't until Martyn roughly pulled Scott against him and put the blade of his axe against Scott's throat that Jimmy stopped struggling.

"Not yet, my hand. We need to be at the altar for that," Ren said, causing Jimmy's blood to run cold. They were going to sacrifice Scott. And he was going to have to watch.

“He has two lives left, my liege. We could afford to kill him once- but if his red knows what’s good for him, we won’t have to,” Martyn replied, looking to Jimmy with a cruel glint in his eyes. He scowled, but stayed put as he nervously looked to Scott. Jimmy could tell Scott was trying to put on a brave face for him, but he was noticeably pale and his eyes kept darting between the bow aimed at Jimmy’s head and the diamond axe hovering at his own throat.

It felt like Jimmy had barely blinked and they were within the Dogwarts walls. He was stood in front of the altar, Skizz and Impulse still on either side of him. Etho was off to one side, bow slung over his shoulder, but he kept a hand on the hilt of his sword as he eyed Jimmy warily. Ren stood in front of Jimmy, but he could still see the scene of the altar clearly.

Martyn shoved Scott to his knees, then with a firm grip on his teal colored hair, he forced his head down. Scott grimaced at the treatment of his hair, but kept his head down when Martyn removed his hand. Scott's eyes met Jimmy's, and it was like everything else drifted away. No altar, no Dogwarts. Just Scott and Jimmy. The terror was clear in Scott's eyes, but he gave Jimmy a reassuring smile despite that. Jimmy wanted to stay in that moment forever, with Scott's gentle smile and the fantasy that maybe everything would be okay. But reality came crashing back in with the glint of a diamond axe poised in the air. It swung down to its target-

And Jimmy woke up with a scream. He sat bolt upright in bed, chest heaving and the events of his dream circling through his head with a startling amount of realism. It was like he could see his husband's blood spattered on the stones of the altar, even if he woke up before it could actually happen. It... it didn't happen... right? Jimmy scrambled out of his bed and up the stairs- he had to be sure.

He ran to Scott's home across the pond, quickly making his way up the side of the mountain to the door. Taking a shaky breath, he quietly opened Scott's door, and closed it just as softly behind him. He walked to Scott's bedroom, and breathed out a sigh of relief at the sight of his husband sleeping soundly in his loft. A fond, soft smile came to Jimmy's face as he watched his husband’s chest rise and fall. Scott was fine. Dogwarts hadn't sacrificed him.

Scott stirred, even though Jimmy had tried to be quiet, and sleepily blinked his eyes open. He propped himself up on a forearm, his other hand rubbing his eyes. Scott's hair was a mess, and Jimmy couldn't help but smile at the sight. Scott was always poised and presentable- seeing his husband a little ruffled from sleep was rather adorable.

"Jimmy? What're you- c'mere," Scott said, quickly giving up on getting answers to instead make grabby hands at Jimmy. With a laugh, Jimmy climbed up the ladder to his bed to nestle in beside Scott. He had barely laid down before Scott smushed his face inelegantly against Jimmy's chest with a pleased hum. Jimmy chuckled and wrapped his arms around him as he quickly drifted off again. Jimmy felt sleep tugging at him insistently, despite the rude awakening he had gotten. With a kiss to the top of Scott's head, Jimmy fell asleep, at peace knowing that his husband was safe in his arms.

-

Jimmy awoke to a weight stirring on top of him. His eyes slowly fluttered open to see a head of teal hair resting on his chest. Jimmy couldn't help but run a hand through Scott's hair with a likely ridiculously sappy smile. Scott let out a soft, startled sound and tilted his head to look up at Jimmy with mild confusion. His expression softened when he realized who was holding him, but he still looked rather perplexed.

"Jimmy? When did you get here? Did you sneak into bed with me?" Scott asked with a mischievous grin. Jimmy rolled his eyes. 

"Scott, we're married. Sharing a bed is hardly scandalous. And do you seriously not remember waking up and making grabby hands at me until you could latch onto me like an octopus?" Jimmy asked with a laugh. Scott's cheeks tinged pink, and he laughed nervously.

"Did I actually?" Scott asked, sounding a little flustered. 

"You did! You looked like you were gonna pout if I didn't cuddle you instantly," Jimmy replied with a grin. 

"I can't believe I'm being bullied by my own husband," Scott huffed, burying his face in Jimmy's chest.

"Guess I could just leave then..." Jimmy teased, shifting like he was going to move away. Scott made a disgruntled sound in the back of his throat, holding onto Jimmy tighter. Jimmy laughed, hand gently running through Scott's hair to reassure him that he wasn't going anywhere. 

"So why were you in my house in the middle of the night before I apparently demanded cuddles?" Scott asked. Jimmy's hand stilled in Scott's hair, flashes of the nightmare coming back to him in the form of lifeless blue eyes and cruel laughter from their enemies. Scott peered up at him, and with an almost wounded sound he shuffled closer so that they were eye to eye, a hand coming up to wipe away tears that Jimmy hadn't even realized were falling.

"Nightmare. Had to make sure you were alright," Jimmy said softly. Scott smiled, gentle as he had in Jimmy's dream, then shifted up to kiss his forehead before nestling back down beside him, foreheads resting against each other and noses practically touching. 

"I'm here. You're here. We're together. It'll be alright," Scott said, voice gentle yet determined. Jimmy frowned slightly.

"You know it can't stay that way forever," Jimmy said. He was on red, Scott was on green. Odds were high that Scott would outlive him. Scott frowned right back at him.

"Then let's not worry about forever. Let's just enjoy the here and now," Scott said, more determined than before. Jimmy couldn't help but smile, and Scott returned the smile easily.

"I think I like the sound of here and now," he said softly. 

"Good! Because the here and now includes cuddling," Scott chirped with a grin, ducking his head down to where Jimmy’s neck and shoulder met. Jimmy chuckled, holding his husband tighter and burying his nose in his hair. They couldn't lie in bed forever, there were things they needed to do with their day- but after all, Scott said they should focus on the here and now. And that was exactly what Jimmy intended to do.

-

MCYT Fic Taglist (lmk if you wanna be added/removed): @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @space-ace123

#3rd life smp #3rd life smp fanfic #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #mcyt #flower husbands my beloved #fluff #hurt/comfort #sage writes

[i-did]

I would like to hear more of your opinions on fandom depictions of Neil, if you don't mind! Your post made me realize some things I wasn't even aware of when reading aftg fic!!

Yeah sure I have a lot of thoughts on this. I think this is an overall fandom issue and not just an aftg fandom issue, but the feminization of neil as well as the ironing out of his personality to make it more palatable is definitely a thing.

I've noticed in a lot of fics hes a lot friendlier, a lot less distrusting, and a lot more oblivious. I also noticed the amount of demand for vixen neil, and neil in dresses and skirts and crop tops, neil crying and being vulnerable isn't a challenge on traditional masculinity because andrew and the other guy foxes don't receive nearly the same amount of demand.

There is heavy emphasis on people wanting not just neil but andrew to be softer, and while that's okay, it's important to remember the moral of aftg is that trauma makes some people hard, and intense and not traditionally likeable, and that those people aren't broken and don't need to be fixed. So when people just, ignore that and make andrew and neil a lot softer, neil always sitting in andrews lap and other things, lots of expressions of PDA, and other out of charter moments, it erases the idea nora was trying to convey.

I've stated before about how the fandom also often doesn't mention body hair but when it does its andrew having facial hair and neil having less typically, but also there is usually emphasis on andrew having a deeper voice than neil, who sometimes gets written almost as whiney and petulant or pouty.

-nsft text below-

I also think there is an overall lack of understanding of mlm culture in fandom which is largely a women's space. I won't go into detail here but how pwp is written (especially a lot of the trans andrew or neil ones) are not with a mlm gaze in mind, after all if it was proper gay porn then only mlm would be turned on by it, but the consumer in mind isn't mlm at all, both because the authors are almost always not mlm, but the readers aren't as well. There is emphasis on neil being more vocal and whining, mewling, whimpering, and moaning, all common in how straight porn treats the woman, while andrew is emphasized in being a lot more quiet, maybe grunting and groaning.

Lingerie is not common in gay porn outside of fanfiction, jock straps?? Thats a thing thats a huge thing, but in all the pwp I've seen of them in their exy gear I haven't seen it mentioned before, not a cup or jock strap or anything like that.

Neil is also the one being put into the lingerie and there is emphasis on him feeling pretty rather than handsome and him being petite and slim rather than a bulky athlete

There is also an overall lack in realism in preparation and dynamics that are physically impossible or unsafe but thats a whole other thing.

This is just off of the top of my head, I can get into the fetishization of trans andrew fics another time thats a whole other thing, but yeah this is just my unprepared thoughts and observations I've noticed.

Fanart also tends to lack the men having bulges, i respect trans hc but i have possibly never seen a flaccid penis in running shorts neil is wearing. They don't go away they sit there and take up space.

-end nsft text-

I have more to say when it comes to the dealings with trauma in fanfiction but for another time. I also have a huge rant about how fanon deals with the race in fics, both nickys canon race as well as the fanon everyone else's race

Overall, people can write what they want to write, and fiction is fiction and i cannot stop anyone from doing anything, and people can interpret the characters how they want. But when writing fiction, the authors own biases can slip though, the charters are written by them after all. An author who writes a torture scene isnt someone who has done that, but an author who writes let's say nicky as even more predatory, slutty, stereotypically gay and "ayeyeyye" in fanfic is unknowingly being racist and homophobic.

A person existing in real life fitting steryotypes is one thing, I've been told like once a week that im stereotypically gay since I've been alive, and have been under a lot of fire for being both "too mexican" and "not mexican enough" but an author who is not mlm and is white can still fall into these pre conceived notions they don't realize they have. There is no such thing as a real life queer couple being heteronormative, but someone else writing one can be because they're not real people, they're characters.

Why does this dynamic appeal to you? Are you projecting? In what way? Why do you think x character is more passive and y is more aggressive? Are they like that in canon ?

When quarantine started I threw myself into aftg even more, but quickly became depressed and felt gross and watched, I felt lonely as an mlm and isnt white in a dominantly white wlw/wlm fandom. Most of tumblr is queer white women dominant tbh, in the same way its American dominant, and fandom is like that too. I still have a hard time talking to my friends who aren't mlm about fandom stuff sometimes because I will tell them something bothers me and I'm not sure they understand or take it seriously. I was so depressed because my personal escapism was making me feel worse.

My depression has gotten better since then, but I still get very uncomfortable with the word "twink" being applied to not just neil, but now any queer man, especially when not said by someone mlm.

Okay I'm gonna stop here lol this was a longer ramble than planned. Ah. Don't cancel me don't twist my words I swear I don't care what others do this is just my observations

#aftg #all for the game #neil josten #andrew minyard #the foxhole court #tfc #andreil #fandom politics #ask #mailob #fandom psychology

[porcupine-girl]

This is long and contains more theater history than you probably want in a meta post but here it is anyhow!

Okay, here is my totally insane out-there theory that I shouldn’t be typing up, I should be editing and posting my lectures for tomorrow but here we are.

The pie scene that’s been released (see here) has a few things going on besides Dean being weirdly okay with Cas gone, more okay than Sam:

In the background we’ve got a truck that says Dabb’s Pies. Could just be a cute shoutout. Could be more.

Dean’s very first lines are “Oh, I don’t have a choice. This is my destiny.” This is the man who literally just spent an entire season freaking the fuck out over his lack of free will. Sure, Dean might make a joke about this, but the writers chose this to be (most likely) the very first thing he says one episode after finally shaking off destiny to get real free will?

Sam acts like Dean is crying and Dean responds as if he is trying to hide the fact that he’s crying when... he’s clearly not? At all? We’ve seen Dean cry so many times and it is not happening here?

(I say it’s probably the first thing Dean says in the episode because a) the scenes they release are almost always very very early in the episode and b) the music sounds like what they play when we come out of the cold open into a goofy Sam & Dean scene.)

Also do not forget that between the promo pics and the actual promo they seem to at some point deal with people who are very plainly dressed up as monsters but may or may not be monsters underneath. The initial photo took me to very meta places to start with, and it’s only gotten worse.

Okay so like, here are my crazy fucking thoughts that probably have nothing to do with what will actually happen:

Sam and Dean, of course, don’t actually have free will. They are still characters in a TV show written by other people. Dabb, in this case.

It’s Dabb’s Pies! Dabb is the one who caused the pie festival, and who is causing Sam and Dean to go there and eat pie!

My initial thought when I saw that photo, as it says, was “Did Brecht direct this episode?” Brecht was a playwright in the first half of the 20th century whose whole thing was breaking down the 4th wall. At the time theater tried to be as realistic as possible - hiding lights with set pieces, all sorts of stuff - in an attempt to make the audience forget they’re watching a play and get full immersion.

Brecht said “but what if we did not that?” and worked to make it explicitly clear to the audience that they are definitely watching a play and not real life. The movement was called “epic theater” or “dialectical theater” and the goal was to make the audience aware of their place as the audience and think critically about the thing they are watching as a play that was written and is being produced with the intention of communicating with them.

Brecht and others used a lot of techniques for this, from writing narrators and other 4th-wall-breaks into the plays to making it obvious that what you’re seeing are set pieces and props and not real things. Having what is obviously a man in a black costume with a skull mask play a monster (possibly a floating skull) would be right up his alley.

@shinychimera had a great comment on that post saying “They could squeeze a bit more meta in if it’s a real crew member playing something like a kuroko stagehand (from kabuki) who’s been pulled into the story…“

Kabuki is another theater tradition that explicitly does not try for anything like realism. You probably know it for its elaborate costumes and makeup, but yes, one part of it is that stagehands regularly come onstage to move things etc, dressed all in black and you’re supposed to pretend they’re invisible.

So anyhow what I’m saying is that what that photo SCREAMS at me is fourth-wall-breaking, meta, theatrical traditions that do those things.

I think the episode starts with what we’ve got here - Sam and Dean are moving on with their lives, probably on a pretty standard MOTW hunt, blissfully unaware that they are still not 100% free.

Somehow, this is going to start breaking down, Truman Show-style. I don’t know exactly how. A crew member wanders into the shot? Whatever.

From there it devolves into something super-meta and SUPER-trippy.

They realize that Cas is only in the Empty because the writers put him there, but somehow the fact that in real life Cas actually has affected the narrative in ways the writers didn’t expect is addressed. Cas loving Dean literally is something the writers never intended to be there but that grew organically because of who he is. Maybe same for Dean loving him back? Or maybe that doesn’t get addressed til later.

So now Dean knows that Cas really is the only real thing in his life and they gotta get him back.

However they get him back is gonna be, again, super trippy. They have to fight monsters like these, that are clearly not their-world-monsters but are people from our world dressed up as monsters.

They probably have to go through either Cas or Dean’s memories or both.

Dabb himself likely appears on-camera to talk to them at some point.

The one barn that that photo looks the most like to me is the one in On the Head of a Pin, which is one place where Cas could’ve died but didn’t (unclear whether it’s where they initially intended for him to die, sources conflict).

So maybe we’ll get a tour of the places where Cas’s love for Dean changed the narrative. Maybe Dabb himself will even explain them to us.

At some point, whether by Dabb himself or not, it will be explicitly mentioned that fans helped shape this, that we saw what was happening in Cas before they did.

IDK how this mindfuck ends but there is definitely kissing and Dean realizing that he’s been pushing down his feelings and denying them to fit a mold that the writers created for him years ago that doesn’t fit anymore.

So, uh, there you go. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#spn speculation #spn 15x20 #andrew dabb #why lamp #long post

[vostokovasmelina]

— 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝟑𝐂. (𝐬.𝐰.)

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢  |  𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢 | 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

characters: fem!reader; sam wilson; archibald the tabby cat; sarah wilson

word count: 3.1k+

warning: mentions and descriptions of alcohol, death, grief, trauma, therapy, depression – i call this post-snap realism

series summary: after the blip, sam wilson gets home to an unpleasant surprise - his key doesn’t fit the lock anymore and his apartment is now inhabited by a stranger and a grumpy feline. however, the unusual encounter is only the beginning of their post-blip lives and the reader soon learns that what life takes away, it can give back in the most particular ways.

a/n: the ending is a dark unedited mess, so proceed with caution

Taking a cautious sip of your hot beverage, you watched this absolute gatecrasher of a man trying to make up his mind about whatever he was so confused about – Sam kept looking all around your apartment as if searching for something he had left there, his slightly lost and disoriented expression sending a sudden wave of guilt rushing over you. Now that you thought about it, it really must have sucked absolute cheese for him to come home hoping he could finally have that huge cup of strong black coffee he had been anticipating ever since having defeated that enormous purple bastard from Outer Space, only to find that his coffee machine was long gone and now this random lady with a philodendron problem and a judgmental cat were inhabiting the place with absolutely no room left for him whatsoever. It did sound tragic when you put it that way.

However, it really wasn’t your fault that you had needed to find a brand new residence approximately five years before. He really should have checked in with someone to make sure he still had somewhere to go home to. You were quite clearly the real victim here. And Lord only knew how poor Archie was going to process all the excitement of the day.

For a few seconds, you contemplated whether or not to put your thoughts into words, and eventually decided against it for the time being. The man had just helped save the world a few days before, after all, and out of what? Good conscience? Personally not for you, but you could appreciate it in others. And it would have been a real shame to die right when your fan-favourite succulents and killer new posting schedule had been attracting more Instagram followers than ever before. Thanks to the savior complex flaming inside of the gentleman standing before you though, the regular civilian had luckily escaped such terrible hardships. And special thanks to approximately a thousand and one other superheroes. Oh, and to an African country filled with similarly public-spirited people.

For a few awkwardly long seconds neither of you said a word. Sam kept looking around and you watched him look around, slowly lowering your mug onto the table and tilting your head slightly to the left. Weird how Sarah had never mentioned the brother believed to be dead for the last five years was this handsome. It is unfair, really. Some people are just naturally gorgeous no matter the shitty kitchen lighting, that tiny confused frown that had been sitting on their face for the last half hour, or those shiny black bugs for eyes tearing up ever so slightly to snitch on a long repressed yawn.

“Now that the drama is over and the Avengers as such are non-existent – have you considered a career in modeling yet?”

Sam snapped his head towards you with such force and speed that for a moment you were afraid you’d have to spend the rest of the afternoon sewing it back on his neck. You grabbed your mug still pretty much filled to the brim with tea and raised it back up to your mouth to hide your lingering half-smile behind a faded portrait of baby Archie on the ivory porcelain.

“Just saying, I would buy anything for this face on the package alone,” you continued with the confidence of a woman who hasn’t got a single drop of shame left in her body. But it was fine ‘cos you didn’t actually mean it, right? It was all just a joke, an attempt at lightening the mood and snapping him out of his puzzled melancholy. And that tiny flutter of your heart upon hearing Sam’s perfect little chuckle was but a momentary malfunction of the organ. The incident was purely physiological. No contribution from any emotional factors. It was simply an innocent coincidence that these two, completely unrelated things had co-occured.

So when your gazes met, you didn’t tear yours away in embarrassment – you stood your ground, completely unaffected and unbothered, ignoring the increasingly hot sensation in your cheeks when you saw Sam raise a cheeky eyebrow at you. Before even more damage could have been done, however, you decided to cut the party short.

“Oh, no. Don’t get your hopes up, Birdman. I simply couldn’t keep watching you in your deeply disturbed state.”

Very, very smooth. Cleared of all suspicion. Good job.

“Wow. Okay. That was cruel,” Sam scoffed and gave emphasis to his words by bringing up his right palm dramatically to his chest, right above his now most definitely broken heart. The overall effect got ruined by an annoyingly goofy grin in the end and before you even realised, you had already reached out for your massive mug again to drown your own erupting smile in the hot liquid.

In the silence that followed, however, you saw Sam’s smile fall ever so slightly, as if exhaustion or worry were holding onto the corners of his lips, physically tugging them down, and you shifted slightly uncomfortably in your seat. It was time you had stopped messing around with the poor guy.

“Look, I know this is weird but I’m sure we can find a solution. Just call Sarah so she can stop worrying now,” you suggested, finishing your tea and pushing the now empty mug to the middle of the table before leaning back in your seat.

“Ugh, yeah,” Sam started slowly, squatting down to get his mobile and the charger out of his massive sports bag. “Can I plug this in somewhere?”

You blinked at him a couple of times while he waited patiently for your answer. You could only imagine the number of missed calls and unread texts waiting for Sam on his phone, but you decided you didn’t know him enough to give him a lecture on behalf of his sister. So you just gave him a tired nod and gestured lazily towards your battered kitchen counter, Sam following your direction with his gaze.

“Above the microwave. Oh, and the socket farthest to the left–”

“–doesn’t work. I remember.” Sam flashed another exhausted but friendly smirk at you above his shoulder, and you allowed yourself to return the gesture to his back once he wasn’t watching.

“Right, sorry. Forgot I was the intruder here,” you joked, delighted to earn another one of those irritatingly lively chuckles of this man’s.

You seriously needed to get your shit together.

“Okay, while your phone is doing its thing, let’s call Sarah from mine, I guess” you continued, jumping up from your chair the moment Sam returned to the table and you headed towards your worn little couch where you scratched Archie gently behind his right ear. “Where have you put my phone, you dirty old man?” You cooed, smiling softly while sliding your hands under the cheap cushions and booping your irritated cat’s tiny nose when your fingers finally touched the cold metal you had been looking for.

Once seated again, you caught Sam staring at Archie, his eyes slightly narrowed in what appeared to be deep concentration. You furrowed your eyebrows and tilted your head, waiting for your uninvited guest to notice you.

“I don’t think your cat likes me too much,” he finally said, slowly tearing his gaze away from the pet feline’s and looking into your slightly more welcoming human eyes instead.

You chuckled dryly, turning around to see Archie in all his glory on the couch. He simply gave you an unbothered look before completely losing interest in the two of you, and he hopped of the couch, slowly making his way towards your bedroom where you knew he would bundle up under your bed on the cosy carpet. He had apparently decided it was time for his beauty sleep.

“Yeah, he’s like that with everyone. Nothing personal,” you assured Sam, who offered a tired half-smile in return. You cleared your throat gently, eyes fixed on your phone’s screen and fingers already searching for Sarah’s number. Once you had found it, you handed it to Sam whose only job left was to press the call button. You raised your eyebrows at him expectantly and he let out a sigh while reaching out for your mobile.

* * *

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to talk to Sarah. Quite the opposite, actually. But he was embarrassed. Sam knew full well how furious his sister was going to be. And honestly, rightfully so. He couldn’t argue with that. After all, she did say there had been something she wanted to talk to him about. And Sam did hang up on her without a passable excuse. And he did let his phone die on his way back home to Louisiana.

Yeah, he most probably wasn't going to be nominated for this year's Brother of the Year award.

Their last call had happened two days before. Two days is a long time without any news from a brother who had just returned after having been believed to be dead for the past five years. And if you had been to ask him, Sam wouldn’t have been able to tell you what had gotten into him either but ever since the Blip, something had not been exactly right. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what was going on, so he hadn’t brought it up to anyone, but his brain felt slow and foggy as if it hadn't had time to catch up yet.

Sometimes, Sam worried that the molecules in his brain had been mixed up and hadn't been put back into their original places in the process of the whole turning-into-dust-and-back-into-human-form-again thing.

It was a silly thought, yes, but with everything going on in the world, would it really be that hard to believe?

"Hey hon! What's up?" Sam's thought process was cut off by the endearing voice of his sister, and though he was aware all this affection was not directed towards him – given that he had called Sarah on your phone – his heart did swell upon hearing her again.

And then he said hi and it all went south from there.

Sarah was obviously pissed.

She asked Sam if he had any idea how many texts and missed calls she had left him, and no, he had no clue but if he had to guess, the number would have been way high up in the double digits.

Then she started going off on Sam, using different kinds of actually very creative euphemisms – which was a problem because Sam got so distracted by his sister's choice of words that her short, well-thought out rant had very little effect on him, but at least he had enough self-respect left to get his sister off speaker at this point.

"Look, Sarah, I know I messed up but I'm fine! I swear," he started, cutting his sister short while subconsciously picking at the skin around the nail on his index finger with his thumb. "What if I stop by Andy's and tell him to give me their best apple pie?" Sam added, hoping this promise would serve as an ice-breaker. Sarah did love her desserts. A lot. And Andy always gave a discount to the Wilson family, too.

When he heard his sister's tired sigh, Sam's heart gave a hopeful flutter, but he was rudely dragged back onto the ground on his way to cloud nine the very next second.

"I'm doing the shopping at the moment. Just got here and it's gonna take long," Sarah replied, annoyance poking through all her words. Then, the tension that had been dominating the pair's call suddenly seemed to evaporate as Sam sensed a weak shadow of a smile in her following sentence. "But that apple pie does sound good."

Sam couldn't help the grin that creeped its way onto his face and he didn't even care about Sarah's semi-serious threat, saying how they were nowhere near finished yet. He muttered out a quick sorry again, promised Sarah to give her regards to you and finished the call with a charming 'I love you' to which his sister replied with a snarky 'I bet' before hanging up with a promise that she would call again when she got home.

Sam let out a relieved chuckle before handing you back your phone and taking the final sip of his slightly lukewarm coffee, watching your bright red-nailed fingers tap away on the device, and he swallowed harder and probably louder than he had meant to. You just happened to put your phone down the very next second, so he tried to cover up the gulp by clearing his throat and shifting his gaze from your nails to your eyes.

Beautiful eyes.

Well shit.

"So, I guess you're staying," you started hesitantly, raising your eyebrows at Sam in a slightly impatient manner, which snapped him out of his blissful thoughts and thrust him back into reality.

Was he staying? He certainly had nowhere to go now that he was practically homeless and his sister was unable to welcome him in her own home for the next two hours, at least. But then again, you were a complete stranger whose afternoon he had just disrupted, and it didn't matter how weird it felt seeing you be so at home in his apartment because it wasn't his anymore. It was yours and you had all the right to kick Sam out and he had absolutely zero right to argue.

But, thankfully, he didn't have to.

"Which is fine, by the way. I did promise you an explanation, after all." Sam couldn't quite ignore the hint of dread behind your words and he was ready to object, to leave you alone and spend the rest of his afternoon doing God-knows-what, but then you offered him another cup of coffee followed by a tiny but honest smile, and Sam just couldn't bring himself to say no.

* * *

Sam Wilson was ridiculously easy to open up to.

It made you want to commit a crime.

His gaze was so intensely warm that after a while, you were looking at everything in your apartment but him just to avoid accidentally trauma dumping on him, especially when you got to the part about group therapy.

Because you had met Sarah at a group therapy session approximately four and a half years before.

It had been clear from the very first minute that neither of you had actually wanted to be there and that both of you had been forced into this situation. Sarah had been dragged to group by an overly enthusiastic co-worker of hers whose crush on the counselor had been probably more intense than the trauma she had suffered – she had lost a dog and her neighbor to the right whom she had always talked shit about behind his back. She was a nice enough woman, but considering that people had lost actual family in the Snap, her presence had always been mostly aggravating, to say the least.

In your case, it had been your grandmother who had bullied you into going to one of the sessions because 'she had the same rotten mentality when Miss Taylor told her to go but then she found it life-changing'. At this point, you had become so indifferent to everything in the world that you hadn't needed much convincing to go. You had told yourself it would be one session anyway after which you would have told Grandma Ethel that 'therapy was simply not for you' and could have been back to your usual Thursday evening routine consisting of a cheap bottle of red wine and depressing reruns of trashy British reality shows from the late 2000s.

The actual sessions had never worked for you. They might have if you had actually spoken up at any of them but you had never become quite ready to talk about your loss in front of a dozen other people, most of whom you had already known. But then you had met Sarah and something about her had made you feel secure, secure enough to talk about them for the first time, so you had started hanging out at a café not too far from the community center and it had become the best thing in your life.

"And the rest is history," you finished, getting up from your chair to put both yours and Sam's mug in the sink and watered your nearby plants while at it.

"I'm really glad Sarah had someone by her side," Sam commented and you could hear a hint of guilt in his words but you decided to ignore it. You simply nodded and muttered out a weak 'yeah', saying you were just as happy to have found a friend like Sarah.

Then Sam said something that made all the muscles in your body tense up and you froze completely for the next couple of seconds.

"And have you seen your family yet? Now that they've come back?"

It was an innocent question. He doesn't know the whole story. So calm down.

You slowly put down the glass you had used earlier to water your plants and tried with every particle in your body to put on the best toothpaste commercial-worthy smile you could force out of yourself before turning back towards Sam and answering his absolutely understandable question.

"Yeah!" No. "They're doing well, actually!" They're fucking dead.

Sam's genuinely happy smile was way too much to handle and if it hadn't been for a call from Sarah, you would have broken down in tears right in front of him the very next moment.

So instead of all that, you decided to turn right back around, pour yourself a huge glass of cold tapwater and down it in one breath while Sam finished his brief conversation with his sister. The stinging pain in your chest that followed was enough to distract your thoughts until he was finally at the door, saying goodbye and thanking your for the coffee and saying sorry for intruding and taking absolutely way too fucking long to finally leave.

"Hey, um... I could give you my number? If you ever need anything or..."

He can't be serious.

"Sure! You can, ugh, put it in my phone," you replied, your hands shaking dangerously as you reached into your back pocket for your mobile and handed it to Sam, who knew better than to comment on it.

Once finished, he returned your phone with one of those irritatingly joyful smiles of his and with a final 'see you around' Sam Wilson was off and you proudly patted yourself on the back for successfully holding it together until you finally reached your couch.

* * *

mini-series taglist – let me know if you want to be added

@softieyn

@mahvericks

@amirahiddleston

@fireghost-x

@samuelthomaswillson

@itsnottilly

@loveyhoneydovey

@songofcosplay

@titaniumstark

@falcons-wings

@claudiaatje

@srodulvroux

@annathesillyfriend

@lokiandbuckylove

mcu taglist – join here

@babymango-writes

@softieyn

@spencereidisabicon

@whutisthus

@katethecrazy

@swanimagines

@amirahiddleston

@remusflirts

@musicallisto

@skinny-bitch-juice

@teti-menchon0604

@anon-2837282

@sarai-ibn-la-ahad

@heart-eyes-horan

@lxncelot

@amortensie

@claudiaatje

@gimmelovepls

@raven-emxralds

@whovianayesha

@the-jess-life

#sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson headcanon #the falcon #the falcon x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #tfatws imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu mini series #mcu reader insert #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel reader insert #sarah wilson

[dallonm-archive]

HOW TO SWALLOW MATCHSTICKS | SHORT STORY UPDATES #5 & COLLECTION INTRO

[image description: a pale orange sky with dark orange clouds. In the middle, in white text, reads “HOW TO SWALLOW MATCHSTICKS”. /end id]

Hello y’all! Since I already mentioned this briefly, and I’m in a really good place with it, I thought I’d quickly actually introduce my collection title and talk about what it’s about!

Originally, I was going with the working title “How I Break My Bones”, but I didn’t like that the “I” suggested a singular POV in a title for the collection. Whilst brainstorming titles I came up with the line “I swallowed your matchsticks but you still set me alight” and was like what the fuck, that sounds like a poem line [I didn’t wrote poetry back then :)] but I loved the imagery so I just! Smacked them together! Also matchsticks apparently matchsticks are poisonous and that really enhanced the meaning. Funnily enough, the fact that matches start fires isn’t central to the title; fire isn’t an important image in the collection (except for one story), however burning is? But the burning imagery usually comes from mentions of sunlight rather than actual fire, which I think is very interesting and fitting for the collections Vibe.

I’m letting the collection grow thematically with the stories I write, but the central idea is self destructive behaviour, and decisions that are very very irrational to literally anyone except the main character(s). Some of them get to this from being pushed to their limit, but for others there’s a more continuous sense, that what we see is just part of a chain of self destructive behaviour that’s their normal. Lemon Teeth especially is interesting in that sense because there’s this general idea of “hey how the fuck are these two still alive”, whereas with, Tabby, the narrator is pushed to a limit they’re not even aware of until there’s consequences. The title plays with this idea of self destructive behaviour that’s actually out of defence: someone swallows matchsticks so they can’t be burnt, but the matchsticks poison them (the severity of that is also dependent on how many you swallow! I think my google history is really concerned that I’m eating matchsticks!). Your perception of reality tells you to do this irrational action so one consequence can’t happen, but you snap back into reality and realise the consequence of that action is actually far greater than the original fear, but it’s too late to reverse it. Also! A lot of WLW/femme NB characters is the goal, on the grounds of Haha I Do That. 

I try to keep this collection very fluid where all the stories are very individual, but are similar when it comes to core themes and it’s been very fun to develop! I also feel like visually this collection is very orange and red? Do NOT know what that means yet <3 but a lot of the stories are visually very hazy and sometimes dreamy, but the content itself is very dark. I’ve been playing around with this idea of “injecting” haziness into a narrators POV so their perception of reality warps and intensifies as the story progresses and we end up in High Reality Territory. I’ve talked about some of these before, but I’m going to go through the current stories I have in here in their current order under the cut - mainly because I find it very interesting to actually see them all in one place and how they function as a collective, and also to see how much it changes!  I also won’t have a taglist for this WIP, as I just use my general taglist for short story updates, so if you want updates then you can join that!

general taglist ; ask to be + or -! @kowlazovdi @avi-burton-writing @ryns-ramblings @kitblogsthings @ezrathings @aetherwrites @radiomacbeth @bijouxs @bookphobe @haldimilks @alicewestwater @bookpacking @shaelinwrites @harehearts @amnestys  @onlyganymede @theelectricfactory @write-like-babs @oceancold @veiliza @sidhewrites @wolf-oak @feverdreamwritings @oasis-of-you @coffeeandcalligraphy @cecilsstorycorner @howdy-writes @keira-is-writing @flip-phones​

content warnings for the stories in order that they appear: murder (ammonite) / fire (lemon teeth) / car accident (how to relax on class A) / toxic relationships (the name i gave her) / cults (and saturn, too + church mud). nothing is talked about in detail.

Disclaimer: These stories are my original work - plagiarism and any form of copying will not be tolerated.

[image description: two large rocks in the ocean, with waves crashing over them. in the middle, in white text, reads “AMMONITE (LAND’S END)”. /end id]

After finding washed up bones on the beach, Dennis pretends they belong to his missing wife Melody - and as he continues to talk to her, his innocence is brought into question.

This story means a lot to me because it was the first one I drafted post writing hiatus that felt like it actually resonated with the way my writing has changed. It was one of the easiest first drafts I’ve done, and editing is going pretty smoothly as well! I loved playing with the moral ambiguity element and creating this very eerie balance between “cold blooded killer” and “grieving husband” and as the author! I do not know whether he actually killed his wife or not! This is one of three stories that I should start submitting this month. 

[image description: a black background with 4 lemons in the centre - 3 whole, one cut in half. In the middle, in white text, reads “LEMON TEETH”. /end id]

A house narrates the night its inhabitants burn it to the ground, and tries to understand the human condition from their toxic, tangled relationship.

I drafted this after Ammonite and it ~sucked~. I went to edit in January because I wanted to submit it to a magazine ( <3 missed the deadline <3) and ended up rewriting the whole thing and it is SO much better. It’s gotten quite surrealist but I’ve never written surrealism so I don’t want to call it that yet? But I mean, some of the imagery + the fact that the narrator is a house experiencing complex thought is v surrealist! I want to fine tune that element more because when it comes to submissions I’ll need to actually determine whether it’s surrealism or not but I’m very excited to because out of all the stories this is the one I want published the most! I love it so much. I loved turning a bunch of wood into a character (they’re so sarcastic and mean?? love it), and Lawrence and Frances are perhaps one of THE most fucked up relationships I’ve written so far <3 

[image description: a silhouette of a cat against a dark orange background. In the middle, in white text, reads “TABBY”. /end id]

A reclusive man who’d rather exist as a phantom than a human notices the neighbours aren’t feeding their cat, and is sucked into a world that breaks the stillness of his own.

This is the only story here that has an update post that’s not outdated so you can check out more about this story HERE. In hindsight, I think this is the one that really drove where this collection is going the most; I had a lot of different thematic ideas in my head and drafting this naturally organised my thoughts and highlighted the most important ones to me. This also really helped me figure out the perception of reality in this collection and that’s also a central idea (and one of my favourites to explore). I’ve always said I love writing things that feel hazy, feel dreamy, but this story took that took a new level and I feel there’s a lot more depth now? Tabby felt neither like high realism nor realism,  it felt like reality with this “glow” that only the narrator seemed to be aware of. This glow reels the narrator into this dreamlike perception of reality to the point where he can’t distinguish the real world from his perception of it, and ends up doing things that he otherwise wouldn’t do had he had a clearer perception of what’s going on. It’s like dreamy reality: make it insidious! I read back on this draft the other day and I’m really excited to start editing, this is the third out of the 3 stories I’m aiming to get published first!

[image description: a single car in the middle of the road on a foggy night, with bright orange headlights. In the middle, in white text, reads “HOW TO RELAX ON CLASS A” /end id] 

Whilst trying to manage a bad trip, our narrator makes an unlikely friendship with the driver who just hit his best friend.

I’m currently drafting this, and will likely make an update post for it soon so I won’t talk to much about the story itself here. But if you want to know how the draft is going: it’s sure going! This is in 2nd person instructional which I’ve never written before and it is very difficult at times but also very fun. I can already tell this is the story that’ll need a lot of fine tuning and editing but I really love the premise and where it’s going. This is sort of an evolution of a short story I wrote in 2019 that sucked <3 but I only got the actual idea for the plot a couple months back. My only complaint right now is I’d like a new title because I don’t like this following the “How to __” structure when the collection already does that.

[image description: A black night sky. In the middle, in white text, reads “THE NAME I GAVE HER”. Below the text is 6 moons in different phases, all glowing yellow. /end id]

A woman tries to see her relationship outside of the rose-tinted glasses the night her and her girlfriend fake their deaths.

I wrote this around October but never finished it, and I think I still haven’t figured out the crux of this story or even how it’s meant to be told but I love it too much to let go and really wanna make it work. This is the first WLW story I wrote that’s like, clearly a WLW couple but it’s not about that, and that meant a lot to me. Like I always knew I could just write WLW characters existing but to actually write that, especially with such emotional complexity and also pain that’s not tied to their sexuality was really freeing for me. Also lesbians really are like “damn I need symbolic imagery in my queer story :/” and just write about the moon like the way this story is JUST a bunch of moon imagery and is also structured around the phases? Very sexy

[image description: the view of an orange and purple sky, with the sun rising behind a darker purple mountain. A tree’s shadow takes up the right side and bottom left corner. In the middle, in white text, reads “AND SATURN, TOO”. /end id]

I haven’t drafted this yet (I plan to after HTROCA) but it’s lived rent free in my head long enough to know I want it in this collection. This story chronicles our main character - an ace lesbian who might not know she’s ace yet?? - as she spends the summer on a commune her parents sent her to and I for one am loving having a second cult-y story to explore (although this isn’t explicitly a cult, it just has the undertones and the narrator makes it very clear how she feels about that). This was originally going to have a romance, but lately I’ve been really into the importance of presenting lesbian and sapphic identities beyond the relationship aspect and the element of personal/individual identity.  Like HTROCA, I want to have a full update post on this story one day so I won’t talk much about it now, but I am currently brainstorming it and I’m! Very obsessed with it!

[image description: a close up photo of an eye rotated sideways. The photo is filtered red and repeated and on the left hand side, flipped the opposite way. In the middle, in white text, reads “CHURCH MUD”. /end id]

We’ll pretend I didnt spend the last month talking shit about this title BUT for those who don’t know the origin story of my novel Revelations, Revelations is that it was meant to be a short story for my dissertation that quickly unravelled into what it is now. Since I’d already presented the concept to my advisor, I decided to turn it into a sort of “RR But With An Alternate Timeline/Inciting Incident” where Felix and Dorothy escaped the cult at the same time, at the height of their conflict and it got fucked up REAL quick. It was actually so fascinating because whilst it was definitely intentionally heightened, it felt like I was exploring both of their “dark rooms”, exploring a possibility that they would both happily ignore, but was very much almost a reality. I’m no longer doing Uni this year because of covid (I couldn’t stand another zoom lecture), so I don’t know if I can use this story next year but I really want to turn it into something. I just have to strip the RR elements from it and turn it into its own - my <3 third cult story <3. 

And that’s where we currently are! I’m not sure if I’ll do collection driven updates, since I just write whatever short stories come to mind and if they fit then great and if they don’t then great, but I might do one say 6 months from now just to see how much it’s changed. This is my primary WIP this year, as 2021 is the ~year of submissions~ for me and hopefully I’ll be able to share some of these stories with y’all soon!

#short stories #atlastracking #wip intro #how to swallow matchsticks #me introducing my collection after roman introduced theirs i am just a SHEEP!!!!!!

[1vintage]

Ocean Vuong on Metaphor

below is a transcript of an Instagram story from Ocean Vuong, available here in his story highlights under Metaphor.

Q: How do you make sure your metaphors have real depth?

metaphors should have two things: (1) sensory (visual, texture, sound, etc) connector between origin image and the transforming image as well as (2) a clear logical connector between both images. 

if you have only one of either, best to forgo the metaphor, otherwise it will seem forced or read like “writing” if that makes sense.

~

a lot of ya’ll asked for examples re:metaphor. I can explain better if I had 15 minutes of class time (apply to UMASS!). But essentially, metaphors that go awry can signal a hurried desire to be “literary” or “poetic” (ie “writing”), which can lose traction/trust with a reader. in other words, a metaphor is a detour—but that detour better lead to discoveries that alter/amplify the meaning of what is already there, so that a reader sees you as a servant of possibility rather than someone trying to prove that they are a “writer.” One is performative, the other exploratory. In this way, the metaphor acts as a virtual medium, ejecting the text’s optical realism into an “elsewhere”. But this elsewhere should inform the original upon our return. otherwise the journey would feel like an ejection from a crash rather than a curated journey toward more complex meaning.

example:

“The road curves like a cat’s tail.”

This is a weak metaphor because the transforming image (tail) does not amplify/alter the original. The transfer of meaning flattens and dies. Logic is weak or moot: A cat’s tail does not really change the nature of the road. You can certainly add to this with a few more expository sentences which might rescue the logic—but by then you’re just doing cpr on your metaphor.

Sensory, too, is weak: a cat’s tail has little optical resemblance to a road other than being curved (roads are not furry, for one.)

So this is 0 for 2 and should be scrapped. (Just my opinion though! Not a rule!)

okay so what about:

“The road runs between two groves of pine, like the first stroke of a buzzcut.”

this is better. the optical sensory of the transforming image (a clipper thru a head of hair) matches well with the original.

but the logic feels arbitrary. again it doesn’t substantially alter the original.

in the end this is just an “interesting image” but not strong enough to keep I’d say.

Now here’s one from Sharon Olds:

“The hair on my father’s arms like blades of molasses.”

Sensory connector: check. A man’s dark hair indeed can look like blades (also suggestive of grass) of molasses.

Logical connector: check. the father is both sharp and sweet. Something once soft and sticky about him (connotations of youth) sweets, has now hardened the confection no longer fresh etc.

It’s an ambitious metaphor that is packed with resonance. In other words, it does worlds of work and actually deepens the more you dit with it. A metaphor that actually invites you to put the book down, think on it, absorb it, before returning. a good metaphor uses detours to add power to the text. poor metaphors distract you from the text and leave you bereft, laid to the side.

lastly, the prior examples are technically “similes” but I believe similes reside under the umbrella of metaphor. although a simile is a demarcation, ie: this is “like” that. but this is “not”, ontologically, that.

however, I think something happens in the act of reading wherein we collapse the “bridge” and the mind automatically forges synergy between the two images, so that all similes, once read, “act” like metaphors in the mind.

but again this is all subjective. you might have a better way of going about it.

Another very ambitious metaphor is this one from Eduardo C. Corral:

“Moss intensifies up the tree, like applause.”

This is a masterful metaphor, risky and requires a lot of faith, restraint, and experience to pull it off.

Difficult mainly because we now see a surrealist “distortion” of the sensory realm: origin IMAGE (moss) is paired with transforming SOUND (applause).

There is now a leap in comparable elements. But the adherence to our two vital factors are still present.

Sensory: moss, though silent, grows slowly (the word “intensifies” does major work here becuz it foreshadows the transforming element). Applause, too, grows gradually, before dying down.

Logic: the growth of the moss suggests spring, lushness, life, resilience, and connotes anticipatory hope, much like applause. In turn, applause modifies the nature of moss and imbues, at least this moss, with a sense of accomplishment, closure, it’s refreshment a cause for celebration.

God I love words.

~

I’ve gotten so many responses from folks the past few days asking for a deeper dive into my personal theory on metaphor.

So I'm taking a moment here to do a more in-depth mini essay since my answer to the Q/A the other day was off the cuff (I was typing while walking to my haircut appointment).

What I’m proposing, of course, is merely a THEORY, not a gospel, so please take whatever is useful to you and ignore what isn’t.

This essay will be in 25 slides. I will save this in my IG highlights after 24 hrs.

Before I begin I want to encourage everyone to forge your own theories and praxi for your work, especially if you’re a BIPOC artist.

Often, we are perceived by established powers as merely “performers,” suitable for a (brief) stint on stage—but not thinkers and creators with our own autonomy, intelligence, and capacity to question the framework in our fields.

It is not lost on me, as a yellow body in America, with the false connotations therein, where I’m often seen as diminutive, quiet, accommodating, agreeable, submissive, that I am not expected to think against the grain, to have my own theories on how I practice my art and my life.

I became a writer knowing I am entering a field (fine arts) where there are few faces like my own (and with many missing), a field where we are expected to succeed only when we pick up a violin or a cello in order to serve Euro-Centric “masterpieces.”

For so long, to be an Asian American “prodigy” in art was to be a fine-tuned instrument for Mozart, Bach, and Beethoven.

It is no surprise, then, that if you, as a BIPOC artist, dare to come up with your own ideas, to say “no” to what they shove/have been shoving down your throat for so long, you will be infantilized, seen as foolish, moronic, stupid, disobedient, uneducated, and untamed.

Because it means the instrument that was once in the service of their “work” has now begun to speak, has decided, despite being inconceivable to them, to sing its own songs.

I want you, I need you, to sing with me. I want to hear what you sound like when it’s just us, and you sound so much like yourself that I recognize you even in the darkest rooms, even when I recognize nothing else. And I know your name is “little brother” or “big sister,” or “light bean,” or “my-echo-returned-to-me-intact.” And I smile.

In the dark I smile.

Art has no rules—yes—but it does have methods, which vary for each individual. The following are some of my own methods and how I came to them.

I’m very happy ya’ll are so into figurative language! It’s my favorite literary device because it reveals a second IDEA behind an object or abstraction via comparison.

When done well, it creates what I call the “DNA of seeing.” That is, a strong metaphor “Greek for “to carry over”) can enact the autobiography of sight. For example, what does it say about a person who sees the stars in the night sky—as exit wounds?

What does it say about their history, their worldview, their relationship to beauty and violence? All this can be garnered in the metaphor itself—without context—when the comparative elements have strong multifaceted bonds.

How we see the world reveals who we are. And metaphors explicate that sight.

My personal feeling is that the strongest metaphors do not require context for clarity. However, this does not mean that weaker metaphors that DO require context are useless or wrong.

Weak metaphors use context to achieve CLARITY.

Strong metaphors use context to SUPPORT what’s already clear.

BOTH are viable in ANY literary text.

But for the sake of this deeper exploration into metaphors and their gradients, I will attempt to identify the latter.

I feel it is important for a writer to understand the STRENGTHS of the devices they use, even when WEAKER versions of said devices can achieve the same goal via different means.

Sometimes we want a life raft, sometimes we want a steam boat—but we should know which is which (for us).

My focus then, will be specifically the ornamental or overt metaphor. That is, metaphors that occur inside the line—as opposed to conceptual, thematic, extended metaphors, or Homeric simile (which is a whole different animal).

My thinking here begins with the (debated) theory that similes reside under metaphors. That is, (non-Homeric) similes, behave cognitively, like metaphors.

This DOES NOT mean that similes do not matter (far from it), as we’ll see later on, but that the compared elements, once read, begin to merge in the mind, resulting in a metaphoric OCCURRENCE via a simileac vehicle.

This thinking is not entirely my own, but one informed by my interest in Phenomenology. Founded by Edmund Husserl in the early 20th century and later expanded by Heidegger, Phenomenology is, in short, interested in how objects or phenomena are perceived in the mind, which renewed interest in subjectivity across Europe, as opposed to the Enlightenment’s quest for ultimate, finite truths.

By the time Husserl “discovered” this, however, Tibetan Buddhists scholars have already been practicing Phenomenology as something called Lojong, or “mind training,” for over half a millennia.

Whereas Husserl believes, in part, that a finite truth does exist but that the myopic nature of human perception hinders us from seeing all of it, Tibetan Lojong purports that no finite “truth” exists at all.

In Lojong, the world and its objects are pure perception. That is, a fly looks at a tree and sees, due to its compound eyes, hundreds of trees, while we see only one. For Buddhists, neither fly nor human is “correct” because a fixed truth is not present. Reality is only real according to one’s bodily medium.

I’m keenly interested in Lojong’s approach because it inheritably advocates for an anti-colonial gaze of the world. If objects in the real are not tenable, there is no reason they should be captured, conquered or pillaged.

In other words, we are in a “simulation” and because there is no true gain in acquiring something that is only an illusion, it is better to observe and learn from phenomena as guests passing through this world with respect to things—rather than to possess them.

The reason I bring this up is because Buddhist philosophy is the main influence of 8th century Chinese and 15th-17th century Japanese poetics, which fundamentally inform my understanding of metaphor.

While I appreciate Aristotle’s take on metaphor and rhetoric in his Poetics, particularly his thesis that strong metaphors move from species to genus, it is not a robust influence on my thinking.

After all, like sex and water, metaphors have been enjoyed by humans across the world long before Aristotle-- and evidently long after. In fact, Buddhist teachings, which widely employ metaphor and analogy, predates Aristotle by roughly 150 years.

Now, to better see how Buddhist Phenomenology informs the transformation of images into metaphor, let’s look at this poem by Moritake.

“The fallen blossom flies back to its branch. No, a butterfly.”

When considering (western-dominated) discourse surrounding analogues using “like” or “is”, is this image a metaphor or a simile?

It is technically neither. The construction of this poem does not employ metaphor or simile.

And yet, to my eye, a metaphor, although not present, does indeed HAPPEN.

What’s more, the poem, which is essentially a single metaphor, is complete.

No further context is needed for its clarity. If context is needed for a metaphor, then the metaphor is (IMO) weak—but that doesn’t mean the writing, as a whole, is bad. Weak metaphors and good context bring us home safe and sound.

Okay, so what is happening here?

By the time I read “butterfly,” my mind corrects the blossom so that the latter image retroactively changes/informs the former. We see the blossom float up, then re-see it as a butterfly. The metaphoric figuration is complete with or without “like” or “is.”

Buddhism explains this by saying that, although a text IS thought, it does not THINK. We, the readers, must think upon it. The text, then, only curates thinking.

Words, in this way, begin on the page but LIVE in the mind which, due to limited and subjective scope of human perception, shift seemingly fixed elements into something entirely new.

The key here is proximity. Similes provide buffers to mediate impact between two elements, but they do not rule over how images coincide upon reading. One the page, text is fossil; in the mind, text is life.

Nearly 5000 years after Maritake, Ezra Pound, via Fenolosa, reads Maritake’s poem and writes what becomes the seminal poem on Imagism in 1912, which was subsequently highly influential to early Modernists:

“The apparition of these faces in the crowd: Petals on a wet, black bough.”

Like Maritake, Pound’s poem technically has no metaphor or simile. However, he adds the vital colon after “crowd,” which arguably works as an “equal sign”, thereby implying metaphor. But the reason why he did not use “are” or “is” is telling.

Pound understood, like Maritake, that the metaphor would occur in the mind, regardless of connecting verbiage due to the images’ close proximity. We would come to know this as “association.”

Even if the colon was replaced by the word “like,” the transformation, though a bit slower, would still occur.

In fact, when I first studied Pound years ago, I had trouble recalling whether this poem was fashioned as a simile or not—mainly because the faces change to fully into blossoms each time I try to recall the poem.

Now, let’s look at a simile that, to me, metaphorizes in the same way as the examples above, in the line we saw before from Eduardo C. Corral:

“Jade moss on the tree intensifies, like applause.”

The origin/tenor image (moss) is connected to the transforming element (applause). This metaphor suggests, not an optical relationship, but a BEHAVIORAL one.

Both moss and applause are MASSES that accumulate via singularities: grains of moss and pairs of hands clapping to form a larger whole.

By comparing these two, Corral successfully suggests that moss grows at the RATE of applause, creating a masterful time lapse effect. Applause speeds up the moss growth, connoting rejuvenation, joy and refreshment. That something as mundane as moss deserves, even earns, jubilance, also offers a potent statement of alterity, that the smallest flourishing deserves celebration, which in turn suggests a subtle yet powerful political critique of hegemony.

The poet, through the metaphor, has recalibrated the traditional modes of value placed on the object (moss).

And no other context is needed for that.

You might disagree, but when I read Corral’s line, I don’t SEE an audience clapping BESIDE the moss. I see moss growing quickly to the sound of clapping. Although the simile is employed, the fusion of both elements completes the action in my mind’s eye.

Like Maritake and Pound, metaphor has OCCURRED here—but without “metaphor”.

HOWEVER, the simile is still VITAL. Why?

Because the transforming element is abstract (applause) and looks nothing like moss. We don’t want moss to BE applause, we want the nature of applause to inform, imbue, moss.

The line, I feel, would be quite poor if it was formed sans simile:

“Jade moss is applause on the tree.”

The “is” forces transposition, which is here akin to slamming two things together without mediation. We also lose the comparison of behavior, and are asked to see that moss BECOME applause, which doesn’t have the same meaning as the original.

So, although the simile fuses into metaphor (via association) in the mind, such a metaphor would NOT have been possible without the simile.

Similes matter greatly—as tools towards metaphor. Why?

Because (thank god) our minds are free to roam.

To summarize, one of the central strategies (and, to an extent, purposes) of the Japanese Haiku is to juxtapose two elements to test their synergy. This impulse is grounded in Shinto and Buddhist concepts of impermanence and structural malleability. That is, all things, even ideas and images, are subject to constant change—and such change is the most pervasive nature of perception.

The Haiku then becomes the perfect medium to test such changes. This principle is of central importance to me because it is rooted in non-dualistic (or non-binary) thinking.

The poem becomes the theatre in which fixed elements can be transformed, their borders subject to being dissolved, shifting towards something entirely new—to “create”, which is the Greek root to the word “poet.” The metaphor, then, is more like a chemical, whose elements (like hydrogen and oxygen), placed side by side, becomes water.

In this way, Buddhism’s influence on my work and, specifically, my use and understanding of metaphor, is a foundational QUEER praxis for alterity.

The reason why I emphasize the malleability of simile’s impact is that, although syntax and diction can aide a metaphor towards its more luminous embodiment, the ultimate key to its success is you, the observer.

YOU have look deeply and find lasting relationships between things in a disparate world.

In this sense, the practice of metaphor is also, I believe, the practice of compassion. How do I study a thing so that I might add to its life by introducing it to something else?

At its best, the metaphor is what we, as a species, have always done, at OUR best: which is to point at something or someone so different from us, so far from our own origins and say, “Yes, there IS a bond between us. And if I work long enough, hard enough, I can prove it to you—with this thing called language, this thing that weighs nothing but means everything to me.”

In the end, it is less about how you set up your metaphors (you will eventually find a way that suits it and you) but more about how you recognize your world. THAT is not easy to teach—it comes with patient practice, with a committed wonder for a world that at times might be too painful to look at. But you must and you should.

Good metaphors, in the end, come from writers who are committed to looking beyond what is already there, towards another possibility.

This calls that you see your life and your work as inexhaustible sites of discovery, and that you tend to them with care.

That’s it. That’s the true secret to a strong metaphor: care.

Lastly, I want to recommend the work of BIPOC poet and theorist, Thylias Moss, who discovered the Limited Fork Theory, a theory which suggests that the mind engages with the world, and especially with ideas, including text and art, the way the tines of a fork engage with a plate of food.

That is, only so much can be held on the work/mind with each attempt to consume, and that no “work” can be possessed in its entirety, which I find happily congruent with Lojong.

What a wonderful anti-imperialist and forgiving way to engage with our planet and its phenomena. Thank you, Mrs. Moss!

And thank YOU for sticking around through my little seminar.

I hope this has been helpful. Again, this is just my 2(5) cents! Now I’m going to sleep for four days.

In the meantime, me-ta-phors be with you.

—O

#ocean vuong #on writing #long post #metaphor #u