#fun fact: neither of the above statements are actually agreeing with this post!

[throesofincreasingwonder]

Reading comprehension questions:

1. The original poster begins this post with "[a]nyway," and begins the main body of the post with "but." Might that imply that this is part of a larger sequence of posts? How might other posts in this sequence provide helpful context? (Hint: you may use the other posts in answering the following questions.)

2. The original poster writes that their claim is true of "all" stories. Using this wording, does the original poster exclude any stories from having meaning or saying things?

2b. Why might the original poster have chosen not to use more exclusive language about which stories have meaning?

3. The word "meaning" can be used in different ways. For these next questions, think of some different ways this word can be used.

3a. The original poster groups together the word "meanings" with the phrase "saying things." What does this imply about which form of the word "meaning" they are using here? 3b. Does the original poster say anything about whether that meaning has anything to do with the intent of the storyteller? (Bonus question: How might the meaning of a story be different than the purpose for which it was created?)

Anyway. Sorry to be an English major on main but yes all stories have meanings and say things

[aquaticalay]

Centurion .Chapter Four.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Sequel to For Something Greater

Summary: (Y/n) is an active duty Navy SEAL Commander, the first and only woman to ever become a SEAL. After successfully stopping a genocide with the help of the Avengers, she becomes a bridge between the military and the earth's mightiest heroes. But even as her relationship with Bucky grows, she decides not to tell him about the nightmares and trauma that haunt her. Both their secrets begin to unravel when Bucky accidentally stumbles upon a piece of dangerous information about (Y/n) that she doesn't know about herself— something she must never find out about.

Genre: Action, Drama, Romance

Warning/s for the series: cursing, violence, death, eventual smut, PTSD

Warning/s for the chapter: nothing, just Bucky and the reader trespassing lol

Word count: 2.1k

Note: The plot is heavily inspired by the song 'in the dark' by Bring Me The Horizon, and 'Mercy' by Muse. So yeah, go listen to it if you want to :)))  I'll post a new chapter every two days.

Let me know if you want to be in the taglist

(Taglist will be reblogged)

THIS IS A SEQUEL TO 'FOR SOMETHING GREATER.' IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THAT, THE MASTERLIST IS IN MY BIO.

TRIGGER WARNING! THIS SERIES REVOLVES AROUND POST-TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER. (Including, but not limited to: anxiety/panic attacks, extreme mood swings , nightmares, intrusive thoughts, insomnia, irritability, hypervigilance, and hyperarousal)

Bucky woke you up at three in the morning. He told you that you're going to go to a place that might hold some information about Petrov. You agreed reluctantly, wiping the yawning tears from your eyes.

After you got dressed in leggings and denim jacket, and him in a black zip-up hoodie and jeans, he gave you a gun. It was a black Avengers-issued semi-automatic gun similar to a Sig Sauer P320, only more powerful and practical. Small with a built-in silencer, it was obviously made for concealed carry, possibly for espionage purposes. He handed a black inside-the-waistband holster that came with it. He eyed you carefully, "There's seven bullets in there," he informed, then his voice became low, "For emergencies only."

He was serious about it, and you understood. To be honest, you weren't planning on using it either. Not unless you really have to.

You nodded, tucking it under your waist band, the holster pressed tight against your skin. You would expect red marks there when you take it off.

You watch him do the same with his own gun, a similar model to the one he gave you, slightly bigger in size and darker in color. He opened the door, his steps heavy and motioned his chin to the door, a gesture to tell you that you should go out. 

When you went out, the hallway was lit by dim lights, illuminating only what needed to be seen. Buciy followed you out. He closed the door behind him so gently, that you can only hear a tiny click from the wooden frame.

"Friday," Bucky called the AI in the hallway, "If anyone asks, we're going on an early morning dri—"

"Whoa, what's going on here?" Sam asked groggily from the other end of the hall. He had a nearly empty glass of water in his hand, and he was wearing shorts and a shirt. You assumed he was thirsty and decided to go to the kitchen for water.

"We're going to Brooklyn Bridge," you manage to say quickly, before the silence became too suspicious. "To see the sunrise," you finished, a convincing tone in your voice.

Sam was still half asleep. You could tell by how he walked clumsily and how his eyes fluttered. You hoped this would give you an advantage. After a few tense seconds, he eventually let out a chuckle. "Alright," he shrugged lightheartedly, "You two lovebirds have fun."

You threw a smile and 'thank you' at Sam before hastily going the other way, pulling an impressed Bucky with you.

The two of you descended to the basement, slipping into a car. 

The car Bucky got was an Audi R8, sleek black like a stallion in the night, perfect to blend into the dark.

Driving out of the facility and into the streets of New York, Bucky glanced at you, a cheeky grin on his face. "Nice save back there," he told you.

Weakly, you let out a laugh. You sank back to the car seat, making yourself comfortable. You ignored his statement, taking it as playful, but pointless banter. “Where are we going, anyway?” You asked, tilting your head slightly.

“I know where Nick Fury lived in New York. I know he’s not home either,” he told you, his metal arm gripping the wheel tightly, his eyes focused on the long, urban road ahead. There were only a few cars aside from you. So few, in fact, that you could count them with your fingers. It was an exceptionally empty early morning for New York standards.

“And?” You urged him to elaborate his point.

“He might have a file or two on his computer on Petrov,” Bucky confirmed. You looked at him curiously. “And would you like to tell me how you know?”

“Before he went to… wherever he is now, he told Sam and I about his computer servers on old SHIELD data, and since Hydra infiltrated SHIELD…”

You nodded. “Hydra and SHIELD are the same,” you concluded his sentence. You were mildly surprised that he had thought about the plan this far.

You watched the long city roads stretch out in front of you, dim city lamps like lighting bugs fluttering above you. It would've been romantic, given different circumstances. 

Bucky didn’t turn up the music, but you didn’t mind the soothing silence. In fact, you quite liked it. You liked the way the low hum of the engine and Bucky’s breathing was the only thing you could hear. It felt peaceful. You haven’t been able to feel serene in a while, and this was a nice change.

As you looked out the window, admiring the architecture of the concrete jungle, you felt Bucky’s hand snake into yours. You let him grip you palm and he took it up, pressing a firm kiss on the back of your hand. He didn’t say anything, but you knew he did that for reassurance. For comfort, for both you and him.

When you looked at him, you notice that he was wearing a silver chain around his neck. You recognized it. It was your dogtags. Knowing that he was wearing you sent a feeling of warmth in your chest. You had his, too, inside your bag in the avengers facility. You need to remind yourself to wear it next time.

"You know," Bucky muttered, eyes glinting with an idea, "What you said about going to the Brooklyn Bridge for sunrise…"

"What about that, hm?" You hummed in response. His hand was still holding yours, laid on his lap.

"We should actually do that some time," he suggested.

"I like the sound of that," you said. You rub small circles on his hand, giving him a feeling of tranquility. Bucky smiled, but it's too small for you to notice.

Before you knew it, he pulled up on a neighborhood in Newark, New Jersey. He parked a few blocks from the actual destination, just in case. The two of you walked out and on the concrete floor in silence, the early morning breeze stinging your skin, prickling like frost bites.

You had put on a baseball hat, and he threw his hood over his head carelessly and just enough to cover his face, just in case there were unsuspecting cameras. The two of you had put on gloves, too, to avoid fingerprint identification if anything went wrong. Oh god, you wish nothing will go wrong.

Nick Fury’s apartment was on Clinton Hill, an old building and in the third floor, a three minute walk from where Bucky parked. It was old, red bricks as the interior. The front door was dark wood, mosaics decorating the small window, making it not as bland as it would be without it. The staircase was the same color as the door, squeaking as you stepped on it. 

You’d say you were breaking in, but Bucky had a key, presumably the one Fury gave him, which lead you to ask yourself, is it really breaking in when the owner of the apartment gave you the key?

He slipped the rusted copper key in the hole and turned it. The door creaked open, and you slipped in.

Neither Bucky nor you wanted to turn on the lights. You didn't want to deal with the risk of dealing with suspicious civilians. Instead, you fished your phone from your back pocket and turned on the flashlight.

Dimly lit, his home was a simple studio too small to be a functional and strategic safehouse. As you looked around more you realized that you'd rather not describe it with the word 'home.' It felt cold. There was no personal touch whatsoever, nothing to make it feel homey. It was outdated by about thirty years, old kitchen and filing cabinets pinned against the peeling drywall. There wasn’t even a bed, just a dusty red couch that looked straight out of a retirement home. The only thing that was remotely modern was a windows computer on a small desk from the 2000s.

Like an instinct, you knew what to do. You let Bucky hold your phone for light, and you sat in front of the computer. Bucky followed behind you, watching it load slowly. You tried to crack the password, covered fingers dancing on the keyboard.

You didn’t know why, but your regular bypass technique did not work.

Of course it didn’t work, you thought to yourself, This is Nick Fury. He must have layers over layers of security and protection, even over this outdated computer.

Bucky cursed under his breath when he realized what was going on. Without a great hacker, getting inside this computer would take forever. You would have brought Scott Lang with you if you could. But that would mean your little secret wouldn't exclusively be yours anymore. It's not that you didn't trust him, it's just that you weren't willing to risk it.

Bucky started pacing around the room, a sign of distress. Suddenly, he noticed a creak on the floor. It was quiet, but both his and your supersoldier hearing could identify the sound. You glanced at him, knowing what he’s going to do. He kneeled down, taking the loose floorboard out. It was a small piece of wood, tiny, even, but what he saw under the hardwood floor was satisfactory. 

You saw him pull a roll of paper from under, and he passed it to you quickly, flicking it in the air and into your palm.

You unrolled it, and sure enough, it contained the binary code of the password, and translating it wouldn’t be too hard, since a custom software on your phone allowed you to do it quickly.

You entered the password, and you were in.

Bucky quickly inserted the USB. You started searching for Project Mercy, but frustratingly, nothing showed up. 

“Try searching ‘Michail Petrov,’” he suggested, his voice barely above a whisper. You did as you were told, and hit search. A few profiles appeared on the screen. 

Three people were named Michail Petrov in Hydra.

Bucky took a closer look on the screen, and on their photos. His eyes were suddenly fixed on the third photo in the list, jaw tightening at the sight of him. He pointed at the profile, then growled under his breath, “That’s him.”

You clicked on it, and windows of his history opened, flashing on the bright screen. Looking through it carefully, you tried to find a few keywords: lab, project, bioengineering.

As you scanned the files, your eyes found one word that you’d been searching.

Petrov graduated from Moscow State University in 1975 with a PhD in genetics. He began his bioengineering project by making lab-grown animals in his lab in Kaunas, Lithuania. His project was shut down in 1994, for ethical reasons.

Ethical reasons, you repeated in your head. If anything on here is about Project Mercy, it would be this one.

You searched the files for Kaunsas, Lithuania, and found the full address to his last known lab there.

You quickly moved that file and a few other important ones in the USB. 

As you ejected it, Bucky placed the roll of paper back in the floorboard. It looked untouched. 

You nodded as a sign that you were done, and you can go now.

Just as you and Bucky were going out the door, you heard footsteps from upstairs. Bucky held you back from the exit, waiting for the footsteps to pass. You knew, as long as you were quiet, everything would go according to plan. You and Bucky froze, waiting for whoever was out there to get out of the way.

As the footsteps neared, you heart dropped.

You phone suddenly rang, bells echoing throughout the room. Diego Miller’s name on your screen.

Damn SEAL protocol. The protocol that didn’t allow you to put your phone on silent, the one you unconsciously brought into your habit. You managed to turn it off just a second layer, but it was too late. You heard the voice of a woman call, “Hello? Is anyone in there?” 

There a was a fake courage laced in the woman's voice. She knew no one was supposed to be there, that it was an empty apartment. She knew the bells didn't belong there.

She carefully put down her basket of laundry and knocked on the door. Once, then twice. Nobody answered.

With trembling fingers, she pushed it open to find it unlocked. Looking around the empty apartment, she was both relieved and confused that she found nothing.

You and Bucky already jumped off the three-story building and disappeared into the dark.

The only evidence you left was an open window, curtains blowing in the morning breeze.

-

[caelum-in-the-avatarverse]

Written for @azulaweek​. Prompt - Training. (Image Source)

Summary: Azula doesn't understand why Zuko won't just focus on his firebending. Lu Ten doesn't understand why she doesn't understand.

~~~

“I don’t understand why Zuzu likes swords so much.”

Lu Ten looked up from the knife he was turning over in his hands. “...Why?”

“It’s swords. He’s a Firebender.”

“I’m still confused, kid.”

Azula crossed her arms and huffed. She glared at the teakettle and tried to explain. “He’s got fire. He shouldn’t need anything else.”

Lu Ten laughed. “Our family is full of people who have more weapons than just their fire. Your mom has swords. My mom threw knives. Grandmother was a Yu Yan archer!”

“That doesn’t mean Zuko needs something else. Father doesn’t use weapons, neither does Uncle.”

“Eh,” Lu Ten shrugged. “True. Must be a Sozin’s line thing. I’m the only one of us who bothered learning anything else.” He tapped the knife and grinned. “Until now.”

Lu Ten liked the fact that Zuko was using swords? “But Zuko doesn’t need swords!” Unless it really did turn out that Zuko was as disappointing a Firebender as Father thought.

“No, but they could still come in handy. I don’t need knives, but I’m pretty good at throwing them.” Lu Ten twirled the one he held around his finger a few times.

“But you’re good at throwing knives,” Azula said. “Zuko isn’t good with swords.”

“Well of course he’s not good with swords, Zuli, he only just started learning. It’ll be a while before he’s good at them.”

That sounded stupid. Why waste time working on something that you weren’t good at when there was something else that needed your attention? “He should just stick with his firebending,” she muttered. “He isn’t good at that either.”

“Whoa - hey. None of that now. Zuko’s firebending is just fine.”

“Mine’s better.”

“That’s because you’re gifted. Zuko is...average. His firebending skills are good enough for his age.”

But good enough wasn’t good enough. “He should spend more time practicing his firebending and less time playing with swords,” she said. “Maybe then he’d learn more.”

Lu Ten frowned. For a long moment it was silent in the garden while he fiddled with his knife. Then the teakettle started making noise - not whistling, Lu Ten never let it get to whistling when he was making green tea. He said you should never boil green tea. But the water inside was starting to bubble. He took the kettle off the fire, took the lid off the waiting teapot, and poured the hot water in. He plunked the lid back on when the pot was filled to the point of overflowing, and some of the displaced water splashed out. Then Lu Ten poured more hot water over the top of the teapot, letting it run over the clay surface to warm it up.

“Does your father say stuff like that?” Lu Ten asked gently.

“No,” Azula huffed. Father didn’t need to say anything. She could just tell. “But Zuko needs to get better at firebending.”

Lu Ten poured the hot water out of the teapot and into a little pitcher sitting to the side. When the teapot was empty, he took the pitcher and poured the water into two tiny teacups, filling them to the brim. “He will get better. As he grows older and gets more experienced. That’s how it works.”

“He needs to get better now. I’m better than him!”

“And that’s not his fault,” Lu Ten said firmly. “Zuko works very hard, and he’s doing perfectly fine for his age. You’re the exception here, and it isn’t fair to compare him to you.”

Well that certainly wasn’t how Father seemed to think.

Lu Ten removed the lid from the warmed-up teapot. “Tea leaves, please.”

Azula handed him the little bowl containing the leaves he’d selected. He took it from her hand and held it up to her nose. “What do you think?”

She sniffed. “Jasmine.”

“Yep.”

“I like jasmine,” she said. “It’s kind of sweet.”

“Floral,” he agreed. He placed the leaves in the pot and retrieved the kettle again. For the second time, the teapot was filled with hot water, more poured over the sides for good measure. “So tell me,” he said, “if you think Zuko shouldn’t bother with swords because he’s not good with them yet, does that mean that you shouldn’t ever learn...hm. Lightning? Because you definitely won’t be good at it right away.”

“That’s different,” she insisted.

“How so?”

“Because I’m a Firebender. I’ll be able to figure lightning out!” Lu Ten looked amused at that declaration, so she clarified, “Zuko’s not a sword master.”

“No one’s ever a master, when they start,” Lu Ten said. “I’m not even an expert knife thrower.” He turned around and frowned at the apple tree behind them. There was a knot a few feet up the trunk, where a branch had been pruned away recently, leaving a little circle of trimmed wood behind. Lu Ten picked his knife up again and peered at the tree trunk carefully as his arm went through some practice motions. Then the knife was flying, and with a thunk it hit the wood two inches to the right of the knot. Lu Ten grinned at Azula. “See? I’m not bad, but I’m nowhere near as good as some of my cousins. My aim’s better with fire.” He lifted his hand again, and a little fire dart sparked to life above his fingers. It flew through the air and hit the knot dead-on, leaving a scorched spot behind when it fizzled out. “See?”

“You should stick to fire darts, then,” Azula said. “If you’re better at that.”

Lu Ten looked at her. “Zuli, if we only ever stuck with what we’re good at, we’d never accomplish anything.” He turned his attention to the teapot, which had apparently been steeping the leaves long enough because he poured the tea into the little pitcher. Then he dumped the water that was still sitting in the cups. Now that the cups were warm and empty, he poured the tea into them. There was still some left in the pitcher. “Here,” he said, handing it to her. “Want to do the honors?”

Azula grinned, took the pitcher, and dumped the dregs over the turtleduck tea pet sitting on the side of the tray.

“Good job,” Lu Ten said, and he presented her with one of the tiny teacups. “Enjoy.”

She took it and had a careful sip. The jasmine was delicious. “How do you make such good tea, Lu?”

He gave her an amused look before sipping from his own cup. “Practice.”

~~~

Author’s Notes

Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated.

Uh, let's see, notes...

*shrugs* This one came out kinda funny? There's no actual training in it, lol, but they discuss it I guess. Once again, we are taking a look at Azula's giftedness - coupled with her father's demanding personality - and how it affects her mentality when it comes to how people spend their time. The line in Zuko Alone, where she tells Zuko "You waste all your time playing with knives. You're not even good." was an inspiration.

Title comes from the old idiom "A jack of all trades is a master of none, but oftentimes better than a master of one."

My Lu Ten is semi-competent at knife-throwing because even though he never knew his mom, his maternal grandparents were like "THIS IS A FUN FAMILY BONDING ACTIVITY." He does prefer fire, but knives can come in handy.

Lu Ten is also starting to....pick up on some things regarding Uncle Ozai at this point. He still thinks the man is just a hopelessly awkward or disinterested father. He's also going to ship out to Ba Sing Se in the not-too-distant future, so he won't have the opportunity to see that Ozai is worse than that. I think that Ozai didn't ramp up his abuse until after Lu Ten - the family member most involved with the kids besides Ursa - was out of the way. For now it's just words and statements he makes to his children that could be taken many ways, and he's reaping so much benefit from that doubt.

Regarding Azula, she just...does not understand why Zuko won't stick to what he's good (or at least semi-decent) at. In her opinion, the point isn't to learn different things - the point is to be good at what she knows. Zuko keeps trying to learn other stuff and looking dumb as a result. That's not how you keep Ozai happy. Lu Ten is kind of seeing her thought process but doesn't quite comprehend it, and he's trying to explain how her current worldview is a little skewed, but it's not really working. Have you ever had a conversation with a young child where you try to explain something, and they come away with the completely wrong understanding of it and there's nothing you can do and you just stand there staring at them as they accept this new fact and refuse to listen to your clarifications? Yeah that's what's going on here, basically.

And I based Lu Ten's tea brewing motions on this tea ceremony video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3tA3fFCP34&feature=emb_title

Confession time: Tomorrow's prompt has been fighting me A LOT, so it probably will not be posted in the morning. I'm hoping to have it up in the evening, but failing that I'll shoot for sometime on Sunday or next week. *shrugs*

[solacefruit]

Writing advice meme, 1-10.

I saw this ask meme on this post and I love the concept, so I’m going to take a swing at it myself. The idea is to assess these common pieces of writing advice--i.e., what your interpretation of it, do you like/agree with it, etc.--and as someone who thinks and talks about writing a lot (and is perhaps guilty of giving a lot of advice myself), I have a ton of opinions on what good writing advice looks like and I’m so excited to go through this list with you all. I have to break it up into separate posts because I talk too much, so here’s the first ten! 

1. Nothing is perfect.  True! But I think this one sometimes feels disheartening to people, because they hear it as “your work won’t be perfect, therefore it’s not good enough and you shouldn’t bother”--which is extremely false. I think this piece of advice should feel liberating, because it’s giving you permission to make mistakes and be human! None of us make perfect work, because perfect isn’t a thing. Your work can (and will) be imperfect and valuable, and powerful, and gorgeous to read, and meaningful to others. 

2. Don’t use adverbs. Wrong! A foolish opinion held and shared by people who are silly. There are definitely writers who misuse adverbs--notoriously, Joke Rowling--but adverbs are not in and of themselves bad and I personally love a well-placed adverb. It can so dramatically alter a sentence and frankly I just love the -ly sound, it’s so sleek. Better advice for this one would be “use adverbs with precision.” Fun fact: I have a non-zero number of characters with adverbs as names. That’s how much I enjoy these little guys. 

3. Write what you know. This one’s interesting to me because I have a split answer. I think there’s a big truth to drawing on purpose from your personal experience and your unique pools of knowledge when creating, because you can bring so much to a work. You can ground the story in minute details and describe moments with such potency because they are familiar to you. There are so many stories in the world that are enriched by the fact the writer is a historian, or lived through a specific traumatic event that they now explore in their work, or has a love and passion for trains or botany or whatever their joys are. So on that side of things, I say true.

However, I think “write what you know” has a less wonderful underside, which is that writing what you know is often how certain hegemonic ideas and biased are recreated in works and then crystallised within genres. A passive imitation of your personal experience of the world and/or an unthinking loyalty to the tropes and traditions of your genre is not a neutral statement as a creator. I feel strongly that writers who belong to privileged groups--i.e., abled-bodied, white, straight, cisgender, Christian, male--and most especially writers who belong many of these categories simultaneously need to be aware of how writing what you know will produce a very specific, not-universal story. 

So short answer: definitely draw on your specific banks of knowledge and experiences, but be aware that you do not exist in a vacuum and neither do stories. 

4. Avoid repetition. Depends what you mean by that! A lot of writing is strengthened by repetition: motifs and themes necessitate repetition to be, well, anything. But if we’re talking about word choice, this is a safe general rule. That doesn’t mean grab a thesaurus, though! Just think about another word that you know that will get across the meaning you want--or move the sentence around until it achieves your goal. Swapping out a good word for a worse word with a different connotation is not better and definitely not a solution for repetition. 

5. Write every day. Counterargument: write whenever you want. I don’t believe there’s one true schedule that everyone should follow, because people are different and creative processes are different. I myself am someone who tends to sit down and write a lot (sometimes a few days in a row), and then not write anything for the next day or even week. Some people can do the disciplined get-up-and-write-every-morning thing and truly I’d love to be one of those people, but my instinct is that I never will be. My way of doing things is more chaotic and less predictable, but I think any writing is always a win. 

6. Good writers borrow from other writers, great writers steal from them outright. Hm. I definitely believe all good writers are discerning magpies who thieve everything that makes their hearts sing, and then spend their careers making nests of said things in different arrangements--but I don’t know if I’d call that “stealing outright.” I absolutely think a great writer needs a certain boldness in order to step out and confidently pilfer without shame or guilt, and then turn all those things into their things, so... I guess I agree?  Maybe that’s the teacher in me, but this has plagiaristic connotations to me that I don’t love and don’t approve of, so perhaps I’d say for this one: “great writers make what they take their own.” 7. Just write. Highly contextual advice that is almost never helpful. This is perhaps because, personally, I don’t believe in laziness. I don’t actually think it’s a thing. I think often people will believe themselves to be lazy but what they actually are is afraid or stuck, and with that in mind, saying “just write” to people who’re blocked is about as useful as saying “just walk” to someone with a sprained foot: you need to address the underlying issue before someone can get better. If someone can’t write, it’s not from lack of effort--it’s because either something is wrong and preventing them from writing (which could be fear of failure, or anxiety, or overly stressed, or any number of causes) or they have become creatively exhausted and need to rest and consume art to restore themselves. Sometimes both! 

I don’t like telling people to “just” anything, because that word has such a belittling effect. Writing is hard, especially if you’re going through a lot of stuff. I think better advice acknowledges that fact and responds more compassionately: “identify what is preventing you from writing.” Most writers--at least, that I know--thrive when they’re writing and write best when they’re thriving. Not writing isn’t a choice they make for no reason, so if you can’t write, look for the reasons. 8. There’s nothing new under the sun. Basically true! We are all (more or less, some cultural elements are relevant here) playing with the same toys in the same sandpit. However, we are the final component in the work and that makes all the difference. Each of us is the thing that is new under the sun and because of that, our sandcastles are wonderful and unique. I find that very neat. 

9. Read. Phenomenal advice. It’s the one I probably give out most often, because it’s true in a way that I personally don’t think can be understated. I think consuming media and viewing art in general falls under this bracket too. Besides being good for you and healthy for your creative brain, it’s going to polish your taste and teach you so much about writing without you even noticing, probably. Cannot recommend it enough. 

10. Don’t think! I have never found this relevant or useful. To me, it often comes across as a worse version of seven (see above). Thinking is my primary mode of existence and so far, my writing seems to benefit from that. 

[putschki1969]

A reply

vyselegendaire I don't know why there is bad blood between CPM and Putschki.  Each forum has its plus and minus.  CPM forums have had trolls, but since its a forum I feel people have a chance to be a bit more expressive of their opinions, and thus there is negativity, but frankly its mostly in the forum of  humor and farce.  There are almost no dedicated haters on the site who don't wish to see more great music from our favorite artists.

vyselegendaire Additionally, amidst all of the complaints of negativity and dreariness, lest we forget the scourge of censorship - which is on the rise across the internet - before we cast shade on those we disagree with as being bad.  Censorship and content removal is the tool of tyrants since time immemorial and don't think you are immune, ask

vyselegendaire Just ask Solzhenitsyn

Hi there!

I thought it best to make a proper reply post because I have a few things to say in response to your comments. These comments were made on THIS post here where I am talking about online fandoms in general....It took me a while to get back to you, sorry about that.

All right everyone, strap in for a LONG (and slightly petty) reply...

It feels like in all my previous replies I have been talking to a wall…I have said it before and I am gonna say it one more time, there is no war between myself and CPM, there is no ancient feud and I wouldn’t even say there is any “bad blood” between us. I haven’t really engaged with any particular member enough for there to be “bad blood“. My main issue with CPM is that I do not enjoy the toxic atmosphere over there. Why would I willingly subject myself to all that negativity? I might be the only one out there that feels this way but I wanna ENJOY my fandom. All the nitpicking, bickering, gossiping, bullying and bashing, it’s utterly exhausting and it sucks the life right out of me. I don’t wanna waste my time engaging in polemic discourse and childish quarrels day in day out. I mean, even responding to all those recent asks/messages has been utterly exhausting because I feel like I have been put on trial for simply wanting to be a decent human being.

CPM has had a few trolls....? No kidding....Please don’t get me started on the trolls.... I haven’t even been active on CPM but I still had to deal with them. Why you ask? Because we have had at least two people from CPM terrorise the tumblr fandom in the past….those trolls actually made the effort to come here and cause turmoil just for the fun of it…that’s how fucked up they are...As you can imagine, I wasn’t impressed…

Unlike you, I just don’t see the merits of posting on CPM. Yes, I have been in some lovely forums in the past and they certainly do offer a few advantages but when it comes to CPM, the negative aspects far outweigh the positive ones. Yes, a forum is better suited to interact with people but then again, I have plenty of ways to interact with fellow fans here as well. And if we are being honest, I am not the type of fan that actively seeks out interaction, especially not with people who suffer from a serious case of entitlement. You could call it a pet-peeve of mine but I really can’t stand it when fans act all entitled as if they were owed something. And you know what’s the worst thing about it? The most annoying entitled haters on CPM are usually people who are not invested in the fandom at all! Yes, they are very much invested when it comes to hating on and complaining about stuff but aside from that I don’t see them do anything else “productive”. They just sit back and let other people do the work. They don’t bother to seek out new information, they wait for someone else to do it.... Most also don’t bother to learn Japanese in order to get a better understanding, they wait for someone else to make all the translations or they just pretend to know everything and come to absurd conclusions which usually results in heaps of misunderstandings... Often they refuse to buy releases, they would much rather wait for downloads in order to then declare they are happy they didn’t spend a fortune on that since it’s trash anyways...They also typically don’t attend any lives but they are more than happy to complain from the distance... It baffles me how people like that have the nerve to act so entitled even though they don’t show an ounce of support.

There is another reason I do not wish to interact with a majority of the people on CPM. Many of them find pleasure in ridiculing me. I know everyone over there is making fun of me for being a “pussy”, for playing “Kalafina-police”, for apparently seeing everything through “rose-tinted glasses”. It seems like in their eyes nothing I write can be taken seriously because I am neither “honest” nor “objective”. I guess in this day and age you have to be a disrespectful asshole for people to consider you “honest/objective” and for someone to actually pay attention to you... But really, that’s just not who I am. I have zero tolerance when it comes to any sort of bashing of the people I adore and respect under the guise of so called “constructive criticism” and I do not wish to interact with anyone who thinks that’s okay. And before anyone misinterprets what I am saying, no, I am not implying that Kalafina are above criticism or that every kind of criticism is bad, that’s not the case at all...but as I have pointed out numerous times, it’s all about HOW you criticise...

As for your point about being able to be more expressive in a forum, that is completely untrue. Nothing is stopping me from being as expressive as I want to be on this site. Free expression does not equate negativity, if you think the opportunity to express yourself is somehow a free pass for being an asshole then you are wrong.

“There are almost no dedicated haters on the site who don't wish to see more great music from our favorite artists” Uhmm...and that somehow absolves them of all their wrong-doings? NO! This statement makes me really angry because it embodies the fucked-up mindset of so many haters in fandom. At one point in the past I used to like it so that gives me the right to bash on everything now and I refuse to find something else because I know for sure that one day they will create the exact thing that I want. THIS is how these people think...And it leads me right back to the point I made about entitlement. Throughout many years these fans have created an unattainable image in their mind. Everything that’s not in line with that idea is automatically written off as trash... Fact is it is very unlikely they will ever get what they want. So consumed with bitterness and hatred it’s almost impossible for these people to see greatness in anything. It’s a vicious cycle and the only way to escape is to move on to another fandom.

Your second comment is a tad over-dramatic wouldn’t you agree? It also sounds like a low-key threat and I really don’t appreciate that. I am very much aware that I am not immune to censorship but I am not sure what your point is. Are you trying to tell me that my only chance to avoid cencorship is to relocate to CPM? No thanks. I would rather find another platform or get my own website. Also, I have invested way too much into this tumblr blog, it’s not something I can simply give up and move on. I know many tumblr users have relocated to other platforms as a sort of protest but I will definitely not do that. If things become worse I will have to think of something but as of right now, I can live with the situation on tumblr. Let’s see what the future holds...

I guess instead of replying to questions about CPM you want me to write essays about censorship on tumblr which is - according to you - the very scourge of humanity? Sorry, I am not the type to use my blog for political statements. Yeah, I will admit, things have been a bit troublesome on tumblr but it’s certainly not as bad as some people make it out to be... I don’t necessarily agree with the methods they are using but they are par for the course...And I definitely wouldn’t compare the regulations that are implemented on this website (however sloppy they may be) to actual censorship that has happened and is still happening to people in the “real world”.

Okay, I think that’s it for me...

[cobblepottery]

Yo, you're the one person I know who really knows shit about the IRL Chevaliere d'Eon, you got any cool fun facts about her I can share with people? Also would it be accurate to call her a trans woman or not, because I keep going back and forth on this and it sure is something.

oh boy DO I EVER

You asked for it. This is going to be long because I have too much to say. I’ll put the fun facts above the cut:

D'Eon owned the largest collection of feminist literature known in the 18th century. And I’m talking RADICALLY feminist. Like “Eve was created after Adam and therefore woman is a more perfected creation than man, and is closer to the appearance of God” feminist.

I do not have a complete list of d’Eon’s essays, of which they wrote many. However, the one title I know of is Memoir on the usefulness of the cultivation of mulberry trees and the education of silkworms in France, which I assume you’ll agree is Extremely Good.

D’Eon was great friends with Benjamin Franklin before and after her transition, because of course they were. They were both also members of a scandalous secret society called the Hell Fire Club created by aristocrats with too much time on their hands.

Marie Antoinette really did commission her personal tailor, Rose Bertin, to provide a whole new wardrobe for d'Eon. D’Eon went through the process marveling that it is harder to outfit a single lady than it is to outfit an entire regiment of military dragoons.

D’Eon really was a MASTER swordsman. The only fencer in Europe to rival them was the Chevalier de Saint-Georges, whom D’Eon eventually vanquished AS AN OLD LADY in a fencing duel while in full female dress, skirts and all.

D’Eon was never known to have any romantic or sexual relations with anyone. He seemed profoundly uninterested in women during his time as a man, and despite some strategic flirting, she quickly established herself as a celibate woman devoted to God post-transition. This didn’t stop speculation, of course. Political satires depicted her as one of Benjamin Franklin’s numerous conquests, and after her death a very popular erotic novel was written which claimed that d'Eon was Queen Charlotte’s lover (and the true father of King George IV), a rumour which persisted for quite some time afterwards.

VERY LONG CONTINUED DISCUSSION ABOUT D’EON UNDER THE CUT

There’s. So much more than this. In fact these aren’t even touching on d’Eon’s career in espionage, or the events which led up to him being exiled from France after PUBLICLY BLACKMAILING THE KING. I’ve found out a lot by trawling through Google Books and various academic papers which study d'Eon’s writings and historical context. But I’d say my own knowledge is actually pretty spotty. I’m constantly discovering new things about d'Eon, or discovering that things I thought were true are totally false, or finding accounts that entirely contradict each other. (For example, an article I read recently claimed that Madame Pompadour was a dear friend of d'Eon and suggested him as a spy to Louis XV; other sources claim that they were bitter enemies.) I’m aiming to get a complete copy of d'Eon’s translated autobiography at some point– hopefully then I might be a little more knowledgeable, although that too is questionable seeing as her autobiography is a masterful web of embellishments and fabrications which are difficult to extricate from the truth. As to the million dollar question of whether to call d'Eon a trans woman– I go back and forth on this too, to be honest. Right now I’d say, if we define being a trans woman as “dmab person presenting oneself as female”, then yes– d'Eon indisputably did present as a woman in the last half of her life. I think that’s enough of a reason to call her a trans woman by today’s standards. It’s also enough of a reason to call her genderfluid. Neither term can be totally correct since neither concept existed at the time, but d'Eon qualifies for the modern definitions of either, or both. Whether or not she inwardly identified as a woman is an entirely different matter. It’s very, very easy to assemble all the known facts into a case that d'Eon transitioned for purely political reasons, especially when taking into account the reports of how unhappy d'Eon was about having to wear women’s clothing, and how furious he got decades earlier at people who suggested that he was female. But the fact is that d'Eon was vocal about wanting to be recognized as a woman, and got that officially approved by the government, and we have no direct evidence to suggest that she wished for that to change after her death. After all, we only ever have anyone’s word about their gender identity, and regardless of speculation as to the “truth” it’s impolite not to call them what they ask to be called. So personally I’ll call them a woman, and assume they were some variety of trans, for whatever little value that word has in a 18th century context.

D'Eon became deeply religious near the end of her life. In her autobiography, she mentions her belief that women are closer to God and closer to eternal salvation than men. There’s no reason why she might lie about this belief. Unlike most of the lies in her autobiography, this statement provides no purpose in convincing its reader that d'Eon was biologically female. So I think it’s true, and what’s more, I think d'Eon is providing for us a reason for her transition. For someone who lived most of his life brashly and excessively, the older d'Eon may have eventually seen her transition not only as a choice which had profoundly affected her life on Earth, but also a choice which might have gotten her back on the fast track to a heavenly afterlife.

[thruheavenandhighwater]

End The Night With You Pt. 2

[[ PART ONE ]] [[PART THREE]] [[PART FOUR]] [[PART FIVE]]

Pairing: Calum Hood/ Female Reader

Super fluffy again, some mention of cigarettes. 

Word Count: 4,079 oh my god i have no idea how that happened i’m so sorry

 It's now been just under a year since the night you met Calum Hood outside the venue of the show you had attended. The two of you became quick friends after that night and you both made efforts to connect with each other most every day. The two of you were constantly texting, talking on the phone, or snapchatting via the 5 Seconds Of Summer official snapchat. You still could not believe that by some random chance that night, Calum just happened to have wanted a cigarette at the same time that you happened to be smoking one, away from the large post-show crowd. It was not lost on you how lucky you were to not only have met him, but to have actually formed a genuine bond with him. You'd also spoken to the other guys in the band a few times as well, but mostly just when they would steal Calum's phone from him as he was talking to you. You didn't think you'd ever be able to forget your first conversation with Luke. 

   It was about four months after you'd met Calum, he was off somewhere in Europe on tour, taking over the world. He had texted you earlier in the day to make sure that he'd be able to call you at some point, neither of you quite yet sure how to make heads or tails of time differences. You told him to call you at what would have been roughly 1 am to him, but he assured you that he'd definitely call. And you believed him, because like he said the night you two met, he was a man of his word. When the time for his call rolled around you made sure to have your phone on you so that you wouldn't miss it. He called about 15 minutes later, apologizing over and over again for being late and blaming his drunken band mates. You could clearly hear a chorus of drunk male voices in the background of the phone call and offered to have him call you later on, or  even the next day. Before Calum could answer you heard Luke in the background call out "Oi! Is'at (Y/N)?" You heard Calum say yes, and tell Luke to go away but Luke was apparently able to get Calums phone away from him because the next thing you heard was Luke on the other end of the line.

   "Heeeeeey! It's (Y/N)!!!" He said, too loudly, his voice high pitched and slurring. 

   "Hi, Luke." You responded with a laugh. 

   Luke yelled to the people around him "Hey! Guess whaaaaaaat!" You listened as the noise around him silenced, a small smile still on your face. "Cal's girlfriend knows my naaaaaame!" Once again being way too loud, and slurring his words. Your smile fell istantly as you felt your entire body go red hot at his words. Sure, Calum was attractive, and nice, and funny and every other good thing a person could possibly be. But you weren't his girlfriend. The next thing you know a round of cheers and applause can be heard from the other side of the call, along with a roar of laughter from Luke and Calum telling him to give his phone back, peppering in some profanity and one particularly anatomical insult. 

   "Jesus, I'm sorry, (Y/N)." He starts with a sigh. "I'm in a band with a bunch of idiots." He says the last word slightly louder, making sure that they heard him. His statement was met with another roar of laughter and cheers. You assured him that it was okay, and told him to get off the phone and have fun with his friends. When he had protested, saying he wasn't in the mood to party, you jokingly threatened to hang up on him. He had giggled that cute, little giggle that you had come to absolutely adore. "Okay, I'll go. I'll have fun. I'm sorry our call got cut short. We can try again tomorrow." You agreed, and said your goodnights before hanging up. You knew all along that you and Calum were not dating. You were friends, and nothing more, and you were perfectly fine with that. But even knowing that, you still couldn't help yourself from thinking about the fact that Luke had called you Calum's girlfriend constantly for the next week. 

   It was now exactly three days until you would be seeing 5 Seconds Of Summer, and Calum, again and you could not be more excited. Calum was doing his damndest to get you to accept his offers of getting you into the show for free, getting you a meet and greet pass, even offering to bring you back stage with him and the band so that you could be side stage for the show, but you were adamant in declining every offer he made. You just wanted to be like every other fan going to see their favorite band that day. 

   "But you're not 'every other fan.'" He said, mimicking your tone over the phone. "You got someone on the inside now! Do you have any idea how many people would willingly lose an arm to get what I'm trying to give you?" His voice was slightly high pitched, feigning offense, as he tried to talk you into it.

   "Maybe so, but I actually like waiting in line for shows. I've met some of the coolest people that way." You retorted. 

   "But not as cool as the people you meet by sharing cigarettes after the show, right?" His voice trailing up at the end and you swear to god you could actually hear him wiggling his eyebrows as he spoke. You smiled wide to yourself, sitting alone on your bed as you pretended to think about your answer. You tucked your legs under yourself so that you were sitting cross legged on top of your lavender bed spread before answering.  

   "I may have met like one or two cool people that way. Now that I think of it, I simply cannot remember." Calum groans into the phone at this. "Actually, there was this one guy..." You started, speaking as if you were trying to remember a distant memory that had gone blurry with time. "He was kinda cool, I guess. He definitely smoked a lot of my cigarettes, I do remember that." Calum actually gasped before all but yelling "I paid you back for those, (Y/N)!" You laughed and threw your head back, almost banging it on the headboard of your bed as you did so, as you thought back to that night. You heard Calum giggle on his end of the call, and you were really, really grateful that you were able to make him laugh like that. 

   The next few days somehow passed in a blur, and took a month to get through all at the same time. You went about your daily tasks on autopilot, just waiting impatiently for the night of the show. Work seemed to drag on worse than normal, and you found it hard to sleep at night due to the excitement. You spent the entire evening of the day before the show picking out an outfit, eventually settling on jeans and a plain hunter green shirt, basically the same outfit you had worn the last time you'd seen them live. You felt so dumb when you finally decided on your outfit, and you couldn't help but wonder why it had been so important in the first place. 

   Finally, after what seemed like lifetimes of waiting, the day of the show rolled around. You had planned on getting in line early to be sure you got a good spot in the crowd. You woke up well before your 6:30 alarm to a text from Calum.

(Y/N)! DO YOU KNOW WHAT TODAY IS!?!?!

   You rub the sleep from your eyes as you smile down at your phone. You sit up in bed, throwing the covers from yourself before stretching your tired limbs. You pick your phone back up from your bed to text Calum back.

Thursday?

   You smile to yourself at the thought that he was as excited about tonight as you were. As you waited for his response, you made your way to the bathroom and started to get ready for the day. By the time you had dressed and thrown your hair up into a towel after your shower your phone was buzzing on the bathroom counter, Calums name lighting up the screen.

Ouch, (Y/N). Ouch.

Another text came through at that very moment. 

And here I thought that what we had was special )':

You laughed out loud, the sound magnified by the tiled walls of your bathroom.

Put away the tissues, Hood. I'm probably more excited than you are about tonight anyway.

Impossible.

   You felt your heart speed up just a bit at his response. How did he always know exactly what to say to do that to you? It didn't matter if he was halfway across the world, or two blocks down the street. This boy knew you, and that was scary. Sure, you've had boyfriends in the past, but even the guys that you had been in serious, committed relationships with had never had this kind of effect on you. This friendship was... Odd, to say the least. 

   You finished getting ready for the show, dressing in your pre-chosen outfit and applying a light layer of foundation and mascara before blow drying your hair and throwing it into a high pony. You found yourself getting nervous as you got into your car to go to the venue. You had been looking forward to seeing Calum again since you'd bought your ticket months ago, but now that it was just hours away you couldn't ignore the ball of nerves that had settled deep inside the pit of your stomach. 

   The band sat in the dressing room, the sounds of the opening band drifting in. Calum was bouncing his legs at hyper speed, tapping on his knees with his hands periodically, completely zoned out to the conversations going on around him. The boys had been giving him a hard time about this show for the last few days, knowing that this was the one you’d be at. Luke shot Michael and sneaky smile and mouthed “Watch this!” to him, slyly pointing at Calum. “So, Cal." He started, leaning back in his chair. "Is your girlfriend gonna be at the show?” Calums face broke out into a huge grin as he looked at Luke. Luke wore a mischievous smile on his face. Calum shook his head and forced his smile to drop so he could scowl at the blond. “Her name is (Y/N). She’s not my girlfriend. And you know she’s going to be there.” He paused for a moment, redirecting his eyes to the dressing room door.     

   Michael let out a loud laugh. “I can’t believe you still haven’t made a move, man. Ask her out at least!” He said, throwing his hands dramatically above his head. Calum just shook his head again, still avoiding eye contact with his bandmates.

   Suddenly Ashton stood from his own chair and walked over to Calum, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Guys, let’s be nice to Cal?” Calum looked up at him with a thankful smile. Ashton smiled back down at him. “Our boy is just taking his time, fellas. He's nervous about talking to a pretty girl. He’ll ask (Y/N) out when he’s good and ready.” Calum smacked Ashtons hand from his shoulder and sat forward on his chair. “You’re all a bunch of assholes, ya know that?” The three boys all laughed at once as Calum stood up and walked out the dressing room door, shutting it a little harder than he had meant to. Once he was on the other side of the door he pulled his cellphone from his pocket and sent you a text. 

    You felt your phone buzz in your hand with a text from Calum. You couldn't help but notice the time, making a mental note that 5 Seconds of Summer would be on stage in less than ten minutes.

Where are you parked?

The same place as last time.

Meet there after the show?

   You grinned at your screen, tucking a fallen piece of hair behind your ear, before responding.

I’ll be the one sitting on my car (;

   A few minutes passed, you imagined he was busy getting ready for the show with the guys so you didn’t mind. You were about to put your phone back in your pocket when it buzzed once more.

Awesome. You look great today, by the way.

   You felt your breath catch in your throat the second you read his message. The opening band that was on stage was finishing up the last song of their set, you could vaguely hear one of them telling the crowd that they would be at their merch table for the rest of the night and after the show, but you couldn't pay attention if you had wanted to. Did he really just send that? Did he mean it the way you took it? Are you reading too much into it? Friends compliment each other all the time, right? You put your phone to sleep and replaced it in your back pocket, trying to push your thoughts from your mind so that you could properly enjoy the show. 

   A few minutes pass while the 5 Seconds of Summer techs set up the stage for the band. You get excited when you see them bring out the keyboard that Calum has been playing recently, placing it almost directly in front of you. The team works together seamlessly to get everything ready for the show. Before long, the lights on the stage dim and the crowd around you goes nuts. The show starts the same as every other 5 Seconds of Summer show, with Ashton entering the stage alone and hitting his cymbals to bring the rest of the band to stage. As soon as Calum gets to his microphone you see him scan the crowd. When his eyes meet yours he smiles that big, beautiful sunshine smile that made you absolutely melt. 

   During the show, Calum would occasionally find you in the crowd again and smile at you while he was singing. At one point, you watched as he met Michael in the middle of the stage and whispered something to him. After they spoke, Calum made his way over to the left side of the stage while Michael came over to the right side. He leaned out over the crowd and everyone around you started screaming, putting their arms up to try to reach him. But he was focused on you, not breaking eye contact. He smiled at you, and raised his eyebrows before pulling back and practically running back to his own microphone for his solo in the song. Your mouth went dry as you realized that Calum had definitely pointed you out to him when they had talked. Why? Why would Calum point you out to Michael in the middle of a show? Why did Michael care? Once more, you pushed your own thoughts from your mind and tried to enjoy the show. 

    As the band finished their final song, they once again met in the middle of the stage, bowed together, and walked off. You didn't go to the merch table afterwards like you normally would, too excited about seeing Calum again to put it off any longer. You immediately went to your car in the employee parking lot and got your pack of cigarettes out from the cup holder and lit one. You held the smoke in your lungs again, trying to calm your nerves. You looked over your shoulder again and saw the familiar sight of crew members loading instruments and gear into trailers. You smiled to yourself, remembering the last time you were sitting in this same position and how much your life had changed for the better since that night. You finished your cigarette and flicked the butt into the parking lot in front of you, watching at it landed in between two cars about a yard in front of you. That was when you heard it. That familiar voice that made the ball of nerves in your stomach disappear instantly. 

    "Those things will kill you, ya know." You spun around on your hood to see Calum walking up behind you, his red button down shirt open showing his black t-shirt underneath and both of his hands in the pockets of his pants. You jumped off your hood and walked as fast as you could toward him, his arms now open, waiting for you to take your place between them. Calum wrapped his strong arms around your shoulders, while you wrapped your own arms around his waist, snaking them under his red shirt. He brought one hand to the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. “I missed you.” He whispered into your hair. You smiled into his chest, breathing him in. “I missed you, too.” The two of you held each other for a moment before you stepped back, looking up at him. He was beaming as held your shoulders in his hands, and just looked at you. You took a step forward and wrapped your arms around him for a quick moment. He hugged you back, squeezing your shoulders in a comforting embrace. 

    This time, he was the one to take a step back and break the hug. He put both his hands behind his back. "Close your eyes, (Y/N). I have a surprise for you." You laughed as you did as you were told. "Hold your hands out." He commanded, and you did. "Okay, ready?" You nodded your head up and down quickly. He giggled a little before placing something in your hands. Actually, two somethings. Two small, smooth rectangles of the same size. You slowly opened one eye and looked at your palms to see two packs of cigarettes, one of the kind you smoked and one of the kind Calum smoked. "So tonight I don't have to smoke all of your cigarettes, and you don't get to hold it over me for the next year." You laughed as you brought both hands to the side of your face, and saying in a bad falsetto, "My hero!" 

    You both took your spots on the hood of your car. You lit a cigarette as Calum expertly smacked his own pack against his hand before opening it and lighting his own. The same comfortable silence as before enveloped the two of you as you smoked. You would occasionally look over at Calum to find that he was already looking at you. You blushed and turned your head back to face the ground, earning a small chuckle from him each time. After the third time of this happening you finally asked Calum why he was looking at you. Something on your face? He giggled again and said "I'm just really happy to be in the same city as you again, that's all." You  leaned over, resting your shoulder on his and taking a deep breath. You brought your cigarette to your lips and inhaled, unable to contain the smile taking over your face. 

    When you both finished your cigarettes, you laid back on your hood just like you had before. You asked him about his tour, and he shared the same stories that you had been hearing all year but he still captured your attention as if they were brand new to you. You had one arm behind your head, and the one closest to Calum laid out at your side, absentmindedly playing with a loose strand on your shorts as he talked. He had just finished telling a story about Ashton and something called a "shooey" when you suddenly felt his warm hand against yours. He put his hand on yours, intertwining your fingers. The touch sent fireworks through your entire body and before you knew it was happening, you were pulling your hand away. 

    "Shit! I'm sorry, (Y/N). Fuck... I shouldn't have done that." He sat up straight, running a hand through his curls. "It's just that Michael has been really giving me shit lately and I just thought..." You stopped him mid-sentence. 

    "Calum, it's fine." He took his hand from his hair and looked at you. "It was just a surprise. I don't know why I pulled my hand away, really. Maybe just because I haven't actually held hands with anyone in a while?"

   Calum had a shy smiled on his face as he asked, "So... You're not, like, upset or anything?"

   "No, I'm not upset. Just a little shocked." You answered, moving your hand to capture his again, giving it a squeeze. 

    His smile grew so wide that you weren't sure how his face was even big enough to hold it. "Am I really that bad at flirting?"

   You threw your head back, your hair flying, as you laughed. You leaned into him again and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to be completely submerged in the moment. "No, you're not that bad at flirting." You answered, taking a deep breath. "I'm just having a hard time figuring out why, is all." Calum turned toward you, and looked into your eyes. You were amazed at how beautiful his big, brown eyes were in the lights of the city. He brought his free hand to cup the side of your face, his thumb gently rubbing along your cheekbones. 

    "Because, (Y/N). You are the best thing in my life. Your phone calls make my entire day, and I reread your texts over and over again on the bus when I can't sleep. I talk about you constantly to the guys, and anyone else who will listen. Seeing your pictures on Instagram and Snapchat break my heart a little bit because all I can think about is how much longer I have to wait until I get to see you again." He smiled at you, flicking his tongue out of his mouth slightly to lick his lips. "(Y/N), the guys are always, and I mean always on my ass about asking you out, but I didn't want to do it on the road. That didn't feel right, or fair, ya know?" You nodded your head against his hand, unable to speak. His smile grew as he continued. "I had to cash in every favor I've earned over the last seven years for this, but we don't have a show until Monday. So we aren't leaving until Saturday morning." He took a deep breath, breaking your eye contact to look down at the hood of your car.  He looked back up at you, you could see in his eyes that he was nervous. "I'd love to be able to take you on a real date tomorrow night. If you'll let me, anyway."

   Before you could stop yourself your face was an inch from his. You looked deep into his eyes, then glanced down at his full lips before whispering, "Of course." And closing the space between the two of you. Calum moved his hand that had been cupping your cheek to the back of your head, tangling his long fingers in your hair again as he kissed you back. You left your eyes closed for just a second when Calum pulled back from you and broke the kiss. When you opened your eyes you saw that he was wearing an even bigger smile than before, but now you had a whole new appreciation for it. The two of you laid back on your hood once more, this time you placed one arm around his waist as you laid your head on his chest. He wrapped one arm around you as the other one reached up to yours, lacing your fingers with his own once again. You watched the stars together in that parking lot for hours. You were sure the actual employees of the venue had been judging you as they walked to their cars  to leave, but you could not be bothered to care. 

    Calum was sure that his bandmates would no doubt wonder what the hell had happened to him, but he just smiled to himself. He knew that when he told them he had finally asked you out, they'd almost be happier than he was. 

~~~~~~~~

Tag List: @blue-skies-are-alright @curlious @gotta-try-something-new @cocobuttercalum  

And I’d like to take a second to extend the worlds largest thank you to @crownedbyluke I truly do not think I would have finished this without you. 

As usual, I hope you all love this fic! If you do, please take just a moment to let me know what you thought of it! I appreciate any and all feedback. Hoping you all have a wonderful weekend ♥

-Desiree’

[gentlemanmendes]

Beauty behind the Madness | 21|

Previous chapters can be found in my masterlist under beauty behind the madness sorry tumblrs being a bitch so I have to give you guys the link making the post look ugly but here ya go https://gentlemanmendes.tumblr.com/post/154438057583/masterlist

21:

Arleigh had that look on her face for the past three hours, the look when she wanted to say something and with all her might was holding it back. Her face always contoured with her brows knitting together, her nose scrunching up, and her lips pressed into a thin line as she bit down on her cheeks as if that would stop her from talking. It's small things like this, when I know what each of her gestures and expression mean, that hurts the most. All this pointless stuff I spent six years learning about Arleigh was suddenly pointless. It's like I wasted six years on studying her for absolutely nothing.

I throw my car keys and room key on the table as I attempt to busy myself by emptying my pockets even though I know they are already empty. Arleigh seems to have the same idea, after she puts down her art journal and pencils that I had gifted her with earlier before shuffling through her bag helplessly. Neither of us had said much all afternoon but I figured it was because Arleigh was feeling as tired as I was. I had never liked driving long distances, I always felt like they dragged on pointlessly, and have driven way too much in the past twenty four hours for my liking but to see the reaction on Arleigh's face today, I would do it all over without hesitation for her.

After she had finished drawing Arleigh had met me out on the steps in front of the museum, the art journal and pencils packed away rightly under her arm. I wanted to ask her to look at the picture but it seemed too personal, like I would be stepping over a line, and decided against it. We agreed to get some lunch, stopping at a cafe we bought coffee and sandwiches before making our way down to a lake where again Arleigh pulled out her journal and began sketching the landscape in front of us. It had been a good afternoon, and although deadly silent between us, I found myself feeling whole and content all while doing nothing.

"I'm going to shower." Arleigh mumbles hesitantly after she has gathered the things she needed to take with her into the bathroom. Frowning to herself she pauses for a moment biting down on her lip as if contemplating whether to say something else or not. I want to tell her that it's okay and that she can say whatever she wants but I can't bring myself to speak. She seems to think better of it as she shakes her head to herself, as if dismissing the thought, before continuing into the bathroom. From the mirror in front of me I watch as Arleigh puts her belongings down on the floor before looking into the mirror above the sink. Her frown had grown deeper if that was even possible, and she seemed to have grown frustrated with her reflection. Her attention diverted to the empty sink that she was leaning against, her body hunched over as if in pain.

"Are you okay?" I ask hoping I don't sound too intrusive. I've learned many things about Arleigh but the most important was to give her space when she wasn't in the best of moods, if I had learned this a few years earlier we would have had a lot less problems between us.

"Yeah I'm fine." She mumbled shrugging me off just as I knew she would. As if on instinct I roll my eyes only to remember that she has every right to shrug me off, we aren't together any more and she has no reason to trust me. Moving towards my backpack to get changed into something more comfortable to sleep in I'm surprised when I hear Arleigh's voice behind me, loud and clear. "No actually, I'm not fine and it's all your fault!" Her tone was harsh and filled with accusation. Shock had overcome me, was I hearing things? Arleigh had never been one to be so abrupt and straight to the point.

When I turned around sure enough Arleigh is standing there glaring up at me and she doesn't look pleased, if anything she looks as though she had been slowly bottling up all this tension and now she was about to explode. As much as I wanted to defend myself, tell her she was wrong, or even explain what had really happened that night I can't bring myself to utter a word. I can't say anything because I know that nothing would justify my actions that night. For a while I thought this wouldn't happen, that she wouldn't bring up that night, but I knew I was only lying to myself. How could she not bring it up? She was in rehab for over three months because of me.

***

Pacing through my bedroom I can't help wonder if this was possibly the stupidest thing I had ever done, yesterday morning throwing a party seemed like a great idea but after the fight with Arleigh the last thing I'm in the mood for is to party. The loud music is causing the house to shake, my floorboards vibrating from the beat beneath me, making me positive that the neighbours are going to call and complain. Again I look out the window and although Arleigh's bedroom light is obviously on I can't see her because she has closed her blinds. Was she really going to be this petty over a stupid argument we had last night? Judging by the lights on downstairs I'm assuming Mr Axle is home, hopefully the loud music and annoying teens are irritating him.

My door swings open causing my head to snap in that direction ready to tell the next two people who thought they could have sex in my room to fuck off but to my surprise it's just Mitch who seems to be incredibly pissed off by something, a bottle of cheap beer in his hand as he steps into my room slamming the door behind him.

"Dude are you seriously still sulking over Arleigh?" He takes my silence as answer enough before shouting loudly for me to get over it. It was easy for him to say, he didn't know what it was like to care about anyone or anything other than himself. Sure he has his reasons for being a selfish asshole but he doesn't have to force his actions on the rest of us. So what if I'm whipped for Arleigh, she has been my best friend since I was twelve, we see each other every day and do everything together, it would be weird for me to not have her around and if we break up things would never be the same, I didn't want to loose that.

"Arleigh's not even here," Mitch began as he started dragging me towards my bedroom door and back out into the party. "Just have some fun tonight and talk to her in the morning when she's finally over her little tantrum."

Unwillingly I allow Mitch to pull me out of my room and down the stars into the chaos that has taken over my home.  In a way he is right, I'm throwing this great party and am choosing to sit up in my room sulking about something Arleigh will most likely get over by tomorrow. We make our way to the lounge room where Mitch instructs Andy to go get me a drink which he grudgingly obliges to, I figure the only reason he got up was because the drink was for me and if it had been for Mitch he would have not moved from his spot.

For the corner of my eye I see Mitch nods his head at someone to come over towards us before he makes room on the couch between us. Sure enough Layla takes the empty spot and says hi to me. Yesterday I had only flirted with her a little in class because I was mad at Arleigh and in a way I was hoping the news would find its way back to Arleigh, not by Mitch blurting it out the way he did but maybe by one of Layla's bitchy friends telling people about it until Arleigh eventually found out. Now looking back at it that has to be one of the dumbest ideas I have ever come up with. The fact that Mitch had been all for it should have been a sign that it was a bad idea.

Layla had been talking for a good ten minutes but I had just been giving her nods and one worded mumble response as I tried to drown her out by focusing on my drink. She was practically on top of me shouting into my ear just so she could be heard over the loud music. Right now I'm starting to understand why Arleigh hates parties so much and always disappeared off to somewhere quieter and lonelier. Mitch always suggested it was because she was boring but I know understood it was because parties are way to hectic when you are not in the right mood, which Arleigh never seemed to be in.

How the hell was I supposed to tell this girl that I wasn't into her at all? She's hot and unlike most girls in our class she isn't a bitch, but she just simply isn't my type. Maybe for a good fuck I would call her up but I have a girlfriend, even if that girlfriend had dumped me earlier today. Again I have to remind myself of what Mitch had said 'talk to her in the morning when she's finally over her little tantrum.'  Arleigh just needed her space right now, first thing in the morning I will go over and sort things out with her and make sure Mitch isn't there to screw it up.

For a long time I felt like I could get through the rest of tonight by drinking and only half heartedly listening to Layla until she said 'I heard you and Areligh broke up.' I try not to choke on the liquid in my mouth at her abrupt statement.

"We just had a disagreement, it's nothing big." I shrug her off and take a swing from the beer Mitch had given me a few minutes earlier making it my third drink in less that an hour. If Arleigh was here she would tell me to slow down and be careful.

Looking around I notice pairs of eyes on me and Layla whispering with their friends. Did everyone know about the fight Arleigh and I had. We were the only couple that had lasted as long as we have, naturally as soon a something happens between us people start jumping to conclusions. Is that seriously all people care about?

Mitch had disappeared into the kitchen to get us both another dink but now I'm doubting if that is a good idea. My head is beginning to feel light and I know I should slow down on my drinking but I don't. I know that if Arleigh was here she would be scowling at me for consuming so much alcohol in such a short period of time which for some reason only makes me want to drink more.

"Look who I found wondering around." Mitch yelled loudly at me as he approached with two cups in his hand. For a moment I'm confused until I see Arleigh trailing behind him like a lost puppy, looking completely uncomfortable and out of place with her surroundings. Without giving it a second thought I jump off of the couch in surprise causing Layla to fall back onto the person who had taken Mitch's place but when a forbidding look flashes across Arleigh's features I realise that my sudden movement made me look guilty.

Arleigh lets out a huff before diverting her attention anywhere but at me. I notice the plastic cup in her hand and have no doubt that Mitch had somehow convinced her to drink. My gaze shifts to Mitch who seems to be enjoying the tension between me and Arleigh. He stays stationed by her side making me wonder why; is he up to something? Knowing Mitch the answer is yes.

He holds his hand out and gestured for me to take my drink, stumbling forward slightly I manage to get my drink off of Mitch. Whether I was supposed to catch the eye roll Arleigh had given me due to the fact that it was obvious I've had too much to drink I'm not sure but she seems less that impressed.

Now that Mitch's hand is free he takes the opportunity to slither his arm around the small of Arleigh's back pulling her in closer to to his side. Although I can't hear what he said I watch his lips move as he practically emphasises each word "Wanna go somewhere a little more quite?" With one last glare in my direction Arleigh gives one firm nod of her head before leading the way to the front yard. Without even giving it a second thought I follow hot on their trail, over my dead body am I going to leave Arleigh alone with Mitch for a split second.

There are a few people out front but not many, someone running around the front lawn in his underwear with his shirt tied around his neck loosely like a cape his friends cheering him on. Arleigh is leaning against the railing Mitch right beside her too close for my liking. It's not that I'm jealous, if it were anyone else I probably would be jealous, it's just that Mitch is trouble not to mention his favourite thing to do is taunt Arleigh. For some reason though I can't help but feel that right now he is trying to get a rise out of me and not Arleigh. If Arleigh is uncomfortable she is is trying hard not to show it, but she forgets that I know her better than she knows herself. Just by her simple body language; how stiff she is as if focusing on keeping her body still will distract her from Mitch's hand slipping into the back pocket of her jeans, how she is holding her head high trying to seem strong and proud when I know she wants nothing more than to cower away in fear and discomfort. But I can't do anything unless she says something. Right now this is her choice and I have to sit here and watch it all play out.

"Now that you and Shawn are over how about you and I get a little friendly." Mitch taunts loudly enough for me to hear, dipping his face into the crock of her neck. At this I feel my heart rate rise and think of a million and one ways I could get Mitch away from Arleigh, my favourite option being to break his arm. "We could go up into his bedroom and get busy, what do you say?"

"Fuck off!" I yell out at him causing his attention to snap toward me in surprise, pure amusement clear on his face.

"That's not fare, I slept with Layla and am sharing her with you why can't I have Arleigh now." At this I know Arleigh is only going along with this on purpose to get a rise out of me, before I had assumed just as much but this made it obvious. There is no world where Arleigh would have ever allowed any one to discredit her like Mitch just had, epically Mitch.

I can't help but stare at Arleigh in disbelief. Is this really the same girl that I have known all this time? Is this really what it has come to? She is willing to let Mitch be all over her in some sort of payback.

"Arleigh?" I question waiting for her to snap back into her senses and shove Mitch off but she doesn't do anything instead she just stares at me blankly. At this I feel anger towards her. Just how far was she willing to go to make her point? Would she take Mitch up on his offer and go up to my room with him? "So you won't have sex with me after six years being by your side but you will have sex with Mitch, the asshole who you find disgusting. You know what fuck you!"

Betrayal grows deep inside me, fuelling the flames of my burning anger. Not with Mitch, I would have expected nothing less from him, but from Arleigh. I couldn't even form into words how much this hurt. After all I have put up with for her and she was just going to run into Mitch's arms so easily, or should I say other body parts.

"No Shawn, fuck you!" She yelled back stepping out of Mitch's grip and right in front of me. "I came here to apologise for over reacting today only to be proved right.  You need to get over yourself." She threw the liquid in her cup at me taking me by surprise, the alcohol now sinking into my shirt quicker than her words did. "and think again if you think I would sink as low as sleeping with Mitch."

"Fuck off bitch!" Mitch cursed her out only to have her flip him off as she turned away to make her way down the stairs. Mitch grabbed onto Arleigh forearm to stop her only to have her slap him in response.

"You're a pig, a drunk, and will forever be alone. You pretend to be this person who doesn't give a shit about anything but deep down you are so insecure that you figure if you make others fear you they won't point out your insecurities and for a long time I did just that because I didn't want to announce to you just how pathetic everyone thinks you are." For the first time in all the years I have known Mitch he stayed quite taking me by surprise. His eye stayed glued to Arleigh. Arleigh's gaze skipped past me to the door behind me causing me to turn around only to find Andy and Jonnie standing in the door way. I'm not sure how long they've been standing there but my guess is barley a minute. They must have only heard Arleigh go off on Mitch which would explain the shock on their faces.

Seeming satisfied with herself, Arleigh turned and left this time everyone too shocked to stop her.

***

I want to respond but I can't, I have no right to. I'm guilty. I knew someone would eventually call me out on it but I had been living in denial, that maybe I could live the rest of my days without ever having to hear someone bring it up. The last person I had expected to bring it up was Arleigh, she had been playing the part of not wanting to talk about it too well. I figured that like me, the memory of that night constantly replayed in her mind but she wasn't ready to confront the matter yet. I didn't know if I would ever be ready to confront the matter but right now it seemed I didn't have a choice.

Arleigh's attention turned to the ground and she whispered "You just ran." It seemed as if she were in disbelief as she said it aloud, as if she wasn't sure if what had happened that night was all real or just her imagination."You didn't visit me at the hospital, in rehab, or even when I came home. You just ignored me as if six years meant nothing to you." I couldn't help but suddenly feel as if every muscle in my body had been frozen as if forbidden by fear to move.

When I didn't respond Arleigh's gaze lifted from the old carpet of the motel room to meet my gaze, her eyes are filled with tears that threatened to fall at any given moment.

"Why?" The desperation clear in her tone. "I know we had a fight and broke up but I thought you would at least visit." Now the tears were falling as her tone began to grow harsh with frustration.  "Why?" She yelled.

Confusion settled once the shock had warn off. Arleigh wasn't bringing up that night. She wasn't mad about that, she was mad that I hadn't visited her. That didn't make sense. She had gotten a restraining order against me. If she wanted me to come see her maybe she should have made that a little clearer.

"Why? Just please tell me why." She was practically begging as she sobbed standing in front of me. She was desperate. I didn't understand why of all things that had happened this was the reason she was so worked up but for the question she was asking I had an answer, one that I couldn't be held accountable for.

"You got a restraining order against me Arleigh, if I got anywhere within a hundred meters of you I would get in serious trouble, what did you expect?" I shot back in defence.

"I didn't do that!" She yelled tangling her fingers in the roots of her hair as she tugged gently on them, her habit of frustration. "Why do you think suddenly all the charges were dropped? It was my dad, as soon as I fond out what was happening I told the nurses in the centre everything."

I suppose that does make sense as to why everything was dropped so suddenly, my guess had originally been that Mr Axle didn't have the money for it all. I'm sure that old hag would have loved to have seen me behind bars even before everything that happened and that night would have been the perfect opportunity.

Arleigh closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as if trying to calm herself down.

"You still ran." It was as if she wanted me to admit to being guilty for more than just what had happened. Hadn't I suffered through enough these past few months. She was right I did run I should have stayed with her and made sure she was okay but that was a little difficult with her insane father yelling at us.

"What was I supposed to do?" I raise my voice a little.  Nothing has changed with Arleigh, she is the same stubborn person who refuses to listen to anyone else's argument if it doesn't agree with her's.

"No shawn you don't get to play the victim. On that night I lost everything but what was worse was the fact that I had lost you. The only person who had ever stood by my side, been my best friend and then learned to love me; the only person that I felt safe enough around to let my guards down, the first person in a long time to show me they cared. I told you when my mum died that I lost both my parents but not long after I met you, and for a long time that was enough to fill the void I hadn't even realised had formed inside me. But then you left, you just decided you didn't want me in your life, and I know that's my fault because I pushed you away and I told you that I didn't want to be around you because I was scared that you would choose first and I thought it would make it easier if I decided but it didn't. And then when I was in hospital I thought you were going to come and visit me , even after what I had said earlier that day, if you loved me you still would have come but you didn't and I realised that even if I pushed you away you still chose not to come, you chose you didn't want me anymore and I want to know why."

Her words sting like salt in a deeply cut wound that took a hold over my whole body. I never thought of it like that but now it seemed to make sense. While I had my family Alriegh had been alone, I knew that much already but I forgot that just like she had been around me I had always been around her. The thought never crossed my mind that Arleigh may be missing me as much as I was missing her. I remember seeing her sad and lost the first few times I had spotted her when they had moved in but then never around me. Alreigh just said that I had filled a void for her. For a long time I had distracted her of the fact that she was alone without even being aware of it. Having me being ripped out of her life must have been ten times more torturous than how she had been taken away from me. I still saw both my parents daily, my sister, and my friends. No one had stopped loving me after what I had done but Arleigh had lost the last person who loved her, or so she thought she did. I want to tell her that I haven't stopped thinking about her, that not a day goes by when I don't regret that night, that after all that has happened I only learned that I couldn't stop loving her no matter how many times my friends told me to get over it because it was a stupid high school relationship that was never meant to last. But I can't find the words, I would never know how to say the things I want to  say to her the most.

[alliepretends]

After yesterday’s tiny tantrum I have decided to go for a truly joyful post today. Here are my top 10 DC characters (currently) and a little on why I love them.

1) Diana Prince - She is the icon. I knew who Wonder Woman was before I knew what DC was. I love that she champions peace and diplomacy and that she stands for love above all else. She is among the world’s greatest superheroes for a reason.

2) Dick Grayson - I love Dick’s unabashed skill. I love that he is widely regarded as a great leader and that his acrobatics set him apart from the rest of the Bat-family. I’m also a sucker for characters that seem purely altruistic and heroic but have a sort of hidden capacity for great cruelty and for characters that seem cruel and self-serving but have a sort of hidden capacity for great love. In my opinion, Dick’s idealism about superheroes and his self-sacrificing nature combined with his temper and irrational loyalty put him firmly in the first category.

3) Dinah Lance - Like Dick part of my love from her comes from her skill set. I love the symbolism of a woman whose greatest weapon is her voice. I also like that unlike many other meta superheroes she takes her fighting skills seriously beyond her superpowers. For her to be both a legendary martial artist and have a superpower is amazing. I also love where she stands in the pantheon of DC heroes. The best Justice League origin stories have her as a founding member.  Her status as a well-respected member of the Justice League and a regular member of the Birds of Prey means that she helps bridge the gap between two generations of heroes.

4) Cassandra Cain - I, of course, love Cass’s journey. She overcomes not only her abusive child but the killer that abusive childhood tried to brainwash her into being. Her determination and commitment to her ideals is frankly awe-inspiring. It is never a secret that she has worked hard to get to where she is now. She embodies the ideals of Batman more than any of the other Wayne children and she deserves to take over the mantle of the bat. I would also be remiss if I didn’t say I love that she’s among the best fighters in the DC Universe.

This post probably exceeds the limits of what is polite not to put under a read more so here it is:

5) Jessica Cruz - I love how open she is. When she is excited about something she is adorably enthusiastic about it (she made a construct that was a unicorn with armor!). Unlike many heroes, she doesn’t hide her weaknesses or brush them under the rug. She talks openly about her anxiety and shares both her progress and her setbacks. She is completely unpretentious and cares deeply about those around her.

6) Zatanna Zatara - I adore the fact that not only does she not have a secret identity, but her superhero identity is actually the same as her stage identity. To me this one choice accomplishes 4 different things: it pays tribute to her father, it makes a bold statement (come and get me), it acknowledges that the role of a superhero is as performative as that of a stage magician, and it demands equal respect of her power across all platforms (whether that power is real magic or misdirection). I also love the way her magic works. The fact that her magic isn’t just about innate talent or knowledge, but concentration, quick thinking, and creativity is really compelling to me.

7) Donna Troy - This one is a bit of an unfair one, because the main reason I fell in love with her in the first place and the reason she’s so high on my list (it’s an actual list I did a character sort of my top 50 characters) is because of her relationships with other characters in my top 10. Her friendship with Dick might be my favorite relationship in comics and I adore her friendship(/shipability) with Kory. I also love her role as sister/heir apparent to Diana. But, I think the fact that these relationships aren’t just enough to make me love her but actually drag her into the top 10 speaks to just how good of a partner she is. Her ability to be empathetic and accepting while rarely letting anyone take advantage of her is inspiring and is what makes her such an incredible leader in her own right.

8) J’onn J’onzz - I am in love with his kindness and patience. The fact that he is often among the most levelheaded people in any discussion is incredible. I adore that he is respected as one of the greats by Superman, Wonder Woman, and Batman but is perfectly content to be on the Justice League when its most prominent members are Blue Beetle and Booster Gold. I love that despite feeling the loss of his world in a way that neither Clark nor Kara really do he still manages to find laughter and joy in little things and protect his adopted home with an intense ferocity.

9) Koriand’r - I love that there is nothing inauthentic about Kory. She does not fight because she is escaping her dark past (although she has one) she fights because she is a warrior defending what she loves. She never pretends that her time as a slave was anything but gruesome, degrading, and unimaginably painful, but it also does not taint the joy with which she lives her life. She is brilliant and powerful but also willing to not only care for and defend but be on teams led by those younger and less experienced than her so that she may offer her support to those still learning. I know Elseworlds haven’t agreed with me, but I think of all the characters in my top 10 she will be the best parent and is one of the leaders truly shaping the next generation of heroes.

 10) Stephanie Brown - The thing I love most about Steph is her grit. From the moment she entered the field of superheroing she faced derision, sexism, and out-right cruelty from Batman and Robin. This despite the fact that she played by their rules, had noble intentions, and was eager to learn. She persevered through their criticisms to become a valued member of the Bat-family. In addition to seeing through her commitment to stopping her father and saving people, despite powerful opposition, Stephanie remains one of the funniest and most cheerful crimefighters around. 

This may be too long for anyone but me to ever actually read, but I had a ton of fun doing it so I might make another one for my next 10 favorite characters. If not though here are the top 5 that just missed the list: Lois Lane, John Stewart, Amanda Waller, John Constantine, and Mera.

[phirephox666]

Weekly Fic Recs - KnB

I’ve made this weeks recs a little longer than usual, on account of the fact that I’ve recced a couple of series which throws of the numbers a bit. This week is once again KnB and Kuroko focused. Cheers!

Weekly Rec Lists - More KnB Recs (Here and Here)

Trade Mistakes by Acetate (DramaLama), Chrystie, exuberant_imperfection, kate882, luckypen 

Kuroko/Aomine, Memory Loss, Complete, 32k

For the prompt: Aomine having an accident and losing his memory so all he remembers is being best friends with Tetsu and he doesn’t understand how that could stop.

Of Photographs and Iron Hearts by boats_birds

Kiyoshi & Seirin Team, Families of Choice, Friendship/Gen, Fluff, Complete, 3.5k

But Kiyoshi shouted the loudest. Because he loved this team. So much.

Anchor Stay by furiosity

Kuroko/Kagami, Makoto/Haru, Crossover, Free!, Fluff, Complete, 20k

Kagami and Kuroko decide, for various reasons, to join a basketball team at a university far from home and all their friends. It also happens to be the same university a pair of swimmers from Iwatobi are attending.

Like Mr. and Mrs. Smith (But Totally Not) by Lys ap Adin (lysapadin)

Kuroko/Aomine, Kuroko & Kagami, Aomine & Satsuki, Hitman Au, Complete, 28k

The one where Aomine's a hitman and Momoi's his handler and Kuroko is his target, and y'see, that's where it all gets kinda complicated...

"This one will be easy, you said. Practically a cakewalk, you said. No problems at all, you said. Hah!" Satsuki jammed a fresh clip into her Beretta, took a breath, and then threw herself around the corner, firing steadily to cover her retreat.

Kagami Taiga's Great Monday Disaster by merycula (thanksillpass)

Kuroko/Kagami, Kagami & Generation of Miracles, Kuroko & Generation of Miracles, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Complete,  5.5k

“I apologize, Kagami-kun, but-” Kuroko sighed in frustration. “Long story short, Momoi-san is now under the impression that you and I are a couple.”

Kagami’s brow twitched as his hand closed on the top of Kuroko’s head in a vicious grip. Kuroko winced slightly in guilt.

“Make the long story long,” gritted out Kagami. “Now.”

When the Sunlight Streams In and Casts Your Shadow (Autumn) by spatialsoloist

Kuroko/Kagami, Kuroko & Akashi, Cafe Au, Fluff, Complete, 8k

An extra set of hands behind the counter and a barista who can reach the top shelf without using a stool would be helpful in the café in the lobby of the bustling business building.

So, Kuroko turned Kagami’s resume over and simply said, “You’re hired. When can you start working, Kagami-kun?”

And Kagami looked him in the eye with those fierce red irises and replied, “As soon as you’ll let me.”

Don't Blink You'll Miss It (Lift Up Your Head) by umisabaku

Kuroko/Kagami, Kasamatsu/Kise, Midorima/Takao, Himuro/Murasakibara, Aomine/Momoi, Bamf Kuroko, Kuroko & Generation of Miracles, Sci/fi Au, Complete, 82k

It's been three years since seven human experiments, called "Miracles," escaped Teiko Industries, alerting the world to the presence of super-powered children. Now they're finally integrating into society-- going to normal high schools, playing basketball, falling in love-- and trying to find out if it's possible to truly escape their past.

When Opposites Attract by cywscross

Kuroko/Hanamiya, Kuroko & Kurasai Daiichi, Friendship/Gen, Ace Kuroko, Ace Hanamiya, WIP, 50k

They were unplanned from the very beginning to the very end. Neither of them ever regretted it.

Your Fonder Heart by Euphorion

Aida/Kiyoshi/Hyuuga, Hyuuga & Izuki, Kuroko/Kagami/Aomine, Complete,9k

“You know,” Izuki said over their exorbitantly expensive museum lunch, “being bisexual doesn't actually mean you have to want to date two people at once.”

“Shut up,” Hyuuga snapped, “I know.”

Part One of Polyamory

A Liar or a Lover by Euphorion

Kuroko/Kagami/Aomine,  Ace Kagami, Complete, 15k

The counterpoint fic to Your Fonder Heart; the aokagakuro side of things. Hope you enjoy!

Part Two of Polyamory

Rise Like the Bright Morning Stars by Euphorion

Kuroko/Kagami/Aomine, Aomine/Satsuki, Kuroko/Aomine, Ace Kagami, Backstory, Complete, 45k

The only sound was cloth against cloth as Kuroko shifted. He didn’t look at Aomine, or sit up, just flung out a hand in what could have been a beckoning gesture.

Aomine crossed to him, settling as gently as he could on the futon at his side.

“S’my head,” Kuroko said, barely above a whisper. “Migraine, this—happens, sometimes.”

His eyes were closed tight enough to whiten the skin around them. His lashes—darkened, usually, with tricks he got from Kise—were the pale, delicate blue of his hair. Aomine had no idea what to do with his hands.

“This is why you skipped practice?”

Kuroko nodded, and then winced, and then laughed, softly, at himself. “Yeah,” he said. “Too bright.”

Aomine frowned at him. “The gym? It’s no brighter than the rest of school—“

“Not the gym,” Kuroko said, and his lips curled up at the edges. “You.”

+

The penultimate story in the Polyamory series, centered around Aomine and his extremely complicated relationship to literally everyone else. Begins at Teiko, will end during the Winter Cup finals.

Part 6 of Polyamory

Spy In the House of Your Love by Euphorion

Aida/Kiyoshi/Hyuuga, Backstory, Complete, 24k

When Aida Riko was eight years old she successfully constructed a house of cards.

+

At long last, the final fic in the Polyamory series. Hyuuga, Kiyoshi, and Riko from her perspective. Begins pre-series, will stretch the entire way through until post-series.

Title - as all of the Polyamory fics - from Anais Mitchell, this time, like Rise Like The Morning Stars, from her song Namesake.

Part 7 of Polyamory

Áłtsé Hashké's School for Ne'er-Do-Wells and Insufferable Bastards by Chronolith

Kuroko & Kagami, Mythology Au, Magic Realism, Friendship/Gen, WIP, 46k

"Sometimes this middle of the road business is hard to take."

--"Hard to Take" by Luci Tapahonso

Or that AU where everything is exactly the same except for the fact that Kagami is an urban Shaman and the MiraGen are all possessed by one thing or another. Kagami would like to lodge a complaint.

Zenko and Yako by Rikkamaru

Kuroko & Imayoshi, Friendship/Gen, Mythology Au, Complete, 5k

Imayoshi wasn't entirely human, but that didn't make him a monster and, when he got the chance, he helped Kuroko come to terms with some parts of his past, and Imayoshi may not be a monster but he certainly wasn't a saint either.

Bright-line by Branch

Kuroko/Kagami/Aomine, Dom/Sub, NSFW, Complete, 2.3k

Aomine always seems to be searching for his boundaries. Kuroko decides it's time to give him one. D/s, Porn with Characterization, I-4

"That's what's most important to you." It was a statement, not a question. "Having something to push against that can stop you."

Daiki's mouth crooked up at one corner. "Not like that's a secret. It's what you went looking for, wasn't it? When you left."

"One of the things," Tetsu agreed. "To make you see me again. To bring you back. But Kagami-kun has his own reasons for playing you; we're partners, but it isn't right to use his game for my own purposes. I think it's time I was more direct."

Part 1 of Have and Hold

Reach Out and Touch Yourself by Branch

Kuroko/Kagami/Aomine, Dom/Sub, NSFW, Complete, 1.9k

After a tournament match, Aomine calls Kuroko to blow off some steam and Kuroko thinks this has some fascinating possibilities. D/s Phonesex, I-4

Daiki had thought it might be weird, the first time he played Kagami and Tetsu in a tournament match after the three of them started sleeping together. More precisely, after he'd started taking orders from Tetsu, in bed. Would it spill over? Would any of them hesitate? Would Tetsu look at him the way he did when he had Daiki down on the bed and begging?

Part 2 of Have and Hold

Trust in the Palm of Your Hand by Branch

Kuroko/Kagami/Aomine, Dom/Sub, NSFW, Complete, 7.1k

The story of how Kagami wound up willing to be submissive for Kuroko. D/s, Porn with Characterization, I-4

"So, I know how I got here," Aomine remarked thoughtfully, shifting a little against the bed. "But how did Tetsu talk you into this?"

Taiga grumbled against his bare shoulder. "You pick the weirdest times for long, meaningful talks."

Part 3 of Have and Hold

A Good, Free, and Unconstrained Will by Branch

Kuroko/Kagami/Aomine, Dom/Sub, NSFW, Complete, 5k

Kuroko wants a tangible marker of his committment to Kagami and Aomine, and of how they belong to him, and that's when other people start noticing what's going on. D/s, Romance, Porn, Drama, I-4

It was Daiki who mentioned it first, stroking his thumb along the line of Taiga's collarbone one afternoon when they were all tangled together in Tetsuya's bed, still a little sticky but catching their breaths again.

"You've stopped wearing that necklace all the time."

Part 4 of Have and Hold

Can't Hold On, Can't Let Go by Lys ap Adin (lysapadin)

Kuroko & Aomine, Aomine & Satsuki, Friendship/Gen, Complete, 44k

This is the one where Aomine is the one who has to find a way to reach Kuroko and persuade him that basketball can be fun, instead of vice versa.

Satsuki must have known—Satsuki always knew everything, it was what she did—but Daiki had been in high school for a solid two weeks before he realized that Tetsu was at Touou, too.

He found out by accident, when he rounded a corner too fast and slammed right into someone and knocked him down. Daiki was complaining and apologizing and reaching a hand down to pull the guy up before it sank in that that was Tetsu's face over the school blazer and tie, Tetsu's flat expression gazing back at him.

Part 1 of Tououverse

some lines never touch (but we do, we do, we do) by liveonanon

Kuroko/Kagami, Fluff, Complete, 6k

Five times Kuroko knew Kagami said, "I love you", and one time he went ahead and said it. Now including Kagami's tasty hamburgers, fanboy- and fangirl-peanut gallery, various GoM members giving Kagami The Talk, insomnia, and near traffic accidents. And sneaky Kuroko.

A Single Step, A Thousand Miles by cywscross

Kuroko & Seiren Team,Kuroko & Kagami, Families of Choice, Friendship/Gen, WIP, 32k

When Tetsuya first arrives at Seirin, it’s the start of something he’s never had, and for the life of him, he can see no end.

When Shadows Meet by cywscross

Kuroko & Takao, Friendship/Gen, Complete, 13k

On the court, they’re rivals, even enemies. Off the court, they've been friends since that dark November morning mere days after his school’s crushing defeat at the hands of the Generation of Miracles when Kuroko appeared on his doorstep with desolate eyes and an apology on his lips.

Part 1 of When Shadows Meet

Accidents by cywscross

Kuroko & Takao, Kuroko & Seiren Team, Kuroko & Generation of Miracles, Families of Choice, Friendship/Gen, Complete, 7k

Kuroko gets hit by a car and is taken to the hospital. Unfortunately for Kazunari, this becomes a rather common occurrence.

Part 2 of When Shadows Meet

breaking out the L word by Chesra

Kuroko & Aomine, Kuroko/Kagami, Friendship/Gen, Complete, 1.8k

Aomine wonders where Kuroko's newfound determination to learn shooting stems from. [spoilers for the manga until chapter 142.]

KISS KISS Pass the Fucking Ball by Chiharu

Akashi & Generation of Miracles, Akashi & Tamaki, Crack, Complete, 11k

Akashi goes to Ouran Academy to visit Cousin Suoh. Everyone suffers.

Now featuring the OMAKE: Teiko Middle School Host Club.

I laughed so hard my ribs hurt while reading this. 

[mbovettwrites-blog]

Blackbird - 500 Follow Excerpt

It’s been long enough. Let’s just get into it.

In the background, she heard the faint whistle of a late night train pulling into the station. At least something was still working at this unholy hour.

Only a few people emerged from the archway leading to the platforms, the thickness of the night outside dispersed by twinkling lights strung along the wall. The first was a businessman, which Maria learned first from his irate posture and prim expression and secondly from noting the expensive suit and briefcase. Next was a pair of women huddled under a scarlet umbrella, an elderly man with his pace defiantly brisk and his lips pursed in disdain as he glanced across Maria’s slouched shoulders, and a gang of students whose raucous laughter felt poisonous in the previously peaceful station.

The first thing she noticed about the students was that there were four of them, and the second was that they were all boys. Each of them was impossibly energised and bright-faced for such an hour of the morning, and it momentarily occurred to Maria that they were all drunk – then she grew sensible again and reminded herself that drinking was illegal on cross-country trains.

They were foreigners, obviously. More foreign than her. Northerners, from one of the many wealthy pockets of Verlinden or Adovya where they were expected to just casually take a train from one end of the continent to another on a spontaneous summer holiday.

Well, then, she thought, the voice in her head sounding far more stiff and repulsed than she had expected of herself, Let them be miscreants. Anyways, they’ve chosen a terrible place for a weekend away if they’re looking for that kind of meaningless fun.

Only one of them – the quietest, his arms swinging laxly at his sides rather than gesturing wildly in all directions – looked as though he could pass as a native to a Gulf Belt country. Ygar, most likely. But his company betrayed him. They looked like the kind of people whose company her mother would have enjoyed, if she were both young and present with her. He seemed fixated on the presence of an alarmingly skinny boy at his side, whose shock of coal-black hair did little to distract Maria from the fact that she could see the outline of his bones in his face and his hands. This boy was by far the loudest, letting of bouts of high-pitched laughter every other second that sounded not entirely unlike the train whistle.

His arm was slung around the shoulders of the shortest, who looked more out of place in Cuorren than Maria had thought possible. For one thing, he appeared to still be wearing his school uniform. Schools in Navarios didn’t have uniforms. Feeling a little pleased as the fact presented itself, she then also recalled that she’d read a study in a newspaper that said Navarios students were fifteen per cent happier and thirteen per cent less prone to stress and anxiety than those in Verlinden’s supposedly world-class academies.

Honestly? Maria was quite sure that the only people who thought Verlinden’s education was the best were the people who had been raised and brainwashed in it. Everyone she knew thought the school system was a mockery, designed to manufacture posh, well-to-do young intellectuals with no individuality or purpose beyond making money for their already dangerously wealthy country.

She could yet be wrong. They could be from Adovya which, though not by much, was a noteworthy improvement.

Goddesses forsake her if they were students at Hylin.

She didn’t quite have time to analyse the fourth before he had invited himself to sit next to her.

Her lips puckered in distaste as he offered up a lazy smile and a hand to shake. Quarter past one in the morning was not a good hour for her to be interacting with stuck-up people at, lest she bite their heads off like a five-headed hound. Tersely, she accepted the handshake. It was just like the ones she received from the white-shirted men Arabella introduced her to, sometimes because they were one-week lovers and sometimes because they were work colleagues from her lawyer world. She prayed that this boy would become neither.

“Evan Charlize,” he said, and then continued in extremely broken Agion, “A pleasure to meet you.”

In flawless Verlinden, she replied, “Maria None-Of-Your-Business. Try again when I’m not tired enough to sleep through the end of the world.”

The boy’s eyebrows quirked up, eyes widening slightly. The loud one half-cackled, half-wheezed, slipping easily past his companions and slapping his friend hard on the shoulder. Still in Verlinden, he howled, “Evan, my man, she just gave you a smack down! That was awesome! Matt, my boy, did you get that on camera? I’m replaying that at his eighteenth – ‘The One Where Evan Gets Showed Up by a Strange Girl’, anyone?”

Evan – Maria presumed that was the name of boy sat beside her – frowned. It was only when this happened that she noticed just how bushy and unruly his eyebrows were. They looked like tiny, sun-yellowed squirrel tails.

“No to all of that, Sal. That was not a ‘smack down’, that was just rude. Daj, teach your boyfriend some respect.”

The quiet one folded his arms across his chest. “Not my boyfriend, not my responsibility.”

Sal giggled hysterically again, collapsing against Evan in the process. Evan, Sal, and Daj – that left the uniformed kid as Matt. She decided to focus on him instead, since he was the only one who hadn’t spoken yet and therefore was also the only one who had yet to irritate her.

Daj spoke up again. “Here’s an idea that, shockingly, neither of you have thought of – maybe she doesn’t want you here because you’re making moves on her and she’s very uncomfortable with that. Matt, come on, you had to have picked up on that.”

Maria growled. “I know you’re trying to be nice, but I do have the basic ability to stand up for myself. I am exceptionally tired. Leave. Me. Alone.”

Sal’s eyes went wider than Evan’s. Pushing himself away from his disgruntled friend with a bounce in his step (which, given the ridiculous time of night, defied all logic and reason that Maria possessed), he swung an arm around Daj’s neck instead and let out a long whistle. It was at this moment that Maria’s observational skills fully caught up with the rest of her brain and she noted that Sal was, in fact, flaunting a crop top. Not that it was unusual – she had seen every fashion statement possible in her corner of Navarios – but she somehow wanted such a charismatic person to have the added bonus of knowing when it was chilly enough to wear a jacket over it.

She knew from experience back home that the nights in the Gulf Belt were as damp and humid as a fox’s armpit, but the air conditioning in the station was on overkill. At that moment, she would trade the lives of all of these boys for one minute in the heat of the midday sun.

“Whatever,” Evan huffed, standing up with a slight grunt. “We’re stuck here until the morning trams start running anyways. How long is that, anyways?”

“Ten to seven. They start at sunrise,” Maria interjected curtly.

“I was under the impression that Your Majesty wasn’t going to talk to us.” Evan’s eyes looked almost as chaotic and grey as the storm raging outside as he snapped back at her, all previous interests in being gentlemanly lost the moment she bared her teeth at him. She couldn’t care less. He’d apologise when the sun came up and the tropical warmth melted his temper tantrum away.

“Evan, even the Goddesses know you’re too grouchy to be socially interacting with other people right now. Find somewhere to sleep it off, you’re even starting to exhaust me.”

Matt had taken it upon himself to speak now. One hand was thumbing the corner of his shirt collar as he scolded Evan and followed it up with an apologetic smile tossed at Maria – the other was tucked tightly into his trouser pocket. At last, Evan decided that this was somebody he could agree with, and marched across the room to stretch all six feet of himself across the opposing bench. Back turned to the rest of them. Obviously.

“In another time, this would’ve been hilarious,” Sal said with a sigh. The corners of Maria’s mouth tugged up in an inkling of smile.

“You don’t say.”

He performed a walk that was somewhere between a skip and a strut as he went to join Evan, and Daj followed in respectful silence. Matt was the last one to speak and to go, talking and smiling over his shoulder as he trailed after his friends.

“He’ll be more polite come sunrise, I promise you. I’m sorry we had to meet like this.”

“Keep him and his temper! Didn’t plan on meeting you all in the first place!”

Leaving that as the closing statement of the tumultuous conversation, she unzipped one of her suitcases and dug around until she pulled out three identical crimson hoodies, draped them around her goosebump-ridden arms, and nestled in to wait out the storm still thundering above them.

So, this is about half of the second chapter showcasing the introduction of some other major characters (because as much as I love Ingrid, I love these guys too and they deserve some more spotlight). I would have put this out yesterday when I actually hit 500, like I promised, but I became swamped with work and sort of burned out and fell asleep a full two hours earlier than I’d normally even consider going to bed. So, yeah, that was a tad time-consuming.

I’m going to tag @kbcypher for being so supportive of this WIP and often seeming a little upset when updates are missed, @jade-island-lives for also being generally supportive and also being someone who keeps popping up time and time again in my notes, and @bitteredplum because they’re a cute art kid who is probably the only person I know IRL who I can actually stand.

They also drew a little doodle of Maria and Ingrid the last time they came over to my house, which I need to post soon

Thank you all again for 500! xx

[eloquentdrivil]

sqokscreams reblogged your post and added:

so i noticed that when you mentioned me(here v) i noticed you pretty much say the same stuff here so im sort of gonna reply to both @veganfacts said “Meat eaters abuse their pets every day and literally pay for animals to be abused and murdered” which somehow made you feel as if they’re rude and feel morally superior and not all vegans have the same views. but the thing is, that’s not just an opinion or anything. it’s the truth that every vegan knows and agrees with. a vegan stating facts doesn’t mean they think they’re better than you fam, we’re just trying to educate. like for instance, we all know that an animal has to be killed in order to make meat, right? and major industries depend on supply and demand to exist. so if many people demand meat products, more animals will be killed, and the opposite will happen if there is less demand...

@sqokscreams

(I will touch on your major points, but I wanted to condense space by replying like this.)

I don’t need or expect you to go through the other comments and replies I’ve made on and about that post, but if you wanted to confirm what I’m about to say, you will see the evidence of this at every turn; conceptually speaking, I’m pro-vegan.

Veganism can do a lot of good things, and I always make sure I acknowledge that, because, if I’m arguing with someone, my issues never come down to the practice of, or the incentives behind veganism. Besides just animal welfare, veganism could heavily cut back our environmental impact, so even if I didn’t care about rampant animal exploitation in the meat and dairy industry, veganism would still be a quantifiably good choice.

My problem with veganfacts, and the problem I’m addressing with you now in an effort to explain, is the inflammatory language they used.

It was not a fact, it was hyperbole, and right off the bat, the framing they used showed they do not care about context. The act of stripping context and defamiliarizing a nominal task makes their own point superficial, acting as nothing more than a way to flaunt their moral superiority over people who “pay for animals to be abused.”

In that same breath, it could be said that vegans “pay people to enslave and abuse children,” because of the rampant human rights abuses the produce industry is guilty for.

But neither you, nor veganfacts are guilty of endorsing child/forced labor just because the companies that distribute your food to you are guilty of using it.

But if that had been my responding claim to the shot at non-vegans, and then proceeded to push such a claim to undermine everything else you said thereafter, would you think me a good, thoughtful, or kind person?

That framing injects violence and hate into the consumer that just doesn’t exist. It makes a rabid monster out of regular people and twists this entire issue into a moral battle between vegans and non-vegans, and takes the ultimate blame off the companies that commit these atrocities.

And in their effort to do so, it shows just how little care veganfacts has in reaching out to and educating non-vegans. There is no education to be had there. A non-vegan gleans nothing from that statement other than, “Vegans hate non-vegans. Rabidly so.”

Because that’s what you would understand in that statement if the roles were reversed. That is a hateful statement. It’s divisive and stands only to show how little regard that person has for anyone not already living a vegan lifestyle, and they do not represent a majority of vegans.

To claim that that sentiment is universal is a bastardization of what the vegan movement is trying to accomplish.

Vegans want stricter regulations and higher sanctions against those who break them. In all sectors. They do not ostracize potential future vegans by furthering a rhetoric that sees people in a grocery store as the same level of evil and complicit as dog-fighters. 

On top of that, it’s ignorant and shows just how little that person cares about understanding or overcoming the roadblocks currently standing in the way of amassing more people to the movement.

You said this in your last reply:

i’m kind of confused about the links you posted, because most of them don’t affect the accessibility of plant foods. for example, hunger doesn’t affect what kinds of foods stores carry. of course the cost of the food effects what poor  people would be able to buy, but you can easily buy cheap plant foods. unless you mean hunger caused by food deserts or something? but anyway, i agree that veganism would be extremely difficult in food deserts, though there are many cheap junk foods that are “accidentally vegan” such as oreos and potato chips. i of course don’t blame anyone in that situation for depending on takeout and mcdonalds and stuff, though. however, i doubt someone in that kind of situation would have time to complain about veganism when they’re in a stressful environment and need to constantly worry about getting food on the table. if you could spare enough time writing that long post, i’m pretty sure you also have time to think about making different food choices. . .

Now, I don’t know your situation, I’m not going to claim I understand what you have and haven’t faced in your lifetime, but this (and the rest of that section thereafter), does shed light on what seems to be a disjointed understanding of what poverty and restricted food choice actually looks like.

First, while looking through food statistics in the US for those links, there is no statistical data on produce availability, outside of the data they have on food deserts. And not just that I couldn’t find it; there is an actual acknowledged lack of quantifiable data. People have tried, and there’s just no way to account for or normalize any sort of hard figure on these problems from an availability standpoint.

Second, “cheap” is subjective. Your idea of cheap may not be the same as mine if we have different amounts of disposable income after bills. But when it comes to cost vs. calories, non-vegan is always less expensive. Healthy foods are up-sold at a higher price because there’s a internalized notion in capitalistic culture that says “quality” justifies a higher price. It’s worth more, so it costs more, with worth describing a physical necessity, in this case.

To someone without financial security, the question becomes, “what can I buy that will stretch the length of time until my next paycheck?”

That kind of financial insecurity isn’t so stark when you look at who it’s affecting. Imagine a scenario like a family of four in a white suburban neighborhood who can feed all four of them for a days on a boneless ham at a dollar per pound, which is a whole hell of a lot less expensive that a nutritionally comparable plant-based substitute.

Veganism isn’t cost effective, and even if someone can afford the vegan options one week, they are not guaranteed that same outcome the next, so it’s not sustainable. 

For you, yeah, maybe it is, but for a majority of Americans, veganism is money and food lost. It’s getting your paycheck and attempting to cut even more room out for the added expense, without even the benefit of gaining you more food per dollar spent, and while also gambling that you’ll have the wiggle room every week to do so. What happens when that one bad week comes and the choice comes down to not being able to feed yourself for the whole week, or having to get sick when you force re-acclimation to meat-based products that’ll at least last until your next paycheck?

That’s an irresponsible risk, and that risk exists entirely because corporations stand to profit off an ideology that makes healthier lifestyle choices like veganism more expensive.

Which makes arguments like this ignorant, at best, and elitist worst:

like the entertainment thing. i know that not everyone can go vegan, but a majority of the people in the world can, so if someone chooses to eat meat when there are millions of other options, then they are doing it for their enjoyment, or as you can also say, entertainment. of course you don’t get entertainment out of what happens to the animals in factory farms, but you are still buying the meat because you enjoy how they taste. the treatment of the animals is just a factor that plays into it.

Removing this to a world-wide argument makes it even worse; 1 in 9 people in the world suffers from chronic undernourishment. And that statistic just accounts for people going hungry. 80% of the world’s population lives on less than $10 a day. That’s ten dollars spread across bills and other expenses beyond just food.

The necessity of meat-based products in most people’s lives is just that; a necessity. So long as veganism remains more expensive than the alternative, that necessity remains.

In both of their replies, veganfacts pushed an unrepentant “us vs them, and they kill animals for fun” kind of ideology. They hold themselves so high above the issue, they, again, twisted the purchase of meat products from a store to sit on par with active animal slaughter. 

And the original post was just about bunnies being a good alternative for vegans trying to figure out how to find balance between their pets dietary needs and their own ethics!

They stepped into a post completely unrelated to the point they wanted to push - a point not counter-intuitive to their own ideology - with the express purpose of demonizing non-vegans.

They’re condescending and ignorant. They don’t care about facilitating the vegan movement, because if they did, they’d look at the inaccessibility of the lifestyle and fight for that instead of vilifying non-vegans for “paying people to kill animals.”

They believe veganism makes vegans inherently morally righteous in all their pursuits to non-vegans. That’s the only reason their mind would’ve gone to that reply upon reading my original post. And that is not how veganism should be exemplified.

Doing so frames veganism as an elitist movement that cares more about mocking non-vegans than it does about making sure it has the populous support to take on the animal cruelty in the animal food industry that it currently doesn’t have.

More vegans means more power against the people committing these crimes, but the more vegans there are, the less impact that “non-vegans pay people to kill animals for them to enjoy” kind of rhetoric actually has.

That’s a rhetoric veganfacts pushes. That’s why they jump down the throats of people discussing vegans as morally level with non-vegans. They were defending their own moral righteousness, not a movement that seeks to foster education toward better lives for the people they vilify.

Other vegans are doing that though. They educate. They facilitate and they’re tackling the issue of food availability, and they are honestly working their asses off to make a real change in the world.

And you’ll recognize those people when you start looking for the pattern. They’re the ones who acknowledge and understand why the vegan movement stalls the way it does. They’re the ones building community vegetable gardens and making sure people have food on their table before they even begin worrying about making sure that food is cruelty free.

They don’t use divisive or inflammatory language, and the word carnist is the last thing they’d think to call someone because they know that word mocks basic human needs and makes monsters out of people just so they can justify the claim that that’s what’s wrong with the world.

Veganfacts is not how veganism should look. Their rhetoric is not universal, and they do not deserve to be exemplified.

Veganism is good.

That person is not.

[hella-free-space]

Anything under 5 gallons is too small for a betta, i know 2.5 is the *minimum minimum* but it is the same as putting your betta to a bucket and calling it a day. They need space. Plus a "tank" that small can't hold a stable cycle and is more difficult to keep as, Let's say a proper 10 g tank

aight so...i wrote this big long thing (i’m a really wordy person, and i ramble, so bare with me) when this ask got sent like a month and a half ago. i typed it up on my phone, but mobile tumblr does this thing where if you take more than x minutes to write a reply, it doesnt let you save what you’ve written as a draft and it default posts to your main. and then it just doesnt post ever...so now i’m here, on desktop, to write you this long-overdue reply, Anon.this ask came shortly after a post/comment/reblog on tank size recommendation, so i kind of want assume that this same person who was discussing with me sent this ask, but i’m not going to assume but this person asked on anon... I’m currently writing a long-winded caresheet about bettas (which i plan to post for peer-review tomorrow), and so far i’ve written this about Tank Size:******“2.5gallons:The absolute minimum, I do not recommend keeping a betta in anything less thanthis because even in a cycled 2.5, keeping a *stable* cycle is very difficult,and requires more frequent water changes (1-2x per week at least). In a tank this small, you’ll mostlikely need to buy an adjustable heater as well, since the smallest (trustworthy)heaters on the market are 7-7.5 watts, and depending on where you live or howhot/cold you keep your house/room, the heat will fluctuate too often, or be toohot or too cold since the volume of water is quite small. A 2.5 gallon bettatank is doable.5 gallons:A great median for those who want to give their bettas a wonderful environment,but may be cramped on space, move around often, or whose living arrangementshave aquarium-related restrictions. A cycled 5 gallon tank with a bettagenerally requires a water change 1x a week at least. A 5 gallon tank also keeps a more stable cycle than a 2.5 gallon, and over-heating is less of an issue/concern. I still recommend anadjustable heater (I’ll always recommend an adjustable heater), though, as I’vefound that even with an appropriately-sized preset heater/non-adjustableheater, the temperature fluctuates too often and by too much. A 5 gallon is aperfectly good choice!10+ gallons:A palace! Your new betta would love to have a 10+ gallon tank! They’ll swimover every inch of it, I promise its not too big :) A fantastic choice for thosethat have the space and can afford to set up a 10 gallon or larger with all thebells and whistles (more décor, larger filter, stronger heater, etc. than the smaller tanks). Your fish will thank you and brag to all their fish friends that they ended up with some pretty sweet digs.note: If you feel you can’t give your betta a 10+ gallon tank, and you can onlyafford a 2.5 or 5 gallon setup (or something inbetween), that DOES NOT mean I think you’re a bad fish parent ❤ as long as you can provide the basicnecessities your fish requires and keep on top of water quality, and then do *what* youcan, *when* you can, youre doing it right :) (Never stop improving!! never stop learning!!) Maybe it’ll be a few months before you can buy your fish thatnew hide or a few extra plants, or maybe you’ll have to wait til xmas or yourbday to be able to afford a larger tank if that’s what you want, and that’sokay. As long as you do the best within your means (provided your animal’sbasic needs are met), that’s all your fish would ask of you ❤”******note: i address properly decorating/filtering/heating/etc in the rest of the care sheet. this is literally JUST the section on tank size.1. addressing that “2.5 gallons is the *minimum minimum*” statement anon made:its just *the minimum*...when you’re saying how small is too small and how big is too big without any defining *objective* factors, then it becomes subjective and opinionated. I addressed the cycling issue above in what I wrote for the care sheet. imo a 2.5 gallon is doable. is it amazin, perfect, the best you can give your betta? no...but neither is a 5 gallon .-. so, if your standard of minimum is based upon your opinion of what looks too cramped, then thats okay, and good on you for promoting a 5 gallon as a minimum tank. and i’m not saying that sarcastically, either, i really do wish i could promote 5 gallons as the minimum tank size, but when i’m explaining fish care to someone in the middle of the store, i have to give them objective facts (like the ones listed above under the 2.5 gallon section)To someone who thinks that .5 gallon bowl at petsmart is okay, who is standing in the aisle with betta in hand, me going up to them and telling them 5 gallons is the minimum just cuz its bigger isn’t going to change their mind 90% of the time. with a 2.5 its still on the small side, but at least i can give them objective facts. and i DO say “but if you get a 5.5 gallon its 2$ more for 2x the size, and a 10 gallon is 4x the size for that same 2$ more! and it’ll be easier to heat, cycle, and you’ll have to do less wc on it :) plus more room for decor!! decorating a tank is almost as fun as picking out your new fish!! :DD” so dont get me wrong there, please. but so many people equate bigger tank with more work, suggesting a “proper 10 gallon tank” to someone standing in that checkout line with their fish, some cheap food, a bowl, and a plastic plant? if they took my advice i’d buy a friggin lottery ticket. (I actually think this is what the post was about originally, that one i was having the discussion on before this ask arrived...if i find it, i’ll give a link to it)2. addresing the “it is the same as putting your betta to a bucket and calling it a day.” statement:they make 5 gallon buckets so i see no problems there [somewhat sarcastic, somewhat serious tone]. Just because a tank isn’t glass or acrylic doesn’t mean you cant keep a fish in it imo. Plenty of people use tub-tanks so i dont see why a bucket would be so bad so long as it meets those minimum requirements (2.5+, 76-82, filtered, good food, appropriate decor, lighting a must since the bucket probably isnt see-through and fish shouldnt live in complete and total darkness imo) and the material doesnt leach chemicals, I dont really see a problem? i mean, most buckets are taller than they are wide, but so are some glass/acrylic tanks (fluval spec 3)...i get what you’re trying to say here (i think), though: just throwing a fish in some water and calling it good ain’t good, aint gonna cut it. just like you dont want to suggest 2.5 as the “minimum minimum” because you believe it is inadequate for a betta.3. adressing the “They need space. Plus a "tank" that small can't hold a stable cycle and is more difficult to keep as, Let's say a proper 10 g tank” statement:pretty much agree with this part. smaller tanks dont hold cycles as easily as larger tanks, just the way it is (this does NOT tank into account overstocking, uncycled/cycling tanks, or chemical/parameter spikes). I agree completely that a 10 gallon tank will hold a much more stable cycle than a 2.5 or 5 gallon will. especially if the stock is the same (i.e. one betta). I also agree that bettas need space, and would like to add that longer tanks > taller tanks, since bettas (and most other fish) swim side-to-side and not up and down. a larger tank (again, same stock) will also require less wc/maintenance than a smaller tank. but, imma reiterate, thats hard to explain to the betta+bowl person you see walkin around at your local lfs/lps/chain store...in most people’s mind larger = more work, even tho WE (and hopefully all of fishblr/bettablr) know that that’s not true, even if we do our best to explain that to the general/uneducated/betta-ignorant populace.In the end, i think maybe you (anon) and me have different approaches to the same goal. we both want to improve quality of life for bettas, debunk myths about them, educate people about them, make sure people do right by their pets.i just want to change everyone’s mind first, get more people up to speed and get them out of Bowls-Are-Okay-For-Fish-Land, steer them away from those awful glass prisons and gimmicky tanks and THEN talk about how they can really spoil their pet, how to improve as a Pet ParentTM and give their pet The BestTM. let the water heat up really slowly so to speak (like hot tub, or a lobster pot), since i think I’ll be able to change more minds that way: slowly, steadily...thats what changed my mind, and from personal experience this is what changes the minds of others more easily.If anyone has anything to add, rebutt, comment, reply, etc. please feel free to <3#told yall i was long-winded and rambly #still dont know how to add hashtags to these dang replies ;-; #fishblr #bettablr #Ronireplies