#ABSOLUTELY REFUSE to spellcheck this

[leebrontide]

Shed Letters: the complete archive so far

For all the people who've followed me recently- at least SOME of whom must be actual people and not clickbait bots- I have a free monthly newsletter that I'm really proud of. If you like what I write here, you can access my once month efforts to present organized, spellchecked, researched thoughts, often with cool links for further reading.

If you wanna read about writing, ableism, queerness, psychology, research deep dives into history, science, and current events that are funneling into my writing, consider looking over some of what I have on offer, and maybe consider subscribing.

Also contains cat pictures!

Reblogs welcome!

You Heard It Here, First! An announcement of a co-authoring project in the works where we use a pulpy vampire romance to explore queer history in MN

What Stories Are You Made Of? A meditation on renegotiating my relationship to the problematic queer media I had access to in the 90s

What Do We Celebrate? Pics and the story of how I ended up throwing a T(ea) party to celebrate starting HRT, and my nonlinear path to hormone therapy

Why I’m Researching a 19th Century Cult This Month What’s a civil war era cult have to do with the scifi YA I’m writing? (Hint- they were literally trying to breed messiahs into existence).

Another Kind of Coziness How can anti-ableist theory make my writing space so damn cozy and effective?

A Unique Character Development Technique  Learn about one of my most ridiculous ways of intuitively developing new characters. 

The Golden Girls, D&D, and The Newest Way I’m Refusing to Make Writing Solitary This is actually all one topic

Tractors, Cybernetics and the Radical at the Radioshack That time I got radicalized by a Radioshack cashier and what it has to do with disability activism

The Cartoons Are Coming for Our Collective Trauma A therapist/YA writer’s thoughts about why kids shows are all about intergenerational trauma these days, and what I think it means for our future

People Who Need People Writing about The Giver, Each of Us a Desert, and what it’s been like having one of those faces that compels people to tell me things I have absolutely no business knowing

The Bananabook Method  What I call “The Bananabook Method” of book planning/pre-writing. Please enjoy my collection of absurd tiny colorful notebooks and this explanation of my *~process~*.

Because Everybody Was Calling for YA Scifi About HIPAA, Right? Why I’m writing about medical data privacy practices in scifi books for teens. Contains a LOT of info about the current systems and their limits.

Tinkering With Cyberpunk I was interviewed about cyberpunk and disabilities by the lovely Zuhura Ismail, whose wonderful cyberpunk art is also included in this edition.

Lies I Tell Myself, Security Blankets and Backstitch Drafting Another writing process post! Features a very nice cat picture, more writing with memory problems, and my proposal that creative project advice is only as useful as it is adaptable.

Of Flesh and Gundams What somatic psychology has to say about the pursuit of perfection and immortality via tech.

Gods and Ink - the new digital era of old school mythmaking and my newest tattoo.

[rivolted]

today  i  bring  you  Goth  Stylist.  tomorrow  ?  who  knows.

[ LEE JIEUN, DEMIGIRL, SHE/THEY ]    well, if it isn’t nerilla baron, our resident DISTRICT 12 STYLIST ! i’m so excited to see what they’ll be bringing to the table this year. they’re twenty six years old, & they’ve been in this position for less than a year. i hope they’re ready for the publicity — the tabloids have already started talking about them ! anyways, i got to meet them once, & they’re a lot like the satisfying pop of a champagne bottle, remember: snakes in the grass don’t always resemble snakes, a light in your eyes that glints not like the stars but like a knife, the hollow stillness in the air just after a camera flash.  

CHARACTER  INSPO  :  mai  (  atla  ),  juliette cai  (  these violent delights  ),  kaz brekker  (  grishaverse  ),  damon salvatore  (  from the books. I Do Not Perceive Show!Damon  )

𝖇𝖚𝖙   𝖘𝖍𝖊   𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖘   𝖉𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖎𝖙𝖞   .    it’s    fathomless   .   it   is   not   something   that   can    be    measured    or    studied    .    𝙄𝙏'𝙎    𝙋𝘼𝙄𝙉    ,    𝙀𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙏𝙔    ,    𝘼𝙉𝘿    𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙍𝙊𝙍    .    it’s    endless    ,    all    consuming    fire    .    𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫    .

name   :   nerilla baron.

age   :   twenty six.

gender & pronouns   :   demigirl & she / her / they / them  (  alternating, but some days they just want to hear one or the other  ).

district  :   two

occupation   :   district 12 stylist.

moral alignment   :   chaotic good.

wcs at the end  !

great-grandchild of one of the first gamemakers, nerilla belongs to a long line of capitol greats. their family is mostly notorious for their work in the hunger games, and very rarely do any of the barons take a job that isn’t somehow directly tied to the games; their brother, for example, is a painter who remakes particularly popular scenes from the games. 

so, growing up, they found themselves in the lap of luxury. they had no need to work for anything; if she wanted something, she got it. there was only one rule in the home: be good. if you were good, you were set for life. 

originally, nerilla did not want to be a stylist. she wanted to be a painter, but her brother was already well on his way to doing so, and a rule of being good was no competing with each other. assuming styling people would be the next best thing, she was thrown to work by her parents, immediately placed as an assistant to one of the oldest game stylists working at the time. here, they found a love for the occupation that was all but forced upon them; they were still making art, but now someone could wear it on their body. fashion is statements. how better to communicate ?

nerilla grew in popularity very quickly, but, to the dismay of their family, refrained from becoming a games stylist, instead taking jobs from high-paying & esteemed capitol clients. they, blatantly, denied their parent’s insistence to style for the games. they did not say why, but the thought of dressing someone to send them off to slaughter made them sick. for a while they did do some game-inspired outfits for clients, but stopped because, again, for some reason it gave her a guilty conscience. 

she’s in the right place in the wrong time when it happens. a party. a slip of the tongue, a case of mistaken identity, perhaps even a deliberate act. this person changes nerilla’s perspective on everything. it happens so quickly, one moment betrayal leaves someone’s mouth, and suddenly nerilla’s like a spark that’s been lit up, with the sudden, incredible realization: yes, this should be changed. 

it’s dangerous. it’s idiotic. it’s the very antithesis of being good, and yet they can’t help it. everything about panem is wrong. for the first time, they put into words their disgust with the treatment of the districts. 

applying to be a stylist in the next games was the logical step. get close to those in power, closer to those without. her name recognition, their work recognition - all enough to have landed them a spot in a career district, maybe, but they shut that idea down. they wanted to experience the worst. they wanted to see it. 

okay thsi is going to be nigh incoherent but. u know colette from ratatouille ? edna mode ? that’s nerilla. very strict. very much likes things their way. 

she’s also Very Scary, and it doesn’t help that she dresses Very Scary. this is on purpose. only the bravest of crows reap the rewards from approaching scarecrows, and nerilla has no patience for cowardice. also i feel like most people in the capitol who dress eccentrically do it with bright clothing ? WHERE ARE THE GOTHS SUZANNE. 

they will literally never say it but they care... a lot. about their work, about other people. they’re just very tough-love about it. 

wcs  !

anything to do with her job. the stylist she apprenticed under, ppl she’s styled/regulars, an up-and-coming stylist or a stylist she’s got a bit of a rivalry with, SOMEONE WHO WANTS TO APPRENTICE/STUDY UNDER HER ??

their brother.... pl e ase.. . . .. THEIR BROTHER ! he’s a painter and very pro-capitol and i imagine him as someone who looks/acts all sunshine and rainbows but is every much Evil. they’re close for now, they have been since they were children, but as the rebellion kicks off their relationship will go sour so quickly. please. Sibling Angst. also i imagine he’s like a year younger or their twin but he can be older if u want. 

not technically a connection but if u have a character in the d12 team. Hello. MMZMMXMXM

uh literally anything they’re a very Fun character for me they deserve some Fun connections

[itcamefromthetoybox]

The Mysterious King

Pro Wrestling: the world’s most violent soap opera. I love watching wrestling, but unfortunately haven’t gotten to in forever. However, that’s what toys are for! If I can’t watch matches, I’ll make my own, with Batman, Transformers, Skeletor, and my fiancee’s plush collection when she isn’t looking! As a kid, I watched wrestling with my parents, and in college, I watched with my friends. It’s something I am never not up for watching. One of my personal favorites, and a guy about to get his own Cartoon Network series, is the masked wrestler Rey Mysterio, a name my spellcheck keeps trying to screw up. So because he’s getting his own show soon (“Rey Mysterio vs. La Oscuridad,” which translates to “Rey Mysterio vs The Darkness”), I wanna take today to talk about “WWE Elite Collection Rey Mysterio!”

Rey Mysterio is probably the most well-known masked wrestler in America, since he’s part of America’s most well-known wrestling organization, the WWE. He’s also a huge deal in Mexico, he’s a highly talented performer, he trained his son to wrestle, he was trained by his famous luchador uncle, and he’s always friendly with kids. He’s one of the few wrestlers to never seriously go villain, and the one time he tried is best left forgotten, brief as it was. Mysterio’s most well-known trait, though, and the thing people first think of when they think of him, is his mask. He has a whole bunch of masks and both has fun wearing and is fun to watch wearing different costumes. Frankly, he’s just delightful, so let’s hope this toy of him lives up to that.

Rey Mysterio’s had a lot of toys over the years. I mean, A LOT. Honestly, you could easily build an entire collection of just Mysterio toys without any challenge or empty space, and the main reason for that is his many different costumes. He likes to switch up his outfits, unlike most men and me, who will wear literally the same thing for a week at a time. Every one of Rey’s outfits has gotten a toy, which, combined with his impressive tattoo collection, has led to some visually fantastic toys, and this figure is no exception. Rey’s black and orange costume is really visually glorious, and the red gloves and white paint on his legs, armbands, and eyes really complete the look and conjure images of fire.

My camera is a phone. There was no way in hell I was gonna be able to get a good tattoo pic with that.

 One thing on this figure I absolutely adore is his face. He just looks so happy and energetic, that looking at the toy’s face makes me feel happy and energetic! It’s such a nice change from the stoic, angry, or “murder clown” faces that so many action figures tend to have.

Look how happy he is to be here!

His tattoos can be a bit much for the eye, I have to admit, but this is a toy of an actual dude and that dude is covered in tatoos, so you gotta allow for the abundance of ink for accuracy. On some of his figures, it works, really well, but on this one, it feels really busy. What’s cool about the tattoos, though, is how detailed they are. They’re all filled in and feel very organic on the toy. You can really tell that the toy designers put a ton of work and effort into them, and even though they’re harder to see from a distance and feel too busy, they’re real works of art up close.

Rey’s also got a ton of articulation, which is what you should expect from the Elite Collection. Think of it as WWE’s answer to Hasbro’s Marvel Legends: highly detailed, lots of articulation, aimed at the collectors. He’s got articulation all over his body, with the one weak spot being his head. Unfortunately, due to the sculpting, Rey Mysterio cannot look up. Thankfully, he makes up for this with all the rest of his articulation, leading to some real dynamic poses.

I have been just LOVING playing with this dude!

His accessories are pretty great, too. Rey’s arm and wrist bands are removable, though I refuse to take them off because I would lose them so damn fast, and he comes with two alternate hands and a shirt. The hands are pretty easy to remove, but be careful to not bend or break their pegs. It’s not an issue I ran into here, but I would still advise caution. The shirt can be put on without removing Rey’s head, which is nice, but doesn’t look good on him. It honestly kinda makes me think of a sandwich board. The paint design on it is great, though.

Definitely would look better made of cloth.

“Elite Collection Rey Mysterio” goes for about $20 and is available at mass retail. He is aimed at collectors, though older kids would like him too. Definitely don’t give him to people who put things in their mouths, though. That’s how you lose a hand and wrist band. Would I recommend him? Oh yeah! He’s a great representation of the real Rey Mysterio, with a lot of articulation and detailing, and I’ve been having a lot of fun with him, so definitely give him a shot. This is JL signing off and wishing you Happy Toy Hunting!

[blueskittlesart]

my motivation is ridiculous like ok. i absolutely refuse to proofread or even like spellcheck my final english essay because i dont give 2 shits HOWEVER i did just spend roughly an hour drawing my own graphics for my final physics presentation because i want it to look nice

[mhafiction]

Out & About (Pt. 3)

Read Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 4

Pairing: Bakugo x Reader

Fluff/Friends to Lovers (?), swearing

Synopsis: Reader is very close friends with the Bakusquad, except for the aloof and mysterious Bakugo. He still intrigues them however, and a night out with the group might actually be the the push they need to really get the ball rolling on transitioning their awkward comradery into something a little- more.

Note: It’s done haha. I didn’t spellcheck it that well... forgive me -K.

“There’s a shopping mall not far from here!” Mina squealed, her ink-black eyes glittering with excitement.

“It’s that new one that opened last week, right?” Kirishima mused. “We should totally check it out.

You stifled a yawn, then checked your phone. It was still considerably early, but for some reason your eyelids were heavy with exhaustion. It was almost as if an entire era had passed in the time you left the dorm. But maybe that wasn’t so bad.

Bakugo kept his gaze fixed squarely ahead. Unshakable, even with your charming presence. It didn’t matter to you. What was pleasing was the fact that he was walking side by side next to you, matching your stride with each step. Perhaps it was the lingering warmth of his jacket combined with the romanticism of snowfall, but you couldn’t help but wear a sleepy little smile.

Once arriving at the shopping center, you plopped down on a bench, waving for your friends to carry on without you. “I need to rest my feet for now, I’ll catch up.” The heat from the interior met your freezing cheeks, and you basked in the comfort for a moment. Bakugo hesitated, concern flashing in his eyes, before deciding to join you on the bench. “Huh? Bakubro, you’re not coming?” Kirishima asked, a playful grin dancing on his face. Bakugo met his boyish demeanor with a scowl. “No.”

“Ahaha, I see.” Sero nodded with a quiet understanding, glancing at your drooping form, then raising an eyebrow at Bakugo. The hotheaded blonde immediately flushed. “Tch.” He tossed back his head with an air of false nonchalance. “Go away.” Kaminari clicked his tongue. “Oh Bakugo, quit playing the tough card. We all know deep down you’re a big ole softie. I mean, you should just see the way you act around Y/N-” Bakugo had to be restrained by Kirishima to keep him from lunging at Denki. “GET LOST ASSHOLE!” Sparks flew from his hands. “Whoa, touched a nerve there.”

Bakugo was lucky that his friends abided with this demand, even if it was with some teasing. He was even luckier that you were so close to passing out, and therefore completely checked out of the conversation. He scrolled on his phone, watching you out of the corner of his eye. Sometimes you could be a real pain. What if some creep had cozied up to you while you were in this inebriated condition? His hands gripped his phone tighter thinking about that. Didn’t you care about yourself? He watched your head bob up and down, fighting to stay awake. Hmph. You’re lucky you’re so cute.

The shopping mall hummed with activity, not strange for a Friday evening. Girls flitted about from store to store, children cried and threw tantrums as they were led along by their parents, and some were waiting languidly on their benches just as Bakugo was. Why was he waiting, anyway? You probably wouldn’t want to move for a while, and deep down he knew you could handle yourself.

Then, while his thoughts were focused on his social media feed, Bakugo felt a weight on his right shoulder. Slightly frozen from shock, he stiffly turns his head to greet your sleeping face smushed squarely against his upper arm. He felt his cheeks grow hot, and he silently cursed you for being so damn pretty, even when you were unconscious. He drank in your features, trying to capture this moment in his mind. Wait a minute.

Slowly, very, very slowly, he shifts his phone to his left hand, gently angling it’s camera to capture your entire face. He prays you don’t wake up at the wrong time. Almost got it. Just adjust the light here and- Click. He let’s out a deep breath, a self-congratulating smirk on his face. Bakugo brushes a hair from your face, almost unconscious of the action, then winces at the memory in the restaurant. That had been so awkward. He had been overcome with a desire to help you, to be close to you, to touch you. What he had thought was just a passing crush had become something so intense that it scared him. He didn’t even know it was possible to like someone that much. And now, in this mediocre shopping mall, you were slumped over his shoulder. Your soft snores music to his ears and dulling his senses till all there was was you, and all that mattered was you. You stirred, your calm little face convulsing into a yawn. Bakugo held back a barking laugh at how your brows knit together, how you stretched like a shaking kitten, and how absolutely imperfect you seemed at the moment. His heart clenched as he realized that he was way too far gone. Bakugo loves you. He loved everything you did and how you did it, how you laughed and how you cried and how you woke up from a nap. It made him feel soft and warm on the inside. Gross. Pondering this for a while, he wondered how a person as good as you could even like him. I mean, you did, right? That’s why you tried to talk to him or train with him. Truthfully, he knew that he was a prickly type- he hadn’t met you halfway in the attempts to grow closer. But being around you was almost nerve-wrecking. He wanted to be better for you. After tonight, well, things probably wouldn’t be the same. In a good way. That’s a step at least. Bakugo gazed down at the picture he had taken of you. Your face made him unconsciously happy, and butterflies erupted in his stomach. What the fuck was this?? Was he dying??

He weighed his options, going back and forth in his head... fuck it. He set the photo to his lock screen chuckling with a quiet giddiness, then chastised himself for being so fanciful and indulgent. Now that was just sad. But he didn’t change it back.

You rubbed your eyes, blinking in the fluorescent white light. For a second, you forgot where you were. Your eyelids fluttered shut, your mind weary, hoping to return to your nap. It was so soft here for some reason...then, your nose was greeted with the familiar smell of burnt sugar.

“Bakugo?” You muttered, still in a daze. He jumped in suprise, hitting your chin, and the fact that you had been laying on him all this time snapped you awake. Oh fuck.

You wipe a bit of drool from your mouth, trying to compose yourself. Oh my god he probably thinks I’m disgusting and lazy and-

You make a quick effort to smooth out your hair, hoping to death that you hadn’t done anything embarrassing while you were unconscious. Awkwardly shrinking yourself so that you’d make as little physical contact with Bakugo as possible, you give him a quick glance. “S-Sorry.” It was the return of his soft, caring attention that almost caught you of guard. “Tch. Don’t worry about it,” he mumbled, the gentleness in his voice barely hidden with a raspy facade of annoyance. Your eyes catch on his phone for one second as a notification pops up. Was that... you? You quickly pull your gaze away from it, banishing the thought from your head. No way, no how. That was ridiculous. Why would he even put me as his lock screen?

You shift in your seat a bit, still tired but a little antsy. You couldn’t just sit here in awkward silence with him. Pushing yourself through the haze of exhaustion, you slowly stand up, offering a nod to Bakugo. “Let’s go find the others.”

It seemed that all your friends were refusing to answer your phone calls. “What the fuck?” You murmured. “I mean, Denki’s with them.”

“Bastards probably forgot a cord,” Bakugo sighed, not surprised by their ignorance in the least. “Better just search for them.”

You two walk across the mall, scanning the storefronts, shoulders less than an inch apart. Bakugo is aware of how close you are, and bristles every time your hand brushes up against his own. You aren’t. Your limbs are heavy with exhaustion, your eyes fight to stay open, and the warmth of Bakugo beside you...

You latch onto his arm, forgetting your previous aversions to touching him. Bakugo stiffens up, but says nothing. He watches you yawn, then cozy into the crook of his elbow, burying your nose in the fabric of his shirt. “Y’know Bakugo, you really are amazing,” you whisper, your light little voice slurring from sleepiness. Bakugo’s breath hitches in the back of his throat. Did you really just say that?

“For the record, I don’t care what everyone else says. You’re really nice.” You giggle, reaching for a spike of his hair, then patting his head softly. “And pretty.” That’s it for Bakugo, he panics, feeling his face go completely red. He’s dead silent, shocked that you were being so bold. You pout. “I think I really like you Bakugo.”

“You do?” He whispers back, his gravelly voice infused with disbelief.

“Sure. I think you’re gonna be the No. 1 Hero one day.” You press your fingers together, growing comically bashful. “Can I kiss you?”

Bakugo reels back at the request, eyes wide as he runs those words you just uttered through his head. Just exactly how tired were you?

You bury your face in your hands. “Oh god, I’m sorry Katsuki-“ you yelp. “Uh-uhm, Bakugo-“

“No, it’s okay. I-“ he gulps, swallowing his stress. “I like Katsuki.”

“...Ok, Katsuki.” He felt like melting, hearing you say his name.

Bakugo rubs the back of his neck apprehensively, deciding to proceed with caution. “How about we talk about this when you’re less...loopy?” You give him a single nod, still rested firmly on his arm. He didn’t mind.

“But you know, Katsuki. I really mean it,” you say under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear. “But you’re right. I don’t want to burden you with-“

Bakugo stopped dead in his tracks. Burden him? How could you even suggest something like that? He grimaced, cursing himself for his stupid prickly attitude and his inability to talk to people. Especially people as good as you.

“Is that really how you feel, Y/N?”

“Hm?”

He grabs your shoulders, making sure that you’re looking him square in the eye. A blush creeps onto your face.

“You’re not burdening me, you got it, idiot?”

Why’d he have to say it like that? He inhales, pushing himself to tell you more. To let you know that he liked you, too. More than you’d ever know.

“Listen Y/N, I think that you’re...you’re pretty great. That is to say, you’re not bad. You’re better than most of the extras I know. I mean-“

He gives a shout of aggravation, furious at how impossible it is to just tell his crush he likes them.

“ARGH! What I mean is! ...You remember how I promised I’d tell you when you’re being stupid? Well, you’re being stupid right now, if you think that you’re a goddamn- a goddamn burden.”

He chokes on his words, anger and sorrow welling up in his throat.

“Katsuki.” You bring a hand to his face, watching those eyes of his show you everything you needed to know. Bakugo had opened his heart to you. Had this sweetness been in there all along? Had his love really been there forever?

You frowned, watching his pained expression. What could you possibly say to him...

“Let me see your phone.”

His brows furrow together, and he straightens up. But he complies, tossing his phone to you while looking the other way.

You hummed, tapping on his screen. It illuminates, and as you suspected, it was you. Sleeping. On Bakugo. You feel your face grow hot, then hand him back the phone.

“Well, I guess you’re ahead of the curve.”

Bakugo snorts. “Bold words from the one who fell asleep on me and then asked for a kiss.”

You scratch your cheek, taking a deep breath.

“Well, you didn’t really give me an answer.”

Bakugo’s eyes widen, then offer you a mischievous twinkle. He smirks, a little cocky. “I guess I didn’t.”

“So.”

“...”

Bakugo sighs, then matches his gaze with yours. You can tell he’s nervous. Inching closer and closer, you watch his face grow redder and redder as he leans in. Once his nose is basically touching yours, he whispers softly “Listen. I’ve never done this before, so. Don’t make fun of me.” Then he closed the distance.

Caramel overwhelmed your senses. His lips met yours with confidence yet caution, planted squarely with little mercy. He was so sure of himself, and at the same time so gentle. The kiss was slow, one you both eased into as he grabbed your hip to pull you closer. Your hands played in his hair, and he shuddered, pulling away just for a moment to look at your face. You two stood there, intertwined, in the blinking lights of a shopping mall with the whole world moving past you. You smile, pushing back, then offering your hand to Bakugo. At least now, you were awake.

“Let’s go find the others?” He intertwined his calloused palm with yours. “Yeah.”

Truly, this would be a night to remember.

[rpbetter]

Traditional Writing Advice & RP

I see a lot of people reblogging writing advice posts, and while it pleases me to see people trying to appreciate RP as writing, those pieces of advice don’t always translate from traditional writing to RP writing.

Following the advice for writing a traditional book manuscript you want to have published, you are going to run into some issues if you follow every point of it faithfully in an RP setting.

For one thing, this isn’t just your story, you’re telling it with another writer. In RP, our reading audience and our writing partners are the same. We have to create well-written, engaging stories that are also meant to be picked up by someone else and furthered. For another, even among the most writing proficient RPers, this is a more relaxed style of writing for a reason; we’re writing neither a paper to be graded nor a work to be published, we’re expressing creativity with other people. It can fall flat quickly, to your writing partners and to yourself, if you are writing in an extremely formal manner in RP.

Writing is one of the creative pursuits that has lent itself heavily to what I’m going to politely call snobbery, and that is part of the problem here. The RPC is rather filled with muns who are self-concious, devalue themselves and their work, and can be desperate for the approval of being A Real Writer. If you love writing and you do write, you’re a writer. No, that definitely doesn’t make you a good writer, but following rules not meant for you isn’t going to make you one either.

There is a wrong way to write, actually, there are hundreds of wrong ways to write that make me want to rip my own face off on the regular. The thing is, there is no one-size-fits-all correct way to write any more than there is such a standard in visual art. There are principles that one should know and follow, but your style might be neoclassical or modern or impressionist. Saying that, in my personal opinion, things falling under the heading of modern-style art is horrid, thus inherently wrong and not art, I’d be imposing my personal aesthetics instead of encouraging people to follow appropriate principles, run with their passion and skill, and make art that moves people who are not me. That’s important, in general, but it’s even more important when we’re talking about creative art as a hobby-as a legitimate passion project one isn’t obliged to devote themselves to.

That’s the way we need to be looking at writing as well. Not as an academic and absolute Right Way, but as an art form that has principles, and indeed, literal form. By insisting otherwise, we’ve damaged writing as a hobby and a profession, and it really shows in the RPC where you have a rather stark division of muns who, on the one side, are so ate up with bizarre concepts their professor threw out about never using “said,” forcing the ideology of their personal academic experience on others, and using traditional writing advice as Word of God to shame others and elevate themselves. On the other side, you have a ton of muns who just won’t even bother anymore, and why should they? They’re genuinely not up to par, but working on it means both a process of shaming and killing their own creative experience.

In saying all this, I want to be really clear here: I am in no way saying that shitty writing, an inability to follow basic grammatical principles, being unwilling to use the damn spellcheck that is standard everywhere, and having no concept of things like storytelling, characterization, and word flow is excusable or ideal. 

It isn’t. It’s a terribly destructive force in the RPC, and I’m not in the camp of excusing disinterest in learning, improving, and perfecting one’s hobby because it is an unpaid hobby. In my opinion, it’s part of the blight of the current RPC. However, the snobbery and inability to recognize that there is nuance to learning and writing situations has done nothing but worsen this issue.

So, that being said, some items that are 100% good to use traditionally and in RP include:

Grammar, spelling, and punctuation.

We’re not all native English speakers, and grammar is difficult anyway. It can also turn a story bland with expedience when too properly adhered to. Know the basic principles, but also, be asking yourself about both popular works of fiction and your own favorite works. Chances are, they do not strictly adhere to the rules. Experienced, naturally gifted, and learned writers all manipulate those rules to work for their stories, characters, world-building, and so on. It becomes a personalized writing style, and it’s alright if it takes you some practice to find yours.

Just remember, grammar exists for a reason. Removing or mutating too much will leave you with a difficult to read and understand mess that isn’t a style, just a fucking mess.

If you struggle with grammar, the best way to help yourself is to practice. Additionally, seeing what errors you are making can be quite helpful; Grammarly offers a free add on for both Google Chrome and FireFox that will show you spelling and grammar mistakes. It also explains the mistake, while offering you a suggested fix. This way, you can see the mistakes you’re making in action. {Presumably, there are other such resources, but since I have no experience with them, I’m not the one to recommend them.}

As I said above, spellcheckers are standard now, in fucking 2021. This has been standard on devices and browsers for so long that I highly doubt most people on tumblr even remember a time when you had to use additional software to have them.

You make a mistake or misspell, and if it isn’t corrected for you, it’s underlined very obviously for you to tap/click/float over to correct. If the word is so terribly misspelled that no suggestion comes up {not all spellcheckers are created equality; some do not recognize slang or relaxed spellings, archaic word use, myriad, particularly specialized jargon-legal, medical, technical-and so on}, we also live in a time period where we can highlight the word, right-click that bitch, and select from the menu the option to search for the word. If the word was so weirdly misspelled that your checker couldn’t figure it out, it is incredibly rare that Google doesn’t throw out the correct spelling when you search it. If the spelling was correct, but the word-use is slang, jargon, or archaic, Google is also going to tell you that-you’ve confirmed it is correct, and can now decide if you want to use it or pick a possible synonym for it instead.

There is no fucking excuse for egregiously misspelled words anymore. None. I mean...listen, I spell quite terribly myself, but no one reading my RP replies is ever going to know that fact. Having difficulty with spelling is not, and has not been for a very long time now, an impediment to writing.

Furthermore, we all miss a typo here and there, especially if we write lengthy novella. Those aren’t always going to be caught by spellcheck, and we might edit the reply five times without seeing it. That happens, it’s alright when it’s minimal! Anything other than that, though, it’s just a combination of rushing and laziness. You really couldn’t be assed to take your time with that reply, read it over at least once before posting, and/or to click the underlined word.

There. Is. No. Excuse.

Again, not all spellcheckers are the same. If you feel like yours is lacking, try an extension for your browser. Since I said it above, I obviously have Grammarly on my mine. My replies effectively go through three different checkers, actually. I write all drafts outside of my browser where it is initially checked by Pages, then, when I paste it into tumblr, it’s being checked natively and by Grammarly. It wasn’t my intention, I just wanted to be positive I was never losing a draft or cooking my ancient laptop with Google Docs. However, it’s been nice as hell to get the perspective of multiple checkers, and as such, I definitely recommend it. It isn’t like I’m putting any extra effort into this, and I’m not paying for Grammarly, either.

When you refuse to behoove yourselves of the spellchecker natively available to you, at least, you’re seriously telling your writing partners that they were not important enough for you to click a fucking word. It’s inexcusable.

Punctuation being nonexistent isn’t a writing style or aesthetic, neither is a refusal to capitalize anything. If never using a comma is part of your Aesthetic™, please, rethink your fucking life and the hobby you’ve chosen.

Punctuation is a part of grammar, and I understand that there can be complexities present that might be confusing. That is one of the reasons why you should bother to know the basics as regards when and how to use punctuation. It’s also another way in which telling people that they should adhere to advice meant for traditional and academic writing can be a shit idea. Especially in an RPC known to misunderstand shit and go overboard.

When you tell the RPC that writers use too many commas, the RPC stops using them all around. Especially, when you also attach this to the idea of evil “wordiness.” That’s something that the RPC is desperate to avoid anyway, as the majority of people here are allergic to reading and writing; anything you advise that lessens the word count for them is going to be grabbed and erroneously applied. Someone implies that wordiness and commas equals run-on sentences, and the RPC gets not only believes it, it gets this message, “if I take out the commas, it isn’t a run-on sentence.”

You have all fundamentally misunderstood what a god damned run-on sentence is. It’s not a long sentence, it isn’t a proliferation of commas. A run-on sentence is when two, or more, sentences that should be individual are conjoined without proper punctuation {a fucking comma, for example} or a coordinating conjunction.

Run-ons can be surprisingly short, in fact. As in the example I lifted from here, “I love to write papers I would write one every day if I had the time.“

That should be written with a comma, separated into two sentences, or broken with a comma and the conjunction “and.” It’s also what I see incessantly on my dash from this bizarre idea that we shouldn’t be using commas. That a run-on sentence is a very long one separated only by commas. That is literally not what a run-on sentence is.

You absolutely can use too many commas {if you want to read some examples of how to use commas, go here}, but I rarely see anyone doing so to such an extreme. The extreme being that a sentence becomes a nonsensical string of conjoined thoughts, ideas, and descriptions that could have been written better broken up into fully formed sentences. I sometimes see muns who go a little nuts with commas by putting them in wildly incorrect places in this way.

What I see constantly is either muns berating themselves for perfectly normal, readable sentence structure or muns reactively using no punctuation at all.

It is all legitimate run-on sentences or those made so short and blunt that they become nonsensical, change the tone of the writing, or have no flow together.

Which brings me to...

Sentence flow is a thing, and you should be doing it.

Unfortunately, this good writing advice tends to throw people. We’re not talking about the flow that needs to be present in academic sentence structure, or exactly the flow that is present in poetry. Though it may require practice to understand and apply well, it’s an incredibly simple concept.

You want to balance out shorter, blunter sentences with those that are longer and more flowing. It gives the text a pleasant, natural rhythm. However, it isn’t just about length, a thing that the RPC is weirdly fixated on. Rather, it’s about word use within those sentences as well.

It’s always important to write with a tone that works with your scene and, overall, with your muse. For example, in a tense, aggressive scene, or with a muse who is generally this way, it gets the message across to use short sentences and clipped words. We can feel the tension, annoyance, and threat.

Furthermore, the way your muse thinks about and uses words is relevant. A well-educated muse from the 1800′s isn’t going to have the same approach to words that a modern-day high school student does. You should be making that clear in the way they speak, but also, in the way you express their thoughts and actions. If you are only writing your muse’s personality and emotional tone when your muse is speaking, you’re not giving me the tone all the way through. It can feel like a marked delineation in flow.

However, you should be considering the overall flow of your writing as well. Did you just lay down back-to-back eloquently verbose sentences? If so, you may want to either follow them up or space them with a shorter sentence comprised of simpler words.

This is legitimately good writing advice for any manner of writing.

So is...

Show, don’t tell.

Which is another piece of advice that throws people when they try to make it more complex than necessary. That, and it grates up against the RPC’s need for short, quick writing. The idea that anything a mun gives you that your muse cannot react to verbally or with action is filler to be avoided. That idea comes from some principle advice that translates badly to RP; essentially, don’t wax poetic for three pages when it has nothing to do with the plot, characters, scene-setting elements, action, and so on. Don’t be Tolkien describing every tree and rock in excruciating detail on the way to destroy the One Ring, basically.

That isn’t fully appropriate advice in RP, where we’re having to write tiny chapters to each other to add onto. While it still has some merit, the RPC definitely has taken it to mean that you shouldn’t show anything. My muse’s private thoughts, emotions expressed and unexpressed, stirred-up memories, things they planned to say/do, but that were naturally interrupted by the flow of the thread all become Unnecessary. With...no mind to what they are showing and creating.

This particularly erodes writing muses as legitimate feeling people. As in the last example of what my muse intended to say or do that was interrupted. That’s a normal, human experience. It would be difficult and not enjoyable to read every instance of a muse’s broken thoughts and impulses or intentions, but giving one every so many replies in a natural feeling way keeps my muse presenting as a real person having a real person’s experience. Simple things like this go a long way toward your muse being “believable,” and by ignoring them or refusing to do them, you’re not making your muse very realistic. So much of the human experience is private, unknowable to outside parties.

Look...if you only knew me based upon a sterilized version of what I was saying to you or doing purely within the context of single interaction at a time, you wouldn’t know me at all. You’d have no idea what sort of nuance there is in my words, how I am expressing or withholding an opinion or emotion. I may not have any opinions, emotions, or other experiences that you are not contributing to. That’s very unrealistic, I’m not actually a person anymore. I haven’t any personality, I didn’t exist before you interacted with me.

That is the way it is with muses too. By stripping them of their internal experiences, we’re stripping them of more realistic feeling characterization. {It becomes, or adds to, a disastrous domino-effect of projected, cardboard stand-in style muses that are in no way a joy to interact with.} This is bad writing, makes for bad reading and interacting.

No one seems to understand show, don’t tell. Let me put it in a simple example: don’t tell me your muse is a good person, show me. Don’t tell me your muse is upset right now, show me.

Your muse has character traits you feel makes them A Good Person. They are compassionate, selfless, and genuinely interested in others. Don’t just leave that in the muse’s bio, or relegate it to statement-style lines like, “she cared deeply about others.” Show me these traits in action and thought. You don’t require anything dramatic to it, either. A muse like this should be a good listener, proceed with their love language in a way reflects personal involvement and a desire to comfort, be willing to sacrifice time and personal interests {don’t keep it to dramatic and literal self-sacrifice to show “selfless”}, legitimately doesn’t think of themselves first and foremost and may need reminding to care for themselves, and will be troubled by unfairness and cruelty in the world.

Your muse has been in a disagreement with a loved one, they’re not just “upset,” they are sad, angry, disappointed, and maybe even confused or surprised. While those are more descriptive and defining of the type of complex “upset” going on here, don’t leave it at these words. Don’t tell me that she said, angrily. Show me that she is having thoughts based on these emotions, actual emotional turmoil at her expectations of a loved one being devastated. Paint me a picture of the sadness in her features, the anger in her walk, how her words come out unpolished and jumbled in her surprise and turmoil.

This is what it means to show me, not tell me.

It also extends to scenes and recollections.

If your muse is happy sitting in her garden, don’t just tell me this. Show me why she is happy there, and define the sort of happiness in her thoughts, body language, voice, and expressions. Describe the aspects of the garden in tones of the happiness they bring, draw comparisons between this and her outward expression of joy with similar word use. It ties together both seamlessly in a way that we can relate to and feel, even if we hate the outdoors.

If this muse had a traumatic incident in her past, this is going to inconveniently come up, even if only in her mind. Don’t play coy about it and drop shit on your partners like, “she was thinking of things and stuff that was bad again.” No. Even if you are alluding or otherwise keeping the actual event secretive, you need to be describing how the muse is feeling, how she is experiencing the world around her through an overlay of upsetting reminders. Show me how she is having a visceral reaction to triggering stimuli while having to keep working or talking.

Additionally, even when your muse isn’t experiencing the scene you have set directly, you should show me instead of telling me about it.

Since my actual least favorite PSA on how it’s better to just tell people because no one wants to read “all that” deals with rain, we’re going to as well. Because it doesn’t have to be excessively descriptive to fucking show me it’s raining or has rained instead of just stating the fact.

Not, “it was raining.” Not, “it was wet outside.”

“In between her words, the distant, wall-dampened splash of cars driving through puddles.”

“He passed by windows beaded with moisture on his way to the kitchen.”

Wow, that was so complex, really a lot to read to get the idea that it is, or has been, raining outside without me directly telling you this!

There isn’t anything wrong with being more descriptive than this {nor is there anything wrong with using the word “rain,” so long as you’re backing it up with a description}, some of us do like to read and write about things like oil-slicked puddles in the street if our muse is seeing them or it is otherwise relevant. It’s just that you don’t have to do this, or have to do it at all times, to show instead of tell. This is yet another serious misunderstanding.

It isn’t that the description is often really that excessive, it’s more often that it is irrelevant to the extreme of sticking out weirdly. In the puddle thing, if my muse isn’t seeing it and/or I am not using that description to further experience, their mindset, personality, or tying it to an analogy later in the reply, it feels weird.

Some superfluous shit isn’t bad either, and superfluous can be purely subjective. It is, again, when it is to such an extreme as to leave your writing partner feeling oddly about a point in the text that seemed to ring with importance, but then held none. That isn’t an act of showing or telling, and neither is it your partner trying to show off as a gifted writer. For whatever reason, they just saw or felt that moment with such passionate clarity they had to include it immediately instead of waiting until a better moment for it. That’s literally it, there’s no need to project your insecurity in weird ass ways.

There are definitely other pieces of traditional-based writing advice that are great and either do transfer to RP perfectly or can with small amendments, but these are the most basic, commonly seen, and important combinations. They are also easy to better understand and apply!

When reading writing advice posts, please, ask yourself how they fit into RP. If they do at all. Many times, when it comes to the absolute basics of writing coherently and enjoyably, or developing characters, they’re great. It’s when they get into topics of some nuance that they don’t cross over so well and are outright damaging.

These pieces of advice are often being misunderstood or misapplied already, then are being passed around to a community notorious for its lacking application of critical thinking. Severe misunderstanding will happen, and terrible writing “rules” within the RPC develop from them.

Do be interested in writing, don’t separate traditional writing and RP writing into categories like “real writing and RP,” be invested in learning and improving. Just ask yourself how it applies to cooperative storytelling that is often thematic in nature, and proceed with caution and the mindset that writing is an art.

If you have the principles down and both yourself and others are enjoying your writing, you’re not doing it in an inherently wrong way because it wouldn’t be published. You’re not writing RP to have it published, and that’s not a bad thing. It’s just a difference to keep in mind when reading PSA’s about the Rules of Writing Whatever. 

[ribbons-undone]

This is what happens when even spellcheck doesn’t know how to spell shit right...

Something like 3 hours ago I hopped on the internet to check how to spell “nephalim”

...

...

Let’s just say I ended up on tumblr and I STILL don’t know how the f*** to spell it.

Eventually I’ll get back to writing this coda...

Maybe then I can actually get back to my main work since my brain refuses to think of nothing else until I’ve headcannon *fixed* 15x20.

Oh the endless pains of writing...

*shrugs and sips cold-as-fuck coffee*

I’ll post when it’s done but I guarantee it’s gonna be total S H I T. That’s okay. It’s mostly absolutely 100% for me.

EDIT: I totally spelled it right the first time *facepalms*

[citrineleaf]

I need to spellcheck and then post a CS fic but I am both lazy and absolutely refuse to use a beta

[dualitysdownfall]

Portal 2 and Moral Greyness (Analysis)

I had a pretty long conversation in a Discord server yesterday and had already made a few realizations shortly before, so I thought I’d extend my thoughts into a long post.

So for a long time I thought I couldn’t analyze Portal’s story because it was too complex. I’m not good at identifying themes and symbolism, or psychoanalyzing people’s actions and words. So I figured I wouldn’t have anything good to come up with. I’m happy to say I was wrong. Here’s my take on why I think one of the biggest themes/motifs in the Portal franchise is moral greyness. (I’m not going to write grayness @ spellcheck, fucking fight me.)

No one in Portal is definitively bad or good. I see all too often that people simply peg GLaDOS as the villain and Wheatley as the good guy. But that isn’t wholly accurate. It’s right around the middle-ish of the game (accounting for increasing test complexity affecting length) that the big intimidating angry antagonist becomes the small, dependent guide and support for Chell, and vice versa.

How? How does Wheatley become evil, and why does GLaDOS decide to help Chell?

Wheatley’s motives

A lot of people defend Wheatley’s turning evil by saying that it was the chassis corrupting him all along. When I was first reading into these explanations, I thought that made sense enough. Maybe, like the drive to test, something was hard-wired into the system that made whichever AI was inserted into it become violent and vengeful. But while I don’t think this behavior is what Wheatley would have been like if he had never been in the chassis, I don’t think the corruption he experienced was that of a technical nature. It wasn’t the chassis itself causing him to behave the way he did, so much as the power it grants. Interpretations that claim “the chassis was doing it” seem to imply that the chassis is an entity all its own with its own motives, and I think if that had been the case then it would have been presented differently.

An AI in that chassis has control over pretty much the entire facility. You’ve got eyes and ears everywhere, and you can move things around pretty much as you please. Anyone would be a fool to mess with you; you could pull in some neurotoxin or turrets or bombs at any time and absolutely destroy whatever and whoever you wanted. And this power is what led Wheatley from his goal.

Let’s think about this. Wheatley is very clearly shown to have been insulted and belittled by nearly everyone around him. He’s spent his whole robot life being told he was not only an idiot who could never come up with a good plan, but that he was specifically designed to be. That has to be crushing for one’s self-worth, and Wheatley refuses to accept that treatment (as well he should). So, he is driven by a desire to prove that he can make a clever, viable plan, and is worth taking seriously. Unfortunately sometimes people don’t take you seriously until you threaten them. That is why, granted the power of the chassis, he went so crazy.

He spent so long being told he was made to be an idiot. He wanted to prove he was more. He may have started out genuinely wanting to help Chell, but the goal of getting himself and Chell out of the facility was that same plan with which he intended to prove his worth. I am not seeking to prove that Wheatley is selfish and terrible and undeserving of appreciation. I am simply speculating that most if not all of his actions throughout the game cam from a desire to prove his intelligence and capability.

This is also why, right when Chell was on the brink of freedom, he so suddenly turned around and became violent and ...is intimidating too strong a word? Well, he tried to be intimidating, in any case. He had been seeking all this time to prove that he should be taken seriously, to be listened to. In reaching a state of power that would allow him to achieve that goal, he was distracted by that, and he messed things up with Chell. He used his newfound control to feel strong and smart and powerful, at the cost of Chell’s trust and allyship. He didn’t realize in the moment the mistakes he made, because he was so starved for approval.

That’s not to say I don’t think he ever realized his mistakes. Though the writers of the game presented him as “just a fucking idiot”, I don’t think that defines him. He is definitely impulsive and easily distracted, but I certainly don’t think he’s so stupid as to not realize that the things he did and said were wrong. He is impulsive, absolutely. but he can surely recognize his own mistakes, at least after the fact. He also tends to say things faster than he can reason them, and has to take it back because he got carried away and said something he didn’t mean. For example, when he takes all the credit for getting him to where he is, he is so intent on proving that he made a smart plan that worked that he forgets how much Chell contributed. He doesn’t necessarily intend to erase Chell’s work, he is just preoccupied with proving himself.

Hey, hold on to that “impulsive and easily distracted” description. Do you know who else is commonly described as impulsive and easily distracted? People with ADHD. Do you know what else people with ADHD share in common with Wheatley? They are usually of average or high intellect, but are not perceived as such because they function differently and have other things working against them regarding the way their brain is wired and how the rest of the world works around them. Just something to think about.

GLaDOS’s redemption

GLaDOS’s redemption is vital to the theme of moral greyness too. She has done a lot more terrible things and for longer, but in contrast to how most people tend to define her, she is not definitively bad. She had reasons.

Firstly, Caroline’s consciousness was uploaded to the supercomputer against her will, as suggested by cut voice lines. Caroline’s lack of consent to being put into a computer is a big thing for me—though it isn’t explicitly stated in the final game, it adds a layer of depth to the issue and just makes more sense as it explains why GLaDOS is so violent against humans.

Secondly, though proven time and again that GLaDOS is a person, the scientists treated her more like an object they could control. The combination of that rage, plus the cores, built a desire to prove that the scientists weren’t the bosses of her. The solution to the problem of getting them off her back was easy—she had no qualms with killing them. Let me just put it this way—you’d be furious too if you were treated like less than a person and then shoved into a room against your will with people who never shut up and only told you you were wrong or tried to distract you.

She had been wronged by humans before. Of course she was against Chell too at first. But Chell picking her up from Old Aperture was a gesture of kindness, even if it was out of necessity and not choice. Chell needed her to get back up to Wheatley and take him out of power, and she showed GLaDOS that she could put their past conflicts aside, prompting GLaDOS to do the same. After Chell picks her up from Old Aperture and carries her back up, she very subtly starts to be more supportive and nice to Chell, as if to think “We may have been enemies, but she could have just left me down here to die, and she didn’t; this is the least I owe her. Maybe I can trust her after all.”

After that, GLaDOS comes to face the truth—she never really wanted to kill Chell, and gives Chell the freedom she deserves regardless of what GLaDOS want(s/ed). “The best solution to a problem is usually the easiest one... and killing you is hard.” This isn’t about how easily Chell has evaded GLaDOS’s attempts on her life in the past. The scientists evaded GLaDOS’s attempts, too, for a while at least. But GLaDOS still had no problem killing them all. She could do the same to Chell, right then and there, if she wanted to. It was hard because she didn’t want to.

In short, GLaDOS has a weird relationship with humans, with empathy, with humanity. She is still struggling with them, but someone who still genuinely hated Chell wouldn’t have let her go.

Tying it all together

So what do GLaDOS’s redemption and Wheatley’s corruption (and subsequent redemption) mean for the themes of Portal 2 as a whole?

Like I said, there’s no one in this series who is strictly good or strictly bad. The bad guys have redeeming qualities and the good guys have flaws.

Wheatley wants to help Chell, but he also wants to prove his own worth.

GLaDOS wants revenge on humans who have wronged her, but she also cares about Chell’s wellbeing.

Cave Johnson has approved and controlled many unethical experiments but his company has also made significant scientific and technological advances far beyond what can be assumed anyone else in the world had done.

Caroline was hardworking and caring, and willing to stand up for herself when she really needed to, but she also let Cave greenlight those unethical experiments and didn’t seem to have too much of a problem with it.

Chell herself, though strong and resilient with a keen sense of justice (or so it seems), unprompted, killed GLaDOS once before. (Like, she died but she’s okay, but that still counts.)

Aside from teaching us to think with portals, the series goes to show that the distinction between good and evil is not binary—few things are—and that people are often quite different from who you think they are. Most people think GLaDOS is just an angry, lying, dangerous AI and the definitive villain of the series. And, yes, she is angry and dishonest and dangerous, but there is more to her than that.

When I first dipped my toes into reading Portal analyses, I thought that I could never make one of my own because it was too complex and didn’t lend itself well to how my brain perceives things. I was right that my brain struggled with it, but I was wrong on how. There is a difference between complex and vague, and most things in Portal are not clear-cut. There are many topics in the story that are hard for me to wrap my brain around, but that’s because it isn’t all explicitly laid out to see right away. It took me time and deep knowledge of the game as well as having read many analysis posts from other people before I was able to make my own conclusions.

Does this vagueness, this subtlety detract from the story experience? Maybe. I couldn’t tell you. Regardless of how cohesive the themes were when I first went through the game, the characters were what captured my attention and the setting and progression fascinated me enough. I was obsessed within moments.

I do feel that if a couple more hints made a few things more clear, it might be easier to make sense of the story in an analytical, thematic sense. But overall, the story itself is amazing. Portal 2 is amazing.

If you like this analysis, I’m thinking of writing a few more. Let me know which ones you’d like to see.

Why GLaDOS and Caroline are so different

Canon basis for ChellDOS

What GLaDOS has to prove to herself

Parallels between GLaDOS and Wheatley

Can you tell who my favorite character is?

[fallout-snippets]

Amazing reacts! Could you do romanced fallout 4 companions (specially hancock) accidentally introducing sole to someone as their spouse? So calling sole their wife/husband before they’re married or whatever. Weird and specific i know. Hope it makes sense haha😂😅

(thank you! and makes perfect sense my friend, dont doubt yourself)

Cait has been sitting in a bar waiting for Sole to return, chatting up strangers who think they can take her in armwrestling. Wins every match and ends up pretty damn cheerful and once Sole comes back she loudly proclaims; “Look at that! Here comes my spouse!”

She immediately stops talking and just stares at the other person until they end up uncomfortable and walk away. Pretends it didn’t happen, maybe it was her accent or a drunken slur and Sole just heard wrong. Takes some teasing before she blows up and admits it, after which Sole tells her they kinda like the sound of it.

Curie is taking care of wounded people after an accident and run out of medical supplies. Luckily Sole is a hoarder and has something extra and she tells them; “Wait a moment, I’ll go ask my spouse.” Doesn’t really react to what she said but Sole ends up being within earshot and once Curie notices that she blushes.

She apologizes for her mistake but questions why she feels so embarrassed that they heard it. They both talk for a while about their feelings and come to a mutual understanding about it, and Curie remembers again why she loves Sole so much.

Danse and Sole are out in the field when they come across a group of raiders. They taunt Sole and mock their achievements which Danse, of course, cannot stand for. He yells out; “That’s my spouse you’re talking about!” which only makes the raiders laugh harder and makes Danse take an emotional step back.

After the fight he’s afraid to look them in the eyes but they reassure him that it happens, they once called their teacher mom. He laughs a little with them but stays embarrassed for a long time. Thinks it felt really good to call them that, and that maybe it’s time to do something about it.

Hancock is drunk, tired and coming down from a high after coming back to Goodneighbor. Sole goes to the Third Rail to pick him up so he can finally get some actual rest but instead he pulls them down to sit on his lap while he says; “My sunshine, my love, my spouse. What would I do without you?”. Some whistles and ooo’s are heard but Sole only pats his chest and tells him party’s over, time to sleep. 

He falls asleep quickly once upstairs and claims he doesn’t remember saying what he did when he wakes up but it’s hard to defend yourself against multiple eyewitnessess. Apologizes even though it’s not like he did something wrong, and Sole reassures him that they know he didn’t mean anything by it.

MacCready ends up in a bragging contest with another sharpshooter that ends in a tie with their combat experiences. Just to win, a heated MacCready points to Sole and says; “Yeah well I married them, that’s my spouse.” with a tone that questions if the stranger can ever top that. An amused Sole walks over to a terrified MacCready who thinks he might look like a bigger loser if they confront him, but instead they sit on his lap and play along.

Afterwards he stammers out an apology and of course, Sole doesn’t really mind, but lord knows they’re going to use this against him for a long time.

Piper writes an article about a recent successful mission that Sole and she undertook together. She’s confident in her writing and leaves the spellcheck to Nat for practice who sees nothing wrong with it. The article goes to the presses and is then distributed. Doesn’t realize she called Sole her spouse in the article until someone points it out to her.

She’s absolutely mortified and makes damn sure she collects every damn copy there is to make sure Sole doesn’t see it but one copy is missing. She comes home to Sole who sits waiting for her with a shit-eating grin, article in hand.

Preston and Sole arrive to a settlement for a regular checkup. There are new people greeting them and Preston introduces himself and Sole but refers to Sole as his spouse, and not as the General. Immediately starts stammering and blushes deeply but makes it through the conversation until he and Sole are alone.

Sole laughs at his expression and while he apologizes profusely for undermining their authority like that they can’t help but to pepper his face with kisses for being so damn adorable. They tell him they don’t mind and he can call them anything, as long as he calls them his.

Gage and Sole are playing an intimidation game where one of them approaches a group of enemies to see if they can scare them off before they need to fight them off. This time it’s Gages turn to approach and he lists Soles achievements while they try to look intimidating behind him. Starts with; “You see that? That’s my spouse. Bet you heard of the scary shit they’ve done.” and starts listing.

Doesn’t notice at first but Soles reaction in the background ends up throwing the whole thing down the drain and they fight for their lives. Sole teases the everloving crap out of Gage who absolutely refuses to admit he ever said such a thing.

[abominablepencil]

I wanna yell all this into the void real quick if it’s cool with y’all

My school “career” really sucked. I probably blocked out a few of the events but I’m gonna write down what I can recall. Not all of these will be bad, by the way, just stories. If you don’t wanna read a bunch of school stories then that’s fine I just wanna share this. If you have similar stories I’d love to read em though!

Let’s start in elementary school.

- There was a boy I liked in kindergarten, but he didn’t like me back. We were both in the am class at the start of the year but for some reason he kept switching between am and pm so I of course asked my mom to swap me as well to match. This went on for maybe a month if I had to guess, switching weekly, before my mom said no more. We wound up being in different classes but ah well.

- The class was making gingerbread men for Christmas but they had to bake while we were out at recess, when we got back they were gone! The teachers put on an act about not knowing where they’d gone before leading us on a scavenger hunt around the school, finally ending at the principals office. He pretended to be surprised we made them and apologized for apparently eating all of them. We each made at least one and we were a class of 20-30 so I have no idea what actually happened to those or why but it was still fun!

- During class one day I fell asleep at my desk and when I woke up everyone was doing tests, mine was sitting next to me. I don’t recall the specifics but I recall casually saying “I’m gay”, feeling embarrassed, and then starting my test without anyone noticing. I meant in the definition “happy” and not “homosexual” though because I was maybe six and knew of nothing more relationship wise than what I saw in Aladdin and the Aristocats.

Switch to the second elementary school

- We had a bunch of classes in the portables and there was a loose board along the side of the wooden deck between them. I found it amazingly amusing to just hide under there and look for treasure! The faculty didn’t, however, and they had to bolt it shut so I’d stop breaking in and crawling around under the classrooms. I found Pokémon cards and foreign coins down there!

- I caused so much trouble at school the principal decided maybe letting me bring a toy would make me behave. She let me bring one small stuffed animal to school each day and play with it in the covered area at recess. This wasn’t really monitored, however, and my teacher was new so I got around it by bringing a marionette. If the class behaved I got to do a puppet show before recess, where I’d make the marionette sing phineas and ferb songs while dancing on a table.

- There was a boy who constantly picked on me but had a soft spot for girls crying. Whenever I was stressed out I’d hide in the tiny space between the top of the CPUs and the table the monitors sat on. He’d try and lure me out by being rude but when I started crying he’d apologize and leave me alone. This worked out well for me, it was really comfy in my hiding spot.

- As prior mentioned my teacher was new and didn’t know how to handle the class yet, and I was a troublemaker. She tried moving me to a private table to do spelling tests but I made forts out of math textbooks and folders. She then tried having me do spelling tests on the computers in Microsoft word. That program has spellcheck, guess who never failed a spelling test!

- During state testing to see where everyone was knowledge wise in fourth grade I tested at an eighth grade level. The teachers took note of that. The next year they decided I wasn’t being challenged enough so they let me decide if I wanted to learn basic algebra with my class or join the sixth graders in an advanced algebra class. I accepted the offer and took the entire class period to play with my marionette instead of learning the weird ways to do math that made no sense to me at all. Eventually that teacher decided I wasn’t paying enough attention and swapped me back to my regular class but that wasn’t till after they’d already learned the basics, meaning I was started in an advanced class and then dumped into the middle of the regular one. Algebra makes absolutely no sense to me to this day and I obstinately refuse to use PEMDAS.

- One day I was particularly upset for no particular reason that I can recall so I hid under the table as per usual until lunch time came. The teacher demanded I come out and go to lunch with the class but I refused and demanded to stay under the table alone because I just couldn’t bear to be seen. That of course didn’t fly because she couldn’t legally leave a child alone in the classroom, nor send the others to lunch unsupervised. This lead to one of many occurrences where a specific sixth grade teacher and whichever other male teacher was available dragging me to the nurses office for time out. The first hooking his arms under my armpits and putting them over the lower half of my face, the second holding my feet. It was always that first teacher because he was used to me gnawing on his arms the entire ten minute walk. This particular time I was instead taken to the teachers lounge because I was kicking and screaming and throwing a tantrum. They called another truant officer to help while they contacted a family member to come get me. I was held captive in that room for 30-60 minutes, either restrained to a teacher in a chair or pinned to the floor by the officer so I wouldn’t run. The entire time I screamed as loud as I could and, while pinned down, yelled that my arms and legs were numb. They didn’t release me till they got my grampa there and then they drove me to his retirement home. I never went back to that school. I went to therapy though, they had dogs and talked about club penguin with me.

And now my third elementary school

- Right before WASL testing started in fifth grade I switched schools. When I was finally processed into a class they were in the middle of the testing so I had to just sit around and make it up during remedial testing. During one day of that, while all ten or so of us were sitting in the computer lab doing the test, I noticed a balloon sitting behind a CPU near me. Instead of ignoring it I chose to try and grab it. The teacher got mad at that and told me to do the testing so I tried but quickly got distracted again. I think at this point she went to get the principal or something so I took my chance to bolt from the room! I ran to the bathroom and hid. The teacher found me quickly and demanded I get out of the bathroom, but I refused. She threatened to get the janitor to come take the stall door off it’s hinges so she could get me cause I wouldn’t unlock it but still I sat defiant. So she left. I waited a minute or so after her footsteps stopped and creeped out, guess who was behind the bathroom door! She tried to grab me but I ducked and ran down the stairs, out the cafeteria doors, to the playground, around to the front parking lot, and down the street to my grandmas house. They grabbed a truancy officer and came into my grandmas backyard to try and coax me out and back to school. I refused to until all the teachers were back in their cars and it was just the officer. Big trouble came my way that day, and it all started with a half deflated balloon!

- At this school if you misbehaved you went in one of the time out closets. They weren’t that bad. Just two cubbies without doors in the office, each had a desk, chair, and a motivational poster. I spent a lot of time in them. It was nice and quiet in there.

- My second fifth grade teacher didn’t like when kids farted during class. She always said it was a distraction and that if you had to do so then ask to use the restroom and do so in there. However if you asked to use the restroom she’d ask why you didn’t go at recess and told you to hold it till the next one.

- Did you know that different schools teach drastically different curriculums? Cause I didn’t till I switched mid-year. I went from being taught algebra to being taught about “Big One” and basic multiplication. In fifth grade. It really wasn’t that useful and only lead to confusion.

This is getting really long so I’ll do middle school in a new post!

[3paragraphessayoutline184]

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[mer-m-a-i-d-s]

on anxiety

I felt a lot less like writing today/tonight. I decided that I should even if it isn’t a worthwhile post because I have a bad habit of starting and never finishing projects. I don’t really even know what embarrassing facet of my life that I want to talk about today. OCD tendencies? body image? eating? self worth? my failures? love? interpersonal relationships? my health? cats??? my unmet potential? the passage of fucking time as the planet descends into chaos and we all get old and watch our loved ones die before we ourselves die a horrible death alone? the fact that for some reason I seem to be incapable of spelling embarrassing without the aid of spellcheck? cats??? Really the list could go on and probably will unless somehow this blog bites me in the ass and I am made a social pariah in my personal and professional life. 

I guess I will start with some positives: 

I drank a ton of water today. 

I’ve had a fun time at work this week and really enjoy my job and the people I work with.

I was super productive today and got a lot of stuff done that I had been seriously procrastinating about. 

the two new korean skincare items I purchased seemed to be doing a good job so far. 

I settled on a halloween costume and I don’t look half bad.

Ok, I’ve decided. Anxiety. I have it. I’m sure everyone does to an extent and probably many people have it worse than I do. It’s funny how the symptoms kind of creep in and we all live with this unnerving feeling like it’s a perfectly normal thing and then suddenly you realize that you’ve chewed at your cuticles so much that your fingers are in constant pain (I realized this about 45 minutes ago) or that your OCD is showing and you’ve taken 5 showers in one day (sunday) and washed your hands so much the skin is bleeding a little bit (last week) or that you’ve eaten roughly a dozen large cookies like it was nothing because they were there and you needed them to not be there anymore (this morning). But those things feel routine. I routinely overwash my hands and body, I routinely eat until I feel sick. Anxiety is part of me (and especially the last year) and I don’t know if I know a time when it wasn’t or if I would be okay if it wasn’t there. 

Today at work I turned in some photos I had taken of a training. The documentary style photos I’ve been taking for my work are not really my forte but I think they’re fine...even good? Either way, I submitted them to a woman that works for a different department as asked. I made sure to end my email with the pitiful “I hope they’re okay! :(” She happened to come by my office and let me know that she had gotten the email but hadn’t seen them. I echoed “I hope they’re okay :(” again and I got a weird look (BECAUSE THAT’S A WEIRD THING OF ME TO SAY OVER AND OVER.) and a “I’m sure they’re fine.” UNSATISFACTORY. I’ve been thinking about it since then and even now I am pondering the possibility that she hates me. Does she hate me? Rationally no... She’s super nice to me all the time and by all accounts a caring person with no reason to hate me. She has bought me lunch..TWICE. BUT HERE WE ARE.

And I fully acknowledge that I make a great show of it though. Even now with this blog I am turning my darkest, saddest and most embarrassing thoughts and feelings into something that I hope at least makes people do that weird laugh where they blow air out of their noses. It helps me cope to act like an unsure and overly concerned hot ass mess. I like when people laugh at me making fun of myself because it makes me feel like I’m in control. But am I? I regularly roast the shit out of myself for everything. Am I protecting myself? The old “HAHA I ALREADY KNOW I’M SHITTY SO IF YOU SAY IT ITS ALREADY OLD HAT AND NO ONE CARES.” trope. But as I’ve grown into adulthood I see that sometimes this behavior does nothing but teach the people around me that it’s okay to treat me this way. And I do not want to be treated this way. I want to be admired and loved and petted and wrapped in a warm blanket. Not everyone takes this as a cue to mistreat me and not all the time but enough that I sometimes find myself the butt of jokes that I orchestrated and I really have no one to blame but myself. 

Control has been something I’ve always desired. Not in the shitty way, I don’t want to control others, I just want control of myself but I do it so, so, so badly and in such unhealthy ways that it is almost comical. I see it in my OCD and disordered eating, I see it in my refusal to do things that I am not absolutely perfect at the first time, I see it in my desire to reach this unattainable perfection. And what is the opposite? What happens if I didn’t do this? I fail? Someone laughs and judges me? I am pitiful? Am I not already ensuring all of those things happen? I used to tell myself if I obsess over the worst possible outcome, I can only be pleasantly surprised when it turns out better than I thought, or prepared when it turns out exactly as I predicted but now I am not so sure this is the best course of action. 

I think I like the idea of giving myself some small goals to work towards so I think I’m gonna do that again:

 - Give myself a compliment in front of myself

- Give myself a compliment in front of someone else

- Give someone else a compliment (I already do this a lot but you can never do it enough.)

- keep drinking water  

[got7-texts]

Call - BamBam (Day 48/100)

You can find my post explaining the 100 Day Drabble Challenge here

To read the other drabbles in my drabble challenge, click here

Prompt: Call Member: BamBam x Reader AU: Policeman!AU

Word Count: 1648

Requested literally months ago by fortheloveoftaemin. I think I re-wrote this about 4 times because it was just such a good prompt and I wanted to get it right. Hope you enjoy it~

It all began last week when there was a break in at your work. It was a small shop, and only the money from the cash register was taken, but you were still annoyed that it had happened. You were standing a safe distance away from the building, talking with a coworker when a police car drove up.

You looked over, expecting an old, worn out man but instead, you caught your breath when a handsome, young police man came out. He was absolutely stunning and you instinctively grabbed your coworkers hand while staring at the young man before you.

He had dyed, silver hair and big brown eyes that looked like they were sparkling. Although he was wearing the same navy uniform as the rest of the policemen, his was tight and form fitting, accentuating his long legs and slender figure. You briefly glanced at the gun and handcuffs on the side of his hips and had to stop your mind from wandering.

“Oh my god, who is that?” you whispered to your coworker. When you spoke, you realized you hadn’t been breathing for a bit and your heart beat raced in your chest.

“I think he’s the new police officer in town that everyone’s been raving about,” your coworker said. “He’s super cute,” she added, giggling lightly. You nodded in agreement, your eyes never leaving the young policeman who was now talking with your boss. You continued to stare until they suddenly both turned in your direction. You immediately looked back at your coworker who was smiling knowingly.

“They’re coming over. Don’t do anything stupid,” she said, winking to which you bit your lip hard to keep from squealing.

“Excuse me, are you Y/N Y/L/N?” a voice asked. You turned around and found yourself face to face with the officer you had just been staring at. He was even more handsome up close and you could see how beautifully tan his skin was. The slight curve of his lips made your heart pound hard and you found yourself tongue tied. There was a moment of silence that you spent staring at his face until you realized that he had just asked you a question.

“Oh! Yes, yea, that’s me…I’m Y/N…that’s my name…” you trailed off, feeling the heat rise to your face. You wanted to smack yourself but just gave a nervous smile instead.

“I’m BamBam, nice to meet you,” the young man said, offering you his hand with a big smile. You found yourself grinning and took his hand, shaking it and making sure not to hold on too long, but relishing in the feeling of touching him.

“The manager was just telling me that you were the first one to come in today and see the break in,” BamBam said, glancing at the shop. “Did you see anyone around the shop that looked suspicious? Or did you see anything else that might have been a little…off?” he asked. You took a breath and reminded yourself that this was serious.

“No, I just came to work as usual and the door was open. The lock was broken, but everything else in the shop seemed intact. The cash register was open and completely empty, but I’m pretty sure that was the only thing they took,” you said, struggling not to stare at BamBam for too long. He was jotting the things you said down on a piece of paper and then looked up at you, nodding.

“Alight, thank you for your time,” he said, giving you a small smile and putting the pad of paper away. You suddenly realized that he was about to leave so you said the first thing that came to your mind.

“It was kind of scary,” you blurted out, lying through your teeth. Again, you wanted to smack yourself for being so stupid, but BamBam just gave you another smile and nodded.

“I’m sure it was. But don’t worry, if anything happens like this again, feel free to call the station and we’ll send someone over,” he said, giving you a reassuring look. You felt your heart skip a beat and you gave him a smile, thanking him and watching as he left.

Since that meeting, you had called the police once, just to see BamBam. You had learned from your friend, whose father was in the police force, that BamBam’s shifts were usually in the morning. This worked in your favor because you were always picking up morning shifts at your work.

The first time you had called him had been three days after the break in. You had heard strange noises in the alleyway and were scared at first, but then you found out that it was just a family of stray alley cats.

However, this didn’t stop you from calling the police and asking for someone to be sent over because you ‘thought the burglar was back’. Fortunately, your friend had given you accurate information and you were able to see BamBam once again.

When he told you it was just a few cats, you feigned surprise, but then told him that you were grateful he came anyways. He had smiled and told you to call any time you needed anything. Better to be safe than sorry, he had said.

At first you felt a little guilty about calling him for no reason, but your town was so small and boring that you didn’t think he was missing very much. And you knew that, since he was new, he was probably itching for an excuse to not do paperwork at the office anyways.

Now, you glanced at the clock and bit your lip, tapping the phone in your hand impatiently. You mentally berated yourself for what you had done, but you couldn’t help yourself.

You had to see him again.

You had been working in the shop when suddenly one of the lights caught on fire. You had fairly easily blown the fire out with the fire extinguisher, but you still convinced yourself to call the police.

So there you were, sitting outside your shop with your cell phone in your hand, staring down at the fire extinguisher in front of you, wondering why you couldn’t just bring yourself to ask the man out.

“Hey Y/N,” a voice said, pulling you from your thoughts. BamBam was walking over to you, wearing the same uniform he always did with a big smile on his face. When was he ever not smiling. “Got your call and came right away! Did you manage to put out the fire?” he asked.

The butterflied began to dance in your stomach at the sound of his voice and any worries you had before washed away with his presence.

“Oh, yea I put it out,” you said, picking up the fire extinguisher. “But the light was sparking and I don’t really know if I should go back inside or stay out here or…” you trailed off, trying to make the situation seem a bit more dire than it really was. You weren’t lying, it had been sparking. Until you sprayed half a bottle of fire extinguisher on it.

“Let me check it out,” BamBam said, smiling at you and walking into the shop. After a few moments, he came out again with his pad and pencil.

“Is it okay?” you asked, curiously.

“Yea, it’s stopped sparking so it should be fine,” BamBam chirped, jotting something down. “I’ll let my boss know and hopefully we can send someone over to inspect it and make sure the rest of the lights are okay,” he added, closing his pad.

“Thank you for coming,” you said. “I know I’m probably annoying you with all the calls and everything, but I appreciate you being here,” you added, hurriedly, avoiding his gaze. BamBam let out a small laugh that sounded sweeter than anything you had ever heard.

“Of course! That’s my job after all,” he said, nodding at you.

You nodded back and prepared yourself to say goodbye, but BamBam just continued to stand in front of you, looking at the shop. You wondered why he wasn’t leaving but you refused to say anything. You never got enough time with him as it was, and if he decided to stand there all day, you would be more than happy to stand there with him.

“But, it was a pretty early call,” BamBam said, looking at you with a look that you didn’t quite know. “So I haven’t had my morning cup of coffee yet. Would you care to join me to get some?” he asked.

You felt your heart stop in your chest and your mouth dropped a bit. You were speechless for a few moments as you tried to assess your thoughts. Did he just ask you out? Did he actually want to spend time with you? Did he really like you too? Was coffee considered a date? WHAT WAS HAPPENING?

“YES!” you exclaimed, halfway between a shout and a scream. BamBam looked surprised and you quickly closed your mouth and awkwardly coughed. “I mean…yea sure, I’d love to go with you,” you said, a bit more softly and sweetly, feeling a blush spread across your face. BamBam grinned at you and clapped his hands together.

“Perfect! Let’s take my car. We can go faster that way,” he said, giggling and motioning for you to follow him. You felt like you were in a dream and stood still on the sidewalk, staring at his back. After a week and a half of doing absolutely nothing but thinking of ways to see him again, you were finally going to get to know him better.

“I love you,” you whispered quietly under your breath. BamBam turned around and lifted his eyebrows.

“Sorry, did you say something?” he asked, causing you to quickly walk over to him and giggle nervously.

“Nothing at all~”

[fenrislorsrai]

Side-eyeing the Black Furies

I recently reread the Black Furies revised tribe book because as I’ve gotten older, I’ve liked the Furies less and less.  I thought maybe tribe book would help. It didn’t.

It tried to get away from the main stereotype of “but we’re not like other Girls!” but unfortunately it introduced a different issue and reinforced the ongoing issue of “we’re a matriarchy- it values exactly what patriarchy does, but with girls on top!” But not those other girls. Only the cool girls who are not like other girls.

hrrrgh.

Beyond that, the one consistent thing you’d had in all editions is that the Furies are champions of the Wyld. Nobody understands the Wyld like the Furies, not even the Red Talons.  

But the Revised tribe book you’ve got some very, very Weavery shit going down. One of the issues has been there in every edition, two are brand new problems with Revised. W20 sort of backs off this due to space issues, but you can basically still go with “expanded information in Revised tribe books is still relevant to W20″. (the By Night LARP rules are really, really dif, so I’m not talking bout them here)

I’m gonna slap rest behind a cut, but here’s the three issues here so you know what the hell I’m gonna yell bout behind the cut.

Vengeance/justice

age roles

gender

and at the end of this big rant I’ll address those three issues and the general “matriarchy is patriarchy with the serial numbers filed off” and what WOULD work as a coherent whole for Furies.

Issue one, vengeance/justice.  Revised try to refocus on the Black Furies as the actual FURIES. This is their thing. They are the ones that seek vengeance for transgressions against universal moral laws. Murderers, rapists, oath breakers, etc. 

Which is fine... but rest of book harps on their agents of the Wyld. Vengeance or Justice is anything but random, chaotic, or creating something new.  And you’re enforcing moral laws applicable to humans so they’re not truly universal. They’re quite artificial.  So they’re agents enforcing artificial law. Often by ending the life of something and returning it to the cycle.

That’s either Weaver or Balance Wyrm territory, possibly both.  It’s most definitely NOT of the Wyld.  While meanwhile going “nobody loves and supports the Wyld like us! You are all tools of the Weaver” 

K. pretty standard “do as I say, not as I do” for Garou, but still poorly integrated here.

Issue two, age roles.

I don’t hate this idea, but I hate the implementation here for much the same reason. The book itself doesn’t entirely agree on implementation, so I’m going to comment on the most extreme version.

So the cycle of age roles is Maiden/Mother/Crone.  That sort of triple deity set up works well in the Werewolf cosmology and particularly well with the Black Furies as the Greeks had a whole lot of these and majority were female triads.

The execution of this idea though... hrrrrrrgh.

Its tied explicitly to their reproductive status.  Which ties back into the issue of “its patriarchy with the serial numbers filed off”  Defining them by reproductive status is exactly what they’re bitching about with other tribes.  But we’re not like those other tribes!  We value women... based on their reproductive status!

They get into how much they revere motherhood but then actively either kill male infants (historically) or give them away (modern era).  So you give your male Garou cubs away, to be raised by the patriarchy you hate so they’ll grow up to actively participate in it?  I know Garou are good at creating their own problems, but REALLY.  (I will bitch about this more later)

Anyway, so the most extreme version they present in book is tied entirely to change in reproductive status.  You’re a Maiden until you get pregnant.  Once pregnant you’re a Mother... even if you miscarry or must immediately give away that child at birth.  A mother with nothing to mother. You’re a Crone as soon as you lose the ability to give birth.  Female Metis automatically are Crones. 

So three big issues here. One, ideally the age roles are progressed through voluntarily.  But they CAN be forced through them.  Which rather goes against the whole actual age role thing. They’re lacking all the other markers appropriate to that role. Your Metis starts as a Crone once they go through First Change.  A Homid that was wounded badly during Rite of Passage and is now infertile is also a Crone. These are teenagers possibly even TWEENS. Stupid, rage fueled teenagers. Other than inability to have biological children, they really have nothing in common with that role in other ways.

Two, you’re mechanically presented with a Rite specifically to restore fertility to those that lost it.  So you can mechanically turn back time and go back to a previous age role. What. Again, while that may work when its based entirely upon reproductive status, it doesn’t work with all the rest of the spiritual setup.

Three, it dances around the “well if you choose not to breed, that’s okay too” but its clearly NOT as this is included as part of the reason you can’t have male Black Furies. They can’t bear a child, so can’t really understand.  Which then circles you back to a female Black Fury who doesn’t breed can’t truly be part of the tribe either. They sort of touch on this as why they occasinally give away female metis too.

Related to this is a peculiar omission. There’s a Rite to let an adult female Garou join the Black Furies as a tribe. There is NO Rite to formally adopt children. With that Mother role, you’d think that would in there, especially since you have a pretty high mortality rate among Garou.  There’s going to be quite a lot of orphans and yet, despite that... adoption is never mentioned. Biological offspring, or nothing!

Issue three, gender. Let’s be clear here there’s a difference between biological sex and gender.  Both are treated poorly in tabletop. the new BNS LARP rules sort of address this for balance issues, but not the core issue I have here.

First, you have the age roles and assigning them based entirely on reproductive ability or loss thereof.  This very clearly sets up that biological sex as they key factor here. Trans women are therefor not women and can’t have age roles and can’t be Black Furies. I'm going to give this benefit of the doubt that this is more a function of the age of the book and just overlooking it vs actively excluding trans and intersex individuals as the BNS LARP rules kinda sorta address this, but the tabletop still has the biological sex setup.

Two, almost all the material conflates biological sex with gender as if they’re the same thing.  Gender is constructed, and gender roles are really what the Furies are really pissed off about.

Yet... exclude male Lupus.  Your newly changed male Lupus is more or less a blank slate as to gender roles.  What are those? and is more or less going to conform to whatever is presented as normal to them.  So instead they give away their male lupus to other tribes to join those tribes and be raised with the gender roles that actively hurt them and the Furies as a whole. Why don’t you just hand them to BSDs while you’re at it?  okay, that’s a bit extreme, but you’re effectively empowering the system you’re opposing!  

But we’ll keep male metis because something-something mumble its kind of poorly articulated in canon.  This sort of ties into the whole justice/vengeance up top, but its kind of poorly presented. They do mention they don’t always keep female metis! It really comes down to punishing the mother for sexual transgressions. But we’re not like those other tribes! 

Male Homids, get out of here... but we’ll keep male human Kinfolk. Your Lupus might not get the gender distinction and may be fine with it (wolves tend to disperse from their birth pack, so may seem natural to them).  But your Homid you give up to another tribe. It’s likely that they WILL know they’re adopted.  and with Rage fueled critters, that they were given up because of their sex is likely going to grind at them.  Not every one, but enough that you’ve likely created some really resentful young Garou who may be ACTIVE foes of the Furies. This is definitely in “creating your own problems” territory.

And again, it comes back to reinforcing the whole biologic sex is destiny.  Male Garou that could reproduce are given up because they can’t become pregnant and therefore can’t understand.  They are worthless without a womb.  which is basically part of what they’re bitching about with patriarchy that women are valued only for their ability to bear children... WHICH IS EXACTLY WHAT THE FURIES ALSO VALUE.

You’re back to its Patriarchy but with girls on top. It’s exactly the same values but with women on top and absolutely no room for deviation from Biology is Destiny.

And this doesn’t even get into issues with trans or intersex individuals. 

alright, enough bitching, what do you DO to overhaul this whole mess.

I think you’re still going to have an endless round of “but we’re not like other Garou!” because pretty well EVERY TRIBE says this. That’s how you get a tribe. But you can have one that’s more internal consistent.

One big change you can make that will tie all the rest of this together is head slappingly simple. Black Furies are not just matriarchal they’re matrilineal. Descent is determined through your mother’s line.

They’re not explicitly so in canon. Think about that for a minute. That’s really something that should be specifically called out and emphasized.  Descent and lineage is determined through your maternal line. Your paternity is irrelevant. 

They sort of dance around it in canon but its not addressed with Kinfolk and that really should be explicitly stated.  It’s a really significant thing that makes total sense for them and also marks them as clearly different than the other Garou tribes. And would be a source of conflict with other tribes who default to patrilineal as part of patriarchal system.

I’m also going to point out the spellcheck in this browser refuses to recognize matrilineal as a word. That’s WHY is needs to be called out explicitly, not hinted at. Most readers are going to miss hints because they were raised in a patriarchal society. The default is that you don’t need to distinguish between types of descent so it doesn’t recognize either matrilineal or patrilineal as words. 

alright, now to the specific three issues I had.

one, vengeance/justice. This is mostly a shift in framing.  You’re NOT an agent of the Wyld here, you are part of the greater cycle.  Yes, this may mean you are at times acting as an agent of the Weaver and/or the Wyrm, but that is how it should be.  The Wyld cannot be protected by the other parts of the cycle being ignored or neglected.  

So you’re bringing justice because otherwise because of the Wyrm’s corruption, the cycle fails to complete correctly. We’re enforcing these particular artificial laws because to do so prevents the cycle stalling out.  

But while you’re doing that, the artificialness of some of those laws need to be acknowledged at same time.  The point is in keeping the cycle turning, not necessarily in enforcing laws just for reasons of enforcing them. You fight the Weaver and the Wyrm when they stall out the cycle though things cannot return to the Wyld, not because of inherent wrongness of the other two portions of the Triat.

Part two, age roles. The tribe book offered some slightly less harsh options for transitions, but you still had them tied explicitly to reproductive status.

Toss that. Age roles are now based more on matching the other attributes of the role.  Frequently reproduction IS the trigger for transition, but not always. And we’re going to tie that to the renown attributes and the three categories. So some auspices tend to stay in certain roles for longer or shorter periods. 

Maiden is the time for Glory, Rage, and the Wyld. It is the time for the self.  One’s own actions are the most important contribution. Rage drives your action as the purity and surety of your conviction is clearly demonstrated in a growing mastery of your own powers and the world around you. It is time to try new things and just as quickly discard them. This is where all Furies start out. Ahroun’s and Galliards tend to spend longer as Maidens than other auspices.

Mother is the time for Honor, Willpower, and the Weaver. It is the time to realize that sometimes other needs take priority over your own. Your actions still matter, but often your role is to do for others what they can’t do themselves or can’t do YET. Many times your role is getting them to the point where they CAN do for themselves, while not losing your temper. This is the time to start planning for long term. To find something and stick with it with dedication. Furies transition to this role when they’ve spent a full lunar year as a caretaker for something or someone. This is most often a biological child, but having a child doesn’t automatically mean they’re actually ready for this role.  The trigger can also be caring for an adopted child, tutoring a convert from another tribe, taking on an important caern position, or fulfilling a specific quest.  Whatever it is that they invest their time and dedication to bringing to fruition. Philodox tend to move quickly to this role and stay there longer.

Crone is the is the time for Wisdom, Gnosis, and the Balance Wyrm. It is the time for seeing the coming end and being ready to move on while also making sure the cycle continues. The Crone is less concerned with individual actions and more with the cycle as a whole. She often can hurt other’s feelings with her bluntness (she ain’t got time for this shit) but also can be the most understanding because she realizes the value of a kind word now in averting future trouble. Menopause is a frequent trigger for this, but anything that truly forces the Garou to confront the fact that they likely won’t see next generation grow up could be a trigger.  A crippling battlescar, the death of a packmate,the death of their child, the loss of a caern, etc. Something triggers that their life will never be the same as it was before whatever triggered the introspection.

point three, gender.  Let’s go with the Furies should NOT be giant dickheads that insist sex and gender are exactly the same and very firmly divided. That they are genuinely mad about artificial human GENDER roles and not about some kind of biological essentialism.

Which then leads you back to the big issue with NOT having male Furies if their anger is directed at patriarchy, not some inevitable biological destiny. But lets jump back to that one big change mentioned at the beginning: make the Furies matrilineal.

In this case, the important thing is descent from a Black Fury on your mother’s side.  That includes through Kinfolk. So male Black Furies, unless they mated with Fury Kinfolk, their kids aren’t considered Furies.  They belong to tribe of their mother. This does set them up for conflict with other tribes with some disputed cubs, but that will still fit in with original background of giving away cubs.  The cub belongs to the mother’s tribe, even if she’s Kinfolk because we’re matrilineal and we think it works that way. Female cubs (or Kinfolk) where father is not a Fury are just more likely to claimed by the tribe.  Males might be adopted back, but its less likely (afterall,patriarchy does benefit them!) so are almost all go to the father’s tribe. This gives the impression to other tribes that they give up male cubs.

This also gives you a much firmer reason to keep metis born to Furies.  Their father has no claim on them. Of course they’re Furies.  Same with Lupus. and same with Homid. matrilineal descent is really easy to track in almost all cases so its really hard to have lost cubs. 

OMG but, men, in the Furies!?! remember if their beef is with gender roles, they should not be excluding biological men based on other people’s gender roles.  Lupus are a blank slate, metis are raised as Garou, and your Homids should have been raised by Kinfolk or Furies that could have instilled totally different gender roles.  That “biology is destiny” stance is very, very Weavery so if you’re going with the tribe of the Wyld... that shit needs to go. 

So what do you do for men since they’re outside the maiden/mother/crone cycle?  Since you now decoupled it from biological sex, no reason you can’t have them progress through same age roles with slightly different names. 

and that also fixes some of your issues with transgender, genderfluid, and intersex kids and how they’re treated by tribe. Mostly like any other tribe member

Since you also have the Bacchantes camp, you can also give them special tie to the Dionysian mysteries as the “role” that males play in tribe. Have them specifically be involved heavily in reclaiming Fury cubs where there’s a dispute in that matrileneal vs patrileneal system. The other tribe will respect the males claims more and the male Fury is in a good position to tutor new cub discovering their mother’s tribe (or converts from other tribes) and bust up their thinking that the Furies are just like the other tribes, but with Grrrl Power.

Anyway, that’s MY take on it.  If you like them as written, you can still enjoy them exactly as written!  it’s your game!

[junker-town]

‘The Bachelorette’ Episode 4: This show isn’t fun anymore

In light of the racism in recent episodes and sexual assault allegations on ‘Bachelor in Paradise’, the franchise has turned sinister.

The intro of this weekly recap is usually where I say something along the lines of, “Hello, Sports Bachelor Nation!” and crack a joke about how you’re probably getting ready to pour a bottle of wine down your throat, or about how this reality show is sports, or something else that’s meant to entertain you as you read about a show that is also meant to entertain you. In fact, whose only job is to entertain you.

Tonight is not that night. For several reasons:

1) I can’t get the taste of last week’s episode, in which Lee, a racist piece of garbage, picked a fight with several black cast members.

2) The Bachelor in Paradise had to shut down filming because of alleged sexual assault between two incredibly drunk cast members, a situation which casts a very sinister shadow over the entire franchise.

Neither of those things are entertaining. They’re both dangerous. They’re both gross. They both make me feel sick to my stomach, so you’ll excuse me if I’m having trouble mustering up enthusiasm.

With that said, let's take a look at what happened last night.

DEALING WITH LEE SOME MORE

We left off with Lee baiting Eric with racially-charged statements. Lee refuses to apologize. Instead, he says:

“You’re damn right I enjoyed pissing him off. I have so much fun talking shit on these nights.”

Eric removes himself from the situation. Lee drops the “I’m not here to make friends” line, which used to be funny, and now, like so much else on this show, is not.

Then Lee interrupts Kenny while Kenny and Rachel are talking to each other. He refuses to go away, then gives Rachel a block of wood that he rudimentarily carved the word “enchanting” into using his grandfather’s pocket knife. This is not only creepy, but also means that this guy came onto the show with a switchblade and no one was like, “hey, maybe we should take this guy’s switchblade away.”

Dean, one of the white guys, says, “I think Lee’s a f[bleeeeep]ing moron,” and, “I just think he’s kind of a bitch.” It’s good to see a white dude grow a pair and call Lee out, but of course Brady, another white dude, is like, “Everyone comes form a different background and has weird quirks.”

Oh, is that what we’re calling it these days? Being racist is like, a fun little character flaw?

Meanwhile, Bryan tells Rachel that they’re in a 100% real situation that’s like a fairy tale. Sure, if by fairy tale you mean the original text of Grimm’s Brother’s stories in which they describe the bloody way Cinderella’s sisters cut off their own heels to try to squeeze into the glass slipper. And then everyone dies of the bubonic plague.

Dean says he hopes Kenny punches Lee in the face and I’m like, why don’t you just do it, dude?

ROSE CEREMONY

Rachel speaks to the camera about the pressures she feels about being a black woman on this show. She’s crying.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she says. “I get pressured from so many different ways, being in this position. I didn’t want to get into all of this tonight. I already know what people are going to say about me and judge me for the decisions that I’m making. I’m going to be the one that has to deal with that, and nobody else, and that���s a lot.”

Good work, Bachelorette producers. Way to put a smart woman who appears to be trying to take this show as seriously as anyone can in a really horrible position. Knocking it out of the goddamn park.

Rachel gives Lee a rose. Diggy goes home. I liked Diggy.

GOODYEAR BLIMP DATE, THE ONLY GOOD THING

The fact that Lee is still around makes everything extra bad, but Dean and Rachel go on a one-on-one date in the Goodyear blimp, which is a bit of brightness in an otherwise very dark moment for the franchise.

Dean is absolutely petrified of heights, not in a cute “haha I’m so scared LOL” way, but in a “oh my god I’m going to puke everywhere and maybe actually pass out” way. Rachel is a little worried. But then Dean gets himself together and drives the blimp, then he and Rachel drink champagne in the blimp, and then they make out in the blimp. Lotta blimp action. Also: I’ve always wondered what the inside of a blimp looks like, and now I know: a bus.

The Goodyear Blimp’s Twitter account proved to be the only good Bachelor-related thing we have left. It was trolling people all night as the episode aired:

When throwing shade, it helps to cast a blimp-sized shadow. (and have a giant LED screen, sure) https://t.co/2inuOHnbUK

— Goodyear Blimp (@GoodyearBlimp) June 20, 2017

Awesome people. https://t.co/CDl9MVmz3a

— Goodyear Blimp (@GoodyearBlimp) June 20, 2017

Back at the house, the guys are like, “Dean is five, six years younger than Rachel,” as though that were a problem. My dudes, I’m sorry you’re so insecure in your own fragile masculinity that you can’t imagine an older woman with a younger man.

DEAN TALKS ABOUT HIS MOM’S DEATH AND IT’S MOVING

At dinner, Rachel and Dean talk about their upbringings. Dean says he was raised very religious, and that his mom died of breast cancer when he was 15. He says that when she moved to hospice, he asked her when she’d be coming home, and she said, “never.” And then Dean says that his dad sobbed on his bed the day he told him that she passed away, while Dean just sat there, stoically, supporting his father.

I’m not not tearing up.

My tears quickly dry when Rachel and Dean go to a surprise country music concert. The singer’s name is Russell Dickerson, which is like Mad Libs for a country singer name. But everyone knows it’s not an episode of The Bachelorette unless a generic country singer gets his two minutes of glory. The producers probably go on the Facebook group called, like, Aspiring Country Singers Who Want to Sing Good and Look Good Too, and just choose a guy at random.

I can imagine the conversation. “Who should it be, fellow producers? Harrison Butterson or Flint McDustbuster?”

What is a Russell Dickerson

— Jonquilyn Hill (@jonquilynhill) June 20, 2017

PLOT TWIST: Russell Dickerson is actually a hologram of a stock art photo of a country music singer.

BOAT DATE

The group date takes place on a boat. They’re all dancing, and for some reason Peter decides to rap, and his bars are trash. He rhymes “heart” with “fart” and calls Rachel a “girl from the hood.”

Let’s go to writer Katie Barnes’ Twitter feed for a moment:

Um. Rachel's dad is a judge. She is not from "the hood" as it were. She's just black. #TheBachelorette

— Katie Barnes (@katie_barnes3) June 20, 2017

SPELLING BEE

Rachel says she wants to test the men in a cerebral way, so she’s making them compete in a spelling bee to find out how clever they are. This is terrible news, because I can’t spell for beans. If this is the measure of a human’s brain power, it’s truly astonishing that I even have a job.

All the words have to do with dating, like, polyamorous, which I couldn’t spell without spellcheck if you put a gun to my head.

Iggy sucks. He’s talking to the camera about how much he hates Josiah, and I can tell that he’s turning himself into the Dude Who Hates All The Other Dudes. Which means that he’ll be going home soon. Someone I can’t remember calls Iggy a “gossip queen,” and I’m laughing.

Josiah wins.

Josiah floats like a butterfly, spells like a bee! #TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/ErVDWCbN5b

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) June 20, 2017

NIGHT GROUP DATE WHICH IS AWFUL BECAUSE LEE IS THERE SO OF COURSE IT IS

Josiah spills a drink on his crotch. I deeply identify with him. Iggy calls Rachel sweetie. I hate Iggy. Iggy seems to have aligned himself with Lee, so Iggy can go straight to hell.

Rachel takes Lee aside and Lee says that Eric screamed at him aggressively. He calls Kenny a ballerina. He picks fights with almost every black contestant while telling the white guys at the bar that he doesn’t have a problem with them.

When Kenny tries to talk to Rachel about Lee, Rachel is like, “Why would Lee say you were aggressive if you weren’t?” And Kenny is like ... “Because Lee doesn’t tell the truth?” And Rachel doesn’t seem to totally buy it. Kenny is left sitting there on a bench with his head in his hands, and I want to punch my television screen.

“Nothing I said made a dent in how she felt about me,” Kenny says. He also says he feels like he’s living in a reality of alternative facts, which is true, and sad, and descriptive of not only the Bachelorette, but also our current cultural state.

NEXT WEEK WILL BE EVEN WORSE

Lee is a reptilian piece of trash. The producers might be, too, because they’re setting Kenny and Lee on a two-on-one date from which only one can return. Oh, and they’re getting two episodes of television out of it. Yup, that’s right: Next week we’re stuck with two evenings of this show.

Clinton Yates, of ESPN’s The Undefeated, said it best:

yeah, two night special with this particular relationship? Incredibly slimy

— Clinton Yates (@clintonyates) June 20, 2017

ENDING THIS RECAP ON “UGH” FOR THE SECOND TIME IN TWO WEEKS

In light of The Bachelor in Paradise allegations, I’ve been reading a lot of first-person accounts from producers on the franchise. They’ve all basically said that morals come second, behind explosive filmed moments, as the TV show UnREAL made so clear.

I can’t help thinking of all of that while watching the microaggressions and coded, racist language that Lee spews everywhere. These people are in a mansion they can’t leave with 24/7 surveillance — it becomes a cage. They have no cell phones or any connection to the outside world. Their environment revolves around killing time and withstanding excruciating boredom. It’s punctuated with bursts of intensity when they’re with Rachel, followed by hours of emptiness to obsess over what they just said and did, as well as what everyone else just said and did.

Producers use this pent up energy and brain spirals to build beds of tinder out of people’s emotions. Then they get contestants to rub each other the wrong way until the whole thing goes up in flames.

This is what reality shows are made from, and it’s slimy in any context. But it can be slimy in a funny way when the lighter fluid is, say, the fact that a contestant eats too much cheese, as it was during Nick’s season. It’s an entirely different ballgame to make blazing drama from racism. It’s not drama. It’s just awful; and the fact that they could’ve avoided this by not putting Lee (whose alleged racist tweets recently surfaced, meaning that the producers either didn’t check his private account, as they claim, or willfully ignored it) on the show, makes it far worse. This is not some way to further a conversation about race in America; it’s exploitative and painful.

I can’t remember what it feels like to watch this show and be amused. I forget that we’re supposed to be watching a show about dating, or something like dating. Instead, it’s become a sinister fun-house that traps viewers and contestants for two hours on a Monday night that we can never get back. And I, for one, would like to get out.