#I’m not kidding when I say I could write a whole thesis about this

[fc43]

Franco went from having no money to get to F2 to now collecting sponsors like Infinity Stones and what's most impressive is that it all started with a hashtag. i need you to sit down and digest my words: it all started with a #….

[indelen]

Alright. Let do this right …

This is my reread of the Lockwood and Co. Books, organized by @blue-boxes-magic-and-tea, I'll make a general summary of several chapters and then post bits and pieces that jumped out at me.

Part I, Chapters 1-2:

I really love the start to this series; the reader is trusted with so much information in such a short time and it’s all well communicated. There’s a Problem - ghosts are real and dangerous. There’s a curfew. Adults are seemingly useless. Kids are thrown into danger via Agencies. Agencies can be small and independent or large corporations with ties to government. There are ghost types. There are talent categories. The capitalism and bureaucracy of it all is very interestingly presented. The narrator is both a child and someone with near noir levels of damage and world weariness. The dialogue is fun and snappy but it's not ever just there for the sake of being there, it reveals bits and pieces of the universe and on re-read you can tell Stroud had all five books laid out somewhat solidly in his mind as he went because from the beginning there’s little dropped details dropped in conversation about, say, Kent being the origin of The Problem - an innocuous bit of lore until it becomes important four books later. Within the first two chapters the trio of main characters are introduced, Lucy and Lockwood's talents are described, their relationship is established. So much done in so little time. I love how concise and evocative it all is.

Bits and pieces:

Obsessed with the idea that the culture in this version of the UK is so lowkey conservative that this poor woman is possibly being haunted by a ghost because her hemline is too short. Can and probably will write a whole thesis about how I think post war Britain conservatism probably never left in this universe and that's why there's a chipper KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON mentality while fucking kids are sent to almost certain death.

Lucy Carlyle, Junior Field Operative only six months with the agency and hired without full agent accreditation, lecturing her boss who’s also her landlord on what not to do and calling him an idiot is so funny to me like, get his ass! Don’t take shit from anyone!

This is only my pet theory, but I think both the fact that Lockwood sees death glows so intensely that he needs sunglasses, and the fact that he can see ones of small mammals, not just humans, is an indication that his Talent is unusually strong. George probably has what is an average amount of Sight for an agent, that is enough to see apparitions and some death glows but not so much as to be overwhelming.  

This is such a wonderfully grim evocative visual of what these children do. Deadly difficult and psychologically damaging labor. Every house could be their coffin. Every assignment could be their last. Their country, their government, in many cases their parents, have already given up on them, the powers that run the country no longer invest in the future of children because children are seen as disposable. Young potential is sacrificed to protect adults comfortably scared in their own protected homes. And this produces a grim, defeatist kind of existence in everyone. If the older generation is not working toward a better future for a new generation of humanity, what are we doing? There's something borderline “Children of Men” depressing about this reality.

When I was first reading this series this was the point when i realized these books are going to be aggressively British.

Murder, Lockwood. She's contemplating your actual murder. You're lucky you're cute.

Ok I’m starting an official Lucy describes Lockwood’s smile counter: 2

[callipraxia]

(The prodigal blogger returns! The good news, my writer's block broke. The...news-that-I-hope-is-no-worse-than-indifferent, anyway, is that it was to write...this thing. Well, gotta start somewhere, right?

I attempted to post the whole thing under a cut here, but unfortunately, I...may have found the character limit. It doesn't make much sense to me to think that I found the character limit, because I'm fairly sure the Ford essay was significantly longer than this, but it's the only reason I can think of why the button won't work properly when I put in all the text. Therefore, have the first two paragraphs followed by a link to the full thing over on dreamwidth, where you can also find my other essays and the incomplete fictions I've also posted over here.)

I was chatting Gravity Falls with a few other authors recently and at some point, the subject of least-favorite characters came up. In the course of this conversation, I expressed mild surprise over hearing that Robbie Valentino is someone who fans would care enough about to even bother hating properly and was told that this is typically because of Robbie's bullying of Dipper. I found this interesting, as although I’m certainly no fan of his – I find his personality irritating, his behavior generally repellent, and his presence in the story kind of a waste of time that could have been used for more interesting things  – it had never occurred to me to think of him as a proper bully. As a jerk? Of course. As a kid who clearly wanted to be a bully? Definitely. But to me, at least, he was always so very bad at it that I remained largely indifferent to him after he stopped being annoying, despite having been bullied rather a lot myself in my younger days. A discrepancy has appeared! You all know what that means - time for the latest installment of Calli Overthinking Things In Walls ‘o Text Yet Again.

Preliminary house-keeping matters: we're talking about bullying and abuse of power, so TW for that. I also want to formally note for the record that this isn't an argumentative essay - I'm in no way trying to say my point of view is more correct than any other. If anything, I'm probably less correct than average, if there's such a thing as a correct way to interpret a character. I'll call this an essay for lack of a better term, but it doesn't aim to prove a thesis. It's just examining the reasons - some personal, some somewhat due to literary conventions - why it didn't occur to me, personally, to think of him as a proper antagonist (or, indeed, to really think of him at all) until I saw others do so. So, this might actually be the first proper personal essay I've ever written....Read more by clicking the link below.

callipraxia | Bullies, Rivals, Comparisons, and the Narrative: Part One (dreamwidth.org)

[trainsinanime]

That post about titles vs last lines (which is harder) is really interesting, because I see so many people say last lines, and that's not the case for me at all. I feel like talking about that, so here's some thoughts on how I write my last lines. I do not think this is universally applicable, I'm not even sure it works that well for me, but maybe it's interesting.

First things first: The last line is easy because you already got the reader on your side. They read through the whole thing without pressing the back button, and they know everything that happened in it. That doesn't mean you can do a bad job here, but it means they're complicit. What you write here is an inside joke between you and them, more or less. You get to use a something you established earlier, a theme, an idea, a literal sentence or similar, and repeat it or play with it, or do a punchline on it.

For example: Everyone Knows Black Cats Are Bad Luck discusses the common fan idea that Chat Noir and/or Adrien is somehow unlucky due to the black cat Miraculous, through a discussion between Adrien and Plagg. It's a simple dialectic: Adrien presents the thesis (also given in the title). Plagg presents the counter-thesis: No, that's stupid. The synthesis (well, it's not a perfect synthesis, Plagg mostly just represents my views here) is the finale, where they both bond even deeper. And the final line distills that synthesis down, when Plagg says,

"Kid, just remember: If I were unlucky, I'd have never met you."

Another option is to humorously counter the story you told so far. Works well for silly stories. For example, in A Friend Like That, the whole story is telling us that Adrien is enamoured with Marinette, pays super-close attention to her, and doesn't even know that he's doing it. It's all about how he sees her, and how much he loves what he's seeing. The final line reverses that, when Marinette says,

“I don’t know. I just wish, you know, that he'd finally notice me.”

Honestly that line is cheating, I don't think Marinette would actually say that. But nobody's called me out on that yet, because it's such a useful punchline.

Another good option: Imply the whole thing is a bit cyclical. The very short Drabble Absence just literally ends the same way as it started, but now we have a completely new context, and what seemed eery and sad at the start (assuming you didn't read the summary or tags; the thing was a Tumblr post at first) is now fun and light-hearted and silly.

(I still deeply regret that I didn't end Marinette's Choice with Marinette feigning death again. The last line there is okay, but it's just one final joke in a story that is just a list of jokes. If Marinette had "died" again, the whole thing would have seemed like a closed narrative.)

How do you help a good friend? ends with

“Only one way to find out, Chaton. Try following that advice you keep getting and ask me out.”

That's a callback to the very start of the story, which makes it feel like a closed narrative, and also implies the start of something new.

Depending on the story, you can also just go weird with it. In The Haunting Spectre, the level of silliness starts strong and keeps rising, and that's really the key thing the story is about. So when we reached the end and have finally reached max silliness, the end just turns it up a notch, when Chloé asks Alya,

“Anyway, I’m fairly certain Adrien doesn’t know that Marinette is Ladybug, but do you think she knows he’s Chat Noir?”

Of course, the best ending line in any of my stories is in Rooftop Musings, although I feel like I can't give any credit for it since it isn't from me, it's stolen, and the whole story is built just to get to it. After a bit of Kagami wondering about Marinette, Adrien, and that one episode in season 3 that made everyone ship Adrigaminette, you know where they were on top of the hotel and everything, we end with the most bitter-sweet line that I and all old Tumblr users know:

Still, if she could, if she had any chance at all, there was only one thing she truly wanted: Spend an extra hour in the ball pit.

[yakultii]

Confession:

(disclaimer: these are only deep contemplations of mine, I have no intention to perform reckless acts)

I've spent a majority of my life wondering if there's something inherently wrong with me in terms of my ability to interact with other people. This is particularly apparent when it comes to (a majority of) my romantic endeavors.

The past two years for me have been spent wondering if everything I've done to follow in the footsteps of those who came before me have been all for naught. The more time goes by, the more it seems to hold true. We're not really meant to conform to society as it is now.

I believe that a majority of us have never truly experienced the raw sensations which are meant to accompany being human, and emptiness is no stranger to those of us who are attempting to navigate this world rather than be pulled along by the tide; it all seems to be superficial, and I rarely encounter people who are brave enough to admit their entire life has been a lie.

Perhaps it could just be the ramblings of someone who is so far removed from normality, but I often think (and have thought so before, in my teens) that my views are abnormal and that it would be better for me to speak less than say what I really feel about the world and others around me.

I have been awaiting someone who may understand and accept for me for who I am. I've found what I thought to be true love many times, and it has made me a much better person, but I often think about if things would be better if I were someone else.

you know, I could obviously be wrong (just kidding I’m literally god) but to me, every point you made is a part the human experience itself - personally I’ve come to accept that yes there is something inherently wrong with me - in terms of the norms that have been socially constructed within the society I live in, but that doesn’t actually mean it’s wrong (language and concepts, rights & wrongs etc are all socially constructed too).. it doesn’t make the longing to feel “right” any easier, but there’s a little less pain in accepting “it is what it is”…but at the same time, while you may never feel understood (at least I haven’t yet either and have come to accept maybe I never will), you’re still a human! (despite maybe not feeling like it at times?) so there’s a commonality there that literally can’t be taken away from you..also feel understood in knowing there are others out there who feel so incredibly misunderstood too, maybe in different ways but the feeling is still the same..FEELING IS ALWAYS THE SAME despite being expressed and described in different ways (so very human!) ….another thing I’ve learned is that socialisation takes a lot of practice and consistency combined with again acceptance that maybe you won’t feel understood, sometimes understanding yourself can be enough and sometimes understanding yourself can be too much, so know that just “being” is all that was ever required of you while you’re here.

I don’t think we’re meant to “do anything” really, I don’t think we should be trying to “be anything” unless it brings us fulfilment in some way (and sometimes this fulfilment is false due to conforming to a certain expectation which is a whole other can of worms but regardless it’s fulfilment in some form)..

idk I feel like I could go on forever but for the sake of not writing an entire thesis I’m just gonna say whether we believe anything to be superficial or “real” ..it is. We can easily say everything is superficial OR everything is real or some things are superficial and some things are real and all theories are as true as each other. Language has been created and used to once again construct concepts within society but at the end of the day everything we think we know is all manmade - like, we genuinely could all conclude our entire life is a lie bc literally what the fuck is this??? like idk why I’m here or if existence on earth is even real.. and like the fact we are just here for a bit and then we’re gone like the fuck is up with that?? :,)

also, if you feel this way I’m assuming ur neurodiverse and if this is the case then pls remember that while ur views may seem/feel abnormal etc. maybe it’s just the way you express them? maybe it’s just the way you think about them? maybe it’s the way others don’t think about them in the same way you do? maybe it’s the way others don’t express them in the same way you do? none of this means that you have entirely different views.. in fact probably many ppl, particularly neurodiverse ppl have come to similar conclusions, but y’all are never going to feel as though you relate bc ur minds are so particular about the ways in which you perceive, interpret and express things that nothing anyone says is ever going to feel right/just like how you percieve and express things - ikr kinda brutal that not even neurodiverse ppl can relate to each other half the time, leaving us to feel even more isolated than we already do…

anyways this is just from my experiences/understandings of the world and obvs it might not click with you (and it also takes practice to rewire ur thinking… and also my way of thinking is not right or wrong and is also everchanging) - but also pls don’t try to be someone else (u can try out different identities bc identities are socially constructed also and are an ongoing performance but don’t try any that don’t feel right for you) , you wouldn’t have been born if the world requested someone else at that particular time, life is about learning and experiencing and taking our own unique path so try ur very best to not compare urs to others and try to find confidence in urself as you are first (Ik easier said than done but practice liteeally fake it at first if u need) and im sure you’ll find that more ppl then start to find confidence in you too <33 maybe oneday you’ll feel understood, but there are glimpses of light in the meantime, promise!

[bard-llama]

WiP Wednesday: The Seduction of the Innocent

Okay, firstly, this entire idea is really the brainchild of myself and steveelotaku and we’ve had fun coming up with stuff for it. The title is his suggestion - based on that crackpot book written about Batman and Robin being gay and corrupting the youth of America. It’s PERFECT for a fic that is all about Zuko writing a comic strip to help support his thesis as he goes to Ba Sing Se University lol

Premise: Zuko needs a hobby to keep himself occupied during the idle times of teaserving/vigilantism - and ends up writing. His new BFF Jin also suggests that he apply for Ba Sing Se University when his history of researching the Avatar and their cultures comes out. So Zuko ends up writing a thesis that studying ancient/declining cultures (Air Nomads and the Water Tribes) is worthwhile in the world today (bc the Water Tribes still exist and there’s 1 living Air Nomad). To help make his point/spread knowledge about the different cultures, he and Jin end up creating a comic series about The Adventures of the Blue Spirit and the Avatar (and co). Through the hijinks of the Blue Spirit and the Avatar traveling around the world (remember, there’s no war in Ba Sing Se), they fight crime and evildoers and teach each other about their cultures.

So, right now I’m thinking this is actually 2 fics: a prequel and a sequel. The prequel will be all about establishing Zuko going to Uni and creating the comic and some of its effects (it’s REALLY popular with kids!). The sequel is when the Gaang (Zuko coined the name) finds out about the comics and read them - and then Aang, who KNOWS who the Blue Spirit is, goes looking for the author to confront them. He suspects it’s Zuko, but he doesn’t actually BELIEVE that it’s really Zuko. After all, how could ZUKO get into Ba Sing Se and why would he write comics explaining how the Air Nomads believed in peace?

(For those that dislike shipping in atla, the sequel will have some Zuko/Aang, but probably T-rated teens dating. Not wholly sure yet, but I think the whole series will be T)

So far, I have a few random scenes written, so I’ll share some snippets here, but also, I HAVE to tell you about what steveelotaku came up with for the comic!!!

The Comics

So like I said, the premise of the comics is: the adventures the Gaang + the Blue Spirit get up to, while fighting off their standard array of villains. (Credit for these goes to steveelotaku, who is incredible and came up with GREAT villains!)

The Big Bad: Fire Lord Ozai

But, I hear you say, there’s no war in Ba Sing Se! So how-? Well, the answer is - Zuko REALLY wanted to draw his dad receiving a pie to the face (look, he’s upset about the whole traitor thing and he needs an outlet) from Aang, so he invented a silly Silver Age Comics campy reason for why the Fire Lord hates the Avatar: the Avatar blew storm clouds over his parade and RUINED his hair! (Ozai hates getting wet 😂)

Other Recurring Villains:

Sparkler, the Princess of Pyromania: Fire-themed villain with a mysterious connection to the Blue Spirit and a grudge against them

The Koan: Basically Buddhist Riddler. "What is the sound of one hand picking your pocket?"  "If a building blows up, and no one is around to see it, did I commit a crime?"

The Cabbage Merchant of Death: Literally just the cabbage merchant, but breeding his cabbages to attack humanity as vengeance for overturning his cart. (The Cabbage Merchant actually loves the comics and his portrayal. Someone recognized his plight! So he taped one of the panels to his cart.)

The Tapestry: Literally a guy dressed in a tapestry who makes horrible weaving jokes and uses sharp threads. "Knit one, purl-oin two gold bars!"

The Ember Island Jester: The only actor to be fired from the Ember Island Players, because his jokes were terrible. His crimes are all theater-themed and he wears a comedy mask. "Four nations, all alike in dignity, all ripe for the plundering!" "It's curtains for you, Blue Spirit! -drops a heavy curtain on him-"

The Nightingale: Basically the Penguin, but with an army of robot nightingales, like in the old Chinese fable about the Emperor who forgot how a nightingale had brought him joy when a mechanical one is given to him, only for it to save him later. Only this time, the Nightingale is some minor noble who got fired and now keeps pestering Ozai with his robot nightingales and Ozai has to call for the Blue Spirit, much to his frustration. "The Nightingale sings the song of your doom!" Aang: "How does that go?" "Uh...doom! DOOM DOOM DOOM! DOOM doom DOOOOOM!"

Okay, so those are our Villains. Now what about our heroes? Remember, the Gaang is being written by Zuko - who may do lots and lots of research and maybe has stalked them on occasion, but still doesn’t really KNOW them.

The Blue Spirit - Zuko goes in hard on the tropes, so the Blue Spirit is totally the broody badboy. He has a secret identity that no one knows. Also, he tells tea jokes and makes tea puns. Iroh is very proud.

Aang, The Avatar - Aang is the epitome of “peace, love, and happiness make the world go round” (real Aang finds this hilarious) but he’s also an incurable prankster

Toph, The Avatar’s Earthbending Teacher - Toph is the buffest, littlest character there is and it is unclear whether she beats villains with her bending or her fists or if the two are one and the same.

Katara, The Avatar’s Waterbending Teacher - Katara is the scariest motherfucker on the team and Zuko stands by that. She has some of the corny “hope” lines, complementing Aang, but mostly, it’s her determination that makes her scary. When she decides something, it happens. (Zuko might be projecting a bit, but he’s not wrong.)

Sokka, The Avatar’s Jester/Strategist - Sokka is the straight forward comic relief and is a walking joke, but he does tend to suggest the plans that work... they’re just very, very ridiculous, in line with Silver Age comics ridiculousness.

And some choice lines by steveelotaku:

"Holy cumulus, Blue Spirit! The Fire Nation's set fire to the tea tree grove!" "The fiends! It's not enough for them to boil it too long--now they're roasting it to ashes!" "Halt, Blue Spirit! Your pathetic crusade of justice stops here!" "It's that suspicious sous-chef of sabotage, Serial Griller! Fire Lord Ozai's right hand cook!" "That's right, Blue Blunder! And today's special is deep fried masked man with a side of Avatar fries!"

"Blue Spirit! Help!" "By the subtle tang of oolong tea! Avatar, you're turning into a were-bison!" Not a trick! Not an imaginary story! The Avatar's best friend might just be his doom! Can Aang and the Blue Spirit survive...THE NIGHT OF THE APPA-LLING WERE-BISON?!

AND NOW, THE SECRET ORIGIN OF THE BLUE SPIRIT: A nameless warrior stands on the battlefield in the pouring rain. Another village massacred, the survivors left for dead. He alone had dared to speak against this heinous crime, and for that he was cast out from the only family he had. Hiding within a teahouse, he took with him the one souvenir of that battle he dared to claim--the mask of the Blue Spirit, a warrior who had fought for justice against his cruel oppressors. Now, the warrior takes the mantle for himself--to find redemption, or die trying!

Snippets:

The Beginning

Zuko needed a hobby, was the thing. He was really, really busy in Ba Sing Se, between being a tea server and being the Blue Spirit. But there was a lot of idle time in both roles and Zuko just needed something to keep him occupied. It wasn’t supposed to turn into a big thing.

Only one day, Jin had caught him writing at the teashop and demanded to read it and… look. It was just a lark. It was just a funny little idea that he was toying with. It didn’t mean anything.

It was in the afternoon lull and Uncle was, fortunately, in the backroom, doing tea things. Meanwhile, Zuko’s only other customer was an old accountant who was always buried in their books and never registered anything going on around them. They liked Pao’s strongest tea.

This meant that there was no one else around to see the look on Jin’s face when she read through his scrawled handwriting – he was much better at writing with a calligraphy brush, but these days, charcoal was as good as it got – depicting a silly dialogue exchange between the Blue Spirt and the Avatar. It was just one of the questions he’d always wanted to ask the Avatar, one that wasn’t really important, but that had bothered him until he’d researched it anyway.

“Li,” she said slowly.

Zuko gulped. “Yeah?”

“This… this is good,” she said with a tone of wonder. “Seriously, I really like this!”

“You… do?” Zuko blinked, not sure what to do with that. “But it’s – it’s–”

“Funny? Enjoyable? Cute?”

“Dumb.”

“Bullshit,” Jin said bluntly. “You’re allowed to enjoy dumb things, Li. As long as it’s fun, what else matters?”

Zuko frowned. That was not a philosophy about life that he was familiar with.

“Do you think the Avatar really throws pies in people’s faces?” Jin asked with a laugh.

“Oh, that bit I can confirm,” Zuko flashed a brief grin. “I found a letter from the King of Omashu to the Southern Air Temple that very specifically said Aang and his friends had pie’d the King’s Guard.”

Jin blinked. “What do you mean, you found a letter?”

“Oh,” Zuko bit his lip, realizing he really shouldn’t have said that. “I, um. I… studied the Avatar. For a long time. And the Air Nomads and the Water Tribes, a little bit.”

“Really?” Jin looked excited, of all things. “That’s so cool! So you were a mini scholar before tragedy struck, huh? Are you gonna try to apply for Ba Sing Se University? You should!”

“I… what?”

“It’s not often someone from the Lower Ring gets accepted,” Jin said, “but it does happen! And I know you’d study really hard and there are scholarships and things to help pay for it. You should try!”

“I’ll… think about it?” Zuko said, taken entirely off guard.

“You should write more, too,” Jin encouraged. “Honestly, it’s a really fun scene. I kinda wanna draw it.”

Jin’s family ran what was probably one of the best places in town to get writing and illustration done on a budget. This meant that Jin spent a lot of time drawing what she called ‘very boring adverts’. He wouldn’t think his scene was that interesting either, but Jin’s face was genuine and she smiled at him.

“Really?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“Yeah, absolutely,” Jin grinned, “just the visual of the Fire Lord getting a pie in the face–” she broke down laughing.

Zuko flushed. It was possible he was a bit upset with his father for marking him as a traitor and sending his sister to bring him home in chains. And it wasn’t like a little pie had ever hurt anyone…

During Zuko’s Tour of Ba Sing Se University (from the POV of the admissions tour guide)

“As part of your curriculum. You don’t study other cultures, like the Water Tribes and the Air Nomads?”

There was a loud scoff from behind Min and she turned to see Professor Lang sneering down his nose at the kid. 

“Of course not,” he said. “What use is there in studying ancient civilizations?”

The kid looked confused for a brief moment… and then he got mad, and wow, he was actually kind of scary underneath that scruffy unkemptness. 

“The Water Tribes aren’t dead! And even if the Air Nomads are, there’s still reason to learn about them!”

“And what, pray tell, would that be?”

The kid had a pretty impressive snarl. “The Earth Kingdom has trade contracts relating to the Water Tribes, who are still alive. And there’s one living Air Nomad now, too!”

Min blinked. What did that mean?

“Pah,” Professor Lang spat. “The Avatar is not part of any culture.”

The what? 

“The Avatar isn’t told until they turn sixteen. Until that age, Avatar Aang was and still is an Air Nomad.”

What!?

“The… Avatar?” Min said vaguely. How had she not heard about this? “The Avatar is back? And they’re an Air Nomad!?”

The kid looked scared for a moment. Perhaps he could sense how closely they danced to the dangerous territory of current events. 

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “We, um. We heard before coming to Ba Sing Se that the Avatar is back. And – and he’s an Air Nomad. So there’s relevance in understanding the Air Nomad culture! Because, like…” he visibly flailed for an example that would be acceptable, “like family!” He held up his finger triumphantly. “Culture affects what words mean. In the Earth Kingdom, family is defined as your clan, tied to you through blood, marriage, or contract. In the Water Tribes, the whole tribe is family and everything is done in service to that family. But to the Air Nomads? They defined family as people chosen based on who you wanted in your life. They did not recognize blood ties.”

Min and Professor Lang both stared at the kid. 

“How – how do you know that?” Professor Lang asked eventually.

The kid froze. “I, um. I did a lot of research on – on the Avatar and, and their cultures. I’m not making it up! One of their core tenets was that the blood of the covenant was thicker than water of the womb, meaning those who share their vows are more kin than those who share their blood. They were more concerned with spirituality and behavior.” The kid sighed heavily. “I wish my old library hadn’t burned. I had some amazing finds.”

Min’s eyebrow arched. That almost made it sound like, despite the current state of things, this kid had some noble background. Well, well. That changed things.

She clapped her hands together. “This sounds like an excellent topic for a thesis, don’t you agree, Professor Lang?”

“A – what?”

“A thesis, of course. You have an argument to make – that ancient/declining cultures still have a role in our society. Through your course of study here at Ba Sing Se, you will learn how to draft an effective argument, backed by primary sources.”

“I had primary sources!” the kid said, sounding strangely offended.

“Of course,” Min allowed.

“You want this disrespectful brat to write a thesis on such an absurd topic!?” Professor Lang burst out.

“He argued his point well, did he not?” Min shrugged, smiling pleasantly. 

“I have another one,” the kid – Li, according to her file – said. “The Air Nomads were pacifists. They didn’t believe in consuming the flesh of any creature, because in their view, violence was abhorrent in any form. So think about it… the – the Avatar’s job is to bring peace and balance to the world, right?”

Min took a sharp breath. That was coming a little too close to–

“Well, Air Nomads were very devoted to peace. They have eighty-seven words for peace, all of which mean different things. Some of which, if applied to the nations by the Avatar, would face significant dissent. So in dealing with the Avatar, it’s important to know that you need to clarify the meaning of things being discussed.”

“And you expect to be ‘dealing with the Avatar’, do you?” Professor Lang sneered.

Li opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “Of course not,” he said, “but that’s precisely why the study of these cultures is so significant! Because if it’s not widespread knowledge, then we’re all at a disadvantage.”

Min clapped, “well said. What is knowledge but a tool for the betterment of ourselves?”

“...right,” Li nodded hesitantly.

(For those curious, Professor Lang knows about Aang because the Gaang and Joo Dee went by the university when they first came to Ba Sing Se - but the visit was kept moderately hush hush, because talking about the Avatar can mean talking about the war. This changes when the comic takes off.)

From the next scene

Jin was pacing in Pao’s Teashop as they all waited excitedly to hear the results of Li’s visit to the university. Mushi was channeling his anxiety into making lots of tea, so Jin was spending far more than she should on new pots, but at least sipping tea gave her something to do.

Finally, Li opened the door – and jerked back as everyone in the teashop – four of the afternoon regulars and Jin, plus one couple that had no idea what was going on – rounded on him.

“Well? How did it go?”

“Uh.” Li scratched his head. “I think I’m a student now?”

Jin blinked. “I thought you were just going to apply?”

“So did I,” Li shrugged. “And then I got into an argument with a professor during the tour–”

Everyone groaned collectively.

“Oh, Nephew,” Mushi sighed, coming out from behind the counter and ushering Li into the room.

“Of course you did,” Jin laughed.

“But it was fine,” Li huffed. “In fact, I think it actually helped me? I guess I’m writing a thesis on the Avatar and also why studying other cultures matters?”

“You’re… what?” Mushi said blankly.

Li shrugged helplessly. “It just kinda happened.”

Now we skip waaaaaaay ahead to the sequel, to when the Gaang (well, Aang specifically) finds out about The Adventures of the Blue Spirit and the Avatar

It started with an innocently overheard conversation at a bakery near their Upper Ring house while waiting for the new pies to cool.

“Did you read it?” one girl hissed to another. “Did you see!?”

“Yes!” the second girl sounded so excited that it was hard to control her volume. “I told you! It’s real! Spiritar is canon!”

“I just can’t believe it,” the only boy amongst the group murmured. “I didn’t see it coming at all.”

“That’s because you never listen to us,” the first girl sniffed. “I called the Blue Spirit x Avatar Aang coming from miles away.”

The… what?

Aang blinked, turning to stare at them. “I’m sorry, did you say Avatar?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, who’s asking – oh sweet spirits, it’s the Avatar!” the boy looked like he was about to hyperventilate.

“Um. Hi,” Aang waved awkwardly.

The two girls squeaked and flushed red. “Hi,” they managed, one more easily than the other.

“Did you say something about – about the Blue Spirit and the Avatar?”

“Oh spirits,” the second girl whispered under her breath. “Oma and Shu, why would you do this to us?”

“Um?”

“Okay, so,” the first girl cleared her throat. “Um, let’s start at the beginning. Are you familiar with The Adventures of the Blue Spirit and the Avatar?”

“The… huh?” Aang’s mouth twisted in confusion. Who was the Blue Spirit and what did they have to do with him?

There was a cleared throat from next to them and another woman in the bakery stood behind them. “Hi, I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear and – I have a binder just for this purpose.” She pulled out a thick binder full of papers and thudded it down on the table. Then she opened it to a page that had two figures cut out from an inked illustration. One was obviously Aang, though his arrows weren’t quite that big – but the other… the other was–

“The Blue Spirit, you called them?” Aang asked, staring at the mask that he remembered with stark distinction. If the stranger in the mask hadn’t saved him…

But then, of course, the stranger turned out to not be so strange after all. Aang could still feel the rough bark under his fingers as he played with it, waiting for Zuko to wake up.

If we knew each other then, do you think we could’ve been friends? he’d asked, and Zuko hadn’t actually answered, but the blast of fire spoke many words.

“You don’t know them?” the girls all looked up at him with a broken sort of hope.

“I – I do,” Aang answered hesitantly. “But I never got their name.”

“Yes!” two of them high fived and Aang just stared at them. “Uh, sorry.”

“Anyway,” the girl with the binder said, “The Adventures of the Blue Spirit and the Avatar, originally simply titled the Blue Spirit, is a serial comic created by Li and Jin. They’re two artists in the Lower Ring, if you can believe that. But Li attends Ba Sing Se University!”

“Uh. Okay?”

She cleared her throat, flushing. “Um, at any rate, the comics are aimed at children and Li has been recorded as saying that he wanted to explain cultural differences through a fun story. And they deliver! The characters are great, the dialogue is snappy, the illustration is beautiful, and the plots are silly but fun.”

“Nothing will ever top the Fire Lord getting pie’d in the face, though,” the first girl said nostalgically.

“What?” Aang asked.

“Oh, I have that in my binder!” The girl flipped through several pages and landed on a comic panel pasted onto the paper. It depicted – exactly what they said. Fire Lord Ozai – who Aang had never actually seen in person, but he had seen a few paintings and it looked pretty accurate – receiving a cream pie to the face. Actually, the pie was drawn pretty well, too – it even had the lemon curd filling that Aang and Master Gyatso used to add for extra gooeyness.

That was surely just a coincidence, though. Right? It wasn’t like the Blue Spirit could really be–

“It’s a really famous picture now,” the girl with the binder whispered to Aang. “It’s the only thing like it that hasn’t been censored by the Dai Li. See, in The Adventures of the Blue Spirit and the Avatar, the Fire Lord has a legitimate reason to hate the Avatar.”

…was stopping him from destroying the world not legitimate?

“Oh?”

“Oh, I love this one. Show him the comic strip!”

“Here it is!”

Aang looked down to see a single panel of Fire Lord Ozai, this time wailing, “my hair!”

“Uh…”

“The Avatar was flying a kite,” one girl explained, “and he was messing with the wind currents – but it made storm clouds fall on the Fire Lord’s parade and ruined his hair!” They all chortled. “Literally you rained on his parade!”

Aang… did not know how to react to that.

“So anyway, the Avatar and his friends join the Blue Spirit and fight crime and evildoers!”

“Yeah, the Blue Spirit is a vigilante, you know that, of course,” one girl said and actually, Aang had not known that. “So they team up with the Avatar and with the whole Gaang–”

“Pardon?”

“Oh yeah, isn’t it great? It’s ‘gang’ but with 2 ‘a’s, like your name! To encompass all of you together!”

Aang hummed. He did like it, actually. Sokka would be upset that he hadn’t come up with it.

Especially if the person who did come up with it was really–

But surely it couldn’t be. How would Zuko have even gotten into Ba Sing Se?

From the confrontation between Aang and Zuko after Aang tracks down the creators of the comics (with some shippiness)

“Soooo,” Jin drawled, sprawling in a booth in the otherwise empty teashop, “guess what happened today?”

Zuko, busy wiping down a table, didn’t answer.

“C’mon, guess! It’ll interest you, I promise.”

“I dunno. You… had an idea for a comic?”

“That happens every day, Li,” she said flatly.

Zuko sighed. “Just tell me.”

“Fine, fine,” Jin paused, making him wait, and then she burst out, “the Avatar came by the shop!”

Zuko froze, blood draining from his face. The Avatar. The Avatar was here. The Avatar was here and knew about the comics, elsewise why would he have gone to Jin’s family’s shop?

Oh, this couldn’t be good.

“Li? You okay?”

Before Zuko could answer – negatively – the door to the teashop opened and the Avatar walked inside.

Zuko wanted to die. This was it. This was the end of him. This was when his cover would get blown and everyone would know and hate him and–

“Hi,” Aang greeted them pleasantly. “I’m looking for Li.”

Zuko just about swallowed his tongue. There was no way that Aang had failed to recognize him. The change in hairstyle did not make up for the huge disfiguring scar.

Raising a shaking hand, Zuko managed a strangled, “I’m Li.”

The Avatar smiled. What even–?

“I thought it might be you,” Aang said. “But I also kind of thought I was probably wrong.”

Not having any idea what to say, all Zuko could do was swallow drily.

“Huh,” Jin said, “you really have met the Avatar.”

Zuko flushed. “I told you!”

“You say lots of things, though,” Jin contested. Usually, Zuko was grateful that she let his slip ups go so easily, but right now, he was just annoyed.

“I don’t lie,” he frowned. That was a rule for him. His whole identity may be a lie, but at least he would do his best to live honorably.

Aang coughed and Zuko flushed brighter, jerking his attention back to the man who, technically, was still his enemy.

“Sorry,” Jin laughed, holding out her hand, “hi, I’m Jin. I hear you went by my family’s shop earlier looking for us?”

“You’re the illustrator?” Aang asked.

“Yep, that’s me!” Jin beamed, showing off her chipped teeth.

“Wow. You do a really good job of showing different places,” Aang complimented and Zuko stared. What was even happening?

“Oh, that’s all thanks to Li,” Jin demurred. “Sometimes I dunno whether his descriptions are accurate or not, but he believes in them so much that it just seems right to go with it.”

Zuko groaned, slapping a hand to his face. “Jin…”

Aang smiled wider and it made Zuko’s heart pound, cheeks turning pinker. “Well, you both create very good comics,” Aang said casually, as though Zuko wasn’t close to expiring on the spot.

“You – you read them?” Zuko croaked.

“Of course,” Aang said. “We had to see what was being written about us!”

Oh. Great. So all of Aang’s friends had read them. Fuck.

Oh Agni, did that include the most recent issue? Maybe he was lucky for once in his life and it didn’t–

Aang pulled out a comic and the cover was quite familiar. Jin had drawn the Blue Spirit in the middle in a ridiculous pose that really emphasized his butt – even moreso than the original draft, because Jin was an asshole and made the change after he complained. Behind the Blue Spirit were various headshots of the Gaang – Zuko came up with the name and he was rather proud of it – with little hearts all around them.

The cover proclaimed, ONE OF THESE PEOPLE IS THE BLUE SPIRIT'S SOULMATE – BUT WHO!? and the story was all about one of the regular villains, Sparkler – who totally wasn’t Azula – trying to find the Blue Spirit’s lover to blackmail him. After she was defeated, the true lover was revealed… with a kiss, because of course it was.

Zuko felt like he might cry at the absurdity of this being how his life falls apart (again).

“Sooooo, um…” Aang started and Zuko could not look at him.

“In my defense,” Zuko started, his mouth absolutely disconnecting from his brain, “it was a reader request.”

Aang tilted his head. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, you don’t read the letters at the end of the issue?” Jin asked, “you really should, they’re quite fun. We answer questions and requests from readers – mostly kids, but sometimes their parents, too.”

“And a kid… asked about–?”

Zuko just nodded mutely, but Jin – the traitor! – explained, “they asked about who the Blue Spirit’s soulmate would be. And obviously – ow!” Zuko elbowed her hard in the side, but it was too late. Aang’s eyebrows were high.

“‘Obviously’?”

“I mean, have you read the flirting?” Jin asked. “Li writes fantastic banter, doesn’t he?”

“Fucking hell, Jin, shut up!” Zuko hissed, and he was sure that his face was hot enough to be steaming. Hopefully Jin wouldn’t question it.

“Oh, all right, all right, I’ll let you two talk alone. But don’t forget the afternoon rush will be soon!”

So saying, Jin sidled out the door, headed back to work. The Avatar opened his mouth as soon as she was gone and Zuko quite abruptly wanted her back. He scrambled around for a change of topic and grasped the teapot next to him.

“Tea! Would – would you like some tea? We have–”

“I liked the tea jokes in the comics,” Aang said calmly. How was he calm when Zuko was about to shake out of his skin?

The pottery clattered slightly from his trembling hands, but he served Aang a cup of jasmine tea. “Those mostly came from Uncle,” he murmured.

“Well, they were fun,” Aang said, taking the cup and immediately sipping it as though it hadn’t been poured by his enemy. Then he smiled. “Jasmine. I like jasmine. It was my mentor’s favorite.”

“I know,” Zuko said without thinking.

“You… know?” Aang blinked. “How?”

“Uh.” Oh Agni, how was he supposed to explain this. “One of the Elders at your temple kept a journal. It survived.”

Aang stared. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Zuko nodded. “Monk Tashi. He complained about how often you got into trouble and how Monk Gyatso only encouraged it.”

Aang inhaled sharply, breath hitching at Gyatso’s name. Zuko could only imagine how much the loss hurt him. If Zuko ever lost Uncle…

Okay, that’s all I got, but I’m very excited for this series, so I hope you enjoy!

[pointofreturn]

professor's pet, pt. 2

For the first three years, the professor and I were just in each other’s orbit. I don’t take any of his classes for one reason or another, but we saw each other often and always said a cordial hello with the slow burn unextinguishable between us.

I start to involve myself in the AU community, joining the literary magazine and inquiring about graduate school. I began to picture my life as an academic, researching and writing about the books I loved to read. I became editor-in-chief of the magazine senior year and got a taste of teaching for the first time. I began to picture my life as a professor, and I decided that was the path I was going to pursue. It seemed the solution to the issue of what to do with my life. And what could be better—talking about literature, writing and teaching.

I kept my admiration for the professor silent. It was just a fun, innocent crush. Nothing that would ever impact my life in any real way. I graduated with my bachelor’s and was accepted to the master’s program. I joined committees, led the graduate student program, presented my work, attended events and networked. I was determined to show my worth to AU. The community seemed what I had been searching for my whole life.

I started working in the writing center in the evenings and ran into the professor often beforehand. I started learning about where he was from and a little bit about his family. His defensive armor appeared impenetrable. Even as he was unwilling to share information about himself and his life, even though he seemed desperate to do so.

I was surprisingly open with him about my struggles, some of them anyway. My personal experience naturally began to overlap with my academic work and I felt safe talking with him, opening up in ways I hadn’t even been with Seb. When the professor did speak, he would frequently apologize for oversharing, or muse that he shouldn’t “reveal so much to a student.” Yet he kept opening up to me, bit by bit, chips were coming off of his armor. We eventually exchanged phone numbers because he was notoriously difficult to reach. And then we started texting.

The texting started sporadically and gradually became more frequent. The professor and I got closer as he became the primary advisor to my master’s thesis, but there was always something underlying when we were together. There was an energy between us, one that was both familiar and deeply unnerving. It burned more intensely the more time we spent together.

*

I sit in the cafeteria, filling out a tedious administrative form to approve a memorial event for a graduate student who died recently in a tragic car accident. As graduate student president, the responsibility of organizing and hosting the memorial falls on my shoulders.

I drink a chai latte and feel a watchful energy before noticing the professor in my peripheral vision. He and a friend sit at a table across from me, but he faces me directly, unable to look away. I pretend not to notice him. I drink my latte, finish the damn form, and gather some courage before getting up to walk past them.

I couldn’t ignore the intensity of his gaze if I tried.

He says my name.

Chills.

His friend speaks up, “Hi, I’m Jared. Are you in the department?”

I smile at Jared, willing myself to turn from the professor’s electric stare. “Yes, I’m a grad student. Dr. ______ is one of my advisors.”

The professor speaks again, “You seemed very busy over there, very focused.”

“Oh, you noticed? I was. I had to fill out one of those admin forms for an event. I was asked to organize a memorial for Mike.”

They both frown at me.

“Oh gosh, awful, awful thing that happened.”

“Yes,” the professor says, “Terrible. I can’t even imagine. I never taught him, but I know he was a great student.”

“He was in one of my classes,” Jared says. “Good kid, smart kid. Gone too soon.”

“Yeah…everyone is pretty torn up about it. And I guess I’m going to have to speak at this thing….You know, say a few words or something since I’m the host or whatever.”

“When is it?” the professor asks.

“Friday. Two weeks from now…If my paperwork gets approved.”

“I’m sure it will.”

The two weeks pass. As I’m driving to the memorial, I get a call from one of the other students helping with the event, a friend of Mike’s. He’s been particularly shaken up by his passing.

“Mollie, hey, where are you?”

“I’m almost there…Sorry, I’m running a little late. Is everyone there already?”

“Yeah, it’s filling up, but you have some time. Hey, guess who’s here?”

My stomach burns. I already know the answer.

“Who?” I fail to stop my voice from cracking.

“Dr. ______. I thought he never showed up to events. Did he teach Mike?”

I know the answer to this too, but I lie.

“I have no idea, maybe he wanted to pay his respects.”

I arrive and immediately see the professor as I exit the elevator. He meets my gaze. He looks like he wants to say something, but doesn’t. That will become a familiar look.

I break the tension with pleasantries.

“Hey! I didn’t know you were going to be here…Thanks for showing up.”

“Of course…I—” he stops himself and surveys our surroundings.

“Is it okay if I leave my purse and jacket with you? I gotta go up there now I guess.”

He’s caught off guard. I’m not sure why he always seems puzzled around me. “Oh yes, of course…I’ll keep it safe.”

I welcome everyone to the memorial and try to speak from my heart instead of my mind. I read a poem written by one of Mike’s friends and nearly break down in front of everyone and then sit back and maintain my composure as I watch Mike’s friends reminisce about his life and their loss. I still can’t let myself cry in front of people or talk about my own pain, so I feel their suffering silently, trying to telepathically communicate that I know exactly how they’re feeling.

They finish speaking and there must be some ending to the memorial. I haven’t prepared anything, but it seems disrespectful to just dismiss everyone to the snack table. So once again, I go up to the podium and fly by the seat of my spirit.

I don’t remember the words I say, but I remember the general message—live every day as if we are dying, a life worth living is a life of authenticity, what makes life worth living is being with people who fill us up and going after anything we desire.

There are few dry eyes in the room when my speech concludes. I’m not sure why my words have such an impact, but they do. Maybe I was infused with the holy spirit for a moment. I receive praise and affirmation from the people I admire most. They hug me and tell me what a wonderful speaker I am. One of the writing professors I revere tells me I have “incredible poise”—a compliment I’ll carry for life.

The crowd finally disperses towards the food, the only reason half of them are here anyway.

I approach the professor. He’s still in his chair and there is a mistiness in his eyes.

Did I make you cry? Did I make you feel something?

“Hey, thanks for watching my stuff—”

He cuts me off and holds out his hand, gesturing for me to take it. I glance quickly around the crowded room, then fully meet his gaze.

I take his hand in front of our entire department. But there seems to be no one but us in the room.

Can I even remember what you said?

He speaks quickly, breathlessly, as if he won’t let himself say the words unless he does it impulsively. “Your speech…You were amazing. Your words…so powerful. You must know, that you have a gift…What you did to these people in this room…Not everyone can—”

He won’t let go of my hand.

I can’t breathe. I can’t think.

It’s too much.

What were you doing to me? What was that feeling?

Another student interrupts us. He looks annoyed with her but they have to meet so he leaves before profusely apologizing to me.

The first touch. The wheel turns.

[fundielicious-simblr]

Hey there! I’ve been a fan of the Collinses (and associates! lol) ever since you started posting. Now that I’ve begun my own blog, I have to say (with the utmost admiration and respect) I’m stunned that you’re able to manage so many damn families!

I’ve played plenty of fundie saves before, but always with a single heir per generation, which means I’m woefully inexperienced with rotational gameplay. It’s so difficult, especially when you have to juggle varying levels of fundie-ness between households, extended family relationships, constant pregnancies, timeline issues and taking posed/stages screenshots for posts on top of actual gameplay!

If you’re up for it, I would so appreciate any advice/tips/tricks you have to offer re: dealing with rotational fundie gameplay. Either way, many thanks for sticking around for so long and sharing your sims with us ☺️

Hi! I'm so happy that you enjoy the blog, honestly I've been doubting whether that many people read it anymore, I just keep posting for my own personal satisfaction. As usual I'm a rambler, so this is about to be a mini-thesis, which will be below the cut!

If there's anything that I can say to explain how I do it, it's that you should just plan. Plan, Plan, and Plan. I micromanage every little thing that happens in my sims lives, I have two saves: one for gameplay and one for taking pictures. This is so that I can be ahead in terms of the plot lines and pictures without having to rush the actual game. I've mentioned it a few times here and there, but I have this mega doc with literally everything that pertains to my sims. It's got their life stories, love stories, random facts like allergies, their birthdays, the 'outcomes' for labour and delivery which effect how many kids they have, what kind of jobs they work, etc. For planning I also have a mega note on my phone with each post and what I'll write for it, I plan what will be said and who will be included, and sometimes the outfits required for them to wear or whatever poses I'm going to need for the post. It's also where I dump future ideas that I'll eventually work into a post if I want to. Since weddings are a pillar of fundie life, I have a separate note with all things weddings, before I wedding I plan the outfits for everyone from the bride and groom and their parents to the bridal party. I assign the wedding a colour scheme and then assign different people different colours. I also plan which poses I'm going to do, which for the main couples is a lot since they have a lot of posts for their weddings. For side characters that only get one post for their weddings I'll usually do a whole photoshoot then just pick two or three pictures to post.

One thing that also helped was me putting them in categories like 'heir' 'part heir' or 'side character', that helps me prioritise whose stories to focus on and how much they'll be seen on the blog. Honestly speaking, there are some sims that I only interact with when it's time to include them in a storyline, for that I let the Neighbourhood Stories take over and check in from time to time when I need to add a kid to the family or dress them for events. Since I have two saves, what I've found myself doing is playing with the side characters in the 'picture save' so I don't lose any game time that I could be using to play with the main characters in the main save. For rotational gameplay in order to make posts, I select certain narrators and basically just rotate between them with select characters sometimes getting a post or two. For this generation I've got Adalynn, Valentina, Lana, Maggie, and Brittany as narrators (there may be more, but for now I'm sticking with these). With Lana marrying into Adalynn's family I'm experimenting with her showing us what life is like for those in Newcrest since Adalynn moved away from home when she got married. Right now I see her as an opportunity to include more side characters since she's married to the 12th child in a cohort of 13, so her experiences and interpersonal relationships will be different than the older siblings and we may see more other character involvement . Maggie and Brittany are seldom narrators, with Brittany only really showing up at Harvestfest to do her family catch up - though I'm also experimenting how to bring them into the plot a bit more because they bring the political drama.

Since pregnancy is involves the changing of time and seasons (and I play on a 4 day = 1 year system vs the game's 28 day year), I make very good use of MCCC and pause pregnancies so that I can have control of how they're documented. The way pregnancies will be documented depends on how I've labelled the characters, narrators will always have more focus on their pregnancies (even though Valentina is done having children she'll narrate the pregnancies in her family) and will share about other pregnancies in the family. Circling back round to the 2 game system, since the way I play is faster than the game's passage of time, once I'm done posing and taking screenshots in my picture save then I usually sit back and actually enjoy playing in the actual game save, where I will then rotate households depending on whatever mood I'm in.

Thank you again for being so nice! I hope this extendo reply is able to answer some of your questions, but if it doesn't then feel free to message me and I can see if I can help.

[there-must-be-a-lock]

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them. (jason!)

🥺 — Aw man, yes. Any moment where a character expects rejection and gets softness instead tbh. When they admit something they’ve been scared to admit and the other person *doesn’t* look at them like they’re a monster. When they find the courage to be a little bit more themselves because they start to trust the people around them to stick around.

Also, any moment where a formerly-depressed or hopeless character realizes that they’re happy to be alive. That’s the good shit.

🧠 — idek where to start, I’m just gonna throw a bunch out there.

Not sure I can count this as a headcanon when it’s more like the thesis of most of my Jason-centric fics? But pre-death he never got much experience with sex that wasn’t transactional and performative, if not outright coerced, and he has a really complicated relationship with the entire concept of consent and agency and feeling the need to please.

He uses tattoos and piercings as a way of reclaiming and reconnecting with his body when he comes back.

His favorite band is MCR, and when he was a kid it was in a very sulky edgy teenage way, but then he gets older and the concepts of Revenge and Black Parade hit almost too close to home. See also: “how wrong we were to think that immortality meant never dying.”

It takes him a while to figure out how to be comfortable in his home and how to make it his own, once he settles down and stops moving from safehouse to safehouse all the time; he’s got a lot of hang-ups about spending money on himself and about putting down roots, but once he gets there he loves nesting.

His love languages are acts of service and words of affirmation. @noxnthea and I had a whole talk about this when we were writing the Marshmallows, especially his birthday fic! He’s so used to taking care of himself that he’d be beyond touched by anybody taking the time to do things for him — it’s one of my favorite dynamics with him and Slade, because Slade is the kind of person who could gently bully him into allowing himself to be taken care of. And then as far as words, he’s really bad at saying stuff out loud (obviously) but with the right person/people, those rare occasions when he could make himself say it out loud would be treasured and encouraged… and he also puts a whole lot of stock in written words, because lit nerd. I think he’d be the kind of person who would absolutely swoon over a good old-fashioned love letter. Nox and I came up with this idea of him sorta borrowing romantic quotes and lyrics to start with, copying them on post-it’s and leaving them around the apartment or whatever, and then as he started to get more comfortable (and when he could trust that his vulnerability wouldn’t be shot down) he started writing his own words instead. Like all those books were practice.

(Writer asks!)

[cowboylikedean]

my preliminary track by track

Lavender Haze: Not what I thought it would be, but somehow better??? she mentioned the engagement rumors!!! also like..... the chorus is so bouncy and I love it so much. It gives off nyd vibes to me in that I think this song is like a promise of commitment

Maroon: my first thought on my first listen was "is this a haylor song???? and then when she said "that's a fucking legacy" i was like "AHHHH” now though, I think it’s about Karlie. Whoever it’s about, I think it’s beautiful. When we got the title, my first thought was “Red but darker” and I still think that… it’s like… dirty red. and I need to flesh that out more, but I’m spending time with other songs and I’ll get back to Maroon.

Anti-Hero: I CRIED LIKE A BABYthe chorus, introducing herself as the problem!!! then oh my god calling her depression by its name!!!, daughter in law was interesting to me too.... the implication she would have a kid also its a fucking bop that made me want to die. It still does. Its so relatable and honest and genuine and I would die for her. 

Snow on the Beach: the sweetest thing i’ve ever heard, that second verse transcends language. 

You’re on Your Own Kid: To me, this song is about celebrating choices. it’s knowing you made your own choices, and no one made them for you. It’s knowing you’ll make your own choices again. And it’s learning to trust yourself and your choices. The uplifting way the end happens and everything swells… I just think it’s like…….. about growing into trusting yourself and I have a lot I want to dive into about it being track 5 specifically that I haven’t had the time to. but my first thoughts are that it’s track 5 because the thesis of this album is about choices

Midnight Rain: This is my favorite song after anti-hero. I love the alterations on her voice but also “I wanted that pain” is a lyric that will haunt me forever. But more than anything, this song really fleshed out the ttds/dorthea story and that contextualizes a lot of evermore for me. i think there’s so much to be said about her relationship with fame and her choices around that, which ties into yoyok. I just think this song provides rich context to her life and also normalizes her fame while discussing its abnormality. I have so much I could say

Question…?: Obvious haylor song that makes me endlessly happy to hear it. It’s remarkable to me that the haylor song Taylor writes looking back years later still doesn’t have any closure. and then she opens up the idea that everyone is second best in comparison to her for him and i just have so many feelings and most of it is just like KJAKLDJFLK THIS WOMAN WILL NOT LET THIS MAN JUST LIVE like she really was like “hey…. i’m the love of your life and you can’t have me…. KK BYE” like lol and she knows what she’s doing which is why she’s like “it’s just a question” like yeah it’s just a question that’s unnecessary!!! anyway, i’m glad she made the decision to poke that particular bear because i love hearing them write about each other. i hope he responds.

Vigilante Shit: She came for Scooter’s jugular. Anyway, I love this song. It’s so different from anything else she’s done and yet is 100% the same as mad woman and no body no crime. I haven’t spent the time with it I would need to spend to have more thoughts

Bejeweled: My first thought was that this is about Calvin or Jake. But the more I listen to it, the more it feels almost like she’s personified her depression and is singing to it. I LOVE the “i can still make the whole place SHIMMER” “I can still say I don’t REMEMBER” like it just sounds SO good!! I think this is going to be a song I use to personify my depression, whether that’s what she was doing or not. 

Labyrinth: I need the lyrics in front of me and more time to feel this song the way I need to feel it…. But this THIS  this…………. it’s the process of the healing she has been singing about the whole time… Daylight/the whole rep album/evermore. I can’t wait to listen to this in the middle of a breakdown and feel completely understood and have a direction. and that production on her vocals from midnight rain!! i love it!! also its soakljalkjlk the way it swells at the end and gets progressively lighter and happier…. IT’S ABOUT THE HEALING JOURNEY 

Karma: I know that reddit hates the playful lyrics but i lOVE THEM!! “Karma is a cat purring on my lap cause it loves me” I NEED HER TO KNOW THAT THIS IS THE MOST INCREDIBLE THING I’VE HEARD!! It gives me the playful freedom/I’m moving on vibes that ibytam gives. And coming right after labyrinth… the two of these songs work in tandem to me. It’s about healing. I love this song

Sweet Nothings: I am so glad that it really is a love song about them they wrote together. “You say what a mind/this happens all the time” I love that! I’m going need a lot more time with it before I have more complex thoughts especially about “to you I can admit that I’m just too soft for all of it” 

Mastermind: KLSJADFLKJASDKLF COWBOY LIKE ME HAS ITS MOMENT IN THE SUN I, again need to spend more time with it before I have more complex words… but it really feels, again like it’s about choices. She made the choices that led her here with Joe and she planned to love him forever. She saw him that first night she came home and wrote the barebones of Gorgeous (and the fucking reference!!!!JKljdlaskfjlkI CAN’T) and every choice after that made this all possible. And he made choices too and it made all of it happen. “No one wanted to play with me as a little kid” I WANT TO DIE and this song is just kjsadlfkjkl I don’t have the words. I just get overwhelmed with this song. I need more time before I can get it together lol

[lochsides]

Midnights review

MEET ME AT MIDNIGHT

It’s that time again. The Midnights release is upon us and I have thoughts so you must hear them. I truly and firmly believe that Midnights is Taylor at her best (even though its not my favourite Taylor album). She has really shown a mastery over her craft on this album. Midnights is sonically cohesive with a distinct production pattern that enhances the overall atmosphere and realm in which the album exists. Many times while writing notes for this review did I write “this sounds like a Midnights song.” That’s what I mean when I say an album has its own sound, as this one does. So all the success it has already garnered is really no surprise at all.

Taylor said in her Instagram post that Midnights is a concept album, and the thread that ties these songs together is the fact that these are Taylor’s late night musings. We can see recurring themes of Taylor’s relationship with fame, love, her desire to be liked and to belong. I think there is a certain amount of obessions explored on this album, which is perfect for its thesis statement of “13 sleepless nights scattered throughout [her] life.” I am so happy we live in an era where Taylor Swift makes new music and the world celebrates it. I’ve been talking to friends and family about the album and have not heard a single person say they don’t like it.

My favourite tracks are Maroon, (and then in no particular order…) Bigger Than The Whole Sky, You’re On Your Own, Kid, Snow On The Beach, Midnight Rain, Would’ve, Could’ve Should’ve, and Labyrinth.

13 SLEEPLESS NIGHTS

Lavender Haze — Not sure why, but Lavender Haze was not at all what I expected. That said, I think Lavender Haze does an amazing job of setting expectations for the rest of the album in terms of the sound of Midnights and the themes explored on this album. In particular, the dichotomy of Taylor and her fame is explored over and over throughout the album.

Maroon — I haven’t seen much said about Maroon, which saddens me becuase this is my initial favourite from the ‘magic 13’ (in Taylor’s own words). I am absolutely obsessed with the production and cadance of this song. Maroon features Taylor’s characteristic storytelling lyricism beautifully. I could picture every word as she sung it playing out like a movie in my head. This song feels like a grown up RED song in so many ways aside from the title. I might do a post all about this so we’ll leave that for that. But this song lives rent free in my mind, constantly.

Anti-Hero — Let’s talk about how Anti-Hero is absolutely perfect lead single material. The witty but vulnerable lyricism, the tone of the song, the production pattern all set the scene of this album to someone entering it through this point. I think within the context of this song being about how her life has taken on this magnitude that she struggles to feel like a person, “I’m the problem, it’s me” is so sad because that was the general public’s ammunition against her for so long. Her assigning that “I’m the problem” part of herself to her public persona in the video is genius.

Snow On The Beach — Snow On The Beach sounds as pretty as it’s title suggests. “Stars by the pocketful” has to be one of the most beautiful uses of imagery to describe emotion ever. I love the lyricism on this track and the gorgeous production choices they took with it. It all served to elevate the magical feeling of realising someone is falling for you as you’re falling for them. I also love the lyric “its fine to fake it ‘til you make it, ‘til you do, ‘til its true.” I think that so perfectly captures that feeling of being “unglued” because you no longer know what to expect.

You’re On Your Own, Kid — Surprise, surprise, a track five that hurt my feelings. You’re On Your Own, Kid tells the tale of a desire to belong and to be loved, going to every length to achieve that and falling short of it every time. Was it fair of her to release this song as I’m actively dismantling my own belief system around being liked in therapy? Absolutely not. Will I have this song on repeat after every session for the foreseeable future? Yeah… Also we need to shout out that incredible production and the way it builds and builds towards the latter part of the song chef’s kiss!! I think every time I play You’re On Your Own, Kid, I fall more in love with it.

Midnight Rain — This was the first track to get stuck in my head, it’s so catchy but I love how understated it is. I love that chorus line so much, from lyric to production to the choice of the synthesizer. It’s a very experimental style for Taylor but worked so well. The way she framed the story of ‘we want different things’ in Midnight Rain is a universal experience retold. We’ve all been there, reflecting on people who we’ve left behind. I also think this song is very interesting in that, Taylor is self-proclaimed romantic and yet this entire song is about her rejecting romance for ambition. I love the way she did this becuase I really fucking feel this.

Question…? — I’ll be honest, Question…? isn’t really for me. Like, it’s fine but it’s just fine. The production for this song is very up and down for me. The first half of the song is just whatever, the second and final chorus are great, but I really don’t like the sonic structure of the bridge at all. Lyrically speaking, I interpretted this song as overthinking given form. Which is clever, given the concept of staying up in the middle of the night because we are all prone to overthinking late at night.

Vigilante Shit — This is Taylor’s bad bitch anthem. Vigilante Shit has big reputation vibes with that heavy bass, those synths and of course, the theme of revenge. Revenge feeds into the concept of the album about her late night obsessions perfectly. The way I interpret the lyric “lately I’ve been dressing for revenge” is as getting ready to exact her vengeance. Its not about the physical act of getting dressed alone, but entering that obessive state of mind that her rage takes her to. Also, I think the lyric “I don’t start shit but I can tell you how it ends” is so clever in its double meaning: a threat and her past experiences of people who’ve done her wrong getting their just desserts.

Bejewled — I love the energy of this song, the theme of contemptuously recognising your own worth. But unfortunately that’s where I tap out. It’s a song that I’m really on the fence about. I don’t really care for it either way. Bejewled probably takes last place in my ranking. I don’t actaully dislike it though, I’m just in different to it. So that tells you just how good I think this album is.

Labyrinth — Does this dreamy, otherworldly production remind anyone else of if The Archer and epiphany had a baby? Labyrinth snuck up on me. I liked it on the first listen but I didn’t expect to be absolutely obsessed with it the way that I am. I love it so fucking much. The way the chorus goes from ‘uh-oh’ to ‘oh no’ to ‘oh!’ and the different feelings that accompany the recognition of falling in love after you’ve just falling apart in a way you didn’t know you could even recover from, never mind so soon, is nothing short of genius. I also love the outro with the layered vocals and the synthesizer. Jack Antonoff really did something with this production.

Karma — Big ‘the universe conspires in my favour’ energy on this track. Karma is a really fun, upbeat song, which was not what I expected at all for this one. I was thinking more dark, heavy sounds instead of the lightheartedness that we got in its place. Karma, as a concept, is something that Taylor has been fascinated with for a very long time. I like this take of it as something that’s got her back, instead of something vengeful to unleash on those who’ve done her wrong.

Sweet Nothing — The piano melody on Sweet Nothing sounds like the most beautiful lullaby. This song is oh-so heart-wrenchingly pretty. I love the the way this entire song is about the simplicity of real love and paired with such elegant and refine production. Real love demands nothing but love in return, “all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing.” It’s that simple. It can be that easy. My heart was so full listening to this. Sweet Nothing felt like a warm hug from a loved one, perfectly placed towards the end of an album dissecting her relationship with her fame, her fears, and all the parts of her past that she revisits from time to time. In the end, it all comes back to her present and “running home to [his] sweet nothings.”

Mastermind — I’ll be honest, I haven’t listen to Mastermind as much as a few of the other songs on this album. I have no problem with it. It’s just placed between two songs that I really adore (on to the 3 am tracks), I sometimes just end up skipping it just becuase I want to listen to the next track. But we’ll talk about that in a minute. Mastermind, I really do enjoy the production of it, but I’m not the biggest fan of the melody. I love the way Taylor takes a moment to tocuh on the paitriarchical structure of love and how women “were born to be the pawn in every lover’s game.” Also I hate her for the lyric “no one wanted to play with me as a little kid, so I’ve been scheming like a criminal ever since, to make them love me and make it seem effortless.” On the surface, Mastermind is about ensuring you end up with the person you like. But paying even a little bit of proper attention to the lyrics will tell you that there is a lot of insecurity in this song.

3AM THOUGHTS

The Great War — The Great War is just Afterglow (Midnights Version). No wonder its such a superior song. I love this track so much. I don’t know what kind of drugs Aaron Dessner laced this production with, but it hits. The cadance on the chorus is so dynamic. I love the way she uses war imagery to emphasise that this wasn’t just a fight, it could’ve been the fight. But “my hand was the one you reached for, all throughout the great war” says it all. Even in the worst of moments, he was still choosing her. Definitely a top 5 track for me.

Bigger Than The Whole Sky — Another early favourite of mine. The concept of it reminded me of the 1, but sadder. When she sung “I’ve got a lot to pine about, I’ve got a lot to live without. I’m never gonna meet what could’ve been, would’ve been, what should’ve been you,” OUCH! I love how breathy her vocal is and how light and airy the production is, adding to effect of the title. I’m obsessed with the idea of the one that got away, or love lost in someway that feels fleeting. I think that loss feels heavy because of all the lost potential that goes with the person.

Paris — I don’t know how else to describe the production of Paris other than, it’s very Midnights. That beat fits so prefectly within the sonic realm of this album. Lyrically speaking though, its giving big Lover energy. Paris is a fun, different side to the narrative of staying up all night.

High Infidelity — Oooh, this song!!! I think that says it all, iykyk. My favourite part of High Infidelity is when she sings “high infidelity” in that elongated melody. Very classic pop Taylor sound that never fails. Obviously the song is about a relationship that was draining the life out of her and meeting someone else during that time that made her feel again. I think the whole verse of “storm coming, good husband, bad omen, dragged my feet right down the ailse” speaks to me so much. Also “your picked fence is sharp as knives” is one of my favourite lyrics she’s written. All of it talks about how this seemingly perfect looking love was a cage, a prison of sorts.

Glitch — Taylor said ‘real love? sounds fake’. What I really enjoy about Glitch is that the song sounds like a glitch when they switch up the production on the chorus. I love things like that in music. This is a song about a relationship that by all accounts really shouldn’t have happened or lasted but it did. And there are themes of doubt, desperation and desire strung through the lyrics.

Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve — Oh I could write a whole essay about my thoughts on this song (and I might yet). For the purposes of this review, I’ll keep it short and free of speculation. Let’s start with how this production gave me chills! There is this brilliant chaotic energy underlying in it that perfectly captures the feeling of being in the type of relationship Taylor discusses. Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve is a reflection of a formative relationship. I think listening to Taylor scream “give me back my girlhood, it was mine first” collectively fucked us all up. It must be an absolutely bewildering feeling to actually reach the age her ex was when he dated her at 19 and being able to recognise how messed up that situation was. My heart breaks for her when she sings “I miss who I used to be.” There is a real sense of loss, regret and mourning that is taking place even 13 years after the fact. If that doesn’t tell you how much this relationship harmed her, I have nothing left to say. The songwriting on this track is just completely off the radar.

Dear Reader — I haven’t been able to stop thinking about “you should find another guiding light but i shine so bright.” The perfect closing point to the album through lyrical and production perspectives. Also I love the unreliable narrator energy Dear Reader has. She gives advice that she warns the reader not to take because she’s falling apart. The bridge and outro are absolute perfection. Every time she and Jack have used a synthesizer on this album, it’s worked so fucking well in enhancing the effect of the song.

BONUS ROUND...

Hits Different — This one sounds so different to other tracks on Midnights. I love the guitar guiding the whole song. Her vocals are so smooth on the verse. Hits Different is the aftermath of a painful breakup, the going back over every detail in the bridge, the cursing out love in the chorus, the “my sadness is contagious”, the “catastrophoic blues.” It’s the late night depression of the grief cycle. I have to shoutout one of my favourite lyrics from the whole of the Midnights era too, “argumentative, antithetical dream girl.” I enjoyed this as a bonus track, but I don’t really feel its loss on the streaming versions of Midnights the way I would some of the 3 am tracks.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Thunder In Our Hearts (Part 11)

Summary: A week after the kids were taken and brought back home, Ben shares one last secret about himself with the reader...

Masterlist

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x reader

Word Count: 1,500ish

Warnings: language, nudity, violence, drug/abuse/sexual assault/torture mentions

A/N: Spoilers for Season 3 of The Boys! Ah, I’ve adored writing Soldier Boy and this series! While it’s time for this one to come to an end, I’d love to return to Soldier Boy again and even this story in the future!…

__________

“Man, can you believe Homelander destroyed Vought Tower? The man’s a fucking psychopath,” said Joe. You hummed, watching behind your sunglasses as Benjy and Millie used their father as a playground, Brian and Joe’s recently adopted toddler joining in with them. “I’m glad Soldier Boy was able to stop him. Can’t believe Homelander gaslit everyone into thinking he was behind all that shit.”

“I thought we agreed not to bring that up Joesph,” said Brian, stepping away from the grill and over with a cold beer. You raised an eyebrow, peering around him at the other people milling about at the backyard party. 

“What? The whole we know Ben is Soldier Boy thing?” You choked on your drink, Brian whacking your back until you were through coughing. “I didn’t realize it was a secret.”

“Of course it’s a secret! Otherwise Ben and Y/N would have told us,” said Brian with a roll of his eyes. “Sorry Y/N but I knew who Ben was the second I fucking met him. I did a thesis on him in college. Then all the questions over the years about being in the service and combat but he didn’t know basic stuff. It wasn’t hard to put together.”

You swallowed, lifting your shades. “If you know who he is…” 

“Why would I pretend I didn’t? Even when I knew all the fucked up shit he did back in the day? Easy. If you don’t give people a chance to change their stereotypes, how can you expect them to grow? I know you get that. You gave him a chance after all.” You closed your eyes, smiling to yourself. “We approve of him, Y/N. This isn’t a grand plan to expose him or anything. When I say the man’s my best friend, I’m not lying.”

“We won’t say anything to Ben though. We wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable,” said Joe.

“I appreciate that,” you said with a laugh. “But Ben has pretty good hearing. Like hear through the walls kind of good. He just heard our entire conversation.”

They whipped their heads over to where Ben was playing with the kids, the biggest fucking smile on his face as he laughed and gave us a wave.

“Fuck. So he heard us that time we were talking about how nice his ass looked in those jeans?” asked Joe.

“Yup. We were cracking up the whole way home.” Joe groaned as you chuckled, Brian whacking his shoulder.

“I thought you guys were talking about my ass that night,” he said. 

“Honey, you both have wonderful asses, how about that?” he chuckled. 

“Just for that, I’m putting hot peppers on your burger,” said Brian walking away, Joe racing after him. You giggled and went out to the yard, getting stopped a few times before you were able to see Ben trade off playing duties with about eight different kids with another dad.

“Escape the hoard?” you teased when he stole your beer and threw his arm over your shoulders dramatically.

“The ruskies could learn something about interrogation from those kiddos,” he chuckled, Millie running over with her finger pointed up, a drop of blood on it. “Oh no. What happened here?”

“I don’t know. Can you kiss it better?” she asked. 

“Absolutely,” he said, scooping her up and heading back towards the house, handing you back the beer as you went. “Be right back, kiddo.”

“Kiddo?” asked Ben that night when you were back at home. The kids were fast asleep, you and Ben sat out on the patio next to the fire pit, sharing the oversized chair he’d been so excited to get on sale last month. 

“Old man,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Notice anything different about me lately?” 

“Oh the fact you lost your powers in the past week? Never noticed,” you chuckled. His arm around your waist tightened. It felt nice but it lacked that threat of bone snapping ability it always had before.

“You’re not mad I made that executive decision on my own?” he asked. 

“It’s your body, your choice. Was it drugs that did it? Or was the blast at the tower too powerful?” you asked.

“When I went in and destroyed the Compound V, I found the anti-V. Apparently they developed it when Homelander became a big risk. I swiped it and gave it to Mallory. They’re going to give it to him and take away the risk of him ever waking up. Maybe we can get rid of powers in the first place too,” he said. 

“When’d you take it?” you asked.

“Before I met up with you guys at the motel. I wasn’t sure if it’d kill me cause I’m technically an old man,” he chuckled. “Turns out I have the body of a healthy forty five year old so you’re stuck with me for a while.”

“Sick of the powers?” 

“I had fears about the potential radiation, even if Mallory said it was harmless. Mostly I want to grow old with you and not outlive our kids. No amount of torture could be worse than losing all of you.” You titled your head up in time for Ben to rest his cheek against your forehead, a happy little smile on his face. “Still want me kiddo?”

“Yup,” you hummed, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Still want you, old man.”

“I was thinking we clear out some of the trees off to the side there, expand the house. Throw in a bedroom or two, a playroom. What do you think?” You grinned sitting upright. Ben pulled you to sit in his lap, bumping his nose against yours. “We’re safe and there’s zero chance this child would be a supe. What do you think?”

“I think you love being a daddy,” you said. You kissed him quickly, giggling to yourself. “As long as it’s not twins this time then I am all for having another.”

“Millie and Benjy will be good big siblings,” he said. He stroked a finger lazily up and down your arm, humming to himself. “I love you so fucking much, Y/N. I will never be able to show you how grateful I am that you saved me. Were patient with me. I know I’m not perfect. I’ll never be that. But for the first time, I have a family that’s proud of me and loves me. Whatever you want, it’s yours. Just ask and it’s yours.”

You pursed your lips as if in deep thought. “Well, I would like something.”

“Name it,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “Anything at all.”

“It’s a big ask.” He just shook his head, still wearing a smile. “Alright then. I would like…a kiss.”

“A kiss?” 

“Yup. A big ole, sweep me off my feet kiss,” you said. He chuckled, leaning down and smirking. “What are-”

He planted a big, fat, rough kiss on your lips, gripping your tight as he stole your breath away. 

“You’re so easy to please,” he laughed when you needed air, his hot breath fanning over your face. “Damn I love you.”

“I love you too, Benjamin,” you said, hugging him, inhaling the scent of his fading cologne mixed with campfire. “Want to go make that baby?”

“In a minute, kiddo. I want to sit out here with you for a little while.”

“Who said we have to go inside to make the baby?” you teased. He raised his eyebrows, a big smile growing on his face. “I’m pretty sure the twins were made down by the dock if I recall correctly.”

“I ever mention how much I adore you?” he laughed, squeezing your hips gently.

“Doesn’t hurt to be reminded,” you said. He nuzzled under your jaw, kissing your pulse point as you shuddered. “Old man?”

“Yeah kiddo?”

“I know…you saved me too. I was so angry and scared when we met and you are the kindest man I could ever have hoped for. I wanted you to know that.” He closed his eyes, letting his head rest on your shoulder. You ran your fingers through his strands, Ben curling into the touch. “Was it worth waiting for me? Because I know it was waiting to find you.”

He raised his head, eyes glimmering as he smiled. “You were worth every second. Maybe I had to wait longer than I would have liked, than most, but I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I’d do it all again because you’re my girl and she’s amazingly mine.” He kissed you gently, sweetly, the loving, kind Ben you’d fallen in love with on full display tonight. “And I’m hers and there’s nothing I’d do to change that.”

“Sweet-talking old man,” you teased.

“You kids with your internet and made up words,” he laughed right back. He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, kissing you once more. “Love you Y/N.”

“Love you too, Soldier Boy.”

___________

A/N: Read the He Knows Timestamp here!

[deadboyfriendd]

I have this silly little time traveler!reader AU in my brain and I think that Eddie could not handle it. For reference, TT!Reader is from our time and got shot back to the 80s unexpectedly. This is also assuming that the whole time paradox thing and serious implications of time travel don’t apply here.

Eddie tries so so hard to teach her how to drive stick. He’s also mean about it and you and Eddie end up wanting to strangle each other after you stall his van for a third time.

I’m sorry but I was born in the era where VHS tapes were being phased out and I had more DVDs than VHS’s. I can imagine Eddie handing you one and telling you to rewind it and getting absolutely flabbergasted when you look at it confusedly.

He is equally as confused when he asks you about your Walkman and you just hold up your lil iPhone with your AirPods in. He thinks you came straight out of an episode of The Jetsons and cannot fathom how Bluetooth works. You then have to explain to him that you can also use the internet and it sparks a whole conversation about the societal impact of social media and you basically have to do an in-depth thesis about modern life to him. (I’m also aware that there’s no cell towers yet so nothing would probably work but he’d be like a baby with an iPad. Just so intrigued that it can scan your face and that you can TOUCH GLASS AND MANIPULATE IT LIKE WITCHCRAFT)

Sorry but I don’t think anyone from Gen Z would be all that phased by anything happening in the upside down. We’ve lived through several major historical events in our lifetime and an alternate dimension isn’t even that scary.

What would be scary, however, is his reaction when you explain the state of the world today and “HOW can people just leave their kids unattended to run amuck around town with no means of communication?”

Arguing with Eddie about metal would be absolutely hilarious though. Like just getting on his nerves like, “You think Dio is hard? Wait a couple years. You get Cannibal Corpse.” And he goes absolutely nuts.

In the same turn, you would also get under his skin by arguing which album is better. “The Master of Puppets album is the best album yet” he would say, to which you reply, “I don’t know… Garage Inc. was a pretty solid one” and he would stomp and do his shimmy and throw his tantrum because “IT DOESN'T COUNT IF IT'S NOT OUT YET.”

Arguing with Eddie about what music to play and he calls your music stupid and just tearing him apart by calling Metallica “divorced dad rock”.

Constantly having to remind him that you’re not from that far into the future and his belongings are not ancient relics and you’re not entirely clueless about life in the 80s. He’s genuinely surprised you understand his music and pop culture references.

Dropping cryptic little tidbits just to freak him out, like watching something devastating on the news channel and going, “hm. Bradbury was right.” And going about your day while him and Wayne look at each other in the most terrified way possible.

Being CONSTANTLY bombarded with questions from the entire group. You feel like a human history book most of the time. Eddie almost has to drag Dustin away from you. “Yes DnD is still a thing. They have a classroom curriculum for it now.” “Yes I’ve heard of LOTR. There’s movies now.” “All of the drugs Ozzy did are catching up to him now.” “If you think an Atari is cool just wait until you see an oculus”

No one understand a singular vine or tiktok reference ever. “What do you mean they were roommates?” “Wait you took HOW MUCH Adderall?”

I 100% have a lot more to this and maladaptive daydream to this scenario constantly. If this does well I’ll probably write more about it.

[bao3bei4]

fan language: the victorian imaginary and cnovel fandom

there’s this pinterest image i’ve seen circulating a lot in the past year i’ve been on fandom social media. it’s a drawn infographic of a, i guess, asian-looking woman holding a fan in different places relative to her face to show what the graphic helpfully calls “the language of the fan.”

people like sharing it. they like thinking about what nefarious ancient chinese hanky code shenanigans their favorite fan-toting character might get up to⁠—accidentally or on purpose. and what’s the problem with that?

the problem is that fan language isn’t chinese. it’s victorian. and even then, it’s not really quite victorian at all. 

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

fans served a primarily utilitarian purpose throughout chinese history. of course, most of the surviving fans we see⁠—and the types of fans we tend to care about⁠—are closer to art pieces. but realistically speaking, the majority of fans were made of cheaper material for more mundane purposes. in china, just like all around the world, people fanned themselves. it got hot!

so here’s a big tipoff. it would be very difficult to use a fan if you had an elaborate language centered around fanning yourself.

you might argue that fine, everyday working people didn’t have a fan language. but wealthy people might have had one. the problem we encounter here is that fans weren’t really gendered. (caveat here that certain types of fans were more popular with women. however, those tended to be the round silk fans, ones that bear no resemblance to the folding fans in the graphic). no disrespect to the gnc old man fuckers in the crowd, but this language isn’t quite masc enough for a tool that someone’s dad might regularly use.

folding fans, we know, reached europe in the 17th century and gained immense popularity in the 18th. it was there that fans began to take on a gendered quality. ariel beaujot describes in their 2012 victorian fashion accessories how middle class women, in the midst of a top shortage, found themselves clutching fans in hopes of securing a husband.

she quotes an article from the illustrated london news, suggesting “women ‘not only’ used fans to ‘move the air and cool themselves but also to express their sentiments.’” general wisdom was that the movement of the fan was sufficiently expressive that it augmented a woman’s displays of emotion. and of course, the more english audiences became aware that it might do so, the more they might use their fans purposefully in that way.

notice, however, that this is no more codified than body language in general is. it turns out that “the language of the fan” was actually created by fan manufacturers at the turn of the 20th century⁠—hundreds of years after their arrival⁠ in europe—to sell more fans. i’m not even kidding right now. the story goes that it was louis duvelleroy of the maison duvelleroy who decided to include pamphlets on the language with each fan sold.

interestingly enough, beaujot suggests that it didn’t really matter what each particular fan sign meant. gentlemen could tell when they were being flirted with. as it happens, meaningful eye contact and a light flutter near the face may be a lingua franca.

so it seems then, the language of the fan is merely part of this victorian imaginary we collectively have today, which in turn itself was itself captivated by china.

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

victorian references come up perhaps unexpectedly often in cnovel fandom, most often with regards to modesty.

it’s a bit of an awkward reference considering that chinese traditional fashion⁠—and the ambiguous time periods in which these novels are set⁠—far predate victorian england. it is even more awkward considering that victoria and her covered ankles did um. imperialize china.

but nonetheless, it is common. and to make a point about how ubiquitous it is, here is a link to the twitter search for “sqq victorian.” sqq is the fandom abbreviation for shen qingqiu, the main character of the scum villain’s self-saving system, by the way.

this is an awful lot of results for a search involving a chinese man who spends the entire novel in either real modern-day china or fantasy ancient china. that’s all i’m going to say on the matter, without referencing any specific tweet.

i think people are aware of the anachronism. and i think they don’t mind. even the most cursory research reveals that fan language is european and a revisionist fantasy. wikipedia can tell us this⁠—i checked!

but it doesn’t matter to me whether people are trying to make an internally consistent canon compliant claim, or whether they’re just free associating between fan facts they know. it is, instead, more interesting to me that people consistently refer to this particular bit of history. and that’s what i want to talk about today⁠—the relationship of fandom today to this two hundred odd year span of time in england (roughly stuart to victorian times) and england in that time period to its contemporaneous china.

things will slip a little here. victorian has expanded in timeframe, if only because random guys posting online do not care overly much for respect for the intricacies of british history. china has expanded in geographic location, if only because the english of the time themselves conflated china with all of asia.

in addition, note that i am critiquing a certain perspective on the topic. this is why i write about fan as white here⁠—not because all fans are white⁠—but because the tendencies i’m examining have a clear historical antecedent in whiteness that shapes how white fans encounter these novels.

i’m sure some fans of color participate in these practices. however i don’t really care about that. they are not its main perpetrators nor its main beneficiaries. so personally i am minding my own business on that front.

it’s instead important to me to illuminate the linkage between white as subject and chinese as object in history and in the present that i do argue that fannish products today are built upon.

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

it’s not radical, or even new at all, for white audiences to consume⁠—or create their own versions of⁠—chinese art en masse. in many ways the white creators who appear to owe their whole style and aesthetic to their asian peers in turn are just the new chinoiserie.

this is not to say that white people can’t create asian-inspired art. but rather, i am asking you to sit with the discomfort that you may not like the artistic company you keep in the broader view of history, and to consider together what is to be done about that.

now, when i say the new chinoiserie, i first want to establish what the original one is. chinoiserie was a european artistic movement that appeared coincident with the rise in popularity of folding fans that i described above. this is not by coincidence; the european demand for asian imports and the eventual production of lookalikes is the movement itself. so: when we talk about fans, when we talk about china (porcelain), when we talk about tea in england⁠—we are talking about the legacy of chinoiserie.

there are a couple things i want to note here. while english people as a whole had a very tenuous knowledge of what china might be, their appetites for chinoiserie were roughly coincident with national relations with china. as the relationship between england and china moved from trade to out-and-out wars, chinoiserie declined in popularity until china had been safely subjugated once more by the end of the 19th century.

the second thing i want to note on the subject that contrary to what one might think at first, the appeal of chinoiserie was not that it was foreign. eugenia zuroski’s 2013 taste for china examines 18th century english literature and its descriptions of the according material culture with the lens that chinese imports might be formative to english identity, rather than antithetical to it.

beyond that bare thesis, i think it’s also worthwhile to extend her insight that material objects become animated by the literary viewpoints on them. this is true, both in a limited general sense as well as in the sense that english thinkers of the time self-consciously articulated this viewpoint. consider the quote from the illustrated london news above⁠—your fan, that object, says something about you. and not only that, but the objects you surround yourself with ought to.

it’s a bit circular, the idea that written material says that you should allow written material to shape your understanding of physical objects. but it’s both 1) what happened, and 2) integral, i think, to integrating a fannish perspective into the topic.

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

japanning is the name for the popular imitative lacquering that english craftspeople developed in domestic response to the demand for lacquerware imports. in the eighteenth century, japanning became an artform especially suited for young women. manuals were published on the subject, urging young women to learn how to paint furniture and other surfaces, encouraging them to rework the designs provided in the text.

it was considered a beneficial activity for them; zuroski describes how it was “associated with commerce and connoisseurship, practical skill and aesthetic judgment.” a skillful japanner, rather than simply obscuring what lay underneath the lacquer, displayed their superior judgment in how they chose to arrange these new canonical figures and effects in a tasteful way to bring out the best qualities of them.

zuroski quotes the first english-language manual on the subject, written in 1688, which explains how japanning allows one to:

alter and correct, take out a piece from one, add a fragment to the next, and make an entire garment compleat in all its parts, though tis wrought out of never so many disagreeing patterns.

this language evokes a very different, very modern practice. it is this english reworking of an asian artform that i think the parallels are most obvious.

white people, through their artistic investment in chinese material objects and aesthetics, integrated them into their own subjectivity. these practices came to say something about the people who participated in them, in a way that had little to do with the country itself. their relationship changed from being a “consumer” of chinese objects to becoming the proprietor of these new aesthetic signifiers.

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

i want to talk about this through a few pairs of tensions on the subject that i think characterize common attitudes then and now.

first, consider the relationship between the self and the other: the chinese object as something that is very familiar to you, speaking to something about your own self vs. the chinese object as something that is fundamentally different from you and unknowable to you. 

consider: [insert character name] is just like me. he would no doubt like the same things i like, consume the same cultural products. we are the same in some meaningful way vs. the fast standard fic disclaimer that “i tried my best when writing this fic, but i’m a english-speaking westerner, and i’m just writing this for fun so...... [excuses and alterations the person has chosen to make in this light],” going hand-in-hand with a preoccupation with authenticity or even overreliance on the unpaid labor of chinese friends and acquaintances. 

consider: hugh honour when he quotes a man from the 1640s claiming “chinoiserie of this even more hybrid kind had become so far removed from genuine Chinese tradition that it was exported from India to China as a novelty to the Chinese themselves” 

these tensions coexist, and look how they have been resolved.

second, consider what we vest in objects themselves: beaujot explains how the fan became a sexualized, coquettish object in the hands of a british woman, but was used to great effect in gilbert and sullivan’s 1885 mikado to demonstrate the docility of asian women. 

consider: these characters became expressions of your sexual desires and fetishes, even as their 5’10 actors themselves are emasculated.

what is liberating for one necessitates the subjugation and fetishization of the other. 

third, consider reactions to the practice: enjoyment of chinese objects as a sign of your cosmopolitan palate vs “so what’s the hype about those ancient chinese gays” pop culture explainers that addressed the unconvinced mainstream.

consider: zuroski describes how both english consumers purchased china in droves, and contemporary publications reported on them. how: 

It was in the pages of these papers that the growing popularity of Chinese things in the early eighteenth century acquired the reputation of a “craze”; they portrayed china fanatics as flawed, fragile, and unreliable characters, and frequently cast chinoiserie itself in the same light.

referenda on fannish behavior serve as referenda on the objects of their devotion, and vice versa. as the difference between identity and fetish collapses, they come to be treated as one and the same by not just participants but their observers. 

at what point does mxtx fic cease to be chinese? 

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

finally, it seems readily apparent that attitudes towards chinese objects may in fact have something to do with attitudes about china as a country. i do not want to suggest that these literary concerns are primarily motivated and begot by forces entirely divorced from the real mechanics of power. 

here, i want to bring in edward said, and his 1993 culture and imperialism. there, he explains how power and legitimacy go hand in hand. one is direct, and one is purely cultural. he originally wrote this in response to the outsize impact that british novelists have had in the maintenance of empire and throughout decolonization. literature, he argues, gives rise to powerful narratives that constrain our ability to think outside of them.

there’s a little bit of an inversion at play here. these are chinese novels, actually. but they’re being transformed by white narratives and artists. and just as i think the form of the novel is important to said’s critique, i think there’s something to be said about the form that fic takes and how it legitimates itself.

bound up in fandom is the idea that you have a right to create and transform as you please. it is a nice idea, but it is one that is directed towards a certain kind of asymmetry. that is, one where the author has all the power. this is the narrative we hear a lot in the history of fandom⁠—litigious authors and plucky fans, fanspaces always under attack from corporate sanitization.

meanwhile, said builds upon raymond schwab’s narrative of cultural exchange between european writers and cultural products outside the imperial core. said explains that fundamental to these two great borrowings (from greek classics and, in the so-called “oriental renaissance” of the late 18th, early 19th centuries from “india, china, japan, persia, and islam”) is asymmetry. 

he had argued prior, in orientalism, that any “cultural exchange” between “partners conscious of inequality” always results in the suffering of the people. and here, he describes how “texts by dead people were read, appreciated, and appropriated” without the presence of any actual living people in that tradition. 

i will not understate that there is a certain economic dynamic complicating this particular fannish asymmetry. mxtx has profited materially from the success of her works, most fans will not. also secondly, mxtx is um. not dead. LMAO.

but first, the international dynamic of extraction that said described is still present. i do not want to get overly into white attitudes towards china in this post, because i am already thoroughly derailed, but i do believe that they structure how white cnovel fandom encounters this texts.

at any rate, any profit she receives is overwhelmingly due to her domestic popularity, not her international popularity. (i say this because many of her international fans have never given her a cent. in fact, most of them have no real way to.) and moreover, as we talk about the structure of english-language fandom, what does it mean to create chinese cultural products without chinese people? 

as white people take ownership over their versions of stories, do we lose something? what narratives about engagement with cnovels might exist outside of the form of classic fandom?

i think a lot of people get the relationship between ideas (the superstructure) and production (the base) confused. oftentimes they will lob in response to criticism, that look! this fic, this fandom, these people are so niche, and so underrepresented in mainstream culture, that their effects are marginal. i am not arguing that anyone’s cql fic causes imperialism. (unless you’re really annoying. then it’s anyone’s game) 

i’m instead arguing something a little bit different. i think, given similar inputs, you tend to get similar outputs. i think we live in the world that imperialism built, and we have clear historical predecessors in terms of white appetites for creating, consuming, and transforming chinese objects. 

we have already seen, in the case of the fan language meme that began this post, that sometimes we even prefer this white chinoiserie. after all, isn’t it beautiful, too? 

i want to bring discomfort to this topic. i want to reject the paradigm of white subject and chinese object; in fact, here in this essay, i have tried to reverse it.

if you are taken aback by the comparisons i make here, how can you make meaningful changes to your fannish practice to address it? 

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

some concluding thoughts on the matter, because i don’t like being misunderstood! 

i am not claiming white fans cannot create fanworks of cnovels or be inspired by asian art or artists. this essay is meant to elaborate on the historical connection between victorian england and cnovel characters and fandom that others have already popularized.

i don’t think people who make victorian jokes are inherently bad or racist. i am encouraging people to think about why we might make them and/or share them

the connections here are meant to be more provocative than strictly literal. (e.g. i don’t literally think writing fanfic is a 1-1 descendant of japanning). these connections are instead meant to 1) make visible the baggage that fans of color often approach fandom with and 2) recontextualize and defamiliarize fannish practice for the purposes of honest critique

please don’t turn this post into being about other different kinds of discourse, or into something that only one “kind” of fan does. please take my words at face value and consider them in good faith. i would really appreciate that.

please feel free to ask me to clarify any statements or supply more in-depth sources :) 

[brawltogethernow]

@mirrorfalls​ submitted: Came across this while searching for James Bond’s scrambled-eggs recipe (long story). Your thoughts?

~~

But did you find James Bond’s scrambled eggs recipe?

In this article, Scocca laments his inability to find accessible, lighthearted superhero comics suitable to read with his young son, while also demonstrating a mysterious aversion to looking at DC and Marvel’s lines of comics for children, which is where the accessible, lighthearted superhero comics suitable for reading with young children are. He wants his elementary schooler to be able to safely have the run of all superhero media so he doesn’t have to touch the yucky baby books.

This is not an industry-wide crisis. This is just one dude who got paid to write an article where he accidentally exposed one of his personal hangups.

The child headed toward the trade paperbacks of Marvel and D.C. superhero titles on the side wall […] a few steps in front of me. […] Is he with you? a clerk asked me. I said he was. You know, the clerk said, we have a kids’ section. The clerk gestured backward, at a few shelves near the entrance. I said, Thanks, we know and tried throwing in a little shrug, as the kid kept going.

You can’t just turn a seven-year-old child loose in a comic-book store to look at the superhero comic books. […] My seven-year-old really wanted to see that last Avengers movie […] that is, he wished it were a movie he could see, but he understood that it was, instead, a movie designed to scare and sadden him—a movie actively hostile to people like him.

They have a children’s section. Because comics are a medium suitable for stories for everybody, and they are sold in comic book shops, which have sections, like bookstores. You can use this organization to find books that you know in advance are suitable for children. What goes in that category is determined by industry professionals. This area will be bigger the bigger the shop is. These comics are not lower quality that titles from the main lines. They are actually slightly better-written on average.

Your local comic book shop has considerately wrapped Empowered in a plastic bag, so your child will not be drawn in by a colorful superhero and accidentally read a graphic scene. If you think your kid might find a memoir about internment camps upsetting, it is your job to notice them picking up They Called Us Enemy and read the blurb on the back before you let them have it. This comic adults are meant to read is in a comic book shop because that is where comics are sold. Not every public place is supposed to be Disneyland.

Movies have ratings systems. If you do not want your child to watch a PG-13 movie, you will find that most superhero cartoons are for children. They are about the same characters. Some are quite good! I really enjoyed Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Your child may like Avengers Assemble. At least I think that’s right. I’m always mixing those titles around.

This is a deeply weird bias for Scocca to casually demonstrate, because he identifies in the article that real childishness is striving for empty maturity.

He compares an old comic,

[…]a 1966 Spider-Man comic in which Spider-Man meets, fights, and defeats the Rhino; participates in a running argument between John Jameson and J. Jonah Jameson about his heroism; buys a motorcycle; breaks up with his first girlfriend, Betty Brant; flirts with Gwen Stacy; and reluctantly agrees to let Aunt May take him to meet her friend Mrs. Watson’s niece, Mary Jane.

and a new comic,

[…]a 21st century comic book in which Thor, brooding in a Katrina-destroyed New Orleans, beats up Iron Man. He also yells at Iron Man a lot about some incomprehensibly convoluted set of grievances, including involuntary cloning, that he believes Iron Man perpetrated against him while he was dead(?), and then summons some other Norse god from the beyond somehow for reasons having something to do with real estate. I think. Where the 1966 comic is zippy and fun and complete, the whole contemporary one is muddled and lugubrious and seems to constitute a tiny piece of a seemingly endless plot arc—simultaneously apocalyptic and inert.

and concludes that the edgier comic is actually less mature. This is true. (This is not news about mediocre comics.)

It also has nothing to do with either comic being child-friendly, the article’s nominal thesis, except in the sense that ASM #41 (yes, I eyeballed that from that summary, yes I am just showing off now) is better written, making it more everyone-friendly. It also has practically more space dedicated to word balloons than art and is about a college student juggling girl problems and a part-time job with a tyrannical boss. But the immature one, as Scocca points out, is dour.

These are both teenagery issues, separated only by quality. It’s true that lots of new comics published by the big 2 are bad in the specific way Scocca describes here, taking themselves too seriously and hauled down by associated stories instead of buoyed by them. Some are not! Some titles from these companies’ main continuities are zippy, contained, and child friendly. Give your child The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl! Or if you like vintage comics so much better, why don’t you…buy some?

The books on the kid’s rack are good and fun and totally suitable for parents to read with their children without wanting to scoop their eyeballs out. Scocca cites the Batman ‘66 comics as the brightly colored, tightly written all ages solution to his problem about sharing superhero stories with his son. My local comic shop stores this title in the kid’s section. I am glad that Scocca’s does not, as he seems to have a peculiar aversion to looking for comics to read with his son there.

Scocca cites Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse as a superhero movie he could watch with his kids. (I was surprised when this line made it sound like he has several. I don’t want to assume the other one isn’t in this article because they’re a girl, but I very much am assuming that.) Great! Go to the kid’s section and look for Marvel Adventures: Spider-Man. It’s a fun, zippy title directly inspired by ITSV where Miles, Gwen, and Peter superhero together. It’s much more tightly written than most of the various Spider-Verse comics, which are ambitiously messy ubercrossovers. You may not want to give those to children because they include murder and so on, but also you just have the choice between the two as an adult reader deciding how much continuity you want to deal with. Adventures is one of the only titles I would buy on sight before corona. The kid comic rack is a reliable place to take a break from How Comics Get Sometimes regardless of how old you are.

This article makes me feel quarrelsome. Maybe it’s that it doesn’t seem like exploration of a single idea so much as a loosely grouped bundle of things to kvetch about. Maybe it’s that the experience of getting into superheroes that Scocca describes experiencing, projects his seven-year-old son will experience, and from which he extrapolates a metaphorical microcosm of the history of the genre is completely alien to me.

Comic books [and] comic-book movies—are […] trapped in their imagined audience’s own awful passage from childhood to adolescence. A seven-year-old has a clean […] appreciation of superheroes. They like hero comics because the comics have heroes: bold, strong, vividly colored good guys to fight off the bad guys and make the world safe.

But seven-year-olds stop being seven. […] They become 13-year-olds, defensively trying to learn how to develop tastes about tastes.

The 13-year-old wants many things from comics, but the overarching one is that they want to prove that they’re not some seven-year-old baby anymore. They want gloomy heroes, miserable heroes, heroes who would make a seven-year-old feel bad. (Also boobs. They want boobs.)

Not because of the boobs line, although that does illicit an eyeroll that this gloomy thinkpiece is fretting over preserving the superhero experience of little boys who resemble the little boy the writer was while casually dismissing everyone else. I was one of those unlikable little seven-year-olds with a college reading level and the impression that maintaining it was the crux of my worth. I only read Books - distinguished media you could club someone with. I have a formative memory of pausing, enraptured, in front of a poster for Spider-Man 3, preparing to say that it looked pretty cool, and being beaten to the punch by my mother making a disparaging comment about how the movie was trash. It wasn’t out yet, but it was a superhero movie. That meant it was for loud, brainless children.

That was the total of my childhood experience with superheroes, excluding being the unwilling audience to incessant renditions of “Jingle Bells, Batman Smells” that left me wondering why in god’s name Batman’s sidekick was named Robin. I certainly never visited a comic book shop. I got into TvTropes, which got me into webcomics, which got me following David Willis, who got me into Ask Chris at ComicsAlliance, which led to me rewarding myself for studying like a demon for the AP tests with three volumes of Waid’s Daredevil, pitched as a return to the character being colorful and swashbuckling. I was seven…teen.

This is of the same thread as Scocca’s point that immaturity is running from childish things. It leaves me baffled that he doesn’t follow that maturity is embracing them.

I will disclose here that while I think it was dumb I had to overcome my upbringing’s deeply embedded shame associated with enjoying arbitrarily defined lowbrow media and children being childish, I think it’s fine that I was allowed largely unchecked access to technically age-inappropriate content. In my limited experience, content small children are too young for is also content they’re too young to understand, so it kind of just bounces off of them, and what actually ends up terrorizing them is unpredictable collages of impressions that strike out at them from content deemed perfectly child-friendly. I would not forbid a seven-year-old I was in charge of from seeing an MCU movie unless I had a reason to believe that specific child would not take it well. These are emotionally low-stakes bubblegum films. It will probably be easier to socialize with other kids if they have seen them.

But then, when I picture being in charge of a hypothetical child, I usually imagine this being the case because they are related to me, and the pupal stage in my family strongly resembles Wednesday Addams. ALL children love death and violence, though, right?? This isn’t a joke point. I know it looks like a joke point.

The MCU thing seems especially weird in light of the article’s particular focus on Spider-Man, which is the kiddie line of the MCU, even if they refused to waver from their usual formula enough to get a lower rating. Though I am more inclined to describe it as “preying on the young” than “child-friendly”.

(MCU movies are increasingly dubious propaganda, but I would not judge them in front of a child who wanted to watch them for that reason, just in case this led to them partaking of them without me the second they were old enough to and then they grew up to run a blog about them while our relationship suffered because they didn’t feel like it was safe to talk to me about their interests…Mom.)

I tried to overcome the philosophy of letting anyone read anything while compiling this handful of mostly-newish superhero recs for the road that anyone can read. (Handily, I have been in spitting distance of being hired as a comic shop clerk enough to have thought about it before):

For actual children:

Marvel Adventures Spider-Man (the new one is reminiscent of ITSV, the old one is more like 616) any DC/Archie crossover, Archie’s Superteens The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl (for bookish children who think they’re too good for comics and adults afraid of the kid’s section) Teen Titans Go (even if you hate the show) Superman Smashes the Klan

For teens:

Ms. Marvel Young Avengers (volume 2) Unbelievable Gwenpool Batman: Gotham Adventures Teen Titans Go (the tie-in comic based off the old show was also called this)

Here are a bunch of relevant C. S. Lewis quotes.

[chaeiimimi]

HEY BUBS! I HOPE YOU’RE DOING GREAT, PART TWO WAS SUCH A BOMB AS WELL ALDJAKDJA I’M LOWKEY GETTING BABY FEVER ALREADY AT THIS POINT LMAO JK AKSJAKS IF YOU HAVE TIME, I’D LIKE TO REQUEST OSAMU / SUNA / OIKAWA / AKAASHI ALDHAKS ANY OF THEM WOULD BE FINE UWU 😫

HEY BUBS I’M SO SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY BFIWBFIWBF MY LIFE’S BEEN PRETTY CRAPPY LATELY, I’M GLAD YOU LIKED THE SECOD PART AAAAA STAY HAPPY AND HEALTHY BUBS ILY <3

Haikyuu Boys and a Single Mom Pt. 3

Featuring: Suna, Bokuto, Kenma

Suna Rintaro

despite being a professional volleyball player, Suna was still a university student, he evenly splits up his days to go to volleyball practice and university

he was always dreading to go to university, but he knew he needed it, and you, being his seating beside you in three classes, made university bearable

you had this amazing aura, always so gentle, and kind, you had a soft smile plastered on your face almost like a motherly smile, your voice was always calm and soft, you were just so breath-taking to look at

although you two never talked that much, Suna already knew a lot of little details about you, he once drove pass you walking to the kindergarten just one street away from your university, he knew that you carry a container of fruits in your bag, you always left as soon as classes for the day was over, and that was only a few among a hundred of little things about you

Suna admired you from afar, as much as he likes you so much it physically hurts him, love just wasn't his priority, his priority was volleyball and his career

or at least he thought

life surely has a great sense of humor because somehow you guys ended up being partners for a thesis paper

"I look forward to working with you Suna" you smiled

"likewise" he says with his usual blank face

Suna didn't want to admit it, but he was excited

"so, where do we work on this?" he asks looking at the notes he took for that class

"well, we can work on it at my place" you say casually while also looking at your notes

"are you sure it's okay?" he asks again to make sure, this girl, the person he's been crushing on for his two years in university is now inviting him to her place

"yeah, i can't really spend a lot of time outside, my son hates it" 

and just like that Suna was having a mini heart attack, you were married? you have a son? what-

“hey, you alright?” you asked worriedly

Suna quickly composed himself 

“uhh y-yeah, won’t your husband get angry?” he asks 

“oh don’t worry I raise Kiro by myself” you smiled

Suna looked at you strangely, unable to keep up 

you chuckled at his dazed look “I’m a single mother” 

Suna almost breathed out a sigh of relief, thankfully he was able to stop himself or else you would get the wrong idea

“yeah, yeah sure, let’s work on it at your place” he snapped out of it, did he sound too happy to hear that you were single? yes, but we ain’t gonna talk about that 

what was your ex thinking? he was pretty sure your kid was cute and you were so breath-taking to look at, what a stupid guy    

“what does your son likes?” 

“hm?” you asked him to make sure you heard him right 

“what does your son likes?” 

later in the evening, Suna showed up at your place with chocolate chip ice cream and the most expensive sushi he could find

you worked on your project for a good two hours, finalizing the outline of the thesis, while Kiro sat on Suna’s lap, your son immediately liked him, maybe because of the ice cream and sushi , but Kiro was very fond of him

“Kiro, baby, get off of Suna’s lap please he might get tired” you said to your son while you were keeping the things you used

“I don’t mind, he’s surprisingly light” Suna says as he bounces Kiro on his lap

“alright, if you say so, I’m going to prepare snacks” you made your way to the kitchen and left the two in the living room

“mister rin-rin” Kiro whispers while tugging on Suna’s shirt

“hm?” he answers looking at the kid, he was right, Kiro was extraordinarily adorable, it felt like he was looking at a smaller boy version of you and it was making her heart go feral, making him break his rules and try his best to get the both of you

“i want you to be my daddy” he whispers while fiddling with his fingers shyly

please this man is about to combust

he pats the boy’s head “sure bud” he said with a smile

“then can I call you dad?” he asks , eyes sparkling

“well it’s better to start early right? sure you can bud” he says, a full-blown grin plastered on his usually stoic face

Bokuto Koutaro 

the flashing and clicking of cameras occupied the whole room where the MSBY Jackals were holding their post-game press conference, they won the game by the way and Bokuto was in high spirits answering questions thrown at him by the reporters 

it was your turn to ask a question to the players and you stood up “Bokuto-san, your fans are always wondering why you’re always in high spirits, what is your secret?” 

Bokuto has never seen you before, were you a knew reporter? because damn he would’ve noticed you immediately if you were on their past press conferences, you looked like a celebrity to be quite honest 

“I’m playing volleyball, there’s no room for me to be unhappy” he simply says 

 it was you first day at your new job, quite frankly, you’re glad you quitted your old one, they forced you to stay behind the camera and write scripts for anchors when you finished a bachelor degree on broadcasting 

“Can’t blame him, I’m also happy when I do my job” you mumble to yourself as you remembered Bokuto’s answer to your question

“mama!” you looked at your son who was in the arms of your cousin Kuroo

“hey thanks for doing this for me couz” you say as they stopped right in front of you

“mama! have you seen the game?! they were so awesome! Uncle Tetsu promised me to go meet MSBY!” your son happily jolts in his Uncle’s arm

you looked at him with a motherly smile, happy that you’re son enjoyed the game 

“you coming with us?” Kuroo asked

“you two go ahead I’ll just rest for a bit” you were tired with keeping up with the game and asking questions 

the two nodded “alright, just show this to the guard and they’ll let you enter” Kuroo says, handing you a pass

you mutter a small thank you as you watch them walk away

let’s just say Gen, your son, was liked by every single member of the team, I mean, who could ever dislike such an adorable kid?

“MSBY cool! Shoyo pwaaa! Boto bam!” he says while jumping up and down, while Kuroo watched his nephew smiling

Bokuto was particularly very fond of him, was it because the kid was unbelievably adorable? or was it because the kid reminded him of a certain reporter? He’d like to think both

“Gen-kun who’s yer fav’rite player eh?” Atsumu asks the kid

the kid looked at eight full-grown man looking at him expectantly, his eyes stopped on the black-and-white haired spiker and made grabby hands towards him “BOUTO! BOUTO!” 

the members were disappointed but not surprised at all, kids tend to go to Bokuto or Hinata since they have the friendliest faces

“HEY! HEY! HEEEY!” Bokuto did not hesitate and lifted the boy up in the air, as they both giggle

“Tetsu?” your voice interrupted the commotion inside the room

Kuroo went to the door and opened it for you and the first thing you saw was your son giggling with the person stuck in your head for about twenty minutes now

“Mama!” your son screamed as soon as he saw you and asked to be put down to run towards you giving you a hug on your leg you looked down at him and patted his head gently

Kuroo cleared his throat “this is Y/N L/N my cousin, the mother of adorable the adorable Gen, she is single and ready to mingle, 2 in 1 you get an adorable son and a lovely wife, contact me for more details, the price can be discussed” 

you deadpanned at your cousin, why tf was he selling you like an auction, you shook your head 

you were hyper aware of the intensity of the owl-eyed spiker, making you blush

while Bokuto was over here thinking, damn he hit the jackpot an adorable son and an absolutely gorgeous wife? you bet he’s in and he’s gonna do everything he can to win you and make you and your son happy

“I’m sorry about him, please excuse me, my son and I needs to leave” you said politely and bowed as you take your son away

unbeknownst to you, Bokuto was in the middle of business with your cousin

“hey, how much for the details?” Bokuto whispers to his bestfriend as if they were in the middle of an illegal transaction

Kuroo looked at his friend with eyebrows raised

“I’ll pay any amount” Bokuto was very serious, which made the former Nekoma captain burts out laughing

“well, since you’re my good friend, a few drinks will do” Kuroo after his hyena laugh session

“Hey! hey! hey! thanks Kubroo!” Bokuto says in his usual cheery voice

later that night, you wondered why you were having dinner with your son, your cousin, and the former captain of Fukurodani, how he managed to get you flowers in such a short amount of time and this late at night was beyond your knowledge. But you weren’t complaining though, how could you when he looked adorable with a flushed face asking for your number after driving you and your son home.

Kenma Kozume

Kenma wasn’t fond of kids, he didn’t disliked them, he just preferred hanging out with adults who were less hyper, proceeds to hangout with Bokuto, Hinata and Kuroo

but he was a gamer and it is inevitable that some of his fans were kids, he didn’t mind it though he is thankful to each and everyone of his fans

being the twenty-eight year old youtuber/CEO that he is, he barely have time to go out and it happened very rarely, and today happened to be one of those rare occasions as he got out to get some ice cream in a very hot summer day

but he was in a for surprise, at an empty alley, he heard a ruckus

“give it back! please give it back!” 

it was never in Kenma’s personality to pry, but something was pushing him to go check out what was going on

he went inside to the dark alley and saw four boys, about eight years old, one was in the middle, his clothes all crumpled and dirty, his bag empty, his things sprawled out, scattered in front of him

“you want this thing? it’s not even the latest model, you think kodzu-” 

Kenma cleared his throat, already able to register what was happening

“ken” the bully continued

“you know kids, I don’t really like bullies” Kenma starts as he walks towards the little boy, picking up his scattered things one by one and putting it in his bag

“leave, before I report you to your school” Kenma says stoically which made one of the boys drop the game console in his hand as the three of them scramble to get out of the dark alley

the little boy picked up the game console and tried to open it, but to no avail, it was broken

Kenma went closer as he handed him his bag 

“are you okay?” he asked as he crouch down to the boy’s level, it was obvious that he was not okay, his face had little scratches and his clothes were all dirty and slightly damped 

but the little boy meekly nodded and looked down on his game console, which Kenma noticed 

“I can get you a new one” he says in attempt to cheer up the little boy, he didn’t know what was pushing him to do so, but his heart broke at the sight of him broke his heart 

“mister Kodzuken, can you please get this fixed for me instead?” for the first time, the boy looked at him with sad eyes

how could he say no to that face? he took the game console and looked at the boy

“is there a reason why you want me to fix it?” he asks

“my mom worked hard to get me that on my birthday, she didn’t buy her favorite coffee, her favorite bread, she patched up her shoes instead of buying a new one, she even lied to me that she wasn’t hungry when we ate out, I don’t wanna make her sad” the boy sadly said and wore his bag

Kenma was in awe, no wonder this boy was so polite and respectful

“alright, how but I’ll call your mother now, she is needed in this situation” Kenma says as he takes out his phone

the boy slowly dictates his mom’s phone number, and when he was done, Kenma was speechless, the number was already registered as his secretary’s number

Kenma shakily presses the call button

“sir?” your voice from the other line, never seize to make his heart skip a beat

“Y/n do you happen to have a son?” his voice was still calm

“yes, how did you know sir? i have a son he’s name is Eiji, he’s eight” you happily told him

“well, I kinda caught some kids bullying him, I think that you’re needed here” he says calmly 

“oh no, my baby, i’ll be there ASAP sir, please do send the location”

“I’ll send the location to my driver, he’ll pick you up” Kenma says and hangs up as he send a quick messege and the location to his driver

Kenma was supposed to ask you out tomorrow, that was the reason why he didn’t go to the office today, he was going to surprise you at his place because he didn’t want you, the girl he liked to the horrible people of the internet

you were too pure, too kind, you always made sure to get him something to eat despite his resistance, made sure that he doesn’t overwork himself and even going to the extent where you do some of his workloads, of course he trusted you enough to do so and you’ve been working with him for four years now

but you had a child? did you have a husband? but you’re resume said that you were single? is it a boyfriend?

“you know mister Kodzuken, mama always talks about you when I ask her about her day, I think she’s got a little crush on you” Eiji smiled softly at him

which almost made the former setter melt into a puddle, the boy was adorable, and even if his original plan was to just date you, he was more than happy to have Eiji, having a mini you around made it all even better, he wasn’t fond of kids but the little boy infront of him was an exception

“I think, I can make that happen” he smiles softly

the day after you appeared looking distressed, talked to your son’s bullies and their parents at the school’s principal office with Kenma and Eiji seating beside you, you were now inside your boss’ house, he was asking you to be his girlfriend, your son happily jumping up and down beside him

how could you say no, when four years ago, you were only dreaming of this moment?