#and am always underlining shit and writing in the margins

[yepthatsacowalright]

"If you are not forced to be on the screen, then the real agency you have is to ask the question, what is the purpose of this reading? If the purpose is to experience the beauty of an author, if you are doing it on the screen, I assure you, even with your most disciplined habits, you're going to miss - you're going to skim no matter what because that's what we do. We're so accustomed to skimming. So if the purpose is beauty, forget the screen. If the purpose is a contract or something legal that you really need to ponder and pore over, or in my case, often reviewing an article. If I've decided I have to do this article as a review that's careful, I print it out because print does not hasten us. Print goes according to our own pace.

For my email, I assure you, Andrew, I never deep-read, and therefore I skip a lot of things and make mistakes, even. But I do not deep-read many things that all I need is the gist. And when you only need the gist, you can just, you know, use whatever medium you want. But if you want to really go back to your reading habits before the screen, before you became almost a skim reader, then I ask you to really think hard about your choices." - Maryanne Wolf on the Life Kit episode How to practice 'deep reading'

[starcloud-nova]

ooh for the writing ask game! 1, 7, 15, 25, and 40 please if you don't mind

hey catla!

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

BOTH. It's the default setting but also I care so much. I never bothered changing the font of the doc (+ some teachers accept Arial as MLA so I stuck with it) so now I'm sooo used to it and I'm obsessed with Arial. Love her.

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

Watching my idea be real... it's so fun. I just. I put my brain on the page, and then I get to show people. It's lovely. My brain is always coming up with new ideas but through writing I can see them in their best form.

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

I only annotate my own books and usually I do so when I specifically set out to annotate a book I love! Not all of my books are annotated, or even most of them... I never write stuff, usually just underline the Good Shit. I've got The Outsiders, part of That was Then, This is Now, and The Poet X annotated. Dog-earing ruins pages :( and reading in the bath... why. Wetness everywhere. No.

I will not judge you! Unless you do it to library books. Then no.

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

I could either dump abt my OCs here (but I'm still drafting that ask!) or I could say...hmm... I don't really know actually! Usually when I write [fan]fic I just come up with an idea and write that specific universe. Not a longfic kinda person. But I will say for my still-in-the-pre-outline-stage ben!fic, Ben [TUA] is just such a wonder 2 me. There is so much about him I don't know yet, and writing in precanon lets me dabble in the kind of person he was before he died.

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

I am actually poem starved I sent this same ask to Cassia because I know she's always got great ones. Let me try and find one you wouldn't have seen...

The World Has Need of You by Ellen Bass

I can hardly imagine it as I walk to the lighthouse, feeling the ancient prayer of my arms swinging in counterpoint to my feet. Here I am, suspended between the sidewalk and twilight, the sky dimming so fast it seems alive. What if you felt the invisible tug between you and everything? A boy on a bicycle rides by, his white shirt open, flaring behind him like wings. It’s a hard time to be human. We know too much and too little. Does the breeze need us? The cliffs? The gulls? If you’ve managed to do one good thing, the ocean doesn’t care. But when Newton’s apple fell toward the earth, the earth, ever so slightly, fell toward the apple as well.

There are some poems I have saved and I wonder why I saved them and then I read the last lines and I go oh that's why.

[poisxnyouth]

teacher dave chapter 5 (d.d)

A/N: well...........here we are........aren’t we? it’s been a while (over a year...). to all of y’all who have been in my inbox begging for this for so long - this is for u <3 -hailey

WC: 3.1K

“Shut up,” David whispers harshly as you hike up your skirt, propping yourself against a shelf in his storage room. The sound of his fingers tugging down the zipper of his black jeans seems too loud, juxtaposed with the noises of your breathing. You don’t pay attention, hands on the back of his neck, as he tears open a condom and rolls it on, stuffing the wrapper in the breast pocket of his white dress shirt. He spreads your legs and supports your weight against the shelf, routinely placing a hand over your mouth as he slips it in slowly.

 David feels you breathe heavier into his hand, eyes boring into yours, before he pulls it away and drops his head to your shoulder, hips moving steadily. He goes carefully, both hands gripping your hips tightly and holding you up as he fucks into you, the only noise being the conglomeration of your quiet breathing. On a particularly harder movement, you gasp as he hits deeper and the shelf shoves against the wall loudly, your legs wrapping around his waist. He makes a lower noise in the back of his throat before you speak in a whisper, “Is Miss Sh-”

 “Be quiet,” he cuts you off, shaking his head, “I really don’t want to think about her right now.” 

 You nod as David’s grip readjusts, pushing your thighs up and pinning you to the shelving, leaning up and attaching your mouths. The strip of wood is pressing perpendicularly into your spine and you can already feel the bruises David’s pressure is going to leave, his teeth gently clashing with yours as he continues his movements. 

 It only takes a small whimper into his mouth for him to pull away and put his hand over your lips once more, eyes scanning your face deliberately. He whispers quietly, voice gruff, “You like this?”

 You nod against his grasp, a silent urgence for him to speak more, “Get yourself off. I would do it, but I’ve got my hands full.” 

 You obey, fingers running from the nape of his neck down his shoulders and his front, moving to touch yourself. David’s gaze drops between you as your free hand tangles strands of his hair between your fingers, his breathing heavy, “Faster, honey. We gotta hurry this shit up. It’s taking too long.” 

 His hips speed up, too, hitting deeper, and you feel his fingertips press harder into your skin as you get closer. David shuts himself up as he cums by sinking his teeth into your shoulder, simultaneously tugging each other closer. He slinks away quietly moments after, removing the condom and tying it as you move to slip the sleeves of your blouse back over your arms and adjust your underwear. He does the same, rebuttoning and tucking his dress shirt, quickly tying his tie into a Pratt knot. David’s rebuckling his belt as he watches you peek under the fabric to glance at the marks on your shoulder, quietly speaking, “Sorry, baby. It’s habit now.”

 The new outlines of his teeth on your shoulder aren't the only ones, accompanied by deep violet bruises embossed into your skin from previous storage room sessions. He does it to keep himself quiet, and they always bruise deeply, but it catches his eye during class when he spots you subconsciously pushing at them. David’s regret is only a guise.

 He takes a step forward and kisses you deeply, hands on your waist and tugging your body closer to his. You feel both of his palms slide down to the width of your hips and down to your ass, gripping tightly.

 “God damn it,” David gripes as you run your hands down his front, stopping to fiddle with the flap of his belt, “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

 “So are you. We don’t have time,” you say in a whisper, fingers still on his belt. His semi-hard dick nudges your thigh slightly, and you take it upon yourself to begin unbuckling him.

 “Stop it, sweetheart,” David’s hand leaves you to push away your touches, “I want you to do something for me.” 

 You tilt your head, placing your hands on his chest and gazing at him in a way which urges him to continue, “Go sign yourself out, drive to my place, go in, and wait for me until I get home.” 

 “It’s twelve, I’ll be waiting for-”

 “Do it,” he says again, pressing kisses down the column of your throat, “I’ll give you the key. I need to fuck the life out of you, not this piddly shit. I’m tired of it.” 

 You look at him doubtfully before agreeing, watching him pull his keys from the front pocket of his jeans and remove his house key from the ring, placing it in the palm of your hand. David continues speaking, “No clothes when I walk in, please.” 

 “Dinner tonight?” you ask him, moving to straighten his tie, “After?”

 David shakes his head and presses a kiss to your cheek, voice dropping, “I’m not your boyfriend.”

 “You should be,” you reply quickly, eyes rolling, “It’s not like we’re fucking other people.” 

 He clears his throat and steps away, realizing he missed a button on his shirt and correcting his mistake, “Speak for yourself.”

 “Excuse me?” you blink, instant attitude as your eyebrows scrunch together, “Then what the fuck, Dave?”

 “It’s so easy to get a rise out of you,” he says easily, hands coming to your waist, faces close, “Yes, we can have dinner. You know that you can stay as long as you want to.”

 “You’re such an asshole,” you gripe, hitting at his chest, “I was literally like, ‘Oh, so that’s why he doesn’t want to be a thing-’”

 “I don’t wanna talk about this right now,” David urges, shaking his head, “Later. You know the drill.”

 He kisses you quickly before abandoning the room, momentarily leaving you to your own devices as he turns lights on in his classroom, hearing him piddle around aimlessly. David, without fail, forces you to toss the remaining condom - every time. This means you have to grossly carry it around with you and discreetly find a way to throw it out; usually in the metal disposal box of a bathroom stall on campus. Regardless, it’s disgusting, and he never understands why it’s a bone of contention. 

 “Honestly, Y/N,” David shrugs as you time your way out of his storage room, waiting a few minutes to exit after him, “Just throw it out of the window when you leave. It’s not a big deal.”

 “It’s gross!”

 “Whatever,” he rolls his eyes, going through papers on his desk, “Your paper sucks.”

 David stuffs your paper into your hands, the number sixty-five scribbled and circled at the top of the page, “Do it over and do better. Actually, do it while you’re waiting for me. I want it done when I get there.”

 “Are you kidding me?” you protest, annoyed with his presence, “Why are you being such a dick?”

 He tuts and shrugs his shoulders, “I literally told you how to get an A and you didn’t listen to me. It’s up to you, now.”

 “How am I fucking you and I still get this?” you drop your voice, “Is that really how this works?”

 David steps towards you, hands stuffed into his pockets, “I don’t give a fuck how good you suck my cock. Bad work is bad work. Get over yourself. Fucking doesn’t give you an A.”

 “I suggest,” he continues, “You leave, and work on that now. You have a lot to fix.” 

 You huff, sighing deeply as you stuff it into your bag, “I hate you so much.”

 “The horrible price I pay as your teacher,” David quips sarcastically, leaning against his desk, “Cry me a river, sweetheart.” 

 “I swear, sometimes you do it on purpose,” he rolls his eyes and shakes his head, “You give me shitty work just so I pay more attention to you.”

 “Asshole,” you retort, “Maybe it’s just bad work.” 

 “Nah,” he tuts, fingers running through his hair, “You know what kind of shit I like to see from you. Teacher’s pet.”

 David glances at his watch and then you, sighing deeply, “You should leave. The bell rings in . five, and I have copies to make. I’ll see you later. Text me if you need anything.”

 “Fine,” you say, still annoyed with him, “Computer?”

 “Yeah, whatever,” he shrugs at your question of using his personal computer, standing up straight from his position against his desk, looking around before pressing a kiss to your lips. You take the hint and bid him goodbye, clueless as to why you’re giving him the pleasure of knowing you’ll oblige him for whatever he asks of you. 

 ++

Every single margin of your paper has arrows and his scribbled, sloppy handwriting, describing your mistakes in harsh detail; one of them specifically reads, “Am I really this bad of a teacher?” David’s notes all come across sarcastic and overly critical of your writing, explanations, and citations.

 “If we ever get into an argument, it’s a guaranteed win for me. Your reasonings suck.”

 “This is exactly what I told you to not,” he underlines five times, “do. So why did you do it???”

 “I hate that I’m going to have to read this twice in my life. Do better.” 

 “Jesus! NO.”

 Even his annotations piss you off, and you’re annoyed as you sit in front of his computer, rewriting it to his specific taste. You finish rewriting the paper after three hours and raiding his fridge for a few beers in the middle of the day, and he’s completely unsurprised to see the pile in the trash when he walks through the door. 

 “I should’ve known you’d steal my shit,” he gripes, not actually caring as he sets his things down, unbuttoning his collar and making his way over to you. You’re still in front of his computer, parked in his chair, and David presses a kiss to your forehead, leaning down to read what you’ve written. 

 He only skims through a couple of lines before nodding his head and standing up straight, “Already better. Print it, I’ll grade it later. Why are your clothes on?” 

 David tugs at the sleeve of your blouse as he takes a swig of your drink, watching as you stand and begin to pull off your clothes. He makes a common admission before you lean up to kiss him, “I’ve been thinking about this ever since you left. Thought about you snooping through my stuff and my dick got hard.” 

 “I didn’t snoop,” you reassure as he shamelessly drags your hips closer to his, “But maybe I should have? What’s there to find?”

 “Guess you’ll find out sometime,” David shrugs, teasing as he attaches your mouths and places the Corona back down, hand on your ass as you tug at his tie. You blindly untie it, dropping it to the floor and focusing your fingers on the buttons. His free hand works on his belt, both of you breathing heavily into the kisses while he gently pushes you towards his bed. 

 It’s a familiar stumble as he sightlessly steps out of his shoes and shrugs off his dress shirt, a too formal garment for his profession, jeans pooling around his ankles. His fingers pull your underwear down your legs and unclasp your bra, lips leaving yours and quickly placing themselves on your skin. The saliva on your skin is visible, the light hitting it, as you lie on his bed and he kisses downwards, eyes fluttering closed as he settles between your legs. 

 The fact that you have been fucking your teacher for weeks now, no matter how much you do so, never becomes routine. Every time it happens, you’re just as shocked as the first time, and you relish in the noise he makes as he tastes you and holds your thighs apart, pressed against the side of the bed. David watches your face like a hawk as he goes down on you, mentally noting every indication of enjoyment you supply him with. 

 You whine his name and tug on his hair as he leaves a painful hickey on the sensitive skin in the uppermost of your inner thigh. He pulls away and glances down at his work, bringing up his fingers to rub over it and press into it, watching as you gasp in momentary pain. 

 He rolls his eyes, murmuring under his breath, “You’re the one who likes being all marked up.”

 David digs through his bedside table for a condom before you pluck it from him and toss it, tugging him closer, “Come on. Please? I’m on-”

 “The shot. Yeah, I fucking know,” he rolls his eyes again, “You try this shit almost every time.”

 “Daviiiid,” you say, pushing slightly at the waistband of his briefs, “It sucks with one.”

 “Fine, just this once, but I’m pulling out,” Dave gives in, “You’re my student. No babies.”

 “No babies,” you repeat, nodding and kissing him again, palming him gently before tugging him out. He pushes the undergarment down his legs and settles between you again, taking his time and watching your face.

 “Hit it from the back,” you suggest, attempting to move over.

 “No,” David stops you, holding you down, “Here.”

 You easily give in and you feel him push into you as one of his hands wraps around the circumference of your neck. The sight of your cheeks going a reddish pink, eyes rolling back and mouth dropping open, is enough jerk off material - should he ever need it - to last him for the rest of his life. 

 “Fuck yes,” he says at the sensation of being bare, head dropping as he groans slightly, “So much better.”

 David watches your face become redder before he removes his touch, a white handprint visible from his pressure. He holds himself up above you as he closes his eyes, hips moving steadily. He gives into you, pulling out and rolling you over onto your stomach. You instinctively arch your back, one of his hands coming to your shoulder for leverage as he slowly slips himself inside, grunting deeply and twisting his face up as he bottoms out.

 A higher pitched whine emerges from your throat, your moans mixing with his as he fucks into you. He roughly pulls your body by your shoulder to meet him in the middle, grip tight, and he doesn’t stop you when you begin shamelessly touching yourself. You feel David kiss sloppily down your spine, teeth grazing gently. 

 He wishes he could see your face when he stops his movements and reaches around to press against your lower abdomen, feeling you slacken and grip at his forearm, suddenly a million times noisier than before. Combined with your own caresses, you nearly instantly cum at the combination of sensations. 

 David follows you shortly afterwards, hastily remembering to pull out and jerk himself off, cum splattering across your lower back. He feels the sweat trickle down his back as he recovers, panting and breathing heavily as he blinks himself back to reality. He reaches for his shirt on the floor, carelessly wiping you clean and tossing it back onto the carpet. Dave doesn’t pay attention as he tugs his underwear back on and you climb under his covers, running his fingers through his hair.

 “Shit,” he groans, getting in next to you, “I kinda pulled out...a little late.”

 “Jesus, you suck,” you sigh, pressing your thighs together and scooting closer to him, head on his chest.

 “No babies, though,” David says, holding his pinky up, “Right?”

 “No babies,” you repeat, half-heartedly pinky promising with him, “Can you grade my paper?”

 “I just came,” he reasons, shaking his head, “Give me a fucking sec.”

 “I love my job,” David begins randomly, eyes closed again, “But God, I miss blunts.” 

 “You smoke?”

 “Not anymore,” he says sternly, slapping at your arm slightly, “Don’t try to talk me into it. They test us.” 

 “I was just asking,” you roll your eyes at his accusatory tone, changing the subject, “You should be my boyfriend.”

 David opens his eyes lazily, glancing down at you, “You’re horrible at pillow talk, you know that?” 

 “You deflect every time I bring it up,” you comment quietly, “Just say no already.”

 He sighs and you feel the band of his watch land on your waist as he throws his hand over your torso, fingers rubbing delicately at the skin as he stares at the ceiling, “It’s not a no.”

 “But it’s not a yes either,” you reply, listening to his heartbeat beneath your ear, “Which is a maybe, which is actually worse than a no.” 

 “You’re too cynical,” David shrugs and shakes his head, one hand smoothing over your hair, “It’s not that deep, sweetheart. I’m still your teacher. I know that you know why I have reservations, and you know what it would mean if we did. I’m not sure I want that for you.”

 “For me?” you reply, turning to look at him, almost offended, “What would be at stake?”

 “Not dating your teacher?” he responds, tone becoming ruder, “If this became anything more, I’d feel like I’m taking something away from you. You still have a few months left before you’re done. You shouldn’t be thinking about me.” 

 You scoff ignorantly, unmoving, “So, you wouldn’t even try it?”

 “Sure, I’d try it,” David rushes out, “But, honey…” 

 He sighs again stressedly, swallowing, “You’re not listening to me. It’s not about you; this would be short-lived at its best and you know it. It’s not like I’m going to be leaving here, and you are.”

 You both go quiet in each other’s embrace and David makes a soft groan before getting up, walking over and grabbing your paper from his printer. You watch him from his bed as he tears the cap off of his red pen with his teeth and leans against his desk in his underwear, spitting the cap out and reading your essay quietly. His eyebrows remain scrunched together as he grades it, scribbling and writing sporadically, the noise of the pen against the paper noisy in the silence. 

 You watch him chew on his lips as he flips through the pages and rereads paragraphs, quickly scratching a grade at the top of your first page. David tosses your work on the bed before speaking, “Better. See what happens when you listen to me? I’m showering, if you’re coming.” 

 It’s a one hundred, accompanied by a messy, scribbled heart.

[cullinankatsudon]

Let’s get super damn real about representation/education and coded protection

So this is a series of asks I just got, which is actually one ask, which I can’t answer publicly without only answering one, so I just screenshot the whole mess and now I’m “answering” by using this as a jumping off point and going from here. And when I say GOING I mean fucking going, because JFC do I have some goddamned thoughts. There is so much to unpack here, both the stuff said and the stuff which is unsaid, which the asker may or may not have been thinking, but I know other people are so I’m just going to say it and everyone can either listen or leave. I don’t really care. The title of the blog is Just Here For The Ships and it is true. Please skip this and go back to the pics of Victuuri being awesome if you like.

I am not 24. I am 44. I am the author to over 25 published novels of LGBTQIA romance, many of which have won awards and have been translated into...I’ve lost count of the languages. Like, five? Lots. I’m not Big Shit but I’m not some peon who doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I write about sex, though, and sensuality. I have written an asexual romance, and BDSM romances, and moderately sexual romances, and a romance with an autistic hero, several with heroes with anxiety/depression, May/December relationships, and a great number of new adult novels, which is basically the next step away from young adult, and often features 18yos so basically I write, often, teenagers having sex. And as I have said, I am 44, so I guess from the perspective of a 24 year old I am an ancient old creaky person perving like fuck. But we will cover this more in a moment.

I am also by identification a queer woman. No one has any right to that information whatsoever, it is none of your business. But I am public about it and I volunteer it for a specific reason which I will also underline later in this conversation. Now to the answer to the ask.

The incredibly short answer to this ask is, if you don’t like what other people are doing, don’t look at it. Don’t read their shit, don’t read their blogs, don’t engage. I keep quoting @fencer-x in this discussion because her opinions and mine align, and I respect her way of dealing with frustrating topics: she blocks people when she knows their views and hers clash and interactions with them will only make her angry/frustrated. My god, what an adult reaction. She doesn’t chase people down and harass them (not adult). She simply says, “This will make me ranty. I’m going to end this before it can start and go on with my happy ways.” Incredibly proactive because she has high-volume interaction on Tumblr.

But this ask isn’t a harassment, it’s an honest ask: why would an adult want to read about two teenagers having sex. I find it a frustrating ask, but I’ll honor it because I’m in a waiting-for-email loop and anyway, I’ve been seeing this go by my feed for months, Fencer keeps hammering at it and why should she have to keep saying the same thing? I’ll take an axe swing for the team. Just be ready because I am here with some fucking receipts.

Answer A: Assuming that adults people are reading about teenagers having sex because they are getting off is incredibly juvenile and reveals shallowness of comprehension of literature in general.

I don’t have hard sales on YA romance in front of me, but I’m a member of Romance Writers of America and could probably get it pretty quickly with a few emails; what I do know is that YA romance is doing fine, more than, and it’s not being read by only teens and whatever magical cut off is considered not-gross in legal adulthood. I don’t have any comprehension over what moment that is, when an adult human becomes old enough and now reading about teenagers is gross--is it simply always someone younger? Am I not allowed to read about thirty-year-olds fucking?--but whatever this is, I don’t care, because I don’t subscribe to it, largely because I know that readers of romance in general but especially young adult romance are rarely reading for sex alone. There are some people, yes. There’s nothing wrong with those choices, but they’re rare in any event, and we’re not talking about them yet. 

My new adult novels, however, while they are read by some college age people and some high school students, are largely read by adults, many of them my age or older. For the queer identifying reader especially, the books featuring young protagonists starting out in life often move them to write me passionate letters which in turn make me cry. But the heterosexual readers will often feel just as strongly. 

Why? Because it will possibly surprise (or depress?) a number of twenty somethings to discover that when people hit their thirties or especially forties/fifties, they look back at their twenties/youth and feel nostalgia, regret, and sadness over possibilities lost, time slipped away, and in the case of many women and queer youth, opportunities never granted. For many bi/pan people in particular of my generation, we quietly slipped into a heteronormative path because it seemed like the only choice, and while we may have made happy marriages, there are parts of our selves which never got to see the light of day, and that hurts. These books, these explorations, are ways to have those moments. 

Writing fiction is an even more empowering way to explore those same themes--and not everyone wants the hell of chasing down a publishing career, so fan fiction is a nice alternative. 

Perhaps you’re about to say, “But Heidi, those straight women are FETISHIZING!!!!!!!!” Oh, sure, maybe some are? I don’t know. I imagine you’d like to point them out to me? I suspect you have a list prepared. I bet you know who alllll those bitches are, eh?

Let me tell you a story. 

In the publishing world, people do the same thing. Readers and published authors alike loooove to play that game, imagining who is entitled to do what, and every so often someone decides to go on a witch hunt. Now sometimes there are truly people who have been deceiving others and the betrayals are horrible to see unfold, and they always break the community. And then sometimes--several times in my tenure--I have watched people go after “straight” women who have “dared” to step wrongly in queer romance...and all the while I have known that these women are in fact not straight, but rather are simply not out. I have done what I can to help, but there isn’t much to do, except that I keep a list--a real list--of the people carrying torches and I do not engage, do not highlight, do not give oxygen in any form, ever. So be very careful when you make your judgments of shippers FETISHIZING!!!!!!!! because you might be completely wrong, even if the bio on that person’s blog says they’re straight. If you don’t like what someone is doing, you should probably take Fencer’s approach and simply block them.

One of the reasons I am out--though only one--is because it is more uncomfortable for me to think about being jumped by assholes from my own team wanting to accuse me of appropriation than it is being accosted by an antigay bigot. I would like you to think about that for a long time before you ever approach someone about being allegedly straight.

But even the straight shippers have plenty of agency to enjoy writing about teenagers having a relationship which may include sex. That brings us to the next answer, though.

Answer B: women have a lot of unpacking to do in this damn world about sex, and in nearly every culture they are saying, over and over, romance between male same sex pairings helps them do this work. Including young pairings.

This answer comes with a ton of controversy and has taken me eight years of being published to come up with, and my way of speaking to it is ever evolving. While it is true that I have many gay male readers and nonbinary readers for my books which are largely about gay males falling in love, I also have many female readers of all orientation, though a large chunk of those are straight. This phenomenon has been the butt of jokes and point of ire depending on who is writing the article or asking me questions over my years as an author. 

This is a whole other essay, gnarly and deep, but the main gist is that women’s sexuality is so fraught and politicized that many women--worldwide, across cultures--feel more comfortable exploring issues about sexuality when the pairing is between two men than a woman and a man or two women. Now: personally, I want us to move beyond this and evolve, to move to two women as well as two men, to add in some heterosexual pairings but have the man be different as part of a trope--but we aren’t there yet, clearly, for so many reasons.  I think it’s important we keep pushing and trying, but it’s going to have to evolve there, not be shamed there or rammed there. 

We have a patriarchal culture; it’s no surprise that to undo this women pit two men against one another and attempt to undo the power structure by domesticating it, by rewriting it (literally), by remixing it on their own terms. Now--speaking as a queer woman, I do think we must, especially when writing gay men, be respectful and be aware we are writing about a marginalized group. However, this is a marginalized group writing about a marginalized group--women/gay men--and especially if the pairing is about white men, it’s an even power match. Gay white men in fact can seize more power than white women, if they want it--they must deny their orientation, but the choice is there.

It’s true that women writing about gay men can and have been sloppy, that descent into rape fantasy and feminization harm the relationship between gay men and women of any orientation. It’s also true that there are gay men quietly reading those same tropes the same way women in the 70s and 80s read rape fantasy and rescue fantasy in romance as part of their own evolution to claiming power (and yes, that is a thing). 

But wait, Heidi, you say, what the hell does this have to do with teenagers having sex?

Plenty. 

Because we’re talking specifically about Otayuri, yes? Yurio having sex with Otabek, who is not an adult, but is for some reason to some people, and we’re talking about adults reading about this. They are a gay pairing. And unlike Victuuri, they are not canon, not yet, maybe not ever, and this is very important right now, because there is more power in a non canon ship when you are writing them yourself, because you are creating the link. When you write Victuuri you’re celebrating a couple the creators literally put rings on. When you write Sterek or Sheith or anyone else who is not in their actual fictional show a couple, and when you are taking straight men and queering them up in a pairing, you are claiming power. I don’t care what your orientation is. You are taking a big dildo and aiming at the patriarchal system of the world through fiction and you are saying, “I am going to fuck with this, literally.”

To do that with young men is another statement on top of that. I don’t know, do people bitch about Sterek? Are there people freaking out about TEEN WOLF, TEEN Sterek and the older guy, the mentor, the adult graduate jailbaiter who gets shipped with him? I don’t have a problem with it at all, but if you want to go legally by the show, those are the terms. Why do people do it? Because there’s something in that power play that speaks to them. Something specific about Styles, who appears weak and young and vulnerable, and Derek, who is older and powerful but has a vulnerable side. 

Derek is the patriarchy, and Styles is how you bring him down. It’s more complicated than that, nobody thinks like that, but if you want to get deep as fuck with it, and I do, that’s what’s happening, and why it’s important. Styles is a kid, technically. As an actor I get that he’s an adult. Maybe that’s why there’s no freak out?

Okay let’s go to Sheith. Shiro is 24 and Keith is 18. Legit no legal issues here, plus they’re in space and in the future, but still youth is on board, and we have an age difference. Age differences are powerful. May/December is a thing and they’re heady in gay romance. Boy do people love the idea of a younger man bringing an older man to heel through love. This is not May/December, 24/18, but that age gap is enough to make people feel the pull, and the power dynamic is another. Shiro is the leader. Patriarchy. Keith is the feisty underling. You want to know why that ship is hot? That right there. Staid patriarchy needing feisty youngling to fuck it from underneath and get it to unlace.

You want to know why gay romance is so alluring, why people love gay ships, especially with straight characters? Because we are so goddamned desperate to change our culture and it won’t change and we don’t know how to do it and we feel like we have no power, and materially we don’t have a ton, but what we do have are these stories and a few hours a night to read or write subversive literature.

So I did everyone but Yurio. Let’s talk about Yuri P. Yurio is fifteen, a baby, a precious baby. He is not a baby. He tells you over and over he is an ice tiger. He got an upgrade in the BD where he explained how he wanted to dress himself and do his own music and he got his friend boyfriend to help him get dressed and pick a song and choreograph a new skate overnight, and then when he saw Victuuri was going to one-up him he came up with something to top them on the fly and it was hot and sexual and not at all contrived. The boy bled sex all over the ice, and if he had skated that routine up against Eros and Chris’s ass grab he would have won the competition. The boy is not a boy, he’s a young man and he is aware of his sexuality. He gets to play with it and claim it.

And people get to play with it too. It is a real thing, it is there, and it is ripe for the exploration. It is valid and on the table. Which brings us to the last answer (except there are about fifty more, I’m just only going to give one more because this is long as fuck and I have a family and I”m getting bored of this)

Answer C: Sex is fabulous and it is okay to like sex (and okay to not like sex)

Okay at the moment I am answering this in the theoretical, as a hysterectomy and PTSD over a past trauma regarding sex and way too much work-related stress have made the actual having of sex not something I’m interested in personally, but theoretically I find sex to be a wonderful, beautiful thing, and I’m currently going to therapy once a week to get my shit straight so that someday I can have it again because I do like it a lot and I believe in the power and beauty of sex and everyone’s right to have it and enjoy it (or not) in whatever way that pleases them so long as it is safe, sane, and consensual. I’ve written books that open with a blow job (true story) and books that are described as about “fisting cowboys full of feels” and also books with nothing more than two kisses and make out sessions holding hands and books where the sex is awkward and books where the sex mostly fades to black and everything in between. 

This includes sex by and for teens, because they have it. It’s okay for them to have it and it’s okay for me to read about it (and watch shows where they have it) and find it hot if it is because there is not an age limit where this happens. It’s an amazing thing, but I read books and find things hot or funny or sexy or scary or happy or sad and I don’t feel they are happening to me personally. I don’t feel that I am now that person. I don’t think that I am entitled to that character’s life, and I don’t mistake that I am suddenly that age. 

Nobody, by the way, would ever say this of someone about a horror novel for teens, or anything else for teens, and amazingly, nobody would ever and has ever said this about men reading fucking Lolita, a “literature” book about a goddamned girl and the pedophile who ogled her. Well, women. But people usually tell them to shut up because literature. Nobody says this to Woody Allen or the other men who have done all kinds of nasty shit. We are talking here, in a coded way, about “older” women reading about young men having sex. Because that’s a dirty act.

It is not. I am not old. I am older, yes, and so much wiser, and I can argue like this all damn day. 

But I might not do it every day because I also have a lot of work to do. Really, to sum it up: if you don’t like it, don’t look at it. Absolutely nobody on here is the morality police and nobody is entitled to protect anyone. The odds are really good you’re fucking up and hurting a lot of people if you try.

Just be here for the ships. Your ships. And everything will be fine.

[scarwasright]

Fullmetal Alchemist (2003) Special Edition guidebook transcript, including Ed’s decoded notes

What it says on the label. The Blu-Ray special edition of FMA 03 came with a ton of cool shit, including a hardcover artbook with the character profiles originally from the DVD booklets as well as some other, “handwritten” notes from Edward. Since I know not a lot of fans got their hands on this set, I promised a WHILE ago that I would transcribe it! Someday I’ll have scans, but I don’t have access to a scanner atm.

I’ll be listing the character notes by 3 categories: Profile Text, Edward’s Notes, and Edward’s Coded Notes.

Profile Text- the brief character blurbs that were already published in the DVD guidebooks that came out in Funimation’s original localization. Most recurring characters got one.

Edward’s Notes- The book’s title page indicates that it was issued by the Amestrian State Military, and that it belongs to Ed. Little handwritten notes, presumably from Ed, are scattered throughout the character profiles. Some are silly, some are... very not silly.

Edward’s Coded Notes- Some of Ed’s notes are written in a very simple code that replaces the English characters with symbols. It’s straightforward enough that I was able to break it in about an hour - I posted a key over here.

Not included in this text are the image captions associated with the characters’ model drawings, since they don’t make any sense without context. Stuff like “Al age 7, Ed age 8.” There are also many artist notes in Japanese, and I am anything but a Japanese speaker, so no luck there.

Fair warning, there are Royed, Royai, and if you squint, Edvy jokes in the coded text. I’m just writing what’s in the book.

Full transcript behind the cut!

THE TITLE PAGE indicates that the book is military-issued, and Edward has signed his full name on it. The following page is printed with a torn page from a smaller, obviously older book. In ornate letters, it reads the verse that was written in part in the Transmutation Circle the boys tried to use to bring back Trisha:

Pale and black with false citrine, imperfect white and red, The Peacock's feathers in gay colours, the rainbow which shall go over, The spotted panther, the lion green, the Crows bill blue as lead. These shall appear before you perfect white, and many more others. And after the perfect white, grey, false citrine also, And after these, there shall appear the red body invariable, Then you have a medicine of the third order of his own kind multipliable. 

Edward’s Coded Notes: Written into the margins of the “original” military book, “Sir George Ripley,” with an arrow pointing to the pressed page. Along the side margin, he’s written “thhe* recapitulation of thhe* twelve gates.”

Explanation: Sir George Ripley is a famous British alchemist whose verse appears on this page. The full transcript of the poem Edward pasted in his book can be found here! It is also, notably, the incantation recited by Eckhart in Conqueror of Shamballa when she sought to open the Gate using Envy.

       *Two people seem to have worked on the coded notes, one on the title and transmutation circle pages and the other on the character pages. The handwriting is a bit different, and the title+circle pages are noticeably sloppier than the character pages as far as adhering to the cipher goes. The symbol used for TH in the character pages is used only for a T which is followed by an H on the title pages. In the character pages the standalone H character is absent when the TH character is used, so the inconsistency makes for an obviously unintentional duplicate on the title page.

Edward’s Notes: There are twelve tally marks in the margin of this page, as well as some scribbled equations that are difficult to make out. Ed has awful handwriting.

EDWARD ELRIC

Profile Text: Edward Elric is the Fullmetal Alchemist. He is a prodigy, becoming the youngest State Alchemist in the Army’s history. Edward stunned his superiors by using alchemy without an array, a miraculous feat never witnessed before. Ed despises being a “dog of the military,” but it grants him the opportunity to seek out the legendary Philosopher’s Stone, a crimson crystal rumored to increase the power of the alchemist who uses it.

Edward seeks the stone so that he may restore his missing limbs, and more importantly reunite his younger brother Alphonse’s body with his soul, which was tragically trapped in a suit of armor after a failed attempt through alchemy to revive the dead Trisha Elric, the boys’ mother. Edward realizes he has a gift, a gift that most State Alchemists could only dream of having. But he knows that with that gift he becomes a high profile target.

As Edward reluctantly fights off a crazed assassin who vows revenge on all State Alchemists, Edward begins to unravel the clues that reveal not all is as it seems at the highest levels of the State Military. And, that there is a terrible secret behind the precious Philosopher’s Stone.

ALPHONSE ELRIC

Profile Text: Alphonse Elric was but an innocent young child when a tragic chain of events changed his life forever. First, his father mysteriously vanished while Al was too young to remember. Then, after battling terrible illness, Al’s mother succumbed to death. Finally, during a horrific accident performing forbidden alchemy, Al’s soul was sealed inside a suit of armor.

Undaunted and unashamed by all that has happened in his short life, Al carries on, eternally supporting his older brother, Edward, in his search for the Philosopher’s Stone, a legendary gem with the power to restore Al’s body and Edward’s lost limbs. Al knows that he and his brother’s actions were wrong. He only wishes for a chance to make things right.

Edward’s Notes: In smudged, barely-legible pencil, “Brother, don’t sell me short!” (thank u @gryphcat cross-referencing your own book to confirm that it does NOT say “Brother, don’t call me short!”)

Also notable is the circled “???” with an arrow pointing to that adorable picture of young Al enthusiastically ripping off his shirt.

Edward’s Coded Notes: FYI, there isn’t anything under the loincloth, [indecipherable*]!

       *I think the letters were flubbed a bit, here. The characters read “[y/i]n[u/v][f/p]er[u/v]s.” I get the feeling it was supposed to say “Impervious!” buuuut someone messed up.

HOHENHEIM ELRIC

Profile Text: Supposedly lost to the ages, Hohenheim Elric, the father of the brothers Elric was close at hand after all, lurking in the shadows of history as the momentum of the search for the Philosopher’s Stone reached fever pitch. Hohenheim reappears in Resembool allowing the final pieces of this mad puzzle to begin falling into place, as he bears the secrets of the Philosopher’s Stone in his weary heart... A heart beaten down by lost love, a heart full of loyalty to his boys*. Destiny has delivered Hohenheim to a crucial point, a spot in time when all that is good prepares to unravel. Perhaps he will be strong enough to move forward and rise above his shady pas, nad push his shoulder against the wheel of fate that threatens to crush all he ever cared for.

       *We watched two very different series, apparently

Edward’s Coded Notes: That bastard [arrow pointing to his portrait]

TRISHA ELRIC (who shares a page with Hohenheim)

Edward’s Coded Notes: Why did they both have to die?

ROY MUSTANG

Profile Text: Roy Mustang is the Flame Alchemist and a veteran of many brutal battles. He personally knew Edward and Alphonse’s father, which sparked his curiosity once he discovered that Hohenheim’s sons were dabbling in alchemical arts. Mustang is eager to climb the ladder of success and hopes that discovering the immense talent within Edward helps him ascend the ranks. Still, Mustang’s soldiers are the most loyal in all of the State Army, insinuating that there is more to this man than his thirst for power.

Edward’s Coded Notes: Roy Mustang is dead sexy in a miniskirt!* [T]ake that [y]ou smug [b]astard!** Why does he have to be so attractive

       *Most likely a reference to an old convention gag. Back when FMA was big enough that it had dedicated cast panels, fans would almost always ask Vic Mignogna to say this line.

       **The bracketed letters are cut off, but it’s fairly easy to assume what they are given the context.

RIZA HAWKEYE

Profile Text: Riza Hawkeye is quite possibly the most perfect model of a soldier in the State Army. Although Hawkeye is Roy Mustang’s subordinate, she is also his right hand woman, acting as an advisor and, based on the circumstance, devil’s advocate. Her no-nonsense attitude demands respect from everyone she meets, military and civilian alike. She is cool, calm, and collected, and exceptionally skilled in the use of firearms.

Edward’s Coded Notes: [bridging the gap between Roy and Riza’s facing pages, underlined with an arrow] Just get married already!

MAES HUGHES

Profile Text: Maes Hughes is a Lieutenant Colonel in the Investigations Division of the State Army. Hughes is obsessively in love with his wife Gracia, and only child Elicia, who from birth shares a strange connection with Ed and Al. Hughes is friendly and extremely casual, sometimes to a fault. He can quickly lapse back and forth between discussing State matters and going on and on about his family. As a high-ranking official in the Investigations Division, Hughes is privy to plenty of top-secret info, which he shares with Ed on the sly. When Hughes is nudged into physical combat, his weapons of choice are small throwing knives, which he wields with incredible and deadly accuracy.

Edward’s Notes: [slightly obscured by water damage] I’m sorry, I never meant for any of this to happen

ALEX LOUIS ARMSTRONG

Profile Text: Major Alex Louis Armstrong was given strict orders from Mustang to protect Ed. But, don’t let his civilian clothes fool you. With his strapping build and gutsy bravado, this Strong Arm Alchemist will give his life to ensure he completes his mission successfully. If on thing’s for certain, Armstrong will make sure that Ed’s within arm’s protection.

This straight and narrow man won’t even give Ed as much as a loss in an argument. He’d rather use his genteel decorum to kill improper manners with his heroic kindness. Even during their down time in Resembool, there’s not a moment to lose. Armstrong is committed to his life as a soldier, and knows daily training is essential - even if that means cutting firewood with his bare hands.

Edward’s Notes: [circled] Why are there so many sparkles?!!

JEAN HAVOC, HEYMANS BREDA, VATO FALMAN, KAIN FUERY

Profile Text: In a world where loyalties change with the tides, good subordinates are a premium. Roy Mustang has this luxury with Havoc, Breda, Falman, and Fuery. These four loyal officers will do anything their commander requests of them and do it well, to boot. However, these four couldn’t be more different. Havoc is the tragic playboy of the group, always wishing he had that special someone to share the rest of his days. Breda may be called a “dog of the military” from time to time, but Breda would rather stare down an entire army than get anywhere near a real dog. Falman is overly formal, causing some of his comrades to wish he would lighten up. Fuery is the soft-spoken technical wizard under Mustang’s command. He isn’t used to much hand-to-hand combat, but is handy enough in a pinch. As with all of Mustang’s men, these four would follow him until death.

DENNY BLOCH AND MARIA ROSS

Profile Text: Abrasive in demeanor, Lieutenant Maria Ross is always determined to do the right thing. Sometimes, she has trouble distinguishing between her actual duties and the chance to deliver a lecture. Sergeant Denny Bloch, along with Lieutenant Ross, was given the responsibility to keep the Fullmetal Alchemist under close supervision. Regardless, they fall behind when danger approaches.

Edward’s Coded Notes: Watch out for her slap!

IZUMI CURTIS

Profile Text: The stern Izumi Curtis is more than just an alchemy teacher to the Elric brothers. As the passionate matriarch of a two-person family, Ed and Al may be the closest thing she’ll ever have to children. Resurfacing after hearing rumors about her former pupils, it is quite possible Izumi may know more than she lets on about the true nature of alchemy and the sinister homunculi.

Edward’s Coded Notes: [circled] She always looks like a pissed off housewife!

SCIESZKA

Profile Text: Scieszka is the prototypical, scatterbrained librarian. With her impeccable retention of facts, the clues that others miss quickly slide into place for this unlikely hero. Hopefully, her pleas for justice will not fall on deaf ears.

Edward’s Notes: [circled, pointing to Scieszka’s distressed portrait] Did they run out of books?

ROSE

Profile Text: The once vibrant Rose has wilted due to a hard life of tragedy and turmoil. After suffering the harshest of injustices at the hands of the State Military, Rose finds herself a mute and a mother... The mother of an infant, and the mother of a movement. Now the spiritual leader of the Liore revolutionaries and advised by the ever-present Lyra, Rose must struggle to lead her people to peace. With her beloved Liore in the crosshairs, she can only hope to find her voice in time to half the demise of everything she cared for.

Edward’s Notes: “You’ve got a good, strong pair of legs, Rose. You should get up and use them.”

RUSSEL & FLETCHER TRINGHAM

Edward’s Notes: Ed himself has drawn in the boys’ transmutation circle for plants, and has labeled it as such. He has also sketched one of their flasks and written next to it “For red water?”

Edward’s Coded Notes: Why is he so tall?!!

#48 & #66

Edward’s Notes: He has drawn the Slicer Brothers’ blood seals and labeled them. The secret behind Lab 5... ???

Edward’s Coded Notes: Prisoners!

FRANK ARCHER

Profile Text: His heart as cold as his flesh is pale, Frank Archer is willing to embrace corruption for a cause... especially if the cause is blatant self-promotion. Looking to bolster his reputation by crushing a revolt in Liore, Archer sets fate in motion with little regard for anything other than pleasing himself and the Fuhrer. His lust for war and his hunt for the infamous Scar may cloud his vision, however, as he potentially confuses sacrifice for suicide.

Edward’s Coded Notes: You [m]ight want [s]ome [s]unscreen* [indicating the image of his mech form] The Terminator?

ZOLF J KIMBLEY

Edward’s Coded Notes: Mullet?!

SHOU TUCKER

Profile Text: Shou Tucker earned the title Sewing Life Alchemist thanks in large part to his masterful work creating Chimeras for the State. In fact, Tucker was the first alchemist to produce a Chimera capable of speaking and understanding the human language. Tucker is a man with incredible brilliance and immense talent. The irony is that he can create life, but that his own is being controlled is not lost upon Shou Tucker. With his execution staged by the Military, Tucker has spent all of his time devoted to research and experimentation, with one purpose in mind: bring back the daughter he once readily destroyed.

Edward’s Notes: Because we’re not Gods, we’re humans, tiny insignificant humans. Who couldn’t even save a little girl...

Edward’s Coded Notes: I’ll never forgive that bastard.

SCAR

Profile Text: Like Ed, Scar is able to use alchemy without a transmutation circle. Scar both hates and embraces his “curse.” He has a special grudge against State Alchemists because of past atrocities towards his homeland of Ishbal. The Ishbal Massacre was a vicious military offensive against Ishbal due to conflicting doctrines because the citizens would not put aside their traditional beliefs and embrace alchemy. Scar believes his god has instilled in him the right to kill State Alchemists at will for what they have done to his people. He truly believes his cause is righteous, no matter what it takes. 

Edward’s Coded Notes: [indicating Scar’s hair] Frosted tips are over, dude... Those glasses are so dated...

LUST

Profile Text: The beautiful homunculus Lust desires to become human through the massive power of the Philosopher’s Stone. She dreams of finally finding out who she really is inside, and to discover what will happen to her after death. These are all very human traits for a being that supposedly has no soul. Lust uses any means necessary to traverse the dilemmas of her existential crisis... She is able to corrupt the minds of the weak, forcing them to follow her every whim. Like Scar and Ed, the gorgeous and sad Lust is traveling down the same whirlpool of misery and darkness that sucks away all who quest for the Philosopher’s Stone.

Edward’s Notes: [smudged, almost beyond legibility] I just hope Havoc doesn’t meet her... Edward has drawn an arrow from Lust’s locket to Scar with ???, as well as a two-way arrow between the facing pages with the writing What’s their connection?

Edward’s Coded Notes: Maybe she and Roy* should go on a date with Roy* - I heard she’s a real screamer**

       *Another seeming typo.

       **Probably a reference to Laura Bailey’s marriage to Travis Willingham, as they play Lust and Roy in the English dub. Roy is responsible for Lust’s death in the manga and second anime, and she does not go quietly.

GLUTTONY

Profile Text: Loyal homunculus companion to Lust, Gluttony, eater of anything, might be the saddest example of the cruel nature of the hunt for the Philosopher’s Stone. Simple and savage, Gluttony operates at once like a child and an animal, a creature of pure instant satisfaction. He simply knows one thing: Hunger. Not for power of prestige, but only to satisfy his reason to be... this only adds to the wretchedness of his tragic existence.

Edward’s Notes: I-DCCC-DCCI-VM?*

       *I have absolutely no idea what this is in reference to, so if anyone knows, I would LOVE an answer.

ENVY

Profile Text: Envy is one of the homunculi, a group of pseudo-humans whose creation is still an enigma. Some say they were created in a lab. Others believe they’ve always been among us. But no matter where they came from, their intention are nothing but evil. Envy has the ability to become a perfect physical replica of whomever he or she desires. Envy is without gender. In fact, Envy’s mind is so far gone that he or she can’t remember who he or she used to be. Envy’s power is truly amazing.

The shape-shifting homunculi Envy could be anyone, utilizing the ability to take on the physical appearance of any being at will. Envy will morph into a stranger behind you in a smokey cafe, or the trusted ally that works with you to uncover corruption and twisted abuses of power, or even your loving spouse. And beneath the familiar surface pure evil waits. Never turn your back on Envy. Even after you’ve slit the creature’s throat.

Edward’s Notes: Areca triandea Phoenix canariensis, Ceros nucifera Sabal minor Syogrus romanzoffiana* [next to this, Edward drew a little palm tree with a ?]

       *the binomial nomenclature for a queen palm tree

Edward’s Coded Notes: I’m not into palm trees

GREED

Profile Text: A thick-skinned enigma even among the mysterious homunculi, Greed wants it all... money, power, women, and the greatest prize of all: eternal life. Greed leads a band of outlaw chimeras and instructs his freakish minions to kidnap Alphonse Elric, believing the young alchemist is the key to the door of immortality. Headed for a brutal showdown, Ed will test the homunculus’ reputation as the Ultimate Shield. In return, Greed will test every notion Ed ever held to be true and real.

Edward’s Notes: [smudged] I wonder why Dante made him...

SLOTH

Profile Text: Draped in the appearance of the late Trisha Elric*, the water abomination Sloth was created on that fateful night of lost innocence; the night when the Elric brothers first set out in search of the Philosopher’s Stone. After being nursed and groomed by Dante and Pride, and her involvement in the slaughter of Maes Hughes, she is forced to confront Ed and Al. While cursing them for her fate, Sloth’s seemingly maternal memories and longings may provide the homunculus with her downfall... nothing in the universe is more resilient than a mother’s love. Something stirs in Sloth, where a soul once rested.

Edward’s Notes: [a two-way arrow, pointing from Sloth’s name to hand-written Juliet Douglas] [*above this line in her bio, Ed has aggressively written NO!]

Edward’s Coded Notes: [circled, with an arrow indicating the bio] She is not my mother!!!

WRATH

Profile Text: The homunculus Wrath might be the most mysterious of all the dark creatures. A volatile combination of childlike mischief and soulless evil, Wrath was discovered on a treacherous island by the Elrics and their teacher Izumi. Timid at first, Wrath’s demeanor soon shifts as layer upon layer of intrigue is peeled away, uncovering a core of supernatural madness. Able to perform alchemy, at times even in ways that Fullmetal himself doesn’t understand, it becomes clear that Wrath is a monster. His connection to Ed and Al’s teacher could provide answers to questions that are too shocking to ask.* Suspicious of the boy, Ed will give an arm and a leg to uncover the truth about the wild child.

Edward’s Coded Notes: [with an arrow pointing from the bio text Ed has underlined] It’s hers!

KING BRADLEY (PRIDE)

Profile Text: The Fuhrer King Bradley commands both the State Government and the State Army making him seemingly the most powerful man in the entire world. Known as one of the most cunning and vicious warriors in history, the homunculus Pride, the Fuhrer himself, has orchestrated countless bloody conflicts in his search for the Philosopher’s Stone. Calm, cool, collected and created by Dante... Bradley moves his pieces into striking range. Is it possible, though, that the Ultimate Eye is blind to his own role as a pawn in someone else’s sinister plot?

Edward’s Notes: He’s a homunculus that can age?!!

Edward’s Coded Notes: How did no one figure it out?!!

DANTE

Profile Text: Dante’s actions, her attempts to control the uncontrollable and manipulate innocence, have carried her through the centuries with a singular goal... immortality. At times seemingly aligned with the powers of good, while dipping her toes into the red pool of evil, Dante’s path has been one clouded by murky intentions. At the end of the quest for the Philosopher’s Stone, as all of the players look up past the strings that carried them through this desperate dance, whose face will they see?

Edward’s Notes: an arrow connects Dante’s name with Lyra, which is circled

Edward’s Coded Notes: So glad she isn’t my mom!

After the character pages, there are four pages of alchemic arrays. The writing here gets really vague, as all of it is written in Ed’s code and there are many mistakes.

The Thule Society’s array has a four letter word with an exclamation point that begins with NA, followed by the character for X and a sloppy character that is probably I/Y but looks more like a J. There are no other instances of a Z to confirm, but I think X and Z may be the same character, and it was intended to say “NAZI!”

Majahal’s array is noted with I wonder what happened to Lebi? This probably refers to Carin, Lebi being the name she took on after forgetting her past. This, too, is a bit confusing because the I/Y character also looks like a J.

Trisha’s human transmutation circle just says Sorry Mom I’m sorry...

The circle for the Underground City is noted with To open the Gate?

The Grand Arcanum Philosipher’s Stone circle is labeled “Ishbalan?” and Ed has circled it.

AND THAT IT’S FOR THE NOTES, hopefully this is of some value to... someone out there, lmao.

[ourimpavidheroine]

“Please don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you cry” for Mako and Zhi?

(I changed the wording of the sentence just a bit in this story; I hope it’s okay!)

He and Chiyo had made the arrest before dawn that morning, turning over all of their case files, the culmination of several months’ worth of work. Song had clapped the both of them on the back and told them to go home, get some sleep and he’d see them in two days. He’d stopped off for some celebratory fruit tarts and had gone home to find the house empty; Qi and Wu off to some meeting, Meili in school, Sayuri at parts unknown with Lin and LoLo. Even the maids were in the other wing, doing their twice monthly dusting. He took a long and very hot shower and came out, the bed calling him. He laid down with a sigh, closing his aching eyes. A nap before everyone returned and the house exploded with noise again.

It was only then that he heard the muffled sobbing.

He hauled himself off the bed, making his way down the hall, trying to track the sound, stopping in front of Zhi’s door. It was definitely coming from there. He hesitated a moment before knocking softly. “Zhi? Is that you?”

A bit of a scramble and then the door was opened. Zhi’s eyes were red and puffy, his glasses nowhere to be seen. “Daddy! What are you doing home?” He tried to put on a smile but he’d never, even when he was a little boy, been any good at hiding his emotions.

“You want to talk about it?”

“About what?” Again with the innocent act. Spirits knew he loved this boy, but of all his children he was the one who couldn’t lie worth a damn.

“About why you’re crying?”

Zhi’s chin quavered. “Aren’t you supposed to tell me not to cry? That you can’t stand to see me cry?” Another attempt at a smile.

He sighed and put his arm around him. “I didn’t say that. And I wouldn’t say that, either. You know me better than that.” Zhi snuffled. “What happened? You get in a fight with San or something?”

Zhi shook his head. “You know we never fight.”

“Well?”

Zhi wavered and then drew him into his room. Neat, as always; Zhi had always disliked a mess. Now that he was at University Wu had redone his room, putting in a larger desk as well as a file cabinet for his papers, that sort of thing. He took a folder off the desk and handed it over.

“What’s this?”

Zhi swallowed. “My paper on the diversity and distribution of cave-dwelling arachnids in the Omashu mountain range.”

He flipped it open, gazing down. The paper had been criss-crossed with angry red lines, notes scribbled into the margins. A ridiculous and preposterous assertion was one phrase that jumped out at him as he paged through, underlined three times, the pen strokes so deep they’d nearly torn the paper. At the end he saw that the professor had failed the paper.

His first thought, of course, was that he was going to look up this professor and fry him alive. Not the most rational of thoughts, no, but one he was feeling in the moment. He glanced up at Zhi, who was, at seventeen, nearly a head taller than him.

“I see the professor didn’t like your paper.”

“He hated it, Daddy. He shouted at me in front of the class.” Zhi’s eyes started to overflow again.

He mentally counted to ten. Must not fry the professor. Must not fry the professor. Must not fry the fucking shit for brains professor. “Did he give a specific reason or was it just general shouting?”

“He told me that I was merely a boy and had no business disputing the work of my academic betters.” Zhi fumbled for his glasses on the desk and shoved them back on.

“Is that true?”

“Is what true?”

“Do you think that you have no business disputing the work of anyone else in your field?”

Zhi’s chin went up. “He was talking about the work of Professor Prasert. He wrote a book about the invertebrates of the Omashu mountains fifty years ago.”

“And?”

“And he was a good researcher for his time but he got some things dead wrong!” Zhi stabbed at the paper. “For one thing, he speculated that there were hairy-legged spider centipedes in those caves but that’s all it was, speculation! But he included it in his book without ever even seeing a single specimen!” Zhi whirled and slapped his hand on the detailed map that took up half his bedroom wall, a gift on his thirteenth birthday from Su and Baatar. “And he wouldn’t see one, anyhow, because It’s too wet in those caves! Those are desert dwellers, and the climate is completely wrong there!”

He nodded. He didn’t know a spider centipede from a hole in the ground, but he knew his son did. Zhi grabbed what he assumed was the offensive text in question and shook it before tossing it back down on the desk.

“It’s not that speculation is wrong. It has its time and place. But to include it in a definitive guide? In a textbook?” He threw his hands into the air. “That’s sloppy science. Bad science! I may only be a boy, but even I know that!”

He gazed at him for a moment, this brilliant boy on the cusp of manhood, passionate and fragile, throwing himself into everything with his heart on his sleeve. He loved him so much; he’d come to understand, over the years, why his own father had always bragged about his schoolwork, telling the neighbors or anyone else that would listen how smart his Mako was. He felt the exact same way about his Zhi. “Sounds to me like you disagree that a boy has no business disputing the work of anyone else.”

Zhi took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, fingers resting lightly on the frames of his glasses. “I do disagree, Daddy. It’s not about age. It’s about the work.” He dropped his hand. “I have the right to my theories, especially when they’re backed by rigorous fact. I won’t let him tell me otherwise.”

“Good. That’s what I want to hear.” He put his arm around him and pushed him gently towards the door. “Come on, I have something for you. Keep talking, I want to hear about this.”

Zhi told him, as they descended the stairs, how the professor had attempted to humiliate him in front of the class, reading passages of his paper aloud, ranting until one of the students, a young woman from the Southern Water Tribe had stood up in disgust, told the professor she was there for an education, not the spiteful ramblings of an old man, and had left. The professor had been so incensed at this that he’d forgotten about him until the end of class, throwing his paper at him as the students filed out.

“I don’t think I’d be brave enough to do that!”

“Well, Southern Water Tribe women are pretty feisty, take it from me.” He smiled, and nodded Zhi towards the table, taking the tarts out of the icebox and putting them on a plate. He’d bought enough for everyone, but this was an emergency situation. “Here.”

“Thanks!” Zhi took a large bite as he sat down next to him, taking one for himself. Three bites and it was gone and he was looking hopefully at the plate. Mako shoved it across to him and Zhi took a second.

“So what are you going to do about it?” He took a bite of his own.

“Do you mean the class?”

“Yep.”

Zhi chewed thoughtfully. “I don’t know.” His grin lit up his face. “If Papa knew he’d call the chancellor and demand she fire him.”

He had to chuckle at that. “You’re probably right. Your father usually goes straight for revenge.”

“I guess that’s a Hou-Ting thing.”

“Trust me.”  He finished off the rest of his tart. Zhi was on his third. “You know I only got a year of school before Grandma and Grandpa died, yeah?”

“That wasn’t your fault, though.”

“No, it wasn’t, but it is what it is. I never got any firebending training, either. Well, not the official kind, I mean. The way LoLo learned, or Korra.”

“How could you, on the streets?” Zhi looked down at the plate. “Don’t you want another one?”

He smiled. “I’m good. Help yourself.” He watched him take his fourth tart, slowing down a bit. “The point I’m trying to make is that pretty much everything I’ve learned in my life I’ve learned on my own. I’m not a scholar like you or Wu, but I can read and write, I do okay. And my firebending’s more than okay. I learned from who I could when I could and taught myself the rest.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “I’ve heard a lot, over the years, about how my firebending’s wrong. It’s not traditional, no. But it isn’t wrong. It does what I need it to, and I do it better than most.” A scoff. “Your sister being an exception.”

“But she’s learned from you too.”

“Also true. The thing is…I’m forty-three years old, Zhi. And there are still people telling me that I’m doing it the wrong way. All of it. I don’t fit into the nice boxes folks want to put me in. I’m a former triad member turned cop. I’m a nobody off the street that married a prince. I’m a firebending master without a master. My life pisses some people off.”

“What do you do about it?”

“I don’t do anything about it. There’s nothing to be done. I am who I am. Whether or not people approve of it or even like me is not really something I can do much about.” He leaned back in his chair to snatch at a pile of freshly pressed napkins and handed one over. “Thing is, Zhi, that not everyone you meet is going to like you. They’ll think you’re snotty because you studied at home and have a prince for a father. Or they’ll feel threatened by your smarts. Or hell, I don’t know, maybe they have something against people who are as tall as trees.” That got him a little smile. “Long and the short of it, you’d best just get used to it. Most of those people, they won’t be interested in the real you, they’ll have already made up their minds and that’s it. It’s not right and it’s not fair but it’s how the world works. I wish it wasn’t, but it is.”

Zhi thought this over, fingers absently folding and re-folding the napkin. “So what you’re saying is that I should stay in the class?”

“Does that professor have something you want to learn?”

“Well, I thought he did.”

“Then learn what you can from him and discard the rest.”

“But what if he fails me?” The napkin was getting quite a workout.

“Then he fails you. And your life will go on. And one day, sooner rather than later, knowing you, you’ll pass him up and he can choke on your dust.”

Again with that smile. “Maybe Papa’s not the only one that likes revenge.”

“Well, at least I wouldn’t stab the man in a dark alley somewhere.”

“Do you really think Qi would?” Zhi’s eyes widened.

“Son, I ask Qi no questions and Qi tells me no lies. That’s why we get along as well as we do.” One of the reasons, anyhow. He reached his hand across the table to cup Zhi’s cheek. “You think about it, okay? But whatever you decide - stay in his class or don’t - just know that I’ll support you. Either way.”

“Thanks, Daddy.” Zhi’s eyes filled up again. He stood and brought up his other hand, cradling his face and kissing his forehead, just like he had when he was little.

“You’re welcome. Now that you ate most of my tarts I’m going to go upstairs and get an hour or two of sleep before everyone comes home and starts making noise. I’ve been up for nearly twenty-four hours now, I’m about to drop. Just do me a favor and take the rest of them upstairs with you, though, because if your sisters find out you got tarts and they didn’t that’s all we’ll hear for the rest of the night.”

Zhi popped one whole in his mouth. “Only two more to go.” Crumbs sprayed. Mako just shook his head, smiling, stifling a yawn.

“Don’t let your father catch you.” Zhi caught up with him, and balancing the plate with the remaining two tarts in his hand, slung his arm around his shoulders as they walked back up the stairs.

[hyacinth-halcyon-blog]

Hi! I am a complete novice but lately I've been drawn to heathenry (I used to be hellenic but fell out of practice). I don't even know the absolute basics yet. Where's a good place to start? I have the Poetic and the Prose Eddas in my Amazon cart, but is there anything else? I know very little about the gods. Thank you so much!

Those are some good places to begin! 

Personally I would recommend beginning with the Poetic Edda and fill up your copy with notes. Underline the shit out of stuff, write things in the margins, etc. Then do the same with the Prose Edda. And then make your own notes on the gods from your readings. Reason being is that there are tons of resources out there but they can be filled with UPG (unverified personal gnosis) about said gods and they often don’t note what is UPG and what is ‘canon’. This can be really confusing and misleading to a beginner trying to figure their way around this stuff. So I recommend sticking to the basic material for the first bit of your learning if you can. This way you can make more informed decisions when you encounter UPG. I realize this is kinda work intensive and might be difficult for some but unfortunately with the toxic nature of much of this community, it currently remains the best and safest route for a beginner. If you need to, take your time as there’s no rush or time limit on this stuff. Obv there are trustworthy people you could ask for help and if you know someone ask them. But if you’re a real newcomer to the community and have no one, it’s sadly safest to build your resources on your own.

After reading the eddas, then I would find a good Norse mythology and culture textbook to read. An outdated but still reasonably solid book you could use is The Lost Beliefs of Northern Europe by Hilda Ellis Davidson. That links to a pdf of it I found online whoops. There are more up to date books but if you’re short on money like I am this is still a good option for beginning. She gives some good info on the more common gods and their historical cults. It should give you a pretty solid foundation to begin with.

If you are interested in less major gods, like say... idk, Forseti, you’ve got a few options. Looking around for devotees of theirs is probably your best bet. Ask them for info on the god and how they deal with the lack of information on them. You could also do research yourself into the god, obviously. Depending that might be difficult if you lack access to things, but google scholar is your friend and public so there is that option. The last option is the least... concrete but not necessarily less valid. You can always just kinda go for the woo approach and see what comes to you. Usually a mixture of these techniques is most effective to get to know any god but especially for less common ones.

I hope this helps :x

[misterbitches]

Im not intelligent at all. In the conventional sense. The ramblings of a girl who just has sooo much going in in her head it's constant. But im not a genius. Or that confusing.

It just sounds like I am bc fandoms have this issue where they can JUSTSO point out the issues in soletiing. They can pick and prod and go oh problematic! But then you go to name the problems and the difficulties within society like for ex: the idea of representation in general. Salivating over it. How fucking sad that is. How we are trained to accept it. So in a BL and also RACE in the bl genre they exploit viewers naivete both domestically and internationally. Ive seen tons of people liken being asian to being a person of color. However, in their predominantly homogenous society (or intentionally publically homogenous society), they are not "poc" (also name the of color; i dont use bipoc idc if u do but it's called being asian guys cos yall aint talkin about black ppl lmao)

They as humans seeing other humans who look like them everywhere, engage with the world differently than an american in asia or asians living outside of their home country (like bae doo nanwhen she worksnin the US is not the same as the bae doo nanworking on a korean program) I dont complain about it in everything i see bc ppl say it ALL THE TIME. but it is NOT the same. Being a person of color is very distinctly an american concept. This is all stuff people will get to know on their own if they choose to dig more.

I do my best to underline what my ugly little eyes process. How i figure things out as a black female american artist too! Im hard on shit cos i should be. I take it seriously. And even if i dont take it seriously bc THEY dont then thats their problem.

I know this is a complaint that I am not alone in. I know it's the internet. I just don't get how people can write really heavy analysis but they refuse to actually probe the underlying issues. Not everyone is me, or like my friends, but if there's way fewer people talking about this stuff it seems absolutely glaring when theres few people engaging in the way i do. It seems like im the glitch but I am thinking just as much just differently.

I really loved where your eyes linger but there was little deep class analysis. I remember few convos a bout it. I know a lot about korea (sigh being a black ex kpop fan lol mess) and i love the history but all ofnit matters! Korea's relation to labor!

People bringing up thai actors snd actresses leaving the industry and doing acting as something quick. As an artist~ who went to film school with insanely wealthy ppl and isnin tons of debt you have to understand how shitty that is. People have monetary access and they just fucking do whatever just because they want to. Meanwhile you have young people being coerced into this bullshit mainstream life to LITERALY just make money bc they dont come from a rich background. The wealth gap in thailand is BAD, theres a dictatorship, they had a fucking coup. The governments like here do not respect their people. Their marginalized groups. Trans thai women, black thai ppl, poor thai ppl. And it LITERALLY CANNOT DO ANYTHING EFFECTIVELY IN CAPITALISM. No nothing can be perfect but if it's going into our eyeballs and we can view the worlld critically then why the fuck not!???

I dont say the things i see are wrong always. I reply when i think i need to. I try and engage with others but not to kuch avail. I just want to rb stuff and tdhink lajfhhdjwhjej.

But like yea theres a lot of just wrong or misguided stuff. A lot of the times it is just historical inaccuracy in framing or idk. A refusal to think outside the box. I dont care. Theres more to life than just sort of looking and not thinking especially for othrr artists.

Idk im sorry. I dont see how i can change how i view things. I really wish people would expand their palettes too and go deeper into other means of art from places! Things not in the mainstream! Theres a lot of good thai artists and a lot of them critical as fuck about their country as they should be. Authority, austerity, patriarchy, capital, racism etc like that is central to a power thats interested in growing gains and fiscal and social power. Theres rly radical or left leaning etc ppl out there in the world and these countries in these communities. So they exist. No people in these countries dont have NO clue whats going on. Cultural relativism is alsos something people should understand. I had a good talk with ppl on here a while ago about that. Talking about shit, critiquing, but being respectful to a group. Part of thay is realizing these groups CLEARLY know their own issues and all our cultures share the same goal. Guess what it is. It rhymes with acquiring wealth. Money means you hurt people. In the post, we talked about use of "wife" and "husband" which is a stupid joke that has been "explained" a billion times and yet the explanations still dont seem to answer or justify a minor problem (it's very funny to me that a language that doesnt have gendered pronouns is now very specific about two men. Hmmm wonder why. It is annoying.)

So im not the only person on the planet doing this. Or the few ppl ive seen that do. Im not new my thoughts arent new. Ive gotten to see another side to a culture i knew not much about and that means i can put the context of my beliefs and life and try and understand thheirs. For ex i learned from ITSAY because of a sign that said 'french food' that they were the only country to not be colonized back then. Do you know how integral that history is to their region? That was an interesting detail (i didnt finish itsay bc ihad a lot going on and i was rly upset that i would see hownrich they are and i hate that.)

Anyways thats my complaint. It used to feel like a sting of rejection. I left online for months in 2019, i started organizing more, joined a union, trying to do some panther work shit like that. I learned a lot in those months and it changed my life! But when I came back, I felt so isolated. It wasnt my true friends tho sometimes theyre ANNOYINGGGGG (love u) but it was me being like "if we are going to complain guys then lets put our money where our mouth is" lets be fucking serious about it then. No say it with your chest dude. It isnt difficult. Go with the fucking flow, talk about it, critique it, think. You can still fucking like itnor love it.

I am BLACK ok and i love rap. I am a black woman. I will continue to clown black men that cant seem to not clown themselves and listen. No i wont support monetarily: drake is a creep and i hate him but i bump that niggas song. Thats fucking LIFE. I got so sick of hiding myself and it became clear that it wasnt that i wasntthinking well or hard enough. They just didnt like that i said we need to commit class suicide and inspect out middle class sensibilities and middle class wealth hoarding (google it) if thats what we engaged with. Every part of you, antagonize it. I still have my privileges; class, skin color, even my father being a nigerian immigrant, me being cis, im not str8 but not a lesbian and those are differences.

Insecurities in general but some shallow thoughts (?) on discussion in "fandom" space. FYI, this will most likely stay the same. I tend to stay in my own bubble socially IE me and my friends are similar in our views. During this awful year while running my union's account, im surrounded by like minds. Me and my friends? We changed together. We grew up and saw what we didnt like and what we want. We do our best.And i CHOOSE my life to be that way bc it should be. There is no solution. I dont believe in solutions because the solution is to abolish capital or just divest. Abolishing capital and labor are a huge one and i will die before that happens (but so help me as long as im alive? Black women to FREEDOMMMM is my motto!) so making your own path in life is the best thing an artist can do IN MY OPINION.

However with technology and stuff this puts another layer onto things. Tech, social media, this shit....it THRIIIIIIIVESSSSSSS off of conflict and shallow readings of the world. We are literally primed for it. Engagement in bites. Impossible for me with my brain; i got used to it and i paid for it by limiting my scope. Not being encouraged to THINK AND READ before just speaking

(For ex i am in iww, i helped form a branch here. It is a radical union. Unionism is imprative to me-if ur interested u should read up on some. Look up peter cole! Google inthesetimes Ilwu. Gives you some understanding. Ive always been progressive and now i am....very left idk ic ant label myself. But even in my progrssiveness i had the gall to tell my white friend, whoa has her privileges but i had mine with our class disparity, that we dont need unions, i have WORKED retail. Ive done barista work for sonoing and i do gig work. So i wasnt out of touch. I had been stiffed even with a shoot i was working on by rich kids. So i had a frame of reference . But i didnt know what the FUCKa union was and why it is imperative. Then learning about anarcho syndicalism and all these other things. It changed my fucking life but two years earlier i was this idiot spouting shit like that making one of my best friends fucking upset. We DO AND CAN CHANGE. Think!!!!)

So were i a creator for tv id just constantly try and push the buttons if i need big money. Make them sell into me (thank you sonic youth!) theres Endless possibilities guys which means theres SO MUCH TK EXPLORE!!!! When i wanna have fun with it i just have fun. When i want to think i do. I dont understand why we are so dedicated to upholding things and doing mental gymnastics to end up in a space you dont need mental gymnastics for. What about these critiques makes you uncomfortable? Saying we're all part of the problem as spectators? Im sorry but we will always be. Thats LIFE. God fuck. Fuck me. I feel so fucking worthless and stupid sometimes. I know I am not. I know i am talented and intelligent. I know my friends and family. I know how to approach ppl. I know how to tell people if they are rich but want to be progressive whatsup. I choose how i live part of that is being ok to say what i want.

Ironically consrrvatives say this shit alot. But they arent ever alone bc their ideology is default. But yea it does feel shitty. It even feels shitty when ur in left circles but people STILL dont even wanna do that. These perspectives really arent ss many as they should be. I dont want to feel so alone with it. I know there are more. I just love art and the world so fucking much, endless possibility. Endless pain but endless good.