#and this entire fandom is built upon trying to make what could have been

[ghoulishautism]

Im back on my bullshit soap box again but-

I think we only have this big of a problem of the massive disconnect between fanon and canon in Danny Phantom because we actively discourage people from wanting to watch the show.

And I can't even blame people...we like to talk a lot about the problems the show has (racism, sexism, fumbled writing, missed opportunities, a show with inconsistent worldbuilding, Butch Hartman-) but in turn I think it turns people away from ever getting into it.

If they already know they like the fan content, and they hear the real show has all of these problems, why should they waste their energy investing in something they were told they wouldn't like?

[cheesus-doodles]

New Year with You

Yandere Rollo

Masterlist | TWST Masterlist | Letters

‎‎

continuation from my other Rollo fic Letters, but can be read as a standalone as well!

good time to mention that I have been and am on a current semi-hiatus as I've kind fallen off all my fandoms at the same time, but i'm slowly working my way back! thank you for your support so far!

Two hours and forty five minutes down, fifteen minutes left.

“Still can’t believe you actually came all the way,” you said over the cup of hot chocolate copper between both hands as you glanced around the Isle of Sages' crowded main town square, the stone paved area jam packed with people inching past each other. This was certainly no place that one would usually find the Nobel Bell’s Student Council President. “I can’t even spend all night here. You shouldn’t have.”

But Rollo could hear the genuine appreciation in your voice for all his efforts, if you were even trying to hide it. “It’s no bother,” the white-haired boy responded, his usual purple robe and striped cap having been forgone for an elegant black long coat and pressed trousers, one pale hands tucked into a pocket and the other holding a matching cup as narrowed green eyes tailed a laughing couple who brushed past you. Tainting your perfect otherworldly self with their disgusting stench of a magical world they could never run from, a sin he would have incinerated them for, but he took a deep breath and tore his eyes away. Focus. “Barely an inconvenience.” 

A lie.

The sheer amount of arrangements Rollo had to make just to be present here aside from the letters with strict instructions to you was something he would never disclose. The previous trip he made a week ago to scout out the place that he told his vice president was a research trip, the contingency plans he had in place so that your wretched schoolmates wouldn’t interrupt him, the entire flow of activities, locations and conversations he had all planned out in his mind in the weeks leading up to this - but you didn’t need to know any of that. 

No, everything had been carefully planned with one goal in mind: to make sure you had the perfect countdown with him. Nothing that Malleus and his cronies would be able to top.

Lifting his cup to thin lips to take a careful sip, the stoic Noble Bell student watched steam curling lazily into the windless air, the hustle and bustle of the masses blending into the background as people jostled for the best spots to catch fireworks. Filthy magic-laden fireworks, but Rollo had already scouted a quiet spot where you would have an unblocked view. He just had to make sure that you stayed till then.

‎‎

Time had flown by like water - you had been here at 9.30pm sharp, as per requested by his latest letter, but he had managed to burn and wheedle down the hours and minutes to just the last few minutes to midnight. Presenting the bouquet of flowers and your favourite pie that he had brought for you: ten minutes. A leisurely stroll around the fountain, followed by a planned sit and chat: another seventy-five minutes down. The queue for hot chocolate: thirty minutes, the queue carefully joined behind two individuals who hemmed and hawed at the counter. 

“Are you at least staying until the countdown?” He asked smoothly as he turned away from the fountain that occupied the center of the square and began to walk. You followed, because of course you did, and Rollo slowed his stride when he noticed you doing those little short runs to keep up.

“Um, I don’t know,” you answered uncertainly as the two of you came upon the small alcove built into the old stone wall, with a scattering of couples lingering along the sidewalk bordering the mariana. “Some of my friends are hosting a countdown party back at Ramshackle-”

Rollo sneered before he could catch himself, though he decided to simply play into it instead of making up excuses; you would certainly see through his act before he’d be able to convince you otherwise, considering what he had attempted to already do to them back in Fleur City.  “You wouldn’t be able to make it back in time,” he stated coolly, free hand shooting out to steady you when you stumbled on a protruding stone tile. “Not without…running. Fast.”

You gaped for a moment at him, before bursting into giggles. No doubt not only at his awkward pause, but also the absurdity of a mage suggesting running. He hadn’t rehearsed that, but the way your face lit up as you laughed made the stutter slightly more bearable. “Alright then,” you agreed. “Guess I’ll head back after the countdown instead.”

Well. That was easy enough. Another milestone in his disruption of Malleus’ plans achieved.

‎‎

The view here of the town square was impeccable, because of course it was. On one side, a gentle breeze blew in from the sea, the horizon where sea and sky met lost in the dark of night, the glittering reflection of stars swallowed by the dancing waves washing up against the sea cliff far below. And on the other, the town floor spread out beneath the two of you like a picnic mat, the numerous people mulling about blending into waves, their conservations and the music from the live band blending into the hustle and bustle of a busy background that only grew and grew into an almost coordinated swell of numbers as midnight approached.

“Three! Two!” Rollo kept silent as he watched you cheer along.  “One!”

Your eyes shimmer in that unmistakable way that betrayed your excitement as fireworks whizzed into the sky, bursting into a multitude of colored flowers with a life on their own granted by magic. The Noble Bell Student Council President reaches over to gingerly tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear in a calculated move. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year!” You returned, toasting your cup at Rollo and giggling when the cocoa from your cup splashed slightly onto the ground, before returning to admire the blooming fireworks against the starry night sky. “They’re beautiful!”

“Indeed.” The white-haired boy replied without glancing away from you. His plan to rid the world of magic and Malleus was advancing nicely with every play he made, but maybe, he had some space for you, where you had wheedled yourself into the hollow in his chest.

[creatingblackcharacters]

Hi Ice! This one is maybe a little on the outskirts of 'creating Black characters', but it is related to the introspective questions you posted a little while back, so I thought I'd ask for your opinion. I'm sure this isn't an one-easy-answer thing, so I'd love to hear from any other Black people reading this as well!

I'll try to keep it short.

I'm seven years and 300k+ words deep in a fanfiction about anthropomorphic animal characters, and your introspective questions made me face the fact that I've been the ignorant fandom racist. I wrote my main character as white. Now, 7 years later, I stumble over a post pointing out ... those are locs

I don't know if the authors intended for this character to be Black (nonblack voice actors, supplementary material also clearly doesn't draw him this way, though that stuff was all over the place re: consistency) and I frankly also am not sure if they Should have, given his role in the narrative, but a) that's not really up to me to speak on and b) he's got locs and mostly black fur and was inspired by Anubis. I've been whitewashing, there's no way around it.

I briefly considered going back and just straight up changing the story to make him Black, but I quickly realized that I have been writing him from a white-centered narrative and just slotting a Black character into that would arguably be Worse. Or at least racist in a brand new way. I can change how he takes care of his hair, but not the themes on which the entire narrative is built upon. I've been writing about a white man and I can't just pretend I haven't.

So my question to you is ... what now? How do I best acknowledge this? Do I just quietly come to terms with the fact that this story is racist and do better next time? I would like to acknowledge it in some way, I have a small but loyal audience and if I could use that platform to start a conversation (or just put out a 'hey, don't be like me') that would ... maybe at least be better than nothing? Possibly?

I know there's not a simple solution here that will Fix It, but I thought I'd ask an actual Black person who's open to educating what might be a good next move. Maybe avoid making another, new White Person Blunder. Here's to hoping.

I really appreciate all you do, your blog rocks and so do you.

Is that Shadow?

Okay, so I had to have a conversation with Hot Chocolate on this one because this one's a doozy! I appreciate that you're willing to stop and reflect though. Most people wouldn't be willing to do so this far in!

Admittedly, the fact that you're seven years into this means this will require a lot of effort. And, tbh, I might be confused bc I cannot tell what that character is 😅 So! After some thought, here's what we came up with:

Take a hiatus. Point blank period. Take a BREAK, do not pass go, do not collect $200! Idk what lore you've written, but you've written a lot of it. Take as long as you need to reread your works, and see if at any point you ever made it clear that this was a white person, or anything other than the Black character you now think they should be. If it feels undefined, where you can turn "hair" into "locs" or add in small details, then that could be your smooth way out. It doesn't have to be massive changes, but it could help. It'll take you time, for sure! But you dug seven years in, it's gone take you time to dig out. Maybe if you skim 15k words a week (or ctrl-F it for hair, for examples), that's... 20 weeks? Go at your own pace, faster or slower.

Unfortunately this happens a lot, where influences for characters will be taken from cultures of colors and improperly represented (the "African" god from Genshin). That's just a fact. So I don't necessarily blame you for the confusion, but... Now you know.

If possible, get a sensitivity reader! Preferably a Black one. Ngl, given the massive amount of work, you're likely going to have to pay them. Maybe give them half and you take half. Idk, but let another pair of eyes look at your work. Or maybe there's a Black reader that you could speak to and see how they feel about the potential change.

Should you choose to keep going, just try to be more purposeful and intentional about that character's Blackness. Definitely tell your readers what you figured out, why it's important to you, and then move forward from there.

Now, RECOGNIZE that many of them will NOT be pleased! That's kind of the thing about opening your eyes when it comes to racism in media! A lot of people will NOT be happy that you decided to be more intentional, especially if they've been imagining their favorite white guy for seven years. You're going to have to weigh your integrity and your will to create against that. People might leave, people that you thought were cool AF until it was time to show true colors. Be ready for that.

But that's just what I would do 🤷🏾‍♀️

[puzzledcretin]

Sunflower

(written for @tmnt-write-fight for @tigerthespahget )

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Prompt: Sunflower duo (ROTTMNT Mikey & Miles Morales’ SpiderMan) Word Count: 3,360

Read On AO3

“Needless to say, I’m keeping her in check. She was a bad-bad, nevertheless. Callin’ it quits now, baby. I’m a wreck. Crash at my place, baby, you’re a wreck.”

Mikey sprinted across the rooftops of New York City. Keeping to the shadows, much like he had been taught as a child. His feet stayed light on the half walls, avoiding the patches of gravel. Originally, he had come up to the city to tag some walls downtown. Slowly, Mikey was trying to make a name for himself above ground.

Sure, his art was well known underground. However, he was starting to lose faith in his brother’s opinions. Could you blame him? He loved his brothers, more than anything in the world, but they were his brothers! They did not have to love all of his work, and he was sure there were certain pieces that they didn’t care for, but they were obligated to at least pretend. 

But on the surface? On the surface, there was opportunity! People from all walks of life and not the narrow, suffocating view of the sewers. People could see his work and he could get new, fresher opinions. 

At first, he wasn’t sure how he was going to do it. Despite everything that happened, being friendly with humans was still somewhat frowned upon by his brothers. It was.. Weird. They had plenty of human or human adjacent friends, but there was something about remaining hidden that seemed so important for their survival. He understood why, but it made making friends one of the most difficult tasks in the entire world. 

That is why Mikey got himself a fancy new phone (needed it after dropping it off the empire state building, don’t ask) and signed up for social media! Because that couldn’t go wrong, could it?

AngelofNewYork Lvl 16, Sagittarius I put the razz in razzamatazz! Posts: 140 Followers: 11 Following: 248

Okay, so it wasn’t exactly popping off the way he was hoping it would. But! That was fine! Because on occasion, he will see his graffiti popping off on other accounts. The tag #graffitiofnewyork, #graffitiphotography, and #artistsinnewyork were all some of his favorites to patrol. People didn’t know they were his but he loved seeing other people take pictures of his work.

It wasn’t like.. All good, you know? Yeah, a lot of the time he saw people praising his work. It looked cool, it meant this or that. Everyone had an opinion, but it seemed like lately he was seeing more and more criticism than he was used to. 

“Whose toddler stole the paint cans”

“Y r the shit artists anon??”

“F”

“This is fuckign vandelism! Arrest this dejenerat!”

… Yeah. And that was fine, he could get over that. Trolls were not something that typically got under his skin, not really. But what does get under his skin is seeing other artists on the scene. Ones who see his art and criticize it to hell and back.

And he gets it. He gets it! Not everyone is going to like his art. Sometimes, Mikey didn’t even like his own art. But it is a disappointment, it does cause him to drag his feet when it comes to the next project. 

Mikey grinned beneath his mask. It was an orange respirator, something to protect his lungs from the paint particles. Raph and Leo mandated it, Donnie built it. Such is most of the equipment that winds up in his hands. 

Along his waist, Mikey had an array of colors hooked along a belt. Ah!! Yes, his belt. It matched his respirator, bright orange with a butt ton of colors sprayed over it! It was the best way he found to transport his paints but!! It served a double purpose! Mikey was dipping his toes in the fashion pools, and that meant extravagant fashions and unique pieces!

All of which meant nothing to someone trying to remain incognito. So, unfortunately, Mikey was in dull, dark colors. He was wearing cargo pants and a hoodie. Both of which really were not very fashion forward but they hid the whole turtle thing, so it was working. But, we digress. This is not about fashion, though it could be, it is about art! Not that fashion isn’t art but-

Art. Mikey’s art. 

The young turtle leapt down from the rooftop, falling into a roll as his momentum carried him through it. He paused as he stood in front of the midtown tunnel entrance. Cars were passing slowly but at this time of night, they were either too busy trying to get home or onto some of their own seedy business to care about what some kid was doing.

If Mikey were a better kid, he’d investigate more. But right now he wasn’t a hero. 

He slowly walked into the tunnel, his hands pushed deep into his pockets as he walked deeper. The lights were a hazy orange-yellow, and Mikey was quietly noting to himself that his beautiful golden spray would not be useful in this light, but in his secret spot it would stand out. As he walked deeper into the tunnel, the sounds became amplified around him. The distant sounds of cars bounced off the walls and soaked into his skin. His walking turned to bouncing as he grew closer to his ideal spot. A maintenance door around a quarter of the way through. Mikey had scoped it out a while ago, it was the perfect place to put up a tag. As he came up on the door, Mikey pulled it open with ease and squeezed his way inside. He made sure to shut the door behind him, looking at the large room that was opened up to him. 

Right across from him, a large cement wall stood clear. He’d have to be worried about drippage but other than that? There was a large crack that settled diagonally. It ran from the upper left all the way down to the lower right, it was clear cut. 

It was the perfect canvas. 

Mikey pulled the first can out of his belt, shaking it violently. The small metal ball clattered against the sides over and over until Mikey felt the pigment within was mixed enough. With a pinch of his fingers, the cap popped off and clattered off to the side of the room, to be forgotten.

Then, he got to work. 

Today, Mikey had a personal goal. He was going to paint some of the sickest birds you have ever seen in your entire life. Mikey pulled out his crumpled up sketchbook paper as he got close to the wall, testing a spray or two before he started his outline. He was using a dark gray, something to be covered up later. 

And on went the layers, slowly but surely. Mikey loved spray painting, it made his brain go outside the box rather than stay inside its constrictions. He had to really focus on what was going where. But that’s why he was using a template. 

Time seemed to stop existing in that room, Mikey didn’t know how long he was down there. But he did know that, eventually, he came to a point where he was pleased with what he had done. He took a huge step back, letting the golden can drop to his side as he observed the scene right before him. Golden doves flying out of the crack in the wall, strong and powerful against the dull concrete. Mikey grinned, his hands moving to his hips. 

“Thinkin' in a bad way, losin' your grip. Screamin' at my face, baby, don't trip. Someone took a big L, don't know how that felt. Lookin' at you sideways, party on tilt.”

Mikey pulled out his phone, angling it as best he could to get the doves all in at once. As his finger hovered over the capture button, light appeared at the corner of his vision. 

Something strong was coming, that’s all Mikey knew, but he didn’t have time to react before a dark mass shot out of the light source and crashed into him. His phone went flying off in some distant direction, a flash of its own and the distinct shutter of the camera app were the only indications that it was still functional. 

Mikey tumbled to the floor, groaning as his own arm smacked him across the face. Had he been hit with a missile? Is that what happened?

Mikey slowly lifted his head up from the floor when he heard a groan that mirrored his own. 

“Leo..?”

“Whose Leo?”

The two figures froze as they stared at each other. Mikey.. Did not recognize this person. Their mask- At least he hoped it was a mask- was black with a spiderweb pattern. Eyes rimmed with a red fabric.

“Who are you??” Mikey questioned, very quick to leap up to his feet. The other figure pushed himself up, holding both his hands up quickly. Mikey felt the itch in his palms, the need to pull his weapon out and defend himself from this stranger. Especially because he could see some kind of device smoking from his wrist.

“It’s okay! I’m Spider-Man!” The stranger shouted, causing Mikey to cock his head to the side. 

“Spider-Man?? Who is that??” He questioned. 

The figure’s arms seemed to falter for a moment, his own head cocking to the opposite side. “You.. You don’t know who Spider-Man is? You know, webslinging hero of New York? Actually- Are we in New York City? Does New York exist?? Am I in Fallout??” 

Mikey blinked slowly at the figure, trying to figure out what this guy was babbling about. A.. A hero? Like in a comic book? He feels like he should be surprised, he really should. But somehow, compared to everything else, this somehow just seemed to make sense to him. Mikey didn’t understand the Fallout bit- but then he remembered his respirator. 

“Oh! No! No, no! I was just painting, no nuclear fallout at all!” Mikey shouted as he reached up and pulled his mask off without thinking. “See? Completely normal!”

“... You’re a turtle,” The stranger said slowly, his eyes turning into slits. Mikey looked down at mask then back up at them. 

“Okay, so not normal! But everyone else is! .. You aren’t panicking.” Mikey noted, his own eyebrows drawing together. 

“Well, no.. I mean, you are pretty weird- No offense! But uh.. I’ve seen a lot of weird stuff through my travels..” Their hand moved up to rub at the back of their neck.

“Travels…?”

Their eyes shot open, then they shook their head. “Isn’t it actually your turn to tell me something about you? Like uh, your name?”

“I’m Michelangelo, but everyone just calls me Mikey!” The turtle responded, holding his hand out, “I guess it’s nice to meet you… Spider-Man?”

“Gah- You know what? Call me Miles,” 

And just like that, the stranger had a name. 

Miles reached out, smacking his hand against Mikey’s. As if the two had done it thousands of times before, their fingers curled around each other in a secret handshake. The two stared at their hands for a long moment before Mikey pulled back first. Had they met somewhere before? Likely not, but Mikey couldn’t help but grin at this immediate connection. Maybe, they could be friends. 

“So, um, do you come through portals often?” Mikey questioned, leaning over to the side to look behind Miles. But the area around him was void of any light from before. Miles looked over his shoulder.

“Huh? Oh! No, not really. I mean, I do on occasion, yeah, but usually I try to stay home. You know, not trying to get in trouble. I just uh.. I guess the villain, his name is Electro..? Well, he fried this watch my friend gave me and.. Now I’m here.” Miles said, gesturing to the smoking device on his wrist. 

“... Can you get home..?” Mikey questioned, placing his hands on his hips. Miles’ eyes widened and he very quickly pulled the watch before his eyes, tapping at the screen as it flickered rapidly. “No.. No! Come on..” Miles muttered, brushing his hand against his face. 

“I.. Well, I can, but also I can’t. Here if I just..” Miles pressed the button on the side of the watch, listening to it chime for a moment. “That should give my location to my friend.. She can come get me, but until then..” 

Miles looked around, “You said you were painting?” 

Mikey’s grin slowly turned full blast as he saw the golden opportunity. He grabbed Miles’ wrist, pulling him the few feet he needed to just to turn the hero in the right direction to see it. 

“Oh, yo!” Miles’ eyes went ride as he crossed the space to come up to the wall. “This is sick, man! I love incorporating the environment around me into the piece, it feels like it really shows love to the canvas, you know?”

Mikey was quick to move up next to him, clapping his hands together, “Yeah! Yeah, ohmigosh, yeah. Wow. I am so glad that you understand, I feel like no one gets it around here!” 

“What? How can people not get it! I swear, art is dead,” Miles complained, crossing his arms over his chest. But he looked over to Mikey. He had no mouth but the little artist could see the smile that laid beneath the mask through his eyes alone. 

“I don’t think it’s dead, it’s just learning. You gotta respect the process,” Mikey noted as he pulled one of the cans from his belt, tossing it over to Mile, “Do you paint?”

Miles caught the can, looking it over for a moment. Ruby red, how appropriate. “Do I paint? All the time. Sometimes when you’re patrolling the streets, you have way too much free time on your hands. Mind if I tag a wall?”

Mikey mulled it over, looking at the space around him- He’d be lying if he said he didn’t have this entire room planned out head to toe. But then he let out a small hum. “Actually, please do. Then I have something to remember you by when you inevitably have to go home,”

Miles seemed to light up at that, shaking his can as he extended his arm out. With a sharp THWIP! A web shot out from his wrist and connected to the ceiling. Miles pulled himself up with it, finding a spot up by the ceiling. “I figure I’ll take over this spot up here where a land turtle like you can’t reach,” Miles teased, looking over his shoulder smugly as he started to spray the wall. 

“Don’t be too sure about that, spider! I may look grounded but I am as free as they come!” Mikey called back, but he refrained from showing off. Instead, he grabbed his own golden can of paint from the ground and moved to stand below Miles. In sync, the two started to paint. 

Mikey put his name in tag, sharp curves but sharper points. Large and proud! With it, he placed one of his signatures. A golden turtle shell- Kind of on the nose, he knows. But at this point, being subtle has not gotten him the results he has wanted.

Alternatively, Miles did much the same. In a bright red, he wrote “Miles” onto the wall. But he was less controlled- No, not less controlled at all. He was deliberate in where he let the paint build up. The drips of the paint rolled down the cement with practiced ease. Mikey admired that. While he was trying so hard to control his paints to make them look nice and proper, but this style was fun and unique!

 The two chatted as they worked, Miles talked about his life- Apparently he was a student and a hero at the same time. Mikey didn’t understand how he did it, Mikey could barely be a hero some days! But Mikey got to talk about his brothers some, he learned that Miles didn’t have any. That was wild! But April didn’t have siblings either so it wasn’t too wild. 

Instead, Miles had an infinite amount of himself out there to bond with. Mikey remembered listening to Donnie once upon a time, how the multiverse would allow for anything to be possible as long as it could be conceived. That meant, there were infinite versions of Miles. That also meant there were infinite versions of himself out there as well. 

But! That’s why Miles was here! Because he was able to travel to these universes. That’s how he met his friend Gwen!

“Yeah! And my friend, Peter, he showed me how to do all this cool stuff! He’s kind of like.. Well, you said your dad was your sensei? He’s kind of like mine,” Miles explained. 

Mikey grinned, “Oh yeah? That’s pretty cool! Maybe one day a version of me will come out of a portal and teach me how to be a cool hero,” he pondered, tapping his chin.

“Yeah? Well if he does, figure out how to come visit me.” Miles grinned. 

Mikey went to open his mouth, but as he did, that light came back. Mikey got a good look at it now. It was bright with various boxes glitching in and out of it. Like a comic tearing apart at the seams! It was cool!

But, that also means that Miles has to go. 

Miles sighs, dropping down to the ground before the portal, turning to face Mikey. “This is my ride..”

Mikey sighed, holding his hand out, “Come visit again, you here? We have an entire room to fill.”

Miles’ hand smacked into his, but instead of leaving it at a handshake, he pulled Mikey in for a hug. “I’ll be back before you know it, promise.” Miles smirked, stepping back from the hug. “Good luck, Mikey.”

Miles stepped through the portal, and Mikey stared at it until it disappeared. He stopped, looking around. There were so many cans everywhere. With a sigh, he gathered them all up. It was nearing morning, he needed to go home. Mikey almost left without his phone! Almost, of course. Because he did hear his text tone right as he was about to leave the room. He rushed over to the side of the room to pick it up. 

Delightfully, the screen wasn’t cracked at all. Donnie had said it could survive a 50 foot drop, and the small ten feet it flew was only a fraction of that. He moved to the center of the room, framing his golden doves once again in the middle of the screen. Mikey stuck his tongue out as he focused in and.. Snap! 

Mikey grinned, tapping the small photo icon to view his masterpiece. 

He paused, however, as he looked down at the small photo that was next up in the preview. He swiped his finger to the right and he couldn’t stop himself from breaking out into laughter.

On his phone screen, a photo of Miles and him both falling to the ground. Miles was flying with a bit more momentum than Mikey was, but both of their eyes were comically wide. He didn’t even realize his phone had captured this moment.

He left it alone, tucking his phone into his pocket as he once again left for the door. 

A week later, Mikey would come back. An image wouldn’t leave his mind, something that felt important enough to brand the room with. On the wall of that maintenance room in the tunnel, he recreated the portal where Miles disappeared. He made the comic boxes, the Ben-Day dots, he even tossed in a spider emblem or two. He didn’t know if Miles would come back, he certainly hoped so. Mikey needed more friends who could understand the things he like. 

Miles didn’t have to come back, he had left enough of an impression on the young artist, but if he did? Mikey had a spray can with his name on it waiting.

“Or you'll be left in the dust, unless I stuck by ya. You're the sunflower.

You're the sunflower.”

[irrevocablecondition]

Its not that i dont agree because i do but theres bigger conversations to have

I think theres bigger things in the world and your world than the reboot and those are conversations you could be having ie Gaza?

hi anon !!

i am SO glad this has started a conversation !! so fucking glad !! i've seen a lot of people discussing it on tiktok now (a lot of my mutuals too so ily). i'm glad we're talking about it now because as i said in another post here on tumblr (the one where i had 47 trans people reach out to me and tell me about the transphobia they've faced in the fandom) this is bigger than a reboot.

and i do have bigger worries in my world, you're so right. my world is so messy in so many ways.

which is why i discussed how to make This world, the marauders fandom, feel safer and more inclusive. because i don't want to be arguing with my hormone clinic about the prices being raised, as i do every two months when they're raised to try and steer me off of it, and then come home and "relax" in fandom to see people hyping up something that profits jkr. i think that's valid.

i think this is a valid discussion for this space, right? i think the "what about xyz" view of conversations is actually more harmful?? we absolutely can discuss more than one thing at a time but i do also think that the hyping up of a reboot of the franchise on which our fandom is built upon but claims to be entirely against the franchise creator? i think that's a very big discussion that absolutely does need to be had in a queer-based fandom that a lot of trans people engage in.

and because, as stated, we can discuss more than one thing at a time:

here is the link tree that is accessible via my tiktok (and has been for months). here you can find gofundmes for palestinian families that have reached out to me for support, charities for palestine, information on gaza, and resources for congo, sudan, and trans rights (also putting together a lebanon section <3)

here is a link to my "🇵🇸river to the sea🇵🇸" playlist on tiktok . the videos that i have made for palestine are all in there, and they all have resources in the comment sections (such as exchange rates, families to follow and support, and people within the fandom that are offering buddy systems for donations)

here is the link to my public favourites folder full of videos to boost, families to support, informative videos, ways to indirectly support etc.

and if you go to my tiktok here and check the third pinned video, that is for Haneen and her family who still need as much support as we can offer <3 (gofundme here: please be wary of exchange rates !! NOK is a very weak currency, hence why the amount of donations is so high but funding isn't)

i will continue to discuss what i believe strongly in, regardless of how many conversations that takes. there is no limit on support, and there is no end to change, and it is possible to discuss the things that harm us personally, and those that harm others at the same time.

what a silly thing to say i fear

[maxdibert]

I’m rereading the Harry Potter books, and the amount of hatred I feel toward Hermione is insane.

I was always a very shy student who struggled with learning because everything distracted me during class. When I asked the teacher a question or was asked something directly, it was incredibly important to me because it was the only way I could truly learn—through direct interaction. Unfortunately, I always had the "luck" of sharing classes with those types who love answering questions that weren’t directed at them, trying to stand out as “the smartest” or meddling in my business.

While the fandom adores Hermione for being “so intelligent” and knowing all the answers, she’s actually a nuisance. Supposedly being “the smartest” and having this constant need to prove herself, she hinders others from learning by butting in where she doesn’t belong.

I think it’s very biased when, for example, Lupin says she’s “the brightest witch of her age” or something along those lines. Of course she stands out—she never lets anyone else answer before she opens her mouth or gets called on.

Honestly, the only reason I like Hermione is because she’s the only well-built and developed female character in the entire bloody series, since the rest are absolute rubbish, and honestly, Rowling makes them terribly one-dimensional in general (which is ironic considering she likes to pose as a feminist). But as a person, Hermione would drive me up the wall.

As a teenager, I thought some people disliked her because of that misogynistic trope where proactive and intelligent women are always looked down upon or labelled as annoying. But as the years have gone by, I’ve come to the conclusion that no, it’s because Hermione was annoying.

I wouldn’t have been able to stand having her as a classmate because I found teacher’s pets and those constantly trying to get teachers’ approval pretty revolting. Nothing disgusted me more than a brown-noser, and if they were also the type to always speak up, act like a know-it-all, and throw a fit if they got anything less than an A+, my dislike would’ve been through the roof.

I mean, I was never the type to tell someone off if they hadn’t done anything to me personally, but I remember this girl who got really upset because she always got top marks and took her grades so seriously (as if they actually mattered in the real world), but she came second in Literature because she was absolutely awful at interpreting and analysing texts. She was great at memorising but had the imagination of a rock. And she threw an actual tantrum over it, like, girl, you can’t be good at everything, relax. Or this university classmate who got mad because another girl,not her, received the highest distinction in a course. And that girl was supposed to be her friend, like ??? Honestly, people like that should be sent straight to the stake.

I never took my studies too seriously because I saw them as a means to get a degree and a job. The things that have truly interested me, I’ve studied on my own, and what’s been most fulfilling and educational for me has been travelling, working crappy jobs, and meeting loads of people. In the end, your grades don’t mean much because they guarantee nothing in life.

That said, I’d absolutely hate having a student like Hermione in my class. Imagine being a teacher trying to check whether your students are doing their homework, understanding the lesson, or simply trying to encourage them to speak up and express themselves because that’s a crucial part of their cognitive development — but you’ve always got that one kid cutting them off, correcting them, answering when nobody asked, or interrupting your interaction with other students just to show off.

I’m sorry, but if I were Snape, I wouldn’t be able to stand her either, because she’s actively sabotaging your work with the other students. It’s all me me me me, and a classroom isn’t just about you; it’s about everyone learning. Honestly, I would’ve really struggled not to tell her to shut the hell up at some point.

I also don’t think she’s brilliant. She’s tenacious, disciplined, and clever. She’s good at studying, memorising, practising, and she’s diligent — and these are very good and valid qualities. But brilliance comes from natural talent developed through practice, and she’s not naturally talented — she just works very hard.

[greatqueenanna]

Heyy, bestie!! Still being awesome, I see. One of the things I've always thought was not properly addressed or expanded upon was the actual affects and trauma of being completely socially isolated since she was a small child for Anna, and also how painful and confusing it must be for her in the aftermath of the Great Thaw. That being, in the movie, she automatically reconnects with Elsa and it almost seemed like all the friction that has been built up over the past thirteen years has been forgotten. Like, the person she's been trying to reconnect with for years, who is neglectful, harsh, and constantly turns her away is finally beginning to show a real interest in her. All of this to say, could you write a lil one shot that delves into Anna's psyche after the Great Thaw that explains it? Obviously please feel free to discuss these ideas as well, I'd love to hear what you think. Personally, I hc a darker interpretation that would probably be counter to Elsa's character in canon but which I think makes sense--Elsa is angry that Anna relentlessly keeps coming back to her, and lashes out cruelly to make Anna hate her--to break her little sister so that she never comes back and stays away for good. I wrote out that scene as Anna bringing Elsa flowers during a council meeting a few years before her coronation and Elsa throwing them in the fire and responding harshly, humiliating Anna in front of all the gathered staff (her only friends) which leads Anna to finally stop trying and makes the coronation ballroom meeting scene that much more contextually awkward. But yeah, that's all from me. Love to discuss this more since it's a take I don't really see in the fandom, but I really think Anna's issues from the isolation would have been severely more pronounced then how they are depicted in the movie. Cheers, bestie, love your stuff!!!

Hey! Thank you for your kinds words!

All of this to say, could you write a lil one shot that delves into Anna's psyche after the Great Thaw that explains it?

A one shot of Anna's psyche after the Great Thaw? Now that warrants an entire analysis! Stay tuned for that, now you've inspired me haha.

Now, for your question below -

That being, in the movie, she automatically reconnects with Elsa and it almost seemed like all the friction that has been built up over the past thirteen years has been forgotten. Like, the person she's been trying to reconnect with for years, who is neglectful, harsh, and constantly turns her away is finally beginning to show a real interest in her.

Regardless of how Elsa treated her while they were growing up, Anna never gave up hope to reconnect with her – even seeking her out when their parents died. Even when Elsa created the Eternal Winter, hit her with her powers, and threw her out of the Ice Palace, she still had the will to trust Elsa – sacrificing herself for her. After the Great Thaw, Anna says herself that she always knew that Elsa could do it. While she did have doubts, she always held onto the hope that she would reconnect with Elsa.

Going further, not only was Anna already open to the idea since the beginning of the film, but she had also found out the reason why Elsa treated her so coldly in the first place; it was because of the Ice magic. Anna says “For the first time in forever I finally understand!” She was also made aware of Elsa’s true feelings. At the coronation, Anna says “I wish it could be like this all the time!” with Elsa responding “Me too.” Then, Elsa shows her that she does care about her happiness at the Ice Palace – “Anna, please go back home, your life awaits. Go enjoy the sun, and open up the gates.” Elsa knows what Anna wants, and wants her to go and finally have it.

Anna finally understood that the reason Elsa was distant was because of her fear over her powers, and not because of her own choices. This was further cemented when Anna was told by the Trolls, “People make bad choices when they’re mad, or scared, or stressed.” Anna understood that Elsa was scared. It was never a personal vendetta against Anna, nor did Anna do anything to warrant the treatment. And Anna found out how Elsa actually felt about her.

Knowing all this, Anna quickly reconnecting with Elsa makes sense because both sisters were already open to the idea. What was stopping them was misunderstanding and fear. Once that was out of the way, everything else fell into place.

But I will definitely go into a more detailed analysis of Anna's psyche, it's depiction in the films in a future analysis.

[sparkldogz]

happy new year :3

i've been thinking a lot about what to say about this past year. so much has changed for the better in my life after being mostly alone for a few years, i realised that building and maintaining friendships with others is one of the single most important things that i need to do to build a life worth living. i tried again and again to make friends online outside of the furry fandom and failed each time. facing my worst fear, of being rejected as a friend, just to consistently flub it in some fashion was gutwrenching. coming back to the furry fandom has, so far, been one of the best decisions i have ever made. i didn't have a very good run in the fandom to start with, and coming back almost felt like failing in some way. i was so scared that people wouldn't like me. i had built it up in my head while i was gone, that people would see me and think something negative about me. i just wanted to be liked and to feel accepted. but to my surprise, this time, when i didn't try super hard to make people like me, when i just showed up as myself (which i used to find so terribly scary and shameful) i was welcomed with open arms. a month or so ago, i tried to make a list of all of the friends i have made over the last year, all the new people i've met, so i could draw art for them or make them kandi just to acknowledge them in some way. but the list just went on and on and on. i'm not sure i have the skills at this point to put into words how touched i am to have become a part of your lives, no matter how big or small it is. i genuinely feel that i have reached a point where i feel fulfilled, happy, and excited for the future with the amount of friends i have. all i need now, is the confidence to message people more 1-on-1 (another one of my big scary fears) and the motivation to post more and be more active online in a social way (comes and goes dependent upon the adhd symptoms :p) thank you all, for being my friends :3 i hope you and your friends and family enjoy your new years celebration, no matter how you choose to celebrate it (last year i stayed home and ate an entire cheese platter to myself it was great) and most importantly, i hope you know that even if it doesn't seem like it, things will get better. there is always something to celebrate, no matter how small. Happy New Year!! PLUR photo by @useralthepony !!

Posted using PostyBirb

[att4boy]

some thoughts

i was reminded of this blog bc i was watching mina le's lovely video on subcultures and aesthetics, and rmbed the times i came on here and reblogged all these art hoe (or whatever) photos with the #aesthetic tag, and tried to make my blog look all cohesive and pretty as well. i was 13 when i first started this blog - in fact i started it the day after i turned 13, if i'm not wrong? just a few days after... - and now i'm turning 21, and still thinking about this place. i joined tumblr bc all my friends were on it and it seemed like such a cool place. now all the friends (irl and not) i used to have here are gone.

(are any of you still here? let me know...)

i've been thinking about my relationship with the internet recently, inspired mainly by chia amisola (among many others on twitter). when i was younger i was so careless with what i posted. not using careless in a bad way, btw. i mean careless as in unself-conscious, careless as in happy to chat with anyone who happened to be around. when i had just started elementary school my sister helped me set up a blog where i happily posted about my day (i went to kfc today!), and then in p3 i tried to set up a blog to document my family (though it never materialised in the end; i think my mum heard about it and discouraged me from doing it, though i truly don't rmb much anymore). and when i got instagram i started a transparents account (those overlays to put on pictures that everyone was rly into back then) on instagram that got almost 1k followers, i had (have - it's still available online, though we haven't posted since 2016) a book fandom account with three of my friends where we posted our little fanedits of books like divergent and hunger games and twilight. i remember briefly chatting in the comments to some guy a year or two older whose username referenced mockingjay about singapore and school... making a transparent for this ? influencer ? my age ?? that i thought was rly cool... and then something changed, i'm not sure what. i think i became more conscious not of data privacy and security and whatnot, but of how hostile the internet could be when you had a "bad" opinion. i was finding my way into the parts of the internet that discussed feminism, intersectionality, lgbtq+ rights, etc... and don't get me wrong, i think those are all excellent movements that i'm proud to be part of, but i think i also stumbled into areas where accidentally being insensitive or uninformed was very harshly criticised and looked down upon. and i think, probably, i was already the sort of person to naturally be a bit more worried and anxious about doing the "right thing" - i was always the goody-two-shoes in class, still am today to some extent. so the internet changed around me and i came to know it as somewhere where i shouldn't ask too many questions, where i shouldn't criticise.

but then i've been reading about other people's experiences on the internet - how they grew up and built their entire worldview there, made friends across the globe and changed the trajectory of their lives because of it... and i am of course remembering my younger days of freedom of the internet. i miss that era! i wonder how different i would be if i had walked further into this space and talked more. now all i do is lurk on twitter with a private account, ghost cool people trying to follow me back, dream about replying to posts and weaving a friendship from nothingness... i am definitely romanticising, to some extent, but i don't think my version of the internet back then (/ now) is wholly accurate either. i am imagining a version of myself with more confidence and curiosity, and i am wondering if i can still spin that version into existence.

i guess this post is an attempt at that? the last time i came here to talk abt something and then i ended up moving that into a private google doc. but it feels appropriate for me to post about coming back onto / into the internet on tumblr, where i have "been" for years and years. i've been thinking about starting a blog, or a public twitter, or maybe (this one just came to mind) restarting a tumblr and seeing where things go. i don't know if i'll keep it up... but wouldn't it be nice to try?

[beardedmrbean]

[Huey Zoomer Anon]

I sent you a post pointed out how people misinterpreted trauma…what even MORE hilarious that fandoms who supposedly filled with traumatized people create the EXACT same toxic environment that cause my abuse

Almost like they only know surface levels of abuse

Ps not every abused child turned to a mentally stunted and regressive adult that think consuming “problematic content” means you’re a monster like what social media tells you to be

Oh I’m sorry that I didn’t become a narcissist that made my trauma my entire personality and blame capitalism for it

Also someone pointed out how can so many people online but autistic/add people from abusive households?

More weird when I find them to be pro commie…especially my painful experience in the foster care system (wasn’t abused by my foster parents that bitch of a stepmom never got punished) and the lack of resources for male survivors who abusers were female show me not to trust the system

And then me learning that gender/queer theory and modern western feminism is built upon Marxism…

Capitalist piggies can grind me a bit more

Sorry just with my healing journey and the lack of self awareness I seen online…these abuse survivors “supporters” would build ze gas chamber if they can especially with the I/P conflict show that

I sent you a post pointed out how people misinterpreted trauma…what even MORE hilarious that fandoms who supposedly filled with traumatized people create the EXACT same toxic environment that cause my abuse Almost like they only know surface levels of abuse

that's because it's trendy to have been abused now, has been for a while for some reason.

Oh I’m sorry that I didn’t become a narcissist that made my trauma my entire personality and blame capitalism for it

That would be that self awareness thing again

Also someone pointed out how can so many people online but autistic/add people from abusive households?

I've wondered that myself.

More weird when I find them to be pro commie…especially my painful experience in the foster care system (wasn’t abused by my foster parents that bitch of a stepmom never got punished) and the lack of resources for male survivors who abusers were female show me not to trust the system And then me learning that gender/queer theory and modern western feminism is built upon Marxism…

Still don't think I will ever understand why so many different "progressive™" groups will latch on to a ideology that was created by a racist, homophobe, who abandoned his children, that utterly fails every time people try to implement it.

No it will not work this time and no not even with your super smart upgraded version of it.

Capitalist piggies can grind me a bit more Sorry just with my healing journey and the lack of self awareness I seen online…these abuse survivors “supporters” would build ze gas chamber if they can especially with the I/P conflict show that

utter and complete lack of empathy is a issue on both sides, has been for a long time,

article I put up today about ana kasparian where she talks about being victim blamed for admitting she was scared to leave the house after being sexually assaulted by a homeless man.

"Before I knew it, I started getting these messages, and it's really, really harsh stuff, about how, ‘You are painting a picture of the homeless community. How could you be like this? These are your unhoused neighbors and they need help,'"

Yes that last bit is true, but that doesn't give anyone license to sexually assault someone else and what the hell are you thinking making it out like it does.

It's nuts

[pvffinsdaisies]

Ahahahaha… my original plan was to just kinda ignore this bc I’m terrible 😮‍💨.

I don’t have an essay up my sleeves, if that’s what you guys were hoping for. But it’s a headcanon I’ve had for a few months now, I think most of the fandom can agree that Sweden is autistic, but I feel like I don’t often see how that does, and did, affect his life?

And I was thinking about it, how hard it must’ve been to exist as an autistic person in history. With zero accommodation. Zero knowledge that the experience he is living is not normal. So, naturally, I think Sweden would probably get sensory overload a fair but due to the situations he would’ve been living in. With no knowledge of what to do. And I also feel like with Sweden, it just makes sense for him to react to sensory overload with anger and rage, rather than crying and running away (which is more often represented). To make it 100% clear, I do not blame Sweden’s autism for any of the wars he got himself into, but I think these outbursts would’ve left a lasting impression, resulting in a reputation.

It got worse before it got better, think about how much louder things got after the 1800s. If he couldn’t handle his surroundings before then, he certainly wouldn’t have been able to do so afterwards either. But I also wonder if this is around the time he realised it was a problem? This isn’t how normal people react to things (it’s likely it was norway who helped him reach this conclusion? Finland wouldve just gotten used to these outbursts, Norway not so much). From here he could maybe have started a very insecure, humbling period, built up off of self guilt for not understand how to handle himself. I also like to imagine Sweden matured the most around this time, and I think this was definitely part of that experience.

Then, after centuries upon centuries of not understanding why this happens to him, he’s able to get an autism diagnosis, and finally get an answer. He knows how he needs accommodation, to avoid things that are too loud and smells that are too strong, (I also wonder if potentially a diet change came along with this?). I think Sweden loves music, but I also think he can be heavily reliant on it too? Putting on some music through noise cancelling headphones has been one of the best things to help keep himself grounded.

As I mentioned earlier, I don’t think the way Sweden used to act in history is entirely because of his autism (that would just be kinda ableist 🫤), he was also a lot younger and a lot more immature, and was genuinely just trying his best even if that did not always end well. But I also think ignoring that undiagnosed, unaccommodated for autism definitely did impact his life in a very bad way would be untruthful.

When I sent a whole explanation about how Sweden was so “aggressive” in the past because he’s autistic and reacts to sensory overload with aggression, and the reason he’s more calm now is because he actually knows how to accommodate for himself and they totally ignore it and change subject

[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 :) 

[itsclydebitches]

Oh I also like how the anon was like "you all keep calling us the 'Anti-rwde' or whatever" as if we are not specifically referring to a specific subsection of the fndm that specifically has labeled themselves as Anti-RWDE and has specifically used that tag so that they can make it easier to turn harassing people over Fandom opinions into a groupwide party game

So not only is anon blowing smoke when they say that YOU of all people "never post anything positive" (a straight-up lie if I ever heard one lol, you are an incredibly positive and upbeat person who clearly loves rwby and are only getting hate because certain sections of the fndm have decided to punish all who stray from the groupthink) but they're also displaying their ignorance by talking as if "Anti-RWDE" is a term we made up to describe people who casually like rwby, rather than the fact that is a label a specific group of people chose for themselves upon deciding to intentionally cyberbully and abuse total strangers because they don't like our opinions about a web cartoon.

Unfortunately, that twisted logic regarding names has been going on since the start. Though I didn’t experience the beginning of all this first-hand (since I came into the fandom a little later), my understanding of the history is basically that:

Fans posted content that existed under the hugely broad category of “negative” opinions (as every fandom does). However, unlike other communities, RWBY defined “negative” content as anything from a horrific, anti-representation rant lacking all evidence and deliberately attacking others… to someone going, “I preferred A over B and here’s an analytical examination as to why.” Anything deemed negative was considered equal, regardless of what should be the very obvious problems with that approach.

Thus, “critics” quickly became “haters” and all attempts to explain the nuances of criticism fell flat.

Purity culture reared its head, emphasizing that haters weren’t just people posting opinions on a webseries others disagreed with, but morally heinous asshole who were actively harming other fans and the creators. They were rude.

Since this is a fandom built on canonical acronyms that function as other words, they’re RWDE.

(And because they've always been haters, it's also the HTDM.)

So, after a long time of trying to explain things—no, just because one asshole is sending RT mean tweets doesn’t mean the majority of us do that; no, that rant isn’t the same thing as posts trying to deconstruct the show; no, a desire for better queer rep doesn’t make us homophobic, etc.—fans basically threw up their hands and went, “Fine! If we’re so rude to you then we’ll embrace it. We’re RWDE now. Might as well adopt the name you all keep calling us since we can’t get you to stop.”

Tumblr’s RWBY community demanded loudly that all criticism be filterable. Or better yet, removed from the site entirely. So, critics started using the RWDE tag in part so others could easily circumvent it.

Then fans got mad that the RWDE tag existed. A space dedicated solely to criticizing the show? The horror! Did you all miss the part where we really just wanted you out of the community entirely?

A lot of critics were successfully harassed into giving up on posting about RWBY, which is ironic given how often we hear the accusation that we harass others. I’ve personally never come across a RWBY fan who left the community because of RWDE. (Or, to be more specific, people who left because of actual RWDE posters. Plenty of fans will claim they were harassed by RWDE, but really they're referring to a handful of specific, bigoted assholes with no association with the rest of the sub-community and using "RWDE" as an inaccurate umbrella term for everyone in the fandom they dislike. As you put it, anon, it's a group-wide party game. "RWDE" has become the catch-all name for anyone you hate and more often than not, people ignore the legit RWDE posters going, "We don't know this person? They've never interacted with us? And we don't approve of their actions either, so why are you lumping us in with them??"). Meanwhile, I know many people who have left the community because of other fans targeting them over posting their disappointment and grievances with the series. And many more have come forward to basically say, “I never posted in the first place because I know the shit that'll get me.”

Because RWDE continued to exist, anti-RWDE then became a popular tag to combat it. They VAST majority of RWDE posters have never even interacted with the crew, but the claim that they're harassers became so ubiquitous that harassing them in turn was seen as justified. You criticized this public, paid-for product of a major corporation and posted it somewhere the creators will never see? We'll send you death threats to your personal inbox. Yes, those are absolutely the same thing.

“But you started this term,” we’ve said. “You created RWDE and then we adopted it precisely because you wanted to filter out our content. We want you to block us if you don't like this stuff. Why would you create a new tag that is specifically all about engaging with opinions you know you disagree with?”

There’s never been an answer to that because it’s really just about feeling superior and enjoying targeting the “bad people” online.

Similar stuff happened over on Reddit. A RWBY sub was made, the community decided they didn’t want anything they deemed as negative, eventually in an effort to carve out their own space/avoid the instant down-voting/appease the fans who very clearly wanted a strict separation in content, the RWBY Critics sub was created.

…and then that was used as evidence for how horrible those fans were. It's become go-to “evidence” presented to new fans as a way to deter them from going to the dark side, so to speak. “Look at how they created an entire space solely for hating on RWBY! RWBY Critics and RWDE are proof that they’re all horrible fake fans who only want to ruin others’ enjoyment.” Which, of course, misses the crucial context that from the start critics have always wanted to be a part of the main circles—I still post in “RWBY” because that’s what my posts are about—and we only created these niche, highly critical-focused spaces because others demanded that separation in the first place. However, I can't really blame new fans for buying into all that. If I came into a community and the majority immediately started warning me about this sub-group, painting them as every horrible thing under the sun (they're racist, transphobic, they hate the canonical queer rep, they're constantly harassing RT, they're the reason all these bad things have happened, etc.) ... I'd be pretty wary too. It speaks volumes that I've encountered a lot of people over the years who have gone, "I legit thought that RWDE was the devil until I was disappointed in something myself. Then I realized just how fast the rest of the community can turn on you if you criticize RWBY - even while still loving it! - and as a result I discovered that the vast majority of RWDE posters aren't like what the rest of the fandom paints them as." There are always exceptions on both sides, of course. You can find asshole RWDE posters and asshole non-RWDE posters, but on the whole RWDE is pretty extensively misrepresented and a lot of that stems from being able to push fans towards specific actions (a name, a new space, simply getting so frustrated that you explode in a private post that then breaks quarantine) and then being able to say, "See? They're so awful."

Though from what I've heard things have been better over there as of late, for a time this misrepresentation became so intense that the RWBY sub attempted a blanket ban on the critics sub, because guilt by association and all that. Luckily, the majority of the fandom realized that this was ridiculous, one step way too far, and it was revoked. But the fact that this happened at all is a good summary of how critics are often perceived in the community.

So yeah, this keeps happening. It's become a predictable cycle. Critics of all varieties are a part of the main community, they’re derided, they eventually get sick of that treatment, they carve out a space for themselves… and then that’s used as “proof” that they were always RWBY-hating assholes. You can’t win when either choice is automatically framed as wrong. The only correct choice, according to fans like that anon, is to stop engaging with RWBY entirely. Which, you know, is advice I personally don't plan to take lol.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Rating: T+ for blood, language, nudity, and horny

Warnings: Implied pain/blood kink

Summary: Local vampire tries to give her human soulmate a bath, but the human is feral and loving it. Then it gets a lil horny, to both of their frustration.

Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring

2: Bloodbath, Baby!

“I take it you changed your mind about the clothes? Or am I supposed to use these towels like a makeshift toga?” You asked, glancing around the bathroom, eying the ornate tub with mild interest. This certainly wasn’t where you had expected Cassandra to take you, especially not when she had somewhat promised you garments to wear. There were no pants or shirts (or even dresses) in sight, just a rack of the softest looking towels you had ever seen. It was admittedly difficult for you to resist the urge to use one to wipe the blood off of your shoulder. However, you figured that it would be best to save that for after you were given a good behavior prize. After all, it was much more fun to be a bastard if your “victim” (not that Cassandra really counted as that) knew how polite you were capable of being, and you were, under normal circumstances, very polite. Most of the time. Maybe.

“What did I say about talking?” Cassandra snapped at you, glaring at you from her perch on the counter. She was sitting on the edge, waiting for something, occasionally eying the room’s entrance.

“You told me to shut up for ‘five minutes’. It’s been eight, at the very least! I’ve been holding back, just for you, babe,” you replied, smirking as you did. For a moment your soulmate seems to consider chucking a bar of soap at your head. Eventually she thinks better of it, opting to roll her eyes at you instead. “For the record, I did count, just to be sure. Wouldn’t have wanted to make any assumptions about the passage of time, considering how fast time seems to fly when I’m with a loved one.” Unfortunately, this does not get a rise out of Cassandra, who has shifted to face away from you. Not yet willing to give up your buffoonery (and assuming that you would not, in fact, be getting a good behavior prize anytime soon), you released a loud, exaggerated sigh, before switching tactics.

Standing up with the blanket still curled around yourself, you maneuver over to the tub, eagerly climbing inside. With how large it was, laying down was fairly easy, though you weren’t entirely flat. Wanting to be as comfortable as possible, you adjust yourself and the blanket until it covers you, while letting one end go behind your head like a pillow. It’s nowhere near as nice as you had hoped. On the plus side, however, is the attention it gets from Cassandra. Before long she’s standing adjacent to the tub, staring down with an expression of exasperation.

“What the fuck are you doing?” She asked.

“Napping, obviously. Care to join me?” You answered, without hesitation. Then you gently pat the blanket, as if offering to let her sit on top of you. This only serves to make her angrier. Now she’s leaning over the basin, bracing one hand against it, her other hand reaching to grab your throat and pull you towards her. The two of you are so close that you can’t help but blush, and the feeling of her skin against yours is weirdly attractive. “I should have known you were the kinky type. Not that I mind,” you murmured, gaze wandering a little farther south than her lips. Before you know it she’s shoved you back down and let go of you. She shakes her hand a bit, like she’s just touched something gross, but you see the pink rising on her cheeks. As much as you want to tease her, the sound of approaching footsteps takes priority. Soon the door is opening, revealing a stressed servant, a pile of clothes in her arms. Suddenly you’re glad that Cassandra pushed you away, considering you don’t think she would have enjoyed having someone walk in on the two of you in that position.

“Lady Cassandra, I have what you requested. Would you like me to draw a bath for you? Or-” she pauses when she sees you, clearly unsure of what to make of your behavior. Hell, she almost drops what she’s carrying, and makes a soft ‘oh’ sound. Presumably dying inside, Cassandra quickly takes the bundle from her. Then she stands between the two of you, blocking line of sight, looking as tense as could be.

“Just get back to work, and don’t mention this to anyone,” she growled, gesturing towards the door. As soon as the maiden closes it behind her, Cassandra is turning back to you. “Get rid of that stupid fucking blanket or I’m forcing you to wear wet socks.” Understandably, you start giggling at her request, hardly able to believe that she had really just said those words out loud. “Would you prefer I cut up the soles of your feet? I’ll heal long before you do, asshole.” Now that makes you pause, trying to figure out whether or not her threat held up. Even though everyone had a basic understanding of how blood bonds worked (the less romantic, and more historic, way to refer to soulmates), the specifics were confusing for most people, including yourself. Would your aching wounds bother her? Or only the initial injury?... Somehow you had a feeling you’d figure out the answer within the next few days.

Until then, you decide to err on the side of caution, for once in your life. Still, you roll your eyes before you pull the blanket up and out of the tub. Again you spot a faint rosy tint on Cassandra’s face, and her gaze most definitely lingers on places other than your eyes. In the end you have to bite your lower lip to stop yourself from calling her out on it. Gotta get some clothes first, you think, then back to being a dick. Holding back only gets harder from there.

Wordlessly, Cassandra takes a seat by the front of the tub, where your feet are propped up on the edge. Giving you a judgemental look, she pushes them aside so she can reach the controls knobs easier. You give an exaggerated pout in response, only for her to ignore you completely, trying very hard to look anywhere but at you. It was in stark contrast to how she had looked at you a mere half an hour earlier. There were several interesting things to note about her behavior, and you found yourself almost excited to figure out the puzzle she presented. Did she care about you now? Simply because of your blood bond? Did she have a genuine soft spot for romance?... Those sorts of questions were all you could think about, even as Cassandra turned the handles, letting cold water splash into the tub.

“I’d say ‘fuck you’ but honestly, were I in your position I would likely do the same,” you said, shivering a little. Cassandra raises an eyebrow, staring at you like you were stupid, before turning the handle a bit more. Eventually you figure out what she meant by it. “What, you guys don’t have a quality water heater? This is Romania for fuck’s sake. I would have figured the water would be a hell of a lot hotter by now,” you added, only for her to splash some still very much cold water on your face. “Is this fun for you? Are you enjoying this? God, I hope you assholes have Legos somewhere in this maniac menagerie, so I can step on them while you sleep.”

“Do you always spit in the face of kindness?” Cassandra asked, moving towards the other end of the tub as she spoke. Once more you laugh, though this time it’s much more of a hollow sound, and your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. “My sister wanted to kill you, but I pulled your pathetic corpse out of the basement, now I’m letting you use my bath, and you’re mocking me. This is why I don’t bother with this shit,” she growled, even as she wets a washcloth and starts dabbing at your wounds. On one hand you understand her frustration… but on the other you couldn’t get the image of her past victims out of your head.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather be clean than not,” you started to say, pausing to think for a moment. Then you reach out, putting your hand over Cassandra’s, making her freeze in place. It’s soft enough of a touch to surprise her. Which is why it’s so easy for you to snatch the towel from her hands. “You ‘don’t bother’ with this ‘shit’ because you’re a fucking sadist, who thinks all humans are beneath you, who acts like she has every right to bleed innocent people dry, who thinks she’s God’s gift to this goddamn hellhole we call Earth. Do you think this makes up for your sins? Do you-” her nails dig into your arm and she grits her teeth in pain- “think that I can forget listening to the screams of your victims? Whose graves is this castle built upon? Whose fucking bones am I standing on? Who died to keep you alive? How many other versions of me have you killed, in other timelines, in other lives, where the universe didn’t demand that we be together? I’ve seen your heart, girl, and it’s as raw as they come.”

There’s a brief second of intense, furious eye contact. Then a flash of movement, a rush of pain, tears filling the corner of your eyes. Blood pours from the new hole in your shoulder, but Cassandra is quick to lick it up. She’s groaning in between each run of her tongue across your skin, clearly feeling it every bit that you were, yet she shows no signs of stopping. If anything, her pain seems to spur her on harder. Even you can’t help but blush a little as you struggle beneath her grip. Why did vampires have to use their mouths? Why couldn’t they get blood transfusions, like the rest of society? This way, your pleasure mixes with your misery, leaving you confused, and the fact that you’re still naked is not at all helping.

“Oh fuck off, please,” you gasped, trying to push her off of you. To your surprise, she does as asked, pulling away after one last lick. When you turn to look at her, you see your blood covering her lips and dripping down her chin. “You’re a mess, Cassie. Hot water?” With that you return her favor from earlier, splashing some of the (finally above room temperature) water in her direction. Most of it misses her. A few drops, however, do manage to hit their mark. Then she’s wiping her face on her sleeve, scowling the whole time. There’s still plenty of blood on her face afterwards, but it’s nothing compared to what’s gathering on your shoulder. She eyes the wound, nostrils flaring briefly, a predator dying for one more bite. “If you bite me again, I swear to whoever that one lady y’all worship is, I will bite you. My teeth aren’t made for that shit, but I don’t care. We’ll both be miserable and that’s it, baby! That’s love! I’m threatening you with an unhealthy perception of affection, dipshit!”

This time you expect her to move away, or hit you, or do anything other than what she does. Calling your bluff, she moves around the ever-filling tub, pausing to turn the water off, before hiking the edges of her dress up and… oh. Oh. Somehow she’s in the tub with you now, legs on either side of your waist, presenting the side of her neck to you with a knowing smirk. But you are not known for your cleverness. Nor your ability to make good decisions, at that. Perhaps your blood loss was starting to affect your cognition. Whatever made you so feral, so beautifully unhinged, you embraced it with utter glee. Soon enough your teeth find themselves on Cassandra’s throat, digging in enough for you to feel your blood bond reacting. For a moment she stiffens in response. Then she relaxes, even takes in a rush of air that sounds oddly content, leaning into your touch. What the fuck? You think, almost shocked enough to let go. Almost.

“What’s the matter, pet? I thought you wanted me to know what it felt like on the other side of things?” Cassandra teased, voice quiet and low. Something about her tone sends a familiar, although unwanted, feeling to your core. Still, her words egg you on, and you find yourself biting harder, tugging at the skin a little. More tears gather in your eyes, but you fight through the pain as best as you can. You drag your teeth across her skin, wishing for sharper canines, before letting go to inspect your work. There’s a clear outline where your mouth had been, but not a single drop of blood. Frustrated, you go back in for seconds, choosing a different spot to target. Again you go through the motions, only for no crimson to stain your lips. This cycle repeats several more times, with you running your tongue along her neck in between bites, so focused that you don’t realize that she’s grinding against you until she stops.

“I need to file my teeth,” you mused, trying to forget about what you had just done. Now that it’s over, Cassandra seems to feel the same, and she quickly climbs back out of the tub. She’s refusing to meet your gaze, instead focusing on arranging the clothes the servant had brought earlier. By the time she’s facing you again her blush is almost entirely gone.

“Finish cleaning up, then bandage yourself and get dressed. I’ll have a maiden wait outside to bring you back to my room. Don’t even think about trying to run,” Cassandra said sternly. You’re too distracted by the thought of what happened to give her any snarky response. So she simply nods to herself, then leaves, slamming the door behind her. Though you had expected to be relieved by her absence, you find yourself groaning, holding your head in your hands. Why is she so attractive? This is probably illegal, you think, in at least several countries. Or it should be, at least. Now that she’s gone, there’s nothing to distract you from the price of her attention, with your shoulder and neck aching horribly. Cleaning up was going to hurt even worse. Still, you think, at least I’ll have some time to think of new insults. With that in mind, you begin to wash away the blood, thoughts entirely consumed by your newest ‘partner’.

[chidoroki]

TPN - “Dreams Come True”

What better way to cheer up the TPN fandom after the second season’s final episode than with the special exhibition chapter finally being fully translated. I caught glimpses of a few pages here and there over the past couple months but seeing all the children live happily together in the human world in their own little village that they made close to Emma and Alex warms my heart. Of course I would’ve loved if we got to see more of the GP Resistance (because the anime denied us of them) but following the GF kids around the world as they experience their dreams is fair enough. We started the series alongside them so might as well finish strong with them too. I really loved seeing everyone grow up but no matter how old they get or how much time passes, I’ll probably never get used to seeing Emma without her iconic “63194.” It’s a bittersweet feeling for me, but her smiles bring me so much joy and I’m beyond happy that she accepted everyone into her life as they accepted her without her memories.

I haven’t a clue on how much time passed since everyone found Emma in ch181 to now, but seeing her call out everyone’s names is a little detail that I love so much considering she had no idea who anyone was at first. Trying to remember 60+ names doesn’t seem like an easy task to me. No doubt I was just as shocked as our girl upon learning these mere children bought a goddamn plane! We learn in a couple pages that it’s because of Norman’s company that they can afford it, but still, he’s like 15 or 16 now? He’s still a child! And I’m impressed! Not only at him, but that Oliver and Violet became pilots as well! It’s especially cute when you remember that Lucas gave Oliver a little toy plane during their time at Goldy Pond.

Speaking of GP, is it just me or does Emma’s current outfit resemble her GP one just a little bit? Sure we have no idea what color scheme this one has but come on, the short jacket, the dark shirt and jeans.. just imagine it! Jemima, Yvette, Alicia and Mark remade Gillian’s original GP outfit sometime before the Grace Field Raid arc (ch137 extra page) so I don’t doubt they could’ve done the same for Emma. Of course that’s just me being completely hopeful and missing the Goldy Pond arc to death but yeah! I’m also so happy to see Chris up and moving again! Seeing him wake up briefly in ch181 was nice but this is so much better. I imagine he and Emma have a lot to catch up on in terms of stories, with him being unconscious since ch105 and Emma not remembering anything.

But here we go, the original 15 escapees plus Norman, Phil, Sherry, I believe I saw Carol somewhere and a couple other random kiddos ready to see the entire world. They get to accomplish so much.. and in a single day too I believe? At least that’s what Phil and Alicia say a bit later about everyone’s wishes, but aahh what a lucky bunch. Hell, I’ll say we’re lucky readers too to be able to see such a great story. Can’t thank Shirai and Demizu enough y’all. I wish we got to see more of Alex though. He’s such a kind soul but I’m sure he’ll be just fine staying behind with everyone else.

This entire page where we learn about Norman as a CEO is gold. I still can’t believe this child successfully built up an entire multipurpose company not only to help their search for Emma but also because he didn’t want to live off the Ratri clan. I wish I knew about this last week when writing out Norman’s birthday post because hell yeah this deserves some praise! AND he managed to graduate school as well during all that! Well, by skipping grades which totally makes sense. I mean, if he managed to pass all the Grace Field and Lambda tests effortlessly I’m sure normal human world school was a piece of cake for him. Holy shit dude, keep on impressing me why don’t ya. Not only him but Nigel and Sonya too! I’m not surprised that Vincent helped out but I’m glad those two got a tiny moment to shine as well! Ray is another obvious choice when it comes to helping Norman, as they’re best friends and he’s always been good with machines.. but boy, I can’t take you seriously when you’re just sitting there unamused and eating chips! Hahah I love him so much! And the fact he replies to Norman’s idea with just a simple “kay” is an eternal mood.

Okay boys aside, can we talk about our fabulous girls now? Because oh my god, they’re so darn beautiful! They’re more fashionable than I’ll ever be and it’s so cute how they drag Emma along to take advantage of the 3-for-1 deal. But our girl pulls off that sporty look so well! (r.i.p. goldy pond outfit ver2.0). I’m not at all surprised that Nat wanted to go see the opera. That's perfect for him and I’d like to think the anime did something similar with that one shot we see of him in the human world. We don’t see him in a theater like this but to me it looks like he’s on the streets of Broadway? At least that’s the vibe I get from it. I’m sure there was something music related on one of those signs.

I can’t get over how adorable all the children look and how happy they are fulfilling their wishes, even if some of them aren’t as extravagant as others. Like eating a fluffy pancake and a ton of ice cream? We can do that whenever we want. But for these kids, it means everything and they absolutely deserve to experience such simple joys like that after all the harsh nonsense they’ve been through. I also love how Ray continues to be such a great older brother by still looking out for them too. The fact he remains completely unfazed by the haunted house is perfect. This boy has been haunted by his own nightmares and demons his entire life, there’s no way a couple of lousy jump scares are gonna spook him. Though I do find it funny that Alicia and Rossi still manage to get scared while Yvette is having the time of her life. I can’t help but laugh at Thoma’s “Shirai face” as well.

I find it interesting that out of all the different kinds of exhibits they could’ve shown us while Rossi visits a museum, they give us dinosaurs.. like that seems so silly to me. Y’all have seen several demons in your young lives already and yet dinosaurs manage to amaze you too? God these kids are precious. And then our boy Phil finally gets to see and ride a train! Just look how happy he is! The poor kid can’t even sit still he’s so darn excited and I can’t help but smile with him! Thankfully the anime showed us this too.

We eventually get to Ray’s wish and guys.. oh my fucking god. Tell me that this is not the absolute best and prettiest smile we get to see from him!! It honestly leaves me speechless okay? Ray never imagined he would ever get to see the outside world, let alone live past the age of 12, and yet here he is, seeing such a beautiful sight such as this, right in front of him instead of from inside a book. You can’t believe how happy and proud of him I am right now. Did you see how ecstatic I was when the anime kept Isabella alive? Multiply that feeling by ten and there ya go. That’s my level of happiness upon seeing my favorite boy smile like THAT! AAHHH!! That panel is gonna live rent free in my head until the end of time. I can’t get over how damn perfect it is. His smile is so pure and how he looks like he’s in complete awe is beautiful. He’s about to burst into tears and I swear I might do the same because I’m making myself emotional over this fantastic boy. Someone hold me.

No seriously, hold me because we’re about to get into some angst as we move onto to Emma’s wish. We all know that ever since 2039 her one dream was to ride a giraffe once they got outside, so here we are, about ten years later and the animals in question are within reach. Our girl should be totally excited, right? Ha, not quite.

That wish was something the old Emma wanted, but since demon god had to be such a bastard, this Emma doesn’t know what to think, let alone what to even feel. She hasn’t experienced the same hardships as her family. She hasn’t gone through hell and back while holding onto that one wish that would make all the suffering worth it. The amount of joy everyone else felt upon living out their dreams, she wonders if she would be able to feel it too.

They brought her here to make her happy, but is this truly want she wants as well? This is old Emma’s wish after all. What about her and what she wants? Could this wish make her just as happy as her old self? She knows her family is only trying to help, but seeing her doubt herself does a number on my heart. Even without her memories, she’s still the same Emma deep down, as she doesn’t want to disappoint her family. She spends so much time worrying about living up to her family’s expectations, to try and be that Emma they all love so dearly.

Little does she know that she acts the exact same as usual, almost as if nothing has changed when she finally expresses how much she wants to ride a giraffe. And that’s great considering when they first arrived at the giraffes, no on had even mentioned riding them. She came across that feeling all on her own and everyone else can’t help but laugh and feel relieved. Her mind may have forgotten but her heart remembers everything. There is no “old Emma” and “new Emma” to her family, just “Emma” and words can’t express how wholesome that is because they love her regardless. All that matters to them is Emma’s happiness because if anyone deserves to feel and experience that, it’s her.

I just made myself tear up, damn it. I started this series with season one okay? I heard about this precious girl’s dream within the first minute of the first episode and here I am, a little bit over two years later, finally reading about it coming true and seeing that bright as hell smile on her face. Do you know how amazing it is to come full circle like that? My heart feels so full right now. I’m beyond proud of her and love her to death. Say what you want but I believe this to be the true manga ending in my eyes.

(damn this series for always getting me emotional)

[my-bated-breath]

On an Immensely Popular Post

Disclaimer: What I’m writing here may not be completely accurate -- like most works of art, literature, and even STEM tend to be -- and as a new fan of ATLA, a few of the metas I publish may be obsolete or unintentionally insensitive. That being said, I like to believe that I can contribute something valuable to this fandom. In all my (real) metas, I wish to be as objective as possible and not rely on my biases, fanon, or common “knowledge” that may just be misconceptions. If anyone reading this finds something to be false or contrived, I am always welcome to constructive criticism. What I am not welcome to is senseless hate or bashing.

My first experiences with the ATLA fandom begun a long, long time ago, but the most recent and powerful revival of my love for ATLA started with me actually watching the show and soon after, with me falling into the endless abyss of ATLA metas on Tumblr. Sifting through the well-written analyses and the emotion-based rants had taught me a lot about critical thinking and the power of influence, so now I’d like to present a meta that critiques an extremely popular post with over 60,000 notes. And since it’s so popular, this is the part where I must make yet another disclaimer.

Disclaimer: I hold nothing against lesbians4sokka (whose name has now been changed to comradekatara). They have the right to share what they want, but since this particular post has become so influential that it’s still being reblogged regularly to this day, I believe it is within my right to criticize it - emphasis on “criticize,” which is different from “hate.”

Now that that’s out of the way, let us begin:

Lesbians4sokka/comradekatara covers 3 main subjects in their post, which I will quote/summarize below:

(1) Ma/iko: “...the entire foundation of mai and zuko’s relationship was built on how miserable they were together, and how they would just sit there and hate the world together— letting their misery fester as they enabled each other’s depression— and I think that’s really unfortunate because they would work so well as friends if they weren’t trying to make their dumpster fire of a relationship work.”

(2) Zutara: “similarly, what makes zuko and katara’s dynamic so compelling is that they share the same flaws, only as opposed to mai’s apathy and misery, it’s katara’s rage and guilt that zuko identifies with. they both share trauma over having lost their mothers, and both in a similar way (sacrificing themselves for them) and they both cope with their grief through rage, often misplaced… katara and zuko have a deep & profound friendship, but if they were to be in a relationship, they would only bring out the absolute worst in each other thru enabling each other’s rage and emotion-driven decision making.”

(3) Z/uk/ka: this pairing makes for a healthy and wholesome relationship because throughout the boiling rock, we see that “sokka and zuko make an excellent team, as they balance each other perfectly. sokka thinks big picture, and plans ahead, but zuko will charge into situations.” They inspire each other, they trust each other unconditionally, they become more open and supportive of each other, they share a lot of common interests and narrative parallels, and in general, just make each other happy (which could work both platonically and romantically).

As for my response: I’m sure many of you are expecting me to start to save the “best for last.” That assumption would be incorrect because I actually have the least to say about point 3.

I agree that Z/uk/ka can be a good relationship. Their dynamic is funny, playful, supportive, etc. etc. (there are so many positive adjectives I could use to describe their dynamic, the list could go on forever). And they could make a great couple.

…

What, did you expect more from me? That’s it, I’m done.

I’m not here to attack Z/uk/ka as a ship, because while I can never actively ship it (I’m a sad, narrow-minded exclusive shipper, always had been and always will be) I can objectively appreciate them as one. It’s points 1 and 2 I’m more concerned about.

Now, since we’ve already begun working backward, I’ll begin my critiques on point 2: I could write extensively about the parallels between Zuko and Katara, including but not limited to shared pain and a few shared flaws - and just a few, because their weaknesses diverge in many important places. However, since I’m trying to write as objectively as possible and since Zuko-Katara parallels have already been discussed to death, my analysis will focus elsewhere.

However, something from comradekatara’s post that I would first like to address is this-

[Zuko and Katara] both cope with their grief through rage, often misplaced. in the southern raiders, they both act deeply insensitively towards sokka by acting as if his grief over his mother’s death is somehow less valid simply because he is a lot quieter in his coping mechanisms and doesn’t project his rage & guilt onto everyone else.

- or rather, the idea that Zuko and Katara’s shared pain causes them to act insensitively towards Sokka (and though the post does not mention it, Aang as well).

(Note: these points have already been covered by countless metas before mine, so you can skip/skim this section to read a newer argument in the next section.)

Even ignoring the fact that the Southern Raiders had many out of character moments, Katara’s insensitivity towards Sokka is first and foremost a reaction against his insensitivity towards her.

_____

Dialogue from Season 3, Episode 16 “The Southern Raiders”:

Aang: Um ... and what exactly do you think this will accomplish?

Katara: [Shakes her head in dismay.] Ugh, I knew you wouldn't understand. [Begins to walk away.]

Aang: Wait! Stop! I do understand. You're feeling unbelievable pain and rage. How do you think I felt about the sandbenders when they stole Appa? How do you think I felt about the Fire Nation when I found out what happened to my people?

Zuko: She needs this, Aang. This is about getting closure and justice.

Aang: I don't think so. I think it's about getting revenge.

Katara: [Angrily.] Fine, maybe it is! Maybe that's what I need! Maybe that's what he deserves!

Aang: Katara, you sound like Jet.

Katara: It's not the same! Jet attacked the innocent. This man, he's a monster.

Sokka: Katara, she was my mother, too, but I think Aang might be right.

Katara: Then you didn't love her the way I did!

Sokka: [Hurt] Katara!

_____

While I believe that Aang’s principles of forgiveness are morally sound, the way he pushes his beliefs onto Katara undermines much of her grief. At first, Aang tries to relate to Katara’s experiences by comparing them to his own, but there is a forceful connotation to his dialogue that suggests that Aang considers himself to be the moral authority compared to Katara. Hence, Aang judges Katara (“I think it’s about getting revenge”) without trying to reach out and understand her, forgoing the empathetic common ground in favor of taking on the moral high ground.

Thus, when Sokka tells Katara, “she was my mother, too, but I think Aang might be right,” Sokka is not only saying that Katara should choose forgiveness, he is implying that Aang is the ultimate moral authority on this matter and that Katara should accept that. Moreover, similarly to Aang, Sokka’s opening line, “she was my mother, too,” had the potential to establish common ground between himself and Katara, but the added “but…” places Sokka on the moral high ground against her instead. Of course, when we remember that just two lines ago Aang equates Katara to Jet, Sokka agreeing with Aang seems even more thoughtless and unsympathetic.

So when Katara lashes out against Sokka, ostensibly “acting as if his grief over his mother’s death is somehow less valid simply because he is a lot quieter in his coping mechanisms and doesn’t project his rage & guilt onto everyone else,” it is important to note that Sokka undermines Katara’s louder, more visible way of grieving as well (though that discounts that for most of the show, Katara only uses her grief over her mother’s death to sympathize with others).

Moreover, Katara’s line, “then you didn't love her the way I did!” is hurtful, yes, but it is not necessarily equivalent to “you didn’t love her as much as I did.” Katara’s love for her mother is different from Sokka’s because her pain over her death is different -- after Kya’s passing, Katara had to carry the emotional burden of becoming a pseudo-mother to Sokka (see Sokka and Toph’s conversation in “The Runaway”), a burden that did not cease after she joined the GAang (see the entirety of “The Desert”). To Katara, Kya was not only her mother, but the representation of the childhood she lost and the sacrifice made to protect her life. Sokka simply does not have that same relationship with Kya.

I do not mean to say that Sokka and Aang unfairly taking on the moral authority in this situation means that this authority instead belongs to Katara (and Zuko) - “The Southern Raiders” is filled with questionable moments from all parties involved. However, TSR is an episode that delves into Katara (and Zuko)’s relationship with a mother’s sacrifice, so how Zuko and Katara respond to this specific trauma from their past does not dictate how they respond to painful circumstances in the present/future. Let’s see how this is true.

Sozin’s Comet, Part 1: The Phoenix King

No doubt Zuko and Katara felt some form of frustration upon Aang’s disappearance, so let’s see how they “[enabled] each other’s rage and emotion-driven decision making”:

Here, Katara and Zuko make a decision together that turns out to be calm, rational, and not at all emotionally-driven despite their mutual frustration and worry towards Aang.

Sozin’s Comet, Part 2: The Old Masters

Zuko holds immense pain and self-loathing over betraying Iroh, yet Zuko and Katara’s conversation does not enable/exacerbate negativity from any party involved (since Zuko often translates his grief into anger, and Katara was evidently angry at Zuko’s betrayal). Instead, their conversation is open, encouraging, and constructive.

(Note: this is where the review of points made by previous metas ends.)

Hence, to say that “[Zuko and Katara] would only bring out the absolute worst in each other [through] enabling each other’s rage and emotion-driven decision making” -  when we are given in-canon examples of the opposite being true - would be a sweeping and inaccurate generalization.

But for the sake of argument let’s say that, hypothetically, Zuko and Katara’s relationship would fail because they only bring out the worst in each other. And here’s where the argument falls apart for me - Is the argument here that Zuko and Katara have an incredibly meaningful friendship yet somehow this “friendship” causes them to enable each other, thus encouraging each other’s worst flaws and regressing each other’s growth? Is a healthy friendship - much less a “deep and profound” one - not one where two individuals can learn from each other in positive ways and balance each other’s shortcomings?

Or is it something different we’re saying here? Are we saying that two individuals can have a “deep and profound” friendship and yet the moment their relationship shifts from platonic to romantic, they are terrible for each other?

While many significant platonic bonds are stunted when they become romantic, I still believe it to be common sense that some of the best romantic relationships stem from a platonic foundation. But since much of “common sense” on the internet sees that “sense” is nonsensical and “common” is a nicer way to refer to mob mentality, I have done my research to show how Zuko and Katara could have been an excellent case of a friends-to-lovers relationship.

An excerpt from my meta, “Research Shows that Zutara Would Have Been the Ideal Friends to Lovers Dynamic.” (give it a read if you want to see references to relationship-research and an overanalysis on diction/tone)

The reason why Zutara is framed as a “toxic and unhealthy” relationship is that their romance would be a classic example of the enemies-to-lovers trope, a trope which modern media has not been particularly kind to. However, when executed correctly, enemies-to-lovers can produce a healthy and loving relationship, frequently relying on friendship as an intermediate between the “enemy” and “lover” stages in the most well-executed versions of this trope. Meanwhile, the trope of friends-to-lovers is just as popular as enemies-to-lovers, though the specific dynamic required between two individuals to achieve this transition is not well-known. Recognizing this, Laura K. Guerrero and Paul A. Mongeau, both of whom are involved in relationship-related research as professors at Arizona State University, wrote a research paper on how friendships may transition into romantic relationships…

According to Guerrero and Mongeau, “...scholars have argued that intimacy is located in different types of interactions, ranging from sexual activity and physical contact to warm, cozy interactions that can occur between friends, family members, and lovers…” Guerrero and Mongeau then reference a relationship model where the initial stages (i.e. perceiving similarities, achieving rapport, and inducing self-disclosure) reflect platonic/romantic intimacy through communication while the latter stages (i.e. role-taking, achieving interpersonal role fit, and achieving dyadic crystallization) often see both individuals as achieving a higher level of intimacy that involves more self-awareness.

In the rest of my research-based meta I demonstrate how Zuko and Katara’s platonic interactions in the show fit into the stages of communicative intimacy (i.e. perceiving similarities, achieving rapport, and inducing self-disclosure) that Guerrero and Mongeau describe as being mutual between friendships and romances. As such, crossing the line between friends and more-than-friends most likely would not cause a dramatic shift in the Zutara dynamic since much of Zuko and Katara’s platonic intimacy easily translates into romantic intimacy. I’ll end off with another excerpt from my meta.

Excerpt from “Research Shows that Zutara Would Have Been the Ideal Friends to Lovers Dynamic.”

“...it would be remiss to simply dismiss the Zutara dynamic as one that would instantly become toxic should they pursue a romantic relationship.”

With that little thought in mind, let’s move onto point 3: an exploration of friendship, romance, and why toxicity is not exclusive to the latter.

Let’s start with what I agree with:

“The entire foundation of mai and zuko’s relationship was built on how miserable they were together, and how they would just sit there and hate the world together— letting their misery fester as they enabled each other’s depression...”

I’m not sure how necessary it is for me to elaborate on this point given that it’s already been accepted by comradekatara and perhaps 60,000+ other users on Tumblr (a gross exaggeration but this remains unimportant), but in her essay, “Zuko, Mai, and the Nature of True Intimacy,” Araeph contributes more nuance to the concept of Ma/iko and mutual misery, stating that,

Unfortunately for [Zuko and Mai’s] relationship, Mai is and will always be a pessimist—a character trait, not a character flaw, in her. The key difference lies in how Mai and Zuko use their negative feelings. When Zuko sinks into negativity, he gives up on any actions that will materially change his world for the better; Mai, on the other hand, can remain negative even at the height of her character development, and it does not impede her ability to act.

So while Mai enables Zuko’s depression, Zuko does not necessarily do the same for Mai. Nonetheless, throughout their relationship for the first half of season 3, neither of them communicate constructively or push each other to grow as people.

This may be the third disclaimer I’m making, but I first want to say I have nothing against Mai. However, I do have something against the idea that “[Mai and Zuko] would work so well as friends if they weren’t trying to make their dumpster fire of a relationship work.”

Their relationship is a dumpster fire, yes, but will the flames cease simply if the amount of intimacy in the relationship changes?

comradekatara state themselves that their entire romantic relationship is quite depressing - they are only able to connect through empty physical intimacy and mutual hatred of the world. Without that, there is little left for them to bond over. Once Zuko overcomes his conflicting morality and inaction from the first half of season 3, he becomes someone who is strongly guided by his principles and beliefs. However, for the entirety of the series, Mai is characterized by her moral apathy. To cite from Araeph again,

It is moral intimacy that is the last and worst omission for Mai and Zuko… Zuko’s struggle to find and follow his principles is the most central aspect of his character, yet it is a struggle Mai neither understands nor respects…

Lack of moral intimacy (not sharing the same core beliefs) is something that applies to both platonic and romantic bonds. Thus, just as transitioning from a meaningful friendship to a romance does not inherently create toxicity in a relationship, switching from a romance that exacerbates one (or both, depending on how you interpret it) party’s misery does not necessarily erase the preexisting negativity in a relationship - perhaps some of it may subside, sure, but as long both parties continue to fail at communicating and understanding each other, even their friendship seems bleak at best. In this case, Mai and Zuko may work well as conditional friends, or in other words, friends who are only friends when they have something to mutually be miserable over. And this tiptoes the line of speculation, but they could be a formidable political team. But unless the Ma/iko dynamic shifts drastically in the lovers-to-friends transition, I’m not sure if there’s much potential in a friendship between them.

In conclusion, there is a lot I don’t agree with from comradekatara’s post, but if there’s one takeaway I want to impart onto everyone who’s read this far, it’s this: crossing and uncrossing the line between platonic and romantic bonds is not always a transformative experience for the relationship, and the nature of human relationships is a complex spectrum -- not a light switch that can only be set between healthy and unhealthy.

Thank you all for reading!