#and what is there is brilliant and flawed and *human*

[k-she-rambles]

Today in "I cannot believe I actually had to say this:"

The Lord of the Rings is not divinely inspired, at least not in THAT way. It's not an elaborate and intentional metaphor for higher truth except in the way all art and creativity is either. Jrrt would fight you

[intermundia]

my favorite thing about anakin as a character is the inherent nuance lucas wrote into his story, like he's neither an innocent victim nor an inherently evil monster, he's just some guy put in a series of Situations and ultimately failing the test of his humility and self-control. he was certainly flattered and shaped by the devil, spiraling into something unrecognizable, but he chose to take every step down the pathway to hell. lucas knew he would lose a certain demographic by making him basically a greedy pawn in the larger story, not a righteous betrayed macho badass, but he did it anyway. he made him an awkward romantic and a loyal friend, a generous boy and a brilliant teen. he made sure he had all the positive qualities that meant that he had potential to be so much more than vader, but it was clearly his choice to lie, murder, and fully squander that potential. there are no excuses for what he became, no acceptable reasons to commit mass slaughter. he became an unbelievably selfish and impatient man, reckless and wantonly violent. hayden captured that nuance so well, nobody can match the sweetness of his smile and the absolute horror of his scowl on mustafar. to view him through a single lens as either pure victim of manipulation and (canonically unsupported) emotional neglect, or a creepy evil villain, denies the heart of his story and the weight of his tragedy. he's neither an angel nor a demon, he's both and neither, he's deeply human, a classical tragic hero with a flaw of greed. lucas made a choice with the prequels to tell a story that not everyone wanted to hear, and the result was a character that i think is one of the best of modern pop culture, mostly because he feels to me so very, very ancient and eternal.

[sonseulsoleil]

doctor who is such a wild show because some episodes will be like “humanity endures. for all our flaws we are stubborn enough, optimistic enough, brilliant enough, to keep on surviving. despite all the pain and loss and tragedy, we keep going. across centuries and galaxies, to the very end of the universe.” and some episodes are like “look there’s a giant space whale” and you never know what you’re gonna get

[rayllurn]

"I too had a daughter. And I loved her deeply, and infinitely. I called her my unicorn because she was born with only one horn. But her horn was only a small part of what made my daughter special. She was unique and quirky. Some saw her as strange or odd, but all I saw was a beautiful, brilliant girl full of unexpected surprises. She didn't care to follow the order set in the stars. Though she was born an immortal being from the heavens, she loved this world, and all its flaws. Her heart was warm and open, and she befriended mortals, animals, elves, and humans. Her name was Leola."

[linkspooky]

Are You Satisfied?

As you might have heard chapter 236 of Jujutsu Kaisen ends with the death of Gojo Satoru. The fandom is making a pretty big deal about it. As someone who predicted from the beginning that Gojo was going to lose against Sukuna, the reaction is fascinating to me. This is perhaps the most controversial chapter of Jujutsu Kaisen I've ever seen. So I've decided to throw my hat into the ring.

The central theme of Jujutsu Kaisen is death, so the death of one of the main characters isn't too surprising, but what does Gojo's death mean for the story? What does it say about his character?

As I said above I am a little bit shocked by the extreme controversy over Gojo's death. Gojo was never going to win the fight in the first place, because Jujutsu Kaisen is a story and the story would be over if he defeated Sukuna. He'd easily be able to take care of Kenjaku afterwards and the main conflcit would be resolved. Would it really be an interesting story if Gojo one shotted the villains while the kids just wathced on Television?

The story is also not about Gojo, it's about the students. Gojo may think he's the protagonist of reality but he's not the protagonist of the story.

Once again, Jujutsu Kaisen is a story and stories have themes. We may grow personally attached to characters, but characters are just narrative tools to convey the themes of a story, no different from prose, dialogue, and art. Characters are a tool to be used well or used poorly, and sometimes yes that means killing them. Whether Gojo's death was naratively satisfying though isn't the purpose of this post though we're only asking what does it mean?

Finally, Jujutsu Kaisen is not only a fictional story, it's specifically a tragedy. Full disclosure, it's a manga about death.

The Protagonist of a Tragedy

So, number one shout out to me for making this post 4 months ago where I called the way Gojo would end the fight.

Excuse me while I fist pump for calling it!

The question on everyone's minds is why does one of the most powerful characters in the manga die offscreen in a pretty humiliating way, cut in half and helpless on the ground just like Kaneki. The reason Gojo didn't get a more heroic (or cooler) death is because we're not reading My Hero Academia, this is not a story about heroes or even a typical Shonen manga it is a tragedy.

In poetics Aristotle defines tragedy as:

"an imitation of an action that is serious, complete, and of a certain magnitude; in language embellished with each kind of artistic ornament, the several kinds being found in separate parts of the play; in the form of action, not of narrative; through pity and fear effecting the proper purgation of these emotions" (51).

To paraphrase a tragedy is about human action, actions characters make in a tragedy often have dire consequences. One of the most common consequences if the reversal of a hero's fortune, a hero of a tragedy usually starts out on top and ends up on the bottom because of the bad choices they make. If in normal shonen manga characters overcome their flaws through effort and persistence, in Jujutsu Kaisen we see characters more often than not lose to their flaws.

The reason I posted that Kaneki panel specifically is because it was a brilliant moment of narrative punishment for Kaneki's central character flaw. Kaneki the hero's main flaw is that he always fights alone, and he constantly makes that same choice over and over again to fight alone. One of the characters helpfully explains it as well.

Stories are primarily about change. If a character doesn't change they're not serving the plot, unless that specifically is the point. People have pointed out how abrupt it is for Gojo to get sealed in Shibuya, get let out, and then immediately die afterwards but that's kind of the point. Gojo made more or less the exact same choice (he asked for Utahime's help for a buff but otherwise fought the entire battle himself). The definition of insanity and what not, why would doing the same thing over and over again net him a different result?

Not only did Gojo choose to fight alone, but as I've been hammering on and on about in previous meta the entire fight Gojo cared more about fighting a strong opponent then he did saving Megumi, the child he was responsible for.

Jujutsu Kaisen is not a typical shonen manga where everything is resolved by beating a strong villain in a fight. That's specifically why I used the Tokyo Ghoul reference, because the reason Kaneki is defeated offscreen like that is because he thought the world worked like a shonen manga. He has a fantasy sequence where he's fighting Juzo in a shonen battle tournament like this is Yu Yu Hakusho right before it snaps back to reality and he's limbless on the ground.

Gojo is a major character in the manga Jujutsu Kaisen, literally "Sorcery Fight" and he is the best sorcerer in the whole world. His entire identity revolves around being a sorcerer. Since he is so good and beloved at what he does, he thinks that everything is resolved by exorcising a curse or defeating a strong opponent. He has basically no identity outside of that. Which is why when he's fighting the possessed body of his student, a person he's been mentoring since childhood his priority is not to save Megumi but to beat a strong opponent. Gojo is a sorcerer, before a human being. That's who he is, that's who he always has been since day one.

I think part of the negative fan reaction comes from fans being really attached to this scene in the manga and deciding Gojo's entire character revolves around being a good mentor figure to children.

Which is just incorrect, Gojo's entire character revolves around being the strongest. On top of that though, Gojo can care about children and also care about being the strongest he can care about multiple things at once and have those things contradict each other because humans are complicated. I'd point out even in this panel where he's stating motivation he's not trying to raise these kids up into being healthy adults, he wants them to be strong Jujutsu Sorcerers. Even when he's raising kids, his intention is to turn them into Jujutsu Sorcerers because everything in Gojo's mind revolves around Jujutsu Sorcery. Gojo does not exist outside of the world of sorcerers. Gojo may be the chosen one but he'd never be able to hold down a job at Mcdonalds.

I think in general readers put more investment in the things characters say out loud, rather than their actions. You can say one thing and do another. I can say "I should never eat sweets again I'm going to improve my diet", and then go and eat ice cream five hours later. Gojo can state out loud his intention to foster children and protect their youths, but then fail to properly do that in the story. Characters are not always what they say they are, that's why they're interesting to interpret. This isn't me calling the readers stupid, just pointing out that Gojo is made up of contradictions. He wants to get rid of the old guard and replace them with something new, but Gojo IS THE OLD GUARD.

If the culling games arc has shown us one thing, it's that ancient sorcerers brought to the modern age do not care that much about human life on an individual level, they are all of them egoists. There's a reason Gojo resembles someone like Sukuna more than he does any other character in the manga. I'm not saying Gojo is exactly like Sukuna, he's far more altruistic and uses his genuinely noble ideals but at the same time Sukuna is a shadow archetype to Gojo he represents Gojo's flaws. The flaws that Gojo succumbs to in tragic fashion.

Which if you believe that Gojo genuinely does love his students, and the ideal he's fighting for is to raise up a better generation and allow them to live out their youths, then Gojo throughout the entire Sukuna fight is acting against those ideals. He cares far more about fighting Sukuna then he does saving Megumi, it's shown over and over again in the battle, Megumi is an afterthought to him. If Gojo care moredefeating the big bad and saving the world is more important than helping a child that Gojo is responsible for then Gojo is acting against his stated principles. Why should Gojo win the fight when he's fighting for all the wrong reasons?

Tragedies are like visual novels, if you make the wrong choice the novel will give you a red flag. If you ignore the red flag then you get locked into the route with the bad ending. Gojo always fights alone. Gojo only ever fights for himself, even if he's using that selfishness in support of a more noble ideal like creating a better generation of sorcerers. If Gojo consecutively makes the same changes then in a tragedy he's not going to be rewarded for it.

Gojo wants the old generation out and the new generation in, but Gojo resembles the old generation too much. Old sorcerers like Hajime and Sukuna respect him, Hajime argues that Gojo being able to fight for his pride is far more important than him living to the end of the battle when Yuta wanted to interfere and help him.

Gojo's death isn't a surprise curve ball that Gege is throwing us for shock value, it's a result of his choices throughout the manga. A manga about change, and the change between generations is not going to punish a character for remaining roughly the same. Of course you might find it disappointing that Gege didn't give Gojo the chance to grow and change and experience a character arc like Megumi or Yuji, but Jujutsu Kaisen is a tragedy, and the way Gojo's arc ended is consistent with what Gege wrote.

Jujutsu Kaisen is not just a tragedy though, it's a manga about death. The manga begins with Yuji's grandfather warning him not to die alone the way that he did. His grandfather's dying words are what motivate Yuji throughout the beginning of the manga as he's searching for a "proper" death.

One of the major themes of Yuji's character is a contemplation of death. He accepts that death is inevitable, so he wants to save them from the gruesome deaths they'd experience if they became victims to curses and allow them to have a more satisfying death. Yuji's grandpa died an unsatisfying death because he died alone in a hospital room. Yuji even tries to make his own death a satisfying one because he believes by dying to seal away Sukuna he'll reduce the total number of casualties to curses.

Jujutsu Kaisen keeps investigating the theme of death and what exactly would make for a satisfying death. At one point it's all but stated that death is the mirror that makes humans analyze their lives.

When Yuji fails to save Junpei from the "unnatural death" it calls into question whether or not his goal of saving people from unsatisfying deaths and the gruesome deaths caused by curses is even feasible. Nanami even says that Yuji might not be able to accomplish his goal and warns him away from the path.

We see repeated unsatifying deaths in the manga, each time someone reflecting on their deaths that they weren't able to get what they wanted out of life. This list comes via @kaibutsushidousha by the way I'm quoting them.

Nanami's a character who chose to work as a sorcerer because he didn't want to evade the responsibility of doing all you can to help people, he wanted to believe he's somewhere where he's needed. He never runs away from responsibility like Mei Mei does so he quite literally works himself to death, living and dying as a sorcerer. Nanami or Gojo's dying hallucination of Nanami even says as much, his death is the result of him choosing to go south and returning to be a sorcerer.

Maki chose revenge against the Zen'in over her sister, and as a result Mai is dead. Maki has all the power in the world now, her revenge complete but she's left with a sense of "now what?" She's as strong as Toji now but she failed to protect her sister, and it's the result of the choices she made. Maki's reflection isn't triumph, it's "I should have chosen to die with her."

Even Yuji himself is robbed of his narrative purpose. The manga began with Yuji saying he wants to choose how he's going to die and he'll die taking out Sukuna with him so he can reduce the number of people killed by curses in the world. Both of those things are thrown in Sukuna's face. Number one the amount of people Yuji can save by permanently killing Sukuna is now a moot point because he let Sukuna rampage in Shibuya.

Number two, Sukuna isn't even in Yuji anymore. To build on what Comun said though, this repeated tragedy has a purpose to it and understanding requires understanding that Jujutsu Kaisen is an existentialist manga. Existentialism is basically a school of philosophy centered around the question of "Why do I exist?"

There's nothing about the invetability of death to make you question why you're alive in the first place. In the myth of Sispyhus, Albert Camus boils down all of philosophy to one question.

"There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy. "

All of philosophy is should I shoot myself in the head or should I keep living? Everything comes after that question, which is why in Jujutsu Kaisen a lot of the characters motivations revolve around them contemplating death. Sorcerers exist in a world where they can die any moment, and as Gojo says most of them die alone. It might be the nature of sorcery itself that causes so many people to die, not only are they dying because they are trapped in an uncaring system, but the characters themselves aren't really attempting to live outside of it. They live and die as sorcerers, replaceable cogs in the machine.

All of these unsatisfying deaths may just be the result of all these characters making one choice, to live as sorcerers rather than people. Because to exist means to live in the world.

Even in Mechamaru's case, his goal is deeply existentialist by what I defined, all he wants to do is live in the world with everyone else rather than be stuck in his hospital room but his actions contradict that goal. Instead of letting his friends come and visit he's obsessed with the idea of getting a normal body because he feels that's the only way he can exist with everyone else, he makes a deal with the devil, he lies and goes behind their backs. He wasn't living with everyone else in the world and he could have chosen to, he chose wrong and his death is the result of that choice.

Jujutsu Sorcerers aren't living in the world. They're living in a little snowglobe far removed from the world with its own rules, most of them regressive and disconnected from the rest of society. If you define existentialism as just "living in the world' then a lot of these characters aren't, because they only exist in the world of sorcery.

INVISIBLE BUFFY: What are you talking ab- SPIKE: The only reason you're here, is that you're not here. (drinking) INVISIBLE BUFFY: Right. Of course, as usual there's something wrong with Buffy. She came back all wrong. (moving around on the bed) You know, I didn't ask for this to happen to me. SPIKE: Not too put off by it though, are you? (drinking) INVISIBLE BUFFY: No! Maybe because for the first time since ... I'm free. She tosses the sheet aside. Spike looks around, trying to figure out where she's going. INVISIBLE BUFFY: Free of rules and reports ... free of this life. SPIKE: Free of life? Got another name for that. Dead.

Not living in the world with everyone else is the same as being dead.

A lot of these characters either make the choice to act alone, or be a jujutsu sorcerer rather than a person and because of that they die as sorcerers, b/c sorcerers die that's what they do. Mai didn't want to keep living as a hindrance to Maki so she kills herself. Maki didn't want to be anything other than a sorcerer, so her little sister dies and she's not a big sister anymore. Nanami chose to leave his job behind and become a sorcerer again, he dies as one.

Of course I don't think the manga is punishing characters for being too egotistical, but rather too unbalanced. If anything Mai is too selfless and that is why she died, she didn't want to live for herself and chooses self sacrifice for her sister. An unbalance between selfishness or selflessness results in an underdeveloped ego. Jujutsu Kaisen doesn't punish individualism per se, moreso if you're not a fully developed individual you won't last long. Because it's also a manga about growing up in the world, and a person who doesn't have a healthy, mature, well-balanced sense of self is not a grown up.

This twitter user det_critics points out that Gojo (and also Yuki + Yuji's) failures in the manga can be attributed to the fact they don't have real senses of self.

Gojo has an identity crisis as outlined by Geto, "are you Satoru Gojo because you're the strongest, or are you the strongest because you're Satoru Gojo?"

It's a challenge for him to find some reason to live outside of being the strongest, and in tragic fashion Gojo just doesn't find it in time. Gojo lived for fighting others, and proving to himself that he's the strongest, and that's how he dies.

There's something I like to say about narrative punishment in stories. There are two ways to punish a character, you either don't give them what they want, or you give them exactly what they want. This is the latter, Gojo wanted to find someone stronger than him because deep down he believed that nobody could understand him unless they were on his level. He wanted to be surpassed, and that's why he focused on creating stronger young sorcerers, but he never shook himself of the belief that only someone as strong or even stronger than he was could ever be emotionally attached to him so he made a deliberate choice to draw a line between himself and others.

Gojo's essentially gotten what he wanted from that choice in the worst way possible. The student he picked to succeed him Megumi, has his body stolen and kills him. Gojo is surpassed, but it's not by one of his own students it's by an enemy that's not only trying to kill Gojo but is going to massacre his students afterwards.

Gojo's spent his entire life believing that because he's more powerful that makes him inherently different and above others, and being lonely because he himself believed he couldn't relate to ordinary people and he dies like an ordinary person, an unsatisfying death where he wasn't able to bring out Sukuna's best, where he gets unceremoniously cut in half offscreen but yay he's no longer the strongest. He's gotten exactly what he wanted. Megumi is still not saved, Sukuna's probably going to kill more people because Gojo failed to stop him here, but hey at least he stopped to compliment Gojo.

It's empty, but it's empty because of the choices Gojo made in life to just not bother connecting to people or develop any kind of identity besides being a sorcerer. Gojo lives and dies as a sorcerer, and his dying dream is returning to a teenager being surrounded by everyone he was with during his school days, because that's the happiest time in his life. Ironically he was happier before he became the strongest, because that was the only time in his life that he allowed himself to connect to people.

However in the eyes of others, he is someone who has it all. That's why he is always alone. There was no one who could hold the same sentiments and mutually understand him. Geto was the only one who could understand what he was trying to say, and the only one who could communicate well with him.

It's no coincidence Gojo and Geto die exactly a year apart on the same day, if anything I'd say the reasons they die are similiar to at least thematically. They both die because they don't want to live in the world. Geto thinks the world is too corrupt and GOjo doesn't want to be anything other than a sorcerer, both of them fail to adapt.

「 'It's just. . .' It's just that it was what Geto had to do. [...] To someone like him, the reality that the world of sorcerers presented to him was just too cruel. '. . .that in a world like this, I couldn't truly be happy from the bottom of my heart.'」

They can't be happy in a world like this from the bottom of their hearts, so narratively they both die. The things they chose to live for at the end of their life they fail to accomplish, Gojo is no longer the stronget, Geto fails to wipe out mankind or make major changes to the world and they die as normal people unsatisfied because they weren't trying to live in the world and make connections to others. They die almost karmically a year apart because their main connection for both of them, the thing which made them feel connected to the world and other people was each other.

Which is why this panel breaks my heart and is so narratively satisfying because of how unsatisfying it is...

"If you were among those patting my back... then I might've been satisfied."

Gojo reflects that he's not satisfied dying against Sukuna, not because he failed to give him a good enough challenge but because Geto wasn't there to pat him on the back. The one thing that would have satisfied him he couldn't have, because he didn't live to connect to people he lived to be the strongest and he died alone as the strongest. There's just something deeply upsetting about Gojo's dying dream fantasy just him being there talking with all of his dead friends who he never appreciated or connected to properly when he was alive. Knowing that if something had just gone a little differently, that even if he had to die no matter what he could have died happier if Geto was among the people saying goodbye to him because that connection with Geto is what gave his life meaning.

Dazai Osamu: "A life with someone you can say good-bye to is a good life, especially when it hurts so much to say it to them. Am I wrong?" -Bungou Stray Dogs Beast

[gingermintpepper]

In my Zeus bag today so I'm just gonna put it out there that exactly none of the great Ancient Greek warrior-heroes stayed loyal and faithful and completely monogamous and yet none of them have their greatness questioned nor do we question why they had the cultural prominence that they did and still do.

Jason, the brilliant leader of the Argo, got cold feet when it came to Medea - already put off by some of her magic and then exiled from his birthland because of her political ploys, he took Creusa to bed and fully intended on marrying her despite not properly dissolving things with Medea.

Theseus was a fierce warrior and an incredibly talented king but he had a horrible temper and was almost fatally weak to women. This is the man who got imprisoned in the Underworld for trying to get a friend laid, the man who started the whole Attic War because he couldn't keep his legs closed.

And we cannot at all forget Heracles for whom a not inconsiderable amount of his joy in life was loving people then losing the people around him that he loved. Wives, children, serving boys, mentors, Heracles had a list of lovers - male and female - long enough to rival some gods and even after completing his labours and coming down to the end of his life, he did not have one wife but three.

And y'know what, just because he's a cultural darling, I'll put Achilles up here too because that man was a Theseus type where he was fantastic at the thing he was born to do (that is, fight whereas Theseus' was to rule) but that was not enough to eclipse his horrid temper and his weakness to young pretty things. This is the man that killed two of Apollo's sons because they wouldn't let him hit - Tenes because he refused to let Achilles have his sister and Troilus who refused Achilles so vehemently that he ran into Apollo's temple to avoid him and still couldn't escape.

All four of these men are still celebrated as great heroes and men. All four of these men are given the dignity of nuance, of having their flaws treated as just that, flaws which enrich their character and can be used to discuss the wider cultural point of what truly makes a hero heroic. All four of these men still have their legacies respected.

Why can that same mindset not be applied to Zeus? Zeus, who was a warrior-king raised in seclusion apart from his family. Zeus who must have learned to embrace the violence of thunder for every time he cried as a babe, the Corybantes would bang their shields to hide the sound. Zeus learned to be great because being good would not see the universe's affairs in its order.

The wonderful thing about sympathy is that we never run out of it. There's no rule stopping us from being sympathetic to multiple plights at once, there's no law that necessitate things always exist on the good-evil binary. Yes, Zeus sentenced Prometheus to sufferation in Tartarus for what (to us) seems like a cruel reason. Prometheus only wanted to help humans! But when you think about Prometheus' actions from a king's perspective, the narrative is completely different: Prometheus stole divine knowledge and gifted it to humans after Zeus explicitly told him not to. And this was after Prometheus cheated all the gods out of a huge portion of wealth by having humans keep the best part of a sacrifice's meat while the gods must delight themselves with bones, fat and skin. Yes, Zeus gave Persephone away to Hades without consulting Demeter but what king consults a woman who is not his wife about the arrangement of his daughter's marriage to another king? Yes, Zeus breaks the marriage vows he set with Hera despite his love of her but what is the Master of Fate if not its staunchest slave?

The nuance is there. Even in his most bizarre actions, the nuance and logic and reason is there. The Ancient Greeks weren't a daft people, they worshipped Zeus as their primary god for a reason and they did not associate him with half the vices modern audiences take issue with. Zeus was a father, a visitor, a protector, a fair judge of character, a guide for the lost, the arbiter of revenge for those that had been wronged, a pillar of strength for those who needed it and a shield to protect those who made their home among the biting snakes. His children were reflections of him, extensions of his will who acted both as his mercy and as his retribution, his brothers and sisters deferred to him because he was wise as well as powerful. Zeus didn't become king by accident and it is a damn shame he does not get more respect.

[maaikeatthefullmoon]

Once upon a time, there was a Good Omens fanfiction reader, who swore they didn't like AUs.

They read all the discussions about the 'classics', the 'must reads' and shrugged.

"But it's not canon", they muttered to themself. "They're not human. How on Earth can anyone write these stories about them when they're not actually bloody human? It’s not right."

And then, dear reader, they were persuaded to read just one AU. They were still an angel and a demon, just in a slightly different universe. And then...then they tried a human AU. And then...then they were hooked. Obsessed, one might say.

That reader, dear reader, was me. Of course. Obviously. Well, duh. And I would like to share the obsession in the form of some recommendations.

I have the wonderful @shadesofecclescakes to thank for MANY of these absolute beauties, she is absolutely the QUEEN of recommendations (and medicinal gifs).

So, now, in no particular order, some Highly Recommended AUs:

Or Be Nice by charlottemadison Rated E - A is a bookseller, C is a drummer, they are BOTH petty bitches. They're newly neighbours. C has a CAT and I'm there for it, he also has migraines and I hard relate. It's bitchy and the pranks were DIVINE. It was also deliciously spicy. The loveliness is that the author really captured the flawed nature of humans but also how it can be overcome. Same author as What We Make of It (what was Shotgun Wedding - an absolute GO AU CLASSIC and one of the best things I've ever read)

Not a Mounted Dildo but a Fuck Machine by NaroMoreau & summerofspock Rated E - So very, very E. This one was just filthy. So wonderfully filthy. The authors would like to tell you there was no plot to their porn, but there really was. A meets a girl online, because A is straight. He really is. Honest. But then, oops, lockdown happens. But, it's a good thing, really. For his best homeboy C is there, to help this poor virgin 'learn the ropes' for when lockdown is over and he goes on his first date...with the girl he's so very much into...coz, no homo, yo...;)

The Whole Damned World Seemed Upside Down by WyvernQuill Rated M - An AU in the way that it's still angel/demon but after Crowley makes a wish for things to be 'different', the universe obliges...and he's dumped into a reality which is very, very different to what he knew. He learns some truths and there's a whole lot of drama. Beautifully written with a wonderful plot and great drama. Excellently described and would make for great TV. (Oh, and Death in the new reality is really squeamish - it's brilliant.)

Telling Tall Tales by Siobhans_World Rated E - A sweet pretend relationship fic, where A pretends to be Maggie's boyfriend to help her pass as straight for her family. But he then meets her cousin, C, who he then inevitably (ineffably?) falls for. Miscommunication, angst, fluff, gay panic, it's got everything.

Flawless by @mrghostrat & @chernozemm Rated E - I've decided only to include one fic by each author and boyyy was it hard for ghostrat! But Flawless was, well, flawless. For such a relatively short story, it kept us guessing until the end. The characters were all beautifully written - the flaws (ha.) were DEEP and CRACKED but so fucking perfectly sculpted and presented. It was incredibly real and believable. Extremely maturely written and satisfying. AND THE ART!!!

How To Pull An Angel: A Bunnings DIY Guide by NascentSurrender Rated M - When I first saw the title, I thought it was going to be a silly, irreverent, comedy romp. But it was actually a funny, well written story that will stick in my mind always. Firstly, C watches Bluey - which is now CANON for me. Secondly, having lived in Aus as a child, I've got a soft spot for the country anyway, and I've barely ever seen it come up, so this was lovely. There were some wonderfully humorous bits, but also tender and beautiful moments that I adored.

Montreal Confidential by Maggie_Honeybite Rated E - I learned about Montreal (and Canada & their baked goods), classical music and mafia stuff in this fic. A is a widower. C plays the cello. His cello's name is Bentley. This is one of the only age-gap, mild D/s fics I've actually gotten into. There's fluff AND drama. CW for non-con (not A/C)

Under the Summer Stars by @pannotbread Rated E - an amazing astrophysics/astroecology/astrobiology fic that has pining, slow burn and Only One Telescope (yes, really, and it's everything you'd imagine). It's got beautifully written (erotic) imagery and So Much Science that's been written accessibly but still with amazing detail. It's poetry. It's hot. It's gorgeous. CW for internalised homophobia and self hatred. *Not completed yet*

Oddity by @tsyvia48 Rated E - A museum fic! About David Bowie! A is in charge of collections, C is an actor hired by (highly incompetent) Gabriel to guest curate a new Bowie exhibit. Miscommunication ensues for delicious tension. There's bitchiness, there's a bit of light angst, there's a lotta love. *Not Completed Yet* Poetry Carved In Flesh by @fellandcrow Rated E - I'm obsessed by tattoos. Hence, I am obsessed by this story. I'm planning a(n enormous) GO tattoo once GO3 is out, and this fic has actually helped me with my ideas. London-based A stalks lovingly follows Edinburgh-based tattoo artist C online. They build up a rapport. Well, C likes A. A is SMITTEN with C. C encourages A to get tattoos. Which he does. C designs a tattoo especially for A, the fic has currently left off at the point where C is in London and going to tattoo A. *Not Completed Yet*

There Is A Light & It Never Goes Out by @phoen1xr0se Rated M - A escapes from a disappointing, chaotic life to a remote island for five months to do research on puffins. There he meets lighthouse keeper C. Who also ran away, 20 odd years ago. There is a chaotic, found family on the island, but it is small, and it is lovely. This fic is written with love and passion and the imagery is so beautiful. The author has actually gone to do Actual. Physical. Research. on puffins. So how is THAT for dedication? Cannot wait until it resumes. *Not Completed Yet*

Ok, because I am Bad At Tumblr, I've not tagged the majority of authors, if you are on here - please let me know if you're here and I'll edit!

I should probably add in the following, I suppose. I'm writing an AU.

Free by, well, me. Imposterssyndrome (yes I know it's Imposter Syndrome, but that one already existed) Rated E - A runs a bookshop, C has an unfortunate past as a runaway ex-addict. They meet in an acute mental health ward after both having had a mental health crisis. Eventually A invites C to move in, and they navigate sharing a space, and their lives together. The story starts heavy, and is an emotional roller coaster, but there are moments of fluff and smut mixed in. There is a happy ending, I promise. It's a passion project, heavily researched and has a LOT of lived experience in it. I've gotten to know some amazing people through it who have messaged me and shared their experiences and I'm so glad I wrote it. *Not Completed Yet*

Last thing to say - once I finish Free, I will be teaming up with @shadesofecclescakes to write another human AU which is VERY much in her wheelhouse and I CANNOT FUCKING WAIT. I just know you're all going to LOVE it. The only thing that will make it even better is ART, so we're still on the hunt for someone.

**Last-last thing to say. I’ve missed off a few Biggies. There are some super popular AUs, mostly written around 2019. Most people will have read them. I’ve tried to focus on the perhaps lesser-known & WIP ones. Although I know many people don’t read WIPs, hopefully you’ll (book)mark them for future!**

[dekariosclan]

Hello my friend!

So we all know how amazing and wonderful Gale is, how kind, good, caring and funny he is. He is, in so many ways, a perfect man.

He is, however, only human. I have the tendency to idealise him, and forget this.

My question to you is - what do you think his flaws are? Both generally and as a husband/life partner.

💜

Ohhh I love this question so much ❤️ I am a hopeless romantic, and I adore Gale’s charming, sweet, loving adorkableness! He is truly amazing—but I can confirm NOBODY (and no relationship) is ever 100% perfect.

The thing about a long-term committed relationship is that, while your partner’s charms make the relationship wonderful, their flaws are what make it REAL. And that’s just as important.

So let’s talk about our charming Gale’s less-than-charming aspects, shall we?

[warning: this went from a short & concise answer to a rambling dissertation, please prepare yourself accordingly! Also I know this ask/answer was supposed to make Gale a little less perfect and help lessen our obsession, but uhhhh, I seem to have veered hard in the opposite direction 😂]

———

First off: The Pomposity™️ (I’m not 100% certain that’s even a real word but you know what I mean right) So we all know that by the end of the game, (human) Gale has come to accept himself as he is, and decided to henceforth be known as ‘Gale Dekarios, a most brilliant wizard of intentionally limited reknown.’ He’s come a lonnng way in cutting down his ego, but let’s be honest: some of it will never truly go away. And that’s fair, because he IS brilliant, and he IS talented, and he IS extremely passionate about magic.

…but it’s tough to remember all that and give him a pass when that usually-oh-so-adorable-finger-in-the-air is now aimed at YOU, as he declares that ‘after all, he IS an expert on [*insert topic here*] because he WAS awarded [*insert scholarly award here*] from the one and only [*insert impressive Blackstaff Academy professor here.*]’

And all you wanted was for your opinion to be taken into consideration regarding the wine selection at dinner.

———

Second: The Disarray / Messiness. Gale has a brilliant mind, one that he applies full throttle to any and all situations: concentration on magic spells, lance board strategy, calculations, poring over ancient tomes, and even figuring out how to cook something edible out of rotting fish heads and some moldy cheese (no veggies, though!)

The problem is, while his mind is brilliant and he will keep it laser-focused on his chosen subject at that current moment, from a day-to-day perspective he is straight-up scatter brained with all the things he has his hands in. We can see this in his vision of his tower: BOOKS. BOOKS EVERYWHERE. Some stacked in piles, some shoved onto shelves, some left open on the page he was reading when he got distracted, etc.

We also get confirmation of this from Tara in the epilogue:

Tara: The way he leaves his potions in absolute disarray—I know for certain he wasn’t raised in a barn, but you’d never know it.

It’s one thing to have books & potions & scrolls scattered throughout his library and sitting room—you have no complaints against that, you HAVE moved in with/married a wizard, after all—but to find them in the kitchen, wine cellar, even occasionally stuffed into your own wardrobe? It’s a bit much.

TLDR: Our rizzard is a hot mess.

———

Which leads us into perhaps his biggest flaw: The Fussiness.

So about all those books everywhere, on everything, all at once? You didn’t try and ARRANGE them or organize them for him, did you?…You did?! Oh, gods! No, no, he had an ORDER to them, you see, and he knew that the exact spell he needed could be found in the third book down in the stack next to the piano, page 453, why did you ever decide to move it?

Well, you explain as patiently as you can, it was in the way, and frankly you could tell from the dust on it that he hadn’t touched it in several yea—

BY ELMINSTER’S ELBOW, did you ALPHABETIZE his illusion scrolls??! Oh, for the love of—!

You get the picture.

There would undoubtedly be moments when you found yourself fully exasperated by this man and his exacting, fussy nature.

———

All that being said: true fights would be rare.

The occasional huffy remark or quickly-forgotten gripe would occur now and then as in any relationship, but a real, anger-filled argument? With heightened emotions and hurt feelings? Rare indeed.

The only thing bigger than Gale’s brain is his heart. And while his mind is dedicated to a great many things as mentioned above (magic studies, lance board, etc) his heart is 100% dedicated TO YOU, and you alone. So on those rare occasions after a fight has occurred, it does not take long for him to come down from the heat of the moment and realize, oh, hells, he’s been an ass, hasn’t he?

He knows you love him. His anxiety about not being enough for you has long since disappeared, and he’s calmed his worries that you would ever leave him, but still…there’s always a lingering concern that maybe you’ll grow distant from him after an argument.

If you are in the wrong and he is certain of it, he will be stiffly polite until you offer an apology, and then he will be taking you in his arms, kissing you passionately and telling you ‘all is forgiven my love, let’s never speak of this again’ (and trying hard to hide his relief that you apologized first, because he was not sure how long he would be able to hold out and stay mad at you.)

If HE is in the wrong, though? And you are truly mad at him? And he knows he really stuck his foot in it? Oh, boy.

You’ll be treated to an apology so eloquent it would make poets weep, and it will come packaged with hand-holding, pouting, pleading, and Gale getting down on his (bad) knees.

And if you’re still mad at him after that?

Well, then you’ll have to complete a gauntlet harder than anything Shar could ever throw at you. You’ll have to try and stay angry, explain your anger, AND explain to Gale why he won’t be easily forgiven, all while looking directly at this:

And this:

AND THIS:

…

…needless to say you will be failing, and hard.

Not that you mind, because the make-up sex will be absolutely phenomenal. Gale doesn’t just want to repair your loving bond after you’ve had an argument, he wants to improve it. Which requires much study and experimentation, of course.

And for awhile afterwards, all will be bliss again.

…until you find a pile of scrolls shoved under your side of the bed, and some open books scattered across your dresser, and you decide it time to do some organizing. ———

So yes, my friend. Gale definitely does have some flaws, and at some point they WOULD drive you crazy in any sort of relationship you have with him. Gale is wonderful, Gale is loving, but Gale isn’t perfect!!

…but when he takes you in his arms after you’ve made up, and his mouth is hungrily devouring yours, and he’s murmuring words of adoration against your skin as he trails his kisses down your neck, chest, hips—

Nevermind! I take it all back. He’s perfect. 😂

[sugar-grigri]

THIS CHAPTER IS A HYMN TO FOOD

I agree with all those who see this 131st chapter as the one that best represents why Fujimoto's writing is so good, so effective.

But it's so good not just because it's funny and absurd, but because even in the absurdity, we find answers and meaning.

It makes sense that Nayuta and Fami, who are still demons, should act like demons, that they shouldn't be guided by some kind of morality.

It's brilliant, because it's precisely this pseudo morality and duty that we've tried to model on a demon that created the horror that was Makima.

Fami and Nayuta are based on a connection with humans

In a purely rudimentary logic, demons are the natural hunters of demons being their main cause of death.

The fact that the choice to save humanity is based on food shows that, on the contrary, there is not a shred of humanity among demons, who think instinctively: through hunger and pleasure.

By a bond, yes, but a functional one

What this chapter tells us about Nayuta is that she is first and foremost a demon, but that she was raised by Denji.

The fact that she automatically refuses because she's got school is great fun, but it also shows that Denji is a good big brother who puts a lot of emphasis on her education.

Just like the fact that he saves up every penny to pay for her university education, because he thinks she's brilliant.

Denji is very self-aware and knows that his lack of education is a weakness because he thinks instinctively.

He also shares Reze's dream of going to school.

If Reze is a laboratory mouse for the USSR, a veritable weapon of war and propaganda, it's because education is a way of avoiding control.

Denji also knows that controlling the demon of control exacerbates her nature and flaws through Makima.

SO, more than a hymn to food, it's a hymn to free will.

[togglesbloggle]

In Defense of Bad Things

'Bad' here meaning mostly 'amateur'; stuff made enthusiastically by people at an unprofessional level. Art with visible gaps between what the artist imagined and what they achieved, products of flawed craftsmanship. I suppose everybody can appreciate them to some extent, it's a rare parent that doesn't put up their kid's drawings on the fridge in one way or another. But it turns out to be a fully general skill you can cultivate, and the more I do, the more I'm glad I did.

Partly, it's the teacher thing; finding delight in amateur work is one of the ways to find delight in the process of learning. Cultivating a love of striving-qua-striving can help make you a force for good in the world, as people start to feel safe trying to do things when you're around, even when their efforts are wobbly. You get to participate a little more in the process of atoms spinning themselves into ideas, even when there aren't any illusions about whether you're helping cultivate some revolutionary genius in the field.

And partly it's a fabulous way to build community. By necessity, our professional-level skills tend to be at the service of other people, performed for economic benefit; that's kind of how you get professionally good at something in the first place. When we're acting for our own sake, and among friends, most of what we do with one another is amateurish. I only cook middling-okay, I can't hold a tune that well, I'll never be a speed runner for anything. If you can only enjoy singing from the hundred best singers in the whole world, manufactured and polished by major studios, then you and your friends will sit shoulder-to-shoulder and passively listen to music. But it's so much richer an experience to sit face-to-face, actually singing together, even badly; you expose yourself to so many new ways to appreciate and respect one another, building relationships on what you've accomplished and not just by witty criticism or liking the same things.

And partly it's because some of the most powerful and innovative artistic experiences are in high-churn environments with low expectations and low barriers to entry, if only because those catch the passionate and driven young people that have been otherwise overlooked by our systems. The golden age of webcomics meant that a ton of the actual art involved was pretty lousy, but it also produced work that people still talk about today. D&D began as a profoundly unpolished collection of handmade rulebooks sold at cons in a plastic baggie. By the time these products of enthusiastic amateurs filter themselves through various levels of popularity and absorb mainstream cash influx, they're often risk-averse and missing a lot of the bold spark that inspired their fans in the first place; others will simply never drift towards the mainstream at all. I'm not saying you should be the person who goes out to dig through the slush piles of the internet looking for overlooked art, unless you want to be-- but sometimes a work of actual staggering genius also happens to be a Supernatural fanfic by a first-time author who's a little hazy on commas, and if that's a dealbreaker, you're going to miss out on some profoundly valuable experiences.

And hiding behind all of these things is, like...

Our appreciation of beauty has an odd structure, right? When things are done very skillfully, by brilliant artists with years of training, we can usually appreciate those accomplishments. And when we're looking at nature without human influence, and especially when we think very deeply about natural processes and understand them in context, we often rediscover that sense of beauty. There's just this bizarre hole in the middle where we declare things 'ugly'; as if a little skill is worse than none at all.

I really don't trust that gap. It feels like a trick my brain is playing on me, you know? It has me suspicious that a lot of what I consider 'ugly' or 'bad' is not a very direct experience of the world at all, or an informed judgment. That it is, rather, a declaration of (self-, social-) identity; a desire to be seen as a person of good taste, or as somebody who does things well, or just more primitively as one of the monkeys who is in the good-stuff-tribe and not one of the monkeys who is in the bad-stuff-tribe.

[avocado-writing]

Please write ANYTHING Crowley x reader! Preferably smut but I'll take anything

suggestive, not smutty. crowley x reader (good omens)

if you like what I do, here’s my ko-fi!

“Someone is going to see us.”

“Nobody is going to see us,” Crowley hums in response, leaving a trail of kisses along the line of your neck. He gives a gentle lick at your pulse and you melt in his embrace, but not enough to totally give in. 

“Crowley we’re in the middle of the bloody street!”

“It’s nighttime. Humans don’t have brilliant vision in the dark, if I recall. One of their design flaws.”

You sit up, shoving him away just enough for you to look at him properly. 

“We are in London. Someone is always watching, trust me.”

Crowley groans and looks around, finally relenting to your argument. Outside the Bentley isn’t pitch black, of course not; the streetlights see to that. But with a wave of his hand every single bulb on the road goes out with a pop. You harrumph gently. 

“A passer-by could still look in the window and see you having your wicked way with me.”

“Oh? And what if I’d like that?”

You roll your eyes, knowing that his own are lit up devilishly behind his glasses. 

“Crowley…”

“Fine, fine.”

He opens his mouth and lets out a long, hot breath. As he does so all of the windows on the inside of the Bentley fog up with steam, obscuring the two of you completely. It’s not an ideal solution - when someone calls the power company to fix the lights, the fact the car is rocking like mad will probably be a dead giveaway - but you’ll let it slide for now. 

“Alright then, handsome,” you laugh, taking his glasses and slinging them into the front seat, “I’m all yours.”

His thin pupils dilate, and, for a little while, he makes you totally forget you’re on a main street in Soho. 

[boy-in-red-dress]

HEAR ME OUT, so I made a list of Ford and Bill's character traits and how they compliment each other. Ford and Bill's relationship is a rather interesting and twisted dynamic which is one of the reasons why I like them a lot. So let's start with my interpretation of the two characters...

Stanford Pines

He a deeply intricate character, shaped by a life that have left him both brilliant and broken. Born as one of two twins, Ford’s life has been a constant struggle with self-worth and identity. His intelligence and curiosity set him apart from others, but they also isolated him, creating a sense of loneliness. This isolation was only deepened by his complex relationship with his twin brother, Stanley. Ford’s need to prove himself became a driving force in his life. Yet, it was never simply about proving his worth; it was about escaping the deep-seated feelings of jealousy, shame, and guilt that had haunted him since childhood.

Ford's brilliance, however, is matched by his flaws. His obsession with knowledge and understanding the unknown led him down dangerous paths, often pushing away those who cared for him. The rift with his brother, born out of both love and rivalry, is a central part of his character. Which is why (if you've read some of my work on ao3) I put the fact Ford thinks about Stan often.

Despite his vast intellect, Ford’s emotional intelligence often lags behind, making him susceptible to manipulation and leading him to make decisions that are sometimes cold and calculating. He is a man who is willing to risk everything—even his own humanity—for the sake of discovery and the pursuit of what he believes is right and what could do good for the world. This single-minded determination, while admirable, also reveals his vulnerability. His self-imposed isolation and his relentless drive to prove his worth have left him with a fragile sense of self that is easily shattered when confronted with his own limitations. Speaking of his limitations, that's where Bill comes in. To make Ford go beyond the limits of his human capabilities.

Bill Cipher

He's a being of pure chaos and malevolence, contrasts Ford's character in almost every conceivable way. Where Ford is driven by a desire for knowledge and understanding, Bill is driven by a desire for power and control. Bill’s complexity lies in his unpredictability and his capacity for manipulation. He is a master of deception, able to twist the desires and fears of others to suit his own ends. Unlike Ford, who is bound by his human emotions and flaws, Bill is unrestrained, reveling in the chaos he creates. He lacks empathy, seeing others only as tools to be used or obstacles to be destroyed. His lack of morality and his enjoyment of others' suffering make him a truly terrifying entity to come across.

BUT. They have similarities, too. Stay with me.

1. Intellectual Curiosity and Ambition

Both Ford and Bill possess an insatiable curiosity and a relentless drive to uncover the secrets of the universe. For Ford, this curiosity is rooted in a genuine desire to understand the unknown, to push the boundaries of human knowledge, and to make his mark on the world. His intellect is one of his defining traits, and it’s what led him to explore other dimensions and study the mysteries of Gravity Falls.

Similarly, Bill is driven by a desire to know and control everything. His curiosity, however, is twisted by his malevolent nature; it’s less about understanding and more about exploiting knowledge for his own gain. Bill’s intellectual prowess is evident in how he manipulates others, devises complex plans (or impulsive plans), and navigates the multiverse with ease. His fascination with the workings of the universe mirrors Ford’s own, but where Ford seeks to understand, Bill seeks to dominate and corrupt.

2. Rejection of Limitations

Both characters reject the limitations imposed on them by their respective worlds. Ford’s entire life has been a struggle against the boundaries set by society, by his family, and even by his own humanity. His six-fingered hands marked him as different from a young age, and this difference fueled his determination to transcend the ordinary. Ford’s rejection of these limitations led him to create the portal, opening a gateway to other dimensions, and ultimately, to his fateful encounter with Bill.

Bill, too, rejects any form of limitation. As a being from the Nightmare Realm, Bill refuses to be confined by the rules of any single dimension. His very nature is one of rebellion against order and constraint. He sees limitations as challenges to be overcome, often through manipulation and force. This shared disdain for boundaries creates a unique parallel between the two: Ford, the man who defied his world to expand his knowledge, and Bill, the demon who seeks to break the rules of reality itself.

3. A Sense of Superiority

Ford and Bill both harbor a sense of superiority, though it manifests differently in each. Ford’s superiority is intellectual; he knows he is smarter than most people around him, and this often leads him to act alone, believing that only he can solve the problems he encounters. This mindset can make him seem arrogant or dismissive, particularly when dealing with those who don’t share his level of understanding.

Bill’s sense of superiority, on the other hand, is rooted in his power and knowledge. He views himself as above all others, not just because of his intelligence, but because of his status as an interdimensional being. Bill sees humans as insignificant creatures to be toyed with, and he revels in the chaos he can create among them. His superiority complex is part of what makes him so dangerous; he genuinely believes that no one can match him, which drives his desire to control and manipulate.

4. Isolation and Loneliness

Both Ford and Bill are, in their own ways, deeply isolated figures. Ford’s intellectual pursuits and his strained relationship with his brother have left him lonely, often feeling like he is the only one who can understand or solve the mysteries he uncovers. This isolation is both self-imposed and a consequence of his choices; Ford often distances himself from others to protect them or to keep them from slowing him down.

Bill, despite his power, is also a fundamentally lonely being. His existence as a demon is one of isolation; he is a creature of chaos in a universe that generally strives for order. His interactions with others are almost entirely manipulative, and he lacks genuine connections. This loneliness could be a driving force behind his desire to dominate and destroy—if he cannot be understood or accepted, then he will make the world bend to his will instead.

5. Obsession with Control

Control is another trait that both Ford and Bill share, though their methods and motivations differ. Ford’s obsession with control stems from his fear of the unknown and his need to protect those he cares about. After his experiences with Bill, this need becomes even more pronounced, as Ford understands the dangers that lurk beyond the veil of reality. His attempts to control situations, however, often lead to unintended consequences, and his desire to keep everything under control can sometimes cause more harm than good.

Bill’s obsession with control is far more malevolent. He doesn’t just want control—he wants total domination. Bill thrives on bending others to his will, on twisting reality to suit his desires. His manipulation of Ford is a key example of this; by gaining control over Ford, Bill was able to bring chaos to the world in ways that would have been impossible otherwise. For Bill, control is both a means to an end and the ultimate goal itself.

Conclusion: A Complex Relationship

The similarities between Ford and Bill make their relationship all the more complex and tragic. Ford’s intellectual curiosity, his desire to break free from limitations, his sense of superiority, and his isolation all made him an ideal target for Bill’s manipulation. At the same time, these shared traits create a twisted mirror image between the two—Bill literally represents the dark potential of Ford’s own qualities, turned towards destruction rather than discovery. That is if you look at it that way.

Together, they form a complicated pair: Ford, the man who seeks to protect and understand, and Bill, the demon who seeks to control and destroy. Their similarities make them more than just adversaries; they are reflections of each other’s strengths and flaws, locked in a struggle that is as much about their own identities as it is about the fate of the world. This dynamic is what makes their interactions so compelling and their conflict so deeply resonant, as each tries to outmaneuver the other while grappling with the very qualities that make them who they are.

I want to lick these senior citizens— WHAT WHO SAID TJAT

[sashaisready]

The ‘You’ Problem - One Shot

Beefy!Bucky x Female!SHIELD!Reader

*bangs clipboard* ONE BED! ONE BED! ONE BED!

Guys…I threw this together today on a whim. Apologies in advance for the utterly self indulgent fluff with a bit of smut thrown in for good measure. You’ve got all my fave tropes here - one bed, forced proximity, misunderstandings and bad communication, grumpy and sunshine..

In my mind this is Beefy!Bucky (CW era Bucky) but you are of course invited to envisage your favourite Bucky. There is a slightly silly plot point about him being thicc (lmao). Reader is female, not physically described.

I hope you enjoy!! ❤️

warnings: bit’o’smut

Wordcount: around 4.4k (lol)

🛏️

You could see his face fall as he opened the door. Your eyes followed his past the safe house entrance and inside through to the open plan cabin. 

All on one floor. A small kitchenette, basic but seemingly clean at least. A cheap, plastic dining table with a few dingy chairs tucked into the far corner. A crumpled leather sofa that had seen better days. A battered old door at the rear that you assumed lead to the bathroom (you hoped, anyway). A large fireplace with a basket of logs next to it - merciful after a long trek out in the cold air. And- Oh. 

Oh. 

A double bed in the middle of the space. 

A bed. As in…singular. One. 

It didn’t take a Mathematician to work out the equation of two people plus one bed and what that equalled.

Especially when one of those people seemed particularly prickly towards the other, for reasons the other didn’t fully understand.

Tonight would be the most awkward night’s sleep of your life. 

“Great…” growled Bucky sarcastically as he reluctantly crossed the threshold, dropping the duffle bags of equipment by the fireplace.

“Hmm, homely” you chirped, hoping a joke might ease the tension. Of course he didn’t respond. 

You dropped your gaze as he began stripping his tactical gear off, piling it onto the arm of the couch. He tugged off his boots and wordlessly headed to the bathroom, the door slamming behind him.

You sighed heavily. He must’ve said ten words to you in total on this mission. The mission itself had gone well, at least. You had got the intel you needed and neither of you had been compromised in the process. You had got in and out. As a SHIELD agent you didn’t normally work with the Avengers directly in the field, but Stark and Steve had put you on this one with Bucky because of his stealth skills and your knowledge of tech and a particular comms device that was difficult to master - even for the best heroes in the biz. 

You knew them all. Well. Ish. You saw them around the tower. Helped them with surveillance and intel. Most of them were sweet and chatty, nothing like the mythical, two-dimensional hero figures the media portrayed them to be. Sure, they were brilliant at what they did but they were also warm. Flawed. Human. Steve was a sweetie, Tony was an egomaniac but he could hold a conversation at least. Nat was a great ally to have but an even better friend. Sam made you laugh like nobody else. They were your friends. 

Well. Almost all of them. 

Bucky had never really…well…warmed to you. You remember the first day Steve had introduced you both, you had eagerly outstretched your hand to shake his and you watched as his nervous eyes flitted between your hand and Steve. He finally took it reluctantly, muttering a hello as he quickly dropped your hold and stormed off. 

And that was that. You had tried to get to know him but he simply wasn’t interested. He’d only speak to you if he absolutely had to for work, grunted if you asked him something and seemed to do everything in his power to keep a wide berth between the two of you. At first you assumed it was because of what he’d been through, brainwashed assassins carrying the weight of their trauma are hardly known for their perky attitude and charismatic social skills. Maybe he just had a problem with people... 

But you soon noticed he wasn’t really like that with anyone else. Sure, he was prickly and a bit sarcastic, but he engaged. He talked. He laughed. God, you loved his laugh. Sweet. Unencumbered. Slightly dorky. It made you smile on the rare occasions you were lucky enough to hear it. 

He would squabble with Sam. Bond with Steve. Train with Nat. You thought maybe it was because you were just an agent, but he was better with the others. Always reserved, sure, but he’d chat to your SHIELD colleagues. He’d ask them for help with the tech. You were pretty sure he flirted with Emily, another agent on your team, and you couldn’t ignore the quiet thrum of jealousy in your stomach when you heard them chatting animatedly about pizza toppings or that time you caught her sliding her hand over his vibranium arm..

…no. He didn’t seem to have a people problem. Just a ‘you’ problem. 

You weren’t sure what you’d done to upset him, and you were too embarrassed to ask Steve in case you looked whiny and desperate. It wasn’t really a good look for a SHIELD agent to pathetically ask an Avenger why his friend didn’t like her. This wasn’t high school. 

You had a reputation for being a bit sunshine-y. You were always quite cheery at work, doing your best to put a brave face on and inject optimism where you could. It was just how you’d always been. It kept you going. Service with a smile. The world was a dark place, and you figured a little extra light was no bad thing. Maybe Bucky took offence to it, writing you off as a perky airhead. Maybe he’d seen too much death and destruction to see the world the way you did, and you simply annoyed him because of it. 

Only the man himself knew the real reason. You’d accepted you may never be sure. So you did your best to work with him, pretending not to notice his snarky comments and unimpressed looks. Smiling through your pain like always. Generally it was easy, you didn’t spend much time with him anyway.

…Until you were stuck on a mission with him. Waiting for the quinjet in the middle of nowhere, stuck in a tiny cabin in the dead of winter, with one bed and only the man who hated you for company. 

The man you also had a teensy bit of a crush on, too. Yes, it wasn’t ideal to crush on the one person who seemed to loathe you, but clearly you were a dumbass. 

You were rudely pulled from your thoughts by a loud spluttering and spitting noise. It took you a second to realise it must be the cabin’s creaky pipes warming up, so Bucky was showering. You did your best not to think about him all naked and soaped up and wet and-

You flung your laptop open and got to work uploading the files from the mission, sending your report over to head office and sending a quick summary to Stark. At least there was signal out here. Working is good. Only productive thoughts. No room for shower thoughts. 

You were so engrossed in your emails that you didn’t hear the bathroom door swing open behind you. 

“Bathroom’s free” said a gruff voice that made you jump in surprise.

You whipped around to face him and did your best to keep your eyes from falling out of your head when you were faced with Bucky fresh from the shower. Small water droplets ran down his chiselled chest, his long hair damp and falling in soft tendrils, a perfectly prominent ‘V’ pointing down to you-know-where, all topped off with the tiniest towel known to man clinging to his hips. The hardest working piece of fabric you’d ever seen.

You felt your face flush and nodded overly enthusiastically. 

“G-great, thanks” you mumbled.

He seemed to oblivious to your discomfort so you took that moment to dash to the bathroom yourself, leaning against the door after you’d closed it and doing your best to keep it together. You just needed to get through the night. The quinjet was coming to get you in the morning. You could do this. You could survive tiny towels and fresh soaped abs until then. 

You took your sweet time showering, ignoring the mildewy tiles and inconsistent water temperature to spend as much time hidden in the bathroom as possible. You finally admitted defeat and emerged, drying yourself with one of the threadbare towels and changing into some sweats.

“Was about to contact HQ and tell them you’d drowned in the bathroom” Bucky deadpanned as you re-entered the main cabin. He didn’t look up, his eyes locked on his phone as he laid on the bed. Bucky in bed. He was dressed in dark sweats, the fresh smell emanating from him almost intoxicating.

“I just…like to be clean after a mission” you replied, your voice slightly wobbly. 

He nodded, his eyes flickering up to yours. “Yeah, I get that” he mumbled.

This was probably the most you’d spoken to each other all afternoon. You suppressed your surprise.

“You tired?” He asked, his tone almost interrogating. He seemed wide awake. You supposed super soldiers didn’t really need as much sleep as mere mortals did. 

“Mm. A little” you responded, trying to appear nonchalant and not show how desperate you were to curl up and pass out. Not that you thought you could in such close proximity to him.

In an attempt to appear relaxed you stretched your arms and inadvertently knocked a little wooden pinecone ornament off the small side table next to you. It flew almost comically across the room, bouncing on the floor and smashing against the kitchen cabinet (thankfully remaining intact).

The silence was heavy. Bucky raised an eyebrow as you quickly scuttled and retrieved it, hastily putting it back in place. You could’ve sworn his face betrayed a sliver of amusement but it quickly moulded back to his standard-issue stoicism.

“They confirmed that the jet will be here at 0730 tomorrow” he murmured, looking back at his phone. 

The fact he hadn’t acknowledged your faux pas made it even more embarrassing. You nodded quickly and tried to ignore the sudden heat in your cheeks. 

Fortunately the evening progressed with no other embarrassments. You both had a dinner of instant noodles in silence, then spent some time separately tying up the loose ends on your respective mission duties - sending emails, debriefing Steve on the phone. You don’t think Bucky smiled even once.

Your heart thumped in your chest as it got later and darker, until you could no longer avoid the elephant in the room.

However it was Bucky who raised it, nipping it in the bud with his trademark pragmatism.

“I’ll take the couch” he said sternly. “You can have the bed”.

“Oh…thanks. But it’s okay, if you want the bed-” you started to protest but he cut you off. 

“It’s fine” he barked. 

You couldn’t deny that avoiding the awkwardness of having to share a bed was a relief, although a small part of you felt a tiny bit disappointed. 

“There’s only one blanket…” you said warily as your eyes scanned the cabin for something you may have missed…a blanket basket..a linen closet, anything…

“Don’t need one” he quickly dismissed as he laid down on his back atop the couch, wriggling his body against the cushions to get comfortable. He closed his eyes and clasped his hands over his chest. You couldn’t resist stealing a peek. He looked so angelic with his eyes closed. So much softer and sweeter than he normally did. You swallowed a gasp and quickly turned away before he caught you.

You took that as your cue to climb into the bed, shivering slightly as you pulled the shabby blanket tightly against you. The fire Bucky had lit in the fireplace earlier had finally burnt out, and you were suddenly very aware of how cold it was between these four wooden walls.

“Night” you said gently as you switched off the beside lamp, plunging the cabin into darkness.

Bucky merely grunted and you heard him roll over onto his side, the couch creaking painfully under his weight. Well, he was a big guy. 

You squeezed your eyes shut and did your best to fall asleep quickly, not wanting to think too hard about how the most handsome man you’d ever met was sleeping mere feet away from you. A braver version of you would be honest about how you really felt, using this close proximity to ask him directly what his issue with you was. An even braver version would use this opportunity to move over to the sofa and stroke his hair from his eyes and lean over and-

But you were a coward. 

You would likely never be alone with him like this ever again, and here you were wimping out and cowering in bed. Typical. 

You realised you could still hear the couch creaking. It seemed to be getting louder. That was odd. Bucky wasn’t even moving. What even was that? It sounded like…something cracking?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud snapping sound, then a huge crash and then eventually Bucky yelling. You’re suddenly frantic, in panic mode as you immediately assumed the safe house has been compromised and the two of you had somehow been tracked. You fling yourself out of bed, grabbing the pistol you stashed by the nightstand and practically smashing the lamp switch, ready to take down whoever has broken in.

As the cabin is illuminated you’re stunned by sight in front of you. 

Bucky is laying on the floor, his face like thunder as he scowls and curses. The couch is…somehow…cut perfectly in two, sliced down the middle.

“What the…?” You stammer as you lower your gun and take in the scene. 

Bucky suddenly sits up and leans over, assessing the wreckage. 

“It’s goddam termites!!” He spits.

“Huh??” You utter, struggling to make sense of what’s going on.

“Termites!!” He yells again, angrily gesturing at where the couch has split. 

You lean in and can now see the jagged edges of the exposed wooden frame, huge holes dotted along the structure. Yep, he was right - termites. 

“They’ve clearly been eating away at this old-ass couch for some time, it must’ve finally given up” he says furiously. His vibranium fingers squeeze into a fist and he angrily punches through some of the remaining chewed-up frame.

You did your best. Truly you did. But nothing could stop the wave of laughter that bubbled out of you in that moment. The image of Bucky in a heap on the floor…the deafening crash…the ridiculous debris of the couch…the fear of intruders…it was simply all too much. You threw your head back and laughed. Your laughter was a runaway train, impossible to stop. It wasn’t just the absurdity of the tableau in front of you…it was all of the tension and awkwardness that had been brewing between you and Bucky. All of your stress. The laugh was a cathartic release of all of it. 

Bucky scowled as he got to his feet. “It’s not that funny…” he muttered.

“I’m sorry..I’m sorry…” you managed to yelp as you caught your breath. “I thought…I thought we were under attack, I drew…drew my gun and everything. But it was just…just…” you inhaled sharply. “It was just…your big super soldier ass smashing up the couch”.

Bucky’s eyes widened at that. You watched the anger darken his features before the corner of his mouth rolled up into a smirk. The smirk became a smile. The smile became a grin. The grin became a laugh. He was laughing!! Bucky was actually laughing!! 

“Who you callin’ big ass?” He sneered, although the playfulness was clear as day. 

That only made you laugh harder. 

You both stood there and laughed until your eyes watered and your sides hurt, eventually running out of steam. Bucky sighed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head with disdain.

“You think they could spring for a Holiday Inn or something” he scoffed. “I know it’s slim pickings out in the middle of nowhere, but surely they could find something better than this shitbox”.

You chuckled. “Tony cheaping out I guess. But it’s kinda cosy at least…”

Bucky scoffed again. “Why do you always do that?” He said accusingly.

You frowned. “Do what?”

“Try to…put a positive spin on everything. Sometimes things just suck and that’s okay”.

You blanched, surprised. He’d never asked you anything like that before. “Well…uh…it’s just who I am I guess. Keeps me going”.

He studied you carefully. “Well…okay. But as long as you know it’s okay to just let something be shitty. You don’t always have to put on a brave face”.

Your eyes widened, surprised at the tenderness in his tone. “I’m not…putting it on. It’s just…me”.

He nodded. You realised this was your one chance. You had to take it.

“Is that why…you’re always so cold to me? You think I’m some phoney pretending the world is all sunshine and rainbows” you asked hesitantly. 

He blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting that. 

“Huh?”

“C’mon, don’t insult my intelligence, Bucky. We both know you’re not exactly my best friend” you prodded. 

He sighed. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been kinda a jerk. I guess I’m not really used to people like you…and I don’t know how to be”.

“People like me…?”

He smirked. “Optimists”.

“Oh…”

“It’s nothing personal” he continued. “I guess with my background…I just…don’t really come across too many peppy people in our line of work. I find it hard to get my head around. But it’s my problem…not yours”.

You nodded, taken aback by his candour. “Alright…I get that. But…I haven’t ever done anything to you. And I’d like it if we could maybe say more than five words to each other over an eight hour mission…”

He grimaced. “Yeah. Look…I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair to take my issues out on you. Can we start over? Try again?” 

His voice was hopeful. He sounded genuine. You couldn’t help but feel the excitement of this new progress swirl in your tummy. 

You smiled. “Yeah. That would be good. Thanks”.

He nodded, smiling back at you. “Okay. Let’s talk more about it tomorrow…But for now we probably should get some sleep. It’s late”.

He sighed wearily and sat back on the floor, stretching out and laying on his back.

You watched this, baffled. “What…are you doing?”

He looked up at you in annoyance. “What does it look like?” He said sarcastically.

“It…looks like you’re sleeping on the hard floor with no blankets or pillows”.

“Well I can’t sleep on the broken couch can I…”

“Just get into the bed” you sighed

He sat up, eyeing you with suspicion. “What?”

“The bed. We can share. We’re both adults aren’t we? Serum or not, you’re not getting any sleep on that wooden floor. Plus, it’s freezing in here”.

He tilted his head. “And you’re sure you’re okay with that? Because I can sleep here just fine…I’ve had worse”

You shrugged, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. You walked back over to the bed and pulled the covers back as you hopped back in. 

“Sure. Just try not to break this too, okay big ass?” You replied playfully. “Tony will end up sending us a bill if you keep wrecking the joint.”

He rolled his eyes as he relented, strolling over and flopping onto the other side of the bed. “Whatever. But if you snore I will wake you up”.

You grinned, delighted at the shift in atmosphere. Maybe Bucky would never like you the way you liked him, but if you had a chance at being his friend you would take that. You would grasp it with both hands and never let go.

Once you both settled down and you switched off the lamp for the second time that night, your head hit the pillow and you did your best to fall asleep. You tried to ignore the sheer heat radiating from the heavy body next to you. You didn’t really get up close and personal with Bucky so had no idea he ran this hot. Serum thing, you guessed. The mattress sagged under the weight of his bulk and you were painfully aware of how close you were to him, his back to you. You could’ve barely reached out and easily brushed his fingers. His thick shoulders were right there. His strong thighs were just by you. His beautiful blue eyes were resting beneath his eyelids. You felt your mouth go dry and squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to fall asleep and rescue your mind from this psychic torment.

Unfortunately the cabin’s poor insulation quickly made itself known and soon all you could think about was how cold you were. How did this place only have one blanket?? You couldn’t even wrap yourself up in it properly because Bucky had half. You fantasised about endless duvets and comforters, fluffy pillows and hot water bottles. Electric blankets and knitted quilts.

You were debating getting up and going to try find another layer of clothing in your pack when Bucky’s grumpy voice interrupted. 

“Can you keep still? Jeez”.

You realised then that you were shivering. The trembling of your limbs was causing you to shake, gently rocking the bed.

“I’m sorry…it’s cold okay?” You hissed in the dark.

“Oh c‘mon…” he sneered.

“We aren’t all super soldiers!!” You spat, clenching your teeth together to stop them chattering. “I’m not a human bonfire like you”. 

“Ugh. So dramatic. Come’ere” he groaned.

Before you could fully compute he rolled over and pulled you into his arms, nestling you in his grasp. 

You had become the little spoon. 

“Uh…” you eked out in surprise.

“Shut up and go to sleep” he scolded lightly. “You can’t still be cold now…”

You shook your head, your brain short circuiting. It was as if every possible thought had left you all at once. You felt the dual sensation of metal and flesh hug your torso, the warmth of his breath by your ear. And oh god the heat. The heat.

You laid perfectly still as if any sudden movements would startle him and shake him out of this. You heard his breathing deepen suddenly and at first you thought he was falling asleep…but then you felt it.

It indeed.

There was something hard pressing into your bottom. 

You felt your face flush. Your mouth fell agape. He knew exactly what he was doing. This wasn’t an accident. A flash of boldness hit you like a lightning bolt, his audaciousness igniting something within you. You couldn’t process what this meant right now, you just had to ride the wave, so to speak. He rocked into you a little harder. You had to make it clear that you knew what this was. So you experimentally pushed your hips back against his. You were cautious, a slow manoeuvre at first to test the water. He grunted, then slowly moved himself forward once more, pressing himself harder against you. You pushed back again, uttering a small moan which he reciprocated with his own. You did this for a little while, pressing against each other and finding a rhythm. The only sounds were your clothes swishing against the sheets and a quiet chorus of whimpers and groans. No words were spoken. 

He carefully snaked his vibranium arm around you and you shuddered as he raised your shirt, walking his fingers down across your bare stomach to your hips, daringly pulling back the waistband of your sweats. He took his time, his breath dense against your ear as you closed your eyes and felt the cool metal trace your scorching skin beneath.

His digits toyed with the side of your underwear with painful slowness, his breathing quickening as he continued to rock his bulge into your backside. You could only whine as his fingers finally breached the fabric and made their way inside. He groaned heavily into your neck as he found the readiness of your essence, viscous and dripping from his fingers as he traced further and further in. You whimpered as he finally put you out of your misery and found your clit, expertly toying with it but applying enough pressure to build and build and build…

You rocked eagerly against his hand as he slipped one metal finger inside of you. Then two. All in rhythm with the thrust of your hips in time with his. His circling increased suddenly, his fingers continued to pump and you gasped as you reached your peak, finally reaching the top and plummeting off the edge, your voice hoarse and laboured as you cried out into the dark cabin, the stars of your climax both dizzying and intoxicating.

He held you close as you fell back down to earth, still not a word spoken by either of you. Nothing had needed to be said. He gently removed his hand from your panties and cupped your chin, wrenching your face to his and gifting you the sweetest, softest kiss you’d ever experienced. His lips brushing yours with tenderness and care. A stark contrast to the salacious way he’d touched you. 

“I haven’t been entirely honest…” he spoke into the dark, his voice hoarse and strained with lust.

You stroked his cheek fondly. “Mm?”

“It wasn’t just your…optimism” he told you as he kissed you again. “I…I couldn’t handle the way I felt about you. I always liked you…always wanted you. From that very first moment Steve introduced us. I was a goner. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I didn’t know how to talk to you. So I purposefully put space between us. It was immature, I know” he sighed. 

You smiled into the dark, your head reeling from all the ways the world had changed in the last hour. Your heart exploding after finally hearing the words you’d longed for. The words you’d never expected to actually hear.

“You’re so soft…and sweet. I like the way you try and see the good in everything. It makes me wanna be less of a grumpy asshole. And you make me laugh. The way you sent that pinecone flying earlier…” he chuckled. “You’re utterly ridiculous. You know that?”

You grinned. “You didn’t laugh!! It made it so much worse that you didn’t laugh…”

He sniggered. “I’m sorry. Look. I wanted to. I just didn’t want you to think I was making fun of you”.

You giggled, touched by the strange but well meaning logic. 

“Will you give me a chance to make it up to you?” He asked softly, his hand lazily running up your thigh. 

“Bucky…”

“Yeah, doll?”

“The quinjet will be here in a few hours. So you better get started on that apology…”

You felt his smile in the dark as his lips touched yours again, one arm pulling you into him as the other began to tug down your sweats. 

“You’re on doll, you’re on”.

[intermundia]

I'm a different anon, but your answer to that person, about how we all have our own perspectives and such, got me curious if you wanted to talk about your favorite things about Anakin? I really like how he has this earnest passion in everything he says and does, no matter what the consequences are. He lets his instincts and heart influence what actions he takes. I think you could say the same about Obi-Wan too to a degree, but I think Obi-Wan errs to keeping his emotions/intentions concealed until he has the best advantage he can get. And I think that this sort of "two sides of the same coin" contrast between them is part of what makes the ship appealing. Anyway, yeah, I wanted to know what you enjoy about Anakin ^^ And that other anon too, if they want to send another ask about their feelings/thoughts

Oh man, what a question. You've activated my trap card. Anakin Skywalker is possibly my favorite character of all time. It's endlessly fascinating to read stories about him, and writing him allows me to articulate the messy, painful, thwarted parts of myself. He's half my brain, and Obi-Wan is the other half, and resolving their differences brings me deep catharsis.

Everything you said about him is so true, his earnest passion is so deeply appealing. Obi-Wan called him passionate, fearless, forthright, and he is the embodiment of those traits, but he's flawed too, and flawed in ways I feel in my bones, and regrets the same things that I regret. He's so beautiful and so damned, a fallen and risen angel, you know?

Stover wrote that the brightest light casts the darkest shadow. He ends up at just the nadir of cruelty and violence, but he begins from a place of pure generosity and light. His intentions were so good, and he was so impossibly brave. It seems like arrogance, that cocky assurance of what he was capable of, but the universe bends around him to fit his will.

He's more than human, he's half-divine, a mirror and barometer of the entire galaxy's mood. His life is coextensive with the rise and fall of an empire, his personal tragedy from greed is both archetypal and relatable, and he is the scaffolding the narrative rests inside. Luke is the hero of the story but Anakin is the embodiment of the world he strives against.

He is painfully earnest and a liar, a villain and a victim, naive and jaded, brilliant but foolish, perfect and deeply flawed. It's so easy for me to understand why he was so beloved. He's absolutely the other side of Obi-Wan's coin, the heart to Obi-Wan's head, the passion to his reason, the instinct to his experience. The Team together is one complete and fully realized being, separation means incompleteness and disaster.

Vader is just one of the most iconic villains of all time, and Lucas defied all expectations in the prequels. He used his character to tell a cautionary tale about greed rather than give excuses for why he became such a monster. He is intentionally shown to be so generous and kind as a boy, handsome and daring as a man, with infinite wasted potential for good, it's incredible.

Idk man, I like him and I love him, I hate him and I want him; he's one of the best characters of the modern age.

[scorpiusmalfoylovesoscarwilde]

I've said it before, I'll say it again, and I'm sure it won't be the last time. I AM SICK AND BLOODY TIRED OF THESE MFS, HALF OF WHO DONT EVEN CARE ABOUT CURSED CHILD, BITCHING AND MOANING ABOUT AN ANGSTY TEEN DARING TO BE AN ANGSTY TEEN, I WILL FIGHT THE LOT OF YOU

(this is gonna be a bit long and probably incoherent so sit down and fucking listen to me 🔫 stick with me because I'm not just complaining about albus haters)

eVERYBODY wants cOoMmpllEeXx relatable HUMAN characters - and then SHIT themselves when the flaws a CHILD has isn't just 🥺 uwu im socially awkward and traumatised 🥺. that's why scorpius doesn't get this fuckass treatment, because his terrible human flaw is that he's a bit shit at conversation and gets sad about his dead mum (generalised understatement, but this post isnt about him. dont come for me i love him 🫶🏻)

god forbid albus, who feels unloved and unwanted (with valid evidence for a teenager), albus who feels completely out of place and outcast from his entire famously-close-knit family, ablus who is well known by the world by default via Harry and hates the attention and high expectations, albus who then gets targeted and bullied by his peers because he's not as perfect and brilliant as his father, albus who is then isolated from his one friend because Harry is making irrational ptsd fueled decisions, albus who tells Harry completely sincerely that he knows he's unlikeable but he'll try and change himself and be more like his siblings because he genuinely believes that's what Harry and everyone else whos had the misfortune of meeting him wants, albus who spends the entire play trying to prove himself and fix things via idiotic childish decisions BECAUSE HES A WHOLE UNSTABLE CHILD

god forbid that CHILD doesn't react like a patient, supported, well adjusted, level headed adult. god forbid he reacts outwardly. god forbid he reacts at all, my bad. clearly he should just sniffle a bit as if he doesn't feel suffocated and helpless by everything in his life, because obviously hes just a spoiled brat who doesn't know what real suffering is. god forbid he complains or feels anything negatively, or doesn't quite grasp that other people are struggling too because he is too busy trying so hard to deal with himself and his declining mental health the best he can with basically no support or understanding. god forbid he isn't completely perfect.

you all sound like some fucking boomer telling teenagers they don't know what real struggling is, they aren't mentally ill, they dont have any problems because they have a roof over their head, they should all go to war kids are too soft these days 😫😖😱 fUCKING‼️SHUT UP‼️

he does things wrong but he knows he does and he does everything he can to fix it! and he is fourteen!!! do none of you remember what being fourteen is like 😭😭 I swear half of you have got to be basically fourteen yourselves cmon man

cause I'm seeing this fucking pattern a lot recently. not just for albus, not just in this fandom, everywhere. ‼️ no one can fucking handle flawed characters anymore ‼️ the only thing any character is allowed to have wrong with them is trauma apparently, otherwise they have to be perfect, and I'm getting sick of it. characters and stories are meant to reflect real life, they're meant to help shape our world view, why are you expecting everyone to be fucking perfect??? what happened to nuance? what happened to understanding character development? you are all acting like characters and people are so black and white. either they're perfect or they're insufferable and evil. I won't lie, the most common victims i've noticed of this are women. but the flawed women are typically demonised, whereas the men are typically turned into uwu baby boys who actually aren't capable of doing anything wrong and then fanon goes nuts making them into ittle wittle victims. and I'm so fucking sick of all of it, I hate this. (obviously this is not a strict rule. Albus Potter, and also Albus Dumbledore now I mention it, are demonised beyond belief)

BRING BACK FLAWS AND BRING BACK NOT COMPLETELY WRITING OFF A CHARACTER BECAUSE THEY DARE TO BE HUMAN

I AM FED UP, ALBUS POTTER GET BEHIND ME

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Richard R John’s “Network Nation”

THIS SATURDAY (July 20), I'm appearing in CHICAGO at Exile in Bookville.

The telegraph and the telephone have a special place in the history and future of competition and Big Tech. After all, they were the original tech monopolists. Every discussion of tech and monopoly takes place in their shadow.

Back in 2010, Tim Wu published The Master Switch, his bestselling, wildly influential history of "The Bell System" and the struggle to de-monopolize America from its first telecoms barons:

https://memex.craphound.com/2010/11/01/the-master-switch-tim-net-neutrality-wu-explains-whats-at-stake-in-the-battle-for-net-freedom/

Wu is a brilliant writer and theoretician. Best known for coining the term "Net Neutrality," Wu went on to serve in both the Obama and Biden administrations as a tech trustbuster. He accomplished much in those years. Most notably, Wu wrote the 2021 executive order on competition, laying out a 72-point program for using existing powers vested in the administrative agencies to break up corporate power and get the monopolist's boot off Americans' necks:

https://www.eff.org/de/deeplinks/2021/08/party-its-1979-og-antitrust-back-baby

The Competition EO is basically a checklist, and Biden's agency heads have been racing down it, ticking off box after box on or ahead of schedule, making meaningful technical changes in how companies are allowed to operate, each one designed to make material improvements to the lives of Americans.

A decade and a half after its initial publication, Wu's Master Switch is still considered a canonical account of how the phone monopoly was built – and dismantled.

But somewhat lost in the shadow of The Master Switch is another book, written by the accomplished telecoms historian Richard R John: "Network Nation: Inventing American Telecommunications," published a year after The Master Switch:

https://www.hup.harvard.edu/books/9780674088139

Network Nation flew under my radar until earlier this year, when I found myself speaking at an antitrust conference where both John and Wu were also on the bill:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2VNivXjrU3A

During John's panel – "Case Studies: AT&T & IBM" – he took a good-natured dig at Wu's book, claiming that Wu, not being an historian, had been taken in by AT&T's own self-serving lies about its history. Wu – also on the panel – didn't dispute it, either. That was enough to prick my interest. I ordered a copy of Network Nation and put it on my suitcase during my vacation earlier this month.

Network Nation is an extremely important, brilliantly researched, deep history of America's love/hate affair with not just the telephone, but also the telegraph. It is unmistakably as history book, one that aims at a definitive takedown of various neat stories about the history of American telecommunications. As Wu writes in his New Republic review of John's book:

Generally he describes the failure of competition not so much as a failure of a theory, but rather as the more concrete failure of the men running the competitors, many of whom turned out to be incompetent or unlucky. His story is more like a blow-by-blow account of why Germany lost World War II than a grand theory of why democracy is better than fascism.

https://newrepublic.com/article/88640/review-network-nation-richard-john-tim-wu

In other words, John thinks that the monopolies that emerged in the telegraph and then the telephone weren't down to grand forces that made them inevitable, but rather, to the errors made by regulators and the successful gambits of the telecoms barons. At many junctures, things could have gone another way.

So this is a very complicated story, one that uses a series of contrasts to make the point that history is contingent and owes much to a mix of random chance and the actions of flawed human beings, and not merely great economic or historical laws. For example, John contrasts the telegraph with the telephone, posing them against one another as a kind of natural experiment in different business strategies and regulatory responses.

The telegraph's early promoters, including Samuel Morse (as in "Morse code") believed that the natural way to roll out telegraph was via selling the patents to the federal government and having an agency like the post office operate it. There was a widespread view that the post office as a paragon of excellent technical management and a necessity for knitting together the large American nation. Moreover, everyone could see that when the post office partnered with private sector tech companies (like the railroads that became essential to the postal system), the private sector inevitably figured out how to gouge the American public, leading regulators to ever-more extreme measures to rein in the ripoffs.

The telegraph skated close to federalization on several occasions, but kept getting snatched back from the brink, ending up instead as a privately operated system that primarily served deep-pocketed business customers. This meant that telegraph companies were forever jostling to get the right to string wires along railroad tracks and public roads, creating a "political economy" that tried to balance out highway regulators and rail barons (or play them off against each other).

But the leaders of the telegraph companies were largely uninterested in "popularizing" the telegraph – that is, figuring out how ordinary people could use telegraphs in place of the hand-written letters that were the dominant form of long-distance communications at the time. By turning their backs on "popularization," telegraph companies largely freed themselves from municipal oversight, because they didn't need to get permission to string wires into every home in every major city.

When the telephone emerged, its inventors and investors initially conceived of it as a tool for business as well. But while the telegraph had ushered in a boom in instantaneous, long-distance communications (for example, by joining ports and distant cities where financiers bought and sold the ports' cargo), the telephone proved far more popular as a way of linking businesses within a city limits. Brokers and financiers and businesses that were only a few blocks from one another found the telephone to be vastly superior to the system of dispatching young boys to race around urban downtowns with slips bearing messages.

So from the start, the phone was much more bound up in city politics, and that only deepened with popularization, as phones worked their ways into the homes of affluent families and local merchants like druggists, who offered free phone calls to customers as a way of bringing trade through the door. That created a great number of local phone carriers, who had to fend off Bell's federally enforced patents and aldermen and city councilors who solicited bribes and favors.

To make things even more complex, municipal phone companies had to fight with other sectors that wanted to fill the skies over urban streets with their own wires: streetcar lines and electrical lines. The unregulated, breakneck race to install overhead wires led to an epidemic of electrocutions and fires, and also degraded service, with rival wires interfering with phone calls.

City politicians eventually demanded that lines be buried, creating another source of woe for telephone operators, who had to contend with private or quasi-private operators who acquired a monopoly over the "subways" – tunnels where all these wires eventually ended up.

The telegraph system and the telephone system were very different, but both tended to monopoly, often from opposite directions. Regulations that created some competition in telegraphs extinguished competition when applied to telephones. For example, Canada federalized the regulation of telephones, with the perverse effect that everyday telephone users in cities like Toronto had much less chance of influencing telephone service than Chicagoans, whose phone carrier had to keep local politicians happy.

Nominally, the Canadian Members of Parliament who oversaw Toronto's phone network were big leaguers who understood prudent regulation and were insulated from the daily corruption of municipal politics. And Chicago's aldermen were pretty goddamned corrupt. But Bell starved Toronto of phone network upgrades for years, while Chicago's gladhanding political bosses forced Chicago's phone company to build and build, until Chicago had more phone lines than all of France. Canadian MPs might have been more remote from rough-and-tumble politics, but that made them much less responsive to a random Torontonian's bitter complaint about their inability to get a phone installed.

As the Toronto/Chicago story illustrates, the fact that there were so many different approaches to phone service tried in the US and Canada gives John more opportunities to contrast different business-strategies and regulations. Again, we see how there was never one rule that governments could have used if they wanted to ensure that telecoms were well-run, widely accessible, and reasonably priced. Instead, it was always "horses for courses" – different rules to counter different circumstances and gambits from telecoms operators.

As John traces through the decades during which the telegraph and telephone were established in America, he draws heavily on primary sources to trace the ebb and flow of public and elite sentiment towards public ownership, regulation, and trustbusting. In John's hands, we see some of the most spectacular failures as more than a mismatch of regulatory strategy to corporate gambit – but rather as a mismatch of political will and corporate gambit. If a company's power would be best reined in by public ownership, but the political vogue is for regulation, then lawmakers end up trying to make rules for a company they should simply be buying giving to the post office to buy.

This makes John's history into a history of the Gilded Age and trustbusters. Notorious vulture capitalists like Jay Gould shocked the American conscience by declaring that businesses had no allegiance to the public good, and were put on this Earth to make as much money as possible no matter what the consequences. Gould repeated "raided" Western Union, acquiring shares and forcing the company to buy him out at a premium to end his harassment of the board and the company's managers.

By the time the feds were ready to buy out Western Union, Gould was a massive shareholder, meaning that any buyout of the telegraph would make Gould infinitely wealthier, at public expense, in a move that would have been electoral poison for the lawmakers who presided over it. In this highly contingent way, Western Union lived on as a private company.

Americans – including prominent businesspeople who would be considered "conservatives" by today's standards, were deeply divided on the question of monopoly. The big, successful networks of national telegraph lines and urban telephone lines were marvels, and it was easy to see how they benefited from coordinated management. Monopolists and their apologists weaponized this public excitement about telecoms to defend their monopolies, insisting that their achievement owed its existence to the absence of "wasteful competition."

The economics of monopoly were still nascent. Ideas like "network effects" (where the value of a service increases as it adds users) were still controversial, and the bottlenecks posed by telephone switching and human operators meant that the cost of adding new subscribers sometimes went up as the networks grew, in a weird diseconomy of scale.

Patent rights were controversial, especially patents related to natural phenomena like magnetism and electricity, which were viewed as "natural forces" and not "inventions." Business leaders and rabble-rousers alike decried patents as a federal grant of privilege, leading to monopoly and its ills.

Telecoms monopolists – telephone and telegraph alike – had different ways to address this sentiment at different times (for example, the Bell System's much-vaunted commitment to "universal service" was part of a campaign to normalize the idea of federally protected, privately owned monopolies).

Most striking about this book were the parallels to contemporary fights over Big Tech trustbusting, in our new Gilded Age. Many of the apologies offered for Western Union or AT&T's monopoly could have been uttered by the Renfields who carry water for Facebook, Apple and Google. John's book is a powerful and engrossing reminder that variations on these fights have occurred in the not-so-distant past, and that there's much we can learn from them.

Wu isn't wrong to say that John is engaging with a lot of minutae, and that this makes Network Nation a far less breezy read than Master Switch. I get the impression that John is writing first for other historians, and writers of popular history like Wu, in a bid to create the definitive record of all the complexity that is elided when we create tidy narratives of telecoms monopolies, and tech monopolies in general. Bringing Network Nation on my vacation as a beach-read wasn't the best choice – it demands a lot of serious attention. But it amply rewards that attention, too, and makes an indelible mark on the reader.

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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/18/the-bell-system/#were-the-phone-company-we-dont-have-to-care