#had a breakdown over why my existence is seen as politics. why my right to exist as a human is a political debate

[fefairys]

the more i think about it the more angry i am getting over how much potential high guardian spice had for the rest of the story that we will never get to see because of the bigotry that crushed it.

like bro UGHHHH we could have had it all. i don’t even wanna talk about it bc the thing i wanna talk about is like THE spoiler of the entire thing. and i definitely recommend the show, as long as ur ready to be just as angry as i am that it will never be continued LMAO

[rcreveal]

Feathers and Snakeskin

Summary:

Crowley calls Nina urgently for help with movie night. We find out why he's so nervous about this particular movie night. January 2024 prompt a week challenge: 1) Jane Austen, 2) “you're up to something” 3) Crowley's snake, 4) how you said I love you with something you (had) made

Work Text:

“Nina, come watch these movie trailers with me!” Crowley said urgently through the cell connection.

Nina stares at the line of the morning rush with her cell to her ear and a look of disbelief on her face, “You called me with the EXCEPTIONALLY URGENT setting because you want me to watch what with you?”

“Movie trailers.  I desperately need your help with movie night! Nina, please! You're my only hope!” begs Crowley.

Nina looks at the phone and at the crowd, shakes the phone a little, sighs hugely at the ceiling, and relents, “Fine, I'll be right there.”

Addressing the customers, “Oi! Either it's the end of the world or my friend's having a mental breakdown,” in the crescendo of coffee deficient despair she holds up her hands, “Eric's got this.  Be nice or he won't make cookies this week!” This was met with instant polite silence.  The crowd couldn't decide what was worse, being cut off from Nina's coffee or Eric's baking.

On the way out the door, Mrs. Sandwich leans into Nina, “Take care of Crowley, he's been looking off his feed lately.  Won't tell me what's going on.”

Nina hurries over to the bookshop, and enters it only to find Aziraphale sitting quietly doing what looks like calligraphy at his desk while Muriel is reading.

Nina looks from one to the other and asks “Where's Crowley?”

“Not here, Nina.  He went out on an errand this morning.  Are you alright?” inquires Aziraphale.

“Fine.  I'm fine, just needed a word, in person, with Crowley. See you for movie night later?” Nina tries to cover while walking rapidly out the door. 

Once she's out of angelic earshot, she whispers into her mobile, “Why didn't you tell me you weren't at the shop!  Where are you?”

“Little distracted.  I'm at that movie rental place.  I'll share my location with you,” 

Nina's phone chimes. Her map app directs her to a video rental shop. ‘We still have one of those?’ she thinks and starts walking.  “What's with all the cloak and dagger? Are you ok?”

“I'm ok.  Nnnngh, not ok.  Physically safe, but not ok? Is that a thing?  I needed complete secrecy,” says Crowley.

“For movie trailers? You're up to something!” Nina is talking while walking through the neighborhood until she finds a familiar old storefront, ‘Kathy’s Movie Rental Emporium.’

Opening the door is like stepping into her past.  There are floor to ceiling DVDs and VHS tapes, separated into movie categories with handwritten signs in Kathy’s clear hand.  The shop is made of little nooks and crannies packed with movies with little sign posts on some of the shelves with directions to the different genres.

Nina had spent so much time in this shop when she was a teen.  She’d been searching for a community she couldn’t name and didn’t even know if it existed or not.  In Kathy’s shelves, she found windows onto other worlds, worlds where there were people like her who loved like she did and got to have the life they dreamed about.  This shop had been a bright spot in an otherwise difficult series of years.  She hadn’t seen the store front in ages.

“Nina, is that you, dear?” Kathy, at her usual station behind the till, is more spare now, but still sports the sharply fashionable clothes and architect’s round frames with a bob that's gone silver with age.  “Yeah, Kathy, yeah, it's so good to see you! I'm sorry, I thought you'd gone out of business when streaming got big.  I walked by a few times…” Nina looks bemused, then rallies, “A friend of mine is here? Crowley, chap about this tall, wears mostly black?”

Kathy comes out from behind the counter and beckons Nina to follow her behind the stacks, down a narrow corridor lined with classic movie posters. “It’s so good you came over! He's in the private theater. Needs a little help.” Kathy knocks gently on a door under red velvet curtains and gold braid.

“Cooee! Crowley? Nina's come down,” Kathy calls and opens the door.

The little private theater is big enough for about twenty people and a screen, with a little stage that Nina recalled had also hosted some fledgling cinematographers and their works.  Now, it contains one agitated Crowley and drifts of huge black feathers.  Nina looks from Crowley to Kathy and whispers “If I'm not out in an hour, come knock?” 

Kathy's face creases into a warm smile, “Just so, dear.”

Nina turns back to Crowley saying, “What’s going on?  Where’d all these feathers come from?” 

Crowley continues pacing, saying, “I’m molting.”

Nina looks at him askance, “You molt?”

Dipping his head side to side, Crowley says, “I molt when I’m nervous.”

“You didn’t molt during the Second Coming,” Nina points out.

Rubbing his neck like it itches, he says, “I wasn’t nervous during the Second Coming.  I was many things, but I was not nervous .”

Hands on hips still watching Crowley pace, Nina says, “Ok, you molt when you’re nervous.  Why are you nervous?”

“I want movie night to be perfect this week!  I want to pick the perfect movie! And I can’t see!”  

Nina walks over to him quickly now, “Of course you can’t see in here, you’ve got sunglasses on!”

“I’ve got sunglasses on because of why I can’t see!  I’m shedding, too,”  Crowley takes off his glasses to expose eyes that are covered with a cloudy bluish-white film and rubs his chest while uncomfortably moving his neck. Nina is strongly reminded of her childhood pet corn snake when he was about to shed, all tetchy and restless.

“You shed.  Like a snake?”

“I only shed when I’m really nervous. And I can’t do it in this form, but I can’t see to get home.  And I’ll only keep nervously molting and shedding, until I get this movie picked out! And itchy!” grumbles Crowley.

“Ri-ight. You’re nervous about picking out a movie for our regular weekly movie night that we’ve been doing for almost two years like clockwork. And you can’t watch the trailers now because you can’t see.  O-kay” Nina decides to tackle the more manageable problem first.  “What movies are you choosing between?”

Pacing and scratching, Crowley says, “‘Emma’ the new 2020 version, ‘Ella Enchanted’, uh and ‘The Princess Bride’.”

“I assume that you wouldn’t be this nervous if you weren’t trying to impress Mr. Fell somehow?  And these are all fluffy love stories, with twists and turns before people recognize they love each other, then happy endings.  Mmm, drop ‘Ella Enchanted.’  Everyone loves Anne Hathaway, but I don’t know about the fairy tale thing.”

Crowley interjects, “‘The Princess Bride’ is one of his favorites!  He talks along with all the lines.”

Nina considers, “It’s a reliable good time, but has he seen that production of ‘Emma’?”

“Don’t think so,” Crowley tugs at his collar.

“Have you?” Nina asks curiously.

“Not yet!” Crowley said exasperatedly, “The movie lady, Kathy, suggested it and I was getting ready to screen it back here, when, eyes!” he gestures angrily at his face.

“‘Emma’ then, Kathy’s a magic worker when it comes to picking the most perfect movie for you to see next,” remarks Nina decisively, “I liked that one.  Stellar cast, good music, usual Jane Austen antics, remarkable costumes.  Yeah, Mr Fell would enjoy it.”

But Crowley is directing a dubious look in her general direction, “You watch Jane Austen films?”

Nina pulls a face then grudgingly admits, “I may have discovered a new appreciation for them since Mr Fell made us watch that ‘Pride and Prejudice’ production back when movie night began.  But don’t change the subject, that’s your movie sorted.  Now, do I just fetch the Bentley and take you home or to Mr Fell’s?”

“It, uh, really can’t wait that long,” Crowley sounds a little embarrassed.

“What? You’re going to turn into a snake right here so you can shed?”

“Yessss, that about ssssumsss it up.  Sssssorry.”

They’re both startled by a soft knock on the door.

“Sorry, dears, it took me a little to find it in the back of the storerooms, but I think this will do nicely for you,” Kathy wheels in a large structure of intertwining wooden roots, rough and nobbly.  “Some of my naga clients have had the same thing happen to them now and then.”

“I’m not a naga,” grumps Crowley.

“Well, no, dear.  Tho’ you’re handsome enough to be one and you need to shed your snake skin like one! Take all the time you need.” Kathy remarks brightly as Crowley pulls the structure further into the room, not entirely surprised to have run into another occultly attuned human.

Nina suddenly puts some very random facts together.  “Kathy, do you know my grandmother, by any chance?” asks Nina.

“Of course, dear, Alvita and I go back a long way,” says Kathy.

“What’s your user name in the Book Club server then?” asks Nina.

“Why it’s ‘MovieMama’! And you must be ‘Coffeehuman’, am I right?” Kathy remarks delightedly.

“Pleassssse, ladiessss!  Sssssome privassssssssy?” Crowley begs.

“Sure, sure, let me know when you’re done and I’ll help you tidy the theater,” Nina closes the door behind herself and hangs the ‘In use’ sign, shaking her head.

Pointing her thumb over her shoulder, Nina asks, “How long does this sort of thing usually take?” 

“Oh, about an hour or so, but he’ll be really stunning when he’s done!  The colors are never brighter than right after a shed. Would you like a sandwich while we wait?” Kathy heads up to the front of the shop again.

Nina is gazing around, “I never got a chance to tell you how important this shop, how important you were when I was figuring out about myself.  I came back to the neighborhood looking for your shop, but I couldn’t find it.”

Kathy looks gently at Nina, “Thank you, dear, it was a pleasure.  I got called away for a bit.  But it’s lovely to be spending some time in Soho again.”

“So it wasn’t just me being mental, or you closing shop?  The whole place was gone?”

“Only gone from here. I was open in one of my other locations.  My Book Club user name was originally going to be ‘MultiverseMovieMama’ but it just took too long to type,” Kathy grins at Nina.

“So, I haven’t been able to find that film about the group of friends at the cottage on the coast because it’s not from this world?”

“Yes.  I’ve still got the copy.  Would you like to watch it now?”

“Would I ever!  It’s hilarious!” Nina exclaimed.

Crowley did come out in about two hours looking rather spiffy, if you fancied men.  Nina was just glad to see that he looked human and calmer.  She went into the theater with some large plastic trash bags, “I’ll get the feathers, but the snakeskin is all you.”

“Fair,” said Crowley, unwrapping twenty or so feet of fresh snakeskin from the wooden sculpture and gently putting it into another plastic bag.

While they worked, Nina asks, “What’s making you so nervous that you’re shedding and molting?  I can’t believe you’re driving yourself crazy about just a movie?”

Finding feathers that have gotten into surprising places, Crowley replies, “I need to talk to Aziraphale and I’m hoping the movie will help me, maybe get him in the right mood.”

“Get him in the right mood for what?  You don’t need a rom-com to make him realize he loves you.  You’ve already done that.”  Nina stares hard at him with her head to the side, then the penny drops, “You’re not going to propose to Mr Fell?” She surveys Crowley’s sudden stillness, “You’re going to propose to Mr Fell!!! Why!??”

“See, I knew you’d understand,” he smiles ruefully.

“Understand what?  You don’t need to get married!  You can be 100% committed to each other and faithful, why would you want all that silly ceremony?  Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure Mr Fell would be over the moon!” which sets off a sappy smile on Crowley’s face, “But you can’t want…why?” and Nina suddenly doesn’t look like she’s talking about just Crowly and Aziraphale’s relationship.

Crowley flops down on a theater seat with his bag of feathers in his lap and Nina sits down next to him, hands playing with a long black pinion feather that just escaped.

“The past two years have been amazing, remarkable, more happiness than I would have thought I deserved.  But, everything still feels up in the air, not locked down, somehow.  I want to show Aziraphale that I will make the most binding contract I know of to say I never want to leave.  Even if I get angry or he does, I’ll do the work necessary to stay an ‘us’.” Crowley looks over at Nina hoping she understands, but she’s turned a bit away from him and her voice sounds a little choked when she asks, “You want to show him or you want him to show you?  You’re still worried that he’ll leave again, aren’t you?”

Crowley scrubs his face with his hands, “Nailed it again, Nina,” he says ruefully. 

“But why do you want any relationship advice from me?  The last time Maggie and I gave you relationship advice about talking to Mr Fell…” Nina breaks off.

“Trust me, Nina, the advice was good.  I just carried it out badly,” admits Crowley softly.

Nina turns back to him, and smiles a little tremulously.  “That's what marriage means to you? A commitment to never stop trying to be the best partners you can be? Whether he or you needs supporting or to be called out?”

“Yeah,” says Crowley.

“And you think you can tell him that, too?” asks Nina.

“Yeah,” says Crowley.

Nina nods decisively, “Right then, you’ve got my blessing or whatever.”

Crowley looks surprised, “Your blessing?”

“Or whatever, I assume that's what you were needing?  A marriage skeptic to kick you in the arse?”

Staring at her again, Crowley slowly grins, “Yeah, something like that. Thanks for coming over.  If you'll just help me get these bags of feathers out to the Bentley for safekeeping?  I've got a few more errands to run before tonight.”

Aziraphale looked up when the doorbell tinkled, and the breath caught in his throat.  Crowley stood framed with the light falling on him from the shop windows with his hair iridescently red.  Azriaphale was taken again by the line of his jaw, the lithe energy in his frame.  A single black feather materialized and drifted gently to the floor.

Crowley was likewise arrested by the sight of Aziraphale with the light somehow igniting the dust motes into a literal halo about his head.  Caught by the look of wonder in his eyes, his quiet strength, and in the way he seemed so comfortable in himself.  The ink was still wet on a heavy piece of cardstock covered with the angel’s best copperplate.

“I brought a movie for movie night.” Crowley said, “And Coca-cola’s for the rum and cokes.  Proper glass bottles, “ Crowley held up the bottles as evidence.

Aziraphale stood at his desk, “Everyone’s given their regrets.  Last minute things, couldn’t be avoided.  It’s just you and me tonight,” Aziraphale’s hand reaches down to twirl his ring as he steps forward to take the cardboard crate of glass bottles from Crowley’s hand, the light sparkling in the glass and illuminating the deep sepia beverage within.  Rather than going all the way to the kitchen, or even breaking eye contact with Crowley, he just reaches back to set it on whatever flat surface is available.

“It’s rather fortuitous actually,” Aziraphale continues, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk with you about.”

“Yeah, uh, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk with you about, too,” Crowley stammers and another ebony feather materializes as it drifts towards the floor.

“Oh, well, you first, dear boy, last time we both wanted to talk at the same time…I should have let you say your piece,” Aziraphale's eyes well up with tears at the memory.

“I’ve learned that I can stand to listen better.  Go ahead, Angel,” Crowley says softly.

Aziraphale is spinning his ring now and biting his lip, “We’ve been courting for almost two years now, and it’s glorious, really it is.”  Crowley has leaned back to grasp the shop door behind him for support.

“I just always thought it would be a…a temporary phase,” the angel says haltingly.

“Temporary…?” Crowley croaks.

“Yes, like before we…well, you’ll think I’m silly,” Aziraphale looks away.

“Before we?” Crowley, breathing again, stands up from where he was leaning against the door and catches the angel’s hand in his.

“Before we…got married.  See!  I knew you’d think I’m just an old silly!” and the angel tries to pull away, but Crowley tugs him back, saying softly,

“I think I should have my go now, alright?” smiling gently while reaching into his jacket, Crowley pulls out a small jewelry box. “I love you, a lot.  And I want to be with you, trying to be the best ‘us’ we can be, good times, hard times, both.  And I would like…for you… to marry me.”

“You’re asking me? You’re asking me?!” Aziraphale sounds astonished.

“Angel, if you don’t give me your answer right now, I swear…Don’t you want…?”  doubt is creeping back into the corners of his voice.

“Want to marry you? Of course , I want to marry you!  I’ve wanted to marry you for the past two years!  I thought you didn’t care for all that ceremony, and,”

But Crowley is kissing him, and Aziraphale is heartily kissing him back and they’re both crying, by the time they breathlessly break off from kissing with Aziraphale’s, “Oh!” 

Aziraphale starts patting all over his coat and vest, mumbling, “Drat! Where has it gotten to!” and he finally sighs and slips his hand into the breast pocket of his vest, pulling out a small leather pouch that’s been resting over his heart for more than a year.

“I had this made for you, in case we ever did, get married officially.”  Aziraphale spills a ring into his palm, a black band with gold inlay to form interlocking wings.

Kissing Aziraphale’s temple gently, Crowley says, “I love it, Angel. Here's mine for you,” and Crowley opens the jewelry box that contains a gold ring sporting fine engraving that creates the look of a DaVinci sketch of intertwining dark feathers and light.

“Oh! It’s very like your friend’s drawings!  Well done!” Aziraphale remarks.

Solicitously picking up the few feathers that have fallen to the floor, Aziraphale asks, “Is this why you’ve been molting, dear?  I wondered what was bothering you so.” 

“Yeah, ‘fraid so.  What have you been doing with the feathers?”

“Oh, I just stuff them in the eiderdown with mine, or use them as quills. I've, uh, been mocking up wedding invitations, um, using our feathers for quills,” says Aziraphale.

Crowley looks at the drying invitation on the desk, eyebrows raised, “How many invitations have you done?”

“Oh several dozen, they're in my trousseau with the complimenting monogrammed handkerchiefs!” the angel burbles nervously.

“A trousseau?!  I look forward to seeing that…especially the garters,” Crowley grins mischievously.

Crowley looks over his shoulder at the coffee shop where all their friends are glued to the windows trying to see their exchange.

Aziraphale follows his gaze, “Shall we let them in on the good news?” then opens the door behind Crowley and sweeps him out onto the step where the angel bellows, “I SAID YES!” and then tugs Crowley into a jog across the street.  They tumble hand in hand into the coffee shop into a cacophony of hugging, crying, laughing people.  Their friends are jumping up and down, and everyone is either hugging someone or clamoring to hear all about the proposal, before they move the party over to Kathy's shop to watch ‘Emma.’

[decadentladypirate]

Hottakes

(TW: Self Harm, Isolation, relationships)

I didn't see the Barbie movie yet because I got spoiled heavily to the point I know everything about the movie just because everybody else is chronically online. Other than the overwhelming amount of "mandatory make everything about woke versus based discourse" social media force-feeds me since 2014 (and the frequent mental breakdowns that came with it); I am happy. I like how random men are pissed off because of Barbie because they think everything that belongs to pop culture and fandom is supposed to be made for them but they get mad. CONGRATULATIONS. You felt something. When I see man marketed demographic things like the original Star Wars and Game of Thrones. I just don't get it, the prequels and Berserk was more interesting. And getting kicked out of society and social media for it is painful. Just because a severely unhealthy man with glasses a told them to like a thing or else they will get shunned by society or made to become a janitor for some tech company for wearing a pleather sports jacket and liking sports that one time. OR some bullshit like. I've had self harmed in the past over that because I don't like being told I am going to be in a horrible situation for *GASP* like the pleasing sensation of a rubber ball hitting a wooden floor or failing to keep up with Homestuck. Pro-geek propaganda was ablest during my childhood because I have a disability and mental illness and I didn't understand anything but I was forced to follow along. Yet got looked down on for not keeping up with the Joneses. Am I allowed on Tumblr to question that? Like we've seen the plethora of "oh you don't like Bionicle or Rick and Morty I'm kicking you out of the house, thot" memes plastered over the net they and thought it wouldn't bite back at them. Well it did, big time, and it got press coverage because journalists think tweets are newsworthy enough. Now I have a fear of hating a popular thing because of a fear of isolation so I am forced to miss out on everything.

But if I do like a manly thing that I understand then all the women who wanted to be my friend bullies me because they think I am a traitor. I am shunned by society again. Like WHAT GIVES? Just because I am a little bit tired of hearing about Taylor Swift's failed relationships and care more about other music during the mid 2010s on doesn't mean I hate entire demographics. Correlation isn't causation, I just want to do math and draw. I just wish she did more relatable things like show off a really cool collection, say her opinions on random shows she likes, tweet about her favorite webcomics, or show off a random bug she saw. Unfortunately the music business and Hollywood doesn't let artists have any signs of a well rounded personality and that is probably why I am so similar to weird Barbie. Considering the Swifties have the ability to sway economies and politics, I can see these are now precautions and Taylor is a very smart lady who calculates her moves like queen regnant in charge of empires.

But no, they have to promote a popstar's breakup over a devastating natural disaster, or human rights violation that should have gotten more press coverage. Also I self harmed because r/notlikeothergirls exists as a bullying tactic. Like come on, saying that you aren't a fan of a popstar doesn't mean you hate her, and drawing female led webcomics isn't anti-women or being too political.

I hate people, they're so petty. There are bigger things people should get upset over. I like the rerecorded versions more than the originals because I now like her "screw you Dr. Luke" phase and I finally can feel why early TS was awesome. I still want to see Barbie movie.

[feridsluver]

⚠️vent ⚠️

Tbh, I am not sure how I feel about certain situations. I am used to become numb to several feelings but at this point I feel like a lot has been erased. It's like there's nothing. I am not sure if I call this an improvement but I am relieved that most feelings that cause a depressive episode don't happen anymore. And I hate that. I hate that because of my emotional instability I can't have a healthy emotional relationship with me and other things I love. I hate the fact that these feelings cause a whole breakdown that have an unpredictable timing and occupation. Once I was so overwhelmed that I was shut down for 3 months. I barely was able to respond to anything, anything triggered my anxiety and I didn't have the situation under control. It went into a standard setting of something. To add on, my dissociation is becoming worse. It was fine at the beginning of the year, and now it happens in every conversation I have. I hate myself. Or at least I think that is what I do. I can't even have that emotional response to that. I hate the fact that I am too quiet in a group of people, the fact that I must give but never get and my entire personality. I wish I was different. I wish that sometimes life wouldn't be life. Life feels so meaningless. It's like a loop. You wake up, do your work, go home and sleep. Why do people care so much for it?That is what I question. Why do people value this circle? I am very relieved that I am not on the streets and go through actual shit. But why is life that exact thing? Why must there even be that consideration of suffering and all of that? I don't understand why people have to fight for their existence to be accepted. Jesus Christ you are human. Who tf cares if you support an expired orange or who tf cares if you support a liberal pedophile? You will die alone and no one is going to remember for "this persons sucks the conservatives off because they have a weird fetish of humiliation" or " I think I'm so cool because I hate a group of people who I generalise on a stereotype because my idiotic self doesn't understand the basic human rights." And the whole gender thing. Don't get me started. "MeN Are BetTer. NO WoMan Are." Kindly stfu. Did you know that nature made a system and it's called hetero sex? Yeah. So basically host of annoying Satan spawn has to get,WITH CONSENT, fucked by the man. Now to say that some men are like omg, consent? Tf you don't need that. Alright. I am not going to need your consent when I am going pop some of your organs out with a certain technique called: "mummification". (Yes the Pharaos actually consented to such things but guess what honey unlike the Pharaos who have been seen as a god hence why they had this treatment when they were dead, YOU WILL EXPERIENCE IT ALIVE.) or also the argument that "not all men". Personally that sounds to me like the same excuse some Germans pulled up with in the 1950's. but "not all nazis". STFU PLEASE. SOME MEN ARE FUCKING TERRIBLE BUT IF YOU PULL UP WITH THAT FUCKING LAME EXCUSE FOR YOU TO USE, IT CLEARLY SAYS TO ME "actually I want to use this argument so I don't get fucked over if I do smth shit." No nice man in the world would pull up with that argument. To come to my point; what does it matter on who tf I am? Pretty damn sure you don't need to know that I am pretty gay for women and a slut for men when you hand me your fucking money at the cashier. Or your ethnical background. I am white myself. But geez some of y'all sound fucking ridiculous when you tell a person that they can't cosplay a character because they are black. Guess what honey, I guess you can't visit the Indian restaurant that you have mistakenly thought was somehow Pakistani, because you are not Indian. So you can't enjoy Indian food anymore. Sounds stupid right? Well same argument . And why are politics so important? We are a species. A stupid species I might say so, but a species. A pathetic one at that. Imma cut that hot take off right here. Thank you for reading this abomination.

[nevertheless-moving]

Unnamed Extremely Bad Plan to Defeat Darth Sideous AU - SW AU NO 9

Hopefully writing down this star wars au will help me exorcise the cringe demon that helped midwife it. Time travel au where obi-wan and Anakin come up with an extremely SPECIFIC and UNCOMFORTABLE plan to defeat Palpatine because it unfortunately, would actually work, as it capitalizes on one of Palpatine’s easiest to reach political vulnerabilities. This is not a unique plan- there are other au’s like this, but this one is mine. When searching for ways to explain exactly why this anti-sith strategy inspires such cringe and delight in myself I realized, with sinking dread, I have seen this in an Always Sunny episode...which yeah. I might be over reacting but hey, cringe is a personal phenomenon, everyone’s different.

Anyway! Uh here’s a bunch of plot that will eventually culminate in the plan. 

*Too much plot, aaaah*. **All plot actually.** ***Its 1 am and this is still a draft*** ****It’s 2am**** *****This post will be just be background I guess.*****

*******STAR WARS AU NO 9 LAZILY OUTLINED CHAPTER ONE*********

Force ghosts Darth Vader and Ben Kenobi have had time to yell at one another without need for breath, and have more-or-less come to terms with the trainwreck that was their shared life. I wouldn’t call them well adjusted, but they’re more stable then they were the last decade or so of their living existence. 

In haunting Luke, they end up encountering an artifact in an ancient Willis temple that offers spirits the chance to fix the mistakes they made in life. It doesn’t truly unwrite what’s been done, but it lets you create an alternate timeline. So this galaxy will still be what it is, but some alternate galaxy somewhere could at least have it better. Its almost never been used, because becoming one with the force usually lets you accept the past, but viewed objectively, Vader and Ben’s lives involved an extreme amount of yikes. They say goodbye to Luke and are flung backwards and sideways.

Anakin is holding his mother as she dies. Obi-Wan is landing on Genosis. 

Vader just barely manages to avoid slaughtering the tuskens. To be honest, he doesn’t really get why he shouldn’t- his moral compass is still pretty f-ed up. He’s fairly certain the force is just torturing him, but still he controls himself (for Padme for Luke for Leia).

I’m gonna say well-adjusted!Vader sees murder in general as more of a vice than a sin- on par with having a beer. And really well adjusted Vader is willing to admit to himself that he’s an alcoholic, he seriously cannot regulate, its a problem. He really can’t let himself go, because he’ll just end up spiraling. And so he restrains himself and only seriously maims a few of the adult raiders.

Vader figures he can always come back later and slowly torture them to death if this whole ‘save the future’ thing doesn’t pan out.

Obi-wan leaves his shuttle and hides under a rock for 30 minutes. He calculates thats just enough time for him to pretend he went on an extremely effective and sneaky fact finding mission- just in case anyone checks R4′s records. Gets back in shuttle and gets the fuck out of there, much to Dooku’s chagrin, who lost sight of him after the shuttle landed and is now going to have to switch to one of his alternate start-the-war plans. 

On the flight back he reports everything to the council- fallen Dooku and the separatist leaders, the trade federation and the massive droid army, Jango Fett the clone template of the republic army (?) working for the separatists. He briefly comms Anakin, but anyone hacking into their conversations would hear only a nonsensical, rambling conversation. Later, a hacker might turn over the idea that they were speaking in elaborate code, but why would Jedi invent such a thing during peacetime?

The war still starts; at this point in the timeline it was inevitable; the artifact was only designed to give them the chance to correct their own failings, not the galaxy’s. Palpatine still gets his emergency powers. 

The same day the armies are discovered, separatist war ships take off to engulf Ryloth. The Jedi are instructed by the senate to lead the clone army and provide immediate relief-this will not be a repeat of the republic’s inaction on Naboo. It’s both better and worse than the first Battle of Genosis. So many more civilians are caught in the crossfire. The first titanic battle is not contained to evacuated droid factories, but rages across an entire populated world. The battle lasts for weeks.

The main reason this fight is less deadly is solely due to the fact that General Kenobi manages to maneuver his way into high command of the entire army.

 “I believe assumptions were made since I was the first point of contact with Kamino, Masters,” the Knight explained apologetically to the arriving high council members. “I realize its not quite appropriate, but for right now I am the Jedi most familiar with our forces and the enemies. I would, of course, prefer to cede the role to someone else.” 

The assembled Jedi can feel the truth in that statement.

“For better or for worse, advance troops were directed by the senate to land planetside and have met heavy resistance. I managed to redirect them to a more defensible position, where they can provide surface based cover fire for incoming reinforcements. The battle has already begun.” He received a grim nod of approval from Master Windu.

“I feel the need to say now, that if there’s one thing I learned from my time as a general on Melida/Dann, or in working against Death Watch on Mandalore, its that having a clear chain of command is vital for a military to succeed. I don’t need to remind some of you that leadership breakdowns were what ultimately ended both the Stark Hyperspace War and the Yinchorri Crisis,” Masters Koon and Tiin exchanged looks before deliberately sending forth a small force wave of approval, understanding where this briefing was leading. 

“I believe that unnecessarily restructuring command before the battle is won here could do far more harm than good.” The reminder of Obi-wan’s unusually militaristic apprenticeship put some of the assembled knights at ease even as it inspired a twinge of guilt in the older masters. 

“In command you are, General Kenobi,” Master Yoda finally acknowledged. “A Jedi Master you will be, once done this battle is. Have us do, what would you?” 

The battle lasts for weeks, and when its over, the commanding Jedi and Troopers involved will openly acknowledge that had anyone else been in command, it would’ve lasted months, if not years. Facing down logistical, strategic, and tactical problems on a scale unheard of for a thousand years, High General Kenobi does not falter.

Enemy reinforcements seem unending. For all their preparation, every single trooper is new to war, and secretly concerned that should they fall, they will be replaced with cadets who hadn’t even finished their training.

Obi-Wan is putting out fires before they can start. Much to their shock, clone commanders are informed that they will, for the time being, remain in charge of their troops. With a handful of exceptions, Jedi ‘Generals’ were in fact, to be treated as a cross between highly skilled commandoes and advisors with abnormally sourced field intelligence. 

“All of you have spent your lives training to lead your brothers into combat. The Jedi Masters and knights who are being assigned to your divisions have not received such training.” 

General Kenobi addressed the division commanders, some in person, some over holocomm. All focused in rapt attention as their General reordered the shape of their lives using language they could understand.

“The command structure I am issuing is designed to maximize our ability to utilize our respective strategic capabilities, while minimizing potential loss of your life. It will be our great privilege to serve alongside such an army, and while I fully expect a complementary exchange of knowledge in time, for now, focus on survival.”

The Jedi received similar briefings, tailored for their broader array of combat and military experience. Some, including Jedi Master Pong Krell and Grandmaster Yoda, were pulled aside and tasked with the essential mission of infiltrating and destroying the Droid factories on Genosis. If they were to have a chance of winning this war, they they would need to cut off the seemingly unceasing flow of droid reinforcements. 

An elite squadron of Arctroopers and Jedi field operatives were covertly dispatched, Grandmaster Yoda himself in command. Considering Count Dooku had yet to appear anywhere near Ryloth...the grandmaster had the best chance of bringing in the fallen separatist leader alive for questioning.

Shortly after they left, Anakin arrived, having finally turned over Padme’s protection to her regular guard. With the military creation vote past, the assassination risk was considered minimal. The real delay in his arrival came from her repeated attempts to join the Grand Army of the Republic on Ryloth with the intent of coordinating humanitarian assistance. Eventually he managed to convince her that she could do more good in the senate. 

After all, he pointed out, someone would need to followup the military creation act with a bill to grant clones equal citizen rights. Otherwise, the legal grey area that cloning fell under and their non-republic origin would inadvertently make the clones slaves. 

His borrowed Nabooan cruiser entered the warzone with the grace and efficiency as a small neutron bomb.

Those close enough to see its flaming descent watched in horror, realizing that the high generals own padawan would likely be a war casualty before he ever engaged in combat.

The legion nearest to soon-to-be-ground-zero, under the command of Captain Rex of the 501st, were distracted by heated combat, as the temporary barricade they had put up to defend the civilian population gave way to droidika artillery. 

While reloading, several dozen troopers happened to look up to see a speck detach itself from the hull as at spiraled in the lower atmosphere. Hope spread that the Jedi had managed to activate some sort of eject hatch. A skilled shocktrooper could probably control and and survive such a fall with luck, which mean a Jedi almost certainly could. 

A few tactical scouts charged with watching the skies confirmed that the speck was indeed a humanoid. No chute was visible, but even 8 days into the war, rumors had already spread about how Master Windu had passed off his chute mid-air to a troopers who had been damaged by suppressing fire, cushioning his free fall solely with the tank he crushed upon landing. 

Only one trooper, stationed in the town clock tower specifically to track the Padawan’s arrival and issued with a high-resolution farscope, saw the whole thing. Fortunately for his credibility later, in its current setting, the scope automatically logged photos every 5 seconds, ensuring that for years to come Obi-Wan would have a flipbook as evidence that he was not the crazy one.

CT-3609 or Blink (as he was named after winning the division wide staring contest on Kamino two year prior) forwarded the trajectory of the vehicle to command, who confirmed his analysis that it would impact two clicks out from their makeshift fort and not present a risk to civilian or trooper lives. 

As it traversed the stratosphere a figure (desperate repair droid, Blink assumed) emerged from the cockpit to perch on the nose of the ship. As it entered the troposphere, it became painfully obvious that the figure jutting out from the hull of the ship was in fact not a humanoid droid, but an unarmored human. The Jedi stood on the prow of the ship, seemingly impervious to and oblivious of:

air resistance 

centrifugal force

normal space gravity 

Blink’s slack-jawed bewilderment

the flames engulfing the ship below him

At this range, the smirk on the man’s face was visible (man? boy? kriff is he even through puberty?). Several miles above the surface he leaped, diving towards the ground like a bird of prey. 

To the west, the ship made impact with the ground, sending a shockwave that shook the tower just enough for Blink to lose visual in the final moments of descent. Cursing, as while he was confident the Jedi would inexplicably survive, he really wanted to see how. The trooper scanned the droid-engulfed farmland to the north for a crash site, to no avail. Lingering smoke from the burnt countryside negatively impacted visibility low to the ground.

Rather than trying to articulate his report into words, he sent the 50-odd frames the farscope had saved, as well as the coordinates for the jedi’s projected radius of touchdown. A quick radio over to long range electro-ballistics ensured that his landing wouldn’t be marred by friendly fire.

He awaited follow-up questions on the absurd entry method, which, when they came, mostly consisted of variations on “...Is this for real?” and eventually “Can you set the scope to video for a little while?” and finally “Do you think that’s how he got the name Skywalker?”

There was a temporarily lull in fire from the west, likely a ripple effect from the ship’s explosion. From his vantage point Blink could see his batchmates using the opportunity to try and plug the holes in their barricade with broken droid pieces. Regardless of the itch to join them, he knew he couldn’t leave his post until the Jedi actually arrived in camp. Finally, a distant explosion and thick pillar of smoke gave the Jedi’s position away.

He tried to make out details, but the scope had a difficult time focusing through the haze. Manually trying to fine tune the scope’s settings, Blink caught a glimpse of what looked like half a hover tank sailing through the air to impact with a trade federation troop carrier in a fiery explosion. Several more explosions, flying droid artillery, and plumes of smoke were caught on record before visual contact with the source was established. He was mostly visible as a blue blur, lightsaber mowing a meandering path towards their location. 

It wasn’t until Skywalker braced himself in place to punch a droidaka into pieces that Blink caught actual sight of the man. Only his eyes were visible, nose and mouth covered by layers of cloth. He blurred, then reappeared on top a massive missile launcher attached to an absurdly heavily armored vehicle. A minute or so of rapid blue flashes passed, the longest he had seen concentrated in one area. Then Skywalker was gone, movement clearly visible as he for once he moved in a straight line, plowing a rapid path away from the launcher. 

Less than 30 seconds later, Blink had to wince away from the scope, as a burning white explosion temporarily overwhelmed the direct light filter. The trooper panicked for a moment, thinking he had gone both deaf and blind, but the abrupt, sucking silence ended after a moment with a deafening sonic boom. The shockwave rattled the farscope, nearly knocking it over, but Blink managed to steady it and himself in time. 

A cheer emerged from pleasantly surprised vod below. The entire droid legion that had been guarding the missile launcher and apparent ordinance bay was flattened. 

It took a moment for the realization to set in that the background noise of missile and and anti-missile collisions directly overhead had slowed pace. With the northern flank gone, artillery were able to redouble efforts to the east, and a second white hot shockwave ensued, signaling that the tide of battle had shifted. It was almost too easy for the republics electro-ballistics to tactically devastate the surrounding forces. 

Eventually some sort of win/loss programming must have set in and all forces outside of a certain radius began retreating southward, conceding the scorched land to the republic army. It was cadets work to clean up the final suicidal droid charge. 

A commotion ensued as Skywalker leapt the barricade with a mid-air flip. The vod greeted him with cheers, as they correctly assumed his appearance had something to do with the skirmish’s decisive victory.

Blink sent the video of the battle to command and quickly packed up his scope and assorted equipment. Hurrying down the battered tower, Blink thought to himself that this Anakin Skywalker was the best sort of Jedi a trooper could ask for.

uh sorry i got really sidetracked there moving on

Kenobi and Skywalker quickly become the face of the war once again

they grit their teeth a bit, but when they finally have a moment to really plan they eventually agree that to take down Sideous they have to cut off his political power in addition to everything else, and taking advantage of their public personas was the most accessible way to do so (*evil laughter*)

While Dooku wasn’t captured, Yoda heard the truth in his old student’s cryptic warnings about a Sith in the Senate, and the council begins carefully editing their release of tactical plans to the Chancellor’s office in the hopes of ferreting out the spy in their midst.

Pong Krell looses two arms in his duel with Dooku. Obi-Wan successfully hides his smug pleasure at the news. Anakin enjoys makeing comparisons between him and Grievous. 

Kenobi doesn’t allow the origin of the clones to go unexamined, although he agrees that if the public were informed that they don’t actually know who ordered them it would probably cause panic.

The ‘inhibitor chips’ are ‘discovered’ early on and Anakin leads the effort to ensure that they are phased out and removed immediately. This consists of reminding every Jedi who even hesitates about how how he as a child slave had some experience with control chips and unless you want to take a leaf out of the hutts books lets start doing brain surgery chop chop mmmkay?

(This isn’t to say that Vader doesn’t still a twinge of shame at acknowledging his slave roots. But it is eclipsed by the burning guilt that he knowingly acted as slave master to his troops for decades after Sideous wiped their minds. He tried to rationalize it to himself, after all he didn’t immediately understand what Order 66 had done to the troopers. But while the morality of murder was more of an intellectual concern than a personal one, treating people as things...)

The Kamonions are a little harder to budge, referencing contracts that they refuse to allow the Jedi to see

Finally Vader snuck into the Chief Medical Scientist’s home while she was sleeping and straight-up threatened to murder her and burn down her lab. At the risk of losing her life’s work, Nala Se complied.

Vader left with the final threat that in the event that Darth Tyranus caught wind and activated Order 66 prematurely, he would kill 100 Kamonians for every Jedi felled by troopers. Shaak Ti was pleased by the cloners sudden change of heart. Tyrannus, and by extension, Sideous, are in the dark. 

Obi-Wan frequently publicly confronts Palpatine about the troops citizen status, urging him make use of his emergency powers to grant them citizenship and full pay, with the option to leave the army should they so wish. 

Anakin manages to play off his avoidance of the Chancellor as disappointment in his perceived lack of dedication to anti-slavery efforts

Finally Palpatine gives in- regardless of what happens next, the troops will be looked after.

With 2/3rds of the troopers dechipped, Vaderkin is eager to kill Sideous again, but after several intense screaming matches and sparring sessions, the time travelers come to the agreement that even if they succeed in their duel, with things as they were, the perception of the Jedi military coop would cause mass civil unrest. The scattered sith apprentices, while individually weak, were more than capable of magnifying that fear and anger until the galaxy breaks. Darth Sideous wanted to ensure that if he couldn’t have the galaxy, no one would. 

(Vader knows this. Sideous enjoyed monologuing, and much of his plotting couldn’t be safely bragged about until after he had decisively won, leaving Vader as the unwilling receptacle for years of pent-up rants and self-satisfied gloats about the inevitability of his victory)

Continued Here

[gimme-mor]

ACOTAR THINK PIECE: ELAIN AND THE CONCEPT OF CHOICE

*DISCLAIMER*

Please take the time to read this post in its entirety and truly reflect on the message I am trying to send before commenting. My goal is to use my background in Gender and Women’s Studies to deconstruct the behaviors and comments I have seen on Tumblr and Twitter, and, more importantly, bring awareness to the ACOTAR fandom. I WILL NOT tolerate anyone who tries to twist my words and say I am attacking people and their personal shipping preferences. In fact, I AM CRITIQUING THE ARGUMENTS THEMSELVES NOT THE PEOPLE USING THE ARGUMENTS.

As someone who has been a long time lurker on all sides of the ACOTAR fandom, the growing toxicity and hostility has become more apparent to the point that civil discourse is, for the most part, entirely lost. More times than not, the cause of the communication breakdown centers around Elain and the relationships she has with those around her. Before and after the release of ACOSF, I’ve noticed that when the fandom expresses its opinions about Elain and her development as a character, whether in a romantic light or generally, the conversation wholly hinges on the concept of choice. Common examples I’ve seen include:

Elain has been stripped of her choice for a majority of her life

Elain should be able to make her own choices

The King of Hybern took away Elain’s choice to be human when he had her tossed into the Cauldron

Elain did not choose the mating bond for herself, instead it was forced upon her

Elain feels pressured to choose Lucien

Elain should have the choice to stray away from what is expected of her

Elain and Azriel being together represents a different and stronger type of love because she’s choosing to be with him

If you ship Elucien, you’re not Pro-Elain because you’re taking away Elain’s right to choose who she wants to be with and forcing her to accept the mating bond

Elain chose to accept Azriel’s advances in the bonus chapter 

When Rhysand called Azriel away after catching him and Elain together, Elain was stripped of her choice to be sexually intimate with Azriel

When Azriel and Rhysand are talking in the bonus chapter, Elain’s choices aren’t at the center of their conversation

If you suggest that Elain should leave the Night Court, you’re stripping Elain of her choice to remain with her family

If you suggest that Elain should be friends with someone else, you’re ignoring Elain’s choice to be friends with Nuala and Cerridwen

Why is the concept of choice exclusively tied to Elain and everything surrounding her character while simultaneously ignoring that other characters in the ACOTAR series have, to varying degrees, been stripped of their choices at some point in their lives? And why isn’t the concept of choice connected to these characters in the same way that it is connected to Elain? For example:

Did the High Lords strip Feyre of her choice to consent when they turned her into a High Fae?

Did Tamlin and Ianthe strip Feyre of her choice to consent when they started to control every aspect of her life in the Spring Court?

Was Vassa stripped of her choice when the other Mortal Queens sold her to Koschei, which resulted in her being cursed to turn into a firebird?

Was Feyre stripped of her choice to know the risks involved in the pregnancy?

Did the King of Hybern strip Nesta of her choice to be human when he had her tossed into the Cauldron?

Was everyone stripped of their choices under Amarantha’s rule?

Was Feyre stripped of her choice to just be a daughter and a sister when the Archeron family failed to contribute to their survival, which resulted in Feyre being the family’s sole provider?

Did Lucien’s family strip him and Jesminda of their choice to be together when they killed her because of her status as a Lesser Faerie?

Are Illyrian females stripped of their choice to consent when their wings are clipped?

Did the Hybern general strip Gwyn of her choice to consent?

Did Ianthe strip Lucien of his choice to consent? 

Did Keir strip Mor of her choice to consent to her engagement to Eris?

Universally, femininity is synonymous with weakness and women often face discrimination because the patriarchy is part of an interactive system that perpetuates women’s oppression. Since the ACOTAR universe is set up to mirror a patriarchal society, it’s clear that the imbalance of power between males and females stems from sexism. The thing that sets Elain apart from other female characters in the ACOTAR series is the fact that SJM has portrayed Elain as a traditionally feminine character based on her actions and the ways in which Elain carries herself. Compared to them, Elain is inherently held to a different standard because her femalehood takes precedence over other aspects of her character in fandom discussions. These conversations indirectly place Elain on a pedestal and hail her as the epitome of traditional femininity; and when her character is criticized in any way, it’s seen as a direct attack against women, specifically women who are traditionally feminine. Also, these conversations fall back on Elain’s femaleness when analyzing her character since it can be assumed from a reader’s perspective that Elain, despite being the middle sibling, is coddled by those around her because her ultra-feminine nature is perceived as a sort of weakness in need of protection. However, the fact that the concept of choice is used as an argument to primarily focus on Elain’s femalehood highlights the narrow lens through which Elain, as a character, is viewed. It implies that Elain’s femaleness is all her character has to offer to the series overall and insinuates that Elain’s character development is dependent on her femaleness. To suggest, through the choice argument, that ACOTAR’s patriarchal society constrains Elain’s agency and prevents her from enacting her feminist right to choose while failing to examine the patriarchal structure of the ACOTAR universe and its impact on the female characters in the series, the choice argument ultimately falls apart because it shows that it’s only used to focus on Elain’s femalehood. Furthermore, the implication that Elain’s right to choose is, in itself, a feminist act in the series indicates that the concept of choice as an argument is used to promote choice feminism.

Feminism is a social movement that seeks to promote equality and equity to all genders, and feminists work toward eradicating gender disparities on a macro-level, in addition to challenging gender biases on a micro-level. Historically, feminism prioritized the voices of white women, specifically white women who were cisgender, able-bodied, affluent, educated, and heterosexual. But over the decades, the inclusion of women of color and other marginalized women’s voices has broadened the scope of feminism and caused it to take an intersectional approach when discussing social identities and the ways in which these identities result in overlapping systems of oppression and discrimination. On the other hand, choice feminism, a form of feminism, greatly differs from what feminism is aiming to accomplish. In the article “It’s Time to Move Past Choice Feminism”, Bhat states:

“Choice feminism can be understood as the idea that any action or decision that a woman takes inherently becomes a feminist act. Essentially, the decision becomes a feminist one because a woman chose it for herself. What could this look like? It could really be anything. Wearing makeup is a feminist act. Not wearing it is also a feminist act. Shaving or not shaving. Watching one TV show over another. Choosing a certain job over another. Listening to one artist over another. Picking a STEM career. Choosing to dress modestly or not. The list goes on. At first glance, there does not seem to be an apparent negative consequence of choice feminism. A woman’s power is within her choices, and those choices can line up with a feminist ideology. For example, a woman’s decision not to shave may be her response to Western beauty standards that are forced onto women. Not shaving may make her feel beautiful, comfortable, and powerful, and there is nothing wrong with that. Women making choices that make them feel good is not the issue. The issue lies in calling these decisions feminist ones. Choice feminism accompanies an amalgamation of problems‒the first being that this iteration of feminism operates on faulty assumptions about said choices. Liberal feminism neglects the different realities that exist for different women‒especially the difference between white women and women of color, transgender women and cis women, etc. Not all women have the same circumstance and access to choices, not all choices made by women are treated equally, and not all choices are inherently feminist” (https://www.34st.com/article/2021/01/feminism-choice-liberal-patriarchy-misogyny-bimbo-capitalism). 

Just as white feminism ignores intersectionality and refuses to acknowledge the discriminations experienced by women of color, choice feminism and arguments supporting choice feminism have, by default, made the concept of choice exclusionary. The individualization of choice feminism glorifies the act of a woman making an individual choice and, by extension, gives the illusion that women’s liberation from gendered oppression can be achieved by enacting their rights to make personal, professional, and political choices. Herein lies the problem with choice feminism: it (the argument of “But it’s my choice!”) stifles feminist conversations from exploring the depths and intricacies of the decision making process because it’s used as a way to shut communication down entirely, shield arguments from criticism, and condemn those who criticize choice feminism for its disconnection from a larger feminist framework. Contrary to what choice feminism advocates for, it lulls the feminist movement into complacency because women’s individual choices do nothing to alleviate gendered oppression. Choice feminism’s leniency towards choice fails to address the limitations of choice in regards to women’s intersectional identities and enables society to shift the blame of women’s oppression away from the societal and institutional structures in place to women themselves for making the wrong choices that ultimately resulted in their circumstances. Choice is not always accessible to every woman. For instance, choices made by white women are, in some way, inaccessible to women of color, in the same way that choices made by cisgender women are inaccessible to transgender women. Choice is one of the founding concepts of the feminist movement and it “became a key part of feminist language and action as an integral aspect and rallying call within the fight for reproductive rights‒the right to choose whether or not we wanted to get pregnant and to choose what we wanted for our bodies and lives” (https://www.feministcurrent.com/2011/03/11/the-trouble-with-choosing-your-choice/). When choice, in a feminist context, is framed as something that is solely about the individual as opposed to the collective, the feminist foundation on which it stands “leads to an inflated sense of accomplishment while distracting from the collective action needed to produce real change that would have a lasting effect for the majority of women” (https://www.jacobinmag.com/2017/03/i-am-not-feminist-jessa-crispin-review/). 

By linking the choice argument with choice feminist rhetoric and extreme acts of progressiveness, it plays into today’s negative understanding of a social justice warrior and normalizes fake wokeness. In its original conception, a social justice warrior was another way to refer to an activist and had a positive connotation; nowadays, the term carries a negative connotation and is:

“. . . a pejorative term for an individual who repeatedly and vehemently engages in arguments on social justice on the Internet, often in a shallow or not well-thought-out way, for the purpose of raising their own personal reputation. A social justice warrior, or SJW, does not necessarily strongly believe all that they say, or even care about the groups they are fighting on behalf of. They typically repeat points from whoever is the most popular blogger or commenter of the moment, hoping that they will ‘get SJ points’ and become popular in return. They are very sure to adopt stances that are ‘correct’ in their social circle” (https://fee.org/articles/how-the-term-social-justice-warrior-became-an-insult/). 

Today’s perception of the term social justice warrior is directly tied to fake wokeness because both are performative in nature, fueled by the drive to be seen as progressive, and derail necessary conversations from taking place by prioritizing toxicity. According to the article titled, “Three signs of fake ‘wokeness’ and why they hurt activism”, it states:

“. . . social media did not create activism: it did, however, create a legion of hashtags and accounts dedicated to issues . . . Sadly, fake woke people will use these hashtags or create these accounts, see that as contributing to a cause, and just call it a day; these same people tend to shame those without the same level of interest or devotion to a given cause . . . Ironically, as open-minded as the fake woke claim to be, they struggle to deal with opposition. More often than not, those who fit the fake woke bill will ignore, misconstrue, or shutdown anything remotely opposing their stances . . . Now yes, human nature often leads us to possess a bias against that which contradicts our views, but human nature should not serve as an excuse for irrational behavior. Opposition to our stances on issues helps activists more than it harms: it allows them to look at the causes they champion from a perspective they possibly ignored before, further enlightening them. More importantly, by discovering information that may refute what they believe, they can find and eliminate any flaws in their reasoning and strengthen their arguments. Activism involves opening up to change, something one stuck in an echo chamber can never achieve” (https://nchschant.com/16684/opinions/three-signs-of-fake-wokeness-and-why-they-hurt-activism/). 

Rather than critiquing ideas, thoughts, and theories about Elain and her character development with textual evidence, the concept of choice as an argument is used to silence opposing viewpoints. This is similar to choice feminism because the conversations start and end with the concept of choice, leaving no room for a critical analysis of Elain’s character. Although the concept of choice as an argument is intended to shed light on how ACOTAR’s patriarchal structure limits females’ agency to some degree, the fact that it’s only applied to Elain invalidates the point of the argument because it doesn’t include the experiences of other female characters when examining the impact of sexism in the ACOTAR universe. The failure to do so calls the intent of the choice argument into question. As it stands, the concept of choice as an argument frames Elucien shippers and those who are critical of Elain as woman haters, misogynists, and anti-feminists, especially if they identify as women. The belief that a woman is anti-feminist or a woman hater any time she dislikes another woman suggests that women have to be held to a different emotional standard than men. If men are able to dislike other individual men without their characters being compromised, why can’t women? Feminism and what it means to be a feminist do not require women to like every woman they encounter. One of the many things feminism hopes to accomplish is granting women the same emotional privileges afforded to men. 

Terms like “oppression”, “the right to choose”, “feminist”, “feminism”, “anti-feminist”, “anti-feminism”, “internalized misogyny”, “misogyny”, “misogynist”, “sexist”, “sexism”, “racist”, “racism”, “classist”, “classism”, “discrimination”, and “patriarchy” are all used in specific ways to draw attention to the plight of marginalized people and challenge those who deny the existence of systems of oppression. Yet these words and their meanings can be twisted to attack, exclude, and invalidate people with differing opinions on any given topic. When social justice and feminist terms are thrown around antagonistically and carelessly to push a personal agenda, it becomes clear that these terms are being used to engage in disingenuous discourse and pursue personal validation rather than being used out of any deep-seated conviction to dismantle systemic oppression. The personal weaponization of social justice and feminist concepts is a gateway for people who oppose these movements to strip these terms of their credibility in order to delegitimize the societal and institutional impacts on marginalized people.

It’s important to question how an argument is framed and why it’s framed the way that it is to critically examine the intent behind that argument: is it used as a tool to push a personal agenda that reinforces dismissive, condescending, and problematic behaviors, or is it used as an opportunity to share, learn, enlighten, and educate? The concept of choice as an argument is extremely problematic because: it limits fruitful discussions about Elain within the fandom; enables arguments that oppose opinions about Elain and her narrative development to masquerade as progressive by pushing social justice and feminist language to their extremes; normalizes the vilification and condemnation of individuals who are either critical of a ship, Elain as a character, or prefer her with Lucien; encourages an in-group and out-group mentality with differing opinions about Elain’s development resulting in politically charged insults; exploits social justice and feminist terms; ignores that harm done on a micro-level is just as damaging as harm done on a macro-level; and cheapens Elain’s character and her development.

There is more to Elain than her being a female who is traditionally feminine. Elain has the potential to be as complex of a character as Feyre, Nesta, Rhysand, Lucien, Cassian, Azriel, Amren, and Mor, and to reduce her character to her femalehood in fandom discussions is a disservice to Elain as a character, the ACOTAR fandom, and SJM’s writing. So I ask this: is there a reason why the fandom heavily emphasizes the concept of choice when discussing Elain that goes beyond a simplistic analysis of her as a character (i.e. using the concept of choice as an argument to reinforce Elain’s femaleness), or is the concept of choice used as a shield to prop up one ship over another?

gimme-mor library

[marveltrumpshate]

As we said in our closing message at the end of this year’s auction, 2020 has been a year of tremendous change—change that we had no control over and change that we made with our own hands. Many times this year—and the past four years under the Trump administration for those of us in the U.S.—we’ve felt helpless in the face of terrible upheaval. But rather than forcing us to give up, the calamities we’ve witnessed and experienced galvanized us. We’ve seen people volunteer to drop off groceries for immunocompromised neighbors during the pandemic. We’ve seen people donate generously during the worst global economic crisis in modern history. We’ve seen people become more politically active, taking to the streets to protest and voting in record numbers like they are tonight.

And we’ve seen that same passion, that same desire to make change and help people, fuel all the MTH participants this year.

We weren’t sure what the turnout would be like. Would people have the time or energy to sign up as creators? Would people be willing to donate, and would they have the means to do so?

Our worries proved to be baseless.

This year, 273 “Marvel”-ous creators came forward to offer 416 auctions.

And this year, we raised…

That’s just over $11,000 more than the MTH 2019 total. 😮💖🎉

We’re going to channel Beast here and exclaim, “Oh my stars and garters!”

The race started off with a bang, with bids racking up quickly on the first day. Even so, we were shocked when we matched last year’s total, which we weren’t sure we could do ($27,193.91 was beyond our wildest expectations), and then just ran right past it before the auction even ended!

It’s been an incredible journey, with the mod chat pinging at all hours with excited gifs, effusive heart emojis, and inarticulate keyboard smashes as we expressed our love for the wonderful people in our fandom. It’s been very hard not blurting out the milestones as we reached them when we desperately wanted to share these amazing results with you all.

Creators, we couldn’t have started this auction without you. We loved seeing so many veteran creators sign up again and were pleasantly surprised by how many new faces showed up to the party.

Bidders, as crazy as it sounds, most donations were small ones (including some of those crazily high winning bids—several were the result of people pooling their five dollars together!). This has been consistently the case since MTH began. It just goes to show how much of an impact you can have when you’re part of something bigger than yourself. Each donation has a ripple effect, and enough ripples can cause a wave. You matter, and you can make a difference.

We also owe our success to our amazing signal boosters. There can’t be an auction without any participants, so to every fandom community Tumblr that agreed to reblog our posts, every Discord server mod who let us post announcements, and every person who shared our posts and encouraged their fandom friends to sign up and/or bid, thank you so much! Together, we reached hundreds of fantastic creators and bidders from all corners of the Marvel fandom, many of whom we didn’t know and some who were hearing about us for the first time.

Thank you all. We’re so touched by the massive number of people who donated above and beyond their pledged amount, creators who took on multiple auctions and offered multiple winner slots, and bidders who accepted their second-place wins with such eagerness! We also had people make donations in the spirit of MTH even though they didn’t win an auction, which was beyond generous.

We’ve already seen how our donations are changing the world for the better. To name a few examples:

Partners In Health is on the ground testing, providing care, assisting local government response, and mobilizing community health workers in countries where the mortality rate for COVID-19 is expected to be much more severe than those with well-resourced health systems

The Southern Poverty Law Center raised $10 million to fight voter suppression in the South, with some great successes in Florida

World Central Kitchen has purchased over 10 million meals from small, independent restaurants in 400 cities, putting $105 million and counting directly back into the economy and helping both struggling businesses and people who need food the most during the pandemic

We’re sure that in the months and years to come, we’ll see even more wonderful results.

In addition to the astounding amount of money we were able to raise for charity, MTH was successful in other ways. We strove to be as inclusive as possible, determined to make this event a fandom-wide effort. Considering that the auctions covered over 369 unique platonic and romantic relationships (if we include “all ships/gen”-inclusive relationships, this number is even higher) across 31 universes within the Marvel multiverse, we can safely say that we accomplished our goal.

This spirit of inclusion also applies to our auctions and charities. Every one of 416 auctions was bid on, and every one of our 30 supported charities received donations. We’re in awe of your commitment to supporting all our creators and charities and thrilled that you spread all the love around, bidders!

Here’s our breakdown of the donations (click to enlarge the image and hover to see the donation amount per charity):

We’ve also listed the amount raised per charity on our 2020 auction results page.

From the bottom of our hearts, we thank you for helping us turn our third Marvel Trumps Hate auction into such a fantastic experience. We cherish every single message of love and support that we received and continue to receive on our Discord server and through DMs, Tumblr messages, emails, tweets, etc. THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!

To remember or learn why we created this auction in the first place, please check out our 2018 “thank you” post to all of our creators, bidders, signal boosters, and supporters.

If you’d like to stay updated on all of the 2020 Marvel Trumps Hate fills, follow us and/or check out the “mth 2020” tag on our Tumblr. You’ll also be able to find works posted on AO3 in our Marvel Trumps Hate 2020 collection and links to fills in our Discord server, which you can join to brainstorm prompts, chat about fills, and find out about other fandom events.

Thank you once again to everyone who volunteered their services, time, money, and platforms to spread the word. Though we may sometimes wonder how much of a difference we can make, it’s moments like this that show that every bit helps, no matter the size of our contribution. With that in mind, we’d like everyone to keep the following quote close to their hearts as we move forward and find ways to make the world a better place, to remember these words when they’re feeling lost or small.

“Purpose is the essential element of you. It is the reason you are on the planet at this particular time in history. Your very existence is wrapped up in the things you are here to fulfill.” — Chadwick Boseman

Think about your purpose. Think about what you can do while you’re here. Know that you matter.

And with that, MTH 2020 has officially come to a close. We’re so beyond grateful to you all, and we can’t wait to see all of your fanworks over the coming year!

Lots of love and gratitude, Your 2020 MTH mods

[ophelia-and-the-damned]

I’m aware that on a lot of academia and aesthetic blogs, owners hesitate to post social justice because it doesn’t “fit with their theme.” Furthermore, some people on here aren’t comfortable talking politics, and will avoid discussions about activism.

Just to make it absolutely clear to anyone who even slightly stumbles into my account, yes, I am pro-LGBTQIA+ (The T and A DO belong, Terfs DNI), black lives DO matter, COVID is NOT a conspiracy created by your Asian neighbors and fellow citizens, the vaccine is NOT a microchip and does save lives, the actions at the border are monstrous and need to be handled no matter who is in charge, women in America STILL have a long way to go before we can be treated as equals to men (look up stories about women trying to get permanent sterilizations and then tell me that sexism doesn’t exist in the medical US of A), women should ALWAYS have access to abortion, the actions by lawmakers in Texas ARE monstrous, Russia is NOT a conservative utopia, it’s actually terrible to live in if you’re a member of a marginalized community (??? Can’t believe I’ve seen people argue this), and there DOES need to be police reform and defunding, no matter how radical that sounds.

I’m far left. I think I actually qualify as a philosophical anarchist on the political spectrum. I know to a lot of people this might sound aggressive, particularly if you come from a traditionally white suburbia like I do. But please do some research, into the BLM movement, critical race theory, modern gender theory, the impacts of colonialism and how they affect us even now, racial objectification in the media, etc. Look into the origin of police forces. Learn why the new Texas abortion laws are so destructive to the foundations of our country (if you live in the US, of course).

I hate to have to post this, because I know I’m coming off as just another white girl whining on tumblr about things she “doesn’t have a stake in” and a lot of people on here would say something like “have loyalty to your race” (this site has a huge neonazi problem). But I do have a stake in this. My fellow college students come from all kinds of backgrounds. I’ve met people from all over the world, like Vietnam and France and Morocco and India, and they’re important to me because they’re all part of my community. I’m queer (Pan-romantic demisexual), a good amount of my friends are LGBT, and of course, I am a woman. I’m a human being. Of course I want to see other people treated like human beings. Pretending that everything is fine is only making it worse.

I can’t post any of this on my social media that has my real name, because my family would fucking kill me (very conservative background, my mother nearly disowned me when she found out that I had a crush on a girl in middle school). I accidentally admitted that I’m newly vegetarian at a family gathering and they all lost their minds over something as small as that. I had a breakdown regarding the treatment of BLM protestors back in June and my mother threatened to cancel my college application because she thought I was being dramatic. I know that it’s still bad that I have to hide this away, and I guess that this can be viewed as a kind of confession because I feel an intense amount of guilt about it. White silence is a real thing and by posting stuff like this anonymously I’m only committing to the problem. Donating and voting can only go so far. We as a society have to be vocal, but I’m just not in a place where I can do that right now, and I’m sorry.

That being said, expect a ton more social justice posts from now on. I really try to focus in on articles that I think people should read and links to donation services to help get people more funding. I don’t use tumblr a lot but when I do I try to do stuff like this at least semi often. This isn’t really an aesthetic blog, it’s just a collection of things that I care about. And I really care about this.

Again, I don’t really feel like it’s my place to say some of this stuff. White voices shouldn’t drown out POC voices. But I just want to make this absolutely clear for anyone that happens to stop by. I picked the name Ophelia and the Damned because I like focusing on the concept of “others” in literature, ones that cis white male authors tend to portray as stepping stones for the protagonist (hence, Ophelia). So Neo-Nazis, Terfs, pedophiles, racists, transphobes, homophobes, sexists, and other people of hate, DNI. I’m not interested in hearing your viewpoint. If your voice can’t come from a place of empathy, then why bother speaking at all?

[supercantaloupe]

on Aelwyn Abernant, the Reformed Villain Squad, and redeeming teenage antagonists

an analysis on antagonist character development in Fantasy High. spoilers through sophomore year and (mildly so) the most recent roll20 oneshot. essay under the cut bc i am very long winded

the turnaround with Aelwyn in s2 is handled so well  i cant get over it. she was such a major antagonist in the first season and just. despicable. she had no pathos. we hated this bitchy older sister who tried to kill Adaine and her friends and raise an evil dragon, and when she gets knocked on her ass and thrown in jail, we cheer.

and then s2 fucking starts saying “hey she’s in jail still if you’d like to look into that” and pursuing that thread ends up being almost as comedic an idea as it is a reluctant one; it’s also quickly shunted to the background as soon as more pressing leads present themselves, to the point where we almost forget about her until Adaine is kidnapped and then the first time you see her it’s just. viscerally upsetting.

she’s bad. she did evil. she got what she deserved.

but she already got what she deserved. last season.

she got her ass handed to her by a bunch of 14 year olds including her little sister (how embarrassing!). her plans were thwarted. she got punched in the face and made fun of. she already got her punishment.

it just……immediately registers as over-the-top Wrong to be told “hey, remember that antagonist you beat last season? she’s still being punished for that, except it’s way worse than just going to mumple.”

and there’s that reminder that like…this is a teenager. a child. who has been manipulated and abused. which is a really fascinating look at this character we used to see pretty much unilaterally as a one dimensional bitchy villain.

i mean we got a more in depth look at Penelope’s and Biz’s motivations in s1 (Penelope being the popular rich girl sorceress obviously hungry for power and the alllure of the high school clout that is being prom queen, but also we know that her having to turn on her best friend Sam Nightingale as part of the scheme was something she was reluctant and not happy to do; and Biz being that predatory incel creeper type dude besides just a nerd with computers and a lack of social graces). and they were as much willingly active in the plot as Aelwyn was. yet in s1 they really never do bother to explore Aelwyn’s motivations. i remember after watching s1 but before s2 that was one of my biggest lingering questions: why tf was Aelwyn involved?

well. she was manipulated and abused. her terrible parents raised her in an awful environment that conditioned her to Listen and Obey and Behave and Be Perfect, and then Kalina helped cinch the noose around her neck with threats and coersion into the KVS Kaper and the NMK crown debacle. she doesn’t freely choose any of it; she’s coerced, manipulated, abused.

and she already got justifiably punished for her bad actions in s1. the torture is almost literal overkill. it’s just……there’s this immediate turnaround in sympathy and view of the character. on first watch, it’s viscerally upsetting to see her getting so brutally punished for actions she already faced consequences for, and on rewatch, it makes your skin crawl to know she’s being tortured for terrible things she had little choice in carrying out. and tortured by some of the very same people who coerced her to behave terribly in the first place, to add insult to injury.

and it’s still fucking frustrating when they rescue her and her memory gets reset and she goes back to her parents because it’s like “well shit, she’s evil again, and we just wasted all that effort for nothing” but it’s also sad cause we know she’s running back to her abusers and she isn’t happy about it but doesn’t feel like she has a choice. and it’s sadder still that what eventually inevitably gets her to turn to good for good (i.e. away from her parents) is just. a full dissociative mental breakdown.

(but then she survives and it’s gonna be good!!! until Adaine dies in her fucking arms. which is. almost funny. she’s been through so much shit and that isn’t something that Brennan would have just. preplanned. like a written in plot point. no, that was just an unpredictable consequence of the battle. what a juicy fucking moment. she’s been through All That Shit™️ and has finally turned to fight for good and her sister just fully dies in front of her. yeowch)

and she turns out okay in the end. she comes out the other side alive and whole and supported by her sister and her friends, with the hope of a future and recovery. there is an acknowledgement that A) she can and will grow from her mistakes and damage, B) it’s going to be really hard, and C) the post-s2 one shots both prove that she’s doing okay now. hell, she has a whole squad now of other former-teenage-villains-turned-good-guys. she has friends now, Ragh and Zayn, with common ground, and a secret handshake and everything. they’ve all grown from the mistakes of their past into better, happier, healthier people

and about Zayn and Ragh. we’ve seen a lot of characters, protagonist and antagonist, teenage and adult, PC and NPC do some really fucked up shit and get punished for it. but why do they get happy endings? why are Aelwyn, Ragh, and Zayn the only members of the RVS and not someone else like Biz or Penelope or Dayne? 

well, the latter two are dead by then; but then again, Biz and Ragh were also killed by the Bad Kids in s1, and subsequently resurrected. (Zayn died too, but was neither killed nor revived at the Bad Kids’ hands, so i’ll get to him in a sec.) and there are plenty of adult antagonists the Bad Kids face who are killed and left that way by the Bad Kids without second thought: Johnny Spells, Coach Daybreak, Captain Wicklaw, the Abernant parents (presuming Arianwen doesn’t survive in the forest for very long, which i doubt). why do some characters get second chances while others don’t?

in the case of Zayn, his death was pretty much out of the Bad Kids’ hands, and they later found out he was manipulated by Daybreak into being bad anyway because of his sad living situation. he was a pretty minor antagonist in the scheme of things, and when we re-meet him as a ghost in the s1 epilogue, he’s pretty obviously remorseful for his actions. and dying seems like a steep enough punishment to me for the shit he did to contribute to the KVX caper; returning as a ghost, free from the trappings of his unfortunate living life, he now has the room and freedom to grow into a better person.

in the cases of Daybreak, Spells, Wicklaw, and the Abernant parents: these are bad people who should know better. these are fully grown adults who actively choose to do evil. whether they think it’s the right thing to do or not (in Daybreak’s case), whether they think it will benefit them and don’t care about anyone else (in the Abernants’ case), or whether they don’t care much at all and are just doing shit because they feel like it (in the cases of Spells and Wicklaw), these are all adults who consciously make the decision to do terrible things and hurt other people. of course Johnny Spells, who is generally a punk thief and thug, is not on the same level of bad as Angwyn, who kidnaps and tortures his own daughters for political gain, but the point remains. these fuckers should know better. they’re grown ups. they had their chances to be good and they chose not to heed them. their minds are set on bad actions and they are a continued danger to other people as long as they are alive. when they die, the Bad Kids do their damndest to make sure it stays that way.

now, in the cases of Penelope and Dayne: these are teenagers who actively chose to participate in an evil plot. Penelope, Dayne, and Biz were all fully cognizant of what they were doing trying to raise KVX back to his former power. why? well, to some extent, we can only speculate. i suspect Penelope was just one of those Regina George bitches who is rich and popular and powerful and obsessed with power and popularity within high school as if that’s the end-all-be-all of existence (which, like, when you’re currently in high school, is a somewhat understandable worldview i think). Dayne being her boyfriend and a musclehead jock probably falls into a similar line of thinking. they are actively and willingly trying to cause harm, and teenager or not, must be stopped. they’re killed, anyway, during the Climactic Battle™️ anyhow; it’s not like the Bad Kids were going to gain anything at that point by keeping them alive.

now, Biz: Biz is the creepy Nice Guy incel type, sees woman as a prize he deserves to win, yadda yadda. he does, like Penelope and Dayne, actively choose to help KVX. there might be something to be said about his motivation the Bad Kids discover after the arcade battle by detecting his thoughts (that being to upload the captured maidens from the palimpsests to “call the shots” himself) is an altered memory; whether this was his original motivation from the start or not, i’m not sure. but the Bad Kids do kill him – and then resurrect him for important, time-sensitive information. and they beat it out of him – he gets two of his fucking fingers blown off. and Riz reattaches them once they have their info, and they realize his memory is altered. of course, the Bad Kids don’t know at this point that the altered memory was something he, Penelope, and Aelwyn had planned and agreed on and done to themselves, but this points to something important in my opinion: the Bad Kids, and the narrative/show as a whole by extension, acknowledge that external manipulation affects how guilty someone is in a crime.

which brings us to Ragh. Ragh, introduced from episode 1 as the meathead jock. Ragh the archetypical one-dimensional high school bully. Ragh who works with the harvestmen in effort to (ostensibly) end the world/provoke international war. Ragh, whose low intelligence but high loyalty and internalized homophobia led him to be fully swayed and blindly led by his coach and captain, who have actively chosen to do evil. Ragh who is killed in combat by the Bad Kids and resurrected for information, not Daybreak. Ragh, who the Bad Kids realize was probably not aware of exactly what he was being made to do and how bad it really was. Ragh, who by their kindness in sparing his life and directing him on a better path, becomes a well-rounded character and an active ally to the Bad Kids during and after prom, an invaluable companion during their quest in sophomore year, and overall a really good friend and person. 

(it might also be worth considering the case of Jawbone here, too, who started out a very minor antagonist in a fight but ended up becoming a major NPC because the Bad Kids talked to him, found out he came from an unfortunate situation and set of circumstances, and showed him kindness in offering the school guidance counselor position, a kindness that isn’t really owed but given anyway and ends up changing his entire life for good.)

and then, Aelwyn, whose case is already discussed above. so, why is the RVS what it is, why them but not others?

if you’re familiar with Avatar: the Last Airbender, you’re probably familiar with Zuko’s character arc, and how it’s often lauded as a masterful example of developing a villain into a hero over the course of a narrative. what makes Zuko’s arc so well done and exceptional is that he starts out as a kid in a bad situation under the influence of bad adults seeking to do bad deeds, but he later realizes the error of those ways, actively removes himself from that situation despite the difficulty and danger in doing so, goes through a lot of shit and reflects on his past mistakes and learns from them, and then actively chooses to fight for good in the end with the help of close, trusted friends, found family. 

this, i believe, is the same in the case of Fantasy High and its treatment of the RVS. its members, like Zuko, are all teenagers who came from shitty situations and were manipulated by evil adults to do bad. they are punished for their bad actions, and they learn from their errors and mistakes. with the kindness and help of good people, friends and chosen family, they are able to escape their abusers and bad situations and grow into their own people. and they actively choose to improve themselves with that help and fight for good.

Fantasy High, through the arcs of Jawbone, Zayn, Ragh, and especially Aelwyn, asserts that it is not your fault if you come from a bad situation and are forced to behave badly as a result. it does not pretend that you are absolved of any responsibility for those actions; quite the opposite, as even though they were externally manipulated into their evil actions, all of those mentioned characters face tangible consequences for their actions and later express remorse for their mistakes. but Fantasy High also asserts that even if you have made great mistakes in your past, even if you came from a bad situation beyond your control, even if you were manipulated and abused, with care and love and support and a hell of a lot of work and effort, you can improve your situation and find good, happiness, peace, you can thrive. evil adults who should know better don’t get redeemed. teenagers who aren’t coerced but actively choose evil don’t get redeemed. but abused kids deserve another shot at happiness. with enough work, and some love and help along the way, they can get there, even from the lowest imaginable point, from rock fucking buttom. it’s possible. 

[bookofmirth]

I haven't read ACOSF yet, and tbh I'm rather rusty with the characters but it was really interesting to read your opinion on Elain! I feel there's a lot of complexity to her. And how she presents herself as well because as you said we literally have no chapters from hers or Lucien's POV and I think that's the important point to note because right now we're all just guessing and assuming her to be like Feyre, but she's not. People deal/show their traumas in different way and l think people expect Elain to deal with it as Feyre did. But, Feyres trauma and Elains are very different!

I don't really know what I'm saying. But I read your answer and it made me go 'oh... Huh!' in a good way, it sparked my curiosity! So thank you! But I think Elain perhaps is the most complex person with their trauma. I know people say 'oh Nesta is so different' but (I specialised in drama therapy so I love psycho analysis) and what Nesta did is self destructive to prevent relationships to avoid hurt or more emotions that she doesn't want to acknowledge (in my opinion!)

Elain just shuts down. She doesn't drink, she doesn't screw, she just remains in her garden which in itself says a lot! That's a very grounding way to handle trauma and not a lot of people are aware of that side!

So yeah I don't know what I'm saying but I think it's a really interesting discussion!

I have so many thoughts about Elain! This took me a few days to get to because i knew I had a crapton of thoughts. So this is basically me using this ask to explain the way I see Elain post-acosf!

There are three important scenes in acosf off the top of my head: when Elain talks with Nesta and they fight, and then with Nesta and Feyre and she gets mad and leaves, and then Feyre and Rhys talk about her in their chapter. We’re getting a lot more information about her, and for me, it wasn’t so much about who she is, but why we don’t know who she is.

So far, what we’ve had is Feyre’s and Nesta’s POV. Even when Feyre and Lucien tried to help her in acowar, they were unable. So we’ve never had anything about Elain from someone who didn’t grow up with her and experience the same trauma (such as becoming destitute, their mother’s death, their father being beaten, the Cauldron, etc.)

The sisters do handle it very, very differently. And I think that at this point the fandom consensus is that Elain runs away from her problems, but I actually disagree, and partly because of what you mentioned - that she isn’t using those self-harming, destructive coping mechanisms. Nesta was avoiding her problems, hardcore. It’s absolutely possible that Elain avoids things, but I don’t think that she just runs from all of her problems because:

Elain grieves her father. Openly. She tries to accept the fact that it wasn’t her fault and that she couldn’t do anything about it. (See: her going to his grave in acofas, her first talk with Nesta in acosf.) Elain does not run from her grief, she doesn’t pretend it doesn’t exist, and she doesn’t hide it from others. As one of the most defining events we’ve seen her go through in the series, that’s a pretty big deal.

Elain does not cling to unhealthy coping mechanisms. There could be ways that she does this that we are unaware of. She does seem like the type who would be really, really good at making people think she’s okay, all while she’s silently imploding. But we don’t know that yet?

Elain does not isolate herself. 

However, Elain definitely needs to deal with some stuff! She definitely needs to deal with Lucien, and she needs to have an actual talk with Nesta because I don’t remember a single satisfying resolution between those two in acosf. Not like Nesta had with Feyre. 

I have this idea that is purely based on Elain’s line in acosf:

“I went into the Cauldron, too, you know. And it captured me. And yet somehow, all you think of is what my trauma did to you.” (pg. 233)

And then Feyre tells Nesta that yes, Elain was right. 

This is so so so sossosososos important. I cannot emphasize it enough. Elain is used to putting on a fake, smiling face because she doesn’t want the weight of her sisters’ concern. She has been pretending to cope for so long - and tbf, she seems to have been doing better than Nesta - that people not only forget that she has suffered, but she doesn’t feel like she can even express that suffering.

Emotional labor often means negating one’s own feelings in order to acknowledge or tend to someone else’s. And that is Elain’s major role, in the series. Feyre has been caring for everyone’s physical wellbeing (hunting), while Elain’s role has been to care for everyone’s emotional wellbeing. But, like with most emotional labor, it has gone unnoticed.

I’ve made posts about emotional labor in the past (four years ago!!!!) but I’m gonna spare you the link because a lot of it was about a ship that’s no longer a ship, so here is the relevant content:

What I am talking about is the regulation of emotion - any time that you give comfort, are especially attentive to someone’s needs, stop thinking about how you feel in order to focus on how someone else feels, try to cheer someone up, make sure that they are taking care of themselves, try to allay their insecurities, etc. Basically, helping them with any sort of emotional distress.

You know those posts you’ve seen, about women protecting men’s egos constantly? Or about making time for self-care? Or about recognizing toxic relationships? That tell you “if X is being demanded of you in a relationship, get out”? Those are ALL about emotional labor, broadly speaking. They are warning you not to do more than you can handle, more than you need to do, because it can be harmful to you.

If you have ever been expected to make a person or people feel better any time you are around each other (including when they are angry, upset, anxious, ill, frustrated, insecure, etc.), you have performed emotional labor. Pretty much everyone has done this at some point, unless you are a completely insensitive jerk.

Notice, though, that I said expected to and any time you are around them – this is where the problem comes in for YOU. This is not about just being there for a friend.

Making loved ones feel better is fantastic. Seeing people be polite and kind to one another makes my heart shine. That is not a problem in and of itself. That can be seen as emotional labor, but there are no requirements on you in those circumstances. This is something you are doing of your own free will.

The problem, again, is when this is expected, constantly, over time. Now, in my experience, the expectation is not necessarily coming from the other person. One of the problems with this type of labor is that not only do others expect women to perform these tasks, but women expect it of themselves.

It’s super easy to see this – who is expected to take care of a child when they fall? Who is expected to baby-sit? Who did you want when you were sick as a child, mom or dad? Who is expected to be sensitive and pay attention to others’ emotions?

For more info on this idea specifically, read Of Woman Born by Adrienne Rich. As a woman, I realized how much work I had been performing and how much it was harming me and I just… got real upset. She comes at this mostly from what a woman’s role is expected to be within the family, and might actually be a bit outdated in that respect because I feel like family structures and dynamics are shifting (that is a totally un-academic evaluation of the situation, don’t quote me on that), but still, it’s really informative.

While I was doing some research for this post I came across a peer-reviewed article about nursing and basically, high amounts of emotional labor led to anxiety and burn-out in those performing it. It literally will cost your mental health – not to mention your time, energy, attention, and it often requires you to ignore your own needs (this last part came from me, not the article). On the other hand, high levels of emotional intelligence (being able to recognize your own and others’ emotional states) meant less emotional labor (and therefore less anxiety & burn-out). One of the most important things to realize is that while you are taking care of someone else’s emotional needs, your own are frequently unmet. That is why it’s important to recognize this in yourself, not just in these characters.

So where does Elain fit in? Elain is the #1 emotional labor provider of the family, and she is about to freaking SNAP. I know, because once I realized how my trauma was hidden in order to spare someone else its consequences, I fucking SNAPPEd. I’ll also spare you the personal details, but Elain hasn’t been “okay”. She hasn’t been “boring”, or “nice”, or “chosen” Feyre over Nesta. She has literally been unable to express herself because (and I am NOT blaming Nesta or Feyre or her father one bit) her family’s emotional state has been so fragile, there hasn’t been room for Elain to feel or express her emotions in years. 

In the feysand short, Rhys says:

I wonder if everyone has spent so long assuming Elain is sweet and innocent that she felt she had to be that way or else she’d disappoint you all.

And that completely tracks. Everyone has gotten used to Elain being not just “nice”, but being the emotionally predictable one. The one they know they can go to for a smile. The one they can count on for never, ever making them realize that she has been through Some Shit Too. And being that person is exhausting.

When Feyre thinks about Elain not using Lucien’s gloves, 1) she still has them, otherwise she couldn’t think about Elain not using them, and 2) I like to see the gloves as something that she will come to use, once she realizes that she can feel and express those emotions without it causing a breakdown in the family. Right now, she just wants to feel. And she can’t do that emotionally, so she’s doing it physically. Once she heals and finds a better balance, she won’t need to resort to physical pain. (Which, lowkey has me thinking some other thoughts, but.... maybe later.) But anyway, once Elain does go through her very own special journey, I fully expect her to welcome those gloves. She won’t need physical pain to feel anymore.

Not to mention my completely unacademic and non-professional opinion that people will judge a nice women harshly for being rude once, but accept a woman with a history of rudeness for just “being that way”. It’s another way that Elain may feel trapped in her “nice girl” persona. I think she started out that way - kindness and light and generosity is 100% in Elain’s character in the first place. It’s not as if she went into the Court of Nightmares and suddenly Cassian thought, “wait, she fits right in to this shithole of depravity”. No, he still thought the literal opposite. It’s just that once people get used to you doing all their emotional labor, they will continue to take advantage of it, even if they don’t realize its cost.

[jadoue1999]

Wanda and the life she deserved (she’ll make sure about it) Epilogue

Summary: thank you for everyone for reading this story! Remember to read the end notes for the surprise I was talking about!

Previous parts:  chapter 1,  chapter 2 , chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9, chapter 10, chapter 11, Epilogue

Chapter 12: Epilogue

And that was it. Everyone she cared about was gone. She stood in the foundation of her house; her grief so strong it made her numb. She pulled up the hood of her vest desperately wanting to be left alone. Monica soon joined her side.

“You did it,” she remarked, “you actually did it.”

Wanda didn’t answer, she just pressed her lips together and nodded in agreement. She had seen many movies and shows portraying people fixing their mistakes as a good thing, something that made them feel better. She couldn’t relate. She simply felt like disappearing into the unknown and never being seen again.

“You know, I don’t think I would have had the strength to do it, had it been me,” confessed Monica. “I would have done anything to get my mother back, I can only imagine what you’re going through.” The woman gently put her hand on Wanda’s shoulder, making sure to be slow enough so she wouldn’t intrude her personal space. When no protests came, she squeezed lightly. “I’m here for you if you need me.”

As they reached the town square, Wanda did her best to ignore the hateful glare of the citizens she had tortured over the last week. She wished she could tell them she didn’t know, but she was sure no apologies would be enough. Lost in her self-deprecating thoughts, she was surprised when Monica spoke once again. “So, who was the guy who played your brother? We never could identify him. Yet I can see that his family found him.”

Wanda didn’t answer as she looked up at the X-Men. Her brother was deep in conversation, probably telling them about his time in the town. She quickly changed outfits, feeling more comfortable in her newest costume. The Scarlet Witch, as Agatha called her; she liked the name. She was about to fly away when Peter suddenly appeared at her side.

“Wanda, don’t go.”

She froze in place; he didn’t seem mad at her, but she didn’t want to push her luck. Hatred came in many forms. Since she wasn’t talking, Monica spoke up.

“Hi again, I don’t know if you remember, we escaped the witch’s house together?”

Peter chuckled and nodded. “I do, that was wild.”

Wanda could feel Monica’s question, and the hesitation that came with it. “I know I’ve asked you before, but who are you?”

The silver haired man looked at the redhead, silently asking for permission. She couldn’t figure out why he’d even care about her opinion, but she nodded, nonetheless.

“I’m Peter Maximoff, I’m from a different universe.”

That certainly took the S.W.O.R.D. agent by surprise, she looked at both of them, wondering if it was a joke. She had many more questions, but she felt that the Maximoffs needed to talk. With a nod, she walked away to join an Asian man. Probably a friend of hers. That left Wanda and Peter alone, both wondering how to start the conversation.

“So,” started Peter, scratching the back of his neck. “Thanks for releasing me.”

Wanda scrunched her face in shame, why had she even thought it was a good idea? “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I just wanted my brother back and you already wanted to leave, and I just couldn’t-“

“Hey, it’s alright. I mean, obviously it wasn’t fun, but it wasn’t as bad as witchy over there,” he said, pointing at Agnes who was seemingly flirting with police officers. “You wanted me there, so I wasn’t really controlled, I was just sure I was Pietro Maximoff.”

Running a hand through her hair and taking a deep breath to shake away her teary eyes, she finally looked at him in the eyes. “So, you’re not... mad?”

Peter blinked and cleared his throat, “Well, obviously I’m not pleased, but I think I would have done the same thing, had I been given a chance to see Wendy again.”

They walked over to a secluded bench that somehow hadn’t been destroyed by the battle. Wanda kept fidgeting with her fingers, the occasional glares of people mixed with the grief and guilt she felt made an interesting combination of emotions. Peter pulled her into a hug, and she held on for dear life, not wanting to be alone again. “I like the outfit by the way,” whispered Peter in her ear. “Might not believe me but it’s very similar to my dad’s. Irony of the multiverse I guess.”

She couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her lips, he soon laughed too, and let go of her. He looked around the town, taking in the situation.

“You know, it might not have been real, but our little life was good,” commented Peter. He looked at his team, “I didn’t have any superhero duty to think about or daddy issues to deal with. It was simple.”

Wanda looked at him, not sure if he was being serious, when she realized he was, she simply nodded. “Yeah, that’s why I wanted this. I’ve never had a shot at a normal life, not since I was 10 years old.”

Peter smirked in agreement, looking a little lost in thought for a moment. “Yeah, I remember, your life wasn’t easy, uh?”

The redhead suddenly widened her eyes, realizing the weight of his statement, “oh, I’m so sorry, I can remove his memories from your head if you want.” She tried to put her hands on his temple, but he shook his head.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ve had enough people messing in my mind for a century. Plus, I’m not really sure where my memories end and his starts.”

Wanda was left feeling even more guilty, how did she even think that it was a good idea to keep him? She looked at the ground once again, why could she never do things right?

“So... where will you go?” Asked Peter. “Cause I know how this usually goes, you leave in a remote place, isolate yourself and either build a new life or you get even worse than what your current low point is.” Wanda looked at him, raising an eyebrow. He chuckled as he raised his hands in front of him, “hey, you might be from another universe, but my dad basically did the same thing.”

She thought about her options, she had considered isolating herself, she had Agatha’s book after all, she wanted to study it. Before Peter stopped her from leaving, she truly wanted to be left alone. Knowing he didn’t hate her changed things. She wanted him by her side, willingly this time. After a minute or two of waiting, he spoke up, scratching his nose anxiously. “You... you could come with us, if you want.”

She turned her head towards him, eyes wide at the proposition. He gently took her hand and got to his feet. “From what I gathered here; you’re sort of a wanted person? No one knows you in my universe. Plus, powers like yours aren’t unheard of, you’d fit right in!”

He didn’t let her respond as he dragged her to his team. Anxiety was building up in her stomach, how would they react? She had, after all, kidnapped one of their members, even if accidentally. After a quick discussion with the bald man, the professor as he called himself, it was settled that she’d leave with them. The two blue people were polite, but obviously still suspicious of her. Peter’s father was, well, pissed to say the least. He didn’t talk to her and barely acknowledged her when she told them she’d create a portal to get them in their universe. She wasn’t sure how she had already mastered universe hopping, but she assumed it had to do with the scarlet witch thing Agatha had mentioned. After saying goodbye to Monica, who seemed glad Wanda had found people like her, they were off. Portal jumping wasn’t a pleasant experience, but it didn’t feel as bad as the first time she experienced her brother’s superspeed. The first thing she noticed upon arrival was the giant mansion, followed by the dozens of children freely expressing their gift.

That nearly made her breakdown right there.

She adjusted quickly, even made friend with a girl possessing similar powers named Jean Grey. It took a while for Mystique and Nightcrawler to fully trust her, but they eventually did. Erik still blamed her, but he had stopped glaring at her every time she came into a room. She had also learned to astral project herself, giving her more time to study the spell book. It had given her insight she never thought existed.

She had grown closer with Peter, who had confessed one day that his birth name truly was Pietro. They had both lost a twin and while they were both aware that it wasn’t the same; dealing with it together had helped them. Also, being the only people who truly knew Vision and the twins, they felt it was only right to grieve them together as well. Both had had their moments where they tried to talk to them, waiting for an answer, only to realize that they were speaking to shadows. It hadn’t really gotten better; Peter missed his nephews and Wanda missed her family.

Sometimes, when the mansion became too much, she preferred to keep herself in her room. In those time, she usually used it to study the Darkhold and it’s secret. That’s what she was doing, in the middle of the night, when voices pierced her concentration.

“Mom!” Screamed Billy. She gasped as she heard her son in her head. It was Tommy’s voice who followed, “mom, help us!”

Her eyes widened in shock. Her children were alive, they were somewhere. She snapped out of her trance, her mind returning to her body that was laying in her bed. She ran out of her room to join Peter who was listening to music on his Walkman. He looked at her, questions in his eyes, she smiled at him.

“Tommy and Billy, I hear them.”

In a blur, he was in front of her, his hands on her shoulders, hope gleaming in his eyes. “Really?”

Wanda nodded, barely able to contain her excitement, “really.”

In less than five seconds, Peter had packed a bag and was holding it at his side. He offered his hand to Wanda, who gladly took it. He grinned, “let’s go get the rugrats.”

***

Notes: so it’s done! I hope you guys liked it!

As for the surprise, both my father and girlfriend wanted to know more about how the X-men got to Westview so I wrote another fic of their point of view! I’m nearly finished writing it, and it should be about 30k words. Each chapter being approximately 3k words. Now, question is, when and how often should I publish it? I had thought about publishing it every Sunday, unless there’s a day where it’s easier for you guys to read.

[definitely-not-karen]

My unnecessary and irrelevant reviews about the transformers media I have consumed.

Please let me have this. I was doom scrolling and transformers is my comfort fandom.

G1: I have not watched all of it, I do plan on doing so but I did watch it when I was younger and does invoke nostolgia. I watched it on Teletoon Retro (does that even exist anymore?) ((just googled it, rip teletoon retro)). For some reason I really like the episode The Ultimate Weapon. I am a huge fan of First Aid and it was because of this episode and I have no idea why. Rodimus is the main character of that episode with First Aid just having a very prominent role in the side story of that episode. I really liked the Aerialbots and their storyline with the time traveling and the not knowing if they’re on the right side was really cool. Honestly the animation errors and weird inconsistent story are part of the charm I guess.

RID 2001: another show I’ve only seen tidbits of. I watched this one via random episodes illegally uploaded to YouTube in the early to mid 2010s and now all those videos are taken down. As a lover of camp, this is camp. I love it. Transformers as a concept is pretty camp (which is why I adore it) and I definitely will watch all of this one day. Though Sideburn is cool and all, I do wish he didn’t chase a red sports car every episode. Otherwise he’s one of my favourites cause himbo rights I guess.

Transformers IDW 2005: So... I read the entirety of the idw comics purely because I found out Thundercracker was a screenplay writer and I wanted to read the entire story so I got the complete context of his development from scary fighter jet to an Oscar winner. I was not disappointed, I was met with queer and trans representation of all sorts, a diverse storyline with action filled parts, comedy elements, slice of life, political drama, adventure, horror, and the best road trip through space. Honestly I was not expecting transformers of all things to have queerness represented so casually and quite well in my opinion (though technically they are guilty of bury your gays, I don’t count it cause there was a clear reason for that death) Thundercracker was marked as one of my favourites cause of this series. I did experience a wonderful story because I wanted to see how he got his happy ending. My biggest criticism of idw transformers is that I love their interpretations of characters and sadly I know I’ll probably never get to seen them like that again. But if I want to experience those characters like that, I’ll just re read it I guess.

Transformers Animated: I have watched the entirety of this great show twice and it still love it. Funny characters, a human character that has a purpose, and a fun change to the formula, Transformers Animated has one of my favourite Optimus and made a Bumblebee so lovably loud they had to take away his voice so he wouldn’t become too powerful. Loved all of the characters except the human villains, Headmaster did not age well and I wasn’t in love with Ratchet’s design but his personality more than made up for it. If you want more animated, I love Transformers ReAnimated the void is filled by that series and channel. While I wish it got another season, it’s ending was satisfying enough I guess.

Transformers Prime: Smokescreen is great and was underutilizes -100/10. Just kidding, kind of I really enjoyed Prime. I’ve only watched through it completely once cause when I was a child I did not like the designs since apparently as a child I was a G1 loyalist I guess. Though now Prime has one of my favourite styles that still holds up today. Dramatic story with actual character development, I can over look that the plots a tad slow. I wish Breakdown was utilized more and it also could have benefited from an extra season but the movie wrapped it up much better than animated’s ending. Knockout is an amazing character and I was spoiled while I was watching it that he turns Autobot though I didn’t realize that wasn’t until the literal end of the series. Would’ve like a completely fleshed out Breakdown and Knockout or at least Knockout redemption arc but there’s always fanfiction I guess.

Robots in Disguise 2015: I didn’t hate it? It definitely helped that I watched this before Prime for some reason. I liked the designs, Sideswipe... himbo rights. Biggest flaw is the lack of character growth. I just want nice things for Sideswipe, Strongarm and Fixit. Grimlock was fun, I like Bumblebee trying to be a good leader and Optimus should have stayed dead. The crossover and referenced to Rescue Bots was fun and Blurr and Sideswipe was the rivalry I didn’t know I needed. But the one I really needed was Smokescreen in there too. The ending arc was interesting though not executed the best and Steeljaw did a lot of the heavy lifting for the villain side to a point where they over utilized him and his character suffered as a result. Windblade was not as bad as people online said she was, splitting the group up into two was stupid cause I’m bitter and still don’t want Optimus there. Also long list of underutilization: Denny and Russel Clay, Jazz, all the characters from prime except Optimus and Bee, Jetfire and Jetstorm, More Rescue bots, and many more! Like that girl that’s Russel’s friend that I literally don’t remember because I’m pretty sure the writers forgot about her! Anyways, in retrospect the show probably wasn’t great but I liked it I guess.

Rescue Bots: This show is way better than it needed to be. I actually love the no Decelticons and war. I’m a sucker for slice of life and especially slice of life with a twist. Human villains that were actually interesting, actual character development, continuity (somewhat), great human characters all while being target for children. I’m so happy I watched this show while I was kind of the target age and rewatching it for the third time was great cause some of the science jargon actually made sense to me. Satisfying ending too and honestly it can just appeal to everyone. Love all four of the main rescue bots and constantly wish they made evergreen designs and toys for them so they could at least make cameos in other transformers media. Sometimes it’s nice to have transformers being wholesome I guess.

Rescue Bots Academy: ... I was not the age democratic for this show and I somehow still liked it? Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been gravitating to more wholesome content due to current events but it was actually good? Love all the students, I do miss the old crew and characters like Doc Green and Frankie are under utilized and the Burns family is almost nowhere to be found :(. Once again there’s some actual character development and Hot Shot’s mentor relationship with Heatwave is super sweet. Also actually having positive post war Decepticon and Autobot relationships in this children’s show? Woah. Biggest issue is like RID 2015; the lack of continuity and characters completely disappearing. Perceptor was fun and I was not expecting him to appear. And I love me some microscope dude. It was a good send off for the aligned continuity I guess.

Cyberverse: ending too soon. I was about to be upset that bumblebee didn’t have his voice but he had his voice in his head which was great. Episodes like the velocitron one was really good and it definitely got better with each season and peaked in the Quintesson arc and then rolled to the cancellation date. Thundercracker shouldn’t have been killed off but I’m very biased. Seeing the rebuilding of Cybertron was cool. Windblade and Bumblebee had a fun relationship. I really liked this iteration of Grimlock. Perceptor was super interesting but then they did nothing with him after the Quintesson arc which was a shame and I would have liked to see better relationships between the Autobots and Decepticons after the team up. Also wholesome Whirl was fun. Honestly this needed one more season so bad. I just think it could have been great if it got one. But it’s still good I guess.

War for Cybertron: ...let’s see how I feel after Kingdom comes out but right now, meh. For me my favourite transformers characters usually end up being side characters due to me wishing they had more screen time so in this case, Red Alert is great please show me more of Red Alert. I get what all the people are saying about the voice acting and whatever but I can look past it (though please give us Peter Cullen or let the current VC make his own Optimus voice). But one thing is that all the YouTube reviewers be saying that I completely agree with is that it’s dark. Like lighting wise. I occasionally had trouble making out what was happening because it was dark. Honestly my biggest issue isn’t a fault of the show. I like development of multiple characters to be shown so I can fall in love with a multitude of characters but due to short seasons, it makes sense to focus in completely on one character at a time. Siege in my opinion at least let me see more of the background characters rather than Earthrise but I’d probably like Earthwise more if I was a bigger fan of Optimus. I’m going to watch Kingdom but I’m not expecting to be wowed I guess.

In conclusion, I should watch Beast Wars, I’m going to re read the ending of Lost Light again and revel in the melancholic ending I adore and I really like Thundercracker and First Aid. One great thing about transformers and other franchises that have been around for awhile, if you don’t like the current thing, there’s plenty of last media and you probably won’t need to wait too long for the next piece of media you’ll hopefully like.

Please be good idw 2019, I’ve read a bit of you and I have a scrap of hope. Oh please please please be good. Give some characters the Thundercracker treatment.

[flowesona]

The Hanged Man - Yandere! Jimin x reader

The Tarot Series

Warning: Explicit / Sexual content, Drug/Alcohol use

There was one thing (Y/N) swore to herself when she found out she was going to be roommates with Park Jimin. She could not develop feelings for him, in any way shape or form. He was a manwhore, to say the least. No girl had ever lasted more than a few months of dating him before having a breakdown. He was simply an insatiable being, always reaching for more.

However, she was pleasantly surprised when she first met him. He was well mannered, clean, humble. The exact opposite of how his rumours described him. It was plain to see he was trying to be a better person. He’d even cut back on his whorish ways, as (Y/N) had never seen him bring a girl back whilst she was around even if she heard some late night groans from his room. They’d developed a close relationship over their time together, forming a small friendship-like bond.

“(Y/N), would you be interested in coming to a party with me?” He asked, checking his hair in his mirror reflection.

“When is it? And who’s going to be there?” She asked, not looking up from her cake batter.

“Tonight, and it’s hosted by the chemistry society. You know their parties are always the wildest?” Jimin grinned at her eagerly.

“I don’t know… it’s dangerous and I want to finish my essay for Friday…” (Y/N) mumbled, still focusing on her cake. She knew what he would do.

As expected, he stood up, walked over to her and tilted her chin up so he could give her his best puppy-dog eyes.

“Please? You can just stay with me all night! And we can leave by midnight so you can finish your essay?” Jimin pleaded, and when he whined in such a way it was hard for anyone to turn him down, let alone (Y/N).

 *.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*

By 10PM, the party was in full swing. (Y/N) had lost track of Jimin, and was ready to leave, when she felt a hand on her waist. She was about to scream at the person when she recognised it was Jimin, looking slightly concerned.

“Sorry that I was gone. No one tried anything funny, right?” He asked, offering her an unopened bottle of Budwesier. She shook her head at his offering having already reached her limit, but didn’t protest as he began to lead her away from the crowds and into someone’s bedroom.

“Jimin, is something wrong? You seem different.” (Y/N) asked. There was something uncharacteristic about him, much more lustful and forward than his usual polite demeanour, possibly due to drugs and alcohol that were in high demand.

“(Y/N), I want you.” The boy pulled her down onto the bed, his hands on his belt as he waited for her consent. Even if his words were slightly slurred, he was completely aware of every single thing he said and the reactions they evoked in (Y/N).

“No strings attached, right? I don’t want this to make things awkward.” Jimin barely gave her a nod as he started to undress, already in his boxers before (Y/N) had even taken off her shirt. She didn’t have to bother with that, and he simply pulled her onto his lap, fingers unhooking her jeans and panties as he pressed kisses to her skin.

“J-just get it over with, J-Jimin-ah!” (Y/N) moaned, gripping onto his shoulder. In a flash he was on top of her, removing his boxers before giving her one last look before he thrust in.

“You’re so gorgeous, fuck!” Jimin panted, sweat dripping down the side of his head. “I l-love you.”

The girl underneath him was just as breathless, only being able to moan in ecstasy as she reached up her hands to run them through his hair. The noises were barely audible to the people outside this room with the beats of heavy music drowning out all evidence of their mischievous fling.

The young man collapsed next to (Y/N) once they’d finished, still breathing heavily. He looked over to see her beautiful face but she was already sitting up and pulling her undergarments back on, not sparing him a second glance.

“W-where are you going?” He asked breathily, reaching out to grasp her arm.

“We said no strings, didn’t we?” She said coldly, shaking him off and snatching up her bag. Jimin nodded but felt regret replacing the high he’d just come off. This wasn’t how things were meant to go. He’d had their perfect night of passion planned out from the moment he laid eyes on her: he was meant to take her out on a date to the movies and kiss her in the dark of the theatre. They would return to their dorm and he’d fuck her just like he did without the promise of ‘no strings attached’ because he needed her to stay with him more than anything else.

 *.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*

However the next day, when Jimin woke up back in his dorm, (Y/N) was nowhere to be seen. She didn’t pick up any of his calls, nor reply to his texts. Even when she did return to their accommodation, she didn’t bother talking to him, going straight to her room and locking the door whilst ignoring all his attempts to talk to her.

Obviously, he’d messed up somewhere along the way. Maybe (Y/N) was freaked out by his in-the-moment confession, maybe he didn’t live up to his legacy as a sex god, or maybe somewhere down the line he hadn’t been perfect enough for her. With a bitter taste in his mouth Jimin decided to give it a break, to move on from the girl who was pretending he didn’t exist.

Yet no matter how hard he tried, Jimin couldn’t get (Y/N) off his mind. Every girl that he hooked up with at these frat parties paled in comparison to her. They all seemed willing to fall for him, so why couldn’t (Y/N) look past his reputation and see how he’d changed just for the sake of her love?

One day he found himself unable to stay away, deciding to go out and buy a bunch of beautiful pink peonies. He would win her back by declaring his undying affection in a way she could not refuse. 

The second she opened the door when she returned home, he gave her his brightest smile, pushing the peonies towards her as he recited the poetic speech he’d composed of his love for her. (Y/N) was not impressed, shoving the flowers back to his chest.

“My boyfriend is here, what the hell are you doing?” She hissed, as a taller man carrying several bags of groceries stood behind her awkwardly. Jimin hadn’t even noticed the stranger’s presence during his confession, and now knowing that he’d stolen the status of (Y/N)’s boyfriend he felt nothing but spite towards the friendly-looking man.

As (Y/N) brushed past Jimin, the man had the nerve to give Jimin a patronising pat on the shoulder as he trailed after her, and Jimin had never wanted to beat someone to a pulp as much as he did in that moment.

His blood was boiling, his face flushed from humiliation and the peonies were now discarded on the floor. If (Y/N) knew anything, it was how to rip his heart from his chest and crush it beneath her boots. And he just let her.

His mind was screaming at him to throw in the towel, but something was still stirring inside of him. Hope, desire for (Y/N) still lingered within him, the hope that perhaps he could still be there for her.

He picked up the trampled flowers and smoothed out the petals, searching for a jar to put them in. He wouldn’t give up on her just yet.

 *.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*

Jimin was in his room, studying, when there was a knock on the door. He didn’t even give permission for the person to enter when he burst through the door.

(Y/N)’s boyfriend. A lanky, good for nothing boy with an uninteresting face and even more monotone voice, as if his only purpose was to put everyone in his presence to sleep. Perhaps it was just Jimin’s bitterness, but he could not understand how (Y/N) could fall for such a dull boy, when Jimin was available and in love with her.

“What are you doing?” Jimin said, not moving to accommodate his guest at all.

“You think, just because you fucked my girlfriend a few months ago, you’re entitled to spend every second talking to her?” The young man’s voice was thundering from the get-go. “I’ve seen everything you send her, you creep. Learn what no means, you privileged prick.”

“Why were you looking through her phone? Have some respect for (Y/N), she’s a nice girl.” Jimin pointed out, ready to fight.

“Listen here you little shit.” The situation dramatically escalated as Mingi brought a knife out of his pocket.

“Woah, calm down!” Jimin protested, subtly raising his voice so that (Y/N) could hear the commotion. He’d been waiting for an opportunity like this, whittling down Mingi’s ego through talking with (Y/N) until he was ready to snap.

“Don’t you fucking tell me to calm down.” The taller man snarled, grabbing a fistful of Jimin’s white shirt and holding the knife to his throat. 

“Please, let me go!” Jimin mustered up his best tears, right as (Y/N) opened the door to find the scene. Her boyfriend holding her roommate by the neck as if he was about to kill him.

“Mingi, get out before I phone the cops.” (Y/N) said firmly. 

“Look, babe, it’s not what it looks like. We need to talk this out-”

“It looks like you’re about to kill Jimin. Get the fuck out, you psycho.” Jimin conjured up a sniffle, warranting (Y/N)’s eyes to focus on him, rushing over to give him a soothing hug.

As Mingi gave Jimin a look of what could only be described as unadulterated rage, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

“I swear, I didn’t know he was like this. Jimin, I’m so sorry.” (Y/N) said softly, her hands warm and relaxing on his back.

“I-I’m sorry, for everything I-I’ve done.” Jimin gave a few fake sobs, just to add to his facade as (Y/N) cooed and comforted him.

“You don’t need to apologise, he was an ass.” 

“B-but I read everything wrong, I thought you wanted me and accepted my feelings and then you grew so cold and I-” Jimin started, hiccuping occasionally.

“Jimin, I’m sorry for how I treated you. I overreacted, and you didn’t deserve that.” (Y/N) comforted him, running a hand through his hair and not even shrinking away as he leaned into her touch like an attentioned-starved puppy.

“Can we-” 

“Of course. I’m sorry anyone ever got between us.” 

Even if she didn’t know it, Jimin was wrapped around her finger, ready to be whoever she would love. The gentleman, the sleaze, the victim. (Y/N) would love him, and that was all he could need.

[unpopularfanopinion]

I apparently struck a nerve with someone and they blocked me. Just a tip dude, if you don’t like people arguing with you maybe you shouldn’t post on social media designed for reblogging, responses and rebuttles. You can still find websites that offer blogs with no comments.

But as I typed this all up i felt it worth sharing.

Pointing out similarities in ideas and actions between two group doesn’t mean I think one is equivalent to another. It means in some ways they are coming from the same place(doesn’t mean they’re going to end up in the same place) But I see you’re very good at putting words in other people’s mouths.

However you may think there’s a difference between a religious group attempting to ban a book over religious ideals, and people trying to force Ao3 to moderate to their standards, but I am going to ask what the difference is?

Also who is going to get to decide what counts as harmful/racist? I mean I get the feeling you’re something of a new-comer to this whole anti-shipping trend and aren’t aware of some of the context in history behind it.

Like the insanity of the Sherlock fandom where a contingent of people who really really preferred John topping Sherlock in their porn decided to accuse anyone writing Sherlock topping John as being pedophiles. (Surely you can understand the insanity behind that. porn written of two middle age men being pedophilia because the wrong man tops) To the point of accusing a surivor of being an abuser, as well as filming her having a breakdown(that they caused) and posting it online. https://fanlore.org/wiki/221B_Con (the 2015 con)

https://thegreenirene.tumblr.com/post/116696525144/what-happened-at-221b-con-2015-the-gender

There’s also the story that went around of a real life highschooler that was convince he had to break up with his significant other of several years because he had turned 18, but his partner hadn’t yet because him simply dating(not necessarily having sex with them) someone under 18 was pedophilia. (okay yikes)

And what about when you have people who claim that individual ships are inherently racist if you prefer them over a different ship. One example is from the Star Wars sequel trilogy where people tried to claim the Finnrose ship was inherently anti-black and racist and so people should ship Finnrey.

https://my-reylo.home.blog/tag/anti-finnrose-bs/ (rundown, with links and receipts although sadly some of the links no longer work)

So again who will get to decide? And before you say, the minors, survivors, and minorities who don’t feel safe you should try to understand that’s not a winning trump card. Because there are ALSO minors, minorities, and survivors(like me) who keep saying that they don’t feel safe in places where censorship takes place. That they find exploring the exact same topics that antis decry as harmful, helpful and therapeutic. That they don’t feel safe in places where they risk harassment, doxing, suicide baiting simply because of the fiction they like, or create.

I mean there’s an disabled artist who lost her job because of anti harassment.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1XdfUJyVYhmaahTfbxLNU0W0yVz80hmptNrCQv7KSL6o/mobilebasic

An individual is not harmed merely by some piece of fiction existing out in the void. If they stumble on it without warning it can be upsetting, trigger pain, but that means them stumbling on it. Ao3′s tagging system does an excellent job at allowing people to not see what they don’t want to. There are a few tweaks and adjustment I wouldn’t mind seeing like a permanent exclude tags so I don’t have to constantly filter out specific tags.

I doubt that there is anything you can find on Ao3 that you would not also find examples of in any large public library

Take a brief look at New York’s Public Library eroticia for example

https://nypl.overdrive.com/search?subject=21

In the comics and graphic books section i found Sadistic Boy by tori maia, which contains examples of underage sex, adult/minor sex, rape, and incest(uncle/nephew iirc). As well as Bad teacher’s Equation which features a romantic relationship between a 16 year old highschool student and a 26 year old nurse who works at the school. Again this is the New York Public library, and I haven’t started looking at more of the books(although without Ao3′s tagging system it’s a bit harder to guess the contents with just the cover)

Is there any real reason you can think of why Ao3 should be held to higher content standards than the New York Public Library? I mean they’re both based in New York State, and go by New York State’s obscenities laws.

And I’m sorry for not including sources in my earlier posts, but I was on mobile and didn’t have all of my links.

But here’s a study discussing the sex on TV doesn’t influence teens as much as people previously thought

https://theconversation.com/sex-on-tv-less-impact-on-teens-than-you-might-think-61957

Also the relationship between fiction and reality, and the ability of various media to change and shape social norms is incredibly complex. Research attempts to discover how media can influence change, but that there’s both individual effects, social effects, and the effect can be different depending on if a person knows other people in their community have seen/heard the piece of media or not.

https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/political-science-research-and-methods/article/how-does-media-influence-social-norms-experimental-evidence-on-the-role-of-common-knowledge/23D65E06CAB2876B08F12E23CD5C0539

So keeping that in mind that fanfiction is still very much a niche hobby/activity and you’re unlikely going to find an entire community(of people who happen to be living in the same area definition) reading the same fic, Fanfiction’s ability to impact reality is pretty much non-existent compared to the latest offering from Disney, Warner Brother’s or Netflix.

I can have empathy for people who are uncomfortable or feel they are hurt when they see certain topics in fiction. However I wish they would try to have a little empathy for the people who find comfort and healing within that same topic. The solution is not censorship or people stop creating taboo fiction. The solution is right there in Ao3′s tagging, people who don’t want to see certain content can avoid it, people who do want to see certain content can find it. I’m sorry but I cam going to have a hard time finding sympathy for people who demand that everyone else cater to them and their feelings without a thought for anyone else's.

[archivedatl]

Old Blogs

Howdy. I’ve noticed some concern over the loss of my old blogs here n’ there so I decided to post all of them in one large, comprehensive blog-a-verse. Hope this brings a smile to a few faces. Our Street Corners Keep Secrets This is me asking for a brick to be thrown through my window,
a message attached that reads, "Why can’t you just wake up?"
I am not a star,
don’t look up to me in hopes of finding something more.
That which is out of reach does not promise anyone a goddamn thing.
Hope arises in possibility,
but possiblity is fragmented and selfish,
so don’t think for a second that I am safe ground to walk on.
I will sink beneath the feet of a thousand travelling companions,
and make ruin of any city’s foundations,
because concrete and steel can never tell a soul how it feels.
Our street corners keep secrets, and our road signs only suggest,
never deciding for us,
never knowing if the destination to which they lead,
is where we truely belong.
Life’s greatest tragedy is not that it will some day end,
but that most of us just live to follow directions,
and many times we end up totally lost. I am a landmine. Sometimes I break down so hard you can hear it, and when I can stand to come near it with means to repair, the chances of walking out unscathed are slim to none.
I know because I’m one; a victim of second-hand breakdowns and bad impressions, made under intoxicated conditions with poorly lit expressions. And I regret not going back, I regret not missing flights, I regret not asking for more and taking chances that I can only hope will not be forgotten. My fingers are crossed.

I-O-U.

Now my telephone’s dead and I can’t stand to hold out like this, but I’m constantly checking myself so as not to be a burden. Anything too heavy eventually gets dropped, no matter the cost. Let me be light as a feather, but valued enough so as to remain in a back pocket, until those jeans need washing and I find my place on a bedside table, to be read aloud on nights when memories and prying needs return to haunt the foundations of this room.

Pick me up,
Read me every now and then,
I won’t disappoint.
*I am* witty and engaging so bless me with attention, because I’m *dying* for attention *without* any means of telling *you*. I’ll talk the talk, you take care of the rest. What up thugs?

I’m alive and well, realizing how eternally grateful I am for everything going on in my life day by day... Its a lot like learning to walk - at least, that’s how I’d like to think of it. We’ve all been there, so I won’t waste your time painting a pretty picture of how it all goes down...
I want to talk about other things...
First and foremost, I’ve come to understand that as of late there have been a lot of people finding this little piece of my life tucked away on the web; moreso than usual, and for that reason, I’d like to extend my proverbial hand to anyone and everyone who may have something - anything to say to me. Thank you for taking an interest in who I am and what I’m attempting to do with my life. I am opening myself up, as much as possible, to anyone who may be interested. All I ask is that whoever you may be, wherever you may be, understand that I am only human - two hands, ten fingers, and a life... I’ve received a few messages from people, upset that I haven’t been able to respond to their previous comments or private messages, and who now probably think less of me for it. I hope this isn’t the case, but its bound to happen. What I’m saying is that I don’t live my life on the internet... I’m sorry if there’s a message I never got around to responding to... I’m just not that good at keeping up with reality, let alone a virtual one. I will, however, try harder from now on... And understand that even if I don’t respond, I probably have read your message. I don’t just clear my inbox and move on. Thats plain rude. :)

To all my good friends,
the ones I should talk to more often,
the ones I left back home,
the ones I will never stop loving,
thank you for still hugging me when I come home...
I know I don’t always show it,
but I’m forever indebted to you all for everything you’ve ever done for me...

That brings me to my second point.
The closest friends you’ll ever have are the ones you’d take a bullet for,
but they’re the ones you constantly feel you could put a bullet in as well. ;)

Think about that one.

That’s it for now. I can’t believe I’m up at 5:14am. Touring has made me an insomniac, but I feel fucking great.

Have a good one y’all,

Me Lawyers and Liars I am a liar.
I am self absorbed.
I am in this for me.
I am seeking recognition.
I am not concerned with politics.
I am attempting to rise to the top.
I am never going to forget my intentions.
I am allowed to worry about my own life above the lives of others.

-------AFTER ALL---------

I am human. Part Deux: Colors, Sounds and Feather-Downs 
Current mood: happy I had a long, goofy conversation several weeks ago with an interesting girl who I haven’t seen since, in a diner I have yet to revisit, but it stirred up some thoughts that I found pretty interesting. Maybe I’m just nuts. Anyhow, the discussion began on a simple basis; I inquired as to what her favorite color might be. She said she didn’t know. I replied, "How can you not know? Its a simple question." -- She paused, looking sort of surprised, as if someone had never pressed her for an answer before, and then replied, "Well... It changes... Today its yellow."

I didn’t know what to say...
I didn’t understand.

How can your favorite color just change?
What happened to yesterday’s favorite color?
If, on a whim, something of such esteem and value can be replaced with another, then on what grounds was it ever of any more value to begin with?
When I was little, my favorite color was green. It stayed that way, no matter what I said to be trendy at the time (IE. 8th grade was my "black is such a raw and expressive pigment" phase, but everyone goes through that shit.) As of late, I’ve become more partial to blue - Light blue in particular, but that’s not that important. My point is that something happened that caused me to send green packing, and to fall absolutely head-over-heels for blue.
(Stay with me on this...)
Now, such a dramatic change in attraction doesn’t just happen - I mean shit, I know we’re only talking about colors here, but this kind of switch-a-roo has only happened ONCE in my entire life. Green ---> Blue. Just like that. Must mean somthing, right?
Pablo Picasso went through a "blue period", at which time he was broke and mourning the loss of a dear friend. There’s a similarity there somewhere.
Please don’t get me wrong, I am by no means depressed, nor do I have any reason to be, but perhaps color - every, individual hue, represents to each of us a state of being, and in turn, helps us to deal with whatever it is we may be going through. I’m not talking mood-ring shit here. What I mean is that there are things - simple things - that without our knowing, mean the world to us and when they change, they change for our own good, because whether we like it or not, we are looking out for ourselves. We do it unconsciously - But we do it. We do it to stay happy and to stay alive... And above all else, that’s what matters.
On this note, I’d like to attempt to make my point - Don’t throw yourself out on another’s whim. People change, as do intentions and as a result, consequences. Live for yourself - love those around you, but realize that they’ve got their own agendas. People will screw you - You will screw people... Green ---> Blue. Get it? I’m not sure I do... Always consider that your life will venture in new directions, but be aware that other’s will do the same, and in accordance, understand that to be happy, people must exist in their own light, cast in and of themselves, not by the light of their peers. Conflict will arise because of this. Conflict is to be expected; conflict is a part of life. Find ways to work through conflict, even if it means picking a new favorite color...


I hope this makes a little sense.


I’m tired and rambling, and perhaps just a misguided fool, but I think there’s something in this - something that I am learning and accepting as my fingers punch these keys to an inviting, hypnotic rhythm. I feel like they’re leading me somewhere, and I’ve decided to follow.

____I’m going to bed. Take from this what you will.

Love,

Alexander William Gaskarth

*I feel fine* The first of many, I hope. 
Current mood: happy So I’ve decided to spill it; the beans, the juice, my guts... Whatever you want to call it, consider it spilled. Up to this point, I feel like I’ve done an excellent job of keeping just about everything true about myself, to myself... and for good reason - what people don’t know, people can’t use against you. I guess that’s my first confession. I fucking despise the way people operate. The way people go out of their way to find things out, only to throw them senselessly (BLINDLY) into conversation later. I don’t know if its intentional, (I guess that sometimes it is and sometimes it isn’t,) but frankly, it gets to me. Its the same kind of prying aggravation I feel when someone starts moving shit around in my car, or on my computer table. Stop putting hills in my rugs! Please. Call me OCD but if I put something somewhere, chances are, I wanted it there and it should remain that way. Its the same for anyone else. Let one’s own business remain that way. Anyway. I’ve fallen into a depression lately - not emotionally per say, but I feel like my ability to open up to people has peaked over the past two years. I used to be so ready to say anything, without caring how it affected me, but recently I’ve become so protective of myself, not because I’m afraid of getting hurt by others, but because I might make myself look bad. It’s disgusting. I never used to be so self-absorbed. Its like in every situation, I’m wearing a mask... Not just one mask, in fact, but many masks; Masks to hide masks between people - to hide certain sides of myself from those who disapprove where others don’t. I try so hard to win the approval of everyone. Why? Fucked if I know. I just love being the center of attention I guess. And all this time I thought myself to be humble. No sir. But then, who really is humble? Everyone wants to be loved, right? So am I wrong in looking out for my own well being? Who knows? It makes me sick to my stomach, regardless. I’ve unknowingly stumbled across so many insecurities lately that I feel like a different person at times. It’s like I’ve been born all over again, to a world where I have to carry myself differently. I’m still opinionated, I’m still eagerly in search of answers, but my motives have changed. I do it for myself now; for the praise and admiration I earn as a result of my actions, not for the simple pleasure found in just "doing it". Maybe its all just part of growing up, as they say. Maturing... You know? But does it continue to change? Will I stop acting like such an asshole? Who knows. It worries me. I don’t want to be like this, but its who I’ve become... What’s worse is that I don’t know who or what to blame for the transformation. That would be too easy, right? I digress. I’ve got a lot of things on my plate. My dreams are coming true right before my very eyes - I have a band - We’re going somewhere - This time next year I hope I’m far, far away from this place. I want to see Japan. I’ve wanted to see Japan for a while now; call it a calling. Haha. I don’t know what I want when I get there - I don’t even like the hustle of big cities for too long. Gives me a headache. But there’s something about it. I’ll see it soon enough. The repetition of every day life kills. It ruins the flow of my creative juices. No joke. On days that I sleep in, I go to bed feeling exhausted, and yet, I never sleep on the weekends, when I should want rest. I don’t. It would be a waste of freedom. Why spend time on parole in seclusion, you know? I’m only tired on weekdays - only when I know I have to drag myself out of my fucking room to take a shower and go to school, and then to work. Maybe I’m not tired. Maybe it’s just a natural defense against running myself into the ground with routine. I feel pale, and sick, and run down... For no reason. I eat right. I see the light of day. I breathe fresh air all the time. I love the outdoors. Shit. I love my life. But between Monday and Thursday I feel so transient... My head isn’t in the clouds - My feet aren’t on the ground. Where am I? I don’t know, but frankly, it sucks. I have some good friends. We get hammered sometimes and forget about everything. The occasional dramatic scene is worth it. People naturally don’t get along with one another. It’s all a matter of how tolerant people are. I have some tolerant friends. In turn, I think I put up with my share of bullshit. It’s like a cycle of tough loving. But it works. It keeps me sane. In the end I think we really do love each other. Awww. I also like to kiss people. It gets me into trouble sometimes. Whatever. Certain individuals need to stop looking for love in the wrong places. --I can’t talk. --I’ve found love in the worst places. --Its not an easy thing to deal with. --Doesn’t change the way I feel about them. --Its ok. --As long as I’m happy. There I go being selfish again. ___I’m done confessing for now. Take from this what you will. Love, Alexander William Gaskarth *I feel better.*

[darriness]

Klaine Fic - You’ll Always Be The Home - Chapter 4

Author: darriness

Fic Summary: Everything is finally settled in Kurt and Blaine’s life…right?

Link to: Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Rating: T

Chapter Word Count: 2115

Chapter Summary: A meeting

Author’s Note: Thanks to my beta @darrenismydarcy

AO3 Link

“Blaine!” Kurt calls as he follows his husband out of the church and down the steps to the street. Blaine isn’t running but he’s speed walking with a hand over his mouth and looks like he might vomit. Kurt is vaguely aware of Bethany following him down the stairs but his eyes and attention are on Blaine.

“Blaine!” He tries again when he’s reached the sidewalk. Blaine is about a half a block away, “Blaine, stop! Please!”

Blaine does stop then, causing a woman walking in the other direction to have to quickly dodge past him with a glare and curse. Blaine turns to Kurt with wide eyes and his hand still over his mouth. Kurt approaches him slowly with his hands outstretched like you might a wild animal you don’t want to provoke. Kurt’s never seen this look in his husband’s eyes and he’s not quite sure how to handle it.

“It doesn’t mean…” Kurt starts but Blaine cuts him off with a harsh laugh as he removes his hand from his mouth sharply.

“Everyone else is dead, Kurt.” Blaine says, “The only other way for that kid to look like that is if I somehow got some girl pregnant eight years ago and by that point I had given up sleeping with women so...” Blaine rolls his eyes sarcastically.

Kurt breathes in deeply and tries to stay calm. Biting back at Blaine would not accomplish anything, “What do you want to do?” He asks.

Blaine puts a hand to his mouth and rubs harshly as he looks down the street and shakes his head. Kurt’s heart aches for the lost look in his eyes. He doesn’t know how to fix this. He doesn’t know what to do.

Finally, after a long silence which wasn’t really silent considering they are standing on a busy New York City street, Blaine finally looks back at Kurt, “I want to buy a unicorn.” He says, looking over at Bethany.

Kurt looks at Bethany to find the girl staring incredulously at Blaine, like maybe her brother had gone insane. Kurt’s not entirely sure that hasn’t happened.

“What…?” She asks.

Blaine nods, “You said you wanted to do something extremely gay after the funeral. I think we can all agree that our time at that funeral has come to an end, so let’s do it. Let’s do something really gay. Let’s buy a unicorn.”

Bethany and Kurt look at each other for a moment. Kurt thinks they are both thinking the same thing: that Blaine is a stiff push away from losing it completely and neither wants to see that happen. Kurt thinks that the middle of the street is not the best place for Blaine to have whatever breakdown he might be having so he decides quickly with a nod to just go with it.

“Okay.” Kurt says, “Let’s go buy a unicorn.”

-- -- --

As it turns out ‘buying a unicorn’ means taking an almost magical mystery tour around New York City until landing in a spot called Dinosaur Hill and purchasing perhaps the largest unicorn stuffed animal known to man. It’s so large that it takes up an entire seat on the subway as Bethany puts her arm around it and cuddles it. Luckily, the subway isn’t overly busy at this time of day or transporting such a feat of sewing engineering home might have been a challenge.

When all four of them (Blaine, Kurt, Bethany, and Eugene the Unicorn, as Bethany has named him) enter the apartment, Bethany curls up on the couch with Eugene beside her. Blaine takes a seat in the armchair and Kurt perches himself on one arm of the chair Blaine sits in. 

They are silent, each lost in their own thoughts, like they had been for most of the search for Eugene the Unicorn. Eventually, Bethany coughs, drawing the attention of the two men.

“So uhhhh, are we going to address the white unicorn in the room?” She asks.

Kurt sighs and looks over at Blaine who is chewing his lip. Kurt wishes he knew what Blaine was thinking, but finding out you have a brother you never knew about from the parents who abandoned you at the funeral for the mother who abandoned you isn’t something Kurt could imagine in his wildest dreams. He has no idea how he would feel after finding out such information.

“We don’t know for sure he’s who we think he is.” Blaine finally whispers, in direct contradiction to his words on the street earlier.

Bethany’s eyes widen, “I’ve seen pictures of you at eight, Blaine. That kid is your clone. Like you said, what other option is there?”

Blaine sits straight in the chair and begins to lean forward while pointing. Kurt reaches for Blaine’s hand and brings it into his lap, which effectively ends whatever comeback Blaine was going to give, “Look, I think we all know who that little boy is.” He says softly, “That’s not what I think we should be talking about.”

Blaine slumps in his chair and nods after a moment, seemingly resigned to the fact. Kurt watches Blaine’s face before looking over at Bethany who is doing the same thing. Kurt has a feeling that whatever they need to talk about, it has very little to do with Bethany and her feelings.

He truly believes what he told Blaine in the shower the night after they told Bethany about their mother’s passing. Bethany’s connection to that part of her life isn’t all that strong, potentially almost non-existent, because Blaine allowed her that. He gave her a parental figure. He gave her the stability, and nurturing, and love that their biological parents either couldn’t or wouldn’t give.

And it’s this influence over his little sister that Kurt is sure why she says what she does next. Bethany nods her head with a determined expression and looks between Kurt and Blaine, “We should take him.”

Kurt lets out a surprised laugh as Blaine’s eyes widen next to him.

“What - you want to kidnap him?” Kurt asks.

Bethany shrugs, “Considering who our father is, I’m sure this kid would come willingly.” Kurt lifts his eyebrows in silent agreement before Bethany shakes her head and looks back at Blaine, “He’s going to need our help.”

Blaine’s eyes widen again and his mouth opens and closes a few times. Kurt watches a lot of thoughts pass behind his husband’s eyes, but Kurt can’t really guess at any of them. He knows his personal thoughts on Bethany’s suggestion but this isn’t really about him right now. And by Blaine’s reaction, Kurt’s personal thoughts are way off. Blaine seems to be at war with his thoughts.

Blaine’s mouth opens again, as if ready to say something, but is interrupted by a knock on the door. All three occupants of the apartment turn toward the door in unison. Knocks are not an uncommon occurrence, but for some reason all three of them seem to regard the action as alien. What is that noise and what should they do about it?

Kurt shakes himself from his confusion first and gets up to answer the second knock. He pulls the door open with a polite smile before his face crumbles in confusion when he’s not met at eye level by another person. A cleared throat brings Kurt’s eyes down a couple of feet and his eyes land on an eight-year-old Blaine.

The same little boy from the church is standing on their doorstep. He looks dapper in his blue suit, purple checkered shirt and deep blue bowtie with brown dress shoes, but it’s also his expression that gives off an air of dapperness. Of superiority. Of...judgement.

Kurt feels judged by this eight-year-old in a very eight-year-old Kurt Hummel sort of way. Kurt would have served that face at eight. He has a sudden twilight zone moment in his head. This kid looks like Blaine but acts like Kurt. Is he somehow their time travelled biologically impossible child?!

Kurt shakes his head to clear himself of the thought as he and mini-Blaine continue to stare at each other. Eventually, the boy clears his throat again and quirks an eyebrow, “Are you going to invite me in?”

And suddenly this little boy is Blaine’s dad. Kurt may have only met him once, but there is no mistaking who raised this little person. Speaking of the elder Anderson...Kurt’s eyes shift up and down the hall outside the apartment for any sign of Marcus Anderson. There is none.

Kurt looks back down at the boy dumbly for a moment, even prompting the kid to lift his eyebrows expectantly, before stepping aside, “Um sure.” He says for lack of anything better.

As the little boy makes his way into the apartment, Kurt gestures toward the living room, “Ummm Blaine? Bethany? Your…” He trails off before saying ‘brother’, but the pause is enough to imply the word before he adds, “, is here.”

Blaine and Bethany are staring at the little boy with wide eyes. One set hazel, the other blue, but still so much alike. The boy moves into the room with a confidence he really shouldn’t have at that age and definitely not in this situation, and sits in the only unoccupied chair in the room. He folds his hands in his lap and sits with a straight back.

Kurt sits back down on the arm of Blaine’s chair and the three of them - Blaine, Bethany, and Kurt - just stare. How did this kid get here? What does he want? Why can’t Kurt get the image out of his head of this kid being somehow genetically tied to both him and Blaine?

Before any of them can ask a question though, the boy speaks.

“My name is Aiden Anderson. My father is Marcus Anderson and my mother is…” He pauses and Kurt notices his mouth pulls up in a slight grimace, “was...Evelyn Anderson.”

Even though Kurt is beyond confused, his heart breaks for the little boy, for Aiden. This boy just lost his mother.

Blaine clears his throat and shifts in his chair. Kurt turns to see his husband lean forward with a furrowed brow, “Aiden,” He starts, “does your dad know you’re here?”

Aiden shakes his head, “No. I found your address the other night. My father said he had to go do something but he was acting very strangely so I snuck into his office while he was gone. I found your address on his desk attached to a picture of you two.” He says gesturing between Blaine and Bethany.

Bethany and Blaine turn to each other with shocked expressions before turning back to Aiden as the boy keeps talking, “You looked liked me.” He shrugs, “And when I saw you at the funeral today, I asked my father who you were and he got all…” Aiden pauses and adopts a grumpy expression for lack of words to describe Marcus Anderson’s reaction. He drops the act after a moment before sighing, “I wanted to know why you looked like me, so I remembered the address and came to find you.”

The room is silent after the boy's story before Kurt’s eyes widen briefly, “Smart eight-year-old.” He says impressed.

Aiden turns to him with his nose in the air, “I’m seven.” He corrects.

Kurt’s eyes widen even further.

“So, you don’t know who we are?” Bethany asks.

Aiden shakes his head, “No. I just saw your picture and know that my father got really upset when he saw you and I asked about you.”

Blaine sighs next to Kurt and wrings his hands together, “Aiden, I don’t think your dad would want us telling you who we are.” He says.

Aiden tilts his head curiously, “My father always says the more knowledgeable a man is, the less of a fool a person can make of him.”

Kurt notices Blaine’s eyes pinch at this before he bites his lips together, shakes his head, sighs, and looks back at Aiden, “Aiden, I’m Blaine. And this is Bethany.” He says, gesturing to Bethany on the other couch who waves. Aiden gives Bethany a strange smile but waves back before Blaine continues hesitantly, “...And our parents were Marcus and Evelyn Anderson…”

Kurt watches as the little boy in front of them takes in the information, rolls it around in his head, and then comes to the only conclusion there is. His eyes widen and his mouth drops open as he stares between them.

Kurt kind of can’t believe he’s been witness to the same face (just decades apart in age) realizing it has more siblings than it thought it did twice in one day.