#hope you like me rambling Anon

[2deadkat]

i'd love to hear ur complaints abt modern geronimo! If u'd like to share that is

Thank you for asking anon, I’d love to share and you have inadvertently entered the dragon’s den/lh

But fr tho, it’s a lot. It’s mostly pertaining to the writing.

The reason why I hate modern Geronimo is in the biggest nutshell possible, they screwed up the original dynamic for the Stiltons, a majority of the books is just one big game of Geronimo torture porn between the other characters, and overall a lot of wasted potential for unique interactions between the wider cast and the rest of the Stiltons as its limited to just Geronimo himself. Hell a lot of the plots could have the input from the other Stiltons if they were brave enough. And there seems to be a new character every few books and there’s no rhyme or substance to it anymore. Since when did trap reproduce???

And you’re telling me von Volt has another relative???? Yk at some point you just stop reading the books. Oh and do not get me started on the Thea problem…

Let me start with the Stiltons real quick, somehow they got worse by watering down their personalities to a bunch of cheap jokes.

What made the classic (or early) books work was that the whole point of Geronimo’s character is that yes he’s a wimp, but that’s because he’s a tired boss who gets dragged into his family’s shenanigans, and by extension his friends and allies around him. Everyone has some eccentric personality that shocks or baffle him in some way, and that’s where the comedy comes from. He’s able to stand on his own because of his duties and eagerness to stay in his comfort zone is where the meat of the interactions come from.

His family especially Trap and Thea were meant to be respective foils to him. Trap consistently bullies him and Thea is meant to be the direct opposite of him, she’s the driving force in the group and has more pants to cover up what Gerry doesn’t have. She’s the one behind a lot of their adventures or scoops, hell she’s also the one who keeps finding them in the first place and drags her family and connections into them which makes sense because that’s her job and also where a lot of the plots start from. She fills out the spots that Gerry doesn’t have. Trap is just pure comic relief and is basically that outside force to the group. Hell the two even have a dynamic of their own where’d they just fight over the most trivial things and that makes us side with Geronimo more because of the ridiculousness of his family, that’s what made it click (to me). Highly recommend you read the early books, it shows the strongest character imo (#1-20).

Now Geronimo has all his autonomy stripped away and he’s been reduced to a nothing but a punching bag for everyone around him. I hope I’m not kidding here but try reading a classic book (let’s say #7 or #26) and compare it to the writing in a modern book (let’s say #46 or #74) it’s very jarring. They put more emphasis on different ways his day is ruined and give him no room to breathe or stand on his own. There’s just no charm to that anymore. There’s no fine line with his relationship with the other characters (Run for the Hills Geronimo is probably the worse one and represents everything I don’t like about the new dynamic)

Now over time that initial draw to action is also done by Trap, which I thought was cool because it still plays into the idea of Geronimo’s family dragging him into their shenanigans and the motives make sense to him specifically. It’s like he keeps getting calls from his relatives on schemes which is fun. But the more you keep reading the modern books the dynamic gets skewed over time and here’s the part I’ve been waiting for…Thea gets shelved completely. And now it’s somehow the GOD DAMN GINGER BROS SHOW?????

Now I think about it, Trap used to be a lot more clever in the classic books as well, he’s essentially a bumbling fool who keeps falling into the wrong situations to make a quick buck which slowly backfires on him. If you know me that well you know I’d call him a less scummier Grunkle Stan. The fact that there’s no Thea to balance it out or at least ground the dynamic to some level feels really annoying now.

You don’t really see much of her anymore as she’s either smiling at the back or doesn’t say more than five lines anymore, which is baffling because she’s the one who can pick up the pace the most. I really wished they showed more of her involvement again…They’re a trio, not a duo…and the books are suspiciously phasing her out to make room for the ginger bros fail routine and it ultimately feels very empty…there’s not much acknowledgement or involvement from her really like they could say she’s busy at mouseford or something but nope! Shelved completely without an explanation or a missed opportunity for a tie-in mention.

So far the only redemption I see is the Mayan Mystery one and the Soccer one where she had a more integral role which are way more recent but it still bothers me that they just shelved her for a majority of the modern run.

Listen if the modern books weren’t cowards she would SOLO all these people

she’d probably have an interesting dynamic knowing that she gets along with everyone well and is technically an adventurer. It’d be such a good parallel to her brother to play off of.

hell it’s even worse in the comics. Like there’s legit no acknowledgment of her at all, when trap is absent that gets an explanation but she’s just suspiciously…gone and the only time she does have a major role is when she’s used as a fake mask for a psyche-out to the villains (I’m sorry but if the comics are gonna pull that shit then I’m baited to believe that Thea and (cat lady) would have a homerotic switcheroo fight akin to Ms.Bellum and Sedusa. SHES THE TOUGHEST AND SMARTEST RODENT, USE HER GODDAMIT)

Idk man I tried reading some of the comics and it never worked out that much, again the dynamic feels suspiciously empty with zero acknowledgment. It’s not the Stiltons it’s just the fucking ginger bros for some reason. It doesn’t feel solid like it used to. I really can’t get into them which is a shame, and tbf why would I want to read a comic where Geronimo goes back in time and helps a colonist do his thing 💀

I’d be very happy if someone here can give me one good reason to get into them somehow, I want to like modern Geronimo, please/s

Look if there’s one character I don’t mind them putting in complete absence it’s probably the unaccompanied minors/s…Or Petunia which makes much more sense since she’s a family friend!

Look I actually like Ben and Bugsy as a duo, I think their whole concept is really wholesome, but the books don’t really push their parts that much, like there’s no meaningful interaction they have with the adults which is a lot of missed potential that or it’s just limited to Geronimo. Like listen I get that the whole point of the books was that it was from Geronimo’s perspective, but it’s not like everyone else was just “present”. They had more active roles and Gerry would just write all his observations down. You want a good example? The Mona Mousa Code.

Still…Benjamin had more charm and a bigger role in the classic books…that boy can hyper fixate and master niche skills in anything and was the emotional rock for Geronimo. But now he just goes along with his uncle being a punching bag routine :/ and I KNOW they could do a lot more for Bugsy here, especially since the paws are practically family friends.

—-

But you know…I’ll do give it credit here this era has one of my favorite art styles in the series and notably the one I grew up with the most (classic books illustrations still hold more charm imo) but the way action and expression is illustrated is just *chefs kiss* there’s a certain bounce to it that makes it so memorable.

And I’ll do admit all those geography facts (even if it’s just basic facts I mean it’s a kids book) and long detailed lists or charts about a characters detail is really cool and somehow makes it more immersive.

And it’s really nice to see the universe get expanded.

But overall, the writing is not the same anymore, the original dynamic is screwed up, and lots of missed opportunity to round up the cast together. It’s either empty or I’m just getting too old…Maybe I’m just nostalgia-biased in different areas who knows. But that’s pretty all my thoughts I can pull out.

[unclewaynemunson]

prompt idea! :D

steve being a poet and eddie being a songwriter. they both reference each other in their works and no one has put it together yet.

( also hi you're awesome )

Oooh anon I love this, this is such an intriguing concept bc the possibilities are ENDLESS with this one! I hope you like the direction I ended up taking it in :) (and thank you so much for dropping this in my ask box! <3 )

EDIT: I wrote an expanded version for this one and it's also on ao3 :D

---

Jeff was the one who introduced Eddie to Ronan Right. His mom was moving and when Eddie visited to help, he found his friend with his nose buried in a small book that was nearly falling apart in his hands.

“What's that?” Eddie asked, flopping down next to Jeff among the boxes.

“My mom's favorite poet,” Jeff mumbled, barely glancing up from the page.

And as soon as Eddie got a chance to pick up the book from where Jeff had left it, he was hooked. He was no help at all for Jeff's poor mom, completely engrossed in poem after poem, reading them again and again and again.

Eddie liked reading poetry to get some inspiration for his songwriting, but a lot of poetry had this atmosphere of pretentiousness around it. This didn't. It was surprisingly simple. To the point, with a rawness to it, mostly short poems that had a simplicity with which they managed to cut right to the heart of things.

Ever since that day, Ronan Right became Eddie's biggest source of inspiration. He'd never start working on new songs before reading one of Right's poems first. And whenever he got stuck on his lyrics, he'd pick up one of Right's books – and every time, without fail, he'd find something in there to help him find the right words.

---

When people would ask Steve what inspired him, his answer was always the same, always simple: music. Most people probably assumed that by that, a poet would mean classical music or maybe jazz of some kind. They were wrong: Steve Harrington, professionally known as Ronan Right, liked to blast the most screamy metal imaginable whenever he was writing – much to the discontent of his poor neighbors. He didn't care much for lyrics, it was all about the sound for him: about volume, about harmonies, about a combination of ingredients that somehow managed to flip a switch inside of his brain that unlocked the more creative ways to look at words.

His favorite band was called Corroded Coffin. Something about them stood out in the long list of metal bands he loved to listen to. It was something about the sound of the singer's voice, about the guitar riffs, that simply made sense to him, made the words that he was looking for bubble up to the surface naturally.

He got halfway through the first song on Corroded Coffin's newly released album, when he froze at his desk. He didn't care much for lyrics, but those words... There was something familiar about them.

He replayed the song from the beginning and started frantically flipping through the pages of one of his earliest poetry bundles... Yeah, there definitely was something familiar about those lyrics.

They weren't copied, exactly. It could just be a coincidence.

But the album kept playing on and Steve kept getting distracted by the lyrics because there was so much familiarity in them. It wasn't like the singer was stealing from him, it wasn't even like he was taunting his copyright or anything like that... It was like he was building on Steve's words. Like Steve had laid a foundation that had sparked Corroded Coffin to make something beautiful. Like the two of them shared a mind, a soul, an inspiration.

And Steve wrote the best poem he had ever written, in one go, that day.

---

More bundles followed. More albums were released. And they kept interlocking with each other, one causing the other to do something new, try something different, figure something out.

Ronan Right was still an obscure poet, well-respected but not mainstream enough for bigger successes. Corroded Coffin was still an obscure metal band, praised by the connoisseur but too experimental to ever get anywhere bigger than the verge of the metal scene. The only one who noticed the textual similarities between the two, was Jeff's mother. She'd smile her knowing smile and chuckle quietly, delighting in her own private understanding.

---

A new book was about to get published. Steve had to drive down to Chicago to meet with his publicist and talk some things through, but his car was in the shop so he got on a train instead. The meeting went well, Don't try to be a hero officially got the green light, and feeling content, Steve pulled out the latest Corroded Coffin cd to put in his walkman as soon as he got on the train back home.

“Hey,” the guy opposite him said with a smile and a nod towards Steve's walkman, just before Steve could put on his headphones. “Corroded Coffin, nice.”

“You know them?” Steve asked, taken by surprise, a matching smile creeping onto his own face.

“Yeah.” The guy chuckled. “Yeah, I know them.”

Sunlight fell through the window and shone on the big rings around the guy's fingers, catching Steve's eye – and pulling his gaze towards the tiny book he was holding in his hands.

“Hey,” he said, “Ronan Right, nice.”

The guy stared at him for a few seconds, something like disbelief in his big brown eyes. “You know him?!”

Steve felt laughter bubble up in his chest. “Yeah, I know him.”

[the1trueanon]

he deserves to know he's pretty

[a-cakehound-or-critter-a-day]

Werehounds are cake hounds too but can stand in two legs and have rational thinking xD. Would Brute or Esterhazy appear in doodles too or not?

sure why not xD besides the point they're a delight to draw anyhow! ^^ 1/21/2024

[shkika]

i've been curious about how iterators in your interpretation ascend exactly, since they seem to be unable to get off the string!

is the process more metaphorical/spiritual in nature? or is it entirely physical?

also!! i really really love your art and interpretations tee hee pleading face emoji

This is a pretty good prompt to talk about how I think ascension works! I'm gonna try to be thorough even if some information may seem basic! To me ascension feels like it's meant to be spiritual.

DETAILED EXPLANATION OF UH...

1. Ancients and ascension throughout time.

2 . Iterators and ascension

3. What Saint is and how he works.

I think some people may not realize the concept of leaving the world behind was a thing before the void fluid revolution, before our ancients discovered the ruins of the race that came before them that led to the void sea. Those were the times of those gravel eating monks.

I think ascension is supposed to be a process experienced by old creatures. It works by abandoning all your earthly desires after having been through the cycles again and again. So as you detach yourself from the world eventually.. leaving it behind and ending the samsara.

It became something worth working towards. If you didn't guide your soul to spiritual relief... you'd get stuck in the cycles. Which was painful and scary.

When the void revolution came and a much easier and faster solution was found, of course they took it. It was an answer to getting stuck, finally they would have a guaranteed method of escaping the cycles.

Turns out you can't cheat yourself out of the cycle.. if you are attached to the world too strongly, you become an echo. Which made rumors spread.

So we need another solution. Another effortless way to escape. And so iterators were made! They were designed with a few things in mind . They would be a constant in any cycle, they can't escape.. they can't ascend.. they can't die. Their taboos would make sure they don't try anything themselves and they tough bodies keep them from completely losing function.

This way they could work basically forever on the great problem.

Alright here we go!! The question! How do iterators ascend then. They shouldn't be able to, they weren't meant to do that on their own, but one allegedly managed.

Well a GOOD hint imo is Moon's dialogue in the Saint campaign.

By this we can guess there is a solution. But it is one right answer among infinite faulty ones. And it's completely indistinguishable or was there a way to safely test it.

Once you discover it and you execute it. You're a goner.

Kind of.. how it happened with Sliver of Straw..

Kind of how Saint's ascension works too.

Sliver basically was the only iterator EVER who accidentally stumbled on it and executed the task. And ascended herself before she could do anything more than send the triple affirmative signal.

And that was it. It probably happened completely out of nowhere in a flash. And she was gone.

This is also a reason why I think she is saint. The way Saint ascends creatures is... by just giving them the solution she discovered. The moment they know it, they end up in the void.

Saint is the only one who can do this. The only one that came back.

OH also quick note.. I love how Pebbles and Moon do not understand what Saint is, unless they discuss him together. Very underrated part of the game's writing. Anyway.

Saint's purpose is to continue their endless cycle to save others. Pebbles says that by definition no one who knows the answer can venture outside.. except Saint. It's why Moon tells him to wake up.

He's the only one that can.

[incorrectsibunaquotes]

tumblr glitched and spared you all the most heated rant of my entire hoa fandom tenure

[cupidskissx]

hi!! idk if u accept prompts but i love ur monaco malaise and- yeah

mastermind by taylor swift. but make it lestappen

Thank you for the love on Monaco Malaise, it truly mean so much to me! 🥰🤩

*Frantically listens to Mastermind for the first time, downloads lyrics and annotates*

I’ve never had an actual prompt before, 🥹 I’ve been afraid to put the call out, it’s such a lot of pressure and risky 🫣

That being said, I loved writing this! If anyone else has any prompts, please send them my way! I hope you enjoy this little AU, Anon ❤️

~~~

The first time Max saw Charles, he knew.

He wasn’t sure what he knew, but he knew it. Call it luck, lust, or destiny, or perhaps a combination of all three. Whatever it was, he felt it in his bones.

He’d heard whispers Ferrari were considering a new team boss — some hot shot who flew up the ranks at Maranello. However, Max’s two week, no-contact vacation with his mum and sister saw him miss the media storm after Leclerc’s appointment.

The summary of meeting minutes and critical updates that his Executive Assistant compiled upon his return only had him mentioned once, in a two sentence dot point:

Charles Leclerc to replace Frederic Vasseur as Team Principal of Scuderia Ferrari. Effective: 1 January 2028.

It was easily skimmed over in favour of actioning the mass of paperwork requiring his approval.

Maybe if he’d known how this man would shift all his focus and ambition in a matter of moments, he would have at least read his profile online. Or, perhaps issued a full investigation to learn everything there was to know about him — signing it off as: “getting to know your competition”.

Alas, he did neither, leaving the universe — in all her surreptitious glory — to place them in the right place at the right time.

*

The Bahrain briefing room was hot and stuffy. Max was half out of his jacket when the door opened. An unfamiliar figure squeezed in. He was flushed, his hair spiked up. He had a notebook under his arm, a pen perched behind his ear, and he was struggling to get his phone into the front pocket of his jeans. The meeting was yet to start, but he shot Stefano Domenicali an apologetic look.

The man, who appeared close to his age, secured his phone and scanned the room for an available seat. It was surprising, concerning even, the way Max’s peripheral vision reduced until all he could see was this flustered, handsome man in the doorway.

It was like one of those cliché moments in a rom-com, the lead actress walking in, hit by a spotlight, the only one in the room — Max couldn’t look away. The man’s gaze landed on Max and his lips twitched up in a small smile, enough to make Max’s heart stutter. Max forced himself out of his stupor, smiled back, and continued to take off his jacket.

Niels Wittich tried to squeeze passed the man, knocking into him, forcing him to move out of the way and make a seating decision. He weaved through the row in front of Max, and was considerate enough not to sit directly in front of him, choosing the next seat over. Max surveyed the room, every other Team Principal was there, so that could only mean one thing. He was Charles Leclerc.

Charles settled into his seat and checked the spiral spine of his notebook, he paused. He opened it to a fresh page then started to pat down his pockets. Coming up short, he checked the spine again. Max squeezed his lips together to prevent himself from laughing. Before Charles could frisk his pockets a second time, Max leant forward and tapped his shoulder.

Charles turned around, his furrowed brow smoothing out. Handsome wasn’t all-encompassing enough to describe him. He was ethereal, timeless beauty carved by an ancient, wise deity.

Max didn’t trust his voice so he gestured to his own ear. It took a moment, but Charles’ face split into an embarrassed grin, his dimples popping, and cheeks flushing. He plucked the pen from behind his ear.

“Merci, J’oub— oh, sorry, I just got off the phone with my brother...”

Max didn’t have the opportunity to tell him he understood French — he’d lived in Monaco for long enough — because Charles wiggled the pen and kept speaking, “Thanks, I’d forget my head if it wasn’t screwed on.”

Charles looked down to clip his pen through the wire bound spine as Max said, “Now that would be tragic.”

He looked back in Max’s direction, his smile shy, his eyes twinkling under the fluorescent lights, Max’s chest flooded with smug satisfaction and something else. Something that tingled. And because Charles wasn’t presumptuous, he leant over the back of his chair, offered Max his hand and said: “Charles Leclerc, I’ve taken over from Freddy.”

“Max Verstappen, TP for Red Bull,” he shook his hand, “Enchanté, and all that.”

Charles snorted a laugh, “And all that,” he repeated, his tone soft and warm.

“Welcome to another season gentlemen,” Stefano said from the front of the room.

They broke their lingering handshake, acknowledging that their conversation was over, their smiles faded, and Charles turned around to face the front of the room.

Max peaked over Charles’ shoulder every now and again, watching him write headings, sub headings and dot points in faint, chicken-scratch cursive.

When the presentation moved on to the compulsory, OH&S policies and procedures Charles started to doodle a small race car in the margin of the page.

It was that moment Max knew he was doomed. He had no choice but to wriggle his way into Charles life, or ruin his career trying.

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

I know this is random but reading your blog and seeing your art made me so motivated I made my 1st animation ever (not counting pixel art ones), after not drawing digitally in months and it looks kinda basic and it isn't colored but I made it and I'm really happy with it so I guess what I'm trying to say is thank you for motivating me to make digital art again! I hope you have a wonderful day/night :)

MKJSJWJW HI!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TELLING ME THATS GREAT!!! Animatics need time and patience so the fact you went straight for it is so cool!!!! I bet it looks lovely!

Hope you have the greatest day/night too!

[roseytoesy]

This might have been said before but

How do you feel about hurt/comfort vore?

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

It’s just about everything I read for this community. I love to think of ways for characters to be gently hurt or put in a bad spot and having to be eaten to be comforted. Tucked away to be hidden, to find safety in a cruel world, etc. it’s an amazing trope and I love it so very very much. But if the hurt is too much I’ll be really sad so I need small hurt big comfort. 10/10 in storied and just scenarios in general. Thank you!!

[rillils]

OK BUT THOR JUST ADORING BUCKY IN A BROTHERLY WAY AND BEING VERY TOUCHY IN LIKE A FRIEND WAY BECAUSE HES LIKE THAT AND STEVE, OBLIVIOUS AND VERY JEALOUS STEVE, IS JUST VERY VERY JEALOUS

yes, that would be it

NONNIE, MY BEAUTS, I FUDGING LOVE YOU 💕🥰💕🥰💕 you know, this ask made me grin like an idiot, and then I spent hours thinking about it, and then one thing led to another and it spawned this... thing? it's all kinda jumbled and unrefined, and I didn't give it a re-read so um. but yeah, you can find most of my ramblings under the cut :3

imagine if this is before the boys become a thing – they’ve been dancing around each other for the better part of a century, forever stuck in this relationship limbo because they are two big pining dumdums, with a history of trauma longer than the Nile and a deeply ingrained tendency to not talk about their feelings, and they’re hopelessly in love with each other, and also just. kinda hopeless in general. desperate to finally Make This Happen, but kind of at a loss as to how to do it.

after all, there never seemed to be a good time for this, right? they never seemed to have enough leisure and peace of mind to give this thing, this really important thing, the proper space.

but now, you know. now Bucky’s out of cryo, and their enemies are far away. there are no new wars in sight (shhh infinity war never happened), and most importantly, life in Wakanda has given Bucky the chance to find some peace, to rest, to take the first few steps of his journey towards recovery. so Steve figures, maybe. maybe for once the timing’s just right, and he can do what he’s been wanting to do since all his clothes were two sizes too big and his shoulders fit under Bucky’s arm as if the shape of him had been cut out of Bucky’s side. he can tell Bucky, and find out if Bucky feels the same way after all.

ENTER THOR.

and Thor, you see, he befriends Bucky as quickly and as naturally as he does everybody else.

Thor with the boisterous laugh of a godling in his prime and the eyes of an ancient soul; Thor who’s supposed to be the god of thunder, and yet beams as bright and warm as the sun.

Thor, who finds true enjoyment in making people feel good about themselves, and he’s always calling Bucky handsome, complimenting the progress of his beard, teaching him how to braid his hair the Asgardian way, patiently and eagerly, just like he was taught when he was a boy.

Thor is genuinely impressed by Bucky’s knife skills, the flipping and the throwing and the twirling – he himself was always more about power and momentum, rather than stealth and agility – but his brother, he tells Bucky with unsuspected fondness, his brother would find kinship in Bucky’s knack for sharp blades.

Thor never tiptoes around Bucky – on the contrary, he’s quick to sling an arm around Bucky’s shoulders, to slam his huge hand between Bucky’s shoulder blades with enough strength to generate a minor earthquake and make Bucky’s bones rattle like so many pebbles in a box.

Thor, who is a literal god and has the body show it, who’s battle-worn and fierce and still finds the time to pick wildflowers to bring as a gift for Bucky’s home, who owns two goats with super badass names (which then turn out to be the equivalent of Toothgap and Chews-a-lot), who could easily tuck Bucky under his arm and take him for a spin through the clouds with his magical hammer

and he’s gorgeous, and loyal, and generous, and a king amongst his people, and it would be so fucking easy to fall head over heels for someone like him

and then there’s Steve, who had only just managed to talk himself into confessing his feelings to the love of his life

and suddenly it’s like Thor is always there, and his hands seem to be on Bucky at all times – on Bucky’s arm, at his back, in his hair to weave it into lovely plaits – and Steve loves Thor, he does, but these days he also feels the occasional urge to bite Thor’s fingers off one by one

he’s jealous. he’s so fucking jealous it hurts. maybe he doesn’t even realize it at first, but then he recognizes it – this ugly feeling eating away at his insides, sitting unpleasantly in the pit of his stomach every time he sees Thor hover too close to Bucky for one second too long

and he hates it, he hates feeling this way. he knows he’s being unfair, to Thor and Bucky both. he can see how Thor’s friendship affect Bucky in the best way; how important it is for him, to have one person in the world who cares, who sees beyond his past and doesn’t resent or blame him for it; someone who values him, not just as an asset to use when the need arises, but as a man, as a person, as a friend

and Steve is glad, he truly is! Bucky deserves it all – the extra positive touch, the words of affirmation, the loud appreciation, all of it. he deserves to be surrounded by people who love him, who respect him, and he deserves to feel at ease with them, as he does with Thor

but.

but every time Steve hears him laugh at one of Thor’s jokes, or catches him listening avidly to one of Thor’s many tales, which sound better and more exciting than half the sci-fi novels out there, he can’t help but wish he were the one putting that gleam in Bucky’s eyes

when he sees Thor pull Bucky into a one-armed hug so easily, while he can’t even bring himself to take Bucky’s hand, look him in the eye and whisper the words he’s been carrying in his heart for so long–

when he goes back to their place – Bucky’s place – and is greeted by yet another trinket Thor brought back from his latest trip to this or that world, the number of them crowding every room now, like a constant reminder–

when he and Bucky sit together for dinner, or Bucky tugs him along for a walk through the fields, and the first words out of his mouth are “Thor told me...” or “Thor says that...”–

Steve is jealous. so jealous he can feel his heart darken with rot from the inside out, like an apple core crawling with worms.

and the thing is, superserum or not, Steve is only human – and one day, when they’re all together and Thor is being is usual, friendly, affectionate self, Steve snaps at him for no apparent reason

it takes him a moment to realize what he’s done, and the way Bucky’s looking at him... all Steve can think to do is stalk off to go sulk in private, and maybe let the ground swallow him whole

meanwhile, Bucky doesn’t know what to think – he’s surprised, and a bit angry, and very much confused. yes, Steve has been acting weird for some time, but this? this isn’t like him at all

Thor, on the other hand, he’s not half as oblivious as he may seem; he’s been watching for a while now, and he believes he knows what’s going on with his friend. so he takes Bucky aside and tells him. clasps Bucky’s shoulder, and with a warm, benevolent smile, of the sort you’d only ever see on an immortal being, he says, “I believe it’s time for you and Steven to have a conversation, my friend.”

and dammit, but Bucky thinks so, too

locating Steve is easy enough. Bucky finds him exactly where he thought Steve would be: sitting under the tree in their backyard, where they’ve spent many of their afternoons, reading to each other, dozing off in its shade, snacking on dried fruits and nuts as they sent cute cat videos and memes back and forth between them

he’s got one of the shepherd dogs curled up in his lap, and he looks so solemn and miserable, with his fingers buried in the puppy’s fur and his head hanging gloomily, Bucky almost feels bad for him.

he approaches calmly – he knows Steve is aware of his presence by now – and sits on the ground next to him, in the groove between the tree’s roots, which they have long since claimed as their spot.

It’s Steve who speaks first, a quiet mutter, like all the fight’s gone out of him.

“What are you doing out here?”

Bucky shrugs. “Came to see if you were fit for civil company again.”

He looks over – Steve’s chin is nearly touching his chest at this point, eyes trained carefully on a nondescript spot on the dog’s white fur. Well then, Bucky decides, if this is how it’s going to play out.

“You know, Thor says he fears he must have upset you somehow.”

Steve is quiet for a moment, but there’s something there, in the way his jaw clenches minutely under his beard, that tells Bucky he’s struck the right nerve.

“And why would he think that?” asks Steve.

“I don’t know, maybe because you were being an asshole to him?”

The tips of Steve’s ears burn red hot – shame, if Bucky had to guess. Good.

“You’re right,” Steve says eventually, sounding genuinely contrite. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have– I’m sorry.”

“You should apologize to him.”

Steve nods, “I will. I promise.”

and then it’s quiet again. Steve keeps rubbing his thumbs over the dog’s soft ears, silent, and it becomes clear to Bucky that if he wants anything to change here, he’s gonna have to make the first move.

“He’s got an interesting theory, you know. Thor,” he tells Steve casually, nudging Steve’s knee with his own. “He thinks you might be jealous.”

That catches Steve’s attention. His head snaps up, and this time he actually meets Bucky’s eye, stuttering, “Jealous? Wha– why would I, why would I be–”

But it’s precisely because he’s looking Bucky in the eye, that he can’t bring himself to finish that sentence.

“... Was it that obvious?”

He sounds so utterly mortified, Bucky can’t help a little smile there. “To some more than others. Subtlety’s never really been your thing, you know that.”

Steve sighs, leaning back against the tree trunk as tension visibly bleeds out of him.

“I’m so sorry, Buck. I’ve been the worst lately. I should have been supportive, should have been rooting for you making a new friend, and instead I went and made it all about me. I’m sorry, I really am.” He goes back to scratching behind the dog’s ears, avoiding Bucky’s gaze, hesitant even as he adds, “I just... could tell how much you liked him.”

So there it is, then.

“And you thought that, since I had him now, I would just forget about you?”

The apples of Steve’s cheeks flush pink, high and full across his cheekbones. “It sounds so stupid when you put it like that.”

Good, Bucky thinks, because it is stupid. Steve is stupid – a stupid, endearing, adorable idiot, and Bucky wants to kiss the uncertainty off of his pretty face so bad it actually hurts to hold back.

“I do like Thor,” he says, watching Steve nod pitifully beside him. “He’s a good man, or– or god, or whatever he is in the first place. The thing is, he’s a good friend, and good friends are hard to come by. But Thor is not the one I want to be with. He’s not the one I want to fall asleep with, or wake up to, or come home to when the day’s work is done.”

Steve looks up, lips parted, a single grain of hope gleaming in his eyes. “He’s not?”

Bucky smiles, fond. Either Steve’s just that blind, or he’s playing dumb because he wants to hear Bucky say it; but that’s fine, too. That’s more than fine. Bucky’s gone without putting this into words for long enough. “No, Steve.”

“But there is someone.”

Bucky snorts. “Yeah, there is someone.”

He scoots closer, until their shoulders meet, and slips his metal hand in Steve’s own, letting Steve lace their fingers together.

“There’s this guy, you know, a good pal of mine. We go way back, basically grew up together, and I might deny this tomorrow, but I’ve been holding a torch for him since like, forever. I even asked him to move in with me – twice now, if you can believe that.”

Steve’s head tips gently against his, nuzzling briefly at Bucky’s temple. His breath is soft against Bucky’s cheek, and their hair whispers together, silk to silk. “Did you.”

Bucky hums. “First time around, we were still kids. He got all stubborn about it, figured it must be charity on my part, you know, a good Samaritan kind of deal. Never even crossed his mind that I might be more selfish than that. That he was home to me, and I wanted to be the same to him.”

The gentle squeeze of Steve’s hand around his is worth a thousand words. Bucky can feel them press into his skin, I remember, rich with fondness for the boys they used to be, and We know better now, soft and grateful, and more than that, sweeter than that, I’m right here, right here with you, deep at the core of who they’ve always been – ubi tu gaius, my love. Where you are, there I will be.

“But he came around,” Steve says, and Bucky can hear the smile in his voice as he says it.

There’s a happy ending somewhere in this story, close enough that Bucky can taste it on the roof of his mouth already, and they can spell it together, same as they’ve been doing since once upon a time.

“He sure did,” Bucky confirms. “The second time I asked him, though, he didn’t put up a fight. In fact, he didn’t try to argue at all. He said yes right away, and I thought. Maybe we’d both had enough of being apart. Maybe he wanted this as much as I did.”

“He did,” Steve promises without hesitation, body turning towards Bucky, seeking his gaze, and there’s no way Bucky could doubt him when they are like this. No way he could mistake the truth in Steve’s eyes for anything but what it is.

“And now he’s here with me,” he says. “Living with me. Building a home with me. He cooks with me, cleans up with me, stays up with me when I can’t sleep. He hangs our laundry all squared up like he’s due for an inspection, and he keeps buying more socks than either of us can ever wear, and he makes a face every time this other guy brings flowers into our home, because apparently, he should be the only one who gets to do that.”

And there’s the bright pink at the tip of Steve’s ears again, and the way he blushes all the way from the mole on his cheek to the three freckles on his neck, the way he ducks his head a little, embarrassed.

It’s moments like this that make Bucky sure: this is the man he wants. This doofus right here, who looks at him like he can’t help but, stars in his eyes, and tries so hard to hide the smallest of smiles under his beard, but he hasn’t quite learned how yet. Bucky thinks he never will. And to be honest, he kinda likes it that way.

He cups Steve’s jaw, stroking over the dimple he knows is there, buried beneath the soft bristles, and feels Steve’s smile curve under his thumb.

“I know him like the back of my hand, and still he surprises me some days. He knows me, too. Knows all there is to know, all the things that matter. He just hasn’t picked up on how much I love him yet. How happy he makes me. How jealous I get when our dogs like him better than me,” he adds, tipping his chin towards the overgrown puppy currently in Steve’s lap. Steve chuckles, and if Bucky could spend the rest of eternity just counting the crinkles around his eyes and kissing each and everyone of them, he would.

“I gotta say, this guy sounds like a mook,” Steve teases softly. “Might be you’re gonna have to spell it out for him.”

Bucky slips his fingers in Steve’s hair, pulling him in.

“You’re a dick,” he rumbles.

“I love you too,” Steve rumbles back.

“Kiss me,” Bucky tries to say, but Steve is already there.

[neolxzr]

Literally a genuine question no ill intent

What do you like about Aira? As much as people are absolutely adamant Akira is projecting (I really don't think he is (I'm not saying Akira is innocent) I just think he's trying to address the prejudiced thoughts the average Japanese person will have on the Ainu) Aira's weird comments and behaviour to Hiiro have been there since day one. And I also think Aira being the one who says all this is because he's supposed to reflect the fans and the average Japanese fan probably isn't that educated on the Ainu + there can be a good few racist enstars fans...

I'm not trying to sound heated about this I'm just coming from a genuine place, what appeal is there in Aira?

Also, as much as the Aira fans are talking about blaming Akira, I feel like there should absolutely be a focus on Hiiro right now considering that comment was... yknow said to him. I just think we should actually be talking about the Amagis considering that comment was intended to discuss the Amagis and their culture and the discrimination they go through.

i had someone ask me a similar question once but not in the context of all thats happening currently so you can read that here if youre inclined

buuuut what made me like aira so much in the first place was honestly that his concept as a character is really funny. i made a post a long while back that went into the funny meta jokes that you could make using aira as a character before i really knew much about enstars at all. having a character in your idol series that loves idols and canonically reads fanfic about them is just a funny concept in general. and as i continued to read more he continued to be funny and annoying and endearing (his little mini interaction with midori comes to mind immediately. there is something wrong with him)

also i tend to gravitate towards characters that give me like. little sibling energy. i love having a favorite little guy to dote on

but afterwards what really drew me to him was the main story!! thermometry specifically comes to mind (ouuugh,,,,). his feature scout stories are also great and so is feather touch! i wont like. go into detail really cause my blog is covered in me talking about aira already

his dynamic with hiiro is one of my favorites too, especially in mainstory. their dynamic isnt JUST aira says shitty things to hiiro and thats it. their relationship develops really far to the point where aira admits that he needs hiiro as much as hiiro needs him. they're young and inexperienced and kind of codependent as they're trying to keep themselves from going under in a sort of cutthroat industry. i think thats really neat. their relationship is really sweet to me and aira is a great tsundere type of character. he regularly is shown to actually like hiiro a lot as mean as he can be to him sometimes i.e. here. and you know the whole holding hands thing (which they also fucked up in the climax story but Whatever)

theres also this. which i think about regularly. the hiiai shipping fuel is vast

and additionally i think aira has some really great relationships with other characters too, alkaloid especially. feather touch develops his relationship with tatsumi a lot and its one of my favorite aira moments. i couldnt find my screenshots for this one but basically aira gives tatsumi his unlocked phone (something VERY important to aira since hes a little screenager) and it shows tatsumi just how much aira trusts him and he realizes how important aira is as a friend to him. being someone with a history like him aira's friendship is sort of new to him and it helps them both grow

he loves his friends so so much and he’s had a positive impact on all of alkaloid. he is its heart after all

but in any case i'm not going to like, defend myself for liking aira. i am aware that the shitty stuff has been there from the start but i've said something similar in the past that was like. aira isn't real and he cannot take accountability for what he says. he's a character written by real people who doesn't have any control over how he acts. so i guess that's why when i think the writers write something i dont think he would do or say in my own personal aira opinion i can sort of brush it off as just bad writing.

and not in the sense that i dont recognize that enstars sucks, because it does. enstars can be terribly racist sometimes and not just when concerning aira, and thats important to talk about (i.e. the orient cards, the king of thieves cards, etc). but at the end of the day the most important thing to recognize is the people and company behind the game as well as the real people who play the game and are affected by it. and not like, the specific characters in the game. cause they didn't actually do anything or feel anything you know

[princeblue]

does fem genya refer to a gender bend, or is it a transgender (or specifically nonbinary, gnc, etc) headcanon? if its the latter then what is the point for specifying "fem genya" when any genya would be a fem genya? I'm asking because I think that if it's the latter case you might get much more out of the headcanon when you don't place the reservation that there must be another type of genya that is a "normal genya" rather than just the possibility that genya as her normal self could simply be a feminine person in identity or in expression. it's also kind of othering, why not just fully assert that you want to see genya as feminine? I think it's a great thing overall

There’s really nothing much to it besides genderbends have always been one of my guilty pleasures? When I say fem genya I’m talking about always a girl genya, but that does not mean I don’t love/support people who draw genya as feminine presenting when i also love genderfluid!genya and just like, queer genya in general, femininity isn’t also linked to just your gender identity, but rather a choice in expression as well. Which is also amazing!!

And I’m not looking to get the “most” out of anything when I’m headcanoning female!genya, all I’m simply doing is having fun on the internet.

If it’s a thing you find great overall? Then hooray! But I also have my own ways of enjoying things and at the end of the day it isn’t that deep.

[unclewaynemunson]

Hey , brightside anon! Absolutely adore the fic!! Thank you so much! And I should have said it the first time around, but if the offer for an ending is still extended, steddie please!

Here you go!

(Read pt1 here)

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Jealousy got Eddie sick in his stomach when he arrived at Steve's house. He knew he only had himself to thank for this; wasn't he the one who hadn't shut up to Steve about how much Nancy Wheeler loved him? Wasn't he the one who told him that he shouldn't give up on her? And now here he was, standing on his lawn with a container of pumpkin soup in his hands, and his heart was shattering in his chest, because Steve and Nancy were clearly visible through the bedroom window, naked from the waist up except for Nancy's bra, laughing their asses of together.

Steve showed up to his trailer unannounced the next day. Eddie almost groaned when he opened the door to meet those goddamn soft brown eyes of his; he needed more time to get over what he had seen the night before.

'I guess i should congratulate you, Harrington,' he managed to say.

Steve gave him a confused look. 'With what?'

'Came to your house yesterday. My uncle got like five pumpkins from the neighbors, he figured you'd like some soup so he made me his delivery boy. So, um, i saw you. With Wheeler. Guess it worked out for you, after all.'

Steve's eyes went wide. 'No, not exactly what happened,' he said.

'No need to lie to me, man,' Eddie replied, annoyed. 'I'm happy for you.'

'No, I'm serious,' Steve persisted. 'I mean, we tried to get it on, but it didn't really work. It wasn't what it used to be. So we decided we're better off as friends now.'

'Really?' Eddie wasn't sure if he should even believe this, and he definitely wasn't sure how it was making him feel. He had been hoping that Steve being with Nancy would make it easier for him to forget the guy. He might have been jealous, but at least it would be clear.

'Yeah,' Steve said. 'I think I found someone who may be a little bit better for me. The only problem is that -' He stopped to clear his throat, suddenly avoiding Eddie's gaze, '-that this person was rooting for me and Nance.'

Eddie swallowed. So he had been jealous of the wrong girl; he knew that Robin had been just as invested into getting Steve and Nancy to reconnect. He didn't know why it even surprised him. It made sense, didn't it? The two of them were attached to the hip, of course he shouldn't have believed a word of that "Platonic with a capital P" bullshit. And they'd make a cute couple, he supposed. Steve still deserved to be happy, didn't he?

'What if she was pushing you towards Nancy because she didn't think she'd have a chance with you anyway, and was trying to protect herself?' Eddie said.

Steve stared at him for a couple of seconds. 'Who?' he then asked.

Eddie frowned at him. 'Your girl, of course.'

'What girl?'

The question left Eddie wondering how much brain damage Steve had been collecting over years of fighting bad guys. 'The girl you're into. The one who was rooting for you and Nancy,' he said, slowly.

Steve opened his mouth, then closed it, and finally opened it again to say: 'It's not a girl.'

'Wait, what?'

'Surprise,' Steve said weakly. He took a step closer towards Eddie. 'So... Do you really think that he was only rooting for me and Nance to protect himself, because he didn't think he had a chance?'

Eddie couldn't quite believe what was happening. 'I'm pretty sure of it,' he answered, hesitating. He noticed how Steve's eyes flashed downwards, to his lips. 'He doesn't have the best gaydar, apparently, cause he was convinced you were straight. And he can be a little bit dense sometimes, because he's still not sure if he's reading this right.'

Steve took another step closer; their chests were almost colliding now. 'I think he is.'

[finelyageddragons]

Currently in love with the relationship between the Grey Wardens and being doomed by the narrative, especially with how the HOF subverts that relationship so here's a 3am rant about it. Enjoy! The wardens are ghosts. They are born by letting go of everything you had before and drinking poison to bind your fate to the darkspawn and promise that your life and perhaps more importantly, your death belongs to them. The whole joining is a terrifying experience, you're drinking the blood of monsters and seeing a corrupt god in your mind and waking up to see those who died around you and being told you'll meet the same fate soon enough you've just been given more time to get there because to sacrifice, to die is a warden's purpose. Even if you survive becoming a warden, your best case scenario is sacrificing yourself to end the blight but it's far more likely you'll die fighting darkspawn or even more likely lose your mind and have to go to the deep roads to be lost and have your death be your last act of defiance in the face of this overwhelming wave of evil waiting to rise again. The best thing that can happen to a warden is to die in a meaningful way because you gave away your life the moment you drank that blood. All you are now is a soldier waiting to die in war and hopefully take the enemy down with you. It is tragic and haunting and noble and so full of grief. Grief for the live you gave behind and for the one you'll never have. Every warden spends every day of their life hoping not for a future or any life for themselves but simply to make their death mean something which is an incredibly interesting mental state and I could go on about how that effects individuals and messes with their values so that corruption is rife but what started this whole thing is Fereldan.

A wonderful post by @sapphim (which I don't know how to cite but I wanna give credit so if there's a way please tell me) discussed how beneficial it was for the wardens that the fifth blight occured in Fereldan and how much they lost by it being solved so soon. To put it simply, they wanted to sacrifice Fereldan as a lost cause and use it as an example of why they wardens shouldn't be neglected. They wanted it to be known of how much of a sacrifice they make an how important their duty by letting the country of Fereldan be an example of what happens when no one is there to do it and that the narrative has doomed everyone, that the world's crimes will be paid for unless someone is willing to be selfless and bear the burden to give the world another chance. Andraste would have been a great warden I'm sure. In the eyes of the warden, Fereldan is tainted just like their blood, it is promised to the darkspawn just like they are, willingly or not it bears the duty that all wardens do and must make the sacrifice they do too. For the greater good. To stop the darkspawn. It's better you having a death that matters than a life that lasts. This is the psychology of the wardens and they are applying those same beliefs to all of Fereldan. Why must they be the only ones doomed by the narrative? There is no surviving this story and there is saving the world there is only killing the darkspawn before it kills you. Thedas is at war with the archdemons and until they're all dead, there is no peace, there is only preparing for the next battle. There is no building a life, no building a country, there is nothing to protect because it is all doomed.

The way duty and sacrifice and the promise of the Grey Wardens must alter their values and perspective on life is fascinating and there is so much to explore here but what's important for this post is that the foundation of their entire order is that they are already dead.

This then brings us to the HOF and cheating death. Duncan is like the grim reaper in Origins the way he comes and snatches your soul at the end of each origin which I honestly love and it ties in so well to the idea that wardens are ghosts given you die in every other version of the story without him but that's the story of all wardens. They all die a symbolic death at the joining so that's okay but then Ostogar happens. Flemeth happens. You should have died. Fereldan should have been lost. Remember, the duty of the wardens is dying not surviving but you did survive, snatched away by a god. Every other warden has died thinking their paying the price for an absent god yet this goddess not only favours you, she changed fate for you. Every other warden throughout history has paid the price but not you. Not Fereldan. You get to cheat the fate while it dooms everyone else. Can you imagine how that must have felt for the other wardens? How much they must hate the hero for stealing the martyr Fereldan was set to be and making all their losses naught but a tragedy when it could have been so much more? Not only did you escape your own death but you stole the value of theirs. You survived which goes against everything the wardens are made for.

Going even further than that, you have the dark ritual where you can actively choose to cheat death again. When every other warden has had to give their life, had to sacrifice and lose and grieve and poison their humanity as they did their bodies, you get to escape it all. Wardens have struggled for decades to have a foothold in Fereldan but you'll go so far as to choose their ruler for them without any consultation. You have been a warden less than a year, ended a battle that they prepared for over hundreds of years and sacrificed more hundreds of years fighting in the past and not only have you defied everything they defined themselves by, you have made them look like fools and decided their fate for them. You have stolen the meaning of the death of every warden, you have stolen their martyrs and the justifications for their actions and by keeping your own life and humanity, by resisting their poison you have made them all look like monsters.

The hero was doomed by the narrative as all wardens are but they rewrote fate, they stole their life back so many times and by surviving, they created a whole new narrative that ruined everything the wardens were built upon. The wardens were made to be ghosts, not heroes. They're meant to die and be remembered nobly so they can be redeemed for they had to do to get there but not you hero. You get to shame us all, don't you?

[toaster-selfships]

hihi its me, the anon from ur other blog (yknow, the selfship questions one) and i'd like to kmow bout ur f/os,(u can gush nd stuff, idk)

and also, i'm curious as to how they look like cuz you said that theyre humanised! :>

Eeeekk!!! Screams!!! I love sharing how they look so this is...very good question for me. This is a bit of a...long list so I'm putting it under the cut, though I'm going to try and not type more than like three sentences or less for each of them so it's mostly just gonna be pictures. But I'm just showin my humanized ideas for how my primary F/Os look, but I do have humanized headcannons for...I kid you not everyone in the franchise.

!!!Not all the art here is mine!!! For the art that is not mine I will be writing their respective credentials and what social media platform it was originally posted on. I tried to stick to using my art as much as I could but I don't have a lot of digital drawings of them, nonetheless ones I'm ready to reveal to the world haha(though some I'll gladly share)

Some of them, to try and keep this to my main F/Os that I've been exploding over lately and to try and keep this from getting lengthy, I intentionally left out, ex. M.ater, L.eland, R.od, S.trip, C.hick, the- the rest of my F/O list, you get the point!😅

I also used this as an opportunity to mention what I headcannon their heights to be >:)

If anyone would like a version of just the images and without the descriptions 100% let me know, won't be a bother one bit!!!

------

For L.ightning I imagine something like this:

By @/Laoian on Twitter. Except I picture him to have his hair closer to a shoulder-blade sort of length and him not quite as fit.

I'd imagine him around 5'6-5'7

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For F.ranceso(forgive me for the full-body one looking a little more messy/wonky, it's a lot older than the other one and is.. im quite nit picky about that drawing but its what I got. The other drawing is leaning towards a doodle/being really simplistic and quick) basically this:

Ignore the color picks and whatnot, that was before I was smart enough to put those on a seperate layer JDNSJSJSJS

I'd say he's like 6'ft.

I had also posted a drawing of F.rancesco quite recently as well, I just didn't put it here cause he's got his helmet on and it's a close-up shot so you can't really see how he looks too well(it's one of my proudest drawings though!)

Also, this and this

please. PLEASE I cannot stress this enough this is just. THATS HIM!!

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I'm pre-appologizing(/half joking) for not having any normal drawings of F.inn, I don't know how all my digital drawings(that are colored) of him ended up being incredibly self-indulgent, I didn't even realize I did that till now! So I'm just doing this one for now(though I recently posted the art of me and him snuggling a bit ago on my blog. I'm quite stinkin proud of that one too!! One of my proudest, i think)

F.inn :)

He's like 5'4, same height as me(Except I'm a liar and I'm really like 5'3 and a little bit).

I'm not good at drawing Grey in hair quite yet but. That. He's got salt and pepper hair(or whatverr you want to call it) except it's the Grey mixed in with. Whatever blue-ish haircolor that is that he's already got JSBDJAJDR.

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A.xlerod!!!

I actually don't have a lot of colored drawings of him, which surprised me a bit, but I do have a tonnn of doodles of him aufbsifnskffj

He has a big overcoat and stuff :) and his button up shirt thingy is supposed to have a plaid-like pattern but I have no clue how to draw plaid quite yet 😅

He's basically the same height as me though! His facial hair is just kinda whispy fuzz, if that makes any sense. Kind of like a kiwi.

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G.rem and A.cer together! Cause they're inseparable JFNDJSN

I adorrreeeEE this drawing of G.rem and A.cer, I take very much pride in this drawing I love sticking it in people's faces. G.rem on the left and A.cer on the right.

G.rem is like 5'6 and A.cer is 5'1.

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Annndd J.ackson!!

By Jeno0305 on Twitter (I don't know what the writing says in the first image. I'm assuming the drawing of the person he's with in the first image is the artists version of G.ale, his driver/hauler)

I headcannon him to be 6'ft and pale as hell cause he just sits in his room all day and plays videogames(which is also canonical)

------

Anndddd that's all!! I'm trying not to hyper apologize for the length😅 when I spill the beans everything in the can comes out!! But really thank you for the ask, really was tons of fun to answer :) I appreciate it! Felt good to get to ramble and babble a bit!

If anyone somehow read through all of this then I'm sending you a life time supply of your favorite food

[jtl07]

What are your thoughts on the OCS?

Sometimes it seems like a manipulative cult that recruits vulnerable girls. But, it's also this found family for many of them. Is it good or evil? Is it both?

oh buddy. i ... actually have been having thoughts about this for the past few days (what is it with y'all being on my brainwave? must be something in the universe idk) as in, i've been contemplating the parallels between the OCS and the military.

so for context, i'm coming at this as a person who was in the military, who is a female poc from a middle class immigrant asian family. i give this context because i see a lot of the military in the OCS (i've mentioned it in some of my write ups and a big part of why i ended up writing the top gun 2 au) - mostly because the OCS is presented as an organization with a methodology that is built on violence.

i tried my best to be coherent but there's likely some meandering - feel free to ask further questions or clarification.

tl;dr - imo, it's all of the above.

i'm going to start with my experience in the military before i talk about the OCS because there's something in me that's chafing at the word "vulnerable." it's not that i think it's the wrong word per se, but that there's context that's needed.

for me, i had several family members who were in the military: my dad for one, several uncles, and a handful of my older cousins. this means i grew up learning that the military was a) one of the most honorable, respectable, and coolest professions you could join, b) the only profession where you were judged solely on your performance (i.e. racism wasn't overt), c) great financially because the pay was transparent and the benefits (back in the day) were fantastic if you stayed til retirement.

i don't believe any of that anymore, but that's what i'd learned. this is what my family believed (still does, actually). this is what many other poc believed too. compared with the opaque, racist corporate world - and having the responsibility of taking care of one's parents, who'd immigrated from their home country to give you "a better life" - having something stable and honorable like the military seemed like the best choice. why would i choose something else? how could i even see anything else? the military was the only choice i knew.

i left the military over a decade ago, but there's still a part of me that thinks "i'll never top my time in the military; i'll never have an experience quite like that." and the larger part of me can acknowledge now that yes, that's true. because when you're in an organization like the military (and comparatively, like the OCS) it's exhilarating in a way, knowing that you're part of something that's larger than yourself, knowing that you were deemed worthy - that you proved that you were worthy - of being part of this elite, special organization that has this grand, noble, world-saving mission. and yes, you feel a bond with the folks you serve with - bound by a vow to serve and protect, bound by experiences only they will understand.

there's nothing quite like that.

and i never want to experience that again.

because yes, it's exhilarating and exciting, and it's addicting in a way - to do all these cool things that folks make movies about, to know you're doing your part in keeping the people you love safe, to build relationships where no matter what, they've got your back.

but it's blinding. it blinds you to the violence, the harm that you're inflicting in the name of the mission - on both others and your own self. it blinds you to other ways of living. it blinds you to other ways of being safe - on both a personal and national level. this kind of experience trains you constantly: "this is the only way; this is the only choice."

and you can probably see why Beatrice's backstory resonated with me. of course she chose the church, the OCS - this was the only choice she had, the only choice she could possibly make to prove herself, to make herself worthy. in the OCS, she found a community of folks who, like her, were committed to a mission and ready to give their lives because, like her, that was probably the only choice they thought they had. it was the best choice they had.

maybe that's why i chafe at the use of "vulnerable" - because at the time, choosing the military felt like my shot at redemption, at salvation. it wasn't a moment of weakness, but of strength.

at least, that's what i had been trained to believe. and there is, apparently, still a part of me that believes it. even though there's the larger part of me that can see now the ecosystem that forced my hand.

it's also why i love Ava as a protagonist - how she was determined to find another way, how desperate she was to live. because organizations that are built on violence, organizations like the military, like the OCS, it takes folks who believe they need to prove themselves and takes advantage of that need, forces them to carry more than any person ever should, then calls them noble, calls them honorable, calls them worthy - all the while training them, ultimately, to die.

does good sometimes result from that, grow out of that? yeah. but the cost is very, very high.