#i do have to wonder how the story is perceived the less you know about anime and specifically mecha tropes

[antimnemonic]

new getter robo is GREAT bc it's literally one of those archetypal twilight zone-esque horror stories where some freaky shit happens, we don't really get any answers, just a conclusion of damn that was fucked up. anyways! but the main character is a screaming hot blooded guy and energetic music is playing throughout

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

How I long for the time, when your lips would kiss mine

Mihawk x reader.

Title is an excerpt from Blind and Frozen by Beast in Black (again).

This brief fic is the conclusion of a story that started with Built a haven for your love (until I let you fall apart) and continued with (and if nothing brings you back) Surely, I'll roam through life in black.

*****

Three months later.

You smile, more satisfied than greedy, as Vice-Admiral Garp slids a parcel across his desk, close enough to let you take it.

"Thirteen million berries, including the bounty you were owed since last year." he explains as you lift the parcel to stash it in your satchel, without bothering to open it to count the bills neatly stacked inside: you know you can trust the Navy - regarding the money you are due even if not about everything else "Don't take it the wrong way, (name), but I was surprised you had decided to take on this assignment: it is quite a bit below your usual level."

"I am aware. I have been... in poor health, which is why you haven't seen me in a while, and I wanted something simple to make sure I had gotten back to full fitness. From now on I'll be only taking on level three bounties, as usual."

Garp nods, promising to call you when your services will be required. "Got plans for tonight?" he idly adds, leaning back in his chair as he observes you rising from yours.

"I am flattered, Vice-Admiral, but I never mix business and pleasure."

"That was not what I meant. I was simply wondering if there was a reason why a certain man who never spends a minute more than he has to here at our HQ has been sitting in the waiting room for almost two hours twiddling his thumbs."

The mental image makes a smile blossom on your lips; you don't bother trying to deny it, since it would be clearly pointless. "Figuratively, I imagine."

"Probably. Still..."

"Still, thank you for your time. I'll see you soon, Vice-Admiral."

Garp laughs; he seems to find the whole matter highly amusing, which means it is probably a good thing he is discussing it with you and not with the other interested party.

"He was very worried about you; I could feel it in his voice." he suddenly adds, almost as an afterthought.

Mihawk is alone in the room most of your (less memorable, but still dear to your heart) meetings have taken place in, an half-empty glass of red wine in front of him. He is perfectly still, sitting and apparently lost in his thoughts, but the moment you appear at the door he turns to look at you, relief evident in his gaze... or maybe, just maybe, it is you who are able to perceive it.

A simple, inscrutable smile is the only answer he receives, and a moment later you have left his office and are walking down the corridor toward the room Garp mentioned.

"Hello."

He reaches you at the door a moment later, Yoru hanging from on his shoulders, and for a moment you remain face to face, silent as you simply relish being in each other's presence once more. His hand brushes against yours; holding back from hugging him is the hardest thing you have ever had to do.

You happily follow him when Mihawk suggests you go outside to talk, but once you have reached the plaza facing the Marine HQ neither feels the need to actually speak; night is falling, a beautiful sunset painting the sky of a hundred shades of red.

"Has your leg healed?" he asks after a while, as you unhurriedly walk down the pier, the salt-laden air making you feel at home; after all, you were born on an island.

"Perfectly, thank all the Gods. And I took down the pirate i was sent to kill in two days, which means I haven't gotten rusty despite fifteen months of indolence." you happily inform him "I have started with something easy, so as not to overexert myself, but I am tired of sitting around doing nothing; I am ready to get back to business."

"That is good to hear."

You smile, finally taking his hand. "I have missed you." you murmur; it is easy, even pleasant, to utter those words, because no matter how usually strict Mihawk is in judging others, you know you don't need to hide from him, not even the most fragile, most painful part of you "I am so sorry I never called or wrote, I... I needed to be alone. To come to terms with what I had discovered."

"I know, (name). I am not crossed, and..."

"And?"

He sighs; for a moment you simply know he wants to ask whether those three months actually helped, if your heart healed along with your leg or the pain of knowing you will never be a mother, never raise the children you have wanted for nine years, is still part of you, slowly gnawing at your heart like waves gradually wearing away the sturdiest rock. If he did, you are not sure what answer you would give, because you don't have one for yourself. Rationally, you know the passing of time will help, at least a little, and since you have always thought suicide is not the answer you can't help moving on, or at least going on, by inertia if nothing else, and the occasional moment, hour, or even day, of sadness and complete despair doesn't prevent you from cherishing the small and great joys life still throws your way, from the gentle, protective hug of your mother to the pleasure of seeing your bullet, shot from half a mile away, hit the bullseye in the middle of the target's skull... to being finally back in the presence of the man you have never stopped thinking about, even though you had forbidden yourself from using him as an incentive to get back to what you had been. You don't want to be the sort of person who needs her loved one's affection to carry on; you want to be better than that, for yourself first of all and for him as well.

"It is good to see you." Mihawk says after a while; he can't read your mind (or at least, you have no reason to suspect he can; on the other hand, you wouldn't be too surprised...) but you could swear he knows what you are thinking, what you are feeling, or maybe he simply has the gift to say what the person in front of him needs to hear "I have missed you. Again."

"I'm sorry..."

"You don't need to apologize. I just meant..."

"I know, Mihawk. And... I feel the same."

Silence falls between the two of you, and while it is not uncomfortable or tense, as usual when you are with Mihawk, you perceive you can't simply enjoy it as you let time pass you by. You have already wasted so much of it, fifteen months after your first night together (a night thinking back to which makes you still shiver in such a pleasant way; a night that was the beginning of something marvelous, even if not what you hoped) and three after you had quietly confessed to each other you both wanted to be more than simple acquaintances and drinking buddies. You are still young, and rushing things rarely helps, at least when feelings are concerned; but as you said, you have been idle for so long, and you want, you need, to regain control of your life.

"A new restaurant has just opened not far from here; it is pretty good, I am told." you mention after a moment, suddenly thinking back to Garp's conjectures "Would you let me buy you dinner?"

Mihawk grimaces. "I'd be more than happy to dine with you, but you have to let me take the bill."

"I have earned thirteen million berries twenty minutes ago. I think I can afford a dinner for two." you point out, relieved that scowl was not due to the prospect of spending the evening with you.

"That changes nothing. I would have imagined a noblewoman would have been keen on respecting traditions."

You smile; Gods, you are so happy to see him your heart is singing. "Then..." you begin, lowering your voice to an intimate murmur as you take both of his hands in yours, the distance between your bodies reduced to a breath "What if I let you pay for the dinner, and then I take care of dessert? In my inn room?"

Mihawk sighs, his usual serious demeanor betraying his actual feelings: amusement, and relief, and desire. "I suppose an after-dinner drink wouldn't hurt."

"Great."

He kisses you - on the forehead, since you're still in public; when you raise your eyes to his, you can see him smile. "Let's go, then."

The descending night hides you in its dark mantle as you set off along the pier, your fingers still interwined.

[jewishvitya]

I just wanted to thank you so much for all of your insight and generosity with your perspective as an anti-zionist israeli, something you absolutely don't owe us but I feel immense amounts of respect and admiration for. from an American jew, it's been so valuable to know there are people like you out there, it's made everything feel much less hopeless despite all the hopelessness. I've felt very alone recently, surrounded by all the Jewish people in my life who are pro-israel and don't seem to grasp the gravity of the situation and my pro-palestine gentile friends, and I've felt very alone in my grief as I've only really started to unpack and dismantle my own biases very recently. reading your posts and your perspective on everything has just made me feel very seen as a jew in this situation, especially as I try to reconcile my feelings about everything going on with my own feelings about my faith and my identity.

you've probably seen that I've gone through a lot of your posts and that I've followed you. i just want you to know that I'm not necessarily following you just for that, I know you're just a fandom blog, it's just that after looking through your posts I feel like you're just a really nice person and seeing yoi on my dash from you would be endearing coming from you even though im not into it myself.

just. thank you again for sharing your story and continuing to share. you have no idea how much it's helped me.

I'm in tears. I've been crying way more than usual over the past couple of months, but it's nice for a change to have those tears to come from being touched instead of grief. I apologize if I'm going to ramble.

You say I didn't owe you all this, but I do feel responsible. I'm watching so much destruction and seeing how comfortable people around me are with the loss of life. This is why I've been talking about what we do and not as much about the impact of October 7 on me or people I know. I did a bit of that in the beginning, but pretending it was the start of everything to keep going back to that one day, after two months of horror, as if I can't count past 7... I didn't choose to be born where I am, I didn't choose to grow up in the most extremist community this place has to offer. But since I'm here, since I'm comfortable at the expense of Palestinians and violence is being done in my name and I have the tools to highlight issues within my society, I think it's a moral obligation.

I know how I talk about things here, and that's genuinely because I don't want to minimize the severity of the racism and the nationalism in Israel. And someone perceived my words as showing hatred for Israelis. But... I love my people. I don't expect those who see or experience our violence to feel the same or even understand me, but I do. It's my neighbors and my childhood friends and my family. It's children I see playing outside and getting excited when they see I have a cat, and the random people who stop me in the street and give me directions if they think I look lost.

Even growing up in the West Bank settlements, the people were very good to me. I needed years to internalize the fact that this kindness doesn't get extended to you if you're not part of the in-group. It broke my heart. It still does. Seeing people who I know are capable of kindness and compassion, hardening themselves against the pain of other human beings. Closing their eyes and telling themselves it isn't real. It's all an act.

I told a friend I feel like I'm betraying my mom, who was deeply bigoted, but also a wonderful mother. She taught me a lot of the principles that are guiding me now - I just took down the walls she put around who deserves to be considered. She'd be horrified with seeing the things I'm saying if she was still alive. But she taught me to care about people, I just decided it means all people.

Everyone should be prioritizing Palestinian liberation, and at the same time, I care about this too. I care about the morality of my people. I need us to be better than this. I want to dismantle the nationalism that teaches us hate and violence so we can start to heal and come to terms with what we did (and still do) here. I want us to fix what we can and hold ourselves accountable. I want us to reimagine safety in a way that doesn't cause harm, and build good relationships with the rest of humanity. Every marginalized community is experiencing bigotry in interactions with every other community, that's just how these things work. But I believe healing the world, and healing my society, is possible.

And it's hard, because so much of what we learn is rooted in truth. Antisemitism is real. Millennia of persecution are real. The trauma we carry is real. If the idea of an ethnostate makes us feel safe, and the idea of losing it makes us scared, how do we differentiate between fear as a natural reaction to antisemitic violence and fear that was taught to us for the sake of nationalism? Especially those of us living in Israel, immersed in the propaganda. It doesn't matter in practice, our feelings of safety or fear don't justify an ethnostate, especially not one built on top of another nation, but it matters for the conversations I have with people.

And I said that the violence I'm seeing feels like an attack on my identity. Seeing a giant hannukiyah in Gaza, when Hannukah tells the story of occupied people fighting off their oppressors. Seeing images that echo so much of the horrors that were done to us. The Magen David being used with hate and spite. It's all so painful. And I love this land, it's the only home I've known, so seeing us destroying nature and soaking it with blood and calling that connection?

Judaism does guide me here. The concept of tikkun olam. The idea of לא עליך המלאכה לגמור ולא אתה בין חורין לבטל ממנה - doing what I can, even if what I'm able to do isn't some decisive blow that entirely turns the tide. The idea that every human being is a whole entire world, to me it means that every single person alive is worth fighting for. So no matter how much death I see, there's still worlds more to save.

And Jewitches had this post that felt just healing to read. Nationalism hijacked our culture, and it will always leave a mark for centuries into the future. But I'm not letting go, and I'm not letting that create a rift between me and thousands of years full of history I can be proud of.

I feel your grief. And I'm grateful for the anti-zionist Jews I met by talking about this, because honestly, I need you people in my life. The pain and the anger are both easier to hold together.

So, thank you for following. I might follow back, just to see you around on my feed. And thank you for sending this. Feel free to message me anytime for any reason (I promise it won't result in a lecture every time).

Also, your url gave me pjo nostalgia

[copperbadge]

I'm starting to think one reason (of many) you're such a good writer is you think in words instead of mental images. It could make it easier to express yourself in words to other people. When I write I have to try to fully express what's on in the three dimensional, surround sound smellovision cinema in my head, and I will never be able to do that.

I do wonder -- whether for good or ill it has definitely had an impact. (For new readers, I have aphantasia, the lack of a "mental eye" or inner visual world, which you can read more about in the "aphantasia fantasia" tag; it's disproportionately common to neurodiverse individuals, along with poor autobiographical memory). I don't know if it's better training for expression, because without knowing how words invoke mental images I don't really know how effective I'm being, but I think it does make for easier first drafts. And probably some of the popularity of my fanfic in specific is that it allows people to project a good deal onto the story/characters, because I tend to keep the visual details vague.

One of the longest-running complaints about my work is that it's much of a muchness, all my characterizations and stories are the same. While on the one hand that's obviously not a compliment, I think that is also attached to the fact that I'm not very visually specific, so not entirely my fault; if people are reading the same things into my work over and over it's probably because of a lack of imagination on their part as well. (I've tried to work on this as a skill, but I'm aware that haters gonna hate, so I don't take envy-driven criticism too much to heart anymore.) I think it's less homogeneity than it is simple vagueness.

But yeah also I would imagine if you're driven to give a very specific visual impression it would be SUPER frustrating if you feel like you can't, either because there aren't words or because you don't feel you have the skills yet. A lot of skill in writing is just practice, but "just practice" is a real minimizing phrase. I'm not someone who subscribes to the idea that talent doesn't matter, because I think it does; I think it's much easier to practice when you derive pleasure from the thing you're practicing, which I think is linked to talent.

Yeah, I dunno. Certainly it explains why most of my early adult writing was in theatre, where you're leaving a lot up to the designers and director in any case.

Rutherford & Fry did a podcast episode about aphantasia that I should probably get back to listening to, but I can't listen to much of it at once; some of it is the sense of being perceived, but some of it is also envy, because they talk to someone who has aphantasia but not ADHD and she's like "Yeah my mind is super quiet, it's nice" and I may not see images or hear noises in my head but still somehow manage a truly inconvenient level of chaos there. :D

[flowerywhispers]

Hello snoopy-san can u req wmmap where claude has another child that is also reincarnated like that is like kim dokja from orv (if u dont know its one if the best manwha/novel there 10/10 recommend u to read it if u havent yet hehe) or someone like penelope eckart, how would they react.

| | Reacting to a child like Penelope Eckhart | |

Character(s): Claude de Alger Obelia, Athanasia de Alger Obelia and Anastacius de Alger Obelia

TW: Mentions of neglect, allusions of murder plots, Claude starts off as a terrible terrible father as usual

Notes: Gender neutral MC || Hiya! Oml I love ORV, I just haven't caught up yet so I decided to go for a child like Penelope Eckhart rather than Kim Dokja because I knew that if I started thinking about him then I wouldn't be able to write this until I'd finished reading all of the chapters I missed sbejsgr

[ Claude ]

He finds you interesting rather than amusing like he finds Athanasia

He has somewhat unrealistic standards for how children are supposed to act and, while you act in a way that's much more ideal for his preference of silence, your sister is the complete opposite

He finds himself wondering what was different in how the two of you grew up if you were both raised by Lilian but likes to test you in less than conventional ways

Your bluntness is almost unnerving to him at times, he doesn't know how to feel about someone who acts so similar to him, but, at least at the beginning, he does like to force you into uncomfortable situations, just to see how you'd fair not to mention using it as a way to try and force the bluntness out of you

He finds it amusing when your survival instincts kick into overdrive when you're already trapped in a survival mindset but perhaps that's only because of the lack of control he seems to be able to exert over you. You're so precise with what you say and yet it makes him feel less and less like he's the one in control of the situation

He can tell, even with how you act, that you're in a constant state of a survival mindset so he likes to put you into dangerous situations a tad bit more than Athy but comes to try and protect you more than Athy once he begins to care for the two of you because of it

Something about the way that you seem to act like a cornered animal yet keep so composed, makes you seem all the more fragile to him

[ Athanasia ]

She's honestly a tad bit scared of you

She doesn't realise that you too have been reincarnated until much later down the line, too caught up in what your presence might do to her future with her perceiving you to be much too similar to the man that she's trying to avoid meeting

You're highly intelligent and you're prefect at manipulating the situation which makes her feel somewhat scared that you might want her out of the equation until she realises that she could try and win you over in some way like she did with Claude

You're more than aware that she's taking advantage of the situation and you but you can't come to care when she's helping you stay in Claude's good graces, as much as you keep messing up with your bluntness

She feels a little guilty, before she knows that you've reincarnated as well - only seeing you as another obstacle that could bring her harm - that she's been using you the entire time but she doesn't realise that you're doing the same

She tries, as she continues along the story, to get close with you as her sibling but is met with a wall every time. She never does give up though, becoming something of an annoyance to you in a way that only Lucas can relate to

It's a give and take relationship, both of you never really admitting to caring about either one as you both just try and survive but she comes to sympathise really heavily once she realises that she's not the only ones who's been entirely aware the whole time

[ Anastacius ]

Anastacius honestly sees you as a thorn in his side. An interesting one but a thorn in his side nonetheless

When he plans, he doesn't take you into account, not expecting you to be intelligent enough to see through any of his plans and not having predicted your presence at all. He only knew you existed when you wanted him to and you would otherwise slip his mind

It was horribly frustrating that he could seem to figure you out and neither could Aternitas

He works around Athanasia because he's heard about how intelligent she supposedly is for a child but you're more toned down in that sense, detached even as a child and spoken much less about. How hard did he have to try to find out anything about you from only vague rumours?!

Even as you grew up, you stayed cold and short with people, too intelligent for a child and too competent even by an adult's standards

He finds it funny almost, so much so that it reminds him of himself and Claude. What else did he expect from his brother's child?

Do not repost or claim. Only reblog 💗

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.63 Luca's Ladies

I didn't expect I'd love traipsing around the house in my underwear so much, but I did. Though, it wasn't so much being nearly naked but the fact that I was alone and didn't have to be concerned about anyone else. I could just get out of the shower and do whatever I needed to do without worrying about what to put on. When I considered what to do with my life just before my birthday, I thought about moving out for about five seconds. I didn't know Mama would give me money and thought I couldn't afford it without a job. I also didn't think I'd like living alone. Moreover, I didn't think I was ready for that level of responsibility—and I wasn't. But I'm here now, and it's great.

Last night, I had a nightmare for the first time. Everywhere I went, I felt like someone was watching me. I became very paranoid and walked around, looking over my shoulder, not trusting anyone. In the dream, I went to bed, and when I woke up, this creepy doll was hovering over me. It scared the shit out of me and I woke up screaming. Good thing Sophia had left by then. I blamed Mama's loud ass ghost dog and still couldn't believe I met Gammy last night. I thought about it the whole time I jogged that morning and could not stop grinning. What a woman. No wonder Mama talked about her so much.

Speaking of Mama, she called on my way to the resort. I went back there to take a yoga class so I could speak with the instructor about the possibility of teaching. She said she heard I had a girlfriend and had moved in with her. I knew Less couldn't keep it together. I thought I detected a hint of snark mixed in with her excitement, and I was right. She said she was offended that she was not the first to know, especially after I had promised she would be. To cheer her up, I mentioned we would be by later so she could meet Sophia. I think that sufficiently got me out of the doghouse.

I was the only one in attendance, so the instructor began the class. She was really good—better than all the other instructors I'd experienced. And get this. I could finally bend all the backwards without falling over! While I acknowledged my continuous improvement, I frequently struggled to perceive the growth, except in distinct moments like this where the disparity from before was unmistakable.

After class, I introduced myself and presented my case. Just like the spa in San Sequoia, she was the full-time yoga instructor, but they didn't have anyone for guided meditation, and I was free to come there and host sessions as much as I wanted. That wasn't exactly what I wanted to hear, but it was something.

On the way to Mama's house, I had all kinds of emotions. I was excited for two of my favorite ladies to meet, felt dread over the potential meddling and heckling, but most of all I was relieved that I could finally put all the pieces of my life together.

"Are you okay?" Sophia asked.

"I'm perfect. How about you?"

"I'm good. No concerns here."

"Good."

I took one last deep breath before opening the door. Mama was already waiting for us in the living room and attacked me with a big hug as soon as I walked in.

"There he is! My Mr. Cute Face."

Wow. She hadn't called me that in a very long time.

When she finally let go, I stepped back to begin the introductions.

"Mama, this is Sophia."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, finally, Ms. Murillo," she said.

Did she...bow? Homage to us meeting in Mt. Komorebi maybe? I didn't peg her as someone who would pour it on thick like that, but Mama ate it up, of course.

"Oh my," Mama exclaimed. "You are even more gorgeous than I remember! You can call me Emmy. I am SUPER glad to meet you! Come sit! Tell me everything."

I knew exactly what she wanted to know: how we went from being Social Bunny friends to living together. But I couldn't tell the whole story without mentioning my other friends, and it wasn't the time or place to broach that with Sophia. Besides, I had a better story to tell.

"Wait a minute," Mama shouted. "You went to the cemetery and didn't invite me? And you saw Mommy??"

"I thought about inviting you many times, but I wanted to go by myself."

"He was gonna call you," Sophia said, "but your mother said she wanted him all to herself."

"Ugh! Even Mommy knew about you before me!"

"Well...I think he was just saving the best for last."

Magical Sophia struck again, saving me from Mama's nosy wrath.

"That is the perfect way to think about it," Mama said. "Thank you, Sophia!"

"Luca tells me you make candles for a living. I think that's really cool. I'm not very good with my hands. I can't even keep plants alive!"

She was amazing with her hands, but this was a family conversation, heh. Mama told her about she had started the business. Apparently, she was pregnant with me when Dad taught her how to make candles, but she didn't get into it seriously until after they separated. After that story, Mama went immediately into sleuth mode since I never gave her any hints about who I was talking to.

I was content to let them talk and get to know each other, but every now and then, I felt like Sophia tried to bring me into the conversation. I appreciated the gesture, but I honestly enjoyed sitting back and watching them converse as if they had known each other for years. It was really incredible. She was incredible.

Mama ushered us into the dining room for dinner later, but Sophia didn't eat. Apparently, she didn't like fish. That was news to me, and I filed it away for future reference. The radio was on, and Sophia excused herself for a private dance party, but knowing her and how considerate she was, she probably wanted to give me and Mama a chance to talk since they had dominated the evening.

"I love her," Mama said.

I knew she would, but I was relieved to hear it.

"Yeah...she's great," I said.

"So..." she said in that tone.

I shook my head, watching the wheels spin rapidly in her head. Here comes the meddling.

"Is this it?" she asked casually. "She's the one?"

I couldn't tell if that was a real question or a strong suggestion disguised as a question, but I didn't mind answering.

"Yeah...I think she is."

"Good."

I kept waiting for the rest of the questions, but she said nothing more. Maybe she was contrite when she said she'd tone down the meddling. I halfway believed her when she said it, but was glad to see she meant it.

Sophia came back to the table as Mama collected and washed our plates.

"Sorry about that. When your song calls, you gotta answer!"

"Heh, yeah..."

If she said more after that, I didn't hear it. I was in a Sophia-induced trance. She was absolutely amazing! As I gazed at her, all that remaining fear I had about everything quickly melted away. At home, we were in our own fantastical bubble where no one existed but she and I. But this...watching her in the homes I used to live in, charming and befriending my family...this was real life, and I loved seeing her in it. She fit so perfectly, and I loved her so much. All I wanted to do was tell her over and over again! But the moment wasn't right. Truthfully, I didn't didn't want Mama fawning all over me and causing a scene. And...I didn't trust that Sophia and I could keep it together, if you know what I mean.

I beckoned for her to come to me and squeezed her tightly.

"My mom is in love with you," I whispered.

"I'm flattered," she whispered back. "How do I tell her she's not my type?"

She caught me completely off guard, and I doubled over in laughter. This woman was so dangerous and had six million wonderful ways of killing me. Either way I went out, I'd go smiling.

"Luca?" Mama called from the kitchen.

"I'll be right back," I said to Sophia, and sauntered into the kitchen. "Yes, Mama?"

"Hey! I just wanted to say I'm really proud of you, and I'm sorry I made you feel like you couldn't share things with me. Hopefully we can move past that? I don't want to miss any more of your life!"

Ugh! I knew I had hurt her feelings, but I didn't know she felt completely left out.

"Of course, Mama. Just so you know, it wasn't all you. I had stuff I needed to figure out...stuff I needed Dad for."

She nodded.

"I understand. I'm glad you two got a chance to get closer. That makes me happy."

"It's getting dark. I need to get Sophia home."

"Okay. I hope you guys come see me again soon. I love you, bud. And I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks, Mama. I love you too."

Need to catch up? See what you missed or start reading here!

[lbright90]

From the start

So the last few days I've tried to reflect on where my relationship began with Jesus and God. As I was reflecting I realized that despite me knowing WHO God and Jesus were from a very early age I didn't have a personal relationship with God until 2018. So I'm gonna recap on why this is. When I was little my family was always going to church. My grandparents and mom went to church and I was there with them. Now when I was little we went to mostly Pentecostal churches and I'm not here to put down any denomination for we are not to be divided but come together to form one and worship as one. However, when I was little I would sit there and listen and watch, and there are a few times I could feel the spirit talk to me, but much like I was immature that I couldn't understand fully what the Spirit wanted. Like much today when we take our children to church, we teach them how to behave and act in churc. When I got to my teenage years and joined a local church's choir I enjoyed singing and praising God. I could feel the spirit tugging at my heart but I still couldn't understand what it wanted. It wasn't until 2018 that I found myself in a world where I felt trapped raising a child (he will always be my baby) by myself with a little help of my mother and the father of my son not being as reliable. It was then that a woman I barely knew asked me, "Are you okay?" At that moment I realized that no matter what I did, no matter how much I tried, I wasn't okay because I was pulling the old fake it to you make it. I was physically, mentally, and spiritually drained. That day was when I realized that I can't get no where in this life without asking help from a higher power because everyone else is only human, they make errors, and are not going to be 100% reliable when I need them. So that's when I started going to church. The lady was nice enough to invite me to her church and that's where I met some of the most wonderful amazing people ever who will do anything and everything to help you. Even if it's just praying for you, sometimes prayers do more for you then what money or items every could. After a few weeks it was during a sermon about resentment and holding onto grudges that the Lord worked on me and showed me where I had erred all my life. That I was so quick to hold onto grudges from something that someone did over 20+ years ago and until I let go of that hatred I would never find peace or happiness. That day I left everything to God, I prayed for a resolution to an issue with my father that I had been facing for many years and guess what! God answered. I was able to make peace with my father and let go of some of the hatred I had been holding onto. Now I want to recap on why my faith and relationship with God and Jesus didn't start until 2018, despite me feeling him knocking on my heart multiple times before. When I was growing up, you were expected to act a certain way at church, but there wasn't a lot of explaining. Like we were told you raise your hands to praise but nobody could point it out to me in the bible exactly where it said this. Fast forward to 2018 when one of my coworkers who was studying the bible could point it out to me in less than a 5 minute conversation. Now I'm not putting all the blame on the church from my childhood, or my mom, or my grandparents. It wasn't for them to them force me to have a relationship with God. Now that I'm older and more understanding, if I wanted to really know the answer I should have opened my Bible and really tried to read it and let God's word speak to me. So in the end it was because I wasn't ready to accept God and that I couldn't perceive his will. Anyways I just wanted to share this story with you all and I hope everyone has a good day. John 14:6-7

Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me. If ye had known me, ye should have known my Father also: and from henceforth ye know him, and have seen him.

[bunmurdock]

👋

saw a post about toxic people in fandom, and while it was strongly-worded, boy do i have things to add.

unfortunately, i know who this post is referring to, and i’ve refrained from talking about them up until now, but i think it’s good visibility for this community to have. that person was a notable presence in fandom and mutual of mine who, over time, underwent a significant personality and blog overhaul. they were once very sweet and intellectually-stimulating to talk to but shifted over to a toxic corner of the comic fandom and began to act in certain ways aligned with that corner of fandom (emphasis on corner of comic side, most comic fans i’ve spoken to are nothing but kind and welcoming). i want to shed light on some things i’ve witnessed. this person was an awesome content creator for live action dd, but, well. feel free to read on and form your own opinions.

yes, this is about briefcasejuice.

if you follow them, you'll have probably seen their posts about live action fandom, i.e. marvel's daredevil is "ableist", "racist", and liking it makes you problematic. like, i understand people fall out of love with media all the time, and i think virtually any reason is valid to leave. i don't care. what bothered me about this person was, ultimately, their repeated hypocrisy and behavior towards others in fandom.

up until the time i unfollowed, i was noticing their posts on my feed—initially innocuous—grow increasingly negative and unproductive. sure, tv discourse and critique is healthy and good, i have my own grievances with live action daredevil. but soon enough, it had extended to fandom, fandom creations, perceived fandom failure to engage with their content, people or ideologies they found problematic irl or on social media, everyday inconveniences, etc. it was just... the same old predictable negativity and virtue signalling reminiscent of those who are chronically online, but lacking in self-awareness and emotional regulation skills.

moreover, i found their response to some sincere, good-faith asks to be disappointing. iirc, there was one situation where some anon was trying to learn about transgenderism, and was met with a disproportionate negative emotional response. it was not a good look, and coincidentally that ask response was later deleted. in another situation, they were kindly asked not to use rape-promoting language in describing certain individuals that they disliked, and their response was to deny it when the language was uninterpretable in any other way. i remember seeing these on my feed, and they gave me pause about being friends with this person.

which brings me to why i'm adding this response in the first place, because while i do not care what views this person holds or what they do on their own blog, what really grinds my gears is the betrayal and disingenuous behavior towards friends in fandom. this person was best friends with user @/pastafossa and seemingly the number one fan of the fic “the red thread”; they’d blog about it repeatedly. i started reading the story because of their marketing. imagine my shock at these posts which were made less than two years apart.

this person also went on to complain repeatedly about a perceived lack of tumblr engagement to their own followers. tumblr engagement is notoriously shit, but there's a difference between asking and expecting. asking is reasonable, entitlement is ugly. and i have to wonder how much of their off-putting nature contributed to less engagement.

not to mention i recently found out that they had joined fandom misrepresenting their age, engaging with me and other adults in fandom through our heavily adult fanworks before they had turned eighteen. they had started engaging with my content in early 2022 with their age listed as adult at that time, but the current age listed on their blog (as of march 2024) doesn't reflect a continuity. further digging on other sites confirms this. this behavior is violating, not to mention that they, at least at one point, had a strict minors-do-not-interact policy on their blog.

it's clear that they over-identify with their interests to an unhealthy degree through their repeated attempts to cull their interests and gatekeep topics that they perceive to be esoteric and cool. and while i agree that there are parts of the daredevil media and fandom that need to change, this level of denial and vilification of one's past and the community that supported them is characteristic of someone who's mentally unwell, and i would encourage anyone reading this—content creators, authors, and artists—to stay away from this person and to brace yourself for fringe fandom behavior like this on this website.

(please do not send hate to anyone.)

[isfjmel-phleg]

Why I think you guys might like Space Boy

Space Boy is a webcomic by Stephen McCranie. It's being gradually published in book form, but you can read the entire thing (as it currently stands--it's still in progress) online here.

It's set in the future in a world that's a little to the left of ours, and it begins with a girl named Amy, who lives on a mining colony in deep space. When her father loses his job, the family has to relocate to Earth. It's a long journey that requires them to be cryogenically frozen for the duration so they don't have to waste decades of their lives. Unfortunately, that means that Amy will wake up to find that she's now thirty years younger than her friends from home. It's a difficult adjustment, not only that but having to get used to a planet she's never been to before, but experiencing Earth for the first time is also cause for wonderment. Twinkling stars! Blue skies! Birds! Snow!

Amy has a form of synesthesia in which she perceives other people as having "flavors." Her mom is mint, her best friend is pineapple and jalapeno, etc. So at her new school, she is surprised to encounter a boy who, unlike anyone else she's ever met, has no flavor. None at all. Her curiosity will lead to even more mystery--no one knows who exactly this boy is, and there are a lot of rumors swirling around him--but also a friendship. Oliver has a lot of secrets, and as a result of her association with him, Amy will find herself caught up in a situation that's bigger and more dangerous than she could have anticipated.

And that's the plot, but what it's about is how to make sense of a world that seems chaotic and uncaring, how to find meaning when everything seems meaningless. It's about isolation and the need for human connection. It's about love. It's sweet and joyful and tragic and funny and poignant and suspenseful and gentle by turns. Although the story itself does not overtly address religion, the worldview is subtly, beautifully Christian.

A lot of what made me love this story was the characters. They feel very real. Amy is warm-hearted and guileless and determinedly optimistic, but she's got her share of struggles and low points alongside her sunniness. Oliver has a very different nature from hers, no less complex, and he's in the middle of a fantastic character arc. Their relationship, which progresses from friendship to romantic interest, is well-written; they bring out the best in each other, are mutually willing to sacrifice for the other, and are making genuine effort to be supportive and encouraging despite a lot of complications. I do not say this lightly: I ship it.

The supporting cast is excellent too, and many of these characters have their own subplots that connect to the main themes. This world feels well-populated with a variety of people that have their own stories and their own growth (...or not) to undertake.

The art is lovely, and it gets better and better as McCranie solidifies his style. There are fun unique design traits, like Amy's distinctive pigtails and pointy feet (her design was originally based off a teardrop motif!). The world is visually interesting, and I find this story to be as pleasant to look at as it is to read.

Anyway, I don't know if this is enough propaganda for you guys, but I'm willing to elaborate further if necessary. It's worth a try, you can read it for free, and it comes in small increments that make it easy to pick up whenever you have a free moment.

I enjoyed it a lot (the hiatus can't end soon enough for me), and maybe you would too!

[hedgehog-moss]

what are your favorite books in terms of prose? curious after you wrote about how many modern writers lack a sense for good writing, which i’ve also felt for years. so who do you think writes especially beautifully :-)

(Warning: long post ahead pondering what is perceived as beautiful prose in English vs French!)

The first books that came to my mind are the ones listed below, and it got me wondering why they were all by French authors, when I read a lot in other languages. I think even if you can read foreign literature fluently, it’s easier to detect & appreciate beautiful prose in your mother tongue, not just because you know it so intimately (so you know how many different ways there are to convey an idea and why this particular way was a great choice in this context), but also because languages develop their own criteria of what constitutes good writing, and we aren’t really taught about this—we're taught about our own language's criteria for good prose as if they were universal and objective, and it can be hard to move beyond that, especially when you're happily lost in a book and not actively trying to analyse the subtleties of the writing.

At the risk of giving the least hipster answer ever I really like Victor Hugo's writing because there are whole passages that sound so good I need to go back and re-read them to figure out what's happening in terms of plot (usually nothing, so it's ok), because I was too busy enjoying the flow of language the first time around (my favourite of his is The Man Who Laughs)

I read Pierre Assouline's 500-page book about the Book of Job even though I have little interest in biblical analysis or religious history, because there were sentences that were so pleasantly paced and balanced I just got carried by the momentum...

I love Annie Ernaux's writing in Les Années even though I'm not a fan of her other books, because the sentence construction and rhythm are so perfectly suited to the theme of the book.

I find Anatole France's books rather dull but the language is hypnotising (I talked a bit in this post about how his grammar is graceful as a dance...)

^ looking at this I realise I always come back to movement—grace, balance, flow, rhythm (not the pace of the story but of each sentence), and I know these are the criteria that French deems Terribly Important. I mentioned at the end of this post how (and why) English tends to be less interested in the motion of language and more in the imagery; in Goodreads reviews by native English speakers, beautiful writing is more likely to be described as ‘vivid’ than melodious. That's not to say English speakers can't appreciate (or prefer!) other kinds of prose, obviously, it's just, in broad strokes, what each language likes to focus on (at the present time.) There's a lot of appreciation in English for the kind of prose that you could easily make a moodboard out of—evoking sensations, colours, atmosphere—while French highly values the kind of prose that you can easily trace out in the air, with your hand rising and falling, tapping the beat, following grammatical twists and turns.

That's just my understanding, but it's something I notice a lot because I like to read French books along with their English translation (and conversely), to see how translators handle a tricky turn of phrase, or what I would have done differently. And it happens time and time again that the English translation lovingly preserves the imagery of a French sentence (even when a metaphor is difficult to translate) while coldly abandoning the rhythm and sound (even when there are easy English equivalents). Meanwhile French translators often completely ignore (or miss out on) subtle sources of mood and imagery because they are too busy picking the words and sentence structure that sound or flow best. It's really quite funny when you start to notice it.

I would have dozens of examples if I actually took the time to note them as I read, but just two recent ones off the top of my head—

French -> English

I'm currently reading Sylvain Tesson's La Panthère des neiges (The Art of Patience: Seeking the Snow Leopard in Tibet in English) (I needed a 'cold’ book during the heatwave...) At one point the author draws a comparison between religious worship and observing wild animals. For an example of what I was saying re: "tracing out sentences in the air", there's the sentence "La prière s'élève, adressée à Dieu." The two halves are 5 syllables - 5 syllables (6-6 if you read it formally.) The last word of the first half is "s'élève" — "rises". The last word of the second half goes down, since it's the end of the sentence. There's a clear rising and falling motion to it, which is also perfectly balanced in terms of syllables / rhythm; it makes a nice symmetric pattern in the air.

Now, the translation aspect—you've got the sentence "A genoux, on espère sans preuve." Then, shortly afterwards: "A l'affût, on connaît ce que l'on attend." The author is comparing the acts of kneeling (to pray) and lying in wait (to watch animals); so he chose phrasings and sentence structures that create a clear symmetry ("A genoux" / "A l'affût", 3 syllables, starting with the same sound, followed by a comma, then “on” + verb + clause.) The English translation? "To kneel is to wait in expectation without proof" [...] "Lying in a hide, the object of the wait is known."

This is bad!

Now the two sentences have different grammatical structures, they don't contain the same pronoun and don’t start with the same sound or phrasing even though the translator could have chosen to write "Kneeling" and "Lying" to preserve a tiny bit of the original intent. The translation obliterates the similarities of sound & rhythm in the grammar and word choice, which were here for a literary purpose—to link and compare two concepts.

On the other hand, every sentence in the book that's ripe with vivid imagery of wild animals is very conscientiously translated. In the next page, Tesson describes yaks as "taches de jais saupoudrant—", the English translator: "[the yaks] appeared as jade smudges scattered—" It's word for word ! The translator clearly thought visually striking phrases are essential and must be preserved as faithfully as possible, but phrases that are striking on an auditory / rhythmical level are less important (or less likely to be appreciated by an English-speaking reader.)

English -> French

I was reading The Bear and the Nightingale last year and I remember a contrast so blatant it made me laugh—the sentence "The ground was thick with snowdrops" in the original, was translated in French as "Le sol était parsemé d'une nuée de perce-neige." (The ground was scattered with a mist of snowdrops.)

In terms of French prose, this is good! In terms of faithful translation of English prose, this is bad! The translator went for the complete opposite when it comes to imagery—"thick" which evokes weight, vs. the weightlessness of "scattered" and “mist.”

But you know what? "Parsemé" and "perce-neige" have the same syllable count and nearly identical consonant sounds— [p]-[sə]-[m] / [p]-[sə]-[n]. It's pleasing to the ear and symmetrical. The “mist” bit might seem unnecessary (you could say “scattered with snowdrops”) but it was added because it contributes to this—rather than having two similar words right next to one another, they are now the last word in the first and second half of the sentence, making each half end on a similar sound, like poetry. The two halves "le sol était parsemé" and "d'une nuée de perce-neige" have 7 syllables each (with a mute e, the way most people would read it.) So the sentence sounds nice and is well-balanced, and what could be more important than musicality and balance?? Surely not imagery.

It's good writing in terms of what French deems important. It's terrible at preserving what the original English deemed important—"thick" associated with snowdrops as if the flowers were an actual blanket of snow—this evokes weight and quiet—the next sentence then opens with the trill of a bird, and the light, airy sound feels all the more vivid thanks to this clear contrast.

Which is obliterated by the French translation. But the French sentence flows nicely, and it really highlights what each language finds beautiful and essential, in terms of prose. I mentioned in this post that one of the reasons French takes up more room as a language is that it loves grammatical redundancy while English hates it—and I think it's because expanding or repeating a grammatical structure can add symmetry and balance, while it dilutes / drowns out the imagery. I don't think translators make an active choice all the time to overlook one aspect of the prose and pay more attention to another—I think as they mentally chew on the original text and try to come up with the best equivalent, they instinctively tend to fall into this pattern of favouring their language’s Good Writing criteria (probably because it’s assumed readers favour them as well.)

I should write these kinds of examples down in some Word doc, because they’re everywhere, and while there are so many writing styles and translation styles in both languages, there really is a pattern here—French being obsessed with balance and assonance, i.e. the beauty of motion & sound (which are twin concepts when it comes to language), how to make the flow of a sentence linger in your mind; English being obsessed with the beauty of imagery, the ways to make it 'pop', how to make an atmosphere linger in your mind.

Sorry for this very long answer that only briefly touched on your question, but I really love to observe the ways people use their languages so similarly yet differently!

[snailstriad]

Connections Between Novel and Current Milgram

Alright, it's theory time. While it's not confirmed yet, after Kotoko's music video, I am certainly sure that the two novels and our current Milgram are connected. Because their motives fit so well? Maybe some of you know about our "snails theory," right? If not or if you've forgotten about it, please take a look at it too! [in our twitter under the same name] (I must say that some parts of the theory (e.g the voices part) are wrong, but it is a theory after all.) To summarize, we think Haruka, Muu, Shidou, Amane, and Mikoto's beliefs and mindsets come from the first novel, and Yuno, Fuuta, Mahiru, Kazui, and Kotoko's mindsets and their thoughts resemble the second novel. First of all, please do not forget that we are not connecting crimes. Maybe you can see similarities but I, too, believe crimes and storyline different(not completely because of Touchi) from our current trials. This theory is only about mindsets. Well, let's start with 1st novel characters.

Our first prisoner, Gentle. He is a very emotional man to me. And killing a man, who is about to kill a woman. Of course this is pure coincidence but the thought of killing one life to save the others is bugging me. Because of this, I feel like there is a parallel between Gentle and Shidou.

Nervous. Her anxiety of being useless and a failure is similar to Muu actually. Another point that these two have in common is wanting to be appreciated. This desire for acknowledgment adds a psychological layer, suggesting how much external validation influences their thoughts and actions.

Considering that Close and Gentle are siblings, you might think I've lost my mind for what I'm about to say next, but yes, I believe Close and Amane have similar thought patterns. Let's look at the events this way: Close is someone who would do anything and everything to get the person she loves. However, after all the events, she no longer fears suffering. In fact, she wanted to experience pain and didn't seek help. This reminds me a lot of Amane. Maybe in the future, I'll prepare a separate theory for Amane, but I always felt that in that famous electric shock scene, Amane was afraid of pain, so it seemed like she was trying to comply with the rules. However, after her father's death, and of course, when she came to Milgram, she tried not to fear pain and even attempted to surpass the help she received.

The next prisoner, in my opinion, is probably the easiest to connect among all the characters: Two-Face. Initially, I had wondered besides the name, what similarities there could be with Mikoto, but then I realized I had overlooked the most important thing. Both of them were unaware of the consequences of their actions. As you know, Mikoto was completely oblivious to everything. On the other hand, Two-Face genuinely didn't know that what he was attempting could lead to an actual murder.

Our last character from the first novel is Torch. Firstly, when we saw less of Torch's story and mindset compared to the second novel, I couldn't liken him to anyone. However, later, with the release of the second novel, I understood that the reason Torch's (or Touchi's) life was saved was Milgram. Through Milgram, he found the love he had been seeking for a long time, thanks to Sumi. When I look at this child who has no one in his life, I see Haruka. Both are individuals without anyone and in need of love. Additionally, Milgram, who saved Touchi, also saved the first trial Haruka. The lack of self-confidence he had when he first arrived was overcome thanks to Milgram.

Our first prisoner in the second novel: Tatsumi. I might exceed my thread limit before finishing listing the commonalities with Fuuta. First, let's talk about how both perceive their crimes as a symbol of justice. For those who haven't read it, I'll give a brief overview of the common theme in the second novel: all the characters' crimes are based on a kind of murder trend called "justifiable righteous murder." When Touchi asks him what justice means, Tatsumi responds, "Justice is a social media hashtag." Most likely, you've already understood where I'm going with this: both share similar thoughts about the concept of justice. Another shared aspect is that both constantly question the concept of justice they possess.

Rina and Mei, since they share the same trial, I'll continue without separating them. In my previous theory, I talked about how Yuno and Mahiru are opposites of each other, yet still closely connected. The same holds true for Rina and Mei; they are almost opposites, but their attitudes towards all these events are still the same. It's similar to Yuno and Mahiru; Yuno has a very cold personality while Mahiru is the opposite. However, when it comes to Milgram and its rules, both pairs' thoughts align remarkably.

Alright, this was the person I found the most challenging to connect among all the prisoners: Tomonari. Because, honestly, when I first looked at him, nothing came to mind except the word "psychopath." However, if you look at Tomonari's actions, despite all the darkness within, he never tried to kill anyone until the very end, somewhat keeping his "true personality" hidden. You might get upset with me, I know, but I associate him with Kazui. As I mentioned, this theory is not about the crimes they committed. Kazui, too, chose to lie and conceal his true self until the very end of his life. In my view, they are similar because of these choices they made.

Finally, the last prisoner, Mako. First, I can't go without mentioning that, in Kotoko's MV, I saw Kotoko closely following the "Justifiable Righteous Murder" trend created by Mako (even looking at the news of Tatsumi's murder). Both of the characters are individuals willing to kill for the goals they have set in their minds. Additionally, both characters closely follow the workings of Milgram and manipulate it in line with their own interests.

[see-arcane]

one video game site describing the game's premise:

"In the trailer, Harker was perceived as a much more efficient and courageous vampire hunter, as opposed to the classic portrayal of Jonathan Harker in Bram Stoker’s books and films, including Dracula."

sir... sir... he literally killed dracula in the book...

You know.

I think this broke me just a little more. My camel back was already broken under so many straws, but I think this one made me collapse back in on myself.

So.

There's a lot to be said about the inspirational power of great works of media. Stories and masterpieces that spur wonder, love, and awe. The ones that give you a goal to aspire to in your own creative endeavors. The strive to match up to something great can do a lot.

But I'll tell you, friend. There is nothing quite as empowering as pure, unbridled spite. Just full-on loathing for every piece of half-assed, fan fictionified, self insert-riddled, character-botching, absolute shrug of a creative work that tries to hide under the disguise of a public domain title to cover for its inadequacies, and not only getting away with it because so much of the audience hasn't read the book, not only profiting off of it, but leaving a nigh irremovable stain on the entire pop cultural mind that is so hugely, categorically, monstrously Wrong, that the 'understanding' of the book and its characters is treated as offhand. Because 'everyone knows' it.

"Sure! Everyone knows Jonathan Harker doesn't have any real vampire hunting experience! That's all Van Helsing's shtick, what with him being the very definite for-real nemesis of Dracula, ha ha! Nice of these video game people to give the little guy a shot, eh?"

Just. Wow.

I am ready to make so, so much Jonathan Harker shit. Barking Harker? Sure. Absolutely. Doc's open right now. But maybe I'll do more. Love is my kindling, but bile is the fuel on the fire.

I can do Jonathan Harker as the Superior Dracula, complete with ripping Coppola's reincarnation love interest gimmick out his asshole and doing the Romantic Dracula Trope real justice. Why? BECAUSE IT'S ACTUALLY JONATHAN AND JONATHAN CAN PULL OFF THE WHITE-HAIRED PINING UNDEAD ROLE BETTER. How about that?

How about I make a whole ass script and screenplay for a Dracula series actually in line with the book? No creative license! No Dracula-wolf sex scenes or cheating fiancees or jealous suitors or dodging the el gee bee tee edges or turning Van Helsing into an anime man who saves the day! Just actual events that actually happened in the 125-year-old book that every modern adaptation is too cis-straight-scared to do! How about that?

How about I eat the heart out of every single Van Helsing-centric Monster Hunter series and anime and make it all about the Harkers, their friends, and/or their descendants? How about that?

How about the Harkers getting an eternal vampiric honeymoon after the Transylvanian trip goes bloodily south and they just go about their undead business forever and Dracula is nothing but a footnote in their story which he always was anyway? How about that?

HOW ABOUT I FLOOD THE WORLD WITH DRACULA CONTENT WHERE DRACULA IS NO MORE OR LESS THAN THE SADISTIC VILLAIN HE'S ALWAYS BEEN AND GETS HIS ASS KICKED AND HEAD CHOPPED LIKE THE LOSER BASTARD DESERVES???

HOW ABOUT THAT????

I WILL LIVE TO SEE A WORLD THAT REGISTERS EXACTLY HOW BADASS JONATHAN HARKER AND ALL OF THE HUMAN CAST IS, A WORLD THAT SEES DRACULA FOR THE UNDEAD UNDERWEAR STAIN HE ALWAYS WAS,

FOR I WILL CRAFT THAT WORLD MYSELF UPON THE BONES AND BLOOD OF THE INFINITE BASTARDIZATIONS THAT CAME BEFORE THEM!

I SHALL NOT SUFFER THESE ICE-COLD 'lol no I never touched the book but I kinda remember the wiki for the Coppola movie' TAKES FOR ALL ETERNITY. I WILL REWRITE THE PUBLIC OSMOSIS UNTIL ALL THEY KNOW OF DRACULA IS THAT JONATHAN HARKER KILLED HIM IN HIS DIRT BOX.

Anyway.

To all my Dracula Dailiers out there. I say again. Join me. While our little book club did wonders, the fact is, not a ton of people are going to ever bother with the dusty old novel. Spinoffs and sequels? Sure. But not (what they assume is) a dry old classic. Which leaves audiences and filmmakers caught in a perpetual profit and expectation-based loop.

People assume Dracula is Sexy-Suave Count Fuckula and that Mina hooks up with him while Van Helsing and [INSERT HUMAN NOBODIES HERE] are pushed to the sidelines. So that's what directors will keep churning out. Ditto for makers of books, comics, shows, and video games. It will just keep going in the same rut.

Unless we put some new blood out there. There are so many possibilities. So much that can be made to finally drag the spotlight away from the Count and give it back to the characters who deserve it.

So please. Please. Make that Dracula-derived thing you're unsure about. Even at its most indulgent and outlandish, you have read the book. And you know more about what you're doing than literally any so-called professional who's churned out their tired knockoffs of knockoffs. (Or the folks who take their opinions from the same.)

[burr-ell]

#this change in tlovm genuinely made me enjoy that episode and the whole series notably less #it's such an interesting insight into vex's character that's just been wholly removed #and in the case of tlovm actively had the focus shifted to be about vax and how he deals with his new connection to the rq #i like vax but respectfully he does not need more plot points focusing on him and we already know he gets his strength from vex #someone else mentioned it but it's also off that in tlovm the poachers were made into monstrous races #them being human and getting vex to lower her guard through kindness helps show why she's so distrustful #it wasn't just her father or syngorn it's been the whole world for a very long time#and her having this event happen right after they fled syngorn while vax would've encountered this sort of cruelty more gradually #adds more reason for her to keep herself closed off because she knows how easy it is for one mistake to make everything fall apart #part of me wonders whether it was wanting to avoid showing a teenager nearly get sexually assaulted #because that is very easy to get wrong and people couls easily get mad about it crossing a line #but they've shown percy get tortured and all manner of brutal deaths# and it does reframe vex's flirting and the way she controls how people perceive her #i forget how much this annoys me then I go and write an essay in the tags sorry

@enchantedmerry these tags on that Trinket post are spot-on (and a good point about the lizardfolk from @exandrian-moonlight), and I absolutely agree. You also pointed out the angle I didn't think about, which is how drastically this would have affected Vex's worldview.

While I didn't address it in the original post—as a disclaimer, I firmly disagree with the Vex stans who hate Vax and think everything he does is Liam trying to take the spotlight, because that perspective is abominably tedious. But I still absolutely find it frustrating that a moment that was originally only about Vex is retrofitted to also include Vax because...heaven forbid he not be there, I guess? And it's not for My Canon Right or Wrong reasons; there are some good and necessary changes to the story that have been made in both TLOVM and supplementary materials (if nothing else they have to avoid the red dragonborn in the room). But there just aren't any good reasons to include Vax and several good reasons not to, and while I am upset by this change, I'm also just baffled. Like, what's the point? Why do this at all?

[yesttoheaven]

SETTING SUN - joel miller x f!reader

"setting sun" describes the brooding and possessive thoughts of a man who is angered by his lover, a girl who is spending time with a boy she calls her friend. he is sickened by her perceived lies and says "the time to forgive is gone" as he believes she is cheating on him. the man ends the song with the ambiguous line "I'll be taking a life this evening when the sun sets" - it is not clear if he intends to kill the girl he is singing about, her friend, or perhaps himself.

— Do you know the best part of being here with you? And I'm not just talking about the sex... – Joel says, his voice low and husky as you trace patterns on his chest; the tips of your fingers sending shivers wherever they go. — I'll wake up tomorrow and look at you to admire your raw beauty in your most delicate and fragile state, and think to myself how much I love you. Because God... I really do. – He closes his eyes, letting out a long sigh.

You just absorb his words in silence for a long, long moment before resting your chin on his chest lightly and licking your lips, ready to say something, but then his eyes are open again and meet yours. For years he'd looked into those same doe eyes and found nothing but love, but now that's gone. Love evaporated from your pupils and was replaced, taken by someone else and he hates every second of it.

— You know what I admire? The fact you could take me as I am. You learned to deal with my bullshit. And sometimes I wonder how someone like me can deserve someone like you... I wonder because I'm this mess of a human being, and you're this beautiful person with this lovely smile and a million of unravel stories while I'm just this closed book you decided to open and discover.

— Joel, why did you...

— Hear me out now, you're gonna listen to me, like it or not. – He snarls, his face lined with disappointment and anger, but he never pulls away from you. He keeps his arm wrapped around your lower back, trapping your naked body against his. His other hand then comes up to your cheek, the rough tips of his fingers stroking your skin so tenderly. You were always the softness that Joel sought so much in this broken world. And you have him, heart and soul. — I knew that you were going to leave one day, but I thought I could make you stay... You were the one that told me to live in the moment, and I guess that I was trying to do just that. I didn't want to think about the end.

— There's no "ending" happening, Joel. – You leave the comfort of his arms and sit up in bed, your firm, stern voice echoing through the bedroom.

— I just wanted to think about what was actually in front of me. – He admits, looking at your bare back before running his hand down your spine, loving the way you squirm under his touch. — And you're in front of me right now, but not completely...

— How many times am I going to have to tell you that Richard is nothing but a friend or even less? I go on patrol with him sometimes. That's all.

Something snapped inside him. Hearing the other man's name leaving your mouth seems too much for Joel to handle, so he grips your jaw, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he brings your face close to his, your noses almost touching. You fall silent, caught off guard by his change in demeanor, but you still hold his gaze.

— Don't you dare lie to me. – He hisses through clenched teeth, looking deep into your eyes. Every frown line, every scar on his tired face seems all the more prominent because of the rage that consumes him. — After all we've been through, will you throw away what we've built? If that's what you really want, well then answer me darlin'... Would he face a damn bloater with his bare hands just to protect you? Is he ready to die for you?

At first you didn't know how to react, so you remained motionless and still, only an involuntary sigh leaving your lips. In this godforsaken world, you could easily count on your fingers how many people would put their lives on the line for you. And Joel Miller tops that list. Even knowing that you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, at the slightest sign of danger, he will always, without hesitation, do everything possible and impossible to keep you safe. This also includes fighting a bloater.

However, Richard would never put himself in the danger zone that way.

As if he can read your mind, Joel releases your face and looks away. He's losing you, he can feel you slipping out of his fingers, like a small bird being caught up in the wind. He tries to speak but no words will come. He wants to tell you that he still loves you, that you two can still make it work, but how can he say those things when the trust is so shaken? Does you even care anymore?

Maybe it's all too late.

His eyes narrow and he scowls, looking down at the bed in frustration as he tries to hold his annoyance in. When he speaks again, his voice is cold and bitter, and he looks up at you disdainfully:

— Have I been that terrible to you the last few years and you're finally ready to start looking elsewhere?

— No... – You mutter under your breath, then you clear your throat and shake your head eagerly, repeating with more intensity: — No, of course not. Where does all this distrust come from, Joel?

— From the fact that you don't seem to love me anymore! There is an age difference between us, it's true, and that does make things more complicated. But that's not the whole story and you know it. The way you talk to him... It's the way you used to talk to me. And you never act that way towards me anymore. You used to be so loving, so affectionate, but now I feel like you've pulled back. Like I'm just another person to you. – There is a pain in his voice unlike any you've ever heard come from him before, and it's painfully obvious that he's hurt to his very core. — I'm getting old, and I'm jealous. I worry that I can't make you feel the way you deserve to feel... – His voice catches in his throat a little. Joel sighs, and there is a look of shame on his face now, as if he knows what he's thinking is irrational, and he's embarrassed about it.

— So the problem is that I'm talking to a guy a few years younger than you? You can't be serious!

— Oh, so I'm just imagining it then? – He rolls his eyes and sighs loudly. — What do you expect me to think when you're practically flirting with a man half my age? What am I supposed to think when you act like you hardly even care about me?

That was enough.

You had listened and listened. He spoke and poured out his heart. His accusations.

In one swift movement you got out from under the sheet and climbed into his lap. Your hands touched his bare chest, harder this time, as you pushed his back against the headboard. A look of surprise passes over Joel's face when you do that. He stares at you, drinking in the intensity of your gaze and the warmth of your body against his. Your bare skin in full view now.

— You speak with such confidence. And you accuse me with that same confidence. – You lean in close to him and puts your nose to his ear, breathing lightly and softly whispering the last part. — Now that we're in Jackson, I know, I have a wide range of options, but... If I wanted to be with Richard then I wouldn't be here with you right now. I wouldn't go back to your arms every single night. And I wouldn't let you fuck me any way you want.

He sighs and closes his eyes, thinking carefully about the words that left your mouth. After a minute or two, he opens his eyes and looks at you sternly, and his hands move up to your hips, squeezing your flesh, feeling you. His gaze moved down your body, admiring every single curve, always enthralled by your raw beauty, until he found the watch on your wrist. A ghost of a smile crossed his lips at that moment. Joel never imagined taking that watch off his wrist one day, but he had his reasons for doing so. Whenever you were out on patrol without him by your side, Joel would put the watch on your wrist. That watch kept him alive for so long. Now he would be keeping you alive for him whenever he couldn't be there for you.

He holds you close in an embrace that is part affectionate and part desperate: almost as if he is afraid that you will suddenly disappear from his arms. He holds you close, and you can feel his chest rise and fall with deep, slow breaths. Joel slowly leans forward and brings his mouth to yours in a passionate kiss. His lips are firm and warm, and the pressure of his lips against yours is urgent and hungry. The kiss lasts for a long moment, and as he pulls away he looks at you with wide, haunted eyes. There is an ache in his chest, and a deep and desperate hope behind his eyes. You can sense the intensity of his emotions, all compressed into the brief moment that you two shared. Joel feels this heat in you, and he feels his heartbeat quicken once more.

He wants more.

But more of what? More of your love? More of your kisses? More of the way you make him feel? His body aches just from the feeling of you in his arms. He craves your touch, your warmth. His love for you feels like fire, burning hot from within him. He is overwhelmed.

— I don't know where I'm supposed to start, but... I'm sorry for the way I acted, hun.

Joel is all you have in this godforsaken world. Living in Jackson with him and Ellie is almost like a dream. So you really hope he's telling the truth and that from now on things will be better, after all, you're not going anywhere. Everyone has their ups and downs. He just needed some reassurance. That's all.

He reached around and put a hand on the back of your neck, leaning in to speak softly into your ear:

— I'll take care of it. You trust me, don't you?

You sigh with so much relief and hug him, resting your chin on his shoulder. You feel safe with him. He has you, heart and soul. You complete each other in different ways. Maybe that's why, as he holds you tightly in his arms, Joel has his eyes fixed on the armchair in the corner of the bedroom or more precisely on the gun under his jacket.

Now that the deed is done, he's just waiting for the night and the fading light of the setting sun.

Joel knows what to do.

a/n — i love this song with all my heart and i needed to write something so here it is. 🧡

[english is not my first language. I am getting help from google translator and he is not always a good ally, so I apologize for any typos or grammar errors]

[drdemonprince]

Have you read any of Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinhas works on disability? I find her stories especially about activism initiatives and groups like sins invalid but I've been completely thrown off by their use of "femmes" as an umbrella term. I'm worried I might be missing some context on the usefulness of the term because of my white context but ur recent post in response to a question abt womxn seemed like an insightful and confident assertion of the terms limitations so I wondered if you had any advice for navigating the kind of jarring experience of seeing someone use identity language in the pursuit of justice that feels super uncomfortable in its vagueness but being worried that your own internal prejudices might be the source of that discomfort.

It all comes down to discernment I think.

Fundamentally there's a degree of self-trust you have to build in your own ability to pool information and thought from a wide variety of sources, taking what is useful, releasing what is not, reflecting upon what challenges you in a meaningful way, and then synthesizing all of that into a greater understanding of the world that is distinctly your own, without finding it threatening that others are also doing the same thing with what information that they have and will always arrive somewhere slightly different.

I don't agree with their use of femmes. I have seen other activists of similar orientations use "femmes" to highlight the fact that a lot of organizing labor falls onto women, and I get what they're trying to do with the term -- and I think it's completely misplaced and that they'd have a better way of talking about it if their work was more informed by the contributions of transexual people, especially trans women. I think the perspectives of butch people and trans mascs are also largely absent from that analysis, particularly Black trans men.

But I don't expect anyone that I'm reading to be a perfect reflection of my own beliefs and my politics. I am the reflection of what I know and believe, I don't need anybody else to be that, and thus somebody having a slightly differing view or base of knowledge from me is not an existential threat.

Whenever I notice that someone does use different language from my own, I pay close attention to what they are meaningfully saying, and I ask myself whether their use of language reflects a set of biases that skews their overall worldview.

In many authors who use language like "women and femmes," I do very much see an exclusion of butch women, nonbinary people, trans men, and trans women, and a lack of awareness of how being perceived as masculine effects Black trans people. But this is revealed to me by their broader attitudes, the way they summarize and explain social problems, the examples they choose to give, and the overall deeper content of what they are saying -- not their choice of a single term or another. I take a person with a grain of salt if they use that term -- but I still take them.

On the whole there's a lot to be valued within that authors' work. And they also have areas where I think they are less prepared to be a reliable source of expertise. And the same can certainly be said for me. In general I think we need to stop searching for catchall gender terms -- especially those of us who are transmisogyny exempt and/or non Black and distinctly positioned to not really "get" the ways that we're failing at it, and that includes both Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinhas and me.

[iaf]

Listen– listen to me. Kenji and Ben are foils to eachother's character.

Let me explain, you have this kid who was neglected by his parental figure for the majority of his childhood. He was given too much "freedom" and materialistic possessions to keep him busy and away. This kid hides behind a facade of cool confidence and constantly feels the need to prove themselves to someone.

Then there's this other kid, who had a present parental figure that insistently urged them to branch-out. A kid that was fine with hiding from the world and living in their own comfort zone. An honest kid that is also easily frightened. He was uncertain with his abilities and not intrested in proving he was "cut-out" for the outdoors.

And as the story progresses, they go through different experiences. They change as individuals but ultimately remain as foils to one another.

Everyday, Kenji becomes more uncertain with who he is as a person. He begins to question who he is without money and status. He wonders what real family means. His loyalties are questioned and tested. This boy no longer knows what it is that he wants. Kenji is held back by the past (his father) and scared of what the future holds. It's all too confusing and unclear. He doesn't know where to go and what to do.

However, with everyday Ben also changes. He becomes more certain with who he is as a person. He accepts the new him, someone free of socialtal expectations. He gains confidence in himself and recognizes his abilities. He holds his ground and states what's on his mind (staying with Bumby). Ben let's go of the past and isn't afraid to embrace whatever mystery the future holds for him.

See season 1 for example. Kenji doesn't want to admit how scared he is, so he tries to act cool and take the lead. Ben however is sharing his doubts and is jumpy but he's honest about how he feels. The last two episodes of the season completely flips the script. Ben takes the lead and does something brave, suppressing his fears. But once Ben is gone, Kenji facade fully disappears. He's honestly states he doesn't know what he's doing.

There's also season 3. Kenji's taking more responsibility. He seeks leadership roles and starts thinking more collectively. Ben is still very much part of the group but is less of a team player (due to inner turmoil). He thinks more independently and silently struggles connecting with the others again.

This is probably why they butt heads so often, right? It's clear Kenji and Ben contrast eachother but they are not complete opposites, at least that's not how I perceive it. You see, these two boys are on the same journey of self discovery and I believe that they recognize that in eachother. Even if they struggle to stay on the same page most of the time, they still get along and one can only imagine how much more solid and understanding their relationship became post-rescue.