#i'm not entirely done yet but most of the nonsense has finally come to its end

[riftwalker-limbro]

gonna be a good friday night

[checkoutmybookshelf]

The Immortals Quartet

Time to chat about another of Tamora Pierce's beloved heroines and one of her early quartets. This is also the quartet that--in my entirely subjective experience--catches a lot of guff for its romance subplot. But we'll get to that. These are some of my favorite books of Pierce's, and I'm pretty sure that I read these after the Alanna and Kel books, although they were her second published quartet, coming before Kel. Let's talk The Immortals Quartet.

Veralidaine Sarrasri, unlike Alanna and Kel, is not originally Tortallen. Our girl is Gallan, and when we first meet her in Wild Magic, she is recovering from bandits sacking her village, burning down her house, and killing her family and all their animals. She's also desperate to hide what she thinks is a form of madness from every human she runs across, which gets really complicated when Numair starts teaching her how to harness her wild magic. And for just a hot second, can I say how much I love Numair in this series? He has just as much character as Daine and I am never NOT here for phenonemally powerful mages who are also basically oversized puppies.

Getting to watch Daine develop relationships with Numair, Onua, Alanna and George, the royal family, and the Queen's Riders is such fun, and so well done that when Daine finally feels safe enough to explain why she sometimes seems recalcitrant about her magic lessons it feels immensely earned. These relationships also become immensely foundational to the rest of the series, as does Daine's b-plot but still really compelling arc about hating Stormwings.

The Stormwing arc really finds traction in Wolf Speaker. In my experience, most people say that In the Realms of the Gods is their least favorite Immortals book, but for me, Wolf Speaker takes that prize. Not at all because it's a bad book, but for me it's the most forgettable of the four. Daine and Numair are investigating sus nonsense in Fief Dunlath, and there are blood rain and shape shifting/mind riding shenanagins and Daine begins to have holes poked in her Stormwing prejudice courtesy of Rikash Moonsword. It's a fine book, and the subplots with the wolves and ogres are compelling, but for whatever reason this book does not stick in my head.

The book that does stick in my head and is unequivocally my favorite of this quartet is Emperor Mage. This book follows the Tortallen peace delegation to Carthak, and geopolitical and divine shenanagins ensue. Dain's relationships with Kaddar and Ozorne--and particularly how Numair and Ozorne's history colors both those relationships--are again central to the plot. The Graveyard Hag is also actively throwing broom handles between the spokes of Daine's wheels by giving Daine the power to bring skeletons to a seeming of life.

That gets absolutely amazing because the Graveyard Hag wants Daine to reanimate human skeletons, but Daine makes the PHENOMENAL point that humans forget literal walking nightmares really fast. What humans don't recover fast from is when you literally raze their centers of government to the ground, including food stores, records of all kinds, and the freaking treasury. So instead of making human skeletons dance through the streets, Daine reanimates DINOSAUR SKELETONS and wrecks absolute shop. It's amazing, I wouldn't change a thing.

The other thing I love about this book is Numair yo-yoing between being an experienced intelligence operative and black robe mage and a complete idiot. He is tangled up in plans to free slaves and overthrow Ozorne and yet he still somehow manages to forget all of that and swing at Ozorne when he suggests that Numair is banging Daine. Numair. Honey, sweetie, friend, you cannot be THAT much of an idiot. And the best part is, at least three other characters call him on that idiocy. This book is fantastic.

In the Realms of the Gods is the book that, in my experience, gets the most flak from fans. My experience has been that people object to the student/teacher dynamic between Daine and Numair deveoping into a romance and the significant age gap between the two characters as the romance develops. People also seem to feel that this book is too long and drags in places. I don't tend to find that the book is draggy and long, but that tends to be a very "your mileage may vary" thing for readers.

In terms of the age gap and student teacher dynamics, I want to start off very clear: In real life, student-teacher relationships are never ok, are always predatory, and I do not support. However, to paraphrase Red from OSP, not every book that shows things that aren't unequivocally morally good do not need a "Do Not Try This At Home" sticker on the cover. Books don't have to be morally instructive, they don't have to show the best possible healthy relationships, they just have to be interesting. And honestly? I find Daine and Numair interesting. On top of that, Tamora Pierce is aware enough as an author that Daine and Numair actually do (however briefly) discuss the potential pitfalls of the age gap between them. They don't address the student/teacher thing, but then I wouldn't expect them to because that's not the relationship they have in this book. They are more partners than student/teacher. All this to say, I can understand why people dislike this romance, but I'm not here to throw shade, because honestly I enjoyed it.

I also enjoyed meeting and learning about Daine's parents, exploring the literal Realm of the Gods and all the wibbly wobbly timey wimey chaos shenanagins, and the conclusion of Daine's Stormwing arc. (And how dare Pierce make me cry that hard over Rikash. That was uncalled for.)

Overall, I deeply loved this quartet, and Daine is a welcome change from the very martial Alanna and Kel. She also represents an evolution of the magic systems in Tortall, which was really compelling and refreshing.

[rwbyremnants]

This is the epilogue! It's been a long, strange trip, but I finally completed this one! I'm going to get a bit sentimental and long-winded about Rooster Teeth under the cut, but (so you can skip it: just CTRL+F and search for "Chapter 60") up here I'll just say thanks so much for reading. I hope you like these last few surprises!

WARNING: ROOSTER TEETH RAMBLING. You don't have to read this, it's not about Princess And The Dragons! You have been warned.

So as everybody probably knows by now, Rooster Teeth is on death row, and the fate of RWBY is totally up in the air. If you're learning about it this way… I'm very sorry; here's an article with more details. TL:DR, Warner Bros Discovery swallowed their parent company a while back, and that led to some cool collabs like Justice League x RWBY, but…

I'll keep this rant brief. David Zaslav is a callous corporate jerk that hates art, and has no business being in charge of a content creation company when all he cares about is money. His body count is rising (Batgirl, Final Space, Adult Swim Games, etc), and I hope he generates enough hate that he gets fired and never finds work in his field again. That is all.

Anyway, because RT couldn't turn a profit in the 1.5 years since they became part of WBD, they're getting shut down in a couple months, and they're going to try to shop its various properties around to other companies. Crunchyroll is a good candidate for RWBY, since they already aired volume 9, but nothing is certain yet at all. It's entirely possible we will never see a volume 10 - or it might be in some other format, like a comic book. All we can do is wait and see.

I found RWBY through a friend in 2014, which led me to RT as a whole. It's one of several things that changed my life that year - most of them for the better. I spent a lot of time with Achievement Hunter and Rage Quit videos, the RT Podcast and Always Open… went to see Lazer Team (and RWBY volume debuts) in actual theaters. I wish I had been able to make it to RTX, but it was too far away for me to be able to get there. At one point, it was a pretty huge part of my life. Then, like with most things, I sort of gravitated away, though I kept going back for the podcasts, and kept up with RWBY of course.

But I knew RT might not last that much longer when it was announced that Always Open was cancelled for a second time, and that RWBY Volume 10 still wasn't even greenlit. There were too many controversies (we don't have to get into those). Some of the founders were already gone, I hardly ever saw the people I was most fond of onscreen. For the first time in almost a decade, I cancelled my First membership, because it felt like my favorite content wasn't coming to the platform anymore… and I'm broke. I feel a little bad, of course, but I think we all kind of knew that they might not survive the changing landscape of streaming content. The minute they became part of WBD, their lack of profitability spelled the end.

Sorry, I'm all in my feelings about it, and I don't want to make the comments or the end of this fic all about RT, but I felt like I couldn't post a new chapter of a RWBY fic without at least addressing the situation, and giving my own history and perspective on it. This is just the state of the fandom, and I'm really sad and depressed about it, and wishing that something could have been done. But at the end of the day, it's actually pretty amazing that a bunch of drunk guys created a company in their bedroom that lasted 21 years and gave us a hundred shows. Just sucks it had to end because of mergers and nonsense, but I guess nothing lasts forever.

Thanks for listening, if you did; no shade if you didn't. I'm just really going to miss those guys and that content-creation family always being there to provide amusing and comforting content, like friends you could hang out with whenever you wanted. Thanks for all the memories, RT, and for being one of my safe spaces when I needed one.

-NBW

----------------------------------------------------

=Chapter 60

  Weiss Schnee took a deep breath, eyes closing as she let the aromas of roasting turkey and gravy fill her nostrils. This was always her favourite part about Thanksgiving. Sure, pumpkin pie and potatoes were wonderful dishes, but the centerpiece was the artfully-prepared bird, without a doubt.

Especially with Kali cooking it this year. Their chef had been lost in the family scuffles, and it made no financial sense to hire another when they could all learn to pitch in a little more instead.

Besides, Willow seemed to have turned over a new leaf. Since she had no head for business, she allowed the interim director to stay on and only asked for updates from him once a week – with Kali in attendance, naturally. That was enough to ensure that nothing unscrupulous was going on beneath her nose. Meanwhile, that left Weiss's mother with little else to do besides taking care of house and home… which suited her in a way Weiss never would have expected. Though it had begun as penance for years of absentee parenting, now it was more like a calling. A place she felt she belonged.

“Ready to head down?”

The princess leaned a little more fully against Yang as they lounged in their bed. Their bed… even this many weeks later, it still sounded strange to think of it that way. “Just about ready.”

“Why?” she insisted with a fierce grin, a hand drifting up to turn Weiss’s face up to look at her. “Careful, Schnee, or I’ll think you caught… Xiao Long Madness.”

“Xiao Long Madness?” Her hand pressed into the center of her chest as she heaved a theatrical gasp. “What on earth could that be?”

“Well… it starts out slow.” Two fingers began to tiptoe up along her thigh. “You don’t even know you’ve got it until it’s creeping up on you.” The hand smoothed along her stomach through the soft material of her party dress, and Weiss had to suppress a shiver. “Makes you a little tingly, breathe faster… heart beating louder and louder…”

“Yang, you little…” Pushing her hand away with a giggle once it reached her breast, she admonished her, “We have to get to the table! Without messing up our clothes! Just grab those earth pads so we can join the others.”

Chuckling with her, the Dragon turned and got up from the bed, snatching up two pairs of shoes from the floor. “Alright, alright. Even though both our parents know? What, they’re going to be shocked that we got a little frisky today, too?”

“That isn’t the point! I want to be presentable for our families, and the Belladonnas!” Her brief indignation subsided as Yang started lovingly putting her heels on. “Oh… I know, I’m being silly. But can we please have a lovely, respectable family dinner? Just this once, for the holiday?”

“Of course,” she promised with an earnest tone, smiling up at her before she kissed Weiss’s other foot. “Princess Toes.” Then she slid the other heel on and grabbed for her own – but Weiss snatched them away. “Hey, what gives? I mean, you actually got me into a dress and now you’re trying to keep me from-”

“Shush.” Weiss returned the favour, sliding the very un-Yang-like heels on while Yang’s cheeks went the tiniest bit pink. They always did when she was doted on since it was such an uncommon occurrence for the bruiser; Weiss adored that. And she adored being the only one trusted to be sweet to her in that way.

“Mkay, Weiss. Now I’m all dolled up for you. Like a pig wearing lipstick.”

Sighing, she swatted Yang on the arm. “Don’t be stupid. You are a beautiful woman. Being strong as an ox doesn’t change that.”

“If you see me that way, then that’s all that matters.” They shared a brief kiss, humming against each other’s lips before they broke apart and stood. “Let’s go strap the ol’ feedbag on.”

“How charming,” she deadpanned.

As they walked past Weiss’s dresser, she glanced at the framed photograph on the wall. There they were: the Dragons. Every last living member, with the youngest arranged in the front. Even if it was a little incriminating, she had decided in the end that it was much more important to the little gangster princess to have this memento than it was to “play it safe” - especially now that the only Vale citizen who would have thrown a tantrum about its existence was long dead.

Emerald and Cinder with their arms around each other. Ilia hanging off Blake despite how she was rolling her eyes. A grinning Coco who still had Velvet on her arm instead of lost to another continent – the picture had been taken with her camera, after all, set on a timer. Even Salem was smiling, albeit in an irritated and resigned way. Happiness in a wooden frame.

“You coming?” Yang asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” she sighed as she tripped after her girlfriend into the hall. “Hold your horses.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my snooty girlfriend?”

“HEY!”

Downstairs, Blake, Ilia, and Whitley were all seated in the living room, chatting politely about the weather and other surface topics. Though her brother wasn’t thrilled terribly to know the Dragons, he had seemed to accept it – and to accept them as humans rather than foul beasts that were beneath him.

“Hey, good lookin’,” Blake bade her.

“Good evening.” Weiss actually curtsied, and Ilia giggled. “I'm excited. Is that silly?”

“Maybe a little. But I think we're allowed to be a little silly after the Autumn we've had.”

True enough. Weiss flashed a tight smile before she turned toward the kitchen.

“Watch that gravy!”

Raven's hands quickly moved toward the stove while Kali hastily crimped the edges of her pie. The latter was poised and pristine; the former, a sweating nervous wreck. But she was trying. Most of the dishes were already arranged on the counter, kept warm by potholders and waiting to be served.

“Oh my God,” Yang muttered in Weiss's ear. “Where's Rod Serling? Because I think we just entered The Twilight Zone.”

“The what?”

“Oh, it's a new show. Don't worry about it. Just meant watching Raven really cook is like science fiction.”

Meanwhile, Willow at last noticed they were standing there and waved them over to the dining room. “Hey, girls! Come help me set the table.”

They did as they were told. Mrs. Schnee was humming and cheerful, eyes full of light as she made sure all the silverware was properly placed, each napkin neatly folded.

“You're really excited, aren't you, Mother?”

“Ohhhh yes,” she told her immediately, grinning from ear to ear. “Very! It's our first big dinner with everyone together, isn't it? Our ragtag little family. And it already feels more like…”

When she didn't finish, Yang prompted, “Like?”

“Like a real Thanksgiving. Far more than the past few years.”

“I know what you mean,” Weiss said as she placed the last few forks. “You weren't yourself, and Father was… well.”

But Willow brushed it off with an elegant hand. Still no calluses forming from her sudden uptick of housework, but they would, eventually, if she didn't keep up conditioning them. Pampering herself. Honestly, Weiss had no idea if she would go one way or the other.

“All in the past. We're starting fresh, aren't we, Weiss?”

“We sure are,” she said immediately, beaming back at her mother. Proud of her progress and new outlook on life. “Annnnd… I think the table’s ready. What's next?”

“Not much.” A bell sounded throughout the house, and her eyes lifted. “Oh, could you see who that is? I think I should help Raven and Kali.”

Her daughter obeyed, moving through the living room where Whitley was just standing. She waved him back down and pulled the door wide.

And found herself face to face with such a haggard, unenthused face that she instinctively took a step back. The man's ominous eyes almost looked through her. Her fight or flight instincts were starting to kick in, but she knew she shouldn’t literally attack someone who had done nothing more than come to her front door – not without further provocation.

“U-um…”

“Hey!” From around his back popped Ruby's cheery face, and she added a little wave. “Sorry we're so late; Grumpy Gus didn't wanna get ready.”

“I was ready,” Qrow growled as he pushed past Weiss without a word of greeting. “You didn't like what I was wearing.”

With a dramatic sigh, Ruby followed, stopping to hug Weiss. Penny was close on her heels, freckles seeming to glow with excitement as she hefted a casserole dish. Yang was next in line for hugs while Qrow seemed magnetically drawn to the wetbar in the corner.

“U-um!” came from the door as Weiss tried to close it. Pulling it wide revealed a very flustered neighbour. “Hello again!”

“Pyrrha?! What are you doing here? I thought you would be sitting down with your folks right about now!”

The athlete shrugged, cheeks rosy as she fidgeted in her lovely golden-hued frock. There was clearly an internal struggle playing out behind her bright green eyes, which remained mostly pointed down at her black pumps. “Well… I just wanted to wish you a happy Thanksgiving! Before we all dig in! So… so now I have! And, well, bye!”

However, as she turned to stride down the steps and away from the house, Weiss jogged after her. “Wait!”

“Yes?” she asked as she turned.

“There's something else, isn't there?” No immediate answer. “Come on. What's a best friend for if she can't help a girl through thick and thin?”

After a brief internal debate, the redhead let out a long sigh. “Jaune is coming to dinner.”

“Really? That's fantastic news!” Again, Pyrrha hesitated, so Weiss asked, “It's… not fantastic news?”

“Well… ordinarily, yes. But Cinder and Emerald are already there.”

“WHAT?!”

“SHHHH!” she hissed at her friend, green eyes wide. “I didn't think I would get as close to him as I have since the dance, and… I had already invited them before he asked me to homecoming! Then I forgot, and they showed up with a whole ham, and it would have been so rude to turn them away…”

Weiss laid a gentle hand on her arm. “Relax, okay? I'm sure everything will be fine.”

“But you know how Cinder is around boys! She hates them! And I know she has good reason, but Jaune is very important to me, and… and I don't want anyone to have an unhappy holiday thanks to me!”

“They won't. I promise. You are the nicest host, and the sweetest friend. And Emerald and Cinder have each other now; they're much less bitter and unhappy.”

“Oh… I know you're right. Thank you. And I shouldn't get flustered every time they try to kiss me anymore, I- I have to get used to that eventually, don't I?”

“Of course!” she chirruped with a patient smile. “Just keep rebuffing those advances; they will get the message.”

At those words, her childhood friend fell silent. Seconds ticked by while she squirmed. Then she whispered, “It may be too late for that plan.”

“What? I mean… what do you mean?”

“Well, if I were to rebuff their advances, I probably shouldn't have let Cinder steal a little kiss at homecoming.” When her fellow paper-shaker only gaped, the red-faced track star’s face grew yet redder. “Or behind the malt shop last weekend. Or just before I walked over here.”

“PYRRHA NIKOS!”

“I'm sorry! I told you, she makes me feel… swept away,” she breathed with a shy smile. “Even though I'm more attracted to Jaune, like him more and get along with him so well, I don't dislike Cinder… and she's strong, and confident, and beautiful…”

A laughing Weiss reassured her, “You don't have to explain anything to me. I have my own similar arrangement with a blonde and a brunette, so why on Earth would I throw stones in my glass house?”

“But what do I do? Poor Jaune has no idea women go around with other women as much as we do – a-and what about Emerald? Ordinarily I would be concerned about her feeling jealous, but she watches Cinder tease me – encourages it! That seems so dirty, and that's without the things they threaten to do to me if I let them!”

“Holy moley,” she breathed. “Pyrrha! You're a Dragon in sheep's clothing!”

That smile was still shy, but also a little excited. “Am not. But the kissing is… women's lips are so soft!”

“Aren't they?” Both girls sighed dreamily, then giggled. “Your secret is safe with me, but I think the sooner you explain all this to Jaune, the less bad it will be in the long run.”

“You… are probably right. But not now. I don't want to ruin the holiday for my parents.”

“Of course. You should probably get back.” As Pyrrha nodded, she tilted her head and asked, “What did you tell them about Cinder and Emerald, anyway?”

“Just that they're new friends of yours, and mine. And that they had no family to dine with. It's true, after all.”

Weiss nodded sagely. “And you wanted them to have a big slice of Pyrrha pie for dessert.”

“Mmhmm! I thought it would be… very- oh, you're so mean to me!”

“Maybe,” she cackled, leaning closer. “Or maybe I'm jealous because I want some for myself.”

And without waiting for a response, Weiss gave her a quick peck on the lips. Just a fun little tease without any deeper meaning behind it. Pyrrha was too startled to respond until Weiss's impish grin began to slip a notch – and then she laughed, loudly and freely.

“Oh Weiss! I think we both have our hands full enough as it is! But… thank you. For more than just now, for so, so much.”

Curtsying playfully, she giggled, “And thank you, madam. It is Thanksgiving, after all; we should be expressing our gratitude.”

“True!” As she skipped away, Pyrrha sang out over her shoulder, “Happy Thanksgiving!”

“You too, best friend!”

When she re-entered the living room, it was to a highly stressful scene. Qrow and Raven were seated one each upon the armchair and the couch, ranged across from each other, and if ever the phrase “glaring daggers” applied, it would be to those two siblings.

“You look good, sis,” he rumbled with a poisonous smirk. “Really got some color in your cheeks for once. What's your secret?”

“Staying away from things that are hazardous to my health. Like you.”

“Wow,” Penny breathed from Ruby's side, as surprised as anyone at how venomous they were toward each other. From her, Weiss glanced around at the various uncomfortable guests and eventually spotted Yang standing in the doorway of the kitchen, indecisive.

“Ooooh, temper temper. Still haven't figured out that's what made Taiyang ditch you, huh?” When Raven started to sit forward as if she would attack, he raised up both hands, palms out. “Easy now. Didn't come here to pick a fight, just came to eat.”

Teeth clenched hard enough to grind corn into meal, she hissed at him, “Funny way of showing it. Then again, you never did know when to quit.”

“Seems to me like I knew exactly when to quit. Before the Dragons turned into the Bulldyk-”

“Who would like a drink?” Weiss called out in a voice far too high to be natural. A few of her peers turned in her direction, but Raven and Qrow didn't budge at all. “Anyone?”

“May I have a lemonade?” Penny said in her usual oblivious-but-pleasant tone.

“Alright, look,” Yang finally sighed as she walked a little deeper into the room. “You guys hate each other; we get it. But it's Thanksgiving, and there are more people here than just you two chowderheads. So can we just… put that on the back burner until tomorrow? Please?”

Silence reigned for a long few seconds. Then Qrow heaved himself to his feet. “Think I'll take you up on that drink, Schnee.” He returned to the wet bar to refill his glass. Luckily, it seemed like the breaking of their staring contest gave Raven the right to let herself relax, and she ran her hand over her hair.

“Are they always like this?” Ilia asked in a soft murmur, mostly to Blake.

“Raven, yes. I have no idea about him, I haven't seen him more than once in my whole life before now.”

Before Ilia could form a response, an “Ahem” came from the doorway leading into the dining room. Kali stood there with a polite smile on her face, hands clasped in front of her stomach; the picture of a polite hostess.

“I believe dinner is served. If you will all come through and seat yourselves, we would love to begin.”

Raven was the first to exit, seemingly to give herself at least a few scant seconds without her brother in the same room. Then her daughter followed soon afterward, and everyone else stood and began to follow the others.

“Wheeee,” Ruby deadpanned as she led Penny inside.

The spread look amazing. Kali had definitely outdone herself, and somehow Willow and Raven had not ruined all her good work with their awkward attempts to help. Turkey, dressing, casserole, fresh hot buns, and gleaming red cranberry sauce were already weighing down the table. Weiss's beaming mother stood behind the chair at the head of the table, waiting for the others to sit before she seated herself.

“Thank you all for coming,” she said in a quiet, nervously excited voice. “I know this will probably be strange, as some of you hardly even know who I am, much less have met me. But I'm happy to meet you all and welcome you to my home.”

“I am happy to be here,” Penny replied brightly as if she were being directly addressed. But Willow only smiled right back at her, and the girl grinned from ear-to-ear.

“Before we dig in, I'd like us all to go around the table and say something we are thankful for from this past year.” One or two groans sounded from the guests, but most of them were polite enough to keep their desire to eat right away to themselves. “Would anyone like to start?”

As she brought in a dish of beans, Kali said, “Go on, Willow dear. Set us an example.”

“Oh, very well.” As Whitley sat at her left, Weiss at her right, she composed herself for a moment. “I’m thankful for my family. My real family – everyone here, even if some of us are just meeting tonight. And that my eyes are open enough for me to appreciate that now.”

After a moment or two of silence, a few people nodding along, she turned to Whitley. Starting, he said, “Ah. Well, I suppose I’m thankful that all the nastiness is behind us. This year has been unpleasant but… well, looking around here, I must admit we’re coming out the other side.”

As Penny clapped for him, and a few others stifled laughter at her clapping, Kali spoke up, “I’m thankful for a certain little princess for bringing us all together. If not for her, this might have been an easier year, but a lot less interesting.” And she raised her water glass to Weiss, who waved her off – despite her cheeks tinting pink.

“Same here,” Blake agreed with a big smile. “She really shook things up in the best of ways. Still a little weird that I get to be friends with her. But thanks, Weiss.”

“And you could probably guess I’m going to say thanks for helping me finally get Blake’s attention,” Ilia sighed resignedly as the others chuckled. Hands were definitely being held under the table, and Weiss had a hard time not squealing with secondhand glee. Then they all turned to look at Qrow.

“Huh? Oh, uh… skip me.”

Ruby nudged him hard. “No skipping!”

“Fine. I’m thankful for this dumb squirt.” He ruffled her hair aggressively, and she laughed – even if she was hastily patting her hair back into place right afterward. “That A-okay, kiddo?”

“Sure.” Then she cleared her throat and said, “I’m grateful for… well, a lotta stuff. But I can’t pick between the two big things: Penny asking me out, and…” Her eyes began to water. “And getting my sister back. They’re b-both pretty outta sight.”

“Nah, you should pick Penny,” Yang said with a wistful smile. “I ain’t that special.”

“Don’t say that! You’re my sister and you’re amazing!”

“Okay, okay,” Raven interrupted them with a sigh. “Break up the happy-fight, girls. Let’s hurry this along so we can all eat. Penny?”

Blinking her huge green eyes, the freckle-faced girl chirruped, “Oh! Well, I am thankful for Ruby, of course. And her family – which seems to be all of you! And for the food we are about to eat. Amen.”

“Amen,” Whitley muttered automatically, even though everyone else was blinking in confusion. Weiss wasn’t sure at which point Penny’s thanks had turned into grace, but it was even stranger to call attention to it. So no one did.

“And I’m thankful for Yang putting up with me,” Raven said simply. “Go on.”

But Yang wasn’t about to let that slip past. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“My attitude. I’ve…” Her sigh was weary, her glare burning a hole into the table. “I’ve been a terrible mother. Nobody has to tell me,” she said over the handful of protests. “Just because I did my best, tried to make my kid tough enough the world wouldn’t eat her alive, doesn’t mean my best was very good. But I think…” Her sharp eyes flicked up to Qrow, waiting for some kind of scathing comment.

“No, no, go on,” he told her smoothly. And though his face might have been slightly smug, he didn’t goad her any more than that.

“I think Willow’s been good for me. I’ve done worse than her and she’s trying so hard to… fix what’s wrong. Have to be a real dope to not try the same thing. Guess that’s what I’m glad for this year.” Then she flung at her brother, “So you can sit on that, Jack.”

“Gladly,” he rumbled, lowering his glass of something strong-smelling and regarding her evenly. “I ain’t no prince, either, Sis. Louse everything up every day. All we can do is our best to make up for it.”

While Raven was busy blinking at the almost-nice sentiment from her estranged sibling, Yang cleared her throat and stood up. That already surprised Weiss before she even started talking – and then she surprised her even more.

“So I’m not that good at speech-making,” she chuckled, scratching the back of her neck. “Or wearing heels. But I’m gonna do both at the same time, I guess.

“Life has been pretty kooky since this princess fell in my lap. Honest, I thought she would snub me and that would be that – or that I could have a little fun before I got the cold shoulder, maybe. But this amazing, beautiful, talented, strong knock-out…” For a moment, Yang just laughed, trying to figure out what else she was saying. “She changed me. Changed my whole life in a good way, and I can’t even imagine what I would do without her now. And I don’t wanna. So yeah. Thanks, Weiss, for taming this Dragon.”

Weiss was just smiling tearily up at her proud, cocky features that were currently gazing right back at her with a megaton force of love, when most of the others began to clap. Starting, she covered her face to hide her blush, but then she felt Yang’s lips gently pushing into the back of her hand.

“I mean it,” she whispered as Weiss cooed. “On the hook for you, Schnee.”

“My sweet angel,” Willow breathed softly, beaming at both of them.

“Oh, stop it, all of you,” Weiss blustered, but the pink-cheeked grin somewhat undercut her words. Then she spoke up a little louder. “As for me… oh, I don’t have anything.”

“You don’t?” Blake asked incredulously, folding her arms over her chest and smirking. “You? Nothing comes to mind for the girl who can normally talk the hind leg off a mule?”

“Everything does. It’s everything. I mean, other than a few unpleasant things I had to witness, but… I wouldn’t trade this year for the world. I have a real family now, and some of them are even my actual blood relatives. So thank you, God, for ALL of this.”

“Amen,” Whitley said again a little more firmly than before, and this time Yang snorted a little.

“Amen!” Willow put in brightly. “And with that, let’s dig in!”

“Thank GOD for THAT!” Ruby burst out, and the others all giggled. For a tiny little slip of a girl, she had a voracious appetite.

-----------------------------------------

    Dinner was everything the Schnees had desperately hoped it would be and more. Though Raven avoided speaking to Qrow at all costs, the upside of that was that she actually didn’t resist all of Kali’s attempts at conversation. They would likely never be the best of friends again, but it was a start toward reconciliation that Weiss found extremely heartening.

However, there were a couple of hiccups. Kali and Raven got into a very terse argument about the best path for Yang’s future that didn’t particularly go anywhere. Ilia spilled gravy all over Qrow, earning her a strong glare; Willow hurried him upstairs and gave him some of Jacques’s clothes to change into while they were washing his shirt, which fit at least well enough. Whitley made the mistake of casually mentioning that his sister was a “deviant” in a room full of such deviants, though he hastily apologised and insisted he did not mean any offense when he noticed all the eyes glinting with doom. Still, all in all not a bad evening.

“I couldn’t eat another bite,” Yang burped as she helped them move all the dishes to the sink. “But I want to! It’s all so good, I haven’t even tasted Kali’s food that was this good before! And hers is always the bee’s knees!”

“Flatterer.” Kali herself came in behind her and put the empty casserole dish on the counter, then pulled Yang in for a little cheek-kiss. “But keep it coming; I might save you an extra piece of pie.”

As Yang laughed nervously, her mother strode over and said, “Hey, cut that out. Stop tryin’ to be my kid’s mom. That’s my job.” And then she kissed her on the cheek, as well, leaving a very shocked Yang glancing between them. As if waiting to have to break up a fight should it flare up from nowhere.

But all Kali did was smile and say, “Good.” Then she started scrubbing a pot vigorously, humming a light little tune.

“Um, let us do those,” Yang volunteered. “You cooked, it’s the least we can do.”

“Oh, that’s alright.”

“No it’s not. You do so much, Mrs. B, and everybody takes it for granted. I’m not gonna anymore.”

As Yang moved into position in front of the sink, Kali pressed a hand to the center of her chest and fluttered her eyelashes. “My my myyyy, Weiss, you certainly have found yourself a stand-up woman. Good thing for you I’m-”

“Watch how you finish that,” Raven warned. “Talking about my daughter there.”

“That I’m… not twenty years younger,” she finished slyly. “And I will leave it at that, alright?” When Raven nodded curtly, she rolled her eyes and tittered as she moved to stand beside Weiss. “Come with me.”

Confused, she let herself be taken to the dining room again, which was mostly empty. Everyone had moved to the living room by now. “Yes?”

“I thought I should tell you sometime when we had a moment; there’s been too much going on before now.” Glancing around, Kali whispered, “Salem has agreed that we’re rebuilding Shopkeeper’s. The money will come out of a nest egg she had set aside to renovate her own home and to retire on; she won’t be able to do those things now for a while yet, but at least we’ll all have a home again.”

“That’s fantastic news!” When Kali only frowned, she asked, “Or is it? What’s wrong?”

“Well… to be frank, I’m a little disappointed you aren’t looking at my chest.”

“Huh?!”

Smirking, she whispered, “My hands were wet when I held one to my chest a moment ago, so now the top of my dress is all damp. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice! I must be losing my touch.”

Unable to help briefly glancing at the more pronounced outline of Kali’s bosom, she stamped her foot and hissed, “You stop that! I thought there was a real problem!”

“How is this not a ‘real’ problem? My looks are fading!” The back of her hand flew to her forehead as she clutched the neckline of her dress like a silent film starlet. “It won’t be long now, little Weiss; you’ll be seeing me in a casket, old and wrinkled. Past my prime and with no bevy of saucy young things surrounding me, weeping their eyes out at the loss!”

“Oh, enough!” Kali’s laugh made her smile against her will. “Your breasts are as magnetic and splendid as ever, if you must know. Just… have other breasts on my mind. And things besides breasts.”

“Of course. It’s quite alright, really.” Cupping Weiss’s cheek tenderly, stroking with her thumb, she whispered, “I just miss chasing you around my kitchen and being ogled; it was harmless fun.”

“Me, too. We’ll do it again soon, okay?”

Kali’s grin was genuine. “Please. You might be with Yang and my Blake, but that’s a game I’m not willing to give up.”

Still playing this game, were they? Well, Weiss wasn’t going to keep being a helpless target anymore. “That’s good. Neither am I.”

Nothing could have prepared Kali for Weiss reaching back to pinch her on the rear end before she walked past into the kitchen. The squeak of surprise was as flustered as she had ever heard Blake’s mother, even if it was brief and not terribly loud. Weiss had to swallow down her own giggle – and the slight thrill of how nice that pinch had felt, fleeting as it was. When Kali followed her in a few seconds later, she was markedly more composed, but grinning wolfishly and had the faintest of blushes in her cheeks.

And her chest bore the evidence of the pinch, as well. Blake, who had been dropping off the last of the plates, noticed the stiffened peaks within seconds and hurried to finish putting them down before excusing herself. This time, Kali noticed, but only seemed vaguely curious and puzzled rather than scandalised. It seemed her daughter’s secret would remain safe for a little while longer.

Once the dishes were done, Weiss cleared her throat and made an announcement to everyone congregating in the living room. “Attention! If you all would be so kind as to join us in the drawing room, Ilia Amitola and myself will be performing ‘Ave Maria’. Just a little post-dinner entertainment.”

“Ooh!” Ruby gasped, hopping up and down in her seat. “You’re gonna play something?”

“Ilia will play, I will sing.”

“OOH!”

Qrow sighed. “I’m staying down here. Maybe Donna Reed’s on.”

“I’m game,” Raven said with a careless shrug. The others seemed to have similar opinions, and began to make their way upstairs.

On the landing, Weiss’s mother hesitated. She backtracked into the hall to ask her, “What’s wrong?”

“Unpleasant memories of that room.”

“Oh… of course.” A flash of seeing her father struck over the head with a vase filled her vision before she blinked to clear it away. “Tell you what, Mommy. Let’s start making some new memories in there, right now. Can we try that?”

Swallowing hard, her mother’s eyes flicked back and forth a little as she took up Weiss’s hand and gave it a would-be firm pat. “You’re right. I’d love to hear my angel sing again.”

Chest puffing out like a male frigatebird, Weiss turned and strode toward the piano where a clearly-nervous Ilia was playing a few scales very quietly. Blake was leaning against one wall, watching her with a genuine fondness in her amber eyes. That gave Weiss some comfort; it looked like their budding relationship was truly heading in the right direction.

So she played. And Weiss sang. The voices that were muttering seconds before fell silent. Every day of her life, she had let her father’s insistences that she needed to practice more, to make sure her instrument was honed to perfection before she displayed it to others, keep her voice caged and silent. She was through letting her past bar her way to her future.

By the time the final note wavered and faded, several hands were pressed to mouths. Kali had to sit down. Ruby and Penny were huddled close, sniffling. Even Raven’s eyes were slightly damp, though she was trying to appear her usual detached self. Everyone but Yang and her own mother were completely stunned. The issue was, several of the Dragons had heard Ilia play already and knew she had talent, but Weiss’s was brand new to most of them.

So Weiss barely had time to curtsy before they were being swarmed.

“Oh my GOD, Schnee!” Blake was gushing. “How did I not know about this?!”

“That was INCREDIBLE!” Ruby piped up, literally hopping up and down. “I’m flipping, what a gas!”

With a slight chuckle, Raven said, “How are we supposed to understand what these damn curtain climbers are saying these days?” But instead of leaving it at that, she looked Weiss dead in the eyes and added, “Nice pipes. Really.”

“Th-thanks,” she breathed. The grumpy woman only nodded and turned back to Ilia, patting her on the back too hard and making her almost fall over into the piano.

“Maybe you ought to be chasing me,” Kali told her, gripping her hands firmly. “Oh, I’m so proud of you, though. A songbird on top of everything else!”

“S-stop,” she tried again with a huge, bashful grin, but it was useless; Penny and Whitley were clapping again, and Yang was massaging her shoulders, and…

And the room was full of love, and reassurance. Camaraderie and affection. Family.

“Okay, okay!” Ilia finally cackled as Ruby gave her a big showy kiss on the cheek, causing it to change colours. “Who wants to hear something else? I could play ‘Night Train’, but it doesn’t have any words.”

“What about ‘Chances Are’?” Raven suggested with something like a grin. And Weiss had to fight down a laugh; she should have known Johnny Mathis would come up sooner or later. The woman was addicted to the crooner. “O-or ‘Misty’… doesn’t matter. Forget it.”

But Ilia was thoughtful. “I haven’t tried either before, but the piano parts are pretty simple. Weiss? You up to the vocals?” When Weiss nodded, she cracked her knuckles. “I could probably pick it out if you give me a-”

“HEY!” interrupted a gruff voice from downstairs. “Some dame’s tryin’ to break into your house!”

Stunned by that proclamation, Weiss and her mother quickly stole down the stairs to see what Qrow meant. The others were hot on their heels - and they nearly ended up in a heap, since the Schnee women had stopped dead in their tracks at the bottom of the staircase.

“Am I too late for dinner?”

It only took a few seconds of awkward smiles and heavy silence before Weiss burst out “WINTER!” and went flying across the entryway and into her big sister’s arms. Winter Schnee was several inches taller, and her trademark Schnee white-blonde hair was pulled into a taut bun. Her arms dropped the heavy duffel bag just barely inside the front door and instantly clamped around Weiss, expression melting into one of affection.

“Ohhhh, Snowball,” she whispered into her shoulder. “I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

“Winter, I don’t understand!” her mother laughed, dashing after her younger daughter and resting a hand on the elder’s shoulder. Winter looked both delighted and surprised to see her so lucid. “What are you doing here so soon? I thought Christmas…”

“Well, after I got the telegram about Father, how could I stay away?” Her brows were furrowed despite the smiles. “Are you all doing alright? I can’t imagine…”

“Oh, fine, fine,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand. Both Raven and Kali rolled their eyes in the background. “You aren’t AWOL, are you?” Winter shook her head. “Oh good. Then how did you manage to slip away? How will you finish your tour of duty if-”

“I’m not. Mother, I’m staying right here in Vale, and taking over the business.”

Their mother’s expression slackened. “Oh… oh no, dear, you mustn’t do that. You enlisted to serve our country, a-and we can get along just fine while you do. It shouldn’t mean you have to drop everyth-”

“Please,” Winter said a little more firmly, finally releasing Weiss as she straightened into a more military stance. “Let me do this. I… what Father has done…” Her voice cracked slightly, even if it was her only overt display of emotion. “I should have been here to protect you, and Weiss and Whitley. And I wasn’t.”

At the mention of his name, Whitley moved into Weiss’s spot and hugged Winter soundly. Though he let go immediately afterward. “There was nothing you could do, I’m afraid, Sister. Though it still pains me to admit his wrongdoing… our father intended to kill Weiss’s friends. It was the response of a coward, and… and he was a killer, and had to be stopped. By death, I’m not quite as sure, but he deserved some sort of justice.”

“Even more reason for me to be here,” she insisted. “I am trained in combat; I could have put his head through a wall before he so much as laid a hand on any of you.”

“Don’t worry,” Willow tried to reassure her in a gentle tone, petting her daughter’s strong jaw. “We had everything well in hand. Oh, I am so very glad to have you back, though!”

Eyes finally lifting to scan the room properly, Winter smiled very slightly and said, “Yes, I see that you have a very… full house, Mother. Who are all these people? You said ‘friends’ were helping you, but…”

“Where are my manners?” Kali chuckled gently as she strode forward, offering her hand. “Kali Belladonna. I’ve been helping your mother through the legal aspects of the divorce and the will, and trying to help clean up around the house. That’s my daughter, Blake.” On cue, Blake waved. “And… well, I’m sure this must be a surprise, such an odd assortment of-”

“Dragons.” When there were a few gasps of surprise, Winter nodded at the leather jackets hanging from the coat rack, her expression vaguely thoughtful. “I remember them well. Wandered into Shopkeeper’s by mistake when I was in my junior year at Vale High, and… well, that was a rather eye-opening experience.”

“Ohhhhhhhh,” Kali suddenly breathed. “That was you? I remember that curious little lamb now. We don’t get many strays like that.”

“Wait, wait,” Weiss found herself saying, shaking her head out. “You’ve seen the inside of Shopkeeper’s, and never mentioned it? And you’re not freaking out that there are Dragons in our house?”

The corner of her mouth did twitch upward in bemusement. “Well… I have to admit, it’s a little unusual, but if you invited them in, you must think of them as friends.”

“Oh. I guess that makes sense.”

“Are they?” Weiss nodded vaguely, and Winter folded her arms over her chest. “Are any of them more than friends?” When the only response she got was widening eyes and pinkening cheeks, Winter blinked in surprise. Clearly, she had not expected her teasing to turn up anything pertinent. “Oh.”

“I… it’s not… you probably think I’m some sort of deviant.” Whitley cringed at the use of that word, memory of being admonished still fresh. “Sorry, this isn’t how I-”

“No, no, don’t apologise. Let me show you something.”

From within her plain black purse, she withdrew a battered-looking leather wallet. Flipping past a few bills and identification cards, eventually she came up with a small photograph of a petite, dark-skinned girl in a beret. Her eyes looked clear and clever, and her lips as if she were trying to suppress a smirk.

“This… is Ciel. She’s someone very special to me. Or… was.” Her eyes were sad as she added, “Her parents are marrying her off, and she told me that we had our fun, but it was over. And honestly, I believe her; I want to say she’s just scared and I’ll ‘win her back’, but I doubt it. Once Ciel’s mind is made up, it’s set in stone.”

However, Weiss was laughing. Everyone else remained quiet, but a little at a time, Winter’s hands moved to her hips as her little sister doubled over with mirth, nearly staggering over into the umbrella stand.

“And what’s the matter with you now?”

Still giggling, she turned around and beckoned Yang closer. The blonde immediately hopped to, edging past her mother and Penny to stride over to Weiss’s side. Immediately, they locked their hands together, and Yang’s eyes widened just a bit. The elder sibling couldn’t help gasping, though she didn’t look displeased. Not in the slightest.

“Oh, Winter,” she breathed with an excited grin. “I think we have a lot to talk about.”

“Maybe we do, Weiss.” Winter leaned their foreheads together as she added, “And I would love that more than anything in the world right now.”

“Me, too. But first, come see what leftovers we have; you’re probably really hungry.”

“Yes, please!” Willow provided with a huge grin – and the fact that she also wasn’t fazed by Winter’s outing herself seemed to make the older of the sisters completely bewildered. “Come inside, dear – Whitley, can you take her bag upstairs? She must be so tired, and we have so much catching up to do!”

“Can’t one of these brutes do it? You know I have minimal upper body strength.”

“Brutes?!” Raven fired up – but Kali’s hand on her arm helped her reign it in. Through her teeth, she growled, “Sure. Anything for the Schnees.” Then she grabbed the bag with one hand, hefting it as she glared briefly at the boy before carrying it toward the bedrooms.

Meanwhile, Weiss was on cloud nine. Winter was there. Her sister was the only missing piece from her family; now it was complete. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ruby jump up and down a little before she rushed over to her side.

“You’re a little sister, too!”

“Yes,” she chuckled quietly as she watched her mother leading Winter into the kitchen, both of them chatting easily. And Winter looked so happy to see her mother wasn’t a lush anymore; was bright-eyed and invested in the world around her. Just like she herself was happy about it. “So what?”

“So it’s really COOL! Maybe that’s why we’re friends, huh? Like, aside from you dating Yang… I always thought we had more of a bond, a-and that’s what it is! We know what it’s like to be little sisters with big strong sisters, a-and that’s neato, huh? Right?”

To stop her from jumping around, she paused to give Ruby a warm hug. “We’re friends because I like you. That’s all. But… you’re right, it’s pretty neat that we both have strong big sisters.”

After only a brief pause, Ruby squeezed her back and whispered, “Yeah. Little sister club!” Then she pulled back with a huge grin. “Go hang out with Winter. She seems so hip.”

“She is.”

As she stepped across the threshold into the dining room, she heard Yang calling out, "Announcing the arrival of Her Majesty, Princess Schnee!"

“Okay, okay!” she laughed easily, turning toward the kitchen. “You got me.”

“Yeah, I do,” Yang whispered as she pulled her in close for a hug and a kiss, ignoring the coos from the other side of the door. “Got you, Schnee. All mine forever.”

Weiss’s blue eyes sparkled with affectionate glee as she leaned heavily against the Dragon. Having so much to say, but finding in the end that she didn’t need to, anyway. All she had to do was whisper a few choice words against Yang’s smirking lips before they connected yet again.

“Hmph. What a brute.”

  THE END

[louehvolution]

Hi Alex! How are you? Seeing the old " louis is I'm control of everything he doesn't really care about his career doesn't want to succeed" discourse doing a comeback, if you don't mind to share, i would love to read your opinion about it. I already imagine what must be, but I really like the way you express your point of view of things ☺️

Now, at least for me, it's worse because it's coming from solo louies :/ and makes me so sad because the things are being said/implied about him are very unfair. i thought at this point, we all knew the difficulties louis has to endure in music industry and that's why is more complicated for him to do something that seems so basic for any other artist, but guess I was wrong.

PS. feel free not to answer, don't want to pressure you

Hi, anon, thank you for the kind words! 💖 In my opinion, Louis' situation doesn't seem to have significantly changed since 2020. His main press is still tabloid nonsense, with the same backhanded compliments if anything—the most recent bit in the Bizarre column could have been from 2017. Even a record breaking livestream and a cool free festival didn't get real press or promotion—before or after the fact. Louis’ earnest support of other artists or celebrities, including so-called friends, has yet to be reciprocated. Can anyone name a single tangible thing BMG have done for him since he signed with them over a year ago? While tour is incredible, its impact seems entirely contained to the established fanbase—and it cannot solve fandom's issues or irreconcilable differences. Is there, honestly, any sign of work being done toward improving Louis’ credibility and visibility as an artist, to prepare for his next music release after close to three years? For other artists touring doesn't mean a complete standstill in terms of their teams continuing that kind of work. And like, I always consider that Louis might opt for the path of least resistence these days, that he might pick and choose his battles, that he might be tired and his goals and expectations and standards might have shifted under unrelenting pressure and mistreatment and the simple passage of time—but even so I don’t believe things as they stand now are how he would want or freely chooses them to be. I definitely don’t think he’s out there refusing genuine promo opportunities, turning down chances of his music reaching more people; that he prefers not to be recognized as an artist, and seemingly directs his ‘friends’ not to show him any professional support, or that he takes his fans and their support for granted, etc.

Unfortunately, fans taking their frustrations out on Louis when reality doesn't match up with their unfounded, unmanaged expectations, isn't new.

To be honest, I avoid discourse these days as we’re finally living the moment we’ve been waiting for and—faith in the future or not—I just want to enjoy the present while it lasts. And what is there to say that hasn’t been said before, you know? But keeping this short, this is where I'm at, personally.

[qqueenofhades]

Trump's SCOTUS pick scares the ever loving shit out of me. I'm trying not to have a full blown panic attack actually.

Sigh. I know.

I’m not going to say that picking someone literally, un-exaggeratedly out of The Handmaid’s Tale for SCOTUS, especially to replace someone like RBG, isn’t mother fucking terrifying. It is.  Especially since Mitch McConnell is trying to set her final confirmation vote for October 29, literally five days before the election. Yes indeed, that would be a third Supreme Court seat filled by an impeached president who lost the popular vote by three million votes, (possibly) confirmed by Republican enablers (some of whom are absolutely going to lose their seats in this election) who represent a sizeably smaller fraction of the US population than their Democratic counterparts, in a display of outright, staggering, truly breathtaking hypocrisy about the protocol of election-year vacancies on SCOTUS, which they themselves shouted about to no end with Merrick Garland in 2016. This is how tyranny by minority rule works, and... yeah. It’s bad. It’s awful. When is this going to end.

That said, however: we do not yet exist in this theoretical grimdark future where some dystopian 6-3 (or even 7-2) conservative SCOTUS strips us of our rights at every turn, with no recourse except for us to sit passively and take it, and there are a lot of things that we ourselves can do between now and then to make sure that it never happens. First off, House Democrats have proposed a bill to introduce 18-year term limits for SCOTUS justices, rather than it being an automatic lifetime appointment. This would also give every president the ability to appoint two justices per four-year term. Because SCOTUS has become such an instrument of partisan warfare, and because the obvious implications of having a partisan head of state pick the senior federal judges for a lifetime is part of what has fucked us up now, this would be a GREAT improvement. House Dems can’t make it into law right now, because Democrats do not hold a majority in both chambers of Congress and they do not hold the presidency. You know how this COULD be passed? If Joe Biden was elected with a blue House and Senate. That way, even if God forbid the GOP horror show snuck Coney Barrett onto the bench just before the election, this could be fixed.

Here’s another way to think about it. I myself have a HUGE problem with catastrophizing: a bad thing happens, and then it seems like an inevitable chain of nonstop bad things until everything gets irredeemably, unfixably even worse. This year, obviously, has not done much to help that, because yes, the bad things keep coming. But they’re still individual events and have not yet crystallized into some unbreakable, unavoidable future. History is made up of thousands of millions of choices, accidents, unforeseen developments, total random bullshit, and much more, as much or more as it is made up by the macro-scale actions of oligarchs. Obviously, globalization and capitalism have made us all more connected to each other, and thus changes to the system can ripple more broadly, but they are not the only people who make history. If there’s one thing I can tell you as a historian, it’s this: the future is just history that hasn’t been made yet, and it is subject to the exact same unpredictable bullshit that has constituted history throughout, well, history. Nothing is unavoidable and we have never existed in a world where we can’t do anything at all. Also, authoritarian regimes (especially those imposed without the consent of the people -- willing subjection to authoritarianism is one thing, but the other, yeah) have a relatively short shelf life, historically speaking. That won’t help all of us who could be hurt right now (though we can STILL fight back and speak up and help our neighbors), but it’s the truth. Authoritarian rule (especially when it’s not balanced by economic security, which sure as hell isn’t happening right now) can last for a while, sure. But it is always its own worst enemy, and it will always be ended. How that ends is a choice we can make.

This isn’t the “get out on the streets and Start The Glorious Revolution!!!” nonsense that the armchair internet leftists, none of whom are actually starting a glorious revolution or doing anything except bitching on Twitter about how Biden and Trump are alike, are fond of. This is an active choice to realize that there are always things you can do, that there are things you can do right now, and one of them, most obviously, is voting. This mess was all completely goddamn avoidable if people had voted for Hillary Clinton in 2016. But well, they didn’t, and we get one last shot to fix this by democratic process. Trump is already openly setting up to contest the election results/try to invalidate them/throw out ballots. This is all old-school fascism. This is what is happening. He is counting on another razor-thin margin of votes that he can then contest in his hand-picked SCOTUS; he wants another Bush v. Gore very, very badly. The only way to blow away any legitimacy for anything like this is to vote in such overwhelming numbers that there’s no question of Biden’s victory, no need to wait for mail-in ballots (another reason the GOP has been trying so hard to destroy the post office) or anything else. At heart, Trump is a coward. He’s also an egomaniac. If it comes to stepping aside peacefully or being dragged out of the White House by the FBI for everyone to laugh at for the rest of time, hmm, I doubt he’s going to go for that. (And if he does, well, I will also savor the sight of him in handcuffs for all eternity.) However, that doesn’t mean the GOP machine won’t TRY, because Trump is not just Trump, but is his entire miserable cabal of enablers. I have written my fingers raw about how badly people need to vote. This is literally your last chance to do it.

I’ve seen a lot of the-sky-is-falling, we’re-doomed, they-have-the-votes-so-don’t-even-bother handwringing in the last few days. To some degree, yes. We all feel doomed. We have all been asked to find strength to deal with massive and unending waves of terrifying bullshit past anyone’s normal capacity, and we’re tired. We want it to end. But it’s SO CLOSE to ending, if we can all just get out and vote for Joe Biden in massive numbers on November 3 (or if your state has early voting, sooner; BANK YOUR VOTE). That’s such an easy thing to do. Nothing is set in stone. We can still fix things and make it so, you know, we’re not living in a fascist state ruled by Gilead. (And besides, all this Chicken Little rhetoric is super easy for the Russian troll farms to exploit. Don’t listen to it. Shut it down. Reject it.)

They want you to think you’re powerless. You’re not.

They want you to think this will never end. It will. We decide how.

They want you to think this is a foregone conclusion and you should just go back home and let it happen. You don’t have to.

They want you to think your vote doesn’t matter. It does.

They want you to think your rights are gone. They’re not.

They want you to think this future is inevitable.

IT’S NOT.

Hang in there.

Lots of hugs.

[doubleshotofsomething]

Come Into My Life

This is my entry for @nekoannie-chan​‘s writing challenge. Congratulations on 500followers :D! Thank you so much for letting me participate!

This is a series. The remaining parts will be posted throughout the day. It is a Thor fanfic with a song prompt “Entra en mi Vida” (its a beautiful song, i highly recommend).

Song Prompt: Entra en mi Vida by Sin Bandera 

Warnings: swearing, like a lot of it. Mentions of human experimentation. that’s it?? Also, people are idiots here, folks. bare with me.

Summary: You live in a world where soulmates don’t exist. Like, at all. All that meant to be, fate has chosen nonsense? Not real. Literal, actual, from-the-TV-screen fairytale. So... why is the God of Thunder convinced that you’re his?

Part One: Entra en mi vida, te abro la puerta

"So—" You clear your throat, throwing yourself onto the only empty seat, "—all jokes aside, guys. What the fuck!"

Everyone blinks at you, drinks in their hands and confusion all over their faces.

You stare back at them, completely dismissing the new sets of eyes staring at you. "No, seriously, like what the fuck?" You reiterate. "Like, no guys, this fuck needs an answer. What the fuck."

"Are we supposed to know what this fuck is?" Ghost asks, the first among the group of five to surpass her confusion. "Because I have a what the fuck for that what the fuck."

You reach over to grab her drink and she – having been used to your antics after three years of friendship – moves it closer for you to grab. You take a sip, let the taste of her chamomile tea settle on your tongue, blanch and give it back.

"So, you know how the Avengers got their asses whipped after they pulled a deadbeat dad, right?" You make grabby hands towards Hope's drink, and she – just like Ghost – pushes it over to you.

"Careful," she grimaces, "it has a kick to it."

"So did Thanos," You mumble as you take a sip of her drink. The espresso sits heavily on your tongue and you swear you can feel it stain your teeth. "What the actual fuck, Hope? What is this? And why does it not have sugar?"

She chooses to roll her eyes at you and mimic the remaining two new faces by staying quiet. Her eyes narrow at you in warning.

"Don't get a tude with me, missy—" You wag your finger at her, “—you're the one that MIA'd for five years without a return address and pissed off the Feds. Like, seriously, what the fuck guys? We had plans and everything! Why the fuck would you leave me alone for that long? You know how I get when I'm not forced to socialise!"

Ghost snorts. "Don't be a baby."

Pouting, because you’re very mature, you feign a sniffle and stick your tongue out at her. "Weeeeeh."

The dude with the annoyingly short blond hair snorts, consequently gaining your attention, and tries to hide his smile with his cup.

"You're new," you narrow your eyes at him. "Why are you new? And why do you look like the dude that owes me 12K for wrecking my car?"

"Oh my god—" Ghost grumbles in the background, "—not this again."

"I have bills and crippling debts and things that need to be paid for, Ghost!"

"You're a trust fund baby, you shithead!" She argues. "You don't know what crippling debt looks like!"

"You don't know that! My investment portfolio has been crumbling since the stock market crashed last year due to the recession."

Sam grins cheekily at you. "You have no idea what you just said, do you?"

Huffing and puffing, all you can say is. "Let's go back to the what the fuck that needs to be discussed." You glare at him pointedly, "then maybe, we can discuss why you're still here and why you came back from ashes."

"I know you missed me, cupcake." The evil bastard reaches over and pinches your cheek.

"I miss dancing on your grave," You try to swat his hand away, "now, thanks to your selfishness, I need a new dance floor. Very rude of you to not stay dead."

"You're adorable."

"As I was whatting the fucks," You turn back to Hope and Ghost, "when the fuck did my life become Thor versus Thanos, and why am I the Thor without the hammer to fight Thanos?"

"Is that your what the fuck?"  Ghost frowns.

It's her turn to get glared at. "Don't act like you haven't seen the footage. You know exactly how badly Thor got yeeted off his high horse. I'm only regretful that Captain Wrecking Ball wasn't knocked off his."

"You know he's over here, right?" Hope, ever the oblivious one to your obvious jabs, points at the dude that wrecked your car.

"Yeah, unlike my car and the check he has yet to hand over but hey—" lifting up the cup of espresso, you grin at her "—when life gives you lemons."

"I'm still confused and offended about the Thanos reference." Sam, the gift from the bad side of Pandora's box, begins. "What do we have to do with your life?"

"What does pulling a deadbeat dad mean?" The other new dude asks, his face is both the definition of confused and annoyed. "And what does it have to do with the Avengers?"

You frown. "Now I'm confused—"

"Oh no—" Ghost grimaces.

"—Why do you look like the dude from Gossip Girl but also like the dude on the UN's wanted poster of 20something?" You turn to Sam for assistance. "Doesn't he look like that old geezer from the museum?"

Sam grins, leans back in his seat to take a proper look at the manbun dude. Your table is the round one placed at the corner – the irony – and, until recently, it has always been occupied by the four of you. That was before they decided to ghost you for half a decade.

 "Now that you mention it—"

"Oh, fuck off." Manbun snaps at Sam, and you swear you've never fallen in love faster in your entire life than you have in that moment.

Your grin is wide and shit-eating as you put the cup down. You extend your hand to Manbun and wiggle your freshly painted — somehow chapped – fingers.

"I'd tell you my name but it's better if you just called me sweetheart," You’re still grinning. "What's your sign and what time can you pick me up?"

He blinks at you, still confused, and frowns at your hand. Slowly, because you’re a patient girl, you lean over and pry his left hand away from his cup. You place your palm in his and wrap your fingers around each other.

"I'd ask for your name but I think I'll settle for calling you babe," You shake his hand, and then place it back on the cup. "Or hun. I'd call you handsome, but that's too tacky and we—” You point between the both of you, " – don't do tacky."

You sit back in your seat and glance at Sam. "Well... Most of the time anyway."

At this, the rest of your life flashes you a grin. "How does eight o'clock sound?"

"It sounds like a recipe for disaster." Ghost cuts in, narrowing her eyes at you. "Back off, shithead. You've hurt enough of my coworkers"

Jaw dropping and shock feigning, you gasp. "How is that my fault?"

"Is that joke?" Ghost frowns, "because I feel like it's a joke. Three incidences with the analysts and five tech support team make it look like a joke."

You scoff at that. "Look, if your little back up boys can't handle the essence of a real woman, then that's not my fault." Confidently – and silently annoyed – you also add. "Plus, I actually did SHIELD, or whatever ridiculous name you're calling the remake of a failed organisation, a favour. If your boys behind the boys in spandex can't handle being told off by a 'mouse' as they call us, then they shouldn't be behind the dude that wrecked my car.

 "But now that I've said that out loud—" You pause, "—I finally understand why the Avengers are so bad at their job. I mean, with such poor support systems, it's no wonder boy blue and red uses cars as a landing mechanism. It's almost as if he's never heard of a parachute."

There's a pregnant pause as you pretend to ponder the situation. The new dude with the blond hair has visibly turned red and is shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Manbun has a very permanent looking frown smeared all over his face and you’re pretty sure you've just ruined whatever chances you had of giving him children. And Sam, because he's Sam and is patiently waiting his turn to roast you, has the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.

Ghost pretends to scowl at you, even though you’re pretty sure she's already drawing up the schematics for the pedestal she's about to build for you. Hope, because she's Hope and has first-hand experience of dealing with spoilt little brats that use creative antics to slowly drive people away, decides to use that exact moment to sigh and expose you.

"Hey sweetheart," she begins in that voice of betrayal. "Can you, like, not be an antisocial, territorial pain in the ass for five minutes and be nice? Stop trying to get our guests to leave with your little mind games, yeah?"

You blink at her. Once, twice. Because the betrayal always takes a few moments to sink in.

"They're not mind games." You retort. "Boy Blue over there did wreck my car. He used it to cushion his fall, because apparently the super-secret organisation that harbours entitled idiots doesn't invest in parachutes."

"But you don't even need that 12K—"

"I didn't ask for the 12k. I just simply pointed out that his reckless behaviour is very costly for those who suffer for it."

"Okay, guys—" Ghost tries to interject, but it's too late. The fire has already started, and Hope and you have never been on the same page when it comes to anything involving the Avengers.

"You're being unreasonable now. You, of all people, should understand that some things are out of our control."

"That doesn't excuse or make the damage done alright. The ruining of people’s livelihoods isn’t a necessary evil for your super heroe'ing righteousness." You point out, eyes narrowed, and teeth bared. "I, of all people, don't understand your defence. Because I don't use the lab that made me as an excuse to get away with the bad shit I do to people. Whether intentionally or not."

"Really? Because you weren't singing that same song when you cashed in on all that HYDRA inheritance."

"I am not the people that made me and it's not like I'm vacationing the money away. Or have you forgotten about that harbour I had to fix because your boyfriend decided to grow a few sizes?"

"Oh, how could I forget? It's not like you rub it in his face every time he tries to so much as even say hi to you."

"People should be held accountable for their actions. Excuse me for exercising my fifth amendment because I don't think communicating with the guy that turned your dad into a fugitive by siding with the anti-accords gang is cool!"

"That accords was messed and you know it!"

“Yeah, but I didn’t go around trying to be a vigilante about it!”

"Just admit that your stance for the accords is only because you need the government's protection against ex-Hydra agents."

She hit a cord and she knows it. "You're treading on very thin ice, Hope."

 "Scared they might come back and finish what they started? Now that Pierce and Rumlow are gone, there's nothing stopping them from finishing what they started, is there?"

"You know," You sigh, reaching for Ghost's drink and taking a sip. "At least, I don't have to abduct a man from his home, nearly ruin his chances at freedom, risk his life numerous times for my personal gain, just cause I have a theory about my mom's whereabouts. And then—" You let out a condescending laugh at the thought, "—have the audacity to look him in the eye and call it love. Because, ya know, turning a guy into a science experiment and berating him for doing what he thought was right is so romantic."

She's turning red. You can see it before it actually happens and there is a sick sense of pleasure coursing through your veins at the thought. At the fact that you’re the one pressing all the buttons.

Boy, are you fucked up.

"Damn." Sam mumbles, then chortles, then belts out a laugh. "Shit. Who pissed in your gourmet breakfast?"

"People," You scowl at him. “Fucking people. Because, now call me a bitch if you insist, I don't remember telling management to sign a deal with SHIELD."

"What the fuck?" Ghost, ever so caring, contributes to your bewilderment and pissy mood.

You nod frantically at her. "Exactly! What the fuck! Do you see why I needed you guys so bad? Like, it's like the creation of the Strike Force all over again!"

"Hold on—" Captain Damage Ball cuts in. "—I'm confused. What exactly is going on and what does SHIELD have to do with it?"

"Oh boy. Germany, here we go again—"

"Don't be an asshole, shithead."

 --

 When SHIELD fell and Black Widow released all those classified documents to the public, your existence was made known to the public. It turned out that running a terrorist cell inside a super-secret organisation wasn't the only thing Pierce had hidden from the world. You were.

You were supposed to be an experiment. Another volunteer, like the Twins, for Hydra's ultimate plan. Another Bucky Barnes, but without the constant torture to keep you mindless and loyal.

 You were supposed to be the next generation. The Rumlow that wouldn't need force and violence to get the job done. That was the requirement. Those were the orders. That's what you were supposed to be.

Instead, somewhere deep in the dark, cold corners of an abandoned Hydra lab, the inhumane attempt of creating Winter Soldiers through 'natural means' had taken place.

The surrogates were all volunteers, the scientist claimed.

The procedure was necessary for the mission, the doctor explained.

This is the only way forward, the master mind behind that plan argued.

Rumlow took care of the agents himself. Pierce burned down that lab himself. And, out of all the children born, you were the only one that lived longer than the rest. The others were unfortunate enough to be experimented on, before Rumlow found out.

Not knowing who to trust, Pierce kept you hidden from the world and Hydra. He never hid the truth from you, nor did Rumlow. They knew that, at some point, those that knew about the lab would eventually find you, and you needed to be prepared for when they did.

When SHIELD fell, the paper trail that led to your existence was small – miniscule, even – but it was there. Sam found it, but he kept you a secret as well until you were ready for the whole world to know.

But the world wasn't waiting for you to be ready. It wasn't that patient, nor kind. Because, with everything out in the open, chaos ensued, and you were still – at the end of the day – the next generation. All those assets couldn't remain frozen forever and all those lives that were ruined by Hydra couldn't remain unaided.

So, you had to step out and – begrudgingly – announce your existence to the world. Put a huge target on your back and claim the inheritance that Pierce had unwittingly left you.

"I'm gonna go piss off alot of bad people—" You had said to Sam over the phone, right before your News Interview. "What do you think I should start with?"

He wasn't having any of it. "Did you just wait for me to leave the country so you could do something stupid?"

"Of course not, I'm not you—" You scoffed, checking your outfit again. "—I hired a hacker to fake a series of cyber-attacks. Then I asked that girl, you know – the one that could walk through walls, to freak a bunch of people out. So, you know, it could be an Avenger level threat, but not the kind that needed Captain Spandex, so they'd send you. Then I scheduled the interview for the night of the supposed attack, because I knew you'd be gone—"

"Are you kidding me, Y/N— Clint, turn this thing around now!"

"—So, I was thinking I show up on stage and say 'the law says I can take all those assets and I'm gonna use them to do the exact opposite of what my ex-bosses would've wanted'. How does that sound?"

"Do me a favour. Don't move. I wanna kill you myself."

You grinned. "I knew you'd love it."

--

Next Part

TAGS: @nekoannie-chan​ , @thorfanficwriter​

[iceslushii]

So, I'm writing this to document what I can only assume is my sudden descent into insanity. I can't possibly be THAT bad a navigator, and yet as I write this I've been trapped in Ikea for 2 days. I haven't seen another person in the entire time I've been here. I thought it was a prank at first. Turn the place into a maze, get all the people out and see how long it takes me to get lost, then everyone has a good old laugh. Realised that wasn't the case when I tried to backtrack. Everything had changed, so I ended up lost. Instead of the exit, it was just row after row of bookcases.

So, I'm trapped in Ikea. Sounds like the setup for a bad joke. The lights went out at 10pm. Nearly gave me a fucking heart attack, that loud electrical THUNK sound and then pitch blackness. Place is full of beds though and my phone has a torch on it - but no damn signal - so I found a bed and went to sleep. Spent most of the next day trying to find my way out with no luck. Did find a restaurant serving those meatballs though, so at least I won't starve. That's probably the punchline to that joke. Anyway they were still warm and fresh, but I haven't seen anyone around who could have cooked them. Made my way back to the beds before the lights cut out again since it's too dark to search with them off.

It's 9.10am now, the lights came back on a little while ago. I'm sure I've searched the entire area around where I came in now and the exit obviously isn't here, so I'm going to pick a direction and hope for the best.

Day 3 of my magical Ikea mystery adventure. If I wasn't sure that there was something seriously weird about this place before, I am now. Walked for 3 hours in a more or less straight line (insert Ikea joke here) before I came across a ladder next to one of those huge stock shelves they have here. Climbed up to get my bearings, and it looks like this place just stretches on forever. Like that scene from the Lion King, except instead of trees and grass it was all shelves and tables and crap. I did see a person moving not too far away though, so I headed over.

Thought it was a staff member at first - it was wearing the uniform. And hell maybe it was, maybe freakish 7ft tall monsters with long arms, short legs and no faces are just the kinds of thing they want working at Super Ikea. Damn thing completely ignored me though, and with no eyes or ears I can't even be sure it knew I was there. Thought about shoving it or something to get its attention, but its hands were big enough to crush a water melon so I decided against it. It just kept moving along and eventually I lost sight of it so I decided to carry on the way I was going.

Anyway, no comfy bed for me tonight. Looks like I've entered the Improbably Hard and Pointy Table section of the store. Guess I'll have to make do with some bunched up tablecloths. Phone battery died during the day too. Didn't work anyway, but I feel like I've just lost some vital lifeline.

You ever see one of those cartoons where they're going through doors in a hallway and they just pop out of another door in the same hallway? That's how I feel right now. I've seen nothing but the same identical bookshelf for 2 days now. Just row after row after row of them. I mean, come on. I love books as much as the next guy, but this is excessive. I'm obviously still moving forwards though, I can see the signs hanging overhead passing by. Too bad none of them say "Exit".

Not sure who I was addressing that question to. Lets just say it was practice for the autobiography I'm going to write when I get out of here. I'll call it "My perfectly normal trip to a regular old Ikea".

If I ever get out o

Finally found some other people! Yeah, turns out I'm not the only poor bastard trapped in here. Lucky for me, I guess. My 6th night here, 2 of those staff things came at me in the dark. Different from the first one I saw, but still messed up. Heard them coming, they were saying that the store was closed and I had to leave the building, all nice and polite like. I'm not sure which part of that was weirder, that they don't have mouths or that they were apparently trying to kill me while they were saying it. Came at me like rabid dogs.

So, I legged it. Sprinting through ikea in the dark like a fucking madman. I saw it when I cleared another stand of those giant stock shelves, all lit up with torches and floodlights. They've built a whole town in here! Got a massive wall built out of shelves and beds and tables and whatever else. I swear to god it was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Anyway I guess they saw me coming (or maybe they heard my girlish manly bellows of fear), because they had a gate open and 2 people were there waving me in. Heard the staff things slam into the gate behind me after it closed, still politely informing us all that the store was now closed. They wandered off eventually though.

They call the town Exchange, because that's whats on the sign hanging from the ceiling directly above it. Exchange and Returns. All lit up against the night using lights they've found and plugged into the power lines. And there are beds and food and people. Over 50 wonderful people with regular sized limbs and a full set of facial features. It's now my 7th night here, and the first one not spent in darkness. A full week living in Ikea. There's probably a TV show in that somewhere.

Now that I'm around other people, I'm starting to feel more normal. Maybe normal isn't the word. But after a week with only the sound of my own footsteps for company, I was becoming increasingly sure that I'd just gone nuts. That I was tied up in some padded room somewhere, banging my head against the wall. But no, I feel quite sane now, thank you very much!

Apparently there are other towns out there. Some with more people, some with less. I found that fairly mind-boggling - how can that many people go missing with no one noticing. Surely someone would have noticed that everyone who goes to ikea seems to fucking vanish. Or maybe it's not everyone. Maybe we're just the lucky ones.

The people here just call those staff monster things the Staff. Apparently they are fine during the day, minding their own business walking the aisles. As soon as those lights go out though, they go fucking bonkers. So during the day people go out to find food, water and whatever else they need. Apparently there are restaurants and shops around that randomly get restocked. No one knows how. Maybe the staff do it. Apparently they aren't very good at their jobs though because the restocking sometimes takes a while, which means the food needs to be rationed. Maybe if they weren't so busy chasing people around in the dark they'd get more done.

Anyway when night comes the staff go nuts and everyone holds up inside the walls. Apparently it's the same everywhere in this place, whatever this place is. The Ur-Ikea, from whence all other Ikeas sprang. Or maybe we're all still just in the regular ikea and this is all some fever dream brought on by mind-numbing boredom. Who knows.

Been here for 10 days now. Most of the people I asked said they stopped keeping track a long time ago and one guy, Chris, said he'd been in here for years.

Years.

[ILLEGIBLE SCRIBBLES]

Apparently there are rumours of people who do manage to get out. And of people who see the exit, only to have it vanish before their very eyes. I get the feeling not everyone believes that, but I do. Explains how we got stuck in here in the first place (sort of). And I mean, come on. Staff monsters, row after endless row of high quality Swedish furniture. I don't know why they would find a disappearing door so hard to believe in.

Anyway, I went out scavenging for food at a nearby shop with Sandra and Jerry today. Once you learn the landmarks of this place it's not so hard to navigate. The overhead signs help a lot, but there are others; not too far in the distance a huge section of those giant stock shelves has collapsed against each other and way off in the east (we all assume it's east anyway - apparently Ikea doesn't sell compasses) is some kind of tower that looks like its made of wood, reaches all the way to the ceiling. Maybe they were trying to break out through the roof. Lights up at night so there must be people there, but its apparently a few days walk (which means it must be miles away) so no one here really knows for sure. Apparently I got incredibly lucky sleeping out in the open for a week without getting ripped to bits by the staff. That's me. Lucky lucky lucky.

We found some food in the shop. Guess the staff restocked it during the night, which was nice of them. There was a telephone on the wall, so I figured I'd try it out. There was a voice on the other end, but they were just talking nonsense. Random words strung together with no real meaning. You ever see a video of someone with aphasia? Kind of sounded like that. Didn't answer me when I spoke to them anyway. Sandra says all the phones in here are the same.

Oops, asking the journal questions again!

I was thinking last night. The ceiling on this place is pretty high and as far as anyone can tell it goes on forever. Shouldn't there be some kind of weather in here? I'm sure I read about some NASA building that was so big it had its own weather patterns, with clouds and stuff. This place is definitely bigger than that, but now that I think about it I'm pretty sure I've never felt so much as a temperature change in here.

I'll add it to the Grand List of Weird Bullshit.

The staff attacked the Exchange last night. Must have been 20 or 30 of them all just asking us to leave the store calm as you like, while trying to smash the walls down with their bare hands. Apparently this happens pretty regularly, so everyone is prepared for it. Knives from the restaurants, lawn mower blades made into hatchets, a fire axe. One guy, Wasim, even made a functional crossbow. Anyway the walls have holes in them, which I hadn't noticed before, specifically so we can stab out at the staff when they attack. Took a couple of them down myself. They don't seem to bleed, which is weird, but they go down as easy as a regular person once you start sticking holes in them.

We had to haul the bodies away in the morning. Apparently the dead ones will attract more during the night, so we had to get them away from Exchange. We have a couple of those trolley things they use to move big boxes around, so we loaded them up and took them over to Pickup. Apparently people just name everything in here after whatever sign is hanging overhead.

Pickup was grisly. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of dead staff all piled up. There was no smell, which was a blessing. Apparently in addition to not bleeding, these things don't rot either. My curiosity got the better of me while we were unloading them, so I took a look at one of the more cut-up ones. They're just skin, or something that looks like skin, all the way through. No muscle, no bone, no organs. Are they even really alive in the first place? They certainly seem like they have bones when they are moving around, pounding on the walls. And I'm sure I felt more resistance than just skin when the knife went in during the night. Maybe something happens to them when they die. Just one more thing on the ever-increasing list of Weird Shit that goes on in here, I guess.

Something occurred to me, after the staff attack the other night. Every time you see a situation like this on TV or in a film, like its the end of the world or everyone is trapped on an island or whatever, once groups like ours start to form people always seem to turn on each other. Fighting for food or dominance or whatever else. That hasn't happened here. Apparently people from other towns come by from time to time, just to check in or occasionally to trade if they are short on something. But everything is always cordial. Friendly, even. Maybe its the threat of the staff, or perhaps the constant restocking of supplies in the shops means there's nothing much to fight over.

Maybe people are just better than they are generally given credit for. That's a nice thought. I think I'll go with that one.

A dozen people showed up at the gates this afternoon from a town called Trolleys. Apparently the staff broke through the walls and tore the town apart during the night. These 12 are the only survivors out of over a hundred. We let them in, obviously. One more point in the human decency column. Later, I asked if anyone knew how many of these towns there were out there. Between us and the new folks, we managed to come up with over 20 names. 20 towns filled with people, and who knows how many beyond that.

The motto for this place should be "How Is That Even Possible". Surely someone, somewhere must be looking for the thousands of people that must be in here.

I've been here for a little over 2 months now. Not that much changes, as it turns out. A couple of new people showed up, same story as the rest of us. Nice little trip to Ikea and suddenly they're trapped in Billy Bookcase's House of Faceless Weirdos. The staff attack the Exchange once or twice a week. We kill them and haul their bodies off, sometimes they hurt some of us first. They killed a guy called Jared a couple of weeks back. It was awful, frankly. Turns out regular humans still bleed in here, even if the staff don't. We tried our best, but none of us are doctors.

Jared was a good guy. He deserved better. We all do.

It occurred to me a couple of days after that, none of us were really looking for a way out of here. I don't even know where we'd start.

One of those quad copter things with a camera attached buzzed passed Exchange today. I thought it meant that someone was finally looking for us, that help was on the way. Apparently it's not the first time this has happened, though. Same thing happened a few months ago, and everyone is still here.

No idea if it saw us, it didn't stop if it did. Just kept flying until we could no longer see it.

Note: Based on recovery time of the journal, this entry appears to line up approximately with our first successful test piloting a drone inside SCP-3008-1. Analysis of footage shows a walled settlement under a sign labelled "Exchange and Returns". Attempts to relocate the settlement failed. Origin of previously sighted drones is unknown.

I started talking to people about the stuff they miss from home during dinner today. Probably not the best idea I've ever had, everyone seemed pretty down after. A bunch of people here have families. Husbands and wives, kids. Dogs. Franklin apparently has a pet llama, though I'm not sure I buy that.

But apparently some of the people here have some seriously odd gaps in their knowledge. 3 of them had never heard of the International Space Station, 2 of them seemed to think █████ ███████ was the Prime Minister, and one of them had apparently never heard of the Statue of Liberty. I believe them, too. They seemed just as confused as the rest of us.

The more I thought about it though, the more it started to explain a few things. What if the reason no one is looking for all us missing people is because we haven't all come from the same place. This is going to sound weird (maybe that should be the motto for this place) but what if all the people here have come from different dimensions? Realities? Whatever you call it. I've seen enough TV shows to know the drill. Sarah comes from a place where there is no Statue of Liberty. They didn't launch a space station where Wasim is from. If everyone here came from different places, even from ones that seem identical, there'd be no huge missing persons panic. No mass search. We'd just be a blip, a single missing person in a world of non-stop news.

Well. That was a fun train of thought.

Just realised that yesterday was the six month anniversary of my arrival here. I wonder if Ikea sells party hats. The routine around here has remained more or less the same. More new folk show up, one every couple of weeks or so. Food supplies go up and down, but we've never actually had a major shortage. Occasionally we get a visitor from one of the nearby towns, usually Checkouts or Aisle 630. We check in with each other from time to time, occasionally trade supplies if someone gets particularly low on something. It's comforting, in a way. A reminder that we aren't alone in here, some small glimmer of civilisation. Sometimes they bring medical supplies. Apparently there's a pharmacy a few towns down from Checkouts that gets restocked every now and then, so they share out what they can. I've never heard of an Ikea with a pharmacy before but at this point I wouldn't be surprised if someone stumbled on an Ikea Organ Harvesting Lab. Would certainly explain the staff.

Speaking of our faceless jailers, their attacks have been getting worse lately. 3 or 4 times a week now, with twice as many staff as there used to be. No idea where they all come from, or why the attacks have increased. We tried following one of them during the day a few weeks ago, me and Sarah. Wanted to see if they lead back to a staff room or something. Didn't seem to go anywhere though, just randomly walked through the aisles. We had to turn back before we found anything.

We've been reinforcing the walls, trying to arm ourselves better. Certainly no lack of materials to use. Wasim has been making more crossbows, but it's pretty slow going.

Too bad Ikea doesn't sell guns.

Note: No new personnel have entered SCP-3008 at Site-██ in the time span indicated in this entry.

The attacks are getting bad now. Almost every night, and with so many staff that the bodies almost pile high enough for others to climb the walls. I think we're in real trouble here.

Exchange is

I think Exchange is done. We got hit pretty bad last night. Not many casualties, but the wall is wrecked. We finally figured out why the attacks had been escalating, too. A box of supplies had a chunk of one of the staff in there. No idea how it happened but apparently a piece of one will draw them as well as a full body. Too late now in any case, there's too many bodies for us to haul away and still have time to fix the wall before night. Candace has called a meeting. I suspect there will be talk of abandoning Exchange, maybe try and get shelter at Checkouts or something.

It's already getting late though. I don't think we'll have time to make it. Maybe some of us will. I was fine for that first week out in the dark, after all. But then, how often can I keep getting lucky.

I'm only writing this for a sense of closure, I guess. For me, or for anyone who finds this. If this is the final entry here, I hope whoever is reading this is doing so from outside of this place.

My biggest fear? If I do die tonight, I'll just wake up here again in the morning.

Note: This is the last entry. It is assumed that while attempting to reach the "Checkouts" settlement he was separated from the rest of his group by a pursuing SCP-3008-2 instance and happened upon the exit.

We're no strangers to love You know the rules and so do I A full commitment's what I'm thinking of You wouldn't get this from any other guy I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling Gotta make you understand Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you We've known each other for so long Your heart's been aching but you're too shy to say it Inside we both know what's been going on We know the game and we're gonna play it And if you ask me how I'm feeling Don't tell me you're too blind to see

Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you Never gonna give, never gonna give (Give you up) We've known each other for so long Your heart's been aching but you're too shy to say it Inside we both know what's been going on We know the game and we're gonna play it I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling Gotta make you understand Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye

[itsclydebitches]

So I'm curious what are some character designs you love? Not from RWBY, but just i general. I'm the same anon who got you to check out Berserk and I'd say essentially all of the designs are done damn well. Fit the character. Changes that makes sense for growth. Also make sense given the setting. Even women in armor that doesn't have those massive boob plates. Good designs impact so much subconsciously to have much we enjoy other aspects of a story.

Congratulations! You’ve unlocked my never-ending need to praise Yu Yu Hakusho! :D 

This long, picture-laden post needs two disclaimers going forward: 

I’m not an artist. In the sense that I’m not a visual artist who knows anything about what makes character design good from a technical/community approved standpoint. This is purely based on my own, personal reaction to a beloved series. 

Connected to that, I’m going into this under the assumption that people might really disagree with me (?). Based on the cartoons and anime that I see praised for character design, I don’t think YYH fits whatever list more knowledgeable viewers are pulling from. But I’m gonna lay out my thinking anyway! 

Major spoilers for Yu Yu Hakusho below. 

Alright let’s do this. 

First off, when people start talking character design they often reference how cool a character is. Which makes sense. You want a character to be visually engaging and distinct. Something that makes you go “Wow!” whenever you look at them. However, one of the things I love about the YYH cast is how normal they are. Because they’re supposed to be normal. The trope of the main character having a crazy hair color has become so prominent that we’ve got memes about it now and that works for a lot of stories. You know who is important because, despite the assumption that they’re average people not dying their hair, they stick out like a sore thumb among the rest of the cast. 

However, normalcy is a really important part of YYH. The entire point at the start is that Yusuke is not special. He’s not unique. He’s a delinquent kid who most assume isn’t going anywhere in life. When he dies this doesn’t unlock some Super Special Backstory - you were innately amazing all along! - he just gets caught up in the plot because of a paperwork issue. The afterlife doesn’t know what to do with an asshole kid who unexpectedly saved another kid’s life so they just kind of... shuffle him around until he’s given another chance to live. Then he gets to pay back that second chance by becoming a Spirit Detective. Yeah, Yusuke is talented when it comes to fighting and spirit energy, but at the start that’s rarely emphasized outside of “He’s the best street fighter among no-name street fighters so really, it’s not impressive once you take Yusuke out of his tiny world of school parking lots and the occasional alleyway.” The takeaway is that he’s a dime-a-dozen troubled teen who got involved in the spirit world due to an impulsive act and a bunch of bureaucracy. Indeed, it’s a HUGE moment of emotional growth for Yusuke to realize that people do love him despite his supposedly average, unremarkable, and otherwise negative personality. His normal-ness - and others’ expectation that he could someday make himself great if he learns to work at it - is crucial to where Yusuke starts out. Making him visually distinct in terms of Anime Protagonist Looks would undermine a lot of that. This isn’t supposed to be a Super Special Kid Destined For Greatness. He’s just... a kid. A normal kid. A kid who has to work and learn and grow if he wants to make something of himself. So he gets black hair, brown yes, and a green school uniform. He’s pretty damn average looking. 

Same with Kuwabara. Same with Keiko. Same with Atsuko. They’re just normal people going about their lives and I always appreciated that they looked the part. You can still easily tell them apart thanks to different hair colors, texture, jaw lines, and outfits, but none of them seem out of place in the average world they start out in. Which, as said, is crucial to a lot of YYH’s themes. The ones who look more visually distinct - Hiei and Botan - aren’t human. It makes sense that they wouldn’t obey these same average laws of the rest of the cast and they are our first taste of a world that, in terms of character design, will eventually get pretty wonderfully weird. They function as stepping stones. 

This eventually becomes a story about the demon world and those demons wouldn’t come across as particularly scary/other if you begin the story with equally strange looking humans. Or even just “I don’t see people who look like that walking down the street” humans. Alongside many themes, there’s a contrast at work here. Yusuke stepping out into a stadium full of demons who despise him because of his species hits home when he is so clearly distinct from them. Suddenly, his normal is abnormal. 

Once the ball gets rolling, Yusuke’s looks are constantly in contrast with both his environment and his inner self. He looks like a scary thug but then unexpectedly saves a life. He looks like an average human but is actually the strongest among a group of scary-looking demons. He looks like this badass spirit detective who everyone assumes with have an equally badass spirit beast but, uh... 

Oh my god that’s a precious baby. By the time our cast is family and everyone accepts that Yusuke looks scarier than he actually is or ever was - once the core group is made up of not just humans but demon loving humans who are equally soft - we turn it all on its head again and reveal that Yusuke has demon blood. For the first time he looks as strange and powerful as he is. Yusuke’s normality is done away with the second he’s fully accepted his place in these worlds, throwing everything back into chaos. 

Yusuke’s demon form becomes even more foreign looking  when he’s being controlled by his ancestral father. The above is a Yusuke who is still Yusuke and in many respects the design reflects that: natural hair color, human body, tattoos easily covered up with a shirt. When he’s gone full Mazoku though, something dangerous, the white, wilder hair and change to his expressions ensure we read him as something feral. For the first time in the series Yusuke is truly the dangerous creature he’s pretended to be since his principal was running after him at school. 

As a side-note about character costumes, we see this emphasis on normality in their outfits as well. Obviously a story like RWBY is limited by how much time/money they have for animation, but it nevertheless has an impact to see the group almost constantly in their battle gear. They’re never not the main characters of an action-fantasy show, not even while just out around town with no expectation of entering a fight.  

In contrast, Yusuke and Kuwabara are often animated in everyday clothing that remind us that they’re really just teens trying to live their lives outside of this crazy nonsense. Kuwabara wasn’t even formally hired for all this! The cast wears sweaters and jackets while out and about. More formal clothes for special occasions. Jeans and t-shirts when they’re unexpectedly caught up in a fight because, you know, they’re not ready for battle every second of every day. They’re drawn like normal folks because, outside of the ring, they are. 

(We’ve also got a lot of parallels between Yusuke and Kuwabara’s civilian clothing, visually reminding us that they’re far more alike than they might be willing to admit.)

Despite often changing outfits, the group maintains a basic color pallet that makes them recognizable, yet it’s also not so limited that they appear strange for sticking to one (1) color for the entire time we know them. Yusuke, like most people, is drawn to particular colors, mostly greens, yellows, and blues, so each time we see him he’s familiar while also being distinct from the last time he changed. 

Hiei, as someone who initially wants nothing to do with anyone else and relies on assassin-like speed to take out his enemies, is dressed almost entirely in black. Without that bit of white in his scarf/hair you’d lose him in the shadows... which is the point. 

When he opens up and actually becomes friends with the team, his color pallet starts opening up a great deal too.  

And we’re shown all the little changes he starts incorporating that speak to his growth: his Jagan eye, a bandaged arm hiding his Dragon of the Darkness Flame, the necklace connecting him to Yukina. 

I’ve blathered on about the outfits enough but as a quick final note: EVERYONE WEARS APPROPRIATE FIGHTING CLOTHES. 

No one (even the women to my recollection) wear heels. Everything is loose-fitted and looks easy to move in. They’ve got sensible belts, bandages if they need them, and... that’s it. No unnecessary bells and whistles that distract from what’s supposed to be the story’s real draw: good fights and good characterization. Even the more elaborately styled characters (usually) look like they chose their outfits practically first and for the aesthetic after. At no point do I recall watching this show and going, “WHY would you wear that to a fight??” 

Anyway, back to the designs. 

The exceptions to either side of these extremes - from human normal to demon monstrous - are Genkai and Kurama, both of whom straddle the line. Genkai is someone who has pushed her spirit and body far past the norm. She’s the first human we meet who truly goes beyond that normality, even if you don’t immediately realize it. Her pink hair (such a soft color in her old age it’s not at all distracting) is a slight hint that something isn’t quite right with her. She’s obviously human... but not a normal human. Not anymore. 

Those unnatural looks are emphasized in her youth when she was at the height of her power. 

Genkai as a young woman has vibrantly pink hair (a bright pastel like Botan’s), a softer face, and far more emotive eyes. She looks ethereal, which fits not just her own journey to power but Togoru’s as well. Her story is intimately tied up in what that power does to the human body/soul. So Toguro starts out like this 

a pretty normal looking guy who is on the far end of what the human body is naturally capable of. He’s buff as hell, but not so much that it looks unreasonable. I’ve seen body builders bigger than him. He’s the average (dehydrated...) MCU superhero. However, he ends up like this

In Togoru’s case his abnormality is explicitly presented as grotesque. Rather than giving him a cool looking characteristic that’s clearly supernatural (blue hair, an extra eye, curly horns, etc.), we’ve taken a human characteristic (muscles) and expanded them to an unnatural degree. He’s got some uncanny valley shit going on. 

Paralleling Genkai, we likewise see Kurama subtly standing out among his human allies. 

He’s a demon in a human’s body. By in-world logic his appearance should be just as normal as anyone else’s, but a bit of his true nature shines through. His hair is long in a style not popular in YYH’s Japan. His red is far less of a natural shade than Kuwabara’s. He carries himself with the air of someone who is ancient, because he is. His human design deliberately reflects his true demon form so when that’s finally revealed we still recognize him as Kurama. 

(Same sort of work with Hiei’s demon form.) 

When we look at the cast together we have an immediate, visual impression as to who is normal and who is not - and those assumptions are embedded into the story. Yusuke is someone you’d overlook in the crowd, but he’s the most powerful. Kurama is clearly other in some way, but he’s desperate to live an average, human life. Kuwabara is designed to look and move like the fool and a lot of his development (his and others’ in relation to him, really. Like Hiei) is built around respecting him despite those looks. Hiei is tiny but will kick your ass. Genkai is tinier and will kick your ass worse. 

Her size combined with her age - combined with her status as Yusuke’s teacher - is a continuous reminder not to judge power by looks alone. Don’t underestimate your opponent and get overconfident (a major flaw of Yusuke’s). Know that you still have a LOT to learn about the world. That woman you assume is just a rude grandma? She’s going to break your expectations over and over and over again. 

Speaking of size, that’s a major aspect of Koenma’s design as well. When Yusuke learns he’s meeting the head of the underworld he starts picturing a massive, demonic beast who (sensing a theme here) looks the part of a supernatural ruler. Seeing Koenma for the first time - an adorable toddler-like being - is an absolute shock. 

It’s a gag for the audience, but it’s not just a gag. Due to his looks Yusuke is unable to take Koenma seriously, despite knowing the power he holds. 

Which, even more-so than arrogance, is Yusuke’s greatest flaw throughout the series. He doesn’t take school seriously. His death seriously. Ruler of the underworld seriously. His teacher seriously, etc. Yusuke constantly acts like he doesn’t care, throwing basic respect and effort in the face of whatever authority figure is desperately trying to keep him from self-destructing. He’s on the receiving end of multiple speeches throughout the series (mostly from Genkai) that boil down to, “Care about something, dammit. Take this seriously!” and when he does it’s GREAT. It’s a moment of growth we’ve really built to in a hundred different ways, including how he reacts to others’ looks. Koenma’s design feeds directly into the primary flaw Yusuke is working to overcome. How will he go from a delinquent laughing in the face of the most powerful being to someone multiple worlds can put their trust in? Design assists with that. 

When Yusuke does respect Koenma (even if he still insults/teases him because that’s just an ingrained part of Yusuke’s personality) Koenma’s appearance can change. It’s no longer serving its original function, so he evolves into a very good looking young man (with references to Tuxedo Mask to emphasize those good looks) that just... happens to still carry a pacifier. 

A pacifier that is revealed as an incredibly powerful weapon that will help save the world. Again: don’t judge anyone or anything solely on their looks. They’re never precisely what you’d assume they are based on your first glance - with the exception of minor villains whose looks serve only to convey their villainy: 

For everyone else, looks are complex. Two of the most different looking characters (color-wise anyway) are actually siblings, their contrasts reflecting both differing cultures and the emotional distance between them. 

The scariest looking monsters are just paper-pushers. It’s the handsome humans you should watch out for.  

And this is our hero, a man charged with protecting three worlds. 

I could say SO MUCH MORE but this is already disgustingly long so basically YYH (I think) does a great job of: 

Crafting characters that are distinct but not different for the sake of different. They always feel like they belong to their individual worlds and adhere to whatever “normal” is by those standards. 

Tying character looks really closely to the show’s themes and individual growth. Which, frankly, is something I think all good character design should do. 

It’s not nearly as flashy as other anime... but YYH knows what it wants to accomplish and went about it beautifully. Catch me still weeping over this show fifty years from now. 

Peace ✌️

[hirazuki]

Ooo I'm curious about your hot takes on the Inuyasha reboot after reading your tags 👀

Ahaha, where to start XD Idk if they are hot takes, but here are my thoughts in bullet point form for coherency, I couldn’t figure out how else to organize them. Under a cut, as usual, because it got lengthy... as usual :D

We are 13 episodes in, and I still have no idea wtf is going on or what the series is actually about. And yes, I’m aware that we didn’t know of Naraku’s existence or of the overarching plot until at least episode 16 of that series either and Inuyasha was still very episodic in nature at that early point too, but here’s the thing: Inuyasha did not build upon a pre-existing series. For better or for worse, Yashahime has certain expectations to live up to that the original anime didn’t, by virtue of its being a sequel. Unfair? Maybe, but tough; that’s what happens when you make a sequel. Additionally, despite us not knowing The Main Plot™ of Inuyasha until later, the basic framework for it was laid out clearly by... episode 2? I think? Find and collect the Shikon Jewel shards. Boom, done. Were there distractions or fillers? Sure, but you never got the sense that the characters simply up and forgot about the shards. Even in fillers, the shards often made some kind of appearance. With Yashahime, there’s like three potential storylines going on: 1. The most obvious: most of our main cast from the OG is missing; where are they? Apparently no one in-story cares! :D Inuyasha, who’s that lol. I’m all for a sequel focusing on the new generation with cameos of the old crew; after all, they already had their own series. But this is like... no one cares about them? No one talks about them? And the more characters go about not mentioning them, the stronger their absence is felt. Like, for instance, Kaede knows Moroha is InuKag’s daughter. Moroha grew up on her own, doesn’t know her parents. Kaede doesn’t mention them to Moroha, doesn’t even spare a passing thought about them for the audience’s benefit, Moroha doesn’t ask. Kagome’s family in the present day meet Moroha, recognize her as Kagome’s daughter and... say nothing??? Souta shows Towa Kagome and Inuyasha’s old photos, but doesn’t say a word to Moroha?! Like. It makes no sense. By people not even acknowledging their existence, it makes the fact that they are nowhere to be found even weirder. Also the new gen girls don’t care about their parents or finding out who they were/are... like, okay, it would maybe be in character for one or two of them, but all three don’t give a fuck??? 2. Kirinmaru/the rainbow pearls: Idk how familiar you are with the story, but similar deal with Naraku and the shards here. Kirinmaru is being set up as the villain, still a mysterious figure; our new gen trio is supposed to collect the rainbow pearls that... some of his henchmen have? Or he is after them? Or is that Riku? Unclear. ANYWAY the new gen girls often forget all about the pearls’ existence :D 3. Setsuna’s memories: Setsuna’s dreams have been stolen by the dream butterfly and they need to get them back, because without her dreams she has no memories and is unable to sleep. Cool! Finally a solid, easy-to-follow plot line! Except wait! Towa, who supposedly made it her goal to get Setsuna’s sleep back, forgets all about it! All the time! Like, none of them make an effort to look into this other than being like “oh yeah, know anything about the dream butterfly?” to random folks every now and then. The Inugang back in the day was putting some grad school level research towards their goals, just saying. It just feels like everything’s all wishy-washy and there’s nothing really solid tying the series together. People just remember shit exists when it’s convenient.

.

Character development is MIA. I’m not expecting ground-breaking char dev in 13 episodes (though I do know 12 episode series that were phenomenal in that regard), but like... I do expect the series to focus on building the dynamics between the main three characters. So far, the series is more focused on teasing the audience with glimpses and promises of the OG cast instead. The creators are using nostalgia and bait (esp of a certain pairing) to drive interest in the series, rather than developing the new characters as fully-fledged characters for their own sakes. 

.

Moroha is was the only thing I actually liked about the series. She is a little spitfire and you can somehow instantly see both Inuyasha and Kagome in her, while she also remains very uniquely herself; I have never seen such a successfully developed main pairing child in any series. She featured quite prominently in the first few episodes -- and unlike both her parents, she’s got a great memory and knowledge of lore -- where she balanced funny moments with badass fighting moments and being the token supernatural encyclopedia. It was great! And then... they’ve like... forgotten her. She’s been left behind so many times by the twins. She’s the butt of every joke. She’s become the type of comic relief that’s, well, insulting. More like a buffoon than anything else. And it’s basically all for the sake of giving the floor to Towa :/

.

Setsuna is okay. Not offensive, but unremarkable. She’s got her dad’s personality but like way toned down due to her different growing up circumstances, which is nice, but like... I feel she isn’t given any room to grow or breathe or anything. She’s also basically there as a device to enhance Towa’s development.

.

Towa... oy. I tried to like her, I really did, but she just doesn’t work for me. They set her up having a very Kurosaki Ichigo type deal with beating up bullies and getting into trouble at school and shit -- I’m fine with that. That’s cool. Esp if it’s linked to not feeling like she fits in bc she’s a hanyou? Awesome. Except once she travels back in time to the feudal era it’s all “Oh killing is bad you shouldn’t kill people” and “even though they attacked me I can’t possibly hurt them” and “you need to empathize and talk things out” and “friendship is magic” and shit. It feels like she had a personality transplant, it literally makes no sense. Her design is totally nonsensical too -- out of everyone at her school, she’s the only one dressed in a bright white suit? Do protags not wear the school uniform? Someone should tell Kagome lmao. She’s a pro at hand to hand, and she can absorb demons’ powers and fling them back at them like a personified Tessaiga, and she has a lightsaber sword, and she’s immune to miasma, and -- like... you get it. It’s too much. It’s way too OP for the type of universe that Inuyasha/Yashahime is set in. She’s hanyou for fuck’s sake; remember all the training Inuyasha had to go through? When he couldn’t lift his sword? When his sword attacked him? Sango, Miroku, Kagome, even Sesshomaru all had trouble with their weapons and had to work to become stronger. But Towa? Nope. Towa is straight out of the Yas Queen/Girl Boss manual, so she gets a free pass on everything.

.

UGH they are doing the VLD/bad writing thing where things happen (like, BIG THINGS) and none of the characters actually react to them. Or stuff happens and there are no consequences. No one ever talks about anything. It’s wild.

.

Everyone has amnesia!! :D People either don’t know or don’t remember anything or anyone. People who absolutely should know things all of a sudden magically don’t know them. Like, Kohaku -- traveled with an undead priestess, spent years in the company of demons, traveled with Sesshomaru... and yet had NO CLUE that Setsuna is Sesshomaru’s daughter or that she is hanyou, despite her living and working with his team of demon slayers all this time. Like... how, man. How. And Kaede! Don’t get me started. Since when does she perpetuate random demon-boogeyman type stories as facts? Demon children will kill each other in the nest so that only the strongest one will survive, therefore Setsuna must have killed Towa when they were infants. O_O What are they, sharks? Has she been hanging out with Kisame? Wtf?? And she’s speaking about Sess’s kids as though she doesn’t know him or anything about him, when she has had Rin under her roof all these years. It just makes. no. sense.

.

Things that happened in the original series are happening again now! Because that’s the best we’ve got, recycled plot elements wooo! No, but really, characters that died or things that were resolved in Inuyasha keep coming back. Why? What was the purpose of bringing back Kinka and Ginka? To have a foil for Towa and Setsuna as twins? Someone please tell Sunrise they can just create new characters. Like, it’s one thing to have call backs to the original or cameos, references, whatever. But like... this is entire (dead) characters and interactions.

.

No one knows how long it’s been since the original series ended. Fans initially heard 20 years from promo material, then “over 15″ and “10 years since” in-series regarding two different events, and now in a future episode summary we’ve gotten 18 years since Hosenki II gave Inuyasha the black pearl. But like, which black pearl? Because the one in Inuyasha’s eye doesn’t exist anymore, but Hosenki II had told Inuyasha that it would take 100 years for him to produce one. So, are we retconning that or where the fuck did it come from? Also, this doesn’t help one bit, it just confuses things even more. Back to the point, though, we have no coherent timeline or real frame of reference whatsoever, and I’m betting it’s in large part to keep the mystery of who is Sesshomaru’s wife going, as it keeps Rin’s age very vague. Everything is vague and mysterious in Yashahime, to the point where no one knows what’s going on, in fandom or in-story even. It’s kinda like how too much plot twist/shock reveal ruins a story, too much mystery does the same. It’s insane that both shippers and antis of that ship can lay equal claim that the “18 years since” announcement works in their favor.

tl;dr: Idk man, Yashahime is a clusterfuck of a series. Even if the mother of Sess’s twins is either of the characters I ship him with, I will still not like the series. There’s no saving this writing. Every episode feels like this:

[inactiive-shit]

"If you die, I'm going to kill you" with Logince?

Hey! Thank you so much for the prompt, I had a lot of fun writing this. I hope you like it, my guy!

Title: Icarus

Words: 1,742

I am going to put this under a read more because it got long. Hope you don’t mind! Let’s-a go!

Logan glares up at Roman’s shrinking figure. Roman, in true Prince-family fashion, had ignored all of Logan’s well-meaning and factually correct warnings and climbed the tree. It is a very tall, old tree and had very sparse branches the higher up he goes.

And he is going so very, very high.

“Roman, must you do this? We were having a nice, peaceful walk.” Logan rubs his temples but his eyes never waver from Roman.

“C’mon, Specs. It’s for science. Besides, did you start dating me for nice and peaceful?” Logan flushes, but he will not dignify that with a response.

“You realize that you are recreating the age-old legend of Icarus, don’t you?” Logan calls after him. He can’t stop himself from trying to persuade Roman down, even when he hears Roman’s laugh traveling down the tree and feels it wrapping around his chest like some strange, comforting force.

“You’ll have to remind me,” he says, voice echoing all over the forest. He sounds so assured and fearless, nearly ethereal, as though he were invincible, and for a moment Logan almost believes it. But he knows that if Roman gets hurt, Logan will not be able to move him back to the car alone, and the cell reception out here is spotty at best. Logan’s heart is in his throat while he watches Roman use another branch to pull himself higher. “I can’t quite remember that one.”

“Falsehood,” Logan mutters. Roman was the one who had the Greek phase. He knows each and every myth and legend like the back of his hand. He would not just forget one, and especially not Icarus.

“What’s that?” Roman says even though Logan knows there is absolutely no way that his voice would have been audible Roman at all.

“I said that you are a poor liar at best, which is astounding as you claim to be such a wonderful actor.” Roman makes an ‘offended Princey noise’ and Logan snorts. “But if you insist on playing the part of the ignorant fool, I will comply. Icarus attempted to escape from Crete by flying on wings that his father created from feathers and wax. Except,” Logan’s voice took on a far-away quality that he was not even entirely aware of, “when he truly could fly, he became arrogant and would not heed any warnings given to him. He believed he would be able to touch the sun. But he flew too high, and the heat of the sun melted the wax, and Icarus fell into the sea. He never escaped from Crete.” Logan pauses, lost in the way the myth happens, the way history can be written by tragedies or by triumphs, the way everything that can be done will be and every folly will follow with it.

Not every venture is rewarded.

Logan suddenly comes back to himself and shakes the reverie off of himself like a dog shakes water. “You are getting very close to the sun, my Prince.”

“Not nearly close enough,” Roman says. Logan is about to sigh but gets cut short when a branch cracks and Roman yelps.

“Roman, are you okay?” Logan runs frantically back and forth under the tree, trying to see if Roman is hurt or if he’s going to fall. He is far enough away that Logan can’t make out any details. “I swear to god, if you die, I’m going to kill you!” he shouts.

Roman laughs and Logan can tell it is the half nervous, half excited giggle that Logan has always loved. It usually means adventure and fun, but Logan’s well aware, in this moment, that Roman can get just as excited about the negative possibilities as the positive.

“You’ve been reduced to nonsense phrases, nerd.” Roman’s voice is as loud and steady as ever. “Promise, I’m safe. I wasn’t even touching the branch that broke.”

“Roman,” Logan says.

“One more second.” Slowly, Roman spreads his arms out to either side.

Logan’s breath catches in his throat as he stares up at his boyfriend. He looks radiant with the gold of the setting sun outlining him against the rich pink of the evening sky. Logan knows that beauty is a construct, an impossible standard set by society, something that is different for every person, but as he looks up at Roman and takes in every bit of gorgeous, burning life that drips from him, and every bit of dazzling, ravishing fearlessness that makes the world pause and lean toward him, Logan knows irrevocably that Roman has surpassed every standard made to hold them back and stands on his own pedestal, somewhere entirely untouchable to most.

“It’s beautiful, Lo,” he says, barely loud enough for Logan to hear.

And Logan wants to say, you are an incomparable beauty in this world, but instead he says, “Get down from there,” and Roman finally does. He descends the tree quickly and gracefully, as easily as Logan might turn the page of a good book, and then he is standing in front of Logan, a smirk lending his features an air of mischief. It does little to quell the urge Logan has to kiss him, but he refrains.

“You are not invincible, you know,” he says quietly.

“Nothing’s killed me yet,” Roman snarks, but then he gently reaches out and takes ahold of Logan’s hands. “And nothing will any time soon if I have anything to say about it. I swear, my King,” he kisses the backs of Logan’s hands, “I am yours forever.” Then he pulls Logan into a hug, which he reciprocates easily. Roman drops a kiss on the top of his head and it makes Logan bury his face in Roman’s chest.

He supposes if Roman is going to do dangerous things, the least Logan can get out of the deal is a little affection. Plus, Roman’s heart creates a beautiful, steady beat in his chest. It is one of the most calming sounds that Logan has ever heard.

“You forgot part,” Roman suddenly says into his hair.

“What?” Logan asks, voice slow.

“Part of the story of Icarus,” he says. “He flew too close to the sun, but it was the most beautiful thing he ever saw, and the most wondrous he ever felt. To have the heat of the sun warm his back, to have the sea stretched out before him, open and inviting, to experience a second of that same feeling Helios must feel as he pulls the sun in its arc across the sky in a golden chariot; it is the most anyone could ever ask for. Maybe his end was a sacrifice worth making.”

Logan thinks of Roman in the tree, the way the sun shone golden off his hair and skin, creating an impenetrable halo of youth and beauty and naiveté around him. He thinks of Roman reaching the top, the way the world must have looked so large and exciting, piquing every curiosity for any adventure he could imagine. He thinks of Roman watching the world, seeing the sun as it set and perhaps feeling as though he was, for one glorious moment, guiding the chariot Helios used to lead the sun.

Logan thinks of all the things Roman could have felt, and then he thinks of the way Roman came back down the tree. For Logan.

“Perhaps,” Logan agrees. “Perhaps to some such an experience would be worthy of the end it caused. But you are no Icarus.”

“No,” Roman says. “Who would ask for the sun when I already have the whole universe?” He cups Logan’s face in his hands and stares into his eyes, a smile gentling his features. He leans down and Logan leans up, and the kiss is soft and breath-taking, and every emotion Roman must have felt when he was on top of the world spirals through Logan, as shocking as a rainstorm in the desert.

Logan has never needed the same kind of adventure Roman has to feel like he was living life to the fullest. Logan could live a perfectly sound existence with only the company of books and an occasional walk through the woods. But out here, existing with Roman, pulled away from the peaceful familiarity of his books and quiet corners, Logan is thrown headlong into a rush of feelings he did not even know he could encounter personally. The world is loud and bright and painted in exquisite shades of pink and gold and green, and Logan is reminded of the person he loves more than anyone else.

Logan pulls back from Roman, smiling up at him, worry mostly forgotten. It is true that folly follows with every possible path. But for some, like Roman, that folly is merely something others will say and never something that will happen. So Logan leans into his chest and sticks his hand into Roman’s back pocket.

“It’s time to leave,” he says.

“I suppose it is.” Roman keeps one arm wrapped around Logan’s shoulder as they start walking back to the path together. “You should climb the next tree with me.”

“Absolutely not. There will be no ‘next tree.’” Roman laughs, and Logan smothers a smile. They both know there will be a next tree, or a next zipline, or a next shark dive. Logan can no longer imagine a world where he is not dragged along to whatever crazy, death-defying plan Roman has decided on. Whatever it is, he knows it will be exciting and terrifying all in one. He knows that he will feel that same explosion inside his chest, like butterflies and dynamite, and he knows that there is always a possibility that Roman will eventually overestimate himself, just like Icarus. But this path, the one they have chosen together, over and over again, is a path that is more than worth whatever destination awaits.

Logan squeezes Roman, just slightly. “No more trees.”

“Of course,” Roman says. “What do you think about parachuting?” Logan laughs and relishes in these moments, small and glorious and perfect. They are few and far between, but he has more of them now than ever before and he will make as many of them as he can. Between now and forever, they have plenty of time.

Icarus may have flown too high, but Roman is Logan’s sun, and Logan will not melt. He is stronger than fabricated wings of wax, and with Roman lighting his path there is nothing Logan can’t do.

[tb5-heavenward]

You just know I'm going to ask about Covenant now, right?

well since you two are two of the only people who know about covenant (and i’m sorry bud, your editorial sensibilities are going to have to put up with my stylistic lower caps) and since I’ve finally watched that shitshow of a most recent episode, I am totally down to talk about covenant.

but first let’s talk a little bit about TAG

TAG is terrible.

Visually the show is gorgeous. It has improved by leaps and bounds and it was charming when it started and it is awesome now. WETA are absolutely the bedrock of what makes this show worth watching, and I love the visuals more and more as they continue to push those boundaries. The cinnamontography, etc.

The Thunderbirds are amazing. They are beautiful, intricate, wonderfully clever machines. Their pilots ain’t half bad either. If you know and truly love the show and think about them all as well and deeply as they deserve, I think it’s impossible to honestly pick a favourite. International Rescue is a fantastic premise. The Tracys and their associates are all strong, compelling characters who have been iterated into an updated retro-future and made universally deeper and more interesting.

The bread and butter conceit of the show is awesome, the tension and conflict and creativity around solving complex problems that they manage to demonstrate in the course of a twenty-two minute episode sometimes just boggles the mind. When IR gets put up against the forces of nature and straight bad luck and pure, audacious dumbassery, we have gotten some of the best moments this show has to offer.

And those first season episodes were ugly as shit and everybody sounded the same and there were maybe three spare models between the entire NPC cast, but my GOD did S1 ever have heart. The soul of the show belongs to S1 and no one will change my mind about that. Try it. EOS was incredible. Skyhook was the definition of a balanced ensemble episode. Fireflash. Tunnels of Time. Relic. Recharge. Extraction. S2 came back swinging out of the gate with Ghost Ship. Up from the Depths was an absolute masterclass and actually changed the stakes in the show for the first time. Bolt from the Blue. Power Play. Hyperspeed. We all know which episodes were fucking good as hell. S3 comes out and the visuals have improved yet further. They have firmly found their feet as animators and as actors and as characters. We are finally actually starting to learn about these boys and their father, the most glaringly obvious hole in the show at large. Night and Day. Life Signs. And then SOS 1/2 and a complete and total paradigm shift. There is a sense of mortality to TAG now and it is an edge of realism that SHOULD be able to elevate it beyond what it’s been so far.

And yet.

TAG is fucking terrible.

Five years on, I am entitled to say, TAG is absolutely the goddamn worst sometimes, holy fucking shit. And what makes that terribleness terrible in and of itself—is that it’s because this show fails to recognize its most fundamental strengths. It fails to know what its audience will really connect to. And it’s because the writers’ room must be the goddamn wild west at this point, with the sort of nonsense these fucks are throwing at the wall and hoping to see it stick. It’s because whoever is in charge of the overall narrative arc of these seventy-odd episodes has not done what’s necessary to ensure TAG’s cohesion as a unified work.

(y’all hang onto your butts, i’m gonna do another brick wall metaphor.)

So what we have, five years on and seventy-odd episodes later, is a heap of bricks that WANT to be a wall, and we’re led to the impression that they’re SUPPOSED to be a wall, but they haven’t been put together by any single person. They have been put together by a rotating cast of a few dozen people who orient the bricks they’re given in slightly different ways sometimes, or who lay them at odd angles or who brought their own bricks from home for some reason. David Tennant is there. He must have cost at least half the budget for all of S2. All in all, he’s just another brick in the wall.

We know by this point that there is some asshole vaguely in charge of the idea of the wall. You can kind of tell that he’s at least heard of walls and he would definitely like to build one, but he isn’t exactly making it happen. There is an edifice here. It is wall-like, in some regions. At the end of the day though, most people who come across it also step over it, no problem. Or they chisel out the bricks that look to be worth saving and kick the rest of the wall over. That’s just fandom. That’s what fandom does.

Now, it is necessary at any point when talking about children’s media to talk about another series that ran three seasons over sixty-one episodes, and covered a level of geopolitical conflict over the course of a single year from the perspective of five incredibly gifted young people, all of whom were complex and flawed and sympathetic, and who knew they were responsible with putting the world to right with their own hands and set about doing that in the face of incredible odds, against villains who were no less than ruthlessly sociopathic.

ATLA sets a high bar. TAG was never going to be ATLA.

But fuck, I wish it had tried.

I wish the people who had set out to remake this story had sat down together and said, “Over the course of the next three seasons, we will tell the story of what International Rescue is. We will explain how it came to be. We will have strong themes that persist through the show and repeat themselves for emphasis: One Problem At A Time, You Can’t Save Everyone, Someone Has To Try. We will explain who these boys are and how they came to be this way. We will make it deeply and obviously clear what they do, how they do it, and why. We will give them limits. We will let them fail. We will give them flaws, we will let them clash with each other. We will let them grow and change. We will give them one deep, powerful loss that is the bedrock of what they became. We will put a powerful force in the world that loathes and opposes them at all costs. We will give them a tiny fragment of hope to chase and chase and chase and let them catch it only at the moment when they’v’e finally learned that they can let it go.”

I wish there had been rules. I wish there hadn’t been a new villain crammed into every season, in a show where the villains are objectively the weakest part. To add four villains to a show that barely has room for one and then to expect to make them ALL have a sympathetic edge somehow—it’s absolute fucking idiocy. I don’t care that The Hood is Kayo’s Uncle and Smiled In a Picture One Time. I don’t care that The Mechanic Is Apparently Being Mind Controlled Though No Indication Of That Was Given At Any Point in His History Until We Were Told So Explicitly. I don’t fucking CARE that Havoc Gets Yelled At By Her Boss Who Is Mean. I don’t give a shit that Fuse Is Apparently Too Stupid To Have Recognized The Moral Component Of Any Of His Criminal Acts Up Until He Inflicts Them On The Tracys.

You know which villains are objectively incredible in this show? Langstrom Fischler. Professor Harold. Francois Lemaire. Ned Fucking Tedford, who is a villain on the grounds that he is an obstacle, a problem to be solved, a concept of a person so hapless that they have multiple times strayed in the most incredible kind of peril. The strongest villains in this show are the ones who are just PEOPLE. People who are being careless. Or who are being greedy. Or who are being self-aggrandizing. People who exhibit traits equal and opposite to what our boys in blue exemplify.

I don’t know. We’re coming to the end of S3, we’re nearing their grand, incredible climax, this promised moment of potential reunion—and I wish I cared. I really wish I could. But there’s so much clutter. There’s so much their pulling DIRECTLY out of their asses in the home stretch. There are so many loose threads, there are so many concepts that were introduced and then never explored, or which were introduced in the end game and then never reinforced. There is so much information that we should have had from the start, so many mysteries that went unsolved and uncared about because they were unmentioned. There is not enough room for them to resolve anything in a meanignful way. There it so much that it seems like THEY didn’t know, and they SHOULD HAVE. They had time. Five fucking years, they had so much time to figure this out. And yet.

anyway.

So, covenant. Covenant basically a codeword for what I would’ve done differently, the last time I got mad about this whole endemic problem with the writing in this show, round about two years ago now.

Covenant is just a good word, really, and while it means something as a title, that relevance has kind of degraded a bit. It was going to be a rewrite of the end of Season 2, and sort of a retrofitting of Season 2 as a whole. It was going to explore the ideas that they put down and then never picked up, it was going to seriously address a lot of the core conflicts in the show and set things in motion to resolve those problems. I have it started. I have a good couple thousand words of the beginning, but it’s a good enough beginning that it could potentially begin something else, and so I won’t publish it here, in case I end up using it somewhere else. As is, it’s a priveleged-eyes-only sort of work, it’s only really been passed around my inner circle. If anyone is interested in hearing more about that, hit me up and I’ll elabourate. But for now, it is quarter past eleven, and I have ranted for long enough.

[mysticdrabbles]

Hewwo?? Can you do RFA+3 with an MC that gets WAYY into the holidays? Like, they constantly have a holiday themed outfit and bakes way too many treats? I'm sorry if it's vague or anything! Happy holidays!

This is me most years. I’m behind this year, I’ve been so busy T_T I shall live vicariously through the MC in this post. Happy holidays!

Zen:

Zen likes Christmas too

But he’s usually too busy to get fully into the holidays.

His job takes priority, and he’s often working on some project through the holidays

He’ll gladly wear any holiday themed outfits with you though

Bonus points if you can find anything couples themed. (Like THIS!)

And anytime you two get together it’s like a Disney Christmas special.

One of you starts singing a Christmas song and of course the other has to join in.

Who needs the radio on when you have this man nearby?

He’ll supply you with as much ambient Christmas music as you need.

He’ll even eat all the Christmas treats, since you’re the one who made them!

Yoosung:

Christmaaaas!

He’s the type of person who would gladly wear one of those ugly Christmas sweaters.

(Especially if it makes you happy.)

But he’s usually too busy or depressed to celebrate it properly.

Not to mention too broke. He has one of those mini Christmas trees in his room because it’s all he can afford T_T

He tries to keep up with you when you’re baking but he just 

Can’t.

He mostly just stands by to help you if you need something

And stares at you in awe.

(Both awe of your baking skill and at how much he adores you.)

If neither of you can afford to go as all out with decorations as you want to, you can make some!

Jaehee:

Jaehee has low key dreamed of this type of Christmas. 

But Christmas is a busy time at work, and even when she does get time off she’s usually too stressed to do any decorating or baking. She usually just watches Christmas specials on TV.

She comes home one day to find that her house has been completely festive-ized.

Every inch of the house is decorated in garlands and lights

The smell of gingerbread is drifting through the house

A bare, plastic tree sits in the corner next to a box of ornaments

(You wanted to wait and decorate it with her~!)

The second she walks in the room she stops and stares at it all with wide eyes.

(For a moment you wonder if she’s upset with you. You did do all this to her apartment without asking her, after all.)

She’s not mad. 

At all.

She loves it.

She finally gets to have a real Christmas!

Jumin:

Jumin’s past Christmases have usually been fairly conservative.

He’s done the basics to honour the holiday in the past. Christmas dinners, exchanging gifts, go to church, the basic traditions like that. 

But he’s fascinated to learn about how you celebrate the holiday’s. 

(He wants to participate in poor people Christmas with you.)

He takes a day off work  

(your relationship is so bad for Jaehee’s health i stg)

and spends the entire day decorating and baking with you. 

He’ll even wear a cheesy Christmas outfit, to fully immerse himself in the experience. 

He doesn’t get everything right. When you tell him you want to listen to Christmas carols his first response is “I’ll hire a private band" 

(You’re like “no dude it’s cool I have Spotify” )

And he doesn’t entirely understand why you have to bake all the cookies yourself when he has a private chef who could make you all the cookies you want

But he’ll do it anyways.

Because his favourite part of Christmas?

Is seeing how happy it makes you.

Seven:

Before he met you, and got his brother back, he was always depressed around Christmas.

But now he has a reason to celebrate and he is making up for lost time.

Not to mention he wants to give Saeran the best Christmas ever

He will match everything you do and more.

He’s not trying to make it a competition it’s just how he is sometimes

You’re wearing a holiday sweater? He’s wearing a whole onesie.

Yours lights up? He wires Christmas lights into his glasses and programs them to flash in time with whatever music is playing.

It hurts his eyes but it’s worth it

You’ve baked six different types of Christmas treats so far? He… well, he set the oven on fire because he took on an overly ambitious project to try and one up you. But still!

He even builds a Christmas tree robot. It has wheels and it’s programmed to play follow the nearest person it finds and roll after them playing Christmas music.

(Saeran has to kidnap it and at least add a clock to the program so the damn thing stops trying to follow him back to his room whenever he gets up in the middle of the night.)

Underneath all of the dramatics and competitiveness, he’s really just doing it because he wants to have a real Christmas and spend time with you.

He wants to participate.

And he wants to do things with you.

Saeran:

Saeran has never had a real Christmas either.

And you are the perfect person to introduce him to the wonders of the holiday season.

Because Saeran has always low key envied the general cheer and energy that others seem to feel during the holidays?

He wants to be a part of that too.

But he’s not like his brother. He can’t just let loose and go crazy. (Social anxiety’s a bitch.)

But he can let himself be dragged into it by you.

He gives some token protests every now and then, but it’s clear he’s enjoying every second of it.

He’ll wear ugly Christmas sweaters with you. Because you asked him to, not because he wants to or anything.

He already likes baking, so he’ll gladly help you out. 

(He says it’s because he’s worried you’ll burn the house down or something with all your enthusiasm, but he actually just really wants to bake with you.)

(He also likes sweets, so he’s also more than happy to help you eat them all.)

He actually really enjoys decorating the tree too

You and him and Saeyoung make a bunch of handmade ornaments to put on the tree

(Some of Saeyoung’s creations get vetoed. Nothing that can start fires is touching your tree, idiot.) 

He loves decorating the tree with you and Saeyoung. It makes it feel personal. Like its actually his. Like he’s part of it.

V:

When you tell V you like Christmas, he’s like

“Oh, me too!”

He has no idea.

When he says he likes Christmas, he means he enjoys the peaceful feeling and the general aesthetic

Snow falling, soft Christmas-tree-lit pictures and fireplaces, that kind of thing.

You are a whole other level

And V is an enabler.

You found a great new cookie recipe online but you’re out of sugar because you’ve already baked four other great cookie recipes you found online? He buys you more and wishes you good luck on your next recipe.

You want to bake this next batch of cookies but the tarts aren’t done baking yet. He will literally buy you a second oven so you can bake even more sweets.

You’ve been wearing Christmas sweaters every day for the past week but you ran out and now you have to wash them. Don’t worry, he’ll just buy you more to wear until the laundry is done.

He will buy you every single Christmas decoration your local Michael’s has to offer if that’s what you want.

He just wants his love to be happy.

He likes drawing little sketches of you while you work on decorating and baking, trying to capture the light in your eyes as you do something you love.

(He’ll help you too, if you want him to! But he’ll still stop to snap pictures of you every now and then.)

Vanderwood:

Vanderwood has never got to celebrate Christmas.

They’re one of those people who see it as kind of commercialized nonsense tbh? 

They don’t get it

It’s not jealousy at all nope

Until they get to participate.

You buy them a Santa hat that has leopard print fuzz instead of white and they just

They’ve never loved anything more in their entire life.

They don’t even care that Seven makes fun of them for it. 

You got it for them and it’s theirs and they love it so he can shut it.

They’re never going to be the type of person who decorates a ton or sings carols while baking christmas cookies

But… they kinda like it when you do it.

It’s relaxing.

Domestic.

They could get used to this.

Want to see more? 

Visit my Masterlist

Or request something new!

[sibilantly]

hi, sib. i sent you an ask about writing a while ago and you were super helpful, but i have found myself in yet another conundrum - i'm blocked. it took me some time to figure out why, and i'm pretty sure it's 'cause i'm supposed to be starting my mfa this fall and i'm just scared shitless. i'd really appreciate some advice on how to unblock the block. i just feel so useless right now. this nonsense in my head is honestly wearing me down.

You sent this several months ago, dear writing anon (as I now dub thee), and I’m terribly sorry I haven’t replied before now. RL got in the way of my online/fandom time again, but, more than that, I’ve been musing and reflecting on the situation you described, and I’ve only recently been able to marshall it all into semi-coherence. I assume you’ve started your MFA already (CONGRATULATIONS, BY THE WAY!), so all this navel-gazing and advice may be moot, but on the off-chance you’re still stymied, here’s my take and (for what it’s worth) my advice:

The thing about ‘writer’s block’ (air quotes), which you seem to have figured out already, is that it’s really emotional block. And the most common emotion is fear.

It’s not surprising, really, when you consider the fact that writing is both a craft and an art. (Well… alright, every art form is a combination of craft and art - of technical skill and vision - but we’re just going to focus on writing right now). And, just like every other art form, the very best writing requires self-expression. Think of your favourite authors, both published and in fandom. Could you ever mistake their writing for another author’s? I’m willing to bet my last dollar that your answer will be ‘no’.

However, self-expression also means baring yourself. It means producing a piece of writing that says, in effect, ‘this is what I think, this is what I feel - this is how I see the world, this is my perspective on this trope/theme/topic, this is me’, and putting it out there to be looked at and judged by strangers. Strangers who may then have all sorts of reactions and opinions - negative ones, even - about not just your work, but about you.

And for the vast majority of people (myself included), that is fucking terrifying on a visceral, lizard brain level. In prehistoric times (or… whenever… anthropology is not my strong suit), being rejected by others meant isolation, which in turn meant increased risk of starvation or death by megafauna. We’re not in prehistoric (or whatever) times anymore, but rejection and negative judgement still hurts and looms large in our psyches because… well, the lizard brain is a powerful motherfucker that has gotten our species this far. It’s like that douchebag in your social circle that you just can’t drop entirely because they’re handy/annoyingly right in certain situations.

Anyway.

I suppose what I’m trying to say is: take heart, writing anon. You’re in good and numerous company. This fear - this emotional block - you feel is common. It’s unbelievably common. I personally grapple with it every week. Like, literally every week. From a certain evolutionary perspective, you could even say the fear is reasonable (DEATH BY MEGAFAUNA).

…however, that perspective is severely unhelpful in motivating one to write, so let us acknowledge said perspective like it’s an acquaintance we’re on nodding terms with, and move on.

The fact of the matter is, we’re not in prehistoric-whatever times anymore. Rejection will not kill us, no matter what the lizard brain keeps shrieking. And while the lizard brain is powerful, it’s also primitively dumb. Which means we can trick it.

There is a reason why pretty much every notable book on the art and craft of writing will have a chapter or a section which says, essentially: half the battle is getting your arse in the chair.

It’s because, a great majority of the time, getting started really is the biggest hurdle. Once you’re actually slapping some words onto a page? It may be painful, it may present its own challenges, but it usually doesn’t require as much effort as just. Getting. Started.

As the number of days you spend not writing builds up, the act of writing - even the mere thought of it - becomes more and more psychologically loaded, more threatening to your sense of self. ‘YOU’RE GONNA BE REJECTED AND STARVE TO DEATH IN THE DESERT,’ says the lizard brain. The more rational part of your brain says, ‘You’ve spent all this time not writing. When you finally summon up the power to do so, by some act of God, it’s going to come out mediocre, at best, because you’re out of practice. Why bother?’

And, look– to be honest, rational brain will probably be right regarding your restart writing attempts coming out mediocre. But it’s wrong about it being pointless to start.

Because here is something else you should tell yourself: writing is not just the words you publish. It’s not even just the words you publish plus the words you wrote in draft and then killed because you realised they were darlings. It’s not even all those words and the time you spent brainstorming and outlining. It’s all those words plus that planning plus the emotional work you go through - in character and as yourself - to get those words and ideas out.

Don’t get down on yourself if you have only one hour to write and you spend fifty of those minutes psyching yourself up to write. Psyching yourself up to write is part of writing. You’re getting your arse in the chair.

So, sure, maybe on day one you’ll spend just ten minutes getting some words out. But on day two, when you sit down again, you’ll remember: I did this for ten minutes yesterday. I can do it again. It’s like a gradual stretching and strengthening of a muscle. You should– no, you need to take your time, because writing is a years-long (ideally, lifelong) journey. You’ll need to pace yourself accordingly.

I’m not saying it’s easy. I have spent years devising weird tricks, strategies, and schedules to fool my lizard brain into viewing the act of writing as non-threatening (and sometimes I still fail and will stop writing for a couple days). I know it’s not easy. But it’s doable - you just need to find the right set of tricks and strategies that will fool your lizard brain.

EVERYTHING THAT I, SIB, HAVE PERSONALLY DONE TO FOOL THE LIZARD BRAIN

1. Automate that shit - COME UP WITH A VERY, VERY SIMPLE PRE-WRITING ACTION

Okay, so at this point, you might be going, ‘Great, Sib, but how do I get myself to start?’

And I say: ‘Automate that shit’. You can make the initial action (usually the action that requires the most effort) more likely to happen by making it very, very simple.

For (a non-writing) example, I have a weird thing about dishes. I don’t like doing them. What I don’t mind doing, however, is clearing the dish rack. But what tends to happen is, once I’ve cleared the dish rack and find myself standing beside the sink, I think, ‘well, since I’m already here…’

That’s what you need to trigger with writing - that casual thought of, ‘well, since I’m already here…’. The point of the pre-writing action is to trick yourself (or, at least, your lizard brain) into perceiving writing as being so simple, so easy and non-threatening, it’d be almost silly to not do it. This is especially important if you haven’t written in so long that writing has come to resemble a nigh-insurmountable mountain or a time bomb strapped right against your heart and your sense of self-worth.

Even if you don’t do anything else that I suggest (seriously, you don’t have to, I’m just listing everything I’ve tried on the off-chance that it might work for you), I’d say this is the strategy to try. The whole point of it is that it should require almost no effort to perform. Why not do it?

My personal pre-writing action is fifteen minutes of free writing/journalling (‘I’m not writing, lizard brain, I’m just talking to myself’). You don’t have to do that. But whatever action you choose to go with, make sure it’s easy and flows on automatically to writing. The point isn’t to force yourself. If you’re forcing yourself, the action is too complicated. You’re removing the automaticity of the process, and the whole point is automaticity.

Examples of pre-writing actions you could do:

1. Sitting in your dedicated writing spot. Just sitting there. You don’t have to write. But since you’re already there…

2. Summarising the last scene/chapter you wrote. You don’t have to write anything new. But since you’ve already picked up that pen or typed out that sentence…

3. Making a cup of tea (or coffee or whatever) and thinking about your writing as it steeps. You don’t have to do anything with the idea you came up with. But since it’s already formed… ;)

I know it can be embarrassing to set your bar so ‘low’, because it feels like you’re admitting you’re incapable. But you’re not incapable. You’re just human. You have multiple responsibilities, coupled with limited time and limited resources, both physical and mental. You’re doing the best you can with the time, ability, and energy you have. No one can expect more of you than that. You, especially, should not expect more of yourself than that.

2. Grab a notebook or open a document, and DESCRIBE YOUR PROCRASTINATION BEHAVIOUR(S) IN SPECIFIC, OBSERVABLE TERMS. Don’t just say ‘I avoid writing’ - be specific (says Arthur).

For example, here are some things from my list:

I open up my WIP, stare at the cursor, and tap the page up/down/delete/backspace keys for thirty minutes

When my reminder alarm for writing goes off, I open up my WIP, then open tumblr in another browser

I do all the household chores when it’s time to write

3. Take that list of behaviours and WRITE DOWN AT LEAST ONE SPECIFIC, ACTIONABLE SOLUTION FOR EACH BEHAVIOUR. You may come up with more than one solution for each behaviour. It’s fine. Write all of them down.

Here is what I came up with for the above:

Staring at the cursor: 

Pull the page up/down and backspace keys off the keyboard (this didn’t work for me.)

 Free write for fifteen minutes before starting ‘real’ writing (which has, yes, become my pre-writing ritual. It works beautifully for me because, after 5-10 minutes, it tends to segue into ‘real writing’. As in, I’ll start off writing like I’m telling a friend about what should happen next in the story - complete with tangents and sentences full of ‘and then he’s like, you know, completely aghast’ - and then as I relax and get more into the story, I drift into draft prose and dialogue.)

Opening tumblr at the same time as my WIP:

Install Clear Focus on my phone and StayFocusd on all browsers, and put a strict limit on tumblr

Write longhand in a notebook and then transcribe (this is my go-to solution these days)

Doing household chores instead of writing:

Schedule writing time only after I finish all chores (this is a meh solution for me - I can always find new things to clean, if I’m really, really trying to avoid writing.)

Write one hour before bed/when exhausted (this is like the non-alcoholic version of the apocryphal Hemingway edict ‘write drunk, edit sober’. Exhaustion gives you all the benefits of writing without your conscious filter with none of the cirrhosis or other alcohol-related diseases!)

Stick these lists up wherever you tend to write. Now whenever you catch yourself engaging in one (or more) of these procrastination behaviours, you also have a solution (or solutions). Again, it will not necessarily be easy. But in knowing your bad habits and being prepared for them, you’re setting yourself up for a much better chance of success, and reducing the likelihood that you’ll slip down the procrastination shame spiral. The rest is the unglamorous process of trying, maybe failing, and then trying again.

4. On the cognition side of things, ASK YOURSELF: WHY DO YOU WANT TO WRITE?

Why, given all the frustration and fear and isolation (because writing is a bit of a lonely thing, at times), do you keep trying? Write every reason you have down, and be honest about it. No one is going to see this list but you.

The reason I suggest you do this is because there will be days (or weeks, or months) where it feels like all you’re doing is eking out paragraph after paragraph of dreck. It’ll feel awful. And if you don’t know why you’re writing - if you have no goal to set your sights upon, or no internal touchstone to remind you why you’re putting yourself through this - it’ll be so much more tempting to give up.

5. I’ve said this to you before, but I’ll say it again because if you’re anything like me (and I’m still riding on the assumption we’re at least a little alike, because every message you send me I’m like, ‘ah, man, yeah, I feel you, I feel you’), some advice requires repeating before it sinks in. Especially when the advice is unglamorous. So. SET YOURSELF A SMALL, ACHIEVABLE WRITING TARGET, be it a word count or a set amount of time each day.

And when I say small, I mean small. If writing 100 words a day feels uncomfortable, set your target at 50. If writing for one hour is exhausting, set your target at 30 minutes (or 15, like I did! :D).

ONE MORE THING

Writing requires discipline.

There is the discipline of sitting down and doing the work, every day, even if you’re not feeling it, of course. We’ve all heard that advice, and we’ve all (at some point or another) gotten royally pissed off at it.

But there is another sort of discipline, one that flows on from doing the work every day. In working through the fear, you teach yourself that these periods of mediocre writing or zero writing are temporary, just little halts in your overall writing journey. That’s a kind of discipline, too - training yourself to believe, heart and mind, that the fear will pass, and the words are always with you, even if they’re not coming out the way you want. It’s just going to take time. Be patient, and be kind to yourself (which I know can be hard).

You’re not useless. You’re not failing at anything by being afraid, because the fear - and learning to work through the fear - is as much a part of the writing process as getting the words down. And the value of writing for a writer is not in the finished result, not really. It’s in the act of creating, in being willing to start, to try. If you’re psyching yourself up to try, then hey. That’s half the battle already.

You can do it, anon! I’m still rooting for you!

(P.S.: You’re more than welcome to message me off anon using tumblr’s chat function

[awed-frog]

Hey! So obviously everyone loved the episode last night - there was just so much destiel feels in there it's enough to fill up an entire football stadium. BUT I keep thinking that the writers might be trying to set Cas and Kelly up, because you know, it's supernatural, and I just feel like the possibility of destiel going canon is too good to be true. I mean, Kelly is great, but it would be the worst romance ever - weird and force and kinda cringey. Maybe I'm paranoid, idk. What do you think?

(via @anon) Idk if i like where this story is going… i dont want to see cas kelly baby stories and him raising the child :/ i want cas with the brothers :(

Hi - I’m squishing these two asks together, hope you guys see it. :)

The Nephilim: what’s next?

Look, the thing is - maybe the Nephilim will die in the finale, or maybe he’ll be the Big Thing in S13 - we still don’t know. What we do know, on the other hand, is that it would be very hard to work him into the story in a way that’ll keep Cas away from Sam and Dean. Like, you know - from a narrative point of view, what do you do with this thing?

Option 1 It’s born and it grows at a normal human rate. If this happens, the Nephilim will have no place whatsoever in the show, because babies are both hard to work with and boring boring boring, and as much as we, the demented viewers, want to see Dean and Cas making nonsense noises and cooing at this second Antichrist, it’s not going to happen. If this is where they’re going, we’ll have a Jesse situation: the Nephilim will be carted off to live with some other hunter (not Cas, because Cas is one of the main characters and is needed elsewhere), and we’ll never hear from him again. 

Option 2 It’s born and grows Amara-style, turning from adorable creepy baby who moves stuff with his mind to overly attractive teenager who winks at Dean and makes him uncomfortable. I hope they’ll avoid this narrative, because we’ve seen the exact same thing last year, but if they do something like that -

Option 2a If the Nephilim is a bad guy, he’ll probably become S13′s Big Baddie, and Cas will have no reason to stick with him, so we’ll have the usual ‘only you can break me free from this mind control spell but nobody knows why’ trope and TFW will spend the rest of the season staring gloomily into space and wondering how to kill a semi-god, again.

Option 2b If the Nephilim is a good guy, he’s gone. There is simply no way they can keep around an allpowerful and benign deity without having massive problems. This is why they keep hurting Cas, remember?, because if Cas had his wings and his courage and his cold logic and his angelic self-confidence, Sam and Dean could spend their days playing beer pong in the Bunker. Cas would simply teleport himself wherever a monster has been spotted, look around with his x-ray vision, and then lift a finger and make a whole abandoned neighbourhood explode. And that’s it. So, well - like they did with Jesse, and even with Amara and Chuck - if this new kid is a Good Person, he’ll probably wander off on his own.

Option 2c If the Nephilim is a Gabriel-like morally grey trickster, it’s likely the Winchesters will still vote to hunt him down and kill him. They did it to Gabriel, after all, and if he hadn’t died (*wails forever*) in the war against Lucifer, I’m sure Sam, at the very least, would have gone after him. Tricksters work fine, or more than fine, as characters, but you don’t want one living in the same reality as you. Look at the messes Loki manages to whip up every couple of weeks - nope, if something is too powerful and you can’t understand how they think and feel, unfortunately the best option is to take them out. Better to be safe than sorry.

It’s still possible, at this point, that something happens and the Nephilim dies, likely with Kelly. This would make sense for a number of reasons, including that everyone except Cas, Lucifer and Kelly really wants this thing gone. The Host is gunning for him, Crowley would surely prefer he died, the BMoL (if they knew about him) would probably launch a nuclear grenade wherever Kelly is and to hell with ‘collateral damage’, and even Sam and Dean - they want to be normal and kind, but they might have no other choice, and if it comes to that, they know they must at least try to kill this child, because, yeah, NOT A CHILD, PEOPLE, and look at what happened with Amara. So maybe it’s not the Nephilim’s life that’s the big plot of next season, but his death and how it happens. We know we’re headed for some massive family conflict, and, in this sense, what’s going on with Cas is part of that. It’s those old what’s right and wrong, who’s your family, who do you trust questions Supernatural likes to throw at us, but, as we’ve seen in the past, whatever happens the endgame is what Dean just told us to our faces - him, Sam, and Cas working together, Team Free Will, because they’re better together and they’re family and that’s not gonna change, demonic baby or no demonic baby. So don’t worry too much - Cas won’t stay away for long.

Cas and Kelly: a romance in the works?

As for the romance part - I really don’t think that’s going to be a thing. I’m actually very surprised by the fact Supernatural’s gone out of its way, both in S11 and in S12, to show us that what you’d consider as ‘normal’ and ‘appropriate’ love stories aren’t a good idea at all. While we’ve seen some (brief but) wholesome examples of queer relationships, there’s usually something wrong with straight ones - from Kelly sleeping with Lucifer to those rabid people breeding in the street in The Chitters to that guy killing Sam to save his wife in Red Meat all the way down to the most glaring example - Amara’s unhealthy obsession with Dean - it seems the show is doing a lot to question the ‘normal’ way of doing things (getting married, having babies, ???, profit). 

This is not surprising, since Supernatural, despite the monsters and the occasional blurring of focus, can be really ferocious in its social critique, and the breaking down of traditional marriage, just as the current erosion of women’s rights, are just as apparent as Supernatural’s traditional motive: the deindustrialization, and death by unemployment and desperation, of rural America. Like, I know we’ve all noticed that rich people normally equal jackasses, and we all joke about the ‘abandoned factory of the week’, but watching this show from Europe, where our traditional media vision of the US is glittering cities and top models and trust fund kids sipping cocktails by the pool, is really shocking. Those rapidly depopulating towns they stop into, the motels in the middle of nowhere, and even - can’t believe they went there - some meat processing plant kept alive by human sacrifices - that’s powerful stuff, and part of the reason, I think, this show is so appealing to Republicans. And, as I said, Supernatural’s been showing the breaking down of traditional families as well - only this season, we’ve spent some time with Jody and her unusual household of stray and rejected kids, and seen Mary walk away instead of assuming her ‘appropriate’ role of stay-at-home mom for Sam and Dean. 

Cas and Kelly, I think - that’s the same pattern. Apparently, Kelly now regrets her relationship with President Whatshisface (“embarrassingly unprofessional,” she terms it) which is, again, a reversal of the traditional ‘the commoner married the prince and they lived happily ever after’ trope, because Kelly seemed happy and in love and it looked like the perfect thing, right? And we now know it wasn’t. So, again, this thing with Cas - on the surface, it could be a perfect ‘a child needs a mom and a dad’ kind of situation, but Supernatural’s message, which has gotten almost deafening over the last two seasons, is that free will and love trump all - that you shouldn’t do something just because that’s what we’ve always done - that you should queston things, find your own way, be true to who you are. So, well - Kelly is not a 1950s Stepford mom (she used to work in the White House, remember? which means she’s incredibly career-driven and most likely a shark) and Cas is no longer a mindless servant of some divine entity. It’s perhaps easier, for both of them, to go with that for a moment, because this is what they’re supposed to be - women are supposed to take care of children and be mothers even if it kills them, and angels are supposed to be fully dedicated to the mission and follow orders no matter the price - but the truth is, we have free will. We can decide who we want to be, and this is why Cas and Kelly teaming up rings so wrong and will never be framed in a positive light. So, again - whether Destiel becomes canon or not, Cas’ place is with the Winchesters, and this is just one more obstacle to overcome. That it takes the shape of that traditional family Cas was encouraged to form as a human and Dean can never give him (the pretty wife and the chubby baby), well, that was unnecessary and yet another fuck you to legally enforced normativity.

[alwayskaysanova]

what did you think of the tvd final? it felt rushed to me and i'm even more upset now ive seen all the interviews with kevin saying it was always meant to be stelena and it feels like a slap in the face that they gave us delena but only by default and the delena we got was so lacking everything i loved about them what did you think?

it’s taken me two days to process everything i felt about that finale and i’m still not fully there yet but i’m gonna try to put my feelings down and then move on

firstly, i had a lot of fun watching it with everyone (specifically @lowsodiumfreaks bc it was hilarious) and i am really glad i got to experience this fandom one last time in all its crazy glory

(i’m tagging @insightfuldamon too bc i like yelling my feelings at jackie bc she understands and i love her for it)

immediately after the finale i was content, i was crying, i was thankful for the show and its characters, i was generally A Mess but i was happy about it

yesterday, once i’d had some sleep and a chance to properly look at the finale by watching it again without the fear of my faves dying i was…less happy with it

i’m gonna start by saying what i loved and still love;

BONNIE BENNETT BEING THE ULTIMATE HERO WE ALL KNOW SHE’S BEEN FROM THE BEGINNING

the bennett witches being fucking amazing

that steroline phonecall bc as someone who never really shipped steroline that was the first time i truly felt it and i was so upset on behalf of caroline and stefan that they didn’t even get a day of marriage before death did them part

caroline/alaric and their girls, the whole convo where alaric mentioned liz and caroline got it and chose her girls over stefan bc she knew it was the right thing to do regardless of her love for him she’ll always put her girls first AND GUYS THAT WAS SO AWESOME BC ONE OF CAROLINE’S MAIN CHARACTER POINTS WAS GETTING THE GUY AND SHE LET THE GUY GO IN THE END !!!!!

BONLENA REUNION!! both times were glorious

all the defan. all of it. amazing. the whole scene where they were trying to sacrifice themselves for each other and i didn’t want either of them to die but then damon chose to save stefan and compelled him away AND I WAS SOBBING SO HARD AND SCREAMING AT CHAR but i’d also accepted it and was so proud of damon bc it was such a great moment in his journey

and then the plot twist with stefan tricking damon and turning him human and then sacrificing himself instead AND I WAS EVEN MORE OF A MESS BC I DIDN’T WANT IT AND HISTORICALLY I HAVE HATED STEFAN BUT I DIDN’T WANT HIM TO DIE but it was beautiful that he went out saving everyone

the whole stelena goodbye was a nice nod to their relationship even though i never liked it i adored their goodbye scene

STEFAN AND LEXI AND I WAS FEELING EPIC

the little daroline scene was cute

caroline seeing elena again!! all the girl feels when they were sat on the bench

i did like all the after death reunion scenes and the nods to past characters even if it felt a little too ‘wrap it neatly in a ribbon/all the fuzzy feels/overdone’

all the donovan family feelings were beautiful

now on to the things i didn’t like;

the delena scenes were flat as hell, felt forced, disjointed and just generally Bad

we got no conversation, no last ‘i love you’, no hint of a flashforward into those supposed ‘happy, human lives’

don’t get me wrong i’m content with the endgame and my 12 year old self now feels supremely justified in all her decision makings but it was so U G H purely bc it wasn’t anything

we got the endgame in name only and i didn’t feel it

i have a suspicion most of it was to do with the very obvious bad feeling between ian and nina, though i have to give credit bc i 100% felt everything delena from nina’s side it was ian doing a terrible job which was seriously jarring after how amazing his acting was in the scene with paul when defan were debating who was gonna die

the kiss was awkward, the handholding was awkward, the looks were awkward, EVERYTHING WAS AWKWARD THEY WERE LITERALLY ON SCREEN FOR A MINUTE AND IAN COULDN’T ADULT ENOUGH TO GET THROUGH IT GOOD LORD

but whatever i’m done, it’s over, bye

/side note; the interviews afterwards mean shit to me tbh bc the writers knew that nina was leaving at the beginning of season 6 so if they had ever truly intended stelena to be endgame they had plenty of time to write it and it’s obvious they’re just throwing every fandom a bone bc delena get to claim the endgame but the interviews suggest stelena get to feel justified in thinking stelena was always meant to be

blaming nina leaving is an utterly shitty thing to do so they can fuck off with that nonsense

the bottom line is they wrote the show, they decided the relationship endgames, they CHOSE THE CHARACTER ENDGAMES

their writing is on them and they need to own their decisions and stop trying to appease everyone or shift blame to one fucking actress like she didn’t dedicate her whole damn sanity to the shit they put her through

like the fact she even came back…they didn’t deserve her that’s all i’m gonna say but then they haven’t been deserving kat graham since she arrived so…fuck them basically

/end side note

i was disappointed that there was no dalaric other than the casual mention, there was no denzo, there was no last bamon scene which was utter bullshit considering they are supposed to be best friends though i loved damon mentioning his utter faith in bonnie and i also loved how as soon as bonnie found out damon was off to sacrifice himself she was like ‘nope i’m gonna save their asses’ once again

i’m waiting for a character to embody the title of ‘Queen’ more than bonnie bennett

still waiting

like we literally got a daroline scene but no bamon scene…what. the. frick?

i don’t care for katherine or datherine or steferine so all of that was a complete waste of time for me and the fact that katherine got more than elena in terms of screen time makes me all types of bitter but once again nina owned what she was given so kudos

i’m happy bonnie’s endgame was her getting the fuck out of mystic falls and i realize that their intention with that was to portray her as strong and moving on whilst still having enzo there whenever she needs him but i also can’t ignore the inherent wrongness of the black girl who has sacrificed literally everything of herself being the one who gets the ‘on her own/off to explore the world’ storyline whilst elena gets her happily ever after with damon and caroline gets her family and the future tease of klaus (also fucking africa?? s e r i o u s l y ? ?) whilst bonnie is supposed to be content with a semi love life she can’t really have until she’s dead ! ! ! n o p e 

(like bonnie is literally the only one who ends up alone after she saved every single other character multiple times I’M SO FUCKING ANGRY THAT HER ENDGAME IS COMPLETELY SEPARATE OF EVERYONE ELSE’S LIKE ‘THANKS FOR ENSURING WE LIVED LONG ENOUGH TO GET OUR HAPPILY EVER AFTERS BUT WE’RE FINE NOW BYE’ what the fuck honestly)

but i’m white so i can’t really speak to that racist nonsense and there are hundreds of people in this fandom way more qualified to speak on that than me so i won’t say anymore on it

and then the whole ‘oh we thought maybe matt and bonnie could eventually get together but we left that up to the audience’ bullshit just bc matt’s the only guy left *barf noises*

i love matt but come on (also there wasn’t enough matt for me either)

i never really liked bonenzo but i can deal with it even though it should have been bamon until bonnie died and then i’d have been fine with delena after that bc i am of the opinion that u can have more than one epic love and to me damon was in love with both bonnie and elena and we were robbed but again w/e my multishipping ass will just have to be content with fanfiction

i hate that tyler got nothing but a tiny scene smiling at matt and holding hands with vicki bc they did that character so dirty after giving him such a fantastic journey in the early seasons

listen highkey we should’ve gotten forwood but then klaroline butted in with all its nonsense and tyler lockwood was sacrificed on the alter of shipper bullshit

I HATE THAT WE GOT NO JERLENA REUNION AND IT WASN’T EVEN HINTED AT IN THE WHOLE ‘ELENA DIED THEN REUNITED WITH HER FAMILY’ SCENE

B U L L S H I T

like superficially this finale was good as far as finale’s go, i’ve had to deal with a lot worse, but when u pick it apart and get past the glossy happily ever after sheen it’s kinda false to a lot of the relationships and characters

basically i have a lot of mixed feelings on it but i personally got enough that i can now move on without feeling entirely like i wasted 8 years of my life on the show and 12 years on these characters and relationships tho lbr they never really followed the books anyway

the thing i’m most thankful for about this show is the people i’ve met online through it and if the most i can take away from this experience is the friendships i’ve made with other fans then it’s been worth it

i know some of u won’t agree with everything i’ve said, some might not agree with any of it, but i appreciate u reading it anyway and i hope the finale meant enough to u that u can still be glad u fell into the hellhole that was tvd