"Twilight is about-"
Me: "wolfpack."
"But it's really about this girl who-"
Me: "finds a wolfpack"
"but there's vampires!"
Me: "luckily there's a wolfpack that can destroy them!"
"no it's a love story!"
Me: "yes about the wolfpack!"
"no, you see, bella and Edward-"
Me: "are enemies to the wolfpack but they are too gracious to rip them apart because they're nice like that!"
"But twilight and forks and vamps and high school...!"
Me: "I'm so glad this book about this wolfpack exists, they are amazing!"
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We all know and love zutara's Hades & Persephone parallels. Complimentary opposites constantly being misunderstood as a captor/victim- badboy/goodgirl- edgy/sunshine trope despite significant nuances; being torn between familial and spousal devotion; ruling over their kingdom as equally powerful forces of nature... Good good stuff.
But may I humbly suggest that we have been woefully neglecting the sheer dramatic potential of taang x Eros & Psyche.
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something really gets to me about eiffel and hera talking to themselves while addressing each other - in am i alone now? and the watchtower in particular. i can't say this to you, but you're still the person i want to tell it to. i know there's no way you can hear me, but if you can...
eiffel talks to himself a lot, and he is very used to being alone with no one paying much attention to the things he says, so i'm not sure he ever realized exactly how much until he was on the hephaestus. in the early days of the mission, i imagine hera responded to a lot of eiffel's asides and sort of embarrassed them both. and then that sort of... shifted. their relationship shifted, they got comfortable being around each other, and eiffel's conversations with himself started including hera, too. i like the idea of that as an establishing moment: that, at some point, there was a first time eiffel said something in an empty room, and hera was so used to him talking to himself that she didn't realize it was meant for her, and he asked her, "hera? are you there?"
i imagine hera still talked to eiffel, too, when they all thought he was dead. with each day increasingly longer and more difficult, that she would vent her frustrations to the empty comms room the same way he would've encouraged her to when he was there. she can't talk to anyone the way she can talk to him, and they just... keep talking to each other, even when they can't. they are so much a part of each other, the voice of encouragement and comfort in each other's heads. for so long, all they can really do for each other is talk, and they maintain that connection even in absence. they ask each other "are you there?" like reaching for each other's hands in the dark.
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[rocking back and forth in a corner] it's alright that your writing isn't structured as well as you would've liked, it's alright that it feels shaky and unnatural, it's okay that there's plot holes, what matters is that you keep going, get that idea down on paper, and you can go back and expand on it later. yes even if it's bad yes even if it's messy. and even then if it doesn't feel quite right it's still worthy of respect and love and appreciation because you wrote that with your own two hands and the words came from your own mind. perfection is nothing, improvement is everything, there is no such thing as a perfect piece of writing.
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i must not become a bitter joyless hater. bitter joyless haterism is the mind-killer. genuine bitter joyless haterhood is the little-death that brings total obliteration. i will face my annoyance and frustration. i will permit it to pass over me and through me. and when it has gone past i will turn the inner eye to see its path. where the bitter joyless haterism has gone there will be nothing. only i will remain.
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