#it took years to reclaim it from society and it's mine

[crayonurchin]

In 2021 I suffered a very severe bought of T-OCD, Transgender OCD.

This is a subset of OCD where, despite having never experienced thoughts of not identifying as your current gender (it can happen to all identities) you are suddenly obsessed with the thought 'what if I'm not this gender'?

The difference between T-OCD and actual trans thoughts, is the reaction. I cannot speak for transgender thoughts but I can speak for T-OCD thoughts. Mine were a constant terrifying fear that I was wrong about my identity, that if I didn't transition RIGHT NOW I would become so depressed I'd kill myself, I had constant intrusive thoughts of my breasts cut off like slices of ham, of my genitals being different, of facial hair and a deep voice and (essentially looking like my dad when he was young)

and it was horrible. I was so frightened of losing my femininity, something I really cherished. I had a couple nights holding scissors about to cut off my very long hair, something I love. I didn't want to do it, but it felt like I HAD to do it, because if I didn't then something very awful would happen.

I tried being called Andrew and wearing mens clothes and I bought a binder and packed my underwear, my thoughts to my body because extremely distorted, referring to my fat as 'blubber' and my breasts as 'udders'. And with all these fearful thoughts, there was absolutely 0 joy in being 'male'. I didn't want it. But it wouldn't go away.

It was one of the worst OCD episodes of my life and it came out of absolutely nowhere.

It's a tricky thing to talk about because there's a fear of hurting transgender people with this. If any fuckwit thinks they can go to their trans family, friend, coworker or stranger and say "are you REALLY trans or is it just OCD", I hope you step on a blowtorch.

But it does nEED to be talked about ,the same way all OCD subsets need to be talked about. This includes R-OCD, P-OCD, True-OCD and Sexuality-OCD. The more we make them 'normal', the less power they'll hold.

I wrote this because I was listening to a song cover and the singers used illustrations of themselves on screen. The female singer was a very pretty illustration, blouse loose around her chest, lips full and painted, gentle pretty eyes and long, volumeous dyed pink hair.

I saw that picture and thought 'she's so pretty, I want to look like that'

And THAT, is a gender thought that is NOT terrifying because it's female based. It's a good thought.

And I'm very happy I got it.

[theedfather]

So, I was watching Heartstopper earlier tonight. Bit late to the party I know, it's absolutely brilliant - and I'm at Episode 8. Will likely give the Graphic Novels a better look now that I'm invested. But it mainly got me thinking about the gay representation I had growing up.

So I'm both bisexual and non-binary, but will often just over simplify and say queer. Gotta reclaim the slur that was tossed at me essentially daily from Grade 9 onwards and all that. I properly came out as bisexual at 25 years old, letting all my family know. Non-binary is on hold until I have a better way of describing it than "I'm a man in the same way that Eragon was an adaptation of a book".

I truly think that a reason it took me so long to come out was that queer representation was just not there in the mid-2000's and early 2010's when I was in a constant state of teenage depression, with a dash of a full on gay panic.

It was an era of queer-baiting, taking whatever scraps were given, and just filling in the gaps. My heartstopper was movies like Dead Poet's Society, shows like Ouran High School Host Club, and the like. Others likely filled the gap, but those are the ones I clinged onto.

Now, queer media is everywhere. Things are coming a long way in a fast time, and I hope that if Ed grows up and realizes he's queer, or a they, or a she - there's no need to come out. I hope nothing needs to be explained, because I'm really bad at explaining things. That he won't need to grapple with his identity because he doesn't hear the term non-binary until 2021.

You thrust Heartstopper in my face in 2011, and you bet your ass I'm going to understand things better then thinking "damn, I wish I had a friend like Neil Perry in my life." Representation matters, and more and more people will get to have the queer youths that were stolen from us. I hate that I didn't get mine, but seeing others get it? That brings a smile to my face.

[magnetothemagnificent]

I'd love to hear about your Marvel OC if you want to share!

So her name is Peggy Barnes-Rogers and she exists in my Marvel Universe I made up called Earth 904, which has elements of the MCU, comics, and animated series. Basically me just taking whatever I liked from each.

She came to be after Striker Labs kidnapped Jean Grey and tried to clone her, because in my universe the Phoenix Force can be passed on through offspring (or in this case, genetic material). Jean Grey escaped and didn't realize they had her genetic material. But they did.

For years they worked on creating clones of Jean Grey, and they were finally successful. They created a few viable embryos and incubated them in a lab until they were fully formed fetuses, almost ready to be born.

Then, the Avengers found the new lab site and invaded it. In the process, the lab began to burn, and only one incubation tube survived. It cracked, and fell open, and all the embryonic fluid leaked out, and the newborn baby took her first breaths.

Now, the Avengers had a newborn baby on their hands, with no idea what kind of powers or lineage she had. All they knew was that they found her in an evil science lab, so who knows what it could have been. They also know they can't just let this baby become another lab rat.

Meanwhile, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes were married and happy. Bucky's younger sister, Becky, just passed away, and Bucky talks about how he had always had a parental streak, and how he had raised his younger siblings at times. He mentions that before WW2, he'd always wanted to be a father.

So, it was like a match made in heaven.

Here's this baby, with potential superpowers or alien powers or who knows what, and two former Avengers who know how to handle superpowered beings, and also want to be parents.

Steve and Bucky adopt the baby and name her Peggy, after Peggy Carter.

Peggy grows and indeed, she does have superpowers. She's the new host of the Phoenix Force. She has all the powers Jean Grey has, but because she grew up in a supportive environment that prepared her for what life she may live, the Phoenix Force didn't overtake her, nor become destructive like it did with Jean Grey.

Peggy joins the X Men when she's older, and eventually forms her own team with Erika, Magneto's granddaughter; Kiara and Tana, T'Challa and Storm's daughters; Helena, Baron Zemo's daughter; Stella, Magneto's granddaughter; and Anne, Tony Stark's daughter. (Anne later leaves and becomes a villain known as the Iron Maiden).

Later, Peggy discovers that the Phoenix Force is only one of four Forces, which take on the forms of the four chemical elements of life. The three other hosts of the Forces are Celeste, Emma Frost's clone, who is the host of the Diamond Force [Carbon]; Sooraya Qadir (Dust), who is the host of the Earth Force [Nitrogen] ; and Tana of Wakanda, who is the host of the Water Force [Hydrogen] (the same Force in Disney's Atlantis: The Lost Empire, because in my universe Storm is descended of Queen Kida). The Phoenix Force is representative of Oxygen.

Peggy, Sooraya, Tara, and Celeste learn that the Four Elemental Forces were meant to be the guardians of life, and that the four are most powerful when they are together and fight as one. Thus, whenever there is a cataclysmic threat, the four join forces.

Peggy eventually gets a younger brother, Jürgen/Jamie, an alien hybrid of a Titan and an Asgardian who was rejected from both societies because he was a hybrid of the commonly enemy societies.

Peggy's girlfriend is Kiara of Wakanda, who is the new Black Panther after reclaiming her throne from Shuri, who expelled Kiara and Tina from Wakanda when they were children after starting a coup that assassinated T'Challa and Storm.

Peggy, Tana, Kiara, Jürgen, Anne, Helena, Stella, and more have been OCs of mine for a very, very long time. Obviously their stories are looks have evolved as I have grown, but the basic essence of them remains the same.

[onlymexsarah]

Prince Friedrich | Jealousy

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: you are Daphne sister, younger than her just for one year. Both of you had debuted in society the same season. Since Prince Friedrich arrival the two of you had grown found to each other, finding him in the garden where you use to walk quite ofter. During the ball, after the Duke's and Daphne's break from their act, you see him believing at Daphne's flirt so you decide to have fun with a little revenge.

Warnings: my english, fluff.

Pairing: Prince Friedrich x Bridgerton!reader

A/N: it's not how I've imagined it in my head, but i hope you like it anyway :/ p.s. please tell me if you see any grammar mistake✨

*gif's mine*

PREQUEL - SEQUEL

You had agreed with your sister that you would enter in the room a dance after her, so both of you would have all the eyes for yourself. You were hiding behind the door at the start of the stars watching the room full of people. Cressida was speaking with Prince Friedrich, and it made you smile seeing that he was only being polite with her as his code obligated him. 

However you were shocked when you saw Daphne’s flirt towards him. She made her folding fan fall in front of the Prince, and he, following her plan as a puppy, knelt to take it as the gentleman he was. Your chest hurt when you saw them two dancing together and the Queen’s smile made you realized that didn’t matter how much in common you and the Prince shared, Daphne was the diamond of the season, he could not let such an occasion escape.

When it was your turn to enter, you looked toward Benedict and Colin seriously. “I want everyone enchanted by me, so don’t let me fall brothers.”

Both smiled sharing a silent conversation with their eyes. “Everyone or just a man with German accent?” joked Colin at your left crossing his arm with yours and the same did Benedict at your right.

“And with ‘his curly hair that seem to have trapped all the sun rays and made them a golden sea’. Was it accurate sister?” Benedict smiled slyly while Colin put his free hand in front of his mouth holding a laugh.

Your cheeks turned of a deep shade of pink, but luckily it could have been mistaken with the pink colour that your maid put on your cheeks. “I don’t know what you are talking about. Now we must enter before the next dance starts.”

The Bridgerton boys smiled amused while the door of the stairs opened and you three made your entrance. Your sweet smile never left your face during all the walking down the stairs. You could sense all the eyes on you, even the Queen was looking in your direction after that the Prince had stopped talking to Daphne to look at you. 

“Well done sister, there is no person in the room who is not staring at you.” Benedict whispered in your ear making your smiled grew bigger. 

“It seems that even in Prussia there is not such a beauty as yourself.” Colin whispered in the other ear. You let yourself looking around the room hiding that you were searching someone specific, and when you found him you saw that Colin was right. Prince Friedrich was looking at you with his mouth a little open ignoring Daphne who was right beside him trying to talk with him, but when she looked in the same direction of him, she stopped. 

She looked sorry at you, knowing your affection for the Prince, and you gave her a smile as nothing was happening hoping that Friedrich took it as a message that no one could hurt you.

Lord de Bethencourt, one of your best suitors, was the first to approach you and reclaim your first dance of that night. You danced twice together, he was a good-looking gentleman with who was easily make conversation due his kindness and charming. His French accent was the first thing that made you enchanted by him; he lived in Normandy with his family, but he came in London to find wife and you were the lucky one who had his eyes on. You were about to ask your brother to make a deal with him and let you marry, but since the Prince’s arrive everything changed. 

You started talking with him due your genuine curiosity about Prussia and their cultures. Just like Colin you wanted to see the word, indeed you had been with him in few travels already; most of them in the north of England or Nord Ireland, but you had read that Prussia was a beautiful place as well. It was strange saying that you found in the Prince a friend first, with who talks about literature and travels. But with time your walks at the park become something else starting to talk about the future and with some allusions from him to take you around the world. 

“You would love the sunrises in Normandy. They made the sea look like a flowered garden in the hot season.” Lord de Bethencourt said while he made you do a pirouette on yourself.

“I could stay and loose myself looking at them all days without getting tired, my Lord.” you smiled sweetly at him while you both bowed on the end of the music.

“And I will lose myself looking at your beauty, Lady Bridgerton.” he kissed your hand making you giggle shyly. You saw the Duke of Hastings, alias the man your sister was truly in love with, alone at the buffet with an annoyed look on his face. 

Thanking your gentleman you walked toward Simon with an idea in mind. “If you keep that look on your face you will have wrinkles before the next season, my dear friend.”

He looked down at you trying to hide a smirk. “Good evening to you too, Lady Bridgerton.” 

“Good evening, Duke Basset. I must tell you that I know about your little act with my sister, but if I didn’t know that it was your idea to stop it, I would say that you seem the most heartbroken between you two.” your smirk was huge behind the glass of wine looking at him with innocent eyes.

“Shouldn’t you dance with the Prince and try to become the Princess of Prussia?” he asked annoyed rolling his eyes but composing himself immediately after.

“We both are aware that the Prince of Prussia seems to have a weak at the ‘falling folding fan’ of a young lady, especially if the lady is the diamond of the season.” the Duke could hear that you were hurt in your voice even if your face was still with the same smile of before. He looked quickly around, smirking to himself when he saw that the Prince’s eyes were on you again.

Simon raised his hand in front of you waiting to you to take it. When you looked at him with an eyebrow raised, he just smiled kindly. “Nothing is better than a dance to raise your humour. After spending time with your family I’ve learned this very well.”

“Let see if you are a good dancer as you claim to be.” you took his hand happy. The time seemed to slow as you walked toward the centre of the ball room; everyone was now looking at you two and you could already see what Lady Whistledown will write about it. You both bowed and slowly started to dance without looking away from each other.

“Why did you let my sister going between the arms of another man?” you asked curiously while you kept your hands a few inches away from each other without touching as that dance wanted to be at the beginning. 

“You have surely a long tongue to be a woman, Miss Y/n.” he remarked ironically avoiding the question. He knew you were clever, and just as Lady Danbury you had understood everything even before him.

“We both know that you are my friend not for my education, but for my fantastic, good company. I am sure that if Daphne is looking at us, she is officially becoming the most heartbroken one between you two.” you said playfully.

“She must be so since the Prince has stopped to speak or dance with anyone to stay still and look at you.” you almost forgot to grab his hand when it was time to dance touching as usual due the black out of you mind for few seconds. “It curious seeing how a Prince manage his jealousy. Let see how far he can go without doing nothing.”

His smile made you feel invincible. You could made Prince Friedrich jealous and you would. With Simon at your side it was quite easy pretending that that dance meant something more than a distraction with a friend. “The Queen will never allow him to marry me, Lord Basset, and if you don’t take away my sister then I have no possibility.”

Most of the people in the room were still looking at the two of you. You were the second girl with who the Duke danced that season and knowing that the first was your sister it made the gossip bigger. Everyone was asking at themself if there was something between the two of you, and that made you smile more because if they were asking it then it was sure that the Prince was asking to himself the same. 

“Even thought, you seem quite happy, my Lady.” noticed Simon raising his eyebrows suspicious.

“I’m a Bridgerton, my Lord. Nothing can make my smile fall.” you changed partner for few moments giving you time to breath and searching with your eyes Prince Friedrich. He was with the Queen, both looking at you. 

Couples changed again and you found yourself with Simon like the beginning. “Why every time I talk with a Bridgerton, I found myself trapped in some complicate plan to attire the attention of other people? I shall expect that next season Miss Eloise ask me something similar.”

You laughed amused, thing that didn’t go unnoticed by the Prince who was asking himself what the Duke was whispering in your ear to make you laugh and smile. “I admit it was my plan since I saw you tonight, but you were the one asking me to dance, my Lord. I’ve never said nothing to you about it nor I made some type of suggestion.”

“You know how to manipulate a man with just some words. It a powerful gift, Lady Bridgerton, use it carefully.” he made you do a pirouette on yourself and then draw you back to him. “And I am sure that if burning people with the eyes was a gift too, I would be ashes right now.” 

“A gentleman shouldn’t say such things! I am sure you are mistaken.” you know you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t hold your smile from growing bigger. 

The Duke just smiled amused and bowed to kiss your hand when the dance ended. Making sure that the eyes were in you, he raised his arm. “Would you join me and walk toward the buffet?” 

“It would be a pleasure, Your Grace.” taking his arm you looked Benedict whose eyes were already on you laughing. He had seen the change of look that the Duke and the Prince changed during the dance letting him understand Simon’s plan.

You and he made sure to seem really close, laughing and smiling at each other that even Daphne herself asked in her own mind if there was something. At some point of the night Lord de Bethencourt approached you and took you for another dance.

In your mind you tried to accept the fact that he was going to be your husband. Prince Friedrich would marry your sister, and after all Lord de Bethencourt was pleasant and good looking; you shouldn’t be so sad, you will learn how to love him with time. 

When the only change of couples of the dance arrived, you prayed that some of your brothers would be there to dance with you, the idea of dancing with a stranger right now didn’t tempt you enough.

Lord de Bethencourt let go your hands giving you one last smile before other hands took you. “Lady Bridgerton.” When you looked up, your breath stopped for few seconds. The hand he had on your back made you shiver, his closeness gave inside you a strange feeling, you wanted more. You knew, deep inside your mind, that you could be closer in some animal way, but you didn’t know where this knowledge came from. The only thing that was clear to you was that every time you were close to Friedrich your body answered strangely, and you had almost forgotten how it was.

“Your Grace.” you gave him a polite smile focusing on the right movement of your feet.

“I wished to be your first dance like the other times, but unfortunately Lord de Bethencourt have been faster.” your eyes were fixed together, neither of you couldn’t look away, didn’t matter what was happening around you.

“No need to worry at all, Prince Friedrich. I am sure that my sister, Daphne, had loved your though, indeed I had the lucky to see your dance. You had enchanted everyone, your Highness.” your sweet voice never changed even when the bitter comment about him and your sister came out.

He was taken back; he didn’t know you had seen the first dance of your sister, the dance that the Queen had obligated him to do. If it was for him, he would dance with you all night and stay in your company all day.

“Still, I wished to dance with you since you arrived. I must say you shall be tired my Lady; you have danced all night especially with Lord de Bethencourt. Is he a good partner? Not many ladies dance with him thought.” his little jealousy made you amused. Take it, Daphne. 

“He is a perfect dancer, Your Grace. We used our dances to talk, mostly. He told me about Normandy, where he lives, and the many place he thinks I will love. Did you ever see the Château Gaillard?” you asked innocently speaking as you would speak with a friend or your brothers.

“Yes, I did, I find myself saying that I expected more...I am sure that Schloss Sanssouci will take your heart as it took mine. It was my grandfather’s home during the hot season, Friedrich II. In the garden we have all the flowers you can dream about.” he said back trying to stay polite even if in his mind he had already challenge Lord de Bethencourt in duel twice.

“If you marry my sister, I’ll ask her to bring me to see the beauty of that place then.” saying that words hurt you more than you expected. Why your sister had to have everything? 

“My hopes are to take you there with me personally.” you looked him surprised with the mouth a bit open. You weren’t sure how you managed to keep dancing, but it was like your body was doing all by itself.

“I don’t think it will be appropriate, Your Grace.” the dance wanted you to separate for a few moments, and then he drew you back to him again.

“It will, if you will be my wife.” he said it without thinking letting you with a shocked expression on your face. “I am sorry, Miss Y/n. This wasn’t appropriate, I don’t know why I said it, but I can’t deny that it is what my heart wish.”

“We know that Queen Charlotte wants you to marry the diamond of the season...” your eyes fell on the ground while you two kept dancing. “The two of you can come and visit Normandy if it’s Your Grace’s wish.” 

The memory of Lord de Bethencourt made his jealousy coming back. “I found Paris more enjoyable, Miss Y/n. I shall take you there in the future.” he smirked at you making you giggled.

“I am sure you will, Your Grace.”

“Friedrich.” you looked him confused. “Please, call me Friedrich.”

The music ended, all the couple bowed to each other, but the Prince took you close to him without taking away his eyes from yours. “Everyone is staring at us, Friedrich.” you said noticing with the corner of your eyes that you were the only two remained on the dance floor.

“Forgive me, but I don’t want to let you go.” he had seen Lord de Bethencourt waiting for you and he just couldn’t let it happens.

“Then don’t.” you whispered back looking exclusively his eyes. In your mind the room got empty, there were only you two and you wished you could stay in his arms forever.

“Please, walk with me to your mother. There is something I can’t wait any longer to say.” he told you slowly letting you go and raising his arm waiting you to take it.

You offered a smile at the crow that had formed a circle around you. Your mother, Lady Violet, had tears in her eyes due the perfect match you and the Prince formed together. Even the Queen had noticed it, it was impossible looking somebody else if the two of you were dancing together or just talking to each other.

“Miss Bridgerton, I hope the ball is to your liking.” said the Prince once you stopped in front of her, Lady Danbury, and Benedict. “Lady Danbury, Lord Bridgerton. There is no need to bow, Miss Bridgerton. I am the one who need your permission today.”

You looked your brother confused, but with his eyes he pointed at the Prince’s arm that was still intertwined with yours making you blush. 

“My permission for what, Your Grace?” she asked with excitement in her voice. She already knew.

“You have to know that I wrote to my parents in these days, telling them about your daughter and the desire I have to marry her.” your breaths became heavier looking him first then your mother who didn’t seem as shocked as you in that moment. Was it really happening? “I’m waiting their answer, but if I know them as I believe I do then they will welcome my happiness as theirs.” 

“Your parents must be wonderful people as yourself, Your Grace.” she smiled sweetly at him giving a happy look at you who now were searching confirm of your thoughts in Lady Danbury’s face; she had smirked since she had seen you two approaching together.

“You flatter me, Lady Bridgerton. You will have the opportunity to meet them, they will be there for the end of the season.” if the Prince hadn’t put his hand on the one of yours that was on his arm, you would have ran away needing fresh air. “I need your permission, if you want of course, to let me court Lady Y/n as a true gentleman does and then, after I’ll have Lord Anthony Bridgerton’s permission, I will propose her to become my Princess.” your eyes got wet just as your mother’s. Your smile was huge; you felt yourself flying over the clouds while you couldn’t look away from him.

“If it is my daughter’s desire, then you have my permission.” Lady Violet said looking at you for your approval.

“It is my desire, Mama.” your eyes leave his profile just for few seconds to let you look at your mother.

“Of course, Lady Bridgerton, I assure you that I will not force Lady Y/n in any marriage. If she will find herself uncomfortable with me, then I will not insist nor I will feel grudge toward your family. I just wish to let her know that...” he turned his head to look at you with devoted eyes. “She is the owner of my heart, and I wish to have a chance to try and seduce hers.” You wanted to say that your heart was already his, but he spoke again, almost whispering to you. “Even if that means taking all the France and giving it to you.” 

[wienerbarnes]

A Certain Romance (4/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,111

Warnings: mentions to past abusive relationship, nothing too explicit, though

A/N: some emotional bonding✨ enjoy babes

MAIN MASTERLIST | A CERTAIN ROMANCE MASTERLIST

Bucky presses the little button on the side of his phone knowing the dead battery won’t allow it to turn on. He makes his way up the stairs to your apartment - the elevator is always broken - and hopes you’re home to offer him a charger.

He was getting a few groceries in your area when his phone died, the only place where his list was kept, and had no other choice but to leave and go back later. A curse with technology; a paper list would never run out of battery, he thinks.

He knocks on your door three times and he can hear the low sizzling of something, signaling your presence inside. It takes you a minute to come to the door, though. Longer than the amount of time for you to change your clothes or turn something off, no, it seemed to him like you were waiting to see if he’d leave.

Do you have someone over? Another guy? Are you expecting someone else you don’t want to see? Is it him you don’t want to see? He thinks he’d rather you tell him to his face if that’s the case.

It’s been about a month and a half since you’ve started “dating.” The two of you have started hanging out more frequently, relying less on when Sam asks about what the two of you are doing and going more based on when you genuinely want to see each other. In a friendly manner, of course.

After he knocks a second time is when he hears a quiet shuffling on the other side approach closer and closer to the door. A lock turns and you finally open up, Bucky meeting your slightly puffy and red-tinted eyes.

“Hey.” You sighed before turning around and walking back to the kitchen.

“Hi.” He starts.

You were clearly crying. While Bucky would call the two of you good friends at this point - as well as fake lovers - he’s not sure if he’s in a position to pry about what’s wrong with you. Should he ignore it? Not bring too much attention to your obvious emotions? Bring all the attention to it and try to fix whatever the problem is?

“I, uhh, my phone died and I was in the area, so I wanted to ask if I could borrow a charger?” He starts. Maybe introducing a topic that has nothing to do with whatever is causing you to feel this way will help.

“Coffee table.” Is your curt response.

He takes the minute it takes him to plug his phone into the wall and set it on the coffee table to think of how he can go about this.

“You okay? Actually, don’t answer that - bad question. Clearly you’re not okay…” He tries, quickly shutting himself up when you sigh and slump a bit in front of the stove.

“What are you making?” He slowly walks over to where you are, a pan in front of you on one of the burners.

“Apple and brie mini sandwiches.” You say. More words, same sad tone. Still progress.

“Want me to take over and you can chill out on the couch?” He offers quietly.

“No. I - I want to keep myself busy.”

Progress.

“Okay. Anything I can do to help?”

You let out a shaky breath. His eyes focus on your face as tears gather around the rims of your eyes and you bite down on your bottom lip. A tear drops from your left eye and your hand quickly reaches to brush it away, as though Bucky didn’t already see it.

“Um, can you set up a couple of plates on the table?” You ask, voice strained.

He nods and moves towards your cupboard, setting the table up wordlessly.

The two of you remain silent as he fiddles with the napkins on the table and you finish up browning the bread of the sandwiches. He finally hears the click of the stove turning off and you bring the pan to the table, setting it on top of a piece of cork.

You serve him two sandwiches and yourself one and finally sit down next to him, letting out another sigh.

“I thought I saw my ex today at the market. And it took the entire time I was running back to my apartment in fear to remember that he’s in jail. Four states away.”

He looks over at you and realizes that the look in your eyes he thought was sadness isn't sadness at all. It’s exhaustion. A look he wore himself very often in his days of hiding, days of constantly looking over his shoulder until his worst nightmare came true and he was caught.

Paranoia is something he knows too well and it hurts him to see you suffering from it too. He remembers the brief mention of your ex from your first date together; how he beat the shit out of you. And he imagines he did a lot more than that if it means he’s in prison.

A humorless laugh falls from your lips, “And now I need groceries but I’m too tired and embarrassed to go back. The cashier probably thought I was crazy.” You pick at the crust on the bread with your fingers and Bucky gives you a small, sympathetic smile.

“Eat before it gets cold.” You tell him, picking up your own sandwich and taking a bite, Bucky doing the same after another moment of looking at you.

Gooey brie and crisp sliced apples go great with buttery, toasted french bread, Bucky learns.

“Do you want to help me clean the apartment?” You ask him as you follow him to the sink where he washes off the plates and the pan you used.

“... Your apartment is spotless.” He tells you.

“I know. I cleaned it two days ago. But I like to clean when I have bad days, and you’re already here.”

He grabs the sponge and wipes down the stove, glancing over at you.

“I’d be happy to help you clean. Where do you want me to start?”

He planned on getting his own groceries today, but found himself on his knees slipping his arm as far as it can go under your dresser. I’m going to buy her one of those adjustable Swiffers for her birthday this year, he thinks. After collecting all the dust onto the rag, he tosses it into the pile with the few other dirty rags and glances over his shoulder to look at you.

Down the hallway, you wipe down all the frames on the wall one by one. He hears sniffles every once in a while, but keeps cleaning.

“Alright, I got all the low places and all the high places for you.” He walks over to you down the hallway. “What do you have next for me?”

“Nothing, we can stop for a bit.”

He’s gotten better at reading people. Through getting closer with Sam, through therapy, through becoming a more participating citizen in society. And through getting to know you. He can read you, and he can tell you’re holding something back.

“Anything else you wanna do? Anything I can do?”

“What’s your zodiac again? You’re very caring, you know that?”

“I’m a Pisces and you're deflecting.” He steps closer to you now, eyes less puffy from when he first saw you this afternoon, but tiredness radiating through them. “Talk to me, sweetheart.” He encourages quieter.

“Can we… cuddle? For a little bit?” You ask.

This is the first time Bucky’s ever seen you look so fragile. Not on that first date where you thought he was going to stand you up or when you told him about your ex. Not when you both discussed your deepest secrets on your couch. Not even earlier when you explained why you’ve been crying today. A timorous woman stands before him, now.

“Absolutely, doll. Where, on the couch? Wherever you want.” He tells you softly, seeing a bit of tension leave your shoulders as you gently bring him to the couch to sit, as though you were expecting him to say no.

He’d always used to make fun of Steve when talking about Peggy. Always teasing him as a brother would when the lovey-dovey talk would come out. But this is the very first time he’s ever understood a single thing he was talking about.

You’ll find someone, and they’ll fit you like a puzzle piece. You’ll mold to each other perfectly, and it’ll scare the hell outta ‘ya.

He’s propped up against the arm rest, one leg straightened out on the couch and the other planted on the floor. His arms are around you as you’re sandwiched between his side and the back of your couch. Your hands rest gently along his stomach, head tucked under his chin. A knee hooks around the leg that’s straightened on the couch, the other stretched on the remaining area of the cushions.

Like a puzzle piece.

You’re warm and you’re making him feel warm, both on the inside and the outside. He feels the way he did when he first pecked Barbara Albram on the mouth in grade school. Or when he first sat on a girl’s bed in her room when he was a teenager.

He feels like he has a crush.

“Do you know what love languages are?” You ask after a few minutes of silence. You’re both warm against each other, no blanket needed in the small space. He can feel your body much more relaxed under his hands and the permanent strain in your throat has disappeared.

“No. Sounds nice.”

“It’s the way you express and experience love, either with a romantic partner, a friend, family, that sort of thing. There’s five.”

“What are they?”

“Words of affirmation, quality time, physical touch, acts of service, and gifts.”

He hums, an arm absentmindedly trailing up and down your back.

“I’m not sure what mine is.” He says, thinking back to every relationship he’s ever had, both romantic and not.

“You can be a mix of them. I think you like to express love through acts of service. You did just help me clean half the apartment. And when you told me about helping Sam and Sarah with the boat.” You mention.

“What’s yours?”

“Physical touch. But he kind of fucked that up for me, though.” You scoff.

“I used to love holding hands, hugging, kissing. Not just with him, with everyone. I felt like I had so much love to give and now I have nowhere to put it. I wish he didn’t make me like that.” You confess.

“Only you are in control of that. He’s gone. And what he did was terrible. But it’s up to you to reclaim that. If you have a lot of love you want to give, give it. There’s no one that deserves that love in return more than you. You are worthy of all the love in the world.”

He stays with you on the couch until he feels your breathing slow a bit and your body relaxes against his, small snores and heavy breaths leaving your mouth as you finally rest.

He hears a buzz on the table and is reminded of the reason he came over in the first place. He carefully reaches over to the table and is glad that he’s able to reach without moving you around too much. He presses the button on the side to see a now fully-illuminated screen and a charged battery, as well as a text from Sam.

Double date friday night. Bring ur girl. I’m picking the place

He doesn’t let himself be upset at the fact that Sam’s bound to choose a place that requires him to wear a clown suit because he’s too caught up on it being a double date.

He hasn’t been on a double date since when he shipped out for the war. And times were very different then; he was very different. He’d be nervous even if he wasn’t fake dating you and was going with a real girlfriend.

Maybe I can cancel, tell him I’m busy. You know that won’t work though! You’ll reschedule over and over and over again until Sam just shows up out of the blue with his girlfriend, even worse if it’s an occasion where you tell Sam you are with her when you’re not. Bit the bullet, Barnes, it won’t kill you.

He glances down at your sleeping face, calm expression soothing his own nerves now that he’s replied with a text confirming both of your presences.

It’s only a double date, what’s the worst that can happen?

[goatpaste]

evil mane six you say... im listening👀

e! yeah this is like from a nearly 6+ year old AU of mine from when i originally into mlp and stuff 

lil cringe but i really wantd to update it because i liked some design/story concept from it

some of the basic world building for this AU was that the Crystal Empire never disappeared and went on to basically be the cantorlot of this universe, and ponies relied on a crystal based technology system and magic became less of a focus as crystal magic was something everyone could use.

Sombra is a good king of the empire, with a large happy family. Dear friends to the wizards of cantorlot, Celestia and Luna. Sombra also made of the elements of harmony in my AU but this is about these bad bitches

twilight in my AU was a unicorn who looked up to the wizards of Cantorlot and wished to train under their wings. she learned many powerful spells from them and the books of great unicorns.

however Twilight became obsessed after learning of the elements of harmony, an ancient relic that had gone into slumber years ago claiming it wouldnt return until it was needed. however twilight thought herself to be smarter and able to force it out of hiding so that Equestria could have a boost in magic believing it would further society to have another source of power.

Twilight had no idea what she was working with and began to work behind the backs of celestia and luna. Tuning into Lord Tireks ability to absorb magic she used it for herself to drawn out the magic of the elements. However she was rejected and the spell turned on her, turning her to a monstery figure would mind could only think of taking the elements powers.

Shining armor was there with her when it happened trying to stop her, but instead became apart of the magical rejection. Only his body was effected and he was forced to stand by and watch his sisters mind become corrupted. Now she is locked in tarturus with Shinning armor as the doors gaurds, hoping they can find a way to heal her. 

Rarity is much like her normal self, the only difference is she much more work focused and lives in the crystal empire. She was so goal oriented that she had no friends and simply went day to day working herself to the bone trying to make each dress better than the last. 

it drove her made when she began to believe her style was becoming repetitive and she simple would do anything to get out of her runt. so she left the empire and went out into the snow around the kingdom seeking out an old mine full of unique and beautiful stones. 

Little would she know she would come across a locked away evil that would take over her mind, feeding on her greed and want to be the best. she would act much as normal Sombra, taking over the crystal empire and demanding the most beautiful stones and jewelry and gowns of the people. it would be this event that would set the new elements into motion, king sombra and friends stopping rarity. (id like to thing her villian name could be oddity...)

when i originally designed these villian designs pinkie was defiantly meant to take over nightmare moons place. 

Pinkie pie’s family lives in the crystal empire, as crystal farmers. Pinkie pie herself would work at the castle as a party planner from planning the birthdays of sombras children, to grand galas to diplomatic brunches. She is close friends with Princess Ivory.

However when rarity took over Pinkie pie was held captive as a jester for rarity. some believe the close contact with a creature radiating darkness infected pinkie pie. because there was hardly any build up, just one day Pinkie pie seemed to snap. right in the middle of a party she went berserk and began to destroy everything. The royal court chose to let her off assuming she was sick or had a sugar crash, the list of what it could be was endless. Pinkie pie word return again to throw Princess Ivory’s party and nearly kill her. Pinkie pie would have no memory of what she did only to come concious and learn she was banished from the court and to ever see Ivory again. it broke Pinkie’s heart and it was a moment of weakness. her mind was clouded and she turned into a monster of a mare named ‘The Timeless Party’ and planned to party the whole planet to its core until it could party no more.

with the new found elements of harmony powers pinkie pie was saved, she hasnt returned to the castle but still gets note from Ivory despite refusing to see her out of fear of hurting her. 

Rainbow dash was a clouddale pony, she never left the city and happily worked at the weather factory and thinking of the day she would be a wonderbolt. Until the day she lost her wings, she could no longer fly like other pegasus and began to adjust to her new life. she moved to the ground and became a park ranger. she lived a happy simple life coming to enjoy the new experiences that came her way that she never thought she would thought she would enjoy.

Until a stroke of misfortune hit her, literally hit her. A bolt of lightning hit her and she swore she died, Until she  awoke and found she wasn't. instead she was covered in dark rolling clouds that she could manipulate and shape to her will. 

Rainbow dash found she could fly again and faster than ever before and with no fear of lightning or hail. the weather knelled to her. little did she know with the use of her power she brought on violent storms, floods and lightning made forest fires. Rainbow dash chose to stop her new powers until she could get them under control, but found this itch like a voice in the dark parts of her mind. telling her to let go and enjoy her powers, they were a gift after all.

it wasnt long until rainbow dash changed and seemed to no longer care about her damages. with this came the ancient unicorn, Starswirl the bearded. An old unicorn of old equestria would had frozen his aging to ensure his students could full take over for him one day. however star swirl was full of himself and could never see the bigger picture. He would freeze rainbow dash in ice and leave her in the cold mountains. 

with the story reaching tarturus shining could over hear twilight talking about starswirl and asking shining armor if he really thought rainbow dash was the villian and if starswirl choices were truly for the best. 

Fluttershy lives in ponyville outskirts but ponyville in this world is mostly underwater and a tourist town for the large spa/hotspring resort run by and supported by a colony of seaponies and sirens. 

Fluttershy barely patreons there except to quietly get a spa once a month. and leaves without a world.

she still works with animals but mostly runs a pet cemetery for animals that drowned in the local waters or potentially eaten by rouge sea creatures. Fluttershy sadly would die in her own cemetery having fallen and hit her head on a tombstone. 

however after not being found she would be reclaimed and returned to the living by the earth. believing she was given a second chance and was not one with the earth Fluttershy didn’t notice that it was darkness that brought her back.  Fluttershy didn’t question her need to send the world back to a state when animals thrived and ponies were scares.

(a villian name i had for her was Queen Pangea)

With the mostly underwater Ponyville in this AU applejack comes from a family of both seaponies and sirens. herself mostly taking after the siren side of the family. She comes from a farming family of seaweed farmers that contributes to the spa and Ponyville’s many economy source. 

Applejack’s colony would suffer a infection of darkness that effected a good chunk of the siren population including a bunch of applejacks family and herself. It started with it switching on and off were they would go into schooling frenzies and attack wildlife or other seaponies and sirens. Ponies began to speak bad of sirens believing them to be showing their true nature, which only pushed applejack over the edge. she would begin hunting the waters and destroying other seaponies livelihoods and the things the spa required, even running off guest.

Starswirl has plans to take care of the siren colony that has begun to terrorize ponyville, and shining armor questions if he really has the best choices in mind and wonders if the sirens are at all like his sister and need help. 

[jeonqukie]

PLAYING CUPID / 01.

SYNOPSIS / Consistently overshadowed by your older sister, you expect your days in high school to be filled with plastic smiles and apathetic peers with hidden intentions. Everything changes when four of the most popular guys in school join you and your best friend for lunch on the first day of school.

FEATURING / Kim Namjoon; appearances by Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Jeon Jungkook.

GENRES & TAGS / high school au, freshman reader, senior namjoon, student council president namjoon, best friend jungkook, lots of fluff, and some angst.

WARNINGS / Graphic and mature language, slight age difference/gap (to clarify, oc is 14-15 yrs old and namjoon is 17 - first part is rated pg); list will be updated as fic is updated accordingly.

WORD COUNT / ~10.3k

NOTES / I am a day late in posting this and I want to let you guys know that this is... not edited at all and I will be looking through this every now and then to correct any errors. But I hope you enjoy the first part of this series! I wasn’t expecting this to be relatively long, but it was all to set up the characters dynamics and the history behind the reader and Namjoon’s relationship. Any feedback is appreciated. To repeat, I’m so sorry this was super late. Please expect part 2 to be up in ~2 weeks. (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

All rights reserved © jeonqukie (formerly known as aiscka). All (or portions) of my work may not be reproduced, redistributed, reclaimed, translated, modified, or used in any way whatsoever without my permission.

“You’re Sena’s little sister, right?”

You’d be a damn millionaire if you made a dollar for every person on campus tried to break the ice with you. It was a severe understatement to say that your older sister was known around town. She was vice president of the student council, president of the debate club, and the best player on the varsity volleyball team. All of the teachers and faculty adored her, every girl wanted to be her, and every guy wanted to be with her.

For the longest time, you assumed your sister was a celebrity on campus.

You were so wrong.

It was because you never met him. You’ve heard his name so many times whenever your sister had sleepovers with her friends or when she was on the phone with a friend, whispering so softly into the receiver, afraid that someone would find out about that she had a crush on him. You were perplexed because you thought your sister was a very forward person; she had so much confidence talking to so many guys who desperately wanted her attention yet somehow her palms would sweat over him.

“Hey, you know who Kim Namjoon is?” You would sit at the cafeteria for the first time with your best friend, Jungkook, who had devoured half of his ham and cheese croissant sandwich. He looks at you and he would raise one brow.

“Oh no, don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who’s obsessed with hyung.” But Jungkook sees the genuine confusion form on your face. You catch a glimpse of your older sister who sat on the other side of the cafeteria, thumbing a reply on her phone while her friend nudges at her when she sees the notorious posse that every girl swoons over.

It was a scene right out of a movie.

At that time, you had the faintest idea who they were, but you were quick to find out why they were so well known around campus. Jung Hoseok was the senior of the group; he was a dancer and was featured in numerous music videos by well-known artists and he had an extensive list of choreographers willing to work with him. Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin were inseparable; they were juniors who ran the school newspaper and the school yearbook – Taehyung being in charge of the photography while Jimin being in charge of the organizing the yearbook staff. Meanwhile, there was Kim Namjoon; student council president, valedictorian of his class, member of the honor society and numerous organizations on campus.

“Wait, you know who Namjoon is?” You were curious whether Jungkook knew of him, not exactly knowing the guy.

“Yeah. I mean, he’s been my next-door neighbor for god knows how long. His folks and mine go out for golfing twice a month.” You just nod to his answer when you are shoving a chocolate moon pie into your mouth.

But your mouth instantly goes dry when the four guys appear right across from you and Jungkook are seated.

“Gukie!” Hoseok exclaimed at the sight of Jungkook still devouring his croissant. “Look at you! Finally, you’re with the hyungs in high school.” The tease made Jungkook’s ears go pink and you feel your own face get hot; not because of second hand embarrassment, but because you can see everyone’s eyes on you – the two freshmen who had no right to be sharing a table with, what you can only assume, the four most popular guys on campus.

There were many times where people would only want to get to know you because of your sister; girls wanted to get close to you because you were had a cool older sister and boys wanted to be with you because they were so eager to come over to your place and obsess over Sena.

Jungkook, on the other hand, had no interest in her. As a matter of fact, you met Jungkook when you were in middle school and took a swimming class and later found out that you two were in the same class and bonded over your competitive nature in swim class.

“Who’s this? You got a girlfriend on your first day already?” You and Jungkook exchange a look of disgust with each other and create a sensible amount of space for each other to establish that you both see each other as friends.

“Oh my god, wait – you’re Sena’s little sister, right?” Hoseok corrected Jimin who had made the assumption you and Jungkook were an item. Jungkook can see the way you scrunch your nose from his periphery, and he decides to answer for you instead.

“This is YN. She’s… literally been my best friend since middle school.” Jungkook introduces you to the four people right across from you. “YN, this is Hoseok – well, I call him Hobi-hyung. This is Jimin-hyung and Tae-hyung. I’m pretty sure you know Namjoon-hyung because –”

“ – school council president.” You interrupt because you didn’t want Jungkook to reveal that you had been inquiring about him earlier. “I remember because you made that welcome speech this morning at the assembly.”

Namjoon is rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment and you resume eating your packed lunch, despite losing all appetite because you are surrounded by so many people did not know. They weren’t terrible people, but you weren’t mentally prepared for such strong personalities and dynamics to be introduced all at once. You felt like an intruder – a fly on the wall – because everyone carried on with their normal conversations; Jungkook and Hoseok were talking about plans for the weekend and then Jimin and Taehyung were already drafting out ideas for the yearbook. Meanwhile, you sat in silence as you ate your tuna salad sandwich, reading a new book you were gifted over the summer by your parents.

“Let me know when you’re done.” A voice catches your attention, and you stop all chewing. “The book, I mean.” Namjoon clarifies and he sees that you are already halfway done with it. “I read it a year ago and I’d like to hear what you think of it.” He offers you a heartwarming smile and you nod once, returning the same grin.

“I started it a week ago. I really like it so far.” The conversation is light and drowned out by the loud voices beside you.

You never really pinned him as a reader.

“So, how’s your first day so far?” He inquires and you honestly thought that the conversation was… over. Normally, that’s how all the conversations go when people find out your Sena’s little sister. They feign their interest in you and instantaneously ask about her.

“It’s… nothing special.” You admit, smoothing your fingers on the pages of the book. “Most of the classes I have before lunch, Guk’s with me. Now –”

“Now, her large, wrinkled brain is going to abandon me and get into those advanced program and honors classes.” You are rolling your eyes at your best friend who whines that you decided not to take the same classes as him.

“We literally have homeroom, social studies, and PE together and then we see each other for breaks and lunch. I think you’ll live.” The group laughs which earns quite a bit of stares from outsiders, but they seem to be completely unfazed by it. Everyone turns back to their own conversations and, usually, your social presence isn’t necessarily sought out by people.

It wasn’t until you hear another inquiry fall out of Namjoon’s mouth.

“What do you have right after lunch?”

“Biology.”

“Honors biology, by the way. Can’t you spare just one regular class for me? Or does your GPA really matter that much to you?” Jungkook complains and you are left ignoring his comments.

If there was one thing that your older sister taught you (something you actually agree with) is that colleges love a good GPA and joining as many clubs as possible. You even remembered how she’d phrase it for you; college admissions officers will cream their pants when you score that 4.0 GPA and do something out of the box from the rest of your peers.

“Or just get smarter, Guk.” Hoseok poked fun at Jungkook, earning a shrug from Jungkook. Namjoon, on the other hand, is smiling from ear to ear at the dynamic between the elder and the youngest of the group.

“Let me see your schedule.” Namjoon urges as he spots your clear binder which has your printed schedule on the cover. You push over your binder to Namjoon who is scanning your binder; he reads through your name, your birth date, the list of teachers you had for the semester and the classes assigned to you.

You feel indifferent about the sudden attention on you, especially from Namjoon; a mere stranger who everyone obsessed over was so piqued by you. You observe the way the corner of his slips curve into an impressive smirk as he glances over at Hoseok.

“Guess who we have for calculus at the end of the day?” He slides over your binder where the rest of the group examine the rest of your schedule, only for Hoseok to find a coinciding class with you.

“How the fuck are you in a senior’s class? Are you some math whiz or something?” Taehyung’s eyes widen at the sight of an advanced calculus class on your schedule. It was one of the things you were proud of you; you were good at math – it happened to be Sena’s worst subject and your parents often joke what she lacked; you had gained immensely.

“Yeah, YN’s cracked, hyung. I don’t understand. I remember in middle school they had to make arrangements for her to get into a pre-caclulus class or some shit like that.” Jungkook finishes his fruit cup and gathers all of the trash on site to toss over to the closest garbage bin.

Namjoon is sliding your binder right back at you, brows raised at you with the same grin he had on. He stares at you for what seemed like a long time – to you, it seemed like a long time and he is glancing back down at where your fingers brush against each other and he pulls away, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable.

“I – um, saw that you were taking orchestra too.”

You nod and chew on your cheek, self-conscious all of a sudden about your appearance because you are very much aware that Namjoon is examining every aspect of your face.

“Yeah. I mean, I already know how to play the piano, so I might as well learn how to play another instrument, right?”

“No – yeah, you’re right.” He stammers and he folds his hands together only to be interrupted by Jimin tossing over a bag of pretzels at Namjoon.

“Bell’s about to ring. Pretzels was all they had left. We need to head to physics soon.” Taehyung and Jimin are swinging their bags over their shoulders. Hoseok is too busy on his phone, showing Jungkook a video of his new choreography.

Suddenly, you are receiving a plethora of notifications in the depths of your jean pocket. Your fingers unlock your phone only to reveal a series of text messages from your sister.

Sena [12:29]: Did you just spend your entire lunch with Kim Namjoon?

Sena [12:32]: Earth to YN?

Sena [12:39]: GUK IS FRIENDS WITH ALL 4 OF THEM.

Sena [12:41]: You have officially made a fucking impression to this school. I’m so proud of you. You’re sitting with us at lunch tomorrow.

“Guess I’ll see you later, YN.” The bell doesn’t descend you back to reality. Instead, it was his voice that brings you to pack up your things into your bag. “You might want to sit at the back for Mr. Lu’s biology class; he’s a spitter.” Namjoon swings his backpack over his shoulder. “He reuses the same lesson plan every year. If you need any help with them, you know who to look for.”

As you’re swinging your own bag, Namjoon leaves you with a wink as he is exiting the doors of the cafeteria into the school hallways.

Now, you understand why the entire world was obsessed with Kim Namjoon.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Mrs. Kang, your calculus, is a middle-aged woman who didn’t look like she had aged past thirty. You found it incredibly hard to believe the woman was nearly in her mid-forties who had three kids of her own. She looked like a stern woman but had a good heart from what you remembered; she only wanted what was best for the class even though it meant tormenting them with a shit ton of homework. “I don’t need to go over the syllabus with you bunch. As you can see, this is a much smaller class than a regular class because not a lot of people pass this class.”

Silence fills the room from when you had first arrived. You were one of the last few people to find your seat because your class was all the way on the other side of campus. It seemed like everyone in your class were juniors or seniors. There were so many of them who knew each other from previous classes; they were all huddled in their own designated spots in the class, so you sat at the front of the class because all the seats at the back had been taken and it may help that you’re at the front because it’ll force you to pay attention.

“There’s a lot of material to cover and there’s only so much I can do. Since we’ve implemented the new block schedule, we’ll only be seeing each other for an hour and a half every Wednesdays and Fridays. First thirty minutes will be on new material, next thirty minutes will be spent on practice problems, and then the last thirty minutes will be working with your partner on getting your homework started. I’ve figured getting a head start on the homework for the last thirty minutes will be helpful just in case you or your partner are lost, you have me to ask for assistance.”

Someone’s hand raises up in the air out of your periphery.

Mrs. Kang points to them. “Yes, Namjoon?”

“How do we determine who are partners will be?”

“Please tell me we get to pick our partners.” Mrs. Kang is already turning her back to the class as she searches for a box that had been hidden behind her computer monitor only for her shake the contents of the box.

“The last time I gave the students the opportunity to choose who their partner was, I’ve written a disciplinary notice for academic dishonesty twice a week.” Mrs. Kang prefaced, and the room goes silent. As she continues ruffling through folded papers inside the wooden box, you are already aware of how the partner system is going to work.

Everything was going to be randomly assigned.

“We have 26 of you total which means there will be 13 pairs.” Mrs. Kang announces, and she walks around the class starting from the left where the person is picking a folded paper out of the box. Each person who had unfolded their paper sat patiently until Mrs. Kang had completed distributing the paired assignments around the room. She is fetching a pen and paper as she sits on her desk.

“Alright, our first pair is –” Mrs. Kang looks up to see two people raise their hands; it had been Hoseok and a girl with the prettiest bangs named Mimi. Mrs. Kang continued jotting down the pairs until you scanned the number on your own paper; a large 12 inscribed on your already tattered paper.

You hear Mrs. Kang’s voice as she calls out for the twelfth pair and you raise your hand. You don’t see anyone in your periphery raise their hands, so you turn your body around to search for your partner.

Your body turns cold and still, but you can feel your cheeks get warm at the sight of Namjoon seated down at the back with Hoseok with his hands raised, revealing that he had pulled the same number as you. The thumping in your heart is loud and it beats hard as each moment passes.

Both your hands lower and you are trying to turn your attention back to the front of the class where your teacher stood, but you can feel his eyes on you. You remembered scolding yourself, unaware of why you were so nervous and so shocked to be his partner – he saw you nothing more than another classmate; someone to help him with his assignments.

“Perfect! Since we have our pairs, everyone will be sitting next to their partner from now on; I don’t care where it’ll be. I just need you to sit with them, so we’re not scrambling at the last thirty minutes of class to find them.” Mrs. Kang says sternly, clearly not wanting to waste time in this class. “Shall we begin?”

“How do you already have so much shit to do?” Jungkook laid comfortably on your bed, shoving down salt and vinegar potato chips that your parents had bought from the store last weekend. “Do you like never take a break from reading or what?”

“It’s just a really interesting book.” You say as you flip through the next page and bite into an apple.

You two laid on your bed, basking in the afternoon sun. Normally, you two didn’t have this much down time. Last summer, you two volunteered to be camp counselors to lessen the boredom you two would endure. It was either that or spending every goddamn weekend on the golf course with Jungkook’s parents and yours.

“I was thinking of trying out for the track & field team.” Jungkook informs you and you resume reading. “Namjoon-hyung tells me that the team runs right after school and it sounds fun. Events are early though, and we all know I’m not an early riser.”

The mention of Namjoon urged you to reminisce back to your last period that day. Mrs. Kang mentioned that she wasn’t going to let the class immediately sit right next to their homework partner – thank god. You just wouldn’t know what to talk about with him; you don’t really know what to talk about with people because they always somehow led the conversation back to your older sister.

But, at the end of class, he did manage to keep up with you as you hastily packed all your items into the bag before you darted outside of the classroom. You planned on walking home with Jungkook and you two would meet at the front of the school. Namjoon, somehow, caught up to you in time.

He had grabbed your arm and greeted with you with his million-dollar smile. “Hey,” He breathes, and you stop to offer him a meeker and shier smile.

“Hi, what’s up?”

“You’re meeting with Guk?”

You give him a single nod before he hands you two pieces of paper. You’re curious as to what they are, and you see the words parent’s consent form along with the health forms to give to a doctor – for a physical.

“He’ll know what they’re for.” He reassured you and you hold onto the forms. “Thanks for that. I have to go; I have a meeting in five minutes with the student council.”

“I’ll be sure to give it to him. Was there anything else you wanted to tell him?”

He shakes his head, and he starts reversing his steps, clutching onto the straps of his bags. “I – um, I’m really looking forward for calculus – you know, the whole partner thing. I must be really lucky to be partnered with a cracked, math whiz like you.”

Now, you’re blushing because you weren’t really sure if you were supposed to be flattered or offended.

And he read you so well because he is suddenly panicking but he hid it. He stops his reverses, and he takes one step closer to you.

“I’ll see you and Guk at lunch tomorrow, if that’s alright?” He hums; his voice sounded so soft and clear to you – no one can hear a single thing he had said to you, but you heard him bright as day. Suddenly, you feel a grin creep up to your mouth and you nod once. You had regained some of your confidence back and Namjoon can see it. “Cool, well, I’ll see you ‘round, YN.”

“Earth to YN.” Jungkook snaps at you and you pay attention to your friend who is lying next to you. “Did you hear a single thing I said?”

“Sorry ‘bout that. I dozed for a couple minutes.” You admit and he scrunches his brows, dismissing your moment of silence.

“I was asking how it was like to be in a class of seniors.”

“There’s no difference, honestly.” You begin your thought. “It sucks just because I don’t really know anyone, and everyone knows everyone.”

“Yeah, but you have Namjoon-hyung and Hobi-hyung.” Jungkook reassures you. “They’re basically your friends now because we’ll be hanging around them a lot.”

You weren’t sure if you were looking forward to or nervous to be spending a lot more time with the older guys. They made a good first impression on you though; they’ve probably only mentioned your sister’s name once. Granted, it was only thirty minutes spent together, but it was so much better than most of the conversations you’ve had with everybody else.

“That’s true. I have Namjoon as my homework partner, so I’ll… definitely need to get along with him.” You chuckle under your breath as you read through each line without comprehending a single thing. Your mind had been so clouded with the idea of Namjoon and you weren’t sure why.

Jungkook decided not to stay for dinner that evening even though mom made two pans of lasagna to feed a village. However, he did help you and your mother prepare it. Your mom was pretty insistent on it, so you promise that you’d be giving him some leftovers for lunch the next day. Your dad arrived home next; it was a typical evening – he beelined to your mom, planted a kiss on her cheek and patted your back before he hastily moved to the office to continue working. Sena arrived home from school at a later hour than usual before she was already setting the plates on the dining table.

“Alright, Guk, final offer.” Your mother says as she is pulling out two piping pans of lasagna out of the oven.

“No, thanks, Mrs. LN.” He respectfully declines before he is swinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Mom’s expecting me home right about now for dinner. I’ll definitely ask YN to pack me up some leftovers though.”

“Alright.” She waves him a goodbye before you are showing him to the door. “Walk home safely.” She bids him a goodbye softly as she pulls the foils off the pan.

“Pack me an extra serving, please.” Jungkook pleads and you roll your eyes before he already made his way out of the door.

“Honey, dinner’s ready!”

“You did not tell me Jungkook was friends with Namjoon.” Sena settles herself on the dining table and you sit right across from her, waiting for your mom to begin serving everyone a slice of lasagna.

“Quite frankly, I didn’t know Jungkook even knew Namjoon either. I’d say I’m just as surprised as you are, but I really don’t know what the fascination is with Namjoon.” You lied through your teeth as your mom serves herself first (she called dibs on the corner piece) and you decide on getting the smallest piece since you weren’t so hungry that evening.

“Are you talking about Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s son? Is this the same Namjoon we’re talking about right now?” Your mom’s curiosity is evident in her tone, taking small bites out of a side salad she had prepared.

“Yes, and Sena is hopelessly in love with him.” You shove the lettuce into your mouth as you wait for your lasagna serving to cool down momentarily.

“How can you not be in love with him?” She breathes out hastily. Your dad has his brows raised in disbelief; his daughter talking endlessly about her crush.

“He is a nice boy; responsible, kind, gentle, polite, seems to get things done, really cute too.” Your mom lists his never-ending advantages, and you stray away from their eyes because you hate the admit that you find him incredibly cute.

“Can we please talk about something other than this boy?” Your father is already exhausted from listening to you talk about Namjoon and you don’t blame him, really. “How was the first day for you, dear?” He refers to you and you are still chewing on your dinner.

“I have three classes with Guk. I like all of my classes so far; I can already tell calculus is going to be… a lot of work. We have a test every week and we mandatory study sessions after school for the exam to qualify for college credits. Thankfully, I have a partner to work with just in case I don’t understand anything. There’s also –”

“Who’s your partner? Maybe I know them.”

Your silence is defeating, and you look at your dad who is waiting for his answer and you dart your eyes back at Sena who is piecing the puzzle in her head, so she drops her mouth open, gasping at your lack of a response.

“No fucking way!”

“Language, please, Sena.” Your mom scolds.

“I mean, you’ve been in the same classes as him before! I’m sure you’ve been in a group project with him or something. You guys are in the same clubs. I don’t understand why you haven’t asked him out.” You weren’t so sure what motivated you to blurt it all out because your sister was definitely a good catch, but the obsession with him was getting way out of hand.

“That’s ridiculous, YN. I would never ask out a guy. I don’t even know he likes me that way.” Sena is taking small bites out of her dinner and you sigh to yourself, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “If there was only a way for me to find out. It’s not like I have a sister who’s partners with him in a class – oh, she’s also best friends with his next-door neighbor! How convenient.”

She eyes at you where you decide to focus on your meal, but her eyes are pleading and desperate.

“I… am completely eliminating myself from this predicament, Sena. If you want to ask him out for yourself, you should do it. Besides, who wouldn’t like you? You’re amazing.” Your voice is sincere and genuine, and you hope she pushes all of her fears and insecurities to the side to do something about her feelings.

“It would just be so much easier if I knew if he thought I was cute or something.”

“Everyone thinks you’re cute.”

“That’s not the point, YN. Listen, how ‘bout this? You don’t even have to drop my name in there; just ask what his ideal girl is like or something… or let Guk do the work! I’m sure he already knows the answer. Just help a girl out, please, YN.” You sigh defeated because your sister was really good at convincing.

It wasn’t really hard to figure out what type of girl Namjoon was interested in or… if he was interested in girls. All of this was easier said than done and you were going to rely on Jungkook a lot on this.

“I’m not going to prioritize this.” You surrender and she is giddy in her seat.

“YN, you are the best sister anyone could ask for.”

Several weeks have passed since you had last had your conversation with your older sister. You made an emphasis that you weren’t going to prioritize delving into Namjoon’s personal life. You were purely on a calculus homework and best friend’s next door neighbor relationship with him. But you finally get an idea of what Namjoon likes in a girl when he had to leave early for calculus to get pep rally ready for the first football game that Friday.

Unknown [14:34]: It’s Namjoon. Got your number from Guk.

For some reason, you feel your heart leap out of your chest at the text message. You’re still seated in calculus class working on the first few problems of your homework without him. You look up to see that Mrs. Kang is too busy assisting other students confused with the problem. Honestly, you were confused too and were unsure with your methods, but your mind had been too focused on your cellphone the entire time.

Namjoon [14:35]: Should’ve gave you the heads up about this. Sorry about leaving you alone to work. ):

You [14:36]: It’s no big deal. Seems like everyone’s confused, tbh.

Namjoon [14:36]: Fuck, mb. It’s the first game of the night, so I’m kind of required to be here. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.

Namjoon [14:37]: I have some down time after setting up. Maybe we can work on it then?

You [14:37]: Just tell me the time and place, I’ll be there. (:

Namjoon says that he had somebody covering his duties for the student council before the game began. You see him rushing inside a computer lab that remained open for students to use. You had reserved a table at a secluded corner because you wanted to be away from prying eyes. He spots you trying to reread your notes and erase the umpteenth method you had tried for a word problem you were stuck on.

He admires the way your brows knit together; lips pursed as you began redoing your method on a separate piece of paper. He keeps standing, not taking his place on the chair right next to you – too afraid that you would interrupt your flow. You feel a presence right next to you and he nearly gives you a fright and you realize just how tall he is.

“You scared me.” You inform and he chuckles softly at how endearing it was. He takes the seat right next to you where he is already pulling out notebook and pencils from his bag.

“I left my book at my locker. Do you mind if I share your book with you?” You look at your open textbook and nod at once pushing the textbook closer for both of you to see. “Thanks.” He scoots much closer than you had intended and when he strips his hoodie off of him, you can smell his cologne and how good it smelled on him.

You ignore your thoughts and scurry back to the problem you’re on.

“What problem did you end on?” He inquires and you point to the exact word problem you had been staring at for the past thirty minutes in class.

“It’s been bugging me. I didn’t want to ask Mrs. Kang because I wanted to figure it out myself.” You were so stubborn, he thought to himself. You had only completed a total of eight problems when there was so much more to do for the weekend. For some reason, you decided to stay stuck on that problem for god knows how long and Namjoon found it adorable – one of the few attributes he liked about you.

He reads the word problem and begins trying to solve the problem on his own. After several tries, he had figure out what you had done wrong and he so desperately wanted to point it out to you. Just when he was about to open his mouth, you turn to him and shake your head, covering your ears with your hands.

“No. I refuse to let you tell me what you did wrong. I can figure this out myself.” You whisper harshly. Namjoon can’t help but respond with silenced laughter because this is exactly how your homework sessions have been going; just the both of you refusing to let the other correct each other until the other figured it out themselves.

“Can I give you one clue?”

“Nope.” You popped your ‘p’ to accentuate just how persistent you were. You stuck out your lower lip as you examined the word problem again and he looked at the glossiness of your mouth and the softness of your cheeks; how he desperately wanted to lay his own petals right on yours as his fingers crawl to your face.

“So, I have a question.” He starts.

“And I can try to give you an answer depending on what it is.”

“Are… you and Guk by any chance – y’know?” His question is vague, but you definitely know what he is asking you because lots of people were never really used to the idea of a boy and a girl ever being best friends; for some reason, people assume they always end up dating and never talking to each other again.

“God, no. I love him, but I don’t love him like… I’d date him.” Your cheeks were fully flamed, and you weren’t so sure why you were so embarrassed to discuss this with Namjoon. All the times you had to clarify people on your relationship with Jungkook, you were almost disgusted and quick to reassure people that you two were nothing more than friends.

“Well, is there anyone you were willing to date?” Namjoon is pushing the boundaries here and he knows it very well. But he feels like he has gotten to know you well enough in the past few weeks to ask such a question.

“Not that… I know of really.” You try to remain composed when you respond to his question, but you feel his eyes burn into your soul, so you’re doing everything you can to avoid his stare. But Namjoon continues to stare right into you. He really can’t take his eyes off of you. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever really experienced what it’s like to be attracted to –” Just when you had mustered the confidence to look at him, he is quite literally staring so deeply into your eyes that it is taking your breath away.

He is making you eat your words right now; you can’t take your eyes off of him.

“You don’t know what it’s like to…?”

“I don’t what it’s like to be attracted to someone.” You sigh softly; your breath fanning him. “On the contrary, I don’t think anyone’s ever really been attracted to me.” A chuckle comes erupting from your mouth, shaking your head. “Fortunately, that’s not really my goal in high school.”

“You don’t know that.” He quips.

“I don’t know what?”

“If someone’s been attracted to you before.” You shake your head in disbelief, chewing on the inside of your cheek knowing fully well that he was doing this because he wanted to seem like a dick for not disagreeing with your self-deprecation.

“Well, what about you?” You pose the question to him. “From what I understand, most girls and guys I pass by swoon every time you pass by.” He is chuckling to himself this time and he is very much aware of his desirability among his classmates. “You have plenty of choices; I’m sure you have the opportunity to date someone you must really like at this very moment.”

“That’s what I’m hoping on. I’m just not quite sure how she feels about me.” You feel like you were unraveling his darkest secrets and you were happy he considered you close enough to reveal who it is or give an inkling to who it is.

“Do I know her by any chance?” You’re hoping that you can narrow down who he is interested in. Because you barely knew anybody, you knew this would be a piece of cake.

“Yes.” He replies simply and he is staring at you. “You know her very well, YN.” He sighs, hoping you would finally understand what he is alluding to.

“Is she in my grade?” You were really hoping that the answer would be no or else you’d be breaking some terrible news to Sena that evening after the football game.

Namjoon nods slowly and he can see how you are not picking up his hints. He sees the slight disappointment in your face for whatever reason. Suddenly, he is perplexed because, in his eyes, he has made it pretty clear who he was interested in from the get-go. Many people should make the assumption, too, considering there was only one person he had his eyes on – only one person he was giving his attention to.

“Is it… that girl in Guk’s class who –”

As you are trying to list out the girls in your class who has interacted with Namjoon, he is in complete disbelief that you have not figured it out at all. How much more clueless could you get? He is sighing now because is frustrated. He admires your persistence when it came to solving difficult word problems in calculus but it’s frustrating when you are unaware of his feelings for you.

Just when is about to confess his feelings for you, you are greeted with another presence calling for both your names.

“So, this is where you two have been.” Jungkook ambles hastily towards your table and you grin from ear to ear when he is taking out his algebra textbook. “YN, one last chance, please. I didn’t pass my last quiz which brought me one letter grade down and my dad’s going to make me quit track & field if I don’t –”

“I told you I’d help you over the weekend, dumbass. I’m busy getting shit done with Namjoon.” You breathe softly before he is hugging you on your side and you grunt at how much stronger he has gotten. “But you’re buying me coffee for a week.”

“Sick.” Jungkook simply replies before he begins unpacking some of his homework. “You excited for the football game, Namjoon-hyung?” Jungkook queries and Namjoon is baffled because the moment is gone. One interruption from his next-door neighbor and the moment’s lost.

“Fuck yeah.” Namjoon replies and he sees that you’ve suddenly lost interest in the subject. You were subconsciously listening on their conversation while you are back to resolving the complicated word problem right in front of you. “Will you two be going to the game?”

“I’ll go, but YN won’t go because she hates crowds and, honestly, she doesn’t know how the game.” You exhale in response to Jungkook’s statements. Namjoon observes that you decide to move onto another problem, wanting to tackle the word problem at a different time. “Everyone you know will practically be there. Why not give it a shot?”

“We usually have half of the bleachers reserved for the student council since we’re in charge of tickets and concessions, so it won’t be that big of a crowd.” Namjoon attempts to entice you with modifications to appease your concerns. “Plus, we’d all get to hang out with each other; no homework, no calculus talk – just… us.”

Jungkook is stunned to see you agree.

The night was a lot more enjoyable than you thought it would be. Namjoon waived off the entrance fee for the game the moment he mentioned that you and Jungkook were volunteers. Taehyung was already on the field taking photographs of the football players and cheerleaders while Jimin took photographs of the students on the bleachers. You even passed by your own sister who was busy with her own group at the entrance entertaining friends, families, and alumni into the bleachers. Meanwhile, Namjoon was overseeing every single aspect of the event; he was mainly at the concessions, not wanting to create so much traffic around it.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You offer your assistance before he notices that you have your hair all tied up. “I’ve washed my hands if that helps.” Namjoon can’t hide his smile and he offer you a pair of food safe gloves.

“I’m usually one to decline help, but we really need it. Let’s see – Yuqi really needs to go use the bathroom, so you can be in charge of the drinks and chips right now.” You take your station at the drinks and chips stations. It was going faster than you had expected; people ordered too fast or too slow – there was no in between. There were people who were very certain with their order which you appreciated. Then, there were the people who were very fickle with their order and you can’t help but stand awkwardly to wait for them to decide.

“I can’t believe you roped me into helping.” Jungkook grumbles under his breath. “Hey, I didn’t rope you into anything.” You take the five-dollar bill from the student and offer them back their change.

“Yeah, but you made me seem like a real asshole sitting there not helping.” You can’t help but laugh at Jungkook’s pout because you knew just how much he wanted to just spend his time on the bleachers, watching the game with his hyungs. But he was stuck here helping out the student council while most of them were on their bathroom breaks.

“Once someone’s back from their bathroom break, you can go back to your game.” You soothe him and the chaos outside the booth is starting to die down. Less and less people were coming because they’ve all satisfied their craving and the game was building up – it was pretty close, so you understand why Jungkook was in there sulking with you. When you turn to look at Namjoon, hoping to convince him to let Jungkook off the hook, you don’t see him there.

You look out the window to hear your sister’s pretentious giggle. She laughed so differently around him – acted so differently around him. He stood right next to her with the rest of the council members, giving them a big pep talk. She looked at him like he was an angel who fell from heaven. Their conversation ends and the rest of the council members disband except Sena and Namjoon. They are having a personal conversation and you can’t read mouths, but you can’t tear your eyes away from their beaming faces.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” You clear your throat, speaking so softly so only Jungkook can hear you.

“I’m all ears.”

“Does – does Namjoon have a type?” You say out of curiosity. Jungkook raises a brow at you, curious as to what motivated you to ask the question.

“Uh, I don’t know. I’ve never really heard hyung talk about any girls… or his type, to be honest.” He hums and he is staring at you stare at your sister and Namjoon. “Why’d you ask?”

“It’s… for Sena.” It was the truth, but your own curiosity was definitely a motivating factor. “She’s been obsessed with Namjoon since… as long as I can remember.” You breathe out, hoping no one else can eavesdrop on your conversation. “She’s been talking a lot about him more since she found out I knew him, y’know?”

“Huh,” Jungkook leans on the table and folds his arms. “Why doesn’t she just tell him?”

“Apparently, she needs some sort of confirmation that he thinks of her that way too, so she doesn’t make a fool of herself.”

“Why don’t you just ask him then?” Your silence is clearly something Jungkook wasn’t expecting because you never actually considered it once. “He’s a pretty easy-going guy; just ask him and he’ll be honest.”

“We’re not on that level of friendship yet, I guess.”

“Well, I consider you guys close enough to ask that kind of question.”

“Then, he’d just assume I’m being friends with him because my sister was using me.”

“Well, are you?”

“No.”

Your own answer stuns you almost. Just a couple weeks ago, you knew nothing of Namjoon and, suddenly, you are on a level of friendship where you think you can confide him in anything. Perhaps, now, you really understood why everyone obsessed over him; why everyone wanted to be friends with him, why everyone wanted to date him, why everyone just wanted to be noticed by him.

“Then, feel free to ask him yourself.”

You hadn’t really worked up the courage to talk to Namjoon about his dating life. You repeated to yourself that it wasn’t really a priority to delve into what goes on behind the scenes with Namjoon. You were in a consistent state of going to school, doing your homework, reading books, and retraining your body to try out for the swim team next semester. 

But the time came when you got sick for an entire week and missed so much material, especially calculus material.

But you were eternally saved by Namjoon himself.

Namjoon had requested to drop off the homework sheets and printed copies of his notes over to you. Everything was so detailed, and you were impressed with how organized everything seemed to be. You didn’t know what motivated you to reach for your phone on your bed and dial in his number. Maybe you felt like it deserved a personal thanks rather than a typed one.

“YN?” His voice on the other line sounded so surprised and there was so much noise on the other end. “Give me a second.” He excuses before you hear him move to another location, somewhere much quieter.

“How many times do I have to thank you for being an absolute saint?” Your voice sounded so stuffed. The flu was getting to you really bad, but you were recovering well. But he chuckles into the receiver and you are flipping through each page he had printed before you fall onto your bed, sighing blissfully. “I’m serious, Joon. I’ll say it a million times if I have to.”

“You’ve pulled my weight when I was off doing council work so much. I’m sure if I got sick, you’d do the exact same thing. It’s what partners do.” Namjoon is smiling from ear to ear; he was glowing, and no one was there to really witness it. “I – um, did you see my note attached at the back?”

You are now flipping through the pages frantically until you see a handwritten sticky note that read: “We have a quiz on the Monday you come back. I’m free this weekend if you wanted to study with me.” And there was even a little smiley face attached to it and you are experiencing a whirlwind of emotions.

“You have got to be fucking with me.” You can feel the panic starting to bubble in the pits of your belly, but you were trying not to let it show. “You’ve already done so much for me. I can’t rob you of your weekend. It’s just – It’s just too much.”

“I’m happy to do it, Ace. I promise.” The guy deserved everything in the world because he was too generous for the world and you weren’t so sure what you did to deserve such kindness.

“Ace?”

He chuckles embarrassingly into the receiver, chewing on his cheeks. “I – uh, it’s a nickname. I hope you don’t mind.” Suddenly, butterflies erupt from your stomach and there is a glow on your cheeks that you are very much aware of and you are curling into your bed with a shit eating grin on your face.

“I – I like it.” You sigh and Namjoon leans on the wall as he observes the rest of his friends and council members enjoy slices of pizza, taking a well-deserved break from preparing for the pep rally event coming up next week.

“So, is that a yes to a study session this Saturday?”

“Yes.” Your voice is small and hesitant because it feels like you’re doing something wrong when you were just having a quiz session with your calculus partner.

“Great. My place or yours?”

Namjoon insisted on coming over to your place because you were still recovering. Coincidentally, your parents had the weekend trip away with your dad’s work colleague for a wine tasting event. You debated whether you wanted to tell Sena that Namjoon was going to be arriving in an hour, but you soon realize that she was out with her friend’s house for a movie night session.

You had the place all to yourself and you were relieved and frantic all at once.

You busied yourself the entire day to make yourself look decent; brushed hair, brushed teeth, clean face, and fresh clothes. You throw used tissues into trash bins, changed your sheets, and kicked all of your dirty laundry into your hamper that had fallen on the carpeted floors. As you are jogging downstairs, you discover you have no food in the fridge, so you’d probably have to order a pizza or something to share with Namjoon.

Immediately, you question why you are so desperate to make the place and yourself so presentable when this was a mere tutoring session with your calculus partner?

The doorbell ringing prompts you to peek through the peep hole and you see him; he is wearing a regular white t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. He has his hoodie thrown over his shoulder as he begins texting a message on his phone, waiting for you to open the door for him.

When you unlock the front door and open the door for him, you smile timidly at him.

“Hi,” You greet him nervously.

“Hey, Ace.” He waves before he examines how you look. Despite your red nose and tired eyes, he missed seeing your face for a week; he really did. You stood awkwardly fiddling with your fingers and he can sense just how anxious you are, so he decides to tread lightly. “May I come in?”

His tone is so polite which effectively allows you to open the door wider for him to enter. You are nodding and you close the door shut behind him, ensuring that you have locked them. “I – um, I can’t really offer you anything to eat since my parents are out of town, but we can order pizza, if you want. It’s what my sister and I usually do.”

“I’m more than okay with pizza.” He permits and you nod and begin walking to the living room. “Will we be working here?”

“We can work anywhere.” You announce. The conversation is so light, and you hate how quick yet reluctant you are to your responses. “I – I can get you a glass of water, if you’d like. I’ll just get my things from upstairs and bring them down to the living room.” You inform him and he nods as he is making himself comfortable on the couch.

You are scurrying off upstairs to go get your materials and catching your breath because you think you were holding your breath the entire time. You’re stalling because you’re making a check list of every single thing you need for downstairs to avoid seeing him or talking with him. Just when you are about to exit, you see him at the bottom of the stairs. He is examining each family portrait on the wall.

Your face is hot because you can only imagine how terrible you looked like a child, so you jog downstairs with your study materials to gain his attention. “I never really realized how much Sena looks like your dad.” Namjoon comments and you stop in your tracks, only to examine the portrait he is looking at. “Exact same nose and smile.”

You purse your lips into a thin line because you are reminded once again that he is probably only interested in getting to know Sena – there was always that possibility. You were so familiar with this feeling of discussing your sister with other people because – yes, she is absolutely beautiful and intelligent and there was no denying it.

“But you are like your mother.” He comments as he takes a closer look at your mom who seems to be so much more youthful. “The way she’s smiling here looks so much like the way you smile.” He describes and you allow him to explain more by staying silent. “When you smile, your nose kind of crinkles and the corners of your eyes creases and your dimples are a lot more –”

Your throat seizes because you’re flattered and aware that he has perfectly examined your appearance and all the features in what he sees. He grows silent and he is chuckling nervously, scratching the back of his hand to distract himself.

“Sorry that was… super random.” Namjoon clears his throat, and you are shaking your head before you point towards the living room.

“I – I’m ready now.”

Now, you’re desperately hoping Sena doesn’t come home too early from her friend’s house.

Hours have passed since Namjoon have gotten you caught up with all of the materials and have assisted you through last week’s homework sheets. Namjoon was impressed with how you can keep up despite your recovering condition. One minute, you were sneezing and wiping your nose clean and, the next minute, you have your lips pursed and brows furrowed as you are writing equations down on a separate piece of paper.

“I got a question for you.” Namjoon begins and you are still too busy piecing everything together for a specific word problem you wanted to master.

“Shoot.”

“Are you always this focused?” You are typing things into a calculator before you are erasing things on your paper and you turn to look at him, showing him the calculator.

“Is this the right answer?” You ignore his question for a moment.

He nods and you grin at him before you proceed onto the next word problem.

“If I’m a week’s worth of lessons behind, yes, I’m focused all the time.” Namjoon is shaking his head and he is in awe at how you are so quick at writing all the information; he notices how neat your handwriting is too. Namjoon checks his watch and realizes just how late it has been and he clears his throat as he looks out the window to see the sun has gone completely down.

“Will your sister be coming home tonight?” Namjoon notices that you stop writing – you stop solving the word problem that you are tackling because you, suddenly, realize that he is asking about your sister.

“She’s probably still at a friend’s house or something.” He senses the atmosphere has changed and you shift your mind back to the practice problem right in front of you. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason – well, I honestly thought she should be taking care of her recovering sister.” You snicker at his statement.

“She’s a great sister, but she’s not that great.” You quip, biting your tongue at how ridiculous he sounded. “I think we can all agree that she’s smart, charismatic, and ambitious. I will admit she’s a really considerate sister too, but she thinks caring for her ill sister is a parents’ job – not hers.”

“Okay, okay, I get it she’s amazing but not… amazing.” He raises his hands to surrender and his words coming out of his mouth urged you to inquire about his relationship with her.

“If you think she’s amazing, why don’t you date her?” The words came spilling out of your mouth uncontrollably. Maybe it was the meds, you thought. You see the grin disappear from Namjoon’s face into utter confusion and he tilts his head for further clarification. “What I mean is that… you’ve known her and worked with her for so long and she’s a great girl – I’m obviously really biased considering she’s my sister, but you two would make a… great couple.”

You didn’t believe that you were talking about this to Namjoon. You didn’t think you would have the guts to discuss this with him, but the opportunity came up and you took it. But you are faced with such an unfamiliar emotion. True discomfort arises at the pit of your stomach as Namjoon’s brows furrow together and he is shaking his head with the same boyish grin he always flaunted to the world.

“Ace, she’s great, but I… honestly see her as a friend.” He isn’t so sure how many times he’s reiterated those words before. Because little did you know, so many people have asked the exact same thing. Peers and colleagues in their class were very much aware of Sena’s not so little crush on Namjoon for quite some time.

“Well, I mean, isn’t that how all relationships really start? Becoming friends and then possibly developing feelings for each other? Most people always see each other as friends until one of them is aware of the others’ feelings, right?” Your tone was so quizzical. You were treating this conversation like it required rationale and logical reasoning to tackle the issue at hand.

But this wasn’t a problem the mind can solve.

“That’s the usual circumstance, yes.” He admits and he sees that you resume back to the worksheet. “But I’ve known Sena’s had a thing for me and, quite frankly, I’ve been interested in someone else for a while, remember?”

“Someone far more interesting than Sena?” You are in disbelief. You are trying to eliminate other people in school who is on the same social standing as your older sister. “That’s… not possible.” You breathe.

“You’re wrong.” You stop writing because you are retracing your steps on the word problem you are solving. He finds it so endearing how you can’t seem to understand that he is utterly into you, but you are so lost in numbers.

“No, don’t tell me, Joon. I’ve told you this hundreds of times –” You lift your head to look at him to accentuate your reminder; you didn’t want to know what you wrong, you wanted to solve the problem yourself unless you demanded the assistance yourself.

Normally, Namjoon would comply with your request. It was so rare for him to point out your mistake, but he figured this was the perfect time to do so.

“You’re so stubborn.” He breathes before he dives in.

You don’t complete your sentence. Because when you turn your head to look at him with pleading eyes, you are met with his pillowy petals on yours. Your cheeks heat instantaneously, and you can feel your heart leap from your chest.

His kisses were soft and slow. You don’t realize that he has already cupped your cheeks. You’ve never kissed anyone ever before but, for some reason, it was like you knew how to move your mouth against his. He was gentle but there was a certain control he possessed. You pull away momentarily to breathe and, suddenly, you feel the heat of his tongue swipe on your lower lip. A shuddered whimper leaves your mouth before you are regrettably pulling away from addiction.

“N – no, that’s not possible.” You’re still in denial from the events that occurred. “Sena – she’d be so… betrayed if she –” Your brain is glitching and it didn’t help that you can taste the mint of his lips on yours.

“Listen, Ace, for one moment stop thinking about Sena and answer me honestly.” Namjoon positions his body to look straight onto you. “Do you feel the same way I do or not?”

“I don’t – I don’t know.” You shrug before avoiding his eyes. “I – I shouldn’t like you.” You sigh defeated and you are covering your face. You were ashamed not because you like him, but because you didn’t understand what you were really feeling, and you didn’t understand what you wanted to do. “Why – why do you like me?”

“You’re hardworking and incredibly intelligent.”

“I know plenty of other girls who are… exactly the same.”

“Your tastes in book are impeccable. You’re selfless to a degree that I can’t quite comprehend. You keep to yourself, but when you speak your mind, it leaves a lasting impression. Listen, YN, I can keep going, but you can’t… keep doubting my feelings for you.” Namjoon justifies and it was a tough pill to swallow.

You were too stunned to say anything. Too many emotions flooding your brain and it took too long for it to process, so you remained expressionless. Namjoon found it incredibly difficult for him to read your face.

“Ace, it’s really hard to tell how you’re feeling right now.” He points out and you understand just how awkward you sat there; head spinning with so many things to say but very little coming out of your mouth.

“I – I don’t know what you want me to say.” You admit. “I’m not sure what you’re expecting out of me with a confession like this. If I don’t feel the same way, what would’ve happened? If I do feel the same way, what – what was I supposed to do?”

“Well, for starters, do you actually feel the same way as I do?”

“I – I do.” You croak to respond to his inquiry. “I – I don’t think I’ve ever admitted that to myself either, but… I think I like you.”

A wave of relief washed over Namjoon, but there’s a bit of relief for you too. It’s out in the open now, and you know that there’s nothing really you can do about it. There’s a very content grin plastered right across his handsome face, but it slowly transforms into a frown as he realizes that, despite your feelings for each other, nothing will change between the both of you.

“Namjoon, we can’t be anything more than friends.” You realize the unfortunate circumstances the both of you were in. “It’s not fair to my sister. I don’t think it’s very fair to make me choose between you and my sister. I – I don’t think it’s very fair that… you’re in this position.”

Your heart swelled just moments ago, and you can feel it crumble into pieces as the words come spilling out of your lips.

“I understand.” He agrees softly and you perk up at his acquiescence. “I’m not going to force you to be in that position, Ace.” The reassurance softens your tense form, and his fingers cradle your chin, lifting up to be at eye level with you.

“But when you’re ready to reconsider... us, I’ll be waiting.”

↪ Please stay tuned for the next part!

[veliseraptor]

Top five nonfiction books you've read?

like, ever???? wow, this is. a big question. and I def had to go consult my goodreads to remember what nonfiction I’ve read, too.

anyway ended up with way too many so I’m giving you ten instead of five, here you go

1. 1491: Revelations of the Americas Before Columbus by Charles C. Mann. This list is a lot of books where they somehow...changed my perspective, or else where I learned something completely new, and this book was kind of both. It’s all about - well, what it says, American history pre-European contact (into very early European-contact era). Really good stuff, and the semi-companion 1493 by the same author I’m also going to highly recommend, though I liked this one better.

2. The Future Is History: How Totalitarianism Reclaimed Russia by Masha Gessen. This is a fascinating history of Russia beginning more or less with the tail end of the Cold War through Putin’s rise to power, and it’s so good and so interesting and also so wonderfully written. I want to read every history Masha Gessen writes.

3. Excluded: Making Feminist and Queer Movements More Inclusive by Julia Serano. When I read this one I kept posting little quotes from it here because I kept being like ‘oh dang that’s good’ about Julia Serano’s way of framing things. I don’t remember coming out of it feeling so much like I’d learned a lot that was new so much as feeling like it was a really well-framed and well-written perspective that took a different tack from, say, the online conversations I tend to see about feminist and queer activism. That said, it’s been a few years, so don’t jump down my throat (please!) if something has changed in the interim.

4. The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness by Michelle Alexander. Like, okay, I know everyone and their mother recommends this one but it is for a reason, it’s a comprehensive, in-depth, and transformative work that really digs into mass incarceration and modern racism and if you haven’t read it already, while it is sort of dense, I really recommend it.

5. The Road to Unfreedom: Russia, Europe, America by Timothy Snyder. Timothy Snyder is another historian that I’m 100% going to follow wherever he goes. Black Earth was also fantastic; I want to read On Tyranny. This one was about the rise of totalitarian movements across Europe and in the United States, and it was both intense, unnerving, and extremely compelling, both as a contemporary history and as a dissection of how a lot of tactics work, and why. This one - like Black Earth, which, bonus recommendation - stuck with me for weeks after I finished it.

6. Because Internet: Understanding the New Rules of Language by Gretchen McCullough. This feels like a bit of a divergence from a lot of this list! But linguistics is sort of a sidebar interest of mine and internet linguistics fascinates me and this squished the two together in a delightful book that I actually kind of want to own, so I’m making a note to come back to that later. This is also a book that hits that hallmark of me referencing it to other people long after I’ve read it.

7. Darwin Comes to Town: How the Urban Jungle Drives Evolution by Menno Schilthuizen. For months after I finished this book I kept bringing it up to people in conversation. It was fascinating as a dive into urban environments and the way that animals are adapting - or not - to living in them.

8. Delusions of Gender: How Our Minds, Society, and Neurosexism Create Difference by Cordelia Fine. I was debating between this one and Testosterone Rex but ultimately I liked this one better. I think about it a lot when topics of innate neurological gender difference come up and really wish I could remember it clearly because I’d love to cite it more often and more specifically.

9. Spillover: Animal Infections and the Next Human Pandemic by David Quammen. Been thinking a lot about this book lately for obvious reasons! It terrified me when I read it and it was also very, very good for someone who, like me, is very interested in epidemiology and the history of diseases. If you can handle it, highly recommend.

10. Angry White Men: American Masculinity at the End of an Era by Michael S. Kimmel. This is a book that in some ways hurts to read because it came out in a time where...it was prior to a lot of things in it that suddenly became very, very pertinent. But it’s a stand-out to me, both for the ways it really takes masculinity seriously and the ways in which Michael Kimmel is an exceptionally compassionate writer. He’s able to take the distress and struggles of his subjects with a certain spirit of generosity while never losing sight of the fact that the harm that is caused is real and horribly misdirected.

[lucemferto]

WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT TECHNOBLADE (or A Narrative Analysis of the Dream SMP Doomsday Event) - Script

Heyo! Per request I am posting the script to my video of the same name here on tumblr. I must warn you that just reading the script will probably not give you the full experience, so I would encourage you to watch the video (linked above).

There might also still be a lot of grammatical errors in the text, because I don’t proofread.

Okay, so! I don’t want this to turn into a reaction channel OR a Dream SMP channel for that matter! I am planning on doing a big dumb, way too long analysis video on the Dream SMP which will – at my current pace – come out in five years. I am already way too late on this one.

Spoiler Alert for the Doomsday Event that took place on the 6th of January in the Dream SMP. Surely the worst thing to take place on the 6th of January 2021 … I’m sorry, what’s this about the Capitol?

In case you don’t watch the SMP and need context: The Dream SMP is a Minecraft Multiplayer Server, that, throughout the last year, has transformed from a normal Let’s Play to an ongoing new-media series streamed by multiple high-profile streamers such as Dream, TommyInnit or Technoblade. It comes complete with script – by which I mean loose bullet points – and story events. It has attracted a large fanbase specifically invested in the story and less so in the actual gameplay content. Like I said before, I will probably do a big video on the Dream SMP at some point in the future.

The storyline is long and complicated and trying to explain it all would take up the majority of the video and there are other channels who have already done a much better job than I could ever hope to do, so give them a watch. I’ll try to summarize all that is pertinent to what I will talk about in this video.

Okay, let’s speedrun this summary. Cue the music!

Major Players here are TommyInnit, a founder of the independent nation of L’Manburg, Technoblade, an anarchist who was deep in conflict with L’Manburg, Tubbo, Tommy’s best friend and current president of L’Manburg, and Dream, the ruler of the Kingdom of the Dream SMP (even though he is not the king, but we’re not going to get into that right now). Tommy had in the past been exiled by Tubbo for endangering L’Manburg’s shaky peace with the Dream SMP. Tommy had then teamed up with Technoblade, who was hellbent on destroying L’Manberg after some prior altercations – more on that later.

Tommy and Tubbo came into conflict during a festival set-up to celebrate the friendship between L’Manburg and the Dream SMP. After punching out their feelings, Tommy came to the realization that his friendship with Tubbo was more important than his vendetta against Dream and those who exiled him. Techno took that change of heart badly and teamed up with Dream to destroy L’Manburg … and that’s exactly what happened.

Techno and Dream, with little to no opposition, obliterated L’Manburg with no hope for recovery leaving its inhabitants stranded hopeless and alone.

… And that’s what you missed on Dream SMP!

Okay. So, usually I just put whatever thought slime drips out of my mouth hole into your subscription box. But then I asked myself: “Am I not taking this a largely improvised nonsense story from a bunch of 16–24-year-olds a little too seriously?”. And then I remembered. I’m a pretentious bitch. I made an 18-minute video explaining why the popular commentary YouTuber memeulous is secretly the time travelling Anti-Christ, REASON HAS NO SWAY OVER ME!

So, like the English Major drop-out that I am, I will present you with two theses, which I will then combine into one … supratheses! That word doesn’t exist, I just coined it, it’s mine! I am very smart!

[I know words, I have the best words!]

 Thesis #1: The Fandom focuses too much on Character Analysis in Favour of Narrative Analysis

The Dream SMP is truly something special. It is uniquely singular in how it tells a story of this scope through its chosen medium. While there is an overarching script that lays out the plot points of the future, each of the 30+ streamers on the SMP are their own cameraman, director, writer and actor. You cannot watch “the Dream SMP” – if you attempted that, you would be 80 by the time you caught up to the Doomsday Event. You have to choose whom to watch. You have to choose your focal point character.

Because by the way the story is told and consumed – aka in such a compartmentalized fashion; you watch one streamer and get one character’s perspective – it has sort-of unintentionally conditioned fans to look at the SMP and its characters less as one coherent story with messages and themes and more as sports teams they can root for. You’re Team Techno or Team Tubbo or Team Tommy or Team JackManifoldTV (formerly known as Thunder1408) and every other side is in the wrong! It’s like Twilight for a decade old children’s game about virtual Lego!

Okay, I’m exaggerating, but the amount of discourse perpetuated by and revolving around so-called “apologists” – a terrible term that unfortunately has caught on – is really not something that I think is good for how we interact with the story of the Dream SMP.

The Dream SMP is discussed a lot on character-based level, which is, like I said before, hugely advantaged by the way the story is consumed by its audience. With traditional, visual media such as film for example, the audience can be made more aware of what messages the narrative might try to communicate on a narrative level without the need for an explicit narrator to tell you the moral.

As an example, in a movie you could have a smash-cut from the Butcher Army’s discussions about neutralizing the danger Technoblade poses to Techno being nice around villagers or taking care of animals. This would communicate on an extradiegetic level, that the Butcher Army is in the wrong with their assumptions. Alternatively, you could contrast Techno’s declarations that power corrupts and that Tubbo’s administration is cruel with Tubbo choosing not to punish Ranboo for his association with Techno – thus the narrative would communicate that Techno’s view of Tubbo and by extension the government is one-sided and not true to reality.

Stuff like that helps the viewer understanding a story holistically and manages to communicate stuff like themes and morals without having to solely rely on in-character logic and argumentation, which, as Ghostbur put it so eloquently, is comprised of a bunch of unreliable narrators.

Character analysis is great if we want dive deep, if we really want to give a character flavour and understand their motivations. It helps make the universe feel like it is alive, like it’s real. But – and this might be a shocker for you – it’s not real. It’s written. It is construction – and as such, in its construction, it has messages and themes and morals, intentionally or unintentionally.

By being so focused on specific characters and their individual journeys, viewpoints and motivation we really run the risk of not looking at the bigger picture and fail to see what the overarching narrative is actually communicating. And we may also fail to understand how characters might or might not fit into the overarching narrative.

Speaking of which …

 Thesis #2: Technoblade experiences very little Meaningfultm Thematic Conflict

Okay, let’s talk about Technoblade. I’m sure I’m not going to get any hate for this one.

I want to preface by saying that I don’t watch Technoblade’s streams; I catch up though clip channels and summaries. I’m mainly watching Tommy, Tubbo and Quackity – which is honestly already more than I can handle – but I want to be clear that while I’ll try to be as even-handed as possible – like I explained previously – the way I consumed the storylines will undoubtedly leave me with some bias.

Also, needless to say, I’m talking about the character Technoblade, not the actual content creator, unless I specifically say so. That should be obvious.

Now, I’m not doing a Technoblade character analysis, because that would be hypocritical of me – seeing how I just bitched about the overwhelming amounts of character analyses in the fandom – but I’ll try my best to summarize what is necessary.

Technoblade’s interesting in that he is a very static character – at least inwardly – he doesn’t change much. He is very steadfast in his beliefs and ideals and has very little introspection. He doesn’t question himself; he doesn’t waver, he is never in a bind about whether what he’s doing is right or wrong. He is very much a parallel to early TommyInnit – who, of course, famously said “I’m always in the right”.

And I want to emphasize that I mean this in no way as a critique of Techno’s character. A static character provides a nice contrast to more dynamic characters and can balance them out. It can also be utilised by the writing as a character flaw – which is what I hope content creator Techno is going for.

Like Techno doesn’t have a lot of empathy in the sense that he is particularly skilled at or interested in trying to see the viewpoints of others. There is never an attempt to reconcile, for example, the goal of the Pogtopians to reclaim L’Manberg and install another administration with his desire for an anarchist society. This is also compounded with his overreliance on violence as the only tactic for conflict resolution – Techno has a whole thesis statement about violence being the only universal language. I’m sure you’ve heard the quote.

And lastly, what really drives this all over the edge, is his all-or-nothing approach when dealing with the enemy – he is not so much eye for an eye as he is – to use another biblical example – you make fun of me for being bald and I’ll sic two bears on you that maul and kill you and 41 other children.

There’s also the open and completely unacknowledged hypocrisy of a self-described anarchist working together with a man that installs and dethrones Kings with his every whim – someone who – and I cannot stress this enough – hits about every box when it comes to the definition of tyrant.

So, what I’m saying is that Technoblade is the Dream SMP equivalent of Dick Chenney. C’mon you know it’s true! He will bomb that freedom into your country whether you want him to or not. That’s some cogent political commentary in the year 2021.

Okay, so now that I’ve outlined his character, what kind of conflicts does Technoblade face. Well, it’s mostly physical or external. He fights a lot whether it’s against Quackity or Sapnap or bodying Karl Jacobs five times in a row. And – with the exception of maybe Sapnap – none of it is challenging. Technoblade is the best PvP-Player on the server – there really isn’t much tension to be had from a purely physical fight.

So, how are these fights supplemented emotionally. Well, internally there is not a lot going on. As I said before, Technoblade isn’t really an introspective character. Even during his shouting match with Tommy there’s not a sense that Technoblade is wavering or unsure of himself in the way that Tommy is. He exposits that one of the reasons, he acts like he does is that he feels dehumanized; that people only use him like a weapon and then discard or even try to neutralize him once he’s no longer useful.

But that is not something that Technoblade has to grapple with – it’s not conflict for him, it’s more conflict for Tommy. Technoblade is self-assured in that he’s a person and not a weapon – it’s almost like there was a character arc there, where Technoblade self-actualizes and breaks away from the people that want to use him. But we didn’t see any of it. Technoblade unleashes the withers; then he goes into retirement because he wants to be, I suppose, and then he returns to violence as a reaction to the Butcher Army. There is a story of vengeance here, but not any conflict about being used. There is never a point where we see Technoblade come to this realization or comes to assert himself.

In season 1 there’s never a push from Pogtopia where the narrative frames them as exploiting Technoblade. He fights with them of his own volition, he gives them weapons and armour of his own volition. Nobody pressured Techno into procuring their inventory for the fight. And in Season 2, he’s the one to approach Tommy about their potential partnership – he is in the position of power here, explicitly not Tommy.

Like, I’m sorry, if this ruffles some feathers, but I really don’t see this arc where Technoblade is being used. There’s a story of misunderstanding and maybe co-dependency – but not of dehumanization. This entire line of thought seems to solely reference that moment, where Tommy says to Sapnap “I have the blade” during one of their wars – which, to base an entire emotional arc around that without any further set-up, is, and I’m sorry to say that, incredibly flimsy.

Okay, so we covered physical and emotional conflict? But what about conflict on the narrative level? Well, that leads me to my suprathesis …

 Suprathesis: The Narrative is Unclear on how it treats Technoblade … and that’s Not Good.

Here’s a Hot Take: The narrative of Season 1 treats Technoblade way less sympathetically than that of season 2.

Let me explain. The narrative of Season 1 revolves mostly around Wilbur and Tommy. The emotional fulcrum of the overall narrative is Wilbur’s rise and fall from Grace – and Tommy succeeding him as symbol of L’Manberg’s “special”-ness. Now I will talk about all that more in detail, when I talk about Season 1 of the Dream SMP. So, you’ll just have to go with me on this one for now.

Technoblade, by contrast, doesn’t really have much going on thematically in Season 1. He mostly exists as a sort-of utilitarian character – he is an accessory to make story beats happen. Like him executing Tubbo doesn’t open up any sort of thematic conflict involving him – on a character level it sets up antipathy between him and Tommy and it grants us some insight into how he operates with his violence speech – but on a larger-scale narrative level it really just shows how far Wilbur and Tommy have drifted apart in how they react to the event.

His biggest contribution is during the Season 1 finale, but even there he plays second fiddle to Wilbur. Not just because Wilbur does way more destruction with his explosion than Techno does with his Withers, but also because Wilbur had an emotional and thematic climax to his arc and by extension the entire storyline. Like Techno’s is a cool moment and very epic visual but in terms of thematic relevance, his Theseus-speech is really more set-up for Season 2.

And Season 1 is very unambiguous about L’Manberg being good and Tommy’s ideals ultimately being morally justified – I mean, they have a whole speech about it in the end and it was built-up throughout the entire Season – Techno is cast in a … less than sympathetic light. He is, if not a villain, then definitely an antagonist.

But with Season 2 the narrative is either uninterested in or not very clear on exploring Technoblade’s flaws.

Like ask yourselves: is Technoblade’s character ever consciously challenged by the narrative? Are his actions ultimately shown to not be in the right? Are his beliefs about government and power ever called into question? Are the negative consequences that his actions cause ever shown to be larger than the “good” he does?

I think what exemplifies this the most is how the Butcher Army event played out on December 16th. Now, during that event, the Butcher Army, which was comprised of Tubbo, Quackity, Fundy and Ranboo, managed to apprehend Technoblade, who at that point was living the quiet retirement life, and tried to have him publicly executed – without trial.

Now, smarter people than me have pointed out that the Butcher Army had a bevy of in-character reasons that can justify or explain their actions. And that’s definitely interesting, but as I said before, I want to get away from that and look into how the Butcher Army is treated on a narrative level. Because this is one of the few instances where the otherwise grey-loving Season 2 has some very clear narrative intent when it comes to morality.

The Butcher Army is very deliberately framed as almost cartoonishly corrupt and violent. They very forcefully investigate Philza, mock him and then put him under house arrest – and there’s just no remorse in the script even from normally sympathetic characters like Tubbo.

Compare and contrast with the Tommy-exile scene, which is also an act of moral ambiguity and is treated as such. And things get even worse once the Army arrives at Technoblade’s abode and attack him after he softly tells them that he has left that live behind him. They then proceed to take his horse hostage, mock him and execute him without fair trial – and I haven’t seen it but from live commentary I gathered that Techno really played up the whole softie-schtick before the Butcher Army arrived. I mean, before the big Technoblade vs Quackity fight, Quackity had whole villain monologue for Christ’s sake.

And even afterwards, the Butcher Army really plays up the corrupt angle with Tubbo proposing a festival as a guise to publicly execute someone. And again, I know that on an intradiegetic there’s nuances and it’s not really comparable to the Red Festival, but in combination with what the audience has seen up until that point and with how much it feeds into the already established themes of history repeating itself and becoming like your predecessors, it really does not paint a pretty picture of the Tubbo administration.

You can feel the heavy hand of the script on your shoulder, which is a feat seeing how – as discussed before – that’s not something that can be easily accomplished in this medium.

And that is what I mean when I say that Technoblade is not really challenged by the script and is in this case even emboldened by it. Because after this whole ordeal the thought of Technoblade taking revenge by destroying L’Manberg doesn’t seem like such an extreme response to the viewer – even though in my opinion, it is.

As of right now it is too early to say how the narrative will judge Technoblade’s actions in the future. Will they be framed as extreme but ultimately justified or perpetuating a cycle of ever-escalating vengeance? Will we ever see a government that’s not just at best misguided and at worst completely awful?

Ultimately, I believe and hope that Technoblade will be challenged by the narrative, mostly because a character that cannot, believably, be physically challenged, who doesn’t have any meaningful internal conflict about what he’s doing; and who does come out on the other side having everything he always believed in be proven completely in the right by the narrative, would be incredibly boring. Not just to watch but also to play as.

As it stands now, if the destruction Techno, Phil and Dream inflicted upon L’Manburg is framed as ultimately in the right, I would find it personally a distasteful message to send. I would ultimately say that the “correct” way to counter corruption in government is to completely obliterate the entire country. Like we’re not talking simply disbanding the government – that’s not what Doomsday was – we’re talking complete and utter annihilation. And that would be cynical and depressing. Like, call me a big softie, but even bothsidesing this argument would be bad.

Like, I’m not calling for Technoblade to be transformed into or treated a monster like Dream. But I personally feel like the narrative needs to acknowledge that the Doomsday was something that was taken way too far and that it ultimately brought more harm than good. And Technoblade needs to held accountable by someone who is not a cartoonishly corrupt government-official or who is in conflict with him anyway, like Tommy.

I thought Philza or Ranboo could do that but seeing how their storylines are progressing I don’t believe that will be the case. But who knows, maybe Captain Puffy will come through for us. We stan a Queen.

 Conclusion

So, yeah, I made this entire video just to air out my grievances with how one-sided the mode of analysis is in the fandom, because no person actually involved with the production of Dream SMP will ever see this.

But after everything I am cautiously optimistic, that content creator Technoblade knows what he’s doing. He has talked in the past about how his character is a bad guy and he loves his Greek myths. After all what’s more Greek myth than hybris being rewarded with punishment? [Technoblade never dies] That bodes well for him.

Also, this isn’t the video I promised at the end of the last one!

[monsterqueers]

New Essay Up

New essay up on the website!

props and credit to @shadowfae , whos panel on problematic sources at Othercon 2021 motivated and inspired me to write about morality differences.

Alignments - A Memory Dump Essay

Essay has also been transcribed under this readmore if thats easier to read for anyone.

Morality, in The Before, was different, in the sense that there were Allignments.

I am A Silver Dragon, from a slightly AU-ed Dungeons and Dragons world. Alignments there dictated whether you were good or evil, lawful or chaotic. You may have seen the grid around, the nine squares with things like ‘neutral good’ and ‘lawful evil’ on them. This is that.

When I say ‘good’ and ‘evil’ I mean a different concept than the behavior choices that fall into ‘doing harm’ and ‘helping people’. There were words differing between the two in dragonic, though I do not remember them now, for what I am talking about.

In this world, ‘good’, ‘evil’, ‘lawful’ and ‘chaotic’ - the dragonic forms of these words, were not behavior descriptors, nor intention descriptions. They were factions, and many species simply could not choose their born faction or change it very much if they could. These factions were generally due to god interference in the creation of that species, and it meant certain magics worked or did not work against/for them or they had traits that were often seen as harmful. The correct translation for ‘good’ and ‘evil’ is more accurately ‘darkness’ and ‘light’, though lawful and chaotic are close enough to ‘things that follow order’, and ‘things that reject order’.

These alignments said very little about the behavior they exhibited or the morals they had. The dragonic word for ‘evil’ as in how people here use it to mean ‘does harm to others’ could be retranslated as ‘being an asshole’. A person aligned lawful good could regularly commit tax fraud and beat their wife, and a person who was chaotic evil could be a pacifist who gardens and is passionate about healthcare reform.

For some of the littlefolk (the Polite translated dragonic word for humans and elves and the like), this was more flexible, and generally littlefolk would not consider those who did large amounts of harm to their in-group to be good aligned, nor people who had never done harm any worse than neutral, despite this not being the case magically speaking. It could make things rather confusing when talking to the layman, as much of the littlefolk could simply choose whatever faction they liked and often could jump ship whenever they liked too.

There were other various littlefolk somewhat limited in their alignment choice however- a Drow could not be ‘good’, and Aasimir could not be ‘evil’, for example. Usually this was split down the good and evil, rather than lawful and chaotic, as the ‘good’ and ‘evil’ deities held the most active sway.

Think of it like nationality, I suppose. Its the closest equivalent. Some people can't ever gain citizenship in a country other than their country of birth even if they want to, others can do so with a bit of work.

Dragons, however, didn’t have this sort of choice. All true dragons were born a specific alignment to do with their species, and inherent instincts to follow the tenants generally professed by that faction. This is one of the major traits that separated a True -also known as Greater- Dragon from other dragonic creatures, such as fairy dragons, wyverns, and rust dragons, actually. Other dragonic creatures had some wiggle room.

Chromatic dragons were all evil aligned, Gem dragons were all neutral aligned, and Metallic dragons were all good aligned. Planar dragons, while true dragons, were another matter and their alignments were to nothing on the scale as their origin points and commitments were beyond the gods of that my former plane’s influence. Lung dragons were a type of Planar dragon in my canon, instead of their own category.

The individual species of those groupings each had a assigned further spot. A Gold Dragon was ALWAYS Lawful Good, whether they are an abhorrent entity or not, and a White Dragon was always Chaotic Evil.

The individual species were as follows(* for ones that are AU to dnd 5e canon but are true to mine):

Chaotic Evil - Red, Black, Yellow, White

Neutral Evil - Brown, Purple*, Gray

Lawful Evil - Blue, Green

Chaotic Neutral - Topaz, Crystal

True Neutral - Amber, Amethyst, Obsidian*, Prismatic

Lawful Neutral - Emerald, Sapphire

Chaotic Good - Copper, Mercury*, Brass

Neutral Good - Silver*, Iron*

Lawful Good - Gold, Bronze, Platinum*, Steel

So I was and am a Silver Dragon. Bahumat created metallic dragons with the intention of combating His sister Tiamat, who created chromatic dragons in turn. The deities of Law and Chaos- neither touched my kind deeply. We could use all magic aligned with the light or neutral powers, and none of the dark. There was little magic that was specifically aligned with order and chaos, but all of that was accessible, provided the spell was not of the shadow. Things that repelled creatures of the light could keep me out.

The more ‘good’ creatures that existed in the world in relation to ‘evil’ ones brought more and less power to Bahumat and Tiamat in their eternal fight. So long as one ‘good’ or ‘evil’ creature existed, neither god could die and they were driven to wipe each other out. The same could be said of the law and chaos deities.

Of my life, the beginning is murky. Once I was grown enough to roam, I first Adventured with a elven rider companion and then lived upon a mountain lair until my death. Towards the middle and latter end, the towns at its base paid me rites and respect for my guardianship. These rites did technically elevate me to a minor god* capable of working greater magic. I also had a village much closer to and in my lair, one where I took those who asked my asylum who perhaps needed greater safety or guidance.

I would defend my territory and would help those who asked. It was a good life, and I hold little to no exotrauma from it.

*not to be confused with Greater gods, which are what effect Alignment or embody big concepts, minor gods are just those who are Believed in by enough people- and thus given power from that collective Belief

The divide between what was and what is is deeper and more shallow that one would expect, all at once.

I’ve started tentatively identifying as a walk-in relatively recently, my selfhood simply showed up one day and the original, whos interests, opinions, demeanor, and identity was different than mine disappeared shortly thereafter. The system has many theories on how exactly this happened, the origins thus such, and how much of the original’s ego was made into me, and also exactly when. The transition was rather seamless and there was much brain weirdness to muddle it all and convince me that I have always been here. None of us know the answer, and it generally doesn’t matter in practice.

The experiences of the original that I inherited gave a large amount of distance to this life. For reference, I Awakened as a Silver Dragon ~2014 perhaps 2015 -time is muddy- or so- having finally put together all the noema and shifts and assorted feelings that were not my cat theriotype into what they were. I had been in the body for a good handful of years previous to that, however. It gives me a distance from that life. My memories and retained selfhood from that life are dull- a botched reincarnation. I remember just enough- I experience just enough bleedover that it upholds a pillar of my identity and I still identify as the being of that life, but not so much I am exactly as-is.

I want to do a little disclaimer- The statement that this definitively IS a past life and I AM a walk in and these ARE memories of a past life is a theory, not fact. I do not and cannot know if my theory is right, and I have a healthy dose of skepticism in regards to this. My experiences could be sourced to many things, however I experience my draconity in a fashion that is similar to how others describe their past life experiences. It fits accounts better than the accounts of people who are not past-life otherkin. It feels right to describe these experiences as such, and so I do. Perhaps one day my understanding of this may change, but for now it is as such.

Returning to the topic at hand; its a point of frustration to me almost to the point of dysphoria, how good and evil, and moral and immoral are used in society here and how. Good and evil denote both the ingroup-outgroup AND the moral standard, equating sinful with strange with harmful behavior. Evil no longer means ‘entity supporting or created by Tiamat’- who is night and shadow. Good no longer means ‘entity supporting or created by Bahumat’- who is day and light.

The congruence of good with helping and evil with harming is far more intense here, Bahumat and Tiamat as I know them hold no power here- as they shouldn’t. Their place was in my old reality and that is as far as those entities reach. The assignment of moral values to enjoyment of a thing or thoughts, rather than actions is wholly new, and honestly quite unpleasant.

Evil here, becomes ‘entity that enjoys harming’ and often ‘anyone I don’t like’

Good here them also becomes ‘entity that enjoys helping’ and often ‘anyone I do like’

There will be people who insist to ignore people that do that last part and claim that it doesn’t matter- that the social realities of how others assign you do not matter, but I disagree.

Being queer, kinky, mentally ill, neurodivergent, disabled, and a strong leftist among other things means people will think me evil for existing quite a bit. Stigmatized minorities are othered, our traits become evil no matter how kind we may be.

Society calls us evil, has designated us evil- alright, how is this a bad thing?

Disassociating Evil from moral allows one to reclaim Evil. Ok, we are Evil now, but oh, no less kind. No less caring. Take the words slung at you and make armor out of them.

And also no matter how kind you may be, by this metric if you enjoy causing pain and destruction, you are evil.

This… is a thoughtcrime thing. No matter how you conduct yourself in life, if you enjoy pain you are evil to society at large. So as above, unlink Evil from Moral, and it is reclaimable.

How people assign you is a material reality you can choose to make hold no power over you. You can make it your own scales.

It is for the reason of words changing meanings, of the fact that my god I was born to does not reach here and thus frees me from obligations, that I no longer identify as Neutral Good. It simply does not mean the same thing anymore and I can now choose my alignment besides. Bahumat was no terrible god to serve or anything, but I would have appreciated the choice if it was not hardwired into my dragon brain at the time to be devoted to such a being.

I take joy in harm and at the same time take joy in helping, I think the absence of care of society is not something I can do, nor do I think rigid obedience is right.

Thus I would consider myself in the alignments of this world today as True Neutral.

Not to mention I have chosen the service of a True Neutral god in Cernunnos, so by my former world’s standards I am True Neutral now as well.

It feels right, to identify as such now. Society considers me evil enough I am too sin-stained to be good, but I have too much love of creation and helping to be wholly evil.

I believe that rules are necessary or we get Situations that cause harm to others, but at the same time am too Anarchist-leaning to not chafe under absolute order.

Still, the... Dissatisfaction with how people use alignments here persists.

[sacred-algae]

In celebration of The Great Gatsby entering public domian, I would like to publish an essay I wrote a few years back. Because I hate The Great Gatsby with the burning passion of a thousand suns.

A Character Analysis of The Great Gatsby:

Gatsby, Nick and Daisy

“The Great Gatsby” by F. Scott Fitzgerald is often revered as one of the greatest American novels of all time. It makes us take off our rose-colored glasses and look at the rich whom we idolize so much. But are our perspectives of this book also tinted by its title of the great American novel? We are often misdirected in this book to forget many important quotes that change the way we look at the main characters completely. Authors make sure that everything in the book has a purpose. If it was included, it’s important and shouldn't be ignored. Readers often place certain expectations on the characters due to its high status, however, this paper will show that the characters in question are not as they are commonly perceived, whether good or bad, and explore the complex writing behind the characters, Nick, Gatsby, and Daisy.

Although Nick Carraway is seen by many for who he is, arrogant and judgemental, they still miss out on the bigger picture. He glorifies violence and he is a cheater. The problem with Nick and the book is that rather than the book being written by Fitzgerald, it is written by Nick. Because of this, we see him in a glorified manner. The first few lines of the book show this. “In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since.” (pg. 3) Using the words “younger”, “vulnerable” and even “father” he immediately ensures that we have his sympathy. He does the same thing again later, and more directly, at the very end of chapter three. “Everyone suspects himself of at least one of the cardinal virtues, and this is mine: I am one of the few honest people that I have ever known.” (pg. 65) This is where most people begin to see his true self shine through. However, it should be seen much earlier. In chapter one he mentions something very sinister. “I participated in that delayed Teutonic migration known as the Great War. I enjoyed the counter-raid so thoroughly that I came back restless. Instead of being the warm center of the world the middle-west now seemed like the ragged edge of the universe” (pg. 5) Nick says directly to the reader that he enjoyed WWI. Only second to WWII (85,000,000 or 3% of the entire world’s population), WWI is the bloodiest war in world history with a death toll of 16,000,000. 40,000,000 if you include deaths resulting from the Spanish Flu. (statistics from Wikipedia) For someone to enjoy being at war there has to be something majorly wrong with them. Not only that but it can be said with near certainty that Nick was cheating on a girl out west when he had his fling with Jordan. In chapter one after dinner with the Buchanans this conversation tasks place. “As I started my motor Daisy peremptorily called ‘Wait! ‘I forgot to ask you something, and it’s important. We heard you were engaged to a girl out West.’ ‘That’s right,’ corroborated Tom kindly. ‘We heard that you were engaged.’ ‘It’s libel. I’m too poor.’ ‘But we heard it,’ insisted Daisy, surprising me by opening up again in a flower-like way. ‘We heard it from three people so it must be true.’” (pg. 23) For there to be rumors that someone is engaged with someone else it has to be commonly known that they are in a relationship. Nick is a severely flawed, if not evil, character.

Many people strive to be like Jay Gatsby, with his charm and “extraordinary gift for hope.” Even then, the biggest argument of the book is whether or not he truly loves Daisy. Most clues point to no. Gatsby even remarks that “‘Her voice is full of money,’” (pg. 128). He sees her as a prize to be won. He chases her, she’s the final thing he needs to have his perfect life. And during a flashback to his first kiss with her, right before the iconic passage where “she blossomed for him like a flower,” Fitzgerald describes his desire for her like this: “The quiet lights in the houses were humming out into the darkness and there was a stir and bustle among the stars. Out of the corner of his eye Gatsby saw that the blocks of the sidewalk really formed a ladder and mounted to a secret place above the trees—he could climb to it, if he climbed alone, and once there he could suck on the pap of life, gulp down the incomparable milk of wonder.” Possibly the most frightening passage in the book. It sounds like some bestial craving. But that is just his relationship with Daisy. Tom accuses him of bootlegging. “‘I found out what your ‘drug stores’ were.’ He turned to us and spoke rapidly. ‘He and this Wolfshiem bought up a lot of side-street drug stores here and in Chicago and sold grain alcohol over the counter. That’s one of his little stunts. I picked him for a bootlegger the first time I saw him and I wasn’t far wrong.’” (pg.143) We never are told explicitly that this is true but it is left to the reader to decide this. And there is plenty of evidence. When Gatsby is giving Daisy a tour of the mansion we hear him on his side of a phone call. “...the phone rang and Gatsby took up the receiver. ‘Yes…. Well, I can’t talk now…. I can’t talk now, old sport…. I said a SMALL town…. He must know what a small town is…. Well, he’s no use to us if Detroit is his idea of a small town….’” (pg. 100-101) This again isn't explicit but why would the person in question be of no use to him if they think that Detroit is a small town? They need a small town. If it is a big one it is easier for the police to track his business. And after Gatsby dies Nick answers another business call. “...said Chicago was calling...‘This is Slagle speaking....’ ‘Yes?’ The name was unfamiliar. ‘Hell of a note, isn’t it? Get my wire?’ ‘There haven’t been any wires.’ ‘Young Parke’s in trouble,’ he said rapidly. ‘They picked him up when he handed the bonds over the counter. They got a circular from New York giving ‘em the numbers just five minutes before. What d’you know about that, hey? You never can tell in these hick towns——‘ ‘Hello!’ I interrupted breathlessly. ‘Look here—this isn’t Mr. Gatsby. Mr. Gatsby’s dead.’” This is a hint towards Gatsby making money selling counterfeit bonds. A business that he tried to recruit Nick too. “‘Why, I thought—why, look here, old sport, you don’t make much money, do you?’ ‘Not very much.’ This seemed to reassure him and he continued more confidently. ‘I thought you didn’t, if you’ll pardon my—you see, I carry on a little business on the side, a sort of sideline, you understand. And I thought that if you don’t make very much—You’re selling bonds, aren’t you, old sport?’ ‘Trying to.’ ‘Well, this would interest you. It wouldn’t take up much of your time and you might pick up a nice bit of money. It happens to be a rather confidential sort of thing.’” (pg. 88-89) Why is it confidential? Because it’s illegal. Not only is Gatsby’s relationship with Daisy toxic, but he is a mobster. This in itself isn’t problematic, but people may have died because of him, and the book shies past this point.

Daisy Buchanan is hated by most people who read the book. It is said that she is shallow and arrogant. This is a look to the surface. First, it is important to understand Daisy and Tom’s ages. When the book takes place Daisy is 23, Tom is 30. Making Daisy 18 and Tom 25 at the time they were married. While she is legal this marriage is incredibly creepy. She is stuck in a marriage with a racist, cheating, borderline abusive husband. And she knows this. Even then she is brave enough to call him out (and mock him) on his racism in chapter one at dinner. “‘Tom’s getting very profound,’ said Daisy with an expression of unthoughtful sadness. ‘He reads deep books with long words in them. What was that word we——‘ ‘Well, these books are all scientific,’ insisted Tom…” (pg. 16) She’s trapped in a situation where she has no control. She tries to reclaim her life through Gatsby but she quickly learns that he isn’t different. “‘Please don’t.’ Her voice was cold, but the rancour was gone from it. She looked at Gatsby. ‘There, Jay,’ she said— but her hand as she tried to light a cigarette was trembling. Suddenly she threw the cigarette and the burning match on the carpet. ‘Oh, you want too much!’ she cried to Gatsby. ‘I love you now—isn’t that enough? I can’t help what’s past.’ She began to sob helplessly. ‘I did love him once—but I loved you too.’” (pg. 141-142). Daisy lives in a society where women are seen and not heard. She knows this but still does what she can to speak for herself. She is incredibly smart. People don’t give her enough credit. Take the iconic line, “Well, she was less than an hour old and Tom was God knows where. I woke up out of the ether with an utterly abandoned feeling and asked the nurse right away if it was a boy or a girl. She told me it was a girl, and so I turned my head away and wept. ‘All right,’ I said, ‘I’m glad it’s a girl. And I hope she’ll be a fool—that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.’” (pg. 20)

She is smart enough to see what is happening around her and it breaks her, that's why she wants her daughter to be a fool. She’ll never have to question it, she’ll never know it, she’ll always be happy.

“The Great Gatsby” indeed is a great book. One with deeply complex characters. But we need to take a second look at them, not just accept what others tell us. Because of its high status, the characters of “The Great Gatsby” are often subject to preconceived notions, through discussing and analyzing quotes in the book you can begin to see both sides of Nick, Gatsby, and Daisy. When we see someone say something about them, or any person, or anything, question it. As the great Albert Einstein once said-“The important thing is to never stop questioning.”

We need to stop idolizing Nick and Gatsby, and stop victim blaming Daisy. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

[bookandcover]

This was an absolutely beautiful novel with a subtle allure that will linger in my mind for a long time. I love Miller’s writing style, which seems to pay homage to the Classics she loves and studies in depth. 

It’s rare to meet a main character who is immortal, but here we have Circe, side figure in The Odyssey where she is painted primarily as a villain, born of an ancient god and a river nymph, yet living alone and on the fringes of the social stratification among humans and gods—a situation which, Miller must have intuited, bespeaks a woman who has not conformed to society’s expectations for her, the quintessential “witch.” What could growth of character within the experience of immortality possibly look like? This seems to me to present a real literary challenge, as so many books rely on character development, a change in the protagonist from beginning to end. Why would someone who is immortal grow or change? Why would their life play out with any type of directionality or plot arc? 

I realized these problems with an immortal heroine part way through the book and started to ask how the structure of a novel could be forced onto the life of an immortal. How could Miller’s novel end? What makes the conflict and the resolution when the novel started with her birth? If Circe lives on and on, what might tell us that some part of her story has arrived at an ending? 

These questions get brilliantly answered as (spoiler!!) Circle chooses mortality. In the process of the protagonist making this choice, the book poignantly reflects on what gives life meaning. Is immortality meaningless, when we have no motivation for growth and no motivation for life itself, as each day, each forever, we could do and try anything, ad infinitum? Is it our mortality, and our awareness of it, that makes any moment meaningful and life-changing? The meaning-making power of mortality is something Circe sees, and longs for herself, in observing the mortal lives around her. But it takes her falling in love with a mortal—Telemachus, strangely the son of her once-lover Odysseus—to make the final change in her, to bring about her own mortality through her magic. Circe’s relationships with both Odysseus and Telemachus capture the strangeness of immortality, as she is able to experience the lives and love of both men in a kind of stasis, while they change and age. Yet, Circe herself is changing internally and she is changed by each of her lovers. She is different when she loves Telemachus, softer and more open, although, in part, this must be Telemachus’s goodness to which she responds. 

This book was incredibly satisfying, but also challenging (i.e. I didn’t always agree) in its re-characterization of familiar characters. Odysseus, who I kind of dislike in the original source text (sure, he wants to go home, but he also seems to be really “out there for the adventure”), was characterized according to his most epithet-worthy traits, a man so twisted by his own mind’s machinations that he doesn’t have much space for kindness or for receiving other people as people (this characterization seems pretty accurate to the original text). He’s also strongly associated with his true love for Penelope, a love he speaks about and references, but that seems strangely performative here (particularly as he falls willingly into Circe’s bed). I actually think Odysseus of the original text seems more likable, more loyal when compared to this portrait of him. I think he was characterized as too likable, too charged with uniqueness, in the middle part of this book when he’s first introduced, and while I felt weird about his affair with Circe, his preciousness is later dramatically challenged via the viewpoints of his sons. Telemachus, much gentler than Odysseus, is haunted by the murders he committed, on his father’s orders, of the maids Penelope’s suitors took for lovers during their sojourn in the palace. Circe’s son Telegonus is drawn to Odysseus and longs to go him, leaving Circe in order to go to Ithaca, only to accidentally kill the king with the weapon he’d brought with him (the string ray tail of Trigon given to him by Circe as a form of protection) when the king of Ithaca’s tries to seize it from his son who he will not listen to. We also see the ending of The Odyssey when Odysseus returns home and destroys the suitors through Telemachus’s eyes, the shocking changes in Odysseus, mad with suspicion, who is willing to eliminate all the nobility of his island country who have tried to usurp his place in his long absence. 

I really love both Telemachus and Penelope in the original, and Telemachus offers, in so many ways, the counter-point to his father’s harshness and objectivity, both in The Odyssey and in Miller’s novel. Is Telemachus the man who modern readers will feel most drawn to in The Odyssey (I felt this, and would theorize that his virtues are widely appreciated)? Does his popularity—and the, therefore, fitting choice to have him be the real romantic love interest in Miller’s novel—reflect changing standards of masculinity with culture and time (is Telemachus admired in time periods later than that of pillaging Greece?) or a change in The Odyssey’s readership, as Telemachus appeals to female readers who once wouldn’t have consumed any reading, and especially classical reading, at a high volume? Selecting Telemachus, the ideal man, to play the romantic lead seems like a smart update of this text for the 21st Century audience. 

        This is my son, mine own Telemachus, To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle,— Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil This labour, by slow prudence to make mild A rugged people, and thro' soft degrees Subdue them to the useful and the good. Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere Of common duties, decent not to fail In offices of tenderness, and pay Meet adoration to my household gods, When I am gone. He works his work, I mine.

~an excerpt from Ulysses by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Miller’s novel reminded me, though, of how much more I adore The Iliad than The Odyssey, and examining the casting of Telemachus as the ultimate love interest over Odysseus, Hermes, and Daedalus, reminded me of the character that I’ve seen modern audiences most deeply adore: Hector. Several years ago, my new co-worker and I bonded over reading a student’s personal statement for college that was all about his love for Hector from The Iliad. This moment felt like joining a secret club of people who inherently understood each other, who felt some deep recognition of each other, who felt seen, because we loved and treasured Hector. “Hector, am I right?” “YES. Hector.” Hector was something beyond any words we had to explain him. We just GOT IT. I loved seeing a 17-year-old boy from Beijing, China read The Iliad and be like “HECTOR THOUGH” to me and to his other teacher. Hector is the softer counter-point to Achilles in The Iliad, the family-man, the son, the brother, the golden Prince of Troy. He is steadfast beside Paris’s ridiculousness. He’s the son for whom his old father will risk his life to reclaim his body. He’s the nearly unbeatable warrior who also gets the most touching of moments, gently holding his toddler, speaking with his clever wife. This is the man across Homer’s two books who was, for me, the most modern-day ideal. Maybe Hector has to remain, though, for all of us, shared among our common imaginations. Telemachus, it was fine if Circe claimed him. 

Circe, at the beginning of the novel, is not a likable heroine. She’s clueless, bumbling, not attentive to way she’s being used by others. She doesn’t seem to have a lot of backbone. Yet, I was astonished at how much she changed and how beautifully wrought the gradual changes in her were. As she grows in independence, she grows immensely in likability. Although she has a happy ending with Telemachus, this love story somehow never felt inevitable. The different men she loves are part of her story. Yes, she is shaped by them, as she is shaped by her friendships, her rivalries, her relationships with her horrifying siblings. But the story is all about her. Circe is the center and her experiences with lovers shape her and her growth; she is not a side character in someone else’s story, bending to support them. She does change her immortality in response to love (in the sense of trying to fit herself to what someone else expects), but she brings about this change through her own power and strength of will. I can’t explain this right, but it’s true: it feels like a revolutionary notion that an independent woman be the main character and the story be just her story: the things she goes through on her own, with others, others passing through her life, her thoughts and feelings, her sequence of growth. It doesn’t sound revolutionary because we see female protagonists maybe 50% of the time these days across many genres (how far we’ve come!) yet how often do we see love interests exist in plots not to further the love itself (not to be arrived at, as a happy end point, a relationship, a marriage), but to further the growth of the female protagonist? Men, somehow, get to be the center of their own stories. Women, do they really get to have this? To be just THEM, and not be playing any role within society or within a family? Circe’s story arc made me SEE her as the main character in a way that somehow far too many female-led narratives utterly miss. 

I realized, for the first time (which is frankly alarming), while reading this book that because Ithaca (New York, in my case) is my birthplace, I ought to feel a strange affinity for Odysseus. Ithaca is home. It has a mythic quality. I’ve lived in a lot of places. I’ve traveled a lot. I’ve seen things, people, landscapes, creatures beyond what I could have imagined. My life has been my own odyssey, and I’ve left Ithaca far behind. Unlike Odysseus, I’m not trying to go back. The world out here is full of adventures. 

[vogelmeister]

I know you posted the list like 10 hours ago, but if you’re still up to it, 1, 4 and 20 for the writer asks?

Hi!

Nah I normally post asks right before I sleep so yeah, I am always up for it. Mainly because the early hours of the morning are peak tumblr hours for most ppl but not for me. Also sorry this took so long!!

1. Which one do you want? The script that I wanna write to submit to my uni’s drama society? the short i wrote about a post dam falling netherlands (actually it’s not meant to be obvious it’s the netherlands- like i just called it the capital city and all but i never say it’s name) It is in essence, the netherlands - like the whole thing with water inspired it and the main character’s name is annemieke for crying out loud. Or the 100,000 word thing that is meant to be the longest thing i’ve ever written.

It is, the longest thing I have ever written.

So basically in essence the story is- there is this vaguely western european nation (i had to invent one otherwise the story wouldn’t work for me- which ended up being just as hard) and it is a monarchy. The Queen has just died (rip her) and her eldest son is about to become king. But then in a jealous fit of rage, the sister assassinates him at the coronation ball and claims the throne. The King’s wife and children basically yeet out of the country because the sister has promised they’d die too if found. So basically they have to figure out how to reclaim their country, country falls to pieces while they’re gone, all the fun stuff.

Like I said, it is done. It has a start, middle, and end. It is written on paper (a word doc actually). But I’ll never be done toying with it- I’ll always find little details to add, or ways to improve it, or plotholes to fill (especially the final few scenes because sometimes I notices characters knowing stuff they shouldn’t so I need to find out why they know it).

I love it most because it’s mine. It’s been with me for two years. I love writing about a royal family (even though I think the british royals aren’t great and it’s a very flawed system), I am proud of it. I used it as an escape in my final years of high school and will continue to do so. It will never be perfect but it’s mine.

4. Remember how I said that there’s bits of my writing that are genuinely good, but it was written by me so it instantly cancels it out.  Yeah. This is it.

To most people in this city, I was a stranger. However, to the city itself, I was a familiar face. The alleyways would welcome me back like a distant memory, the river would kiss my fingers like they were old friends, and the buildings would smile down on me like I was an honorary Frankfurter. The entanglement of lies may be untied soon- but the invisible string between me and Frankfurt would still bind us forever.

I uh... think about this line a lot. I’m very proud of it.

20.  Oh god. This is hard. The only thing I can think of is Charlotte Anders. I feel there are lots of neat little hints to her past and her fate peppered throughout. I’m not sure if it’s only obvious to me, but the way she talks about the crown- it feels like to me she knows it’s never gonna be hers.  I also recently found out Anders means different in Dutch and German, which was defs a coincidence but I cannot stop thinking about how well it fits. It’s been so long I forget whether it could have potentially been on purpose, but I can pretend it was. She’s different from the royal family as she’s a commoner, but not only that her past is very different to what she tells people (also Anders isnt her actual surname so spicy)

[floatingpetals]

Call Of The Mountains || Ch. 1

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes (Werewolf AU!)

Warnings: Nothin

Word Count: 1700+

Summary:  (Werewolf-AU!Stucky x f!reader) Life had begun to overwhelm her. Work was insane and her life was a mess. There was a tug in her soul that called her to take this trip, deep into the forest away, where there was the peace and stillness of nature. She didn’t know why, but she knew she needed to listen. It was meant to be a relaxing trip, but one misstep on some moss sent her tumbling into the rapids of the flooded river. She thought she was gone and the earth decided it was time to reclaim her. She didn’t expect was to be pulled from the river nor the creature that saved her. Her entire world is turned upside down and all it took was an accidental step to the left. (18+ Only Story)

A/N: Aight, so this is one I’ve been wanting to write for a while but made myself wait until I got a few stories done. Now that’s done, I can write this! It’s gonna get spicier in later chapters, and I’m exccciittteeeed! I hope you all enjoy this new story and the wonders it’s gonna contain! Let me know what you think! Enjoy! ❤

The gifs are not mine, credit to the owner.

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Series Masterlist

This wasn’t a really bright idea.  She knew it. However, that didn’t stop her from packing up her car with a tent, duffle bag filled with essentials and enough food for a week or so in a bear-proof cooler. She needed a break. Things had gotten crazy at work and life was stressing her out to where she was nearing her breaking point. If she didn’t take this vacation, she’d lose her ever-loving mind.

Fortunately, her boss understood and gave her the time off she wanted. The very next day, Y/N packed her car up, let her friends know she was going to be gone without cell reception for a week or so and drove off towards the mountains and forest. There was a campsite she and her family had been to a few times before; they were more outdoorsy than her, but something was calling to her. A little voice inside of her was craving to be surrounded by nature and away from society, tugging her towards the distant mountains. She needed to unplug and unwind. And so far, the little voice hadn’t steered her wrong.

The drive was long, but it helped her being to decompress and leave the stress behind her. The closer she drove, the thicker and taller the trees began to grow. Eventually, she reached the exit her mother wrote on a sticky note. Very quickly Y/N felt a peace wash over her as she took the quiet country road towards her destination.

She checked her location on her phone and noted her service was at one bar and kept dropping, not that she minded. She was about half an hour from the turn into the reserve and still had a few hours left of daylight. Good, she’d be able to pitch the tent and get a quick dinner started before the sun began to set. Maybe she could go for a quick dip in the river nearby. It had a lovely waterfall that flowed from a spring somewhere along the mountain. It was the perfect place for her to unwind.

Half an hour later, a smile spread across Y/N’s face when she spotted the sign and entrance. The ranger at the booth at the reserve's entrance was happy to help point her in the right direction, chatting with her for a moment and explaining how things worked. She was one of the few campers there, and while she might run into one or two if she went out hiking, the campsite she requested was far enough away she didn’t have to worry about seeing people all the time. Just what she wanted. He did, however, warn her that due to a large amount of rain they were getting, the rapids in the river were quite high and fast in the area and to make sure she kept an eye on where she stepped on the soft ground beside it.

Following the directions the ranger gave, Y/N drove further into the reserve and was unable to keep herself from admiring the green around her. Living in the city meant she got very little to none of this. True there were trees here and there, but nothing like this. Parking her car in the marked spot beside the site, Y/N stepped out and took in a deep breath of the clean crisp air. No loud sirens or shouting filled in air, or the smog and dingy stale air from the city. All she heard was the sound of the trees swaying in the breeze and the happy chirps of the many birds in the canopies. The weather was supposed to be sunny and relatively cool, with a slight chance of clouds later in the week. The perfect weather for camping in the perfect setting. Yep, she thought, this was what I needed.

The unpacking took her a little longer than she thought. The tent was new, one of the dome ones big enough to fit six people. Her father bought it on sale, something about it being almost 70% off and he just had to get it. The tent was comically large for Y/N, both in height and width, but she wasn’t going to complain. She didn’t want to go out and spend an inordinate about of money for one camping trip. There’s no telling when the next time she’d get a chance to do this again. Her father was also the one that gifted her with the cooler, which he reminded her to keep in the car locked up tight at night as well as a few lanterns, a swiss army knife, plenty of matches and lighters, a few jugs of water, a camping GPS tracker, and the fishing poles Y/N doubted she’d use. But considering she had no idea what she was going to do while here, Y/N didn’t argue. Her mom wasn’t so sure about this, going out alone into the woods, but Y/N just needed to do it. That tug kept growing inside of her and the only way to make it stop was to answer the call.

The rest of the afternoon went smoothly. After the slight struggle figuring the tent out, Y/N made a quick dinner with her packed food and started getting her things ready for sleep later that night. But first, Y/N wanted to go find the waterfall with the scenic pond that turned fed the river. Going off what the ranger said, Y/N assumed the waterfall would be much larger than the last time she’d been. She had plans to go back in the morning but didn’t want to wander around trying to find it.

So lacing up her hiking boots, she snagged a flashlight in case it got darker sooner than anticipated and followed the little marked trail that led her through the woods. The trail was familiar. She hadn’t been here in a few years, and normally her parents would camp further down the river, but once she found the main trail that followed closely alongside the riverbank, Y/N knew where she was. She paused at the sight of the much higher waters, the usually calm waters roaring with life. The ranger wasn’t joking about the current. It looked like it could drag a person under and downstream before anyone had a chance to blink.

Keeping a close to the trail along the forest, away from the soft edge, Y/N walked against the stream of the river and towards where the waterfall should be. Usually, when she was alone with her thoughts, Y/N would find herself full of anxiety, constantly thinking over everything and anything that could go wrong in her busy life. She hated how her mind fought with itself, constant warring with her about this and that. Trivial meaningless things she’d have little to no control over. Yet right now, with her breathing calm and her footsteps unusually light, there wasn’t a single anxious thought insight. The forest seemed to soothe her as if a spell was cast when she stepped foot on the land.

As she began to turn a corner, Y/N heard the waterfall first. It was roaring, echoing off the mountain beside it and the rocks and trees surrounding it. She felt a little flutter of excitement as she turned the corner and gasped. What was usually gentle and slight, the waterfall was twice its size. It caused a cooling mist to form at the bottom, shrouding the little clearing. Where the water pooled was twice in size as well. She spotted the top of a rock she would usually settle on beside it nearly submerged five feet from where the water line began. Fortunately, there were still plenty of places to sit and read around the area, the waterfall loud but not overly so. It was just enough to keep her thoughts at bay in case they crept back in sometime later in the week.

As she stood there staring in awe about how quickly nature can turn from mellow and serene into an impressively dangerous beast, a strange feeling took over. At first, she couldn’t quite place it. It sort of felt like someone was watching her. Frowning, Y/N turned from the waterfall, eyeing the surrounding forest across the water.

The sun had begun to set, leaving shadows to grow under the trees. With the added combination of the mist, Y/N couldn’t make out the other side very well. But the feeling was still there, growing heavier as whatever it was watched on. It wasn’t angry or even annoyed. No, it didn’t make the hairs on the back of her neck raise. Instead, it was almost curious, watching and waiting to see what she’d do next. It made Y/N want to see who it might be, so she chanced a step towards the water. Her eyes followed the waterline, looking and searching.

A shadow moved out of the corner of her eye. It made her jump, her attention snapping towards the spot. She couldn’t have been certain, but she swore she saw a large shape through the trees. Squinting, Y/N tried to make out what it was. But a bird cried loudly behind her, startlingly loud. It caused her to jerk and jump away from the edge of the water, surprised at how close she had gotten without realizing it. She glared at the smug-looking bird that sat on a low branch staring everywhere but at her and turned back to the shoreline on the opposite side. However, the feeling and whatever ever was there was gone.

Letting out a sigh, Y/N deiced that was enough excitement for the night. She shot once more look over her shoulder before heading back towards the way she came. Shaking the strange feeling off, Y/N decided not to dwell on it. It was the first day, there was no point in worrying about something she may or may not have seen. It was just a trick of the light, she tried to reason. Either that it was another hiker who happened across the same spot as her. Yeah, she thought, that was it.

The forest was a mysterious thing. It had its secrets, both good and bad. More often than not, the visitors that would come through never saw the magic that it was made of. There were a lucky few that would see the enchanting wonders it held, whether they stumbled across it or the magic was brought to them. Then, there were the unlucky ones who could see how unforgiving mother earth could be. The trails could lead her down many different paths. It was up to her to determine which direction she would end up taking and what the Earth had decided.

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Tilda in the fellowship AU

After finishing my Tilda Deep Dive I started thinking about how it would have gone if she did follow her brother to the council of Elrond, and if it would have affected anything. Enjoy

***

So the beginning is simple, when she is offered to go to Rivendell she agrees because yay adventure.

But she goes all princessy, like with a circlet on her head, make-up, some long elven robe all that jazz.

And before the actual council she mostly wanders around trying to make it look like she fits in, before she sees Aragorn where she just squeals and hugs him tight because she’s a hugger.

So at the actual council, the moment the ring is brought forth, she’s just immediately going hell yes I’m doing this, while Legolas is viciously glaring at her because you’re not doing this.

She tries to argue back at him when everyone is arguing with each other, because one, the ring needs to be destroyed and she’s willing to do it and two, it’s a chance to get out of her family shadow.

But alas, a fucking Hobbit offers to do it, and she’s just making the most annoyed face in existence.

Until Aragorn offers to come along, and then Legolas, and Gimli, and she’s just over here like “Yeah I don’t have a unique weapon but if Princess here is going then I am as well.”

And then there’s also three more hobbits, two of which she grows fond of immediately.

When she went to get prepared and to get out of the elven robe, she was basically bouncing with excitement. Legolas tried his best to talk her out of it, but Tilda could be more stubborn than a dwarf if she desired to.

He told her to send a message to their da and ada to ask for permission to do this, She agreed, while in her head she was just saying fuck that, and did not do it.

Tilda had a spring to her step when the journey started, chatting happily with two of the hobbits, watching her brother talk quietly with Aragorn, grinning widely cause she knows what’s up.

It took her about a day, a day and a half, before she stopped walking and started climbing stuff, much to almost everyone’s confusion.

She said that it was to challenge herself and to get a better look at the surrounding terrain, but in reality she just wanted to feel tall as she was the shortest out of the “Tall Folk” as Merry and Pippin so nicely put it.

And it took maybe a week for her to make the connection that the Baggins she was traveling with and protecting was related to the Baggins that changed her and her people’s lives, so that was something.

But Tilda took quite the delight in the fact that both The Hobbits and Gimli had heard many stories of the reclaiming of Erebor, but she had actually been there unlike them.

(Well, if going by film canon then Legolas was there as well, which we are going to do mostly because then the Legolas Tilda first met was the dramatic edgy one with eyeliner, which she would just love to tell the others about).

When it came to Moria, Tilda was a little less smiling and bouncy, and more jumpy and uncomfortable. She’d after all known some of the dwarves whose corpses were scattered across the mine, and she’d never been one for darkness.

It was even worse when they came to Balin’s grave with Ori’s corpse just beside it, as she’d definitely known those two.

Now, before we continue, I just need y’all to know this; Tilda does not like Gandalf. She thinks he’s a bad person, she does not understand the obsession that so many elves have with him, and she thinks he should mind his own damn business. So she was just ready kick his ass when he started yelling at Pippin, like this bitch was ready. But she never got the chance, because they have a cave troll!

Tilda was out of her environment, she was in a too small of a space, and she had to make sure that the pretty incompetent hobbits were alright during the whole thing, so everything that was going through her mind in that fight was just a string of panicked curse words.

Glorofindel had told Tilda about Balrogs once in her youth during a visit to Rivendell, so she kinda knew what was up when a fire demon came out of nowhere, and she was a tiny bit excited.

Mostly because again, she likes fire.

But that does NOT MEAN, that she liked that Gandalf fucking died, because despite the fact that she dislikes him a lot he was honestly one of the few things holding the Fellowship together.

They still managed to keep going for a while, and Tilda managed to befriend Boromir out of all people during that period, and they bonded over their willingness to protect their people, and Tilda loved hearing Boromir talk proudly of his brother (While she talked shit about her own siblings).

At the arrival of Lothlórien, Tilda was just ready to lay down on something soft and take a fucking nap because she earned it god damnit. She did have time to say hi to her Gram Gram Galadriel though, who’s been her favorite babysitter as a child (And adult time some extent) and basically her grandma.

When it came to the little gift giving thingy, she was just happy with a new quiver of arrows, because she’d started to run out. They tried to offer her a new bow, but she’s very attached to her own and ain’t giving it up anytime soon.

While riding the boats, she was dramatically posing at the front the entire time, except for when it got too hot and she just jumped into the water and swam for a while, because when you spend your first years in a place called lake town you basically learn how to swim before you learn how to walk.

If you would ask Tilda what happened next, she would just shrug because she literally has no idea.

All she knew was that Boromir went to collect fire wood and that Frodo wandered off (Which he does like all the time, like Tilda wouldn’t be able to count on her fingers the amount of times someone had to go find him),and then suddenly Orcs attacked, Merry and Pippin were taken and Boromir was bleeding out in front of the remaining four.

And as the sister of the best healer in Middle Earth, Tilda did not hesitate to push Aragorn aside and start screaming out instructions, because this man is not dying on her watch.

It took her a few hours to stabilize the wound, and she had Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn running back and forth, giving her stuff like water and herbs, while she made Boromir talk the entire time just to make sure he wouldn’t pass out and possibly die.

But as soon as Boromir could stand on his feet without falling again, they took off to find Merry and Pippin, while Tilda was praying that Boromir’s wounds wouldn’t open before they got to a real healer.

Tilda was more than okay about running for three days straight, but she did made sure they took a few breaks for the sake of Boromir, and she hated it every time because it made her feel a lot like Sigrid.

Tilda got an uneasy feeling the moment they entered Rohan, especially when they ran into fucking Éomer, who she was just glaring daggers at, and it only got worse when he informed them that he’d fucking slaughtered the hobbits, like both Tilda and Boromir had to be held back.

But the news of their possible survival made Tilda go yay, especially when they got to enter Fangor forest, which was just a delight, and she basically prayed to herself that she would got to meet an Ent.

Instead, she met Gandalf, who’s back now.

She doesn’t really know how to feel about that, because on one hand it’s Gandalf who’s really powerful and is a great deal of help, and on the other hand it’s Gandalf who’s just the fucking worst.

And then he takes them to meet King Théoden, and Tilda just keeps thinking that that day really can’t get any worse.

While Tilda only dislikes Gandalf, she fucking hates Théoden. She met him earlier in her life when he was still young, and he immediately gave her a bad vibe. So Tilda was salty towards him, and he was rude back, and this gal is petty so she still hates him, and his whole family.

Actually scratch that, his niece is both pretty and powerful, she respects her.

As soon as Sauroman is banished from the king’s mind, Tilda drags Bormir to a healer before anything else so his wounds could be properly cared for, just to get that off her mind.

She sent a whistle to Aloe, mostly because she missed him and they weren’t moving around all the time anymore, before joining Legolas and the rest in the throne room with Théoden.

Until the escape to Helm’s deep, Tilda is just kinda vibing. She avoids Théoden the best that she can, she chills with her brother and Gimli, Aloe arrived just barely a day after so that was nice.

It’s mostly when it’s announced that they will escape that she starts to get engaged again, because just call for help for Valars sake it isn’t that hard, stop letting your pride get in your way.

And then Aragorn fucking dies on the way, and Legolas is over there getting depressed while Boromir is having a bit of a panic attack, so everything is just a mess, and she wasn’t okay either because that was her ‘We we’re both raised as humans in an elven society also we like hugs’ buddy.

But she had to be the stable one for once, mostly because she had two people falling apart on her and Gimli was not the best when it came to feelings. Actually, she wasn’t either, so everyone was just stressing out.

Until Aragon arrived not too soon after, in which she first gave him a real fucking punch because how dare you, and then she hugged him because she’s just glad that he’s back.

So is Legolas.

And Èowyn, because she ain’t slick Tilda saw the looks she were giving her, and she laid it all out in front of her because those two had been giving each other “The Look” for all of the sixty years she’d known them, and it was better to just rip the band aid off.

Èowyn took it pretty okay.

Tilda was even more heated with Théoden when they’d arrived, because fucking damnit just call for aid, to you want me to message my ada? He’d surely help!

When Èowyn told her that she was not allowed to fight, she just said fuck that and encouraged her to do it anyways, because males are idiots sometimes.

So she did.

And while Legolas and Gimli had their little competition, Tilda, Èowyn, and Boromir were on the other side of the battle just kicking ass.

The scream of joy that escaped Èowyn’s mouth when she saw her brother almost made Tilda go deaf (That’s what happened if you ask her anyway), while she only smiled a little to herself because enforcements, yay, but by Éomer and Gandalf, fuck no.

After the battle was over, Tilda had a real talk with Aragorn about her brother, because Legolas literally fell apart when he thought that he’d died, and they both nearly died once more, so please just get it on already.

Tilda was really proud of Èowyn when she stood her ground against her uncles anger for participating in the battle, and yes they did fuck when they got back to Rohan.

Tilda had a great time just vibing with a pint of ale and watching the hobbits dance around, but she was pretty much immune to normal human ale at this point after growing up with the The Wine King, and also because she was no lightweight.

And then she fucked Èowyn again.

Until she felt a deep darkness around from somewhere, and she just rushed to get her clothes on to check it out.

What she found was Pippin getting yelled at by Gandalf while Aragorn was quite weakened and had to lean on Legolas for support.

So once again something big happened but Tilda had no idea what it was.

And then suddenly Gandalf was leaving with Pippin for Minas Tirith and Boromir is arguing about him coming with despite Gandalf’s refusal, and Merry was just sad and stuff and once again, Tilda had no idea what was going on.

Except that Gondor was in danger and Théoden refused to help, so yeah she was all about arguing with him because of that, and with arguing I mean she yelled at him for a bit, walked away to cool off before coming back just to start yelling again.

Aloe was basically the only thing keeping her sane because she was really fed up with everyone else, so she just spent a lot of time in the stable with her elk.

The moment that “Gondor called for aid”, Tilda just threw her arms up in the air all “FINALLY”, while also trying to calm Boromir down who was worried about his land and his brother.

She sent Aloe off with a message for her sister, and then rode on a normal horse with a fucking saddle which was uncomfortable as hell.

When they stopped at the mountain pass, Tilda was delighted when Aloe find his way to her, but less delighted when she heard her full name screamed across the camp from a very familiar and annoying voice.

Sigrid yelled at her for almost twenty minutes of how ‘irresponsible it was’, and how ‘She risked her life for the sake of adventure’ and how ‘Da and Thranduil are so worried about you’, which also angers Legolas a bit since she lied to him, and it’s all a mess.

But it’s nice to meet Bain again, whom she introduces to Boromir and Aragorn and the three get talking on sword stuff, she doesn’t really care.

And she gets a chance of talking with Sigrid, and apologizes for worrying her while she apologizes for yelling, and they both are cool.

Overall Tilda has it pretty chill that night, mostly just checking over all of her arrows while humming on a tune, until Legolas notices that Aragorn is packing up his stuff and all four of them are just welp I guess we’re doing this now.

Tilda just hates the feeling of the mountain, and she has an insanely tight grip on the fur of Aloe while just trying to calm the uneasy feeling, while listening to the other’s talking about its history. Still, she can’t help but read out the best climbing routes of the place.

Aloe is the only one of the riding animals that doesn’t run away at the entrance to the path of the dead, which she was rather smug about, and with him by her side she was a bit more comfortable with entering.

She was not alright with the fucking ghosts however, like fuck that what the fuck take me the fuck out of here hell nah bro.

It was fun entering the battle of the Pelennor fields riding her trusted elk surrounded by her friends and an army of spirits, like that was dope.

They were all alright after the battle, Tilda met Pippin again after being away from him for a few days, and Tilda reassured him that Merry would be alright, that she’d seen so much weaker people battle so much worse pain.

She briefly got to meet Boromir’s little brother Faramir that she’d heard so much about, and got to know that their father had tried to burn him alive and were corrently locked in the dungeon, and a pretty angry Tilda had to calm down a down right furious Boromir.

She learned of Théoden’s death, and was pretty satisfied by it, though in private as both Èowyn and Èomer were devestated.

The battle of the black gate is just filled with happy tears and cheers as its over, because the war is over, the ring is destroyed, they had won.

Tilda finds all three of her siblings after it and hug them all tightly, because they all are okay and all made it out, and she was just so gosh darn happy.

When Frodo and Sam are brought to Minas Tirith, bruised, bleeding, and so skinny, Tilda almost cries. Almost. Because such pure creatures should not have to go through what those two did, and she knows that permanent scars will be left of the journey.

Aragorn is crowned king, and Tilda smiled so brightly as she could, proud of what the boy she fell on after jumping on the wrong branch had become.

He finds Legolas in the crowd, and they smile softly at each other before kissing each other, and no one can ignore the shout of “FINALLY” that escaped Tilda’s mouth, because she’d been waiting for that for almost sisxty years god dammnit.

Before leaving Gondor for Mirkwood, she showers the hobbits with as much affection and hugs that she can, because all four of them deserve it.

She says goodbye to the fellowship, to the friends that she would never forget and the people she would visit so often, and leaves on Aloe with Legolas, to return home.

Both Bard and Thranduil are both happy and very angry when she returns, and she argues back boldly against them, because they can’t expect her to stay in Mirkwood after being away for thirteen months.

So instead of sneaking off, she is let go and leaves with Aloe, a bright smile on her face.

She still has nightmares of the journey. Of Boromir dying in her hands, of seeing Merry and Pippin’s burnt bodies in the pile of orc, of Aragorn never returning from the fall and Legolas’ light fading away, of Frodo and Sam being brought back by the eagles, so scarred and broken, an image she never gets out of her head.

She cuts her hair into a single braid going down her back, she gets tattoos dedicated to the fellowship, she finds happiness in travelling peacefully across middle earth.

She gets an invitation to her brother’s wedding, and she arrives in Gondor with the biggest smile on her face, embracing the fellowship.

Tilda gets put in charge of the music of the wedding, and as she plays softly on her lute with her voice calmly echoing throughout the room as Legolas and Aragorn dances, she can’t help but she’d a few tears as she’s been waiting on this for so long and she’s just so happy for them.

It’s a lot less tears and a lot more laughter at Frodo and Sam’s wedding, as hobbits really do know how to party and she’s just having a blast being one of the tallest.

But then the request to kill that god forsaken Forest Dragon comes along, and she just can’t say no.

***

So apparently if Tilda joined the fellowship Boromir would have survived?? 😅

I just thought about this whole thing, and I knew that she would not have someone bleed out when she could’ve done something.

The reason Denethor is alive and not burned is because since Boromir survived, he wouldn’t go full on crazy, and also I want him to face his actions.

This last part just became a bunch of fluff, but my last post was just consisting of mentally torturing this gal, so I wanted to give her a break.

AU Masterpost

[back-and-totheleft]

“I’m not sure I’ve modified my thinking”

“It’s a strange place, England,” Oliver Stone informs me at the start of our Zoom call. “You’ve managed to make it worse than it was,” he says, speaking from his home in Los Angeles. “You’ve turned it into World War Two with your attitudes over there. The English love punishment, it’s part of their make-up.”

You sure know how to break the ice, Mr Stone. It’s a slightly galling accusation, given that he has hitched his wagon to Russia, hardly a paragon of enlightenment. The New York-born writer-director has never shied from ruffling feathers, though. Stone has taken on the American establishment to thrilling effect in his movies, from Platoon to Born on the Fourth of July, JFK to W, Salvador to Snowden, and still emerged with three Oscars. And he has admiringly interviewed a string of figures whose relations with Uncle Sam have rarely been cosy, including Fidel Castro, Hugo Chávez and Vladimir Putin. Those had more mixed receptions, as has his support for Julian Assange.

Yet at 74 he is still a thorn in the side of the military-industrial complex and is set to remain one for some time, having just had his second shot of Covid vaccine. This being Stone, he got his jab in Russia. A recent trial showed the Sputnik V vaccine he was given to have 92 per cent efficacy and he’s palpably delighted. Angry too, of course. “It’s strange how the US ignores that. It’s a strange bias they have against all things Russian,” he says. “I do believe it’s your best vaccine on the market, actually,” he adds, sounding weirdly Trump-like.

If his bullishness is still intact, Stone reveals a more vulnerable side in his recent memoir, Chasing the Light. The book, which he discusses in an online Q&A tonight, goes a long way to explaining his distrust of government, society and, well, pretty much everything. There are visceral accounts of him fighting in Vietnam, and fighting to get Salvador and Platoon made. “The war was lodged away in a compartment, and I made films about it,” he says. “Sometimes I have a dream that I’ve been drafted and sent back there.”

The crucial event in the book, though, is his parents’ divorce when he was 15. Stone realises now that his conservative Jewish-American father and glamorous French mother were ill-suited. Both had affairs. What really stung was the way he was told about their split: over the phone by a family friend while he was at boarding school. “It was very cold, very English,” he says. “I say English because everything about boarding school invokes the old England.” He’s really got it in for us today.

With no siblings, he says, “I had no family after that divorce. It was over. The three of us split up.” His world view stemmed from his parents being in denial about their incompatibility, he writes in the book: “Children like me are born out of that original lie. And nobody can ever be trusted again.”

That disillusionment took a few years to show itself. “All of a sudden, I just had a collapse,” Stone says. He had been admitted to Yale University but his father’s alma mater suddenly felt like part of the problem. He felt suicidal and sidestepped those thoughts by enlisting to fight in Vietnam, putting the choice of him dying into other hands.

The Stone in the book was described by one reviewer as his most sympathetic character. “It’s true probably because it’s a novel,” he says. Well, technically it’s an autobiography, but it’s a telling mistake. Fact and fiction can blur in his work, from the demonisation of Turks in Midnight Express (he wrote the screenplay) to the conspiracy theories in JFK.

Writing the book allowed him to put himself into the story, something he says he’s never been able to do in his films. He has tried. He wrote a screenplay, White Lies, in which a child of divorce repeats his parents’ mistakes, as Stone has. “I had two divorces in my life [from the Lebanese-born Najwa Sarkis and Elizabeth Burkit Cox, who worked as a “spiritual advisor” on his films] and I’m on my third marriage, which I’m very happy in.” He and Sun-jung Jung, who is from South Korea, have been together for more than 25 years. They have a grown-up daughter, Tara, and he has two sons, Sean and Michael, from his marriage to Cox.

White Lies is on ice for now. “It’s hard to get those kinds of things done,” Stone says wearily. Will he make another feature? It’s been documentaries recently, the last two on the Ukraine. “I don’t know. It’s a question of energy. In the old days, there would be a studio you’d have a relationship with, and they’d have to trust you to a certain degree. And that doesn’t exist any more.”

He thinks back to the big beasts of his early years. Alan Parker, who directed Midnight Express; John Daly, who produced Salvador and Platoon; Robert Bolt, who taught him about screenwriting. “Those three Englishmen had a lot to do with my successes,” he says. I think he feels bad about all the limey bashing. “John was a tough cockney, but I liked him a lot.” He liked him more than Parker, whom he describes as “cold” with a “serious chip on his shoulder.” He smiles. “Sure. Alan did a good job with Midnight Express, though.”

You wonder if Netflix could come to Stone’s rescue. They have given generous backing to big-name directors, from David Fincher to Martin Scorsese, Stone’s old tutor at NYU film school. Surely they would welcome him? “Well, that’s why you’re not in charge! Netflix is very engineering driven. Subject matter such as [White Lies] might register low on a demographic.”

Isn’t he also working on a JFK documentary, Destiny Betrayed? That could do better with the Netflix algorithms. “I’m having problems with that too. Americans were so concerned with Trump, I don’t know that they wanted to hear about some of the facts behind the Kennedy killing. They don’t recognise that there’s a connection between 1963 and now, that pretty much all the screws came loose when they did that in ’63.” He smiles. “I know you think I’m nuts.”

Well no, but you do wonder at his unwavering conviction that there was a conspiracy to murder Kennedy, probably involving the CIA. JFK is a big reason why a majority of Americans believe in a conspiracy and, according to Stone, led to the establishment of the Assassination Records Review Board, which he claims is “the only piece of legislation in this country that ever came out of a film.”

Yet several serious studies, including a 1,600-page book, Reclaiming History, by the former prosecutor Vincent Bugliosi, conclude that Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. That book accused Stone of committing a “cultural crime” by distorting facts in JFK. “I feel like I’m in the dock with Bugliosi. I didn’t like his book at all,” Stone says. “Believe me, you cannot walk out of [his forthcoming documentary] and say Oswald did it alone. If you do, I think you’re on mushrooms.”

Stone knows whereof he speaks regarding psychedelics. On returning from Vietnam he was “a little bit radical” in his behaviour, he says: drugs, womanising, hellraising. He recently took LSD for the first time in years. “It was wonderful,” he says. He hallucinated that he was “moving from island to island on a little boat”.

What was radical in the Seventies can be problematic now. He has been accused of inappropriate behaviour by the model Carrie Stevens and the actresses Patricia Arquette and Melissa Gilbert. “As far as I know I never forced anyone to do anything they didn’t want to do,” he says. Has he modified the way he behaves around women? “Oh sure, no question.”

At the same time, he is disturbed by “the scolding going on, the shaming culture. I don’t agree with any of that. It’s like the Chinese Cultural Revolution. It scares the shit out of me. I do think the politically correct point of view will never be mine.”

He’s not a slavish follower of conspiracy theories — QAnon “sounds like nonsense”, he says, as was the theory that Donald Trump was “a Manchurian candidate for the Russians. That was a horrible thing to do and it hurt that presidency a lot. I’m not an admirer of Trump by any means, but he was picked on from day one.”

What does he make of Joe Biden? “I voted for him, not because I liked him, but as an alternative to Trump’s disasters. He’s got a far more merciful humanitarian side. But he also has a history of warmongering.” Fake news, he says, has “always happened”, in the east and west, on the left and the right. “I mean, back in the Cold War, the US was saying Russia was lying and Russia was saying the US was lying. Each one of these wars the US has been involved in was based on lies.”

It sounds as if Stone has been on the Russian Kool-Aid himself. He is making a documentary, A Bright Future, about climate change that advocates pursuing nuclear power in the short term, and has visited some Russian nuclear plants. They are “very state-of-the-art,” he says. “The US is not really pursuing the big plants, the way Russia and China are. I believe in renewables, but they’re not going to be able to handle the capacity when India and Africa and all these countries come online wanting electricity.”

Putin liked the interviews Stone did with him in 2017, he says. “I think they contributed to his election numbers.” Wasn’t he too easy on the Russian leader? “That’s what some say. But I got his ire up. I did ask him some tough questions about succession. ‘I think you should leave’ — that kind of stuff. The pressure that Russia is under from both England and the US is enormous,” he adds. “Unless you’re there I don’t know that you understand that. Because you take the English point of view, and they have been very anti-Soviet since 1920. You talk about fake news — I feel that way about MI5 and MI6.”

You can’t help but admire Stone’s conviction. If he’s modified his behaviour that’s probably a good thing, but as he says, “I’m not so sure I’ve modified my thinking. I express myself freely. I don’t want to feel muzzled.” Whatever you think of him, be grateful he hasn’t been.

-Ed Potton, “You talk about fake news. I feel that way about MI5 and MI6,” The Times of London, Feb 8 2021 [x]