Dunno how to put it properly into words but lately I find myself thinking more about that particular innocence of fairy tales, for lack of better word. Where a traveller in the middle of a field comes across an old woman with a scythe who is very clearly Death, but he treats her as any other auntie from the village. Or meeting a strange green-skinned man by the lake and sharing your loaf of bread with him when he asks because even though he's clearly not human, your mother's last words before you left home were to be kind to everyone. Where the old man in the forest rewards you for your help with nothing but a dove feather, and when you accept even such a seemingly useless reward with gratitude, on your way home you learn that it's turned to solid gold. Where supernatural beings never harm a person directly and every action against humans is a test of character, and every supernatural punishment is the result of a person bringing on their own demise through their own actions they could have avoided had they changed their ways. Where the hero wins for no other reason than that they were a good person. I don't have the braincells to describe this better right now but I wish modern fairy tales did this more instead of trying to be fantasy action movies.
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simon telling the guys he's got a girl to go home to post op and johnny's gobsmacked because him??
his simon? with a sweet thing?? that isn't repelled by his very existence??? he's gotta meet you! (he's also mildly upset that the rest of them are single. or is it jealousy that the man he's gotten himself off to is finally taken?)
it takes a little (a lot) of cajoling to at least show johnny a picture and when simon hands him his cracked phone, johnny whistles low and murmurs out a pretty lass.
and you do look pretty. you look pretty from the side as you're washing dishes, even with the gaudy yellow gloves covering up to your elbows. you're so pretty from the back as you're bent over, carefully basting the chicken you're baking. you even look pretty fuzzy, the camera blurring your features while zoomed in.
there's even a video of you but johnny doesn't overstep. he knows better. he waits for simon's go ahead, and once he gives the almost imperceptible nod, johnny quickly presses play.
the room is dim, the television casting a soft glow upon your face. your legs are folded beneath you, your gaze fixed on whatever it is you're watching, your hand reaching for the bowl of popcorn on the nightstand.
"ken wha' she's watchin'?"
"i dunno, but she's been into nature documentaries as of late."
johnny hums softly and the video comes to an end.
"yer a lucky man, LT."
simon doesn't say anything.
(and neither does johnny. not about the grilles of the window in every picture nor the quiet chirping of crickets and even quieter crunching of leaves in the video.)
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my dad saw ao3 open on my computer and asked if that was like my writing club and just so you know that's what fanfic writers are now, we're all in the same writing club where we all write about the same media and show each other our little stories and that's kind of cool actually
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one of my favorite things ever is eddie explaining the intricate inner workings of buck to other people because he knows him - and everyone expects him to. extremely married behavior.
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It's truly wild to me how many people out there don't understand that the Star Wars prequels are a tragedy or how tragedies work.
Posts like "these are the Jedi failed movies" truly just make me shake my head. They're actually the "fascism wears a smile until it strikes you down and then it's too late" movies. They're the "the senate became corrupt and clapped in the face of genocide" movies. They're the "make people scared enough of war until they accept authoritarianism" movies. They're the "fear and possessiveness will tear you up on the inside" movies. The Jedi were the heroes of lore, people loved and looked up to them, looked to them for safety, and then too much got put on their shoulders on purpose by Palpatine, and also by a senate that didn't want to act (not you Padme and Bail and Mon, you're perfect). They were drafted and used and scapegoated, which is, you know, a tenet of the vast majority of authoritarian governments (Hitler and Stalin, for instance, might be on different ends of the political spectrum, but they sure both did scapegoat specific groups and commit mass murder, just differently).
When some people say "these movies are about the fall of the Jedi" what they mean is "the Jedi failed" but that's not what "the fall of the Jedi means." It means they were wiped the fuck OUT. Like, Jesus, in Rogue One Tarkin is talking about burning out the final MEMORY of the Jedi by blowing up the holy city in Jedha. Palpatine had to get rid of the Jedi because to get rid of the Jedi was to get rid of the final people standing in his way after he had already worn them out. His intention was not only to kill them, but to alter the galaxy's entire perception of them. To rip away hope. People are always looking for the Jedi to be Bad or nitpick their mistakes (because while other people are allowed to make mistakes, the Jedi never are). Palpatine made himself look like a benevolent grandpa who would keep everyone safe. And that, more than anything, is what gave him SO much power. He stole the narrative.
It's just like. Of course WE know what was going to happen! We know from watching the OT that the PT can only end in tragedy. But the characters don't know that! They don't have all the info! That's how a tragic story structure works. We see it coming and they can't.
Anyway. The Jedi are laser-sword wielding monks with psychic powers who just wanted to do what they could to help. The world would be better if more folks remembered that.
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Several weeks ago one of my coworkers called me over into her cubicle and gave me a very unexpected gift. Her mother passed away recently, and she'd been packing stuff up at her condo to give to relatives and sell, so the home could be sold. The mother was an avid knitter and crocheter, and when my coworker came upon her stash of equipment, she told me, she "immediately thought of me as someone who might get some use out of it."
So, I have inherited a varied collection of knitting needles and crochet hooks, cable needles, sewing needles, and, best of all, now-out-of-print pattern books, mostly for blankets, because that was what this lady loved to make most. Plus, I also have a bunch of gauge swatches she made, pinned to little bits of card covered in perfect schoolteacher handwriting setting out the patterns they were made to test.
And also...
My coworker brought another bag, full of yarn and...knitted blanket squares.
Her mother's last started project, before she got too sick to continue.
And she asked if there was anything I could do with it.
It turned out, there are twelve completed squares, and I quickly located the pattern book they are from amid those given to me. It's a book of 60 patterns, meant to be put together however the maker wishes into blankets of 20 squares. I figured out which of the numbered patterns were already made, and selected eight more that I thought might go well with them.
So now!
I am working on completing!
My coworker's mother's last knitting project!
And I really am feeling very good about doing it.
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