#like. there is no guarantee that -you- (the person reading this) exists in any single fictional reality. you're just some guy.

[asurrogateblog]

(grabbing you by the shoulders) no but do you understand? do you understand what I mean when I say that fame does NOT give you immortality, it makes you MORE mortal. if you do something that has a big enough effect on the world around you (like, idk, creating some of the most historically influential music ever made), now that event is not only fixed in this reality's timeline, but also in the timeline of every single fictional reality taking place on earth past the date of that event. your non-existence would now cause much larger butterfly effects than it would for the average person, so for those other 'realistic' fiction realities to still make sense, everything that happened to you leading up to that moment has to have happened in some way. and by that same logic, if you die, you die in more than just this universe. you have to die in all of the others too. so you are more dead than other people, not less

[so-i-did-this-thing]

How it's going as a trans person in Florida: Planned Parenthood, 26Health, and Spektrum Health have announced they have paused all gender affirming care.

To recap, DeSantis signed several anti-trans bills into law this week. Care is banned for minors, care is all but banned for adults, Don't Say Gay has been extended, children can be kidnapped from affirming parents by non-affirming family, and there is a bathroom bill that subjects trans folks to arrest for using government owned facilities, such as those in courthouses, airports, many stadiums and parks.

The adult effective ban was felt immediately. The main elements are:

signing at every visit an in-person informed consent form created by the state

all care come from physicians instead of nurse practitioners

no telemed for gender-affirming care

Currently, it is unknown if existing HRT prescriptions written by NPs will be honored by pharmacies. I personally know one person who was able to pick up testosterone yesterday, but I have also read many reports of folks being denied. I myself don't have a refill ready for another 10 days and will report back after I try my own pickup.

What's additionally dangerous is those of us, myself included, who get non-HRT prescriptions from our gender clinics now face the uncertainty of continuing of *all* of our medical care. Our health clinics are at risk of shuttering permanently as they lose major income, and many of us will lose STD meds, depression meds, heart meds, etc, etc.

When we say "this will kill us," it goes beyond suicide risk from forced detransition.

"But you can still get HRT from a physician."

So many suck or are outright hostile and the demand outstrips the supply. Before I found my NP-run clinic, one physician just decided to not call in my Rx, another was so shit at reading lab results, he thought I had hepatitis, and the third I had to threaten to kick in the teeth for trying to force too large a speculum in me.

Also, the state-required consent form has not been finalized and distributed yet, so at this point, everything has pretty much ground to a halt.

It was estimated that 80% of trans adults would lose their healthcare because of how many use providers like Planned Parenthood, but the impact seems even greater now.

"You can get your non-gender care elsewhere still."

DeSantis recently signed a bill that allows healthcare professionals to discriminate against trans people.

Sure, we can try to find care elsewhere, but it will be a slow and expensive process, with no guarantees. It took me over 20 years to get my heart condition treated because of transphobic doctors.

What can I do as a trans Floridian?

Stay in communication with your clinic - many are working on getting physicians added to the roster to prescribe HRT. Lawsuits are being filed and it's possible the changes to adult care can be rolled back.

Continue to try to pick up your meds, but begin looking for care elsewhere, though. Inside and outside the state.

Remember that while telemed for gender affirming care has been banned, you can still cross state lines for care. See Erin's map of informed consent clinics.

Many people will turn to DIY, but be sure you are aware of the risks here, especially if on testosterone, which is a controlled substance.

What should I be worried about next as a trans Floridian?

I worry about the following next steps towards genocide:

Banning getting care out of state. This is from the anti-abortion playbook. They will likely start with kids again, but we've seen how quickly adult care gets axed.

Being declared mentally incompetent or a risk in some way. This could be anything from being barred from gun ownership to not being allowed to work for the government.

Being declared a de facto predator. This has already happened with the latest bathroom law (cis people can eject trans people from government owned single-gender facilities, with arrest as a penalty), so watch out for it being applied to privately-owned facilities. Watch for discussions of official lists of trans people.

Gender presentation enforcement laws, essentially banning "cross dressing". Laws that block or rollback documentation changes.

These all have historic precedence and are huge "I'm in danger" red flags.

What can I do as a cis person?

Amplify all this news. Talk frankly about how this is genocide. And donate what you can to trans mutual aid campaigns so people can travel to get healthcare or even leave the state.

Here's some articles to get started on building awareness:

Take care, everyone, of yourself and each other.

[crucialplayer]

Thoughts on Mars placements 

!! everything is based purely on my experiences with signs, written with no other purpose than to share my observations and be unserious.

Aries mars. Practical jokes lovers, gentle touch haters. Hit u while laughing. Love the banter, sometimes a lil too much. Go for it (whatever it is) fiercely and without a single backthought. Explosive in conflict, but in a sense of crying screaming throwing up banging against the wall. 

Taurus mars. Life could be on Mars but they still be going on and on about that one thing. Sudden outbursts of anger. It might seem out of the blue but they’ve probably been brooding some hurt for a long time. They just hoped it’d go away… naturally. Also surprisingly horny. 

Gemini mars. Mind fuckers. That one guy defending polygamy «as a concept» rather too enthusiastically. Can talk their way out of hell with one leg already in the hottest boiling cauldron. I suppose it’s a placement most people will find charming at some point (says a lot about society…). 

Cancer mars. Rumors are true, the sky is blue, and they are manipulative. Watching anybody else display vulnerability is the same as watching a children’s play to them. Ur rawest and most disturbing moment? To a cancer mars its a chill Tuesday morning. Humanization of a silent treatment. 

Leo mars. You’d gather that its serious by the sheer scale of their reaction but I promise its not. 9 times out of 10 will cause a huge scene and won't be able to remember it 2 days after. Very defensive. Won't put themselves out there if they’re not guaranteed a 10-minute standing ovation. 

Virgo mars. They believe that they make sense but usually they don't. They’re calculating but it’s like they do it backwards resulting in some of the most unhinged decisions made. Want to be praised for… um… existing as they are. Kind of a menace in conflict. 

Libra mars. If u think it's hard for you to wait for them to make up their mind imagine how they feel. It’s similar to watching a plant move without a time-lapse. Cry when they’re angry. Go with the flow not because they’re chill but more cause it's easier for them. 

Scorpio mars. They ARE vengeance and I'm scared. Slash 3 tires after one fight mars. Not the person you’d try to make jokingly jealous. For further information read the lyrics to… really any Taylor Swift song. 

Sagittarius mars. Don't think before they do and think after they’ve done smth only if u make them. The kind of people that will try everything once just to know how it feels (and then present that to everyone as if they’ve found god by bungee jumping one time). Very easy to dare. Also are always checking someone out. 

Capricorn mars. Blood is cold, the heart is beating twice per minute. ISN’T IT lonely on top of the world fellas??? If u get them to like u your love language better not be words of affirmation. Instead of arguing chances are high they disappear for a while or just go into a rock regime. 

Aquarius mars. Are only attracted to intellectuals so naturally in a room full of sweet gentle people will go for the most narcissistic motherfucker out there. They’re sorta very patient but I feel maybe it's just them dissociating… Ponder a lot before making a move. 

Pisces mars. I'm afraid no one knows whats going on there. It's like they’re never actually present. Therefore often times can have a delayed reaction to smth, which people might read as passive aggression. Very sentimental, will write u a song or a poem on a second date. Also low LOW energy. 

[fairuzfan]

I have concern that I may still be technically zionist despite claiming to be pro-palestine. This is because I knew very little about Palestine when October 7th happened, so in the time since I have been reluctant to have a stance on a two-state or one-Palestinian-state solution. I know now that almost all of Isreal is stolen land and recognize Isreal only exists due to colonialism, it took me a long time to learn that but I know it now. Before I knew that, I knew that regardless of the prior history that in current day Palestine is being subjected to a genocide. However, I struggle with politics and therefore struggle with understanding how a one-Palestinian-state could be achieved and have concern about what would happen to any genuinely innocent people who live in Isreal. To be clear, Isreal as a whole is guilty and I just have concern about what will happen to the portion of people in Isreal who are just as horrified as the rest of the world at what their government is doing. I do not personally know any Palestinians, so I have not known who to talk to about this especially since I do not want to overstep in any way. Theres more context I could provide but I wont because this is roughly the gist of where I am currently at when it comes to my concerns about whether or not I am still zionist. Do you have any reccomendations as to what I can do about my concerns? I am not sure whether or not I am overstepping right now by asking you this, but I do not know any other Palestians on a personal level that I can go to.

hey thanks for sending this in. i think we all have zionist biases that we have to unlearn, even i catch myself falling for it sometimes. so it's not necessarily a moral failing if you're trying to undo the zionism you've been taught. thanks for trying to undo it!

i do want to correct you a bit thought, in that *all* of israel is stolen land because israel is a settler colonial society. until it is relabeled as "Palestine" it can't not be stolen land.

I guess my advice is that you read scholarship and perspectives on palestinian thought and heritage. i can't tell you what a free palestine will look like but i can tell you what i imagine it to be. but what i can tell you is that the state of israel is fully intent on erasing all traces of palestinian life no matter what.

i guess i can tell you why "two state solutions" don't really work because there is no.... prevention of settlement building in the west bank and they'll never really promote *not* settling in the west bank. like i really cannot imagine a world where there aren't settlers on palestinian land no matter the case. and that's even not allowing palestinians the right of return to their homes and expecting them to give up what they dedicated their lives to. many palestinians in the west bank and gaza are themselves refugees because they were displaced in '48. so no matter what, palestinians will always get the short end of the stick and told to "just deal with it."

plus, why are we concerned with the supposed future danger towards israelis when the current, very real danger towards palestinians exists? shouldn't we prioritize actual events over hypothetical ones? why should we concern ourselves with the future when for palestinians its not a guarantee? i have no idea what's going to happen to gaza, for example.... shouldn't we prioritize that gaza lives on today?

i think i would question why you think israelis are inherently in danger in a one state solution? like do you assume that palestinians will all universally commit violence on all israelis? is it because you believe that hamas wants to kill every single israeli jew no matter what? if so, i think that's where your problem lies — in the assumption that peace can only be achieved through segregation just in a lighter form (because the state of israel relies on segregation as a principal of its existence as a jewish state). what about the palestinians who fear living side by side with the same people who raped, tortured, and murdered them for 75 years, or advocated for their deaths? aren't they inherently in more danger?

i mean palestinians have consistently been painted as the villains for more than 75 years. like in every aspect. i think to really truly be antizionist you need to prioritize palestinian concerns and worries over israeli ones because of how.... unwilling much of the world is to even consider them.

approaching zionism from an idea of an inequality structure is also necessary — rather than assuming its a one off system, we examine it as a perpetuation of multiple types of systems of inequality embedded into one. i recommend the institute for the critical study of zionism (click) for more information on this. There's also this book by Ismail Zayid written in the 80's (click) about the longtime violence the ideology of zionism has done to multiple communities, not just palestinians.

Here's a great reading list by palipunk about different aspects of palestinian thought and culture (click). i suggest looking through them to help decolonize our way of thought.

i might add on to this later if i think of something else to say.

[sadhours]

simmer down

billy hargrove x f!reader

masterlist • requests are open! • read on ao3

summary: being tommy hagan’s sister had it’s perks, but when the new kid from California catches your attention, it seems like more of a curse than a good thing

warnings: 18+ minors dni, Steve x Reader, underage drinking, partying, smut, p in v, angst, Billy is a mystery, Steve/Nancy, slow burn, forbidden romance

Being Tommy Hagan’s sister had its advantages. Your freshman year of high school, you had a guaranteed spot with the cool kids and an invite to every party. Tommy wasn’t protective by any means. You two were buddies, you and Carol were buddies and of course, you and Steve Harrington were buddies. Freshman year was a blur, until Nancy ripped Steve away from the group. Still, the three of you were determined to keep the good times rolling. Sure, you spent every single Saturday, Sunday and Monday hungover but it was worth it. You think.

Maybe you didn’t remember the parties very well but hell, you knew you’d had fun. Plus, you were lucky enough to lose your virginity to the King on your fifteenth birthday and even if he pretended you didn’t exist once he started dating Nancy, it was worth it. Okay, so you weren’t totally over Steve but you were coping just fine. Carol didn’t let you mope for long. There were too many parties to go to.

Then one day, Steve Harrington is pushed to the very back door of your mind. Perched on your brother’s car, sharing a cigarette with him and his girlfriend, a pretty blue Camaro whips through the parking lot and slides into the parking spot across from you. A small, angry redhead bolts out, slamming the door and zips up to the middle school on a skateboard. Every head in the parking lot is turned to the muscle car and the gorgeous, denim-clad, mulleted blonde motherfucker. He takes your breath away. Takes Tommy and Carol’s breath away. The guys dripping in cool. Not another person like him has stepped foot in this midwestern hell hole. The three of you can’t wait to sink your claws in him. He flicks his cigarette away, a small hint of a smirk curling his lips and your eyes follow the Marlboro as it tumbles to the ground. The fucking guy didn’t even smoke half of it. The nicotine fiend in you is tempted to snatch it up, but that’s like, super uncool.

You watch as Tina and her girls eyes linger on the stranger, practically salivating at the way his ass looks in his jeans. It must take at least ten minutes for the fucker to pull his pants up.

“Who the hell is that?” Carol wonders aloud for the group.

“One bitchin’ dude,” Tommy scoffs, an impressed tilt to his voice.

;;;

Tommy moves fast. You know this. He had an easy way about him, friendly even though he was the biggest asshole you knew. That blue Camaro is parked on the curb in front of your house. Your parents are outside, doing the yard work necessary to prepare for the cold front sweeping in. Your whole life was spent in Hawkins so you know nothing else but god, do you yearn for year long summers.

You were eager to listen to the new record you’d just bought. A quick wave to your parents and you’re opening the front door, flooded with the sound of Metallica’s The Four Horsemen. Tommy’s pulled out his only metal album to impress the new kid. The feeling in your gut isn’t new. You used to get the same excited feeling whenever Steve was over. However, this was different because Steve knew you. He watched you grow up. You’d known him since you were little. This new guy hasn’t played Barbie’s with you from the age eight to twelve.

You take a deep breath before heading towards Tommy’s room, leaning against the doorframe. Tommy’s head banging obnoxiously, Carol is checking her nails looking bored and the blonde boy is nodding his head along to the bass line. He’s got a cigarette pinched to between his fingers and as he’s bringing the filter to his lips, he sees you.

He takes a drag, smirks and says, “Hey.”

You’ve never loved your brothers ability to make friends more.

“Hi,” you try to say in the coolest way you can.

Tommy pauses his thrashing and motions to you, “Oh, Billy! This is my sister.”

“Nice to meet you, Tommy’s sister,” he drawls.

You tell him your name, awkwardly lingering in the doorway before Carol’s tugging you inside.

“Whatcha got in the bag?” Billy asks, fingers pressing to the brown paper.

You swallow, “Uh, just a record.”

“Which one?”

You pull out the cellophane wrapped vinyl, displaying the copy of Out of the Cellar by Ratt you’d just excitedly purchased with your allowance.

“Oh, fuck yeah! Atta girl,” he cheers as he snatches it out of your hand.

The praise causes a flutter downstairs. Five minutes into meeting this fucking guy and you’re already a puddle. The excitement at impressing him is unmatched.

Billy shimmies around you, places a strong hand on your hip as he passes to stop the Metallica record and replace it with your new one. You plop down on the floor next to Carol, eyes drawing back up to Billy as he turns the volume up, cigarette hanging between his lips. He bobs his head, his earring dangling against his wispy curls and you don’t like feeling this arousal while in the same room as your brother and his girlfriend.

“Did you see Steve with the princess today? Ugh, gag me with a spoon,” Carol nudges your knee while mimics gagging herself.

Billy snorts, “What’s the deal with that guy? People kept telling me I was gonna be the new King, whatever the fuck that means.”

Tommy chimes in, “He used to be the King. We were good buddies until he started sticking his dick in the priss.”

“Steve’s nice,” you shrug. Only Carol knows what happened between the two of you and you’d sworn her to secrecy, too embarrassed to let your brother know you’d fallen for his best friend. She gives you a pointed look before rolling her eyes.

“He used to be cool, now he’s nice,” Tommy deflects, wiggling his fingers for emphasis. He pulls a beer of the sixer and tosses it to you, which you fumble to catch.

You tap your nail on the tap, trying your best to rid the memories of Steve kissing you late at night from your head. You know if you glance over to Billy, they’ll dissipate but then you’ll be imagining kissing him and you don’t want that either.

“So where’d you move from?” you ask, not looking up from the beer.

Billy sits next to you with the thud, his knee knocking yours which absolutely does not shoot heat to between your legs. He lifts his can to you, indicating he’d like to cheers you. Sometimes Tommy’s friends did things like this with you and while he wasn’t protective of you, he made you promise that friends were out of the question. You could not hook up with any of them. Acquaintances were fine and while Billy was only that right now, you know Tommy wanted to be good buddies with him so you were awaiting the conversation. You were getting ahead of yourself. A cheers does not mean Billy’s attracted to you.

“California,” he replies as you clink aluminum cans. “Much better than this shithole.”

“You’re telling me,” Carol whines, “I fucking hate this place.”

Billy drops his cigarette in the empty beer can sitting in the middle of the floor, apparently the designated ashtray. He leans his head back to look at you, “What’s there to do here?”

You feel shy under his gaze, almost choking on your swig of beer once your eyes meet his. You clear your throat and swallow hard, “Uh, parties, mostly. Hang out in the woods. Go to convenience stores.”

“Ah. I expected more hick shit. Ya know, tipping cows, shooting guns, kissing cousins,” Billy chuckles, biting his lip as his eyes dart between your brother and his girlfriend.

“Carol knows about kissing cousins,” Tommy sneers, throwing his girlfriend under the bus.

“Do you have to tell everyone?” she hurls a rolled up sock at him. She turns to Billy, “He’s exaggerating. We’re not even blood related.”

Billy laughs, a cackle that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You can’t help but giggle. You’d heard the story a million times. Carol was at a family reunion and didn’t even realize the guy was a distant cousin. However, shit, it’s a family reunion. Who’s trying to get their rocks off at a family reunion?

“You guys smoke grass?” Billy changes the subject and the three of you nod in unison. “Know where I can get some?”

“Eddie “The Freak” Munson,” Tommy tells him, “I think I have some, though. Hold you over in the meantime.” He gets up and sifts through his sock drawer, returning with a tied off ziploc bag to hand to Billy.

“And now,” Billy takes it and shoves it in his pocket, “We’re best buds.”

Tommy beams at the declaration. And with those words, Billy Hargrove has just become verboten. Damn it.

Tommy tells you as much when Billy leaves, rattling off about his dad being an asshole and he’s got to get home before he does.

“I saw those eyes,” Tommy raises a scolding finger at you, “Don’t even try it. He’s too cool.”

“Aw, Tommy,” Carol pouts, “Let her have some fun.”

“No,” you raise your hands defensively, “You didn’t see any eyes. I don’t even think he’s cute.”

Tommy scoffs, “Yeah, right. Even I think the guy is hot.”

Carol raises an eyebrow, “You going queer on me, big boy?”

“Me? Queer?” Tommy laughs, “Let me show you how untrue that is.”

“Okay, ew, I’m leaving,” you push yourself off the ground and run out of the room, closing the door behind you.

;;;

“Does Tina throw bitchin’ parties?” Billy asks you, taking a drag off his cigarette before passing it.

You take it and try to ignore the tingling feeling on your lips as you take a hit. You’re leaning against the trunk of his Camaro, Carol and Tommy are nearby but too busy making out to listen to the conversation.

“I guess?” you reply, “All the parties here kind of bleed together. They’re fun and all, just… the same thing.”

Billy looks over to your brother with his tongue down Carol’s throat, “They do that all the time, huh?”

“Yeah, you’ll get used to it,” you shrug.

“What about you?” he turns slightly towards you, “Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”

You can feel the way your cheeks redden, “I don’t know. No one’s really caught my attention, I guess.”

“Is he protective?”

You shake your head, “No, the opposite. Tommy doesn’t give a shit what I do. I just haven’t met anyone I like in that way.”

“Yeah,” Billy muses, “I know the feeling.”

That catches your attention. Every girl at Hawkin’s High is throwing themselves at him but not a single one special enough to tickle his fancy. You included.

“I’m young, anyways,” you deflect, “I have plenty of time to find the man of my dreams.”

“Oh, yeah?” Billy digs his canine into his lower lip, “What’s the motherfucker you’ve dreamed up like?”

You, you don’t say. “Oh, I don’t know!”

“You’ve thought about it. Is he nice, like King Steve?” Billy raises his eyebrows, “Is he a freak like Munson?”

No, he’s blonde with a mullet and pretty eyelashes.

“He hasn’t made himself known yet,” you urge, “Maybe he’s a millionaire, maybe he’s a rockstar.”

“You want Vince Neil?” he knocks he elbow into yours.

“I wouldn’t mind,” you shrug.

Billy cackles, “All you chicks are the same.”

You scoff, “Oh and guys aren’t? Like you’re not pining over Lita Ford.”

“Nah,” he laughs, “Not my thing.”

“What is your thing then?” you ask, eyes meeting briefly before you can’t handle the heat of them. Billy’s eyes are too pretty. The bluest you’ve ever seen.

“Someone real,” he says, sincerely and it tugs your heartstrings.

“Billy, the romantic,” you tease, shoving your hands in your pocket.

“Far from it, sweetheart,” he pats your shoulder before pushing himself off the bumper and heading into the building as the bell rings.

Sweetheart drips down your throat and curls around your heart.

;;;

It’s not much of a costume. It’s a short skirt, fishnets and a too tight top. You can say you’re Madonna but how many girls are going as Madonna. You just want to look hot. Want Billy to look at you like you’re more than Tommy’s little sister. Like you’re some video vixen and he just cannot keep his hands to himself. It’s a flourishing thought that you push deep down. Tommy can’t control you but you think of the conversation you’d hand the day before. Billy isn’t into you. He had the opportunity to say something and he didn’t. And one thing you’ve learned about boys your age is if they want it, they’ll make it known.

“Are you ready yet?” Carol’s asking as she peers into your bedroom. You scan her outfit up and down, you think maybe she’s channeling Madonna as well but you can’t pin exactly what she’s dressed as.

You wipe the corner of your mouth, fixing the smeared lipstick.

“Yeah, just about,” you mumble, reapplying your mascara.

“Billy’s meeting us there,” she sings, grinning wide at you in the mirror.

You roll your eyes, “Carol, he’s off limits and even if he wasn’t, I don’t like Billy like that.”

“Sure,” she purrs, slapping the doorframe, “Vamoose, pretty girl. I wanna get wasted.”

Tommy’s a bad driver. He was also drinking before he left so he’s even worse, by the time you get to the party you feel like you’ve already got the spins. You hold onto Carol’s wrist to ground yourself and Billy’s rushing up behind the two of you.

“Boo!” he shouts, pressing a hand to your lower back.

Carol shrieks but you’d seen him coming. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling the two of you two his chest. He reeks of whiskey and Marlboro Reds. Seems like Billy had a bit of pregaming himself.

“Hi, Billy,” the two of you sing in unison.

Tommy barrels around the car, running up from behind to jump onto Billy’s back which causes all of you to tumble to the ground. Carol screams, scolding Tommy about ruining her hair but you’re distracted by the laugh erupting from Billy, his lips so close to your ear you can feel his breath fanning against it. It makes you tingle all over and you desperately want to grab him and pull him closer, want to press your lips to his in a hungry kiss. Then it’s gone, he’s up from the ground with Tommy pulling him towards the keg and Carol’s reaching her hand down to you.

You stumble along with her and when you’re reaching the keg, Billy’s pumping it and filling cups for you and Carol.

“You’ve got to beat Steve’s record, Billy! Come on,” Tommy urges his friend, hands clasped tight around his shoulders.

You stand over by Carol and Tina, watching the way the brunette fucks Billy with her eyes. A pang of jealousy surges through your stomach but you chug from the red Solo cup to drown it out. You sway along with the Motley Crüe song, unable to stop your eyes from scanning the crowd for familiar chestnut hair and brown eyes. Carol must notice because she grabs your face and turns it to look at Billy. She wants you to get over Steve just as badly as you do. You notice Billy’s costume, you think he’s going for terminator but it’s laid back. An homage rather than a costume. His abs look nice, you imagine what they must feel like. Carol’s a good friend.

They lift Billy up, he bites around the tap and makes eye contact you for a brief second before beer is flooding into your mouth. He easily beats Steve’s record. Seems like he could’ve gone longer but the second he beats it, they’re pulling him down. He spits the foam out, beer dripping down his chin to his chest and it’s… a sight. They funnel inside but you stick by Carol.

“God, he’s so yummy,” Tina gushes, turning to you and Carol.

Carol agrees excitedly, winks at you and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Tina.

“What? Did you call dibs already?”

“God, no,” you say, a little too defensively. “I just have eyes and Carol wants to live vicariously through me. It’s not happening.”

“Well, I’m definitely not holding back,” Tina quips.

You imagine the two of you as cats, tails high and backs arched, ready to pounce.

“Go for it,” you shrug, holding your beer close to your chest.

You retreat first, heading inside in search of a better time. A spiked punch is in your future. It’s only slightly dampened when you see Nancy downing cup after cup in the kitchen, Steve upset and asking her to cool it. He doesn’t even notice your presence and that’s totally fine. You’re a fly on the wall like you usually are around him. Steve reaches for her cup again and they struggle for power until the force of their hands pulls the cup back and spills the sticky red punch all over her white sweater. Everyone reacts in shock and you have to still your mouth from the smile threatening against your lips as you quickly avert your attention.

When they flutter away, you copy Nancy. Downing as many cups as you can before you start to feel numb. Seeing Steve was a shock to your system. All prior feelings rush to the forefront of your brain and you want to find him, pull him into a empty bedroom and kiss him from head to toe. It’s a shame when you see him and Nancy lock themselves away in a bathroom. You linger, clutching your drink to your chest as you watch drunk teenagers dance the night away. Nancy doesn’t deserve Steve. He shouldn’t have to change to be with her. You liked Steve the way he was.

Steve opens the door and slams it behind him, he pushes passed out, shoulders colliding and when he turns to look at you, you notice tears in his eyes. The brunette is quick to swivel back around, stomping outside and you wonder what in the hell just happened in there. Half of you is tempted to follow him outside, offer comfort in whatever way you can but then you feel large, strong hands wrap around your waist. You tilt your head back to see Billy standing behind you with a drunk smile plastered on his face, his eyes are tinted red like he’s been smoking more than cigarettes.

He leans down, lips close to your ear so he can whisper, “Why are you hiding from us?”

“Hiding? I’m not hiding,” you argue, lifting your cup to explain further, “Where is everyone?”

“Backyard,” he smirks, releasing his grip and stumbling towards the sliding glass door.

He turns his head briefly to make sure you’re following him.

Tina’s backyard is trashed. You can’t imagine what the cleanup is going to be like tomorrow. As soon as you step out the door, Billy grabs your hips again and urges you to the left. You look down and see what looks like five smashed beer bottles, right outside the door. You mumble a thank you before wiggling out of his grip. The last thing you need is for Tommy to see it. The blonde guides you over to the group and you collapse down next to your brother and Carol.

“Steve and Nancy just got in a fight,” you tell them before bringing your cup to your lips.

Carol raises her eyebrows and leans closer, giving you a look you know all too well. You quickly shake your head, slouching your shoulders and trying to sink away from her gaze. Tommy lets out a cackle, leaning his body back with it.

“We heard, he threw punch on her?”

“Well, no, he didn’t throw it on her, it just spilled,” you explain, watching in your peripheral how Tina leans her body against Billy’s and whispers in his ear. Immediately, your stomach turns but you ignore it. There’s no way you could be jealous, you don’t even know the guy yet and you’re going to make sure you don’t stew on how attractive he is. You know how mad Tommy will be and besides, your brother isn’t exactly loyal to you. You imagine if you did make a move on Billy and he rejected you, Tommy wouldn’t stop hanging out with him. Or god forbid, he doesn’t reject you but instead breaks your heart and Tommy would still pick Billy’s side. You know this about your brother.

“But they went into the bathroom and I guess argued, because Steve came storming out and he looked like he was crying,” you continue, picking at a loose thread on your skirt.

Tommy snorts, “I knew they wouldn’t last long.”

Carol nods along with him, “She’s too prissy for Steve. I bet the argument was something stupid too.”

“Maybe,” you shrug, allowing yourself to turn slightly and just in time to catch Tina shoving her tongue down Billy’s throat. You’re quick to turn back to your brother and Carol.

“You guys wanna leave soon?” Carol asks, you know she’s trying to be casual but only asking to save you the displeasure of watching Billy and Tina make out for the rest of the night.

“Yeah, I’m pretty over it,” you admit, stretching your arms up.

Tommy scoffs, “You guys are so boring. It’s still early.”

It is, you don’t even feel drunk yet but you are bored and too many unpleasant feelings are swirling around you. If you get any more alcohol in you, you’re libel to throw yourself at Steve, or worse, Billy.

“This party kind of blows, though,” Carol argues and wraps her arms around Tommy, whispering something in his ear. Whatever she said has him grinning and jumping to his feet. You’d rather not know.

;;;

You’re sitting in study hall, trying to stay awake when a note lands on your desk. You turn and see Steve failing at trying to look innocent, he fake coughs in his hand while stretching his opposite arm up and then back down. His eyes meet yours briefly and he quickly looks away, a hint of smile on his lips. You unfold the note and see Steve’s messy handwriting scrawled lopsided on the top of the page.

Wanna listen to my Abba record?

You stare at it a little dumbfounded, because it was an inside joke between the two of you. It was his lame way of trying to get you alone at one of his parties. It was only the second time you guys had ever messed around and as your relationship continued, it became something Steve would say just to make you blush or laugh. Worse, though, it turned into a code for sneaking away to hook up. His fight with Nancy must’ve been more serious than you thought. This was Steve’s olive branch, and it was sleazy but it was also romantic, unfortunately.

You write back in neat, straight handwriting, Right here in study hall?

You carefully slide the paper onto his desk and turn back to your textbook. From the corner of your eye, you see Steve grinning wide as he reads what you’ve wrote before furiously writing and handing it back.

Is that a yes?

It’s a maybe. I don’t think Mr. Delfin would appreciate it.

Fair enough. The albums at my house anyway. After school then?

You chew on your bottom lip. It would be very easy to fall back into this but you have plans with your brother, Carol and Billy. However, the prospect of being alone with Steve seems way more appealing. And you can’t help yourself, you think about Steve more than you think about anything else. You absolutely miss touching him and you’ve been rather frustrated since he started going out with Nancy.

Meet me in the library after school.

;;;

You made some dumb excuse to Carol about having to work on a class project in the library. She bought it but tried to insist on you ditching it entirely to get to know Billy better. Which you knew Carol was aware you wouldn’t go for.

When Steve walks up to you, you’re standing at the window. He leans against the wall and looks at you quizzically.

“Whatcha doing?”

You watch as Tommy and Carol pile into his car and drive off, the blue Camaro following after them and you say to Steve, “Just making sure it’s… safe. Okay, let’s go.”

Steve let’s out a scoff, “Don’t want them to see you with me?”

You crane your head sideways as you look up at him, “I’m ditching them for you. They’d be mad.”

Steve nods his head, pursing his lips like he can taste your words. You keep your hands to yourself on the walk to his BMW, you’d learned to do as much when you guys were fooling around. Steve talks a lot on the drive to Loch Nora. None of it really makes much sense, or is important but you like listening to his voice. It’s adorable, he stutters every so often and rambles on, losing his thought and then rushing into a completely new thought. The reason you like it so much is you’ve seen Steve hit on girls throughout the years and weirdly enough, this is how he does it so you feel special when it’s directed at you.

His house is empty, it usually is but what always shocked you was how clean it was. A teenage boy lived there alone for eight months of the year, you expected it to be messy but then again, you’re sure they have a cleaning lady coming often. Steve leads you up the stairs and to his bedroom. It smells clean, like laundry detergent and his cologne. Your stomach is doing flips at the familiarity of it all, you’ve been in this exact position many times before and you’re anticipating his next moves. As you sit on his bed, Steve wraps his hand around your hip and lays you on your back. You shyly smile up at him, the weight of his body makes you tingle all over and his big, brown eyes look into yours. There hasn’t been a night in months that you haven’t pictured this exact moment happening, ushering you to sleep and hopefully dream of Steve.

He pushes tucks your hair behind your ear as he cracks a smile, teeth bright and white while his cheeks flush just a smidge. You want to tell him how much you’ve missed him but him and Nancy have only been broken up a couple of days, you know what this is. That’s your downfall, though, you’ll bend over backwards to have Steve. When his lips caress yours, a small moan rises up your throat involuntarily. It’s a soft, sweet kiss and he gently holds your cheek as he does it. Your fingers snake into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer so you can deepen the kiss. Steve takes things slow, he always did and you’ve always been bursting at the seams, eager for more. You drag your tongue against his lower lip, begging for entrance and he allows you easily. Your body lights up, feels like you’re on fire when he grinds just barely on top of you. His thigh between your legs presses against your center and it makes your head feel heavy, falling apart beneath him. Steve’s like a drug and you’ve been sober for far too long. Your desperation makes you feel antsy, you want things to progress much faster than they are but Steve is stubborn, he sets the pace. He’s different than any other man you’ve been with, he’ll kiss you until your jaw hurts and you’re trembling. That seems to be his intent now because when you try to pull away from it, he grabs your jaw and kisses you harder. You whimper against his lips, wriggling your hips to demonstrate how badly you need him.

Steve pulls back and smiles down at you, stroking his thumb along the apple of your cheek, “You’re so beautiful.”

You flush, grinning from ear to ear as you avert your eyes, unable to hold eye contact. With a giggle you tell him, “So are you.”

He lets out a small, breathless laugh, “Thank you.”

Steve places kisses along your jaw and down your neck, he licks against your skin but he’s always been careful not to leave any marks. Back when you two were fooling around regularly, you weren’t so careful with him and you’d litter his neck and chest with love bites. Steve could always explain them away much easier than you could.

He continues kissing against your collarbone as he starts unbuttoning your shirt. You inhale sharply, goosebumps rising all over your skin when his fingers brush against your now exposed stomach. Steve’s lips descend once he gets your blouse completely undone, brushing them against the curve of your breast. This is the area he doesn’t hold back, sucking and biting gently at the tender skin until it’s raw and sore. You know you’ll have a bruise there by the end of the night but you don’t mind. It’ll be proof this isn’t a dream. In sync, you prop up on your elbows as Steve leans back and reaches around to unclasp your bra. You dispose of the blouse and bra before reaching for the hem of Steve’s polo and pull it over his head. You smooth your hands over his head before he leans down and licks at your perked nipple, his Bambi eyes looking up at you curiously. You whine, arching into the touch as your eyes flutter shut. For a moment, you picture blonde curls and blue eyes but quickly push the thought away as shame begins spreading through your stomach. You try not to think about it too much, not willing to admit even to yourself that you want Billy in that way.

“Steve,” you pant out, for good measure.

He sucks your nipple between his lips as he hand moves to squeeze and knead at your other breast. Another moan falls out of your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut and knit your fingers into his hair. He grazes his fingertips across your neglected nipple and laps against the other. It’s intoxicating, you focus on his soft his hair feels between your fingers. Your thighs tingle as heat surges through your stomach and straight to your core. It’s quiet in the house, in the room, the only sound is Steve’s mouth on your and your paired labored breathing.

When he moves back up to crash his lips into yours and press his body close, you feel his cock hard in his jeans against your navel. He grunts softly against your lips moving both his hands to grip your jaw as he licks into your mouth eagerly. This is unlike Steve, he usually doesn’t express desperation until he’s already inside of you. It gets your hopes up, like maybe he’s been missing you just as badly as you’ve been missing him. And maybe that’s wishful thinking but in this moment, you’ll take it. You grab onto his waist and writhe up against him, letting him know you’re just as needy.

Steve pulls back from the sloppy kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips as his hands lower and he’s making quick work getting your jeans and panties down to your ankles. They hang awkwardly there, your tennis shoes are still on but you're really liking the frenzy of it all. Steve props himself on his knees and does the same with his jeans and briefs, pushing them down to his knees as his long cock springs out and slaps against his stomach. God, you’ve missed the sight of it, your mouth waters as you breathe heavy. Memories of the way it felt in your mouth flood your mind, causing your hips to jerk up in arousal and Steve smiles down at you, clearing taking the movement as a compliment. He circles his hand around himself, pumping a few times before dragging his head through your folds.

“Steve…” you moan out slowly, another surge of wetness flowing out of you.

“Yeah?” he breathes out, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes look glassy. It’s such a pretty view, you wiggle against him.

“Need you,” you admit, shyly.

He licks against his bottom lip before rubbing his tip against your fluttering hole, “You been with anyone else since me?”

You shake your head, knowing the reason behind his question, “I’m clean.”

Steve nods, his hair bouncing with the movement before he sinks his cock inside of you. You gasp out, grabbing onto his bedspread while you melt at the sensation. It’s been way too long. You’re tight, haven’t had anything stretch you out since the last time you had Steve like this. He grunts softly, eyes squeezing shut as he slowly sheathes himself completely inside you.

“Oh,” you moan out, feeling him fill you out in the most delicious way. You force your eyes to stay open, wanting to watch the way Steve’s face contorts in pleasure as he stills his movements. He grazes his fingers up your sides as he lowers himself, his chest flush against yours while his lips find yours again. The kiss is languid, matching the stroke of him between your legs. It’s sensual which is typical from Steve but a stark contrast to the short foreplay. It takes your breath away, regardless. He pulls back an inch, panting against your lips as he rolls his hips deeper, running his hand down to hold onto your hip.

You try to spread your legs further, but the clothing around your ankles makes it difficult. Your hands scratch down his back and you arch your back, moving your hips to chase your high. Steve grunts out and then bites his bottom lip hard, moving his hips faster and more wildly than before. It’s exactly what you need as the pressure building inside you is pulled taut, you’re so close you can almost see it.

“Fuck me, Steve,” you whine out and he makes a pretty, needy sound that has you reeling. It was the type of sound that was the reason you’d always loved going down on Steve.

He rocks his hips into you harder and faster, pulling out little breathy moans from you as you cling onto his back.

“You like that?” he pants out, his hair bouncing with every thrust and you nod up at him, eyebrows furrowing as your orgasm looms closer and closer.

You press your palm against his cheek and he kisses you deeply, smoothing his hands up and down your sides as he moves against you. The kiss pushes you over the edge, a sharp cry flooding out of you as you climax around him, your walls fluttering around his dick and Steve starts making the familiar sounds, desperate and whiny little noises. He pulls out of you quickly, spilling his load over your stomach with a strangled groan. You hum happily, eyes dancing across his gorgeous face. He stuffs himself back in his pants and walks over to his hamper, grabbing a shirt and walking back over to wipe his mess from your navel. He pants as he does it and when he moves away again to dispose of the shirt, you pull your clothes back on.

“You want me to just drop you at home or back at school?” he asks, his eyes everyone but on you.

“Home is fine,” you say, trying to hide the way your heart is splitting yet again from Steve Harrington.

The car ride there is awkward and when you’re a block away, you notice Tommy and Billy’s cars parked on the street.

“Just drop me here,” you say softly and Steve pulls over. As you get out, he leans over and grabs your wrist. You kneel down and lean back in the car. He kisses you gently and then smiles awkwardly at you.

“I’ll see you later,” you say before shutting the door and slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

You walk up to the front door, noticing as Steve makes a u-turn and heads back in the direction of Loch Nora. Tears are threatening to break free but you will them back down, stepping inside the house and waving at Tommy, Billy and Carol as they’re lounged on the couch, watching music videos. You close yourself in the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your hair down and fixing your makeup. Once you feel you’ve calmed down enough, you make your way back out to the living room and very nicely ask Billy if you could bum a smoke.

“I’ll join ya,” he says, standing from the couch.

Tommy moves to follow but Carol grabs his wrist and pulls him back down, leaning close to whisper something and he looks like he’s about to protest until she starts kissing his neck. You make a face and lead Billy out the back door. You sit down on the plastic furniture and graciously accept the cigarette he hands over. Billy pulls out his zippo and lights it for you. Seeing him, unfortunately, eases the way your heart aches. Deep down, you know Billy would do the same thing Steve just did to you but you try not to focus on that. You feel ridiculous that you thought things might be different this time. It’s obvious that you’ve always been an easy lay to Steve and it hurts that you’re still that.

“How was the library?” he asks as he lights his own cigarette.

You shrug, “Really exciting at first, until it sucked.”

“So what’s his name?” Billy asks, smirking up at you as he exhales the thick smoke.

You blush, dropping your head before replying, “That obvious, is it?”

Billy lets out a big, belly laugh. It’s a nice sound, you want to make him laugh over and over.

“I can always tell when a woman’s had an orgasm,” he quips, sliding his tongue out almost obscenely along his lower lip. It’s insane how quickly he’s making you feel better, no matter how blunt he is.

“Yeah, well, his name isn’t important because the whole thing,” you gesture your hands in big circles, “wasn’t important to him.”

Billy inhales sharply, gritting his teeth, “Well… speaking from experience… ‘cause I am one so.. yeah, all guys want the same thing.”

You curl your lips down in a frown as you chew over his words, deciding you’re not much better than Steve because you went along with it for the same reasons. You wanted to fuck him and shit, you got that.

“Sometimes,” you giggle softly, bringing the cigarette up to your lips, “Girls are after the same thing.”

The blonde laughs again and you wanna breathe it in, wanna taste his laughs and his lips and his whole body. He’s different than Steve, physically rougher around the edges which makes him that much more interesting. Exotic maybe. His hair doesn’t look nearly as soft as Steve’s, not nearly as cared for. You’d seen the Farrah Fawcett spray in Steve’s bathroom and you can guarantee Billy doesn’t use the same thing.

“I’ve seen my fair share of that,” he agrees, “but I think a big difference is once guys have it once, they don’t want it again but girls do.”

“Or they want it again when it’s easy,” you point out, reaching over to snatch the beer from his hand and taking a big gulp from it.

“Beware of those assholes,” he says, raising his eyebrows and looking at you seriously.

You groan softly, “I was trying to stay away from him.”

“Who is it?” Billy asks, curiously. “I won’t tell.”

“But you so will,” you gush, bringing your hand to your face, “It’s premium gossip.”

“You think I’m that type?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow up.

You turn to him, “This is juicy. It’s be hard not to tell people.”

“What? Harrington?”

Willing your face to remain still, “No.”

Billy scoffs, “King Steve. No way. That is something.”

“It’s not Steve,” you seethe, though you know your face is giving it away.

He chuckles softly and grabs the beer back, “Your secret is safe with me but uh… you could do better.”

Billy gets up from the chair, tossing his cigarette before walking back inside.

[physalian]

Treatment of female characters in fandom

Fandom Hot Take That Isn't At All New

The floor is open for debate, feel free (but do so respectfully, yeah?). This is a pattern I notice when exploring both old and new fandoms and that’s the perception of the highest-ranking female character, with rank as in protagonist vs love interest vs secondary vs tertiary character. Upon a massive paradigm-shift I just had about Percabeth.

There is a tendency, at least as I see it, within fandom to skew in favor of the female protagonist in fanfic instead of dumping her for the two hottest male characters. This happens when the female hero is a wish-fulfilment type. As most fanfic is written by women, this tracks. The audience loves her whether she sucks or not because she's them, and they write smut and romance for her because they want to live through her. They're very forgiving to female leads in and even if the fandom argues over her, she’s still the center of the largest ships. She’s the hero, and odds are, the most popular ship is the canon pairing, with some exceptions like Zutara.

If she’s not the protagonist, look at any fandom with a male lead and she’s probably dumped for the top five hottest men in the story for non-canon pairings. She has very little slack in the fandom and is subject to incredibly critical views. She has to be on point or better than her male counterpoints (ex: Katara) to be in the top ship for the fandom, or her canon ship with the male protagonist is just that old that it predates everything else (ex: Annabeth). Why? Because they're almost always less compelling than the hero's next closest male connection, because the writer wrongfully assumes that “it’s romance, you get, it I don’t need to put in the effort” but they do have to convince you why the friendship or rivalry exists. But also, because of how fandom treats female love interests.

I don’t read a ton of original fiction romance and when I do, it’s always a lady lead. If I look up fanfic for a series and I personally think the main romance is meh, she’s still there all over the archive (TOG, Twilight, Red Queen, Outlander, Star Wars Sequels, Max Ride etc). If I look up a fandom with the same quality of problematic romance, she’s tarred and feathered by virtue of being the love interest even if her character is as deep or as compelling as her contemporaries in other works where she’s the hero instead.

As in, if Edward was the protagonist of Twilight, the majority pairing would be Edward/Jacob while Bella would be absolutely despised. Same exact personality, same exact role in the story, it’s just told from Edward’s perspective (which I know exists I’m talking the actual book Twilight). People already hate the Star Wars Sequels, but if they were the exact same movies except Kylo was the POV character, “fans” might’ve bullied Daisy Ridley so much that they killed off her character—looking at you, Supernatural fandom.

Not every single lady love interest. Astrid/Hiccup is the most popular ship on AO3 for HTTYD. Astrid is a badass character and far more than a love interest and a perfect example of writers who worked hard to make it believable (and also there’s no one really second to Astrid within the story in terms of depth and screentime, except Toothless… which is the next most popular ship so). But even when she's pretty universally loved by the fandom (ex. Hermione) that doesn't guarantee her top billing if she has a male rival for screentime.

I don’t know if it’s just different fans who pick up these different genres or double standards for female characters but it’s pretty consistent. It might just be that readers can live vicariously though a cardboard narrator but get incredibly protective of the male lead and who’s allowed to court him when they can’t. I had this debate with somebody a while ago and they argued that it simply comes down to fanfic writers getting attached to the few female protagonists they're allowed to have. But like. This is across all genres, and the idea that fans starved of female heroes will only like them if they're the main hero and not the secondar hero is not the pro-women slam-dunk that person thought it was.

I also only really participate in fandom where it concerns fanfic and not live online discourse. I write male protagonists as a female author because it’s just what I grew up reading more and I like the action adventure genre far more than the romance genre, which is usually helmed by male heroes, but my writer catalogue is nearly 60/40.

It says something pretty loud and clear about the state of Percabeth which had ten years on Solangelo, to have the gap closed between them, with some disclaimers: I’m only looking on AO3 and Percabeth predates the surge in popularity of AO3 vs FFN where Solangelo hit at the perfect time. The third most important character in the PJO books kept changing from book to book (Grover, Thalia, Luke, Rachel, Zoe, etc), so Annabeth was the only ship option, she had no big competition.

But even then, when I go out of my way looking for good Percabeth fics, they’re just not there. The ship might technically be the most popular in that it populates in the most fics, but it’s not as front and center as Solangelo, and there’s way less canon content for Solangelo. If Will had been a girl, Solangelo would not be the fandom juggernaut that it is. If Annabeth was a man and Percabeth was a gay ship, she'd probably have a lot less hate with the exact same abusive personality, simply because she'd be a man and male characters will always have more leeway.

[archiveikemen]

Harrison Gray Main Story: Chapter 7

These are fan-made translations solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

Harrison: By the way, Jude. I need to ask you about something.

Liam: Oh, I know. You’re going to ask if he knows of any interesting things that can be used for the plot of a novel, right?

Harrison’s aloof smile showed that Liam was right.

Jude: No. What benefit will selling you information bring me?

Harrison: What if… I told you that I found an out of print book you’ve been looking for?

Jude: … tch.

Jude: Then you should’ve said that from the start, you disgusting guy.

Jude folded the newspaper he was reading and spoke reluctantly.

Jude: Recently there’s been a certain incident that happened in the shadows causing unease.

Liam: Sounds interesting.

Jude: It happened just the other day. Everyone involved in human trafficking were killed by “someone” without leaving a single trace.

Jude: Harrison. Liam. The two of you know what incident I’m talking about.

(Oh…)

– Flashback Start –

Man 1: One bill, two bills, three bills… haha! We made so much money selling those orphaned brats from the East End to other countries.

Man 1: A truly profitable business. There are people who want those starving brats, and even their corpses.

Man 2: As long as people like them continue to exist, our pockets will never be empty. Haha, this is great!

– Flashback End –

(He’s referring to the mission I accompanied them on when I first joined Crown… right?)

Harrison: Yeah, what about it?

Jude: Apparently, human trafficking wasn’t the only crime those people committed. They were also involved in “selling the organs of the deceased”.

Kate: Organ trafficking…? What on earth for…?

Jude: There are people conducting some strange research on keeping humans alive through organ transplantation.

Harrison: For instance, if someone has heart problems, their heart will be replaced by someone else’s?

Jude: Exactly.

(I’ve never heard of such a medical procedure before…)

Medical advancement could be achieved through attempting to do the impossible.

Liam: But, wouldn't it be more ideal to kidnap a living person and kill them only when it's time to use their organs?

Liam: Human flesh rots too, right? I think keeping the person alive would help preserve the freshness of their organs.

Harrison: Liam, don’t talk about this like you’re talking about food.

Harrison: … Well, I guess it’ll be troublesome to kill them, and certain organs like the eyeballs won’t turn bad as quickly.

Jude: They want to make use of corpses, but they don’t want to do the killing.

Jude: Human beings are such selfish creatures.

(Corpses incapable of speaking have value to some people…)

But even so, doing as they please without consent from the deceased or their families is unforgivable.

Liam: All of them are dead now, though. I’m sure of it… I killed them all back then.

Liam: The human and organ trafficking have been put to an end now. That means the case is closed, isn’t it?

Jude: Is there something wrong with your head? I wouldn't be bringing it up if it were truly over.

Jude’s eyes sharpened and he continued talking about the case.

We thought it was all over. However, —

Jude said that dead bodies were still being found around the docks at the harbour.

The incidents occurred at different timings, and there was nothing in common amongst the victims. Therefore, the main culprit was still at large.

Jude: All the bodies had a crown symbol carved onto them.

Liam: A crown…?

Harrison: Hmm. Could that mean those bodies were meant as offerings?

Kate: I’m sorry, Harrison. I can’t keep up with any of this at all…

Harrison: In England, a title is given to outstanding brands and companies to signify approval from the royal family.

Liam: You know the crown symbols you see on some tea packaging and tailor shop signboards? That’s the one.

Kate: Ah, I’ve seen them before.

Harrison: The symbol was created to differentiate top quality British goods from cheap imports.

Harrison: And so, a crown symbol being carved onto the bodies implies that they were “offered” to someone.

Liam: Could it be that… the royal family is involved in this?

Harrison: No, they're not. The culprits are just pretending to be members of the royal family, like some kind of mockery. … I’m sure of it.

Liam: Then, “who” is offering those bodies to “who”?

Jude: At first, it was thought that those people hired someone to obtain the bodies for them.

Jude: However, that man is now dead and bodies are still showing up.

Jude: That’s why people are calling this case “an endless series of murders”. Hah, it's so lame I can't even laugh.

(... An endless series of murders.)

Liam: This is like one of those mystery novels Harry often reads.

Victor: Mm-hmm. The truth may sometimes be stranger than fiction.

Kate • Liam: WHOA…!

Kate: Victor! All of a sudden…

Victor gave me a playful wink and turned his gemstone-like eyes towards Harrison.

Victor: Harrison, Her Majesty the Queen has a royal order for you.

Victor: “Put an end to these endless murders. If need be, use your evil to condemn the sinners”.

Jude: It reached Her Majesty's ears already? … That shrewd woman.

Harrison: Why me? If there are dead bodies involved, then shouldn't the police already be investigating it?

Victor: The number of dead bodies found has exceeded 14. However, the culprit remains unknown and nowhere to be found. The police have since stopped their investigations.

Victor: I supposed it’s to avoid showing the public how incompetent they are.

Victor: They should be gathered in a small room and discussing their next move by now.

Liam: Ordinary detectives can’t take any action without being given the order from their higher ups. I detest such hierarchies.

Harrison: … The police are truly incompetent through and through.

Harrison: Yeah, fine. It’s not as if I have the right to refuse an order from Her Majesty the Queen to begin with.

Harrison: Hey, what about you…?

Kate: Huh?

Harrison: Aren't you going to ask to tag along as a fairytale writer?

(Although I’ll be going as a fairytale writer, I do think that two heads will work better than one.)

Kate: Of course, I am. Please let me go with you, Harrison.

Harrison: You’re as spirited as ever. … Well, do as you please.

Harrison: Meet me at the entrance in 5 minutes.

Kate: Where are we going?

Harrison: Gathering information.

…

We left the castle and arrived at the harbour where many ships were docked.

(This is the harbour where many dead bodies were discovered.)

Harrison: There’s no way he can pinpoint who the culprit is without first gathering information.

Harrison: So, what’s your name?

Kate: ? It’s Kate…

Harrison: You’re funny. I remember your name from the night we first met.

Harrison: That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m asking for the name you’ll use to go undercover to look for information.

Harrison: As a member of Crown, I have to keep my identity a secret, and there’s no need for you to be honest either.

(Oh, I-I see. … I misunderstood him.)

Kate: It was hard to understand when you phrased it like that…

Harrison: We’ll proceed as a pair of detectives hired by the police. So in that case…

Kate: Oh, how about you go as Sherlock Holmes, and I’ll be—

Harrison: Irene Adler? … No, I think you’re more similar to Watson.

Harrison: But I’m not going to use such obviously fake names. Let’s go with names that sound like a butler and maid.

Kate: … Okay.

Harrison: Alright then, let’s go.

…

While we were interviewing the people in the vicinity, it soon became nighttime.

Kate: … We didn't manage to find any major leads.

Harrison: Yeah, most of the things we heard are the same as the information Victor provided. The only new piece of information is…

Harrison: 1 of the 14 corpses is a man with a large build.

Harrison: Transporting a dead body is difficult, even more so when the rigour mortis sets in.

Kate: That’s to say…

Harrison: There’s a possibility that the crime was committed by multiple people, or it could be by a very strong individual…

…

Harrison and I continued with our investigation in between completing missions for Crown, piecing all the information we gathered together.

And so, we went out to town again tonight…

Kate: No new information tonight too…

Harrison: Yeah, we’re repeating the police’s failure.

We were having sweets at a cafe Harrison often went to.

(This won’t do. We might miss out on crucial details if we're feeling demoralised.)

Kate: Harrison, shall we order one more grape parfait? We can each have half of it.

Harrison: …

Harrison: Yeah, sure. And of course, it’s still your treat… right?

Kate: N-Not this time!

Just then, we heard the door to the cafe open.

(...? This cafe doesn't usually have many customers.)

Two male customers entered the cafe and paid no attention to us, they started having a heated discussion the moment they took their seats.

Man In A Suit: Sir! It’s about time the manuscript was submitted. The deadline passed a long time ago!

Man with London Blue Hair: I know that, but I’ve been too busy having fun with girls.

Man In A Suit: For goodness sake, Sir! I’m the one who will be reprimanded by the higher ups.

Kate: … Those two guys seem to be a writer and an editor. Harrison, do you know them?

Harrison: Nope. They’re from a different publishing company than the one I work at.

The man who appeared to be a writer grinned at the other man.

Man with London Blue Hair: When you look at something, you’re not actually observing it close enough. … That’s how it's always been.

Man In A Suit: … What are you talking about?

Man with London Blue Hair: If you observe me closely, there are many things you’ll learn about me.

Man with London Blue Hair: For example, look here. The hem of my shirt is stained with ink. This proves that I was working on the manuscript earlier.

Man with London Blue Hair: And from the time we met up, I’ve been carrying a bag I don't usually use.

Man in London Blue Hair: This is how you can infer that I have the manuscript with me.

The man placed a bundle of paper appearing to be a manuscript onto the table.

Man In A Suit: Oh, thank you so much, Sir…!

Man with London Blue Hair: You’re welcome. Sorry to have kept you waiting for so long, yeah?

Kate: Fufufu, I wonder if that person is a mystery novel writer? He seems to be the kind of person you'd get along with very well.

Harrison: …

Kate: … Harrison?

Harrison: I think I might have overlooked something very important…

[baejax-the-great]

ao3 exists, plus it doesnt even matter what terms i search for on tumblr 100% of the time theres fanfiction. literally you can search any words on this website and some kpop guy/ reader fanfics flood the results every single fucking time. plus some of us are not here for fandoms??? your circus/clown analogy is stupid

So I'm incredibly allergic to shrimp-- to the point where if I ate a single shrimp I would die, to the point where I don't really consider shrimp food anymore--and it's the weirdest thing, yesterday i went to Target to buy hair conditioner, and they were selling shrimp. Don't they know it wasn't what I was looking for and I can't eat it anyway? Why would they do this? Totally fucked up of those shrimp catchers to try to poison me like that.

But analogies clearly aren't your thing, so let me break this down for you.

AO3 does indeed exist, but your suggestion that fanfic live there and ONLY there is akin to saying that imgur exists, so nobody should be posting images, whether they be photos or art, on any other website. Twitter exists (sort of), so really nobody should be posting shit posts or hot takes that are fewer than 140 characters or whatever.

Not everyone uses AO3. There is no law saying that if you write fanfic, you must post it on AO3 and nowhere else. There will never be a law that says that, because that's not how the internet works. Tumblr, one of the few social media sites that allows longform blogging, is in fact a great alternative to AO3 for one-shots. It's a little trickier for multi-chapter posts, but I've seen people make it work.

AO3 is not social media. People can't DM there, send asks, make friends, bump their post to the top of the feed (unless they are an asshole who is about to get blocked by half of fandom for pulling that move). Do you like social media? I mean you're here, on tumblr, bothering a total stranger, so you must see some value to it. Guess what--fanfic authors also enjoy being on social media and sharing what they've been up to, including their WIPs.

Things you aren't looking for being part of your searches is literally just life on the internet at all times forever. Earlier this month I was looking for a reference of draped fabric for drawing purposes. I googled 'chiton drawing' (chitons like the ancient Greeks used to wear), and all I got were drawings of molluscs of the genus 'chiton.' Alright, I did a google search for "toga drawing" and learned that there is an anime girl named Toga and people very much enjoy drawing her. Were the artists of the molluscs or the anime girl to blame for me having to slog through a bunch of irrelevant pictures to find one that could help me with my drawing? No. They correctly labeled what they were doing. That's just life.

Seeing fanfic in the tag doesn't harm you. At all. It doesn't matter if you find it cringe, or it's a ship you don't like, or it's xReader. For like ten seconds you looked at words you didn't particularly like, and then you moved on. How is that different from literally any other post on tumblr? I see bad takes and essays I don't care about on this site all the time. It's called scrolling. Again, this will be the case for every website on the internet forever. Are you telling me you read every tweet in your feed? Every reddit post? Sometimes you see irrelevant stuff. I guarantee some of my mutuals have already deemed this long ass post irrelevant and are scrolling on by. What makes fiction that much more abhorrent to you than the rest of the nonsense?

If you really hate seeing fanfic, tumblr has content blocking and tag blocking. You can block the phrase "x Reader." You can block the tag "fanfic." You can block all sorts of things, and if that doesn't work, you can just block the writers whose existence annoys you.

Sorry man, you personally not liking fandom and not using tumblr for it has really no bearing on what everyone else is doing. Like it or not, tumblr is a hub of fandom, and fanfic authors are going to be a part of every fandom on this green earth. Just because you came to the circus in order to admire the pretty fabric used on the tents doesn't mean the performers are in the wrong for doing their thing.

[irontragedyreview]

There are many dudebros criticizing that if Izuku couldn't have a quirk, at the very least he should have kept the girl like if Ochako is a consolation prize that belongs to him. This type of reasoning shows why many are single and if they have a partner they show that those partners deserve better. Personally, my biggest relief was that the time skip had not been one with the characters married and with children all of the same age as if they had decided on a strange parental planning (Boruto) and sincerely I wanted to see them as professionals and in their careers and not like negligent parents (because every new generation needs daddy or mommy isuess). But getting back to the main topic outside of Ochako we never had confirmation that Izuku had romantic feelings for her, beyond one blush that was explained more by Izuku's lack of experience socializing with women than anything else. I prefer a more platonic dynamic be respected between them.

However, I'm not going to lie, I would have liked a confession from Ochako, because none of this guaranteed a romance, but rather that Ochako accepted her feelings, didn't hide them and above all not distance her from being a friend to Izuku, since in many moments, due to nerves or wanting to hide her crush this ended up distancing her from her friend. I think a confession could close that chapter between them, especially because just as she said in her fight against Toga, she fell in love with Izuku. Confessing is simply accepting a fact, that she understands that crushes can be temporary, that your high school love doesn't define you and that even rejection isn't the end of the world. That is to say, accepting that your feelings aren't a burden and above all that they aren't an obstacle to your professional future but that it's just a CRUSH. So, I would have liked a closure with them as platonic, who are important to the other. On the other hand, to any Ochako fans who come across these idiots, I can assure you that even if Ochako had confessed and Midoriya had rejected her, they would attack Izuku saying that he rejected her for being gay and any other pejorative words regarding his sexuality because dudebros have a concentration of misogy where the woman is the object and homophobia because there is no possible way for a guy to reject a girl without being gay. Dudesbros are the first to criticize male characters who show emotions and female characters who, according to them, owe respect to male characters. Honestly, they are annoying and the shonen genre has so many of them that they can only read a story at a superficial level where the protagonist has to be a being with controlled or non-existent emotions and with a harem, the best thing is to ignore them and block them.

[comicaurora]

Question, from one aspiring writer to another: how do you manage to maintain the drive to keep writing and how do you not lose interest in what you've created before it's done? Asking because I need advice.

Tricky question. I don't think it has a single answer.

For me personally, there are a few things that buoy up my enthusiasm:

Rabbit Holes - random deep-dives into topics I find incredibly interesting. Because I have so many outlets for my rants about highly specific cool things, I don't need to stifle any random hyperfixations because almost all of them can be turned into scripts or worldbuilding concepts. If I feel the enthusiasm strike, I chase it down as far as I can and take as many notes as possible along the way. However, these things work like lightning strikes and I can't just get randomly super interested in any one thing. Almost all of my longform videos start out as these.

Comedic Reframing - the bread and butter of the channel and the lifehack that let my poor brain actually focus on extremely long and boring books through college. It's easier for me to retain information and enthusiasm if I can find humor in what I'm dealing with on a smaller scale. When working on illustrating videos, for instance, the way I avoid burning out on individual frames is by making sure they have witty dialogue or fun character moments, because I genuinely enjoy drawing those a lot more than just "character moves into position" or "scene change" shots. Same goes for the comic - the more dynamic or interesting the pose, the more interesting the panel is to draw and the easier it is for me to stay jazzed.

Audience Feedback - I feel like this part is simultaneously understated and overstated in different ways. Creating art solely for the accolades it might garner is seen as generally both gauche and inefficient - it'll turn into an existentially draining losing battle like all pursuit of fame for fame's sake does - but any writer or artist will tell you that people losing their minds over their art is the number one way to guarantee they want to make more art. When drawing the comic, even when I'm lower energy, I'll often think to myself "oh man, they're gonna be yelling about this panel" and that'll help give me a boost. Early on in the comic I read through the discord discussions almost every day, but now I'm mostly sustained just from people yelling in my askbox.

Letting The Characters Run Wild - I've mentioned this elsewhere, but one of the most fun parts of writing for me is when the characters kinda tap me on the shoulder and say "hey boss, I really wanna do this". Their character-moment is almost always spicier, more complicated and more interesting than whatever plot-serving guideline it's replacing. Making the characters act as automatons that solely move the plot forward is less interesting for me as a writer than turning them loose and seeing the havoc they cause. Before I ever put pen to paper for this story, half my fun would just be playing out extremely fraught conversations and encounters between characters - no script, no plan, just "here's the premise and GO." Lots of stories start out as daydreams, and daydreams are like the purest form of energizing creation, existing only for the joy of the creator and thus flowing almost effortlessly; I think it's important to retain the heart of that when the daydreams start being set down on paper. If it's not a little self-indulgent it's not gonna be too much fun, and sometimes all it takes is letting the characters do the wild thing with consequences you haven't fully worked out yet.

In my experience, the thing I enjoy most as a creator is solving puzzles. I have more fun writing my story when I only mostly know where it's going, and I have to work out the most interesting consequences to my characters' unexpected actions. I have more fun drawing out a joke if the punchline didn't even occur to me before I started the frame, because the idea is fresh and fun and hasn't gone stale from sitting in my head too long. And my enthusiasm for my older work is reinvigorated when I see how other people respond to it, because it lets me almost see my own work through fresh eyes, which is a rare treat for any creator.

And when I get really worn down, I treat that like a sign that something needs readjusting. I don't force it when I'm worn out or can't bear to look at my tablet - I step back, take a break, take a walk, indulge in Floor Time, watch a movie, buy a coffee, do something that isn't trying to floor the accelerator when I'm stuck in a creative snowdrift. Sometimes that means putting a project down for months. Sometimes that means realizing I wouldn't actually be able to make a project happen because it'd be draining my will to live the whole time.

I sometimes use the metaphor that a creator's mind is like a garden. Its works need to be cultivated, but sometimes they also need to be left alone, or maybe the soil needs to be actively left fallow for a while. It may look like the project isn't doing anything, when in actuality it's spreading its roots and developing a much more solid foundation where you can't see it. Maybe two concepts cross-pollinate in an unexpected way and you get a new third thing to cultivate. But the most important part of this metaphor is that the well-being of every individual thing growing in the garden is heavily dependent on the heart of the garden overall. If you aren't doing okay, your art isn't going to be okay either. If it's feeling like a fruitless and nothing is growing, you might just need rain. Or nitrogen-fixers.

[tanadrin]

"fairly suicidal" anon again. This kind of got away from me and ended up significantly longer than intended. Apologies for that, and if it's too long/involved/whatever to read that's genuinely totally fine. (Which is to say: please do not think you have some kind of obligation or I will be Extra Suicidal if you don't respond or whatever. I've got at least a couple more years or one more massive life-wrecking trauma left in me.)

I think your response is pretty typical of people who are, at baseline, pretty happy and optimistic, and I'm sure there are people who haven't heard its like before and would benefit from it, but.... let's be honest that's kind of a generic autocomplete response, and in my experience it tends to come from people who can't or don't really model serious depression well. My model of the perspective you are coming from is something like: It would be terrible for the things I'm saying to be true, and they don't feel true to you, so surely they must not be true for anyone-- you don't want the world to be one where those things are true, and sometimes they are untrue, so, therefore, they're probably untrue basically all the time forever. Unfortunately. I'm aware that 40 years is a decent length of time. I'm aware that my perspective is fallible and limited-- this is the primary reason why I haven't seriously tried to kill myself!. However, looking at how the past 30+ years have gone does not fill me with optimism. In particular the past 15 or so years, where I've technically had the most autonomy, I just kind of... barely existed. I am still trying things to get out of the hole but this really could easily just continue until I die. It is an extremely possible outcome that I spend my entire life wishing it was either worth living or over already, and eventually it reaches "over already." I kept expecting that I'd surely snap out of it eventually, year after year, no one can spend that long in this kind of state, right? And then 15 years passed and I simply did not. It is not unrealistic to believe that that could happen 3 more times.

"Every day you are alive in the world, you have the opportunity to find pleasure" rings really hollow when my physiological capacity to experience pleasure and happiness is extremely minimal and has been tangibly shrinking for as long as I've been a conscious human being. It feels tone-deaf. I know what my baseline looks like. It is not good. If I was guaranteed to die tomorrow, then having lived my life will have unequivocally been worse for me than not having lived it at all, and it will have been objectively a mistake that I didn't pull the plug when I was 12 and first having suicidal thoughts.

If, upon turning 80, I figured out how to have a life that was just barely worth living, and then died a year later, that does not actually undo the years of unhappiness before that, and that is still a life that was, on net, not worth living.

My impression is that people coming from your perspective have brains that just fully shut down when considering this prospect-- that you fall into the trap where you believe that even one second of a-life-worth-living is worth any amount of suffering endured to get to that point. It might help to imagine a person who experiences one single year of a life worth living, followed by 80 years of a life full of incredible misery, and then dies.

The me who exists now matters; the hypothetical-unlikely-certainly-not-guaranteed future version of myself who is marginally glad they exist doesn't just automatically get to trump all of that just because that's sad to think about.

Yes, there is no one life "track" but there certainly are circumstances more or less prone to granting happiness-predicting things like enough money to live on, autonomy, fulfillment, etc. Again, there is no rule saying this current status of being perpetually unable to get my feet under me has to end. I have spent the actual majority of my life like this.

Being unable to get a job that pays enough to live on without also making me want to die (more) does in fact hinge pretty strongly on being able to get that special insanely expensive little piece of paper. It is the cost of entry for the vast majority of non-horrible jobs, that is just what the system looks like in the US. (please do not tell me "oh just learn to code!" If I was capable of doing that I would have done it). The material conditions of my life obviously aren't that bad in objective terms given that I'm capable of using my time to send messages on the internet (if they were much worse I would have pulled the plug years ago) so it feels meaningful that I still manage to be so miserable despite that, and plausible that improving them would not help even if it were possible.

There just... there is actually such a thing as a downward spiral where the baseline becomes worse and incremental improvements become progressively harder and more fleeting, as much as it is sad to think about. Sometimes you accumulate damage and get both farther from your goal and worse at making progress towards it, and it just keeps happening. The brain is a physical object that can, sometimes, Just Get Worse. One instance of trauma can make it harder to recover from the next instance of trauma that comes along, and so on. I am still trying, clearly, and I'm clinging to the idea that lots of weird unexpected stuff can happen, but "just hope for a miracle to happen such that these patterns completely reverse against all odds" is... at minimum that's a huge ask. Please recognize it for what it is.

I'm not really looking for answers or anything here (I wasn't before either tbc, I just thought it was interesting how different my opinion apparently was compared with other extremely depressed people), but I tend to really chafe at what feels like clueless forced positivity from people who Really Don't Seem To Get It, and I hope this information will, idk, provide a potentially novel perspective. Or maybe it won't! Sorry again that it was so long.

i've spent a big chunk of my life dealing with depression. i know it pretty well actually. and if i've won any insight from that, it's that in depression we very often exactly misconstrue the causal axis of our thoughts. we think things like, "i am worthless -> therefore i am depressed." but our feelings shape how we think about ourselves and the world; even things which seem like incontrovertible and inarguably facts turn out to be a product of our rumination: "i was depressed -> therefore i felt worthless."

i know this feels like a platitude. i know when you are depressed saying something like "nobody is worthless" or "it's never too late" feels like somebody blowing rainbows up your ass, some hippy dippy shit that doesn't mean anything. but as someone who has frequently felt worthless, and has frequently felt that they have fucked up their life beyond repair, who has seen other people going through it and come out the other side, i'm telling you: as a matter of both personal experience and accumulated knowledge about the world, "nobody is worthless" and "it is never too late" is not a platitude. it is a rational, reasoned judgement i have been won over to, and which i am totally convinced of. i offer it, not as a panacaea (we cannot reason ourselves or be cajoled out of depression; the thoughts are subsequent to the feelings!), but as (hopefully) the very mildest of analgesics.

i'm not a negative utilitarian. i don't think you can take all the bad and good things that happen to a person, assign them a numerical score, and subtract one from the other to determine whether their life was worth it after all. reading about rare medical abnormalities on wikipedia is itself sufficient to convince one there are certainly short lives full of nothing but pain. and observing people dying of degenerative diseases is enough to why there are points at which people make the rational decision not to continue living. but i also know that there are people who have convinced themselves their life is not worth living, because the pain of allowing themselves to be hopeful again, only to have to deal with crushing disappointment, makes it more reassuring to abandon hope altogether. and i have known people so trapped in the teeth of their suffering, they are unable even to do the one thing that may bring them some relief, until they make the conscious choice to believe that that feeling of despair is not in fact a reliable guide to truth.

we prefer certainty to hope; the sure knowledge we are doomed is often cognitively a lighter load than the uncertain possibility of future happiness. but i think it's worth it to keep hope alive. not because i am a sunny optimist who has never felt miserable, but because i have lost days, weeks, months, years to the blackest despair. i have spent many an hour carefully ruminating on the very clear and inarguably true things that made me feel that way, carefully laying out why life was not worth living and maybe never would be, specifically debunking all the bullshit people told me to try to counsel me out of my depression. and that feeling that was ironclad certainty in my mind at the time is, looking back, like a fading mirage. one should always at least consider the possibility that what feels to us like an immutable truth of our life is less substantial than it seems.

[grumpybunny-edith]

Furry HRT comics have been something my brain kinda constantly returns to over the last... since people started making them, and so just like anything else I'm really invested in, I feel like I need to analyze them as a phenomenon a little bit.

In some ways, I feel like the most popular formats of these comics are informed by a traditional or uncomplicated view of medical transition. Every character is presented as being able to get an appointment pretty simply, and all live in proximity to their endo. Their initial appointment usually sucks, but characters get what they're looking for and generally don't experience any more roadblocks. The meds people take are always compatible with them, and do not cause any unexpected or adverse side effects.

There's also the assumption in many of these comics that transition has a definite "end". There exists a point where a character is "done", more or less, which isn't accurate to transgender experiences and pushes some of the harmful narrative perpetuated by the medical system. This structure, as well as the fact that furry HRT generally functions more quickly than transgender HRT, is helpful to the format of the stories as short-form narratives, as it helps create a satisfying conclusion.

This is all great for what the format and narratives seem to be trying to convey. Even in amongst the body horror which is common to the narrative, which is in itself useful for exploring how something many view as horrible or uncanny (such as gender transition), they are stories about trans joy. They're about some of the adversity we face, finding happiness among that adversity, and sharing in it with our communities. They're also about finding an authentic self through a medical process that isn't seen in reality, and how regardless of how strange people find something, happiness and self love are what is most important.

But also, when I reflect on these narratives, I sometimes struggle to see myself in them. I'm a person who has spent her entire time medically transitioning dealing with shitty, non-fantastical roadblocks; and it's never the fault of a shitty doctor. Prescriptions take a long time to deliver, insurance doesn't wanna cover it, drugs don't work properly (or sometimes too well, and my doctor starts thinking I have a tumor in my brain), that kind of stuff.

And part of why this bums me out is that there's still so much joy there. It takes more work to love oneself when you spend a month or two off for every three months on, but it's a beautiful thing when you do. There's a whole side of the community engaging with things like DIY HRT, helping and looking after one another even when the medical system won't. There's also people microdosing HRT, either because they're unsure how they feel about it, or there's something in the "in-between" that feels right for them.

Of course artists should put to the page the stories that they want to tell. This post honestly was helping me do the same thing by orienting my thoughts. I'm just yearning for stories that feel a little bit closer to the life I've lived and noticing trends that feel reminiscent of the ways the system hurts us. I love and appreciate every single one of these stories and I hope people don't stop making them - there's so much uniquely trans joy to be had in them. I guarantee this isn't the last of what I have to say about the topic; there's too much here worth celebrating and reading closer.

[olderthannetfic]

I've read up about sensitivity readers as a service but something about it still feels off pouring to me? I get the concept and I guess on paper it's a noble cause, but idk if stories should be striving for "sensitivity" on the basis of a single reader/editor. Do you have any particular feelings or insight on the practice?

--

Sensitivity readers have been around for a while. When operating as intended, the practice is both good and not a big deal. They're just a cultural knowledge beta with a more inflammatory title.

The version that exists within a thousand miles of YA twitter and its ilk is a hot mess.

--

See, in the ideal circumstance, what these people should be is a paid editor who does a read for specific cultural gaffes.

They'd be working alongside the main editor who'd hopefully have time for developmental notes (okay, they never do this now, but ideally), copy editors, etc. A bunch of people are taking a look at this book before it goes out into the world. The sensitivity reader is merely more familiar with some particular area, probably their own cultural background, so they can spot things the rest of the editors and the author might miss.

It's just the more professional version of some dude writer being like "Hey, female friend, would you mind reading my manuscript and telling me what you think of the female characters?"

--

Now, near the cesspit of groupthink and intellectual incuriousity that is YA twitter and in other places like that, people have come to behave as though one sensitivity reader can read for everything, not just their own personal background. They talk as though there is one objective standard for whether something is offensive and as though causing offense is the worst crime in the world.

This attitude is poison, and it's how you get assholes passing themselves off as authorities on all ethnic strife ever, then writing cartoonish villains the minute they include a setting outside of the US.

(As a sidebar, it is deeply unsurprising to find that this jackass complained about women profiting off of m/m. Beware the people who think they personally are the unique arbiter of everything. It always devolves somehow into "Buy my book, not theirs".)

A lot of loudmouths desperately wish to do this work, always talking about it as though it's a beautiful opportunity to browbeat others for a lack of wokeness. It's always the biggest clowns too. (Mardoll, for example, while whining about the attack helicopter story.)

--

And yet, sensitivity readers exist outside of the toxic waste dump that is book twitter. I can see why the idea puts your back up, but it's time to unclench.

Yeah, one member of a minority is not the ultimate arbiter of what is Objectively Offensive Forever, but that's not actually a sensitivity reader's job. They're one set of feedback among various. There's no guarantee a copy editor will catch absolutely every typo either. If you had time for 5 sensitivity readers, maybe that would be useful, but it's probably more useful to pick someone you trust. Evaluating and paring down all the feedback you get is one of the major jobs of an author after all.

It's really no different than having a cop read over your crime procedural for silly Hollywood nonsense you didn't realize was false and a cliche.

We do this kind of double-checking over less fraught topics all the time without a problem. Writers just get very tense when they hear the term 'sensitivity reader' because it makes them think of mobs of wokescolds and of their book being secretly irredeemably racist. In reality, a good quality sensitivity reader might tell you that a joke doesn't land because of some cultural detail you missed. They're not there to harass you. They're a professional you hired to help with your book.

Sensitivity readers are fine as long as we treat them as what they are—cultural betas—and not as an official guarantee of Not Problematic And Can Never Offend Anyone.

[nrdmssgs]

How to not motivate your favorite author to write

So recently this happened to a very dear friend of mine. And then this happened. I'm not tagging her deliberately, to not drag her name into any shitshow. I love her dearly and will fight with tooth and claw for this person.

I will be referring to my personal experience not because I want to make this 'a story about precious me', but because I can guarantee, that overall pattern of creative process will go along with these examples, and I don't want to torture others with interviews on their particular creative process examples.

I want to address that anon and talk a bit about how creative processes work. I am not a writer, but I have two art degrees, so I just happen to know a thing or two about creativity and its ways in human brains.

How creative process differs from creative outcome

Imagine a situation: you roam around your favorite network and find this one cool author, that seems to create something especially for you. I like their characters, their storyline, their ways with the language and overall scenery. You and them seems like a match made in heavens. There is only one 'but': you crave more.

You find your perfect fic, you read every chapter and end on a painful cliffhanger, poor you? But what if I tell you, that to complete this chapter, your favorite author had to process a ton of information, their own suggestions, 'what ifs', questions around every single detail, different dialogue and action options? What you see is a perfectly cut ice cube, but it took a freaking iceberg to make it. By the way, the same goes for illustrations. Remember this short comix?

Well, it took a day to create it, and actually drawing it took only 4 hours. Another 8 hours were spent on concept. Here are just 2 pages of my ideas, and I have like 8 pages of this.

And sometimes authors don't even write down their draft thoughts, but it doesn't mean, these thoughts doesn't exist. We are thinking about our stories while going for groceries, driving a car, doing laundry, taking shower and so on.

So if you read something, that is one-page long - it doesn't mean, that your favorite author spent an average 'fill one page with text' time interval to create it. You are reading an outcome, while the author went through the entire creative process!

How creating one thing may help you to create another thing

Sometimes you need to practice, just to get to know a new character/situation.

I had such difficulties, writing Nikto, that I wrote this and this just to bring this marvelous character to the latest part of my ongoing series. Yes, it took me a month to figure out this character, but it was worth it. So please, bear with an author, that makes little attempts, before going back to their magnum opus. Sketches and renders can and will help them evaluate the story, that you`ve fallen in love with in the first place!

Sometimes you need a break.

If you thought, reading some angst was not easy - just know, that writing it was also not easy. Sometimes authors speak on deeply personal topics, sometimes they express their negative emotions through hard and draining scenes and stories.

And before you say 'oh, but the author knew in advance what is yet to happen' - let me remind you, that the author relieves everything, their characters go through.

Creating something completely knew helps author to gain powers, to take a step further, to breathe and calm down.

Sometimes you just feel like shit.

You wake up, revisit, what you wrote yesterday, and you hate it. And you hate yourself for setting the bar so low. And a very right thing to do at this moment is to get yourself distracted by something completely new. Or even to force yourself to not go back to creating for a bit, so that your 'creativity muscles' get some rest.

So please don't be disappointed by your favorite creator for paying attention to other media/fandom/story/character. It may be their way (long and complicated) to go back to that very work, you liked so much.

What doesn't motivate authors

Punching them with 'hey, stop whatever you're doing and go back to that thing, I LIKED'. This will only make your fave creator freeze in a cycle of self-hate, diffidence, art blocks.

Comparison of their works. "Your Ghost fics are top, so stop writing about Gaz and turn into a full time Ghost praiser". Again, this won't motivate your fave to change their writing habits or preferences, this will make them fill guilty every single time they create something against your preferences. That 10-30-50 sketches with Gaz will eventually help them go back and write something for Ghost!

[granulesofsand]

Ad for Music

(plus programming problems)

🗝️🏷️ programming, deprogramming, RAMCOA

We have a lot of epsiloned alters. There’s variety, I’ll give the perps that, but a lot of them respond automatically to a particular phrase.

It’s mildly inconvenient, because a single repetition draws out hundreds of alters and fragments. Most of them leave, but there are always at least a handful who stay and run through their response lists until another trigger hits.

🗝️🏷️ Examples below the cut

The phrase itself is obvious. “What are you?” It comes up surprisingly often in daily life. Granted, not in the I-suspect-you’re-a-vampire sense, but certainly on game nights and sometimes while causing mayhem.

And the most prominent answers are:

I’m not human

I’m not a person

I’m already dead

I’m not real

I am yours

I am evil

I am demonic

Please kill me

I am garbage

I don’t understand

Raccoon

I am (new name)

Your loyal dog

(animal sounds)

Nothing without you

I am alive

Notice how few of those are the thing the alter was shaped into? Almost all of those are from nonhuman alters. And once someone says it, the ones who don’t leave keep going. Continuously. For days, weeks.

Reading it doesn’t have the same effect unless we imagine it being said aloud. Imagining usually works as if it happened externally.

This is all to say I was reading fanfic and now I’ve reset the constant thrum of background negations. Every time. Please let me get some dopamine in peace, all I wanted was a wizard au.

If anymany needs solutions to a similar problem, some large systems can work through similar memories by dismantling the learned meaning of one instance. A lot of deprogramming depends on realigning your stance on memories.

For us, there are a few different programs causing this (maybe 2 or 3). We can rework all of them, and hopefully with less effort than therapy for everyone affected. They’ll get support internally, and with any luck our existing knowledge will be enough to help them.

There’s the problem of side effects, but some things come with a price. As they happen, we have the opportunity to climb those chains of command and eventually gain freedom there too.

It’s the combined power of cooperating alters each picking away at the behemoth. Like wearing trails into the earth or carving a sculpture. One bit at a time until we get results. It’s working, if slowly.

Some of us will burn through or get hurt as we go, and we do it anyway. I’ve been listening to Hamilton, and I agree.

I may not live to see our glory / But I will gladly join the fight / And when our children tell our story / They’ll tell the story of tonight (Hamilton, Story of Tonight)

As is typical, nobody will know what we did for our system. If we succeed, there is no guarantee everything will go as planned. We plan anyway.

Life doesn’t discriminate / Between the sinners and the saints / It takes and it takes and it takes / And we keep living anyway (Hamilton, Wait for It)

So, the moral of the story is programs suck and musicals contain your personal life story. Music is genuinely a great help in healing. It also drowns out the voices. Win-win here, use that internet connection to find some music.

[velvet-games]

intro post

I'll probably add more to/change this later; I've just needed an intro post for a while, and this is what I could think of. you should probably remind me to update it if this section is still here after like six months lol.

name/pronouns/age/gay shit~

honestly you can call me whatever, but I probably won't know you're talking about me unless you use vel/velvet.

prefer they/it; any pronouns are fine.

I'm probably non-binary I guess.

I'm an adult.

I basically just identify as queer at this point, but I'm like,, vaguely aroace-spec probably? still figuring it out. I'm actually very happy to talk about it more specifically, but I might have to sit you down for an entire day to explain it lol.

what I do/post~

I mostly post fandom stuff, and my original posts include a lot of art + occasional meta. I'm starting write fic too, so that might be a more regular thing in the future :)

other accounts~

@/velvetygames -- explicit nsfw twitter/x account, not very active

@cornerbytes -- old dragon prince account that I will probably revisit when the new season comes out

@/velvet_games -- ao3 account

nsfw~

I post occasional nsfw here (never super explicit; that's saved for my twitter); it'll be tagged #nsft.

fandoms~

current fandom: hazbin hotel

previous fandoms:

hannibal (will always have a very special place in my heart)

arcane (will revisit when the new season comes out)

ofmd (literally so happy this exists; devastated it's not getting a new season)

the dragon prince (will probably revisit when the new season comes out)

good omens

lotr (I also read like 2/3 of the hobbit and will hopefully finish it this summer lmao)

things in media that make me go insane (in a good way)~

friendship

happy endings

cannibalism

(WELL-WRITTEN) romance (THAT RESPECTS THE CHARACTERS AS INDIVIDUALS AS WELL AS WHO THEY ARE IN RELATION TO OTHERS)

surrealism

good visuals (even if everything else is shit; extra points if it's animation)

angst

fake-hating

this one's weird but I love situations where a character is really helpless; I thought I liked whump because I can be borderline sadistic about it sometimes, but whump is really not necessary at all to this concept

religious stuff, mythology, angels specifically for some reason (especially when they're terrifying and/or fallen)

gay people

requests~

you are welcome to send in ideas through comments, DMs, asks, etc., but I can't guarantee I'll draw them. if I don't, it doesn't mean that I don't like your idea; I'm probably just busy or have too many brainworms about a specific thing to draw anything but what's on my mind.

notes~

I randomly get really anxious about feedback on stuff sometimes lol, but I promise I read every single comment/tag and cherish them very deeply <33

also, like/rb spamming is totally fine and welcomed! I know some people don't like it, so I just wanted to make it clear that it's completely cool with me.

mutuals~

for a really long time, this was my pinned post, and it's still true! definitely welcome any interactions from mutuals <3

I do have a problem with randomly ghosting people though; I've been much better with it recently, but please try not to take it personally if I don't respond to DMs quickly. I'm probably just being insane and in my head about it. I'm really sorry.

misc~

this is an account that is purposely removed from my irl stuff; I'm here to have fun and relax on my mostly fandom-oriented blog.

I don't block often since I mostly meet nice people on here, but I am very happy to block accounts that make my experience on this app shitty.

I try to tag triggers when appropriate, but please let me know if you need me to tag anything I haven't.

art for me is just a hobby I use for fun and self-expression, so while I really appreciate concrit, keep in mind that my goal is ultimately to make stuff that makes me happy.

I am also very protective of young artists that get made fun of for being beginners or making unconventional art; you should never assume why someone is making art, and you especially should not assume that they are focused on becoming more skilled or making things that are beautiful to you. if they're not hurting anyone and you're not their target audience, get the fuck out.

I am of the mindset that media is not real, but that your reaction/the things you learn are. liking cannibal media does not make you a cannibal, but seeing bigoted portrayals of minorities can feed your biases (doesn't necessarily mean you can't consume it; does mean its effect on you/others irl should factor into if/how you decide to interact with it).

I'm vaguely fucked in the head. just keep that in mind.