*cough cough*
Ahem- I propose a new fanfic prompt for the fellow maze runner fans out there… Lando as Thomas and Oscar as Newt.
Would love to see someone do this with perhaps their own take or even copying it. Ending scene of Newt!Oscar becoming a crank quickly and then fighting, maybe you’d change the ending? Maybe you’d stick to it?
I don’t know… I’d just love to see more dystopian type fics out there and maze runner is my favourite. Plus- Newtmas should’ve been together and Newt deserved to live
If anyone ends up doing something like this, I’d love to know!
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Thinking about the symbolic weight of smoking in the TLT universe that comes to the fore in The Unwanted Guest -- the way it moves through from person to person: Pyrrha smoked, and Augustine wanted to impress her in all her stone cold fox MILF James Bond glory (and tbf who wouldn't) so he started too. and even though as far as he knows she's been gone for a myriad and is never coming back, he keeps the habit. Ianthe sees something in the hollowed-out Faberge eggshell of Augustine that resonates with her, all that gilded eloquent emptiness and disdain through the ages, so she picked it up from him to try to emulate it. She picked it up so hard that Palamedes -- the exact spiritual antithesis of the 'smoking! on a space station! what a powermove' ennui Ianthe so admired -- spontaneously unnerded enough to even known how to, simply from a sort of contact contamination of the soul.
G1deon and Augustine sharing a jittery smoke after their near-Harrow experience during soup night, and it's the closest thing to any real sense of brotherhood that remains between them. Pyrrha going ten thousand years dying both literally and for a smoke (and then Camilla sold her fucking cigarettes (for a third of what they were worth, probably Pyrrha's own good, and also more importantly grocery money). what an entirely haunted time to be alive etc.). Augustine and Mercy trading a cigarette back and forth in the middle of their collusion over the love and murder of god.
An act of small and measured self-destruction in the name of something a little bit like connection when you're stuck somewhere in yourself where love itself dares not or cannot tread (ritualized, transmissible)..........
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how does antiquing work in Star Trek?
like, okay, there's no scarcity Because Replicators. great! except you can't replicate an antique, not the real thing. probably some AMAZING reproductions- 24th-century historical costumers must be having the time of their lives, because as great as modern synthetic baleen is, imagine what you could do with a machine that literally replicates the exact molecular structure of the same! or that extinct flax that made medieval linen so great! -but I know antique collectors. there's nothing like the feeling of something you know so many other people have loved for centuries
is it like a barter system? do you go to the antique "shop" with things passed down in your family or found in the equivalent of a Facebook buy-nothing group, and trade what you have for what the history nerd running the place has based on your respective interests?
is Brimfield like a giant swap meet? could I go with, say...a big bag full of my grandmother's chunky 1950s costume jewelry and trade it for 1880s blouse waists because the stall owner wants the former and I want the latter? equivalent value wouldn't matter- what's value, beyond how much you treasure something? nobody's got rent to make or bills to pay, after all
do people become antiques "dealers" just for the thrill of the hunt and the pleasure of matching an object to someone who will love it? you don't have to work, after all; you can spend your whole life searching the world for rare treasures if that brings you joy
this is a nice thought
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your art makes me wanna start testosterone
i can't read tone well, so this is either an incredibly touching ask, or an extremely funny one, and in the absence of confirmation: both!
i'm in a chatty mood, so i'll share some thoughts about testosterone and my art.
i liked being on testosterone a lot. i had an IM injection every two weeks (on tuesdays!) and because that's a sizeable dose every 14 days that slowly disperses, it can cause some mood fluctuations (every other friday i would have a crisis about not feeling like the world had a place for me in it) but even those were far more manageable than the ones that would come with my previous and current monthly hormone cycle (every month i spend a solid week thinking the world will never have a place for me in it)
It gave me a patchy little bit of scruff on my chin and a whispy mustache under my nose that still struggles on, despite adversity!
It redistributed my fat a little bit, but that's long since gone back to pre-T shape.
it lowered my voice! that hasn't changed :^)! even if i never go back on t, that won't change. it was the thing i most wanted, and its the one i'm most grateful for. Pre-T, I didn't speak much. I'm getting better and better at talking and getting more and more comfortable communicating with people because of it.
having been off t now for 3 years, i don't pass anymore—not as a cis man, or a cis woman, certainly not as anything approximating straight. if people look at me and see anything, i'd hazard a guess that they see me as A Queer (the noun—for all it's complicated connotations).
i'm not surprised that my art might make somebody want to start testosterone! a lot of my art was made out of the aching grief that came with being kicked off of testosterone, and how neatly that loss of autonomy over my own body knits in with yamato's loss of autonomy over his own.
how my body started doing things i disliked, how i didn't have the support necessary to access the healthcare i needed—how my inability to give myself what i needed made me feel as though i were trapped inside of myself and abandoned (by both myself and the world at large)
when i write comics about yamato as a trans man, i don't take away his testosterone, because that hits a little too close to home for me. for Ninja War Town Reasons, he has plenty of access to all the HRT he could ever need and nobody questions his need for it—instead, i project my own horrors onto the way Danzō defined his identity for him as a child, the way that Kabuto and Obito dehumanize him as an adult in their war efforts, and reduce him to the thing his body holds (the Mokuton). I give him a kneejerk compulsion to dehumanize himself (out of a feeling that he has a duty to his community to do so) and I give him a slow-growing resistance to that impulse (which comes out of a feeling that the people he loves would frown upon seeing him reduce himself like that)
it's dysphoria! it's not gender dysphoria, but it's a loss of self, and a need to reclaim it. it's a war between the hollow shell of a thing he thinks he has to be, and the vibrant and messy person beneath it that he is. it's a desperate need to say "this is who i am—only i can say it"
I enjoyed HRT a lot. it was a really useful tool in helping me feel like my body was my own, that i didn't have to fight it, that we were the same entity. It's not the only tool, but it was a really good one, and one day I hope to use it again.
(as for the being off of it—it's unpleasant, but i'm enduring! being somebody who now doesn't really pass as anything has put me in a weird and interesting position, where I'm constantly having to declare myself to people, because nobody knows what to make of me on any front. they don't know if i'm a man, a woman, nonbinary, nor even what age i am (Augh!!!!) it forces me to be brave and vulnerable more than I'm comfortable with—if I tell somebody I'm a man, there's no way that they will believe I'm cis, but I'm not about to recloset myself—and I don't think I could at this point anyway.)
(there's something fascinating about the position i find myself in, and while i'd leap back on t the moment that an opportunity presented itself to do so, i do feel like i'm experiencing something interesting and important in this weird zone i find myself in)
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