#this ended up being really ranty near the end so sorry

[sobashahzadi]

as gen z’s I want all of you lovely lovely people to teach children about how some people wear different things and look a bit different from them and that it’s okay

because tell me why I was in Penneys just now with my sister, just browsing through the jewellery (im wearing an abaya, not covering my face just hijab because I didn’t feel like getting all dressed to go shopping so I slipped on my abaya to make it easier before I headed out)

my sister however is much younger than me and looks like any other kid, I walk towards this rack of jewellery, where 2 children and their mother I’d say are talking excitedly about something, tbh idrc I just wanted a look at those flower earrings I spotted and this kid, a little boy, goes silent, instantly shuts his mouth and looks up at me terrified,

like sir, what did I do? He looks so genuinely upset and scared to be seeing me, his mom isn’t saying anything and neither does his sister until I get uncomfortable and try talking to my sister about the jewellery so they know I don’t mind them being there, eventually I feel so bad that I’m scaring this kid so much that I move out of the isle.

I don’t blame the kid at all, (only a bit, because that side eye was fucking nasty) but the parent should’ve continued talking or just moved them or even told them not to stare? Like mind u these are the most white Irish kids ever but ye okay they should know other people but themselves exist.

I don’t know if they’re uneducated, Islamophobic, internally racist, or just scared of me because I’m not pretty, like literally at times like that I wish I was born prettier so strangers around me wouldn’t have to be so uncomfortable when I dress in my culture, because I see pretty people in public being praised for that but I always feel shamed.

anyways rant over, educate your kids

[heavy-lobster]

POST THE FUCKING ESSAY KOAL/DUSTY I SWEAR TO GOD

WAIT I THOUGHT YOU READ IT ALREADY??? DID I SERIOUSLY NOT SEND IT TO YOU WHEN I INITIALLY FINISHED IT??? GOD WHAT THE FUCK

Well I can’t NOT post it now.

So for some background, the assignment was to write a short essay arguing as to why a children’s series of our choosing could be classified as horror, based on some article we had to read. I chose Wow Wow Wubbzy because I thought it would be funny and. man. So anyways this is VERY poorly written because I did most of it between like,,, midnight and 3 am. It’s very ranty and way longer than it needed to be. For ease of reading I went back and fixed up the shitty formatting and fixed a few spelling errors, as well as linking my sources.

So uhhh this is about horror so,, warning for horror ig?? It’s not scary like, at all, but better safe than sorry.

Wow! Wow! Wubbzy!: The Horror Within

Introduction

“Wow! Wow! Wubbzy!” is an American TV show originally aired on Nick Jr. From the mind of Bob Boyle, this educational kid’s show was very memorable for a lot of kids growing up at that time. The show features Wubbzy, a yellow, square, animalistic character, with a curly, “springy” tail; as well as Wubbzy’s various friends. Most episodes feature Wubbzy and his pals, Widget and Walden (as well as Daizy in later episodes), dealing with an every day situation, or well, depends on your definition of “every day”. The situation spirals out of control because of the actions of various characters, and it is resolved by the problematic character of the episode learning a lesson and fixing their mistake. Seems like a typical kids show, right? Well, there may be more to it than that. What if I told you that Wow! Wow! Wubbzy! could be interrupted as a horror show about horrifically mutated beasts struggling to survive the post apocalyptic world they are forced to inhabit? Wow! Wow! Wubbzy! fits many categories described in Sharon A. Russell’s literary criticism in “What is the Horror Genre?”. In this essay we will discuss how Wow! Wow! Wubbzy! could possibly be classified as a horror series.  

Asking the real questions; what is everyone?

First of all, a very important question. What exactly are the characters? There are claims that Wubbzy himself is some kind of gerbil, but frankly I don’t see it. Also, what’s the deal with the inhabitants of Wuzzleburg in general? Wubbzy and his friends are supposed to be anthropomorphic animals, but they seem more like horrific monsters, mutated from normal animals. Monsters are a very common and important element in horror. Not all monsters are vicious killers, and not all of them are obvious in appearance. Some monsters are small and cute, but it’s almost always a facade. 

There are also some “regular” animals running around, but yet they aren’t “normal” by any stretch of the imagination. Some are very obviously not normal, others seem mostly normal. “Flutterflies” are a common, non-anthro animal seen in Wubbzy, with their most prominent appearance being in the episode “The Flight of the Flutterfly”. Flutterflies seem like normal butterflies, but why are they called “Flutterflies” instead? Are they in any way different to the butterflies of our world, or is that just what the inhabitants of Wuzzleburg call butterflies? What about the more blatantly odd non-anthro animals? In “Attack of the 50 Foot Fleegle” Wubbzy acquires a pet “Fleegle”. It appears to be a small, purple, almost hamster like creature. It remains small and happy if you feed it the right kind of food, but Wubbzy foolishly feeds it candy and sweets. When fed candy, the Fleegle increases in size in increasingly large increments. After a time, it becomes so big that it rampages all over Wuzzleburg. The only thing that could shrink it back to normal size was carrot juice. When fed bologna, they multiply, and the solution to this is unknown, as the episode ends there and this is never brought up again. 

There are plenty of strange animals, both anthropomorphic and not; yet no humans. Not a single human character in sight. This begs the question, what happened? Why are all these animals how they are? What happened to the humans? Obviously, these questions were never answered, as this is a kids show. Here is a thought to consider: what if all the humans are dead, and all the characters are mutant abominations, or, monsters as they’d more fittingly be called. Humans have been wiped out, and the animals who survived mutated in many different ways. Some animals became intelligent, and capable of building their own society similar to what once was our own. That society is what we know as Wuzzleburg. In conclusion, all the creatures seen in the show are the result of something terrible; mutated abominations passing as animals. This fits the “monster” category of horror as described in Russell’s article.

What’s the deal with Wuzzleburg?

Wow! Wow! Wubbzy! takes place in the fictional town of Wuzzleburg. Wuzzleburg and its surrounding locations look very odd. Everything is unnaturally geometric. Everything- from houses to trees- is very odd in appearance. Tree branches are often bendy, always at a right angle, with the edges being smooth and rounded. In Wuzzleburg, many houses look like completely normal houses, yet Wubbzy lives in a tree house. Another common thing is that houses and buildings of importance are usually designed based on a specific object. Daizy’s house, for example, is shaped like a flower. 

Outside of Wuzzleburg, the locations only get weirder. There is an island, shown to be somewhere off the coast of Wuzzleburg, called “Dino Island”. As the name suggests, this island is inhabited by dinosaurs. So apparently, dinosaurs are not extinct in this universe; at least on this island. As far as other towns go, there is Wuzzlewood, clearly based on Hollywood, where all the biggest celebrities in the Wubbzy cinematic universe (WCU) live. Everything in Wuzzlewood is covered in stars, a clever spin of the celebrity theme. Another interesting location is Plaidville. In Plaidville, everything is plaid; the trees, the ground, and even the inhabitants. I don’t have to explain what is unnatural about that. 

Now, back on the topic of Wuzzleburg, since it is the main location seen in the show, and is where Wubbzy and his friends live. It has been stated that Wuzzleburg was founded in 1853 by “Heinrich van Wuzzle”. The specific year being given is an odd detail, that you wouldn’t normally expect in a show of this nature. Wuzzleburg is clearly a town in every sense of the word. It has plenty of stores and restaurants, an airport, houses, residents, a mayor, a rich history, annual festivities, reliable transportation, schools, and even a stable economy. All of this being made by what we have already established as horrific monsters. That’s impressive. There is common debate in the Wubbzy fandom on whether these locations are in a parallel universe, or perhaps if they exist on our Earth. In the episode “Fly Us To The Moon”, the place where they land back on “Earth” appears to suggest that Wuzzleburg is located somewhere in or near Washington state, in America, or possibly somewhere in British Columbia. 

My theory is that the events of Wow! Wow! Wubbzy! takes place on Earth, but certainly not our Earth. An alternate Earth, where humans may have lived before. Some horrible nuclear accident wiped out all human life, and caused all the animals to mutate into the many strange creatures of the WCU. This also explains the unnatural features of the setting. Post-apocalyptic Earth? Sounds like a perfect horror setting to me. This fits perfectly with the criteria described in Sharon’s article.

The beast within; Wubbzy’s true villain

Finally, the matter of the deep internal conflict hidden deep within the show. In the show, you can expect every episode to have a lesson or moral, as many kids shows do. Most episodes feature one of the main characters (almost always Wubbzy) making a mistake, followed by them learning the lesson of the episode and using their newfound knowledge to make things right. What if I told you that this is sign of a much deeper internal conflict going on far beneath the character’s cute exterior? Would it be so far fetched to believe that every episode is focused on the anthropomorphic abominations struggling to fight against their beastly instincts? Their own organized and civilized society goes against their very nature, and they constantly fight to uphold the standards they set; both for themselves, and each other. It's a constantly uphill climb. Wubbzy is undeniably a flawed character. He messes up constantly, often learning the same lessons over and over again, as if it’s more of a reminder than a lesson. It’s Wubbzy against himself. This fits Sharon’s criteria of internal horror, but that’s not all. 

Wow! Wow! Wubbzy! is also the story of a quest for self improvement, as well as a good vs evil scenario, which are two of Russell’s other criteria. I mean, think about it. Every character is open to self improvement once they realize the harm they’ve caused. Every character is on their own quest, seeking to better themselves. Every character is going through their own internal battle. They fight their own flaws. Their own evils. The true villain of Wow! Wow! Wubbzy! is the evil within all of them, the beastly instincts lurking within all of Wuzzleberg’s monster inhabitants. And they may not always be perfect, maybe they don’t know how to be “good”, maybe being good just isn’t in their nature; but they try their best despite all the challenges, to be better, and improve themselves. 

In that way I think we can all relate to them. We aren’t always “good”, we aren’t perfect, sometimes we don’t know how to do the “right” thing, but our flaws are what make us human. It may not be in our nature to be flawless, but it is in our nature to seek self improvement, and that’s what Wubbzy is really about. The struggles we all go through to be better people, because inside? We’re all just monsters trying our best to be civil, and conform to our moral code. And really? That’s enough. 

Conclusion 

Wow! Wow! Wubbzy! is undeniably a kid’s show at heart, but if you really stop to analyze it, you find a much darker horror series. It would be fittingly classified as a psychological horror. It fits almost all of Sharon A. Russell’s criteria as described in the article “What is the Horror Genre?”. What is Wubbzy? In fact, what are all of the show’s characters? Their vaguely animal appearance appeal to young children, but I believe that they may actually be normal animals mutated into horrible monsters. Freaks of nature created by a nuclear incident. There is not a single human seen in the show, but plenty of abnormal creatures. This suggests that we are long gone. The monsters we left behind built their own society.

 Not only were the animals affected, but also the earth itself. The odd nature of the setting supports my nuclear devastation theory. Finally, is the true conflict of Wubbzy. The show itself is about nuclear monsters trying their best to adapt to the society they built for themselves, even if it goes against their own nature. It’s beasts on a quest where the only objective is the betterment of the self. An internal conflict. There is no physical villain in the show. The only antagonist out to get Wubbzy, is Wubbzy himself. In that way, I think we can all relate. In conclusion, Wow! Wow! Wubbzy! is actually about horribly mutated animals fighting their inner demons, on a metaphorical journey to be better than they are. For that very reason, I believe it could be interrupted as a horror series. 

Sources: 

Wubbzy Wikipedia page

Wubbzy Fandom Wiki, which I did NOT know existed before this project and honestly the comments on the page were the funniest fucking thing, I highly recommend it

And uhhh various episodes of Wubbzy I had to watch

I apologize for my crimes

[autumn-foxfire]

Yeah horikoshi gets really fucking creepy with all that stuff. If you ask me i dont even care about what the consent age is, im a 22 year old and I would find it wierd to date someone whos 18 cuz like they are just out of high school they are babies. Like i instantly mistrust anyone who ships large age gaps (cough cough endhawks) n says but they are both adults

Like if one of them is just out of high school n the other is a grown ass working adult they are not on the same level

If one of them is a college age and the other is nearing their 50s they are not on the same level

It just stinks of someone who is a full adult fishing for someone younger to date because young ppl will put up with more shit than adults and are still rather impresionable so easier to make them exactly what you want. Basiclly if a middle aged person is hitting at a young adult think carefuly why they arent going for someone their own age who would have a lot more in common with them

In my opinion ppl should really sure how much expirience and life a character has behind them then just saying well its ok they are both adults when one person literally just left highschool

Sorry about that ranty age of consent ask it just pisses me off, i remember when i was reading this book n a pair had a six year difference

Now alarm bells might be going off but its kinda worse

I dont rememver correctly cuz i supressed it but im p sure these two met when one of them was 16 n the other was 10

Fucking ten

And then as soon as the younger one hits 17 (the other one being 23 now n having a job) immidietly the younger one starts flirting with the older in all kinds of sexual ways n the older is like uhoh hiw do i say no to this

n then they start dating n the older guys ex (who was his age) was all wierded out cuz he was dating a teen but somehow they just brush it off as soulmates or something????? bRO IF U KNOW THIS IS WRONG N ULL SAY ITS WRONG IN UR TEXT WHY DO U WRITE it

Anyway i stopped reading halfway through n never picked it up again despite the book being about gay werewolves aka it couldnt be more of my jam if it tried

A friendship broke on that book too cuz i went to vent to my friend cuz i was borderlune triggered n while i was trying to vent he kept saying oh but its not pedophila cuz the other guy is 17 n some just like it younger until i was like u know i cant deal with u rn n dropped him

I hope you don’t mind me adressing all of this in one ask!

Eh... Playing devils advocate here and as someone who is also 22 but living with a bunch of 18/19 year olds (I’m the oldest I think or second oldest as I know there’s another girl who’s 22 too) I can say that their really isn’t that much different in our maturity. I have more life experience then them, sure, but at this age they’re old enough to go to university and choose the degree they’re studying, vote and drink (in the UK) so they’re not exactly immature either. I don’t think we should underestimate 18 year olds.

However, I know 18 year olds can also be dumb. There’s probably a reason fresher week exists and that’s to allow these dumb 18 year olds to have their first taste of what true freedom is like but still get to act immaturely before they have to buckle down for university.

And so I probably wouldn’t be too uncomfortable with an 18 year old dating someone who is 22 but I’d probably get more uncomfortable as that age gap rises because the difference in experience continues to increase. But still, as adults it’s up to them who they get to date, we’ve just got to trust and support them (and maybe be there for them if it does end badly).

But I’m personally really uncomfortable with romantic ships like Endhawks for more then just the age gap because as you said, with the age gap come the gap in life experience too. Also Endeavor, as Hawks hero, has a power dynamic over Hawks that I’m not necessarily comfortable with (especially with Endeavor’s past history of abuse, even if I don’t think he would be abusive towards him) too and usually it’s a power dynamic you see a lot in age gap relationships (the older person being more “mature” and so the younger should listen to them which can be a recipe for disaster if the older person turns out to be abusive).

Also... that book, I can see why it makes you uncomfortable. The 17 year old doesn’t sound mature enough to be in a relationship with anyone, really (waiting until you age so you can flirt with someone rather then actually maturing and becoming your own person... It just sets a bad image). It’s strange though, say they lost contact but met each other when the younger was 20/21 and the older was 26/27, I wouldn’t have an issue with their relationship. I guess because the younger has reached a point where they’re completely classed as an adult and have more life experience behind them which won’t be too different from their older partner.

But as you said, the book seemed to acknowledge that the 17 year old teen wasn’t mature enough for his partner and people also were against the relationship because of the age different. While it’s not technically wrong, it just doesn’t seem like a right or healthy relationship.

I’m sorry to hear it affected a friendship with someone though.

[ghostmartyr]

But will 6 chapters be enough to aside from stopping Eren and finding a solution that doesn't involve genocide, also show us what's Historia thinking, that 104th's Ymir is alive and my YumiHisu ending ? Isayama better not disappoint me or else I'll cry

I think I have too many ranty promises about what I’ll do if I’m disappointed, so in the scheme of really not wanting to do things, here’s hoping for a satisfying ending that makes literally only me happy.

Storyboard time.

By which I mean fanfic, but really really lazy fanfic where I put zero effort into any real plot. There is some stuff that could arguably be taken seriously, but no. Effort not found.

130 ends volume 32, which means things are allowed to happen. Not necessarily that they will. We arrive at Odiha, and our heroic motley crew gets to discussing where Eren could possibly go.

(If the manga thinks finding the giant stegosaurus is a problem it gets to be a problem okay.)

Odiha conversation progresses to the point of someone threatening to break Yelena’s arm, and Yelena finally admits that even without Eren sharing this specific part of the plan, he had shown some interest in one of Zeke’s contingencies.

Interspersed with this is shots of the torched Marley coastline, and maybe some of the screaming people, including the refugees everyone partied with. Stego-Eren is off in the distance, and we pan even further out to a freckled figure watching the new horizon from a cell. Insert dialogue here about more nightmares.

131, start of volume 33. Let’s open on Shiganshina, with casual soldiers talking about what went down at the port, and telling off random civilians from getting too close to Eren’s ground zero. NPC Farmer Guy, aka a suspiciously tall blond man, is walking around through most of the shots of the soldiers continuing to talk current events. If you look closely, sometimes the blond guy is accompanied by a short woman.

Odiha side plot is still ongoing, with top tier Mikasa moments because my city now. They get the airship prepped by the end of the chapter, but have solved no problems. Connie has punched Yelena, and Falco is wondering next to Armin what it must be like, to be able to undo being a Shifter.

A few pages cover freckled Ymir reading Marley’s propaganda history books in some prison. Lingering shots on the relevant imagery while the sound effects reach peak rumble.

Back in Shiganshina, the weird blond guy is wandering around still, but is missing his iconic hat. The soldiers decide to finally tell him to get lost. Insert ominous comment about how his work here is done, anyway.

We hit the last few pages with Ymir’s prison being War Hammered, the face of Stego-Eren specifically lowering to glower at her.

At the same time, a different blond guy, now in possession of NPC Farmer Guy’s hat, is being dragged through the streets of Shiganshina by shorty.

Last page is a spread with both scenes, with one dialogue bubble telling the unmoved Ymir and unconscious Zeke that they don’t get to quit just yet.

132. The airship is probably up in the air at some point somewhere around here, but we’re not here to be overly particular. This installment mostly belongs to Zeke and Ymir. Ymir has no idea what Eren’s deal is, except that he’s the guy who announced the quality idea of killing everyone, but he’s made a point of retrieving her and killing none of the people in the prison except by falling rocks. He’s not putting on a good show of knowing how to do any of this. She’s not going to turn down being left alone, but following him along on his journey to wherever with nothing to do is proving very boring. Talking at him is as well. Eren is distinctly not in the mood for talking.

On the other side, Historia’s having the same problem with Zeke. He’s basically trapped himself in the same mode Reiner falls into after his Liberio talk with Eren. It’s not obvious unless you look closely, and with the state of Paradis, no one is looking that closely. Though some people do offer to give the poor young pregnant lady some supplies. Historia politely takes every advantage, and makes sure to hide Zeke’s face whenever someone in uniform walks by.

It’s a traveling chapter, and all the travelers look pretty drained. Toss the dice over the specifics, but near the end of the chapter, Zeke finally starts to come back to something resembling consciousness. Enough to ask why Historia’s even bothering, when everything’s ruined.

“But you’re still standing. Someone with a will like that shouldn’t be giving up.”

Zeke asks if that’s what she plans on telling her condemned child. She gave up the second she agreed with Zeke’s plan, and motives don’t excuse what she has already done to it.

By this point all pretense of putting up with Zeke is gone, and Historia takes out a knife.

Instead of slashing his throat, she drives it into her stomach, and pulls out nothing but fluff through the hole in her shirt.

She announces that Zeke’s plan hasn’t been running this show for a while, now, so he might as well get up and start walking instead of making her carry him the rest of the way.

133. Flashbacks. Not all of them, but enough to cover Historia’s end. Years ago, she thought she saw a dead future. Every year that's gone by without the vision coming true has felt like a gift she can’t accept. Killing Eren would have stopped all of it, and she’s still the one who chose to save him. Because regardless of the future, the person saying he never should have happened was someone she needed to protect. This is what she does. She rescues anyone who thinks they’re beyond hope.

That includes her, it turns out.

Through her perspective, we see her and Eren both starting to spiral, just a little. They can’t see a way out. It finally comes to a head once Eren’s approached by Yelena, and indirect details about Ymir makes Eren feel compelled to have an information sharing/apology session with Historia.

Enter the memory shard. Historia admits that she’s seen Eren’s role in her family’s deaths. She’s known for a while, along with what he’ll do, and, well. Sorry for not saying anything. Eren is visibly fracturing, and being the enemy of humanity is starting to sound pretty good. He wonders out loud if this is fate.

That’s the turning point.

If it is, they’ll change it.

Back in the present, Historia is still with Zeke. Who’s awake, even though he’s looking at her like she’s a monster. Historia makes the point that he’s always searched for a way to end this world. His method’s out, but they’re still here. If she has to drag him along, she will, but him going along with everything would be easier on both of them.

134. This is where everything has to explode, because it would be the end of volume 33. We still don’t have much of Eren’s perspective. Team Airship knows very little except that he’s been overly curious about Ymir, who’s alive for some reason, and also in where the original Eldia began.

Team Airship is avidly chasing after Eren, who is Stego-Eren and easy to track. Shocking. Eren’s perspective begins to have flashbacks.

Ymir still has no idea why she’s here.

Falco has her memories, and the closer the airship gets, the more Ymir is like... wait... do I know this genocidal bastard? Things be trippy.

Airship gets to Eren as Eren finds the spot with the primordial ooze. Directed to it by both Ymirs; one who’s been there before, and one whose only memories include a cult who wished they’d gotten to go there.

World goes back to black and the giant tree, and Mikasa has one last look at Eren before things go really weird.

135.

EREN RUNS UP A HILL AND MAKES A DEAL WITH GOD.

More Eren flashbacks establishing sense.

Historia and Zeke are hanging in the Reiss cavern, as the other point on the planet with the most concentrated Plot Magic. They’re the last two links to OG Ymir, and OG Ymir’s deal with whatever is what’s led them here. She started this story, and with Eren as a vehicle, she’s the one who gets to end it.

Via some complicated ritual, you have Historia and Zeke, who are the OG Ymir’s truest flesh; you have Eren, bearing the OG Titan as well as the Attack and War Hammer; you have freckled Ymir, who is a Titan returned to her humanity; you have the uncaring ooze, who looks at all this and is like, why did you disturb my slumber wtf have you all been doing to this child I made a demigod.

Primordial ooze hears a request, and remakes the world.

136: WOW THAT SURE ALL HAPPENED.

Whatever happens in 135 is addressed, and we all get to spend a few final, treasured moments with the cast. The end.

This is a cop-out.

Because I do not actually know what mechanics are going to be at play.

I’m going with the Madoka option of the world being changed, but with the added bonus of Historia and Zeke acting as a conduit for the memories of the original world, so they don’t fade out. The curse is lifted, and Eldians can no longer be forcibly transformed. Throw in a little, “everyone in the world is now patched into Paths, and Historia and Zeke are absolutely going to use that to convince folks that war ain’t it, chief.”

Eren went into the ooze chamber, and OG Ymir is what walked out. Mikasa puts Eren’s scarf around her.

And obviously, as part of the memory resorting, freckled Ymir gets her memories back from Falco, and has a promise to keep.

Give me an extra two chapters and I could even it out a little better.

Really, I do not know what is going to happen, and that throws a wrench in any and all speculation. There is a singular, “what is it all leading up to?” X marks the spot eureka moment that I do not have where the main plot is concerned. As far as I can tell, Eren’s made such a mess that I don’t think there is any good way to repair it. Mass Madoka powers feel like cheating, considering all everyone’s been through, but without a magical rework of the world, Eren has had a net negative effect on Paradis’ everything, deepening the cycle of hatred, and that’s where the curtain closes.

So I might joke about no effort going into this, but more honestly it’s that I feel like the important parts have to be deliberately vague, because I have yet to come up with something that works well as an ending.

In any case, you can do a lot in six chapters. Especially if you go pure id on it.

[song-of-amethyst]

@books-and-doodles​ replied to your post “Finished Assassin’s Fate”

Oh really sorry to hear that. To me it is one of the most perfect endings I ever read even though the book had a lot of inconsistencies. I can't think of a better ending than Fitz and the Fool finally merging together and stay that way for all eternity. I think Robin Hobb managed to tie everything very well even if she seemed to have forgotten some stuff.

I’m glad that you are satisfied with it!! Well, my complaints are not exactly with the plot, but... almost everything else. That event did not upset me, but its writing, and what lead to it upset me a lot. I think I’ll just post a somewhat ranty review (though please don’t mind the negativity because although I focus on it, there are still many positive things I’m just not mentioning), mostly on what bothered me about the Fool/Fitz/Nighteyes thing. But below the cut, of course.

One thing is, the characterization was so off I wanted to cry. Nighteyes is... Not Nighteyes at all. Calling people by their human names, using human concepts to explain things, and his farewell to Kettricken made me cry but it sounded like a human friend talking to her. Even his jabs at Fitz were not funny, they just felt cruel, because even if he was sassy, Nighteyes had been so tender with him, and so comforting. It upset me, and it upset me the most that he calls Fitz Fitz, and not Changer. Just the fact that he uses human names and concepts to explain what he wants strips a big part of who he is.

And Fitz. Fitz had always been frustrating, I’d always said he was an idiot. But never to this extent; my saying he was stupid was contextual (mostly when it comes to relationships) and truly, it was more a way to cope with his eternal angsting, and to seeing him make emotional choices instead of rational ones. Here, it wasn’t even that; he isn’t a smart dumbass anymore; he is indeed an imbecile. He was just, incredibly bland, I could not understand him, and this Fitz I would not have liked as a character. He hears facts and forgets them two seconds later. It’s not being stubborn by this point, he is just unwilling to reevaluate his situation and get a new attitude, so he keeps believing and suggesting completely obsolete plans and facts that were supposedly dealt with in many occasions. It’s not only his understanding of Amber and who Beloved is in Fool’s Quest that is simply discarded for no reason at all. It is also his refusal to just see the simplest hint, to consider the most obvious details... He feels like a caricature, not like Fitz. The story never advances, he is always stuck at the same place, having the same conversations, gaining nothing from them. He doesn’t get any kind of development, not intellectual, not emotional, nothing at all. This book was not the journey to wisdom Assassin’s Quest was, nor the journey towards internal peace and unconditional love Fool’s Fate was.  Bee is a valid protagonist in this trilogy. Fitz just starts in a random place and goes nowhere. Being royalty fits him well though, and his relationship with Nettle is absolutely lovely. I regret he never got to see Hope, but I had guessed he would never.

And Beloved... Well he fared better than the two others to be sure, thanks to the lack of his pov, and to me being so distracted by my interest in his backstory to really care about how he acts. But the deceptiveness, the individual initiatives, and the endless, stupid quarrels with Fitz were not the best build-up towards what was supposed to be the series’ climax. So much for the “This is our last hunt, old wolf. And as we have always done, we go to it together.“ Sometimes the book gives promises and fulfills none of them. I hated that the extreme cruelty he was subjected to did not move me anywhere near how his fate in the Tawny Man trilogy did. God, Fool’s Fate gutted me and I wanted to hug him and cry with him and protect him forever. But in F&F, it was unncessarily graphic, and shallow. Graphic cruelty for shock value only works for so long before it feels cheap, and I hated that by some point, I was trying hard to make myself care. At first it was incredibly shocking, because this is Beloved and because the descriptions were genuinely terrible, and then it fades, and tales of past trauma become so casual and I can’t bring myself to care because I don’t see one good reason for this writing. I don’t see what it adds, how this is a good choice for developing a character, given his past;  extreme horror can’t replace genuine empathy. Of course I still felt bad for him, for how he was treated in his childhood, and everything. But you can’t abuse a character so much without cheapening the experience. Fitz telling the Fool in Golden Fool that he hadn’t been giving him flowers made me hurt for him, for both of them, more than any of this did; that Golden Fool quarrel is the stupidest ever, but also the best written one, because there you see how much they care for each other and how deeply hurt and lonely it makes them.

Often, it is this bittersweet mix of hurt and comfort that is moving, but hurt without comfort is painful at first, and then simply numbing. Fool’s Fate had already had a very extreme degree of hurt, and that reaction from Fitz and the comfort he offered was just as extreme, so there was that perfect, sad, bittersweet balance. Not a balance in the sense that they cancel each other, no, rather that they bring out the deepest emotion from each other. And that brings me to my main point, which is that Fitz/Fool in this trilogy was incredibly anticlimactic. Anything would have been anticlimactic after Fool’s Fate, after they’d literally merged and broken all limits, after Fitz gave his name and his life and told the Fool he could take them and live them if he couldn’t bring him back. After they’d mended everything and forgiven each other and called each other many tender names. (let’s not forget that time Fitz cried out “Beloved Fool! No!” in front of everyone when he thought the ice was going to bury the Fool.) F&F never reached again that level. Now I want to say that the Fool and Fitz’s relationship is by no means linear. Every trilogy has its own climax for them, and after each separation they lose a big part of it, but they are nonetheless fatefully attracted to each other and learn to know each other again and reach a new level of understanding. And in each case it is not “better” than the time before. Their ease with each other, their foolish games and the perfect link in Assassin’s Quest never comes back. In Fool’s Errand, their separation has been long, the link between them had gone weaker, and the Fool could’t hear Nighteyes anymore. And then Fitz in his loneliest times feels he had been excluded from the Fool’s life during their separation and it leads to conflict and ugly words. Their relationship isn’t as effortless as it had been when they were teenagers and they could include each other as easily as breathing; now they exclude each other without meaning to, and it makes no one happy. But there was something more mature in it, and it evolved, and they reached a new state of closeness that is not what it was  but that is different. And it was carefully, so carefully built-up. There was the highly emotional reunion, the honey moon phase, then problems, secrets, quarrels, loneliness, apologies, frail peace, walking on egg-shells, efforts to patch things up, return of the ease between them, intimate fellowship, they’re back together, common enemy appears, Fitz chooses the Fool’s goal instead of Chade’s, climax of hurt/comfort/love declaration. So given that nonlinearity, I can understand that they will be distant, that their relationship won’t be like what should’ve been after F’sF, that over two decades of literally no news will do damage. I don’t mind that, as long as they find again a new place of comfort. But I mind that Assassin’s Fate never showed such an emotional connection, that we had a long summary of the non-Fitz books instead of character/ship development. I’m bothered by how it discarded what their “complicity” could do, because in their team, there hadn’t seemed to be any special closeness between Fitz and the Fool, any task that they had to do together for some reason or another. There was Fitz and Lant, sometimes Per. Amber and Spark. Fitz and the Fool didn’t have anything special just for them, except that last healing to send the Fool and Bee out of the tunnel. Funny that the first time I glimpsed a bit of their old relationship was when Fitz was dying. 

And the end... Well. Again. I don’t exactly hate the event of it. The three of them, together and immortal as the Wolf of the West is fitting, as Nighteyes said, it had been foreshadowed since Assassin’s Quest that Fitz would die in stone. Nighteyes had said it that the Fool belonged with the two of them, like no other did. That was the logical conclusion. But the terrain wasn’t ready, the writing hadn’t taken us there yet. Nighteyes/Fitz/Fool lacked the development in this trilogy for that end. That’s the only end I would have wanted, but as we say, not like that. Yes, it would’ve meant a lot to me if it were more dignified, and more private; more in the spirit of the characters who had always been the heroic trio in the shadows, and I needed them to focus on each other, that kind of intimacy that couldn’t be shared with viewers. We saw nothing of the Fool going inside, just. Bee’s pov. I feel there should have been a beautiful emotional connection of the three of them, I wish we could’ve seen it. But then Forged!Fitz’s pov was... I don’t know how to say it, but I didn’t like it. That’s not what I wanted for a climax (or an external pov), that’s not a writing I could be satisfied with. And it was too short. It truly gave the impression that those memories didn’t matter. It made me cry for sure; whenever Fitz put something in the wolf he was putting my heart in as well. But. But. Fitz’s narration’s most important aspect was emotional; if he wasn’t going to gut me with every sad and happy thing he’d ever lived and instead state them apathetically, well, I’m somewhat disappointed.

And even then, the whole thing with Beloved didn’t feel right. You can’t just say things like “As if he hadn’t always known he was loved the best. That he was the Beloved.“ and... Not give us a good Fitz pov after. 

... I think it’s just that Fool’s Fate set the bar too high after all. That was the climax I would have preferred to the series.

Of course I don’t hate the book. There were events I was very satisfied with. Some parts of the book dragged on, some were okay. Mostly, Bee’s pov was okay. Fitz’s pov was good when he did something. Which was not often; I admit I was supremely bored when chapters were just about Fitz discovering details of the Liveship Traders trilogy and Rain Wild Chronicles. Mostly, I think too little happened in this trilogy, compared to the previous two. And too many plot tools were planted and then abandoned. Verity and Bee? Verity claiming Fitz just as a real dragon would? Can Verity live as a dragon if he gets enough Silver? Jofron’s messengers? Chade’s accident in Fool’s Assassin? The list goes on. There are too many events that seem random or underexploited to me.

[shardclan]

A Moment in the Summerlands

High noon rises and finds Analemma in silence. Noon Point stands empty, the merchants warned away, and the residents taking shelter in their homes. The eternal scent of steaming milk from the Happy Harpy Creamery, the one constant through even the darkest depths of winter, is absent.

Rebis stares down at the figure of Malu, sedated and physically restrained to the infirmary bed. Dust is at he side. She has left him only infrequently since bringing him there. Both share the same grim expression. Both are awaiting the inevitable.

"Enamor," Lavi had explained. "The single most basic skill in the entirety of light magic. A brief skill of captivation, something to make your enemy forget to speak their spell. It goes ignored a lot. But here we are, with an astral who has effectively taken it to the outer limits. To enthrallment."

Even Ashlesha had been too afraid to stay. His words blurted and near-panicked, were still fresh in Rebis' mind: 

"I brought us here as soon as I realized Titi-tet was here, because Lavi loves you, and I promised I'd be better and I'd care more and think about these things, but I have thought about it and in this case warning you and then leaving and locking the door behind us is best thing for everyone. I'm sorry I can't find it, it's--disseminating itself in the light, to me it feels like Titi-tet is everywhere, and it's too dangerous for me to stay here because she WILL come to you. It's her nature, she has be observed, she has to be worshiped, and if I end up enthralled I'm liable to erase everything you have built here for fun and you have maybe two people in the entire territory who could even begin to stop me, so please, please forgive me and let me take Lavi back to Horizon's Landing. Let us LEAVE."

Rebis didn't see Ashlesha very often, but his behavior was quite different. When they met, he had been unaffected and only interested in Invigilavi. To think he would beg her to allow him anything still weighs on her. Something is...amiss with him. But maybe that is only because he is human.

Malu opens his eyes. He looks around, and does not see the astral that has enthralled him. He shivers, and struggles, and soon begins to cry. His sobs are a rough and unfamiliar croak.

Dust presses a cool hand to his forehead and offers soothing but unheeded whispers. Titi-tet took his will, but they already know that can be returned. 

The same is not certain for his voice.

In the main office of the Tahalil Infirmary, Alala watches gravely as her mother flips back to the first page of a report from Noon Point's practice for third time. The symptoms. The names. The proposal written with complete impartiality at the bottom.

Haematica taps her pragmatically short nails with increasing disquiet atop her desk. The report is stirring memories old and rancid as bad wine. With lethal sharpness, she recalls the small practice she had with Tungsten on the edge of the Starwood Spa. She recalls the sharp rise in disassociative episodes before it all went wrong.

She hadn't been able to figure out what it meant, or why it was happening at the time. She had even disclosed that information to Dantalion. But none of them had been able to figure out the source. None of them had been able to stop Opal, or even identify him as the source of the problem, until their homes were in ruin.

She looks up into Alala's eyes. They both know Haematica had her first children to give the clan more plaguelings in a time when she was the only one who knew what it meant to survive. But she has never shared the stories of what the Exodus was like for her.

She cannot articulate the gravity of carrying Copernicus' mother out of the badlands on her back because the bogsneak didn't want to be cremated. Of thanking Carnelian for letting her give up on Ismene to focus on those with better chances. Of working through the night until her fingers were raw and gnarled and still having to watch Tawny set fire to the bodies of three imperials while they all held their breath and prayed that an emperor wouldn't be born.

The last thing Haematica wants is for the past to repeat itself for Alala. She places their family's seal on the letter and rolls it back up, and again she meets her daughter's eyes.

"Alala." Her voice comes out quietly, but with a maternal edge that makes the younger skydancer sit just a bit straighter. "You're also anxious."

"So are you, mother." Alala gives a weak smile. "But I think you are worried about your children, and I am worried about mine."

Haematica frowns. Alala and Rubedo's nests have an unfortunate tendency to precede ill happenings, and this time they have one lone egg to protect. She stands and fiercely embraces her daughter, mother to mother, before pressing the scroll into her hands.

"I would like it if you and Rubedo would take the egg and go stay with Asura for awhile. Maybe take Eshe, she hasn't spent much time in Feldspar."

"I think that's a good idea...for Rubedo, Eshe, and our egg." Alala peers down at the scroll in her hands. Though it is only parchment, it weighs the world. "As the Tribune of Health, I can't leave. Not now."

Haematica nods. "I know. Whenever you need me, blood of my heart, I'm here. Go. You have a lot to do if you're going to quarantine House Perihelion."

Camellia stands alone under the arcade that connects the Foursong Nursery to House Perihelion. Shrouded in layers of black silk and chiffon, with a single golden egg cradled in her arms, she stands out among the marble like the shadow of death in paradise.

When Haematica asked her to retrieve the egg holding their next grandchild, she did not ask why. They were old, dear friends, and Camellia trusted there must have been a reason.

She can feel this reason in the air around her. House Perihelion does not outwardly look different. Glamours wandering through idyllic scenery without any sense of rush or bustle is normal. House Perihelion has no businesses; it is all residences and gardens and skylights into public halls where river waters had been diverted into bubbling streams and mirror-still meditation pools.

But she feels eyes on her. Innumerable irregular clicks of bitten nails and the vibrations of jittery legs resonate in her horns.

Generous spots her and walks to her with friendly, animated haste. "Camellia~!" he sings. "My necro-chic darling, it's been too long!"

While they are familiar, even friendly in the right atmospheres, he has never been one to be touchy with her. Yet he throws his arms around her as though they are the best of friends.  

"Big smile dear," he whispers urgently. "Something isn't right and I don't think we're safe."

Camellia immediately responds with her most winning smile and throws one arm around him. "You know how it is Generous, I am always at the spans and you are always at the spa. Do you have a moment to walk with me? I'm on a granny errand."

"Granny?" He looks to the egg, and for a moment his eyes light with genuine joy, before he remembers the situation they are in. "O-oh. Oh dear. Uhm, yes--yes, of course! Let's catch up!"

Generous keeps a protective hold of her shoulders the whole way out. It isn't until they are well beyond the borders that he and Camellia relax and begin to exchange information.

Titi-tet sits in the lap of luxury.

The game of hide and seek is over, and the residents of House Perihelion have all had their time to see her--living wonder that she is.  She doesn't really know all their names yet, and it doesn't really matter. She doesn't need to know any of them when Pistis knows all of them. Pistis knows the good ones, and the bad ones, which ones will help most with getting Malu back, and which ones Titi should avoid being seen by.

Titi would have loved to have the guardian named Prophecy. She was old, she knew cool magic, and could have definitely been of use. But Pistis warned that Prophecy was perhaps too accomplished at light magic. She would know if Titi was bending light, and would probably not be easy to make a friend of. On the other hand, Titi would never ever have bothered with Dalma beyond her personal fancy. He was just some boring tundra man, not a special or interesting thing about him by appearances. But apparently he was the Queen's Historian.

"A queen..." Titi murmurs with growing indignance. She kicks over a bowl of fruit. "Hmph, I can be a better queen than some dumb fae... What's an Arcanite even doing running a light clan?"

"She's lightborn," Miscedence clarifies simply. "She is called 'Rebis the Rose-Eyed' because she was poisoned with Arcane magic in a magical mishap. Rebis is many things, but she cannot be called a particularly healthy or hardy queen."

"How's she manage to stay alive? Arcane energy is so gross!"

"A crown of white celestine," Stellaria answers. "It keeps her from getting too sick by siphoning the Arcane energy from her body. It's fine for her, but white celestine is lethal to Arcanites."

"I want that!" Titi-tet said, practically bouncing on her paws. "Can I have it?"

Verbena smiles, and pats Titi's head. "I'm sure we can get Ranti to make you one."

"No! She'll make one that's not as nice because I'm not a princess; I want the queen's crown!"

Verbena, Stellaria and Miscidence look at each other, but they chave nothing to offer. They look to Dalma, who looks to Laleh and Primsy, and they both turn their gaze to Moyo.

"I am not my sister," he reminds with a smile. "But the little diamond deserves a diamond in turn. It is simple, who can retrieve the queen's crown? Surely, the Tribunes must have this access?"

Miscidence quickly shakes his head. "If we touched the crown while it rested on Rebis' head, Bestealcian would take our hands before we could take a step."

"But I want it!" Titi insists. "Phi can't you just magic it off or something?"

"My magic doesn't do that..."

"Well it's quite simple then," Pistis chimes. "If Titi wants the crown, all we have to do is take Titi to see the Tahalil knight. When we explain to her that Titi would like Rebis' crown, I'm sure she'll be able to make it work."

Titi shines brighter than ever. She throws herself into Pistis’ arms, showering her with affection, completely unaware of the envious gazes of her other friends. 

If asked, Titi would probably not even remember Malu’s name.

[luucarii]

With a Dash of Gin - Ch26

GOD help me this was a long write.

Read on Ao3

“Kiss me until I forget how terrified I am of everything wrong with my life.” - Beau Taplin

“Is that her?”

Rantaro nudged his head in the direction of an empty table where a purple haired woman was sitting, looking through the menu and occasionally scanning the area. Kokichi nodded and exhaled a sigh as a means of preparing himself.

“Thanks for walking me here, I’ll be fine from here on—“

“What, you’re not going to let me meet her?” Rantaro tilted his head to one side and Kokichi glared at him, almost as if he was saying watch it. “You look anxious, I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

Kokichi clicked his tongue. His eyes went from where his sister sat and dragged themselves up to Rantaro. Would it really be wise to have him stay? Would he even leave if Kokichi pestered him enough? Kokichi couldn’t help but consider the worst-case scenario if Mika had decide to bring up their past situation in front of Rantaro who knew little to nothing of the subject. But at the same time, god forbid she did bring it up, having Rantaro around would be a good excuse to leave, especially considering Sasori had decided to go visit her siblings before the funeral.

Kokichi shook his head, it was too much to think about right now. Too man things that could and could not happen during this lunch date. As he tangled his fingers with Rantaro’s, Kokichi said one thing, sternly and quietly.

“If I squeeze your hand three times, we leave. No buts, no questions. We leave. Got it?”

Rantaro gulped but without a second thought, he nodded.

Kokichi sighed but he smiled and a giggle rumbled in his throat, “come on then, it’s time you met Mika.”

The lunch date was set up at a cafe of sorts. Mika had sent dozens of text messages the night before talking about a cafe near her workplace that served incredible coffee. Kokichi couldn’t really imagine her being a coffee drinker but then again, having not seen her for nearing four years, a lot about her could have changed. She was seated at one of the tables outside and immediately it hit Kokichi just how much she had grown.

Mika was always older than Kokichi, being exactly five years apart, but growing up with her, he could never truly see her as a ‘woman.’  She always looked shorter and less defined as the girls in his high school (hell he could argue Kaede seemed more womanly than she did). But now, dressed in a white button up and some jeans (something akin to a work uniform Kokichi assumed) Mika resembled the typical working woman in Tokyo. Her curls had grown out longer, her bangs were gone and he could swear he saw dark highlights around her ends.

Just before he had approached her, Kokichi took a second to look at himself. How much had he changed in the years since he last saw her? His hair was still short and a bitch to deal with in the mornings, he wasn’t dressed in anything too spectacular, a simple t-shirt and shorts. Had any part of him being an adult really stood out? 

“Kokichi!” When Mika finally noticed him, she stood up and immediately rushed over to him for a hug. Kokichi found his head buried in her stomach and he let out an awkward chuckle, bringing his arms up to wrap around his sister. As Mika pulled away, she took a second to examine her younger brother, twirling a curl of his hair with one finger, adjusting the t-shirt just a bit and giggling at how he seemed to barely grow a couple inches taller from the last time they saw each other.

It took a second until Mika noticed Rantaro and her eyes widened a bit, “I didn’t know you had a plus one. Fumika Ouma, but everyone calls me Mika.”

“Rantaro Amami, a pleasure to finally meet you.” Rantaro smiled and outstretched a hand to shake Mika’s. She grinned and invited him to take the seat beside Kokichi. 

“He’s my…boyfriend.”

As they sat down, Mika’s smile was from ear to ear. She let out a tiny giggle, “I knew you were experimenting in high school but I didn’t know it’d go this far. He’s cute, you picked well.”

Rantaro chuckled and under the table he reached to take Kokichi’s hand, “I’m flattered.”

“He’s a pretty boy so he feeds off compliments.” Kokichi rolled his eyes and snickered.

“Like you don’t.” Rantaro raised an eyebrow.

“Watch it, Ranty.” Kokichi quipped and Mika giggled.

“You two seem close. I’m glad to see you make my little brother happy.”

Kokichi groaned, “okay, okay, the topic’s been on me for too long. Mika, it’s your turn.”

Mika smiled and leaned forward. She took a second and hummed, “well, what exactly do you want to know? It’s kinda all boring stories. I’m not doing anything crazy here, just a simple business woman.”

“It’s Tokyo!” Kokichi crossed his arms and for a second, his eyes glossed over the menu, “I’m surprised you haven’t found yourself a boyfriend or anything. You’ve got the looks for it.”

“Mom’s been bugging me about that, but really I’m happy on my own. Hey, you’ve got a boyfriend, that should be enough for our family.”

“Mom doesn’t need to know about that.” Kokichi sighed, “and she doesn’t need to know I’m here, either.”

“…She kind of already does. Not about Rantaro, of course, but she’s knows your in Tokyo.” Mika chuckled sheepishly and when Kokichi heaved another sigh she awkwardly treaded on her next words, “I told her when I found out you were the one who called last week, and last night I told her that we were meeting for lunch today.”

Rantaro looked over and he felt Kokichi stiffen. Kokichi squeezed his hand once and Rantaro shifted his chair closer to him.

“…Alright, bad decision on my part but I mean, come on, this seems almost too perfect. You accidentally call me after four years of not hearing from you, around the time I find out it was you, you’re in Tokyo. It’s a sign or something.” Mika reached over for Kokichi’s free hand and sighed when he pulled away.

“Mika, this isn’t some novel. Just some funny coincidences.”

“I think you should forgive Mom.” Mika forced out the words and Rantaro felt a squeeze the second the word “forgive” fell from her lips. 

Kokichi’s eyes hardened, “we’re not talking about this.”

“I know you guys had a rough spot, but this is the perfect time to reconcile.”

“Mika. Please can we just get some food? Catch up, talk about anything but Mom. Tell me about your job, or ask me about Shuichi, anything.”

“Rantaro doesn’t know, does he?” Mika looked over toward Rantaro for a second and when Rantaro shook his head, she sighed.

“Mika.” 

“You always were one to bottle things up.”

“Mika.”

“Would you hate me if I told you she’s here?”

Those words set something off in Kokichi. Rantaro looked over and saw an expression he had never seen on his face. Fear.

“You didn’t.” Kokichi stared at her and Rantaro felt his hand quiver.

Kokichi searched the tables set up outside praying that Mika had lied. Seeing his mother after four years would have been too soon. There was too much complexity behind his relationship with her. A mix of hatred and embarrassment. Something he didn’t want to have to deal with now, especially not with Rantaro right beside him.

“Was this the only reason why you invited me?” Kokichi scowled and Mika shook her head desperately. Her lips curled into a frown and she tried to argue with him.

“No! No, I swear. I really wanted to see you. I missed you so much Kokichi, really I did.”

Once Kokichi had assured to himself that there was not a single trace of his mother around, he relaxed just a bit and loosened his grip on Rantaro’s hand.

“You left without a word. I know what Mom had said didn’t help but…you left me behind. And it’s been four years since we last talked. Regardless of what she said, it’s not right.”

“Mika, please.” Kokichi shook his head and his voice dipped into quiet pleading, “not here, not now.”

Mika sighed and looked up at Rantaro. She could almost feel the awkwardness of the situation from him. She attempted a smile and Rantaro seemed too concerned about Kokichi to take notice.

“Sorry Rantaro. Didn’t mean to bring up old family demons.”

“No it’s fine…” Rantaro’s voice was dry and now more than ever he wished Kokichi would come clean. He looked terrified. Purple eyes continued to scan the area out of wariness and for a second Rantaro considered searching with him. It was obvious enough he didn’t want to see his mother and if Mika had really invited her, it would be best to get him away from her as soon as possible.

Mika took a breath and giggled sheepishly, “so, how’s Shuichi? You guys are going to the same college right? He’s still saying he wants to be a detective?”

Kokichi hesitated and at first, Rantaro assumed he was thinking about his answer, or at the very least trying to rid his thoughts of the prior conversation. Rantaro looked over at him and his body seemed to stiffen. He watched Kokichi gulp slowly and suddenly the grip on his hand tightened.

He squeezed.

One.

Two.

Three.

Rantaro watched Kokichi stand up and tug his hand along with him. Mika’s eyes narrowed in confusion and she turned around in her chair. Approaching the table in a slow manner was an older woman, most likely in her forties or fifties with what seemed to be more gray hairs than purple ones. Rantaro didn’t have to ask to figure out who the woman was and Kokichi seemed somewhat grateful he didn’t say anything verbally.

“Wait, Kokichi—!”

Kokichi took off, dragging Rantaro behind him before Mika could finish the rest of her sentence. He turned the street corner and suddenly began to yell back at the boy who followed behind him.

“How do we—how do we get back to the hotel?”

He sounded breathless despite the fact they had only just started running. Rantaro pulled him back just as he was planning on darting headfirst into the street. Rantaro grabbed his shoulders and forced him to stand still in front of him. Kokichi panted and he tried to stand on the tips of his toes to look over his shoulder.

“Hey… calm down. Just relax. Breathe.”

Kokichi exhaled harshly and he looked up to Rantaro. “Take me back.”

“Kokichi.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Kokichi.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

The minute the door to their hotel room had opened, Kokichi stomped inside and flung himself on the bed, burying his face in a pillow while Rantaro sat at the edge of the bed, running fingers through his hair.

“You never want to talk about it.” He sighed and he mumbled somewhat bitterly, “all you do is bottle it up.”

“Shut up.” 

“You’re only getting angry with me because you know I’m right.” 

Kokichi sat up and pushed himself back until he hit the headboard of the bed, glaring at Rantaro and fiddling with his hands. “Yeah, you’re right Ranty, so what?”

“You’ve been keeping up this act for too long.”

“Let me keep it up then. It’s all I’m good at.” Kokichi forced a smile and he leaned forward nonchalantly, “because I’m perfectly fine. Nothin’s wrong with me Ranty! Nope, no family issues, no personal problems. I’m just a happy-go-lucky childish kid… who lies a lot.”

Rantaro turned and Kokichi held his face in his hands, “Is it that you don’t trust me?”

“Nah, it has nothing to do with trust. I do trust you, Ranty. It’s just hard let people in when you’re so used to keeping them out, y’know?”

“Are you scared?” Rantaro crawled over to where he sat on the bed and sat crossed legged in front of Kokichi, arms settled in his lap as blinked at him. Kokichi laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah actually I am. Afraid of scaring you away, afraid of losing you, afraid of what you’ll think of me. Afraid of a lot of things really.” Kokichi looked up at Rantaro and smiled, “pretty boy caught my heart, what can I say?” His voice dropped and Kokichi teased himself lightly, “jeez, I’m usually not one to catch feelings so quickly.”

“I’m not going to leave you—“

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say Ranty.” Kokichi shrugged his shoulders and snickered, “just so you know, I judge by actions more than words. It’s so easy to say one thing but going through with it is another story. I could’ve told you a long time ago that I’d give in and eventually tell you about what happened with my family and now, when it would seem to be the perfect time, I don’t even know if I have the balls to do it. See what I mean? That’s why I never promised you anything. I didn’t know any of this would happen and even if it did, I wouldn’t be 100% sure if I’d be able to tell you.”

“That’s one way of seeing things, I suppose.” Rantaro gulped and bit back a sigh.

“You can say anything you want about not leaving me but after this story ends it’ll be then when I truly see.”

“Fair enough. I’ll prove it to you then.”

Kokichi laughed and shifted until he leaned on his knees, grabbing Rantaro’s shirt and pulling him close. Rantaro didn’t falter, he kept a steady gaze with Kokichi and his expression alone was enough to send Kokichi into a giggling fit. “God, I’m in love with such a smug pretty boy.”

It was then that Kokichi pulled him into a kiss.

Kokichi found himself lacing his fingers in Rantaro’s green locks, desperate to hold onto him. Just in case this would be the last time they’d be this close. It hurt to think about things like that but Kokichi knew well enough the world he lived in wasn’t always kind. It blessed him with Rantaro and the months they spent together and everything they experienced but as quickly as the world blessed him it could easily curse him. 

He begged to any god that would listen to be blessed again.

Screw his lack of belief. He didn’t want an ending where Rantaro wasn’t with him.

As Kokichi pulled away he smiled, poking Rantaro’s chest where his heart was. He giggled and leaned in, pressing his forehead to Rantaro’s and spoke slowly.

“You ready, Ranty?”

“Whenever you are.”

From those words on, Rantaro remained silent. Kokichi instructed him to turn around and somehow the two boys ended up back to back, Rantaro sitting at the edge of the bed, staring at the wall while Kokichi faced the bedframe and stared at the small painting that was hung up above the bed. Rantaro didn’t question why he suddenly had to avoid seeing his face but he assumed Kokichi still was embarrassed from whatever had happened and it really was difficult to bring himself to confess to him.

“Where do I start? I guess I could introduce you to the problem kid.” Kokichi snickered to himself, “Kokichi Ouma. He—I—was difficult as a kid, granted you can say I’m still difficult now. I grew up on practical jokes and teasing and little tiny white lies. Y’know at first, people laughed me off. I was a kid, that’s what kids do. My mom wasn’t the biggest fan of it but she let me slide…until I hit middle school.” He paused and Kokichi began to laugh, “the childish side never grew out of me. I still teased my big sister, I still pulled little stupid pranks on the kids in my neighborhood. Even after my mom scolded me to stop, even after my sister had apologized to all of our neighbors. Looking back on it, I really couldn’t tell you why I couldn’t stop.” He sighed and Rantaro heard the shakiness in his breathing.

Rantaro reached his hand around and felt for Kokichi’s. 

“It got worse around middle school. My mom was slowly getting fed up and really it was all thanks to Mika that she was somewhat sane through those years. That’s around the time DICE was formed. Now, you’ve probably guessed we weren’t vigilantes. Nope, we were outcasts. The kids who never seemed to grow up. There were ten of us in total. Ten kids who I considered my closest friends. Ten kids who hid behind the mask of DICE and pulled pranks as revenge for all the kids who bullied us and all the asshole neighbors who scolded us and told us to grow up.” Kokichi closed his eyes in nostalgia, thinking back to a time that seemed ancient to him. It took a second but he soon opened his eyes and once again his stare was focused on the painting on the wall. “DICE disbanded before we hit high school. It simply wasn’t allowed. Despite the fact I passed my entrance exams with pretty high grades, I had too many demerits. They wouldn’t accept me unless I disbanded the group and my mom was particularly demanding about it. Most of the kids in DICE moved away after that. Their parents thought I was a bad influence on them, which I really couldn’t blame them for thinking that.”

“Entering as a first year with an already shitty reputation, Mika tried to help me out and basically forced me to start hanging out with Shuichi. Mika always told me he’d be a ‘good influence’ on me, which was, kinda. He wasn’t that bad of a guy. Nerdy, quiet, awkward but he’s smart and compassionate. Hell I even had a little crush on him at one point. He was the one who introduced me to Kaede — bless her heart, she’s too positive — Kaito — annoying as hell but loyal when you need him — and Maki — she hates me but she’ll never admit I make her smile sometimes.” He giggled and Rantaro chuckled quietly. “They were the ones who managed to put up with my craziness, Shuichi especially. We grew close enough to the point where I kinda consider him a brother. By the beginning of my second year, I told myself I’d change. I had people who accepted my crazy antics but by then I knew when to control them. I did my damnedest to try and be the good kid. For my mom and for Mika.” He paused and inhaled. “…But my mom already had her image of me rooted deep in her head. I was nothing but a problem kid and I’d never learn. After DICE’s disbandment, she limited her interactions with me and rarely took me out. Even when I tried to be good around her, she’d never see it and the rare times she did, something happened that would always screw me over. I always called it bad luck but that bad luck made my mom hate me.”

Kokichi turned his head a bit and Rantaro responded by tilting his head to the side. “We’re almost done Ranty. Okay?”

Rantaro nodded.

“The beginning of my third year, a fire broke out in my house.” Kokichi heard Rantaro’s intake of air. “It was somewhat late, both my mom and Mika were asleep and I was making… something. I couldn’t tell you, I don’t remember. I don’t remember much of that night. It comes back in flashes but everything’s in flames.” Kokichi closed his eyes and tried to imagine it. The flames engulfing his kitchen and spreading out to the walls of his bedroom. “Mom’s yelling, Mika’s crying and screaming. They’re yelling at me. Because it’s my fault. I was the dumbass who decide to cook food late at night.” Kokichi knew it was bad when he began to pant, quietly gripping at the sheets. Why was he doing this? Why was he suddenly going into detail? The story was almost done, he was almost finished, it would end soon. Why did it suddenly grow so hard to breathe?

“Kokichi. Take a break. Don’t push yourself.”

Kokichi opened his eyes and he felt Rantaro’s fingers curling into his own. He couldn’t stop. 

“Nobody was hurt. But well…my mom disowned me afterward. Nothing official, god knowing how she is with appearances she would never even consider filing that paperwork. She refused to look at me, left me to work for my own food and my own money. I lived with her and Mika for the first few months of the school until I just couldn’t handle being in the same house as her. I begged Shuichi and his uncle to take me in and I started living with them just around that year’s holiday season. Really…after that there’s not much. Shuichi did everything for me. He was with me during my last year, helped me apply to colleges, helped me get a job. He was the one who got me back on my feet.”

Kokichi finally turned and tapped Rantaro’s shoulder for him to face him. “And from there, we’re back to the present. Including me meeting a cute bartender, falling in love with him and helping him with his own family problems.”

Rantaro blinked at Kokichi, and the silence scared him. He frowned and pulled Kokichi into a hug, hearing the other inhale sharply. Kokichi gripped his back tightly and swallowed down a cry. Rantaro laced a few fingers in his hair.

“To the present where said cute bartender loves the boy who refers to himself as the problem kid and wants to do anything and everything he can to help and support him.”

Despite his earlier statement of believing actions more than words. Kokichi let himself believe him.

[paperlacejane]

In the light of Season 4 of BBC Sherlock,

I’m going to post my archived reaction to S3 and the Victorian Christmas Special, and some thoughts about the state of things. Completely unwanted and unrequested, but I want to share.

I also feel I should say that there is some positivity amongst the torrent of negativity.

I initially wrote the reaction to The Abominable Bride for my own personal catharsis. I considered posting it, tailored it as a review of the episode, even, but ultimately decided that I didn’t want to spread the negativity. If people were still enjoying it, then I didn't want to spoil it (I'm a sensitive type, and seeing negativity can easily harsh my buzz, so I didn't want to do that with anyone.)

I also still didn't want to believe where the show was heading. But now, given S4, I feel it's inescapable. Right now, I feel like I'm jumping out of the wood-work now to say: "SORRY GUYS, I KNEW THIS WAS GOING TO END BADLY." But I also really do want to make a point about the direction that the series took with S3 and the hideous Christmas special. [There were some considerable insulting blips along the way before that, but S3 (my main problem is His Last Vow) and TAB were so concentrated in their shitness, that I feel I need to single them out.]

I just want to point out that this wasn't a sudden thing. I feel like I need to say this, because a lot of people I'm seeing have been saying: "how did it go so wrong, you fucked up, this season was horrible" as if there weren't signs before this. People much more eloquent (and concise/pithy) than me have highlighted some of the questionable shit that has cropped up in Sherlock. I'm not going to write out all those points here. What I focus on are the glaring bits that offended me the most, that jarred the hardest, that really hurt -- and which appear to have been dialed up to 11 for this last series/season. I haven't read any (?? I think?) critiques of The Abominable Bride, so I can't say whether people have commented similar. I hope they have. (I had read over a couple of positive ones before writing this, on the IMDB page for that episode. This 'review' was what I was going to submit as a review on that page, because I was frustrated with the positivity, but I decided it was too-ranty and too downer-like for there.)

Very very few people are going to see this, let alone read this. But I just want to let out something that I’ve felt for a long time. That the signs of the fall were there, and that the writers, the actors, they've been screwing with us for ages, and that they've been wronging us in more ways than the no-johnlock queerbaiting-turned-queerbashing thing (which is a huge WRONG.)

So, this is my cathartic rant from however many years ago. I titled it, because Evernote wanted me to title it, "Notes on The Abominable Bride and the Questionable Direction of BBC's Sherlock" (the original title, I recall was: "what the actual fuck," or similar.)

In two words? Truly repugnant.

There is an aggressive amount of sarcasm at several points in the following paragraphs. Just, be warned. It should be obvious, and I've switched some of it out for easier reading with fewer double-negatives, but.

Given the era that Conan Doyle's stories were written, sexism is evident. Even within the character of Sherlock Holmes. He is quite gynophobic in the original stories, I have no illusions there. And yet he still respects women. He respects them when they're intelligent, when they're clever -- and those are not 'masculine' traits. He defends women, and threatens righteous violence against people who prey on them - one of my favourite moments is when he literally goes to get his riding crop to whip a man who has been manipulating and catfishing his own daughter. But still, there is sexism in Sherlock Holmes.

But I have never felt so attacked and demeaned as a woman by a Sherlock Holmes story as I have while watching this episode of BBC Sherlock. Whose idea was it to dress feminists in purple KKK hoods? To have them adopt KKK methods? To have pretty much all the women of the series thrown into a cultish vendetta club who specialised in systematic terror and serial murder? Oh, bravo. I don't care if it was all in Sherlock's head, or supposed to be justified within the narrative, or if it's supposed to be 'real'. Why would they put that on screen? Why would they make those links, create those parallels? And who thought having Steven Moffat tackle the topic of women and sexism was a good idea?

The only truly respectable life-like woman I have seen in this series is Sarah - a simple doctor, everyday but exceptional, who was clever and held her own. And yet she was disappeared. To be replaced by vindictive hags, insipid would-be love-interests, charicature land-ladies, and a woman who shot and technically killed the most-loved literary character of all time - who we're supposed to have forgiven because she "didn't mean to kill him," because her killshot was supposedly "surgery." The writers of this series would do well to remember that this isn't Doctor Who. It's not a science-magical world where the audience is obliged to grudgingly swallow down all the unlikely and downright absurd rationalisations that are thrown at us. If you use that sort of bullshit logic for a story which is supposed to be more-or-less realistic, it just looks exceedingly lazy -- even lazier than it does in Doctor Who. Not only that, It's fantastically cheap, and, at least personally, your audience ends up feeling cheated.

It also looks immoral in the extreme. How is it that all the characters -- John and Mycroft particularly (a pragmatic but emotional man who is supposedly devoted to Sherlock, as well as Sherlock's own brother who tenderly takes care of him every time he ODs) -- how are they supposed to have forgiven Mary too? I could, maybe, believe that Sherlock's self-esteem is so low that he might try to rationalise Mary's actions away in order to not rock the boat and not lose the people that he thinks of as his friends. But why in fuck's name are John and Mycroft believing that crock of shit? Even if it were "surgery," you're telling me that they can both just let the bare fact that she shot Sherlock slide? No visceral rejection of a person who could do that to someone you care about? No wish to see them pay, or be brought to justice? They're not repulsed by her actions in any way? They still trust her, when that's what she's capable of? When "I'll shoot Sherlock in the chest and maybe/probably he'll die," is a perfectly acceptable risk for her to take? (I say 'probably' because he flat-lined. And if it weren't a TV show, everyone has a good chance of dying if shot near point-blank in the fucking chest.)

Sherlock may be portrayed unsympathetically in this series, particularly in this latest episode, but he's no Magnussen. I wasn't torn up when Sherlock shot him in the face -- there was common decency on Sherlock's side, which goes a surprisingly long way. Magnussen was a blackmailing creep who had a penchant for sexual intimidation and degradation after all. But Mary shot Sherlock. Sherlock still equals 'good guy.' Let me break that down for you: A deceiving unrepentant liar and serial killer shoots good guy in chest for no good reason except so that she can go on lying. But not only are Mycroft and John letting that slide with little to absolutely no fuss, they're then letting Mary make smarmy little snide comments about Sherlock and joking about the lacking security of MI5 (and yeah, of course Mary can hack Mi5 instantaneously on an iPhone. Why not! Who cares about believability when you have the opportunity for 'witty' banter?) Mary is all-round a despicable character who somehow gets away with being a piece of shit because... She's sassy? The result is that she is a bad guy who gets no repercussions for her actions, and appears as shallow as a shower to boot. (I'm reminded forcibly of River Song.) The whole thing makes all of the main characters appear void of all human feeling, all basic human reasoning. They have no principles. Given that the show's main characters are meant to be crime-solvers, justice-dealers, law-and-order types, and "the British Government," you'd think there'd at least be some sense of moral rectitude abounding. And yet, no. There's a difference between "just enough of an arsehole to be worth liking," and just plain old arsehole. There's also a difference between morally grey and morally bankrupt. I feel increasingly under the impression that the writers don't know the difference.

On a related note: the true Sherlock Holmes was never, ever a sociopath (the term "sociopath" hasn't been used by any respected psychiatric authority since the 1960s - Sherlock would know that, even if the writers don't.) He has been sexist, but he has never been devoid of moral feeling. He has occassionally been devoid of tact, and often focused on fact over feelings, which are clearly very very different things. It's often remarked that as a character Sherlock Holmes is admirable, but that it's hard to like him. That's never stopped me before. That is, it's never stopped me with the original stories. Even within other adaptations, I have a great deal of affection for him and the stories he inhabits. With this series, they've done a good job of twisting that affection into disdain and disappointment.  

Oh! And whose idea was it to harass a historically asexual/non-sexual character on his orientation? That was an added touch of pure ignorance - and that amidst the existing pool of unreason, it must have been the audience's birthday! Then, of course, they couldn't possibly forget to lean on the fact that Sherlock kept Irene Adler's photo in the stories! I mean, it's a given that he should be harassed for being non-sexual and non-romantic, but of ~course, if he were actually interested in sex and romance, he's obviously secretly definitely, ~definitely straight. Never mind that he also kept a bust and picture of Goethe. Nevermind that he has a picture of Poe in his bedroom. Nevermind that Irene was (in the original stories) a woman who just barely outwitted him, who ~just got away. Forget that it's perfectly conceivable that he might admire her resourcefulness and cunning -- they're just the things that as a character he always admires -- no, he obviously kept her picture because he wants to fuck her. Of course! God forbid a man admire and wish to remember a woman and not want to fuck her. Never mind all other evidence that he's content being a non-sexual non-romantic creature. Never mind respecting his orientation as valid. Never mind that Watson explicitly states that Holmes wasn't interested in Irene romantically/sexually, nevermind that he was willing witness at her wedding-- Oh, but they've found a solution for that as well! Watson was lying! Of course he was! How convenient for them!

I cannot adequately express just how disgusting it is that they are trying to suggest, in this same scene, that this particular interpretation/incarnation of the character of Sherlock Holmes is somehow the secretly ultra-accurate portrait of the 'real' Sherlock Holmes. They literally state that the original stories are glossed-over for the good of Dr Watson's reading public of the time. How narcissistic and power-hungry (and delusional) do you have to be to say that your adaptation is somehow a more 'real' or 'accurate' portrayal? "Oh, he's arguably one of the best-loved characters of all time? Well ours is more accurate and better and we have mobile phones!" The original Holmes is an icon, a simple character who is at the same time exceedingly complex, he's paradoxical and he's wonderful. He stands the test of time. And there was once a time when I would have defended this BBC portrayal of Sherlock as the most accurate adaptation I've seen - a rougher, younger Sherlock, but tactfully brought into the real and present day. Not anymore. They've ended up exaggerating Sherlock's flaws so that they consume his entire character - the drug-use/-addiction, the tactlessness. Then they have all the other characters hate on him, slap him, mock him because of the exaggerated character traits that once accented Sherlock Holmes, and that the audience once loved so much. I just feel like the entire series is being geared towards people hating Sherlock Holmes, hating this series. I don't understand what the intent is for making these narrative choices.

You cannot put your characters into situations, have them graphically violated and manipulated and slander them in-text, and then give a small throw-away line as if to forgive all trespasses. Audience engagement doesn't work like that. You're working towards your audience feeling violated. Offended. And we're given no justice, no closure. And rest assured: we remember everything. Why are there no repercussions? Why is there so much that doesn't add up, why is so much skated over, if this is meant to be the accurate depiction of the 'real' Sherlock Holmes and his world?

I don't trust the writers of this series. I don't trust them to give me closure, to take me on a journey or tell me a story that doesn't rankle in the wrong way -  that doesn't violate reasonable sensibilities and then shrug off the trespass in the following moment. I feel like I should be slapping the creators with a glove and screaming "I demand satisfaction!" Because this latest instalment (the latest two instalments) have done little more than alienate and aggravate me. Even to the point that I'm ashamed of having once been a fan of this series. Even saying that I ask myself: am I over-reacting here? But I reason with myself, and I still feel it's true. It's become a series that I truly don't even recognise anymore. It feels warped. And I don't know how they can turn it back into a story about Sherlock making the transition from great man to good one. I'm not convinced that they have an idea of what a good man is, given what they're letting their characters get away with.

Moral relativity is a thing, but surely it's not just me that thinks the BBC Sherlock bar for "good" or "acceptable" is severely and unrepentantly low. Like I said: there's a difference between morally grey and morally bankrupt. There's not even any in-depth critique about actions, no reasonable discussion - everything's allowed, everything's thrown under the rug of "I'm a sociopath! He's a sociopath! She's a sociopath! Everyone's a sociopath!" Not only is that boring in the extreme to watch, it's so unsubtle that it's infuriating. There's no examination of what someone's shitty remark or action means. There's no weight to any interaction. It's pointless banter. It's flimsy. And when anything goes, then by what basis can they be solving crimes and catching 'bad guys'?

The vision for the series feels shot to shit. It feels like the series' universe has become an absolute fiction, devoid of any consequences, lacking in insight, depth, and subtlety, and populated almost exclusively by characters who drive me to be empty of any sympathetic feeling. I know that it's perfectly possible to write hateful characters who are never-the-less engaging, who inspire sympathy and empathy. But this series does neither. Look at the characters on paper and they become nothing. They're empty. I struggle to find instances of cogent speech that reflect some semblance of a fleshed out character beneath the flaking veneer. It's like they're just spouting words, but the words themselves have lost all meaning. And even when I find a moment that seems like it rings true and clear to the character that's speaking (Mycroft asking Sherlock if he'd made a list of narcotics used was the first that came to mind), that poignant moment is directly contradicted by their actions in a multitude of ways (your brother's killer is sitting right next to you, and you don't mind). That's a man who loves his baby brother (emotional reasoning) who is fine with his brother's flippant murderer a) still breathing, b) un-punished, c) being all sassy and nonchalant about Sherlock's drug abuse, and d) hacking into government restricted records in front of 'The British Government'. THAT SHOULD TRIGGER A FUCKING EMOTIONAL REACTION. It results in the portrayal of an inconceivable level of self-deception and compartmentalisation that reasonable men with moral feeling wouldn't stand. The characters don't feel solid. There's no integrity to them. You examine their reasoning, their internal logic, their actions, and they crumble to pieces. That, or they're so two-dimensional that they don't stand up to scrutiny anyway. It's all contradictions -- but they don't make a beautiful paradox, they make a jumble of nonsense tropes.

Beyond my perverse observation of how... wrong they seem, how much they betray how they're straying from the vision of the first and even the second series, these last episodes have simply served to make me disinterested in practically every single character. This is a truly impressive feat when they were once among my most-loved. I feel so fucking jaded. But all of the crap is just piling up to the point where I'm literally just stepping away from this series. I'm figuratively and literally throwing my hands up and saying: you know what? Fuck off. I have a feeling it may be like a car-crash for me for the next few episodes -- "don't wanna look but you can't turn away" -- but I don't see how they could bring the series back from this. I can't be the only person that's feeling seriously, seriously wronged by this episode. I can't be. Burn me once, shame on you. Burn me twice, shame on me. Burn me thrice? Fuck. Off. I'm off to watch something that doesn't make me want to throw up and claw my own face off .

So yeah.

After quietly “breaking up” with the show -- think in the style of Jon Snow bitterly saying: “My Watch is Ended“ -- I semi-waited for S4. I say semi-waited because I wasn’t going to watch it. But I was still hopeful, at least a little bit, on the behalf of the people that I followed on here, that I met in real life, that still had hope for the series. I thought to myself: “maybe. maybe it won’t be shit. maybe they’ll explain what the fuck why the fuck how the fuck.“

As we've found, and as I've mentioned, from what I have seen from my tumblr feed tonight, it went about as well as I expected.

I still haven't seen S4. The last episode I watched was TAB. But from what I've seen on here, it's been a clusterfuck of queer-coded villains, and copious dashings of even bigger plotholes than before, logical blackholes, more morally reprehensible crap -- and so many inconsistencies, it'll make your head spin worse than the hammed-up cinematography.

So, I'm so sorry for the people that had such high hopes, and who were deceived and let down in a big way. I -- and all of us, I think -- know that in the greater scheme of things, one TV show that went to shit, as TV shows are prone to do, isn’t so horrible a thing. But this show meant a huge amount to me. It meant an enormous amount to many, many others. I think of the creative fan-community, so many hours making gorgeously complex filthy brilliant heartwarming heartbreaking fic (so so much better than what we received)... to have what spawned that creative storm of brilliance and engaging life-affirming work -- life-consuming and life-ruining (in the good way) in equal measure -- to have what brought these works about go so bad, it actually hurts. It hurts less for me now, because I'm much further away from it than I was a couple of years ago. But it still stinks. And if it hurts me, I can't imagine how much that'd suck to have the show you spent so long making intensive work around go down the gurgler. The fandom and the general community that surrounded this show, for the most part, were way beyond what it ended up deserving.

In further efforts to legitimise my (our) frustration and disappointment, I'll reiterate that engagement in fiction is a huge part of our modern lives. We care about what happens to these characters and these stories. It matters, for one thing, because representation matters (be that queer, female, moral). Media fucking matters. It mirrors and exaggerates reality, and they ended up giving us a steaming pile of bullshit. (In a positive metaphor, this bullshit may still be used as effective manure from which better works can spring. Just be careful handling it.)

But, I have to say, given the backlash, I am also giddy. Because people aren't standing for it.

People are still making up theories to excuse where the show has gone, and what they've done, but at this point it really is super-keen denial, which some have realised even as they speak it. But the denial, the desperate “surely this is a trick” reaction, while sweet in its idealism, is also really sad. Because I don't think 'The Show' is gonna come back from this. I don't think they can get away with what they have been putting on the screens anymore. How can they? I can't forgive them. And after S4? I'm getting the impression that most of the world who gave the slightest of shits about BBC Sherlock can't forgive them either.

But lastly, I just want to say: okay, it hurts now. It really hurts. I remember that I was going through some horrible shit when they first started fucking up this show. Really shit timing, Show. I don't remember much from that time, just snippets, because that's how the brain copes. But I remember saying to my sister in a fit of desperate honesty: "all the therapy things I read, they say you're meant to hold onto the little things that makes life worth living, that you live for, that you want to see and experience more of... But BBC Sherlock was that for me, and it can't be that for me anymore?" I remember so clearly it being a question because I was fucking lost and BBC Sherlock was my refuge, anchor, thing that I could cling to as a source of enjoyment and escape and engagement. And it disappeared, nonsensically. There was no beauty to the unravelling, it just turned to crap on me. So if I sound like I'm being overly dramatic, trust that it’s coming from a real place, of just... complete disillusionment and disappointment. And to be not only without that refuge, but to have it turn into something grotesque that appalled me on a number of levels... that was just insult to injury.

“Breaking up with the show“ actually felt like a real-life relationship breakdown. Recently, I remember reblogging that post by alecslightvood:

one of the saddest things is when a show you invested so much of your time into and became emotionally attached to seriously fucks up and you are no longer captivated by it whether it’s because of illogical plots with zero substance, ooc characters, sexist writing or because the show kills off and treats minorities horrendously, and all you have left is this bitterness at how things turned out because something that once made you happy now leaves you emotionally and mentally drained.

and I remember tagging it: "it feels like being betrayed, the mixture of heartbreak frustration and disbelief, 'why are you doing this?', 'you're not who I fell in love with', 'you're not who I thought you were', 'you're not who I'd hoped you'd be', BBC Sherlock, I'm looking at you." Because my god, that descriptor fits Sherlock to a tee. I don't know what show they were talking about (the original post is gone,) but god that fits Sherlock so well.

I’m glad I jumped ship when I did (I actually mistyped “shit” there, guys, Freudian slip,) because honestly, I’m so so sorry for you guys that stuck it out. I had some closet hope for your wishes and genius plots (the ones you wove, not theirs) to come together in a beautiful climax that would justify everything. That would have been glorious.

But as it is. You are allowed to dump this show. You are certainly not alone. And I highly recommend it. The reason I’m pleased with this shows catastrophic fall (hah,) amidst the outrage and frustration, is because to be rid of it is freeing. To be rid of the quietly-but-growing-louder queer-baiting queer-bashing woman-hating show that does everything it can to insult the majority of those minorities who watch it, that insults the intelligence of its viewers with stupidity while screaming that it's the best... That's a good thing.

[punkwhodrinkstea-blog]

Addicted to Solitude (+Rant)

Hello web surfers, It’s been awhile since my last post so let me just start with a quick update. E3 has been a joy to watch though a bit underwhelming in regards to new games but the Virtual reality games are coming in nicely. Xbox is adding backwards compatibility to the Xbox One for the original Xbox which is awesome. Nintendo surprised me with a few good games unlike the past 9 years where the only good games are Zelda or… nope that’s pretty much it. The new Assassins Creed Origins, Battlefront 2, Far Cry 5, Project Cars 2 and LIFE IS STRANGE season 2! Are on my watch list. I am doing my best to not buy any games but depending on how many hours I work over the summer, I just may cave in get one or two. A game that really saddened me was “The Crew 2”. I was a huge fan of the first game and I was so excited for a second one and I thought for sure it was going to be a ‘must buy’ for me but they seemed to have taken the game into a new direction. Instead of building on street racing and the social side of co-op and PvP racing, they added boat racing, plane racing and dirt bikes. Now dirt bikes I’m cool with but seriously, who wants to race a boat or a plane? Anyway I’ve gotta stop going on about gaming… it’s just so awesome. Anyway my depression has been numbed I guess, I can still feel it and I’m sure it’ll strike and haunt me anytime but with all the excitement  of E3 along with busy school stuff right now a few other fun plans, there hasn’t been much time for me to stop and hate myself. Except now I’m thinking about it… hmmm let’s move on. The last update is about how I came across more evidence to support the theory that my parents and siblings are a major contributor in my depression. I got into a few different fights with my parents and/or siblings, within a span of 4 days. The results were me wanting to cut myself and the only thing that stopped me was that my girlfriend wouldn’t want me too. It does make for a great coping method but it’s not healthy. Next is my sister she’s a special type of evil, she’s was around this past weekend and dang I would need to dedicate an entire post towards how evil, mean, judgmental, degrading and toxic she is. The worst part is that she has everyone fooled, she acts so nice and perfect and socially acceptable and complies with all social norms when people are watching but around the house she rips on me like it’s her day job. Also she does it right in front of my parents too and they say nothing! Actually they are more likely to join her, they’ve done that several times. No wonder I feel worthless and hate myself, everyone who says they love me (lies) rips me down and tears me apart. I don’t feel socially, emotionally or mentally safe here. I’m at the point where before I open my mouth I ask myself “is this 100% required to be said” and if the answer is no then I say nothing. If I word something imperfectly I will get a lecture and be told I suck at socializing or I suck at English. If I spill a glass of water then I’m clumsy and uncoordinated. If I ask for the car to see my girlfriend (which is less than once a week) then I’m selfish and entitled. If I eat some food which is expensive (basically any fruit or meat) then I’m hogging all the good food. If any sound comes from my room: music, game sounds, loud laughter then I am inconsiderate of my sister who is watching netflix or listening to music in her room adjacent to mine (but it’s ok to hear hers because my parents like her genre of music). If I use the bathroom and someone else needs it then I am inconsiderate but if I need to use the bathroom and someone else is using it then I need to either plan better or wait my turn. (waiting my turn is fine, as should everyone, but this double standard really gets to me). I have a brother too but he moved out… but he may be moving back in once we move to our new house, I guess I’m just gonna live in a certain stage of hell because he’s no better. My parents and my siblings just beat up on me at every chance they get and call it “constructive criticism” which some times it can be but 99% of the time it’s just straight up bullying and there’s nothing I can do about it. I mean what can I do when my parents, the people with all the power and authority don’t even see how unjust everything is. I can’t wait to move out. Heck if I could move in with my girlfriend and her family I would. There’s just several problems with that… it’s a bummer. Anyway this kinda turned into a rant. Let’s move onto the other thing I noticed.

 So folks, I noticed that I’m addicted to solitude and after reading the paragraph above you can imagine why. I go through great efforts to avoid my family and most people. I was at a church meeting and a work meeting this week and both times I sit in the far back corner and do my best to look unfriendly (not mean just not socially friendly) so that no one will sit next to me, or near me. It works well and when I get home I go to my room with a headset on. I am almost always alone in silence. Writing, reading, working on art or gaming which has sound. I sometimes listen to music but I am trying to cut it out so I am not too over stimulated. I found that over stimulation and especially loud environments and sounds encourage my depression to kick in and make me suffer more and more so I’ve cut back on music. I no longer even care to try and be social. I just crave to get back to my room and disappear. The only time I’m happy and free to leave is when I’m going to see my girlfriend, she really has become the closest person I have to family and so has her family, though I’m not totally sure where I stand with her dad but I’m not sure if I am free to go into details nor do I want to. I really savor my peaceful, quiet, alone time when I’m at home because at any moment my brother could walk through the door; “hey big guy” or hey little buddy, I’m here to tell you that you’re wasting your life, I mean I don’t know anything about you but you like videogames and I’m perfect so I can tell you that you’re a waste”. Or my sister could be home and tell me to shut up, yeah she straight up tells me to shut up if I say something that she simply doesn’t want to hear; because obviously she has total control over everything or if I use a plate or cup I am basically crucified for it because that’s an extra dish which needs to be washed like big whoop it’s a freak’n cup! I could go on and on about this but I’m gonna try and stop now. Anyway about solitude. I read somewhere that solitude actually can be addicting, however I have a feeling it’s not any different from other things that seem to be addicting. For example alcohol is not addictive in itself but avoiding your problems or temporarily forgetting your problems by using alcohol can make the use of alcohol addictive. Now you only become addicted alcohol because you are trying hard to avoid or forget your problems. I am using excessive solitude for that same reason, though my problem is the environment made by my parents and siblings actions, words and overall mindset towards me. It really sucks living somewhere where no one knows you. My parents didn’t know I liked to write until I told them, they still thought I liked playing Call of Duty when I haven’t played Call of Duty since 2013 (4 years ago!), they still think I’m violent even though I haven’t got in a real fist fight since elementary school (over 7 years ago). The only thing they know about me is that I love chicken fingers… who doesn’t? They’re the best. Anyway I don’t have much more to add about my love/addiction for being alone since it’s pretty simple to understand and I think I’ve done enough ranting for one night.

 So I end things off, I thought I should mention that I am still working on my book, I’ve just been super busy with school, E3 gaming stuff and a few other life events the past week or two. Also  I realized recently how lucky I am that I never got addicted to cutting, I may have my girlfriend to thank for that… but it feels so good… no wait what! No. Never mind. I should go, I’m gonna go eat chicken fingers now for a 3am DESERT! : )    Good night everyone and sorry for being so ranty… actually never mind this is my blog, I can rant as much as I want. Peace out!      

[no-one-hears-me]

yeah the other anons you're thinkin of are probably me, i've sent a few, but hey i hope you solved your yellow jacket problem at this point. (as far as mine, yeah it was trapped in the vent cover thank god) i really love flowers and gardening oddly enough bu it's stressful, i got stuck in a swarm of bees when i was really young so even the buzzing of a big fly can be enough to make me panic i really appreciate you listening to all my (kinda ranty) anons and (again) i hope you have a good day ❤️

I thought so, your writing is familiar! And you said you're always on anon, which would imply more than one anonymous ask from you? But anyways! Yes, the yellow jacket has been squished, thankfully! but not by me lol, I don't get near them. Which reminds me, last year there was one on my bed, and that's obviously a crime. I was going to try to trap it in a candle jar, but it was on the edge of my mattress and not the middle so I didn't have a flat surface, and I was afraid it would just fly out from under the jar and sting me. But my brother squished it! I don't garden or anything but it seems fun, and I know a family with a really nice garden that's super pretty and grows huge vegetables. They gave me a zucchini last year and I made four loaves of bread with it, I made two different kinds of bread but, the first kind of bread usually takes 3 zucchini for 2 loaves. So it was a big boi! (Side note: I'm really Not Smart and I'm not entirely sure if zucchini is plural and singular as a word...) Do you have your own garden and do you plant flowers and stuff? The swarm of bees sound scary, I would hate that. I hope they didn't sting you or anything, just scared you. :( But even if they didn't hurt you, I can see how that would be enough for you to be afraid of bees still. And it must be really inconvenient that so many bugs buzz so it's easy to confuse them with the Sting Bois™. When I was younger, my grandma had a big wooden swing on her back patio, and bees built a nest inside of it every year because there was a little hole in the top. So there was always a bee flying around to guard the swing, and my rude siblings always threw stuff at it to try to irritate it because they knew the bee would be threatened easily, and I hated that because it scared me. :( 

I enjoy all your anons! I really do. 💕 Thank you for sending them, and I hope you had a good day too, or will have a good day. It's late here, so I don't know if your day is ending or starting but I hope the day is good regardless. And my day was okay, thank you for that. 💜 And also! I don't do it when I talk, but when I communicate in writing I have a tendency to get carried away and write really long messages. So a lot of my posts or replies or messages end up being way longer than planned, sorry! I think this one in particular is pretty long, but I don't pay enough attention to the length while I'm writing to notice, I'll notice after I post this and see it on my dash lol. I don't know if others feel the same way, but I don't like short messages because I feel like the other person is uninterested or annoyed or doesn't want to talk to me, so if anyone else is like that, I solved that problem. Okay, I'll end this here. Take care of yourself. 💚